MOD PLOT ↠ BLAZING LIKE STAR-SHINE

[faderifting]

WHO: All characters signed up to participate in the Battle of Ghislain
WHAT: The Inquisition faces off against the armies of Corypheus
WHEN: Covers most of the day on 11.28 (forward-dated)
WHERE: The Fields of Ghislain, Orlais
NOTES: This is Post #1, covering the battle itself and the retreat. It contains top-levels for each of the teams and an open prompt for the retreat. The OOC post with more information/explanation is HERE. If you're not sure which team your character is on, there's a LIST. POST #2 covers the aftermath of the battle.

Scouts accurately report the enemy's movements: after a slight slow-down believed to indicate that word reached the of the Allies' sudden appearance in their path, they have elected to remain on-course, and arrive almost precisely when and where they were expected. By sunset the night before they are making camp just over the rise to the northeast, easily visible from the hill, and as night falls their fires can be seen winking along the horizon, a close-packed glow.

The mood in the camp is tense, openly jittery rather than the tightly-wound nerves of the past month, but with a sense almost of relief that after so much preparation and so many weeks of anticipation, the day has finally arrived. Some corners of the camp, particularly the greener recruits and the Antivan veterans, are raucous around their campfires, singing and drinking, playful brawls breaking out, but commanders are strict about the wine rations, and even those who choose to take the edge of this way make an early night of it. A scattered handful of men attempt to quietly slip away during the night, mostly Orlesian conscripts, but a few Inquisition agents as well. Some succeed, but others are caught and imprisoned--the Inquisition's few held to be returned to Skyhold where it can be determined if they are traitors or merely cowards, the Orlesians only as long as it takes to find a tree and an audience to watch them hang and spread the cautionary tale.

It is expected that the enemy, hoping to make up for its surprise at finding the Allies prepared for their arrival, will attempt to catch them off-guard by attacking before dawn instead of waiting, as is traditional, for first light. They are all roused from their beds to form up in the dim grey as quietly as possible, moving into formation in the wet grass, a heavy morning fog lingering on the field ahead. It's cool and raw, the air still. But the ground moves: the shudder and rumble of hooves striking earth, felt before it is heard. The Orlesians raise their pikes, the front line braces, and it begins.

---

TEAMS 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • RETREAT
Team members can break off into smaller groups within their top-level prompts—it doesn’t need to be one 13-character thread—and the retreat is an open free-for-all.

Comments

[zombra]

Tessa is muttering under her breath as spells and arrows fly. It's a combination of Jesus! Shit! and other such things. It's about as much clarity as she can find at the moment. Most of her concentration is going towards aiming and firing. But she does take note that the enemy's aim is seemingly avoiding the circle she stands inside. That's something, she guesses.

"Yeah," she agrees. But off the top of her head, she has no idea what. Whatever he casts will probably help, though. And if all else fails, she has her axe. For the moment, she keeps firing until she sees that she should probably back up if she wants to keep using her crossbow. But that means giving up ground. Not exactly what they're here to do.

The crossbow is clipped to her belt and she pulls out her axe and shield.

"They're coming too fast. You gonna be okay with up close fighting?" Look, she barely pays attention to mages as it is. She doesn't know some have magic swords.

[faithlikeaseed]

Myr spares her a glance for the question, some perverse part of him inclined to return it; she's good with that crossbow and it seems a shame she's got to put it up.

But there isn't really time for that. Instead: "Not my first time." And truth be told there's a part of him that prefers it--

But there's no time for that, either. He flips his staff end for end to bring the blade to bear, speaking a barrier into being for both of them and anyone else within range. And then--seeing just how uneven the odds are, and how much luck they'll need to make for themselves--he launches into a second spell, trusting Tessa can hold them off for the crucial second or two he needs to complete it.

The last word sends gallons of slippery grease cascading out of the Fade onto the enemy's back line, turning that part of the hill into an instant mud pit. Myr grins a vicious sort of satisfaction to see the Venatori forces lose their footing, slipping and staggering--before he's got to reel back himself as a much larger fellow with a very large sword barrels straight into him, fouling his staff and driving him back.

Too clever by half, Shivana.

[zombra]

The axe is one handed, and that leaves her free to pull her shield from her back. It's a lightweight number she won at the Grand Tourney, and that feels a lifetime ago when all the nations were gathered together in an uneasy sort of peace. She wonders how many of these soldiers had been there...

But that's just a fleeting thought in the calm before the storm. They're quickly swept up in the front line, and Tessa blocks a hit before returning it with a swing from her axe cutting horizontally. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Myr moving back, the outline of someone big pushing him away from her. She backs up herself, not willing to put her back to the enemy, but then she launches herself sideways to sort of shield bash at the enemy. It's not elegant, or really executed properly, but she's never really trained extensively with a shield. At least it puts out force and that's what she wants as the man is knocked a bit off balance.

"Fuck off!" says the 5'4" woman, baring her teeth at the huge Venatori. It's like a chihuahua barking at a Great Dane, but she stands her ground with fingers tightening around the handle of her axe.

[faithlikeaseed]

Chihuahuas after a Great Dane or terriers at a bear--Myr's not any taller than Tessa and if it were either of them alone, sheer physics would dictate they didn't have a chance against this brute.

But they aren't alone and Tessa's bought Myr the room he needs to disengage, two steps back to a defensive stance with staff held underhand and the blade pointed at their assailant. Who--wisely unwilling to charge someone with what amounts to a spear, diminutive mage or not--steps back himself and aims a brutal blow at Tessa's shield. Here's a fellow used to battering down anything that gets in his way with that ridiculous piece of metal he's carrying.

Others are coming up behind the man now that he's opened a hole, though not as many might be charging their line if it weren't for the grease slick detaining the ones in the back.

[zombra]

The blow shows why this shield was a prize won at a Tourney and not something commissioned from a blacksmith. The lightweight shield gets a crack in it and Tessa lets out a cry of surprise as the hit reverberates through her arm. The shield's still whole, but there's no telling for how long. Around them, their small team is trying desperately to hold the enemy back, but it's becoming quite clear that despite the grease on the field, they're still outnumbered.

She takes a swing at the Venatori, axe hitting his armor and clearly not going through. Her shield goes back up and she steps back. Man, she hates giving ground here, but it's about survival. It's always been about survival for her. Outlast everyone else. Why die a meaningless death to defend a machine that she's pretty sure they can't defend?

"Dude," she starts, before remembering his name, "Myr. Anything badass up your sleeves?" Because if not? Well, Tessa's not becoming a martyr over a pile of wood and bolts.