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.

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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

[rathercommon]

"A serrated blade?" she asks incredulously. "Why?" And then she realizes - "What, you want me to saw off the spear-handle-thing? That's going to take too much time."

Though they do have a little time: there's something about an enormous mabari standing guard that keeps the fighting away from them. Though they will attack again, no doubt; that's just a matter of when, not if.

[keenly]

Colin’s eyes squeeze shut, and he has to retreat into a moment of meditation to clear his head. One second stretches to he ends of the earth, all around him. He allows himself three seconds to be free of having to think, then opens his eyes.

“In my pack, there’s a blue pouch full of a powder. Get it for me.”

[rathercommon]

She hesitates a moment, no more - then grabs for it, scrambling through it. Not there - there; she grabs it, pulls the drawstrings to double-check, and then hands it to him.

"What are you going to do with it?" Kitty winces and looks up when Three growls and half-lunges at a spearman. The man draws back, but not entirely away. They don't have much time at all.

[keenly]

“Just pull it,” Colin says sharply, opening the bag and dumping a good measure of the powder into his hand. Prophet’s laurel is a powerful coagulant, but he doesn’t have much of it. “Once I get the poultice on, bandages.”

[rathercommon]

"I - " Kitty takes a breath, then swallows, and squares her shoulders. No time to question. She hopes he doesn't die. God, she hopes he doesn't die because they make a mistake here. Right.

She wraps her hands around the spear-haft. And - "On the count of three. One, two - " And then she pulls, arms tight, keeping the spear as straight as possible, trying not to feel horrified at the way that she can feel the spear-head catching on his flesh.