MOD PLOT ↠ NONE TO RETURN

[faderifting]

WHO: All characters signed up to participate in the Battle of Ghislain
WHAT: The Inquisition regroups and heads home
WHEN: Covers the period immediately post-battle (11.28) through the journey back to Kirkwall (11.29-12.1)
WHERE: North of Montfort, Orlais, and on the road to Val Chevin
NOTES: This is Post #2, covering the immediate aftermath of the battle and the journey back to Kirkwall. It's a free-for-all. Post #1 covers the battle itself. More info on the OOC post.

The Inquisition and Orlesian armies eventually limp to a halt along the Imperial Highway north of Montfort, where wide fields and gentle hills offer clear lines of sight and a sparsely equipped fortress provides some shelter and fortification. It's a soundly strategic location—if Ghislain is lost, Montfort is the last major city between the invaders and Val Royeaux—but among the rank and file there may be too much chaos to appreciate it.

For the remainder of the day and well into the night, the fortress and surrounding land are a frenzy of activity. The wounded who were not left on the field must be triaged and tended to with limited supplies, while many healers and surgeons out of commission themselves and the remainder worked to the bone. Scouts, soldiers, and even support staff in sturdy enough condition to keep working may be tasked with assembling camp from the few remaining supplies, taking reports on known casualties or acquired intelligence, or further fortifying the new location. The Orlesian army sends one of its battered cavalry units toward Ghislain to attempt to provide some warning, and from the Inquisition's number a few patrols are sent back toward the battlefield or toward Ghislain, with stern orders not to re-engage, only to watch for signs of pursuit, and to direct any stragglers.

Those who remain in the fortress are in for a long, miserable night, with meager rations and makeshift bedding, if any of either, while the wind shifts directions and grows colder. By morning a number of the wounded have died, but attempts to build a pyre are hampered by the sudden swell of a storm that starts with freezing rain and then transitions to early and unpredicted thick, heavy snow.

For a few hours that morning the two armies attempt business as normal, but it soon becomes clear that the storm is getting stronger, and they risk being snowed in with more people than they can feed. Many, including the Inquisition's Gallows contingent, are ordered to disperse. Many crowd into wagons, with any transportable wounded receiving further attention en route and neighbors hunching close to preserve heat whether they like one another or not, while those able to do so follow on foot or horseback over the rough, flash-frozen highway toward Montfort and then west toward Val Chevin. The storm doesn't abate until they've nearly reached the city, but once there they're able to stop, eat, and spend a few hours indoors thawing out before proceeding home.

Comments

[motherfucking_ghost]

He doesn't put up a fight, letting her lead the way. But he'll definitely whine about it. Normally he'd whine about wanting food instead. "I don't wanna aggravate anything." Dead skin is dead skin, so what's healed is tender, and get this boy some Gatorades in him stat. "And others need it more. Leave what's left for the needy."

[aceso]

"What if I think you're in need, hmm?" She glances up at him as they walk to give him a questioning look. "Are you afraid it will hurt to eat?"

[motherfucking_ghost]

"No." Yes. "Kind of." Maybe. "Doesn't hurt yet. But I'm also pretty sure I could punch myself in the neck and it wouldn't hurt yet. Dunno. This doesn't seem as...important?" He squeezes her hand. "Bunch of these kids probably won't make it to tomorrow. A lot didn't make it to now."

[aceso]

"I know." And that's the most demoralizing thing out of all this. Losing a battle is awful, but it's the loss of life that means more.

"But eating is important. You may feel fine now — or not feel anything at all with your injury — but I don't want you to neglect your basic needs. You survived, and I want you to survive for many, many more years." His hand is earnestly squeezed back. "Please? For me?"

[motherfucking_ghost]

"Yeah. Lots more."

But is it enough? He's not sure about that.

"I dunno how many more we got left if we've got our own people stabbing us in the back, though."

[aceso]

He brings up a good point. By now, most of them have heard of the betrayal — if not experienced it first hand. If they can't trust their associates at Skyhold, who can they trust? She shudders to think what would have happened had she stayed at Skyhold among those mages. How would she have been able to break away and warn the advisors of what they were planning? If the mages doubted her loyalty, would they have disposed of her before she could reveal their plans? Did several mages at Skyhold go missing before the group left for battle because they wanted no part of Tevinter's plans?

"I do not know how to answer that," she says softly. "Treachery is always such a distant thing until the weapon is unsheathed behind you." Christine swallows hard, picturing Church being at the center of it all. "You saw them on the field, then? You fought them?"