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

[hornswoggle]

"Sit down. You're making me cold just looking at you," John tells her, easy as if she were a Walrus man. He isn't entirely sure he won't be rebuffed a second time, but persistence has always been a large part of what's worked for John.

"Please," he amends, as if he's taken a quick measure of the situation and judged the extra nudge necessary. Remembering the imperiousness of her bearing in the market, and thinking she'll need just a little more than John casually prevailing upon her to indulge him.

[shri]

She relents, not completely silent - "Mother, is that you?" But as he insists, she takes it. A thankful nod of her head as she drags it about her shoulders, heavy on her. She is not after, the tallest of women, ( certainly not here, when more women like Magni exist then she ever thought possible ), so it drapes more than enough to wrap her up.

Once it's settled, and - giving up entirely on any pretence, the hood is pulled down to cover her face half the way with a thankful sigh of breath that her nose isn't quite so frozen.

[hornswoggle]

Mother. John snorts, even through the momentary flash of uncertainty over his own approach. Investment in these people beyond the scope of their usefulness is a danger to him. It's a fine line to walk, being well liked while also holding himself separate. He'd failed spectacularly in his attempt to do exactly that aboard the Walrus. But it's a shared blanket and a bit of teasing; there's no need to let it be anymore than a reminder that he needs to tread carefully in how he proceeds here.

"It feels...wrong to ask if you had a decent day in the midst of all the chaos."

Surely there had been individual successes. There had been a moment, a real moment, when victory had seemed very close.

"But I assume the battle wasn't a complete loss for us all."

And they may as well begin sorting what bright spots existed in this muddle as soon as they could.

[shri]

Lakshmi shakes her head - a soft murmur. "It was a battle. They are as they are. But this one sported fewer loses then it seems now that we are back in our camp." Her eyes cast briefly about them before she looks back to him.

Been in battles when so many died, to know what to look for when the losses are minimal in comparison. The camp wasn't deserted except but for a few. They had been able to retreat back to it, without even this camp being overrun. It was barely a consolation, but it meant at least that there was time to repair.

"And I am sure for some, they managed to seize some glory, even in an overall loss. No doubt in all this chaos, more than one young soldier has made his name."