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

[staysail]

"The only one willing to admit to being attacked by horses," Darras corrects, mildly. "Sure and there's others. But they've got some inflated sense of, y'know, themselves, and their own importance. Whereas I'm more realistic."

He settles back as the cart falls into a regular movement. The swaying is almost like that of a boat--a little rougher, but the wheels are in the well-worn tracts of the road by now--and the rushing of the wind outside might well be the rushing of the waves. So, all right. He can settle in.

"Now, how I escaped. That's a good tale. D'you know what horses like, for a treat? Of course you do. Probably have a whole list. I only knew one thing: apples. And because I'm lucky--for a man who was attacked by a horse, I'm powerful lucky--it just so happened that I had an apple with me. And d'you know what I did with it? I took it in my hand, and I held it up for that beast to see--there in the smoke and the chaos and the mud of the battlefield, I held it up high. And then I threw it in the other direction. And the horse went tearing off after it. See, that's the thing, about evil. It's stupid."

[hassaran]

"You did not take an apple into battle," Yseult replies, a laugh in her tone, unmistakably fond even though she's paused by a yawn. "That's ridiculous. Not at all realistic. What happened next?"

She's asleep before he can get much further, quietly dozing off and remaining that way for as long as the road stays relatively smooth, though she stirs enough at each rut and rough patch to allay concerns.