faderift | But despite what you've been told

WHO: Cecil, Kevin, Sherlock, Maxwell, Korrin, Lenneth
WHAT: Four brave Inquisition members go to rescue a group of very odd people
WHEN: the next few days
WHERE: on the edge of Emprise
NOTES: Rescuers feel free to use the ooc post here to plot out how you want the rescue to go down. Feel free to make up camp details/NPC actions. Action will be split into three main threads: Captive chatter, rescue, and travelling (both coming and going). Rescue will be a group log, but for the others feel free to do one-on-one threads.

The report’s directions are clear, at least, which is good - how else would the scouts be able to find the camp in this cold, desolate landscape. Snow as far as the eye can see, but there are great red shards of lyrium breaking through the ground. The only sounds are the grunting noise of red Templars stalking their way through the construction site echos along the frozen grounds, and the freezing wind that bites through skin and fur alike.

Scattered among these fearsome foes are cages. They look almost like caravans - giant cages on wheels, with cowering, shivering figures within. A few elves, primarily humans, all cold and hungry and uncertain about their fate.

Within one of these cages, a tattoo-covered human is conducting interviews.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

After the fight, Lenneth had volunteered to guard the rear of the train, leaving the direction of their bedraggled party to those more inclined towards scouting. She remained fairly quiet and kept to herself, though certainly not out of a poor mood. Every so often she'd gather power to her fingertips and then let it go, a small faraway smile on her face.

"What is that?" Cecil asked curiously, with no lead up what-so-ever, as he pointed to the green shard in her hand.

"I don't think I've seen anything quite like it."

"This?" asked Lenneth, lifting her afflicted hand. She flexed her fingers away from her palm and faced it toward him to give a better look. "I know little. I have been told it is a shard of the Anchor--the mark the Herald of Andraste bore before her death. Like her, I emerged from a rift. Unlike her, I do not originally hail from Thedas." She said this matter-of-factly, and didn't pause afterward to allow for the sudden consideration of other worlds. Or, more likely, interruptive questions.

"All of us who came from the rifts bear them. They are weaker than the Herald's. Smaller. But they serve the same purpose. If those who bear the anchor shards work together, we may close rifts. I have seen it done--and aided in doing it myself." She stretched her fingers once, then let the hand fall to the pommel of her sword again. "More than that, I do not know. Its origin, if it has any other power, why we were pulled from our worlds, what was it did the pulling, whether or not we may return..." She lifted her shoulders in a brief shrug.

"If you find aught out with your questions, I would be well pleased to know."

Edited 2016-01-06 04:59 (UTC)

But despite what you've been told

Re: TRAVELLING CHATTER

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