faderift | But despite what you've been told

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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.

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The first interview hadn't gone particularly well. The woman that shared the cage had stared at his forehead for a long time, and then started to sob uncontrollably into her hands, which was both very sad and sort of annoying because even after being comforted and offered a slightly awkward hug, she would not stop. So eventually Cecil had just shuffled to to the other end of the cage and tried to ignore the background noise of her weeping.

He tended to forget the purple eye tattooed on his forehead, rolled up as if trying to look at heaven, the rising sun behind it. He tended to forget the tattoos all together - but obviously strange, captive, traumatised prisoners didn't forget it as easily as he did. No matter. He had a fairly good grasp on the situation through the perspective of being one of those said traumatised prisoners, seeing as he was one himself. It was the rest of the situation that he was having trouble piecing together.

So he was sticking out a hand, trying to waved down one of the less lyrium-diseased looking templars, who happened to be quite handsome but that was neither here nor there.

"It really will only take a moment," He was imploring him, in a voice that was certainly not a whine. "Just a few questions, to soothe the general public."

"He won't be distracted."

It's a kind of cheerful tone that's nearly sing-song coming from the man seated in a corner of the cage. Like Cecil, he's been but a hospitable little host in their temporary home away from home. Indeed, Kevin had taken time to embrace those nearest him, offering what comfort he could so that their strained sobs became quieter and quieter until they eventually fell asleep in his arms. A few had woken up since then and, eager to leave Kevin to spread his comfort, had fled to the other end of the cage. But one still slept, the girl's head on his lap. Ever so thoughtfully, everyone else was kind enough to leave him a precious few inches of personal space to allow the girl uninterrupted rest.

"They have a deadline to meet. No time for...pleasantries. Or entirely counter productive activities."

Close enough to have a view of the cages but far enough away that whispering won't be overheard, Korrin grips her staff and glances to the others with her. After all the watching and heartache, it feels good to finally be doing something about the cruel conditions imposed on the captive villagers. She's itching to go, but has worked as a group long enough not to just rush ahead without consultation.

"I'm ready to draw some attention, if those who can pick locks are likewise ready to make use of that. If there's anything else to say, now's the time." She's typically not long on patience, but also wants to give the captives their best chance for freedom. Should there be any last-minute notions that will turn the tide, she'll listen.

"It isn't distraction if it is important," Cecil pointed out, turning to look at Kevin to notice yet another person sleeping in his lap. Bizarre. He could have sworn it was the bald headed man that was currently cowering terrified on the other side of the cage, just a moment ago. Maybe Kevin simply had a very comfortable lap. "And I'm fairly certain that us having a better grasp on our current situation could only be more productive." He waved his hand for the templar again, but then sighed, his entire body sinking with the sound, as he settled in against the bars.

"Unfortunately, our captors cannot seem to be reached for comment."

"And I am ready to ensure that the attention you draw has little effect on you," Lenneth replied, her quiet words accompanied by the soft hiss of a well-oiled blade coming free from its sheath. She checked the blade with her thumb, nodded grimly. "If we are able, we should kill them all in this attack. They cannot be saved from corruption now... only returned to the cycle. And it would not do to leave any able to pass along information about our capabilities." The Valkyrie thinned her lips, eyes flickering across the cages. "Or to follow us later."

"Agreed?"

This is the second time Sherlock and Korrin have been sent on assignment together, and Sherlock is finding he doesn't half mind working alongside the mercenary. She's practical, direct, confident in her abilities but all business when it comes down to it. None of this is anything he would have said to her face — but as a show of appreciation, he's been happy to pay her the same courtesy in return.

He's less sure about the rifter. Can't be sure about any of them, really, and that's the broader problem. But here she is talking about taking on the whole camp herself. No matter how sturdy that armor looks, he has his doubts.

"So long as they're not looking my way when you lop off their heads."

Maxwell had never met any of the group before they'd been teamed up together for this rescue mission, but he settled readily in with them just the same. They were of the same mind - if not the same world - and that's what mattered to him.

Helping these people.

Pulling an arrow, he nodded as he shifted, readying his weight.

"Once we've got the cages open, I can provide cover for the villagers and make sure they get well out of the way."

Aside from Sherlock, Korrin hasn't spoken or worked with the others before, something which she now laments. It's always easier to function as a group knowing each other's strengths and weaknesses, and this mission must succeed. But it's also true for her that the best way to learn about someone is to fight alongside them, and she'll see their mettle soon enough.

Nodding to all that's said, Korrin manages a small, grim smile. "Then we're as ready as we'll ever be. Good luck, everyone." She nods to Lenneth, thoroughly agreeing about the Red Templars and ready to channel her rage about what they had done.

Seeing no reason to delay, Korrin then quietly moves away from Sherlock and Maxwell, not wanting to have them anywhere near her when she abandons stealth. That moment comes as soon as she's in position, casting Barrier over herself before straightening and drawing attention with her Chain Lightning spell. She needs to take out as many as possible, and has a few more spells in mind to affect that end.

"At this exact moment, we seem irrelevant to their greater goals."

The girl was beginning to drool. With a smile frozen in place, Kevin reaches down to manipulate the angle of her head, letting the bodily fluid seep into her hair instead of his trouser leg.

"But, goodness. You are the curious sort. Aren't you."

"I'm a town crier," He replied, as if that should be obvious. "My whole job is to figure out what is going on and then tell people about it. That kind of work requires a little curiosity."

Like, for example, the curiosity about whether or not Kevin's smile was extremely creepy or just felt extremely creepy, but as there was no one here to gossip about it with out of ear shot, it would have to be a question for later. Plus, he didn't want to think about it too much, considering that if it was extremely creepy, there would be no where to run from it.

"Also," he added, frowning as he grasped the bars, looking out at their captors, "I've found that survival tends to require a little curiosity."

The burnt ozone smell of Korrin's lightning hit Lenneth's nose around the same time the screams began. She closed her eyes briefly and flexed her fingers in the cold air, let a calm dispassion settle over her like a cloak. This may be another world, but there was still battle. And she was still a Battle-Maiden.

She vaulted over the low wall they had been using for cover, and surveyed the camp quickly.

Three cages; two close, one on the other side of camp. Two tents, flanking the far cage. Table. Documents. One jutting spire of Red Lyrium large enough for cover. Three visible Templar: one sword, one sword and shield, one marksman... and...

Lenneth frowned at a space nearby the others. Ostensibly empty air, yet still crackling with the vestiges of the Chain Lightning. Another one, then. Invisible.

"Four!" she called, voice ringing in the frigid air, "One ranged, one assassin! The lightning still catches it, Korrin!"

That was the first target, then. An unseen enemy could do irreparable harm to the rear. And the innocents. The warrior set her feet, then charged toward the flashes of electricity that still lingered in the air.

When the battle is over and the assembled group is clear of the Red Templars, Korrin's conscience is clearer that it has been for some time. Finally, at least some captives are now free. Not all, and she won't stop requesting aid until they were, but even one life spared such horror is a victory.

That isn't to say that there's any time to relax and savor it, however. Korrin knows they won't truly be safe until the region is behind them, so she'll do what she can in order to keep people moving. Gently, of course. If a cloak is needed, she'll pass it on; if fatigue is brought on by malnutrition, she'll take whatever is still in her travel bag and offer it without question. The Vashoth mage is fit and she can do without for a while, whereas others don't have that luxury.

Coming up to the nearest of those freed, Korrin looks them over with concern and slips free a healing potion from its place at her hip. "Here, have this. You need it more than I do."

"Oh, only the right kind of curiosity. The types appropriate for our current position and role in life. Asking your name, for instance. That would be example of the helpful curiosity. Of use to...well, me. Right now."

And the drooling problem had been successfully addressed. Kevin nearly beams at this small, but functionally important, accomplishment. It wouldn't help to have a disgusting, frozen leg when the time came, now would it? Certainly not. But he'd been too distracted dealing with the many distress individuals to really catch what the 'crier' had been saying earlier. Despite the many...enthusiastic words that had come from the man's mouth.

"So, what is your name, friend?"

And they're off. The crackle in the air and the smell of the lightning is enough signal for Sherlock to move, still low among the snow and rocks, one hand on the hilt of his knife. He pauses, as close to the cages as he can get without being spotted got the moment — Lenneth's shout is loud enough to hear from there. Useful.

He glances upward. The marksman is just visible... until he moves to get a better vantage point. Then Sherlock's off again, making for the first cage.

Korrin and Lenneth leaped forward, directly into the midst of the camp. Sherlock moved aside, low and fast, skirting around the edge. Maxwell moved back, taking a couple trees for a bit of cover as he began to fire. His arrows slipping past the mage and the rifter, to strike at the Templars.

He heard Lenneth's shout and shifted his aim from the enemy archer to the seemingly empty space he'd moved the tip of his arrowhead over. They might not see it now for the net of energy, but if he could get an arrow in it, even if he didn't take it down....

He aimed fast, but true, and let loose.

Ugh, assassins. Korrin isn't close enough to initially notice what Lenneth did, but now that it's pointed out, she can see the empty space affected by her lightning. As Lenneth charges and Maxwell fires, she blurs away at a different angle with Fade Step, forcing the Red Templars to divide their attention. That done, she sets about to making more use of her talent with Storm magic.

If there's one thing Korrin's learned in her time as a Valo-Kas mage, it's how to place her spells so that they reach her foes, not inundate allies with friendly fire. She manages a few ordinary blasts with her staff before the perfect moment arrives. Placing her spell at an angle to catch both the warriors and hopefully the assassin, though not the marksman, Korrin smirks as the electricity field she creates takes effect. The moment those Red Templars try to leave, they'll be paralyzed. Not only that, but as they're injured a lightning bolt will strike them as well, causing additional pain.

The lingering sparks that had outed their invisible foe faded away quickly. Lenneth grimaced, tried to push forward faster. By the time she got to it, she wouldn't be able to -- A dark sliver whizzed past in her peripheral, and Maxwell's arrow struck. The Valkyrie smiled. The smile widened as the assassin, staggering slightly from the archer's hit, got caught in the edge of Korrin's field as it came to life with a crackle across the ground. By the time she set her feet to swing her sword, it was a full grin.

The shock of blade biting deep into flesh was doubled as lightning streaked from the field, ran along the metal, and grounded in the body of the twice-unfortunate Templar. It let out an unearthly shriek and slumped sizzling into the snow. The Valkyrie shoved it clean of her blade with her foot, shook out her left arm to relieve the buzzing feeling being so close to the lighting had left.

"Assassin down! Well done, both!" she called out, then raised her head to search out the marksman... who gave his position away with an arrow that punched through the pauldron protecting her right shoulder. She felt the barest prick of it, pulled the shaft free with a snap, and pointed along the trajectory.

"Up there!"

Another one whizzed past in answer, screeching off the edge of her already damaged shoulder-guard.

Well, they were certainly loud enough to keep attracting attention. But Sherlock's eyes were drawn to the door of the cage as he approached. The hinges were sturdy, but not exactly made to be opened quietly. The creak as they opened could give away his position much earlier than he'd like.

Knowing what the mission entailed, he'd come prepared for this. Nothing more than a vial of oil, which he pulled from the pouch where it was concealed as he reached the cage. With one nimble hop — and a slightly sweep of his coat — he was standing on the rim of the wheeled cage, holding a finger to his lips to signal silence to those inside, his eyes mostly hidden under his hood.

Oil was applied to the hinges before he climbed down, lowered his hood, and began to pick the lock, always listening and watching the periphery of his vision for danger.

Maxwell took Lenneth's direction - more from her gesture than the shout, the words themselves lost under the din of the fight - but as he drew another arrow, he glanced quickly aside toward the cages, monitoring Sherlock's progress. Trying to keep an eye out for the rogue as he slipped to the door and crouched.

As soon as he freed the prisoners within, they'd become his responsibility. And he was determined that they make it away from the camp in one piece.

Gaze swiveling back on Lenneth, he loosed, and was rewarded with a dead shot on the marksman as he had crouched, preparing for a full, deadly draw.

Well, that takes care of the marksman. Freed from that issue and ready to continue attracting attention with as much noise as possible, Korrin focuses instead on helping finish off the pair trapped in her magic. Taking advantage of that temporary paralysis before the static cage fades away, she triggers a glyph and unleashes a massive explosion underneath them both.

Naturally, the sound of battle attracts more Red Templars in the area. Hearing the clank of armor approaching, Korrin takes advantage of the moment to put more distance between herself and them before glancing over to assess the backup. She's not done flinging lightning around, and as soon as they're in range, another Chain Lightning will go off.

"Oh, that is so very kind. But I simply couldn't. They very thought of it makes me nauseous."

Kevin smiles, the expression not quiet reaching her eyes as he takes in the...individuals. Qunari he's more than accustomed to, were individuals he spent most of his remembered life around. But one with magic could only be one thing, and he would let the shivering individual behind him take the healing potion offered.

"But thank you."

That his smile doesn't reach his eyes isn't unexpected; this man had just been through a grueling ordeal and Korrin can only begin to guess at the extent. She nods, not about to press the issue. The last thing anyone from those cages need is someone else forcing decisions for them or prying. So she's fine with letting the nearest person have it instead, taking a moment to readjust the staff on her back afterward.

"Fair enough, but if you change your mind, it shouldn't be difficult to spot me. I'm probably the only one of my kind in the area, after all." She smirks a little at that, glad her height and horns are good for something when they've been more of a hindrance during her scouting mission. Being the only Vashoth around makes keeping a low profile difficult, to put it mildly. "And I have plenty to go around, so don't think you're depriving me."

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But despite what you've been told

CAPTIVES

RESCUE TIME

TRAVELLING CHATTER

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