[closed] don't go prison (breakin') my heart

[katabasis]

WHO: Benedict, Kitty, Kostos, Derrica, Lazar, Caspar, Poesia, Yseult, Flint
WHAT: The Gang Breaks a Guy Out of Prison
WHEN: Early Cloudreach
WHERE: Tevninter; a small island not far from Neromenian
NOTES: OOC Post; if you're in a group, I highly encourage flexible turn order. Feel free to self-assign where your character ends up once Things Get Real, but please don't have your lad or lady be two places at once. Prompts below are the main action of the plot, but feel free to do whatever you like before/after/adjacent to them.

Eione Island was once a staging ground for Tevinter forces eventually bound for the jungles of Seheron. Today, with the Imperium's attention and the bulk of its military might directed toward the South, the island fortress is an outpost in reserve - maintained by only a few dozen members of a private guard and overseen by Idothea Petrus, the third daughter of a Laetan family which has spent generations carefully navigating their way up Tevinter's social ladder. Much of the island is characterized by its challenging cliff faces with water too deep to cast anchor in. The only sure anchorage to be found is in Eione Bay itself, over which the fortress itself resides. Catapults at either end of the bay provide strong discouragement to anyone who might attempt a surprise landing to take the island by force. SO THEY'RE NOT ATTEMPTING TO SURPRISE ANYONE. Instead, Riftwatch is sailing straight into the bay in their own Tevinter ship, repainted in the reds, gold and blacks of the Artemaeus family and flying a flag of distress. The story? Benedict Artemaeus, son of a magister and heir to a textile trading empire, was returning from having overseen the sale of a large shipment when their ship was attacked by Nocen Sea pirates. Having barely escaped, the ship has put in here at Eione until the likelihood of further danger passes. Besides, wouldn't you know it? - Benedict's picked up some dreadful cough while doing business abroad and now requires the Petrus family's hospitality now more than ever as he recovers. The mages of the group in addition to Benedict are all to pose as semi-important mages in Benedict's company. The rest of Riftwatch's force will pose as servants and advisers and so on, including Yseult as Benedict's most devoted maid who is simply worried sick about her illness-stricken master and must keep close at hand at all times should he seem likely to tax himself overmuch by, say, spilling the beans, and so require the healing touch of a tender knife between the ribs. IF ALL GOES TO PLAN, Riftwatch will take advantage of Petrus' hospitality for the few days it takes to locate where their target, a once-prominent contact with the burgeoning enslaved rebellion in Tevinter who has been missing for two years, is being held. From there, Riftwatch's forces are to divide themselves into three groups: two groups will disable the catapults at each end of the bay in as flashy and dramatic a way as possible so as to draw attention; the third team will descend into the prison, locate Valeriantus, and then make their escape overland to the other side of the island where groups one and two, having made their own get away, will meet them with the ship for extraction. Simple, right?

Comments

[extortionate]

[ Lazar makes a noise that might be estimation: Time, distance, the likelihood of being stabbed to death. The rigging had been a good thought. Just happens that good isn't useful.

They land in books? Would be daring in a book — doesn't come quick enough to mean anything. One hand shifts to his coat, grips the little knife tucked there. Can't say whether a hostage'd be any use now (can't make out the politics) but a man wants to be ready. ]

I'm gonna grab you. Don't spook. [ His free palm fists into Ambrose's ragged clothing, grips tight. The guy's wasted half to shit; no muscle on him, and nothing to float by. ] Can toss you clear of the rocks.

[tender]

[ Despite earlier objections to both lightening and fire, Derrica has fallen back in preparation of striking their pursuers with one or the other. However, the prospect of rocks, the prospect of a fall, the prospect of arrows— ]

Wait, wait!

[ They do not have time to wait, so Derrica just acts, draws in a deep breath to gather power. She grasps her staff in both hands to bring it down against the earth. A ripple of light flashes past her, passing back through the group and clinging, sticking briefly to their skin before fading.

Barriers. Enjoy them. ]

[katabasis]

That's considerate.

[Which might, technically speaking, be either for the boon of the barriers or for the offer of being thrown clear of all the sharp parts at the bottom of the cliff eagerly waiting to have his body spilled all over them. What do they say in the South? Something about potatoes and tomatoes?

(--He does not say, which is good because already he's said a few things he will regret later as they make him sound like a wingnut.)

In any case: right. Being grabbed. Being suffused in a magical barrier. It's not like he's going to complain. Questions, though? Surely he's allowed those.]

Shall we count to three and then do this, or--?

[extortionate]

[ Light flares, clots the air abruptly sticky, and Lazar drops the knife.

It clatters from his hand, off a boot and into the dark, and that's a decision made because he doesn't count to three; just turns to grab the rest of Ambrose under an arm and heaves —

Maybe there's a scream, or a splash, or the sound of a magic-shrouded skull chunking off stone. That's for someone who's still listening to say. ]

You good? [ He shouts over the approaching din. An early arrow whistles past, overeager. ] To jump?

[ That's rhetorical. He's already preparing to leap. ]