[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

A WARM WELCOME;

[katabasis]

[Idothea Petrus is an almost unpleasantly thin, large eyed woman. She has the face of a person who rarely finds much to smile about, but in the last few hours she has been putting every effort into it. After all, it isn't every day that a member of the Petrus family finds themselves in company of Artemaeus' caliber. To be sure, the poor lad might have to be propped up through dinner, but perhaps if she is a gracious enough host he will recall her family's kindness and pass a good word to his mother's ear.

The evening's repast goes off without a hitch. Conversation is light, and mostly focused on the war effort in the south (blessedly, Riftwatch is rather more well informed on the details than Idothea seems to be). It's once they've retired for a post-supper smoke and card games on the terrace that things threaten to go radically and abruptly sideways.]

I wonder, master Artemaeus, [Idothea simpers,] If you might indulge one additional small curiosity of mine. I'm sure you and your companions understand by now how slowly news reaches this pleasant little rock, so you will have to forgive me. But I simply must know how you came to be here on a ship of your father's when last I heard you had fled the Empire all together to join the rebellions in the south.

[She nods placidly to his hand with the rift shard in it. Luckily the record player hasn't been invented yet, so there's no needle scratch.]

THE EASTERN CATAPULT;

[katabasis]

[Of the two, the easternmost catapult tower is the farthest from the fortress and manned by only the bare minimum required to operate the weapon which means Riftwatch's force is more than an even match and can easily capture the tower. The catapult will need to be disabled, but more importantly a distraction will need to be created here to draw away forces from the fortress and the more well-defended western catapult.

The good news? You have the luxury of doing that work without risking being stabbed in the back. The bad news? Once the alarm is raised, the bulk of the island's forces will be headed in this direction.]

THE WESTERN CATAPULT;

[katabasis]

[The western catapult tower is well armed, well manned, well maintained, and well aware of its proximity to the oversight of commanding officers. When the distraction starts up on the far side of the bay, only half the tower's force goes rushing down the path to answer the alarm.

Securing and sabotaging this point is evidently going to take some actual effort.]

THE DARK DESCENT;

[katabasis]

[In the great central courtyard of Eione Island's fortress is what appears to be a well. Upon closer inspection however, the dark opening has been barred by a heavy iron grate. There is no lock. There's no need for one, because there is no way to escape from the place which extends below save for by the rope-winch mechanism housed here on the surface.

Eione Island's oubliette is deep and dark. It's a place where people are put to be forgotten.

Lowering into that terrible place is rewarded with the crunch and squish of indeterminate detritus - black things which only grow in the dark, bone shards, and the oppressive damp inherent in the underground. The air is cold and eerily still, tinged with the smell of rot and waste, and the only light is the circle of moonlight overhead and what Riftwatch has brought with them. A branching passage leads away from this central silo, and while the oubliette isn't actually large it's rough-hewn furrows are disorienting.

It also isn't empty. Once or twice, humanoid shapes scatter away before the pool of light can reach them - evidently too terrified to entertain guests or inquiries. Eventually, Riftwatch will find their way to the dead end of one of the passages and there discover the ragged, bone thin young man called Ambrose Valeriantus. He is wearing a pair of magic dampening manacles, and his dark eyes are bright in his painfully drawn face. Two years ago, he might have been handsome.]

Oh good. [He laughs, and then stops abruptly as if aware of how deranged he sounds.] I'd hoped Calpernia might send someone.

ESCAPE FROM EIONE ISLAND;

[katabasis]

[The plan was always to make a cunning escape overland across the width of the island to where the getaway ship would be lying in wait. Someone has even packed a set of line, blocks and tackles, to make the descent down the cliff faces manageable.

And while the ship is right there waiting when the group arrives at the clifftops, unfortunately a contingent of the island's guards aren't far behind. Ambrose, despite being in questionable condition from his time in confinement and exhausted from the demands of the unexpected exercise, manages to sound almost cheerful when he says:]

You know, I've always wondered how this whole jumping into water from a great height thing works out for people in real life. It seems so daring in books.

[hassaran]

[ Yseult is just barely within earshot, as an extremely solicitous maid deeply concerned for her poor weak master's health but of course also respectful of his privacy should be. Which means she is, for once, well out of immediate stabbing range, and with a row of decorative miniature blood orange trees blocking a clear knife-throwing angle. She could close the distance quickly, even in this outfit, but not before Benedict could speak, and not before Idothea could call for the guards and unleash a barrage of fire or lightning or whatever her specialty might be.

So she does nothing, except shift her weight very subtly in preparation, and otherwise continue staring straight ahead into space like a servant definitely too well-trained to be caught hearing vicious gossip about her employer. ]

[altusimperius]

[The gossip about the Artemaeus heir has always laser focused on his hedonism and amorous proclivities, but never has anyone mentioned his other eccentricities, like his wide-eyed, obsessive staring out windows, his heavy, inwardly-focused silence, and how every bite he takes at the table seems to bring him such emotional rapture that he's near openly weeping by the time the meal is through. He speaks only when spoken to, and does so in a detached, stilted manner, as if continuously forgetting there was a conversation at all.

When the Idothea's question is posed, he's draped lazily over his chair and gazing out over the dark island as he smokes, and for several long seconds it seems as if he didn't hear her.
But when he turns his head to face her, his eyes are black with a cold iron clarity.]

How presumptive, [he says, the corners of his mouth twitching into a derisive smirk,] that you should think my dealings your business at all.

[He ashes the pipe on the table.]

Do you always demand the agenda of your betters? I suppose the Elder One reports to you as well.

the voyage there

[altusimperius]

i. [Another day, another dark container. It doesn't take long after they set sail for the resident of the sleeping quarters to become seasick, and he spends about two solid days huddled around a bucket in the corner. He's easily enough maneuvered to a hammock to be restrained there, if that's what they want, but one hopes they're prepared with a mop and possibly a bath for what inevitably results.]

ii. [The seasickness eventually passes, but the malaise doesn't. After all this time, still resigned to asking nothing and complaining never, Benedict rotates between pacing the room like an anxious cat and sitting with his back to the wall, staring at nothing. He's lost significant weight from his skinny frame since he was first confined back in the summer, and that in addition to months of no sunlight and arguably Interesting Circumstances have transformed the proud aristocrat into a gaunt wretch with the gaze of a madman.
He still talks when addressed, but only then.]

iii. [An exception is made on the morning that they first sight the island: the time is soon for the act to begin, and with some difficulty, Benedict has changed into one of his old outfits, which hangs off him ghoulishly but is nonetheless easily identifiable as his own.
He turns to the nearest person and says, in a timid, scratchy voice:]

...my hair's too long.

[katabasis]

[Presumably the last time Idothea Petrus flushed with embarrassment, she was five years old and for her trouble received a stern talking to about the advantages of being inscrutable. Here, she smiles with the graceful faux-penitence of a woman happy to sacrifice the appearance of her pride.]

I've no doubt that were I fortunate enough to find myself in the Elder One's company, that I might ask similarly foolish questions in his presence. [But also.] I meant no harm by it. It's merely something of a curiosity.

[bloodandsand]

[ Poesia is full of graceful exuberance, following her companions with a smile that held an uncomfortable amount of joy for the task ahead of them. ]

What shall we do to draw their attention? Something very loud and showy, I imagine.

[altusimperius]

Your curiosity serves you ill.

[He tamps down the pipe's contents and plucks a candle from its holder to relight it. A strange gesture, perhaps, for someone who can conjure fire.]

Ask my father, if you like. The reasons are not mine to disclose.

[rathercommon]

It's -

[ The quiet, dark-eyed servant girl - who has, to this point, kept mostly silent - speaks up suddenly. And she cuts herself off just as suddenly, and flushes, biting at her lip, turning her eyes downward, bobbing an awkward curtsey at everyone involved. (Kitty does play the part quite well, when she's inclined to play the part.) ]

Begging your pardon, Master Artemaeus. I shouldn't speak. It's just that I get so proud of what we're able to do for you.

[ And then, earnestly - ]

The rift mark, it used to keep him cooped up with some others who had it. It's agony, you see, when you're not near someone else who's got it. But they found me, and a few others, and I'm able to travel with him and let him be free to do business again.

[ She holds her hand out, showing the green mote in it as well. Then she ducks her head, apparently quite embarrassed, and mumbles - ] Sorry, Master Artemaeus.

kitty, assorted prompts

[rathercommon]

also on the voyage there

[rathercommon]

[ Kitty doesn't like sitting idle. She'd learned with Vane's pirate crew, once, back when Vane was still around and before Flint had turned on her (and that's definitely how it went, she thinks, and even in her head it sounds weak). So on the voyage to Eione, she helps work the ship wherever she can, just to take her mind off everything else. So whenever she can be - whenever she's not getting in the way of actual crucial work - she's barefoot in the rigging, helping haul rope, relieving one of the regular sailors so he can get a bit more rest. Or she's doing less glamorous work still - swabbing the deck, chopping potatoes for the stew, anything that can relieve her boredom. ]

Hey - give me a hand with this, will you?

iii

[rathercommon]

[ The closest person is Kitty. It's not a bad choice: while Kitty's definitely not the kindest to him on the ship, nor is she the harshest. And as it happens, part of her education involved learning how to cut the fancy hair of fine lords and ladies, so. ]

What's it supposed to look like?

[altusimperius]

[He doesn't look at her, having long since accepted that he and Kitty are irreconcilable.

He motions toward his jawline with a little slicing gesture.]

About there.

[He seems to sink down a little further, and asks, before he can stop himself:]

..don't you remember?

[rathercommon]

[ Kitty, meanwhile, looks at him with her eyes narrowed incredulously. ]

Don't I have your every hairstyle and fashion preference memorized? No, actually, I don't.

[katabasis]

[There is an inclination toward pinching that shows in her face when the girl starts to speak, but that gives way to a sort of back lit satisfaction given the subject. Idothea smiles at Benedict - how charmingly devout your servants are -, then slides her attention fully to Kitty. From her chaise, she extends her arm in invitation.]

Is that so? Come, let me see.

[rathercommon]

[ Kitty bobs a little curtsey, then looks rather nervously at Benedict, apparently waiting for his permission before acquiescing. You know, as a good servant would do. ]

A Grand Day Out

[bloodandsand]

i. On the Way There

[ Poesia is not terribly useful as far as sailing goes. But she's also enthusiastic and convivial, surrounded by a fascinating amount of things and given to striking up conversation with whoever happens to be nearby. ]

The masts really are incredibly tall, aren't they? I should like to climb them before all of this is over. It must be terribly thrilling to be up so high, don't you think?

ii. Discussions of Jewelry as an Alternative to Mass Murder

[ The world is, of course, full of heretics. It's not surprising, given the iron grip of the Chantry and given her own experience with devotion, she could hardly blame so many for being so devoted to their beloved Divine. But what is troubling, what is horrifically provoking is to be so surrounded by the soft cattle that worship this Corypheus. The diseased stain with his ruined dragon. And since she is posing as a servant, she does have ever so much access to their hostess' truly gorgeous set of kitchen knives.

But she is also not allowed to kill these Tevinters. She finds herself very entranced with them, fat and thin and elegantly dressed and soft skinned. At the moment she is particularly enraptured by their hostess' elegantly long neck. Poesia leans close to one of her comrades, murmuring softly. ]

She would look charming in rubies, don't you think?

[altusimperius]

[He wore it the same for years, but it seems that doesn't matter.

He shakes his head in easy surrender. It was stupid to ask.]

[rathercommon]

[ And Kitty presses her lips together, remembering very keenly why she didn't go down to visit him. This milquetoast behavior is more enraging by far than the aristocratic arrogance had been. ]

Fine. Jaw length. What else.

[altusimperius]

[Benedict meets her eyes with an expression that would confuse an outsider, as it seems equally searching. Then, he gives a nod and a little wave of his hand to permit it.]

They're none the wiser in Kirkwall, [he adds, a bit distantly.] Circumstances being as they may, it's in everyone's best interest that they continue to think I and my people are loyal to their cause.

[He's staring out at the darkness again.]

[altusimperius]

I'll need a shave.

[His eyes are fixed on the far wall.]

[rathercommon]

[ Kitty's eyes don't give anything away - not even to Benedict. There's not a crack in her good-and-faithful-servant routine.

She makes her way over to Idothea, then, carefully holding out her hand for inspection. ]