MOD PLOT ↠ A THOUSAND WRONGS

[faderifting]

WHO: Everyone!
WHAT: Assisting with the aftermath of occupation
WHEN: August through Kingsway
WHERE: Field of Ghislain
NOTES: OOC post. Please use appropriate content warnings in your comment subject lines as needed.

The Fields of Ghislain are, as the name suggests, broad open plains, more flat than not, more grass than trees. There are famous orchards around Arlesans at the southern end, but they fade into grassland and farm land, wide fields of wheat and corn separating quiet farming villages and the occasional bustling market town, the even more occasional country estate.

High summer here has always meant long hot days, dusty roads, and preparations for the harvest. Now it also means recovery from the sudden end to the area's year-and-a-half of occupation by the forces of Corypheus. On first glance, the area appears to have escaped relatively unscathed. There are a few burnt villages here and there, a few new rifts, and the scarred valley where the Battle of Ghislain took place, but there are also crops growing strong in the fields and markets open for business, people going about their lives.

On closer inspection, there's more work to be done. The immediate threats are obvious: an unusual number of rifts and the general thinning of the Veil they signal, small bands of enemies—including bands of darkspawn with red lyrium growths—still marauding through the region, isolated patches of red lyrium to be destroyed and Blight to be contained.

Most places have at least one building that's been destroyed by fire or force, some practically essential—a grain store, an infirmary, a watch tower—some invaluable in other ways—a chantry, a mayor's office, a monument to heroic ancestors. Some places showed more resistance than others, and there whole neighborhoods or even entire villages have been gutted by fire and the ruins shoved over like block towers. Some survivors fled and now return to pick through the debris, while others remained, living in shanties in the ashes waiting for a chance to rebuild. Despite the crops ripening in the fields there are signs of malnutrition in many places as well, stories of crops confiscated to feed the invading troops and only meager rations returned, worse off even than those affected by shortages elsewhere in Orlais.

And it's not just the material that the enemy has taken or destroyed. Every decent-sized village has its missing, people who were arrested and taken away in wagons or simply vanished one day out of the blue. Where there was resistance there were executions to discourage it, and while the inhabitants have already taken down and buried the displayed bodies, there are a few places where there is no one left to do so, or where magic placed remains out of reach but always in sight.

There are opportunities too: the enemy lived and worked here for 18 months. They did their best to cover their tracks when they left, but it was a hasty and unexpected withdrawal, and there is a wealth of information to collect and work through. There are houses they occupied that haven't been entirely cleaned out, papers only half-burned in an abandoned office, a storeroom in an outpost basement they forgot to empty. And there are the people who have been forced to live and work alongside them all this time to be spoken with, the names they've learned and the conversations they've overheard, the training exercises held on their village greens, all to be teased out and taken down.

One abandoned operation commands particular attention: the site that Riftwatch—then the Inquisition—observed on the eve of the Battle might be a shrine to the Old God Dumat. At the time this was a newly-discovered ruin and little could be discerned for certain, but during their occupation the Venatori have undertaken massive excavations. They've uncovered not just a shrine but a significant temple complex, much of it underground. Exploration of the lowest levels will be handled by a particular team, but there is more to see and do besides. The warren of ruins and the remains of the camp outside them must be searched for clues as to the Venatori's purpose here, and a preliminary study made of the site's contents. There are also the slaves who did the back-breaking labor of digging out the complex and now need assistance. Many are locals, who simply need a ride back to their homes. Others the Venatori brought with them from Tevinter, and they will need to be interviewed and local communities persuaded to take them in.

It is an unimaginable amount of work, but Riftwatch isn't doing it alone. The Inquisition still has a large number of noncombatants, many of whom have been sent to help with outreach and rebuilding in particular. The Exalted March, too, has plenty of volunteers that aren't exactly fit for the front lines. There is enough ground to cover for everyone, but there will be times when Riftwatch agents will be working with—or at least alongside—those from the Inquisition and the Exalted March, and orders are clear that they are to maintain good working relations and not start any trouble.

In between all of this there will be long rides by horse or cart from this village to that one over dirt tracks with cicadas buzzing in the sun, sweltering afternoons broken up by sudden, drenching thunderstorms, warm evenings playing pétanque on the green with the locals over a pint of cider. There will be as many wary as grateful, but hopefully by the end of the summer Riftwatch can tip that balance a little bit.

Comments

[murderbaby]

"So glad we're in agreement," Mhavos huffs out, mostly to himself. He manages to squirm up the rope all the way, getting to the top of the mill, just before-

Ca-rrack.

The roof collapses. Mhavos falls, but with hands clasped on the rope, still caught in the two remaining rafters. He dangles from the string, laughing with the utter surprise of still being alive.

"That was not a fall!" He yells down to Ellis, perhaps a little manic around the edges. "I did not fall!"

[heorte]

On the ground, there's a smattering of gasps and shouts from the children. Ellis paces from one end of the mill and back, unable to catch sight of Mhavos. He's dissatisfied with the shouted reassurance, but what else can he really do from the ground?

"Are you stuck where you are?" is the only question he comes up with in the moment, while the children cluster into an enthusiastic huddle. It's hard to tell if they're more shocked about Mhavos' daring or just now grasping the danger.

By contrast, Ellis' tone is still very calm though he is deeply concerned that this is going to end with Mhavos falling to his death in front of half the town's children.

[murderbaby]

"No! No. I am fine!"

He was sent for quite a loop, falling so far, but his strong grip on the rope kept him from suffering anything but a shock. Luckily, wearing gloves allows him to rappel the rest of the way down. His boots hit the ground, and he lets out a sigh, before walking over to try and find Ellis, outside the shadow of the mill.

"I managed to hold onto the rope. A running theme."

[heorte]

Ellis, and Mhavos' audience, are waiting for him on the ground. Ellis has taken a few steps back to squint upwards, breathing out in relief at the sight of Mhavos relatively unscathed.

"How much is up there?"

The account from several of the children has varied, likely inflated by the fact that none of them should have ever been up in the silo to begin with.

[murderbaby]

Mhavos looks up at the scant rafters, the sky peeking between them. "Not terribly much. The goods I was attempting to retrieve likely fell when the roof did."

[heorte]

"Do you want me to try to come up?"

There are fairly decent reasons for Ellis to stay on the ground, not least of which the fact that he's bulky enough to pose a risk to what's left of the top of the silo.

"Or do you want to start throwing what's left down to me?"

One of these options is clearly preferred based off just the peals of excited shouting from their audience.

[murderbaby]

Mhavos rapells the rest of the way down, boots touching rubble and the soft grass that pokes through. "The lockbox filled with spurious contents is more likely among this..." He kicks a brick over with his shoe... "detritus."

The children boo at such a boring conclusion, and Mhavos takes a moment to bow in their direction, with the energy one might extend a certain amount of fingers from a fist.

[heorte]

Ellis' laugh rises above the booing, before he makes to shoo their audience away. A few linger, stubborn, eyes on Mhavos as if waiting for a second act.

"Let me sort it. You've done more than your fair share in this."

And shifting rubble is something Ellis actually is good for.

"Though there's equal chance the lockbox was gone before either of us got here."

[murderbaby]

"Hmm, suspicious, that. They sent an elf to find it, after all, and those sort are notorious thieves." Mhavos is already poking through the rubble, brushing through patches of grass.

[heorte]

"There's always a chance it could have been the Warden," Ellis comments, unbothered as he hoists aside a fallen beam. It's a blessing that Mhavos stayed above rather than accompanied all these heavy items down to the ground.

"I haven't missed that not everyone seems to glad to see the Grey Warden's crest."

Turning to Mhavos, clapping the dust from his palms, he gives an amused shrug before proposing, "If we don't find it, do you want to flip a coin for who's to be at fault?"

[murderbaby]

Mhavos hears the echo of Ellis' laughter-- he barely registered it when it was there, but now that it's gone... it's something to be missed. Mhavos finds himself smiling at the thought, not just Ellis' jesting. His mood seems slightly lighter, and Mhavos can't help but to appreciate it. For Ellis' sake, of course.

"I propose we split it equally," he says, "you at least have some combat experience. I would be doomed entirely."

[heorte]

"Between us," Ellis says, breaking on a grunt as he levers his weight against the splintered boards of a crate to crack it open. "I'll tell you that when you're being run out of a town, it's less about combat than it is about speed."

Glancing up, his gaze moves to the last of their miniature spectators, already drifting into some elaborate game of tag, to Mhavos. There's a flicker of a smile, just a little grim around the edges.

"We have a horse and a sturdy cart. We'll be fine."

[murderbaby]

"While I'm tolerably fast on foot, I'd be eternally grateful for the use of your horse, when we're run out of town." A chuckle, then, "if."

[heorte]

"If," Ellis agrees, as he draws out the dusty contents of the box. "Care to see if any of these are magical?"

They aren't. They're dusty, and some are rather fine: a delicately wrought tea kettle, an embroidered tunic in gold and purple, what might be an oil painting of someone's ancestors...

Things kept safe, but no coin.

[murderbaby]

"Very curious." Mhavos pokes through the contents as well, eyes caught immediately on an bit of parchment. Another area of expertise. "An inventory... and a fair number of things I'm surprised to see in a peasant's trove."

[heorte]

Ellis shakes his head over the gleam of jewelry revealed when Mhavos lifts the parchment.

"One or two of these pieces wouldn't be so strange, but for there to be so much..."

Maybe it's unfair to assume, but Ellis came from a small village similar to this one. The wealth in this box is more than he'd expected to find. It's outsized, considering this village could not have been much even before the war came to it. If not misplaced or held for someone else entirely, then maybe these items are ill-gotten. Ellis doesn't necessarily begrudge the villagers either, but—

"What's on that parchment? Any names we recognize?"