faderift | scouting mission: opening doors.

The eluvian is housed in an elven ruin that is now underwater. It's near enough to the shore to make retrieval possible, but not so close that it remaining undiscovered by others is strange. It has already been confirmed that there is a clear path from the chamber containing the eluvian to the surface, and the team will be provided with a diagram of that path to study before they leave. How complicated the route is I leave up to you. It can be as simple as exiting the room and swimming up ~20 feet, or it can involve a maze of other corridors to navigate before getting free of the ruin—whatever's fun. If you'd like to complicate things further, the lake could also be home to a school of vicious, Fade-touched pike, or a particularly large sturgeon who has grown too big and too grumpy lurking in the depths not to become carnivorous. Or something along those lines; it's fantasy after all.

The team will also need a lake-side base of operations. The initial scouting reports they'll be provided indicate that this area of the lakeside is only sparsely populated, so while they're not going to be constantly in eyeshot of anyone, people doing a lot of obvious coming and going and camping on the shoreline will stand out if anyone does come by. There are a couple abandoned buildings in reasonable distance that could be used for shelter, but it may be necessary to clear bandits, darkspawn, or local wildlife from those buildings before they can be used. Alternatively, they can take their chances camping on the beach, but will need to be prepared to pose as a party of native fishermen or something similar in case anyone comes asking. Again, which potential hazards (if any) you want to engage with here are up to you.

ESCAPING;

It is a quiet day, in the outskirts of Hossberg. The lake is a broad silver mark on the rolling steppes, perfectly still, save for where newly hatched flying insects alight on its surface, touching down with tiny ripples or dying quickly as lurking fish rise to feed.

Towards the centre, disturbance. Bubbles that rise and break.

A thrashing arm, next, attached to an elf woman who had volunteered to go first through the eluvian. Sabine claws her way to air to gasp it in desperately, less okay about the underwater excursion from mirror, through ruins, to surface than she had anticipated herself being. Kicking in place, she turns in a quick circle, squinting through waterlogged eyes to determine which shore is the nearest. They all seem pretty fucking far.

Frog-leg kicking and slightly uncoordinated windmill arm swimming ensues, fighting against the small travel back she has lashed to her, her own clothing which, while chosen for its lightness, still drags at her as she goes.

EXPLORING;

There is a shack at the edge of the far side. Dry weeds growing in thick around its entrance indicate that it's been long since abandoned, with no evidence of recent activity. The doors themselves are closed with rusty chains and a lock that is probably already too far gone to be coaxed open with more subtle tools.

Peering through a window had shown evidence of wooden boats, hanging from the ceiling, which could prove useful.

Sabine has a prybar wedged where chain latches to wooden slat, hauling her not very considerable weight backwards in an attempt to work it loose. Splinters give, and she swears once, wriggling the prybar loose.

She turns to whoever is with her, and offers it out. Your turn.

RESTING;

They will likely not be able to stay on the lakeside. It's exposed out here, like this. Anyone could see them a mile off.

But on a given day while they work, Sabine supervises from dryland (she has gone in neither boat nor water since that initial entrance, although only from an absence of volunteering rather than strict refusal), or watches their perimeter, or gathers some drywood together to build a fire so that they can eat something warm. It is warmer out here, far warmer, than the Free Marches, but the last grip of winter still smarts skin when the wind blows, with an open sky that does nothing to hold in the natural heat of the world.

Find her feeding twists of dry and dead plantlife into flame, or combing the lakeside for interesting... rocks, or staring out at the wilderness with watchful sharp-eyed attention, bow and quiver lashed to her back.

Edited 2021-03-08 03:55 (UTC)

Having left Sabine to her first attempt with the prybar, Ellis rounds the corner to a shower of splinters. He pauses, a flicker of amusement crossing his face, before he nods seriously in response to the silent order.

"Do we need the door intact, or no?" seems like a crucial point to agree upon, before Ellis takes up the prybar.

There's no reason to assume anyone lives here. Ellis' meandering circuit around the building had yielded nothing but overgrown, browning weeds and dust. But still, before they do some real damage to the structure, he'd like to be on the same page.

"You want to break the door?"

Sabine glances at it speculatively. The wood is old to look at, but the splinters expose decent timber at the core. Still, strapping human men are good for some things. "We could still use it as shelter even so," she thinks out loud, a hand touching the door, pressing it, listening to rusted over hinges creaking.

Very well. She moves back, highstepping through the dense growth of yellowed grass and tangling weeds as she does so.

"I won't splinter it to pieces," he answers, then amends, "Not on purpose, anyway."

If the door gives in the right place, it'll be easy enough to prop closed. Ellis mimics Sabine's inspection, running his hands along the wood, marking the placement of the hinges, the weather-rusted handle.

"If this doesn't work, we try the crowbar again."

A little like hedging his bets, backing away from the idea that his efforts will pay off so immediately. He leans to hold out the crowbar for her to take back, for the moment.

Caric was prepared for a swim, all of them were, really. Caric may have just been the only one excited for it. It's been some time since he swam anywhere, at all; doing so in service of a cause is certainly a treat.

He comes through after Sabine, gasping for breath, before seeing her struggle. He wagers she could do well enough on her own, but he would rather like to help. He swims a bit ahead of her, trying to demonstrate a better-- if far from perfect-- form.

"Like this!" He says between breaths. "Do not be afraid!"

Sabine might yell something back at him about how she's definitely not afraid, but lake water keeps trying to get into her mouth, up her nose, and so the most verbal reply he gets is an ack! and a gasping grunt of acknowledgment.

She struggles her head above water long enough to take in a few calming breaths, before realigning her movements, of kicking her feet the way Caric does. She can sense the strength of that propelling her forward, can feel the resistance of her closed hands more tangibly than she could when simply clawing it at it.

Her arms kind of move with whatever her intuition dictates, but the next time Caric glances back, he will see her not far behind.

"I'm coming," she says, and then spits water with a half articulated Orlesian cuss.

Caric reaches the shore (if it can be called that) before Sabine, but only just. She holds out a hand for her, to pull her forward if she takes it. His reach is long, which he's always supposed has something to do with his ease in the water.

"It will feel very cold," he says, pulling himself out of the water, "be careful of that."

i.

Having decided she has no intention of volunteering herself for retrieving the eluvian, Aenor instead volunteers to find shelter. There's no reason to sleep outside, exposed, with what looks like an abandoned fishing shack an easy walk from the lake. "Come," she says, waving a hand toward the building she's settled on. "But quietly."

ii.

In a quiet moment on the shore, Aenor's pulled her boots and socks off, balling the latter up and stuffing them into the heel of the former. She hasn't, however, bothered to roll up the legs of her trousers before wading into the cool water. Each step is a cautious one, as though she half-expects the sand to disappear beneath her foot.

iii.

There's a fire to dry out around, to cook over, to warm with. Aenor likes it, the way she likes any fire with people around it. She's cheerfully talkative, equally interested in getting others to chat as well.

a. "Someone must tell a story, I think."

b. "Hossberg, it will be the hard part of this."

c. "Ah, so you didn't drown!"

d. "And Riftwatch, you like it?"

e. Or ask her something (try to, anyway).

iv.

It's quiet enough on the lake, but not the endless wilderness of the worst of the desert by any means. Which means--perhaps inevitably--they aren't the only people with an interest in the lake. The man walking toward them is the first stranger Aenor's seen since they came to this place, and though she can't judge his facial expression from this distance, she can tell he's human and coming this way.

"Ah--your Ander, is it good?" she asks in an undertone.

v.

[Wildcard!]

Vanadi watches this unsteady progress from the shore -- fully dressed himself, down to the boots, and with no real intention of changing that. Her cautious movements bring him a smile, though, and after a moment he calls softly, "The water isn't going to bite."

Aenor glances back his way--Vanadi, one of the elves from beyond the rifts--her eyes rolling a little. "Says, I think, a man who hasn't touched it."

"It's cold," he offers with a shrug, as if he hasn't spent over a century on the chill slopes of mountains. "You must be heartier than I, to wade in so eagerly."

She turns--carefully--around entirely, still standing ankle-deep in the water. It's hardly the first time she's encountered a body of water, having grown up along the Lattenfluss, but there's something hesitant in her to walk too far. Not just an inability to swim, though that's certainly part of it.

"This mission, they told you about it?" Aenor answers, teasing. "Everything here, it is under the water."

He heaves an aggrieved sigh, eyes dropping from Aenor to the water itself. He's been trying to avoid considering that part until he absolutely has to, thanks.

"In the world I left behind, there are mages who can breathe water," he says morosely. "And cast spells for warmth, while they're at it. I do wish I had studied magic harder. Or -- at all, really."

"And I wish you the same." How useful that would be, under the circumstances. She beckons him over with a tilt of her head. "Come, you will be used to it. The water, it isn't so cold."

He faintly considers pointing out that there's really no sense in getting his clothing all wet for no reason, just a wade for the sake of water, but -- well. Turning down a beautiful woman is rarely a good idea. Even if it means wet cuffs. He sets to unlacing his boots.

"I do wonder what sort of creatures one finds in water like this," he says thoughtfully, as he does. "Surely nothing man-eating sized, it's not nearly an exciting enough place for that."

"Hmm." She considers that, watching with mild interest as he gives in. "Wild things, I think. Man-eating ones, yes."

"Oh, just what I'd hoped to hear," he says, with a dryness that could not possibly be mistaken for honesty. Boots set aside, pant legs rolled half up his calves, Vanadi finally stands and eyes the water thoughtfully.

"When we go to recover the thing, do you suppose there will be much nudity?" he asks, speculative. "All that wet and heavy clothing afterward sounds awful."

The lake ripples coolly around her ankles, more lazy undulation than anything approaching a wave, and Aenor finds herself tempted to rock back and forth on her heels in time with it. She's taken by the rhythm it gives the world, soothed by it--right up until Vanadi makes her laugh.

"This is what you wonder?" This, from a man who had to be coaxed into removing his boots. "The Anderfels, they're cold at night. Clothing drying by the fire or in the wind, I think, is better than freezing."

Which is to say, yes.

part one; retrieving the eluvian.

sabine. ota.

exploring

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escaping.

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aenor din'adhal | open

ii

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iii party crashers welcome

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crashes party.

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