faderift | vanishing army - the a-team [closed]

WHO: Adrasteia and Athessa
WHAT: Rudely being awoken by Nevarrans
WHEN: earlier in the month
WHERE: Orlais, Fields of Ghislain
NOTES: Report

Searching north/northeast from Ghislain toward the Tevinter border and Lake Stelle.

The whole area they're flying over is farmland, and they'll notice spring work beginning in the fields below them. The villages and small towns that dot it have suffered under occupation much the same as those in the lower Fields of Ghislain that Riftwatch visited in August/Kingsway, and they'll fly over occasional burned fields and ruined buildings. But further south and east they'll also see signs of rebuilding in progress, and may spot a Nevarran patrol or two.

They'll also get hassled by one when they camp for the night, rudely awakened by a party of Nevarran soldiers with Van Markham insignia. But once they convince them that they're Riftwatch (the griffons won't hurt), they'll be allowed to go, with assurances that no big Tevinter force has passed through this area, but a note that their surveillance has seen an uptick in traffic heading from Perendale to Tevinter.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"No," the soldier responds, shaking his head. "But our scouts have reported increased movement out of Perendale, heading north."

"As in towards Tevinter?" Athessa asks. She's making sure Chawcey and Potato stay put, and making sure the soldiers don't get too close either. When Chawcey has finished with the meat and starts head-butting Athessa's back, begging, she shoves his beak away and chastises him quietly.

"Yes, Tevinter is to the north, is it not?" The soldier bites back, bitterly. Clearly this encounter has not been the highlight of his evening. "We haven't any more information than that to share. Whether these are soldiers or refugees or just—" He says some very descriptive, unsavory words in Nevarran. "—Tourists? We do not know. But traffic heading north is always noteworthy, these days."

'Why in the name of the Maker would there be tourists traveling on during a war' is all over Adrasteia's expression but she keeps her mouth shut, having finished healing the solider's hand. The sky darkens in that way it does just before the dawn and she sighs away any consideration for the sleep she's lost due to these foolish Navarrans.

"Seems likely they left via Perendale, then, back to Tevinter. I suppose that will be the sum and substance of our report." Plus a few lines discussing these folks and Chawcey's choice of diet. "Thank you for your help," Adrasteia adds on, because she's feeling the opposite of thankful but also wants the soldiers to leave.

"Do you require anything else of us?"

A liminal silence settles over the Van Markham soldiers for a long moment. A few of the grunts on the periphery exchange glances, while others still eye the griffons warily and try to act like they're pacing away from them because they're securing a perimeter and totally not because they're not keen on having their hands crunched.

Apparently holding hands with Adrasteia isn't enough of an incentive for them. Fools.

After the long moment has run its course, the lead soldier shakes his head. "No. But if Riftwatch plans on being a continued presence in the war effort, it may benefit you to develop some insignia to identify you by. To avoid such inconveniences in the future."

"It's on the list." Athessa rolls her eyes. Of all the stupid things to prioritize. The soldiers disperse with much clanking of plate armor and without any further discussion, and Athessa gives Adrasteia a flat look. "Tourists. Fucking morons."

"They are fucking morons. They do realize there's a war on, don't they?" Adrasteia puffs up her cheeks and sighs; it's so dumb. All of it is so dumb, and could have been avoided if they had just listened to the two of them. "And Riftwatch has, by my understanding, been a part of this conflict since it separated from the Inquisition. Maker forbid they listen to a pair of elves."

She stretches her arms over her head. "Well I suppose I'm awake for the day, how about you?"

Athessa blows a raspberry.

"Pffft. Who'd listen to elves? What've we got to say that matters to shems?" She begrudgingly starts packing up the stuff around her bedroll, then goes to retrieve the kettle that was thrown at the soldiers.

"Yeah, I guess. I don't wanna be, but Might as well."

"Sorry about all this," Adrasteia says, as if she's responsible for the behaviors of the soldiers in the first place. She does feel bad, though. "If we get back early enough there could be naps. I mean, there probably won't be. But there could be."

"You should be sorry, since it's obviously your fault," She says, very sarcastic. She gives Adrasteia a wry little smile and keeps packing up.

"I mean there could be naps now, nobody'd be the wiser when we return right on time."

Adrasteia snorts through her nose, shaking her head. "That's true, but I don't want them coming back and I feel too wired to nap now. If you think you could sleep, however, I wouldn't mind keeping a watch."

Athessa pretends to consider it, pursing her lips and tipping her head this way and that. But no, it isn't fair and it wouldn't make sense to do that.

"Nah. Better to just get back and hope the next job is boring enough to sleep through."

"Alright." Adrasteia smiles in Athessa's direction. "I'm glad you were here, at least." She's not sure that someone human wouldn't have outed her as a Grey Warden to people who've likely fought against them, at this point in the war.

Plus, she just likes Athessa.

Either way, there's a camp to pack up now, and griffons to be properly fed, before they head back to Kirkwall.

"I'm not the one who healed that kid's hand," she points out, and carries some of the gear over to lash to Chawcey's saddle. "Which is a good thing, you know. All I could do is smear some leafy goop on it."

She chuckles to herself about how differently those soldiers' stories would play out if they'd been sent off with a goopy, ruined hand instead of no harm done and a story to tell in bars to impress people.

"Well." Adrasteia shakes her head. "I couldn't just leave his hand like that, even if he did deserve it for being a bit of an idiot and not listening to us. Also, who approaches a beast of that size so brazenly to begin with?"

More gear packing, and her's goes to Potato, who wants to sit on Adrasteia; she allows the griffon this moment, scratching along feathers and petting her beak. "Soldiers taste gross, don't they sweetie? Yes. Yes they do. I'm glad you didn't bother."

At the same moment that Adrasteia is talking to Potato, Athessa is snatching something out of Chawcey's beak and saying, "Get that outta your mouth, bird-brain!"

Chawcey looks offended, and Athessa stares him down for a beat before giving in and ruffling the feathers on his neck affectionately. They do this often.

"I don't think Chawcey thinks anything is gross. Back in Nevarra he kept trying to eat undead dragon flesh."

She can't help it; she laughs, loudly, at watching the standoff between Athessa and Chawcey. And then when Athessa tells her that he'd tried eating undead dragon flesh her laughter reaches to the point of tears streaming down her face and breaths being gasped in between.

It takes her a moment to compose herself, arms wrapped around the griffon in her lap (who is just thrilled with this turn of events, really; Adrasteia too amused to move means she won't be unseated from the elf's lap immediately) and even then, there's an eruption of giggles here and there.

"Oh, Maker." She breathes deep, in and out. "Sorry for that, but I think I needed it. Undead dragon meat, ugh." Adrasteia sticks out her tongue.

vanishing army - the a-team [closed]

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