MOD PLOT ↠ The Soldiers of the Demon Charged

[faderifting]

WHO: Everyone!
WHAT: Striking closer to home.
WHEN: Justinian through Solace
WHERE: The Western/Central Free Marches
NOTES: OOC post. Please use appropriate content warnings in your comment subject lines.

WEEK ONE: THE COLLAPSE OF HASMAL

Recently in Hasmal, growing outrage from native Hasmalis over the swelling number of Tevinter refugees within and outside the city has led to a series of smaller violent incidents that went largely unanswered by local authorities, leading to additional targeting of more established Tevinter communities within the city and the makeshift fortification and arming of the camps outside. In the last week or so, after a period of simmering tensions, the situation in Hasmal has boiled over into violent riots. Reports out of the city conflict about what finally caused the rapid escalation, how bad things got, and whose fault they were. But they agree that it very quickly became a dangerous situation that the city authorities utterly failed to bring under control. Fires burned in some quarters of the city and deadly clashes between factions forced uninvolved citizens to barricade themselves in their homes. Some city leaders urged calm and peace while others encouraged supporters to seize the moment and fight for the upper hand. The Grand Vizier was nowhere to be seen. Somehow, amidst the chaos, the gates were opened and in marched the Tevinter army.

The violence, and then even more Tevinter's arrival—supposedly to help restore peace to the city, though it's unclear whether that has actually happened—has caused many to flee the city, particularly the refugee community who had fled from Tevinter once already. With nothing but the Tevinter desert of the Silent Plains to the north, most either jumped ship down the Minanter or came south across the river into Tantervale territory and Wildervale, with some now arriving in Kirkwall with their tales of chaos in the western-most March.

Also, Commander Flint and Scoutmaster Yseult are missing, having gone to meet a contact coming across the Minanter from Tevinter some days ago. They ought to be returning, but neither has been in contact since. In their absence, Ambassador Rutyer and Provost Stark will be running Riftwatch, and can direct Scouting and Forces as they see fit and delegate authority for those operations as necessary.

UNKNOWNS

This is a fast-moving situation, with events clearly already running well ahead of news. With limited resources at hand, intelligence networks in the previously quiet Free Marches have been somewhat neglected by the Inquisition and Riftwatch both. Much remains unclear, subject of wild rumor and conflicting reports from the few sources in the area:

There are stories that the Grand Vizier Rekam Antoninus, ruler of Hasmal, is either complicit in the Tevinter takeover or in league with refugees to try to bring down the city's nobility. There are rumors he has fled the city, or even that he's dead by a half-dozen different hands.

There are similarly conflicting reports about other Hasmal city leaders, with some said to have been encouraging the various factions involved in the riots, trying without success to calm the situation, or using the situation to advance their own interests in one way or another. It's likely that at least a few were cooperating to some extent with Tevinter, though exact numbers and identities can't be known right now.

The size of the Tevinter force in Hasmal isn't yet clear, as the numbers reported by those who fled the city at their arrival range from "most of the Tevinter army" to "five times the size of the entire Tevinter army."

All reports at this point are coming from people who have fled Hasmal, so there's essentially no reliable information about what the situation is like inside the city since Tevinter moved in.

RIFTWATCH'S WORK

As soon as word begins trickling in, Riftwatch will begin sending parties north to investigate the situation. Anyone with a relevant skill or two might be assigned to venture out to:

• AERIAL SURVEILLANCE: Use griffons for aerial surveillance of the region between Kirkwall and Hasmal, to watch for any further movement of the Tevinter army. Using sending crystals, they'll also be able to send back reports of the routes any large groups of refugees seem to be taking. And they'll be charged with assessing the roads and terrain between Kirkwall and Hasmal, identifying the routes an army could take to reach further South and what chokepoints—bridges, narrow passages, castles and fortresses with defenses that might hold—could be exploited to slow them down. (The distance from Kirkwall to Hasmal is too great for the griffons to be flying back and forth every day; aerial teams will be gone for several days at a time, and in the meantime staying on the property of a druffalo farmer in Wildervale or in wilderness camps of their own making.)


• ASSIST TRAVELLERS: Intercept people fleeing Hasmal—to assist them, when necessary, but also to get as much information from them as possible to try to separate rumors from first-hand accounts or find consistencies between stories that might point toward truths. Many of these people will be refugees twice over, already having fled from Tevinter in the wake of Corypheus' takeover, so some may have relevant information about Tevinter as well. And there is always the possibility that some loyal to Tevinter and the Venatori are disguised among the refugees, so they'll need to keep an eye out for anything suspicious.


• ASSIST TOWNSFOLK: Meet with the Countess of Wildervale and local leaders of smaller towns and villages. Those south of Wildervale may need to be alerted about the waves of travelers they're about to see, while those north of Wildervale will have been reached by refugees before Riftwatch and may be overwhelmed by the sudden swell of visitors and potential long-term residents. Some of those fleeing Hasmal may be settling into these villages for the long haul due to exhaustion or a lack of resources, while many others are terrified of Tevinter at their heels and want to go further south to put at least one major city between them and Hasmal. It's a valid fear, so in addition to discussing the refugee situation and how many more people the villages can viably feed and house, Riftwatch teams will need to help assess their defenses and escape routes if the invasion pushes further south, ideally without causing a panic.

Meanwhile, in Kirkwall, those who aren't suited to fieldwork or who are between trips out of the city will:

• ATTEND MEETINGS: The Viscount, Kirkwall's nobility, and City Guard representatives in Viscount's Keep will be meeting for long hours to discuss whether or not Kirkwall will be able to accept refugees (and to what extent) and the city's defenses and fortifications. Riftwatch won't have any formal say in these decisions, but its representatives may be able to provide information as it becomes available and maybe sneak some opinions in there as well.


• READY LOOKOUT TOWERS: Assist the city with transporting supplies to and chasing bandits out of rarely-used guard towers in the Vinmarks.


• ORGANIZE RIFTWATCH'S EFFORTS: Amass, organize, and disseminate the information being relayed back from the teams in the field—for example, making sure the Riftwatch teams advising refugees on which villages and cities will be able to take them in aren't directing them all to the same place and causing it to become overwhelmed.

There are also a few specific missions that will be assigned to those with suitable skills at the end of the week. Based on the available information, teams will be sent to Hasmal and to Tantervale to accomplish the following:

• HASMAL AERIAL SURVEILLANCE: The Hasmal team will travel by griffon to conduct fly-over surveillance of the city and the territory to the north and west, to try to gather information about the Tevinter forces. From griffonback, the team may occasionally spot Tevinter scouting parties or small clusters of soldiers that can be picked off or harassed, whether from the air or by landing to confront them.


• HASMAL GROUND SURVEILLANCE: The griffon team will also be carrying passengers, a small team who they will have to stealthily drop into Hasmal so that they can spend two days gathering information about the situation in the city itself before they're picked up by the griffons once again.


• TANTERVALE OUTREACH: The Tantervale team will try to meet with Tantervale's leadership to coordinate defense and relief efforts. They'll travel by horseback (griffons would only remind folks how weird Riftwatch is) and work through diplomatic channels and court backchannels to try to gain an audience with the Lady Chancellor and/or her ministers and persuade them of the benefits of working together.

These missions will be interrupted by the red lyrium dragon, which will first arrive over Hasmal just as the griffon riders are collecting their spy passengers for departure. The dragon will chase the griffons off before continuing on to Tantervale, where the team in the city will be forced to flee its attack and escape from the city.



WEEKS TWO & THREE: THE RUIN OF TANTERVALE

After the news of Tevinter's takeover of Hasmal, its closest neighbor, Tantervale, is calling a muster of whatever fighting-age men are left in its territory. Most of Tantervale's soldiers have previously joined the Exalted March, leaving the city-state only lightly defended. Whoever remains is ordered to arm themselves and meet outside the city within the week to protect against the threat of Tevinter incursion, or possibly even to threaten to join any supposed 'peacekeeping' force in Hasmal. The exact plan is unknown, but the citizens of Tantervale—known across Thedas for their religious zeal—appear eager to answer the call to defend their home and any fellow devotees of the Chantry from the dangerous northern heretics.

But in the end, how many they manage to attract to this makeshift defensive force hardly matters. The gathered host is powerless to stop the sudden, devastating attack of the corrupted high dragon. The huge, red-lyrium-infected beast—known to be under the command of Corypheus for some years now, but rarely seen since it perched triumphant atop the Archon's palace in Minrathous 3 years ago—emerges above Hasmal before flying the short distance east to Tantervale and laying waste to that city.

Simultaneously, confused reports are reaching Riftwatch from both Orlais and Ferelden, indicating an array of calamities: scattered across both countries, several small villages and their fields were recently set aflame, an important bridge over the Drakon River destroyed in Ferelden, a noble family and their entire staff found hanging evenly spaced from rafters in their estate not far from Halamshiral.

UNKNOWNS

Riftwatch agents present at Hasmal and Tantervale during the early stages of the dragon attack witness its beginning, but as they have to run for their lives, little is immediately known about its outcome. Given the destruction they did see, it's believed that Tantervale was a massacre, resulting in many, many deaths and much of the city destroyed by fire and corruption. A wave of people have now joined the stragglers from Hasmal fleeing south, but how many of them actually managed to escape the city of Tantervale itself as opposed to its surrounding countryside is unknown, and among those who survived, many begin to show signs of darkspawn corruption on the road.

Per the reports coming from the South, the leaders in both Ferelden and Orlais initially respond as if being invaded before realizing that the incidents were not the beginning of a larger military push. It will take some time for it to become clear that all of these events happened on the same day as the assault on Tantervale, mostly by individual actors.

RIFTWATCH'S WORK

Most of the work Riftwatch was doing in Week 1 will continue in Weeks 2 and 3, while pivoting or expanding to include dealing with the situation in Tantervale as well:

• ASSIST TRAVELERS & TOWNSFOLK: The attack on Tantervale will essentially double the number of new refugees fleeing south, testing the work Riftwatch did in Week 1 and greatly increasing the strain on communities in Wildervale. Some they may be able to persuade to make do and accommodate more fellow Marchers, while others will reach the end of either their supplies or their patience or both, and Riftwatch agents will need to help calm tensions and find alternatives.


• SHORE UP DEFENSES: Efforts to shore up defenses in the region will ratchet up, and Riftwatch agents will be called on to do things like help train emergency village militias, build makeshift defenses, and provide advice on what to do in case of dragon attack.

For those in Kirkwall:

• ASSIST ARRIVING REFUGEES: Pressure on Kirkwall itself will increase as the first refugees arrive at the city and an even greater number look likely to do so in the near future. Kirkwall has a fairly fraught recent history with refugees from a crisis—the influx of Blight refugees from Ferelden caused a nativist backlash that went on for years. In this case, the locals will be somewhat more friendly because the refugees are their fellow Marchers, as well as slightly more frightened because this crisis isn't happening across a sea. But there will still be a fairly tepidly charitable response to the needs of incoming people, and those escaping Hasmal who are clearly of Tevinter origin will have an especially difficult time. Riftwatch's help will be needed in connecting the new arrivals with those who are willing to help them and aiding in the construction of some temporary structures and camps for those without other means of housing themselves.


• PREPARE FOR THE WORST: Riftwatch will be called upon by the Viscount's office to work with the City Guard to review Kirkwall's defenses, work on emergency upgrades, help man observation posts further afield to provide early warning of any imminent attack. For the time being, a regular rotation of Riftwatch members will be sent to keep watch at some of the further towers, since their sending crystals will allow them to pass along more information more quickly than the warning fires. There will also be a lot of discussion about how to handle a dragon attack--with the expectation that Riftwatch will take a lead role in defending against any such attack.

Elsewhere, Riftwatch will send teams to:

• STARKHAVEN: Believed to be the most likely next target for assault other than Kirkwall. Riftwatch will send a team to meet with current leadership to offer to provide mage support against a potential dragon attack, coordination of defensive efforts, and to learn how Starkhaven plans to handle Tantervale refugees.


• OSTWICK, MARKHAM, HERCINIA, ANSBURG, & WYCOME: Too far to have been directly affected yet. Riftwatch will send representatives to court to try to meet with leaders to discuss coordinating efforts across the region for mutual defense against Tevinter, encouraging them to raise soldiers, shore up defenses, and take in refugees.


• FERELDEN & ORLAIS: By the end of Week 3 it will be clear that what happened in Orlais and Ferelden is likely a diversionary tactic, meant to compel them to keep their attention at home rather than throwing too much of their weight behind assisting the Free Marches, but a few people will be sent to investigate the sites of some attacks for any evidence of how they were coordinated and to be sure further attacks aren't impending.

(OOC Note: For attacks in Ferelden and Orlais and for small villages around Hasmal and Tantervale, you're welcome to invent the names of these places and invent details of what exactly happened without checking in with us. If your character is from one of these areas, you're also welcome to say their hometowns or places they're familiar with were affected, as long as: (1) it isn't a place big enough to be on the canon map of Thedas and (2) if someone else's character is coincidentally from the same place, you check with them first.)



WEEKS FOUR & FIVE: THE MARCH ON STARKHAVEN

The situation in the Free Marches continues to deteriorate rapidly. With Tantervale now more rubble than city, nothing substantial stands between the Tevinter force in Hasmal and either Kirkwall, home of Riftwatch, or Starkhaven, the cultural and financial heart of the Marches. An advance on one or both of those cities is believed to be the next logical step, but nobody knows for sure which it's going to be or whether it's going to come in the form of an attack by dragon or just ("just") an army.

Reports from the Riftwatch teams in and over Hasmal at the end of Week 1 spotted signs of that army readying to move, and further griffon reconnaissance during Weeks 2 and 3 confirmed that with Tantervale out of the way the army is now moving quickly. Their path is clearly pointed east toward Starkhaven. Like Tantervale, Starkhaven is lightly-defended, much of its forces—along with its ruler, Prince Sebastian Vael—in Orlais with the Exalted March.

Help from elsewhere is unlikely to arrive in time. Those Marches who might have been best positioned to support Starkhaven in its time of need find themselves with problems of their own, as coastal communities in Ostwick and Hercinia suffer a rash of brutal and unusually well-organized pirate attacks. The port towns of Torbay and Ogwell near Ostwick and Noli near Hercinia take the brunt of it, sacked and burned by marauders. There are several attacks on shipping reported as well, with prizes taken from normally safe waters where the Waking Sea meets the Amaranthine. Both city-states have increased naval patrols and are now on alert, but they're looking outwards, not inland.

UNKNOWNS

How quickly reinforcements will arrive. Agents and Inquisition contacts in Orlais report that the Exalted March is now aware, and that there are urgent debates among the commanders about how to react. Prince Sebastian Vael is thought to be planning to return imminently, but precisely how long that will take—and how many men he will bring with him—remains unknown.

RIFTWATCH'S WORK

• SLOWING THE ADVANCE: Riftwatch will do its best to slow the enemy advance and buy Starkhaven time to prepare. Without the numbers to engage the host directly, teams will instead be tasked with making the journey as difficult as possible by creating obstacles along the way: think rockslides, blown bridges, washed out roads, felled trees clogging the river, sabotaged boats and wagons, and so forth. Traps or small guerrilla-style attacks may be laid at some of these points, but with strict orders not to risk it unless conditions allow Riftwatch the advantage to attack swiftly and then escape again. The goal is to harass and pick off low-hanging fruit, not get caught up in an unwinnable battle.


• PREPARING STARKHAVEN: Preventing an attack on Starkhaven seems impossible, but Riftwatch can at least help the city prepare for it. At this point a siege is the best option, but it will mean being (or at least looking) strong enough to withstand an initial assault. Top priorities are:
  
  • Reinforcing city defenses. These efforts were already underway by Week 2, but will become far more urgent, and leaders will be much more eager to hear from Riftwatch anything they know about the enemy forces.
  
  
  • Stocking the city. This includes bringing in supplies to prepare for the siege they now hope comes, whether by wagon or boat or griffon, and Riftwatch may even be asked to help negotiate with merchants and farmers to get deals done and goods delivered faster if possible.
  
  
  • Bolstering numbers. They need all the fighting manpower they can get, so Riftwatch will be helping recruit by explaining the situation, the context of the war, and encouraging anyone able to fight to help, and then transporting them from the countryside to the city walls as fast as possible. Bringing in fighting men means more mouths to feed, so Riftwatch will also be asked to help ferry vulnerable people out of the city to safety in other Marches. At first this effort will focus on the young and old with political importance, but it will be expanded (if Riftwatch pushes and also if they work fast enough to make it feasible) to include young and old of all classes.
  
  
  • Helping keep the peace and avoid a panic. Between the news of the on-coming army, the rash of high-profile assassinations (see below) and the horrific fate of Tantervale, the people of Starkhaven are understandably on edge. The mood in the city is one of barely suppressed terror, and city officials are anxious to avoid any incidents that might light a spark and distract from necessary preparations. Riftwatch will be asked to assist the guard in patrolling public areas where people tend to gather and help defuse situations, from breaking up brawls and preventing theft and hoarding of supplies to chasing off an obnoxious crier who won't stop stirring up fears with his vivid tales of how he received his scar at the hands of the vicious, unstoppable Tevinters.


• PROTECTING THE COUNTRYSIDE: The enemy journey through the Marches isn't as orderly as it was in Orlais. Parties of enemy soldiers and mages are veering south (occasionally north, into the strip of Marches before the Antivan border, but mostly south) across the river to attack travelers, sack villages, burn farms, and generally cause chaos. This will also involve periodic dragon attacks in the regions between Hasmal, Wildervale, and Starkhaven. These attacks are sudden and brief, hitting random locations, causing death and damage, and leaving as quickly as they arrived. Riftwatch agents traveling through the region for any purpose will need to be on guard, and teams will also be tasked to help patrol the countryside and major roads to protect against enemy attacks. Some teams may be stationed in towns and villages for days at a time, ready to respond to any reports of enemy attacks nearby and coordinate via crystal.

And in the midst of this work, there will be some additional specific missions:

• STARKHAVEN ASSASSIN: An assassin is stalking the streets of Starkhaven. Four prominent citizens have been murdered in the past two weeks, including two high-ranking guard captains, a celebrated knight who won the Grand Tourney not long ago, and Lord Kennech, a frontrunner to replace Lord Greer as regent. The murders have been brazen and bloody, not identical but each marked with the sigil of a prominent family drawn in blood, the first (over Lord Kennech) being the symbol of House Harimann, now most famous for having arranged the murders of Prince Sebastian Vael's family in a coup attempt in 9:31. The other houses referenced similarly have prominent betrayals and power-grabs in their history. No one is quite sure what any of it means, but it has certainly set the city even further on edge and has suspicions between members of the ruling class nearing a high. As a neutral party, Riftwatch will be asked to help provide security for potential targets.


• DRAGON TRACKING: Corypheus' dragon has rarely been sighted very far from him, and its presence in the Free Marches raises the possibility that he's somewhere nearby. A few different small teams on griffon- and horseback will attempt to track it to where it's resting between its excursions to terrorize the countryside, with the hope that Corypheus is there and this may present an opportunity to confront him directly with fewer fortifications.


• FIREBOMBING THE ARMY: As the army nears Starkhaven, another griffon-based team will make one last push to slow them down. The evening before they inevitably reach the city, the team will fly over their camp with mages, Antivan Fire grenades and breakable flasks of oil, and anything else they can come up with to rain literal fire on the Tevinter camps.

WEEK SIX: FALLING ACTION

The Tevinter force finally arrives at Starkhaven. After all the work to delay the enemy and speed preparations, the city is ready to hold fast against them at least until Prince Sebastian can return from Orlais with the army and (they hope) the Exalted March in tow. The Tevinter force, clearly still hoping to take the city before those reinforcements arrive, sets up camp as if for a siege but then launches a pre-dawn attack in hope of breaching the gates. This is repelled, but periodic assault (mostly magical) on the city walls continues—thus far with little effect.

Now that the enemy has arrived at Starkhaven, there isn't much more Riftwatch can do to help directly. The force is still too large for them to take on, and while they can get away with some limited griffon stealth missions in and out of the city, the large-scale operations of previous weeks are no longer possible. Prince Sebastian and the fastest part of his forces will arrive by the end of the week, and he will then take the lead in determining how to defend Starkhaven. He'll be happy to talk to Riftwatch about what they've seen and done in the interim and will be grateful for their efforts on behalf of his city. But there's a lot for him to figure out at present, and coordinating the type of smaller-scale work Riftwatch is best suited for isn't top of his agenda at the moment. Essentially, he'll be in touch.

RIFTWATCH'S WORK

All agents in and around Starkhaven are pulled back just ahead of the Tevinter force's arrival, along with any last group of vulnerable citizens they're able to get out. Riftwatch will continue to put more focus than it previously had on the Free Marches, with increased patrols and surveillance, and will keep an eye on the refugee situation as things develop. The enemy presence in the Marches will continue to cause trouble, with occasional parties of soldiers and mages marauding, posing new hazards closer to home than before that will periodically require Riftwatch's attention. And the situation in Starkhaven will continue to develop and may require more assistance in the future. But otherwise, it's more or less back to business as usual for now, just with a new set of issues added to the pile.

Comments

Silas/Richard Dickerson

[nonvenomous]

[ starters below, hmu if you'd like to plot something. ]

Week 1 - Hasmal - FITCHER

[nonvenomous]

The room is only half-tossed, the inn underfoot alive with raucous laughter and the pounding of nationalist boots to the beat of a lively song about Tevinter refugees.

Refugees, what we gonna do?
Feed ‘em to goats like the Avvar do!

They’re on the second verse when the man Silas is wrapped around the throat of thinks to bull rush them both headlong into the flipped mattress, bursting it at the seams.

Straw shrapnel rattles across the far wall.

He’s built like a bronto and purple in the face, one violin-sized boot lashed out to kick over a nightstand with its open drawers spilling out onto the floor with a great clatter and tumble of cheaply-bound chants. Dick has him from behind, now beneath, twisting between a side of beef and straw stuffing while this man, mark, plant, whatever, claws at him for purchase

and finds -- at Silas’ hip -- a dagger.

ellis.

[heorte]

[ content to follow. holler at me if you want to plan something specific. ]

ota, pt1.

[heorte]

WEEK TWO / TANTERVALE DEFENSES

As enthusiastic as the Tantervale recruits might be, there is still much to be done. Many have never lifted a sword in their life, and the call to action is a confused, jumbled thing. And then there is the matter of Tantervale itself and the surrounding villages, none made to withstand an attack—

There is plenty of work to be done.

In the midst of it, Ellis can be found training recruits outside of the city as they arrive in their makeshift sparring yard, or in village squares. Or he can be found hammering walls, constructing defenses that might slow down an army and make it more difficult for invading men to make a clean sweep through a village.

Evenings find him tired, but usually alert, sat up around a campfire discussing strategy. While Ellis knows very little about fighting dragons, he has a fair amount of experience dealing with overwhelming numbers, how to survive the worst of what might come.

He's easily to find, so drop in at your leisure.

WEEK THREE / RETREAT

Tantervale is rubble and ash, and there is nothing further to be done for it.

A failure, something that has cost them all dearly.

In the midst of the scorched and bedraggled survivors, Ellis can be found providing assistance as needed to refugees and Riftwatch members alike. He's shucked off breastplate and pauldrons, all the pieces stowed away for the moment. If he's still more or less covered in ash and favoring one scorched side of his body as he moves, Ellis seems largely unconcerned about it.

The luxury of being completely off his feet can wait until they're in a better position than exposed among refugees on the road.

WILDCARD

[ feel free to wildcard me with any of your hearts desires during this timeframe, or slide into my DMs to ask for a specific starter. ]

derrica.

[tender]

[ content to follow. holler at me if you want to plan something specific. ]

ota, pt1.

[tender]

WEEK ONE / VINMARKS

At a certain point, the tower can be see at a distance. Each one they've visited thus far has been just a little dingy, a little bit in need of repair full stop, nevermind the occupants needing to be evicted.

Swaying in the saddle, Derrica twists around to look back and ask, "Do you think it's bandits in this one, or just crows?"

Just. As if their entire scuffle with bandits in the first tower hadn't been made harder by screaming birds.

WEEK TWO / REFUGEES

All these people fleeing their homes. It's hard to see, even knowing it's the right thing. But as clusters of people come forth in drips and drabs, preparing to wind their way towards Kirkwall, the kind of help they solicit from Derrica begins to range from strapping parcels down securely onto their mules or holding crying children or—

"Can you fix a wagon wheel?" is the question she's posing now, grimacing slightly. Derrica cannot fix a wagon wheel. Surely there's someone, but no one seems to know if the wheelwright is already gone or if Aston had fled the night before, as he's just as near a wheelwright so in a pinch—

And so on. Derrica's heard three variations on such stories so far this morning.

WEEK THREE / THE WORST

The dragon had been present in Nevarra, but Derrica hadn't seen it then, preoccupied with the dead attempting to murder them.

This time she saw the creature swoop low and belch fire all along a row of houses before she'd turned and fled along with the last dregs of townsfolk that had been left.

Now, with the dragon gone, there's nothing to do but try and mop up what's left. Which means expending her strength on healing, in whichever form is most welcome.

"Sit down," is brisk, her voice tight with worry. "Let me see whatever is hurting most."

Maybe she can't heal every single thing, but she can staunch the most severe, and bandage the rest.

WILDCARD

[ feel free to wildcard me with any of your hearts desires during this timeframe, or slide into my DMs to ask for a specific starter. ]

john silver.

[hornswoggle]

[ content to follow. holler at me if you want to plan something specific. ]

ota, pt1.

[hornswoggle]

WEEK ONE / PAPERWORK

As is his habit, John has taken up a place at a corner table in the main hall of the Gallows. Across the tabletop is an assortment of papers, some weighted down by tea pot and cup, some bearing John's notes in angular scratches along the margins. The tea is cold by now; John hasn't reached for it in some time.

This set up has always been meant as a way of making himself easily accessible, to be seen and to be approached and interrupted as it occurred to anyone passing. But now, it's apparently gained some untility in the opposite direction, as John glances up at the first set of passing steps and hails them with a wave of the hand as he lifts a piece of parchment from the table.

"Tell me, what does this map look like you to? Is that blotch supposed to indicate they've directed refugees to Markham or to Ostwick, or perhaps to some nebulous area between them that I might have to guess at?"

Someone's handwriting is either very bad, or someone was filling out this report via griffonback. Either way, it's anyone's guess as to where the refugees in question were directed.

WEEK TWO + THREE / REFUGEES

The stream of incoming Marchers is unending. This isn't exactly a surprise, but it's still a grim kind of marvel.

With a pair of flush-faced farmers dispatched towards the docks, John takes a few sideways steps to ease down into a seated position on the low wall bordering a set of stairs. He shakes out the worn piece of parchment in his hand, then crosses out a last option with a bit of charcoal.

"I've several more entries on this list, but then someone is going to have to go back and make a second loop through Lowtown to persuade those who said no the first time to open their doors to some new arrivals," John is saying now, tone light and somewhat unconcerned. "Care to flip a coin for it?"

Not exactly a serious proposal. Exhausted or not, John is still more interested in the idea of wheedling people into agreeing to his objectives than he is to dealing with displaced families.

WILDCARD

[ feel free to wildcard me with any of your hearts desires during this timeframe, or slide into my DMs to ask for a specific starter. john is going to be in kirkwall for the first three weeks, so hit me with any of your homefront needs whether here or by crystal. ]

nikolai lantsov.

[rezni]

[ content to follow. holler at me if you want to plan something specific. ]

closed

[radicans]

I am. [ familiar with their destination. Maud replies with, she hopes, less reluctance or regret in her tone than she feels about that fact. She'd had less than zero desire to return to Tantervale, especially as an emissary of Riftwatch, but had felt obliged to volunteer given that no one else in the organization seems the slightest bit familiar with the place. As evidenced by the team they've sent, though at least these rifters seem both willing and able to make a good impression.

And so she finds herself on the road to what is, officially, her home, face shaded from the sun by a wide-brimmed summer hat, talking to a man from the Fade. ]

You'll find it quite different from Kirkwall, I'm afraid.

sidony venaras.

[indissection]

( threads here! feel free to msg/plurk for something or just hit her up wherever she is on the plotting post. )

starkhaven. gabranth.

[indissection]

[ Sidony isn't often the kind to care about who she is put with on missions - she is a healer and has become accustomed to meeting with many people, learning of people by face rather than, perhaps, by name and reputation - but when she does know someone she is to work with she will take care of them. It is what happens when she realises one of her companions is the dear, darling Gabranth himself is to come to Starkhaven.

It doesn't take much at all for her to gather her supplies in her little bag, hair tied up in her new pretty pins, and trot along to find him. It would be preferable to get him alone again, she thinks, if only so that she can peer at his face and make certain that he's well after the last few weeks and all that came before it. For some reason she has the image in her head that he is not the type to necessarily ask for help if he needs it.

Thankfully, finding people you have been teamed with is not the most difficult. While Sidony has kept herself away from much of the danger - she is well aware that her strengths do not like in combat and warfare but in her hands and her words - but she's a touch run down, a little tired, a little frustrated and on edge. It means she's a little more purposeful when she finds him, reaching to grab his arm and tug at him almost immediately.

Rudeness? Of course not. She simply has business with him. ]

Darling. With me a moment, please?

james holden

[acreage]

[ starters tba! hmu for plotting. ]

ota

[acreage]

WEEK ONE: ON THE ROAD FROM HASMAL

He'd wanted to come north as soon as news of the trouble started trickling down. Despite Ellie's interest, he never spent much time with the griffons even after seeing them; and, besides, his interest lies with the refugees. He'll always be found amongst them, hard to make out for the press of people: maybe speaking in soothing tones to a child (or, at least once, carrying one on his shoulders), or having a more urgent conversation with a haggard-faced adult, looking for information, or handing out anything he possibly has to offer. It's not enough, of course; but he tries.

Or maybe it's growing dark, and he sits somewhere for a rest — or is awake, keeping watch, with others from Riftwatch — as he says, soft,

"How many do you think Kirkwall can take?"

Can, only part of the question. Will, is of course another. Both out of their hands, at present.

WEEK TWO: TANTERVALE OUTREACH

Well, this is frustrating.

Which isn't entirely unexpected, or even unfamiliar: but disappointing, all the same. He tries to be patient with the people who actually bother to listen to them, but at least once bursts out with something like Today, it's Hasmal, but tomorrow it could be you. We need to be working together to make sure that doesn't happen. We have the same enemy.

(He'll feel worse about that one in a couple of days.)

"We're wasting our time," he'll say, frustrated, at some point away from the court, to another representing Riftwatch.

WEEKS TWO AND THREE: THE FALL OF TANTERVALE

This part of the city isn't actively on fire, at least at the moment, but it's smoldering. He has some scraps of fabric, a bucket of water, and keeps his eyes on the building in front of them.

"They said there still people back here. Someone might still be trapped in there."

James Holden may be aware that he can't save every person in city, but it's debatable how much he's taken that to heart.

WILDCARD

[ feel free to come up with any scenarios in any of the locations over the timeframe, or plot something for later in the invasion with me! i'm down for brackets or prose; i'll match you. ]

margaery tyrell

[molineux]

[ starters to follow. lmk if you'd like to plot something! c: ]

ota: weeks 1 | 2 | 3

[molineux]

I. TANTERVALE OUTREACH

There's little point in blowing huffs and puffs towards a party that will never listen, and while Margaery might attempt a more diplomatic endeavor on all fronts - it's difficult not to feel the urgency in the restless energy that's buzzing in the Chancellor's court.

Hm.

Perhaps she can use this as a lever of sorts.

In no time at all, she will be found mingling with the courtiers, most animatedly telling the story of her great-grandfather, who commanded a military force her world trembled to behold, only to fumble into a premature death when his commanders - wretched, selfish men, you see - could not come to an agreement about their next strategy.

"Their pride," she says with great solemnity; only someone who knows her usual expressions may see a hint of exaggeration in the sorrowful curve of her brows, a slight undercurrent of mockery in her gentle voice. "was their undoing. Whilst they fought amongst themselves, they were ambushed by their enemies and overwhelmed."

Her eyes almost sparkle when she meets another rifter's. A second later, it's obvious it's an impressive build-up of crocodile tears, one of which artfully trails down the curve of her cheek before she excuses herself from the group.

"Too heavy-handed, you think?"

II. ON THE ROAD

Sleep evades her in a way that's familiar.

She recognizes it to be her body's defense system on high alert in moments of danger; after the Sparrows took to waking her up often during the nights as a form of torture, it's never quite forgotten the immediate, ugly rush of adrenaline, nor the overwhelming fear that death would be looming over her shoulder.

She exhales, a small sound of frustration, before she evidently gives up, pushing herself into a seated position. Her mind aches for rest, eyes heavy with longing. But Margaery takes comfort in the knowledge that she's not alone when she wanders towards the fire, taking care not to seat herself too closely.

"Are you also unable to sleep?"

III. OPEN

[ also super open to writing customized starters so pls lmk if you're interested! Marg will be focused on refugee care, organizing chains of supplies, and diplomatic efforts. she's also signed up to head to hercinia for weeks 2 & 3. ]

Tiffany Hart

[fairforce]

[Starters for the weeks/projects/misc will be below, happy to make specific plans/threads just lmk]

OTA | WEEK ONE/TWO - on the way to Hasmal

[fairforce]

WEEK 1 - outside of Wildervale.
[They're bound for Hasmal, but the road to Hasmal is the road that cuts through Wildervale, and all the little villages between Hasmal and Wildervale lie off that road, too.

And on the road are the refugees. The trickle of their number quickly becomes a flood, people on horse and in carts and on foot, pulling wagons and pushing wheelbarrows and carrying bundles, or carrying nothing at all.

Whoever is unlucky enough to travel in the company of Lady Seeker Theophania Hart will find their way to Hasmal is very slow. Tiffany stops for anyone that calls to her. She gives away her food, she gives away her blanket, and then her other blanket, she gives away her spare socks. We have to help. She says it so often it becomes a mantra.

Two hour's ride from Wildervale, they come upon a thin man with a screaming baby strapped to his back and a cart with a wheel stuck firmly in the mud of the road. The line of refugees pass by him, a parade of equal misery. Tiffany pulls up her horse and gives a look to her traveling companions as she starts pulling off her gloves again.]

We have to help. Come with me.

WEEK 1 - outside of Hasmal.
[Night comes too quick, but the dark isn't dark. Torchlight is everywhere, lanterns swaying from their posts on rumbling wagons, and in the fields and copses of trees beside the road, campfires flicker like warmer starlight.

The horses are tired. They have to rest before they will reach Hasmal. But the next village is so full of people--people sleeping in the streets, down every narrow lane, tucked up against barrels and bales of hay, people in hay lofts and on the stone steps of the crude country chapel, where the doors stand open to reveal--yes--more people, sleeping in the pews and on the floor and sat against the walls.

Tiffany stops there. Her tabard and her boots are thick with mud. Too many stops on the road. She peels off one of her gloves and passes her hand over her face.]

Where will they end up?

[It's not really a question. It's more like a prayer. Please, Andraste. Help us. Help them. They have to talk to these people, too. Everyone has a story to tell. They've heard it, all up and down the road. The army was bigger than they expected. The army was what they expected. The screaming started when the gate was opened. The screaming started before the gate was open. The fire ate everything. Tiffany had held hands with a girl whose hair had burned away, leaving her with a charred tonsure and burns that her mother was treating with a poltice that smelled of honey and bran, a thick sweet smell that twisted with the stench of burned flesh. Where will they end up?]

Astarion

[illithidnapped]

[starters rolling out chronologically here over the course of the plot, hit me up on plurk or discord if you'd like to plot out more in-depth in advance.]

WEEK 1 | OTA

[illithidnapped]

I: FIRST FLIGHT | CLOSED TO GRIFFON RIDERS

“Shit,” Astarion whispers hoarsely, fingertips knitting tight as knots in the fabric, leather, cloth or— whatever he can grab at of the person seated before him on griffonback, his heart hammering miserably in his throat as the world beneath narrows to a pin point in soaring ascent. Cityscape becoming little more than spots. Flecks of dust.

Somewhere in his boots, his toes are curling. Fingers already reaching forward to also try and fit themselves against the edge of the saddle and all the beast’s tack. Insurance in the most obvious sense. He’s only just found the flush of life again after centuries without, falling to his death in flight would make for a disappointing end. No, an entirely unacceptable end.

“Strewth— ” another wheezing breath as a few flaps send them dipping, his grip gone crushing as much as his arms can seemingly manage.

He’d expected this to be more secure. More— hells, he doesn’t know what he expected. This isn’t the same as stumbling across the deck of an illithid airship, but he can’t seem to keep the thought of crashing from his mind all the same. Every movement a plummet, every shift of leather cording a promise of their downfall.

II: HUNTING PARTY | HASMAL

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

He sinks one of his daggers neatly into the crumpled spine of a cooling scout’s body, laid out beside where he sits in bent grass, the gesture a cruel mockery of snapping a blade down into the wood of a tavern table, sharp teeth gleaming white in the moonlight when he grins.

The only part of him that doesn’t seem to be flecked with blood or viscera.

“Pity they all died so quickly. I could’ve stood to listen to their screams a little longer.” His tone is conversational, as relaxed as every well-spent breath he takes, leaving the fog of it to curl in the crisp night air. Nothing like the elegance of a good murder to get the blood racing, and the heart beating ever so passionately. He feels off his leash at last. “You know, with lighting like this and the mood being what it is, it’s almost tempting to suggest we stick around. Make camp.”

“...entertain ourselves while the world burns.”

III: SAINTLINESS | NEAR HASMAL OR ON THE ROAD

It can’t all be tireless exertion.

Well, all right, maybe it can be for some, but between patrolling flights and the rigorous demands of fieldwork, Astarion is ever quick to take up whatever bedroll he can find, or borrow, or— just steal, actually. No matter from whom.

Tonight's campsite in particular is flush with migrating refugees snatched mercifully from the height of their torment, only now granted some small amount of relative peace beside Riftwatch’s own, however fleeting. Come morning and the weighty chains of more promised travel fixed heavy in their futures, they’ll no doubt find a wealth of strain awaiting their already fractured hearts.

And set amidst those desperate refugees, Astarion folds his arms comfortably behind his head, yawning wide with his ankles crossed, stretched out like a cat in sunshine. Though it’s night, of course, and they’re enshrouded not in sunlight, but in audible misery.

So there it is. The strange, all too obvious juxtaposition. Rather than pass out food or blankets, rather than keeping watch or offering the clothing on his back like a pious saint, he’s trying to sleep.

“Gods, they just never shut up, do they?” voice brittle with irritation, said to no one in particular, an absent commentary clearly made for his own passive aggressive satisfaction. You know, over the sound of sobbing and stricken despair.

“I’d have more luck trying to sleep in a barn.”

IV: WILDCARD

[OOC NOTES: mix and match prompts as you like, set them reasonably elsewhere or make one of your own, etc. Week one will be spent on the way to, and in the areas generally around Hasmal; his duties while there will be aerial survellance over Hasmal itself and the territory to the north and west. Landing is absolutely something he'll request in either the middle or near end of those flight passes, so something within or outside the city not specified here is 100% A-OK!

All other plans are only tentative, subject to change if necessary or wanted or whatever, so tap me if you'd like to work towards something later, or would like a more cohesive plot map. And as a side note I'll match prose or brackets or whatever you want to tag with as usual.

Astarion will not help refugees unless told to. He's preoccupied primarily with killing and with crippling Tevinter forces regardless of the cost to anyone else but himself (and also your characters, but pls know that's only if they've got good standing/approval with him), and his general mood is v positive throughout the week.]

Gabranth

[archademode]

[starters also rolling out chronologically here over the course of the plot, hit me up on plurk or discord if you'd like to plot out more in-depth in advance.]

WEEK 1 + 2 | OTA

[archademode]

I: OPEN-PALMED

When disaster strikes, he is perhaps nearer to Nevarra than to Kirkwall. But the journey demands completion, and so Gabranth returns from his mission in fair company, unworn and unweathered by the rushed stretch of their homeward sprint.

He is accustomed to it, now. Cutting a path across greater landscapes without the ease of airship travel. That does not make it enjoyable, but nothing about the current chaos is.

There is no one to report his success to. Not without distracting from the matter at hand, and so instead Gabranth turns immediately to doing what he can throughout the Gallows and Kirkwall proper: readying supplies, putting his ear to the figurative ground for news and promise of need, even fitting stragglers within shelter that would see them fed for yet another day. This, he does incessantly, without direction and without complaint.

II: PATIENCE

His hands are not soft, his armor cold and horrific in its molded visage— yet he behaves like a guard dog in the presence of refugees, patrolling so near to them with his helmet's eyeless stare set hard across the horizon. Only taking a seat in brittle grass when he needs rest, rather than sleeping.

The problem?

One of the little girls from camp— a tiny thing, her hair matted with tangles and snarls, her arms dirtied with the necessities of survival in midst of warfare's cruelty, no more than the age of five— has crawled into his armored lap and is currently dozing contently. And rather than return to his patrols, he simply sits there, shifting his helmet to glance towards where he ought to be, rather than where he is.

The child’s mother or father, if she has anyone left to her at all, are nowhere in sight.

“A moment.” He calls out to the nearest passerby, his voice low and unusually gentle despite his helm’s metallic cast.

III: FIRE FOR FIRE

He drives his blades through skin, through bone. Intercepting a smaller force on his own was a poor decision, true, but Gabranth is sure of his own mettle—

And magic.

With a pull of his arm, fire coalesces in the air, challenging the mages that thought to wound him with their own— the flames coalescing above Gabranth’s head to form a fan of burning swords, held at bay for only a moment—

And then he releases the tension in his arm, sending those swords careening into nearby foot soldiers. Thinning their number standing number by a fair margin. Perhaps fair enough to even survive this skirmish intact.

Then again, perhaps not.

IV: WILDCARD

[OOC NOTES: mix and match prompts as you like, set them reasonably elsewhere or make one of your own, etc. Week 1 segueing into week 2 will be split between Kirkwall and Hasmal, but Gabranth is keen to roam wherever he feels he can do the most work with his Jason Stathamesque skills, so something set outside of these is totally fine!

All plans are only tentative, subject to change if necessary or wanted or whatever, so tap me if you'd like to work towards something later, or would like a more cohesive plot map. And as a side note I'll match prose or brackets or whatever you want to tag with as usual.

Gabranth isn't particularly cold for once, he's putting a genuine foot forward and is concerned about Riftwatch's own loss of leadership, but he's not the picture of an openly bleeding heart when it comes to those displaced by war despite...you know, being a refugee displaced by war in his own past. Those feelings he's keeping a little closer to his chest, if he can help it.]

ket

[sohighandwild]

[Starters by time period below, hit me OOCly if you'd like something custom.]

Week One - On the road from Hasmal (OTA)

[sohighandwild]

The part of "helpful Riftwatch agent" is, arguably, simply a magnification of one she's been playing for some time now, but it's noticeably pitched differently here. She's quick on her feet, which means a lot of fetching and carrying among the refugees: water for this family, facilitating a barter of extra boots for some food for that older man, taking down a list of needs that she assures the tired woman she will pass along to her superiors. She's sympathetic, but more important, she's as helpful as her resources allow her to be.

And if that leads people to let their guard down and occasionally talk to her or, more often, talk to one another while she's in earshot, well. That's helpful too.

All of that does take energy, though. Once everyone's settled for the night and she's back among her colleagues, she does let a bit of that fatigue show. "If I'm ever a refugee," she says, "I will be sure to take much better notes on the situation I'm fleeing from."

valerius hildebrand.

[beidhander]

weeks four & five. protecting the countryside.

[beidhander]

Over the course of these weeks, Valerius Hildebrand finds himself stationed at three settlements.

The first is largely uneventful, characterised by long summer evenings on watch at the village of Keene. On the third night, with a view that looks out over rolling farmlands touched silver in the moonlight, and when perhaps you come to relieve him of his watch for the evening, you find him asleep. That might be hard to tell at first—he is sitting upright on the edge of a cart by the main road leading into the hamlet, his hands wrapped around the hilt of his sword when is balanced against the dirt ground beneath his hanging feet.

But his head is bowed enough for his chin to touch his chest, and long snoring breaths are audible as you get nearer. He won't stir unless directly interfered with, but from anyone who might casually glance over, it looks like he is mostly doing a good job.

A few days later, enemy movement away from this area likewise calls upon Riftwatch agents to redeploy elsewhere.

The second village, Ruckland, is characterised by the devastation that falls upon it. It is a searing sundown, and Valerius is moving on foot patrol around the perimeters the town. He is alone, in this instance, sword strapped to his back, wearing a collection of armor pieces that do not entirely match—some chain and leathers of generic quality, for instance, along with a worn and scratched up Templar breastplate and pauldrons—and seeming to mind how warm it is to be wearing this level of defense, despite the trickles of sweat coursing from his temples, down his neck.

And then there's a sound. It's almost more like a feeling than noise, a kind of pressured pulse of sensation that has Valerius press a palm to one of his ears as if to relieve it, before instinct raises the hairs along the back of his neck, and he turns.

Because that sound is that of huge wings, attached to a huge beast that is coming in fast.

He blindly grabs at his sending crystal, which skitters away from his fingers, somehow gets caught in the lip of his breastplate, and an impatient tug snaps the cord it's on and sends it bouncing amongst the dirt path at his feet. "Fuck," is grunted as he dives down after it, grabbing it along with half a fistful of crumbly earth, and reports to those Riftwatch agents also in town: "Dragon, to the west."

But the third placement, towards the end of this whole ordeal, in a river-side town called Bracklin, offers more opportunity for answer.

It is night when a small contingent of Venatori strike. They come in on armored horses, robes, flanked by soldiers, with the intent to ride through, destroy as much as they are able as quickly as they can, and leave. Word had not travelled to them that Riftwatch or Inquisition or really anyone might be lurking amongst these quiet wooden buildings, but they will learn it both too quickly and too late.

Of course, typically, danger doesn't strike while Valerius is on active duty, but it doesn't stop him from participating. He is quickly out on the streets, sword in hands, and one thrown cleaving strike sees seven feet of steel come cracking across the legs of a charging horse. It screams horribly, as does the Venatori astride it, and both go tumbling, crunchily, across the stone road. There is a flash of white light as Valerius sends a flood of negating energy towards the mage, who had begun to raise a hand to summon a circle of flame, which extinguishes immediately.

This all would be much cooler if Valerius wasn't dressed in a nightgown, but we take what we can get.

jone of denerim.

[poleaxed]

[Starters TBA; pls HMU if you want something bespoke; wildcards always welcome.]

WEEK 1&2.

[poleaxed]

(a.) There are things gone is good at, things she's bad at. War, she can account for. Waiting for it to touch her doorstep... it takes more patience than she properly has. She'd rather distract herself.

This is what she's doing as she finds an abandoned, dilapidated farmhouse in Wintervale. She enters it quietly, until she sees another person nearby. She beckons them.

"Searching for buried treasure, I am. You want in?"

(b.) Further south, but only just, Jone can be found leading a mule laden with supplies... and one large poleaxe. Some things never change.

The road forks into a snake's tongue, one choice leading over long and winding hills, the other a straight path through a dark forest. Jone turns to whoever is in earshot. "Heard tell the forest route leads straight to mother Kirkwall. Safe as anything."

The forest route looks, frankly, haunted.

"In for a penny, aye?"

fenris.

[broodypants]

[Starters TBA; pls HMU if you want something bespoke; wildcards always welcome.]

WEEK 1&2.

[broodypants]

(a.) Fenris is an odd figure, wearing black armor of clear Tevinter make. He stalks through crowds of refugees, and is given wide berth. They recognize him for his dress: some escaped pet of a magister. How he communicates that with others... well, he doesn't.

One would be forgiven for assuming he's some Tevinter agent, hiding particularly poorly. Or perhaps other words would be spared for such an odd creature.

(b.) He proves himself easily proficient at making camp, at least. Living rough, it seems, comes naturally to Fenris, either by practice or provenance. Regardless, as night settles, he can be found near a warm campfire, the scent of sweet, fresh fish lingering in the air.

Fenris has taken off one of his metal gauntlets-- a rare occasion-- to hold a frying pan of river salmon over the fire. His hands, no longer covered in metal spikes, reveal skin striped in blue-white markings.

If you wander too close, Fenris will stiffen, then think better of it. Slowly, he speaks. "I doubt we will have access to butter and fresh herbs for long."

As invitations go, it is a poor one.

amos burton.

[innerharbor]

[Starters TBA; pls HMU if you want something bespoke; wildcards always welcome.]

WEEK 1&2.

[innerharbor]

(a.) Amos stays the fuck away from refugees. It's just smart, when you're someone like him. It's just business.

He's good for shitall in meetings, except standing outside them and looking vaguely threatening. Walking toward closed doors, he lets out a quick, sharp whistle. Stop.

"They're talking." Amos shakes his head slowly.

(b.) He's better with hammer and nails, anyway. Setting things up in lookout towers, hammer and nail at the ready, that he can do. That, he's done already. Now, he sits at the base of the tower, winnowing tree trunks into sharp points. Several have already been affixed to the base of the tower, pointing outward, defensive.

Amos is a large man, and shirtless in the summer sun, that is only more evident.

If you wander near enough, he'll recruit you without thinking. Without asking. "Get me the whetstone." He cocks his head to the side, in the direction of his toolkit. "This knife's gone to shit."

Julius

[overharrowed]

[Placeholder with open starters to follow; hit me if you want to work out something custom.

Weeks Two/Three - Starkhaven (OTA)

[overharrowed]

Julius is pleased to have Petrana and Marcus with him in Starkhaven. If nothing else, it's useful to pool their resources and compare their various meetings. That said, they've enough to do that their various appointments pull them in different directions, and Julius finds himself in a variety of corners of a city he's never visited before.

He mostly stays stuck to the work, in part because of his temperament and in part to keep himself from the paralysis that could so easily spring from the news of a new front and the disappearance of at least two Riftwatch leaders. It's possible to run into him in various parts of the city throughout the two-week span; he's inclined to greet any fellow Riftwatch agents, and he'll even chat if you happen to be going the same way.

Alternatively, he tends to take his evening meal in the inn's common room, sometimes with company but also sometimes alone. He's happy enough to wave an agent over, if he sees one who happens to be at a loose end. Whether for the company or for the potential information, he'll encourage you to sit down.

herian amsel

[dashing]

going to do a few closed starters once I have hammered down some more plans, and then hopefully some open ones for Starkhaven stuff, hmi if you'd like to make plans :>
(also going to chuck starters for a couple of backdated things here just because)

margaery / pre-event, kirkwall.

[dashing]

( She had attempted to comply with the instructions of healers, earlier in the recovery process. At least, it could be framed that she had attempted to comply, rather than having little choice in the matter given the state of her health. With improving mobility and lessened fragility there was, alas, a little more stubbornness. The total reliance on crutches had barely been cast aside when she was trying to do more practice work with her sword, and when her grip and the strength in her wrist had faltered, she set to working on it with a single-minded (hardheaded, obdurate, unreasonable) focus.

Despite the instructions to focus on her walking and not push herself too hard, Herian has been at the location where she is to meet the assigned healer some time. For all that it's early in the morning and the air is cool, perspiration rolls down her brow from the strain of the effort as she moves through the forms. Though the form is recognisably good, her movements between them are becoming slower and shakier, and Herian makes a sound of frustration as she lets her arms drop.

She isn't paying mind to her surrounds or the hour for her actual approved therapy drawing near, just keeping her eyes closed for a few moments to try and clear her head. )

darras rivain

[staysail]

week 1 | hasmal aerial surveillance - closed

[staysail]

[The loud sounds of Hugo eating is unpleasant. Better that than the silence that had fallen after the brief scuffle with the Tevinter scouting party. The scouts are dead, save one, breathing raggedly--but even that sound seems distant and anyways the loud munching of the griffon mostly drowns him out. Darras wipes his falchion on the tabard of one of the men who is laying facedown in the dirt, his mouth tight.

They'd seen the troop from above, one party of many that they've seen coming up from the northwest--soldiers, scouts, knots of the enemy party scuttling like ants along the ground. This time they'd descended, landed among the Vints with two griffons like death from above. Scattering them had been easy. Picking them off was even easier.

Darras scans their surroundings. He is thinking of Yseult. Everything else is a function of finding her. He doesn't have a plan of how he will do that, only that he has to do it.]

Ought to head back. [He flips his falchion over, wipes the other side on the dead man's tabard.] Report on what we've seen so far.

[Hugo lifts his head, his fine plumage spattered with mud. A string of something is hanging out of the corner of his beak. Cute, sort of.]

wysteria

[heirring]

[planning bespoke closed starts only; feel free to wildcard me or hmu @ prosodi]

val, week 4/5; slowing the advance

[heirring]

Strictly speaking, she isn't meant to be here. Certainly Wysteria had not left with the party assigned to block various roadways and evacuate the various little villages which lie along one of many routes the scattershot enemy forces might use in their approach to Starkhaven. And yet, so early in the morning that the fog off the distant Minanter is still heavy in the little camp staked in the lowlands off the road, here she is bursting into his tent.

"De Foncé, you must rise at—" Val's tent mate, whoever they might be, squawks out of sleep in protest at being trampled. Which is ridiculous. She barely stepped on them. "I'm very sorry. We will be out of your way shortly. Valentine, collect your things. Your horse is already being fetched. We ride west within the hour. No, the half hour. I trust your fellows re perfectly capable of handling the rock slide or whatever absurd thing you have engineered up on that hill. I will meet you out of doors, and if you don't emerge within ten minutes then I will come back in here and begin packing your things myself. See that he is up, won't you?"

And then with identical enthusiasm, Wysteria whirls, narrowly avoids trampling Val's bunkmate a second time, and explodes back out into the grey pre-dawn air.

Erik Stevens

[clawings]

[ if you would like a bespoke starter hit me up on plurk! otherwise, starters below. ]

ota;

[clawings]

→ week one part a: on the road

[ He's come out on horseback to talk to people fleeing Hamsal in the hopes of sorting out some rumors from truths, or find himself a Venatori sympathizer or two.

He's talking to a woman and her small child when suddenly the child is shoved aside by the woman and she has pulled a knife on him; difficult to say from any distance whether or not he's stepped on her toes, somehow, or has brought to light something she'd rather he not live to repeat.

If you would prefer a less stressful encounter, Erik can be found making camp along the roads to Hamsal and writing nearly everything he's told down in the half-light by the fire. ]

→ week one part b: back in the city

[ He's here only for two days, but: in that time he's standing in the back of a meeting between the Viscount, some Hightown people, and several higher-ups in the City Guard who recognize him from the recent-ish dealings regarding the Crimson Cat.

He makes sure to only ask very pointed questions that require detailed answers; mostly they are about the city's ability to withstand attack and what sort of provisions will be made for the influx of those fleeing violence. ]

→ week three: training militias

[ Erik may still consider himself new at the idea of sword-based warfare but he's not new at the idea of warfare as a whole; thus he's assigned as both a member of the Diplomacy division and as someone who is combat-ready to help the citizens of a small village called Crystalstrand, near Wildervale, prepare for the worst.

The fact that he's fought a dragon also helps, though he doesn't bring that up specifically. ]

Sometime week 2 or 3, closed to Bastien

[muckspout]

[It’s late in the night, starless and pitch black when a griffon lands in front of Bastien. He may not be able to make out the grime covered face in the darkness, but the gruff voice is clearly Edgard.]

Found a group of refugees on the other side of the forest. Families. They’re cut off from everything because of the fires. Running out of supplies. Going to bring them some.

[His voice hardens.]

Not what I was told to do and no idea where I’m going to get the supplies, but—-[He waves his hand. It’s not important.] Will you help me?

[cozen]

[ Bastien's a hard man to startle, but having a bird-lion the size of a small whale swoop down before him in the pitch dark—that'll do it. Before the wings have settled he has a knife in his hand.

Which is foolish. What could it be but a griffon, and who has griffons but them? The knife is put away just as quickly as it appeared, and Bastien comes a little closer, minding the beak and talons. ]

Bien sûr. [ Easily. The condition is an afterthought: ] If you promise to shout hello before you land next time.

kostos averesch.

[exequy]

[ Starters below, let me know if you want something or feel free to just drop wildcards on my lap. ]

week one, assisting townsfolk | closed to derrica

[exequy]

For the rest of Kostos' life, if he has to think or speak of this place, it will be Fucking Henwood. But on maps, when it appears at all, it's only Henwood, a tiny village that's adjacent to a forest and brimming with chickens.Creative, Kostos muttered on arrival, like he wouldn't have named it in a similar vein if given the opportunity, except more like Asswood. Henshits. Bastardville.

But since someone beat him to it, Fucking Henwood will do.

"We could tell them to go north," he mutters to Derrica on the one and Maker-willing only evening they'll be there, while he carries one side of a crate full of chickens toward a wagon.

North: where the invasion is. Them: the villagers, who are accepting their assistance, despite the staves they carry and the little magic they've displayed, but could not one of them find room on a floor or in a stable for them to sleep indoors tonight.

"No one would know."

alistair.

[byblow]

[ Starters below! Let me know if you want something custom, or feel free to drop wildcards on my lap. ]

various | ota

[byblow]

i. MID-PLOT, GALLOWS.

He knew the Gallows would be half-empty—more than half-empty, actually, half-empty is optimistic even when everyone is here, so now it's more like seven-eighths empty—before he showed up. Still sort of depressing, though. Sort of creepy. Very echoey.

He's only here for the evening, though. Dropping off his things before he heads north to help, so he isn't carting everything he owns along for the ride. Getting orders, those are important. Seeing who is around. And sitting, at this specific moment, across the table from one of the very few other people in the dining hall at dinner, whether he knows them or not.

"Everyone heard I was coming back, is it? Made themselves scarce?" He isn't smiling, but it must be a joke; he has circles under his eyes, his shirt is rumpled, and overall he does not look at all like someone who's pleasantly oblivious to the invasion. "Can't blame them."

ii. WEEK FOUR, STARKHAVEN.

Walls are great. Preparing them, manning them. Fantastic plan. Alistair's already helped discuss the likely weak points, what he knows about the range of the Venatori's spells, all of that, with a captain who kept nodding and saying, "Yes, yes, yes," while her fists stayed clenched in terror at her sides.

Now he's standing inside the main gates, looking up while people scurry along the walls above, and leaning sideways to lower his voice (a little; he's bad at whispering) and address the Riftwatcher beside him.

"What's an unscary way to tell them they need to make sure nothing can come up from underground?"

bastien.

[cozen]

[ Starters below! Let me know if you want something custom, or feel free to drop wildcards on my lap. ]

after week three, in the gallows | ota

[cozen]

i. EARLIER, PROJECT OFFICES.

He's fine while he's moving, so that's what he's been doing: riding to Tantervale, running top-speed away from Tantervale once a dragon got involved, traipsing off into the Free Marches to try to convince someone to care. Back in the Gallows, he has a bath, and then he continues moving.

His side of the Jeshavis office progresses immediately from its usual disorganization to an outright mess. There are books stacked on his chair, because he doesn't sit in it. He's taken the maps of Orlais and Ferelden off the wall and spread them on the floor, and he's in the process of putting reports and scraps of notes on top of the places they concern, held in place by stones. He's in and out, going upstairs and down, letters coming or going in his hands, and half the time talking or listening through his crystal to someone who's gone south to look in person. But there are moments where he is only standing there, frowning at his paper-covered maps. Or there are other moments when he sticks his head out of the door to catch someone walking past and say, "Holding up?" or, "Have you ever heard of a place called Bellmoral?"

Or he can be caught in the Felandaris office—which, in his defense, currently doesn't have a leader he could ask for help, and Stark must be awfully busy—holding a report between his pursed lips while he uses both hands to rifle through a box of artifacts that do not belong to him.

ii. LATER, IN A COURTYARD.

Bastien could be bleeding out on the floor and still carry on a convincing cheerful conversation. Doing it now is no trouble at all. In the office, in the dining hall, or passing people in the corridors, he carries himself like a man who's on his sixth or seventh international war, probably, and third tainted dragon at least.

But he's caught up on the backlog. There are fewer new emergencies to set everyone scurrying around. Just a long, steady march toward inevitable in Starkhaven. Passing through the courtyard, he stops moving for a moment—the weather is clear, the day not too hot—and he gets stuck that way. He sits at the base of one of the little trees they've managed to grow. The first time his crystal makes noise, he turns it off entirely. And he looks here and there at nothing in particular, while the moment turns into minutes, then into an hour, and keeps going.