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

[heirring]

It is only fair, having sucked so much air out the tent upon her arrival, to allow him a few full sentences out of the dewy morning before interrupting him. But interrupt Wysteria does, for she has more or less delighted in preparing for this conversation all through the late evening (or very, very early morning, depending on how one measures such things) as she and the dispatch rider who had accompanied her this far had cantered along in the dark. Presumably that dispatch rider had been treated to one or two of the finer points, Wysteria being unable to keep her eagerness over the prospect of lecturing Val entirely to herself.

"I have every right. The list is in fact so complete that I won't bother to list even a single part of it. And you can sleep later. Look at me! I have had only the barest necessary hours this entire week and am perfectly fit," she declares, setting off for the picket line of horses the very moment he reaches her.

"We are to ride west to the bridge at Luton. It is only one or two hours from here, and if we hurry then we will arrive in plenty of time to see it brought down before Tevinter's forward scouts can cross it. They were meant to have it well in hand, but there has been a mechanical issue with the winch supplied to pull down the supports and I have volunteered you to guide the repairs. And if for some reason the repairs are more involved than reported or the road slightly longer than I have been told it is, then I have brought along something which I believe will discourage the Tevinter troops for long enough to see it done anyway."

Something.

There is indeed something being lashed to the side of a fresh horse otherwise tacked in Wysteria's funny little side saddle even as they speak. It is a very long parcel, spanning nearly the entire length of the horse's side, religiously wrapped in a dark oil cloth and tied very high so as not to interfere with the animal's movement.

"The last pieces for the spindle arrived from Orzammar two days ago," she announces in a very poor approximation of a stage whisper. It's possible there are people across the camp who don't hear her. "I thought we might conduct a series of field tests."

[degenere]

"I do not want to sleep later." But it is very difficult to argue with a retreating back, and so Val abandons it and--turning up his collar so that it can be turned down again to fall more naturally, pulling at the strap of his satchel so that it is no longer choking him, and other small adjustments besides--follows after Wysteria, all too prepared to continue arguing.

But he does not get the chance.

"No one understand winches--" --First. This, at least, they can solidly agree upon. "The world is full of the hopeless who do not seem to comprehend--"

Something. His eyes fall upon it as she begins speaking of it. In the depths of these eyes, a fire comes alight, and his entire countenance changes. No further word of sleep will be spoken here. Something, something, and quicker, now, Val moves so that he can approach the horse and the particular parcel, a man drawn by the siren song of this entirely new invention, the apex of work.

"We might forgo the bridge entire. What of it when there is such testing to be conducted? We must see her dans son élement. We must behold her."

[heirring]

"Forgo the bridge," she repeats back at him from somewhere at the very edge of his reverie. "We cannot forgo the bridge, de Foncé! —Yes thank you, that will be all," is for the spare hands who have hurried to have both horses tacked who are all too eager to be shooed away and return to sleep or at least escape being privy to this nonsense. "It would be a dereliction of duty! A circumvention of orders!"

As they move in between the horses, her insistent cries lower to the pitch of a hiss in deference to the concept of secrecy so that here—where they are nominally shielded by the animals upon which they will soon go galloping off on—she can say more covertly,

"The bridge must still come down. Mister Stark was very clear on that subject. But perhaps if the company of soldiers is very small we might forgo the collapse until after we have seen to our field test."

More importantly however, because yes there is something even more important than all of that:

"Would you like to see it now, or when we arrive in Luton? It will be daylight by the time we arrive."

[degenere]

"Of course I will see it now."

The firey gleam in Val's eye has not dimmed or diminished. He was of course listening to Wysteria's reply, the way one might idly study a rival's essay in a publication so that one might better denounce, decry, or defy it. Perhaps he might have approached from the angle of the provost, who cares for the provost?, or, is our work not of equal importance and might it not in fact be the very thing that will lead to our success?, but then of course he was distracted by the memory of being inexplicably threatened at his own wedding for daring to speak of his work as important--that was the nature of the threat, was it not?--and by then he was not hardly paying attention until suddenly realizing that, ah, Wysteria is again speaking of the something, and all his interest and focus clicks right back into place again.

"To behold it in daylight will be a privilege, too, but I cannot know that it is here right now and not see it immediately. It would be torment to ride beside it without so much as a glimpse. I detest surprises and have little patience for self-denial and flagellation. What is the point of such a thing? No, I must see it now. And then during the field test, naturally, which--also quite naturally--will occur on the way to this very important bridge that apparently cannot wait for its destruction. Is Mister Stark aware that we are in the Free Marches? Their bridges collapse regularly. It is a flaw in their architectural schools and in their construction materials. The stone component of the binding agents cannot be relied upon--and many of them were built in the Towers Age besides, with foundations hardly dug deeply enough to support the weight. Are you showing It to me or are you not?"

--All delivered in nearly the same tone, as usual, which makes the expectation contained in that last question all the more difficult to meet.

[heirring]

She is nodding along—yes, yes; self-denial and self-flagellation; yes of course, that makes sense that the bridge would be prone to collapse already as she and Miss Smythe recently took a series of earthen samples for one thing or another and she did notice a certain preponderance of sand—in the same way a person who is not listening might, but only because she is very certain of what he is saying to the point that the details (voluminous as they are) may simply pass over her.

Somewhere between 'Their bridges collapse regularly and 'Support the weight', she has stepped around him and begun to loosen the fastenings on the parcel, so that she is more or less on track to satisfy his demands as he reaches the point of them.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't intend to, Monsieur." Old habits indeed. "I am not so cruel."

And besides, it is the answer she had wanted to hear from him.

The innermost strap buckles are undone, leaving only the picks at either end balancing it to the animal's side so it might be quickly wrapped up again. The ties about the oil cloth too are loosened—

"A case or a holster of some kind will need to be designed to make carrying it about more easily done. That much is already quite obvious to you, I'm certain."

—and at last she raises the cloth's edge so he might peek past the fringe of the swaddled bundle to view their progeny.

It is, by any account, a rather attractive thing. Even in the shadows of the livestock picket line, the pale Orlesian oak and cast metal, oiled and sealed and oiled again with the religious fervor of a craftsman who has been somewhat reliant on other people and too restless to not accomplish something regardless, gleams in the pale slash of moonlight. It is not graceful. The weapon is too long, too heavy, too much to be considered at all effortless. But it and the balancing fork which accompanies the great gun is satisfying in the way a well made machine ought to be.

[degenere]

It is, by any account, a rather attractive thing.

True, it lacks grace. But that is the way of such a thing. Val--accomplished student of siege engines, architectural achievements meant to be swiftly constructed, to scrape and brutalize and then, their grim work completed, be swiftly disassembled--is familiar with lines and forms more utilitarian and barbarous. This, the Something, the It, the fruit of labors and fund-raising and liquidated assets and so many schematics, this is far better. Even a glimpse at it is enough to take Val's breath.

For a moment, at least.

"Mademoiselle." Val takes hold of the cloth's edge as well and pulls at it, drawing it away so he can see more of the It, laying complete and whole and in perfect repose in her arms. "Mademoiselle. It is everything. You have not tested it? At all? Truly?"

[heirring]

It is a very rare thing, she knows, to shock Valentine de Foncé into even a moment of silence. And to do it in such a way that is not a precursor to a vicious argument is, she thinks, even rarer still. In that grey pre-dawn, she can't help but to revel in a flushed sort of pride over both it and the thing in her arms and the way he says Mademoiselle that second time as if she is in part responsible for something truly extraordinary.

(Which, Wysteria supposes, is true.)

"Not as it is wholly assembled. Of course I have tested the various components to be certain that they perform their duties individually. But all together? No. That remains to be seen. But I believe the issue with the magnetic pull on the rails which we discussed has been resolved. Your suggestion for a double casting seems to have greatly reduced the stress of the frame when electrified. And so I can think of not other catastrophes which might occur, which means the only way to discover them now will be to see the thing in action."

[degenere]

Val breaks his rapturous study of the It to turn a look of delight upon Wysteria, a glowing summation of all that he is feeling in this moment. There may have been small glimmers of this look in past conversations and interactions, whenever their bickering and debating and reviewing foundered a small but not insignificant breakthrough. In these moments, then, briefly--in that breathless instance of realization of progress--Val might have looked up at Wysteria with some similar warmth. But these glances had been as a candle, nothing at all in comparison to this look, which in its full force is a little like if the dazzling face of the sun had eyes with which to fix attention upon an ant--or, more accurately, a woman holding a beloved gun.

"It is beyond exciting, every time." Surely she knows--yet it must be said! "To be faced with this moment, where the work is proved. Proved, and not complete, necessarily--all trials come inevitably with adjustments that must be made--well and good! For through this arrives--well, not perfection, no work is truly ever perfect. Yet a few might come near perfection. And upon this threshold, this is where we stand, and the sense of it," he draws in a deep breath and as he does so, he ceases tugging at the blanket and instead lays a hand over Wysteria's in some fashion to grip at her, for they are together in this moment, "the sense of it! There is nothing like it. Every anticipation pales in comparison. If I were not so eager to see the thing tested, I would demand that we stand here for an age. Until something better came up. Which, here, is the testing of the It and so we must be away!"

He shoves off and goes for the nearest horse. And casts one last enraptured look over his shoulder for good measure. That can hardly be helped.

[heirring]

It should probably catch her by surprise—that look, so filled with enthusiasm that it's like a cup left to overflow. It practically radiates, daylight bright in the muggy gray of pre-dawn. Instead, it is a little like opening book and finding something that is both wonderful and expected and more pleasant still for the fact that she thought it might be there. Once, Tony had asked—

"And what is he contributing to this project, exactly?"

And there had been a half dozen answers to give him—funding and a certain expertise with siege engines and the mechanical systems in common usage throughout Thedas and an interest in incendiaries— , but the thing which she had not said but she had quietly suspected to be a strong point in favor of the man's presence was this: that he had been intrigued from the offset. That she hadn't needed to cajole or convince him of the possibility. That he had been in demanding support of her work—not the work—long before anyone else had.

Of course de Foncé looks at her like that and holds her hand so. Of course it isn't a surprise.

After, she is very prompt about rewrapping parcel and lashing it firmly back onto her mount's side. And in very short order, the two of them on horses are cutting out from the stand of trees in which the camp is wrapped and making for the dirt road which nominally leads toward their bridge and its problematic winch at a brisk trot.

"While we are both here, de Foncé, I thought we might discuss that essay I gave you on the poisonous gasses derived from the venom of certain eastern spiders—" is a conversation which will almost surely see them through either however long the horses can stand to hack along or until the sun cracks over the hilltops and spills far enough to illuminate some meadow or clearing or creekbank or low stone wall about an empty field fit for testing the sum of two years of work.

[degenere]

The regular thudding of horse hooves provides a steady and reliable countermelody, as the quick and spirited melody of their conversation has skipped along, and--

"But the treatment of disease, we both can surely agree--while not being infinitely preferable to the offensive abilities--is of importance. Yet even as we agree, we must note: there are so many sources for such cures and solutions! Mages, for one--"

--And Gasses and venoms have transported them onward to new conversations, and new topics for debate, and generally the way has been pleasant. Surprisingly so, Val would say, if someone were to ask him. But no one is asking, and no one is likely to ask, and so he has been allowed to ride with the mademoiselle--madame?--and debate, and argue, very amiably, though anyone observing would consider its timbre more aggressive than amiable--and Val has carried on this conversation without a scrap of guilt. Just because the Free Marches are ash does not mean that he should be deprived of a good conversation. They are, after all, so difficult to find. And he would admit that freely to anyone should they ask, but no one is here to ask.

"--Science, if not mages, this silly word that implies so much--why then should additional resources be directed to such projects when they might be better used elsewhere? For surely the benefit of these other uses is--"

He pulls up his horse and points.

"But this is a good place for the test!"

This is, it must be noted, the fourth time that he has said this. The three times previous he has been met with disagreement--the sun was not yet high enough and would level its light directly into their eyes, the birds in the region were too loud, the distance from the road was too small and would not provide cover enough for the test to be conducted. This venue is a splendid vista: a great glossy plane of high grasses and wildflowers, and a copse of trees creating a kind of theater around it. The birdsong is distant; the dragonflies are not awake; the sun is screened by the trees and glows through their leaves and branches like the most marvelous and subtle of stage lights. She cannot find a complaint with it. She will not find a complaint with it.

[heirring]

From the back of the borrowed horse, Wysteria surveys the immediate landscape with a critical eye. It would be irresponsible, she has explained three times already, not to mention lacking in a certain bit of reverence—a notion which while rooted in a bit of needless romanticism should still ought to be respected and 'If you do not believe that merely on principle, Monsieur de Foncé, then I will merely insist that it is Kalvadan tradition so you may as well come to terms with the thing'—to be anything less that perfectly rigorous when choosing a testing ground.

It is only after a very long beat of consideration for this present suggestion that Wysteria at last declares, "I disapprove of the height of the grass. But, given that we are on somewhat of a rigid schedule and there is unlikely anything better between here and our bridge, I suppose it will have to do," and reins the horse hard over and off the road.

In remarkably short order, the horses are tied amongst the copse of trees and Wysteria has fetched the oilcloth parcel down and demanded that Val hoist down the much heavier saddlebags laden with a collection of burly iron shot. A section of the offensively high grass is trampled to accommodate the work and in the distance a few miscellaneous scraps of wood debris have been set up on a ripple of higher ground to play the role of targets.

The Thing in full daylight lies on its dark oilcloth, all possibilities. And over it, Wysteria says—

"Have you a coin on you, Valentine?"

[degenere]

Val, crouched down beside the oilcloth--but, more importantly, crouched beside the Thing--shifts and absently picks four Royals out of a pouch at his belt. He isn't looking at her when he holds them up to her for selection. He is too busy looking at, of course, the Thing.

Before this moment, he had helped to tread down grass. He had helped to construct the crude targets. He had even helped to lug the overloaded saddlebags to their desired location, though he had, of course, complained over that. But is he to blame for that?

"Now that the Thing has been fully unveiled, and we are truly, truly upon the verge of this moment, I find that I have forgotten all about my complaints," he says, conversationally, still without looking away. "Of course its memory may return when I am trying to fall asleep and I feel the ache of having acted as a pack mule--if you had wanted iron shot hauled to a location, you should have borrowed a pack mule and not relied upon me to play the part, really--"

[heirring]

"In which case, I would invite that you write your complaints down in that little book of yours," she says, sorting through her choice of coins until she has found the one most uniformly cast and returned to him the rest.

"And while you nurse your aching form we may review them alongside whatever notes we make in this hour as the gun is exercised. I have no doubt that between them we will have amassed quite the collection. Shall you take heads or tails?"

She has poised the Royal on her thumb for flipping.

[degenere]

A very Orlesian ugh! is Val's first retort, followed by a very Orlesian rolling of his very Orlesian eyes. He pockets the Royals once more.

"I shall do so," he says, and then, "Heads, of course," and then--just as she is about to flip-- "Of course you should be the one nursing my aching form if there is nursing to be done. It is only right. For you are first the cause of the aching and, second, my wife."

Clear order of importance. He makes an impatient gesture as he gets out his commonplace book.

"Flip, ma poulette!"

[heirring]

She—

Does not flip, the motion to do so aborted first by the interruption and then a second time on account of—

"I should nurse you? 'Because it is only right?' You are quite mistaken, Monsieur. The saddlebags are not so heavy as all that. Why, I lifted them myself to begin with. So if you have pulled something then I can hardly be blamed."

She adjusts the Royal on her thumb.

"And I hardly see what the rest has to do with it."

Now she will flip the coin.

[degenere]

Then you should have done so, is what Val's gesture says for him. He has time enough to flip open his commonplace book and sketch a quick scowling face in the margin of the newest page--then she flips the coin and, despite himself, he must be interested.

With great interest does Val watch the coin flip. And with great interest, he leans in to behold the result, and--

"Heads!"

--and behold his triumph. He slaps Wysteria on the back with great and bracing familiarity, pains forgotten.

"The day is mine!"

[heirring]

Her scoff of dismay and the suggestion lying just there behind it—Best two of three?—is transformed into a squawk under that familiar thwap. She clamps her teeth after as if to make up for the indignity of it all, and then by the time the sting of her own silliness has faded, the moment to insist on some variation or do-over has passed.

"Very well." Wysteria thrusts out her hand. "Surrender your little book to me."

[degenere]

Celebration cut short, Val instinctively seizes upon his commonplace book and pulls it close to his chest.

"Why?", with great suspicion.

[heirring]

"Come now, Monsieur. You cannot tell me that you mean to take notes and fire the thing all at once. Now surrender the book and see to the gun, man!"

Just for this, she will pocket the Royal. It's what he deserves.

[degenere]

Val's eyes narrow still further. Not because of the Royal. What is one Royal? After a brief period of scrutiny, he relaxes the book away from his chest and very deliberately flips it to a clean new page.

"Do not flip backwards or forwards," he says as he hands it over to Wysteria. And the little pencil, too, for she will need that as well. "These are my private notes. As we are sharing in this particular trial I will, of course, create a duplicate for whatever is written of this--you deserve that!--but the book's other contents are only for myself."

And, warning given, he moves briskly to take up position beside the It.

[heirring]

It is an extraordinarily foolish thing to do. Is there anything at all in the whole world which he might have said to better compel her to rifle through the contents of the book? She bristles visibly upon being delivered both book and pencil, and it is only with a truly monumental display of self restraint that she doesn't instantly scrub back through the book's preceding pages.

And in such cases where curiosity has been so viciously ignited and spurned, there is only one possible response:

"I can't possibly imagine there would be anything of interest to me in your little book otherwise. And so happily, your secret thoughts may remain most confidential."

She adopts a sullen smile and without looking scrawls Field Test No.1 and the corresponding date at the head of the page in her most lovely handwriting.

"Proceed, Monsieur."

[degenere]

Val's scoff rings out across the clearing. "Nothing of interest," he says, in Orlesian, in order to keep this thought most confidential. His tone says a great deal for him despite his choice of tongue.

With great show, he makes another gesture, this one of clearing this thought from the air between them. The scratching of the pencil does not interrupt this moment. On the contrary, it enhances. How many field tests have been preceded by such a sound, by people who had no idea what it was that they were field testing. In contrast, here are Wysteria Poppell and Valetine de Foncé, who know exactly what it is they are field testing, and how wonderful it is sure to be. This thought is immensely satisfying, and clears all of the ill feelings cleanly away.

So: proceed.

Val is not the mother of the It, but he is nonetheless keenly aware of Its functions and workings. And when in the field, one does find that one must occasionally defend one's self, and one's friend, and of course one must be prepared to defend one's work, whether that be an artifact recovered or a dig site that is being infringed upon or the sum of knowledge held within one's head (and commonplace book)--so Val has come to be a very good shot with a crossbow. In a former life of the spoiled and willful heir apparent, he was often forced on social hunting excursions, which he hated, bitterly, but did enjoy the horses and the bows and such. So, now, he easily aligns the markings upon the barrel to sight one of the targets--the more difficult one by his eye, he has pride, he cannot be seen to choose easily--and lays his finger reverently upon the trigger of the It. The barrel lays long and steady; the body is polished and fits well.

"It feels wonderful," Val says. A simple compliment. He means it, so much and more.

Abruptly, he sits back.

"Your fire, mademoiselle."

[heirring]

Wysteria has only just begun to make a series of notes in the little commonplace book—an observation of the environment and a rough estimation of the trending of the wind, some notes regarding the distance to the targets and their arrangement and so on should they find themselves later in a position of replicating the test and find their memories of such incidentals less than perfectly tuned. The summary, written rapidly in her usual style (which is to say, at length) takes up only half a page or so out of the allotment designated to her. After all if she reaches the end of the page and must, by merit of thorough note taking, turn onward then he can hardly fault her. She has titled a new subsection with 'A Brief Summary of Rounds' when Valentine sits back so abruptly.

The point of the pencil raises. She looks from him to the readied It and then far afield to where the targets are waiting and finally back again in evident confusion.

"Mine?"

(Has the young lady ever said a word in isolation in her entire life? Surely this is nearly as rare an occurrence as an enchanted gun is.)

[degenere]

"You would refuse?"

Already Val has held out his hands, expectant of the return of the book and pencil so that he might take up notes in her stead. He raises his eyebrows and holds his hands out again, this time with a larger gesture in case she might have missed it the first time.

"I cannot believe your hesitation, or, for that matter, the reticence with which you have answered me. Were I not so certain of your very excellent health I might now become concerned--I assume that you are merely saving your breath for the observations that will follow this test! A worthy effort though perhaps not entirely one that is necessary. You do speak a great deal, nearly as if the words themselves will be expiring or leaving the present fashion. I remarked this in a letter to my dearest Jeannot just the other day. Now, here is my hand for my book, and the other for my pencil, and then we shall switch places, or perhaps I might merely shift to one side, and then it is your shot, Mademoiselle Canon. I have prepared it all excellently and the day grows no younger, nor do you!"

[heirring]

In the history of their partnership, Wysteria has scoffed a great many explosive scoffs. The noise so makes is not that, but rather a strangled cry of general protest—she does not speak a great deal! And it is rude to remark on her age! And she has not hesitated at all; there is a great deal of difference between hesitating and being bewildered by a sudden change in circumstances heralded by a man who, it must be said, very rarely can be swayed to change his mind about anything.

"But it is your shot. You won the coin toss—" Wysteria, clutched by a sudden suspicion instantly draws the little book very close to her chest.

"Is your concern that I have built it incorrectly and that it may do something terrible? Or—" She looks down at the little book, and then back at him. "That I will read your diary?"