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

[heorte]

A sentiment that will surely be funny in a few weeks time, when Ellis actually is nursing some wound to his ribs.

But in the present moment—

Ellis meets Astarion's gaze over the fire. Considers the red eyes, the tenor of his voice, the traces of blood across his skin and clothes. The impulse to keep all of it arm's length isn't rooted in any kind of common sense fear.

The quiet stretches out, before Ellis' decision resolves, settles across his face as he straightens upright.

"In the interest of your sound sleep, then," he acquiesces. "Help me with the buckles on this side."

It's not full plate, not for this outing. But there are still straps easier undone by a second set of hands.

[illithidnapped]

Astarion can see the hesitation there. It doesn’t offend (the way Fenris yanking his own hand away had), but instead intrigues. A blooming curiosity kept docile by current priorities.

His hands are cold, even without the leather of thin gloves overtop of them, but considering he's only come near to work his hands across the simple array of buckled straps fitted along Ellis' side, a little difference in temperatures shouldn't amount to any discomfort at the moment.

"You are a strange one, aren't you?" He asks mildly, more amusement woven throughout his tone than anything else.

[heorte]

With Astarion working the buckles loose at his right, Ellis turns to his left. It's an easy guess, why he'd asked: the bent fingers of his left hand would have made it slow-going, awkward. The kind of thing Ellis doesn't mind so much on his own, but is less interested in showcasing in front of a near-stranger.

"Aye?" comes almost absently, Ellis' attention on the armor. "How so?"

Strange isn't the descriptor most people would use. (There are far less flattering terms he's sure are more common, in certain circles.) A brief glance at Astarion as the last buckle on his left comes free, gauging his progress before moving to one side or another.

[illithidnapped]

“I’ve met others who were skittish, over the years. Wary little things, either paranoid or simply sheltered, terrified to let me come in too close.”

Those instincts were correct of course, little good it did them in their very finite ends.

“But you’re not like them. At times I’m almost certain we’ve made strides towards fearless camaraderie— and then in the next you’ve gone stiff,” he fits one palm against Ellis’ side, without the armor. Not a lurid touch, but a deliberately testing one.

Fingers weighted, attention fixed along the otherwise distracted contours of Ellis' face, tentative almost. A near-passive demand to know what response it might inspire, as he could easily be brushed away.

“As if you’re afraid to let me near.”

[heorte]

The immediate response, what sparks on instinct alone, is tension. Reaction draws through Ellis' body like a pulled bowstring: a straightening of the spine, a tightening of the jaw, a deep inhale of breath. Bracing. His hands still at the opened edges of his breastplate. All his focus comes around to Astarion, attention sharpening away from the patter of their banter and the buckles dangling loose at his sides.

The beginnings of a frown pinch at his brow. This feels more like provocation than solicitation, and some stubborn disinclination towards retreat holds him in place.

"Your hands are cold," is a needling observation, even if Ellis' voice is steady, neither rising in temper or dipping in welcome. Not acknowledgement or rebuttal, not even a question as to why his hands are cold enough to note in the heat of summer.

He doesn't step back. But it's impossible to miss the quick assessment of their respective positions, how much space he has to extricate himself at any given moment. It's sufficient, enough so that he doesn't feel a risk in remaining, for the moment.

[illithidnapped]

“Poor circulation.” Astarion offers demurely, thumb digging in affectionately against the leathers beneath— or perhaps it's cloth. Admittedly he isn’t paying much attention there, in all fairness: his stare determined to hold Ellis’ own, to measure the etched creases in expression as they wind down. Were they in Faerun, this is precisely where an enrapturing spell would no doubt snake its way across the air between them, unseen.

Here, however, he relents. Eases away his touch— but not his gaze. Not closeness either, still hovering near the curvature of Ellis’ shoulder.

He’s here to make sure he’s all right, after all.

“Is it duty, is that it? A heart made heavy with diligent devotion?"

[heorte]

Poor circulation receives a sidelong look, but no further prodding.

Beneath his breastplate, Ellis is in the habit of wearing a padded gambeson. But is summer, and he has opted for a lighter version. Less padding, easier to stay cool in the heat. The layers are thin enough that the pressure of Astarion's thumb is felt, just as the cool lay of his palm had been. The sensation of it lingers even when Astarion lifts his hand away.

There's an echo of a question he's been asked before in Astarion's query. Ellis used to have a very clear answer, easy agreement, a door closed and latched. But it doesn't come as easily to him as it once had, not even as close at hand as when he and Alistair had talked around the matter months and months ago.

Instead, Ellis turns his right arm out and upward with a soft clank, revealing the cleverly secured buckles, as he passes over a proper answer to instead question, "Will you undo these as well?"

[illithidnapped]

It prompts a dull scoff through sharp teeth, irritation prickling high across his spine as he lifts his jaw in defiant refusal, snakelike for how his neck twists.

"Are you intending to starve me out? Must I beg you for a measly scrap of engagement after all I've done for you?"

[heorte]

The arm remains, Ellis holding his ground while he examines Astarion.

Certainly he could dissemble, to some unfavorable reception from his counterpart. There's room to quantify what Astarion's done, measure out what is owed in return.

Instead, as Ellis reaches over with his left to begin the process of undoing the buckles, "I'm not sure what you're asking of me."

The question exists as a stepping stone to what?

(Here is the trouble, why he has no ready answer: a door securely locked has been cracked open, creaking from time to time on it's hinges. Drawing attention. Ellis is never unaware of it.)

[illithidnapped]

Shut doors, crooked fingers— Astarion is ravenous. Avaricious. Even divorced from the full span of undeath, his hunger is endless in its perpetual demands, and nothing of old battlescars or locked memory is enough to satisfy alone.

"To speak, dear boy. To use your tongue to say more than just unlatch this or fetch that." His balance shifts as he hisses the words between the edges of his teeth, the very picture of an animal chuffing in starving irritation.

He is not the picture of delicate nobility any longer. Denial has made him wolfish.

"Certainly you feel. You’re not dead yet— your heart still beats within that chest of yours."

He paces a half circle around Ellis' front, hand pressed across that bracer in a more direct demand for attention, unmistakable even in dying light. His eyes are narrowed, chin jutting forward for how he strains his neck to lean in across the distance, appeal sharp as a knife's edge:

"Why do you fight? Why don't you rest? What are you afraid of?"

[heorte]

Not so long ago, Vance had snapped: I need you to stop playing dead.

It comes to mind now, as Astarion's hand closes over his bracer and impedes Ellis' efforts to work the buckle open. Ellis can count on one hand the number of people within Riftwatch who have so consistently stepped into his space this way, and even among them Astarion is unique. It's rare, for Ellis to feel crowded.

"I'm not afraid," he answers, unflinching. That's a truth. But the questions catch like prying fingers, digging at a wound. Provocation. All instinct digs in against it. He continues, "I know the value of caution."

His left hand shifts from the buckle to Astarion's wrist, bent fingers looping around his wrist. It's a loose hold, easy to shake, just an impression warning against—

Something. Whatever Astarion is seeking.

"And I don't know what you want. Not yet."

[illithidnapped]

Caution is, in truth, an undeniably sound response. One Astarion would normally urge under even the best of circumstances. One he nurses now, in fact, beneath the veneer of cheerful inquisitiveness and mirth— beneath the perpetual drive to incite response in either fever or fury.

But they're talking about how Ellis treats him, and that makes all the difference.

"I don’t want to hurt you." He breathes, all vitriol leaving him as if bled beneath the crooked hold across his own wrist— fingertips gone fragile and soft in their touch, wrist slackened— a show of supplication to Ellis' drawn line. "I’m all sharp edges, yes, but we’re allies, aren’t we?"

Punctuated by a hangdog stare that isn't overplayed, isn't rushed or forced in the way that much of his moods seem to flicker with weathervane passion; he's eased down into the rounded contours of his expression, red eyes dark beneath the heavy hang of long lashes.

"All I want is a taste of comprehension. Understanding. To know you." They're partners, aren't they? Committed to cleansing out the first few grasping fingers of Tevinter's reach. Yet the only warmth he's had all day has come from spilt blood, not conversation. Not rest.

For Astarion, it's nearly maddening.

"We can make it a trade, if it helps. Question for question: Ask me anything you like."

[heorte]

I don’t want to hurt you, feels sincere, even if Ellis can't entirely divest himself of his habitual wariness. (Or is just the habitual aversion to giving up any part of himself, to being known in the way Astarion is seeking?) But the plea does ease the tension in Ellis' face by degrees, though his fingers remain loosely clasped around Astarion's wrist.

There is a long moment of measuring assessment, considering the emotions that have shifted across Astarion's face since they arrived in the camp, his cold hand pressed to Ellis' side, the bit of ground he's ceding in pursuit of—

What? Knowing him? Ellis still can't quite grasp the why of it. Or miss the humor of their predicament. There are plenty of others in Riftwatch who would have happily bent his ear with facts about themselves. It's bad luck that he's landed on this patrol with Ellis, that's all.

"A taste," Ellis repeats, some dry humor in the agreement. "If you tell me why you're so curious."

[illithidnapped]

He makes no effort to twist, to pull— his fingertips curl light across his own palm, the backs of his hand brushing just so against that grip for it, seeking heat like a moth to a flame: flickering instinct, so insignificant it might not register to either of them.

"Because it’s in my nature, my darling. Curious as a Baldurian housecat." His free hand rises in a simple, flowing gesture, the pads of his fingers tapping across the dark buckles of his leather jerkin.

"I’m counting that as your first question, by the way."

[heorte]

"Fair enough," Ellis returns. He feels the urge to press until he comes up with something beyond simple curiosity, but is it such a stretch to wish to know?

His fingers flex around Astarion's wrist, then release him, to do what he will.

"Will you help me with this, or move your hand?" surely cannot count against his tally of questions.

[illithidnapped]

“Why, I’ll gladly help.” Said with no embellishment beyond the edges of a mildly devilish smile, angled upwards as his chin dips.

“—and that makes two.”

His fingers slide across metal painted with minuscule scratches, faint dents, working to unfasten the buckles with fluid ease. An almost impressively seamless process.

“We’ll start with something easy, shall we? Why are you willing to risk life and limb fighting for all these fragile little souls?”

[heorte]

Is that an easy question?

There isn't such a thing, where Ellis is concerned. But he weighs it up regardless, turning it over in his mind as Astarion works the buckles loose. The soft clanks of overlapping pieces fills the space between them. Ellis lowers his arm, making it all the easier to draw the armor off as he says—

"It's a Warden's duty. We're sworn to it. I don't see a reason to stop after all this time."

Not untrue, just—

An answer bigger than Ellis himself. What Wardens do. What he agreed to do.

"Better me than them," cuts closer to the truth. "I stand a chance. Most don't."

[illithidnapped]

"Yet every time you do, you’re upping the risk of your own odds. In fact, chance stood or not, I'd say your own behavior makes you all the more likely to meet your end than any of those scattered vagabonds."

Astarion withdraws his fingertips without clinging when that hand drops, head canting nearer to his shoulder as he watches bright metal give way to darker padding and cloth. All the necessities of a man ready to bleed for a cause.

"So what makes your life worth anything less than theirs?"

[heorte]

Devesting himself of the armor, lifting the breastplate up and over his head, means a more clear awareness of how close Astarion has situated himself. It seems he intends to remain, and Ellis marks it he manages the last pieces of his kit. All is easier when he has both hands, can compensate for his left.

"I don't see it that way," is also a true thing.

Though close at hand: all the reasons his life is worth less, all his failings, all the reasons he has no right to be drawing breath.

No counterpoint to the rest. Wardens put themselves in danger as a rule. There's a reason they're not known for long lifespans.

"I'm not afraid to die," is a true thing too. "Are you?"

[illithidnapped]

“What a pitifully human thing to say.”

Disapproval rings clear in his voice, lip curling as his browline sinks harsh and low, darkening the red of his eyes.

“Of course I am. And you should be, too, if you know what’s good for you.”

This isn’t play. This isn’t pretense. There’s no glimpse of endearing charm or well-offered sensibility. His shoulders are higher— tensed— his fingers curled as though he might claw them at any minute in self defense. Innate. Instinctive.

“I know death. I’ve felt the cruel kiss of oblivion upon my neck— and you should believe me when I say I’d do anything to keep it from me again.”

Servitude. Slavery. Betrayal. No matter the pain, he’d fall to his knees in it all just to keep breathing another day.

[heorte]

"I know death too."

Death, a Warden's closest companion. Death, who had come into his house and devoured his parents, his friends, his world. Death, whose handiwork Ellis has spent almost half his life observing.

Death, who has always, always stayed a hand from Ellis' throat even while striking down those surrounding him.

The last muted ring of metal accompanies Ellis' armor to the grassy earth.

"And I do believe you," is easily given over, Ellis' voice steady as he turns in the firelight to face Astarion more fully. No hint of judgement. It's a sentiment Ellis can't share but knows he should. "Ask me something else," is invitation, apology for the part of himself Ellis can't change.

[illithidnapped]

“Then you’re a fool.” Astarion asserts coldly, folding his arms across the front of his chest in a way that seems more defensive— protective— than judgmental.

Still, knowing Astarion, the latter might linger underneath all the same.

And then, with bitterness still coiled in his veins, he decides in time with Ellis that a change in subject is in order: switch flipped, attention diverted along with the flow of his posture as he moves to reach out, setting his hands across Ellis’ shoulders from behind in order to begin surveying where cuts might run deep. Touch soft, hardly invasive beyond its own searching existence.

“Do you see yourself differently than the people you fight alongside? Because you’re a Warden, I mean.”

[heorte]

A brief flick of a smile. Unspoken: Forgive me. But no contradiction. Maybe he is a fool. There are certainly those who would agree with the assessment, working alongside them now.

Tension still comes to meet Astarion's hands. Partly because of that touch, and partly because it is hard to have someone at his back who is still such an unknown is some many respects. Ellis waits out the urge to twist away, preoccupying himself with the aftermath of impact. Armor mutes a blow, but doesn't erase it entirely. He can feel where a spectacular bruise will come up on his forearm as he flexes it this way and that.

"We are set apart, because of what we've sworn our lives to," Ellis answers. "We can't forget that."

How they'll live. How they'll die. How little time they have to pass from one state to the other.

And here is the point where Ellis should dredge up a question. It's slow in coming; he isn't curious in this way, doesn't like what feels to him to be prying.

"Would you tell me a story from your home?" isn't Tell me a story but it's in the vicinity. Allowing some breathing room, for things Astarion might not want to speak of.

[illithidnapped]

“I’m not a traveling bard, darling.” Or a particularly pedantic mage, for that matter— Gale.

“And I’m afraid my life’s been a rather....restrictive one, up until now. No bedtime stories to share that wouldn’t give you nightmares.”

He finishes working Ellis over just as mildly as he’d come slithering in: slender fingertips dragging just faintly as they pull away, one breath inhaled— let go— in stepping back to leave a narrow little band of space between them.

“Well. You weren’t lying to cover your own tracks. Nothing terrible that I can see— which I suppose means it’s my turn.”

Turn literally, as he puts his own back to Ellis in low light, raising an arm to show off one wide-angled cut running long across his forearm. Shallow, but visible through leather. The other mark across his shoulder blade, just above it by an inch or so, ruddy red showing in what must have been an attempt at a stab wound that never truly took hold. If inspected, it sits surrounded by scar tissue that runs much, much thicker— and much deeper

If it hurts, Astarion doesn’t seem to notice.

“What’s your favorite scent?”

[heorte]

What comes to mind first: lavender. Lavender and clean, sharp soap and the sting of chemicals.

An easier answer: fresh-tilled earth.

But both answers are crowded aside by the slices Astarion puts on display. Ellis frowns, the first prickle of temper sparking up.

"You should have said something," follows on the heels of Ellis' hand settling on the blood-slick leather. "You're bleeding."

In comparison to Ellis, toting bruises that won't obstruct anything, won't be much more than mild discomfort when he turns the wrong way. He turns from Astarion, crouching to pull his pack upright, root within it for his medical kit.