[ OPEN | PLAYER PLOT ] This is how it feels to take a fall

[illithidnapped]

WHO: Tiffany, Barrow, Astarion and...you??
WHAT: an assignment gone terribly wrong
WHEN: week 5, segueing into week 6 of the plot, just after dragon tracking concluded with a terrible, literal bang
WHERE: the most silent portion of the Silent Plains, nearer to Hasmal, and not far from Tevinter's very nicely constructed base
NOTES: cw for injury, darkness, being stranded, absolute idiocy | OOC POST: here

Previously: having successfully scouted Primus Taxarchis’ base in the Silent Plains, Tiffany, Barrow and Astarion make an unsuccessful escape under the fully alerted watch of the base’s active forces— provoking a near lethal counter attack that sees them crash landing not far away, and forcing the stranded trio to desperately petition for help.

That’s where you come in.




The ravine runs like a crooked gash throughout desert sands, deep and layered, sloping inward at an angle too steep to safely (or reliably) climb. Easy to spot from above, not as easy to get into without breaking an ankle or an arm, and impossible to freely clamber out of once inside: the stone is brittle and flaking to the touch, lean too much on it, and you’ll drop right to the earth along with it.

The caverns connected to it are far more accessible— the only downside is they’re labyrinthine in their knotted nature: it’s easy to reach an end too narrow to be traversed, or so broad that it loops back on where you’ve already been, descending downward in steeper layers, becoming a near honeycombed network at points.

Of course, you also might not be alone in the dark. This territory isn’t as unclaimed as appearances might otherwise suggest, factoring in proximity to the base the three had been previously scouting. Luckily no overwhelming force has been sent to give chase and comb the desert in pursuit, but that’s not to say there aren’t still eyes to be found in the depths of lightless pathways. Armor-clad agents working for the exact same reasons you are, their noses to the trail.

Well. Not the exact same reasons.

The temperature is freezing cold at night, and in the fuller depths of the caverns where light doesn’t reach, that’s a near consistent constant. Firelight might draw attention, for better or worse. Magic, too, and— despite earning the label of Silent— there is wildlife occasionally to be found. Proof of life’s perseverance even in the harshes of places, fleeting and skittish.

Or dangerous.

Whatever approach is taken, one thing is clear throughout: none of this is going to be easy.


[ooc notes:

-The trio rest at the very bottom of those lightless depths where they’d initially fallen, in varying states of wellness and action.

-they’re lacking in supplies, warmth, healing, mounts, protection, a way out— you name it they need it.

-time is a given: none of this will go quickly, so feel free to handwave or assume anything you need to to make your dream threads come true.

-this timeline wise takes place at the end of week five segueing into week 6, when Riftwatch forces are free to head home if they care to, but given that this is technically hostile territory between Primus Taxarchis’ base and Hasmal, it’s probably going to be a deliberate choice if your characters decide to come here.

-pls just don’t do anything to officially alert the nearby base in full, that would be Bad— and super difficult to do from a hole in the ground but mostly just Bad. Otherwise chase your bliss and make your wildest spelunking/survival/heroic fantasies a reality.

-ooc post is here, for all your delving needs and details.]

Comments

[illithidnapped]

Astarion aches.

He only remembers it once Fenris accepts his strangled offering. Only lets a held breath slither out as he winds down, surrendering to the demands of exhaustion once more.

How stupid. How utterly absurd. All this trouble for the paltry prize of friendship.

And yet.

“You smell nice,” he adds, as his mind winds back down into perfect uselessness. As if the prior conversation had never happened at all.

[broodypants]

"I... smell nice." Fenris frowns, trying to process this new bit of information. It reminds him of- "I once knew a woman who said I had pretty eyes. It was her way of telling me to stop talking."

So, are you...

[illithidnapped]

"You barely talk as it is." Astarion mutters just as drowsily, certainty still managing to linger in his commentary.

Which isn't true— or isn't fair, maybe. Fenris might be curt, but he's done more than enough to rescue Astarion from boredom since the moment he'd first set foot in this world. So, yes. A little unfair. A little uncalled for.

Maybe that's why he musters up the energy to press on in asking:

"Did it work?"

[broodypants]

"For her? Of course."

What Isabela wanted, she got.

"I was at fault. I asked about her past. One should know better than to ask about such things, when you're talking to a pirate queen."

[illithidnapped]

"A queen." Astarion scoffs, eyes blinking open to steal an upwards glance at Fenris' expression in the dark— whatever he can make out of it, anyway.

"No wonder you were so in love."

[broodypants]

"A queen... according to her."

He scoffs, as though the suggestion of love is humorous, but there is no embarrassed denial. Astarion is simply wrong.

"We were allies," he says, "she was kind to me. Nothing more."

[illithidnapped]

“Undoubtedly a queen, then.”

Spoken slyly. The pride of a well-placed punchline despite all current miseries— and completely fumbled a beat later. Dropped like a coin in a drain.

“—oh. I just thought. Well. The way you talked about her...”

He's in over his head. Too foggy and faint to properly navigate the waters he's foolishly stomped his way into. Not because Fenris is reeling from the suggestion, or even bothered by the intrusion of it—

But because Astarion can't seem to shut up.

“Kindness can be a sort of love, I imagine. Not that I’ve any experience with it, but um. Hm.”

A beat, his pale brow pinching as he shuts his eyes, muttering, “You know, I’m suddenly very tired.”

[broodypants]

It is because Astarion is so clearly out of sorts that Fenris feels he can admit some quiet truths. "I have never been in love." It doesn't concern him much. His life is shaped differently, away from such concerns.

He keeps walking. "Sleep, then. When you wake, we will be above ground."

[illithidnapped]

There are parts of this conversation he’ll remember, and parts he won’t. Funny, how close to being drunk it is, that combination of exhaustion and duller pain wreathed around his mind. In the moment, he thinks it’s a shame.

Ten years.

No one left.

Probably a lesson to be learned somewhere in there. For now, he does the only thing he can: Astarion relaxes in that hold, and drifts away with absolute certainty that Fenris will keep his word.