WAR TABLE: Start Spreadin' the News

[hornswoggle]

WHO: Clarisse, Ellie, Desidério and Vanya Orlov
WHAT: Summary of content
WHEN:
WHERE: Anderfels
NOTES: OOC Post

Desolate and dry, the Anderfels in the winter is marginally cooler, but viciously windy. Dust whips up in stinging clouds at a moment's notice, day or night, and acts a stinging chaperone all the way to Hossberg. Camping is an uncomfortable affair, with dust and sand working through even the smallest gap in tent flaps. Travelers are few and far between, though sometimes Imperial caravans can be seen passing at a distance, easily avoided if spotted in time.

The harsh terrain provides no cover, no chance of a griffon passing overhead unnoticed during daylight. While the city is never unguarded, there are better odds of making a clean pass overhead in the wee hours of night. The soldiers patrolling every entryway to the city and strolling the ramparts are attentive, and well-armed. Their longbows are easy to spot, and their quivers are full.

Dropping pamphlets: easy

Everything leading up to actual moment of the drop and the moment directly afterwards: tricky.

Good luck.

Comments

papers please

[wearyallalone]

Vanya and Pamplemousse are, in part, well-suited because Vanya's steady calm is an effective counterweight to the griffon's playful nature. He's been flying with her for some time now, and he thinks their rapport is generally solid.

But occasionally, he's reminded of how willful she can be. He notices Desidério and Potato falling out of formation, and his first instinct is to fall back (up?) to try to help. But she is clearly interpreting the dive as the start of a race, and it's going to take him a moment to dissuade her. Even if it weren't a stealth mission, shouting is no good with this much wind in their ears, so he reaches for his sending crystal.

"Are you two alright? Did something happen?" It's hard to judge, from rapidly increasing distance, whether griffon or rider is in distress, but if Desidério can answer it's presumably a good sign.

[bribon]

The pale flash of the blue crystal light at his wrist is like a pulse in the dark—too feeble to be seen at even short distances, but clear enough to Desidério even in the whisper of cloud cover through which Potato coasts upward.

After a brief pause (one presumes a struggle ensues, which neither griffon or rider is particularly satisfied with), his answer comes crackling back to Vanya:

"I'm being overruled."

Does this maybe have something to do with the past days of travel, during which the griffons have spent most of the day staked to the ground to avoid risking them being sighted by whatever Tevinter or Anders forces might have been traveling in the region? No, surely not. The overgrown bird's just being a stubborn little—