I have moved and I've kept on moving, proved the points that I needed proving

[mythalenaste]

WHO: Pel Ashara, Morrigan, Salem Ghilain, Katniss Everdeen, Mal Reynolds, Sam Gareth, Merrill, Sina Dahlasanor (via sending crystals)
WHAT: Studying elven ruins in the Hinterlands
WHEN: End of Wintermarch
WHERE: The Hinterlands
NOTES: Some fighting, altogether Indiana Joneslike archaeology. Meaning it's not really archaeology, it's just fighting and mystical weird ancient places.

Starters below. Or make your own WILDCARD!

Comments

demons, demons, despair.

[glandival]

[ Because demons are a big deal, for those who have never met one.

Sabine is among those that take point, and fighting demons sounds fine, in theory. They're made of ordinary enough stuff that smart use of arrows and knives should work out just as well on them as bandits, and yet. She is a tense, nervous shape in the gloom as they creep within the dark tomb. Or maybe it isn't a tomb, Sabine doesn't know.

It feels like a tomb. Water in the stone and cobwebs and dust tickling her nose. When the first demon rears its head -- a shade, long armed, screaming -- Sabine lifts her aim even as a wave of-- something. Magic? Leaves her feeling dizzier than she began, and her arrow flies, sinking into the unnatural, twisting flesh. A second arrow, loosed quicker after the first than she's ever had to draw before, sinks into where she approximates its face to be.

More demons. More fighting. Somewhere, magic is being flung about, making the hairs on the back of her neck raise as she glances. She's never seen a mage in full swing, either.

Once the shade is dispatched -- Sabine fixed in place, bow and arrow ready, wild-eyed -- she sees out the corner of her eye a dark, drifting shape, one that's holding back. She reacts before she comprehends what's happening, as a steady stream of impossible ice magic jets directly to where she was standing. With some miscellaneous Orlesian curse word, she lunges out of the way, hitting the ground in a roll and righting herself to fire her arrow-- and forced again to take cover as the stream of magical cold comes for her, painting stone in a thick layer of ice, plummeting room temperature to a temporary winter. She ducks behind a pillar, bracing herself as coldness streams on either side. ]

[chainlightning]

[ Demons, and these ones are not contained. These ones are not trying to trick them. These ones are in the world and are lashing out, trying to destroy, and that makes them dangerous. That means Merrill answers with magic, with electricity crackling in the stone chamber, with her staff spinning and the Veil rippling around her. It's as easy and as natural as breathing for her, even against enemies that are a little more difficult than average.

The chill of unnatural ice makes Merrill shiver as she spins, switching from lightning to fire; flames leap out of the ground toward the despair demon, crackling and bright. A heavy breath and she calls up a barrier for the archer behind the pillar, hoping the woman doesn't take offense. ]

I can make your arrows be on fire, if you want! [ she calls a second later, even as she has to cast back a wraith with another crackle of lightning. ]

[glandival]

[ Sabine's eyes widen as strange, unnatural light glimmers over her, but it's not the look of someone taking offense so much as someone possibly in over her head. But she's nothing if not adaptive, snapping a look towards Merrill when the other elf calls out to her. ]

What?!

[ What would setting her arrows on fire accomplish! She needs her arrows! She needs them to--

Oh, wait.

Sabine chances a look around the pillar, the sharp impact of cold managing not to sink its chilly fangs past the barrier that surrounds her. Think fast. She pauses, quickly fires an arrow that whistles past Merrill's head to stick into the wraith she's trying to fend away, before yelling; ]

Now!

[ She moves out of cover enough to set arrow in place, aiming for the despair demon. ]

[chainlightning]

[ That's a yes, or so Merrill assumes -- hopes. Sabine deals with the wraith and another crackle of lightning helps finish it, and then it's time for the despair demon. Now and Merrill is used to fighting with a group, reflexes still as sharp for it as when she traveled with Hawke -- she has fought and traveled with the alienage elves since then, after all, and plenty of them are archers.

It's familiar, and even as fire sprouts up on the head of the notched arrow, Merrill almost feels at peace.

The large blast of fire she immediately whirls and hits the despair demon in the face with just maybe doesn't make it seem that way. ]

Keep shooting and I'll keep enchanting them!

[glandival]

[ Later, she will say that the flaming arrow slammed the despair demon between its eyes and then it died, who wants another round. In reality, she startles, and the flaming arrow misses its target by a few crucial inches. She swears a stream of Orlesian throughout the time it takes for her to collect another arrow and line it up, trying to still the shaking in her hands that has nothing to do with fear and everything to do with adrenaline.

But she nods her understanding at Merrill, and releases the next, teeth bared. This time, it sinks into dark, flapping robes and twisting flesh, and the torrent of ice magic suddenly ceases as it writhes, magic flames biting in.

This time, her grimace is a grin, and she continues to let fly the fiery arrows. ]

[chainlightning]

[ It does go down. That's what matters, and Merrill grins too, face lit up by magic before it burns yet another demon trying to take them out.

When the fight is done, Sabine's arrows will be unscathed from magical fire -- perhaps not from demons or impact against the stone walls, but the enchantment, at least, won't have hurt them. Merrill will approach with one that she's found on the ground, staff still out; she's leaning against it slightly, not used to fighting that many demons so regularly and taking the chance for a breather. ]

Here. You're excellent, with your bow.

[glandival]

[ Sabine can be found planting a boot on a demon corpse, tugging out an arrow, and giving it the same considering look as she does the one that Merrill offers out to her. Which is to say, slightly doubtful that they aren't damaged. She takes it, gathering it quickly into the small bundle of them she has in a fist.

With the battle over, left over adrenaline still thrums in her veins, but there's a renewed guardedness in her consideration of Merrill, hesitating over compliment. ]

Takes practice, [ she finally dismisses, with a small head toss. ] Did that? The--

[ She makes a gesture with her hands, suggesting an explosion, and says woomf. ]

[chainlightning]

Oh, yes! Magic in general does, of course, but that one- I kept enchanting the wrong objects on accident. You should have seen the Keeper's face when I accidentally enchanted her spoon with ice magic.

[ Which is still a trick she employs from time to time, if she's honest; it helps a number of foods that otherwise suffer from overheating. ]

But- well, again. Yes. I studied for years, and you can always learn more.

[ A pause, and- ]

Oh! I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself; I'm Merrill.

[glandival]

[ Sabine's head tips to the side as she listens as to magic, and Merrill has her attention, and very nearly her amusement, imagination captured by enchantments gone awry-- and then the word Keeper crops up, and Merrill's charming magical ways are put in a more alien context.

No big reaction, just a glance away, her gaze snagging over all the other elfy bullshit they're surrounded by, before she ducks into a crouch, peering over the corpse of the demon curiously, picking at the ragged fabric and lifting it up.

Then, Merrill offers her name. Sabine pauses over it, like it's an offered morsel of something she isn't sure about, looking back over her shoulder. ]

Sabine. I've never fought before with Dalish, or mages. They do not all the time care to, where I'm from.

[chainlightning]

Well, the mages might, if they're not Dalish. But- well, yes, some of the clans can be rather- like that, unfortunately. Though my clan always tried to care, whether you have vallaslin or not.

[ Sabine is offered a shy smile; Merrill isn't quite sure how the woman will react to the comment. ]

Personally, I've lived away from my clan for some time now, in Kirkwall's alienage. And I've met all sorts of interesting people! So where others may not have cared to, I do.

[ And if others don't care to, well, maybe they should rethink the Inquisition being the place they belong. Play nice with the others trying to help save the world, everyone. ]

It really is very nice to meet you.