All Mortals Shall Know - Part II

[faderifting]

WHO: Anyone
WHAT: A hit close to home
WHEN: Beginning of Cloudreach 9:50
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: OOC post! General CW for war-related violence, NPC death mentions, and significant peril to PCs. Use other CWs in your subject lines as needed.

Just after sunset, an hour or so after the news begins to arrive of mass Venatori action in Minrathous—a second coup, if it can be called that when the power already behind the throne finally steps out in front of it—comes another alarm, this not through the crystals at first but from Kirkwall itself. The watchtowers Riftwatch once helped repair burst with signal fires. Just one at first, to the northeast, and then after a time two more at once, and a fourth, bright against the falling dusk. On each the shutters begin to flash, two short interruptions and one long: the signal for a dragon attack.

Not even a high dragon like the one Corypheus's has tainted with red lyrium and enthralled could cover the distance from Minrathous to the Free Marches so quickly. But the watchtowers continue to blink the signal until, one by one, they're snuffed out.

I. THE CITY

Griffon riders and ranged fighters are called out as soon as the dragon signals come in, taking flight to wing across the harbor and spread out to locate this dragon, still not visible even from the roof of the Gallows. In the time that word is spread, lift ridden or stairs climbed, griffons mounted and launched, the watchtowers go dark, the sun falls deeper below the horizon, and Riftwatch arrives in the city proper just in time for a massive explosion at the Viscount's Keep to light up the twilight. Silhouetted against it, and now seared into the backs of everyone's eyes, is the shape of two small draconic creatures with riders on their backs wheeling away from the Keep.

Now that they know what they're looking for, Riftwatch's griffon riders will realize there is no single large dragon over the city. Instead there are a dozen or more of these creatures, smaller than griffons, bodies like large horses between leathery wings. The first time one wheels close, its rider flinging a spell or a grenade, they'll recognize the shape of the heads, the shrieking cries, the burst of fire or ice or acid poison from their mouths—they're dracolisks, now with wings.

Below, a hue and cry in the streets brings citizens with bows and buckets, joining the fight against attack and fire both. The city guard mobilized as soon as the first watchtower was lit, and arrows and crossbow bolts spray from atop the walls and roofs, but their range is too-easily evaded. The enemy on their dracolisks wheel above the city, some attacking Riftwatch's griffon riders, attempting to herd them into the path of a spell, others breaking off to drop explosive grenades on the city below, pillars of smoke rising beneath them.

Just as Riftwatch's griffon riders are beginning to come to grips with what they're dealing with and engage the enemy in the skies, another explosion lights the falling dark. Just as large as the one that has taken the top off Viscount's Keep, this comes from the stairs to Hightown. The noise alone is tremendous, the sound of the explosives almost drowned by cracking stone and the earth-shaking crash of buildings tumbling down from the edge of the cliffs above as Darktown splits open and sends a slice of Hightown cascading down into Lowtown. As it falls, a cadre of dracolisks breaks off from their current paths and heads for the Gallows.

While much of Riftwatch will need to follow them to defend the Gallows and the work contained in its towers, others may remain in or over the city to continue assisting with defense there. The remaining dracolisk riders will attempt to target the Twins—the large statues outside the entrance to the harbor, connected to the chains Kirkwall uses to control ship traffic through the Waking Sea—in an apparent attempt to down them and block that passage entirely. But between Riftwatch and the force of guards and civilian militia members mustered by Guard-Captain Aveline to shoot arrows from the walls and skybridges, they'll be driven off without success.

II. THE GALLOWS

At the Gallows, those who don't ride griffons have also been instructed to prepare to assist the city. As the explosions in the city are felt, large enough to rattle the furniture even from this distance, and news of the flying dracolisks arrives, all hands are ordered to get themselves to armor or infirmary and make ready to venture across the harbor. Those who can provide healing are an obvious need, but just as urgent will be assistance with evacuating damaged buildings and protecting those on the ground, especially if this proves to be followed by a ground attack. But the first ferry hasn't yet left the Gallows dock when the battle comes to them.

There is barely time for a crystal alert of incoming dracolisks before they arrive. They wing circles around the towers, flying close enough to touch the sides, hovering for seconds here and there in pairs as if trying to look in the windows. Almost as soon as they've come they draw back–

And then the Mage tower explodes. A burst of light and force engulfs the uppermost floors, flinging stones the size of a man outwards. It is immediately apparent to anyone remaining within (though there should be few, given how lightly occupied it is to begin with) and those watching from without that the blast has destablized the entire tower, which teeters for only a moment or two, just barely long enough to allow for a race to safety, before toppling over with a thunderous crash. It tips outwards before it drops, crushing a chunk of the outer wall and flinging the remains of its top floor into the sea. The impact sends out a shockwave, followed by a cloud of dust and debris that sweeps across the Gallows courtyards.

The other devices—because now that they know to look, there are devices fixed to the sides of the other two towers, up near the top—do not explode immediately. The dracolisk-riding Venatori continue to circle above, throwing spells and arrows and the occasional small grenade down at the denizens of the Gallows, while two of them also appear to be focused on the devices, trying to get near enough again to hit them with some sort of spell. It quickly becomes clear that there is a chance to save these towers, if the attackers can be fended off long enough to remove or disarm the magical devices before they're triggered.

Of course, it's not going to be easy. The devices are each attached to the outside of the tower between the top two floors, meaning they must be accessed by climbing out a window or off the roof and rappelling down to them. Once there, they'll prove to be attached with some impossibly sticky substance, such that trying to pry them off would damage the workings and risk explosion. The only option is to deactivate them where they are—whether by lowering someone knowledgeable down a rope, or by conveying instructions to someone good with heights by crystal or from the nearest window. The insides prove to be a complex combination of machinery and magic, clockwork mechanisms, enchanted or carved with delicate runes, panels inscribed with glyphs, glass tubes full of Maker knows what volatile compound, brass spinners like thaumoscope sensors, and so on. If attempting to defuse a bomb while dangling from a rope weren't difficult enough, the Venatori on dracolisks remain active overhead, doing their best to wreak havoc below while trying to hit the devices with the activation spells, which (thankfully) require concentration, time, and very precise aim.

They succeed in activating the device on the Templar tower first. Unlike the Mage tower, it doesn't immediately explode, but instead begins sending tendrils of ice racing out along the stone, finding its way into every crack and fissure, every weak patch of mortar, forcing the tower apart stone by stone. But the interference of those working to stop it has done something—weakened the device, or distracted the mage on dracolisk-back sufficiently to throw off the spell she casts to detonate it—and the ice only spreads so far.

But it does spread. Those defending the Templar tower will have to abandon it as the uppermost floors begin to crumble, aided by force and telekinetic spells that can target the frozen weak spots without needing so much precision. Climbing down, catching a griffon ride, or jumping across the gap to the main tower (if someone's good enough at jumping) are all rational choices, under the circumstances, but those who choose none of the above and take the stairs may be able to make it to the lower floors before the upper three collapse.

In the meantime the Venatori shift all their focus to the Central tower, home to Riftwatch's painstakingly-assembled library of rare volumes, records of all of its work, and storerooms full of irreplaceable artifacts. There, a third type of device. When an activation spell gets through, it at first seems to do nothing, but then the stones of the tower begin to shake. At first just a tremor, but the shaking intensifies and spreads, like an earthquake spell amplified throughout the building. Those trying to defuse the device must race to deactivate it before the building rattles to dust beneath them, taking most of Riftwatch's resources with it.

The Venatori do their best to disrupt this work, trying to pick off those on the outside or top of the tower, lobbing spells and explosives at those on the ground, and doing battle with the griffon riders in the air, but eventually, the device is disarmed, its shaking stopped before it can bring the tower down, and the enemy forces retreat.

III. THE AFTERMATH

The sun rises on a changed, chaotic Kirkwall. While the attackers didn't manage to inflict all of the damage they'd planned, Viscount's Keep is still rubble—with reports indicating Viscount Bran Kenric is among the dead, caught by debris while trying to organize an orderly evacuation—and Hightown, Lowtown, and Darktown alike suffered losses from the decimation of the staircase. The gap in the stairs is quickly bridged to facilitate movement, but the solutions begin makeshift, starting with a rope and wood bridge only wide and reliable enough for a few people at a time, and will take days and weeks to progress into sturdier scaffolding and wooden stairs to cover the missing piece. In the meantime, travel between the high and low parts of the city is slower, often involving long queues for either the narrow bridge or a ride on the industrial lifts straight up the cliffside from the docks.

Despite the damage, the mood in the city is more defiant than anything, anger primarily directed at Tevinter. There are some who blame Riftwatch, claiming that it's only their presence in the city that drew the attack, that they would all be safer if these foreign troublemakers took their problems elsewhere. But this idea doesn't get a whole lot of traction, especially not after the warning system they helped repair and Riftwatch's efforts to fight the enemy above the city at the expense of leaving the Gallows vulnerable. Their assistance with clean-up efforts in the city doesn't hurt, either.

In the Gallows, meanwhile, things might feel more destroyed than not, with the dust and debris from the collapsed Mage tower and the upper sections of the Templar tower scattered across the rest of the island. On the side of the Mage tower, the damage is extensive, with a whole section of the outer wall collapsed and a significant amount of the debris—including the residents' belongings—spilled across the rocks and down into the harbor. On the Templar side, stone walls from the upper floors have fallen more or less straight out and down around its perimeter, blocking walkways, with a large chunk of wall nearly flattening the smithy and all of its doors. Debris litters the training yard and has knocked a few holes into the thinner roofs of outbuildings and covered alcoves.

The Central tower is least affected, save the eyrie, which had previous holes and damage from the mage rebellion in Kirkwall and fell further apart, in turn causing the ceilings of the Scouting and Research division offices to partially collapse and bringing the structural integrity of the entire floor into doubt. The brand new lift, on the other hand, has come through largely unscathed. So too has the new tavern, as yet unnamed, and its first shipment of ale. So there is some good news.

The first two days after the attack, while the extent of the damage and possibility of further collapses are still being assessed, Riftwatch members are barred from sleeping in or near any of the standing towers, instead directed either to Riftwatch's warehouse near the docks or to tents set up around the debris of the Mage Tower, which can't really fall any further than it already has. As days pass, other options will open up: setting up cots in the outbuildings, dragging mattresses from the groups quarters into library alcoves, staying with various Riftwatch members and allies who have space to offer in the city, or continuing to camp out in the courtyards and among the debris as the weather warms enough to make it more or less pleasant. But between the time for reconstruction and the need to fund it, it will be at least a month before anyone can move into the remaining residential tower.

Assisting with relief in the city and sorting through the scattered debris in the Gallows or helping the hired labor brought in to help clear and rebuild will be an ongoing effort. In the meantime, everyone still has as much—or more—of their usual work to do as ever: adjusting plans and forming new ones to account for Corypheus' open takeover of Minrathous and the problems and opportunities that provides, or dealing with the news of other attacks that begins to arrive through contacts and field agents.

Comments

[katabasis]

[It makes for an unholy cacophony, there and gone in what should be an instant of griffon on lizard violence, but instead falling away in apparent half time. A blur of white feathers in the dark. The gleam of moonlight on fine scaled flesh.

Flint continues climbing. The air is freshing, a breeze playing across the central tower from the side no longer protected by its shattered sibling. If there's such thing as good luck, it's that he's dressed all in blacks and greys already and makes for a poorly deciphered target in the dark.

And then he's reached the tumor plugged to the tower's outer wall.

First order of business, briskly assessed while finding his footing on one of the many horizontal architectural features that ladder up the tower's facade; apparently no one was so concerned about the prospect of Gallows security this high up to forgo a little ostentatious Tevene design:]

Have someone run a line down from the eyrie. I'll need something to put weight on.

[As for the box—]

There's something adhering it to the wall. Black, tarry. Send down a measure of lye with the cable. The rest is in a casement. Five sides. A series of balances and measured vials, and what looks like two hammers set to the stone. The balances look to feed into an enchantment. At a guess, I'd wager there's lyrium involved.

[There usually is.]

[overharrowed]

[It all happens so fast (he suppose battle always does). Julius has barely finished his own thought in response to Fifi's question when he gets the word from Flint. To Fifi:]

As the Commander said; go see to the line and the lye. Grab someone else if you need the second pair of hands.

[That done, he continues toward the Research office. As he goes, he replies to Flint by sending crystal:]

Are the vials opaque, or can you tell anything about what's in them? Consistency, viscosity? [Color is probably too much to hope for after dark, though hey, something could be glowing.] I've got an idea about a timing mechanism with those hammers, but if we can work out some of what's in it without setting it off, that will probably speed things up.

[There's no time to wish for a larger organization, but he would dearly love something other than notes and his own memory just now. That said, glyphs have always been an interest, and glyphs and traps often go hand in hand. At least the memory might have something helpful if he can recall it in time and accurately. If.]

[katabasis]

[While Julius speaks, the knife from Flint's belt tests first at the possibility of simply prying the whole piece away (quickly dismissed; levering in under the edge sends one of those scales trembling), and then at the edge of the casement's cover. The second one has some merit. Apparently no one was too troubled over the possibility of the thing being opened after it was fixed to the wall.

(Which can't be promising as far as the delicacy of the internal workings and their likelihood of activating under interference goes. But he's here and the device must be managed, and so the fact is merely filed away.)]

There's lyrium here. [With the casement cover open, he can confirm that much now.] Two vials are something darker. Black or near it. Possibly blood, though don't take my word for it.

[untiltheyarent]

[Her legs feel like they're going to wobble right out from under her as Fifi nods to the Seneschal and begins to sprint up the stairs, gripping the banister and pretending she doesn't feel the shaking of the building around her.

How lucky that he asked for lye, she thinks, snatching her previously abandoned cleaning basket as she makes her way up to the eyrie, letting it fall with her to her knees on the stone floor before beginning to tie a sequence of rags together to form a line.
Frantic birds caw and swoop about the room, too afraid to fly out and make a proper break for it, but unable to settle. She sings quietly in Orlesian as she works, to steady them and also herself.

When the line is ready, the jar of lye tied onto it in a little rag pouch, Fifi forces her top half out the window to see Flint below.]

Commander! [she shouts over the noise her hair whipping into her face, as she begins to lower the payload.]

[overharrowed]

Blood would make sense, considering.

[It's as much to himself as it is to Flint, but he leaves them to work on the adhesive for a moment as he makes it to the Research office. It's not his division anymore, but he was in and out enough with Sashamiri projects that he has a decent idea of what he's looking for. He grabs one book he'd looked at a few weeks back, after telling Barrow he'd look for ways to help with the siege engines. (He's left that too long, it seems, but that's a regret for if they survive the night.) He half remembers something in there about remote triggers for spell work that might be useful.

There were also some notes about potential ways of storing spell energy for later among Kirkwall mages. He's not going to give himself long to look for it, but it's worth at least a moment or two while Flint and Fifi working on disloding the thing if they can.]

[katabasis]

[Thanks to whichever nefarious Tevene architect decided fitting the Gallows towers upper floors with various handholds and ledges. It means receiving the jar and staying balanced requires only the modicum talent of not being scared of heights, rather than any great acrobatic skill. The sequence of rags he trusts considerably less though. That's a long line of questionable knots to risk as a spare hand hold.]

Find a rope, [Is called back up to her as Flint cranks open the jar.] There should be cabling with the griffon's tack.

[In the mean time— waiting for a shift in the wind, then coating the sticky residue in the acidic powder. By the time Julius reaches the Research division offices, Flint is prying in under the edge of the casement with his knife. To the crystal at his lapel:]

I suspect this going to take time we don't have.

ok maybe I misunderstood what kind of eyrie it is but there are still birds

[untiltheyarent]

[She disappears again without comment, reappearing moments later with the requested rope, bracing herself against another shudder of the tower as she loops it around an overhead crossbeam and uses her full weight to secure the knot. The other end is lowered quickly to Flint, as she takes great care to keep it in his reach and not whipping about in the wind.]

meanwhile: sees my own typos, cringes

[katabasis]

[This line apparently satisfies enough for Flint to use as a tie off, free now to work more deftly with more hands. A necessity: if the device isn't coming off the wall, the delicate pieces inside its casement will need to be managed. It's not exactly a one handed job.

It would be preferable if the woman on the floor above him were a crack shot, is a distant thought. But in the spirit of making do—]

Call out if you see the Venatori coming this way, [he shouts back up at her; the distance isn't so great as to have the message entirely snatched away by the air between their two points. Maybe she can give him warning enough to call in an intervention across the crystal if it comes to that.

(Unlikely. But let's strive to be optimistic.]

[overharrowed]

[Meanwhile, as they're dealing with the physical logistics, Julius is poring through notes and thinking furiously. He comes back on the sending crystal to ask:]

I assume you'd say if you saw an writing, but can you make out any glyphs or symbols? Maybe a circle with a line through it and dots around it?

[Glyph work could suggest a few avenues for undoing it, though alarming that they'd made something persistent enough to linger on the item. Its absence might point them toward something more mechanical. (He's keenly aware that they don't have time for any real trial and error.)]

[untiltheyarent]

[Between the wind, the explosions of magic here and there, and the various flying combatants, calling out a Venatori is easier said than done; but Fifi commits to it anyway, keeping her attention half on the sky and half on Flint below, in case he should need further immediate assistance.

The apparatus gives the tower a jolt, with enough force to knock her off her feet and likely bungle whatever Flint is trying to do, but it settles a moment later and she drags herself up just in time to shout into her crystal:]

Above you, Commander!

[One of the dracolisk riders, struck by an arrow, tips off their mount and plummets, screaming, toward the ground. Between them and their destination is Flint.]