WAR TABLE | Silent Plains | OTA

[dissolving]

WHO: Cedric Carsus + Viktor, Hermione, OTA
WHAT: Loot division
WHEN: Don't think about it too hard.
WHERE: The Silent Plains, along the Southern Tevinter border.
NOTES: OOC Info

Riftwatch is invited to help capture an Imperial supply wagon by the People of the Silent Plains, who have some complaints about the balance of power between them and the Exalted March troops.

Their scouting has led to the discovery of the supply caravan's route and other details needed for the attack, but they lack the manpower to pull it off alone. The last time they did this, though, they got less than what they considered their fair share of the supplies, leading to a current shortage bordering on a crisis. They're counting on Riftwatch to help tilt the scale further in their favor.

On the other side of this argument, the Marchers will argue that they put up more manpower and take greater risks for these joint endeavors—they provide footsoldiers, and more of them, while the People are smaller in number and more often ranged fighters and scouts who stay out of direct danger.

Riftwatch won't have enough sway to dictate the division of the loot, but it may be able to tip the scale toward the People, convince the People to be content with a limited share, or both at once.


x. CLOAKING DEVICE REPORT
x. PEOPLE OF THE SILENT PLAINS WIKI


[ ooc note: a report about general outcomes will be turned in on the 28th. backtagging still welcome! ]

Comments

there is literally zero pressure on this two months late, i'm just doing a total inbox clear o7

[dissolving]

An easy target. Easier, for the stupid way he charges at the thing, arm thrown up at the last second into a hard arc of green. Fire blooms off the anchor-shield as he lunges beneath belly, eviscerates the beast in a slurry of hot entrails. Its rider bails, finds his feet already calling for power.

Fade vanishes along Cedric's arm, as something else snaps out, suffocates the spell blooming from Venatori mouth. But the man isn't unarmed: Swinging a staff that's more a glaive for its reach. He fences Cedric onto desperate heels.

(Somewhere, far below the rocks, a body crunches.)

Toppled of its rider, the remaining dracolisk turns, veering for Agathe and Hermione - trained not to turn from battle, but into it -

Lips peel back over spiny maw, frosting a great intake of breath. Agathe screams, crashing hungry for its throat. Unless Hermione intervenes, it'll bring them right into the path of the blast.