player plot: the horror of sarrux's pass

[aberratic]

WHO: Caius, Gwen, Hermione, Jayce, Ness, Siorus, Stephen, Vanya (sumptus, elegiaque, reparo, pathlit, aberratic, wildered, portalling, wearyallalone)
WHAT: The Horrors Cometh
WHEN: Beginning of Harvestmere (October)
WHERE: Sarrux's Pass, outside Wycome
NOTES: OOC post here. TWs for body horror, NPC death, ghost town/apocalypse vibes, children in upsetting situations, and general horror stuff.

Characters

CAIUS

GWENAËLLE

HERMIONE

JAYCE

NESS

SIORUS

STEPHEN

VANYA

The residents of Sarrux's Pass, a small village tucked into the mountains of the Free Marches, have long held that their settlement used to be a bustling trade city where dwarves were as plentiful as humans and they had constant contact between the surface and the Deep Roads. These were assumed by the surrounding cities to be nothing more than fanciful legends for decades, but any long-time resident swore it was the truth, lost to time and "monsters in the deep."

Residents were finally vindicated a few months ago when an earthquake caused a landslide in the surrounding mountains, revealing a long-lost outlet from the Deep Roads. At first, residents of the pass were apprehensive, all too aware of the dangers posed by such an opening, but the longer they went without Darkspawn spilling from the entrance, the more eager they became to investigate.

Eventually, the bravest among them began to enter the Roads, in search of ore and artifacts. They were vindicated again, finding both, and Sarrux's Pass quickly became a magnet for treasure hunters, Lords of Fortune, historians, archaeologists, and anyone in search of a quick buck. Even in the face of the Venatori invasion of the Marches, the promise of fame and riches drew handfuls of people seeking their fortunes to the Pass. News from the area was steady, and filled with discoveries and success stories—as well as the brawls, backstabbing, and even the occasional murder that comes with any good gold rush town.

It's been a few months since the reveal of the Deep Roads entrance. News from Sarrux's Pass has slowed to a trickle, then a drip, and now, in the past weeks, nothing. The last message to make it out of the village three weeks ago said simply: "We weren't just right about the dwarves." The parchment was stained with an unidentifiable liquid—not water, not blood—which smelled of the sea.

Riftwatch has been tasked with investigating the village, with three goals: find out what happened to the residents, recover whatever valuables they can from the Deep Roads, and, if necessary, close the entrance again. There may be Venatori in the area, or Darkspawn, or territorial prospectors—without contact with the village, there's no way of knowing what Riftwatch may discover. © tessisamess

Comments

[wearyallalone]

Vanya had been among the first into the chamber: it was a practical choice, even if he'd have done the same were it much less practical. He can take a hit in a way none of the others can, now that Siorus was taken, and he's not hesitant to lead the charge once they get the door down.

A distant, unheeded part of his mind observes he's probably going to have nightmares about this later. The lyrium in the chamber is humming, and it's wrong, but also some part of him can't help respond to it. He ignore that, too, with the determination of a man who has aggressively compartmentalized ... well, if not worse than this, at least as bad.

They're not going to be able to defeat this many Darkspawn. Not outright. But he's also not going to leave their people, especially Gwenaëlle, so the only way is forward. When he sees the captives, he kicks into a run, faster than he looks like he should go, taking some blows rather than stopping to deflect them. Some of those blows are wicked, but none of them hit a place that stops him. (The blood loss is a concern for later, if they all live that long.)

[aberratic]

Ness isn't close enough to really hear the impact Gwenaëlle makes against the pool, but she hears it all the same. Feels it, too, her face aching in sympathy where Gwenaëlle's hit the rocks. She runs, twisting and dodging through Darkspawn and monsters with more agility than she's ever had in her life. The closer she gets to the lyrium, the more intensely her body reacts. Her skin itches and her hands hurt—but that's not important. She can worry about that later. Gwenaëlle, Siorus, and Caius are all that matter.

The fingers that wrap around Gwenaëlle's arm to pull her out of the brine are elongated, purple, capped with sharp nails nearly an inch long. Ness actively suppresses her flinch at the sight, tamps down on the despair that threatens to overtake her, and pulls with all her might. The brine clings to Gwenaëlle, insistent, and Ness groans through teeth gritted with effort—she's not strong enough to get Gwenaëlle out alone.

Behind them, Holden reaches for the crown on Kittrick's head, flailing and desperate. Kittrick tackles his brother and drives him back, Siorus and Caius afterthoughts to his compulsion to attack his brother.

[elegiaque]

Her head is ringing and her false eye has shoved painfully out of its proper place and she can't identify the other feeling that isn't pain and isn't good, either— when Ness's hand wraps around her arm she struggles at first, the claws that bite into the firm leather of her heated armour not familiar enough to immediately trust. It takes precious seconds longer to register that she is being pulled, not pushed; to decide not to question the source and participate in this rescue, scrabbling with her hands for the edge of the pool to add her own momentum to force herself back from it.

Her mouth tastes of blood and the bones in her face feel as if they've decided to experiment with alternative arrangements— she doesn't scream so much as gurgle as she tries to force the brine from her, lifting her head and feeling the entire world swim around her at the suddenness of the motion.

[wearyallalone]

For a man so determined to be logical, there is no logic in going for Gwenaëlle first, rather than either of the two, especially when Ness is already there. But Gwenaëlle is his friend, and in a moment where all his training tells him that doesn't matter, that he should make the tactical choice... it does matter. Enough.

Vanya makes it to the pit moments later, reaching to help fully get Gwenaëlle out and away, adding his force to Ness's efforts and Gwenaëlle's own. They've already gotten her far enough out he's not in immediate danger of touching the brine himself, more than the little that's still on her. (He's bleeding from his left shoulder and his right knee, fairly heavily. The adrenaline is high enough he can't even feel that yet and it hasn't slowed him down.)

[aberratic]

Between the three of them, Ness and Vanya pulling and Gwenaëlle—helping—between the three of them, their efforts are enough. Gwen pulls free of the brine with a sickening squelch that sounds like tearing, and Ness falls backwards onto her ass without the resistance. She sits there, breathing harshly through her nose, and scans the mass of monsters, desperate—they need Stephen, they need a doctor—

There's no time to look for him. The brothers are caught in a furious tussle, one's eyes burning violet with a shimmering crown above his head, but they're not the only ones near—a mutated villager rushes Ness, vulnerable on the ground, and she screams—

Her lips don't part. No matter how desperately she tries, she can't open her mouth to make a sound, and no amount of panicked psychic energy flung at the mutant gives it pause. It batters at her, furious and deadly, and she can do nothing but roll with each hit, trying to protect her face.

There are only brief glimpses of the world beyond the villager, chaotic snatches of Gwenaëlle and Vanya huddled together beyond the flailing, grasping limbs, too many limbs, of her attacker. Gwenaëlle barely looks conscious, much less able to stab anything with any accuracy. Vanya is only slightly better off, adrenaline pushing him through what should be a concerning amount of lost blood.

There's no time to think. The second she gets an eye on him under the villager's arm, Ness flings herself desperately into Vanya's mind, grabbing his attention with a terrified mental shriek.

[wearyallalone]

Assuming she can receive, as well as send, the response from Vanya is instantaneous and strong: an attempt to push her out. There's, far and back, an emotional reaction too, but the stronger thing she feels isn't that. It's years of training, the move of a swordsman parrying before he's consciously processed an attack. He doesn't register that the voice is one he knows before he's already resisting, decades of training in will and focus kicking into play.

That said, he's no mage. Vanya has no supernatural means of resistance beyond the strength of his own will. He'd been planning to rally to come to Ness's aid, but the mental effect derails him. Instead, he falls into a more reactive but defensive stance over Gwenaëlle, trusting instinct while his focus is on his mind.

[aberratic]

She should have expected this, perhaps—but no one she's reached out to like this before has failed to recognize her. Vanya's mind shoves her back on reflex, but there's nowhere for Ness to go, and her spike of panic at his rebuff drives into his mind like a nail.

The mutated villager slams its misshapen fists brutally against her arms. Something cracks, and she wails wordless agony into Vanya's mind. The pain of whatever broke forces her to drop her arms from their protective position in front of her face, leaving her vulnerable, and she curls to the side, head ducked against her chest.

Her thoughts are a jumble of terror and pleading and dread, with the distinct sense that she's been here, at the mercy of some terrible alien monster, before.

[wearyallalone]

They're at cross-purposes, in serious ways: Vanya doesn't come from a world where he expects a voice in his head that sounds like an ally to be anything other than a trap. A trick. But he still has command of his own body, which is something. That far-back feeling is, perhaps, easier to identify as fear when it faintly echoes what Ness is screaming at top volume. But he ignores it. Do it scared is another thing that has been burned into him by decades of training and habit. Whatever is happening in his mind, his limbs still obey his intentions.

It feels like an eternity in the dilated time of combat, but it's only a heartbeat or two. Whether the scream in his mind is in fact his ally, Vanya can see that Ness is vulnerable and he's moving to close the gap. The mutated villager, so focused on an unguarded target, doesn't catch the surprisingly swift advance before Vanya's shield is bashing them broad-side, throwing them off their footing.

Given how desperately outnumbered the Riftwatch party is, there's no hesitation. Anyone who didn't come with them from Kirkwall isn't someone Vanya thinks they can save at this point. When he lunges to take an opening, it's to put Ness's assailant down in a way they won't get up from again.

[aberratic]

The next blow, much as she fears it (whimpers, pleading I'm not a blood mage, I swear, I promise, please, I don't want to die into Vanya's mind, trying to convince him) never comes. It takes her a long moment to uncurl, to raise her head and look to Vanya with tear-stained cheeks. He stands over the body of the villager, and she blinks up at him, inhuman eyes still somehow owlish and miserable.

I can't open my mouth, is as tremulous projected into his mind as it might have been spoken aloud. The seam of her lips sticks as she flexes her jaw and emphasizes her point—maybe it could be cut open, but who knows what that would do. A sound comes from behind Vanya and Ness glances to Gwenaëlle, concerned, but another glance back to Vanya and she stills, eyes stuck on his weapon.

A few feet away, the crown on Kittrick's head has shimmered back into the Fade, but the brothers still fight. The monsters around them, mindlessly enraged, fight each other as much as anyone in Riftwatch.

[wearyallalone]

Detached and calm, he has the thought that this will certainly feature in some nightmares if he survives all this. But it's a fleeting thought that he lets go before it has time to properly register.

Instead of trying to cut her mouth apart immediately — it could easily do more harm than good, and he'd have to get out his dagger which would mean sheathing his sword — he gestures toward Gwenaëlle. "If you're not too hurt to move, we have to get away from that pit and somewhere more defensible. I'll give you the best cover I can as we run, but to do that you're going to have to take most of her weight. If you can't, I'll have to carry her and just pray we don't take any hits that are too well-aimed."

It's shouted rather than thought, though whether that's out of stubbornness or ignorance that he can answer her in his mind as well is anyone's guess. The chaos means they aren't particular targets, but it also means they won't have long before the next aggressor gets close enough to take a swing. Whatever they do next, it needs to be quick.

[aberratic]

Confident now that she's not about to be under threat from a friend, Ness pushes herself to her feet, taking stock of her injuries with careful movements while she crosses over to Gwenaëlle. She's tender, bruised—but her arms still work, she can bend at the elbow. There's every likelihood she'll be exacerbating her injuries by asking her arms to do this, it hurts to move, even if she can—

but she can.

I'll do it, she promises, straight into his head, and kneels down next to Gwenaëlle, slipping gently into her mind. The gaps are getting easier to see, easier to move through without ripples.

Captain, I'm going to lift you up. Please don't throw up on me.

Gingerly, teeth grit against the pain in her own arms, she pulls Gwenaëlle's arm over her shoulder and stands. Sweat beads on her forehead, but her grip holds firm and her legs bear up under her, supporting them both without shaking. She looks to Vanya, inhuman eyes unreadable, and pours herself back into his thoughts.

Ready.