faderift | [ CLOSED ] THE ANTIVAN CROWS SEND THEIR REGARDS

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[ CLOSED ] THE ANTIVAN CROWS SEND THEIR REGARDS

WHO: Alistair, Araceli Bonaventura, Beleth Ashara, ~~Anders~~ Detlef, Korrin Ataash, Taashath, The Iron Bull, Twisted Fate, an Zevran Arainai. Guest Starring: Samouel, Cyril, and Merrick, Super Special Guest Star: Leliana.
WHAT: The Crows come for the Ombra Nera.
WHEN: Begins Guardian 6
WHERE: Skyhold/Antivan Border/The Road
NOTES: CW/TW FOR: Flesh hommonculi, violent/gruesome content, torture, blood magic, non-consensual drug use, adult content, adult language, reader discretion is advised. Sign up post, original plotting post, hit me on PM or @

thesouthernbelle if you have questions.

It's a normal morning in Thedas until, abruptly, it isn't. The Crows come calling; they are swift, they are certain, they are silent and leave behind but one witness that won't be alive for much longer (or so they assume). Prize in hand they ride North for Antiva.

Subthreads for portions of the plot are yours to tag around in as you like!

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The noises, the shrieks and crackling of lightning, the yell from Bull, as well as the whole look of the thing that he'd gotten said this was bad news.

"Andraste's asscheeks. They're not going to follow us out. They're going to fight that thing fully, aren't they."

The tension in his voice isn't due to any dislike or anger. Rather, it's due to worry. He barely knows the people who have hung back, but he can't abandon them. And he can't abandon Zevran either.

"Do you think they have it controlled?" Do either Fate or Alistair know them well enough to say? "If not..." He doesn't know. He's not worn out yet, but he's only done a patchwork job on the most immediate needs Zevran had so they could get him out before they were jumped in the dungeons.

Growling, Taas follows suit easily and goes for the other side of the beast while Bull has its attention. It was almost second nature to fall into line with another warrior like this, and adding a challenge to that, another way to hack out his anger over this shit? he would take it.

The attacking shades makes it less of a clear path, however, and he's forced to strongarm one into the wall, heaving his axe to see if these bastards could be taken down with a normal weapon or not. If not, he's just going to slam it aside and keep going.

Three qunari should be enough, and Beleth has seen what they can do. For a moment, she looks longingly at the direction the others have retreated. Every survival instinct in her, the panic welling up is telling her to run, to keep running until everything is behind her. They don't want to trap this thing, they want to kill it, and Beleth isn't really sure if it's even possible.

But she stays, anyway.

Instead of the golem, she works on the shades. She fires volley after volley of arrows at all the little creepy ass fuckers, trying to clear a path to the golem for the two fighters. A few explosive arrows are used, far enough away from the others to keep them from getting caught in the crossfire.

Shit.

The spray of innards stings like shit, and he can feel the bile burning against his skin. But rather than let that slow him down, Bull spits and hurls himself back at the golem, axe swinging overhead and brought down into the flesh crook of the thing's...shoulder? Close to a shoulder. Likely to contain joints, tendons, weak points.

Obviously gutting it wasn't going to present a problem.

Korrin snarls as she feels that hex weakening her, but she persists as long as Taas is in sight. Beleth's help is greatly appreciated, though, and she'll take advantage any distraction that provides, swinging her glowing spirit blade. At least her barrier's still holding, and will do so as long as she remains active. All she can do is hope that she lasts longer than the hex does.

"...Go." It's rough and ragged, but Zevran shifts his weight more onto Fate than Anders. He squeezes the mage's shoulder once in a weak grip before shoving him back. He is not worth any of their lives, not even a little. He has not the breath or strength to say such, but he can do this. "Go. Keep them alive."

Arrows and ax work well enough on the shades- they burn to the touch and write, staggering and bloodied. Such is the cost of being on this side of the veil. Wounded they press on, driven by rage and pain- those struck with explosive arrows vanish is a cloud of ash and sulfur. Those caught by the edge of Korrin's spirit blade fall back, leaking smoke as a living creature would blood. They circle and strike again until cut down or shot down.

The golem snarls, a wet burble rippling along it's grotesque form in a gelatinous wave; something pops inside it's torso just as something cracks under Bull's blade. It swings a meaty fist around to strike at him as it opens it's many mouths in a pustlent deluge of bile- acidic and explosive in a spray of foul, hissing fluid that smells of rot.

The regular arrows aren't working, and Beleth mutters some various swears in Elvhen that would leave her mother aghast. Time to switch tactics. She pulls out a vial from one of her pouches, and with practiced precision, coats a few arrows in it, and starts shooting those at the shades, poison that will, upon death, cause the person to explode into a poisonous cloud--

At least, until she gets hit with fucking acid.

This is what she gets for not keeping a proper distance, but it's hard to do in these kinds of quarters. Her armor protects her from most of it. But it also shoots up a noxious fume as it eats at the cloth part of her armor, and Beleth is both gagging and trying not to scream in pain as the acid hits her hands. Her bow drops with a clatter as she tries hurriedly to wipe the acid off on her scarf.

"By the--I--Ow--Fuck."

He hates this, and despite Zevran's words he still hesitates until he hears the loud 'fuck' from the group. Life would be so much easier if he could just run and stay running, instead of stopping to help Banns or Wardens or women with very pretty eyes... His mental list goes on as he murmurs an apology to Fate and Alistair and runs back, reinforcing Beleth's broken barrier and hitting the shade nearest her with Winter's Grasp.

"Hands, now." Her bow's on the ground and she's wiping them, so they're the problem. That, and they'll need her archery, so he can justify healing her despite his earlier comment about inability.

Taas just finished hacking the shade down and turned towards the monster when it started to spray bile all over the room. It hit his chest and the side of his face, and while vitaar was a strong 'armor', it didn't really help against that.

It felt like he was on fire... but like last time, that was just what he needed.

Pain makes you angry. Anger makes you stronger. Stronger means you can kill. Berserkers and reavers weren't that different - one got more dangerous while being hurt, the other got more dangerous while hurting.

He roars, rushing forward and swinging that axe high in order to try to shut one of those mouths up permanently.

Bull's closest when the spray hits. He jerks to the side, feels it splash against his shoulder where the leather doesn't quite cover, spraying against his back. And it stings. It stinks. It's agonizing.

And all he does is channel that quivering agony back around again, imparting it right back where it had come from.

A particularly vicious yank pulls the axe free, and just in time to wheel him out of the way as Taas goes flying for the beast's face. Without pausing for an instant, Bull takes a swipe at the back of the golem's knees. The impact vibrates up his arm, but he'll hit it again if it means cutting one of those legs out from under it.

The pain is enough that she doesn't argue about Detlef healing her first. Later on, she'll kick herself about being selfish, but in that moment, her only concern was that she needed to get her hands fixed, to stop the pain. She holds her hands out, watching him worriedly, and trying not to gag, because the smell of burning flesh is everywhere, not just from her.

"Th-Thank you." She says between gritted teeth, looking up at him. "I--If I couldn't use my bow--" But there isn't time for that, so she just looks at the rest of the room instead. Bull and Taas are hit worse than she is, but the healer won't be able to help them until the monster is done with. So she just nods to Detlef, and once she's done healing, with a fully repaired barrier, she reaches and grabs her bow again, while mentally telling herself that staying is, in fact, the definition of insanity.

"If you want to stay here, stay behind me. Save your energy for helping Taas and Iron Bull once they finish that thing." And, gritting her teeth as sensitive, newly healed flesh protests using the bow, she fires one of those poisoned arrows at another shade. Keeping them off of the two fighters would be the best way to help, right now.

And is Korrin ever glad to have a functioning barrier when that acidic spray hits; that combined with the hex would have crippled her efforts. As it is, she grits her teeth at hearing the others' pain, ready to take a moment she can't really afford for a healing mist grenade, but spotting Detlef nearby brings her some relief. Good, he can concentrate on the healing. On the other hand, she will keep focusing on the shades. Every time they strike and weaken her barrier, she'll retaliate with strikes of her own, using her spirit blade to both harm them and strengthen that barrier back to what it should be.

Edited 2016-02-05 00:50 (UTC)

One by one the shades fall, to arrows, to Korrin's blade, crumpling in on themselves in piles of putrid ash and gouts of sulfur. Those struck by Beleth's arrows glow in bright pulses of demonic power before exploding in a cloud of sand and warped fabric. When the one that had cast it is struck down the hex flickers under Korrin's feet- fades, leaving her free of it's wasting influence. One struck with an arrow extends a hand, garbled black speech grating through the air like nails on bone, cuts like blood and a siphon swirl in horrid, dark power through the air to connect it's ashen form and The Iron Bull. The power is sapping, draining, minuscule cuts that bleed spatter their skin as blood and life are siphoned away.

Meaty fists swing down hard, slamming against the ground even as it is staggered- a gaping, spewing mouth silenced of it's bellows by the blade of Taas' ax. It stumbles too it's knees from the assault, and the air around it? Ripples. A sudden miasma of black, entrophic magic roils from it's flesh like a fog, roiling over the muddied ground. Those crows cut down in the fight before twitch and wrench unnaturally, staggering to their feet one by one. Shambling corpses, the lot of them, stagger to those yet engaged in battle, blades at the ready.

"..."

There's really only one word to sum up Beleth's current emotional state.

"GODDAMMIT."

Those might be three words smudged into one, but who's counting?

She'll be firing arrows at the new zombies, at any rate.

"I sincerely, absolutely, do not want to be here," Anders informs Beleth and everyone else but he doesn't leave. He stands behind her and wishes that he could have a near-infinite source of mana. The best help he can give comes after the fight and he knows it. As did she. At least he can pull out his staff and hit things with it, though.

"Frankly," he says as he thwacks the closest corpse in the head, regretting for not the first time that he hadn't let Aveline teach him more about dodging swords, "anyone who wants to be here needs their heads examined."

What's battle without a little snark? Still battle, but lacking the only bit of amusement one can get. If he's fighting, he'll be talking. He'll leave the growling to Taas and the silent fury to Korrin.

This would probably be an excellent time to retreat. Unfortunately, Taas is far too busy pulling his axe out and trying to slam it into another head, just barely dodging a swipe of those meaty hands. He can't hear any warnings and he's lost in the blood rage, shoving his other hand into what must be an eye or something, tearing what he can.

Zombies are just an extra challenge. A deadly challenge.

"I don't want to be here either, trust me!" Korrin's only thought is to keep her friends' heads on their shoulders, if possible.

And it's time to use that code word for Taas' arm cuff, so Korrin does just that while taking advantage of the vanished hex and hence renewal of energy. She closes in on the undead, swinging her blade as Vivienne taught her. Perhaps it's not as polished in application, but Korrin's use of it is vigorous and brutal, not giving the undead any quarter.

Edited 2016-02-05 01:37 (UTC)

More blood in the air. His, this time. The tears in his skin are felt, like the cut of a dozen tiny knives, skin already blistered in places from the burn of the bile spew, and that initial swell of rage bleeds out of him for a moment as he too goes to a knee, dizzy.

No. Get up.

He shakes his head to clear it, still gripping the axe tightly. When one of the zombie Crows gets a little too close, however, Bull glances up just in time. His free hand goes to snatch the corpse by the throat and squeezing, giving a sharp twist and hurling it aside.

Come on. Get up.

Time to get back to work.

The last shade is downed by the final ticking moments of Beleth's earlier poison, bursting with ash and blood (Bull's) and sand. The spell breaks as the shade dies- leaving the lingering mist that had not quite made it's way over in a gory trail between the two.

Dead and risen by magic spewing from the flesh golem, the crows lack their dexterity or skill, attacking like ravenous beasts. Their swings are wild and erratic, aiming less for vulnerable slots and more for the meat of a body- once close they claw and bite, stumbling into one another in their haste to find a target- and to keep it. They swarm the staggering mages, stumbling over their felled brethren.

With a ghastly belch of sulfur and a small gout of bile, the Golem clings to Taas' hand lodged in one of it's many skulls, it's other meaty fist reaching to it's back once again and tearing a bony, gnarled arm from it's own back before swinging hard in an arc in front of it, aiming for Taas' head. Blood and bile and it's earlier thrown entrails are slick and thick in the mud around the creature, down to it's knees as it is- making a close approach treacherous.

The mages. Detlef. Beleth makes a snap decision, dropping her bow and pulling out daggers. She's not sure if it's a good decision, but she has to protect Detlef, because he is necessary to keeping Zevran alive. It's a selfish reasoning, but it makes it easier to turn from Korrin. Trusting that the qunari woman can handle herself, Beleth uses the hand to hand skills that Merrick taught her on the corpses trying to swarm the spirit healer.

She's no Zevran or Merrick, but she's fueled by a distinct lack of self-preservation, and enough rage to make up for it. Whether or not Korrin's barrier holds, she struggles to keep the corpses off of Detlef. "Get out of here!" Is snarled as she tries to dislodge one with a kick to it's gut. "Zevran needs you."

He can't fight all of these creatures. All he can do is be a weakness and distract the fighters, but not even the fighters are doing well. Bull had been down for a time, Taas is too close to the golem, the raised corpses are everywhere, and it's bad.

"We need to all go!" How can they possibly win this fight? The last time the group he was with got swarmed, he was the only survivor and Biff made gurgly noises. ...The noises had been satisfying, actually, but there's no one in this group he hates. "Please!"

In the meantime, he's backing away, trying to keep from overtaxing any lines of defense, casting a weak healing spell over the whole group in hopes of that being enough to help make some sort of difference.

The vibration of his arm ring is completely ignored, blood rage too strong, too distracting for Taas to notice anything else than the battle.

...then he's grabbed by the golem and he roars in anger, trying to tear himself loose with all his might. It's only that movement that saves him from being hit in the head with that torn-off arm. He's still hit, however, hard enough to fly off the golem and skid across the floor, almost so close to Korrin to nearly knock her over.

He groans, shaking his head and trying to get up again. "Ashkost kata!"

"I know, but--"

And then Taas nearly knocks her over. Korrin doesn't think about what could have happened just then and there, immediately moving to provide Taas with some cover while he needs it. Casting Barrier, she then contributes to Detlef's healing with one of her healing mist grenades. With any luck, it'll be enough to keep them on their feet.

Just enough to get his edge back, as it turns out. With the golem's attention on Tass and its back turned, Bull's ready to levy some hurt against the creature again.

The attack comes from the rear, this time, launching himself at the back of the monster's head with a heavy swing at the base of its spine. Hard to tell how deep it'll cut, whether or not it'll reach bone, but he still gives that swing all he's got.

There's not a chance he's leaving this thing to wander the countryside until someone unfortunate just stumbles across it. Which is easier said than done with the undead Crows falling around them.

Between the force of it's blow, Bull's earlier cut, and Taas' grip when the Vashoth goes flying? He takes the limb he'd been clinging to with him in a wet rending of flesh and sinew- black blood seeping from the wound in thick, gelatinous drips. Apart from itself it continues to grasp at him, bone tipped fingers striving to claw or tear.

The shambling corpses shift their attention to Beleth, staggering and stumbling in the bloodied mod, over their felled brethren, or cut down by her blades. They struggle to rise, to claw their way to her through the muck, coming in at all sides-

Those unfortunate enough to be under Taas shudder and burst in a rotting mist of pus and bile; not corrosive but certainly dank and foul; the Golem's magic decomposing them rapidly even as they attempted to fight. Scattered, wriggling limbs attempt to claw their way either to Taas' throat, ankles, or over to Beleth in a slippery pile of sloughed off skin and exposed bone.

Bull's last blow has the golem locking up, head thrown back in a grating, discordant bellow, blood and sinew twitching and knotting around the mass of his blade. It attempts to wrench itself free but the cut severed it's spine and clove a fair way through it's middle, almost meeting the edge of the gash from the beginning of the fight. More bile coated, oily entrails ooze from the cut but it cannot move or turn to attack Disarmed and disabled it reaches up to grasp the largest of it's skulls-

And pulls.

Scraps of flesh and flecks of bone fall away from it's shoulders and throat, leaving a skull with small, clawlike, spindly arms and a serpent's tail of muscle coiled around what is left of it's spine. There's a moment where something black and vile connecting the two stretches and snaps- and when it snaps? The remaining crows burst like rotted fruit, coating those nearest with blood and bile. Toothy maw open wide and shrieking the remaining arm hurls it's head with uncanny aim right at Anders before the larger body collapses backward, oozing more of that black, greasy fluid.

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