faderift | [Closed] Wartable: RESCUE WAYLAID INQUISITION CARAVAN

Scouts' information will point your characters toward Gironde, a small village located in the rocky Frostback foothills east of the Emerald Graves. Villagers will be able to point your characters to the remains of the merchants and Inquisition guards who were accompanying the shipment, now shallowly buried alongside the road.

Edited 2016-02-06 04:35 (UTC)

"At least whoever took our supplies had the decency to bury their guards." Lenneth's voice is calm and matter-of-fact, but her knuckles are white where she grips the hilt of her sword.

"Whoever did this had the situation well in hand. How else take even the little time necessary to do so?"

"Custom's usually to burn, not bury. I'd almost say they were looking to cover their tracks, though this is pretty sloppy work if that's the case."

Bull crouches beside the graves, running his fingers over the soil, testing how long it's been since it was overturned.

He looks at the graves, puzzling this over. These people have just robbed the Inquisition but they felt they had enough time to dig rather than burn. Or they didn't want the telling plume of smoke?

"They may have been worried about a group from the village coming to investigate too early. Interrupting them. I don't take it anyone here knows the reputation of Gironde?" It hadn't seemed a bad little town. Watchful, though. Maybe they had made a name for themselves with that. That would at least mean the attackers were from the area, to have known it, and that there may be a base not too far away.

"Or maybe they thought we'd scouts in the area."

Edited 2016-02-09 00:13 (UTC)

"Never heard of it."

Not that that's really a surprise coming from one of the rifters, but Jamie not knowing something's never really stopped him from making observations before. While he does glance at the graves briefly, he stands back, letting the others study them more closely while he scans the area, looking for any other signs that might help explain what's going on.

"Doesn't make sense to take the time to bury them and then move on if they were in any sort of a hurry, though. You'd think that they'd just leave the bodies and go, or just pull them under some sort of cover. Doing this would take too long...unless they weren't worried about being discovered, that is."

Edited 2016-02-09 03:34 (UTC)

"You don't bury noth'n 'less you're try'n t'hide somth'n." Jayne's sniffing about, trying to get a sense of the area. Mal's seen plenty a things like this in his time but never quite so messy, and it weren't bodies what were buried. Tools, goods, swag, sure. Bodies?

Not all that normal.

"Mighta gotten started, got spooked?"

"By the townspeople? Us? Or something else?"

Too many possibilities. They'll need to find where the rest of their caravan went before getting any real answers. Bull grunts as he pulls to his feet, eyes falling to the dog sniffing around the still dark earth.

"Think we've got a trail to follow?"

If they were spooked, the cause could be important. Walking into far more than they were ready for was a risk. But at the same time, there was too much of a risk to any possible survivors for them to linger much longer.

"Let's hope we do." He shifts the staff on his back, reminding himself it's there. "There may be more we can find here, but I'd like to press on. If any of our people have been taken hostage, they may not have a great deal of time." It probably went without saying that he had a personal investment in keeping people from being captive, as a mage.

Whatever the reason behind the burial is, Detlef has a point - and a good one, as far as Jamie is concerned.

"Aye, the longer we wait here, the more we risk something happening to them. I say we get going and we can see what we can pick up along the way."

As far as he's concerned, the sooner they get going, the better. He takes a few steps away from the grave in preparation to head off wherever the group decides, but as he does so his eyes wind up flicking over to Jayne, just on the off chance the Mabari's managed to pick up some sort of scent. Something like that would definitely help point them in the right direction, at least to start.

Lenneth lingers slightly.

"...If your custom here is to burn, then Inquisition soldiers still lie here unattended to. They have been left once, they must not be left again. Especially not by their own. Are there any here who know the proper rites?"

"We linger and mind that, we lose the trail. Ain't really a place we oughta split up neither." It ain't all that kind, that much he knows, but they don't got time.

"Say a few words and we oughta git. They're with their fuzzy gods now." Or rott'n on the cold ground but- she seemed a faithful sort. No need to spit on that.

"He's right. Better to keep the others from sharing their fate, while we've still got the time."

Lingering for sentimentality's sake isn't going to serve anyone, isn't going to solve anything but add balm to a few consciences. His is clear. These men are beyond help, and rites are a luxury they can't afford.

The valkyrie frowned slightly, but nodded. It was difficult to remember to care more about the living than the dead. Nevertheless, disrupting the cycle of souls always did damage. She was still unclear as to how that cycle worked in Thedas, but the lingering spirits of the dead created dark places. Places that might one day be as much of a threat as any mortal could be.

"Upon our return, then."

"We'll get this sorted, then? We'll get them sorted." Out of respect for what they did or...what have you. Faith isn't something Mal holds to all that much, but it's useful for those what need it. Mal? Don't much need it, don't much understand it, but spitting on it just to spite people that ain't even here? Not his way.

"C'mon."

The shipment and refugees are missing, but it will not be difficult to follow the trail of the wagons and families. A ledger left along the trail will detail the shipment's contents (lyrium, fine metals, and a stock of swords) and note the names and ages of the members of the four refugee families who disappeared with the shipment. They consist of three human families from the Exalted Plains and one elven family from Halamshiral.

"Well. Shit." Not that he expected much else with how long they'd been miss'n and what all they'd seen earlier- but this don't spell much of anything good.

"Figure they took 'em as hostages?"

It's the only reason he could see for it, beyond maybe some menial forced labor. There are far more people detailed on that ledger than what they managed to find, and no sign of bodies along the way.

"It's the best option." Families. Full families of refugees seeking a better life amidst the chaos of this war, and this is what happens. Sometimes he feels a great deal of guilt about how high the price had been to give mages a chance.

Anders shakes his head, but the expression on his face is heavy. "Hostages tend to get better treatment as they're valuable. Long-term captives don't." At least he's not seen any small bodies. It's a tiny comfort.

"Aye."

They must've done, as far as he can tell. Otherwise he's certain there'd be more bodies than what they've already found. And while he knows there's a chance that there could still be bodies somewhere else, to him it's a sign that they've still got a chance to save some people - so long as they can get to them in time, anyway.

"If they've taken them for hostages, though, then we may stand a chance of getting them back. We've just got to figure out where they've been taken off to."

It's rare that Anders is chosen for a sneaking-in effort. Normally he's good at sneaking out. But he's the only one that's been learning how to pick locks, and Jamie's the best at getting into places, so the two of them are ahead of the rest of the group.

"We need..." Anything. He can't climb a wall, and obviously blowing a hole in one isn't an option here. Not that he'd suggested it. He has some self-control. Sometimes.

When Anders pipes up, Jamie is in a position that's become quite familiar over the past few years - his back pressed up against the nearest handy surface in a way that allows him to keep out of sight while still able to check out their surroundings. In this case, it's with the hopes that they'll find a way to get in without drawing attention, something that is currently proving to be a bit tricky at the moment.

"What we need is a distraction of some sort, but if we had that we could've gotten everyone in in one go. You're sure you can't get over yon wall over there if I give you a boost?"

Carefully he leans forward, taking a look at the indicated spot.

"...I might be able to." His robes get a frown as he leans back against the wall, then Anders is shrugging and hiking them up. He has leggings on underneath due to the cold, so no one's getting a bonus show today.

"The worst that happens is that I don't and wind up dropping back down should a patrol get too close. Let's give it a try."

Maybe it'll work, maybe it won't, but at least there's a chance, which is good enough as far as Jamie's concerned. While the robe is gotten out of the way, Jamie shifts slightly so he's no longer leaning forward and laces his fingers together before holding them low enough that a foot can be placed in them. Between that and having his shoulder braced against the wall hopefully that'll provide enough places to step that it'll make him a human step-ladder of sorts, If he adds in an extra little boost at the end, with luck that'll be enough to get Anders up and over - and possibly without even all that much of the leggings showing, to boot.

"Right, then. Ready when you are."

Would anyone ever really be ready to be hefted over a wall and into enemy territory? Anders thinks the answer is no unless you're qunari or Fenris or Oghren. He is none of those.

Despite that, he nods. "Here goes." He tries to be careful, climbing. Sure, he's walked all over people before, but he's never enjoyed it literally or metaphorically.

Once he's up top, he's quiet and still for a few moments, waiting for any sort of response. No one changes their patterns, no one makes a noise. He takes it to mean he hasn't been spotted, and Anders roots around for some rope up top before lowering it for Jamie. They can carefully head toward one of the doors with Jamie in the lead. Anders is not good at stealth on his own.

The rope is a welcome thing. While he's had to climb his share of things before - and in theory might have been able to scale it on his own if he'd found the right spots to pull himself up with - the rope is more than welcome, and he's able to scale the wall in short order. After that it's just a matter of stashing the rope somewhere so their way up isn't discovered and taking a few minutes to familiarize himself with those same patterns before cautiously starting across the courtyard, motioning for Anders to follow.

Once he's certain they won't be noticed, he picks up the pace, dashing over to a pile of split logs and ducking behind it before moving over so Anders can do the same. It's large enough that they both can fit and not be seen, but not so large that he can't poke his head up over the top of it and scan the area to see how far it is to their target. He's cautious about that as well, but once he's gotten a good look and ducked back down again he feels confident to talk, albeit in a whisper.

"Looks it's not too much further to that door we'd spotted earlier, but unless I miss my guess, I think we'll have to take the long way around to get to it. Too open, otherwise, unless there's something I'm missing. What do you think?"

He takes his time in answering, waiting and watching to see what he can of patrol patterns. After that Anders frowns and nods.

"Definitely the long route." It reminds him of trying to sneak his way out of the Circle - all of the watching and waiting and knowing how much pain would come if he slipped up. Only in this case they might well die if they made a mistake, and that's a little worse than Silence and Smiting.

"The crates to the left. Once the guard by the fire is on the other side of it. You first, I'll follow."

While there's a very real possibility that they could wind up dead if they wind up making a mistake, those crates should give them a fighting chance, and as he cranes his head to study their position, he feels the faint but familiar rush that comes along with the moment. It's not quite exhilaration, because he knows if he screws this up things could go badly - but there's a certain sense of excitement that comes along in moments like this, the ones where he has the chance to live on his wits, and something in him sharpens as his attention focuses on the guard, waiting for him to make his move.

The moment the guard gets around the fire and winds up turning his back on the crates, Jamie makes his move, darting across the small space that's between them and the crates and ducking behind the first of them so that he has some cover. He knows he can't stop there, however. Timing is everything here, and they both have to move, and move quickly, or risk the guard catching a glimpse when he circles back around. So he does the best he can, which is to get himself as close to the ground as he can while still moving as quickly as he can, using the crates to mask his movement.

If Anders can do the same, it should be enough to get them to the other end, where the crates have been stacked a bit higher - and in theory, it should get them to a point where they can reach the door without being seen. Unless, of course, there's some other surprise waiting for them there that he hasn't anticipated, but there's nothing he can do about that now apart from hope for the best.

Anders keeps moving behind Jamie, wondering how he keeps getting himself in similar situations over and over again. He could have gone to some small village, settled down, healed and protected, and been far away from all of this chaos. He could have adopted fifteen cats, too. Instead he's here, breaking into a camp and sneaking around guards.

He's really not very smart.

Anders reaches out to rest a hand on Jamie's shoulder for a moment once they're behind a few crates - two armed men are pausing, pulling out flasks of something and drinking before passing the things back and forth. They take their time as if nothing else is important, and Anders glares at them unseen. Of all times to be drinking... except the irritation isn't his. It's Jsutice's, and it's on behalf of those who are likely hostages.

He takes a breath slowly, waiting, clamping down on the irritation, and finally the men move on. And the others... they're still in acceptable positions, though not as good as they could be. Just several more meters, and he and Jamie will be free to unlock the door. And have backup.

He takes that hand on his shoulder as a warning of sorts, stopping where he is, going completely still and not daring to move a muscle - unless his tongue running slowly over his lower lip to moisten it while he waits counts. It's not hard to figure what they're doing, and while he's not quite as irritated as Anders is about the whole thing, there's a certain level of impatience on his end while he waits for them to go along their business.

When they do move on, he lets out a silent sigh of relief and starts up again. However, with those guards being in not ideal positions, he's extra cautious, and crossing those several meters seems to take a small eternity. But finally they get to the door, making it time for the last part of the plan - the part where Anders unlocks the door and he keeps an eye out for trouble. Before he gets started, though, his eyes drop for a moment to the ground below, looking for something he can use as a distraction if it's needed. There's some stones there, large enough that they could be thrown to make noise, but still small enough that it'll be hard to actually see them while they're in the air. He picks up one, hefting it experimentally in his hand before curling his fingers around it and leaning in to whisper to Anders, making sure to keep his voice quiet enough that it won't carry.

"Right, you're up. See what you can do about getting that door open, and I'll keep watch and distract them if need be."

He waits, patiently, watching Jamie while the man does... something. Anders trusts there's a reason for it and so he stays still and doesn't question. A rock? His brow furrows for a moment and then he gets it. Of course. It's good thinking, and Anders would say as much if they didn't need to be so quiet. Later.

For now he'll turn his attention to the lock on the door and the picks he's pulling out of his pocket. A silent prayer is offered up in case anyone is listening, but the odds of that are basically nil. No one has ever answered a single one of his prayers before. He is alone, they are all alone, and that is not a good train of thought for his focus.

Carefully he prods at the lock, finding the pieces, feeling where they give, and getting to work. The first tumbler clicks into place and he feels a wave of relief. He can do this. He's actually learned how to do this. The second gives easily and he starts to smile, but the third won't budge. His small smile fades as he prods at it again. Still stuck.

There's clear tension in his shoulders as he takes a slow breath in and out, working to not let frustration get him too out of it. He'll get the door open. One way or another.

Anders lets the first two drop again, restarting, and this time the third finally snaps into place. With a silent promise to never question Varric or Isabela's speed while waiting for locks to be opened again, he seeks out and undoes the fourth and fifth parts, and the lock turns with an audible click that has him stiffening and hoping no one beyond their party heard it.

At first, Jamie keeps his eyes on the guards, watching closely in order to make sure their attention doesn't drift over to the door. He's ready if they do, though, the stone still held loosely in his hand. All he needs to do is pull his arm back and let it fly - and once or twice it seems he's going to have to do just that. Those moments pass, though, and after each one he breathes a silent internal sigh of relief.

After a bit, however, he becomes aware of how long Anders is taking with the lock. Or, more accurately, how long it seems to be taking Anders to get the thing open, anyway. Granted, there's part of him that's aware that these things take time. He still remembers what it'd been like with Victoria and her hairpins, and how she'd had to fiddle with things to get them to go just -so- before everything would fall into place and the lock would spring open.

But patience has never really been his strong suit, and even though in reality it's only been maybe a few minutes, at best, it feels like it's taking forever for those tumblers to fall into place. His eyes wind up flicking back to Anders more than once, and he has to make himself keep still, rather than give into the urge to pace or twist at his own fingers or some other sort of the impatient movements he tends to fall into when he's forced to wait. Even with that, he can't quite stop himself from scraping his teeth over his lower lip, biting down on it as Anders starts the process all over again - or silently urging him on by mouthing the words "Come on" to himself a couple of times.

For all of that, he's still ready for some sort of action, and when the lock turns, he turns as well, throwing the stone in his hand with all his might, sending it sailing across the courtyard in the opposite direction of where they are. It hits the wall just where he wants it to, making an noise just loud enough that the guard that's the closest to them lifts his head and looks towards the wall, rather then behind him where the door is. Jamie doesn't hesitate, reaching for another stone with one hand and reaching out to grasp Anders's arm, holding onto it for a few seconds in order to try and get his attention, this time mouthing his words so Anders can see them.

"Get ready to get the door open."

Jamie's fidgeting isn't helping. Not that he can exactly blame the guy, there might be refugees suffering behind these walls, but seeing Jamie mouthing things... Well. He can't blame him, and at least Anders has something to work on.

The soaring rock has Anders almost reaching out to try to grasp it with magic until he gets what Jamie's doing, and then he stays still, looking at the younger man. Right. Covering for the noise and extra alertness. When the door opens, it won't just be even more noise, it'll be a change in the shadows, too.

Anders holds up a finger, gesturing for a moment and tapping on the door twice, quietly, to make sure the others are in position there. Once he gets a tap back, and Jamie is ready, he'll open the door and they'll take this mess on.

Once the door opens all bets are off anyway, as far as Jamie's concerned. Given the guards have already gotten a good look at their faces, he's guessing that there's going to be about a zero chance of avoiding a fight - which is fine with him. He's more than ready to take on the guards in the name of rescuing these refugees.

As he catches sight of the finger, however, he clamps his mouth shut again and returns to his position. From there it's only the matter of a few moments for him to unsheath his weapon and hold it at the ready, shifting position so that he'll be able to spring up from hiding at a moment's notice and join in once the fight starts. His eyes flick back to Anders, briefly, and he gives the other man a nod. He's good to go at any point now, and until the others get inside he'll be content to watch and wait for the chance to strike.

[[and moving down to the fight!]]

The sixteen Freemen and the two refugees who greeted them outside will all put up some manner of a fight, depending on how quickly they're alerted, whether it's still daylight or the team waits for nightfall, etc.

Hang'n back and wait'n ain't exactly Mal's idea of a good time. Too much can go wrong on the other side- but the Detlef fellow seems like the kinda guy that can keep quiet and get shit done if things went sideways before the door got opened up. Jaime could scrap, he ain't ever met someone from Starkhaven or sounded like it what couldn't.

Two knocks and Mal? Don't much wait for anything else before push'n the door open and giv'n Jayne a curt order. Hav'n the first man in the fight be a mabari makes for a quick start and a quick end, all told. Jayne hauls for the first guard quick as anything and Mal slips in afterward, putt'n himself between the mess and Anders. Mind the healer, first rule. Mind the mage, second rule. Mind yourself, well. Mind yourself if you can.

Anders is quick as soon as Mal is inside, casting barrier over all of their group. The short-lived faint green glow as it wrapped around them would have taken away the element of surprise before, but now the fight's engaged. He doesn't go full out just yet, though. Something needs to be held in reserve for injuries, and if they can take out the group right here without alerting the whole fortress, they'll stand a better chance.

It's earth he entombs his first target in, using the rock to smother any noise the Freeman might make. They attacked an Inquisition caravan and have possibly hurt children - there will be no quarter given tonight unless someone is particularly quick to surrender.

[Closed] Wartable: RESCUE WAYLAID INQUISITION CARAVAN

The approach

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Discovery

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Infiltration

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Fighting

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Aftermath