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It's been chaos in Ferelden for months now. The mage/templar war was only the start of it all, sending refugees spilling out into the wild, easy picking for bandits and overzealous templars. And now the sky itself has begun to tear, unleashing all manner of spirits and demons on the vulnerable masses.

Some say it's the end of the world. Perhaps they're right.

There's word of a group that can help. The Inquisition, a controversial rival organization to the Chantry, to hear some tell it, led by the supposed Herald of Andraste, rumored to be able to seal the rifts. But whether or not the Inquisition is all it claims to be, they are currently far, far away from Southern Ferelden.

The Tevinters, unfortunately, are not. You may have heard the rumors about the events at Redcliffe, strange whispers of the fates of the rebel mages holed up within. The Tevinters are supposed to have been driven out of Redcliffe. Unfortunately, some, at least, came here.

Some seem to have kept to themselves, holed up in strange, ancient ruins in the outskirts of the Wilds. Whatever they're doing, it can't be good. But at least they're not as bad as the slavers.

You're not really sure when they grabbed you. You must have fought, certainly, but sitting here all you can remember is vague flashes of color and light, and then silence.

The cell you wake up in is dark and cramped, and you can feel the press of others around you. There must be at least six of you in here, manacled together. A heavy locked door lies in one of the walls, a small slit below it open just enough to peer through if you'd like.

Date: 2015-06-03 10:11 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] nevarranknife
Knife roused slowly into wakefulness, by the jostling of other nearby bodies. Having been lain on their right hand side, the elf could neither make out the sounds or the request made by their current companions. Pressed in against a wall by a much larger body, and unable to move, Knife instead became very quickly aware of the press of cold iron at their wrists and ankles. A dull sensation that this had not been the first time they had been in this situation washed over them with some dull long forgotten familiarity. A familiarly, which brought the smallest amount of fear. Rankling the chains in frustration, a disgruntled grumble slipping through their lips along with a Nevarran curse.

Even with their hands in front of them, and the chains clear for them to see they could not percieve a single weakness in the chains, or even if these chains were even made of iron! A voice which sounded decidedly like the Old Gelter (the Smith), chagrined them for not paying more attention to his lessons about chain smithing.

Unable to do much else, they instead elbowed the large body behind them, in some attempt to make some space. Because Maker dammit, if they were stuck like this then they were at least going to make themselves comfortable.
Edited Date: 2015-06-03 10:13 pm (UTC)

Date: 2015-06-03 10:36 pm (UTC)
sergolem: (Default)
From: [personal profile] sergolem
"WELL THIS IS NEW," Adventure said aloud, voice echoing into the room. "IS THIS WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE BOUND? I DIDN'T THINK IT WOULD FEEL QUITE THIS... HEAVY."

He looked around the room, his neck making a metal sound as it moved. This was no ordinary binding - if it was, the spirits he's spoken with were clearly leaving parts out.

He was taller than usual. A lot taller. Could he finally be attached to a Qunari? It's not an experience he was ready for just yet- but at least it would explain this sense of bulk and restriction.

Then, he looked down at himself. Shining metal arms. A powerful, literally sculpted chest. And then it dawned on him. It was an impossible idea, but there it was.

"XEBENKECK'S TITS... I'M A BLIGHTED GOLEM!"

He laughed loud, and hard.

"THIS IS INCREDIBLE! IF I KNEW I COULD DO THIS, I WOULD HAVE DONE IT AGES AGO! NO MORE STARTING OVER! NOW... LET ME JUST-"

Adventure attempted to move his legs.

"HOLD ON-"

His knee and ankle joints might as well have been decorative.

"OH, BUGGER."
Edited Date: 2015-06-03 10:42 pm (UTC)

Date: 2015-06-03 11:57 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] edan
Edan wakes with a start at the sound of the others’ voices echoing in the cramped cell, but they can’t make out the words or even distinguish how many different voices have spoken -- everything blends together into one garbled noise. They shake their head in an attempt to dispel the brainfog and ground themself in the present, but they regret it the moment the reality of the situation starts to sink in: the weight of the manacles, the uncomfortable press of bodies on either side of them, and the walls, so close together, close, closing in --

A heaviness settles in their chest and they struggle for breath, but the darkness is suffocating and they can’t seem to fill their lungs. The urge to flee hits them a moment later -- to where and to what end, they have no idea, they haven’t thought that far ahead. Without thinking, they stand and throw their weight forward, ready to break into a sprint, but the manacles hold them back and they lose their balance, pitching forward onto the ground with a startled yelp.

Graceful, they think to themself with a groan. Very graceful.

Branwen

Date: 2015-06-04 12:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] phoenixofborg.livejournal.com
She listened as her cellmates awoke with varying degrees of noise and temper. Branwen couldn't make out much of them beyond a broad range of sizes and accents, but they definitely weren't all human.

"You really think they would have left us --" she was saying to the qunari who'd asked about a prybar when a great bellow came from beyond the door. Branwen stared across the room, silent for a long moment. The words had been perfectly audible, yet remained totally incomprehensible. She knew a golem was a sort of magically animated statue, but that shed little to no light on the rest of it.

"Well," she said dryly. "That didn't sound like a guard."

Gerta

Date: 2015-06-04 05:13 am (UTC)
sephet: (Default)
From: [personal profile] sephet
"I've heard a few guards make noises like that, but naw, sounds like we're fucked." She grunts, trying to pull herself at least to a seated position, instead of prone on the ground. "Unless someone's got a key, or pics and better reach than I've got. Which I'm guessin'.... we're just in deep shit."
Edited Date: 2015-06-04 05:17 am (UTC)

Aurelia

Date: 2015-06-04 05:59 pm (UTC)
goldengirlaurelia: (Default)
From: [personal profile] goldengirlaurelia
Aurelia casts a glance around, taking in their surroundings. Upon realizing that it wasn't terribly likely that they were going anywhere for the time being, she decided to ask questions instead. "Does anyone know what happened?"

Qalaba

Date: 2015-06-04 08:11 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] qalaba
Qalaba squints trying to see their fellow captives. "I don't know, but it feels like I got trampled on by a herd of bronto." They give up trying to make out more than silhouettes as they shuffle to the side to make room for the person elbowing them. "Sorry." They apologize.

Shaking the chains, they try to think of a way to break them open. "Maybe..." Qalaba lifts the chain and lowers their head to stick a horn in one of the links. They yank as hard as they can on the chain from either side to try to force the link open, it gives a little, but doesn't break. "Damn."

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