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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 08:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] phoenixofborg.livejournal.com
Branwen awakes to the sound and smell of too many people in too small a space, still air and stone walls, and for a moment she is back in Circle dormitories, before wakefulness brings sense and memory with it. Not enough, perhaps, because her first action is to roll over and reach for the bow that should beside her, before shackles and deep ache in her left arm stop the motion.

Resettling on her back, she inhales deeply, taking stock. Five other people in the room with her. Only the haziest memory how she got here, without the headache that would explain that level of vagueness. No idea where her horse and weapon had got to. She recalls indignant whinnying when she'd been attacked, but couldn't say whether Brute had been taken by her captors or killed -- she knows he wouldn't have ran. Branwen hopes her surly stupid horse hasn't been turned into dogmeat for kicking some thug's head in.

She sits, drawing up her feet so she can loop the chain between her manacles around her feet. Pushing out with her legs and pulling back with her arms, she exerts all the force she can muster on the restraints, but the links are solid enough work and fail to part. She does not truly expect them to; her fellow captives range from much larger to much smaller than her, and it seems unlikely they'd have shackles to fit all of them and then skimp on the chains themselves. She eyes the door. It's out of her reach unless she climbs over her new companions, but it looks similarly disinclined to give way to a good kick. The slit was promising. You could do a lot with rats -- clever, dexterous creatures no one looked too askance at. She could do more with rats if she'd been tied with rope, but she'll take what luck she can get.

Having exhausted the short list of things she could do herself at this moment, Branwen gives the person nearest her a gentle nudge with her elbow.


Date: 2015-06-03 02:56 pm (UTC)
sephet: (Default)
From: [personal profile] sephet
Gerta curses a spectacular line of vulgarities as she's nudged awake. It's not like headaches and waking in strange places was the most unusual thing, she's even woken with handcuffs before. Those handcuffs had been made for a Dwarf though, and were not too short and too tight. She felt a little like she was being stretched over a rack.

"What nug-humping piss-eating puss spewing son of a shitlord--" She growled as she tried to turn to who had woken her. The bite of her words trailed off when she realised she wasn't the only one in cuffs. "Shit. Hi?"


Date: 2015-06-03 07:28 pm (UTC)
goldengirlaurelia: (Default)
From: [personal profile] goldengirlaurelia
Aurelia awoke to the sound of someone cursing. Rather colorfully. She tried to reach for her sword, her quarterstaff, hell, even a rock to defend herself with, only to find that she was cuffed.

She tried to turn to the person who had spoken, an apologetic grin already forming on her face. "Hi?" Internally, she was yelling at herself, telling herself it was foolish to try and grin her way out of a situation. But then, it had sort of worked before, hadn't it?


Date: 2015-06-03 07:57 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] qalaba
Qalaba blinks groggily, "What the-?" As they attempt to rub the bump forming on their head they realize they're in chains. They look around and see the predicament they're in. "Well, this is a new one."

Testing the strength of the chains, they didn't want to give with brute force, but perhaps if they had something that they could use to pry at least one link open...

"Anyone got a steel bar?"
Edited Date: 2015-06-03 09:17 pm (UTC)


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