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[personal profile] da3pt5mod posting in [community profile] da3pt5
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: 2015-06-15 09:45 pm (UTC)
sephet: (Default)
From: [personal profile] sephet
"Well fuck me sideways!" Her ears are ringing from the clatter of the door, now there's more blood, violence, her chain gang seems pinned and injured and... she doesn't even know anymore. "Okay, new plan. Slower more talked out plans. Also I think we need a medic. Many medics. Fuck."

Date: 2015-06-17 05:46 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] qalaba
Qalaba lets out a breath, "That... could have gone better." They squint around the room, the glowing globe in the other room giving off enough light to see slightly better, but not much. "Is everyone alright?" They were fine of course, but that doesn't mean they couldn't think of the others around them.

Branwen

Date: 2015-06-21 06:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] phoenixofborg.livejournal.com
Branwen scrambles back to her feet from where she'd thrown herself against the wall. She rolls one shoulder, then the other, then her neck, as though resettling her rattled bones. Then she takes a few quick steps forward and back along the side of the fallen door, too limited by the cramped space and the remains of their shackles to properly be called pacing but agitation obvious in her movements.

"M'fine. I dunno what you lot know about medicine, but we've got a proper healer smashed under the door." She sounds more exasperated than distraught, truly, but there's a wildness in the way she moves her hands, first to dismiss Qalaba's query on her own behalf, then to indicate Edan.

She crouches by where the other mage is pinned, fluttering their fingers over the edge of the door without actually making a move to lift it. Knife's curses at least mark them as conscious, but Edan's pretty well under the thing. With the two at opposite corners as they are, Branwen suspects a careless attempt to free one of them might put more pressure on the other.

"They're right though," and now she indicates Gerta with a flick of her not-quite-flailing hands (because they've not really had time to exchange proper introductions, and while Branwen has never met a dwarf before she suspects singling Gerta out as 'the dwarf' might be more than passing rude). "I mean, yeah, let's get this thing up and off soonest, but a bit less with the rushing maybe?"

Date: 2015-06-21 11:10 pm (UTC)
goldengirlaurelia: (Default)
From: [personal profile] goldengirlaurelia
Aurelia gets to her feet and looks around at the others in the room. At worst, she was just a bit bruised, but she could see that some of the others had fared worse. She then turns her attention to the golem.

"Thank you for your help. Although, a bit more warning would have been nice, Ser . . . what's your name?"

Date: 2015-06-21 11:28 pm (UTC)
sergolem: (Default)
From: [personal profile] sergolem
Adventure does his best to bend his steel frame into a graceful bow.

"MY NAME IS BUT THE FIRST OF MANY FAVORS I CAN OFFER YOU, MY LADY. WHICH IS TO SAY, MY NAME, OF COURSE, IS. ER."

Shit. Names. My hosts have usually come with those until now. THINK, Adventure! Something plausible! What would a golem be called? She's starting to look at me funny. A name shouldn't take this long. Just out with it already!

"....GOLEM! SER GOLEM. YOU MAY CALL ME... SER GOLEM. YES. THAT IS ABSOLUTELY MY NAME."

Yes. Nailed it. Nice.

Date: 2015-06-22 08:38 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] nevarranknife
Unable to contain their frustration any longer, Knife finally let go of the loud exasperated growl they had been trying to repress.

“Stanje! To the void with all of you!” they exclaimed ,

These people were useless! Instead of doing something, they seemed to be content standing around discussing the matter like they were in some village committee discussing the weather. Their captors were sure to have heard the din that this golem was making. After all, if Knife could hear “ Ser Golems” voice clear as day , then there was a good chance their captors could. Yet, instead of collecting themselves, they were wasting time. Though they had to admit at least Branwen seemed to be trying something.
Glancing across the way the elf glanced at the unconscious mage who lay pinned across from them. The mage’s safety would be a priority, injured or not if they wanted to get out of this, they would need a healer. Perhaps if they could lift the door enough for Knife to scoot out and for someone to pull Edan free? But if they could barely lift the door them self, it was doubtful that the female mage nearest to them would be able to help. But the Golem…or Qunari?

“Golem! I honestly couldn’t care less what you call yourself. You could be called Andrastes Flaming knickers for all I care. Now can someone help lift the door off of us”

Knife paused for one moment, perhaps asking the Golem to lift the door would not be a wise choice, but would any of the others have the strength? They were running out of options and needed to get mobile, and find their weapons as quickly as possible.

Date: 2015-06-22 08:50 pm (UTC)
sephet: (Default)
From: [personal profile] sephet
"Hold it!" She's not in with miners much more than drinking buddies and bedmates, but she's heard enough stories to feel a little knowledgeable. "'fore we start liftin' things about, how 'bout we check make sure moving the door won't make someone bleed out, or take a leg with it. I can't see very well and my medical know-how's pretty shit but trust a Dwarf on a cave-in problem, eh?"

Date: 2015-06-22 09:03 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] qalaba
Qalaba jumps and looks down to wear the door landed. There were people stuck there, "Oh shit."

They rush over and kneel to assist the two, but looks over when the loud dwarf speaks. "Pretty sure they," Qalaba jerks a thumb over their should to point at Branwen, "Just said that the person under the door is a healer, so wouldn't it be better to get the door off the one who can heal so they could... I don't know, heal?"

Shaking their head, Qalaba goes to lift the door anyway. They grab the sides of the door tightly before standing, taking the door with them. They turn away from the others and drop the door to the ground. "Foot check!" The door drops to the floor without incident.
Edited Date: 2015-06-22 09:04 pm (UTC)

Date: 2015-06-22 09:55 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] edan
Edan sits up, wincing at the shooting pain in their arm. Broken, they recognize quickly -- they've had enough broken bones in their life to know by now what one feels like.

They make a mental note to be much more specific in the future when asking for help from a golem.

But it could be worse, they think. Nothing is on fire -- that's always a plus.

They hesitate for a moment, wondering if it's safe to reveal their magic, before remembering that they'd already practically flaunted the fact that they're a mage when they conjured fire earlier. A stupid move, possibly, but what's done is done -- at this point, all they can do is hope they won't come to regret it.

They rest their right hand on their left arm and it glows with the soft light of creation magic. Thankfully, they feel the injury begin to mend -- their mind is still a bit too foggy for the more intense focus that spirit healing would require. As the light subsides, they flex their arm and roll their shoulder, testing for further signs of injury. Finding none, they glance around at the rest of their company.

"Does anyone need healing?"
Edited Date: 2015-06-22 09:57 pm (UTC)

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