It was time.
Rilien checked once more on the bright orange brew simmering away on his fireplace, the flames carefully stoked to just the right level to keep it beneath a boil, but always on the precipice. When he was not able to tend it himself, Sandal did. He would trust nobody else with the precision required, but the last ingredient had to be acquired and added today. Just as wellāheād finally found the thing he sought yesterday, on a foray into Sundermont. The Dalish may be possessive of the mountain, but they did not seem inclined to stop him from whatever he was doing, as he never ventured near their camp. Of course, heād only allowed himself to be seen at all because there would be no hiding his companions today, and he did not desire to be held from his goal by their suspicion. Heād murder his way through them, if he absolutely had to, but it was not something he desired.
A week prior, heād sent exactly three messages, to the three people who would help him in this, to tell them to meet him at the gate to the city on this exact day, in precisely one half an hour from now. He had told them only that Sparrowās tincture was near on completion, and that the one ingredient he still required would have to be obtained through violent means. Rilien assumed that this would be enough to cause them to come prepared.
Sheathing his knives at his back, Rilien tied his elbow-blades to his waist, and reaffirmed that his bandolier was still full of restoratives. They were employing no mages on this venture; any healing would have to be his doing. Casting a citrine glance around the shop, he confirmed that everything was as he needed to leave it, nodded his farewell to Sandal, and slipped out the door, melding into the Hightown crowd without ever losing his distinctiveness. He arrived at the gate heād indicated exactly five minutes before heād asked the others to be there, and though his face did not betray anything other than the placid smoothness it usually consisted in, there was a certain rigidity to his musculature that was not usually present. This was it. The culmination of years of research and gathering, of greasing dirty palms and leaning on the most shining of knights, a polar contrast, but a balance he needed to strike to gain what he sought.
As with all the trouble he earned himself, it came back to her, but there was no mistaking that this also was a task of its own merit. What heād patched together from incomplete theories and the conjectures of people centuries-dead was something that one of them had quite managed, but the final piece, this last partāthis, he was confident in. He had no care for glory or reputation, but he knew what this would mean. A way to undo a possession. Something like that would not go without repercussions, though what they would be, even he could not fully predict.
He did not bother to present the illusion of relaxation, standing rigidly at his full height, arms crossed over his chest, and watched warily for the approach of the three figures he had summoned.
One of these messages found its way into Ashton's shop. Whoever delivered it was obviously a very skilled courier, or maybe he'd become rusty when he wasn't looking. It was most likely the former-- Ashton never got rusty. The delivery didn't even disturb Snuffy, and her nose and ears were ten times better than Ashton's own. It'd just suddenly... appeared on his counter one morning, with only his name on the envelope. The sender was bleedingly obvious, as there was only one person he knew who possessed such dry and utilitarian handwriting. The contents put a hard look in his eyes, and once he'd committed it to memory, burned it. He'd rather not have it fall into one of his customer's hands or even Lia's. The contents were between him and Ril.
On the day they were supposed to meet, Ashton spent the day preparing. He stuffed his quiver to bursting with an assortment of arrows, sharpened the machete he carried around with him, and tested his bow string once more. As the time drew near, he donned his fur and leathers and tied his hair off. He bid Lia to keep a close eye on the shop and instructed Snuffy to stay. He'd also asked them very nicely to try to not kill each other. Hell, if they did, then who would watch his shop while he was gone? He promised Snuffy that she could go next time.
He arrived shortly after Ril, who certainly didn't look very Ril-ish. To say that he was tense was putting it kindly, and Ashton found himself surprised. Rilien wasn't the kind he'd expected to ever be tense, Tranquil or no. Ashton rolled his shoulders as he approached, readjusting how his quiver hung from his shoulders. Life had been quiet for Ashton since Sophia's party, but that could not be said for the rest of his friends-- Rilien and Sparrow in particular. He's said nothing about it though, but he was there-- always there if he needed to be. He was done running, after all. All they needed to do was ask, and he'd meet them out in front of Kirkwall's gate, ready to go.
"So, this is it huh?" He said, standing alongside Rilien.
The Tranquil flicked a glance up at his friend, and nodded slowly. āYes. We succeed or fail by the success or failure of this hunt.ā It was why heād chosen not to go it aloneāthough he did not lack for assurance in his own skills, he wanted to leave nothing to chance. Simply-put, Lucien and Ashton were the first people that came to mind when heād considered who he might ask to help him. Lucien had stopped by to see him a few weeks prior and told him that Sophia was also interested in helping, and the elf was too much a pragmatist to decline the additional assistance. Any more people, though, and he would have considered their chances of failure increased for the presence of too many and not too few, so that was where his missives had ended. And Sparrow herselfā¦ she still couldnāt know. Not yet. There was no telling what that thing would do to interfere if he gave up the secret too soon.
It was finally that day, then. Neither the wording of Rilienās missive nor his precise script had given it away, but Lucien could not help but feel that this was incredibly important to his friend, more than heād ever let on. It wasnāt something heād ever bother him about, of course, but all the same, he would be glad when it was all done. He did not want for faith in his friends, in the end, and if Rilien thought it would work, it would work, meaning that the only trick was to get everything together. That was something the mercenary was more than willing to help with.
He left his work on refurbishing the barracks to his carpenters for the day, returning to his home to gather what little he needed. He understood that the group was to be small, but strong, and to this end, he chose to carry a few potions with him, in case anything went awry. No doubt Rilien had that well in-hand, but one never knew what could happen. If their party should end up separated for some reason, he wanted to make sure theyād live long enough to find each other again. Truthfully, he didnāt know what to expect, beyond a fight. The letter had been vague on the matter at best, and he could only assume his comrade would explain when all were present.
He reached the city gate to find the elf and his hunter friend already in discussion about the matter, and he contributed his own comment as a form of greeting. āThen weāll just have to succeed, wonāt we?ā Rilien inclined his head. That was true enough.
Of the four of them, Sophia was undoubtedly the least certain that this was a good idea. What she was sure about was that she wanted to help Sparrow, but she had very little experience with either magic or demons, so the way of assisting would have to be left to others. In this case, Rilien. She did not know what Lucien's Tranquil friend had to connect him with Sparrow, but if he was working to reverse possession, he was trying to accomplish something no one had ever done before. That was a long way to go for one person. What she knew of Tranquil argued that he simply wouldn't see the purpose in doing that, but then again, Rilien was no ordinary Tranquil. Still, there had been little done as of yet to build any amount of trust between them, so Sophia found herself slightly on edge when his missive was delivered to her.
Thankfully she was not required in the Keep on the day in question, and was able to depart armed and armored. This time she wore the sash Amalia had gifted her with tied around her waist, though she was quite certain now that she actually wore it there wouldn't be the faintest hint of poison to threaten her. Apart from this she was clad as always when expecting trouble, with leather, mail, plate, and Vesenia sheathed across her back. Upon arriving at the city gate it was Lucien she spotted first simply due to his greater height and size, and she locked on to him to find Ashton and Rilien as well, in the midst of a conversation. In all, she was comfortable with the group, and it was only the Tranquil she had yet to see in any kind of action.
"I trust when you tell us to come prepared for a fight that we won't be ambushing a supply caravan or something," she said upon coming to stand before the party. Evil wasn't washed out with more evil, of course, and while she wanted to help Sparrow, she wouldn't be willing to make others suffer for it needlessly. That said, she had a feeling Lucien wouldn't either, and that any doubts she had were unfounded.
The last member of their odd little party arrived, and presented Rilien with the opportunity to explain what he would not write, which he took. Gesturing them forward, he began to walk, taking them outside the bounds of Kirkwall and towards Sundermont. He would lead them all around rather than through the Encampment, of course; it was not lost on him that he was accompanied by only humans at this point, and that such would be unwelcome. āNo,ā he replied to Sophia, not the faintest hint of offense or irritation seeping into his tone, āwe will not. We seek the final ingredient for a tincture I am making, and for this, I have determined we need a perversion of the Fade, a creature of twisted magic.ā He paused for a moment, trying to find a way to explain it that would make sense to those unfamiliar with such lore.
āI presume that you are at least familiar with the concept of an Arcane Horror, the possessed corpse of a magister?ā He asked it with a faint questioning inflection, but as heād said all he really needed to about them, he continued anyway. If they hadnāt been familiar before, they were familiar enough now. āWhat we hunt is similar, but worse. A particularly-powerful variety of the same, because the corpse has been possessed by a greater Pride demon. An ancient thing, and one that preys on those unwary enough to cross its path. This is what we must destroy, and I have detected the presence of one in a cave on the western side of Sundermont.ā There was going to be a fair amount of climbing involved, but he at least was quite unconcerned about this.
He had found the cave he wanted, but he had not ventured in alone, not desiring that the being should know of his intent to kill it, lest it attempt to thwart him before he was ready for it. The temptation had been greatāit was as though something within the cave was calling to him, pulling at the part of him that could still sense magic at work. It would likely not leave any of them unaffected, but he had been quite sure in his decision not to bring any mages, as whatever it was could only be worse for those already connected to the Fade. It would still probably be trying for them, but as to the nature of the trial, he could only speculate. Rilien maintained his silence thereafter, that they might ask any questions they had as they threaded their way up the mountain.
Lucien had only one: āThis creature,ā he asked, not familiar enough with magic for the right words to present themselves immediately. āWhat should we expect of it, once weāve entered its domain?ā He didnāt sound particularly worried. Rather, his tone was one of tempered curiosity, as one might expect of someone trying to assess the conditions under which he would do battle. In truth, he wasnāt certain what he thought the answer was going to be, and that in and of itself was a trifle unnerving. Heād seen and faced many things, but not a creature the like of which his friend seemed to be describing. Sophia, as well, was curious of this. Considering how her last encounter with a demon had gone, a little knowledge beforehand of what to expect would be welcome. "And do you want us to kill it in any specific way? Too many arrows damage the hide after all," Ashton posited. Though, he wasn't too worried about its hide getting damaged.
Rilien was a while in the answer. The truth was, he didnāt know much about what to expect either. āItās magic,ā he replied tonelessly. āOld magic. And I believe it has resided in this location for some time. Expect the environment itself to be against you.ā Against all of them. He could offer nothing more specific than that. To him, it didnāt matter anyway. āIt need not be killed in any particular fashion. I need only its ashes.ā There was an oh-so-subtle emphasis on the last word, but whether this was an attempt to pun on the askerās name or a more violent sentiment was entirely unclear. "Heh. Easy then," Ashton said. Intended or not, he was going to take the pun as it came.
After that, the inquiries seemed exhausted, and that was truthfully likely because there wasnāt enough information to ask more. Rilien wasnāt exactly happy about that, but then he was never exactly happy about anything, so he didnāt let it bother him. They hiked for about another half-hour, some of the inclines quite steep, as he was avoiding the usual Dalish paths through this region, but eventually they came to it: a cave, close to the summit of Sundermont. Theyād passed an altar and an ancient burial ground on the way here, but there was no way of telling whether rather of these sites was connected to the presence of the creature here. Upon approach, the strange cloak of sensation settled over him again, pricking his skin with needle-like feelings ofā¦ something. Anticipation, maybe, but it also felt like memory. He stood very still for a long moment, peering into the depths, but they were inscrutable, and he was conscious of the others waiting for him to do something.
Shaking the feeling off with no physical movement, he glanced back over his shoulder. āBeā¦ cautious.ā He did not know quite why he spoke the words; it was not customary for him to deliver needless warnings, and at least two of the people here would know that quite well. All the same, he could not quite rid himself of a small doubtāsomehow, without word or true understanding, he knew that this was a place that he should not enter. It was perhaps fortunate that he did not allow himself to care about such trivial things as inclinations. If he were here for himself only, he might have turned away. But he was not, and this was not a choice, only a demand of his own making. He would heed it.
The others behind him, he entered the cave.
Rilien checked once more on the bright orange brew simmering away on his fireplace, the flames carefully stoked to just the right level to keep it beneath a boil, but always on the precipice. When he was not able to tend it himself, Sandal did. He would trust nobody else with the precision required, but the last ingredient had to be acquired and added today. Just as wellāheād finally found the thing he sought yesterday, on a foray into Sundermont. The Dalish may be possessive of the mountain, but they did not seem inclined to stop him from whatever he was doing, as he never ventured near their camp. Of course, heād only allowed himself to be seen at all because there would be no hiding his companions today, and he did not desire to be held from his goal by their suspicion. Heād murder his way through them, if he absolutely had to, but it was not something he desired.
A week prior, heād sent exactly three messages, to the three people who would help him in this, to tell them to meet him at the gate to the city on this exact day, in precisely one half an hour from now. He had told them only that Sparrowās tincture was near on completion, and that the one ingredient he still required would have to be obtained through violent means. Rilien assumed that this would be enough to cause them to come prepared.
Sheathing his knives at his back, Rilien tied his elbow-blades to his waist, and reaffirmed that his bandolier was still full of restoratives. They were employing no mages on this venture; any healing would have to be his doing. Casting a citrine glance around the shop, he confirmed that everything was as he needed to leave it, nodded his farewell to Sandal, and slipped out the door, melding into the Hightown crowd without ever losing his distinctiveness. He arrived at the gate heād indicated exactly five minutes before heād asked the others to be there, and though his face did not betray anything other than the placid smoothness it usually consisted in, there was a certain rigidity to his musculature that was not usually present. This was it. The culmination of years of research and gathering, of greasing dirty palms and leaning on the most shining of knights, a polar contrast, but a balance he needed to strike to gain what he sought.
As with all the trouble he earned himself, it came back to her, but there was no mistaking that this also was a task of its own merit. What heād patched together from incomplete theories and the conjectures of people centuries-dead was something that one of them had quite managed, but the final piece, this last partāthis, he was confident in. He had no care for glory or reputation, but he knew what this would mean. A way to undo a possession. Something like that would not go without repercussions, though what they would be, even he could not fully predict.
He did not bother to present the illusion of relaxation, standing rigidly at his full height, arms crossed over his chest, and watched warily for the approach of the three figures he had summoned.
One of these messages found its way into Ashton's shop. Whoever delivered it was obviously a very skilled courier, or maybe he'd become rusty when he wasn't looking. It was most likely the former-- Ashton never got rusty. The delivery didn't even disturb Snuffy, and her nose and ears were ten times better than Ashton's own. It'd just suddenly... appeared on his counter one morning, with only his name on the envelope. The sender was bleedingly obvious, as there was only one person he knew who possessed such dry and utilitarian handwriting. The contents put a hard look in his eyes, and once he'd committed it to memory, burned it. He'd rather not have it fall into one of his customer's hands or even Lia's. The contents were between him and Ril.
On the day they were supposed to meet, Ashton spent the day preparing. He stuffed his quiver to bursting with an assortment of arrows, sharpened the machete he carried around with him, and tested his bow string once more. As the time drew near, he donned his fur and leathers and tied his hair off. He bid Lia to keep a close eye on the shop and instructed Snuffy to stay. He'd also asked them very nicely to try to not kill each other. Hell, if they did, then who would watch his shop while he was gone? He promised Snuffy that she could go next time.
He arrived shortly after Ril, who certainly didn't look very Ril-ish. To say that he was tense was putting it kindly, and Ashton found himself surprised. Rilien wasn't the kind he'd expected to ever be tense, Tranquil or no. Ashton rolled his shoulders as he approached, readjusting how his quiver hung from his shoulders. Life had been quiet for Ashton since Sophia's party, but that could not be said for the rest of his friends-- Rilien and Sparrow in particular. He's said nothing about it though, but he was there-- always there if he needed to be. He was done running, after all. All they needed to do was ask, and he'd meet them out in front of Kirkwall's gate, ready to go.
"So, this is it huh?" He said, standing alongside Rilien.
The Tranquil flicked a glance up at his friend, and nodded slowly. āYes. We succeed or fail by the success or failure of this hunt.ā It was why heād chosen not to go it aloneāthough he did not lack for assurance in his own skills, he wanted to leave nothing to chance. Simply-put, Lucien and Ashton were the first people that came to mind when heād considered who he might ask to help him. Lucien had stopped by to see him a few weeks prior and told him that Sophia was also interested in helping, and the elf was too much a pragmatist to decline the additional assistance. Any more people, though, and he would have considered their chances of failure increased for the presence of too many and not too few, so that was where his missives had ended. And Sparrow herselfā¦ she still couldnāt know. Not yet. There was no telling what that thing would do to interfere if he gave up the secret too soon.
It was finally that day, then. Neither the wording of Rilienās missive nor his precise script had given it away, but Lucien could not help but feel that this was incredibly important to his friend, more than heād ever let on. It wasnāt something heād ever bother him about, of course, but all the same, he would be glad when it was all done. He did not want for faith in his friends, in the end, and if Rilien thought it would work, it would work, meaning that the only trick was to get everything together. That was something the mercenary was more than willing to help with.
He left his work on refurbishing the barracks to his carpenters for the day, returning to his home to gather what little he needed. He understood that the group was to be small, but strong, and to this end, he chose to carry a few potions with him, in case anything went awry. No doubt Rilien had that well in-hand, but one never knew what could happen. If their party should end up separated for some reason, he wanted to make sure theyād live long enough to find each other again. Truthfully, he didnāt know what to expect, beyond a fight. The letter had been vague on the matter at best, and he could only assume his comrade would explain when all were present.
He reached the city gate to find the elf and his hunter friend already in discussion about the matter, and he contributed his own comment as a form of greeting. āThen weāll just have to succeed, wonāt we?ā Rilien inclined his head. That was true enough.
Of the four of them, Sophia was undoubtedly the least certain that this was a good idea. What she was sure about was that she wanted to help Sparrow, but she had very little experience with either magic or demons, so the way of assisting would have to be left to others. In this case, Rilien. She did not know what Lucien's Tranquil friend had to connect him with Sparrow, but if he was working to reverse possession, he was trying to accomplish something no one had ever done before. That was a long way to go for one person. What she knew of Tranquil argued that he simply wouldn't see the purpose in doing that, but then again, Rilien was no ordinary Tranquil. Still, there had been little done as of yet to build any amount of trust between them, so Sophia found herself slightly on edge when his missive was delivered to her.
Thankfully she was not required in the Keep on the day in question, and was able to depart armed and armored. This time she wore the sash Amalia had gifted her with tied around her waist, though she was quite certain now that she actually wore it there wouldn't be the faintest hint of poison to threaten her. Apart from this she was clad as always when expecting trouble, with leather, mail, plate, and Vesenia sheathed across her back. Upon arriving at the city gate it was Lucien she spotted first simply due to his greater height and size, and she locked on to him to find Ashton and Rilien as well, in the midst of a conversation. In all, she was comfortable with the group, and it was only the Tranquil she had yet to see in any kind of action.
"I trust when you tell us to come prepared for a fight that we won't be ambushing a supply caravan or something," she said upon coming to stand before the party. Evil wasn't washed out with more evil, of course, and while she wanted to help Sparrow, she wouldn't be willing to make others suffer for it needlessly. That said, she had a feeling Lucien wouldn't either, and that any doubts she had were unfounded.
The last member of their odd little party arrived, and presented Rilien with the opportunity to explain what he would not write, which he took. Gesturing them forward, he began to walk, taking them outside the bounds of Kirkwall and towards Sundermont. He would lead them all around rather than through the Encampment, of course; it was not lost on him that he was accompanied by only humans at this point, and that such would be unwelcome. āNo,ā he replied to Sophia, not the faintest hint of offense or irritation seeping into his tone, āwe will not. We seek the final ingredient for a tincture I am making, and for this, I have determined we need a perversion of the Fade, a creature of twisted magic.ā He paused for a moment, trying to find a way to explain it that would make sense to those unfamiliar with such lore.
āI presume that you are at least familiar with the concept of an Arcane Horror, the possessed corpse of a magister?ā He asked it with a faint questioning inflection, but as heād said all he really needed to about them, he continued anyway. If they hadnāt been familiar before, they were familiar enough now. āWhat we hunt is similar, but worse. A particularly-powerful variety of the same, because the corpse has been possessed by a greater Pride demon. An ancient thing, and one that preys on those unwary enough to cross its path. This is what we must destroy, and I have detected the presence of one in a cave on the western side of Sundermont.ā There was going to be a fair amount of climbing involved, but he at least was quite unconcerned about this.
He had found the cave he wanted, but he had not ventured in alone, not desiring that the being should know of his intent to kill it, lest it attempt to thwart him before he was ready for it. The temptation had been greatāit was as though something within the cave was calling to him, pulling at the part of him that could still sense magic at work. It would likely not leave any of them unaffected, but he had been quite sure in his decision not to bring any mages, as whatever it was could only be worse for those already connected to the Fade. It would still probably be trying for them, but as to the nature of the trial, he could only speculate. Rilien maintained his silence thereafter, that they might ask any questions they had as they threaded their way up the mountain.
Lucien had only one: āThis creature,ā he asked, not familiar enough with magic for the right words to present themselves immediately. āWhat should we expect of it, once weāve entered its domain?ā He didnāt sound particularly worried. Rather, his tone was one of tempered curiosity, as one might expect of someone trying to assess the conditions under which he would do battle. In truth, he wasnāt certain what he thought the answer was going to be, and that in and of itself was a trifle unnerving. Heād seen and faced many things, but not a creature the like of which his friend seemed to be describing. Sophia, as well, was curious of this. Considering how her last encounter with a demon had gone, a little knowledge beforehand of what to expect would be welcome. "And do you want us to kill it in any specific way? Too many arrows damage the hide after all," Ashton posited. Though, he wasn't too worried about its hide getting damaged.
Rilien was a while in the answer. The truth was, he didnāt know much about what to expect either. āItās magic,ā he replied tonelessly. āOld magic. And I believe it has resided in this location for some time. Expect the environment itself to be against you.ā Against all of them. He could offer nothing more specific than that. To him, it didnāt matter anyway. āIt need not be killed in any particular fashion. I need only its ashes.ā There was an oh-so-subtle emphasis on the last word, but whether this was an attempt to pun on the askerās name or a more violent sentiment was entirely unclear. "Heh. Easy then," Ashton said. Intended or not, he was going to take the pun as it came.
After that, the inquiries seemed exhausted, and that was truthfully likely because there wasnāt enough information to ask more. Rilien wasnāt exactly happy about that, but then he was never exactly happy about anything, so he didnāt let it bother him. They hiked for about another half-hour, some of the inclines quite steep, as he was avoiding the usual Dalish paths through this region, but eventually they came to it: a cave, close to the summit of Sundermont. Theyād passed an altar and an ancient burial ground on the way here, but there was no way of telling whether rather of these sites was connected to the presence of the creature here. Upon approach, the strange cloak of sensation settled over him again, pricking his skin with needle-like feelings ofā¦ something. Anticipation, maybe, but it also felt like memory. He stood very still for a long moment, peering into the depths, but they were inscrutable, and he was conscious of the others waiting for him to do something.
Shaking the feeling off with no physical movement, he glanced back over his shoulder. āBeā¦ cautious.ā He did not know quite why he spoke the words; it was not customary for him to deliver needless warnings, and at least two of the people here would know that quite well. All the same, he could not quite rid himself of a small doubtāsomehow, without word or true understanding, he knew that this was a place that he should not enter. It was perhaps fortunate that he did not allow himself to care about such trivial things as inclinations. If he were here for himself only, he might have turned away. But he was not, and this was not a choice, only a demand of his own making. He would heed it.
The others behind him, he entered the cave.