Nostariel released a deep breath, letting the magic at her fingertips dim, and then fade entirely. Ashtonâs injuries had been extensive, and sheâd been at healing him for the better part of the last few hours. The immediate trauma had been set last night, but it was going to require far more than immediate triage, which had been the endeavor of the afternoon, after sheâd closed the clinic to everyone else. Lia was present, too, perhaps at present for lack of anywhere else to go, as Nostariel had taken care of her ankle fracture and the bruising to her face and neck already. Neither of them looked like theyâd slept much, and truth be told, neither had the Warden. She, however, was exercising the healerâs capacity to compartmentalize, refusing to think overmuch about why she was currently not treating Ithilian, or indeed what had happened to the other two to cause the injuries theyâd sustained.
It was better for now that she reach no conclusions about any of it. Not until things were certain. There was simply no way of knowing, but she was willing to bet that if anyone could find out, it would be Amalia. Letting her hand rest between Ashâs shoulderblades for a moment, she gave him a thin smile. "Thatâs the best I can do, for today.â It went without saying that the damage would take another day at least to repair completely, and even then, he would need to rest. Even so, he was alive, and considering what could have happened, she was⊠relieved couldnât begin to cover it.
Sinking down into a wooden chair, Nostariel reached behind her to the counter and took up a mana restorative, not a substitute for natural rest, but something she desperately needed at the moment, considering the rate at which sheâd been burning through her magic. Holding her breath against the pungent smell and taste of it, she knocked the vial back with the ease of someone whoâd once taken in other substances in a similar fashion, then set the empty flask on the arm of the chair, moving her eyes to the young woman seated at her table.
"Lia⊠Iâm sorry to make you think about it, but I have to ask: what happened?â She had no idea how the girl had been arrested in the first place, but if it were possible that the guards knew who she was and would come seeking her, then theyâd need to find some way to hide her before long.
Lia had mostly been staring blankly at the wall since she arrived at Nostariel's clinic, saying very little, typically only speaking when spoken to. She had wrapped herself in a blanket some time ago, after changing into a new set of clothes and washing her face. Her eyes were red, both from crying and general tiredness. She jumped slightly at the mention of her name, clearly lost in some amount of thought. Blinking rapidly in response to the question, she cleared her throat.
"I was... coming home after leaving Ashton's shop. I didn't get far before I noticed some shemlen that were following me." She spoke the word with a certain amount of disdain, the way Ithilian used to, much more often. "I... remember running. Somehow one of them got in front of me, made me turn down an alley. I ended up in a dead end. A city guard followed me in, and I asked him to help me. He hit me instead. I fell down... then the others were there. One of them got on top of me. The city guard stood there and watched." She swallowed thickly.
"They didn't see the knife in my boot. I killed the one on top of me, shoved it in his throat. I jumped on the second one, stabbed him a couple times in the chest. I... think he died. I don't know for sure. The other two, the guard and the other guy, they hit me from behind after that. I blacked out... then I woke up in the cell." She didn't make a great deal of eye contact throughout the retelling, staring mostly down towards the floor. "I had to kill them."
Nostarielâs throat went dry. Sheâd been afraid, so afraid⊠it was a threat she understood, though sheâd been more worried about what would happen in the actual prison cell than what had happened to land her there. Apparently this was a mistake. Her hand closed over the empty vessel at the end of the chair-arm, and she squeezed unconsciously, or it was unconscious until the sound of cracking reached her ears. Blinking slowly, she looked down at it, now frosted over and sporting a few hairline fractures. Deliberately drawing in a breath, she forced her grip to relax, standing up from the chair and moving so that she was crouching in front of Lia, placing a gentle hand on the girlâs knee.
There had been a few cases of things like this in the Circle, and the girls there frequently felt comfortable talking to nobody but each other about it, because it was notoriously difficult to bring such allegations against a Templar. Command structure tended to assume that the accuser was simply trying to avoid proper oversight, or seeking petty vengeance for some much smaller perceived slight. It was not the first time, therefore, that Nostariel had heard a tale of the kind, though they grew no easier. In her experience, there was very little that could be said, and in the Circle, sheâd been powerless to do much of anything, either.
Not quite so now. "I wish I could undo everything that happened.â And she did; there was no doubting it from her tone of voice. Such a thingâthere was very little that Nostariel considered unforgiveable, but such an act certainly qualified. "I cannot, but what I can do is promise you something. As soon as the Viscountâs office is open again, I will go up there myself. I will make sure that what happened to you cannot be ignored. The ones who hurt you who live yet and the ones who jailed you for protecting what is only yours will face punishment for that. And if the Viscount cannot help me, I will conscript them all and let the Darkspawn have them.â It wasnât enough; it couldnât be. But it was much better than the nothing that would have been the case if things were allowed to proceed as they usually would.
"In the meantime⊠if there is anything you need that I can do, you have only to ask me, Lia.â
A thump drew attention to Ashton, now recoiling in pain from the arm of the chair he had just punched. While they had stopped bleeding, the palms of his hands were still tender, and the simple act of closing his fist sent a needle of pain through the hand-- much less punching something. Still, the anger in his eyes burned bright. Though with a sigh, that anger muffled and died down into a smouldering thing. "I... I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head in his hand. He was still shirtless from Nostariel's healing, his body still nursing the evidence of the night before. Purple bruises peeked out from behind a white bandage where his ribs were cracked and his right cheek was cut, along with a black eye where his face had struck the ground on their plummet.
"It shouldn't have happened outside my shop. You should've been safe there," He said, sounding resigned. He was sorry for a lot of things, not only that. But there was nothing he could do but wish everything had been otherwise. He felt... He felt powerless, to put it bluntly. And it wasn't a recent feeling neither. Where he had found some sort of stability, the city had not and he could tell. Nodding along with what Nostariel said, "She won't be alone. Not only will they be punished, but I'll see to it that it never happens again..." The words he spoke was earnest, but he knew they meant little. Maybe even less than that. What could he do? He was just a simple shopkeep in Lowtown. There wasn't much he could do. It was an empty comfort, and it hurt to know it.
"And me. Anything you need, anything at all," That was perhaps something he could deliver.
It was at this point that Amalia entered the clinic, not bothering to knock. Sheâd been in search of information all day, and around noon, the rumor she was hoping for had finally started spreading in Lowtown. Hoping for, because it meant there was a chance he yet lived. Catching sight of the other three, she read something disquieting in their body language, but refused to even begin to consider why. Everything else was secondary to her concern now, and that was simply how it had to be until things were resolved. She crossed her arms over her armored chest, not even sparing the time to find somewhere to sit or lean before she spoke. âSundown. Thereâs to be a public execution in the Hightown Market. Several people.â There was no way of knowing whether or not Ithilian was one of those people, but it was a chance she would simply have to take. It seemed likely enough, considering the circumstances.
If he wasnât there, well⊠the Gallows would simply have to endure its second massive breach of security in as many days. But that was something to consider later, not now. Not when they had a very different plan to formulate. Whether the others intended to come or not, she was going to be present at that execution. And if Ithilian was among those to hang, she was going to stop it, or die trying.
âAre we planning for a team of three, or one?â
"Three?" Lia asked, standing when Amalia entered with the news of an execution. She hadn't looked like she had wanted to speak to Nostariel or Ashton much more about what had happened to her, but Amalia's news clearly sparked a bit of a fire in her again. "Why not four? I'm coming with you. I can help. I can shoot." She was not nearly so good a shot as Ashton, and likely Nostariel was better than her as well, but it was clear that she wanted to use what skill she had to help them save Ithilian... and perhaps to take a bit of her own vengeance. She had already proven herself capable of killing, at least in self defense. Perhaps aggression would be another matter.
"You are not." The words fell from Ashton's mouth like lead with the sort of finality rarely found upon his tongue. But he would not be budged, there was no chance in the Maker's Kingdom that Ashton would see Lia so soon back into danger. His face was unmoving and his face made of iron, at least for a moment. It didn't last, his features soon melted back into a sort of softness. "You're not," He repeated, this time more delicately. "I told Ithilian I'd keep you safe, and I don't intend to break that promise," He said. He sat for a moment, and rubbed his face, past the point of tired and into the realm of exhaustion. There was still more needed of him, and he would give, and give until there was no more needed, or there was no more to give.
He turn looked back to Lia, his face as as easy as he could manage and his words as sensitive as he dared. "Look, you've got to understand. What we did-- What Ithilian did... If you came along and got captured again, it'd be all for nothing. I'm not going to let you do that. Leave it to us, we'll get him back. I promise you." Another promise, another pledge he'd have to see fulfilled. However he didn't regret it. They were the one things he would never regret. Looking back to Amalia he nodded, "You'll have three, and not a single one more."
She didn't like it... but it was obvious that she understood. She hated not being able to help Ithilian, when he was able to give everything for her, but she understood why she needed to stay. Deflating, she looked to Nostariel. "Where should I go, then? Back to the Alienage? Should I stay here?" She was still a criminal wanted by the guard, and they would be well aware that one of their cells was empty now, that had been filled the night before.
The last time sheâd had to tell someone where to hide, she was showing Aurora where all the good places underground and safe from Templars were. If they were safe from Templars, they were surely safe from the City Guard. Her first thought was actually to send Lia to Lucien, given that it was really harder to imagine anywhere safer than his company, but⊠she wasnât sure if he was in, and their time grew short. It was best to send her somewhere safe, but also expedient, and somewhere that wouldnât get her friend in trouble with the Guard if they came looking for Lia. âI know a few places.â Nodding, she stood and consulted her mental map of Kirkwall for a moment, picking one that wasnât too far from either the clinic or the Alienage, but definitely still underground and secret.
After describing the location and giving directions, it was decided that it would be safer if Lia had an escort there, a job for which Ashton volunteered. Heâd need to pick up equipment on the way back, besides. She wasnât particularly keen on him fighting in his still tender condition, and there was no mistaking that there would be fighting here. Nevertheless, she dare not tell him that, knowing that he was as resolved to place himself in this danger as she was, though she somehow doubted either of them even approached Amaliaâs state of mind at this point. Were there more time, she would have wanted to talk to the other woman before they began the process of planning and undergoing this venture, but they had not the luxury. They would have to go more or less as they were now, fatigue, injuries, and tense frames of mind all.
Ash returned, and it was time to get down to the nuts and bolts. Nostariel knew a fair bit of strategy, but in this kind of operation, she doubted she had near as much experience as either of the others. âAll right. Amalia, what were you thinking we should do?â It seemed natural to let her take the lead on this one.
With a face like stone, Amalia glanced between the other two. âThe first step is obviously to determine if Ithilian is among the condemned. If not, I will handle the rest myself.â Ashton was too injured to repeat the climb or anything similar, and Nostariel was ill-suited to stealth operations. These were facts, and Amalia refused to ignore them. âIf he is, then the rest is simple, if difficult. I will require a distraction, and as much cover as you can give me. Smokescreens, explosions, I care not. They will likely move to execute the prisoners as soon as they know something is happening. Timing will be essential. Once I have him, I will need cover fire to exit. I do not dare assume he will be in any condition to aid in the fighting, so that will come down to the two of you.â They would need to be placed such that they could fire on the market without being easily detected or reached.
There were a few good spots for that kind of thing, but she would need to be much closer. Disguise would be required, as they were unlikely to let someone as heavily-armored as she appeared now simply enter the grounds. She was confident in her ability to carry someone of Ithilianâs body mass the distance she would need to, even if he was entirely dead weight. It would leave little room for the nimble fighting she preferred, however, and in that sense she would very much be putting her life in their hands. But she knew that Nostariel knew what she was doing, and if Ashton had made it out of the Gallows yesterday at all, he was not a lackwit, either.
It was not lost on Nostariel that the plan was incredibly dangerous, especially for Amalia. But then, she doubted the Qunari would have it any other way, really. Some things were worth that kind of risk, and the life of a friend was one of those things. She nodded slowly, and when it seemed that neither she nor Ash really had anything to modify, she spoke. âRight. Then weâll meet back here in an hour. Should give us plenty of time to position ourselves before they start anything.â Likely, Amalia would need some kind of disguise, and she needed to equip herself as well. Nothing official this timeâthat hadnât worked when she tried, and she wasnât about to give that despicable captain a second chance to prove himself a swine.
It was better for now that she reach no conclusions about any of it. Not until things were certain. There was simply no way of knowing, but she was willing to bet that if anyone could find out, it would be Amalia. Letting her hand rest between Ashâs shoulderblades for a moment, she gave him a thin smile. "Thatâs the best I can do, for today.â It went without saying that the damage would take another day at least to repair completely, and even then, he would need to rest. Even so, he was alive, and considering what could have happened, she was⊠relieved couldnât begin to cover it.
Sinking down into a wooden chair, Nostariel reached behind her to the counter and took up a mana restorative, not a substitute for natural rest, but something she desperately needed at the moment, considering the rate at which sheâd been burning through her magic. Holding her breath against the pungent smell and taste of it, she knocked the vial back with the ease of someone whoâd once taken in other substances in a similar fashion, then set the empty flask on the arm of the chair, moving her eyes to the young woman seated at her table.
"Lia⊠Iâm sorry to make you think about it, but I have to ask: what happened?â She had no idea how the girl had been arrested in the first place, but if it were possible that the guards knew who she was and would come seeking her, then theyâd need to find some way to hide her before long.
Lia had mostly been staring blankly at the wall since she arrived at Nostariel's clinic, saying very little, typically only speaking when spoken to. She had wrapped herself in a blanket some time ago, after changing into a new set of clothes and washing her face. Her eyes were red, both from crying and general tiredness. She jumped slightly at the mention of her name, clearly lost in some amount of thought. Blinking rapidly in response to the question, she cleared her throat.
"I was... coming home after leaving Ashton's shop. I didn't get far before I noticed some shemlen that were following me." She spoke the word with a certain amount of disdain, the way Ithilian used to, much more often. "I... remember running. Somehow one of them got in front of me, made me turn down an alley. I ended up in a dead end. A city guard followed me in, and I asked him to help me. He hit me instead. I fell down... then the others were there. One of them got on top of me. The city guard stood there and watched." She swallowed thickly.
"They didn't see the knife in my boot. I killed the one on top of me, shoved it in his throat. I jumped on the second one, stabbed him a couple times in the chest. I... think he died. I don't know for sure. The other two, the guard and the other guy, they hit me from behind after that. I blacked out... then I woke up in the cell." She didn't make a great deal of eye contact throughout the retelling, staring mostly down towards the floor. "I had to kill them."
Nostarielâs throat went dry. Sheâd been afraid, so afraid⊠it was a threat she understood, though sheâd been more worried about what would happen in the actual prison cell than what had happened to land her there. Apparently this was a mistake. Her hand closed over the empty vessel at the end of the chair-arm, and she squeezed unconsciously, or it was unconscious until the sound of cracking reached her ears. Blinking slowly, she looked down at it, now frosted over and sporting a few hairline fractures. Deliberately drawing in a breath, she forced her grip to relax, standing up from the chair and moving so that she was crouching in front of Lia, placing a gentle hand on the girlâs knee.
There had been a few cases of things like this in the Circle, and the girls there frequently felt comfortable talking to nobody but each other about it, because it was notoriously difficult to bring such allegations against a Templar. Command structure tended to assume that the accuser was simply trying to avoid proper oversight, or seeking petty vengeance for some much smaller perceived slight. It was not the first time, therefore, that Nostariel had heard a tale of the kind, though they grew no easier. In her experience, there was very little that could be said, and in the Circle, sheâd been powerless to do much of anything, either.
Not quite so now. "I wish I could undo everything that happened.â And she did; there was no doubting it from her tone of voice. Such a thingâthere was very little that Nostariel considered unforgiveable, but such an act certainly qualified. "I cannot, but what I can do is promise you something. As soon as the Viscountâs office is open again, I will go up there myself. I will make sure that what happened to you cannot be ignored. The ones who hurt you who live yet and the ones who jailed you for protecting what is only yours will face punishment for that. And if the Viscount cannot help me, I will conscript them all and let the Darkspawn have them.â It wasnât enough; it couldnât be. But it was much better than the nothing that would have been the case if things were allowed to proceed as they usually would.
"In the meantime⊠if there is anything you need that I can do, you have only to ask me, Lia.â
A thump drew attention to Ashton, now recoiling in pain from the arm of the chair he had just punched. While they had stopped bleeding, the palms of his hands were still tender, and the simple act of closing his fist sent a needle of pain through the hand-- much less punching something. Still, the anger in his eyes burned bright. Though with a sigh, that anger muffled and died down into a smouldering thing. "I... I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head in his hand. He was still shirtless from Nostariel's healing, his body still nursing the evidence of the night before. Purple bruises peeked out from behind a white bandage where his ribs were cracked and his right cheek was cut, along with a black eye where his face had struck the ground on their plummet.
"It shouldn't have happened outside my shop. You should've been safe there," He said, sounding resigned. He was sorry for a lot of things, not only that. But there was nothing he could do but wish everything had been otherwise. He felt... He felt powerless, to put it bluntly. And it wasn't a recent feeling neither. Where he had found some sort of stability, the city had not and he could tell. Nodding along with what Nostariel said, "She won't be alone. Not only will they be punished, but I'll see to it that it never happens again..." The words he spoke was earnest, but he knew they meant little. Maybe even less than that. What could he do? He was just a simple shopkeep in Lowtown. There wasn't much he could do. It was an empty comfort, and it hurt to know it.
"And me. Anything you need, anything at all," That was perhaps something he could deliver.
It was at this point that Amalia entered the clinic, not bothering to knock. Sheâd been in search of information all day, and around noon, the rumor she was hoping for had finally started spreading in Lowtown. Hoping for, because it meant there was a chance he yet lived. Catching sight of the other three, she read something disquieting in their body language, but refused to even begin to consider why. Everything else was secondary to her concern now, and that was simply how it had to be until things were resolved. She crossed her arms over her armored chest, not even sparing the time to find somewhere to sit or lean before she spoke. âSundown. Thereâs to be a public execution in the Hightown Market. Several people.â There was no way of knowing whether or not Ithilian was one of those people, but it was a chance she would simply have to take. It seemed likely enough, considering the circumstances.
If he wasnât there, well⊠the Gallows would simply have to endure its second massive breach of security in as many days. But that was something to consider later, not now. Not when they had a very different plan to formulate. Whether the others intended to come or not, she was going to be present at that execution. And if Ithilian was among those to hang, she was going to stop it, or die trying.
âAre we planning for a team of three, or one?â
"Three?" Lia asked, standing when Amalia entered with the news of an execution. She hadn't looked like she had wanted to speak to Nostariel or Ashton much more about what had happened to her, but Amalia's news clearly sparked a bit of a fire in her again. "Why not four? I'm coming with you. I can help. I can shoot." She was not nearly so good a shot as Ashton, and likely Nostariel was better than her as well, but it was clear that she wanted to use what skill she had to help them save Ithilian... and perhaps to take a bit of her own vengeance. She had already proven herself capable of killing, at least in self defense. Perhaps aggression would be another matter.
"You are not." The words fell from Ashton's mouth like lead with the sort of finality rarely found upon his tongue. But he would not be budged, there was no chance in the Maker's Kingdom that Ashton would see Lia so soon back into danger. His face was unmoving and his face made of iron, at least for a moment. It didn't last, his features soon melted back into a sort of softness. "You're not," He repeated, this time more delicately. "I told Ithilian I'd keep you safe, and I don't intend to break that promise," He said. He sat for a moment, and rubbed his face, past the point of tired and into the realm of exhaustion. There was still more needed of him, and he would give, and give until there was no more needed, or there was no more to give.
He turn looked back to Lia, his face as as easy as he could manage and his words as sensitive as he dared. "Look, you've got to understand. What we did-- What Ithilian did... If you came along and got captured again, it'd be all for nothing. I'm not going to let you do that. Leave it to us, we'll get him back. I promise you." Another promise, another pledge he'd have to see fulfilled. However he didn't regret it. They were the one things he would never regret. Looking back to Amalia he nodded, "You'll have three, and not a single one more."
She didn't like it... but it was obvious that she understood. She hated not being able to help Ithilian, when he was able to give everything for her, but she understood why she needed to stay. Deflating, she looked to Nostariel. "Where should I go, then? Back to the Alienage? Should I stay here?" She was still a criminal wanted by the guard, and they would be well aware that one of their cells was empty now, that had been filled the night before.
The last time sheâd had to tell someone where to hide, she was showing Aurora where all the good places underground and safe from Templars were. If they were safe from Templars, they were surely safe from the City Guard. Her first thought was actually to send Lia to Lucien, given that it was really harder to imagine anywhere safer than his company, but⊠she wasnât sure if he was in, and their time grew short. It was best to send her somewhere safe, but also expedient, and somewhere that wouldnât get her friend in trouble with the Guard if they came looking for Lia. âI know a few places.â Nodding, she stood and consulted her mental map of Kirkwall for a moment, picking one that wasnât too far from either the clinic or the Alienage, but definitely still underground and secret.
After describing the location and giving directions, it was decided that it would be safer if Lia had an escort there, a job for which Ashton volunteered. Heâd need to pick up equipment on the way back, besides. She wasnât particularly keen on him fighting in his still tender condition, and there was no mistaking that there would be fighting here. Nevertheless, she dare not tell him that, knowing that he was as resolved to place himself in this danger as she was, though she somehow doubted either of them even approached Amaliaâs state of mind at this point. Were there more time, she would have wanted to talk to the other woman before they began the process of planning and undergoing this venture, but they had not the luxury. They would have to go more or less as they were now, fatigue, injuries, and tense frames of mind all.
Ash returned, and it was time to get down to the nuts and bolts. Nostariel knew a fair bit of strategy, but in this kind of operation, she doubted she had near as much experience as either of the others. âAll right. Amalia, what were you thinking we should do?â It seemed natural to let her take the lead on this one.
With a face like stone, Amalia glanced between the other two. âThe first step is obviously to determine if Ithilian is among the condemned. If not, I will handle the rest myself.â Ashton was too injured to repeat the climb or anything similar, and Nostariel was ill-suited to stealth operations. These were facts, and Amalia refused to ignore them. âIf he is, then the rest is simple, if difficult. I will require a distraction, and as much cover as you can give me. Smokescreens, explosions, I care not. They will likely move to execute the prisoners as soon as they know something is happening. Timing will be essential. Once I have him, I will need cover fire to exit. I do not dare assume he will be in any condition to aid in the fighting, so that will come down to the two of you.â They would need to be placed such that they could fire on the market without being easily detected or reached.
There were a few good spots for that kind of thing, but she would need to be much closer. Disguise would be required, as they were unlikely to let someone as heavily-armored as she appeared now simply enter the grounds. She was confident in her ability to carry someone of Ithilianâs body mass the distance she would need to, even if he was entirely dead weight. It would leave little room for the nimble fighting she preferred, however, and in that sense she would very much be putting her life in their hands. But she knew that Nostariel knew what she was doing, and if Ashton had made it out of the Gallows yesterday at all, he was not a lackwit, either.
It was not lost on Nostariel that the plan was incredibly dangerous, especially for Amalia. But then, she doubted the Qunari would have it any other way, really. Some things were worth that kind of risk, and the life of a friend was one of those things. She nodded slowly, and when it seemed that neither she nor Ash really had anything to modify, she spoke. âRight. Then weâll meet back here in an hour. Should give us plenty of time to position ourselves before they start anything.â Likely, Amalia would need some kind of disguise, and she needed to equip herself as well. Nothing official this timeâthat hadnât worked when she tried, and she wasnât about to give that despicable captain a second chance to prove himself a swine.