Fallout

Posted on 17 Apr 2021 @ 10:55pm by Mage Kalian Winter & Warrior Martin Josceran & Rogue Elinowy Ursulas

3,103 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: Lore's Labour's Lost
Location: Carta Mining Camp
Timeline: Cloudreach 18th - dawn

After putting up a decent resistance Martin had eventually given in to Kalian's reasonable argument that he should go topside to get things running smoothly, while they finished evacuating the mine and sending the miners up. It made sense for him to be there to speak to his fellow Guards, he supposed, but his job description usually involved him being the last one out of a dangerous situation, not the first. It felt a bit like running. At least Cainan was down there with them to help clean things up.

"They'll be fine," Sofia said. She hadn't even looked at him but apparently could read his mind with little effort.

"I know." Martin looked up, at the slowly approaching top of the ravine, and beyond at the lightening sky. It would be dawn soon.

Pyrtin and Lirta huddled together, still clearly in shock from their ordeal in the mine. It might be a while before they felt comfortable underground again. If ever.

"Maker, it feels good to have some fresh air," Sofia said quietly, eyes closed, her face offered to the ocean. The wind blowing from the north carried the smell of salt and spray. "I think I'll be sleeping outdoors for a few nights."

"The weather's right for it," Martin said. The summer festival was indeed just coming up. "By the way - I meant to give you this." He handed her the generous purse he had looted earlier in the mine. Sofia looked up at him quizzically when she heard the jingle of coin.

"Shouldn't that be confiscated by the Guard ?"

"Hmm," Martin mumbled. "What they don't know can't hurt them. I'm sure you can find a good use for it."

"But..." Sofia glanced at Lirta.

"Take it, please," the young dwarf said quietly. "We owe you that and more."

"What happened wasn't your fault," Sofia said quietly ; but she took the purse with no further protest.

The creaking platform finally reached the top, where an unknown elf was waiting. She must be Cainan's friend, the one who'd help him get rid of the guards. She had reddish hair, the shade close to Martin's own if slightly darker, and large almond-shaped green eyes. Although she was short and slim Martin would bet a week's pay that she could teach him a few new tricks. The tell-tale scratches on her leather armour bespoke of more than a few battles fought.

"Hello," He hopped from the platform onto solid ground and offered a hand to the others ; his right hand, as the left was still not fully functional despite Kalian's healing. "You must be Jaslyn, right ? Cainan mentioned your name. Thanks for the help. You saved more than a few lives tonight."

She lent her own steady hand to help the workers off the lift. The condition of most of them – thin, sick, injured - was appalling. "Yes, I'm Jaslyn. A Grey Warden. So, you are one of Cainan's friends." He hadn't offered his name, and she looked him up and down. Probably the city guardsman, Martin. "Looks like you've seen your own share of helping this night." She leaned toward the edge, the flickering light of multiple torches now revealed the crowd waiting below. It would be some time before Cainan returned to the top. "We'd better send the lift back down straight away."

"Alright, I'll leave you to it. I have a few things to organize myself. Sofia, can I ask for your assistance ?"

"Yeah, sure." Sofia glanced at Lirta and Pyrtin. "Will you two be alright ?"

"Yes... yes, of course." Lirta stood straighter, though it was clear her fortitude cost her. "We'll be fine. You take care of the others, Sofia. I'm sure they need you more than us."

Pyrtin scratched his beard. "I need to check on the state of my office, and see what Roxa did with the books."

"I will accompany them," said Jaslyn, eager for something useful to do whilst she waited for Cainan to return. Something that didn't involve hauling dead bodies.

"...Alright then," Sofia said with a last uncertain look at her erstwhile bosses.

***

Martin and Sofia started organizing the camp, setting up a few beds together for the sick and the wounded and making sure the guards were properly secured. One of them, a burly woman, had nearly managed to untie the rope binding her. Martin regretted not bringing some of the chains from the mine but they wouldn't be keeping the prisoners long enough for it to be an issue. He satisfied himself with a few complicated knots commonly used by the guard, and cleverly located so that the woman would have to literally dislocate her thumbs to even get close to touching them.

"Look, mate, we didn't do anything, Roxa - " one of them tried.

After the night he'd had Martin was sorely tempted to throw a punch but he reigned himself in. "You lot better be quiet," he said in a sinister voice, "or I'm giving you to the miners to do as they please."

He must have been convincing because a few open mouths snapped shut, and the prisoners exchanged worried looks. Martin really hoped he could secure a sentence of hard labour for them. It would be quite fitting.

***

The first rays of the sun were just touching the earth when the sounds of a marching group of men and women reached the camp. Martin left Sofia to what she was doing - helping the last miners out and distributing some more food and hot tea - and headed out to meet them. He recognized the uniform before he saw the faces and then it wasn't long before they were within hearing range. And... he winced when he recognized the woman leading them. If she had come in person... well, it meant he was in deep, deep trouble.

She stopped in front of him and the guard contingent stopped as one behind her. "Josceran."

"Captain." He saluted sharply, acutely aware of the poor image he presented.

"Well, Josceran, fancy meeting you here. I would never have guessed. I mean, of course none of my men would be stupid, foolish and dimwitted enough to take on a full smuggling and mining operation on his own without reporting to me first. Don't you think ? Or did you think at all ?" The captain's hands rested on her hips. She was of a height with him and her slate grey eyes pierced him mercilessly, her tone carrying no humour.

"Hum. I, huh." Martin was pretty sure that any answer would damn him so he opted to close his mouth, after working his jaw for a second or two.

"Of all the absolutely idiotic, imbecilic things to do - " the captain was on a roll now, never one to give up a good tongue-lashing. " - never seen such a half-baked, hare-brained scheme - " The men behind her shuffled awkwardly, though a few were clearly biting back sniggers and Martin glowered at them. " - you'll be cleaning latrine and shoveling manure for the weeks to come - no, make that months - until someone does something more stupid, so you'll probably still be at it until you retire - "

From the corner of his eyes Martin saw one of his friends approach and felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment. He did not need them to witness that dressing down, though he probably deserved it.

" - cretinously irresponsible to bring civilians into this - beyond obtuse - it beggars belief - " Captain Landry had to pause a second to take a breath. "I'm almost impressed by how inconceivably dumb you've acted today. Truly reaching new heights." She seemed to have reached the end of her impressive vocabulary, if not of her disapproval. "Well. Consider yourself on probation. Tomorrow at 8 sharp I'll expect you in my office to further discuss suitable discipline for this... incredibly moronic stunt of yours." She took off her helmet, revealing curly black hair tied in a no-nonsense ponytail. Despite the deepening lines at the corner of her eyes and underneath she still looked several years younger than she actually was, with no grey streaking her hair as of yet.

Behind her Audrey shook her head and ran her finger across her throat with an eloquent grimace. Martin made a glum face at her.

"Now. Report." Captain Landry took off her gloves and stuffed them in her helmet, eyes never leaving Martin's face.

"Yes, captain." He'd stood at attention all this time and his spine hurt when he shifted into a stiff at-ease position. "We were investigating rumours of disappearing refugees - "

"And how exactly did civilians come to be involved in that investigation of yours ? So help me, if you try to obfuscate the matter - "

"My friends were with me when we found our first clue - a flyer advertising a job - and they wanted to help. I figured the refugees would more happily speak with them than with me," Martin explained hastily. His face felt red hot. It had made sense back then. Now that he had to defend his actions to a superior, he found that they were a bit harder to justify than he'd initially thought.

He explained quickly how they'd followed the trail, how he'd wanted to investigate further before bringing in reinforcements, and he tried to hold back on his resentment when he matter-of-factly pointed out that he'd brought up the issue of disappearing Fereldans more than once before, only to be summarily dismissed. Captain Landry's gaze glinted dangerously but she let it slide. Martin summed up the rest of his day, making generous use of narrative ellipses when it suited him.

" - and we started organizing the camp to help the miners until they could be brought back to Jader."

Kalian approached soon enough to catch the last part of Martin's captain yelling at him. It was completely unwarranted – Martin was a hero. But Kalian figured that speaking up would only get his friend in more trouble. It would be better for Landry – he recognized the strong and attractive Jader city guard captain – to hear the rescued workers' sing Martin's praises.

"I see. What a fascinating tale." The captain's deadpan tone of voice was not reassuring. "Is that it ?"

Right now was when Martin should have mentioned the presence of a free-roaming apostate to his direct superior. He hesitated. Captain Landry was a good person - he had profound respect for her skill and authority, although his past actions did not exactly reflect that. She would deal with Kalian fairly and make sure he was towed safely to the Chantry.

But once there... he's too old to adapt well to life in a Circle. And they won't give him too many chances because he's powerful. And yet, Martin's duty was clear, the path laid out in front of him ; to stray from it now was a hard decision to justify.

Kalian looked at his feet and held his breath. Martin could – probably should to avoid getting in more trouble - turn him over as an apostate.

"...no, Captain," Martin said at last. Captain Landry looked him in the eyes, hard, and he held her gaze without flinching. After a minute she nodded.

"Good. Audrey, ride back to town, we're going to need a cart. Make that two. Josceline, take three men, get the prisoners ready for transportation. Géraut, I want a list of names, start taking statements from those who feel up to it. Johann, first aid. Start with Josceran here, he better not bleed out before I'm done with him. Enguerrand, secure the perimeter. Someone find me the mine owners, I want to speak to them."

Kalian exhaled in relief. While he tried to think of something to say to Martin, another guard approached his friend. Kalian hung back, watching and listening.

-----

The sick were being cared for, food was abundant for all the survivors and the authorities were now taking control of the scene. Sister Elinowy dressed in a ragged blanket walked towards the opening of the camp. It had been a long night. She kept to comforting the wounded and sick, avoiding her companions as they organized the camp. Even for a devoted Daughter of the Chantry the last day had been draining on her in body and soul. She felt the cool breeze of the morning coming in from the sea and washing over her face. A new dawn. The Maker had seen it fit for her to live another day... however she had managed to survive.

She had a duty to perform. While her heart felt heavy and distant, the ways of liturgy still had value. She faced toward the sun, casting off the blanket that covered the shredded remains of her outfit feeling the chill of the morning as it gripped her body. Discomfort was without value. As long practiced she laced each foot firmly onto the ground, shoulder width apart, her arms extended in welcome greeting of the dawn, and she sang.

Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,
I shall embrace the Light. I shall weather the storm.
I shall endure.
What you have created, no one can tear asunder.

Who knows me as You do?
You have been there since before my first breath.
You have seen me when no other would recognize my face.
You composed the cadence of my heart.

While not the canticle of the day, Trials had always been dear to her heart. Each word ached with the deeper meaning of her perplexed and tormented soul. Her arms slid into the grasping bird form, her legs stepping forward and to the right, one leg lifting in a slow arc. The song and forms were equal parts of a prayer. As she sang she felt the heaviness of her heart lift. There was no turmoil, no regret, there was just the song and the light it brought into her soul.

Several people liberated from the mine stopped and watched in fascination as the tall, poorly clad woman moved through each position with fluidity and grace. If Elinowy was aware of them she did not show it. Her body was a vessel for the song. Her voice carried in hauntingly beautiful tones throughout the camp and into the mine itself.

Morning prayer could last 30 minutes to an hour. For Elinowy it was timeless while also completed too soon. Her hands cupped at her heart as she sang the last notes. The sun had risen well above the horizon, its warmth shining on her face. Her eyes opened, filled with solace. The Maker was with her. She gathered up the blanket and returned to her companions.

--------

Everyone scattered to carry out their orders. Johann, who was carrying the first aid kit, approached Martin with a bit of a smirk. Clearly he was enjoying himself, as well he might - they'd never really gotten along. But Johann was still a Guard, and professional, so he kept his mirth to himself and soberly asked, "Anything else beside the arm ?"

"No," Martin mumbled. "Er, the arm's fine - "

Johann rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right." Without asking for permission he took Martin's arm, firmly but gently enough, eyebrows shooting upwards when he saw the wound underneath the crusty, torn sleeve.

"Told you." Martin pulled Johann's hand off.

"That... looks like an older wound. Nearly healed." Johann blinked, the gears clearly working furiously inside his mind. "But - "

"It is. An older wound. The blood's not mine," Martin said. At least he didn't feel a shred of guilt lying to Johann. "I cut the sleeve by accident when I wiped the blood off my sword." Not entirely convincing, but not wholly unbelievable either, and it wasn't like the jump to apostate healing was obvious. "You better help the miners."

Johann sniffed, with a last suspicious look at Martin before he endeavored to do just that.

Kalian watched the other guard with a first aid kit walk toward the recovering miners. It was only a matter of time until someone mentioned a mage. Time for a smart apostate to slip away. "I can't believe she yelled at you. You're a hero, Martin. Because of you, these people are free."

Martin snorted and gave Kalian a wan smile. A sleepless night and day of hard labour, not to mention the fighting, had taken its toll on him. "Believe me, Captain Landry is not impressed. She's not wrong, you know. I should have gone to her with our findings before we went to meet the recruiters, ask for backup and support. I wanted to get enough evidence to make sure I didn't get fobbed off again... and that nearly got us all killed. So... I guess I'm sorry ?"

Kalian gave him a sheepish smile, and shook his head. "And… and I'm grateful that I'm still free, Martin. I, uh, should be going. I owe you an explanation, but later… if I'm not at the Raven's Roost, my sister will know how to contact me."

Martin met Kalian's eyes, a warm brown in the dim light of the rising sun, and he wondered if this was the last time he saw him. It wasn't too late to arrest him, he supposed. He shook his head, somehow finding it within himself to smile. He hoped Kalian would be there when he visited the Raven... but he wouldn't stop him from leaving. His new friend deserved that much trust from him.

"We do need to have a conversation." He paused. "Sofia said she'd pass the word around to not mention you... but there are a lot of miners, and not all of them answer to her I suppose. And some of the things that happened down here... Well. Should be difficult to identify who did what, anyway. Will you be alright heading back on your own ?"

"Thank you, Martin." Kalian had the sudden urge to embrace his friend, but if one of the workers did out him to the city guard as an apostate, a public display of affection might just get Martin in more trouble. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

"Alright then. Take care of yourself. I'll see you at the Raven."

"See you there." As Kalian turned to walk away, he muttered, "It's the end of the world, all over again."

A few minutes later, a large Raven could be seen circling high above the mining camp, before heading northwest toward Jader.

-----

 

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