Estella pushed a heavy breath through her nose. Already she was beginning to ache, perhaps more from the continued proximity of red lyrium than anything. It was in her arms especially, and oddly enough her teeth, making her jaw feel creaky and sore. Admittedly, the fighting had been rather pitched at the Gallows, even after the initial push was so successful. The time it had taken had given the remaining red templars plenty of opportunity to dig in to the more defensible areas, and trying to clear them out had not been pleasant, to say the least.
"Here." An arm appeared in her field of vision; Lucien was handing her a scrap of fabric that might once have belonged to just such a templar. It was clean, though, and wet from where he'd dipped it in the ocean. "You've blood on your face."
She glanced at him, offering a thin smile. "Thanks, Lucien." She hadn't even noticed, honestly, but it was probably better to be cautious. She didn't want to end up with an accidental case of red lyrium poisoning, after all. Carefully, Estella swiped at her face with the cloth, crouching by the edge of the water and wringing it clean before she went back a second time and did the same thing. She used the remaining water to slick her hair back, pulling stray black strands from in front of her eyes and patting them against her head. It helped her feel a little more human, at least. Less like a shambling automaton. So did Lucien's hand on her shoulder, offering a brief squeeze before it fell away.
They were waiting, now. While the Inquisition had managed to clear out the entirety of the Gallows, they'd had no luck at all in destroying the boom chains from this side. When Khari's group had gotten close enough to try, they'd found them protected by a growth of red crystals large enough to render even the non-magical in the party seriously ill. No doubt it would be fatal to stand too close for long, and it had been ruled too dangerous to even try destroying the lyrium itself.
So their options were few. No boats remained at the Gallows; all of them were harbor-side, and with the chains still up, none of the Inquisition ships were getting through either. Most of the army was still aboard, actually, unable to act without anywhere to land. Even here, where the hole in the side of the fortress had created a small place to come ashore, there wasn't near enough room for everyone. As day drew into evening, they had little choice but to wait for more information. Perhaps Lia and the others would have something they could work with.
Estella squeezed excess water out of the cloth and draped it over her neck, glancing to her left. Leon had come ashore for the rout, and now stood against the outer wall, planted on the thin strip of land between it and the sea, arms crossed and scanning for the approach of the scouts, no doubt.
Not far from where he stood, Khari was crouched by the water as well, using sand to scrub some more stubborn bits of blood and who knew what else off her gauntlets and sword. Neither would be back to pristine condition any time soon, but at least the joints and cutting edge would both remain functional. Rilien stood beside Sparrow, still as ever, with no sign of the impatience or expectancy that seemed to suffuse the air. On the other hand, Sparrow seemed intent on the stubborn, gory matter clinging to her mace, mouth pursed. Picking at whatever she could.
The caravel the scouts took to the Wounded Coast wasn't too much longer in the returning, easing in through the other impatiently waiting ships and pulling up alongside the slab of rock that they had to land on. Lia was the first one over the side, boots and pants still spattered with mud and dirt, but thankfully no blood. The elf hardly needed to get that close to be in combat, but her quiver looked to be full still as well, implying that they hadn't run into any trouble outside of the city.
Amalia followed her over, and then Ithilian. Despite the loss of his lower left arm he refused to be left behind, insisting on going with the other scouts to explore the outskirts. He didn't bother carrying a bow anymore, given the impossibility of him using it, but he did still have his knife. He required some assistance from his daughter getting down onto the rock without incident, but soon the caravel was pulling away again.
"No luck with the chain?" Lia asked, worry etched across her face.
Estella shook her head, rising from her crouch and brushing her hands off on her trousers. "Unfortunately no," she said, pursing her lips. "It's protected by a layer of red lyrium. Even if we could get close enough to try, it's too thick for any of the means at our disposal."
With a sigh, she glanced at Leon. The commander nodded and ducked back into the cannon-created entryway. "We were waiting for your report before we decided how to proceed. The others are in the mess." Everyone filed in, taking the short route to what had once been the dining hall for the rank-and-file templars here. It had been the site of a pitched battle, as the overturned tables and smears of blood on the floor would attest. But red templars didn't need to eat, and as a result, this had been one of the least-tainted rooms in the entire castle.
Someone had turned one of the tables and a pair of benches right-side-up, and there Rom and Séverine already waited, Leon's maps once again laid out in front of them, along with an array of familiar wooden tokens. It was clear that this would not be a simple matter, strategically, and they needed to come up with something quickly, because there was no way anyone was swimming to shore.
Séverine stood as soon as she saw them come in. Her expression was still grim, still frustrated. She hadn't found any sign of Knight-Commander Cullen in the Templar Headquarters, and while that meant his death couldn't yet be confirmed, she was clearly bothered by not knowing. No doubt also by being able to see Kirkwall without actually being able to get there and help.
"What's the situation?" she asked.
Lia took a deep breath, and began. "The Red Templars have seized all points of entry from the coast into Hightown. As far as we can tell, though, they don't have Hightown yet. There's definitely still fighting going on in there. My best guess is they established defensive positions at tighter points around the chantry building and the Viscountess's Keep. They're holding them off for now, but I can't say for how long."
"So how do we get the chains down?" Romulus asked, still seated and studying the maps. Quite the first visit to Kirkwall he was getting, as were many others. "How do we help them?"
"The way I see it, we have to go back to Stel's plan: get some people into the city, and go for the slave statue towers. They've gotta be guarded, but if we can just get one of them down, the ships could come through, and we could attack the docks in full."
"What's the status of the towers themselves, as far as you can tell?" Lucien folded his arms over his chest, studying the spot on the map where the nearest one stood. It was a familiar scene for Estella, really—still somehow more familiar than receiving such reports herself.
"Intact and working, I think." She didn't look entirely certain about that, but no doubt there had been a lot of ground to cover in a short period of time. "I don't think the Reds would want to damage them. If the towers come down, the chains would, too." Sadly, they were almost certainly out of range of any siege equipment they had on their ships. Even the Qunari cannon couldn't hope to fire that far.
"There are interesting things going on near either one, though," Lia continued. "The eastern tower isn't far from the Alienage, where there are definitely still people resisting. Safe to say the elves barricaded themselves in, as there's only one road that accesses it." As with Val Royeaux, it was meant to more easily trap them in the event that a purge needed to be carried out, but it also happened to make it a more naturally defensible position.
"And the western tower?" Séverine asked. "Inside the foundry district."
"Right." Lia looked at the region of the city in question, where so many of Lowtown's residents made their living producing the goods that fueled the city's lifelines of trade. "The walls are too high there to get much of a look. But there's something happening. We didn't hear much fighting, but sometimes there would be these low booms and crashes." She shrugged, unable to comment further. "Easiest way to both of those places is through the docks, if we can get some people there without being seen. Not long until dark now."
“Well... we've got rowboats." Khari shrugged, shifting her weight. Estella could tell that she wasn't completely confident breaking into a strategic discussion of this sort, but as usual, she wasn't letting that stop her. “We couldn't send too many, obviously, in case they got spotted, but if we wanted to do this quietly, we could give it a shot."
Rilien nodded slowly. “That will need to be balanced with survivability. The Alienage is one matter, but whoever enters the Foundry District will be doing so blindly. There is a great deal of risk in that, and it will require skill to succeed." He paused, the uncanny smoothness of his face interrupted just momentarily by a small furrow in his brow. “I will go." He placed one of the bird tokens Estella knew to be his on the spot.
"You can't go alone," Estella protested immediately. She knew Rilien was subtler and more quiet than just about anyone, but if it came to a fight—she couldn't stand the thought of him facing whatever was in there alone. Even on the off-chance he was discovered. "I'll go with you, at least." He'd taught her how to move softly, and her mark was probably the single best chance of escape they had if things went really sour.
He shook his head exactly once. “No." Rilien's body language shifted just slightly; his grip on his own arms had tightened beneath his sleeves. “The danger is precisely the reason you in particular must not go."
“I’ll go with him,” Sparrow leaned heavily on her mace, both hands steepled together, chin resting atop them. Her expression softened a little, making the scar pull. She leveled Estella with a stare, and bobbed her head in a nod, straightening her posture, "Don't worry." If she went, there was no doubt she’d let anything befall Rilien, not without tearing the entire city down—even if he could fend for himself just as well. While she was not nearly as soft-treading as he was, her strength and personal involvement would make up for what she lacked.
It seemed quite unlikely that Rilien had not been expecting as much. “We will endeavor not to die." Estella recognized the dry statement as a form of humor, or whatever it was exactly that her teacher used instead.
With that worked out, it remained to decide who was going to tackle the Alienage side of things. Amalia glanced up from the map, meeting Stel's eyes as though she'd read the direction of her thoughts. "I can be part of the other group. Alone or partnered matters little; whatever you think is best."
It more or less went without saying that her usual companion-in-arms was a less obvious choice than he once would have been. Impressive as he was, Ithilian was now an elf with only one arm. Amalia clearly did not take this to disqualify him, and Estella didn't either, but if the groups were to be so small, it made sense to choose someone who could be as effective as possible at the task.
"I'll go with you." The offer came from Lia, though not without some nervousness, small hints in her voice only really perceptible to those that knew her well, as Estella did. There were several others in the room that could probably pick up on it, too. What it stemmed from was harder to say.
"You will not." That came from Ithilian. He moved his arms almost as though to cross them disapprovingly, but found himself incapable of it. His scowl grew. "I will."
Lia glanced at the others, obviously uncomfortable. "Dad..." She said the word very quietly, but still audible in the relative silence of the room. "You can't. Not like this. I know you don't want Amalia to go alone. We'll watch each other's backs." She looked at Amalia. "If that's all right with you."
Amalia took a moment to consider that. She didn't look terribly surprised by the suggestion, but then, Estella had never seen anything catch her off guard. She met Ithilian's eye first, some kind of conversation that the rest of the room couldn't follow taking place in the smallest change in their expressions. But then she turned her attention to Lia, and nodded slightly, just once.
"It is."
Well... that decided that. "Well..." Estella said into the silence. "I think that means the rest of us are going to have to wait things out on the ships. We should keep whoever plans to be in the vanguard on the same one." No doubt that would include most of the people in this room.
Ithilian didn't seem happy about it, but that was hardly a surprise. There wasn't much more to discuss, as it would be dark soon, dark enough for the boats to have a chance to slip through undetected by the Red Templars. The group began to disperse and see to whatever preparations needed to be made, though Lia asked Estella and Lucien to hold a moment.
"Some parts of Lowtown looked like they got hit pretty hard," she said, once they had a small moment of relative privacy. "I, uh... I think the barracks might not have made it. I hope the others had enough time to group together, wherever they are." It went without saying that an organized group of the Argent Lions made for a formidable opponent, one even a Red Templar army could have trouble with.
Lucien's mouth pulled to the side, but he nodded slowly. "I've no doubt Havard did whatever could be done," he said after a moment. Of course, it was still very much unknown what could have been done, or what condition any of their old friends were in. Estella felt a nervous flutter at the pit of her stomach, but she did her best to push it down. One step at a time—that was really the only option here.
Lia nodded, obviously nervous as well. "There's, uh... one other thing I wanted to ask you." She seemed to be asking it of Lucien specifically. "Can you talk to my dad while I'm gone, and... try to convince him to stay behind, once we get the chains down? He's—he's not ready to fight a battle. And he's never going to be again. I just need to know he'll be safe. He respects you, I think he'll listen. I hope he will."
He lifted a hand to rub at his short beard, frowning. "I can... make an attempt," he replied at last. "But if it's truly his desire to fight, I don't believe I'll be able to stop him. He cares about this place as much as any of us do, I think." His brows knit; the situation clearly pulled him two ways, but Estella knew well that Lucien wasn't the kind of leader who preferred to override the people he fought beside when there was disagreement.
"Okay. Thanks." The words left her in a bit of a rush, and suddenly she smiled awkwardly. "Have I mentioned how good it is to see you? Because it's really good to see you." She stretched out her arms, requesting a hug from the Emperor of Orlais. "Wish me luck?"
"The very best of luck." Lucien stepped into the hug, easily wrapping his arms around Lia. "And it's wonderful to see you again, too." He lifted one of his hands away, holding it out towards Estella, who grinned and happily stepped in as well, one arm around each of their backs.
She was still smiling when she stepped away. No doubt the battle ahead would be exceptionally difficult. But she believed more than ever that they'd succeed anyway.
"Here." An arm appeared in her field of vision; Lucien was handing her a scrap of fabric that might once have belonged to just such a templar. It was clean, though, and wet from where he'd dipped it in the ocean. "You've blood on your face."
She glanced at him, offering a thin smile. "Thanks, Lucien." She hadn't even noticed, honestly, but it was probably better to be cautious. She didn't want to end up with an accidental case of red lyrium poisoning, after all. Carefully, Estella swiped at her face with the cloth, crouching by the edge of the water and wringing it clean before she went back a second time and did the same thing. She used the remaining water to slick her hair back, pulling stray black strands from in front of her eyes and patting them against her head. It helped her feel a little more human, at least. Less like a shambling automaton. So did Lucien's hand on her shoulder, offering a brief squeeze before it fell away.
They were waiting, now. While the Inquisition had managed to clear out the entirety of the Gallows, they'd had no luck at all in destroying the boom chains from this side. When Khari's group had gotten close enough to try, they'd found them protected by a growth of red crystals large enough to render even the non-magical in the party seriously ill. No doubt it would be fatal to stand too close for long, and it had been ruled too dangerous to even try destroying the lyrium itself.
So their options were few. No boats remained at the Gallows; all of them were harbor-side, and with the chains still up, none of the Inquisition ships were getting through either. Most of the army was still aboard, actually, unable to act without anywhere to land. Even here, where the hole in the side of the fortress had created a small place to come ashore, there wasn't near enough room for everyone. As day drew into evening, they had little choice but to wait for more information. Perhaps Lia and the others would have something they could work with.
Estella squeezed excess water out of the cloth and draped it over her neck, glancing to her left. Leon had come ashore for the rout, and now stood against the outer wall, planted on the thin strip of land between it and the sea, arms crossed and scanning for the approach of the scouts, no doubt.
Not far from where he stood, Khari was crouched by the water as well, using sand to scrub some more stubborn bits of blood and who knew what else off her gauntlets and sword. Neither would be back to pristine condition any time soon, but at least the joints and cutting edge would both remain functional. Rilien stood beside Sparrow, still as ever, with no sign of the impatience or expectancy that seemed to suffuse the air. On the other hand, Sparrow seemed intent on the stubborn, gory matter clinging to her mace, mouth pursed. Picking at whatever she could.
The caravel the scouts took to the Wounded Coast wasn't too much longer in the returning, easing in through the other impatiently waiting ships and pulling up alongside the slab of rock that they had to land on. Lia was the first one over the side, boots and pants still spattered with mud and dirt, but thankfully no blood. The elf hardly needed to get that close to be in combat, but her quiver looked to be full still as well, implying that they hadn't run into any trouble outside of the city.
Amalia followed her over, and then Ithilian. Despite the loss of his lower left arm he refused to be left behind, insisting on going with the other scouts to explore the outskirts. He didn't bother carrying a bow anymore, given the impossibility of him using it, but he did still have his knife. He required some assistance from his daughter getting down onto the rock without incident, but soon the caravel was pulling away again.
"No luck with the chain?" Lia asked, worry etched across her face.
Estella shook her head, rising from her crouch and brushing her hands off on her trousers. "Unfortunately no," she said, pursing her lips. "It's protected by a layer of red lyrium. Even if we could get close enough to try, it's too thick for any of the means at our disposal."
With a sigh, she glanced at Leon. The commander nodded and ducked back into the cannon-created entryway. "We were waiting for your report before we decided how to proceed. The others are in the mess." Everyone filed in, taking the short route to what had once been the dining hall for the rank-and-file templars here. It had been the site of a pitched battle, as the overturned tables and smears of blood on the floor would attest. But red templars didn't need to eat, and as a result, this had been one of the least-tainted rooms in the entire castle.
Someone had turned one of the tables and a pair of benches right-side-up, and there Rom and Séverine already waited, Leon's maps once again laid out in front of them, along with an array of familiar wooden tokens. It was clear that this would not be a simple matter, strategically, and they needed to come up with something quickly, because there was no way anyone was swimming to shore.
Séverine stood as soon as she saw them come in. Her expression was still grim, still frustrated. She hadn't found any sign of Knight-Commander Cullen in the Templar Headquarters, and while that meant his death couldn't yet be confirmed, she was clearly bothered by not knowing. No doubt also by being able to see Kirkwall without actually being able to get there and help.
"What's the situation?" she asked.
Lia took a deep breath, and began. "The Red Templars have seized all points of entry from the coast into Hightown. As far as we can tell, though, they don't have Hightown yet. There's definitely still fighting going on in there. My best guess is they established defensive positions at tighter points around the chantry building and the Viscountess's Keep. They're holding them off for now, but I can't say for how long."
"So how do we get the chains down?" Romulus asked, still seated and studying the maps. Quite the first visit to Kirkwall he was getting, as were many others. "How do we help them?"
"The way I see it, we have to go back to Stel's plan: get some people into the city, and go for the slave statue towers. They've gotta be guarded, but if we can just get one of them down, the ships could come through, and we could attack the docks in full."
"What's the status of the towers themselves, as far as you can tell?" Lucien folded his arms over his chest, studying the spot on the map where the nearest one stood. It was a familiar scene for Estella, really—still somehow more familiar than receiving such reports herself.
"Intact and working, I think." She didn't look entirely certain about that, but no doubt there had been a lot of ground to cover in a short period of time. "I don't think the Reds would want to damage them. If the towers come down, the chains would, too." Sadly, they were almost certainly out of range of any siege equipment they had on their ships. Even the Qunari cannon couldn't hope to fire that far.
"There are interesting things going on near either one, though," Lia continued. "The eastern tower isn't far from the Alienage, where there are definitely still people resisting. Safe to say the elves barricaded themselves in, as there's only one road that accesses it." As with Val Royeaux, it was meant to more easily trap them in the event that a purge needed to be carried out, but it also happened to make it a more naturally defensible position.
"And the western tower?" Séverine asked. "Inside the foundry district."
"Right." Lia looked at the region of the city in question, where so many of Lowtown's residents made their living producing the goods that fueled the city's lifelines of trade. "The walls are too high there to get much of a look. But there's something happening. We didn't hear much fighting, but sometimes there would be these low booms and crashes." She shrugged, unable to comment further. "Easiest way to both of those places is through the docks, if we can get some people there without being seen. Not long until dark now."
“Well... we've got rowboats." Khari shrugged, shifting her weight. Estella could tell that she wasn't completely confident breaking into a strategic discussion of this sort, but as usual, she wasn't letting that stop her. “We couldn't send too many, obviously, in case they got spotted, but if we wanted to do this quietly, we could give it a shot."
Rilien nodded slowly. “That will need to be balanced with survivability. The Alienage is one matter, but whoever enters the Foundry District will be doing so blindly. There is a great deal of risk in that, and it will require skill to succeed." He paused, the uncanny smoothness of his face interrupted just momentarily by a small furrow in his brow. “I will go." He placed one of the bird tokens Estella knew to be his on the spot.
"You can't go alone," Estella protested immediately. She knew Rilien was subtler and more quiet than just about anyone, but if it came to a fight—she couldn't stand the thought of him facing whatever was in there alone. Even on the off-chance he was discovered. "I'll go with you, at least." He'd taught her how to move softly, and her mark was probably the single best chance of escape they had if things went really sour.
He shook his head exactly once. “No." Rilien's body language shifted just slightly; his grip on his own arms had tightened beneath his sleeves. “The danger is precisely the reason you in particular must not go."
“I’ll go with him,” Sparrow leaned heavily on her mace, both hands steepled together, chin resting atop them. Her expression softened a little, making the scar pull. She leveled Estella with a stare, and bobbed her head in a nod, straightening her posture, "Don't worry." If she went, there was no doubt she’d let anything befall Rilien, not without tearing the entire city down—even if he could fend for himself just as well. While she was not nearly as soft-treading as he was, her strength and personal involvement would make up for what she lacked.
It seemed quite unlikely that Rilien had not been expecting as much. “We will endeavor not to die." Estella recognized the dry statement as a form of humor, or whatever it was exactly that her teacher used instead.
With that worked out, it remained to decide who was going to tackle the Alienage side of things. Amalia glanced up from the map, meeting Stel's eyes as though she'd read the direction of her thoughts. "I can be part of the other group. Alone or partnered matters little; whatever you think is best."
It more or less went without saying that her usual companion-in-arms was a less obvious choice than he once would have been. Impressive as he was, Ithilian was now an elf with only one arm. Amalia clearly did not take this to disqualify him, and Estella didn't either, but if the groups were to be so small, it made sense to choose someone who could be as effective as possible at the task.
"I'll go with you." The offer came from Lia, though not without some nervousness, small hints in her voice only really perceptible to those that knew her well, as Estella did. There were several others in the room that could probably pick up on it, too. What it stemmed from was harder to say.
"You will not." That came from Ithilian. He moved his arms almost as though to cross them disapprovingly, but found himself incapable of it. His scowl grew. "I will."
Lia glanced at the others, obviously uncomfortable. "Dad..." She said the word very quietly, but still audible in the relative silence of the room. "You can't. Not like this. I know you don't want Amalia to go alone. We'll watch each other's backs." She looked at Amalia. "If that's all right with you."
Amalia took a moment to consider that. She didn't look terribly surprised by the suggestion, but then, Estella had never seen anything catch her off guard. She met Ithilian's eye first, some kind of conversation that the rest of the room couldn't follow taking place in the smallest change in their expressions. But then she turned her attention to Lia, and nodded slightly, just once.
"It is."
Well... that decided that. "Well..." Estella said into the silence. "I think that means the rest of us are going to have to wait things out on the ships. We should keep whoever plans to be in the vanguard on the same one." No doubt that would include most of the people in this room.
Ithilian didn't seem happy about it, but that was hardly a surprise. There wasn't much more to discuss, as it would be dark soon, dark enough for the boats to have a chance to slip through undetected by the Red Templars. The group began to disperse and see to whatever preparations needed to be made, though Lia asked Estella and Lucien to hold a moment.
"Some parts of Lowtown looked like they got hit pretty hard," she said, once they had a small moment of relative privacy. "I, uh... I think the barracks might not have made it. I hope the others had enough time to group together, wherever they are." It went without saying that an organized group of the Argent Lions made for a formidable opponent, one even a Red Templar army could have trouble with.
Lucien's mouth pulled to the side, but he nodded slowly. "I've no doubt Havard did whatever could be done," he said after a moment. Of course, it was still very much unknown what could have been done, or what condition any of their old friends were in. Estella felt a nervous flutter at the pit of her stomach, but she did her best to push it down. One step at a time—that was really the only option here.
Lia nodded, obviously nervous as well. "There's, uh... one other thing I wanted to ask you." She seemed to be asking it of Lucien specifically. "Can you talk to my dad while I'm gone, and... try to convince him to stay behind, once we get the chains down? He's—he's not ready to fight a battle. And he's never going to be again. I just need to know he'll be safe. He respects you, I think he'll listen. I hope he will."
He lifted a hand to rub at his short beard, frowning. "I can... make an attempt," he replied at last. "But if it's truly his desire to fight, I don't believe I'll be able to stop him. He cares about this place as much as any of us do, I think." His brows knit; the situation clearly pulled him two ways, but Estella knew well that Lucien wasn't the kind of leader who preferred to override the people he fought beside when there was disagreement.
"Okay. Thanks." The words left her in a bit of a rush, and suddenly she smiled awkwardly. "Have I mentioned how good it is to see you? Because it's really good to see you." She stretched out her arms, requesting a hug from the Emperor of Orlais. "Wish me luck?"
"The very best of luck." Lucien stepped into the hug, easily wrapping his arms around Lia. "And it's wonderful to see you again, too." He lifted one of his hands away, holding it out towards Estella, who grinned and happily stepped in as well, one arm around each of their backs.
She was still smiling when she stepped away. No doubt the battle ahead would be exceptionally difficult. But she believed more than ever that they'd succeed anyway.