It happens to everyone - sometimes, you have nights where you just can't fall asleep, no matter what you do. It could be for a number of reasons, or no reason at all. And this is what's happened now: you've been laying in bed for what feels like hours, just tossing and turning, and nothing seems to help. So what's left to do? Get out of bed and go wake someone else up, of course. If you're not getting any sleep, then why should they?
i n s t r u c t i o n s • Post with your character (note the name and fandom in the subject).
• Other people reply to you by generating a number from 1 to 10.
• Have fun!
o p t i o n s 01 • FEAR. Maybe you're hearing strange, indeterminable noises; maybe there's a severe storm happening outside; maybe you watched a scary movie before bed? Whatever the reason, you're terrified and it's keeping you awake. You just want to wake someone else up so they can protect you from the monster in your closet.
02 • HUNGER. Your stomach is growling and it just won't stop. Or perhaps your throat is so dry you could cough up a tumbleweed? Well, you've gone to the kitchen to remedy this and hey, that was a pan that just dropped on the floor. It was loud enough to wake the dead! Oops.
03 • PAIN. Your body is completely worn out, be it from exercise, battle, sickness, or what have you. Either way you're in enough pain to keep you from sleeping, so maybe someone else has a home remedy or something, or can at least help you take your mind off of it.
04 • SOLITUDE. For some reason, your bed just feels so empty at the moment. You're feeling terribly lonely and really just want someone to keep you company for a while. Maybe it'd be easier to fall asleep if you're with them...
05 • DISCOMFORT. Your room is an oven. Either that or a freezer. Or maybe this bed is just really uncomfortable? Who knows why you can't get to sleep, it feels like it could be anything. Why even bother trying? Maybe someone else can preoccupy you until you feel tired enough to ignore your discomfort.
06 • PENSIVE. Something's on your mind, and no matter how hard you try to focus elsewhere, it's just not going to work. Your body may be tired, but your mind is incredibly busy and it's virtually impossible to get to sleep. Surely, talking it out with someone else will help?
07 • SADNESS. Something terrible has happened that day, perhaps; or you could just be severely depressed. Either way you're trying your hardest not to cry yourself to sleep, and it's not working at all. Better find a way to get it out of your system somehow; you need a shoulder to cry on.
08 • ANGER. You are just... fuming. Who knows why - that annoying dog is barking again, or maybe the people next door are getting busy and keeping you awake. Whatever the reason for your ire is, you'd better put an end to it so you can get some damn rest already! Go wake up a friend so you can complain to them.
09 • RESTLESS. You're far too energetic to sleep right now. Maybe you're just trying to do so out of necessity - you have to be up early tomorrow! But you just don't think you'll be able to fall asleep for a while now, so why waste the time trying to sleep when you could be doing something else? Namely bothering someone else - you're totally jealous because they're getting more sleep than you.
10 • WILDCARD. Choose one of the options above, or make up your own scenario.
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bakerstreet2020-10-01 04:32 pm
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Lasulahn supposes that if his night had begun with being under the thrall of Red Lyrium, and the next morning began with new allies, he would be in a good mood, too. The Inquisitor though, is far more tense than anything, brow furrowed as they begin their trek towards Suledin Keep. He responds to anything directly addressed towards him, but otherwise remains quiet. The companions talk amongst themselves, and some inquire after Wrathion or include him occasionally in their banter. One good thing about having such a diverse team, perhaps, is that new members join with relative ease. They have a common goal. There are disagreements often enough, some more vehement than others, but this morning is thankfully free of bickering.
In the last leg of their short journey, when they've paused at a landmark where an Inquisition agent is to meet them with any updates, Lasulahn perches on a rock. He crosses an ankle over his knee and brushes snow from his feet. Aside from a knit wrap that secures beneath the arch, his feet are otherwise bare.
Deciding that idle curiosity is alright while they've nothing to do but wait, the elf looks to Wrathion. ]
Are there places like this in your world? Azeroth? [ He gestures to the snow and ice around him. ]
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The other magic-users in the party seem less enthused by his presence. The statuesque woman with the fabulous cheekbones says nothing to him at all and seems to be trying to ignore him out of existence, and the bald elf doesn't appear overeager to speak to him either. The third mage, a fantastically handsome creature as mortals go, at least knows how to carry a good banter back and forth. He and the bullish looking man -- a Qunari, he finds out as they chat -- make for the most pleasant company of the bunch.
No, the truly unnerving one is that pale boy in the hat, who stares at him with milky eyes and then creases his brow as though suddenly feeling pity for the dragon. He's not sure where that look came from, but he quickly finds cause to turn his attention elsewhere. And then, before long, they're within line of sight for the massive keep.
Everyone seems to be settling in to wait for a spell, and Wrathion moves up to stand nearest to Lasulahn. Out in the cold like this, it's possible to notice that even in mortal form, the dragon actually seems to radiate heat like the low burn of a campfire. ]
There are. Especially to the north. They are not my favorite, as places to be go.
[ Regardless, he does still seem to be smiling, but more relaxed. As if that's simply the way his face naturally falls at rest, into a slightly knowing smirk. ]
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Really? The North here are mostly warmer climates.
[ He's just about to curiously remark on the fact that Wrathion seems somehow to be giving off heat, when the reaction of some of the other companions draw his attention. Running towards them, from the direction of the Keep, is a lone Inquisition agent.
'Someone is already fighting!' the agent tells them breathlessly, as Lasulahn moves quickly to meet him. 'I think it's Michel de Chevin.' ] From Sahrnia? [ The agent nods, and points outside the gates.
The Inquisitor turns to his companions. ] Stick to the plan as much as you can, try not to get separated. I don't want anyone getting hurt if we can help it.
Let's go!
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It's quickly pushed aside, however. His smirk widens, and the party moves forward towards the looming gate. All around, the signs of that blood-red crystal jut out of the snow, over the stone, like a spreading disease.
And true to the agent's word, there's a man in armor fighting just outside those ominous doors. Armored knights, coated in glowing red dust and eyes bulging and unnatural, take their swings at him in turns. ]
Poor fellow looks as though he could use a hand, doesn't he?
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The Inquisitor looks to his new companion, brow furrowed and expression set in a serious look. Battle is not new to this elf. Not any longer. ]
Fight as you will, I will do my best to keep you shielded.
[ As they venture close enough, Lasulahn gestures with his staff, the crystal focus illuminating. A glyph scrawls itself beneath de Chevin's feet, a faint green-white glow that seems to coalesce around the man. A Red Templar's blade glances harmlessly off, and the display draws the man's attention as the Inquisitor's companions enter the fray. ]
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The flutter of his coat tails behind him is nearly reminiscent of the dragon's wings, just for a moment, as he dives forward to dig his blades into the throat of one unfortunate templar...but he quickly jerks back as red crystalline matter rather than blood sprays free, and the choking gasps of the man as he crumples sound like ground glass.
Poor bastards. ]
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True to his word, he shields Wrathion in the same strange glow that had protected Michel de Chevin. Blows glance off, though eventually the magic cracks and splinters eventually whether for the damage sustained or the time it has been in place - Lasulahn is quick to replace the protective magic. Even the spray of red lyrium falls harmlessly aside.
The Dalish mage holds no love for Templars, but even he does not wish this sort of fate on them. Lasulahn is quick to join the others when the last Red Templar lays dead. De Chevin is just as quick to leave to see to some other matter. As they prepare to assail the front gates (which look surprisingly fragile for the apparent remaining strength of the rest of the keep), Lasulahn checks individually on his companions, and then turns to his newest to do the same. He is a little breathless for the strain of keeping everyone shielded as best he can, but looks otherwise none the worse for wear. ] You're unharmed?
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[ A cocky grin hitches into place, though his eyes linger for a moment on the elf. Managing to shield all of them like that is no small feat. There's good reason they all seem to follow Lasulahn's lead, and it's more than his calm and resolute demeanor.
There's a great deal of power in him. That...that may present opportunities later.
But for now, focus remains on breaking through to the inner parts of the keep. Arching an eyebrow, he looks to the largest of their number -- Bull, was it? -- and gestures broadly at the doors. ]
If you'd be so kind.
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He looks to Bull, and the door, weak as it looks. The Qunari swings his arms back, ready to strike with his axe, and Lasulahn finds himself holding his breath.
The door gives way in a shower of splinters and broken, rotted planks. Cassandra and Blackwall are the first through, shields up, and Lasulahn follows close behind into the courtyard. ]
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There's one with a rather large greatsword eyeballing their stalwart leader, as they proceed into the keep. Before he can lunge at Lasulahn however, he suddenly chokes on the blade extruding from his throat, reddened eyes bulging.
Wrathion slips the blade free with a brief salute before heading off again, and the templar slumps face-first into the snow. ]
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Finds him again a few moments later by the sound of a gurgle and subsequent heavy clank and thud.
More Red Templars meet them at a staircase, two at the foot and an archer atop. Though the companions seem to form something of an instinctive circle around the Herald, an arrow narrowly misses him. Solas shields their position as Lasulahn focuses on Cole and the warriors up front. ]
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And he cuts a bloody path through them with his blades, lifted up as though on wings before darting forward with inhuman speed. It's not a matter of showing off to his new allies -- although he'd rarely spare the opportunity -- but rather cutting down their numbers as efficiently as possible. They don't have time to wonder where he even came from before he's making the expert cuts of a trained rogue, through the weakest points in their armor.
Just like Fahrad had taught him. ]
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Lasulahn casts a shield for the dragon, as little as he seems to need it. Perhaps it will serve for a while, without blows to test it. The stairs clear (save for corpses now, one of which Bull casually shoves off the side with his foot), the party ascends to find the next group waiting for them. ]
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Wrathion continues on his way, along the upper walkways of the keep, keeping low and watching out for anything trying to get the drop on them from above. But the next courtyard seems clear...
Until he sees the massive figures waiting almost in stupor on the path ahead.
Leaping downward with a grunt, he moves towards the main group. ]
Inquisitor. We've got very large friends waiting ahead of us. Perhaps there is opportunity here to lure them into a trap, rather than walking into one of theirs.
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He rushes forward to meet Wrathion, brow furrowing in concern. ] Red Templar Horrors, or something else? [ Small as Wrathion is now (compared to his dragon form, anyway), Lasulahn doesn't imagine that he might use 'very large' to describe horrors. Is there something else the Red Templars have managed to disfigure into? ]
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[ So it might be safe to assume whatever it is? It's on the side of the templars, and likely to simply attack them if they get too close. But whether or not it knows they're here is another question. ]</small. There's a cluster of tents up ahead. As well as what appear to be holding cells...what shall we do?
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"Giants," Bull grumbles, though in the next moment the Qunari grins and swings his axe onto his shoulder. His suggestion is just taking it head on, but the disapproval from several - most notable Cassandra and Solas - earns a sigh. ]
I- [ Lasulahn swallows, glancing between his fellows. He is growing more used to taking lead as is expected of him, though it is not always very easy. He forges ahead. ]
I think I can hold one, with the Anchor. Solas - can you bolster your magic with mine? And Dorian, Vivienne, if you can focus on numbing it with ice, that will give Cole and Wrathion chance to sever tendons. Don't panic it, Dorian. Any of us could be crushed under foot if it berserks.
Cassandra, Blackwall, set up a line to defend the mages and archers and keep its attention - Bull, take a position to the back in case it comes for the line. Varric, Sera, I'll depend on you to aim for it's vulnerabilities in its throat, eyes. [ It occurs to him, even though he knows this is an enemy, that it sounds cruel. But giants, if that's what this enemy is, are dangerous enough already. If it has been tainted, corrupted by the Red Lyrium.
He looks to Wrathion, Cole, and Sera in turn. ] You three are most fleet of foot... can you draw it towards us? Be careful, break away if it comes too close. If it fails, we can fall back again. Watch that it doesn't throw anything.
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[ Wrathion turns towards the two Lasulahn had mentioned -- the odd youth in the too-large hat and the disheveled-looking elf girl -- and nods in the direction he'd seen the creature. While Sera tries to peer ahead first, Cole seems to be staring at Wrathion with those strange milky eyes of his. ]
...Three hearts. But two stopped beating. You remember what it felt like when they took them apart to put you together, and you smile when you're sad because they shouldn't get to know.
[ Wrathion's cocky expression flickers for a moment. ]
I beg your pardon?
[ With a sigh, Sera pops back up again, giving Cole a disgusted look and rolling her eyes. ]
Don't mind him when he does that weird spirit shite. Just ignore 'im. He'll bother someone else eventually. Now c'mon! Bad guys aren't going to shank themselves. Too easy, that.
[ With a last dubious look at Cole, the three of them proceed onwards, in the direction he'd last seen the giant beast. ]
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Idly, he wonders what it meant, the three hearts. Had Wrathion lost someone? Parents, family perhaps? It is not his place to ask, but he thinks he might later offer an ear anyway.
The rumble of whatever the enemy is - and it is a giant, causes the ground to tremble. Nervousness grips Lasulahn, and he worries for his companions out of sight. Cassandra and Blackwall line together in front of him, shields forward and blades at the ready. Bull circles to the side, and Lasulahn can tell by his expression, even at a distance, and the way his head tips back to take in their enemy, that it must be a giant. ]
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And it is not happy.
Thankfully, it's slow. Unfortunately, it makes up for gaps in distance by reaching down for chunks of snow-covered rubble to hurl at the rogues making their escape. One manages to land in front of them just as they're nearly within sight of the party, and the spray of snow flies up in a mist that clouds their visibility for a moment.
Sera says something creative and likely biologically impossible the giant can go do instead, before firing off an arrow at the creature's eyes. Wrathion gestures for Cole to go before reaching a hand down to help Sera over the newly-formed obstacle in their path. They manage to leap off and tumble to the other side just as the giant smashes its huge fists down against the stone, with a force that shakes the ground around them. ]
I don't think he's very pleased with us, at the moment!
[ But it affords them time to split off, move to the side to let it pass towards the bulk of their party. Now they just need to wait, to let it move far enough to expose the weaker portions of its legs. Where the odd boy has gone to, he's not certain.
There are going to be questions about him. Later. ]
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It swings and lumbers towards them, and the Inquisitor draws a deep breath. The Anchor sparks and glows, and green wisps coalesce in the air, crackling with magic. A rift, like those that had sprung up all over Thedas, though smaller. It grows, though, and the giant stops, as though unable to progress. It roars, and Lasulahn thinks it sounds pained. The Red Lyrium jutting from its skin seems a likelier culprit than arrow.
The giant leans, tugging as though to pull away from Lasulahn's magic entirely, and his eyes widen in a moment of fear. Solas' own rift magic joins the Inquisitor, then, and the giant lurches, held once again in place. Frost crackles from the other mages, crawling up the beast's limbs. ]
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So Wrathion gives his a little more bite, the metal heating in his grip as he digs in and tears downward, earning a howl of fury and anguish from the beast. It's hardly its fault, he thinks, but as corrupted as it is bringing it down will be a mercy without question.
First, they need to bring it closer to the ground. ]
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Between Cole and Wrathion, the giant staggers. The Iron Bull seems to have the same idea as Wrathion, and circles to the front of it. He slings a chain that catches. He heaves, but even a Qunari's warrior's strength is little match for a Red Lyrium addled giant. Blackwall breaks line to assist. That does little.
Lasulahn lets go of the rift, and shift his spell. A great spectral force slams down onto the giant's back. It stumbles, but still, somehow, does not fall. ]
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This particular part of the keep might have enough clearance. Might. It's a risk, but they need to bring this thing down one way or another, and right now it looks like it might be another. Clucking his tongue, Wrathion draws back, earning a shout from Sera to ask where he was going.
The answer is up.
Leaping into the air, the man's figure disappears in a swirl of flame and ash. Moments later something much larger comes crashing through, the dragon's claws digging into the giant's back and dropping all of his weight down onto it. As the giant finally topples with a roar, it reaches back to seize hold of black scales, but as soon as it does that same strange smoke dissolves the figure away.
Wrathion leaps back to disengage, landing on the snow covered stones, brushing himself off lightly while the brute lands face-first at the feet of the rest of the party. ]
Well? What are you waiting for?
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Lasulahn looks for only a moment - the sight is awing, even a second time, but he must remain focused.
Sera tears her gaze away long enough to notice a small group of Red Templars coming for them. She calls a warning, and as the warriors fall upon the addled giant, Cole seems to disappear altogether - only to reappear when a Templar marksman falls forward, blood spilling from their neck. ]
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