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[Armand Du Vernay]

(Closed to all but Armand Du Vernay, Asari, Danneth Heartwell, Rob Black, and Canus. Everyone feel free to jump in. Anyone else PM Armand to request to join if you so desire and we'll do our best to work you in.)

“You ‘ad better make good on our deal, Orlesian,” warned the large, portly mercenary clad in leather armor as he nervously paced back and fourth on the dirt road.

“Shut it Moriarty,” Armand snapped as he leaned against a rocky outcropping. Arms crossed and face blanketed by a scowl, he was fairly certain that Moriarty was not the man’s real name but that did not matter. What did matter was the pay this man was offering from his so-called employer. “They will be here.”

Armand may have been strapped for gold but the upfront pay of fifty sovereigns for finding a crew plus an additional three hundred each for the team that he gathered.

“We don’t ‘av time ta be sittin’ around like dis,” Moriarty almost shook with his nervous impatience. Armand recognized a distinct fear in the man’s eyes, something important to him clearly hinged on the prompt success of this mission.

“Moriarty my good man,” Armand stood up and draped an arm over his contact’s shoulders. “You need not worry. I take pride in my work, especially when a maiden is involved.”

“Yeah, whateva’,” Moriarty shrugged him off, not comfortable with the joviality.

“You need to relax, stress solves nothing,” Armand stretched his arms over his head, deeply breathing in the crisp air of the Wounded Coast. Hearing a noise, he turned his head to look back up the trail toward Kirkwall to see the three men he had recruited for Moriarty’s mission making their way down the road. “See, here they come now…”

[Canus]

((OOC: Facts on the Qunari written out in this post may be inaccurate; it's what Canus has gleamed from his discoveries))

Why is it, when the Tal'Vashoth are involved, I'm around? thought the amused kossith as he made his way to the place Armand had specified. Of course, this time, he'd signed up for it. Armand had mentioned it to him, and Canus had been quite interested. His presence would no doubt be useful in dealing with them, even though he still hardly understood Qunari or Tal'Vashoth. It was a different way of thinking that he couldn't quite grasp. Though the Ben-Hassrath had answered a few of his questions, and Nirmoh was knowledgeable of -- and hateful towards, with good reason -- their ways, their Qun.

The Qun dictated order, gave every person a place and a role. Gave them a weapon which was considered their soul. The Qun dictated their life, and everything that they did. The Tal'Vashoth, however, refused that path, refused all of it. Some devolved into chaos, others retained a Qun-like structure within their bands. Canus had been born of Tal'Vashoth. The band he knew little of, except that it had been exterminated by the Imperial Legion when he was just a child. But maybe his experiences with those of his race would help in this endeavor. And of course, he wasn't as distracted as Armand about the women...

For Armand -- in bringing it up to him -- had been more interested in the fact that it was a lady who needed rescuing. Typical of the fellow, if you knew him, which Canus did. He didn't know what was so enticing about people -- whether male or female -- but Armand was easy on the eyes, and the kossith wouldn't be surprised if he did manage to persuade a woman to have sex with him. (That was why he liked ladies, wasn't it? Was all this need for sex a human thing?) He probably had, plenty of times, in his past.

Seeing the figures along the path, he snapped out of his musings. As he got closer, he recognised Armand, and relaxed. They weren't bandits, raiders, Tal'Vashoth, or anything else he needed to worry about. You never knew who or what you'd run into out here. He waved, approaching the two, one of which he didn't recognise. "Armand," he said with a warm smile. His gaze moved to the mercenary. "And you are? I'm Canus, of Tevinter." He felt no shame in being from the Imperium -- after all, that was where he was from.

[Rob Black]

How did I get roped into this one? questioned the hesitant Rob. He didn't really know any details about his employer. He knew more about the man who referred him than this Armand, and he only worked with him two times during his time with the Red Iron.

He's heard some good things about Emil, so he trusts that Armand is a decent enough guy. He really can't use Danneth as a judge of the mans character, especially after the whole Nava thing. But at least he knows he has trustworthy, if naive, friend with him.

But this Qunari....that...was something else entirely. He heard of their...what was it again? Rhabdophobia? He might be better off fighting alongside a Templar. At least they'll try to capture him. This qunari might try to kill him! But...Qunari don't usually take up mercenary work. This looks like it's going to be an...let's call it an interesting day.

When he saw the Qunari not only wave, but smile, he almost lost it. That's the most positive facial expression he's seen from any of the Qunari in the docks district. Then he gave a greeting to the mercenary accompanying Armand. That didn't sound like a Qunari title. And...did he say Tevinter? "Woah, woah woah. Canus, was it? Did you say your from Tevinter? Not Par Vollen? So...your not with the Qunari in the docks district?"

[Danneth Heartwell]

Danneth walked down the road alongside the two, both of which he had worked with and knew were on good terms. Canus wasn't part of the Tal-Vashoth but had no connection to the clan that was involved today, and Rob was an acquaintance from the month before. Both were capable fighters and Danneth knew he could trust them to their word, but in the back of his mind he was praising the Maker that Bron Rellic hadn’t taken the job as well, the old Mercenary couldn’t be trusted as long as the time it takes for a Drunken Dwarf to start a bar fight.

The tails on his Duster flapped in the wind, underneath his Veridum armor shined in the sun and the high collared red shirt underneath gave a strong contrast to his dark beard, something else he and the guy who put him up for the job had in common. Armand was popular in the underground, mostly with the ladies though, and it was clear Danneth was dealing with a kindred spirit. Before coming, Danneth asked his contacts for as much information about Armand and found out that he was Orleasian, an Archer, and son of Nobles who treated everyone else like Mabari Shit. “Atleast we’ll get along well together” Danneth thought as they came down one last stretch of road to meet Armand and their employer, a man everyone on Danneth’s list had no clue as to who he was.

To his left, Canus waved at the two to show they weren’t bandits. "Armand," he said with a smile, a rare sight for a Qunari, however his next statement was directed to the portly fellow that was their employer. "And you are? I'm Canus, of Tevinter."

"Woah, woah woah. Canus, was it? Did you say your from Tevinter? Not Par Vollen? So... you’re not with the Qunari in the docks district?" Rob asked, Danneth almost laughed at the statement, but could understand his confusion, at first before last month Danneth thought all the Tal-Vashoth on the coast were one big band but were rather smaller groups that cause a lot of trouble.

“You think every Qunari… er, Kosseth, on this coast came with the Arishok? Trust me mate, it’s a wide, wide world.” Turning toward Armand, he extended his hand and introduced himself. “Danneth Heartwell, I take it your Armand judging by the description that my contacts put on you.” He said with a warm smile, hopefully Danneth’s making a better First Impression than he did with Tal and the other Qunari from the month before.

This post has been edited by Danneth Heartwell on Dec 7 2011, 08:25 PM

[Asari]

She couldn't believe that they'd chained her to a box.

Well...that wasn't entirely true. Given that the box was really a massive crate loaded with stolen supplies (or were they merely 'procured'?) from the wrecked Qunari ships just beyond the next sandbar, it was quite logical to shackle her to it. It easily weighed as much as a yearling dathrasi and was just as stubborn.

They at least could have given her more chain.

Asari kicked at the sandy ground of the ruin, the heavy chain jangling as she tried to reach for the small satchel lying underneath the Tevinter marble arch. How was she supposed to accomplish anything being so separated from her own supplies?

A rough hand grabbed her by the back of the neck and threw her back against the crate. Her jaw hit against it, hard, and she could feel her teeth jarring together. She was very fortunate that she hadn't bitten down on her tongue. Points of light flashing around her vision, she glared through the pain at the one that had shoved her.

Tall and broad with broken horns, the rankless one had deemed himself in charge of whatever operation this was. He had silver-violet eyes that were icy and calculating. He eyed her up and down, taking in the dusty tatters of her physician's robes, the stained bodice where the emblem of the House of Tides was embroidered on either shoulder. He had taken the belt that marked her as Tamassran. Where he kept it, she didn't know, but he felt it gave him complete dominion over her.

"And what's our little wench trying to do, eh?" he asked, purposely giving his voice the grating timbre of a basra sea rogue. "Escape?"

"You wouldn't know the meaning of the word," Asari replied through clenched teeth. She wasn't aiming for intimidation. In fact, it simply hurt too much to work her jaw.

"And what would you call it, then?" His hands were on his hips as he kicked out, striking her in the abdomen and bringing her to her hands and knees. "Working that chain ain't exactly making music."

Asari gagged on something while she tried to find her breath. What is was, she didn't know. She hadn't eaten in at least two days, and a good portion of that time had been spent unconscious. She peered along the ground to where the chain connected her ankle to the wooden crate, seeing if she'd done any damage at all to her boxy anchor. Not even a splinter. Hurting and breathless, she let her head collapse to the ground atop her arms, the entire length of her body going limp.

"That's what I thought," the nameless one said, his tone almost mocking. "You just rest your pretty little head, viddathlok vashedan. I hear your new handler doesn't mind you bruised...but he certainly doesn't want you broken. Can't have you making me step over the edge, now, can we?"

[Armand Du Vernay]

"Hello my friend," Armand nodded to Canus before turning to the other archer. "Indeed I am Armand," he took a bow, "at your service. I assume that you are the one called Danneth and that you are Serrah Robert," he nodded to the mage as well.

(Armand pronounces Rob's name as ro-bear with his accent)

With the three men present at last, Moriarty only became more pushy, "Good, good, let's get goin'," he practically tried to shove Armand out of his way.

"Your incessant nagging is getting on my nerves Moriarty, you sound like a tavern wench at the height of her cycle," he stepped past the fidgeting hireling.

Though Armand had never been this far east along the Wounded Coast he had visited the shore many times in his youth and several times while among the Dalish. Sometimes he had even fancied taking up the life of a brigand or a pirate until he learned of his own intense sea-sickness the hard way. That captain's daughter had not been too happy with him ruining her favorite dress.

Despite these reservations about the open sea, the smell of the salt air and the cool breeze felt good to him, his spirits were high that this mission would be a success.

"Very funny, maybe now we can get ta da details," said Moriarty, crossing his arms with a scowl. "My employer is very, VERY eager to have the woman being held by the Tal-Vashoth brought safely back to him. Ya each will get 300 sovereigns for gettin' her outta dair and another fifty each for her journal. If any of ya die, the rest don't get yer share," he handed a rolled up scroll to Armand. "This is a map 'o da Wounded Coast near Kirkwall with the Tal-Vashoth base marked. My employer says dat thar are about sixteen Tal-Vashoth livin' dair. Any questions?"

[Canus]

((OOC: If Rob doesn't have his staff with him, let me know)).

Canus nodded. He got this a lot. People thinking he was Qunari, or Tal'Vashoth, while he was neither. It was hard for people to grasp that a horned, grey-skinned man was not a Qunari. Danneth and Canus seemed to be running into Canus a lot lately, and he explained his response to the brown-haired man's question well. The kossith added, "I was neither raised by Qunari nor Tal'Vashoth. So I'm neither. This, what I am, is called kossith." And freedom felt great. "Seems when Tal'Vashoth and Qunari are involved, though, I tend to be there. The Maker has an odd sense of humor."

He looked the man over. Not all mages carried staves, and sometimes people who were not mages fought with non-magical staves. This, however, was extremely rare, most likely associated with the taboo placed upon the type of weapon. It was most likely this man was a mage -- what the Chantry here and the authorities -- would call an apostate. Canus bore no ill will towards him, but if he turned out to be a blood mage, he would waste no time in turning him in to the templars later on. If not, the man had nothing to worry about and could even count on Canus.

If captured by the Tal'Vashoth, however, the apostate's fate might be much worse than that of those imprisoned in the Gallows. He would not bring that up, though.

The man's name was revealed by Armand as Robare. Or something like that. Hard to determine with the rogue's thick accent. He was amusingly insulting towards Moriarty, which the man seemed to ignore. Then came the directions. Flaming sword of mercy! the astounded kossith thought. Whoever was hiring them was filthy rich. Probably a family member of the girl. With that amount of money, he'd be able to purchase a house, furniture, food for a lifetime, and still have some left over. "Let me get this straight...you said 300 sovereigns for getting her out alive?" He was still awash in disbelief, and it reflected in his voice. "Each? Or between each of us?"

That was, if the girl was even alive. Or if he got out alive. There was a chance that -- as there was on any mission -- Canus could die. And he knew this.

[Rob Black]

"Blame the education system of the Starkhaven Circle. They are so concerned that you might accidentally kill several dozen people that they don't teach you much about the world. Sorry for my ignorance, Canus, but the only Qunari I've met are either squatting in the Docks or attacking people in the Wounded Coast."

His attention turned to Canus, he noticed that he was being looked over. He felt slightly awkward about it, barely noticing the mention of 300 sovereigns. He caught him looked at his staff, and closed his eyes. "Yes, I'm a mage, no I'm not a blood mage. I don't have the constitution to be cutting myself and using my blood against my opponents. I specialize in force magic. Danneth and half of the old furniture in the Hanged Man can vouch for me."

Rob walked towards the nearest rock face and leaned against it. This was time he'd rather spend sleeping, but the money was too much to pass up, even split 5 ways was 60 sovereigns more than than he had before. Once the question and answer phase was over, it was time to get the fighting out of the way.

[Danneth Heartwell]

Danneth was beginning to like this Armand fellow, he looked, acted, and talked like him… if Danneth would have been born Orlesian that is. Danneth kept quiet during the idle chatter between each of his new team-mate. Now as their second hand employer gave them their over-view for the mission, Danneth nearly fainted at the offer for 300 Sovereigns! It was almost too good to be true. “Hold up mate, 300 Sovereigns! First, who’s the employer and second who did they take?"

After saying that, his head began to spin… only three kinds of people could sling out that much gold, High Nobilty, Qunari, and Slavers. Shivering at the thought, Danneth listened to what the others had to say, he almost threw up because of the tension. He took the map and looked over the location, thank the maker it didn’t run past Ari’s place and wasn’t near any other Tal-Vashoth Danneth had any relation to aside from slinging a few arrows into them. So now that he knew the location, pay, and general mission, Danneth took the time to adjust his armor straps, and he looked to Armand, “So, I’m here to take care of a favor between me, Rob, and Cannus. What’s your stake in this, mate?”

[Asari]

Asari wasn't sure how long she'd been out. It could have been a minute...but it could easily have been an hour. A fire was crackling nearby, some of the Tal-Vashoth rebels sitting around it, talking lowly amongst themselves and roasting small game they'd caught in the area. They also shared a few bottles of something. Some sort of alcohol most likely that was anything other than the sweet fruit wines of the north. Basra were insistent on making themselves even less capable and tolerable than they already were. If they could get that way via drinking, the more the better. Chances were strong that the sour liquid in those bottles was the strongest available.

The female grunted just a little as she pushed herself into a sitting position, her back collapsing wearily against her weighty anchor of a crate. Even if they were roasting bilge rats, Asari couldn't deny how hungry the smell of smoking meat made her...even if it lacked the spices of Par Vollen. Even if there was no cinnamon tea to wash it down with.

Her stomach growled like a ravenous beast, and she clamped her arms down hard over it to not only suppress the sound but try to bury the feeling itself.

No one had noticed but her. The others kept to their cookfires, their enviable meals. Even the hard liquor started to seem like a paradise in comparison to her present condition. But out of a dozen Tal-Vashoth males, none saw fit to even acknowledge her presence still among them let alone give her a scrap of food. There was no sign of their rankless leader, and chances were strong that he had taken a few others to either raid hapless passerby or merely keep guard over the camp's boundaries.

Asari couldn't say she missed him.

[Armand Du Vernay]

"300 EACH," said Moriarty again, "it's probably a damn lot more den any o' ya have ever seen," he crossed his arms, listening to Danneth's questions about the details of their mission. "Dat more den generous payment be so dat questions like yours stay unanswered, aye?"

"Believe me serrah," Armand spoke up to help alleviate Danneth's concerns, "I already tried to get more out of him but for 300 sovereigns I am willing to make due. My stake, as you say, is simply the very real need to eat, no?" It had been a few days since Armand had had a decent meal beyond bread and some old cheese that would have made his mother cry.

Casually taking the map back from Danneth and rolling it out on the rock next to Rob, Armand began making plans. "I may not be overly familiar with the coastline here but breaking and entering I can do," he grinned. "Moriarty described the Tal-Vasoth compound to me when I first took the job and out best bet is here," he pointed to a large, rocky outcropping to the Northeast of the camp. "After taking out any sentries, Danneth, Rob, and myself can attack from the high ground to pacify as many of the brutes, no offense Canus, as possible before getting in. Normally I would prefer a more stealthy approach but removing potential threats early on would be safer with this many enemies."

Rolling up the map he continued to elaborate on his plan. "Once we take out the main group we will split up into two groups, Canus and Rob and Danneth and Myself to search the compound for our target. She will be a prisoner and likely secured, thus having Canus and myself in separate groups will help should the need for lock-picking arise."

"Aye, when you find her, ya'll know it by the robes. White and violet," said Moriarty. "Otherwise, come and fine me right 'ear when ya got'er if'en ya want yer gold."