[She repeats his name to commit it to memory. In fact, she repeats it several more times, muttering under her breath and counting fingers to do so.]
Alright then. I'm Amelia.
[Amelia Eva Steinbeck. She had never completely gave up her full name; it held with it her past life in the small Fereldan village, proof of her family and the care bestowed onto her. But as an apostate it was too heavy; it was information that could be used to track her down.
One name was enough.
She shifts her legs and proceeds to stand up.]
It's getting late. Get some sleep and I'll keep an eye out until dawn.
[He echoes her with a firm nod of confirmation; first names were often all anyone got or gave, especially among mages. The families they came from rarely mattered, at least here in Ferelden, and for apostates it was often a matter of safety.]
You'll need rest, as well.
[She's more than capable, she's more than proven that, but even the most capable mages can suffer from exhaustion.]
We'll take it in turns. You ought to sleep some before we depart in the morning. Neither of us can afford to be dead on our feet.
[The toss takes him by surprise, but he is able to catch it between his hands, even if he fumbles with it for a brief moment before he exhales, giving her a small, rueful smile as he uncaps the flash he's been given.]
Much appreciated. It's been an especially long day. Every bit helps, I assure you.
[Given what apostates go through in order to survive, he's sure she hardly needs reminding of that last bit.]
I don't mind taking the first watch. I— don't know that I would be able to sleep just now, anyway. Rather a lot on my mind, unsurprisingly.
[She nods again, this time with some understanding and sympathy.]
Well, since you insist... Far be it from me to tell you to not be a gentleman.
[Time to settle down then; the apostate won't unpack her bedroll and instead, spreads out her cloak and uses her pack as a pillow.]
Keep an eye out for any lights or smoke. We may come across some more mages setting up their own camp, random travelers, or at worst, templars who have forgone sleep to keep on hunting. If it's that last one, wake me up even if I grumble.
[It may very well be a vain hope; templars are everywhere they turn these days, and even considering the relatively short distance between Kinloch Hold and Redcliffe, templar sightings had become more and more frequent the deeper they ventured into the hinterlands. He is grateful for small mercies, especially that the journey was able to be made within a few days with so many young charges.]
It's not my first time traveling beyond the tower; you'll not need to worry about my jumping at shadows, at the very least. Should I see anything even remotely suspicious, I will prioritize our camp's safety. Let us hope the templars have also tired.
And I guess we're stuck together for the time being.
[And she closes her eyes almost immediately. Though her body remains tense and alert, Gale's presence and the guarantee of someone watching their backs was reassuring in a way she usually couldn't afford to indulge in. But there's still the next day to contend with...]
✨🎆✨
[When dawn breaks, Amelia is already up, smothering the remains of their campfire, and making a headcount of the young ones. Despite her brusqueness, the children seemed to be in awe of the apostate that had come to their rescue. And thus they readily listen to her instructions to line up so she can check their supplies.]
... And it's important to stay hydrated for the rest of the trip. We're near a brook, but we want to keep moving so make do with what you have left. This is the most traveling any of you done, so don't be surprised about the blisters on your feet. We can heal those when we get to Redcliffe.
[She's in the middle of brushing and tying back the hair of some of the girls while the boys keep an eye out or gather their belongings. One of them, who is a raring to go, raises a question:]
"Miss Apostate? When do we know we're at Redcliffe?"
[Amelia finishes the braid of the last girl and picks up her pack and staff as she responds.]
There are several signs. The windmill, the roar of the waterfall... But I wouldn't be surprised if the arl's soldiers, bearing his coat of arms, are there at the entrance to keep a lookout for us. Isn't that right, Gale?
[Morning comes, and Gale is quietly grateful for how thoroughly the brusque apostate has thrown herself into making sure their hastily assembled group makes it safely to Redcliffe. Breakfast is a brief and hurried affair, travel rations eaten hastily while breaking camp; they cannot afford to stay in one place for too long, and while Amelia assists some of the younger girls, Gale has put himself to work helping some of the older students in packing away bedrolls and some of the more unwieldy supplies.
He had just paused to reach for his own staff when their rescuer asks for his input, and he looks up before giving a careful smile, one that he has long practiced to be able to wear in front of the younger mages in times of distress in order to help maintain calm, level-heads.]
Exactly right. It's been some time since I visited Redcliffe myself, but the windmill is unmistakable, and the walls protecting the town are something to see themselves. When we're close, you'll know.
[Another of their charges, a young boy of about ten, looks a little pale even as he eagerly shoulders his pack, uneasy but anxious to leave.]
"You don't think any of the Arl's soldiers will try to turn us over to Templars, do you? What if things have changed?"
[Gale feels a pang of sympathy for the boy deep in his chest, but is warmly firm in his answer, shaking his head.]
Had anything changed, Grand Enchanter Fiona would have found a way to let us know. The Arl of Redcliffe has declared the town a safe refuge for mages.
She'll keep that remark to herself. Cynicism isn't motivational and to keep these young spirits up, they need all the hope they can get until they reach village.
When everything is packed up and all mages accounted for, Amelia immediately organizes the group.]
Younger ones in the front with Enchanter Dekarios.
[She only just guessed about that detail. He was a very skilled mage based on yesterday's encounter, holding out against the templars even when he was nearly drained.]
The oldest of you, hover in the middle or the back with me so we can keep the youngest moving along or pick them up if they start to tire.
[To Gale, she says:]
When we get to Redcliffe, it's probably best you do the talking with any acting authority figures. Knowing my luck, I end up starting more fights when I speak plainly.
[The remark is one he, too, had considered and kept to himself. While he has always considered himself an optimist, he is not without caution, and is very aware of the reality of their situation— and the likelihood that things could change at any time.
For now, Redcliffe was the best place for them.
The younger mages are quick to follow direction, eager to get to relative safety, and Gale offers their apostate aid a tight smile of thanks that does not quite reach his tired eyes— naturally, he remains worried, as anyone would be.]
I would be glad to handle any diplomatic endeavors; my background at the Circle might earn me the tiniest bit of favor with the Grand Enchanter, but I don't intend to lean on it. We are all of us apostates now.
[The Circle no longer remains, and seemed unlikely to return. Not anytime soon.]
Good to know, however, who to consult when it comes time for a more direct approach.
[There are times in which Amelia thinks she should be a more hopeful person, an unwavering optimist that could face hardship with a warm smile.
Well, as her friend Berna would put it, she could at least cheer the hell up. But she's Orlesian and in Orlais, smiles are weapons in of itself.
And so without remarking any further, the newly formed party begins the last leg of their journey. It's quiet at first; fear and caution blankets the younger mages, some with their eyes darting around with some paranoia. But within the next hour, with nothing but the chirping of birds and the bubbling water becoming louder, the children slowly relax, and begin to speak amongst themselves (they keep their volume low after one pointed glance from their apostate guide.)
Amelia will take a boring walk over more confrontation, but there is slight unease at how easy it seems. She's always on edge that way. Soon enough, the sound and sight of the water mill of Redcliffe is well within their sights, but before they approach the entrance, the apostate stops, frowning.]
Wait.
[She points to the gates where there's a lack of guards and inside the village, sounds of shouting and confusion.]
Where are the arl's men...?
[And then even more confusingly, there appears to be another party approaching the gates in a different direction. Amelia recognizes the suits of armor the soldiers are sporting and her eyes widen as she motions them to hide behind the trees and bushes, out of sight.]
[The quiet does not sit well with him, not with the way the Hinterlands have been dotted with mages and templars and militia alike these last several days, not to mention bandits looking to take advantage of the chaos. That uneasiness continues to grow until the walls and the water mill come into view, and even as Amelia makes her observation, he looks to her with a furrowed brow, his expression communicating that he, too, finds this to be supremely odd.]
I've never known the gate to be left—
[He doesn't get to finish his thought before the sounds of approaching hoofbeats and men in armor riding on horseback begin to approach from the east, and he swiftly turns to help herd his charges into hiding. Well-taught, most of them are already in motion before he says a word, and he steers one of the youngest by her shoulders as he crouches down behind the cluster of trees that would serve as their shield, exhaling as he observes the incoming caravan.
Denerim. There's no mistaking the crest, and as one rider in golden armor emerges from the crowd to ride ahead towards the open gate, he feels his breath catch.]
Amelia sputters and swears under her breath, crouching even lower. The current Arl of Redcliffe and the king were related, yes, but something of utmost urgency must have occurred for him and his entourage to come down to the village. Was it a meeting with the Grand Enchanter? But there were no Redcliffe guards and there was confused chaos coming from within.
Before any of the children can speak up and ask, she puts a finger to her lips, trying to listen in on the Denerim soldiers after the king gives his orders.]
"You heard his Majesty. We'll take a few men and make our way to the castle. Do you understand your position?"
"Understood! We are to calm the populace and contain them within the walls for the next several hours. No villagers or apostates can leave until King Alistair speaks with the Grand Enchanter and the Tevinter Magister!"
[Green eyes widen at the mention of Tevinter and one of their magisters at that. She meets Gale's gaze just for a second to see if he's feeling the same way as she does, overwhelmed with the new information and its implications. She sucks in a breath and continues to listen.
The soldiers that remain behind after the king rides on ahead begin to organize and chat amongst themselves as they secure the gate.]
"Right sort of mess this is..."
"Letting in Vints into Ferelden? I know the mages are desperate, but his Majesty is too generous if you ask me and look where it's got us."
[Ever on the alert, Amelia sharpens her focus on the soldiers and the gate, trying to consider their options amidst all the newer factors. Tevinter's involvement in Ferelden mage politics does not sound promising and based on her past experience, there's only one group she knows of and has confronted its members in the past that would stir up trouble in this specific instance.
Venatori.
Shit.
The sneaky and treacherous bastards would try to prey on the desperate mages of Ferelden. And although the Denerim soldiers were securing the village, she wouldn't be surprised if one of them tried to slip away and...]
Gale.
[She points to what has just caught her gaze. One "soldier" approaching the gate. His armor looks somewhat ill-fit as if he rushed to put it on and his helmet completely covers his face, muffling his voice as he awkwardly greets the others, making an excuse that the king sent him back.]
The name itself sent ice through his veins, a reaction that had been ingrained in him since his youth despite the fact that he was actually more open-minded than most people were like to be— as an academic as well as a mage, it was impossible not to be curious about the history and politics of the Imperium, where mages were said to rule, but the role Tevinter had played in Ferelden's own history and certain well-known practices meant that dealings with the people of the Imperium was, to say the least, frowned upon.
He exhales, his breath a low hiss. The southern mages were desperate enough in these trying times that he could see them being taken for an easy mark, and unfortunately, those who would exploit them might well be right.
He listens to every word they can possibly overhear as intently as possible, but he still responds immediately upon Amelia's bid for his attention, following her gesture and giving a firm nod of confirmation the moment his gaze falls on the soldier in question.]
Stands out a bit, doesn't he.
[Without question, a suspicious figure.]
I'll do one better.
[A few arcane gestures are all it takes to summon a spectral orb that hovers before them, roughly the size of his fist, and he nods towards the "soldier" Amelia had pointed out to give the eye its directive— the orb starts in the suspicious figure's direction, fading from view entirely just after it emerges from the trees, allowing it to do its work unseen.]
[Amelia holds her breath as Gale summons his orb and has it follow their suspicious soldier. She exhales softly, frustrated. Redcliffe was supposed to be a reprieve for them, but instead the unknown factors are standing in her way.]
If he is what I think he is, there might be an outside contact.
[Their "soldier" has somehow made it past, having been given the excuse to pick up supplies and make sure no outsiders can move past him. His pace is study as to not arouse suspicion while the real soldier's eyes are on him.]
Do you know about the Venatori?
[Her voice is low, but she's starting to shift her position, hand gripping her staff on her back.]
[Gale's expression darkens, though his focus never wavers, his concentration on his spell remaining even as he notes Amelia reaching for her staff beside him.
Good. They should be ready, should anything go further awry.]
Tevinter mages who have very strong opinions about returning to the old way of things.
[It is, to say the least, a gentle and generous description. The group is still fairly new, but quickly gaining strength and influence. There were plenty of southern mages who didn't give it much thought, didn't think it concerned anyone beyond the Imperium's borders, but Gale is certain he knows better.]
Don't be too hasty. Pursue if necessary, but we should be able to monitor from a safe distance— for a time. You handle yourself well, but I don't believe tangling with a potential Venatori agent will behoove either of us, not to mention our charges.
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sunfloras2025-06-04 06:42 pm
no subject
[She repeats his name to commit it to memory. In fact, she repeats it several more times, muttering under her breath and counting fingers to do so.]
Alright then. I'm Amelia.
[Amelia Eva Steinbeck. She had never completely gave up her full name; it held with it her past life in the small Fereldan village, proof of her family and the care bestowed onto her. But as an apostate it was too heavy; it was information that could be used to track her down.
One name was enough.
She shifts her legs and proceeds to stand up.]
It's getting late. Get some sleep and I'll keep an eye out until dawn.
no subject
[He echoes her with a firm nod of confirmation; first names were often all anyone got or gave, especially among mages. The families they came from rarely mattered, at least here in Ferelden, and for apostates it was often a matter of safety.]
You'll need rest, as well.
[She's more than capable, she's more than proven that, but even the most capable mages can suffer from exhaustion.]
We'll take it in turns. You ought to sleep some before we depart in the morning. Neither of us can afford to be dead on our feet.
no subject
That's fine then. In that case...
[She rummages through her pack that was placed next to her and fishes out a vial of...]
Lyrium potion. It's not much, but you should replenish yourself.
[And she tosses it. Catch it, Gale!]
no subject
Much appreciated. It's been an especially long day. Every bit helps, I assure you.
[Given what apostates go through in order to survive, he's sure she hardly needs reminding of that last bit.]
I don't mind taking the first watch. I— don't know that I would be able to sleep just now, anyway. Rather a lot on my mind, unsurprisingly.
no subject
Well, since you insist... Far be it from me to tell you to not be a gentleman.
[Time to settle down then; the apostate won't unpack her bedroll and instead, spreads out her cloak and uses her pack as a pillow.]
Keep an eye out for any lights or smoke. We may come across some more mages setting up their own camp, random travelers, or at worst, templars who have forgone sleep to keep on hunting. If it's that last one, wake me up even if I grumble.
no subject
[It may very well be a vain hope; templars are everywhere they turn these days, and even considering the relatively short distance between Kinloch Hold and Redcliffe, templar sightings had become more and more frequent the deeper they ventured into the hinterlands. He is grateful for small mercies, especially that the journey was able to be made within a few days with so many young charges.]
It's not my first time traveling beyond the tower; you'll not need to worry about my jumping at shadows, at the very least. Should I see anything even remotely suspicious, I will prioritize our camp's safety. Let us hope the templars have also tired.
a little time jump
[Amelia yawns as she and lays her head down.]
And I guess we're stuck together for the time being.
[And she closes her eyes almost immediately. Though her body remains tense and alert, Gale's presence and the guarantee of someone watching their backs was reassuring in a way she usually couldn't afford to indulge in. But there's still the next day to contend with...]
[When dawn breaks, Amelia is already up, smothering the remains of their campfire, and making a headcount of the young ones. Despite her brusqueness, the children seemed to be in awe of the apostate that had come to their rescue. And thus they readily listen to her instructions to line up so she can check their supplies.]
... And it's important to stay hydrated for the rest of the trip. We're near a brook, but we want to keep moving so make do with what you have left. This is the most traveling any of you done, so don't be surprised about the blisters on your feet. We can heal those when we get to Redcliffe.
[She's in the middle of brushing and tying back the hair of some of the girls while the boys keep an eye out or gather their belongings. One of them, who is a raring to go, raises a question:]
"Miss Apostate? When do we know we're at Redcliffe?"
[Amelia finishes the braid of the last girl and picks up her pack and staff as she responds.]
There are several signs. The windmill, the roar of the waterfall... But I wouldn't be surprised if the arl's soldiers, bearing his coat of arms, are there at the entrance to keep a lookout for us. Isn't that right, Gale?
no subject
He had just paused to reach for his own staff when their rescuer asks for his input, and he looks up before giving a careful smile, one that he has long practiced to be able to wear in front of the younger mages in times of distress in order to help maintain calm, level-heads.]
Exactly right. It's been some time since I visited Redcliffe myself, but the windmill is unmistakable, and the walls protecting the town are something to see themselves. When we're close, you'll know.
[Another of their charges, a young boy of about ten, looks a little pale even as he eagerly shoulders his pack, uneasy but anxious to leave.]
"You don't think any of the Arl's soldiers will try to turn us over to Templars, do you? What if things have changed?"
[Gale feels a pang of sympathy for the boy deep in his chest, but is warmly firm in his answer, shaking his head.]
Had anything changed, Grand Enchanter Fiona would have found a way to let us know. The Arl of Redcliffe has declared the town a safe refuge for mages.
no subject
She'll keep that remark to herself. Cynicism isn't motivational and to keep these young spirits up, they need all the hope they can get until they reach village.
When everything is packed up and all mages accounted for, Amelia immediately organizes the group.]
Younger ones in the front with Enchanter Dekarios.
[She only just guessed about that detail. He was a very skilled mage based on yesterday's encounter, holding out against the templars even when he was nearly drained.]
The oldest of you, hover in the middle or the back with me so we can keep the youngest moving along or pick them up if they start to tire.
[To Gale, she says:]
When we get to Redcliffe, it's probably best you do the talking with any acting authority figures. Knowing my luck, I end up starting more fights when I speak plainly.
no subject
For now, Redcliffe was the best place for them.
The younger mages are quick to follow direction, eager to get to relative safety, and Gale offers their apostate aid a tight smile of thanks that does not quite reach his tired eyes— naturally, he remains worried, as anyone would be.]
I would be glad to handle any diplomatic endeavors; my background at the Circle might earn me the tiniest bit of favor with the Grand Enchanter, but I don't intend to lean on it. We are all of us apostates now.
[The Circle no longer remains, and seemed unlikely to return. Not anytime soon.]
Good to know, however, who to consult when it comes time for a more direct approach.
no subject
Well, as her friend Berna would put it, she could at least cheer the hell up. But she's Orlesian and in Orlais, smiles are weapons in of itself.
And so without remarking any further, the newly formed party begins the last leg of their journey. It's quiet at first; fear and caution blankets the younger mages, some with their eyes darting around with some paranoia. But within the next hour, with nothing but the chirping of birds and the bubbling water becoming louder, the children slowly relax, and begin to speak amongst themselves (they keep their volume low after one pointed glance from their apostate guide.)
Amelia will take a boring walk over more confrontation, but there is slight unease at how easy it seems. She's always on edge that way. Soon enough, the sound and sight of the water mill of Redcliffe is well within their sights, but before they approach the entrance, the apostate stops, frowning.]
Wait.
[She points to the gates where there's a lack of guards and inside the village, sounds of shouting and confusion.]
Where are the arl's men...?
[And then even more confusingly, there appears to be another party approaching the gates in a different direction. Amelia recognizes the suits of armor the soldiers are sporting and her eyes widen as she motions them to hide behind the trees and bushes, out of sight.]
Those are... They're from Denerim.
[Looks like the monarchy is in town!]
no subject
I've never known the gate to be left—
[He doesn't get to finish his thought before the sounds of approaching hoofbeats and men in armor riding on horseback begin to approach from the east, and he swiftly turns to help herd his charges into hiding. Well-taught, most of them are already in motion before he says a word, and he steers one of the youngest by her shoulders as he crouches down behind the cluster of trees that would serve as their shield, exhaling as he observes the incoming caravan.
Denerim. There's no mistaking the crest, and as one rider in golden armor emerges from the crowd to ride ahead towards the open gate, he feels his breath catch.]
Is that— King Alistair?
[Apparently, all roads lead to Redcliffe.]
no subject
Amelia sputters and swears under her breath, crouching even lower. The current Arl of Redcliffe and the king were related, yes, but something of utmost urgency must have occurred for him and his entourage to come down to the village. Was it a meeting with the Grand Enchanter? But there were no Redcliffe guards and there was confused chaos coming from within.
Before any of the children can speak up and ask, she puts a finger to her lips, trying to listen in on the Denerim soldiers after the king gives his orders.]
"You heard his Majesty. We'll take a few men and make our way to the castle. Do you understand your position?"
"Understood! We are to calm the populace and contain them within the walls for the next several hours. No villagers or apostates can leave until King Alistair speaks with the Grand Enchanter and the Tevinter Magister!"
[Green eyes widen at the mention of Tevinter and one of their magisters at that. She meets Gale's gaze just for a second to see if he's feeling the same way as she does, overwhelmed with the new information and its implications. She sucks in a breath and continues to listen.
The soldiers that remain behind after the king rides on ahead begin to organize and chat amongst themselves as they secure the gate.]
"Right sort of mess this is..."
"Letting in Vints into Ferelden? I know the mages are desperate, but his Majesty is too generous if you ask me and look where it's got us."
[Ever on the alert, Amelia sharpens her focus on the soldiers and the gate, trying to consider their options amidst all the newer factors. Tevinter's involvement in Ferelden mage politics does not sound promising and based on her past experience, there's only one group she knows of and has confronted its members in the past that would stir up trouble in this specific instance.
Venatori.
Shit.
The sneaky and treacherous bastards would try to prey on the desperate mages of Ferelden. And although the Denerim soldiers were securing the village, she wouldn't be surprised if one of them tried to slip away and...]
Gale.
[She points to what has just caught her gaze. One "soldier" approaching the gate. His armor looks somewhat ill-fit as if he rushed to put it on and his helmet completely covers his face, muffling his voice as he awkwardly greets the others, making an excuse that the king sent him back.]
Keep an eye on that one.
no subject
The name itself sent ice through his veins, a reaction that had been ingrained in him since his youth despite the fact that he was actually more open-minded than most people were like to be— as an academic as well as a mage, it was impossible not to be curious about the history and politics of the Imperium, where mages were said to rule, but the role Tevinter had played in Ferelden's own history and certain well-known practices meant that dealings with the people of the Imperium was, to say the least, frowned upon.
He exhales, his breath a low hiss. The southern mages were desperate enough in these trying times that he could see them being taken for an easy mark, and unfortunately, those who would exploit them might well be right.
He listens to every word they can possibly overhear as intently as possible, but he still responds immediately upon Amelia's bid for his attention, following her gesture and giving a firm nod of confirmation the moment his gaze falls on the soldier in question.]
Stands out a bit, doesn't he.
[Without question, a suspicious figure.]
I'll do one better.
[A few arcane gestures are all it takes to summon a spectral orb that hovers before them, roughly the size of his fist, and he nods towards the "soldier" Amelia had pointed out to give the eye its directive— the orb starts in the suspicious figure's direction, fading from view entirely just after it emerges from the trees, allowing it to do its work unseen.]
Let's see where he goes, shall we?
no subject
If he is what I think he is, there might be an outside contact.
[Their "soldier" has somehow made it past, having been given the excuse to pick up supplies and make sure no outsiders can move past him. His pace is study as to not arouse suspicion while the real soldier's eyes are on him.]
Do you know about the Venatori?
[Her voice is low, but she's starting to shift her position, hand gripping her staff on her back.]
If he starts to run, I'm going to jump him.
no subject
Good. They should be ready, should anything go further awry.]
Tevinter mages who have very strong opinions about returning to the old way of things.
[It is, to say the least, a gentle and generous description. The group is still fairly new, but quickly gaining strength and influence. There were plenty of southern mages who didn't give it much thought, didn't think it concerned anyone beyond the Imperium's borders, but Gale is certain he knows better.]
Don't be too hasty. Pursue if necessary, but we should be able to monitor from a safe distance— for a time. You handle yourself well, but I don't believe tangling with a potential Venatori agent will behoove either of us, not to mention our charges.
[Well. His charges, he supposes.]