It was the third day since the party had eaten a hot meal.
The fifth day since they left the Inquisition encampment on the beach, where they resupplied quickly without stopping.
The sixth day since they'd last seen the Storm's Solitude campsite upon arriving at the natural northern border.
Seven days of being soaked to the bone by the never ending rains that drench the lands near the Storm Coast.
Nine days had passed from when they left the smelly inn at Lake Calenhad far behind.
Eleven days prior, the pack mule had been killed by a stray Sylvan, the demon-possessed tree took offense to the braying animal and they were forced to carry the supplies on their own backs.
Fourteen days since an Inquisition runner had delivered a letter to Tempest from Lady Josephine which she promptly crumpled up and tossed in the fire, without reading.
It was the fifteenth day since they crossed out of the aptly named Frostback Mountains and eighteen days since Tempest had stormed out of Skyhold with her party in tow.
Lastly, less than one hour since a courier from the southernmost Inquisition camp found them. He was a new recruit and Tempest could not remember his name though she herself had been there for his swearing in, he had made his oath on his knees before her. He was just one of many that day as the fealty oath was done in groups of dozens, silently each would come forward thump his fist to his own heart, then rejoin their unit. The signal according to Leliana once stood for the literal act expected by a traitor, when captured the ancient Nevarran would be expected to publicly stab himself through the heart, so that his family could retain some honor.
She was better with faces than she was with names, even more so now with the sheer size their army. When Cullen told her she didn't have to be there for the mind numbing task, she told her Commander she had to do this, at least to honor their courage. Even knowing she had been there, she was unable to even say which unit he belonged to. The young man was covered in mud up to his elbows and knees. He was babbling, incomprehensibly, but one phrase stood out. "Scout Captain Harding! Mudslide!"
Tempest grabbed the lad by his damp hood and started to shake him, as if it would cause the tall boy to produce a better report then what he was currently blathering off. Those four words made her heart race in her chest, mudslide? Why? How? Where? Each question and accompanying shake was meet with only wide teary terror filled eyes and silence. If anyone was trapped each second could mean life or death, she had no time to coach him down from his fears.
"Hey Boss, why don't I try to get more out of him." Bull said as he stepped carefully closer to the Inquisitor. Her ashen face and white-knuckled grip on the green recruit warned him of the danger that the little Dwarven rogue posed, if he surprised her in this state of mind. It hadn't taken him long after he signed on to figure out the short redhead's triggers, or more accurately to watch for the inevitable fight she would start. Once she loosened up about the whole Inquisition thing and they had shared a few drinks, he'd learned the whys.
"Now I do admit that it is a unique way to garner information, Inquisitor. However I believe Bull might get it out of him quicker, and with his neck unbroken." Dorian grinned at his own pun as the Inquisitor continued to shake the poor recruit, ignoring both men.
"Inquisitor?" Solas said softly as he placed his hand on her heaving shoulder. "Tempest, if he were to speak as you are shaking him so, he would run the risk of biting off his own tongue, and if that were to happen we would never get the very information you seek."
At some point during Solas' lecture Tempest calmed enough to stop thrashing the recruit about, whom if she was to tell the truth, was looking younger and younger. He couldn't be even fifteen years old, just a kid, all gawky limbed and thin as growing youths often were no matter how well-fed they might be. She released him with a curse, but did not offer any form of an apology. She couldn't. Leliana had made it quite plain. To the troops, she needed to be more then she was, to make choices and never look back. Bull had even said something very similar back in Haven.
"Braska!" She cussed coarsely as she handed the boy off to Iron Bull. She turned around and sat on the log they had just climbed over moments ago as the Qunari mercenary took the kid off a few paces to talk to him quietly. He was so young, too young… What horrors had those innocent eyes seen… she began to muse just as Solas interrupted her.
"I wonder how old the boy is." The apostate gestured with his chin in the direction Iron Bull had taken the scout.
"I do not know, but I intend to do something about it once we return to Skyhold. He is just a kid, he shouldn't even be here!" Tempest growled the words out and thumped her hand down onto the log.
"War makes old men of us all, Inquisitor." Solas muttered in a distracted manner as his eyes began to gloss over with distant emotions and ghostly memories. Tempest knew that look very well, it was the same one she saw in the mirror, or in a still pond. She couldn't regret anything, not really, because it made her strong enough to lead the Inquisition. The Dwarven parable was that it took heat and one hell of a pounding to make a sharp sword. Tempest in her teenage years couldn't help but add 'Too much pounding and the blade is warped, too much heat and it shatters'. She still felt this was true, how much more heat could she take?
"Tempest, please or at least you can call me Cadash. The Inquisitor is someone who sits on that big old throne back in Skyhold. She is not really who I am, Inquisitor is what I do." She turned her head and quietly looked up at the tall elven man.
"As you wish, Tempest." He said nodding his bald head slightly in her direction.
A familiar pair of finely chiseled arms enveloped her as the log she sat upon creaked with more weight being added to it.
"… and here I thought that was my pet name for you. Now I will just have to find another one!" Dorian's whinny tone, jovial in its high pitched crescendo, made her wince and then laugh uproariously. "How do you feel about strawberries?" He continued to ask her as she wiped her eyes free of the tears the joke stirred loose.
"Hey Boss, we are going to want to get the details as we haul our asses over those hills. We have people trapped in what's left of a Dwarven ruin. Mudslide. Scout Harding was trying to evacuate a family camped there for the night. She ran in there yelling about the stone?"
"Fuck!" Tempest surged to her feet and swung her pack over her shoulder in one fluid movement. In her haste she nearly tripped over a stone dislodged from the shale cliff nearby. The other members of the party all had a similar reaction to the news.
Tempest felt as if her head were full of angry bees. She couldn't even be sure of the direction they should travel other than farther south. She was vaguely aware of which way the last camp in the area was and that Scout Harding had been over-nighting there as her team ensured the darkspawn presence were properly taken care of. The problem with these sea side cliffs, though strikingly beautiful compared to the rest of the landscape, was that there were so many caves unaccounted for on the maps and few locals who knew the terrain any better. Lace's team of scouts were commissioned to take a topographic specialist to every niche in the bluffs they could find. They were not to engage the darkspawn themselves. Sutherland's group had proven themselves adept at purging that fiendish scourge and had been assigned to assist Harding's scouts in that regard.
"Did you get the direction to the mudslide Bull?" She yelled over her shoulder as she made the way to the beach. The boy had come from that direction and there was no climbing the flinty incline in front of them. She felt sure in her direction at least that far.
"Yeah, Boss." Bull intoned as he jogged to catch up to her and the mages trudging through the sand of low tide around the shale cliffs. The exhausted young man struggled to the front of the pack in an attempt to guide them. Tempest realized they didn't really need him to show them the way as soon as she set foot on the beach. The kid's boot prints were still bold high on the sandy shoreline in his haste to find aid. However, she knew he needed to see this to the end, she could see it in his eyes and the determined set to his jaw. Besides, they would need every hand they could muster to attempt this rescue.
Their own prints were being washed away behind them as the waves crashed into the shore, even at low tide they had to jog single file around some of the high cliff's outcroppings. The loose ocean sand swallowed their hurried feet. Bull seemed to have the worst time of it. His weight sunk him farther into the swirling silt than any of the others. Solas, in his elf-light frame, still dug into the sand but far less than even the next lightest party member.
It was slow going not only because of the sand itself but also because of what it hid, the sharp shells scraped skin and boots alike and the hidden rocks made them all trip at unexpected moments. The most dastardly hidden obstacle so far was the rotted deck boards of a completely entrenched ship, its mast lost, long ago ripped away by the waves. Iron Bull had the unfortunate luck to be the one who discovered the hidden vessel, when his foot crashed through the boards. Tempest knew she would be bruised from her knees down, and from the slight curse from behind, Solas' lithe toes fared no better. The silt sucked at both their boots and at their energy as they hurried along after the young scout.
"Solas, do you have a rejuvenation potion all mixed up for the kid?" She asked as she turned her mind inward in the attempt to plan for the best possible scenario and also the worst. The sound of a cork as it popped and the kid's mumbled, "Thank you" was all the answer she needed.
Tempest was already too deep in thought to do much but quickly follow, bringing up the rear guard. Refreshed the scout picked up pace leading them around several more jutting cliffs that lined the sandy beach. She had been on a rescue team once for a cave-in and could only hope that lone experience and luck were enough. Gulls kiting in on the ocean breezes cawed in an annoying mock to her daunting troubles as she mentally worked around what little she knew about earthen instabilities. She almost wished she had joined her uncle and the other lyrium smugglers in the Cadash clan down into the Deep Roads. Maybe if she had, she would now have some of what the other Dwarves referred to as stone sense. They could just look at a cleft in the rock or a slope in the mountainside and discern much of its contents and stability. No use in wishing for what she didn't have though. Tempest sighed deeply and returned to methodically running through plans in her head.
Her lips moved wordlessly as she inspected, found fault with and dismissed plan after plan. Tempest knew they had little time but they simply were going the fastest they could in this terrain. They could save no one if they broke a leg here on the windswept shore.
She finally had several workable plans for nearly all the possible situations the mudslide might present, when the beach came to an abrupt halt in front of a suspiciously well maintained Dwarven ruin. One whose door was intact. That would have to be explored later, she promised herself. The scout motioned for them to turn left and go up the hillside. She climbed the incline, grateful to be out of the clinging ocean scent of rotting seaweed and the abrasive silty sand. It was not an odor she particularly enjoyed.
Within seconds they could all clearly make out the mudslide that would be their immediate challenge. The southern cliff had given way as the soil was saturated with more water then it could take. The river of earth was nearly devoid of visible debris and the brunt of its force was taken by a large set of boulders that the mud had turned into grey islands. Against the eastern cliff-side Tempest could clearly see the perfectly flat, blue stone of the ancient Dwarven architecture used in this region. Most of the slick dirt had settled against what was left of the southern cliff. A second set of boulders almost parallel to the first had received far less mud and other then in some places where the mud flowed between the boulders the stones made an unobstructed path up towards the cliff-side. More importantly it would get them within reach of that blue cap-stone.
"Thank whatever gods you believe in. It actually is not as bad as it could be." She told them as she let out the unconscious breath she had been holding since they'd made it to the ruins.
Dorian whispered under his breath, "Maker keep them," As he took in the size of the task before them, before he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Iron Bull came up behind him to place his hand on Dorian's shoulder, both gaining a spark of hope from the small contact.
She gritted her teeth as she approached the very edge of the mudslide, where a sole blood lotus stood undisturbed. Even though she knew that the rare plant would be very useful for the Inquisition, she couldn't simply reach out and snuff out that lone speck of life at the edge of the brown sea of chaos.
"Come on we will need to get onto those boulders from the northern side of this sludge. It would only waste our time to try to work at it from here." She said as she pointed uphill to where a small patch of darker grass grew on the south slope of the neighboring prominence.
She led the way skirting around the mud and low shrubs and into the sparse trees, carving her own route for a bit before they hit on what was obviously the remnants of a well-worn path. They followed along that easily however it eventually turned to climb up the glossy green hillside. Once they left the path they found less foliage and much more loose stone and dirt that shifted under their boots. When they finally stood on almost the exact spot she had pointed to from the shore, what had looked to be a small first step up onto the boulders was actually a stone edifice that was about a hands width taller than her own head.
The ascending trek allowed them all time to process the dire task and as she looked into the faces of each of her team she saw that no amount of earth or rock would stop them. She found confidence in the tilt of Solas' eyebrows, determination in the tight line of Dorian's mouth and hope shining from Iron Bull's lone eye.
Tempest shucked her pack off her back with a thud and most of her gear followed. She kept a long rope and her belt of potions, as there was a distinct possibility that someone in there might be hurt.
"What's the plan Boss?" Iron Bull said as he too unburdened his broad shoulders, but kept his greater maul. If he felt weary from carrying a larger portion of their supplies after the pack horse incident, he never let on. Tempest knew by the way he slightly stretched his neck to one side, he would seek her out later at camp as he had often done before. He claimed she was just the perfect weight to walk on his back, 'just to get the kinks out'. The first time he had asked her to do it she thought it was some strange foot fetish, like a certain 'unnamed' noble who was paying her a yearly stipend for her silence. Bull asking her for that though sent her flying off to tell Dorian, who eventually straightened the misunderstanding out. Several days, three bottles of wine and a special chocolate and crème pastry later.
From where she stood Tempest's keen eyes could barely see the rain washed Inquisition's banner over the top of the steep green knoll. "Alright, Scout umm errr…" She took a deep steadying breath as she looped the rope across her torso with a tight tug before continuing. "Scout… Kid just take our gear up to the camp, get it all set up for triage and start some sort of warm filling porridge or stew as well. Is there anyone else at all up there?"
"No, Inquisitor ma'm, Captain Harding had the main group go north along this river looking for the large cave you mentioned in your last report. She had us draw sticks for who stayed at camp to cook, scour the rust off armor and clean everyone's uniforms. She's the best leader, she never asks anyone to do what she would not to do herself… She and I stayed to do camp duty. She … I do not know how she knew to evacuate that family. One minute I was scrubbing the pans and the next she..."
"Alright I get it. There will be no back up." She impatiently interrupted. "Look, they only have so much air in there so we have got to do this quickly, if they are still alive."
The kid snapped to attention at her reprimand before immediately reaching for Solas' much abused yellow pack. Even at the all knees and elbows phase this kid was at, he towered over her meager height. But, just a few cross words from her had him scrambling to do as asked. He settled on wearing a pack on his front and another on his back. His legs shook under the weight, yet he began to reach for her pack intending to carry all three at once. Shaking her head side to side in mild irritation, her hair cast off small drops of sweat as she stepped between the Kid and her gear.
Solas saw the impending chastisement in the tightened line of Tempest's lips and placed a comforting hand on the young scout's shoulder effectively stopping him. "You will be of little help, if you became injured because you overburdened yourself."
A large gray hand slapped down on the teenager's other shoulder causing him to jump, his eyes wide and face instantly paler. "Yeah Kid, quick is good, safe is better and don't worry about Harding. She has pulled through tougher situations than this. In the Chargers we have a saying 'you can't mourn anyone till you have their body in front of you and ale in hand.' It's worked well for us."
The young blond human smile a small tense flash of teeth at the massive horned Qunari, before muttering a 'yes sirs' and ducking out from under both respective hands. With an almost inaudible 'yes ma'm' he began his hike up the slope to the camp, his knees still wobbled under the weight.
"Iron Bull either you have some reports you haven't shared with me or you just made that Kid one hell of a cow paddy." Tempest quipped with a sideways look at the mercenary captain. She ignored the Tevinter groaning at her jest with a roll of her eyes as she looked for a crevices to give her a hand or foothold to scale the first boulder in front of her.
"How long you been waiting to use that one, Boss?"
"Hmmm, oh the cow paddy? Back when you first told me about Tamassrans popping corks back in Haven. I only have the excuse of not knowing you well back then and the perfect opportunity never came back up."
Iron Bull snorted as he began to laugh but was stopped short by Dorian walking up beside him and slapping his bare chest with the back of his hand. "If you two are quiet done with the bodily function jokes we have a mission, people to save, things to do you know?"
Tempest nodded her head sharply at her team as she stepped forward and after a few carefully placed hand hold swung herself up onto the first of many boulders. 'When you are small the whole world looks big.' She thought to herself and began to scale her way to where she could just see the top of the Dwarven ruin, the blue stone like a signpost in the slimy earth.
"We shouldn't need to jump over the mud flows if we are careful and get on top of this stone here." She said as she skirted around a mud filled ditch where two large boulders meet a third. It was slow going at points because of the slick mud atop rain washed stones, but eventually the entire party was all but within touching distance of the Dwarven ruin.
Carefully Tempest made her way out on top of the blue stone ledge, making sure to leave all the space she could for her larger companion to stand beside her. Iron Bull side stepped deftly out on to the ledge beside her, unfortunately this didn't leave much room for maneuverability. Gritting her teeth she swiftly un-looped the rope from over her head and passed it to Iron Bull.
"Bull, tie the end of this around your waist, we are going to use you as a counter weight and if need be a pulley. Let's hope they are not too injured. If so then you will also need to carry them out of here one by one. Solas, Dorian, see how the rock juts out just there?" She pointed to a rain slick outcropping a few feet from where they stood. A small hop up and both the mages would have a good vantage point.
"I want you two there. Dorian, I want you to cast whatever fire spell you can sustain long enough to dry as much of this mess as you can. Solas, once you think an area here at the top is dry enough use that lifting spell you do, lift out a secure tunnel. Then we can hopefully drop the rope down into it for them to climb up. Let's just hope they somehow were up under this ledge and survived and that they are not somehow..."
She closed her eyes to stop herself from saying the word. There were already so many lives on her soul, forever staining it. She didn't know if she could stand it if a friend's life were to be added to that dark place in her mind. Harding was more than just a scout to her. She was Tempest's first friend back when she was 'recruited' to the Inquisition. She had never been alone with so many humans before and if asked, she could honestly say it all came down to height. The ability to look someone in the eyes makes a big difference. She shifted her weight from foot to foot as the mages carefully made their way over to the spot she'd indicated. Beside her, Iron Bull was making one last knot along the length of the rope to make it easier for the survivors to climb up and escape to safety.
Bull caught her watching his strong and surprisingly dexterous hands make the final knot and grinned at her, his teeth very white against his dusky skin. "Don't worry Boss. We have faced much worse than a little mud before."
"It's not the mud I am worried about." She shot back with a small grin of her own, but quickly lapsed back into silence.
"Inquisitor we are ready when you are." Dorian quipped from across the gulf.
"You two have enough lyrium potions to make it through this mess?" She held up her hands and shook her head at her own blunder. "Never mind, stupid question. Just make them last as long as you two can."
On her command Dorian began super heating the mud just a foot or two ahead of her. It had her almost instantly too hot in her damp leather armor, turning the trapped moisture into steam. The mud, it seemed, was more tenacious. At first it looked as if it was doing nothing, but then the outer skin of the slick earth began to crease. Cracks ran across it in all directions. That circle of concentrated magical fire ceased just long enough for Iron Bull to swing his big maul, using its powerful force to break a chunk off and for Solas to lift the debris up and away. She trusted each person on her people to decide what to do when and they trusted her to come up with the general plan of thing, in times like this it was a fact she was extremely grateful for.
Their smooth teamwork made the repetition of breaking through the dried mud move along quickly until they hit an unexpected snag. From where she stood Tempest could see that the next time Bull went to dislodge a dirt-clod using his maul that he might get a shocking reverberation from the handle hitting the very brink of the blue ledge they stood on. "Stop for a second everyone. Solas, I think we are going to need you to climb down with the rope and use that stone fist spell to dig down farther."
"Yes, though I do not believe the tunnel will be as stable, however it will be safe enough. Time is not our ally here, Inquisitor."
"Good, let's get too it!" The Storm Coast must be taking pity on her because the near constant rain let up as Solas stole over the magically dried rocks. A vial shattered in his wake, after he downed the lyrium it contained, as the only sign of his passing. With a strange, mischievous smile he unexpectedly stepped out onto the dried and cracked surface of the mudslide. Tempest gasped then glared at the apostate elf, but she stored away that anger for later. His recklessness would have to be addressed at a better time, when lives didn't hang in the balance. He carefully traversed across its ridges until he could reach out and take the end of the rope. With his staff out of its sling in one hand and the rope in the other he jumped down into the hole.
"Dorian, if you could, cast your next spell between my shield aura under my feet and the mud, constricting your 'fire wall' spell into that area. What we require is a constant spinning disk of fire that you will need to keep feeding your mana into until we break through. I hypothesize that it would be the most efficient way to finish this rescue as quick as possible." Solas said calmly as he knotted his end of the rope around his waist.
Tempest raised her fore arm to shield her eyes from the white hot light that suddenly shot out of the tunnel. How Solas could even see she had no idea, however the loud stone on stone sounds the dried mud made were testament that he either didn't need to see or somehow planned for that eventuality. Time was punctuated by the noise that the apostate elf in the tunnel rhythmically made, eventually the rain returned and swept itself inland over the cliffs and through the sparse trees that did little to shield them from the watery menace.
A loud crack and a sudden tug on the rope were all the notice they needed for Dorian to stop casting and for Bull to brace himself.
"Inquisitor," Her title echoed slightly as it made its way up the tunnel.
"What does it look like down there Solas?" Tempest called back, getting down on her knees out on the dry mud to try and peer into the dark cavern. The danger of the tunnel caving in from her weight though slim still danced in the back of her mind as she tried to peer through the dusty gloom.
"We must hurry this opening will not hold long. I am sending them up. I will have to tie the rope about Harding and guide her way up myself." Her lips thinned at his reply, either Lace was unconscious or unconscious and hurt. If how Solas chose his words were anything to go by, otherwise she could guide or climb up on her own.
From her kneeling position she would be able to help the family get up out of the tunnel and onto the ledge safely. The blue precipice was about to get very crowded, and Tempest had to hope no one stepped on her by accident. The survivors would have to wait for Iron Bull to move forward a bit for them to clamber out onto the boulders one by one.
"Bull, once the civilians are out you are going to have to hoist Solas and Harding up, so get ready." Tempest's firm voice commanded as she returned to watching the rope. It began to swing slightly as the survivors made their assent. Far quicker then she would have thought she saw a well-tanned arm pull itself upwards on the last knot of the rope. She flung out her arm as the first victim felt around the opening for a way to haul themselves up out of the tunnel. A warm, firm masculine hand clasped her arm as she leaned back, pulling hard to help him up.
Subjectively, he was an attractive older man in the same way Dorian was handsome, dark and striking. Tempest chastised herself for the observation as she motioned for him to get back and she leaned down to grasp another dusty set of arms. Three back-breakingly heavy humans later, she reached down and grasped the rope to start pulling Solas and Lace up while Bull stepped aside for the family. Her arms and back burned as she pulled the rope up hand over hand.
Over the background noise of the wind and rain she could barely hear Dorian chattering to the survivors as he guided them down the boulders and up to the shelter of the camp at the top of the hill.
She jerked back as the weight of the rope was removed from her hands. Bull had completely taken over the labor of pulling their friend and scout master out of the deep tunnel below. Tempest's arms ached and her breath came out in heavy pants as she slipped by the Qunari mercenary and scrambled over the rocks. Solas and Bull would need the extra space to maneuver the unconscious woman out of the freshly cut hole. Even the apostate elf's slim body would have him nearly shoulder to shoulder with the large Qunari trying to pass the inert Dwarven form into Iron Bull's strong grey arms.
The only reason Tempest had not been bumping into Bull was her height was below his top-heavy center of mass. While she did have to admit his immense shoulders had a certain appeal to her, he was the second half of her best friend. Dorian deserved whatever slice of happiness he could find. She just had to do her best to wash the image of his dripping wet muscles from her mind. Lucky enough the rain slick boulders she was clambering down from required her utter concentration, and then the relatively small and shallow edge of the mud slide had her nearly falling into it head first, further distracted her. The sturdy Dwarven boots that had gripped the rocks so well did little good as she slipped in the shallow brown slurry while she trudged her way through it out onto the grassy rock filled hillside.
"Andraste's flaming cunt! These boots were new! Damn it to the void!" Tempest swore as she looked down at the dark streaks and flecks that covered the tops of her feet and trailed up her calves. The falsely ordained Herald of Andraste flinched and peered around reflexively for anyone who might have overheard her. She took a few calming breaths, and stretched her sore arms up above her head in an effort to ease the aching muscles. Truthfully she didn't even believe in the human Maker god, she couldn't trust blindly like others did. Her faith was long ago destroyed by the hard metal indifference of Templar swords and nauseating Chantry rhetoric.
How could any loving god sanction the slaughter of so many in the exalted marches that ravaged Thedas over and over? How could anyone justify the theft of the lands promised to the elves by Andraste's very own lips? How could the Chantry call all men beloved children of The Maker and then tell those few who are born mages that they and their magic were abominations. That their Maker given powers were too dangerous to ever let them live normal, happy and most of all free lives. That the Maker cares for all his creations, as long as they are humans, all others are not welcome in the Chantry. Even those in need of aid or comfort. There were so many other reasons, but it all came down to the simple fact that if he was real then he just didn't care. Look no further than all the innocents who died hungry, cold, and alone.
The Inquisitor kicked several small rocks down the incline as she calmed herself and waited for Bull to hop down the boulders with scout Lace Harding in his mud speckled arms. However the first face to clear the rain washed boulders happened to be accompanied by a set of pointed ears and the expression on it made her heart race.
"Solas…how hurt is she?" Tempest asked, her churning emotions swept up her imagination along for a wild fearful ride. Would she bear witness to Lace's brave reassuring smiles despite the pain that lurked behind her eyes? Or would see her friend's cold form draped limply over Iron Bull's arms? So much could have happened to her, so many ways in which death would be a mercy and a blessing.
The tall elf ignored her question as he jumped spryly down beside her before popping the cap off a lyrium potion with the flick of his thumb and downed the salty, bitter contents. His eyes shone bright for a moment under the effect of the lyrium, she briefly wondered why Dorian's eyes didn't react the same way to the potions. Perhaps, it was simply an elf thing, she admittedly hadn't had much contact with elf mages. The elves in the Carta, back in the Free Marches tended to be rogues; purse string cutters, assassins, poison specialists, artificers of all branches even an archer or two sure. However, she had never personally meet the few well respected mages in her family's operation. She never would either, not after Haven, and definitely not after she received a letter about a week after returning from the Fallow Mire. It was from the leader of the Cadash carta, her grandmother. The letter let her know in every way that she was dead to the Cadash clan. Tempest had attempted to speak with Josie about the political ramifications of keeping the clan name or changing it, instead the ambassador had ambushed her with that unspeakable pink monstrosity.
"Inquisitor, we must hurry!" Solas yelled over his shoulder, interrupting her silent musing as he streaked ahead toward the hill top camp. Solas was not one to overreact. If he said something was amiss, it was. Trusting his judgment, Tempest darted after him, albeit a bit slower. There was a distinct advantage that being an elf with long elf legs made verse short Dwarven limbs.
"Dorian is in Danger! Assassins." Was all he said as he came to a stop behind the last big boulder in a direct path from the mudslide to the camp. They both stuck their heads around the boulder, his above hers trying to make out details inside the canvas tents from their hidden vantage point. His whispered, his lyrium-laced breath was wonderfully chilling on her overly hot ear. The brief run after the climbing, which was after an even longer sprint in sand no less, had made her nearly steam inside her dusky leathers. The brooding clouds over head released torrents of water as clap after clap of thunder rang out. She silently thanked the storm for both the obscuring darkness and the coolness it brought her underneath her well-padded armor. The padding could go, if you asked her, all it did was hinder her movements and overheat her when she exerted herself. Which was several times a day. If they lived through the next few moments she promised herself a new set. Perhaps, something in dragonhide, in grey-blue maybe.
Nodding mutely to Solas in understanding of the urgency, answers to who, how, and why could be discussed later when the lives of their people no longer hung in the balance. Tempest was profusely grateful for the new leg harnesses Leliana had designed for her. The release mechanism would actually spring the hilts into her palms at the flip of a recessed switch. If she hadn't had the new locking harness she might have been tempted to leave them with her gear instead of the risk of losing one of the matched pair to a bog-ish demise. Flipping the switch Tempest quickly released her daggers from the sheaths high on her thighs while she peered around the edge of the large stone. There were two of the large Inquisition tents lit up from the inside, shadows danced against the canvas.
Her lips traced out a quiet thanks to Commander Cullen for his insistence that everyone in her inner circle be well and thoroughly trained for any eventuality, including hostage situations. Just like they now found themselves in. They had each practiced as the hostage and as the rescue party to the vast amusement of Cullen's soldiers who volunteered to be the mock captors. One of the things he'd drilled into them was the need for signals that mimicked the local wildlife. There was plenty of fennec roaming these hills to make the four quick yips she let out seem innocuous to whoever these assassins were.
Tempest held her breath as seconds passed by without the four responding 'I am alive' yips. Her eyes sought out Solas' in hope that his superior hearing had caught the return signal. He shook his head side to side as the rain washed down his face unimpeded by hair or hood. Licking her lips, she scoped her face around the corner of the rock and repeated the signal. Tempest felt Iron Bull's large hand come to rest on her shoulder, and when she turned her face to his she could make out the stark fear in his eyes. Iron Bull's grip on his weapon was tight enough to make the knuckles whiten, just as he opened his mouth to speak the awaited four yips came back from the camp. All three sighed in relief they were alive and knew of the danger now, if they hadn't before.
They didn't have to wait for the following message yips. They were high and meant to sound like baby fennec's calling for their mother. It was unfortunate that Dorian's attempts had never quiet sounded right, but the message was clear enough. 'All fine, alone'. If the yips were not enough of a hint to what tent they occupied, the smart aleck Tevinter stood and began to make obscene shadow puppetry against the canvas with what had to be a loaf of bread or one huge root vegetable.
Tempest turned away from the smarmy display at Iron Bull's repeated taps on her shoulder. With a panache worthy of a showman Bull flipped back the edge of his cloak to show her the rosy pink face of scout Harding nestled against his shoulder. Relief swept through her body in a tingling wave that left a strange sense joy in its wake.
The euphoria of finding Lace alive and relatively well made the scene Dorian provided even funnier. So much so that Tempest was on the losing end of an onslaught of giggles. With one hand over her own mouth, she used the other to motion for details about Harding's condition.
"She passed back out when I set her dislocated shoulder, the leg is pretty bad though Boss." Bull said as he unclasp the cloak from around his neck and swaddled the much smaller woman in it. He made sure to flip the bottom of the cloak underneath the dwarf's backside and to slip the loose braided ends of her disheveled hair into the hood as he pulled that up over her head. With considerate care he placed her on the ground reclining against the rock they all hid behind.
"Ideas?" She whispered to her rain drenched posse as she leaned her tense back against the solid unyielding stone, still trying not to laugh. Solas was still wheezing soundlessly in laughter, bent over with his bald head nearly between his knees. Both Tempest and Iron Bull looked from the unusual old elf's display of humor back to each other, shrugged and grinned widely.
"What do you think Bull?" The Inquisitor asked, giving the chortling elf another moment to compose himself.
"Boss, what if Chuckles and I here walk in all normal like then make a scene somehow? While your Inquisitorial-queen-rogueness here sneaks around the back of our guest's tent and drops it on 'em? Best way I can see us taking one alive to interrogate." The Qunari said as he sheathed his maul down his back in one smooth motion.
Tempest thought it over for a few moments, her fingers tapping on the stone behind her. "Alright, but be careful."
