Thread: Scouts of the Inquisition (Alvis & Sync)

No matter the hour, it was always dark, adn it was always raining. The Mire was a place that very few came to, and even fewer thought well of. The damp and the chill and the very stench of the place was an excellent deterrent to those who came in without ill intent. Smugglers and barbarians were a frequent haunt to the place, which made one of the new arrivals seem less out of place. There was a primary camp, frequented by the main scouting team of the newly minted Inquisition. Most kept close to it, aiming for safety in numbers. Few had ventured deeper in, and fewer still were outside of the camp. A small fire was burning, it was a smoky affair caused by some of the wood being salvaged from the Mire itself. One man stayed close to it, seemingly un-bothered by the rain or the cold. He was kneeling close to the flames, what looked like a piece of antler in his hand, holding it over the flames and rotating it slowly as he examined the smoothed and sharpened edges. Care had gone into what he was holding, it seemed an antler dagger. The man was not a small one, looking to be over six feet in height if he stood straight, and more than five feet across at the shoulder. His face was seamed and weathered, long years of care and stress etched there. He was tanned and wind-burnt, a man clearly used to the extremes of weather. He looked out at the world through bright hazel eyes, edging towards a golden hue. Wolf eyes they had been called more than once. His chest, forearms, and lower legs were necased in a burnished grey metal, carefully treated to make sure they held no real shine. The rest of him was wrapped in heavy furred hide, taken from the bodies of some of the larger bears that were seen in Thedas. There were belts across his chest, and thighs, all them studded with what looked like short stabbing blades, but there seemed to be no hint of metal amongst them. Standing tall beside him, it's point embedded in the ground, was a sword. The blade was nearly five feet long, and a full hands width across. Unlike other weapons among the scouts, this one had no shine of metal on it. It glowed faintly in the firelight, a dull ivory colour, like aged tooth or bone. A flatblade, a weapon well known to be used among the Chasind of the Korcari Wilds, but even then only by some of their greater warriors, and all of them were known to be blessed by the shamans of the tribes. Such was teh legacy of Disa of the clan SIlverfire, known to his people as the Restless for his long travels. Older than many of the scouts at this point, Disa had been given command of a small team by Harding, not wanting to waste his experience. Travels to many regions of Thedas, long years of experience in avoiding conflict and heading straight into it, he had a long and varied set of skills to his name. He looked back to the camp. He'd met two of the people that Harding was assigning to his team, a man named Garrett that had been a scout in the Orlesian army for some years before leavingn to join the Inquisition. He was quick, quiet, and good at his job. The other was a hunter from Redcliffe, Good with a bow and good at spotting signs. Disa had been told by Harding that he would be getting a fourth soon, and then they would be sent out to bring back a record of the surrounding area. It was what they were here for, and Disa wanted to get to it already. He'd enlisted into the Inquisition out a sense of requirement. There was a huge damned hole int he sky now, and if the Herald had managed to limit the effect of it, the fact remained that it was still there, adn had been raining demons onto the land for some time. While things seemed to have calmed down, there were still open fade rifts, adn from them demons still periodically poured out. The Mire was always a dangerous place, but it had become lethal of late. Disa contented himself with the thought that he had faced worse in his time than demons or undead. Disa cocked his head at the sound of a faint sound, almost like a child sneezing. But there was no child anywhere around them. He looked about, trying to pick outt he source of hte sound. There was a slight form standing not too far from other members of his team. Finally, after what felt like forever, Harding appeared. Disa sighed in relief. Almost time to move then. He knew his standing orders, so returned to hardening his antler. Harding didn't speak much to her team in the field, there was little need. Simple instructions, work to be done. She looked to Garret, and nodded. Your team could use some magic support, take the new girl with you. Once you're all acquainted, get to it. The dwarf said simply. Garret looked over to see the new girl. The elf. Having already met his direct superior, he had a sneaking suspicion that this wasn't going to go over terribly well. Still, orders were orders, adn he stepped closer to her. Miss? He asked, no sure of her name. I'm Scout Garret, and Lieutenant harding has asked me to show you to your Scout Sergeant so we can get underway. He said with a pleasant tone to his voice, gesturing to the more distant camp fire that Disa crouched at.