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[[OOC:29th Haring, early evening, around the Barratt estate in Hightown]] Edwin Thatcher
Preparations had begun the previous night. With the templars set on standby for a Tevinter ship that might or might not be carrying illegal supplies of lyrium, and runners positioned near the docks and the guardhouse ready to report on any movement there, there was no possibility of Barratt Orland being able to sneak his daughter through the city unnoticed. Sorcha and Bailey had been hard at work putting together small smoke and tar grenades, and Nicolette had joined them once worried dreams had driven her early from the bed she’d shared with Celeste. Under different circumstances, she likely would not have moved until late morning, so comfortable she had been; but it felt like the wrong time to be enjoying herself.
She was deeply worried about how this might play out, and she had never tried making grenades before; her hands had been shaking a little as she poured the mixture into the small clay spheres, until Bailey had noticed and distracted her by telling an outrageous series of lies about winning a fight against a shark with his bare fists. Successfully amused, she had managed to get through the process without covering them all in tar or filling the cabin with smoke (she had left the more lethal combinations to the other two, not wanting to blow a hole in the side of Celeste’s freshly mended ship).
She had still been a bit restless throughout the remainder of the day, and had gone out to perform as usual in order to burn off a little of the energy and keep her ear open for any whispers surrounding Addie’s imprisonment or unusual movements at the docks. At one point, a group of templars had gone clanking past her at high speed heading lower into the city, but she had been unable to find out where they were going.
And now it was near dusk, and she had returned to the ship to fetch the clothes that she had picked out for this. She wound her plait into a coil at the back of her head, and donned breeches and tunic so plain that it seemed unlikely anybody would recall any details if they looked at her. After stealing a kiss from Celeste for luck, she had headed in the direction of Hightown without trying to sneak. It was not something she was especially good at. Better to be the distraction.
Once she and the others reached the arranged meeting spot with Edwin, an alley or so away from the estate, she wrapped a scarf around the lower half of her face and pulled her hood up. One of their contacts had procured a cart which they could push into the street to act as a temporary blockage if need be; the back was piled with barrels. Hopefully they were not full of blasting powder.
The shadows lengthened and gradually the entire street was dark. Nicolette waited, hoping her heart was not really as loud as it sounded in her ears.
Preparations had begun the previous night. With the templars set on standby for a Tevinter ship that might or might not be carrying illegal supplies of lyrium, and runners positioned near the docks and the guardhouse ready to report on any movement there, there was no possibility of Barratt Orland being able to sneak his daughter through the city unnoticed. Sorcha and Bailey had been hard at work putting together small smoke and tar grenades, and Nicolette had joined them once worried dreams had driven her early from the bed she’d shared with Celeste. Under different circumstances, she likely would not have moved until late morning, so comfortable she had been; but it felt like the wrong time to be enjoying herself.
She was deeply worried about how this might play out, and she had never tried making grenades before; her hands had been shaking a little as she poured the mixture into the small clay spheres, until Bailey had noticed and distracted her by telling an outrageous series of lies about winning a fight against a shark with his bare fists. Successfully amused, she had managed to get through the process without covering them all in tar or filling the cabin with smoke (she had left the more lethal combinations to the other two, not wanting to blow a hole in the side of Celeste’s freshly mended ship).
She had still been a bit restless throughout the remainder of the day, and had gone out to perform as usual in order to burn off a little of the energy and keep her ear open for any whispers surrounding Addie’s imprisonment or unusual movements at the docks. At one point, a group of templars had gone clanking past her at high speed heading lower into the city, but she had been unable to find out where they were going.
And now it was near dusk, and she had returned to the ship to fetch the clothes that she had picked out for this. She wound her plait into a coil at the back of her head, and donned breeches and tunic so plain that it seemed unlikely anybody would recall any details if they looked at her. After stealing a kiss from Celeste for luck, she had headed in the direction of Hightown without trying to sneak. It was not something she was especially good at. Better to be the distraction.
Once she and the others reached the arranged meeting spot with Edwin, an alley or so away from the estate, she wrapped a scarf around the lower half of her face and pulled her hood up. One of their contacts had procured a cart which they could push into the street to act as a temporary blockage if need be; the back was piled with barrels. Hopefully they were not full of blasting powder.
The shadows lengthened and gradually the entire street was dark. Nicolette waited, hoping her heart was not really as loud as it sounded in her ears.