Re: Scouting Group
Andraste's mercy, could Conlan have been any louder?
Well, maybe if he had filled his pockets with silverware and jumped up and down a few times - Maker knew he was making enough of a rattling noise simply moving about that any enemy less than half-deaf would have pegged him at a hundred paces - but then, Matthew's senses were all on high alert as he ringed the so-called Chantry building, less convinced now than he was before that that was its true purpose. There was always at least one side-entrance to Chantry buildings, after all, not to mention windows at floor level; congregations, even in the country, could be large and often reeking once trapped in a small space for Mass. That the stone structure had nothing in the way of this made Matthew wonder if it weren't some odd kind of squared-off grain silo. At least he and Pavak hadn't been ambushed while they traced the perimeter of it.
Even now, seeing the armored men of their splinter group move into sight, he was waiting for it. Every muscle in Black Matthew's frame sang with tension, and one of his blades wove back and forth between his fingers, constantly spinning and moving, an absent yet impressive show of dexterity, especially given that the edges of his daggers were hardly dull. If he didn't bleed off the nervous energy somehow, he'd be jumping at shadows, threats that didn't actually exist. When he and Pavak emerged on the far side of the building, the circuit of its outer wall complete, he did so just in time to see Conlan check the door and try to enter.
That he couldn't budge the doors made Matthew thank Andraste. That COnlan actually spoke in a whisper, concerned both for discovery and for the violated sanctity of a Chantry, made him reluctantly approve. But such circumspection was hardly necessary at that juncture - "Nothing on the outside, and no other entrances. I say that unless we're prepared to break down the doors," and he nodded to the entrance, before flicking his dark eyes back down the road that Gulbrand and company had come, half-expecting enemies to materialize at their backsides, "we regroup with the others and wait for daylight." Beat, a glance back at Gulbrand. Even someone not as intimately familiar with Matt and his foibles as, say, Lillie, could read the unease in the set of his shoulders, the tension in his jaw.