faderift | OPEN: The Western Approach

OPEN: The Western Approach

WHO: Everyone!
WHAT: The Western Approach is a terrible place. You should definitely go there.
WHEN: Bloomingtide 15 onward
WHERE: The Western Approach
NOTES: This is open to everyone. Characters who would not happily go to the hell desert probably have to go anyway; it's a war, not a vacation.

Once these wastes were a land of plenty. Can you believe it? The rain came north over the Gamordan Peaks, turning the plains green and verdant for three months of the year. Eight hundred years ago, that changed. During the Second Blight, darkspawn spilled out of an enormous crack in the earth, corrupting it with their foul blood... and it never recovered, even after they were driven back underground. The Grey Wardens built Adamant Fortress to stand watch over that chasm, but eventually even they abandoned it to the wind and the biting sand.

What few of us eke out a living in this Maker-forsaken place do so knowing that any number of deaths await us: darkspawn raids, dragons, bandits—not to mention starvation from the lack of water and game. If we stay, it is because we know there are treasures buried in the bones of this place, ruins from the time when Tevinter ruled, and even earlier. We pass tales around our campfires of the things we have seen shrouded in the dust storms. My favorites are the ones about relics that could restore the Western Approach once more... but I don't believe them. Truth be told, on nights when the wind is calm, I can stand on a hilltop and see for miles in the moonlight over a stark beauty of which no other Orlesian can claim to know the equal. On those nights, I hope it will never change.

—From Lands of the Abyss by Magistrate Gilles de Sancriste

I. THE DESERT

When Scout Harding calls somewhere the worst place in Thedas, that's probably a bad sign. Even when nothing in the Western Approach is deliberately trying to kill you, there's nothing kind or forgiving about the landscape: bare and arid, carved through by sharp-dropped canyons, dotted with abandoned mines and signs of the deaths of lost travelers. Winds sweeping through to whip stinging sand into uncovered faces, and periodic dust storms obscure visibility entirely. It's warm enough to be dangerous but not so hot, at this time of year, that heat exhaustion and dehydration can't creep up on you while you aren't paying attention.

And at any given moment, something probably is deliberately trying to kill you. The food chain in the region is top-heavy, with quillbacks, phoenixes, hyenas, and varghests roaming hungrily and as likely to attack one another as the sparse local prey population. Compared to their natural competitors, the Inquisition's forces look like easy marks. The camps the Inquisition scatters at lookout points throughout the region require constant watch, and going anywhere alone is inadvisable. Not only because of the hostile local everything, but also because it is incredibly easy to get lost. One rock formation looks much like another after hours in the sun or bathed in shifting moonlit shadows, and good luck finding many other landmarks. There are a few: chunks of pillars or arches from some ruined structure, or the occasional odd pillar that might, if someone investigates, prove to mark a trail of sorts.

Plus: the only people who seem determined to survive out here are cutthroat bandits and stray Venatori. Double-plus: a high dragon makes occasional fly-bys, scouring the ground below for anything edible, armored or not.

Some reprieve comes at night, relief from both the sun and the area's primarily diurnal predators. But that's when the darkspawn come out.

II. GRIFFON WING KEEP

Bloomingtide 16-17: Taking the Keep

Only a small force of Tevinter cultists remains in Griffon Wing Keep when the Inquisition arrives, seemingly on their way out the door already, but the sight of Inquisition banners is enough to make them stay and fight. There's no need for siege equipment, but there is call for a little bit of patience. With it, a small battalion is able to evade the mages and archers on the walls and storm the doors with few casualties. Fewer than three dozen warriors wait inside. It's a quick, brutal fight; it only takes a night.

Bloomingtide 18 Onward: Home Away From Home

Once the Keep is cleared of occupants, it's ripe for the Inquisition to… occupy… But with implicit permission, at least. Those who aren't needed for fights elsewhere may be put to work clearing out debris and small animals and the remnants left by the cultists, and within a few days the fortress is a serviceable outpost, much more hospitable than the camps out in the sand. Barracks mean even those who don't have beds at Skyhold may have one here, and it takes less than a week for an enterprising merchant to arrive with ale.

III. THE STILL RUINS

Despite signs of recent activity, the lavish Tevinter palace tucked incongruously into the canyons is quiet and still, when the Inquisition discovers it—quiet, still, but not empty. The ancient ruin is brimming with demons and Tevinters in incredibly outdated fashions, all frozen in place, as they have been for hundreds of years. No one breathes or blinks, but their skin is still warm and alive to the touch.

Beyond the entryway and halls and through the courtyard, there are signs of research and experimentation, and one man stood unmoving with his hand clasped around something unseen.

Perhaps someone will discover the cause. Perhaps someone will undo the spell that's been cast over the palace. Perhaps, if someone does, someone will take the opportunity to not immediately murder all of these valuable sources of ancient information, and instead only murder most of them. In the meantime, however, it is unlikely that anyone will ever be able to get this close to a rage demon without receiving a face full of fire. Take advantage.

IV. CORACAVUS

Signs of the Venatori point upward: up the hills, up ladders and towers, and into the ancient Tevinter prison, Coracavus, that was built into the mountainside. The ruin is filled with sand now, with half-collapsed walls and anything not made of stone worn away by winds, and the Venatori are long gone, their hunt for relics from the glory days of the Imperium abandoned when an excavation attempt opened the prison to darkspawn, instead. The darkspawn have retreated as well, but there are signs of their presence. Namely the smell and the half-eaten corpses of slaves—primarily elven and dwarven—who were left behind to their fates when the Tevinters fled.

There's no sign of them now, but digging through their abandoned camps may turn up a name, if anyone would like to see that he pays.

V. ADAMANT FORTRESS

A day's determined walk from the nearest Inquisition camp, Adamant Fortress overlooks the vast chasm—dubbed the Abyssal Rift—from which darkspawn poured during the Second Blight. It stood abandoned for nearly 150 years before the Grey Wardens' recent reoccupation, and it's abandoned again now, emptied out well before the Inquisition's forces arrive. There are signs that the retreat was a hasty one: scattered belongings, opened doors, abandoned meals, and no fewer than fifty bodies left on a mass pyre that only half-burned without anyone to tend it.

The Veil has always been thin here, and it's thinner now, where demons have been pulled through from the Fade. Rifts hang over the battlements and in the corridors, and escaped shades lurk in the dark corridors, siphoning away the willpower of those who linger until they come close enough to attack. Those who visit the Fortress set up camp outside of it rather than within it, wisely.

There are clear signs of blood sacrifice, for those who look: the bodies, blood stains on the stone floors, neat lists of names systemically crossed through. Sorting through documents left behind may turn up vague notes in a mage's runic shorthand or the journal of a trepidatious new recruit (Lourde, a pickpocket, crossed through on the registers). Behind a locked door in the lowest rooms are the bodies of sixteen mages, still in their Circle robes, left lying where they fell when the Joining took them. Mages who were among the rebels in Redcliffe may recognize a face or two as belonging to the hardliners who left with the Tevinters.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I. (traveling, AAAH DRAGON)

Cade doesn't have any weapons. What he does have is a bunch of crap that he has to carry and deal with for everyone else, a glorified valet for the Seekers and higher-ranking Templars on the expedition. In a way, it's not all bad: at least he's too tired to be jumpy, except when the dragon flies over.
Cade has never seen a dragon before. Every time its shadow passes over him, he's struck with a sort of primal, heart-stopping terror, which he assumes is how a mouse must feel when an owl swoops over. It's not pleasant, and he will be very happy when they've arrived somewhere with decent fortifications.
....and hiding places, for the unarmed to stand even a tiny chance if she should decide it's time for a snack.

II. (home away from home)

Safely situated in the Keep, Cade now has the enviable position of endless, endless cleaning. He is also periodically called to draft and send off missives for the Order's higher-ups, essentially the errand boy for anyone who needs him.
He'd get indignant about it, but frankly he's so used to it by now that it's easier to just accept his given status.

He can often be found in the more populated areas, sweeping or scrubbing or carrying a message, never idle and never social unless called upon.

Edited 2016-05-18 01:49 (UTC)

Upon receiving news about the Western Approach, Michel was grateful for the distraction. For now he'd done all that he could for the Emprise. The Approach was...different territory entirely, a place that could be harsh on the body if one wasn't careful. And then there was the dragon circling over their heads, some seemed to be intimidate by this, but Michel was not. Not yet.

It didn't stop him from striding up next to someone who was with Charlemagne, a cream colored stallion with a dark mane and tail, well cared for. He'd seen Cade, but they had never spoken, but now seemed a good time, "I would not worry...right now we're not a threat...if we were the dragon would have let us know this by now. It's peacocking."

The most reassurance Michel could give, he's seen dragons put on displays just to let the unwanted know what and where their domain was and to keep their distance.

Although Cade isn't cowering every moment that they're traveling, he does periodically shudder and squeeze his eyes closed when he sees the dragon in the distance, or hears her, or becomes otherwise aware of her presence. He looks harried when Michel addresses him, a bigger bundle of nerves than usual.
"...a threat?" he asks quietly, hoarsely, "...what about food?"

Ellana notices the errand boy is always busy, though she doesn't know anything else about him. Perhaps if she knew this was the Templar who attacked Beleth, she might have ignored him completely, but since she doesn't, she approaches him while he's cleaning and holds out a water skin.

"Here; you shouldn't go too long without water." It's extending the olive branch. If he finds fault with an elf showing him kindness, she'll leave him to his dehydration.

It's not that he finds fault with it, really. It's that he doesn't trust 99% of elves after what happened with Beleth, so for all he knows this one is handing him a flagon of straight poison.
He looks at it, then glances furtively at Ellana's face. She's pretty, which distracts him for a moment before he shakes his head. "I'm fine."

"If you're sure," she replies, moving to prop the water skin up against a nearby crate. "It's there for later if you want it. It's not personally mine, so you can just put it with the empty ones down by the quartermaster later."

With that out of the way, she wanders over to a spot nearby and picks up a few half-burnt pages left by the Venatori. There are no secret plans on it as far as she can see after flipping all the pages front and back.

"Would you like some help cleaning?"

Her reassurance is noted, but not necessarily taken to heart. Cade nods, then continues to sweep the dust and detritus from around the ruined doorway, clearing it up so the room beyond can be made useful.
He's not going to say no to assistance, even if he isn't sure why it's being offered. Rather than answer outright, Cade looks at her oddly, then shrugs. Sure.

"All right." And with that, Ellana starts moving things away from the walls so he can clean the dust out from behind them.

"My name's Ellana," she says conversationally.

It takes Cade a while to answer, because he isn't convinced she's still talking to him. Or... not mocking him. But when he looks over his shoulder to see her looking his way, he realizes he's being rude.

"Um. Cade," he replies, and immediately flinches. Yes, That Cade.

Cade. She's stooped over, but slowly rises to stand straight, her eyes never leaving him. He's the one that's become intertwined with her clan, in violent ways. And she can't help but look him over to see if he still carries any of the wounds that Merrick gave him. Maybe, just maybe, she'd like to see a little evidence of that pain, the way Beleth's nose is now crooked.

"They let you leave Skyhold," she says flatly, and even she can't tell if she meant it to be a question or not.

Unfortunately for Ellana, Sam got to Cade in time, and no evidence remains of his beating at Merrick's hands. At least no physical evidence; there's evidence, if one is looking for it, in the way he watches Ellana out of his peripheral vision, waiting to bolt if she should decide he hasn't paid enough.
Based on the way she's looking at him, and her tone of voice, he guesses his concern isn't entirely unwarranted.
"Yes," he says hoarsely, pausing what he's doing, heart hammering in his chest.

Ellana honestly can't say what she's feeling right now. She doesn't know all there is to Cade, and if she knew his issues, perhaps she'd be more sympathetic. Right now, she wants to hate him, but so little of Ellana's heart can ever be devoted to hate. She can be wary, and disappointed that the Inquisition or whoever is in charge of his punishment let him out.

And she can stand here staring him down for a bit longer too, but that isn't getting work done. She breaks her stare and frowns down at the flagstones like they can instruct her on what she should be feeling. After a moment, she decides to be blunt.

"Will there be a problem here working with me, because I'm an elf?" She doesn't know all that the fight between Beleth and Cade involved. Beleth sure didn't admit to antagonizing him, or say that he has anxieties that cause him to lash out. All Ellana has are assumptions, like he attacks elves for being elves.

Cade looks a little bit like a piece of him just died, but to be fair, he often looks like that. He doesn't look at Ellana, simply shaking his head and murmuring, "no." In truth, there might be a problem with him working with her, but it will have nothing to do with violence. He'll just... be in a terrible mood.

"Fine," she answers, turning to go back to work. But she is keeping an ear out for him moving towards her quickly, just in case. He's given her no reason to trust him, and she'll be on her guard because of it.

Crates are pushed out of the way, and any big debris she picks up by hand, leaving him to do the deep cleaning. She doesn't really know what to say to him right now. What she really would like to know is why he did what he did, but she doesn't expect she'll get an answer that satisfies her.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

OPEN: The Western Approach

Cade, OTA

I. Traveling

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