faderift | 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

He's fought his fair share of Venatori, and he's happy to whittle down the population every chance he's given. Thwarting their plans for the Keep makes a nice bonus, of course, but Bull's rarely happier then when he's taking on a good fight.

They're certainly more of a challenge than the bandits they've been facing elsewhere. They've got skill, tactics. Luckily, whatever personal issue Korrin may or may not have with him doesn't extend to the battlefield. He sees her dart forward to take that mage from the corner of his eye, and that allows him to concentrate on breaking their line.

A wide swing of his axe lays one of their armored thugs across the stone in a spray of blood, before wheeling about to deal with the other, coming in on his blind side from one of the alcoves. The blade catches just below the lip of that pointed helmet, tearing through flesh and bone and halting the attacker in his tracks, and he can hear the wet gurgle from inside the helmet before he collapses.

With them down, his focus returns to the Vashoth mage. Just how is she holding up?

Korrin remains on the offensive, though does her best to keep Bull in her line of sight. Whatever wariness she might feel about the Qunari, the fact is they need to take this keep. He's doing an effective job on his own, but someone with depth perception nearby can only help, right? As much as she can't afford to give him her full attention, seeing those vint bastards fall under his axe brings forth a smirk. "Nice one." They're that much closer to taking the keep now.

She has that Venatori mage on the defensive, kneeling and wounded thanks to her assault. However, just as she's about to finish him off, instinct causes her to glance downward. "Shit!" That fiery glyph is the last thing she needs to see, and Korrin has to leap back in order to avoid the brunt of the blast.

"Not going to take this lying down, are they?"

The stone explodes upwards, engulfed in flames, before Bull lowers his head and charges in. The cover of the blast would make for just enough time for that mage to find his feet again, and that's the last thing they need. Instead, he's got a lovely view of the surrounding smoke before Bull barrels through and slams him across the courtyard, to land in a heap near the foot of some crumbling stairs.

"All yours!"

"They never do, the fuckers." Korrin huffs, straightening and ignoring that slightly singed feeling to recast Barrier before someone takes advantage of any lack of it. It gives her a nice view of Bull's epic charge, and she laughs, despite herself. That vint bastard's expression must have been priceless, and he richly deserved his fate.

"Don't mind if I do!" Grinning, she retaliates with a fiery glyph of her own, the explosion consuming said heap. It seems a fitting end, in her eyes.

Fitting indeed. If there was one thing the two of them might have in common it's a disdain for these asshole Vint cultists, and that's something he can definitely get behind. Particularly when she's roasting them with a taste of their own medicine.

There's a faint smirk angled her way before he lifts his head, gaze shifting to the walls above them. A second later there's a whistling sound and something pings the stone at his feet.

"Archers. They're trying to flank from the north battlements."

"They can't flank if they're dead!" Or shocked as is soon to be the case. Korrin quickly renews Barrier first, not wanting to give them any chances to strike, before unleashing a blast of lightning that shocks the nearest target before arcing to the rest in rapid succession. That ought to keep them busy while Bull does his part, and Korrin works on thinning them out before charging in herself. The best thing about being a Knight-Enchanter? No more fighting from the back unless she feels like it.

He can respect that about her fighting style. She's obviously skilled, and in control of herself on a battlefield to the point that she can be trusted. So he doesn't worry about her as much when he goes charging up to a ladder, hoisting himself up, in order to close in from the side.

One poor sod gets his face slammed with the pommel of his axe, and goes toppling over the side of the fortress.

"Now there's a sport I'd like to see: Venatori-tossing!" Seeing a vint go over the side like that gets a smirk out of Korrin, appreciating that maneuver being done in her line of sight. Sadly, there are still more to go so she can't just sit back and enjoy the show. Her style much-reminiscent of Vivienne's, with a few adjustments for someone of her size, she quickly takes down the nearest with her glowing blade.

"That one counts at least two points," Bull calls back, before hoisting his weapon up to give a massive swing, cutting down the archer frantically trying to back out of range and sending him to the stones at Korrin's level.

The scent of blood's growing thick in the air, and his hits are coming harder. "Come on, you assholes! One of you's got to be willing to put up a real fight!" The taunt carries across the battlements, and those that remain seem to be regrouping.

"Pretty pathetic for a last stand, isn't it?" When that archer reaches Korrin, she summons a boulder just for the fun of seeing them go flying into the mage attempting to cast a spell. Two birds with one stone, literally. Closing in to finish them off while they're still dazed is easy work.

So is freezing the Venatori idiot who thought wearing a huge, heavy, sight-restricting metal helm in the desert was a great idea. (The rest of their armor is just as bad, but for some reason that weird spiked helmet really sets her off.) As they move to shield bash the larger horned person, she decides to freeze them in place for Bull to dispose of as he pleases.

And there's only one good thing to do with a frozen Venatori. With a savage grin, Bull leaps, axe brought high overhead, like it's a competition to see how many pieces he can smash the soldier into once he brings it down again.

One of the last soldiers, wounded and panicked, starts to scramble for the higher levels of the fortress, hurrying as quickly as he can towards a set of stairs leading up and leaving a trail of blood behind him. Bull jerks a chin in his direction.

"Got a straggler."

"Not for long!" Narrowing her eyes at the soldier, knowing that others will pay for it if he's allowed to flee, Korrin blurs forward. She won't get within striking rang in time, at least not for her blade, but long-range attacks have their place. Before he can flee further, she raises her staff and launches a salvo of lightning blasts from her staff to home in on the Venatori. As they tear into him, he drops.

It's satisfying every time he sees one of those assholes drop, but it appears he's the last for the moment. His pulse thunders in his ears as he hefts the handle of the axe to rest on his shoulder, striding towards her and over the crumpled corpse of another Venatori.

"Not bad."

There's some real admiration for her work there. He's not gonna get all mushy on her, but a job well done is worth remarking on, no matter who it is.

OPEN: The Western Approach

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