faderift | OPEN ↠ FALSE GODS, GREAT DEMONS (OPEN LOG 1)

WHO: Living Residents of the Horrible Future
WHAT: Ah ha ha ha stayin' alive, stayin' alive.
WHEN: ALTERNATE FUTURE, 1-15 Cloudreach 9:48
WHERE: Anywhere, but especially Orzammar
NOTES: This is the first open log for False Gods, Great Demons. Anything that happened prior to Cloudreach 9:48 should go on the flashback meme. Most members of the TTT and their friends in Kirkwall will be arriving in Orzammar on approximately Cloudreach 7. In the meantime, feel free to make your own adventures. If you want to blow up an bridge, assassinate an NPC of your own invention, steal supplies, or anything else--it's all yours, go for it!

SOUTHERN THEDAS is a wasteland. The Blight crawling across the Orleian countryside and into Ferelden leaves nothing alive in its wake, scarring the land like an insatiable fire until no birds sing and the only things that grows is the Red Lyrium that speckles cliff sides and crawls up dying trees until they look like rows of jagged bloody teeth. And where it's still green, where people can still survive, the atmosphere is nearly as stifling. Every city and settlement is watched over by a Venatori or trustworthy collaborator. Those who don't keep their heads down and their dissent a whisper may vanish without warning. They may take their whole families with them. There are flashes of hope--an assassinated lordling here, a village rousing itself to brief and doomed rebellion there--but for every man the Imperium loses, they seem to find two to take his place.

NORTHERN THEDAS is at war. The worst of it doesn't reach west into Tevinter or the Anderfels; the line between the Qunari and the Imperium is drawn straight through Antiva, with Nevarra and Rivain on either side quiet and calm as only lands under martial law can be. The Free Marches vary between complacency and rebellion, but the rebellious ones risk ruin--there are murmurs it won't be long before a whole city is made an example. A steady stream of desperate refugees is fleeing north to the Qun, but plenty are picked off and punished as traitors before they can cross into Qunari-controlled territory. Your best best for a clean escape are the pirates who still hold Llomerynn free from both sides of the conflict.

ORZAMMAR is the only kingdom in Thedas that looks much the same--and Kal-Sharok, but they're not accepting outsiders. The heavy doors at Orzammar's entrance are sealed and guarded, as much against the steady flow of refugees asking for help as against the Venatori. The refugees are turned away. There's no way to know who can be trusted, and even if there were, there's not food enough for people who can't fight. Orzammar Thaig is still the dwarves' home--though with stealing shrinking numbers and poor prospects, King Bhelen has been amenable to allowing casteless surfacers some leeway--but the once-abandoned Ortan Thaig is the Inquisition's. Quietly. The only things stopping a full assault on Orzammar is the Venatori's need for dwarf-mined lyrium and the plausible deniability that the Inquisition's remaining rebel bands are using the Deep Roads with Bhelen's consent.

An hour's walk through caves and deepstalker swarms, Ortan is a city in its own right. A crammed city, one where cots and bunk beds crammed into shared housing are the norm no matter how important someone is and you occasionally have to protect your dinner from a restless, swooping griffon, but one where you can still find a pint of ale or a game of cards if you've time to waste on them. It's just that not many people do. There's the watch to keep; the tunnels that creep further into the deep teem with darkspawn who are held back at barricades, while the hidden, narrow tunnels that lead to the surface are watched at all hours so anyone coming or going can be identified. There are weapons to forge and sharpen. Plans to make. Bands to lead. Maybe you weren't a leader five years ago, but these days, there aren't that many people with more than five years' experience still alive to give orders. Fewer every week.

And so we burned. We raised nations, we waged wars,
We dreamed up false gods, great demons
Who could cross the Veil into the waking world,
Turned our devotion upon them, and forgot you.
Threnodies 1:8

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He saw Cyril on the way and went to walk at his side. A hand fell to his shoulder and he walked with him, a small smile on his lips. Times were hard but that never stopped the giant man from being a positive force among the people here. He never let anything get him down and that was perhaps why some turned to him for comfort or just for a reminder that hope still existed. Or just to stay a little sane.

It didn't matter to him why Cyril might need him today but he was always there to offer any of that to him. This was a dear friend of his and he would do all he could to help him out.

"Welcome back, my friend."

Just being near Iskandar was a comfort, and though Cyril rarely smiled to anyone who wasn't Sina he did relax a bit when he was touched. The hand on him was more comforting than he could say.

"Thank you," he said, his voice low. "You look well."

"Well I certainly try to. Sina is looking well also."

Shifting his grip so he had his arm around him instead, he walked with him like that. Just let Cyril lean against him so he didn't have to carry all that weight on his own for a little while.

Cyril easily leaned against him. He even paused for a moment to let himself feel those muscles and the strength in them. There was a part of his chest that ached at the way that they reminded him of Taas but Iskandar also had a presence that was unmistakably him.

"Are you guys doing anything nice for supper today?" he means Iskandar and Kirk when he says 'you guys.'

"I'm not sure. I was going to see what Jim and Waver wished to do. Shall we all gather together instead? A meal as a family?" It could be good for all of them really, especially Sina. She needed to see that there could still be joy and love here. She needed that constantly so her beautiful spirit would never be crushed.

"I could fetch them later and bring them by. Or you two could come to us."

"I'd like that," he admitted. His work days seemed to end one of two ways, either he would feel productive and refreshed as his mind was put to use creating things that would help defeat a bit more of Tevinter, or he'd realize that he had been alone the entire day and start to miss Taas and Sam terribly. Today was more of one of the second kind of workdays.

He wasn't able to voice that emotion though, instead he could relax a bit as Iskandar offered him a way to be near men who could distract him from that pit of grief that was always there, beckoning him to jump in.

"Good. Then I will speak with those two later to see to it that you and Sina join us for a meal. Until then, you just returned, yes? We should get you in comfortable clothes. It is a time for a little relaxation at least." They had so few times like that that Iskandar insisted on them when they came around. Like now. Really it was just good for the soul to have them.

"Besides, I think it will make Sina happy to see you dressed that way too."

"Are you suggesting a fashion show or clothes shopping?" he asked and the corner of his lips moved up. It was the closest he got to his old smirk now, but it was still a sign that he didn't mind either of those two options.

"A show could be fun. We could try on outfits and have her decide what are her favorites. We can let her determine what prize we are awarded as a result of it as well." A little game for her to play that would let her be in charge of these adults to the fullest for a time. It could be good for her and the rest of them as well. They all needed something to keep the cheer up.

Cyril raises his brow a bit. "I feel as if that's opening us both up to wearing some rather embarrassing outfits."

He isn't saying 'no' though.

"Ha! I'm certain whatever her creative mind comes up with I have worn sillier in my time."

And when one had no shame at all it was terribly hard to be embarrassed by anything really. Even outfits created from the mind of one adventurous little girl.

"You know, I believe that about you. You don't seem the type to mind being put into anything, nor the type to mind walking around naked." Before, he might have followed that up with teasing about preferring him naked, but now he let the statement stand on its own.

"Likely because I do not. I've a fine body so I see no reason not to share it with others." Besides, being willing to do the ridiculous brought some joy to others for a time. If they could smile if only for a moment then that was enough for him.

"I remember," Cyril said, and there was a soft smile around his lips. It wasn't as full as it once might be, but Iskandar was one of the few who could get anything like that out of him. "And I can still see your arms, which I always liked."

"I'd say you like all of me but that is a conversation for another day." He wasn't about to push Cyril into such talks these days. After all, he was aware of what the elf had been through. A little teasing here or there but full on flirting like they used to wasn't quite so appropriate now. Iskandar could read signs as easily as any other. "It is good to see your smile, my friend. I know times are hard and how difficult things are."

"You do bring it out in me more easily than others," Cyril pointed out. "There's something about you that always lightens the mood."

OPEN ↠ FALSE GODS, GREAT DEMONS (OPEN LOG 1)

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