faderift | Listen. This is the noise of myth.

[When the hut does not bear fruit (Morrigan perhaps didn't believe it would, doesn't seem entirely surprised when there's nothing of any great substance there) she has another idea because witches never come unprepared.

Not everyone might casually announce that they will seek out The Chasind as she does but given the legends and how Morrigan has spoken of what is truth and what is fabrication, how else is there to be any clue found of her mother?

Chasind trail sign hunting it is. Be wary. There are plenty of dangers lurking the Wilds. Wolves for the most without the fear of man most wolves might have. Darkspawn might even linger in a pocket or two from the Fifth Blight, lost in the swamps or soldiers turned and not yet finished off. There may even be a demon or two.

Or simply the monotony of travel as the cold and damp sinks into you, as you wonder was that a branch or was it a snake you saw, one of the silent creepers, the length of an arm and black as night. Aren't they poisonous.

(Why does it feel as if you're being watched?)

(You are. This is not the civilised lands, you are trespassing, you are drawing closer to a place not yours.)]

This land has an aura about it that isn't familiar to Ellana at all. She may have cast off the clan life, but she's still a child of the forest and that often means she finds comfort in the woods. Not so here. The trees seem to press all around them, looming and staring down, as if judging if they're worthy to walk through. It's a tense situation, but Ellana treads carefully in her boots that fell from a rift, muffling her footsteps slightly more than regular boots would. Her ears are taking in every little noise, because darkspawn can't be wholly silent and she's fought enough to last a lifetime already. (She's fought darkspawn once. That's enough.)

She's leaving the search for trail markers to Morrigan because Ellana knows she's likely to walk right past them. After a long time listening and not talking, she catches a sound, then movement out of the corner of her eye and lifts up her staff at the ready. It's black and long, slithering closer. Ellana slams her staff blade into the dirt and the vibration sends the dark mass retreating. It's easy to assume it's a snake, but she doesn't assume here.

"Careful; something on the left. It went back into the brush."

This is the creepiest surface outing Kit has ever been on, and that includes a foray into a forest where the trees tried to eat him.

"I saw it," he replies to Ellana quietly, already reaching for his axes. His eyes search the dark shadows created by the trees, but every time he thinks he's spotted it, it retreats further away. Ancestors, what...?

"Something on the right, too." Busy narrowing her eyes elsewhere as she reaches for the staff on her back, Korrin glances back over upon hearing the two and angles her steps closer to them. It's not wise to get split up, not in a place like this. Like Ellana, she has no idea what to search for so her plan is to follow Morrigan and watch for any signs of trouble.

...and of course they're being watched in turn. That doesn't surprise her, but all they can do is keep their guard up and see what awaits them. "...can't believe I'm saying this, but this area has me thinking the Fallow Mire wasn't all that bad." That place was a sodden mess full of undead and rifts, but she can handle undead. It's the living who have her wary.

Ellana snorts at Korrin's observation. This place is pretty creepy. To think: this is where Morrigan grew up. Anyone could see how it's shaped her.

"I figure we keep moving forward, but stay alert. Pursuit would be a bad idea here." Sure, she's curious as to what these black, shadowy things are, but she's definitely not about to let them draw her away. The Dalish have stories about children getting drawn deeper into the forest. Most cultures do, she imagines.

Kit moves into what amounts to a flanking position, so that if one of the mystery monsters decides to take a stab at them from the side, they won't be caught unawares. ...He might end up demon food in the process, not being especially well equipped to tangle with enemies from beyond the Veil, but hey, at least Ellana and Korrin will have a heads-up. Nice.

"Who even names a place the Fallow Mire?" he mutters under his breath, but moves to keep up with the other two, trailing after Morrigan as she forges ahead.

Catching the muttering, Korrin smirks faintly.

"I know, right?" The was no saving that mess, nothing to be done but cleanup and learn from it. But she returns her focus to the here and now, before her fond reminiscing lands them in danger.

The green aura emanating from her staff is probably a beacon to whatever's around, but it also provides them with some light. She's fairly itching for action instead of just being observed, but their trek has a specific purpose and so she'll wait until her magic is needed before unleashing it.

It's the same with Ellana. She'd like to make a joke, but it's for the best if she stays focused here. The sooner they find these trail markers, the better. Her ears pick up a sound to her left again and she points her staff in that direction, waiting. When nothing comes, she sighs and keeps moving, though she's on high alert for something to leap out. She's sure it's waiting for her to drop her guard.

"It's back. Whatever it is."

Kit unsheathes both his axes in a smooth, fluid motion, and adopts a ready stance. "What is this thing, shy?" he grouses.

"That or it likes fucking with us. Come out, already." Korrin's voice isn't loud and challenging, though, just low and tense. She's ready to cast a Barrier spell for her companions at any moment, just waiting for it to come after them in the open.

Ellana stares out into the gloom of the swamp and brush, feeling her heart pound against her rib cage. These things are so much easier when you already know what you're dealing with because weaknesses can be exploited.

"You think it speaks Common?" she asks under her breath. Whether she means for Korrin to hear it or is just making a comment isn't clear, but whatever is out there isn't inclined to listen. One might say that the sharp command plus three armed people staring in its direction might be giving the thing stage fright.

He starts to lower his axes some to his sides, squinting into the woods. ...uh. "Maybe it's changed its mind."

The large Vashoth woman relaxes her position only slightly, but she certainly doesn't let her guard down. Frowning, she shakes her head. "Like I said, fucking with us. Letting us know we're in its territory and live at its leisure. I've seen that shit before."

Right. Well, Ellana doesn't want to relax either, but she does want to get away from whatever it is. "Better keep going then, until it feels like not letting us." She doesn't say her next thought aloud -- because she's the one who brought attention to this in the first place -- but whatever this thing is just seems to be wasting their time as they search for the Chasind. They need to get back on track.

Guess who was paying attention to all of that the longer it kept going, guess who happened to be stalking closer with a face like a stormcloud and her staff in her hand? Why it's the lady of the hour and she cannot believe what she was witness to with all of that.

"If a solitary serpent is enough to provoke that," she hisses with her voice pitched just low enough to indicate her displeasure without causing a further ruckus, "then perhaps you are best suited to falling behind at the outskirts to wait. Surely you have faced far worse than that."

Trail signs. Looking for them. This is the task. So help her she will find that snake or any snake and throw it at you if that helps to actually confront it.

Has she ever seen a blighted snake though? (they're freaky a f.)

A little chagrined, he sheathes his axes and sends a surreptitious glance at the other two to see if they're feeling as appropriately sheepish as he does. That's when he spots it--just beyond the stormcloud that is Morrigan's black-as-night scowl, a mark on the path.

"Hey." He points. "That what you're looking for?"

Right, shutting up. At least for a moment, Korrin is abashed, knowing full well that she's faced worse even if few places compare in terms of creepiness. She doesn't place her staff on her back again, but her stance relaxes somewhat. And then she glances where Kit points, narrowing her eyes.

"It looks that way, doesn't it? Another sign."

Ellana is far from looking sheepish. It's simple: either they spend five minutes staring down a snake or they spend five minutes sitting there while someone sucks the venom out of someone else's leg. Seeing as they're walking around blindly, hoping to stumble across signs of a people who aren't even expecting them, this is hardly wasted time.

Besides, how do they know Flemeth can't turn into a snake? Checkmate, friends.

She doesn't speak, but she does move forward, her staff doubling as a walking stick as she approaches the trail marker.

Morrigan literally knows. That is her mother. She raised her. She knows Ellana, please voice this thought so Morrigan can confirm some facts but she nods at the sign.

After all, she knows them well enough herself even if it's been years; some things never change, tradition being tradition, that the one of them coming from the Legion spots it doesn't surprise her overly much. Survival in the Deep Roads must depend upon it.

"They do not appear to be any of those that may point to a cache, not marked as this. I have found piles of stones set the same way yet easily overlooked." Morrigan might actually sound hopeful. Not that she wants to because this is her life after all but she's been stumped twice already so far, she feels she's due something going her way on this hunt.

Kit approaches the trail marker and considers it with a critical eye; he's seen his fair share of markers of a different kind in the Deep Roads, but they all have similar characteristics when you get right down to it.

He straightens up and squints into the bush. "Guess we ought to adjust our course a hair, in that case," he says to Morrigan, and turns to look back at her as well as the others. "Southwest, rather than south. I think this," he says, gesturing downwards towards the soil and undergrowth, "is a footpath. Hasn't been used in a while, but I can see the signs."

The Medicine Seller emerged from the trees. He had a habit of vanishing, sometimes for hours, always rejoining the group without much comment. There was little point when he hadn't found much - the Chasined were quite good at covering their tracks.

He was well at home in the wilds. He didn't look like he should be - he looked like the kind of person who'd be more at home in a wealthy manor than trudging through wetlands. But the Medicine Seller had lived his life traipsing through the places in his world where civilization gave way to tangled roots and the barriers between the physical and spiritual broke down and the world belonged to older things.

"There is a deer trail," he said in his slow monotone. He held up what seemed to be a broken stick at first, though on closer inspection it was, in fact the broken shaft of an arrow. It had been stripped of its head and plumage and one end had the unmistakable coppery stain of blood. He'd found it, discarded in a shrub. He was sure the implication was clear enough - someone had been hunting in the area, and given the fresh stains on the shaft, it hadn't been too long ago.

And then he added, almost absentmindedly;

"There is also a considerable quantity of dawn lotus."

He was helping.

"Chasind are better than those not of the Wilds at moving without trails, to make their way without being seen." Stalkers in particular, let them not have any of them at their backs today to carry word back or to decide they aren't worthy even of that, instead slipping out with blades and worse. "But if they have goods to move..."

Not so easy to take through the thicker undergrowth or the bogs, easy enough to understand that this means something. That there's more than just a path the Chasind use.

"Long has it been since I have ventured--" And whatever else she was going to say is interrupted, neck snapping around fast enough it hurts, pulling tight because whilst most everyone here she knows and would vouch for in terms of their competence in the field, this is the Korcari Wilds. "Were there any deer? Signs of a kill?"

Chasind do have their gods with animal heads.

It's the hasty way Morrigan snaps her attention back towards the Medicine Seller as he emerges from the brush that puts Kit on edge. He glances once more towards the trail as it winds through the brush, then turns to approach the peculiar elf, looking between him and Morrigan speculatively.

"Were there any deer? Signs of a kill?"

"I'm guessing it's a bad sign," he says dryly, "if there's isn't."

"Dawn Lotus? Good, keep those handy for healing." As healing magic isn't Korrin's forte, she's well-stocked on potions and grenades that offer such. Any ingredient that can make more is likewise gathered; at this point, bending down to pick up elfroot is automatic and needs no comment.

But back to the subject at hand, she glances over to Kit and nods, less familiar with the Chasind herself but seeing the logic in it. "Probably. Any sign of activity is useful, at this point."

"Not necessarily, but 'twould be useful to point us lest we chase our own tails. I would caution to beware the wolves here, they have no fear of man that a wolf elsewhere has learned."

Morrigan learned her own form from them so long ago, prowling in the dark shadows and through the undergrowth until she could move as they, could hunt and know the world as any wolf would but the Wilds make it different when a false step could sink some of them deep in stagnant water that hampers their movement.

The wolves, after all, could just as easily have left the kill. Best to keep moving as she feels the ground ahead with her staff and-- yes, beneath the undergrowth to her left is the mostly rotted and sunken-in face of a genlock. A thing she won't forget in a hurry.

Listen. This is the noise of myth.

chasind trail signs;

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

swoops into this snake situation

Re: swoops into this snake situation

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)