faderift | THE SEAS SHALL RISE & DEVOUR, Part I

THE SEAS SHALL RISE & DEVOUR, Part I

WHO: Any Inquisition members + all rifters
WHAT: A semi-involuntary tropical island vacation
WHEN: Kingsway 20 onward
WHERE: The sea and an island east of Rivain
NOTES: OOC post.

I. THE JOURNEY

Two ships depart from Kirkwall on the morning tide, sturdy vessels crewed by veteran sailors--but a mere skeleton crew, as it turns out, or so a few of them would have you believe. They're prone to assigning tasks to anyone who happens not to look busy, shoving ropes into hands without a care for station or experience, barking out instructions and expecting to be obeyed. With plenty of work to do the journey seems quick, and besides the unexpected chores it's otherwise smooth sailing through the Waking Sea. Some claim to've spotted the Windline Marcher one night, but it could just as easily have been clouds on the horizon, and that's it for excitement until the ships round the island of Brandel's Reach and out into open ocean, the ever-present coastline finally falling away behind.

The sky is bigger out there and the waves are too, especially when a storm strikes a few days out, dark clouds and driving rain sending any inexperienced sailors below decks to wait it out. The worst of it being the pitch of the ship rolling up and crashing down the massive waves, and the way the hold fills with the stench of people being sick. But the next morning dawns calm and clear and with no lasting damage done.

The group is bound for a desert island, drawn on maps with a big deep cove like a bite chomped out the side it, and a narrow channel through the surrounding reefs to reach it. That's the only moment of true tension on the voyage: as soundings are taken every few feet and the helmsmen adjust and readjust in response, carefully threading the needle to avoid running aground on ship-killing banks of sharp coral.

Both ships make it, and anchor offshore in the bay in the sheltering lee of a cliff, safe from future storms. The first party ashore reports back that Qunari are present in the area, but while they've displayed a palpable wariness, hostility does not seem their aim today, and they retreat back up to the hills above the beach as Inquisition forces arrive. Anyone able-bodied is tasked with assisting in unloading, and those less hale with helping the quartermaster's assistants track the process to make sure nothing goes astray between hold and shore.

Camp is to be a collection of tents: large ones beneath which makeshift facilities for cooking, eating, and working are set up, and many small ones designed to hold 2-4 Inquisition agents. They're still hammering stakes into the sand and tying off ropes to the sturdier palms when a shout goes up, though anyone present who possesses an anchor shard will not need to be told: a rift has opened nearby, a couple hundred yards out into the bay, a knot of shapes splashing about it. Better hope the rifters can swim.

II. ARRIVAL

Rifters

You were asleep--deeply or fitfully, for the last time or just resting your eyes for a moment-- and then you were not. And wherever you were was not, anymore, replaced by nothing but the sensation of falling, tumbling into endless, bottomless nothing. If this were still a dream, you would wake before you hit the ground. You can't die in a dream, they say. In some worlds.

In this world, when the afterimage left by a flare of too-bright, greenish light fades, you will find yourself at sea. Not metaphorically (though perhaps that too) but literally: dropped into what is unmistakably the ocean, from the salt in your mouth and the incessant slosh of waves into your face, the squawk of gulls circling overhead. You had better start treading water.

Thankfully, if you can keep your head above the waves long enough to make a quick inspection, it turns out that land is in sight, only a few hundred yards off. Unfortunately, between you and it is a strange slash of greenish light. It sticks up out of the water but seems to continue beneath as well, turning the otherwise-turquoise waters the same pale greenish shade of a man gone seasick. The cluster of demons emerging from the rift are tall, spindly stick-things with too many eyes who flail about like stickbugs dropped in pond, but use the long reach of their arms to attack. Some are hunched and hooded with no eyes at all, their shrouds sodden and draped in seaweed. Others are mere wisps of greenish light that float easily over the surface. While you might get the impression they are as surprised as you to find themselves in the drink, any humor that might bring is probably outweighed by how angry it seems to make them.

If that were not enough to contend with, there is also the narrow splinter of light the same sickly green as whatever brought you here that now glows out of the palm of your left hand. It aches, a bone-deep pain that gnaws even through all the distractions. But there is some good news: from the beach over yonder boats are launching. Perhaps they'll save you.

Rescue

As if rescuing rifters from drowning and demons weren't hard enough work, all the commotion in the water inevitably draws the attention of the local predators. But what arrives isn't the usual eel or ray or even a shark: it's something much bigger and much...redder?

Slinking through the water comes the flash of a fin and the glint of a scaly back, so quick and sinuous it's hard to say how many of the sea serpents there are. As wide around as the circle of a man's arms, with snapping jaws lined with an unnatural number of curving teeth, but what should be smooth snakey curves are instead jagged with the jut of brilliant red crystals that catch the light and make the sea seem to be already splattered with blood. They're studded all over its body, making any even glancing blow carry twice the danger: there's not just the stunning force of the strike to worry about or the possibility of being coiled in a crushing grip, but also being sliced and gored by red lyrium.

And the serpents aren't alone. While all eyes are on the churning water and the incredible sight of demons battling it out with sea monsters (because everything in that water is fair game to the beasts, not just the Inquisition), one sailor is suddenly plucked out his boat and carried screaming down into the depths by a great, crystal-encrusted tentacle. Cleansing runes are effective, but the monsters are canny enough to avoid capture, falling back into deeper water before attacking again. The arrival of a red lyrium-tainted kraken is just about the final straw for the ship's crew, and after seeing the monsters come dangerously close to cleverly flipping one of the longboats, they insist that the Inquisition row back for shore.

If flight is hard to stomach, consider it a tactical retreat: in shallower water the great bulks of the monsters become a liability, thrashing about among the rocks as they try to give chase. Escape back to the beach is possible, and surely the safer course, but it may be possible to lure one of the sea serpents into a tide pool or to beach itself up on the sands. The rest continue to prowl the bay, visible circling the ships at anchor and making any return impossible for the time being.

III. STRANDED

Once everyone is safely on land and out of the monsters' reach—after any wounds have been seen to, with particular attention given to any that may have been exposed to red lyrium—it's obvious that there's no way to leave for the time being. There isn't much to do but to try to make the most of things and try to accomplish what you came here for.

Some of the team will be tasked with continuing to set up camp. Now that the stay might be longer than a single night, it needs to be a little sturdier. The beach and cove are protected from harsh winds and exposure by a half-circle of rocky cliffs, and the Qunari communicate in grunts and one-word answers that large predators make sleeping in the jungle itself a bad idea. They've only been here a few days (that much can be gleaned despite their reticence), but some of the untamed jungle has been cut through to make clear paths to fresh water and fruit sources.

Penetrating the rest of the island is slow, difficult work—though magic may make it easier. The goal is near the top of the formerly volcanic peak in the island's center, but hacking through the growth to create a path may abruptly become a waste of time when it gives way to a steep drop-off or an equally steep incline and forces everyone to double back and try another route. If there was ever a clear road to the top, it's gone now, grown over during centuries of abandonment. But there are signs of past habitation: the lower portions of the island are spotted with crumbling ruins, chunks of moss-coated wall rising out of the forest floor, the occasional pillar looming up amongst the trees. Some have architecture and faded murals that are distinctly elven. Others, more recent, are clearly human, including a statue of Andraste in the center of a clearing. Others are harder to identify.

The predators the Qunari were trying to warn everyone about turn out to be real--they're large, jet-black cats about the size of a height of a mabari but longer, with short manes, near-scaley skin, and horns almost like the Qunari's. And before anyone gets any ideas about keeping one, they're fiercely territorial—always likely to try to eat your face, but doubly so if you come near their adorable kittens. Feeding them may buy a moment or two for escape, but nothing is going to win them over.

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In the water itself, sharing a boat with Kain and a few others, Bethany had started making ice floats to keep their boats in place. She saw Inessa's boat floundering around the edges and sent a huge block of ice to it, to hold it to the sand as best she could, calling out to Inessa and Garahel.

"Try to stay in the boat! I'll try lifting them to you! Catch, pull and heal!" Her staff never seemed to stop moving, as a blast of wind lifted a limp Inquisition soldier up and into Inessa's boat.

Straining to hear Bethany's voice above the sheer noise created by the large, angry sea beast, she nods. As the soldier reaches their boat, she tries to help steady them, but Garahel's better suited for that. So she'll heal where it's needed...and hit anything hostile that comes near them with a misdirection hex.

Bethany is working on building an ice bridge between their ships, and trying to stretch one out as close to the shore as she can get, so people who cannot reach their boats can climb on and run slash slide to safety. It's not perfect, and sea creatures keep trying to smash it down, but it is better than nothing. She at least manages to get their two boats together.

A tentacle reaches out behind her, red tinged, while she's continuing to build the ice bridge between them to full solidity.

Inessa does her part with creating ice in order to merge their boats, then her eyes widen in horror upon seeing the tentacle. As Garahel dashes across the ice bridge, she raises her staff.

"Duck!" And then she sends a Stonefist spell straight at the tentacle, silently praying that the timing will work.

Bethany was just finishing up her side of the bridge, then turning to the water, to see who she could pull out, when she heard Inessa's yell. She didn't even think twice about it, she dove down to the ice and slid across it, closer to Garahel, twisting over on her back. Wide-eyed she watched Stonefist slam into the tentacle, that pulled back abruptly, and she could hear the creature screech somewhere.

"Well! AT least we know magic works on it!" She yelled as she pulled herself up with her staff, and sent a bolt of fire after the tentacle.

Garahel normally tries to be gentle with his bulk, but not this time. He throws himself against Bethany to help shield her from the best, moves to stand and attempt to shield them both, when Inessa crosses over to join them. The more room he can give them while they cast spells or whatnot, the better off they'll be.

Inessa nods, her lips grimly set. "We'll need more, for certain!" Renewing her Barrier spell to cover them all, she then fires with her lightning-based staff...a staff which also has a cleaning rune affixed. She hopes the wretched beast will sting all the more for it.

Bethany puts one hand on Garahel's head, whispering softly, "A whole steak for you, my friend, when we get out of this."

She pushed herself to her feet, waiting for the barrier and the spell to go off, before she followed it up with another blast of ice. "If you can hit it again with lightening, we might be able to shatter off it's limbs!"

Garahel lets out a huff of acknowledgment, wagging his tail though he's focused on the situation at hand. Inessa prepares a Vulnerability Hex, finding the time to speak after she unleashes it and stares firing with her staff again. "This should help!"

She braces herself for the resulting roar, not certain the boat won't capsize even with all their efforts.

She grits her teeth as they pull back together, looking all around them. She took another blast of ice, going again and again at it. "I'm not entirely certain how much we could help in this case - let's try to get them to the shore!"

That perks Inessa up and she quickly nods. "If we can lure them to a tide pool or beach them, Christine could dissect--" And she has to freeze a tentacle in place before it smacks them. "Let's do this sooner than later? Can you steer, while I attack?"

"What is a Forces mage for?" Her smile was fierce, a reminder that she was a Hawke after all. She stood in the boat, calling out to Garahel. "Hold tight, pup! We're about to take a ride."

She swung her staff around, took a bottle of lyrium from her side and swallowed it down, magic surging from her as she began to shift the boat towards the shore.

Garahel barks and braces himself, the solid wall of muscle not easily unseated but taking her advice nonetheless. As Bethany guides them toward the shore, Inessa fires off a few shots to make certain that it's following, before smacking it with a Misdirection Hex. Might as well pile on a Death Hex, too; they'll need to take it down as quick as possible, in order to have a chance.

Bethany uses the Fist of the Maker to shove the entire boat towards the shore in a rapid pace, her eyes narrowed on the shore as she yelled behind her, "I'm going to beach us! Hold tight, Inessa!"

And she did just that, slamming the boat into the sandbar rising up out of the water to meet them. With that, she turns and immediately slams the creature following them with Pull of the Abyss, dragging it into the center of Forces created maelstrom. She leapt out onto the shore.

"Now! Let's finish this!"

Inessa crouches and holds on as tight as she can, hoping that Garahel is buffer enough for them both. When boat slams into the sandbar, she staggers out along with her companion. For a moment, she's almost sick, but through sheer willpower, the elven mage is able to hold that off long enough to slam her staff into the ground. Cue Firestorm, pelting the creature with flaming meteors. Steam rises from the water as some of them strike it, but most hit dead on target.

Bethany puts one hand on Garahel to maintain her balance, and to use as something to block her from falling face first into the sand. As Firestorm rages through the beast, Bethany follows it up with Blizzard, frying the creature and then freezing it and the water around it.

"Ready?" She's got Maker's Fist primed next, to finish the creature off, now made brittle from both of their attacks.

Garahel's set to go right after Bethany's spell, leaping to rake and gouge whatever he can reach. It's not as easy when he knows Inessa doesn't want him to bite down and accidentally swallow any of that red lyrium, but he'll make up for it with enthusiasm. Meanwhile, Inessa sets a Death Hex upon the beast. Whatever they do to it now should make short work of it, or so she direly hopes. With that in mind, she sends bolts of cleansing lightning, everything a red lyrium sea creature should hate.

Bethany let loose with her Maker's fist, and from above and below, the creature shattered into small chunks, cleansing out parts of the red lyrium. She let out a shuddering breath as the creature shrieked and parted into a million little pieces, falling into the water.

She leaned on Inessa, breathing out sharply. ".... One down, fifty to go?"

Inessa's shoulders sag in relief, and for a moment she can't respond as it takes a few deep breaths for her to feel steady. The voyage there had sapped her strength, leaving her more winded than usual.

"Maker, I don't want to think about doing that forty-nine more times. And if they're tainted, imagine what the sea floor is like...." She shudders a little at that, genuinely unnerved thinking about how far and fast this could spread.

Bethany exhaled again, knowing that her reserves were drained and she was going to need time to get back her magic, unless she was willing to take on more lyrium. Her lips pressed together as she considered everything that Inessa said, before she exhaled and took out two more bottles, handing one over to her.

"Then we best get that bridge up and running, so we can all retreat safely."

"Right." Taking the lyrium bottle, she nods before downing its contents. That restores enough strength to her to continue, at least for now. It's better than they get as much done as possible, before lives are lost.

"I'm ready when you are." Garahel barks. He's ready as well.

Bethany puts one hand on Garahel's head, smiling softly, before she nodded at Inessa.

"Then let's do this."

She stepped forward, her staff blazing, her gaze sharp as she prepares her first ice spell.

"Following your lead, Warden Bethany." Inessa renews their barrier out of habit, then joins Bethany in creating ice. Garahel stands guard, ready to act if anything threatening comes within range.

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THE SEAS SHALL RISE & DEVOUR, Part I

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The truly terrifying power of two trained mages...

Mwahaha!

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