open: something grabs ahold of me tightly

[faderifting]

WHO: Inquisition Forces
WHAT: Inquisition forces cross the mountains into Orlais to deal with Emprise du Lion
WHEN: Wintermarch 25 onward
WHERE: EMPRISE DU LION
NOTES: This is a mingle-style log for the Inquisition camps, local tavern, and general/open Inquisition work, etc.

This time they hike down to the west, but the trip through the mountains is no easier. The snow is heaped up about the road where wagons have pushed it aside, stomped into slippery pack beneath the feet and hooves that have gone before. Of the main track it is ankle deep at best and in places it drifts, waist-deep on a tall man and enough to bury a dwarf who hasn't come prepared with snowshoes. Everywhere the wind howls, biting cold, and the sky hangs low, a pale flat grey that makes it difficult to judge distances. Those who know winter weather call it a snow sky, and near-daily squalls prove them right.

They set up camp in Sahrnia, across the broad expanse of frozen river that has trapped the villagers here upstream. Tents pop up in rows and in the shells of tumbled-down buildings, fires blazing and thawing the ground to mud. When the supply wagons roll in they re-open the local tavern, brightly lit with flaking paint on the walls that might once have been colorful and patterned tiles on the floor that seems to swim like an optical illusion after too many glasses of the cheap red wine that fills the cellars.

Even deadlier reds hold the hills: Red Templar sightings have been frequent and it is said they are operating in several locations in the region in significant force. Some of these men and women have become hulking, crystalline beasts. Many others are in the earlier stages of corruption: red-veined and -eyed, aggressive and superhumanly strong, but still visibly human and coherent if spoken to. Red lyrium is even easier to find, jutting out of the ground or cliffsides, filling caves-- the Tower of Bone, a fortress that has stood for centuries, now threatens to split from the inside out. The area's wildlife was none too friendly before, but now the wolves and bears have begun to be corrupted by the lyrium and many will attack on sight, without provocation. (The snofleurs that bumble harmlessly around the river seem unaffected.)

Everywhere there are ruins: broken bridges, crumbling colosseums, and the great hulking mass of Suledin's Keep tucked between the distant hills. Scouts reported that Red Templars hold it as well.

RIFTER ARRIVAL - SAHRNIA - THE HILLS - TOWER CAMP - A HANDY MAP

Comments

THE HILLS

[faderifting]

Beyond the village and the Inquisition's encampment, Emprise du Lion is spotted everywhere with red. Complete secrecy is no longer an option, but Inquisition scouts will still be asked to press ahead to observe activity at the southern mines, where the Red Templars are attempting to set up a mining operation, and watch Suledin's Keep, an elven ruin currently occupied by the Red Templars and several chained giants.

Meanwhile, others will attack smaller outposts and bands of Red Templars to force them back, further from the village. A handful of cages holding recently-kidnapped villagers who have not been transported all the way to the mines may be recoverable.

Both the Red Templars and the Inquisition will face an additional enemy: bears, wolves, and other wildlife suffering from both prolonged red lyrium exposure and the hunger of a long, harsh winter will be even more aggressive than usual. And in addition to fighting or fending off the Red Templars and aggressive wildlife, the Inquisition has to contend with the red lyrium itself. Unsafe to handle or to be around for extended periods of time, it will need to be avoided or somehow destroyed.

Those who fail to avoid the red lyrium well enough may become subtly more aggressive, possessive, and paranoid as the days stretch on. The Inquisition's leadership is on watch for this behavior and will send anyone who they observe to begin acting strangely back to the main camp in Sahrnia to recover.

Rogue help, please?

[gatheringstorm]

[Ever since first seeing those Maker-damned cages, Korrin's been itching to return and break open as many as she can. That there is even anyone still left alive within them seems a miracle, and not one she's going to let slip through her fingers. Spotting those handful of cages which have yet to reach the quarry, the Vashoth mage takes only the time needed to gather proper help, someone who can open those cage doors while she distracts the Red Templars in the area. Tense but glad to finally be doing more, Korrin keeps her voice to a whisper.]

Do what you can, I'll cover you. Go.

[With that, she'll center an explosion for maximum effect, and then blur in close to swing at the nearest one with her spirit blade.]

[dalishious]

[ Merrick had remained well out of sight of the Templars, following Korrin through shadows, up in trees and along the mountainside. He picks off the monstrosities as he goes, aiding Korrin whenever he can (though with that spirit blade, she barely needs it, and Merrick finds the entire thing awesome).

He hurries to the first cage. The people inside had been huddled toward the back, but one moves forward as Merrick approaches. He seems tentative, as Merrick isn't exactly friendly-looking.

Merrick doesn't care. He starts working at the lock, trying to ignore the pleading of the villagers. ]

Shut up or I'll leave you here.

[foxsays]

[Emprise du Lion is worse than what she expected, something that would be impressive were it not so utterly depressing a thing to think. Still she is here, as she said she would be, though not so quick in the deep snow as she is over the wet bog-ridden terrain of the Fallow Mire. Flexing her fingers to keep them from seizing up in the cold, she's ready to move as soon as Korrin gives the command.]

Be careful.

[Maybe it's a touch patronising but hearing Korrin so upset and knowing that this is what it stemmed from? Well maybe a reminder wouldn't go amiss as she hurries to kneel in the snow by the nearest cage, lockpicks in hand.

Usually a lock is a door to a house, a window up to a bedroom, a safe or lockbox with valuables within, not freezing people in clothes she wouldn't even tear into rags to scrub a floor with, the lock a great heavy thing to hold the chains in place.

But a lock is a lock, even when she gasps to feel the cold of it in her hand as she starts working, forcing herself not to keep glancing behind her.]

[aceso]

{ making notes on red lyrium deposits }
Christine is relieved to be back in the area despite the cold weather, because the townspeople need the Inquisition's help. Surely some have died from exposure or worse since their scouting team was last here. She's not one to get herself into combat, so Christine stays back until areas are said to be cleared out before she goes forward, making notes on the number of red lyrium deposits and their location on her makeshift map. Once the chaos has settled, they'll need to retrieve samples, but this stuff is so dangerous that they simply can't do it while avoiding arrows or bashes from a shield. At least she can send this information back to the camp so in the coming days, the troops know to avoid it.


{ fighting a bear because reasons }
At one point, she and a few others are set upon by a bear charging down the snow covered hill. Christine retreats to a safe distance before firing spells at it. But she could definitely use some help. She's not very skilled in combat, though she has been taking lessons! At least she's not screaming?

Red Lyrium Deposits

[gatheringstorm]

Having helped recently clear the area for further Inquisition use, Korrin's still around when Christine begins taking notes. For her part, the Vashoth mage eyes those unholy red spikes with a healthy amount of caution, and tries to warn others to keep away from them. Seeing their effects on the Red Templars she's fought is enough for her to never want anything to do with the substance. Watching Christine, Korrin lingers nearby, trusting the other mage to take care of herself but still unsure what will come of studying all this.

"You know, I have to lean towards Varric on this one. I can't believe anything good will come of that crap. We ought to destroy what we can, at least the deposits close to town." The thought of those villagers as of yet uncaptured being exposed makes her fidget.

christine you're getting a slanket

[hlif]

Newly joined up and just up a mountain, one might think that Asher would be content to hang out back at Skyhold, enjoying the delights of the Herald's Rest and clattering into people in the training yard, maybe picking fights with Templars. Not likely. He's being paid to work, not to sit on his arse and let others get all the glory so he's in the Emprise, ostensibly keeping watch because he's a big lad with a giant axe.

He hears the bear from where he's up on a ridge, immediately charging down because thankfully he's used to fire thanks to Amalia.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" The bellow catches the bear's attention as he slams into it, rolling and coming around to smack it in the face with the flat of his blade. "Oh you're an ugly one aren't you?"

[serannas]

{ watching suledin's keep }
Ellana perches herself on a boulder, peeking around cover towards the impressive structure rising towards the clouds. So this was once a fortress of her people. Suledin means to endure, but not towards victory. It means to endure to withstand loss. A fitting name for a place that was lost to her people long ago. From inside the keep, there is the sound of something loud crashing, and the ground shakes. There are giants inside, she's heard. She wonders how much of the ruin inside the Red Templars are allowing these foul creatures to destroy.

Moving to sit back, she says to one of her fellow watchers, "I think we're just supposed to report back if anymore Red Templars enter or leave, right?"


{ the next day, attacking red templars }
It seems every few meters another band of Red Templars appears, holding up progress through the twisted paths. Ellana launches a fire spell at one, leaving him panicked and fleeing. He'll be back once the feeling wears off, if no one kills him first. She and others work their way through, step by step, until they come to their goal: a large cage containing a half dozen freezing townspeople.

"Let us out, please!" one cries, and Ellana looks around the group.

"Please tell me someone can pick locks."

Attacking Red Templars?

[the_effect_she_has]

"I've got it." Katniss stepped forward, putting an arrow through a Red Templar's eye as he came screaming up at them with his sword. She hooked her bow to her back, reaching for the small kit that all the 'baby rogues' were starting to carry about with them after Zevran's lessons.

She looked over at the others, and Ellana. "Ellana, throw down a barrier over the cage, please? Can everyone else cover me?"

She really didn't want to get stabbed in the back while she was working this open.

[stabsbooks]

[ She had hoped that they might have left the bears behind in the Hinterlands - but naturally, that's not the case. These are not as large as some she'd fought, but they are mean, and hungry. Cassandra takes it on herself to act as a sort of watch for those she accompanies, alert for either Red Templars or wildlife, often running ahead to meet both before they can pose a threat to the less hardy members of her party.

When she's not actively slaughtering bears, she tromps along in the snow, expression somber and strained and shoulders hunched up against the cold. ]

[fightingale]

( It has been a long time since Leliana was in the field. The crystals, however, and the comparative closeness of Emprise du Lion to Skyhold made particular expedition have a certain appeal. And if she were to say that the thought of being in the heart of things, of using her own senses instead of gathering intel from her agents, was not a huge part of the appeal? Well, she would be lying.

Long has she held the opinion that the Left hand belonged in the shadows, and the Right was more suited to the light. Leliana's actions took the Divine's business where chivalry and honour could not, and so too did it stand with the Inquisition. Cassandra was dangerous, oh, without doubt. But Leliana was the unseen danger, the water under fractured ice, a knife hidden away under find vestments.

She is lost in thought, a moment, leaning against a tree with one arm crossed over her chest, and the opposite hand resting against her chin. Her gaze and her smile are sharp, and she moves from the shadow of the great pine to head down the hill towards her colleague, bow at her back and hands swinging with a false easiness. )

Cassandra. ( Did Leliana tell her that she was coming along? Probably not. At least Cullen and Josephine know... probably. ) I did not expect to see you here.

( Yes, yes she did. )

[aceso]

[ Thank Andraste that a seasoned warrior is here with Christine. She's just a simple, former Circle mage, meant to heal people and not kill them. But she needs to find these deposits of red lyrium so she can mark them on her map for retrieval and for destroying the rest later. She doesn't trust anyone else to do what she can do herself, but Red Templars and wild animals are a problem. ]

Thank you again, Seeker. I should not be much longer, and then we can return to camp. I would not force anyone to stay exposed to this red lyrium for long.

[chainlightning]

[ While Cassandra tromps through the snow, she may notice tracks -- lightly shod (but, thankfully, wearing shoes), with a third mark that more or less screams staff -- that veers away from the more traveled paths. The staff in question is propped up just a bit further, against a tree, and its bearer is on the ground in the snow.

Moving her arms back and forth.

If Thedas has angels, Merrill wouldn't think to call what she's making one; instead, she considers them snow butterflies, and giggles a little even as she sits up to see who's walking. ]

[byblow]

[ Alistair's anger isn't directionless, exactly; the issue is more that it is aimed in too many directions. The Inquisition isn't helping the Wardens first. The Wardens only need help because of Clarel. Clarel has only gone mad because of a blighted Tevinter advisor. Wardens from hundreds of years ago made poor choices. Hawke interfered. Weisshaupt is useless. There are so many people to blame that he doesn't have much vitriol for any one of them in particular.

So he looks troubled, maybe, when he falls into step alongside Cassandra on the path between two of the Inquisition's smaller camps. Troubled, sulky. But not furious. Not with her. ]

Seeker Pentaghast. [ He doesn't have permission for this. He probably should have asked for it. He's no longer the senior Warden at Skyhold; he's no longer even close. But he's having trouble caring about that lately. ] I need to talk to you about Corypheus.

[keeperofmagi]

It was after Alayre's misguided speech on the sending crystals, and the subsequent conversations, that Nerva purposely went searching for Cassandra. The thought had been in the back of her mind for weeks, now, but it was very much at the front of her mind now. So she bundled up against the cold - dark black fur cloak over the shining templar armour, and went out in search of the Seeker.

It took quite a few questions of other soldiers, some muffled grunts and some pointing, before she found the woman, trudging through the country side off to kill bears (or so she'd been told).

"Seeker Pentaghast," She called as she approached. "I would have a word, if you would grant it to me."

[dragondowner]

It was a cruel twist of fate but, when muffled and indisposed in some awkward way, Hiccup's cries for assistance often sounded more menacing than his best and most ferocious battle cry. At the moment, face first, lodged in a bush inside a snowbank, his sharp, hissed mutterings, coupled with the violent shaking of the (extremely thorny) bush around him made him sound rather like an incised badger.

He'd been stuck in this bush for somewhere on the order of an hour, having tripped, headlong into it while escaping from a series of very hungry and very wily wolves. While he had successfully evaded the wolves, now he was tangled in a bramble with no leverage and no foreseeable way to extricate himself.

Wonderful.

[wickedchase]

♠ WATCHING SULEDIN'S KEEP ♠
Well, this is a right bore, isn't it?

[But it's safe enough. Twisted Fate is crouched in his position, his eyes scanning over the Red Templars as they work. He'd heard about the giants, and quietly wishes he had Korrin's company. After all, at least she has some experience in giant-baiting.

That's one up on him.]

So how many giants do you think they have? I'm guessing no more than three.

♠ BEARS. ♠

[The winter and red lyrium are unkind to the local animals, and quickly Twisted Fate has discovered this when a pair of temperamental bears decided he was going to be chased.]

Marvelous.

[So, Twisted Fate is running by you and shouting as he passes:] Probably don't want to stick around!

[Because: bears.]

The Hills

[judgemewhole]

Forcing Them Back

What is the most effective way to attack Red Templars?

Norrington would have to say - with other Templars, although the ways that the mages are tearing through them like paper is fairly impressive as well. Still, it feels good out on the field again, even if the grim duty that lies ahead is fighing their own brothers and sisters who have lost their way so badly Norrington is not sure what the Maker will make of them.

These thoughts are swept away, as another ream of Red Templars charge forward through the opening in the hills, and Norrington raises his sword, yelling at the top of his lungs, "FOR THE INQUISITION! FOR THE ORDER!"

Around him - Burns, Gilette, Anamaria, Giselle, Gibbs, Murtogg, and Mullroy yell in turn, and they charge forward into the fray together, diamond formation, splintering through the Red Templars like so many pins on a grass bowling set. Norrington can see the other soldiers around them - he cuts down at Red Templar before he can have the chance to stab an archer in the back, then swings around and slams his shield into one that is about to take the head off a mage.

Wildcard

BEHEMOTH - Closed to Adelaide

[judgemewhole]

They were starting to make progress up the Hill, almost to the ridge itself, when the roar echoed down the line. Norrington, at the fore, looked up to see the Behemoth lumbering up over the ridge. He let out a curse and bellowed, "Re-group!"

Alas, it was too late, as the Behemoth swung and scattered his men back and forth with it's giant fist. Norrington let out a curse, before he slammed down the visor to his helmet, moving to the side to circle the beast, to try and figure out the best way to attack it.

There had be be a weakness, somewhere, but how to take advantage of that?

His people were crumpled across the landscape, and he knew he would have to think fast before the creature crushed them - and himself.

Red Templars & Bull's Tent

[qunari]

Red Templars

[ It's easy to divorce yourself from the idea that these are men, with families and histories and places they might have been otherwise, when the red lyrim's done you the favor of turning them into bonafide monsters. Bull's usually good about putting himself in the right mindset for these fights, but it goes quicker than usual. These guys are taking villagers, staining the countryside in that sickly crimson glow. One look at them and you can see the humanity dying behind those glistening red eyes.

Assholes gotta go down. It's as simple as that.

Bull can usually be found where the fighting is thickest, giving them a nice big target and drawing their focus while the others take their shots from the flank and from a distance. He takes a hit? He keeps going, stronger, angrier than before. Even the roar of a behemoth gives him little pause before wheeling back to whack the big ugly in the face with a swing of his axe.

Fights don't come much more clear cut than this. ]

Back at the Tent

[ The days feel longer than they really are, but nights stretch even longer still. Even the fire in the camps can't do much to dispel the cold and dark, and the noise in the wood says there's more out there just as pissed off about it all. Could be fennecs. Could just as easily not be.

But the camp's relatively quiet, all told, and Bull's got a tent to himself. Best place to patch his wounds, work out some sort muscles, and relax, out of the elements for long enough to get some rest.

Or to chat, if someone's of a mind to drop in. Not like there's anyone else in there to bother, at the moment. ]

wolves!! [closed to sabine]

[offortune]

[ It turns out they weren't kidding about the wolves.

Rafael learns this the hard way when he finds himself on a path not so very far from Sahrnia in the first shadows of dusk. He is mere yards from the main road, from being within sight of the village down the hill and the torches of the camp at its side. The sun has only just sunk below the mountains. A man should not have to worry, in conditions like these. He should be able to lug his pack down to warmth and safety without being forced to draw his sword.

And yet here he is, with the strap of his satchel clutched around his fist and swung like a makeshift flail, clumsily, the contents flopping about inside the canvas. In his other hand his blade, a sword that seems narrower than he remembers, a trick of the fading light perhaps. He lunges forward and dances back, but still the three wolves advance, all spindly limbs and slavering maws, eyes reflecting the horizon's red glow.

They are too smart for beasts, Rafael is just grumbling aloud, too smart by half, spreading out to catch him in a triangle. He parries an advance, pricks a shoulder, brushes back snapping jaws with a heave of his bag. If he were not so quick on his feet he would have bites out of him already but the snow is shin-deep and three against one is hardly sporting. He is not about to cry for help, but he will let the wolves know precisely what he thinks of them in a running commentary of angry Antivan curses. ]

Harding. Watching Suledin, multiple options

[lacere]

ONE
[The first thing to do is climb. Climb a rockface, climb a tree, climb anything to get a vantage in the hills surrounding the Keep, the landscape that has had some detail passed along to her through the scout knowledge chain but she has yet to see for herself. Harding dresses warmly, bow hoisted over her shoulder, scraps of mixed fabric pieced together to hide the glint of chainmail and metal in the snow as she and the group with her scramble up the rock face and then crouch, creeping closer and closer towards the fortress. It'll be easier once they reach the walls, where there's more cover. Out here, there's snow, and trees, and tracks. Which she'll remind you to erase if you don't. Safety first.]

TWO
[Once close enough, she spends some time watching the giants. The giants gave themselves away long ago, with the eerie, low howls, the occasional stomps that shook the nearest hilltops. Just what exactly are they doing with them? How long has this been going on?]

THREE
[Later still, Harding settles in to wait on a ridge that's further away to the keep, but does provide a view of its highest reaches, as only the underlings seem to have been sent out into Emprise itself, so far. There's not much to see, but she keeps herself steady in her crouch, bow over her knees, eyes fixed on one point, unmoving. Many would have given up or looked away by now, bored. But not Harding.]

Evie Frye | red lyrium, bears & wolves, open

[resought]

RED LYRIUM DEPOSITS
[A skirmish broke out, the Inquisition soldiers won. Common occurance. But as the group pressed on, Evie lingered behind, presented with opportunity to observe red lyrium.

At Theirinfall, after the Herald had been, she had seen what had been destroyed. It was dull, lifeless. But this was different. Arching magic, pulling from its surface, almost like lightning. And a song. An eerie song.

She is not under its thrall, at this moment. She knows it must be destroyed, and that it will take so long, if that's even possible, given how far it's likely to have spread. Something like this you don't just eradicate. It lingers, after. Festers.

But why does it do what it does? What is it? Those are questions she wants to answer, as she observes, even if she knows she will not be able to.]


BEARS AND WOLVES
[At this moment, Evie Frye, Red Jenny, was up a tree.

For a tall human woman, she seemed quite contented with being up a tree - balanced on a thick branch at least half way up, elbow crooked for support, one boot pressed firmly against the tree trunk and the other held loosely in the gap between branch and tree, and in her other hand, a knife. It was as though she did this every day.

The scowl, however? That gave away that she was not happy about being stuck up a tree. At the bottom, was a bear, and two wolves.

The wolves had been first. There had been five to start with, actually, but one had gone in search of its kin, she assumed, and two more were dead thanks to some well timed knife throws on her part. It was difficult to throw wolves in the midst of a hunt, with all the noise they made, so she'd headed towards the ice covered river in an attempt to lose them or bed rid of them for good... where a bear just had to be choosing that exact moment to go fishing. Paw raised over an errant fish below a recently made ice hole, Evie had slammed into it and cost the bear its prize, adding to the list of animals that wanted her blood today.

And so she had escaped to the tallest tree she could find. But even with competition, they still would not leave her alone.] Andraste's arse. [She cursed, rolling her eyes. She could afford some knives on the wolves, but the bear? Absurd.] Go find someone else to bother, would you? I'm not planning on coming down anytime soon!

Looting Red Templar Bodies - Closed to Varric

[harthad_uluithiad]

He'd wanted to help, and now here he was. Sam wasn't sure quite what he had expected. Something heroic, maybe. Araceli had told him all about the people being forced to work for the Red Templars, caged and starving. The hobbit knew he wasn't like to be much help actually fighting those who had enslaved the people here, but - well, he'd be lying if he claimed he hadn't fantasized a bit about being the one to throw open the doors to the cages, seeing the smiles on people's faces as they emerged out into the sunlight...

Instead, he'd arrived to find a half-empty village and snow. Snow everywhere. He was not, he soon learned, to be involved in rescuing anyone from captivity. Instead his task would be...to search dead bodies for anything of value, and bring it back to camp.

Sam waited, huddled against the cold, for the person he'd be working with. A dwarf by the name of Varric Tethras. Well, at least a dwarf wouldn't walk too fast, and he might have a hope of keeping up.

benevenuta and dorian's tent. closed to benevenuta.

[liberalum]

[ Sleet is coming down in fits and starts by the time Dorian shoulders his way into the warmer, dryer confines of their shared tent. It's late enough that the only people braving the harsh icy winds of the Emprise du Lion hills are those assigned watch duty by pulling the short straw. And Dorian, apparently. He is cloaked in furs purchased from recent Nevarran adventures, although they're immediately thrown off and cast aside, as if to take the outside chill with them.

He is not the picture of dignity, suffice to say. The uneven smudge of his eye makeup looks like he's already slept in it, and he's flushed from adventures of near-running from the bracing chill, and dishevelled in ways not of his own design. But he's turning to secure the tent entrance, cursing under his breath in muttery Tevene. ]