faderifting: (Default)
Fade Rift Mods ([personal profile] faderifting) wrote in [community profile] faderift2016-05-16 08:35 pm

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.
qunari: (pic#9554398)

[personal profile] qunari 2016-05-27 03:17 pm (UTC)(link)
"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!"
colecomfort: (what's done is done)

[personal profile] colecomfort 2016-05-27 03:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Cole imagines it — can see the potential beneath the offer.

"Sand dunes rising in waves, stone cracking and crumbling, reducing to dust." It's almost a relief to think about, and that relief is reflected in his voice, and yet —

"Not until we're finished." Despite his fears, he still has a sense of what must be done.
qunari: (pic#9554406)

[personal profile] qunari 2016-05-27 03:43 pm (UTC)(link)
It barely even seems to slow down, twisting and writhing, its whole body snapping like a whip being cracked as it wheels about to take a chunk out of Bull's side. It's quick reflexes that has the pommel of his axe jamming upwards into the creature's jaw to fend it backwards.

Snarling, it takes to circling around them, or attempting to. Splitting them up seems a good way to put Anders in more danger than necessary, and before it gets too far Bull lets out a low growl himself, lowering his head and charging forward. Keeping its attention squarely on him seems a better bet than watching the mage get torn to shreds by those nasty-looking claws.
qunari: (pic#9843626)

[personal profile] qunari 2016-05-27 03:57 pm (UTC)(link)
"Wouldn't go that far. Got sand in places I didn't even know I had," he grunts in return. "Horns itch something awful, too. But I've been in worse spots. Rather this than some bog or swamp. You got a clear line of sight, a good wind for carrying scent, and not a lot of good places for an ambush."

Sure, there were downsides to hiking around a desert, but nothing that couldn't be overlooked or preventable. Keeping people hydrated? Definitely a part of that.

Though they'd have to be sparing until another water source could be found. His own swig off the skein is relatively meager in comparison.
seesobserves: (taking it in)

[personal profile] seesobserves 2016-05-27 04:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Sherlock is, for the most part, silent and vigilant throughout his watch. In his silence, he's grateful for the additional eye — even while knowing that if The Iron Bull sees a need to start swinging that weapon of his, they're already in trouble. Much more preferable if the darkspawn can be picked off from a distance.

He thumbs the grenade around in his palm again.

His observations can't tell him just what the Bull is thinking, but he can see the cant of his shoulders, the tilt of a head, that tells them there's something on his mind other than simple attentiveness.

"You must have killed darkspawn during the Blight." Because everyone did — everyone who could handle a weapon at the time and is still around to tell the tale. Mercenary work's less likely to put someone in their path, but during those years? It was more a matter of survival.
seesobserves: (the frayed edges)

[personal profile] seesobserves 2016-05-27 04:45 pm (UTC)(link)
"The pillar's shape does suggest a general direction." Which is a terribly imprecise interpretation, but more than nothing. "Roughly southwest."

Which would lead them farther toward the edge of the map.
qunari: (pic#9843623)

[personal profile] qunari 2016-05-27 04:58 pm (UTC)(link)
"You think so?" It's neutral as responses go, the barest glimmer of interest there, most of his focus still seemingly on the barren landscape around them. Good line of sight here, not much in the way of hiding spots for ambushes, which is his preference. They'll see a threat coming from a ways off.

Which gives them time to shoot the shit, if that's what Sherlock's really after. Somehow, he doubts he's doing more than needling for details. He had seemed very pleased with himself for figuring out that Bull was a spy, after all.

He hums briefly, thoughtful. "You only got stragglers, this far north. Bulk of the horde would have been in Ferelden. Didn't visit much."
quietblade: (neutral)

Taashath | OTA

[personal profile] quietblade 2016-05-27 06:26 pm (UTC)(link)
I

Taas was pretty used to heat, having frown up on Par Vollen... but that was a humid, wet heat mixed with heavy plantlife and shade. This place had no shade, and was hot enough that he was pretty certain sweat just evaporated off his skin. His dark skin helped a bit, at least, but he still covers up a bit to keep the worst of the sun away.

Well. At least until after their first fight. Venatori were tough to fight, but damn it if wasn't a good challenge!

...then there was the dragon. Fuck, he could almost not contain himself the first time he saw it flying overhead. It was gorgeous. So massive, so powerful. The strongest creature he had ever seen.

Taashath wanted to fight her... or at least touch her scales.

II

Griffon Wing Keep was... sandy. A real fixer-upper, but it provided a little shade and a good place to lay down your bedroll and weapon between excursions. It didn't provide too much rest, however, as Taas spent a lot of time helping others to carry and lift stone in order to clear out more space.

Pausing between rocks, he takes a drink of water and rubs back his braided hair. The sun was high, it was probably time for lunch.

IV

Coracavus was a mess, even though abandoned. There was far too much death here, wrongful and tainted - not only by Darkspawn.

Taas walked through the ruins, picking up a body here and there to add to the pyre. These people didn't deserve to be forgotten in the sand, after all.
quietblade: (speaking)

V

[personal profile] quietblade 2016-05-27 06:41 pm (UTC)(link)
"How are you holding up?" Taas asks softly while he comes to fight next to her. Magic and a big lightsaberblade could do some really nice damage together with his dragon tooth maul, after all.

He wasn't exactly happy about this, either, but after Seheron... well, he could dissociate with the best of them. Fight now, handle the mess later. (Or never.) Korrin, on the other hand? Well, she was strong, but shit had a tendency to hit a peak sooner or later.

quietblade: (smiling)

keep

[personal profile] quietblade 2016-05-27 06:45 pm (UTC)(link)
The big warrior comes over to the brazier to join her, bringing what looks like a bottle of some mystery liquor and a friendly smile. "You look like shit. Lena, right?"
quietblade: (questioning)

[personal profile] quietblade 2016-05-27 06:48 pm (UTC)(link)
"...this is the weirdest shit I've ever seen, but it works," Taas says as he's handed one of the glasses for his watch. "I'm kind of amazed we don't have these in Par Vollen. It would help a lot."

Peering down at her, he gives her a small smile. "How's things here? We got a lot of wounded?"
serannas: serious (ghilan'him)

[personal profile] serannas 2016-05-27 06:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Grateful for the save, Ellana takes his hand and gets up, tightening her grip on her staff with the opposite hand.

"I'm fine," she answers. "Thank you. Better to get away fast than let a fire glyph consume me, right?" Her eyes dart around to see how everyone else is doing, and it looks like the Inquisition is coming out on top.

"Let's get upstairs. It looks like the top level of the keep."
quietblade: (speaking)

V

[personal profile] quietblade 2016-05-27 06:53 pm (UTC)(link)
"Blackwall, right?" The voice of the massive warrior is quite soft for someone of his kind, careful to not disturb others. It had been a really shit day and he had seen more than his share of horrors.

It had left a bad taste in everyone's mouth, it seemed. Taas had been looking for a good place to sit and have a bit of his rations when he noticed the bearded man... and fuck, being alone and dealing with this shit was not easy.

"How are you holding up?"
fightingdirty: (9913343)

[personal profile] fightingdirty 2016-05-27 06:55 pm (UTC)(link)
Lena hasn't realized how much she's missed being surrounded by her fellow horned people until now. So even though she doesn't smile back, her posture eases into something less tense and angry.

"Yeah, Lena. 'Stupid enough to get talked out into this wasteland of sand Lena.' It's not much of a title." She looks him up and down before adding, "Taas or Metaari?" Because Korrin has told her about everybody already.
quietblade: (softer)

[personal profile] quietblade 2016-05-27 07:06 pm (UTC)(link)
"It's got a good ring to it, though. Descriptive." He shrugs a bit and holds out the bottle to her after having a swig. It's just water, unfortunately.

"I'm Taas. Metaari is a rogue," he says with a small shrug. "...bigger than the kid, though." He doubts he has to mention that, but it's good to be clear. Right? Taas, the warrior. Metaari the rogue. Kid, the kid. (Kas, was it?) Now three strong women.

A nice little kith, to be honest.

"How are you holding up?"
fightingdirty: (10187579)

[personal profile] fightingdirty 2016-05-27 07:48 pm (UTC)(link)
She takes the bottle, swirls the liquid inside and gives it a sniff. A lot of people have been offering her drinks here, and her first inclination is to assume poison. And that's because pretty much the only reason she'd offer someone a drink (besides someone in the Valo-Kas) is because they're a target and she is trying to poison them. All this Inquisition niceness is weird. Somebody throw a punch or something.

But once she sees that it is, in fact, water, she takes a swig.

"Too much fucking sand," she answers, now knowing to let him see her mouth as she speaks, since Korrin has been descriptive enough in her letters. "And not enough results. Spent all day chasing after Venatori to see they cleared out and left an open tunnel with darkspawn behind. Oh, and there was a giant too. Of course."
el_tybs: Evan Antin (Default)

II

[personal profile] el_tybs 2016-05-27 08:42 pm (UTC)(link)
It's always amazing to see just how much the warrior was capable of lifting, but after watching for some time it was obvious that Taas was forgoing his own rest to do all this. Grabbing a water skin, Sam moves to where the large man has finally taken a rest, making sure to get within his line of sight.

For the sake of getting into the habit of using it, Sam signs a greeting, a simple 'hello'. "You shouldn't try pushing yourself too much. Not out here."
el_tybs: Evan Antin (Default)

IV

[personal profile] el_tybs 2016-05-27 08:55 pm (UTC)(link)
Sam falters a bit longer than Fate, a hand coming up to press against his mouth and nose at the sight and smells coming from this particular area. He's quiet, save for the small muttering behind his hand to no one in particular, as his brows furrow in disgust and anger.

The silence stretches on for a time as they continue to look around, until Sam hears Fate saying something. Sam raises a brow in turn, moving closer to the other mage to see what he has. "You found something?"
twelvelabours: (pic#9367099)

[personal profile] twelvelabours 2016-05-27 09:17 pm (UTC)(link)
"Sounds like a good enough tactic to me," he agrees, a smile in his voice that doesn't quite make it to his face.

With a nod Herc starts for the stairs. Three adversaries approach from the top of the stairwell - the first he batters with his shield to knock him down, before swinging his sword to meet with the second in a clang of metal against metal that is swallowed by the sounds of the battle continuing about them.
sistertohermen: (fate of ferelden)

[personal profile] sistertohermen 2016-05-27 09:22 pm (UTC)(link)
It feels like there's something he wants to say and isn't saying it. Like she's supposed to just know what it is. And if he keeps it up, she's going to have to get damned cross with him. Why do people always have to talk around everything instead of getting to the point? Makes things so much easier.

She knows she's stubborn about the topic. That Wardens exist for a reason, and one that's saved a lot of lives. But there aren't any praises for the likes of her kind that have troops that battle back the darkspawn when there's no blight every day. You're welcome, surfacers.

But when there's a job to be done--a demon to slay, probably--she's focused and at the ready. She takes up her sword and dagger, nodding and following. The primary threat may have left, but it's still plenty dangerous here.
serannas: serious (16)

[personal profile] serannas 2016-05-27 09:23 pm (UTC)(link)
While the first Venatori is stunned on the ground, Ellana works to take him out, keeping a safe distance behind the rest and their swinging swords. She uses spells that will continue to weaken and not allow the enemy to easily come out of his stupor. The less aware he is, the less he'll try to join the fight. As Ellana fires spells, she darts her eyes to see how Hercules is doing and if that third Venatori has made a move yet.
sistertohermen: (Default)

[personal profile] sistertohermen 2016-05-27 09:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Dirt and stone she knows. But. She's not miner caste. The terms confuse her. A table of water under the ground...? "I don't know. But yeah. Dig for more water. People could even start drawing baths to keep themselves cool. Wouldn't that be a blessing." Her shoulders sag. "Okay. So. Magical hole down on the side of the keep. Also, water issues. Also, that rope is definitely strong enough to climb down. Hopefully it'll survive us climbing back up."
sistertohermen: (joy in a joyless world)

[personal profile] sistertohermen 2016-05-27 09:36 pm (UTC)(link)
"Oh...oh!" It was such a simple thing, a small thing, but her eyes lit up in the dusk. Sometimes she felt stupid for asking what seemed like basic questions, but only sometimes. "That's very clever!" Not something she ever had to worry about back home, with her infrequent doodles of cubic forms. Besides, what would she have used, dust? Ha. "Doesn't it dry to the paper, though?"
sistertohermen: (Default)

[personal profile] sistertohermen 2016-05-27 09:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Rachette shook her head, sitting herself by Bethany cross-legged. "I don't think I'll ever understand mages. Or magic. Mostly magic."
tactical_alert: (Default)

[personal profile] tactical_alert 2016-05-27 10:01 pm (UTC)(link)
"When I see a body," he said, simply. He must be out there somewhere, and the rest of the order. The possibility that they're all dead does play out in his head, but with their skills and their...unclear mission, he doesn't think it a terribly likely possibility.

"Those of you who live in the camp. You are still members of the Inquisition, or helpful to the cause. You aren't part of...this madness. You may be unpopular now, but your say has just as much as any other, if the advisors are worth their salt."