faderift | 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Even with as exasperated as he felt with her, Bruce knew a bad topic when he saw a reaction like this. Instantly he couldn't help but feel apologetic instead, and he inclined his head and flashed her a small smile that hopefully could convey his apology.

"I didn't mean to... I didn't know." He hadn't really been keeping up so much with the Wardens, especially since they decided to move out from most of Skyhold and keep to themselves - understandable, probably, what with Anders and everything. "My apologies."

"It's fine. It's--It's fine." She shifted, squaring her shoulders, and trying to look like a big tough Warden who isn't bothered by anything. "I disagree with what they did, but they did it believing that they were doing their jobs. They died--" She wants to say honorably, but...it's hard. It's hard to believe that it's honorable to die like that, even if she can understand.

Kaisa's frown deepens for a few moments, but she shakes her head, and puts on a smile, instead. Bruce isn't here to be her therapist, or her shoulder to cry on. "--They died doing what they believed was best, and that's the most that anyone can ask for."

She pauses, desperate to change the subject, and that ugly lizard hovering around Bruce provides the perfect distraction. "So, is he your new mount, or did you just need a pet?"

Bruce was hardly convinced by her attempts to cover up the obvious hurt she must be feeling, but he doesn't call her out on it. What reason did he have to? She was a Warden and he was just--he wasn't anybody special. He didn't have a right for anything at all, if he had to be honest. And she could clearly handle herself far better than Bruce could do for himself.

He takes the subject change for what it is, glancing over to the dracolisk and letting out an exasperated breath. "I don't really have a reason to require a mount." And he was the last person to ever have the responsibility required for a pet, so that was pretty much out of the window as well.

"Well, I mean, I obviously don't have one. They're a lotta maintenance, and cost. Unfortunately, being a rogue Warden doesn't pay a lot. And I mean, I could probably just pull my Warden credentials out and make people hand me a horse and feed, but. That's rude. I hate it when Wardens do that when they don't need to." Especially for something like a horse, that would require a great deal of time and effort.

"But I mean, like, the Inquisition is paying you, and they'll take care of the stabling. And then you don't have to walk everywhere like an ass." She cautiously held a hand out to the dracolisk, Puppy rising from the ground to squint at the creature, on guard against possible attacks by this WEIRD THING. "But I mean, you'd have to look at this mug all the time, so. Trade offs."

"It's not like looking at it is a hardship. And walking everywhere isn't that bad." He's already very used to it, in fact, due to his own history. But its not like he can't see where she's coming from, though - it would be incredibly useful to have a mount, especially when he was out of Skyhold like this.

But at the same time... "I don't tend to venture out of Skyhold often." He usually stayed back for the people who were still there, especially since he wasn't a fighter - even this time he was only out here because they were going to need all the help they could get, considering what they were dealing with. "So having a mount really wouldn't benefit me that all much." They'd probably stay in the stables more than anything else, which wouldn't help anybody in the end.

While Bruce speaks the dracolisk turns its attention to the outstretched hand, leaning its head forward in order to seemingly take a better look at it, nostrils flaring as it sniffs cautiously at her palm and then her fingers.

"Oh, I've walked all over Fereldan and Orlais. Doesn't mean that I have to like it." Kaisa replied cheerfully, letting the dracolisk inspect her hand. Just like a dog, clearly. Once she's sure that the animal has had a good sniff, she gently reaches to touch it, going slow enough that it can avoid her hand, if it desires. "Just because it isn't bad doesn't mean you can't upgrade to something better. Even this guy is better than nothing, probably. Maybe. Only one way to find out!"

She shrugged, glancing over at him with a grin. "Maybe having a mount will give you more excuses to go out. I mean, I wouldn't mind getting to see more of you when the Inquisition is out and about. Maybe you can get around to kissing some of my booboos better." She wiggles her eyebrows a little, then laughs, turning back to the dracolisk.

"And I'll protect you from all the unsavory beasties out here, yeah?"

Bruce tries not to make a face but doesn't quite succeed, looking a bit uncomfortable about the concept of having to go out of Skyhold so often. Not really because of... what she said (most of it had flown over his head pretty quickly, sadly), but rather because of what that meant to his duties within Skyhold, and the countless people in there that needed his help.

"I don't really have a reason to leave Skyhold. Most of my duties are within it." As Bruce speaks the dracolisk eyes the slowly moving hand, but makes no move to shy away from it and at the first touch it snorts, tail flicking behind, but doesn't do anything else, letting Kaisa touch it as she wishes - to an extent, anyway. "I'm not a fighter by any means. Outside, I'd mostly be a liability." Even with his magic (on the chance he really was forced to use it, though that was only a last resort) - his specialization lay with healing, not combat.

OPEN: The Western Approach

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