OPEN: The Western Approach

[faderifting]

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.

Comments

[extramural]

"No."

He leaves it at that for a moment. He wants to see her reaction, for one. But- he's well aware that he unnerves people, and she hasn't stared too much at the eyes. She is confident. How deep does that go?

A moment longer, and he answers.

"Those in my world call me the Outsider. And yourself?"

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin raises an eyebrow at the 'no', since the question wasn't meant literally. Everyone has a name, don't they? Except in this case, now. But she responds calmly, crossing her arms. "I'm Korrin. And 'the Outsider'? Sounds like it could get redundant here; technically, there are a lot of outsiders now, thanks to the rifts." But if that's what he wants to be called, so be it. She doesn't truly have an opinion on it, one way or another.

[extramural]

"Perhaps." Yet considering most of the reactions since he's arrived, mostly centered around his eyes and what he does with magic, he has a feeling people will know exactly who is being referenced when he's spoken of.

But- "I have heard your name before. When I arrived."

[gatheringstorm]

"In a flattering way, I hope. Though I can live with 'unholy apostate bitch' descriptions from Templars, if that's where it came from." It's not as though it's untrue, or that she'd be anything less than proud for getting under a Templar's skin.

[extramural]

"A woman called Araceli said she might bring me with her to speak with you, to ask you things." There's a slight pause at the mention of what a Templar might say, but it's abandoned; it's no worse than what an Overseer would say before killing her, after all.

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin's expression instantly softens at mention of Araceli, a hand reaching up to touch the dragon tooth necklace she wears. "She did? Well, I trust her judgment. Ask whatever you want, and I'll try to answer."

[extramural]

"My abilities have- changed, since I came through the Rift. Rather considerably. She had said she - we, actually - would ask you if you had heard of such a thing." And, he assumes, if there was something that could be done about it. "Not only have they changed, but they are... draining to use."

[gatheringstorm]

"Draining, yes. A rifter mage I met complained about her magic not working as efficiently before. It turns out that magic similar to this world's is easier to cast. Something wildly different...not so much. If you learn from the local mages, you won't gain our spells, but it might help you readjust, use your powers more easily again." The second part is more interesting to her, and she raises an eyebrow. "What exactly has changed?"

[extramural]

At least the drain is not just him; there had been some concern that it was because of the lack of the Void, the absence of what had chosen him to be like this. It may not help, but... well. At least there are other possibilities.

"I have to eat, for starters."

[gatheringstorm]

At that, she raises an eyebrow but doesn't seem too shocked. "What about sleeping? I've heard that's a new thing for some of the elves that arrived here from beyond. Maybe that's just how it works, with travel to this world. Whatever you were before, you're more or less mortal when you're here." At least that would be her best guess. It's not like she's an expert on races beyond.

[extramural]

"Yes, that too." Eating, sleeping... breathing... "I am not fully mortal. I imagine the eyes give that away. Yet- I am certainly more mortal than I was." Save for four thousand years ago, but he didn't have the eyes then, either. But beyond that- "Are there mages of this world who teach the mages of others?"

[gatheringstorm]

"...yeah, those eyes are something. You must've been called demon countless times already." As to the question, Korrin nods cautiously. "It hasn't been that long since the rifts started spewing out people, so none of us are experts. But, we can try. The more compatible your magic is to ours, the easier it's likely to be. I deal mostly with battle magic, myself. Lightning is my speciality, as is summoning a magic blade to fight with. If you have anything like that, I might be able to help you. Otherwise, I ought to at least know if there's someone who can."

[extramural]

"Despite fighting them myself, yes." Mortals. So afraid of what they don't understand. As for magic, well... There's a slow nod, after a moment. "I could do far more. Here? Gusts of wind, as far as forces of nature. Otherwise it is- more subtle, I suppose. I can see through the eyes of the creatures here, for example."

Huh. Maybe he should have tried that with the dragon.

[gatheringstorm]

That last part gets her attention, and she raises an eyebrow, impressed. "Really? That's a new one, at least as far as I know. Any creature? So you could potentially observe the darkspawn? Or through the eyes of the high dragon?"

[extramural]

"Potentially." He's- not actually certain about the Darkspawn. This world doesn't seem to like him to have much control over anything sentient, or anything that was once sentient, at least not in the same way. "If the dragon circles again overhead, we can test that."

[gatheringstorm]

If it came up, Korrin would argue that darkspawn and sentience aren't usually things that intertwine, except in rare cases, but her attention is effectively derailed by mention of the high dragon. She perks up, definitely partial to that plan as long as he's up for it. "Hell, yes. Seeing through the eyes of something that can fly, something that powerful and massive...Maker, that would be amazing."

[extramural]

If he could let you experience it for a time, Korrin, he perhaps would. Alas- that part of his magic is severed completely. "It would certainly allow us to know a great deal more about the surrounding area." And- well, he's never seen through the eyes of a dragon like that before.