faderift | OPEN: The Western Approach

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

He's doing it just to spite you Anders. Just forever look like he's blushing so you'll never know.

But seriously, he's not used this kind of heat.

"Kind of? Fortitude is pretty quiet and doesn't ask too much about it so I don't really notice." And Kirk does know about Fortitude thanks to that illness a bit ago. Course he doesn't really point it out either. "I give off a lot of heat actually, and you should keep a fur with you. It's actually pretty comfortable. So the cold does make it appealing to curl up together." Not that he deals with it much - he has a room in the armory. "I thought you said the point was to lay out in the sun." A quirked brow as he continues to grin. "Wouldn't a shady place in the desert invite some kind of animal?"

"You can't expect me to be consistent when my focus is on teasing you." Anders' eyes sparkle with mischief. "I mean that the point is to be outside and enjoying the heat, not getting my partner's back burnt from the sun because he's also one of you strange mudland people."

He has an answer, though. If Fortitude doesn't ask too much about something, then that means there is something going on.

"Besides. Furs are expensive. I prefer a pretty robe, even if it means my teeth knock together violently."

"Mudpeople. That's a new one." He's not going to ask about why of all places Nate's back would be burnt, but at least he's gotten Anders to fess up.

Lies and slander, Anders. Lies and slander.

"You know if you go hunting yourself it isn't that expensive. And you can still wear the pretty robes, just have them lined with fur."

"If I go hunting myself, I'm going to wind up eaten by a bear. Do you know how little I want to be eaten by a bear? Because it's very little. Exceedingly little. It's about as much as I'd like to make out with Cullen."

He doesn't hunt except for food wen he's in serious need. Plant life, that's easy to gather and eat. Bunnies are all right. Something large enough for a fur? He's a healer. Solo combat isn't his area of expertise.

"Are you or your partner any good at hunting?"

Sam makes a face at Anders at that, a cross of amusement and confusion. "And that's the only thing you're worried about getting eaten by?" There are dragons and a variety of other things as well. "Really? Making out with Cullen would be as bad as getting eaten by a bear?"

Well that was an odd image to consider, the sun and heat not helping any.

"I'm getting pretty good with hunting. I don't go out on my own, but if I had to, I think I'd be pretty well off. Fortitude isn't much of a hunter - it does watch my back though." Cause that was the partner Anders was referring to, right?

"Making out with the man who called for Kinloch Hold, my Circle, to be annulled, and then was Meredith Stannard's right hand? Yes. That would be one of the worst fates I could imagine. And as to why I picked bears, you're not really going to find a dragon with a nice fur, are you? Or a giant spider. But where you find things with fur, you'll also find bears."

It makes perfect sense to him. What doesn't is Sam talking about Fortitude helping him hunt. Anders blinks at the other healer.

"I don't mean Fortitude. I mean whomever you're sleeping with. Do they help you hunt?"

"That... would certainly be a reason." He knows a little about Cullen's past, but not too many details. Though it seems Anders has a rather patchy past with the Commander. It's hard to see how the current man now is the same person Anders is describing.

"Well getting eaten by a pack of wolves doesn't seem all that pleasant either." And considering Anders dislike of canines that seemed like a better pick, but yes, bears were pretty bad. They did seem to be everywhere. The mention of spiders has the younger mage making a face - that might be worse.

Yet again his expression changes when Anders clarifies 'partner' - he's really glad for the sunburn right now. He's quiet for a moment, mentally going over their conversation. "You're talking about my roommate? No, he hasn't been out hunting from what I gather, and I don't think he'd be too interested to do so unless it was necessary."

"All right. Wolves or bears, take your pick." It doesn't really matter. It's just a little less dignified to die to one enemy, one bear, rather than a whole pack of enemies.

"And yes. Apparently I mean your roommate. Who Fortitude does not inquire too much about when you get up to physical activities." Is Sam rooming with his lover? Or is Sam just dodging well? The sunburn is frustratingly untelling. "Who do you hunt with?"

"Think I'd rather not say in case I jinx myself." He'd rather not to be eaten period really. Equally dignified in his book since he's seen a bear take on a few wolves before - that was scary.

"Well at the beginning Fortitude did inquire a lot, but he's learned and it doesn't seem to interest him as much. Which is good because sparring lessons were hard when he tried to intervene." He got up to a lot of physical activities, Anders, he had a lot of material to dodge with.

"I haven't been needed on a hunt lately, but I did some hunting back in Empris du Lion with Asher and some of the others."

Asher. The Avvar who had a grudge about the city a world away. Anders snorts.

"I think I'll stick with robes and shivering and wishing we could be in warm lands more often. Or that cold lands would warm up. Have the frostbacks never heard of better seasons? Seasons at all? And I don't want to talk about Justice's thoughts on sparring."

That is, how weak and noodly Anders was.

That would be the man.

"If you're okay with being cold." He's not going to make you wear different clothes Anders. Personally he didn't care for robes, mostly probably because of growing up in the Coastlands where it was wet and cold - you needed hardier clothing.

"Then we won't talk about Justice's thoughts on sparring," he says easily with a smile. "I'd suggest at least learning self-defense, or at least the kind Kirk has been teaching. Doesn't really required a lot of strength or anything, just being smart."

"I'm not okay with being cold. But I also don't want to be a bumbling around pile of fabric. There's no moving like that, no being ready." And he has to be able to move and be ready, in case. He's already been assaulted three times when he's been in robes alone. More layers make him an easier target.

"I could, however, work more on learning self-defense. I had a teacher. Then I admitted who I am." So much for that.

"Hm." To each their own really. Robes just weren't for him, but then again he didn't have issues with moving around in heavier gear. Not complete suits of armor, but pieces here and there. Course with the hot weather here in the Western Approach he had opted for lighter gear.

That must have been tough, or it was tough that as soon as someone knew who he was Anders was immediately cut off. It was... understandable, but still. "I'd suggest talking to Kirk then. He's a Rifter so that should help a bit." The man liked teaching too so it worked out for everyone.

He likes robes. The way they feel, the way they look, the fact that if he's wearing them openly then it's another statement about mages being free, and so on. But they're not for everyone.

"I'll... see about talking with Kirk." It's hard to tell what different rifters have been told or not told about him. There's definitely misinformation out there, but that doesn't even have to exist to make him someone some people don't want to be near. "Thank you for the recommendation, Sam. And I'll recommend some books on the art of the Anders from the library once we're back and I see what it has. If it has any."

Each their own. Sam just wasn't one for robes. Robe-ish outfits like the one he wore during the soiree he could deal with, but he liked having a bit more cover on him.

"Art of the Anders?" That was a curious recommendation to give. Maybe not, but it felt like it seeing as they hadn't really been talking about the Anders. "What kind of art is it generally?"

He flashes Sam a grin.

"Landscapes. Until later, Sam." And with that, and mischief in his eyes, he's nodding and heading off to harass someone else. It's beautiful out here, and one day more people will clue in to that.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

OPEN: The Western Approach

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