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

We must be vigilant against outsiders. A corner of his mouth twitches up, sharp like a shark, but only for a moment.

"You protect your own. Not all do so. Corruption is more common than not, in my experience." And he has a lot of experience. "Let us hope, then, that the Inquisition truly is different."

It'd be refreshing to see.

"Why would the Inquisition kill a mage? Why would you?"

"Why would I?" She raises her eyebrows, but quickly realizes that it's a fair question. A mage new to the world has a right to know what he may do, and what would incite punishment. She thinks for a moment, unwilling to offer an incorrect or misleading answer.

"I would not, except as a last resort," she begins. "But I will not lie. I have killed mages in the past, and I would do so again if necessary. If a mage is possessed by a demon, for one, and becomes an abomination. Or if they become dangerous, unable to control their magic, or unwilling to do so." She glances at him. "Though in that case, Tranquility is preferable, if it is an option."

The Inquisition, as a whole, is an entity that requires steps -- the bureaucratic, political dance. An individual works faster, especially if they feel they are threatened. And this one does, at least, think through her answer.

There's a nod.

"I imagine possession is long-term, then?" Not like those who hold his Mark, who can slip in and out of a mind, but only for a short time -- enough to cause chaos or get somewhere they shouldn't be, typically. "But I am unfamiliar with 'Tranquility', as an- option."

"It is permanent," she replies flatly. Of course there are always rumors, stories of demons being successfully driven away...but Cassandra will believe that when she sees it. "Tranquility is...ideally, it is used sparingly, only when necessary. The Rite of Tranquility severs a mage's connection to the Fade. They live and work, but are incapable of performing magic or of dreaming. The Rite also removes all emotion."

There is something of a twitch as she explains the Rite, though even the Outsider would be hard-pressed to name the emotion that causes it. Still, when he speaks, his voice is low. "And it is considered better? For the mage, or for the person who decides to do it? That state is not what anyone would consider truly living -- is its only purpose to avoid guilt for those who subject others to it?"

How nice it must be to feel nothing and still get full credit for being alive. He said as much to Corvo, once. But the souls subjected to the Rite? They would not get that credit. How could they?

"It is better than death."

She can't offer more than that. Cassandra shakes her head. "Of course a Templar would rather make a mage tranquil than kill him, if something must be done. I will not deny that. But a tranquil mage is not a walking corpse. They may contribute something and have a purpose. They are at peace, and they are still themselves. Their memories and their will remain."

"According to whom?"

His voice is rarely steeped in emotion. It is bitter now, the churning of the ocean during high winds without being a full-blown storm. "They are at peace because they can feel nothing." Not even peace. Just nothing, ice that will never crack or melt.

"Should you ever decide I am too much of a threat, my dear, do try to kill me instead." Try.

Her eyes narrow at the uninvited term of endearment. It is not unlike talking to Vivienne - but Vivienne had earned the right to address Cassandra so.

"According to the Tranquil themselves," she says sharply. "If you would like to speak to one of them directly, I can arrange a meeting once we are back at Skyhold. They will tell you in their own words. As for you - "

She pauses, forcing herself to take a breath and avoid saying anything she might regret.

"I do not know your abilities. But you hardly seem unable to control your magics. I doubt performing the Rite will ever even be considered, in your case."

When you are four thousand years old, you call people what you want.

"They will tell me without emotion, which is what tends to drive the ideas of 'better' for most mortal beings."

He will still want the meeting, but he does not think he is wrong. He has a feeling the meeting will only prove his points, at least to himself.

In any case, it least it seems no one is likely to entertain the idea of doing the same to him for very long.

"Good." Flat, simple, but with all the implied danger of a shark fin in the water.

"They are still living beings. They can still think, and make decisions for themselves." She shakes her head. "But I can see that I will not convince you. You will have to speak to them yourself, if you wish to know."

She frowns at him, not liking the sound of that good.

"That is not to say other punishments will not be applied, if they are needed. We do require those within the Inquisition and its allies to act in the best interests of us all."

Edited 2016-06-17 04:36 (UTC)

The argument about the Tranquil is ignored, for now; he is not the only one who will not be convinced. Instead he focuses on the mention of the Inquisition, and his laugh is low and humorless.

"I am here, dropped into a world that is not my own, and I am told that the Inquisition needs those like me to close the Rifts that have dragged me hence. I am in this desert because I am an observer, because the differences between this world and my own interest me. I was unaware that made me either a member or an ally."

An asset when he cooperates, certainly, but not an ally. Certainly not a member.

"Perhaps you are neither," Cassandra allows. It's difficult, defining precisely what the rifters' roles are within the Inquisition. Particularly those who had not eagerly joined the cause, either by swearing a formal oath to the Inquisition or by assisting in a less official capacity. "But you are here among us, are you not? The Inquisition has taken responsibility for all of the rifters. You are offered food and shelter, and nothing is required of you in return. We ask for your assistance in closing the rifts, but we do not demand it." Not yet, anyway. But then, it hasn't been a problem yet. There have always been more than enough rifters willing to help.

"However, we cannot allow those who pose a danger to others to walk freely and unshackled among those who have come to us seeking refuge. Surely you can appreciate that."

"All have the capacity of being dangerous, in some way -- dangerous thinkers, dangerous with weapons, dangerous by carelessness. I can understand being cautious, protecting your investments, but those who have not actively threatened or caused something to happen are not the ones I would shackle."

Granted, the Outsider isn't really in the habit of shackling anyone.

"It only breeds resentment, fear, and the belief that the shackler is the dangerous one. But should it please you to hear, I will say that I have no intention of harming any within the Inquisition or its allies unless I am forced to defend myself. As I am well aware that my very appearance is cause for alarm among others, I believe that I have that right."

"Did I imply otherwise?" Cassandra asks, raising an eyebrow. "Of course we cannot lock up everyone who could potentially pose a danger. I would not wish to. But those who act or mean to act - it would be foolish not to address such a threat."

She nods at him. "I am pleased to hear it," she says. Not that she necessarily believes him, but she means what she says - she won't make any move against him unless he, like Galadriel before him, threatens to act first. "And of course. We all have the right to defend ourselves. Is that not what all this is about?"

"'Those who pose a danger," he repeats. "It is dangerous, to not set such limits for the people to know." But she has, at least, set them now for him to know.

And- well. He's used to not being believed, or listened to. That's par for the course. It also rather makes things interesting. "To be frank, I have very little idea as to what the Inquisition is about. Something about stopping the same Rifts that brought me here, and something about a madman wanting to return to a previous age."

She frowns. It has always seemed clear-cut to her, and she hadn't considered that others might not understand just as easily. "It is not so complex," she reassures him. "Do not harm others, nor threaten to do so. Do nothing that will put the safety or goals of the Inquisition at risk. We do not ask that - " Here she pauses, with a sideways look at his black eyes, the thought of his strange magic, "that you do not - frighten people. Not if you cannot help it. Only that you do not act outright against us."

Hopefully that's clear enough. As for the second question, she merely nods. "Both are true. We mean to close the rifts, and to put a stop to Corypheus, the ancient darkspawn who originally opened the Breach. I believe there are classes, now, back at Skyhold, to bring new rifters up to speed, as it were."

Well, at least he shouldn't be outright attacked for being creepy. Not that it will necessarily stop anyone, but if it happens, he'll just have to see if Cassandra will do something about it.

There's a returned nod as he thinks, more distant now -- his thoughts are pulling him along, like the wind stirring up the sand. "I was told of darkspawn, briefly. Perhaps I will sit in on some classes, dig further into the library."

Wings flutter overhead and he looks up. There is a moment where he says nothing, then- "There are trees." Where there are trees there is water, and so he nods to Cassandra once more. "I suppose the time to rest is over."

Cassandra follows his gaze, momentarily confused until she catches sight of the bird and, a few seconds later, follows his train of thought.

"I suppose it is." She looks once more at him as she prepares to move again, still wary, but more thoughtful now than suspicious. "If there is anything else that is unclear, do not hesitate to ask."

There, Merrill. Communication instead of yelling. Are you happy now?

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OPEN: The Western Approach

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