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.

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He had no idea whom to pray to, or how. Maker and Andraste were just words to him, names with no faces. The best he could do was say their names in his head, ask whomever they were to be gentle with the souls of the men on the pyre, even if he did not quite believe anyone was actually listening.

"Right," he said when Sam touched his shoulder, turning away to follow him. He looked to Sam, a soft frown crinkling his brows. "Can we catch the people responsible for this?"

Well wasn't that quite the question, of which has Sam raising a brow at his companion. "With just the two of us? Probably not." Even if blood magic was not involved it was most likely that there was a number of them. Or they had already been killed off, which meant something just as bad or worse was around.

"Let's gather any of the books and supplies we can, figure if we can find any names or anything. I wouldn't be surprised it was Venatori."

Even angry as he was, he had not expected it would be just the two of them, though in the past he might have wanted to do just that. Already he had been after Servis, seen the destruction he had left behind, and seeing this, knowing people got away with it - it turned his stomach and made his blood boil.

A part of him wanted to head out into the night on a reckless, stupid hunt, but he reigned it in and nodded. Sam had the right idea. Knowledge was half the battle, and he had no idea whom to even look for anyways. "We should be quick then. Like you said - whatever drove them out could still be here or coming back. Where would an office or study be - or perhaps a dungeon?" Retrofitted to be a laboratory.

Well considering Sam was obligated to make sure no one got themselves killed he'd have to give chase if Kirk decided to run off. Hopefully the man didn't do something like that because honestly with just the two of them Sam couldn't manage defense and offensive spells together for too long.

"Honestly? No clue. These are Tevinter ruins. Not really my field." The Circle really didn't have many books on that in their library. "We can check a few of the rooms around here. Not sure if we want to be here when the sun goes down." If it wasn't hot it was freezing in the desert, and it got dark. He'd rather not camp out here if possible.

No, no, he wasn't going to do that. This time anyways. In another situation, maybe, but here he was managing to keep his head, though it pained him to do so. It was hard to see injustice done, and not be able to correct it swiftly. It made his stomach churn to think these people might find a new place to do this, new victims.

"How much time does that leave us?" he asked, switching his attention to try and find a window and gauge their timing, though he knew it wasn't long. They would simply have to try and do what they could and then leave. Even Kirk did not relish the idea of being here past sundown or navigating the desert by night.

"We've been here for a bit. Considering we still need to get back... probably should leave before it even starts to get dark. The wildlife is bad enough during the day, I don't fancy to see what it is like at night." There isn't a set way for them to tell time out here except for the passing of the sun and moon, and judging by how it didn't feel as hot now the sun was probably getting lower in the sky.

Carefully Sam heads towards a door and tests out the handle. When it doesn't seem locked he presses it open slowly, staff ahead as he peeks inside. With there being no light inside, the pyre behind them casts strange shadows over the tables and chairs tipped over, and from the smell of stale air it had been a time since it had been opened.

Not much time judging from the heat and the sun. Enough time, perhaps, for one or two rooms, but not extensively. They would have to try again tomorrow for a more thorough search, though that was time that let the people who did this get further away. He followed Sam to the room, recognizing the scent of stale air.

"Not sure there will be anything recent in here," he murmured, stepping in anyways to see what they might find. Even if it was not about the people who had painted this place red, there could be something else of import that shouldn't be left behind.

Yes, unfortunately that meant that whomever had been able to get away would have more time to put space between them and this place. If they had more manpower things would be different, but at the moment there was only the two of them so nothing could be done. Putting themselves unneeded danger would help no one.

Sam nods in agreement to Kirk's words, even if the other man doesn't see them as he passes. Raising a hand Sam lights a small flame to help them see better in the room, eyes immediately turning towards the darkened shadows. "I wonder what this place was before."

"It looks like some sort of office," Kirk said as he rummage, nodding his thanks for the new light as he broke open desk drawers, searching for paper. He didn't need to read it, he just needed to take it. Whatever was deemed useless could be burned later, especially with time running short. "Hopefully of someone with an important job and thus important documents. If there are any books - check them. This is the sort of place likely to have a hidden space if there's anything incriminating to be found."

"Just be careful there aren't any traps." His tone is light, teasing slightly about the traps - but seriously be careful. "Incriminating like what?" Blood magic seemed incriminating enough, but having some important documents to go through would be useful, at least to figure if there was a 'who' behind it all.

"It doesn't look like they used this room much. The air is still thick in here." Walking closer to the desk, allowing for better light, Sam sets his staff down cautiously so that he had a hand to help rummage through things, though at a much slower pace.

"I have no idea. Just anything," he shrugged. "Slavery, money laundering, skimping on the taxes, where the hell this Corypheus guy might be." He waved his hand and sat in the chair at the desk, piling the papers he found on the desk in front of him and searching for hidden bottoms to the drawers themselves.

"Maybe not the recent people," he agreed. "But if it was just one person, and they were careful, the could keep this place from losing to much of the 'old' feeling."

He's not sure what money laundering or skimping on taxes might be, but he's pretty sure these papers didn't have anything on Corypheus. At least nothing to would tell them where he was at. Maybe who he might have been, before becoming what he was now.

"You think there might be hidden documents in there?" Sam walks around the desk at that, leaning in over Kirk's shoulder to get a better look at what the man was doing. This seemed like something Kirk did a lot or knew about. It wouldn't be too strange if there was actually something in the bottom of the drawers, after all even in the current Circles there were hidden compartments.

"It's possible. I would rather be thorough than potentially leave something important behind," he said, shutting a drawer that had proved to hold nothing beyond what he'd already found and moving on to the next. "Even if we find nothing, it's better knowing there was nothing to find than to wonder as we march back to Skyhold."

"Want to be that thorough so that it doesn't keep you up at night wondering?" Sam smiles slightly at that, knowing how that felt quite well. Course there was always a strange dream to follow if you did fall asleep.

"I'll go see if there is a basket or anything that we can gather the papers and books into then." No way they would be able to carry it all easily with weapons and such. Even so Sam doesn't wander too far so that Kirk still has light to work by.

"Good idea," Kirk said over his shoulder as he moved to another drawer. A part of him wanted to find something, anything, even though the logical part said there was a more likely chance he would not. If people had abandoned this place, it was likely they would come for those documents first and foremost.

He made a 'hah' sound when he popped a false bottom, but as he suspected, anything that might have been of value had long ago been taken.

Despite everything going on, Sam found it kind of cute on how Kirk was getting exciting about finding things. Course he doesn't say anything because this was a serious matter and there were other things to worry about.

It takes a bit of time on Sam's end before he finds anything of use, and even then the basket is falling apart along the edges - the bottom was sturdy at least at the time. "Did you find anything?"

He shook his head. "No, unfortunately. Anything that might have been hidden was removed long before we got here probably." He took the papers they did have and set them in the basket, rising from the chair and brushing his rear off from dust and cobweb. He glanced out the window and sucked his lip, clearly debating before reason won out.

"We should probably head back to camp."

That wasn't all that surprising, but it had been worth a shot. Hefting up the basket in one hand, Sam lets the flame go out and picks up his staff. "Probably be for the best. I'd rather not sleep in the ruins or out in the middle of the desert tonight. Besides, we should probably find someone who knows how to read these." Some of the papers were in Common, but there were quite a bit in Tevene.

He nodded. "I think we can tend to that in the morning though. Let's go find ourselves a meal, something to drink, and... think of better, nicer things." Than the scene they had just witnessed. Distraction sex would be a welcome such nice thing, though Kirk couldn't say if Sam was up for it or not. If nothing else, he could amuse them both with stories of his antics on the Enterprise.

Honestly Kirk you'd have to ask or offer seeing as at this point of time his head isn't exactly in the gutter yet, not when his mind was more focused on keeping the both of them safe. Even if that didn't happen, just having someone to share the cooler night with and just swapping stories would do a world of difference for him.

"That sounds like a plan I certainly can get behind." Once outside the room his eyes are immediately drawn to the pyre again, the fire burning bright and obviously doing its work properly. "Come on. We better get going."

At the end of the day, he might not want it either. It was just one of his better ways of holding off nightmares, of exhausting body and mind so that neither could betray him in the night. Maybe tonight Sam's heartbeat would be enough, the sweeter stories they could tell each other.

He paused to watch the pyre, the bodies shadows within, oily smoke drifting upwards and the stench of charred flesh particularly strong. His gorge rose and he pressed a hand to his mouth to avoid vomiting, keeping it down out of sheer force of will.

"Yes, let's," he agreed and turned to quickly walk away from the sight.

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OPEN: The Western Approach

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