OPEN: The Nightmare's Domain

[visus]

WHO: Everybody present for the effort to draw out the Nightmare.
WHAT: Oh no.
WHEN: 28-30 Bloomingtide
WHERE: THE FADE as it exists, approximately, in an incomprehensible nongeographical way, alongside the Western Approach.
NOTES: You can only participate in this plot if you signed up in advance. (Not really, this is a joke.) For driveby GM taunting or to have the debris of personal nightmares appear in the Fade sign up here. Check here for notes on crystal functionality, which will not be normal. (GIF source.)

The plan is simple enough, on paper.

Lord Livius Erimond, locked in Skyhold's dungeon since his capture, finally cracks when he learns that the Grey Wardens have moved on and no one is coming to negotiate for his release. There's no mind-control driving the sacrifices, he says, only fear. Corypheus has an arrangement with a demon to amplify it and extend the reach of the song that's driving the Wardens to desperation. Handle it, and maybe they'll see that they're being manipulated.

In practice, it's a little fuzzier. Some guesswork. Some optimism. Approximating the demon's location takes time and effort from the Fade-fluent. There's a rift nearby, but it's small, nondescript. Making it bigger, drawing attention and drawing the demon out onto solid ground where it can be fought, calls for every anchor shard on hand, mages and Templars to assist, archers and swordsmen at the ready. The Herald did it before, at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. It's feasible. Just wiggle your fingers, and--

--and the sky opens up wide, then wider, too wide, green light flooding out like water finally cresting over a bank, and the ground beneath your feet turns from sand to stone. In some places it becomes vertical. In others it stops existing at all. The rift sprawls and spiders out with almost sentient aim, encompassing everyone it can reach. It takes two seconds, maybe three.

Then it closes.

I. THE NIGHTMARE

The good news is: the Inquisition pinpointed the Nightmare's location correctly. The bad news is: the Inquisition pinpointed the Nightmare's location correctly.

So if you find a second to to wonder where you are, there are two possible answers. The first is the raw Fade, where few have trod since the ancient magisters entered the Golden City and began the Blight. The City is Black now and it hangs in the distance, always on the horizon, always visible, but never within reach. The light is sickly green and seems to come from everywhere and nowhere, creating shadows from any and all directions. What direction is up and what direction is sideways is open for debate anyway. The ground--if it can be called that when it is only sometimes below you--is dark and rough, all crags and cliffs and spires. It's wet, too, with puddles and stagnant streams wound through the rock.

The second possible answer to the question of where, and the one that might warrant even more attention than the first, is right on top of a damn demon.

The Nightmare is massive, as large as a small fort. It has a dozen legs and at least twice as many eyes; a warm, civilly sinister voice that knows your deepest and darkest fears; and a seemingly endless supply of minions. Terror demons spring out of the ground around you with creaking screams. Fearlings take the shape of your simpler phobias: here a spider, there a snake, or roaring flames, a lyrium-encrusted Templar. Fighting through the flood of demons and bringing down the Nightmare will take every sword, every staff, and several hours. Pick a leg.

And when it's over--when the Nightmare is dead and only straggling Fearlings and occasional Terrors present an immediate threat--try to figure out what's next.

II. SEARCHING

Attempts to tear a new hole in the Veil from the inside will produce no results. But those sensitive to the Fade may be able to feel something--not quite like a draft guiding you out of a cave, but there's no closer analogy in the common tongue. A faint whiff of reality, somewhere in the distance, straight away from the distant Black City. There's no sunrise or sunset, and an hour can feel like a day or feel like a minute, but time is passing, and the walk is long by any measure.

While it's in your best interest to stay with the rest of the Inquisition's forces, this region of the Fade is a twisty, treacherous thing that seems to actively conspire to separate and mislead its visitors. More Fearlings slither out of crevices to menace anyone who lingers alone or tries to sleep. There's a marshy expanse that does its best to trap feet, and a field of memorial stones with the names of visitors etched into their surfaces, each with a cause of death marked below. Everywhere you step the ground is littered with evidence of terrible dreams, worked into the landscape like they were there first and it has grown up around them. There are skeletons in the stone, rock formations that twist into the shape of gallows, lost toys underfoot, an entire home tucked down a winding path, achingly empty.

III. ESCAPE

The Nightmare is dead, but its absence creates new reasons to fear. It begins slowly, things crumbling: the edge of a stair giving way unexpectedly, a towering hunk of rock a ways off collapsing upward into the open air and reforming there. The path rearranges as it's walked and takes wanderers in different directions, leaving them to fight their ways back to the main group. It was the concentration of fear and willpower embodied in the Nightmare that held this domain of the Fade intact, and without it, there's a power vacuum to fill. The spirits drawn here are drawn by lingering fear, and warped by it.

The forms they take may not be those you're familiar with from outside the Fade--less deformed, more malleable, more insidious, the things you most or least want to see. Those who long for safety may find a gentle Desire demon willing to offer it. Those whose fears stem from insecurities may hear the whispers of lurking Envy, mimicking their voices from its hiding place, cautiously testing for a foothold. If fear only pisses you off, be prepared to face your Rage. And if you refuse to be afraid--if you have this under control, if you know you'll be all right--a smiling embodiment of Pride may appear to praise your prowess and ask you to put those skills to other uses.

Whatever form your demons take, they are distractions from the larger issue: this part of the Fade is collapsing, unstable, and not meant for creatures like you to survive in. As important as it is to face your fears, it may in the end be more important to run from them. Regroup, keep moving, take head counts. There's a rift ahead, small enough to slip through one at a time, out into the desert, with its bright sun and relatively solid ground--and however long it feels like you've been walking, days or weeks, Adamant Fortress is visible across the sand.

Comments

[colecomfort]

For all his silence, for all the many fears making themselves known in this place, Cade's anxiety is loud enough to rise above the noise. That's how Cole finds him, how he comes to appear crouched at his feet.

He knows how wrong this place is. He still feels it. But as long as there's someone else he can help, perhaps he can calm the noise in his own head.

"Eyes shut, curling in the dark against the bad dreams. So small I might disappear."

Try again. He lifts a hand, offering it. "Cade? We should catch up with the others."

[onlyhymns]

It takes Cade a moment to realize there's someone in front of him, but when he hears that familiar voice, he opens his eyes to see Cole crouched there. It's always unnerving when the boy sets his fears to words like that, but at the very least, Cade has very slowly come to accept him as an ally rather than a tormentor.
He is reluctant to take Cole's hand, but docile when he does, in too much of a state to consider the implications or fall into his usual doubts. A hand was offered, and he took it.
"I don't belong here," he says hoarsely, allowing himself to be led but still unable to stop himself looking around, on hyper-alert. "What is this?"

[colecomfort]

"A place no one belongs," Cole insists. He leads Cade in a winding path around the pools of water, his eyes trained on his own feet. But he moves purposefully — they can still see the others. Haven't been lost. Yet.

"It wants our fear. Feeds on it, even with the Nightmare gone."

[onlyhymns]

Oh, is that all. No wonder Cade has been feeling so lost, so tired, so disoriented; fear is almost all he runs on.
He nods idly, turning his head to see what appears to be a green child disappearing behind a rock. He stares after it a moment, feeling a discomfort building in his chest. "There are... things everywhere," he comments, his hand clasping Cole's tightly, shaking in the boy's grip.

[colecomfort]

"Little fears. Flickering in and out of the shadows. They don't have a real shape." They're spirits, like he was once — almost. Though he can't remember, Cole knows on a bone-deep level that the shapes they take are not like the ones he would have.

"Eyes up, face forward. Stay close to the others. Can't trust our feet to find the path."

[onlyhymns]

For someone inclined toward hyper-vigilance, simply looking forward and not perpetually checking the surrounding area is an almost impossible task. But Cade tries, still periodically catching a shape out of the corner of his eye.
"They're watching me," he says in a whisper, wanting to impress upon Cole just how un-ignorable they are.

[colecomfort]

"Circling, shadowing. Follow the stream to the source."

It's taking a great deal of will to keep himself together like this. That creeping, pulling sensation over his skin is still present, a constant background noise.

"If they get close, I will kill them." As shaky as Cole is feeling, it's a solid promise.

[onlyhymns]

Cade squeezes his eyes shut and shudders, feeling what Cole is telling him and wishing he doesn't. "Can they be killed?" he whispers. Brother Flavius strolls past his vision, but doesn't approach him again, not yet.

[colecomfort]

"Death isn't like dying, here." Solas would explain it better, but Cole at least understands. "But they can be stopped. Long enough to get away."

He dares a glance over his shoulder, looking away from the group long enough to check in on Cade.

[onlyhymns]

That's... comforting, Cade supposes, but not by a lot. He briefly, miserably meets eyes with Cole, his shoulders hunched and his arms hugged against himself as he goes, as though he's simply cold.
As another child-resembling green specter vanishes behind an outcropping, Cade shudders. "I couldn't kill them," he whispers, anguished. He hates them, and they terrify him, but he is certain that to destroy them would become his failing.

[colecomfort]

"What are they?"

Unlike others, Cole doesn't have to ask what Cade sees. What he doesn't understand is why the child-like figures frighten Cade so much.

cw: pedophilia

[onlyhymns]

They frighten him as well as simply stress him out with their presence. He has a constant nagging fear, the sort that persists in his mind in the presence of any child, real or imagined. What if, what if, what if-- it generally results in removing himself from their presence entirely, but the fearlings are making it impossible.
Of course, there's logic that he's not seeing: being overly concerned to the point of fear and constant overanalysis of every related thought is anathema to sexual feelings, but that's not enough to convince him. Because what if. Better remove them from the picture entirely.

"They're..." Cade stammers, and as though sensing that he's focusing on them, one or two begin to trail toward the pair. There's no urgency to their motion, and in fact they appear to be innocently curious. At the brush of an ethereal hand on his, Cade shudders and steps back toward Cole, bumping into him from behind.

[colecomfort]

Cade's inner thoughts complete what he hasn't spoken alive. They're — innocence, unspoiled, potential waiting to be wasted. Cole barely has time to hear that before Cade bumps into him.

Cole stumbles forward a step, but stops himself from falling entirely. As soon as he has his balance again, he's turning, daggers drawn and directed at the fearlings. To Cade, it will look as if Cole is holding a blade toward the throat of one of the spectral children.

"Stay away."

[onlyhymns]

"Don't," Cade says anxiously, even as he understand that they are neither real nor benevolent. All the same, he can't be party to violence against them; in actuality, it would likely only make them stronger, though he hasn't thought that far ahead.
He pushes past them instead, an abrupt motion as he proceeds to quickly step away, out of their reach. If he keeps moving forward, perhaps they can't touch him again. He only hopes that Cole will follow.

[colecomfort]

The fearling in particular that Cole is threatening — it is a child, and it is not — looks up at him with its blank face.

These ones are not acting like the others he's seen. Around Cade, they change more than their forms — and Cade doesn't want them killed. Cole thinks he understands why.

"Please don't touch him," he says in a gentler voice. "He doesn't like it."

He backs off, but doesn't turn his back on the children yet. He only checks over his shoulder, briefly, to make sure Cade is still relatively all right.

[onlyhymns]

The fearlings are persistent. True to their nature, they're not about to listen to reason, and as though Cole never said anything, they trail after Cade, always staying some paces behind him, waiting for him to stop. Sensing this, he doesn't. He thinks he can see an odd light in the distance, or rather... a light that he now considers odd, for how it breaks into the Fade. The sky? The actual sky? Maybe.

[colecomfort]

They never get too close, Cole notices. His daggers are always at the ready in case Cade pauses again, in case one of the fearlings happens to brush against him. For now? Cade is focused on the potential escape in front of them. That's good.

"Keep moving," Cole says, striding ahead of Cade now, leading him. "Don't look back."

[onlyhymns]

Cade usually tries to do as Cole suggests. It doesn't always work, but at least sometimes it mitigates the pain somewhat, or the stress, or whatever it is. He follows the boy's advice, putting one foot in front of the other, as the others in their company come into clearer view. It appears they've found... another breach, but one leading back into the world. They're finally getting out.