faderift | THE FALLOW MIRE

THE FALLOW MIRE

WHO: Open to all
WHAT: The Inquisition sends forces to the Fallow Mire to deal with undead, plague, and missing scouts.
WHEN: Firstfall
WHERE: The Fallow Mire: Inquisition camps, Fisher's End, The Tavern, etc.
NOTES: For more information about the setting and RP opportunities in it, check out the OOC Post.

The trip down the mountains from Skyhold is no walk in the park, and south of the Hinterlands the land turns wet and miserable, subject to seemingly endless storms. Villagers have tried to carve out a meagre existence in the Fallow Mire, but their lives are under constant threat by a tidal wave of undead rising from the murky waters flooding much of the region.

The Inquisition has sent a sizeable force, and travel back and forth between the Mire and Skyhold happens as often and as quickly as conditions allow. The camp is a neat patch of tents on the largest bit of dry land to be found. "Dry" is relative; everything's still pretty muddy. There are several clusters of tents, tucked between rock outcroppings and abandoned buildings, the least leaky of which are being used to store what supplies the Inquisition has managed to haul in over the difficult terrain. Campfires are numerous and fill the area with a constant smouldering glow and low-hanging cloud of smoke that mingles with the morning and evening fogs. It's lovely, really.

Fisher's End barely even counts as a village-- just a haphazard handful of ramshackle buildings perched on the edge of the swamp-- but it does have a single tavern. It's a dreary-looking wooden shack like every other structure in the area, distinguishable only by the lamp still lit above the door and the sign that swings creakily in the breeze. Whatever was painted on it has long since worn away and been molded over. The place is just known as "the tavern" because it is literally the only tavern for miles and miles around.

Inside is dim and smoky from peat-burning fires in the two grates. There are a half-dozen tables with benches, none of which ever seem quite level on the uneven floor. The bar is tended by Thorolf, a grizzled bearded fellow with a local accent so thick he's almost unintelligible. No matter the time of day he serves a simple fisherman's meal of hard bread, salted fish, and a hunk of strong cheese. His cellar is stocked with exactly three varieties of alcohol: one ale, one wine, and one spirit, all of which are strong and dark. There aren't many locals left, but there are usually a few hunched over a mug or huddled around the fire.

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Krem made a face, but conceded. She was right. And as damp as it was, even if they could get something to catch, it wouldn't really last long, he was sure. Stupid mire and its nasty wetness everywhere...

"...you haven't had a chance to speak more with Kas, have you?" he asked after a few more minutes' trudging, looking up at the rather bleak silhouette of his friend with a deep frown. "I think he's been avoiding me ever since we first talked."

Korrin sighs, as she's been avoiding treading near that topic ever since its discovery. She can't pretend to approve of Iron Bull's status, or be anything other than automatically protective towards those he might affect. That includes Krem, whether or not the lieutenant thinks otherwise.

"No, Kas has been training for his first scouting mission. I only barely saw him before leaving. Kas is scared, Krem. More than he might have let on in front of you. You'll need to give him time to see that you're not part of the Qun in any way."

Krem grimaces and runs his hand over the side of his head, scratching at it miserably. "If he even wants to give me that chance. It's up to him, though." And really, he doubts that the small qunari will give him that, no matter what Korrin might say to him. He wants to ask about Gorse as well, but...well. He doesn't know a damn thing except that Gorse is friendly, and he doubts that that will still hold true after this revelation.

"You're still angry about all of this," he sighs without looking back at Korrin. He knows she'll argue it, but it still feels to him like she is.

It is up to Kas, and Korrin isn't going to overtly pressure him on the matter. The young Vashoth can be incredibly stubborn, not unlike herself, and if she tries to influence him on this, he might just stop listening to her altogether. With a Ben-Hassrath around, she's worried about what could happen if that comes to pass. So she has to wait and see...and hopefully get through to him in one of those less-guarded moments.

Stopping short, Korrin spares a brief glance around to ensure that nothing's going to sneak up on them before focusing on Krem. He may not be able to meet her gaze, but she's tired of avoidance. "A little. I would have preferred to hear it from you rather than Kas, alright? You know how I feel about the Qun and those serving it, I've never hidden that. It would've been fair to at least give me a heads-up, especially since you weren't taking any pains to conceal it in the first place. If you were, you wouldn't have just told Kas."

She sighs again, crossing her arms. "Believe it or not, but I'm not just worried for myself, or my kind. I'm worried about you, too. You're working for a Qunari. Nothing's come of it now and for your sake, I sincerely hope nothing will. But you're not in a good position to be in should that change. I don't want one of my best friends here to be caught in the middle."

"I wanted to come and tell you, when the timing was better for it. I wanted to let all of you know, so that nobody got in trouble for something innocent," Krem argues, raising his hands irritably. "I'm not so sure you wouldn't have just clocked me and run if I'd told you when we'd met. Infighting's already bad enough, I didn't want to start some damned qunari war in the middle of the Hold."

He steps over a nasty dead something, which thankfully didn't move when he brought his foot down on the other side. He just wants to keep moving.

"I told you, none of us have been forced under the Qun. Bull expects good judgment from us, and that includes countermanding his orders. And I'm fairly certain there are enough of us that are familiar with how he fights that we could easily take him down, if it came to that. He knows it as well as we do. So I'm not worried for me, or any of my men. We are fully capable of keeping him in check as he leads."

Ugh, Korrin doesn't want to know what that dead thing is, and she almost blasts it with fire just to ensure that it doesn't rise up after them. At this point, she doesn't trust anything in the mire to remain where it should. But after a moment of stink-eye, it doesn't do anything, so she moves on.

"I don't think there's ever a perfect moment of timing to tell me something like that, but it doesn't matter. I'd still have rather heard the truth, whatever it is, and I wouldn't have decked you for it. Well, not after we'd become acquainted better." Sure, she would have sworn up a storm and probably abuse a training dummy, but that fear needs an outlet. "And no war has been started, has it? People are on alert, but that's to be expected."

Her expression shifts to one of concern as she glances over to him. "I know you're capable, Krem. I've never doubted that, believe me. Nor do I doubt what you'd do, if it came down to that. But I'd still never wish you in the position of having to take him down, nor after all that's happened between you two." Whatever she personally thinks about Bull, Korrin really has no interest in being proven right, not when it means Krem suffering. "You know my opinion of you hasn't changed, right? I'm worried, sure, but that doesn't mean I don't want you around anymore. I'm not a fair-weather friend."

"It doesn't matter what any of you think of me personally," Krem huffs, glancing back at the thing barely visible in the grass, making a face and almost encouraging Korrin to set it on fire anyway, just in case; he'd rather not have some dead rodent gnawing at his ankles when he turns his back. "I want to know that you'll be alright here no matter who else is there in the hold. I don't want to have to stop a fight but I will, that's my point."

"Thank you, Krem. That means a lot to me, more than you know." Korrin's expression softens and she pauses beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. If it weren't for the grossness of the swamp, she'd probably hug him, but the swamp-scent permeating armor is bad enough without smelling it on someone else. "You're left in charge at the moment anyway, right? I admit, that will help." Not that she doubts her or her fellow Vashoth's opinions will change, but the initial temper flare has a chance to subside now that the Iron Bull is elsewhere.

"For the moment, I'm the stand-in commander of the Chargers, yes. Dunno where the hell Bull's gone off to, but now it falls to me to keep these jackasses in line." Krem's hand rests against the pommel of the sword sheathed at his him, ready to draw it should anything crawl out of the dank after them. He pauses and looks around them, frowning deeply at the lack of telltale signs that could be used as map markers. "Haven't we passed that damned stone before?"

Korrin's about to comment further on the Chargers when Krem's question effectively reminds her how distracted she's been from the immediate situation. Stopping short, she glances around, then groans as she realizes that he's right. "We did, dammit. We need a better map or a better light source. I'd almost rather have the mark, if it actually helped...."

If he'd thought it might help a damn thing, Krem might have kicked the stone. As it stands, though, the upright monolith is really all they have by way of a trail marker. He takes the blade resting against his thigh and uses it to scrape off a sizeable patch of muck, making it slightly more recognizable than the rest of their surroundings. "We'll keep going straight ahead from here. If we run into this damned thing again, at least we'll know it's not just us getting turned around."

"Good idea. I'd be tempted to leave a scorch trail, if anything in this damnable place was flammable. But that will do nicely. Let's at least try to find that first marked house. I don't want to leave anyone isolated in this place any longer than necessary." Assuming they're still alive, but Korrin knows she doesn't need to voice that outcome for them both to be thinking it.

"I'd say that's a good idea, but imagine the smell if you scorched anything here." Krem makes a face, walking a short distance away and scanning the murky, foggy scenery. The way things had gone so far, he kind of doubts that anyone would be willing to come along with them without some strongarming, and that would definitely not go over well for the Inquisition or its allies. Particularly not when he had a qunari in tow. "If people aren't willing to come with us, what d'you suggest?" he asks, turning back to Korrin with his hands on his hips. He doesn't want to be here any longer than necessary, after all, and if there's an expedient solution he would very much like to find it.

"You know, there are qunari drinks that can utterly kill your sense of smell -and taste- for a while. I'm not joking. Next time we have to deal with a place like this, I'll have to get some." Once she tells her grandmother about the Fallow Mire, it's a strong possibility.

Not long on patience or tact, Korrin sighs in response to Krem's question. "Take them outside, point around to all the undead that pop up as soon as someone so much as sneezes, and hope that appeals to common sense? That's all I have, at the moment. If I yell at them, you know it's as likely to go south what with being a 'scary qunari'."

"Trust me, I know. Chief's had us take a mouthful of that before heading into a few different places. The boys might have finished it off since we got here though."

He shakes his head and glares off at one of the houses when it finally looms into view. It's little more than a smudge among other, differently colored smudges. "Soon as I open my mouth I'd be pegged as 'vint. Not much better of a situation. I can talk to people more than you probably can here, but that'll only get us so far when nobody will trust us to begin with."

"They don't have to trust us, exactly, we just need them to realize that they should trust this hellhole even less. You'd think that would be obvious, but anyone who lives here on purpose is either crazy or hiding from something." Nothing outside those possibilities makes any sense to her, not with the present situation. Korrin frowns as she regards the house, not optimistic about their chances, before continuing along.

Krem rubs his chin thoughtfully, then pauses near a water hole deep enough to trap him down there until he joined the corpses. He glances toward the first marked house they'd found since starting out, then grins.

"Could give 'em a reason to move out."

Korrin glances to the water hole, the arches an eyebrow. At this point, she really doesn't have any ideas short of dragging people out with them or giving up, so....

"Fine, let's do it. Whatever it takes."

So he has a history of monster-baiting. He holds no fear of the corpses here either. So, into the water Krem sloshes, making as many ripples as possible, whistling loudly just once then clambering back out again as the dead rise up and start to lumber toward them. He passes by Korrin, grabbing her arm to get her going as he does so, ducking an arrow as it whistles by him.

"The house!" he shouts, then when he reaches it he pounds on the door. Behind them, the corpses are gaining.

It's all an act, a very loud, messy one, and when the people open their door up, Krem pushes inside, stammering about their having to leave now. There are too many to hold back, enough that they could shove the sagging boards and stone of the walls in and get at the people, destroy them and their belongings, and soon, panic ensues. People are grabbing belongings and heading for a back way. Krem is victorious, and looking smug after giving the little family directions to the nearest camp.

Now it's just a matter of disposing of the corpses outside.

Making noise and attracting trouble is what Korrin does best, so she doesn't hesitate to splash along, firing off her staff into the distance a few times to attract even more attention. Never let it be said that she goes by half-measures, not in a mission. When Krem reaches the door, she lets him do the talking while doing her best to ensure that the undead don't come too close, but still encouraging them so they linger. It's a fun balancing act.

Once people are out of the building and their backs are turned, Korrin shoots Krem a grin. "That worked out well. Time for the next part!" And now that she doesn't have to worry about the family getting in the way, Korrin finally lets loose, unleashing chain lightning and a powerful explosion to take out as many as possible.

Krem beams at her when he joins her back outside. He quickly dispatches a pair of corpses that have somehow made it past Korrin's onslaught of magic. He doesn't kill every last one though, just letting them stagger up to the pair as he encourages Korrin to turn and run with him, crashing through the water once more to attract more of the dead. There were more houses in the distance, and this had to continue to be convincing, after all.

Having a similar train of thought, Korrin doesn't cast further spells. She's more interested in thinning the ranks a little, so they don't have a more sizeable horde than they can handle together. Resisting the urge to destroy more of them, the Vashoth mage then follows suit, deliberately speeding through as much water as possible on the way. Her feet and legs are already soaked, so no complaints from her.

They're probably both going to have to deal with soggy smallclothes when they're done here, but it's a small price to pay to be able to efficiently get the stragglers of Fisher's End to safety.

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THE FALLOW MIRE

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