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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Good thing she brought rum in her pack and keeps her little hip flask well topped up because the watered down wine is all well and good when you're eating dinner and trying to soften hard bread but it's tasteless most of the time.

"I can scrub down in anything that's clean, I've not always had the luxury of choice but a bath. All that steam, rubbing scented oils into your muscles to ease the aches and propping yourself up so you can drift off." Not to mention having someone to trade off scrubbing your back with, all of it enough to make her heave a weary sigh. She'll have to settle for wringing out as much damp as possible and angrily brushing the worst out of her poor hair. All her curls gone to frizz and she'll need to just sit with oils and combs to get the curls back when they're in Skyhold.

"Well if any spirits are taking an interest, can you please not because there are more than enough things here already, thank you." She does feel a bit stupid talking to possibly thin air but that's more comforting than the thought of things just listening in and appearing. "Who would call a non-physical thing after something that is a physical thing? Whoever was in charge of such things needs a good slap in the face. And spirits sound like the worst sort of voyeurs, the sweaty uninvited type - they just appear? Sliding into corpses," oh no that's a really terrible way to phrase it but she'll continue so neither of them need dwell on it, "and watching you dream? I've had very real dreams, like the ones where I know that I'm doing it but I don't go anywhere." Korrin you're confusing her, please stop, she doesn't really understand this weird physical/not-physical distinction too well.

Araceli's talking to 'spirits' gets a slight twitch of the lips from Korrin, despite her general mood in the mire. "Yeah, spirits are weird. I'd say they're harmless, but some of them aren't. It's never a good idea to feel too comfortable with them, even the ones that seem to mean well. That whole Veil thing is another reason why I hate blood magic, by the way. Do enough of that and it tears the Veil and demons can slip through the cracks. Not fun. And yet, the world isn't running out of idiots who think blood magic will solve all their problems."

She huffs in disgust, then looks wistful. "If there's a chance for a bath like that after dealing with this mess, I'm taking it. And I'll take you with me, just so you can have those gorgeous curls back as you like them. Until then we have...all this. Lovely, isn't it?"

"Why would people even-- blood is bad. That's why people panic when they're bleeding, when I got shot I didn't think 'oh, that's fine, the blood will help spur me to keep moving' I could barely think straight." Oh yeah Korrin needs to see that scar, although bleeding from an injury is very different to blood magic but it feels too much like tempting fate to ask about it.

"Do your horns require special treatment? It would only be fair to offer my services if they do." And she's genuinely intrigued too because she likes to do her Vashoth watching as she goes about Skyhold and Korrin is the one she knows best. Sighing, she turns for a moment, trusting Korrin will alert her to anything, fluttering her eyelashes. "It's romantic, no? Just the sort of mood lighting a girl must wish for on those most special of nights, that...that smell of decay rolling in on the stagnant wind, like the aftermath of the fish market at high noon. Ah, how charmingly putrid."

"It's almost enough to make me swoon, though I'll manage to restrain myself, somehow. Just barely." Korrin will refrain from even the pretense of it, not here, though back at Skyhold there might be room for theatrics. "The horns...not usually, but the base of a horn can itch or be sensitive sometimes. That's what horn balm is for. I didn't bring it with me here, since the constant rain will just wash it away anyhow."

She the arches an eyebrow. "Remind me to ask about that, sometime. I always need to hear more about your adventures...though it's best done where we can relax, and not worry about undead with every step we take."

"You wound me!" Only not really because swooning here means getting far too close to the water and can you imagine leaning back to have a corpse grinning at you? No, that's not what anyone needs. "I hope the damp doesn't bother them then, it would be an inopportune time to get any sort of break in the skin."

She's been listening to the scouts and sneaking glances at reports and things about this place are just disturbing when an infection could lead to so much worse than the usual.

"I think I make my life sound grander than it is, there have been adventures yes but they pale in comparison to a world like this. It isn't to say my world is dull but thief tales are thief tales and there were few grand battles at sea when I went sailing with my father." And I'm a guard and I don't know what I can tell you, she thinks because those are some of the best stories too, the very best being the one where she joined up. It's really a lot like finding herself here actually, maybe that's why her stomach flutters so at the thought of sharing that secret.

"You don't think my life was all Breach and end of the world, do you? Before this, it was a series of jobs, some better than others. Those are the kind of tales I have, and they're not that different in scope." Korrin shrugs, not about to pretend anything different when she regrets nothing about the life she's lead until the Inquisition.

"And no, the damp doesn't bother them much, but wait until we're stationed in the desert somewhere. That's when I'll be itching and complaining and using up horn balm until it runs out all too soon."

"This seems to have consumed so much, you all feel more connected to this when it's a ragged little bunch who were dumped in the midst of it. Professional tales I can share though, I might even pass on a few trade secrets because there are always pesky locks. If in turn you'd be good enough to tell me some stories of your own." She looks back with a small fond smile, never having heard a mercenaries stories before in her life. Her own will probably make Korrin laugh because they almost make Araceli laugh sometimes.

"You must come to me then, I promised a friend to go to Zimevur with her one day and that's a desert country, all of it baked red and gold under the sun. I have clever fingers for much more than just locks and pesky doors and windows. Your morale should absolutely be considered for the good of the Inquisition though, I will help make your case to the quartermaster if needed." After all, it'd be Korrin's turn to do the bulk of the complaining and Araceli will always be a willing pair of ears.

It's not as though Korrin isn't doing plenty of complaining where they are, nor will she stop until the mire is firmly behind them. But she smiles warmly at the tiny pseudo-Antivan woman. "You're so sweet, Araceli. I'd be in your debt, you know. Hopefully you'd find good use for that." If anyone could, it'd be her. And she can't help the suggestive tone, needing something to look forward to.

"But of course I'll share my collection of tales, preferably over something decent to drink. If we make it back to the tavern early enough, remind me to tell you the one about the rabbit, the donkey and the caravan. It's...unique." And pretty scandalous, at least by the Inquisition's standards.

No matter how often she's complimented - and it's never vain to acknowledge such things, only polite - she still flushes at it, just a hint of it at her cheeks. "The things you say but words are words and I am very good at making sure debts are squared away to the benefit of both parties. After all, it's good to be generous, no?" Take that any way you will and please enjoy that swing of her hips that really isn't required to help her progress through the bog as she squints at something in the gloom that looks unfortunately like a few corpses.

Such a shame and she draws both rapiers, pointing ahead without a word to signal Korrin.

"That certainly sounds like the sort of story that deserves my undivided attention, not that you don't already have it by virtue of how captivating you are but that sounds like the sort of thing where I will want to know every sordid detail."

"You will, I promise. Once we're warm and dry and with enough in us to take the edge of this Maker-forsaken hellhole." Oh, that flush and the swing of her hips are things Korrin definitely notices, though unfortunately the corpses put any admiring on hold. Frowning, she slips into a defensive stance and casts Barrier over them both.

As the corpses approach, Korrin remains where she is, trusting in the barrier to protect her for at least a short while. She won't have Araceli be alone in taking the offensive, of course. Thinking fast, the Vashoth mage casts Chain Lighting, avoiding her ally but arcing to each corpse in turn.

Unlike fighting demons, corpses at least are something she's got some basis with because they were people. Once. Dead, undead, they still fight with the usual sort of weapons and so she dances back from the water as Korrin's lightning arcs down. The air about her crackles but it does something to the corpses and that gives her the chance to rush forward, slicing along the belly of one as she goes for the throat of another, punching through quick and cleanly.

Well, not exactly clean, goop dripping out as she pulls the blade back.

"If they get close to the water I'll take them!" She's willing to try to pull them back so they don't land in it, disgusting as it promises to be.

"Do it!" Korrin nods firmly, eyes on the corpses as she trusts Araceli to do her part. For her own, she'll stay back as much as possible but still remain within range for staff and spells. If they get too close, she'll blur away with Fade Step, and thus keep them distracted from her roguish companion. Spinning with her staff, she fires at the nearest one relentlessly.

Blades free, she spins around to tug a corpse closer, not the move of a duellist but of a killer as her blade slices cleanly across the throat of a corpse, grimacing when it no longer holds itself up. She doesn't let it drop and instead touches it as little as possible as she sets it on the ground, ducking low as an arrow shoots past.

"Really missing my pistols!" Complaining about that won't help but one shot between the eyes and no more arrows to almost hitting her ear as she cuts low at wrinkled legs and up into the knee as she rises. "You've got that one yes? I'll keep others from approaching."

"I'm missing them, too, trust me!" Korrin may not be able to picture Araceli's former weapons exactly, but if they're as effective as they sounded, then they would indeed be a boon in this situation. As it is, they have to work with what's available to them. Unleashing a blast of fire at that corpse, she finishes it off before stepping away, now looking for a better vantage point from which to trigger her next spell.

Her beautiful darling pistols, please rest safely or perhaps be lifted up by a squid before being damaged too terribly. If she had the seemingly limitless pockets the way she would at the palace, then throwing knives would be worthwhile but she shudders to think of how much it'll cost to refill her stash back at Skyhold because she won't go swimming for any here.

With a grimace, she kicks one forward to get caught in the fire, a grim smile on her face when it blunders into another corpse. At least it's one of the smaller parties, not like some. Another arrow thuds past - how they can actually do that is beyond her - as she spins to parry a heavy swing, staggering back more than she'd like from the force of it.

"You alright?" Korrin doesn't dare stop and devote her full attention to Araceli when there's danger about, but she can at least give the not-Antivan a chance to recover. Blurring ahead with Fade Step, she draws their attention to her with a few blasts from her staff to lure them away, then setting an explosion underneath them.

As they burn, Korrin tosses a healing potion toward her friend. Araceli might not need it right now, but it's better that she have one close at hand, just in case. Given the state of the mire, it's bound to be needed at some point during the Inquisition's stay.

It takes a minute or two for her to respond, dancing back from the corpse and sidestepping away from another slash with a muttered curse and angry hiss. They shouldn't be this co-ordinated. They shouldn't even be doing this and the discussion of spirits doesn't help because the dead should get to remain dead, not moving with desires that aren't even theirs to attack people without any quarrel with them. Her attention is stolen momentarily when Korrin streaks past, never quite sure how someone can move faster than she can when usually that sort of speed is impossible and anything close is to do with how light on your feet you are.

"Cheers!" She has to switch rapiers into both hands and aim another kick at the knees of the corpse so she can catch it and pocket it, the dull pain of a glancing blow - boiled leather and a layer of light mail do their job - catching her before she gets out of the way. A blade through the face works and there's not blood on her but it still hurts. There are worse things than the usual irritating but rarely life-threatening infection out here after all. "I think I understand why there are so many big shielded warriors about normally."

Korrin can't help but chuckle at that, as she finishes off another corpse before glancing around quickly to ensure that they aren't going to be ambushed. Given that water is everywhere and corpses with it, that seems inevitable. But it's not going to happen on her watch, if she can help it.

"They definitely do their fair share, and take the attention away from us. Maybe I should've waited for one of them to join in, but after making it to this festering pit, I really just needed to blast things. Company was a secondary priority, not that I'm ungrateful for it."

At least it's thinning out now though she does have to wonder at how they don't stop until they're dead, forced onwards even when they have to move over and around the bodies of their fellow fallen. Still, anything Fade related after the rift isn't something to dwell on because it makes her realise just how lucky she was not to be more changed than she is.

"Even just that weird grunting thing?" Do you know how hard it is to fight when you're trying not to giggle? It's really hard, don't do it. Right now she's gritting her teeth to duck beneath the blade and behind another, slicing the throat again because it's neater and easier. "But I'm more surprised they haven't all sunk like stones in all that heavy gear, the noise they make too!" After all, she knows just how well sound travels through water and the squelching made her wince and dart ahead of the worst of them to at least see what might be stirring.

The last one by her falls and nothing seems to be surfacing as she makes her way back, stepping over the bodies as she flashes a smile. "Anything to help in these trying times, morale is important, the Inquisition must be as happy as it can be, however it finds them."

As that last one falls, Korrin is fairly certain that there's nothing else nearby ready to attack them...at least, at the moment. As soon as they so much as cause the water to ripple again, that has every chance of changing. She knows it, and will take what reprieve they can get, flashing a smile in turn.

"I think that's why they haven't sent out more of them, since we'd mostly just be feeding the mire with that heavy gear instead of it seeing proper use later. It's a pain, but nothing about this assignment was going to be easy, anyway. It just means you'll just have more people willing to learn from you on how move so lightly on your feet."

She certainly enjoys watching that, knowing her Fade Step is a cheat and not nearly as elegant. "Honestly, nothing short of leaving this mire long behind us will truly raise morale, but such help at least prevents it from becoming any worse. We can always head back soon and see if they've sent anything to help with that; decent drink, dry boots, something actually flammable...." What she couldn't do for a good fire right now, one not easily put out by the constant drizzle around them.

More than anything else, she wants to clean up. Even if the contact with the dead is minimal, she still feels unclean but because the water can't be disturbed and is full of corpses in various stages of rotting, she can't wash up. She'll need to wait until she's back at camp though she does produce a rag from a pocket at her hip to wipe down her hands before starting on the rapiers. Needless to say they'll be thrown in a fire back at camp.

"I'm not sure how much of that will be easy to teach though. Here it's dangerous because it's like the climbing and falling - you have to do it and get a feel for it to know what to correct. Skyhold has snow, not water. I can teach some of it but it takes years to master how to creep like a thief."

Not that she wouldn't try her best but it would be foolish to attempt to teach here when they have so much to fight as it is. Maybe if she can go to the coast at some point soon or if they manage to clear out the very worst of the dead here then she'll show people how to move as she does although Korrin's way of blurring past the danger impresses her plenty. "I should have snuck some spices from the kitchen, there's this thing we have on ships with whatever there is to be eaten, it's called salamagundi, you just toss it all in a big pot and cook it, the spices cover the sins. And I do have booze in my pack, more than what's in the flask I have on me. You're welcome to some of both if you'd like."

Korrin smile warmly at that, her mood greatly improved by the thought decent drink. "You're a life-saver, Araceli. I'll repay you for that generosity, count on that. Sooner or later I'll get a care package sent to Skyhold, and you'll have samples for more than just Ferelden fare. And I know the spice-trick well; it's saved my company more times than I can count. I didn't bring much with me for that, but assuming it's still in my travel bag, you're welcome to whatever you'd like."

She sighs, brushing off more rain that has the audacity to dribble on her forehead. "You have a point, I know. I'd be willing to learn anyway, but it's probably not a good idea to set a bad example for the impressionable people who can't blur out of the way of danger."

Waving away the words, she still manages a sunnier smile than most have seen since arriving in the Mire. "I know about a life surrounded by water you can't drink when you don't have what we do to purify it and at sea? It turns to slime. So we always take rum, brandy, whatever else. Plenty is watered down before we go so no one is blind drunk on their shift but dehydration is a bad way to go. I'm excited already to try something other than bland or stodgy." Seriously, do they not have tastebuds in some lands? Even up in Albas where it's frozen and they need special glass houses to grow plants they have spices and herbs to flavour a dish and warm someone up. "I don't think most of the people on cooking duty realise that you can actually make something not taste like boiled mulch. Maybe we should commandeer that duty at least once and show them something."

She would've taken some supplies from the Skyhold kitchen but she already had two big bottles of drink in her pack and there was a mountain to deal with and a long march. Next time she'll find the space because next time they'll be able to drink the damn water.

"I was studying maps in the library before we left, if there's a chance to go to this Storm Coast I can show you there, if there aren't undead lurking in every body of water that is."

"Oh, the Storm Coast is much more reasonable. The name is apt, so expect to be rained on, but there's no marsh to be had at all. It's more mountainous than anything else. The most you have to worry about are random bandits...and bears, of fucking course. At least that's the way it was when I passed through it on my way south."

Which wasn't too long ago, relatively, but definitely before the Breach. Her eyebrows raise at the thought of commandeering cooking duties, and she gestures to Araceli. "I'm not much of a cook, I know one filling recipe and stick to it, but for a capable volunteer? I'd do my best to clear a path for you. Those of us with tastebuds and appetites left would thank you, no doubt."

"Is there anywhere in this world where it isn't raining? Or snowing? Are there no places where two beautiful women such as ourselves might stretch out on white or gold sand to let the sun soak into our skin, where the seas are so blue you could weep. Fewer mountains and no bears, again, we don't have those, only pictures in books." This is such a wild place in all the ways she isn't sure she likes yet, something ominous and less full of wonder than home. Brunilda has her stories of snow-maidens who kiss bears and find their one true love when the bear slips out of their furry pelt but here the bear would probably eat the maiden and then be shot by a hunter and skinned alive. There's little romance, and feeling small happens in the worst way, not because you're in awe of something that cradles you when it could crush you.

Turning abruptly, she clasps Korrin's arm, almost bouncing on the spot because guess what she loves just as much as climbing and rushing into new adventures? "Oh I cooked for everyone in my building, I love cooking for people. There's just something about it that makes me feel warm right down in my bones, you know? I still don't really know how to just make enough for myself or one other person, you get used to making huge portions all at once."

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