THE FALLOW MIRE

[faderifting]

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.

Comments

[gatheringstorm]

A curt nod and a few moments later, and Korrin has a small but stable fire going nearby, though she had to move a few things out of the way to do so. Merrick's tentmates can rearrange things later, as right now the only thing that matters is keeping the elf warm. She sighs in relief, needing that warmth too, but moves so that she isn't blocking Merrick from it.

Glancing over, her expression softens. "He's tough, I'll give him that. I can leave my potions for him; it's not as though I can't pick up more at the healer's tent, anyway."

[serannas]

Ellana's fingers are shaking from her worry as she pushes Merrick's coat open. The clan has lost enough, and the thought of losing anyone else before their time is one she doesn't want to entertain.

"Thank you, Korrin. I'm so grateful that you were there. Could you help me set him up so I can get off his coat?"

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin response to that thanks with a slight smile, though really she's wishing now that the contest had never happened. It was something to kill time in a horrible place, but it had all gone wrong so far. Merrick is going to have to do a lot of convincing if he wants another one ever again.

"Of course. He's pretty light, for me." No slight on his dignity, honest, but elves aren't any strain on her whatsoever. She crouches to do as requested, setting him up with a surprisingly gentle touch.

[serannas]

"There were are," Ellana says softly, trying to soothe herself as she sees Merrick's head roll around on his neck. "We'll get you out of these wet things and all warmed up." She pushes the wet, clinging fabric back off his shoulders before moving to his wrists to try and pull the sleeves off.

It's hard to see him this way. He always acts so tough and guarded, but right now he's completely vulnerable. And since he can't look after himself, Ellana's going to do it for him.

[dalishious]

When Merrick returns to consciousness he doesn't open his eyes right away. There's a moment where he's sure that he won't see anything but the black water closing over his head-- But then he feels warmth, hears voices, feels someone peeling the wet clothes from his body.

His instinct are well-honed--even more so with Zevran's tutelage--enough for him to dart his hand up and seize Ellana's wrist before he's even fully conscious, stopping her movements.

He blinks awake, and when he realizes it's Ellana he releases her immediately. Then he puts together what's happening, what she's been doing, and his eyes blow wide.

"Don't--" is all he manages, and he pulls his shirt weakly back over his shoulder, desperate to conceal his body from her.

[gatheringstorm]

It's difficult for Korrin to see him like this too, even though she doesn't have the shared history that comes with the clan. Merrick isn't conscious to complain, fortunately, so hopefully this will go quickly for them all. She glances to the tent's entrance, but they're still alone for now.

"I can't imagine much of that will be salvageable. It'll smell like the swamp forever--" As it is, her armor's probably due for the same fate and Korrin tries not to look at the mess of it now. She'd do the same thing again, no regrets, and blames the swamp, not Merrick, if it can't be saved.

About to say more, Korrin perks up when Merrick finally rouses to consciousness. She sags a little in relief, glad to hear him speak again. "Let us help, Merrick. You need to get out of all that and warm up."

[serannas]

Ellana's hands slip away into her lap, even as she nods along with what Korrin is saying. She's so glad to see Merrick awake and speaking that she needs to take a moment to collect herself.

"Oh, Merrick, I was so worried! Please, will you let us help you? You're freezing and you need to put on dry clothes." While she can understand him not wanting her to see him undressed, his health is the bigger issue right now.

[dalishious]

Merrick shakes his head vehemently, but he's too weak to protest further. How violently he's shivering isn't much helping his case, either.

His body slumps back down against Korrin. "Nn-o," he mumbles, but it sounds much more like exhausted muttering.

[gatheringstorm]

At this point, Korrin rather doubts his coherence anyway. She just shakes her head at Ellana, sighing. "He's too worn out to do it himself. Just do what needs to be done and fast." Practicality has to win out, and she didn't save Merrick only to see him lost to the cold and wet.

[serannas]

As much as she doesn't want to go against Merrick's wishes, Ellana has to do what's best for him right now. Whatever keeps him alive. Korrin is right, and Ellana reaches forward again.

"It's all right, Merrick," she says soothingly. "We're going to help you, I promise. It won't hurt. Trust us, please." She opens up his jacket again and tries to get his sleeves off.

SELF-HARM TW

[dalishious]

It's no good. Merrick can't resist this and his resolve is wavering. He feels like his fight is, for once, gone. Sucked down into that dark, dark water with that split second of surrender he'd felt. That thing he'll never speak of or even think of again, not since his instinct has been survive survive survive ever since that hemp cord had snapped.

He won't accept death, not ever. He won't accept defeat. But right now, his body seems to be betraying him.

The wet sleeve is pulled from his body and a multitude of scars--light against the darkness of his skin--are revealed in the firelight. Some old, some very new. Some that aren't even scars yet, but wicked red cuts that are too careful and uniform to be a result of battle. Little gashes in a neat line down his wrist, and crueler, deeper ones on the other side of his forearm. It's a tapestry of unreleased anger at the world, never meant for another to see.

[gatheringstorm]

As her gaze inevitably takes in the various scars and cuts, Korrin's expression softens. She know well what the multitude of gashes means, marks obviously not made by any beast fought. It's nothing she has done to herself, but the Vashoth mage has fought alongside many who left the Qun, and have done similiar things to themselves. Whether needed an outlet for their own anger or trying to scar themselves physically as much as they were mentally, she didn't know and didn't ask. But it's not something one forgets, and she can't help but compare what she saw then to what's before her eyes now.

Swallowing hard, she averts her gaze. This isn't anything Merrick wants them to see and she'll try to respect that. "Let's get him comfortable, then I can see about finding his tentmates to let them know to enter quietly."

[serannas]

It isn't a sight she ever could have predicted, and Ellana's eyes flood with tears even as she keeps working, pulling a blanket over Merrick so she can get his pants down without looking. Now she understands why he didn't want them to see.

She works fast, grabbing dry clothes for him that she hurries to put on to cover him up the way he wants to be. She doesn't ask Merrick why, because she knows why, and she also knows that she's never been a person who can help him, because he hides parts of himself from her. Not just the scars, but the temper, the rage. While she's heard about his fights, he's never had one in front of her before. Now she's seen something that he's wanted kept from her.

Once his dry clothes are on, she pulls the blanket up more and nods to Korrin. "You can let him down now." To Merrick, she says, "It's all right. You'll warm up fast now."