OPEN ↠ FALSE GODS, GREAT DEMONS (OPEN LOG 1)

[faderifting]

WHO: Living Residents of the Horrible Future
WHAT: Ah ha ha ha stayin' alive, stayin' alive.
WHEN: ALTERNATE FUTURE, 1-15 Cloudreach 9:48
WHERE: Anywhere, but especially Orzammar
NOTES: This is the first open log for False Gods, Great Demons. Anything that happened prior to Cloudreach 9:48 should go on the flashback meme. Most members of the TTT and their friends in Kirkwall will be arriving in Orzammar on approximately Cloudreach 7. In the meantime, feel free to make your own adventures. If you want to blow up an bridge, assassinate an NPC of your own invention, steal supplies, or anything else--it's all yours, go for it!

SOUTHERN THEDAS is a wasteland. The Blight crawling across the Orleian countryside and into Ferelden leaves nothing alive in its wake, scarring the land like an insatiable fire until no birds sing and the only things that grows is the Red Lyrium that speckles cliff sides and crawls up dying trees until they look like rows of jagged bloody teeth. And where it's still green, where people can still survive, the atmosphere is nearly as stifling. Every city and settlement is watched over by a Venatori or trustworthy collaborator. Those who don't keep their heads down and their dissent a whisper may vanish without warning. They may take their whole families with them. There are flashes of hope--an assassinated lordling here, a village rousing itself to brief and doomed rebellion there--but for every man the Imperium loses, they seem to find two to take his place.

NORTHERN THEDAS is at war. The worst of it doesn't reach west into Tevinter or the Anderfels; the line between the Qunari and the Imperium is drawn straight through Antiva, with Nevarra and Rivain on either side quiet and calm as only lands under martial law can be. The Free Marches vary between complacency and rebellion, but the rebellious ones risk ruin--there are murmurs it won't be long before a whole city is made an example. A steady stream of desperate refugees is fleeing north to the Qun, but plenty are picked off and punished as traitors before they can cross into Qunari-controlled territory. Your best best for a clean escape are the pirates who still hold Llomerynn free from both sides of the conflict.

ORZAMMAR is the only kingdom in Thedas that looks much the same--and Kal-Sharok, but they're not accepting outsiders. The heavy doors at Orzammar's entrance are sealed and guarded, as much against the steady flow of refugees asking for help as against the Venatori. The refugees are turned away. There's no way to know who can be trusted, and even if there were, there's not food enough for people who can't fight. Orzammar Thaig is still the dwarves' home--though with stealing shrinking numbers and poor prospects, King Bhelen has been amenable to allowing casteless surfacers some leeway--but the once-abandoned Ortan Thaig is the Inquisition's. Quietly. The only things stopping a full assault on Orzammar is the Venatori's need for dwarf-mined lyrium and the plausible deniability that the Inquisition's remaining rebel bands are using the Deep Roads with Bhelen's consent.

An hour's walk through caves and deepstalker swarms, Ortan is a city in its own right. A crammed city, one where cots and bunk beds crammed into shared housing are the norm no matter how important someone is and you occasionally have to protect your dinner from a restless, swooping griffon, but one where you can still find a pint of ale or a game of cards if you've time to waste on them. It's just that not many people do. There's the watch to keep; the tunnels that creep further into the deep teem with darkspawn who are held back at barricades, while the hidden, narrow tunnels that lead to the surface are watched at all hours so anyone coming or going can be identified. There are weapons to forge and sharpen. Plans to make. Bands to lead. Maybe you weren't a leader five years ago, but these days, there aren't that many people with more than five years' experience still alive to give orders. Fewer every week.

And so we burned. We raised nations, we waged wars,
We dreamed up false gods, great demons
Who could cross the Veil into the waking world,
Turned our devotion upon them, and forgot you.
Threnodies 1:8

Comments

[samahl]

Cyril nodded and then moved to move behind James. "I can do that."

[judgemewhole]

James nodded his head in thanks, as he leaned forward and rested his scrubby face on his hands. He rubbed his beard vigorously, before muttering quietly, "You know - I never had a hard time believing that things could get worse, if you lost one important person .... but considering how many we have lost? Just how bad can it possibly get?"

[samahl]

Cyril felt something grip on his heart in a painful sort of way at the question. It stops him from being able to answer right away. Instead, he settles on starting the massage of the shoulders and neck.

"We could lose Sina," he said finally, after a long moment, giving voice to the first fear that gripped him whenever he thought of what else he could lose in this world.

[judgemewhole]

Something shuddered through James at those words - fear. deep, screaming fear. No. Not Sina, never Sina. Not the last bright light in his world. He swallowed hard, before his hand closed over Cyril's, his voice tight.

"Not that. Not ever. I will die first."

[samahl]

Cyril lets out a shakey breath and then, slowly, he moves forward and wraps his arms around James. It's a hug, in a way, though it ends with his arms draped over James's shoulders. "I know," he says softly. "Many would. It means... everything that so many would protect her. I don't know how I'd do this without you."

Then, he pulls back from the moment of being clingy and focuses on a massage again.

[judgemewhole]

James squeezed Cyril's arm in turn, his throat choked as he managed to croak out, "We'll keep her safe, Cyril. I swear it. Or I shall die trying."

That might be what it came down to, in the end.

[samahl]

Cyril nods. "Thank you," he says. "Though, honestly, I like it better when you are alive, so let's try to keep that as long as possible." His tone was a little dry, but it was the closest he could get to teasing now.

[judgemewhole]

James's mouth twisted wryly, "I shall endeavor to stay alive as long as possible. Just for you."

[samahl]

"Not just for me, for Sina too," Cyril points out. "You make her life better by being here."

[judgemewhole]

James turned, to look over his shoulder, before a thoughtful look came over his face, "So ... we both have to live for her, and not just be willing to die for her as well?"

[samahl]

Cyril offers him a very small smile. It's not as warm as he once was but it's there. "Living for her is probably a bit more important," he supplies.