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

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Hey," Waver said, his tone faux sharp. "I don't want to hear that it isn't okay to have people to look up to from someone who made an entire show of showing up at Achilles' and Patroclus' graves and supposedly modeled his own relationships after those two."

"To look up to is very different from taking the place of another rather than forging your own path. You are Waver Velvet and not one of my past generals. Nor would I ever wish you to be. Use their skills or even follow some of their ideals but always create your own road to travel." After all, there was a reason why he had his own name down in history rather than being forgotten as just someone who admired Achilles as he had. And did.

"And I was trying to make the same point about looking up to people when you steamrolled me with an assumption about self-confidence being lacking," Waver grumped. It wasn't true, because the attempt had fallen apart in Waver's mouth, but he wanted to make it clear that he was trying.

The topic was getting exhausting anyway. "We're about five hundred meters from the entrance. Keep an eye out for anyone, if you don't mind?"

He paused and blinked then considered what Waver said before laughing softly. "Ah, I did do that, didn't I. It seems even after five years I still have that bad habit to my name."

Ever the man of at least some things never change. "Never fear, boy. I have been watching the entire time we've been out."

"Among others," Waver shot back with an ease he only had with the other man.

Content that there were eyes to look out, Waver retrod the same steps that he always took to exit, seemingly disappearing into the earth through a well concealed staircase, and then back down through a maze of tunnels whose pattern he had long since committed to memory. He didn't pause to make sure Iskandar was behind him either, like some reverse Orpheus situation. He knew.

He was indeed with him, keeping a closer eye now to make sure nothing followed them here. The last thing they needed was for the enemy to learn of this entrance. There were too many lives at stake for that.

With a nod that things were safe again when the dim lighting swallowed them, he went to actually wrap an arm around Waver to tuck him against him. Just that little bit of affection he liked to give to him so he could keep reminding him of how special he was in his eyes.

"Once we are to our place let us have a meal as we talk."

Waver thanked God that he was facing forward, that way Iskandar couldn't see how red his face was at such a gesture. It was stuff like this that made Waver feel like he was a teenager with a crush. He slowed his steps, just to indulge.

"I think there's some leftover stew we can put over the fire. I was planning on getting groceries tomorrow."

"Yes. We have enough for supplies for the three of us tonight. I checked when I woke up today."

Just so he would know and so he would be able to share if they needed to. It was important that others got what they could give them in these dark times after all. "I am looking forward to the stew though."

"Thank you for doing that. And I'd say I was looking forward to the stew, but that'd be a lie. I'm getting sick of it."

Waver smiled and patted Iskandar's hand. They were re-entering the city now, which meant going to deliver the mail to appropriate places. It was a brief enough task though, and soon enough Waver was at the front door, unlocking it.

"After you," he said as the door creaked open.

Iskandar stepped inside and held it open for Waver so that way he could ensure the way was blocked off properly. He nodded his satisfaction when it was shut then went back to wrapping an arm around Waver while they walked.

"We should see if we can manage something other than stew after this one then."

"I'm open to suggestions."

Waver was never a cook back home, and he had only taken it up now because he had to. Any day that he could pass the duty to another was a good day by him.

With a sigh, he stood still, glancing around the apartment.

"So, do you want to sit for this conversation?"

"I do."

And once they were sat and with food he went into the explanation of the rumors. How they would investigate those rumors. They were going to need Jim on this as well but at least he could be content for the time being that Waver had details.

It was a beginning. That was what he could ask for.

Waver sighed when Iskandar finished, unhappy with what he had heard. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, then simply said, "Well. Just set a date to head out and we'll see what we find."

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

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