faderift | Listen. This is the noise of myth.

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Listen. This is the noise of myth.

WHO: Morrigan, Korrin, Ellana, Thranduil, Alistair, The Medicine Seller, Kit
WHAT: Morrigan takes a bunch of the Inquisition folks deep into the Korcari Wilds in search of Flemeth since she still hasn't shown herself which is a record for Flemeth not showing herself when times of change and crisis are upon us in the Dragon Age
WHEN: Early August
WHERE: Korcari Wilds
NOTES: ooc sign-up post and ic chat post about it; will update with any warnings but given Flemeth please assume all the standard canonical warnings for Flemeth and Chasind related content. As much Korcari Wilds info as you might need can all be found here

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Ellana stares out into the gloom of the swamp and brush, feeling her heart pound against her rib cage. These things are so much easier when you already know what you're dealing with because weaknesses can be exploited.

"You think it speaks Common?" she asks under her breath. Whether she means for Korrin to hear it or is just making a comment isn't clear, but whatever is out there isn't inclined to listen. One might say that the sharp command plus three armed people staring in its direction might be giving the thing stage fright.

He starts to lower his axes some to his sides, squinting into the woods. ...uh. "Maybe it's changed its mind."

The large Vashoth woman relaxes her position only slightly, but she certainly doesn't let her guard down. Frowning, she shakes her head. "Like I said, fucking with us. Letting us know we're in its territory and live at its leisure. I've seen that shit before."

Right. Well, Ellana doesn't want to relax either, but she does want to get away from whatever it is. "Better keep going then, until it feels like not letting us." She doesn't say her next thought aloud -- because she's the one who brought attention to this in the first place -- but whatever this thing is just seems to be wasting their time as they search for the Chasind. They need to get back on track.

Guess who was paying attention to all of that the longer it kept going, guess who happened to be stalking closer with a face like a stormcloud and her staff in her hand? Why it's the lady of the hour and she cannot believe what she was witness to with all of that.

"If a solitary serpent is enough to provoke that," she hisses with her voice pitched just low enough to indicate her displeasure without causing a further ruckus, "then perhaps you are best suited to falling behind at the outskirts to wait. Surely you have faced far worse than that."

Trail signs. Looking for them. This is the task. So help her she will find that snake or any snake and throw it at you if that helps to actually confront it.

Has she ever seen a blighted snake though? (they're freaky a f.)

A little chagrined, he sheathes his axes and sends a surreptitious glance at the other two to see if they're feeling as appropriately sheepish as he does. That's when he spots it--just beyond the stormcloud that is Morrigan's black-as-night scowl, a mark on the path.

"Hey." He points. "That what you're looking for?"

Right, shutting up. At least for a moment, Korrin is abashed, knowing full well that she's faced worse even if few places compare in terms of creepiness. She doesn't place her staff on her back again, but her stance relaxes somewhat. And then she glances where Kit points, narrowing her eyes.

"It looks that way, doesn't it? Another sign."

Ellana is far from looking sheepish. It's simple: either they spend five minutes staring down a snake or they spend five minutes sitting there while someone sucks the venom out of someone else's leg. Seeing as they're walking around blindly, hoping to stumble across signs of a people who aren't even expecting them, this is hardly wasted time.

Besides, how do they know Flemeth can't turn into a snake? Checkmate, friends.

She doesn't speak, but she does move forward, her staff doubling as a walking stick as she approaches the trail marker.

Morrigan literally knows. That is her mother. She raised her. She knows Ellana, please voice this thought so Morrigan can confirm some facts but she nods at the sign.

After all, she knows them well enough herself even if it's been years; some things never change, tradition being tradition, that the one of them coming from the Legion spots it doesn't surprise her overly much. Survival in the Deep Roads must depend upon it.

"They do not appear to be any of those that may point to a cache, not marked as this. I have found piles of stones set the same way yet easily overlooked." Morrigan might actually sound hopeful. Not that she wants to because this is her life after all but she's been stumped twice already so far, she feels she's due something going her way on this hunt.

Kit approaches the trail marker and considers it with a critical eye; he's seen his fair share of markers of a different kind in the Deep Roads, but they all have similar characteristics when you get right down to it.

He straightens up and squints into the bush. "Guess we ought to adjust our course a hair, in that case," he says to Morrigan, and turns to look back at her as well as the others. "Southwest, rather than south. I think this," he says, gesturing downwards towards the soil and undergrowth, "is a footpath. Hasn't been used in a while, but I can see the signs."

The Medicine Seller emerged from the trees. He had a habit of vanishing, sometimes for hours, always rejoining the group without much comment. There was little point when he hadn't found much - the Chasined were quite good at covering their tracks.

He was well at home in the wilds. He didn't look like he should be - he looked like the kind of person who'd be more at home in a wealthy manor than trudging through wetlands. But the Medicine Seller had lived his life traipsing through the places in his world where civilization gave way to tangled roots and the barriers between the physical and spiritual broke down and the world belonged to older things.

"There is a deer trail," he said in his slow monotone. He held up what seemed to be a broken stick at first, though on closer inspection it was, in fact the broken shaft of an arrow. It had been stripped of its head and plumage and one end had the unmistakable coppery stain of blood. He'd found it, discarded in a shrub. He was sure the implication was clear enough - someone had been hunting in the area, and given the fresh stains on the shaft, it hadn't been too long ago.

And then he added, almost absentmindedly;

"There is also a considerable quantity of dawn lotus."

He was helping.

"Chasind are better than those not of the Wilds at moving without trails, to make their way without being seen." Stalkers in particular, let them not have any of them at their backs today to carry word back or to decide they aren't worthy even of that, instead slipping out with blades and worse. "But if they have goods to move..."

Not so easy to take through the thicker undergrowth or the bogs, easy enough to understand that this means something. That there's more than just a path the Chasind use.

"Long has it been since I have ventured--" And whatever else she was going to say is interrupted, neck snapping around fast enough it hurts, pulling tight because whilst most everyone here she knows and would vouch for in terms of their competence in the field, this is the Korcari Wilds. "Were there any deer? Signs of a kill?"

Chasind do have their gods with animal heads.

It's the hasty way Morrigan snaps her attention back towards the Medicine Seller as he emerges from the brush that puts Kit on edge. He glances once more towards the trail as it winds through the brush, then turns to approach the peculiar elf, looking between him and Morrigan speculatively.

"Were there any deer? Signs of a kill?"

"I'm guessing it's a bad sign," he says dryly, "if there's isn't."

"Dawn Lotus? Good, keep those handy for healing." As healing magic isn't Korrin's forte, she's well-stocked on potions and grenades that offer such. Any ingredient that can make more is likewise gathered; at this point, bending down to pick up elfroot is automatic and needs no comment.

But back to the subject at hand, she glances over to Kit and nods, less familiar with the Chasind herself but seeing the logic in it. "Probably. Any sign of activity is useful, at this point."

"Not necessarily, but 'twould be useful to point us lest we chase our own tails. I would caution to beware the wolves here, they have no fear of man that a wolf elsewhere has learned."

Morrigan learned her own form from them so long ago, prowling in the dark shadows and through the undergrowth until she could move as they, could hunt and know the world as any wolf would but the Wilds make it different when a false step could sink some of them deep in stagnant water that hampers their movement.

The wolves, after all, could just as easily have left the kill. Best to keep moving as she feels the ground ahead with her staff and-- yes, beneath the undergrowth to her left is the mostly rotted and sunken-in face of a genlock. A thing she won't forget in a hurry.

Sounds like the wolves Ellana encountered in the past. Then again, she was alone instead of in a group, so that probably had something to do with the "no fear" thing. She'll just remain alert and shapeshift if things get dire. Wolves can't tear through a honey badger hide.

Spotting the face in the water, she's more curious that anything else. Has that been here since the Blight, or do darkspawn still travel these lands? Well, she doesn't voice it aloud. No need for more harsh words from Morrigan. They have a goal, so Ellana will keep heading towards it. It will get Morrigan her answers faster anyway.

"There were tracks."

The Medicine Seller turned his head to the direction from which he came.

"Though the hunters did well to cover their own."

He tucked the broken shaft into the recesses of his sleeve.

"The blood is not human, if that is the concern," he said off-handedly. Not that he was inclined to explain how he knew this. Not that he was generally inclined to explain much of anything, really.

He rejoined the entourage for the time being, falling back in line until something potentially useful would cause him to break ranks again.

"...It would be nice to see wolves again," he mused absent-mindedly as they passed the corpse of the Genlock, preserved for many years to come in the marsh waters.

So that was a Darkspawn.

Kit doesn't so much as fall into step beside the Medicine Seller as end up there as the party orients itself and proceeds into the wilds. Wolves, he decides, would not be a welcome sight, regardless of what the strange elf to his side has to say about it.

Neither is the darkspawn corpse in the marsh, though he's reassured by the state of its decay.

"Seen more than enough of those bastards for one lifetime," he notes as an aside.

"I think even seeing one is too many," Ellana murmurs as they pass. "I'm glad the Blight didn't touch the Marches." She has seen darkspawn since joining the Inquisition, but not near as many as someone like Morrigan or Kit has.

Inclined to go back to her silence for the time being, Ellana does spot something not far off and points towards it. "Is that a trail marker too?"

"Yeah, same. Fucking tainted shits, kill one and a dozen more pop up. It never ends...." The Blight may not have reached the Free Marches, but Korrin's heard enough horror stories from refugees, not to mention seen them herself in the Deep Roads. She doesn't envy the Grey Wardens or the Legion their neverending, thankless task.

Narrowing her eyes where Ellana points, Korrin frowns. "It could be? I'll have a look." She blurs forward to see for herself.

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Listen. This is the noise of myth.

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swoops into this snake situation

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