THE SEAS SHALL RISE & DEVOUR, Part I

[faderifting]

WHO: Any Inquisition members + all rifters
WHAT: A semi-involuntary tropical island vacation
WHEN: Kingsway 20 onward
WHERE: The sea and an island east of Rivain
NOTES: OOC post.

I. THE JOURNEY

Two ships depart from Kirkwall on the morning tide, sturdy vessels crewed by veteran sailors--but a mere skeleton crew, as it turns out, or so a few of them would have you believe. They're prone to assigning tasks to anyone who happens not to look busy, shoving ropes into hands without a care for station or experience, barking out instructions and expecting to be obeyed. With plenty of work to do the journey seems quick, and besides the unexpected chores it's otherwise smooth sailing through the Waking Sea. Some claim to've spotted the Windline Marcher one night, but it could just as easily have been clouds on the horizon, and that's it for excitement until the ships round the island of Brandel's Reach and out into open ocean, the ever-present coastline finally falling away behind.

The sky is bigger out there and the waves are too, especially when a storm strikes a few days out, dark clouds and driving rain sending any inexperienced sailors below decks to wait it out. The worst of it being the pitch of the ship rolling up and crashing down the massive waves, and the way the hold fills with the stench of people being sick. But the next morning dawns calm and clear and with no lasting damage done.

The group is bound for a desert island, drawn on maps with a big deep cove like a bite chomped out the side it, and a narrow channel through the surrounding reefs to reach it. That's the only moment of true tension on the voyage: as soundings are taken every few feet and the helmsmen adjust and readjust in response, carefully threading the needle to avoid running aground on ship-killing banks of sharp coral.

Both ships make it, and anchor offshore in the bay in the sheltering lee of a cliff, safe from future storms. The first party ashore reports back that Qunari are present in the area, but while they've displayed a palpable wariness, hostility does not seem their aim today, and they retreat back up to the hills above the beach as Inquisition forces arrive. Anyone able-bodied is tasked with assisting in unloading, and those less hale with helping the quartermaster's assistants track the process to make sure nothing goes astray between hold and shore.

Camp is to be a collection of tents: large ones beneath which makeshift facilities for cooking, eating, and working are set up, and many small ones designed to hold 2-4 Inquisition agents. They're still hammering stakes into the sand and tying off ropes to the sturdier palms when a shout goes up, though anyone present who possesses an anchor shard will not need to be told: a rift has opened nearby, a couple hundred yards out into the bay, a knot of shapes splashing about it. Better hope the rifters can swim.

II. ARRIVAL

Rifters

You were asleep--deeply or fitfully, for the last time or just resting your eyes for a moment-- and then you were not. And wherever you were was not, anymore, replaced by nothing but the sensation of falling, tumbling into endless, bottomless nothing. If this were still a dream, you would wake before you hit the ground. You can't die in a dream, they say. In some worlds.

In this world, when the afterimage left by a flare of too-bright, greenish light fades, you will find yourself at sea. Not metaphorically (though perhaps that too) but literally: dropped into what is unmistakably the ocean, from the salt in your mouth and the incessant slosh of waves into your face, the squawk of gulls circling overhead. You had better start treading water.

Thankfully, if you can keep your head above the waves long enough to make a quick inspection, it turns out that land is in sight, only a few hundred yards off. Unfortunately, between you and it is a strange slash of greenish light. It sticks up out of the water but seems to continue beneath as well, turning the otherwise-turquoise waters the same pale greenish shade of a man gone seasick. The cluster of demons emerging from the rift are tall, spindly stick-things with too many eyes who flail about like stickbugs dropped in pond, but use the long reach of their arms to attack. Some are hunched and hooded with no eyes at all, their shrouds sodden and draped in seaweed. Others are mere wisps of greenish light that float easily over the surface. While you might get the impression they are as surprised as you to find themselves in the drink, any humor that might bring is probably outweighed by how angry it seems to make them.

If that were not enough to contend with, there is also the narrow splinter of light the same sickly green as whatever brought you here that now glows out of the palm of your left hand. It aches, a bone-deep pain that gnaws even through all the distractions. But there is some good news: from the beach over yonder boats are launching. Perhaps they'll save you.

Rescue

As if rescuing rifters from drowning and demons weren't hard enough work, all the commotion in the water inevitably draws the attention of the local predators. But what arrives isn't the usual eel or ray or even a shark: it's something much bigger and much...redder?

Slinking through the water comes the flash of a fin and the glint of a scaly back, so quick and sinuous it's hard to say how many of the sea serpents there are. As wide around as the circle of a man's arms, with snapping jaws lined with an unnatural number of curving teeth, but what should be smooth snakey curves are instead jagged with the jut of brilliant red crystals that catch the light and make the sea seem to be already splattered with blood. They're studded all over its body, making any even glancing blow carry twice the danger: there's not just the stunning force of the strike to worry about or the possibility of being coiled in a crushing grip, but also being sliced and gored by red lyrium.

And the serpents aren't alone. While all eyes are on the churning water and the incredible sight of demons battling it out with sea monsters (because everything in that water is fair game to the beasts, not just the Inquisition), one sailor is suddenly plucked out his boat and carried screaming down into the depths by a great, crystal-encrusted tentacle. Cleansing runes are effective, but the monsters are canny enough to avoid capture, falling back into deeper water before attacking again. The arrival of a red lyrium-tainted kraken is just about the final straw for the ship's crew, and after seeing the monsters come dangerously close to cleverly flipping one of the longboats, they insist that the Inquisition row back for shore.

If flight is hard to stomach, consider it a tactical retreat: in shallower water the great bulks of the monsters become a liability, thrashing about among the rocks as they try to give chase. Escape back to the beach is possible, and surely the safer course, but it may be possible to lure one of the sea serpents into a tide pool or to beach itself up on the sands. The rest continue to prowl the bay, visible circling the ships at anchor and making any return impossible for the time being.

III. STRANDED

Once everyone is safely on land and out of the monsters' reach—after any wounds have been seen to, with particular attention given to any that may have been exposed to red lyrium—it's obvious that there's no way to leave for the time being. There isn't much to do but to try to make the most of things and try to accomplish what you came here for.

Some of the team will be tasked with continuing to set up camp. Now that the stay might be longer than a single night, it needs to be a little sturdier. The beach and cove are protected from harsh winds and exposure by a half-circle of rocky cliffs, and the Qunari communicate in grunts and one-word answers that large predators make sleeping in the jungle itself a bad idea. They've only been here a few days (that much can be gleaned despite their reticence), but some of the untamed jungle has been cut through to make clear paths to fresh water and fruit sources.

Penetrating the rest of the island is slow, difficult work—though magic may make it easier. The goal is near the top of the formerly volcanic peak in the island's center, but hacking through the growth to create a path may abruptly become a waste of time when it gives way to a steep drop-off or an equally steep incline and forces everyone to double back and try another route. If there was ever a clear road to the top, it's gone now, grown over during centuries of abandonment. But there are signs of past habitation: the lower portions of the island are spotted with crumbling ruins, chunks of moss-coated wall rising out of the forest floor, the occasional pillar looming up amongst the trees. Some have architecture and faded murals that are distinctly elven. Others, more recent, are clearly human, including a statue of Andraste in the center of a clearing. Others are harder to identify.

The predators the Qunari were trying to warn everyone about turn out to be real--they're large, jet-black cats about the size of a height of a mabari but longer, with short manes, near-scaley skin, and horns almost like the Qunari's. And before anyone gets any ideas about keeping one, they're fiercely territorial—always likely to try to eat your face, but doubly so if you come near their adorable kittens. Feeding them may buy a moment or two for escape, but nothing is going to win them over.

Comments

[motherfucking_ghost]

"Okay, yeah, no, I'm all for finding the basics since going back requires navigating the angriest sea critters to ever be. That's good. Fine. Just--if we don't know what kind of activity we're looking for, we could be walking into anything."

Okay, maybe that's a little bit paranoid, but listen, he has a sword, and a sword does nothing if you can't actually reach your target, and if they're going to get ambushed by like...arrow-shooting natives or get sacrificed to a volcano god or maybe there's just a god damn dragon nesting around here, it just seems like stuff to know ahead of time.

He does not actually want to fight a dragon, thanks.

[serannas]

"Yeah." Okay, Ellana is all for adventuring and exploring the unknown, but now he's making her worry a little bit. Still, she tries to remain positive. "But I have magic and you have a sword. Does your shard have any of those special powers I've heard about? If there's trouble, hopefully we can face it." Because she's got long range covered and he has short range covered. Plus she can shapeshift into a couple of badass animals that can rip into things.

[motherfucking_ghost]

Or she could shapeshift into something that gets her the hell away quickly and leave him to the jungle beasts. No thanks! "I can make a shield out of my pain laser?" He demonstrates, flicking a small one from his hands before letting it dissipate. "So I don't need an actual physical shield-shield. So...yeah. Okay. We got fighters. It's...we'll be fine. Someone on this trip has to have a better idea what we're looking for, right?"

[serannas]

How dare you think Ellana would abandon you, Church! She's not a coward. The shield gives her pause, only because she's never seen one put up before, but as quickly as it appears, it's gone and she nods, satisfied. "That, plus I can put up a barrier too. We're good." Her gaze shifts to the direction they've been coming from and she gestures that they should head back since this is a dead end. They can veer off at some point to cut into the vegetation again and make a new path; just not so close to here and the drop off.

"If they do, I haven't heard their ideas on it yet. But that might be the case. Whatever weird thing is going on here, someone needs to get to the bottom of it."

[motherfucking_ghost]

"And whatever weird thing is going on, it got the attention of the Qunari." He's done enough research to know the difference between little q qunari that are the race that does their thing around Thedas and helps out the Inquisition, and big Q Qunari who are from...out in the islands, somewhere? And generally are not, say, super friendly to outsiders.

He might not know specifically the differences, but there's a difference, and he's aware of it. "Like, this isn't their land that they've said or anyone's indicated. But it was enough for them to check it out. Is that a sign that we should be worried, you think?"

[serannas]

"It could be. The Qunari have been traveling into Rivain for years to try and convert the populace peacefully, so this could just be them extending south. But I don't know... my gut tells me they're here because they heard about this mysterious artifact too, and didn't want us to have it." And that could be bad news, if they find it and whatever it is turns out to be something powerful.

[motherfucking_ghost]

"No offense to the rest of us, but maybe they should just have it? If the evil powers that be try to gun for it, I think they're gonna be given about fifty shades of hell for their troubles. I mean, depending on what it is, I guess. I know you guys don't really get along with 'em, but they aren't going to war. Yet."

[serannas]

"I think they've been looking for a reason, though," she replies, face going pensive. "They've wanted to invade the south for years, but Tevinter's been holding them back. It's why they've come along the coast to try and play nice with Rivain instead. And this war against Corypheus has been going on -- what -- two years now? Nearly three? The Qunari sees us weakened, and they might invade."

And that thought makes Ellana's skin crawl. Even in the humid atmosphere, she shivers and wraps her arms around herself. "If the Qunari invade and we can't push them back... and if whatever is here helps them do that? No, we can't let that happen. Do you even know what they do to mages in the Qun?" She's pretty sure she'd rather die. Most mages would rather die than become a saarebas.