faderift | THE SEAS SHALL RISE & DEVOUR, Part I

THE SEAS SHALL RISE & DEVOUR, Part I

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Perhaps. When faced with a greater enemy, they might deign to cooperate. However, I suspect that will be easier done on the part of those agents who bear neither magic nor a shard. The Qunari despise and fear mages, and I can't imagine they'll react well to unknown rift-induced powers, either."

Garahel snorts, obviously not thinking much of the Qunari and their priorities.

"They do?" Oh lovely. He's heard about the conflict with mages and the Chantry/Templars, but this is the first he's heard about the Qunari hating them. "Geez, mages have it rough here. Chantry doesn't treat them well, and neither do the Qunari." He honestly feels bad, and he doesn't understand why they're so feared. For their power, he guesses, but that just seems... stupid.

"The Qunari are worse, I hear; not that I have any intention of seeing this for myself." Inessa's tone is dry as she rubs Garahel's ears. "It's not an easy life, no. 'A mage is fire made flesh, and a demon asleep.' People look at us and are reminded of all that Tevinter -a magocracy- has wrought. They fear history repeating itself in the south, and so they do all they can to ensure it won't. They also fear what comes of possession, and the damage one can inflict in that state. Even after a mage passes their Harrowing or other training, they are always on guard against the spirits and demons drawn to them. 'True tests never end.'"

There's a slight wry smile as she echoes words told to her by the pride demon who had failed at her Harrowing. If she hadn't kept her wits about her, if she had allowed it to deceive her into getting what it wanted, all would have been lost. And it's something she has to deal with every time she enters the Fade. Neverending tests, indeed.

"At any rate, this world has been irrevocably altered, in many ways. Returning to the status quo may not even be possible. Whether or not lasting good comes of it...we'll see."

This strikes a nerve. He doesn't doubt what she says - he's seen plenty evidence to support it. Between what she's said and what Anders told him (a slightly biased source, true, but he doesn't know that). People being seen for the worst in them and nothing else just makes him want to scream. He can't quite put into words why, but it does.

"So they lock mages up in these Circles because they're afraid of what they might do? And I heard about what Templars do to mages that step out of line. That Tranquility thing. It's just awful. I get not wanting to imitate a mistake, but you don't suppress group of people to avoid it. Because then you become a different kind of history that hopefully someday, someone else isn't going to want to repeat."

Not about to stop Prompto's outburst, Inessa patiently listens and is silent for a moment afterward before speaking. Garahel watches them intently, but doesn't interfere, perhaps realizing that some discussions should be had. His mistress nods, a sigh escaping.

"The Templars of the Kirkwall Circle did use Tranquility as a punishment, it's true. For Circles at large, it was meant as a means to avoid the possession of a mage believed too weak to survive the Harrowing. If they cannot control themselves, if they succumb to a demon, the damage would be incalculable. I cannot deny that, even as I wonder how much could have been done, was done, to ensure that it was the very last resort."

She paces, her next words a bit less polished in tone. "...this is not easy for me to speak of, Prompto, but I'll try. Life is not kind to city elves. When the Templars found me, I was a sickly, malnourished alienage girl who likely would not have survived childhood. The Circle gave me regular meals, clothes that fit, an education to rival any in Thedas. I was happy there, for the first time in my life. I thrived in the system, and others like me were similarly raised up. We would never have had that chance outside it, not as elves. And yet, I never saw my parents again; they died during the Fifth Blight. I'm the elf other elves call 'flat-ear' because I'm so out of touch with my elven heritage.

Mages have the potential to be dangerous, very dangerous, and we need an education to help us counter this. I believe that firmly. But I also believe it can be done without strict separation from the world at large."

As always, the issue is more complicated than he first realized. But isn't that always the way?

"Given that there was a rebellion, something tells me not enough. Maybe it wasn't like that everywhere, but people suffered." He frowns heavily. A mage succumbing to a demon... "What exactly happens when a mage succumbs to a demon? If they're - possessed? Is that what it's called? Is there no other way of helping them when that happens?"

Anders mentioned being able to disconnect the spirit that had been inside of him, though it resulted in the spirit being killed. Couldn't that work for all cases? Or is there something he's missing? (Yep, there is. Inessa gets the joy of explaining the finer points of possession to Prompto.)

Guilt gnaws at him as she talks about her childhood and how the Templars rescued her. He ran full tilt into this subject without thinking it through, though he had no way of knowing her background. It does, at least, put it more into perspective for him, even if he still doesn't agree with a lot of the practices he's heard about the Circles so far.

"Sort of pictured life in the Circle as something akin to a prison. Which, I guess it still was since you didn't have a choice in being there, but at least you were taken care of. That's something." Even if only in the basic sense. "But yeah, you shouldn't have to be cut off from the world just to learn how to handle your powers." There's a small smile. "Thank you for telling me about that, especially since it wasn't easy." Boy does he know what that's like.

"It wasn't, but I know you need to hear different perspectives, since you weren't raised in Thedas. Only hearing one kind will give you a very stilted outlook." Inessa returns that small smile, strangely feeling a little lighter for having shared some of her story.

"When a mage is possessed, the outcome is nearly always tragic and violent. There is a means to attempt to save them, but it is no guarantee. It requires a group of highly-trained mages and an abundance of lyrium. Fighting the demon in the Fade may free the mage of possession...or it might mean the death of the mages involved. The high cost means that such attempts are not always made. And when the possessed mage is too far gone, they transform. The resulting abomination can easily destroy entire towns, unassisted."

Welp.

That's not remotely horrifying or anything. And it shows on Prompto's face. What is it with this place??

"Geez... I don't - man, I don't even have words for that. That's just, beyond awful." No wonder the natives fear demons so much. No wonder they fear rifters and mages. Still doesn't make it right, but he understands a little better. "Why just mages? Can't demons possess other people?"

Yeah, sorry, Prompto. Never let it be said that Inessa sugarcoats what happens, but she still holds that it's better for him to learn about it now than in the midst of an abomination rampage. She nods solemnly, unable to dismiss the fears of the common folk when she's seen the dangers of abominations with her own eyes.

"They can, I believe, but they rarely choose so. The power of a mage is a lure to them, and the fact that we can interact with them in the Fade, whereas others cannot. Simply put, we're easier prey. Tranquil, on the other hand, are believed to be immune to possession; they cannot cast magic, and are cut off from the Fade entirely. Thus, to a demon, they would be rather unappealing."

And he thought the daemons in his world were bad. Well, they absolutely were, but at least they didn't possess people. Though Eos's daemons weren't contained in the Fade like the ones here are, which... he kind of wishes they were. Only daylight kept them away, and that was fading fast in his world.

"Right. If you're gonna possess someone, you're gonna wanna go for maximum damage slash havoc potential. Mages can set things on fire with a wave of the hand. Takes a bit more prep work with a non-mage." It was all ludicrously unfair to mages.

"Precisely." Inessa nods, a bit more composed again. "The Templars and Chantry may overcorrect -an understatement, I know- but the truth is that a mage must always be vigilant against the temptations of the Fade, and they must know themselves. They must know their failings, so they do not succumb to them when it truly matters. That particular point is an education all mages need, and will always need.

...but one perspective gives you one perspective, and none are infallible. If you want to understand mages and their concerns, speak with as many as you can, learn their stories if they're willing to share. I suppose that can be said about many aspects of Thedas, as well."

He nods. There's always more than one side to every story. And Prompto does plan on talking to more mages, if he can. At least there's some common ground between them and rifters: automatic distrust by the population at large. If it weren't for the Inquisition, they'd probably be outcasts.

"I suppose that would also mean talking to the Templars, too?" He's not sure he really wants to, though. Maybe there are some good ones, but a lot of them would have been willing to participate, or at least turn a blind eye, to what was done to mages if things had gotten this bad.

"Yes, there's that. I would suggest Ser Norrington, who has always been agreeable and fair, as well as Ser Coupe, who has seen much and has a worthwhile perspective. I admit I don't know the others very well; I haven't had to directly deal with templars for a few years, and none from my Circle are here." Garahel barks at her and she nods, as though reminded. "Aleron Darton and Malcolm Reed are Seekers, those ostensibly in charge of the Templars, so they would have their own insight."

Those are all dudes she just listed. This observation's born partly out of Prompto being, well, Prompto and being kinda disappointed he doesn't get to talk to more women, but it's also just because he realizes that, yeah, not a single woman is listed and either she just doesn't know any or there is a huge gender discrepancy amongst the Templars. That might say a lot right there.

"Norrington, Coupe, Darton and Reed. Okay, I... think I'll be able to keep all of that straight." Ahahaha probably not, but he's gonna try! "Seekers are in charge of the Templars? Are they part of the Chantry, too? Some kind of priest?"

Prompto will be surprised to learn that Ser Coupe is actually a woman, but it's true that men tend to dominate in the Templar Order. Or the Seekers, for that matter. Inessa nods, not surprised if he can't remember them all but she'll happily supply the names again, as need be.

"No, they're not priests. They investigate Templars for corruption, and ultimately report to the Chantry. Though with the Divine dead and the Lord Seeker absent, I can only assume their power is curtailed as well. I'm only aware of those who have allied with the Inquisition, at this time."

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THE SEAS SHALL RISE & DEVOUR, Part I

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