OPEN ↠ HEART LIKE ICE

[faderifting]

WHO: New Rifters & Inquisition Members
WHAT: A journey south to make new friends and kick some ass
WHEN: Drakonis 15-25
WHERE: Sunless Lands
NOTES: Violence and language assumed. Warn for anyting else. OOC post.

The Sunless Lands are not, in fact, sunless. This time of year there can be as many as eight hours of daylight, some of it blinding where it reflects off of snow and ice that stretches from the southern edge of the Kocari Wilds as far as anyone can see, broken only occasionally by rocky masses of land jutting out of the snow cover or barren tundra peeking out in patches where constant, unforgiving wind has pushed it aside. You'll be traversing this span primarily on foot—there are sleighs, too, pulled by hardy dogs, but they're carrying essential supplies rather than spare people. The only way to get a ride is to successfully feign passing out.

Beyond the dogs, the area isn't devoid of native wildlife: white fennecs hunt rodents underground, and a herd of excessively fluffy wild druffalo is seeking out whatever vegetation it can find. But hunting down a meal or two early and preserving rations for further south would not be a bad idea, because the further south the team travels, the more inhospitable the terrain grows, and the less life can be seen. And sometimes not much of anything can be seen, when clouds roll by and burst with snow thick enough to halt progress entirely for hours.

The nights are cloudy as often as clear, but when they are clear the sky is split by green and purple ribbons of light.

I. THE RESCUE

Two days' journey south, the monotonously icy horizon is broken by something new: smoke rising in interrupted puffs, an intentional signal. Someone is out there. Chances are, it's the rifters, with or without their first group of intended rescuers. But there's no way to be sure. And approaching with caution is wise either way. Rifters have strange powers (and strange personalities), and they've been out here for days now, dealing with demons and Maker knows what else on their own. For all anyone knows, they could be the reason for the rescue team's disappearance. Orders are to approach carefully.

Then, once contact has been made and initial concerns have been allayed, make sure those poor people have something to eat, and try to figure out where their original rescuers disappeared to.

II. THE STORM

After the rifters are recovered, there's still the matter of the red lyrium mine to address. Another two days' journey south will put the group within good range of the mine: not so close as to be seen, but close enough to be able to get there in a couple of hours as needed.

Halfway there, however, in the middle of the day, progress comes to an abrupt half when the darkest clouds yet gather suddenly on the horizon and barrel down on the group, bringing with them a glut of snow that reduces visibility to only a few feet and wind that roars so loudly you have to shout to be heard. Magic can help some with heat, but the storm shows little sign of quickly abating and with hours of deadly cold conditions to deal with, digging in and getting cozy for a few hours might be the most feasible solution for everyone.

III. THE VILLAGE

Shortly before the point everyone is aiming for—one marked by an enormous stone carving of an owl, several times taller than a man, that's inexplicably been left by the ancients in the center of the tundra—something else appears not far to the west. On closer inspection, it turns out to be a circle of low-sitting animal-skin tents pressed down into the snow to protect them from wind, rocky fire pits, and abandoned sleighs. Overall, it's a cross between camp and village indicative of a nomadic group that's staying a while but not forever.

It's empty now, with a coating of snow on most of the structures that indicates it's been at least a few days since anyone was here. Closer inspection reveals personal belongings inside the tents, including toys and clothing belonging to children—and, in many tents, chunks of red lyrium in the center or beneath the skins that form the beds, each piece emanating heat. They probably thought it was safer than fire.

Wherever they went, they don't come back while the Inquisition is there. But the activity does get noticed. A few hours after arrival, enormous white bears apparently moving in a pack come within a hundred yards of the camp and pace at a distance, watching the interlopers with wary interest. Some of them are wearing collars or harnesses decorated in the same style as the tents. For enough food, they may come closer, and they'll turn out to be abnormally tame.

IV. THE BATTLE

The red lyrium mine that Corypheus' followers built when their operations were crippled in Emprise du Lion is nestled in an icy canyon, with massive scaffolding built up the sides of the cliff and too many cages to count, though few of them hold living prisoners anymore. It's a massive operation, but one that's been crippled by its distance from civilization. It's sparsely guarded compared to its size, and other than the cliffs, it has minimal natural protection. The enemy has magic-silencing Templars, enormous behemoths, and a chained white-furred giant, but they are clearly not prepared to be attacked.

Ahead of the onslaught, traps are set and any surviving prisoners are evacuated under cover of darkness. Everyone else sent to fight either creeps down shortly before dawn, rappelling quietly to avoid notice in the dark, or waits at the top for the first surprise strike to provide enough distraction for them to descend more openly. If anyone has been particularly nice to the bears (see above) then it is entirely possible they'll allow themselves to be ridden into battle.

Once their presence is known, their orders are pretty simple. Destroy it all. Leave no one behind and nothing worth returning for.

Fire is a good strategy. Red lyrium doesn't do well in heat.

Comments

Alexandra Karahalios (new rifter)

[periastron]

III a - BEARS
"Hey, now." Alex was shocked to see the polar bears, and then delighted, and has slowly spent the last little while drawing closer, interacting with them. All the moodiness and bite that she can exhibit when talking to other people seems to disappear when she's interacting with animals - she holds out her hand, and one of the bears smooshes its snout against it, drawing out a quiet laugh. "This makes about everything else that's happened totally worth it," she says to the bears, gently running her hand down its neck.

"We should probably check those harnesses aren't rubbing you raw, but. Seems like whoever put them on you might've been gone a bit. You okay with letting me check?"

This is fucking awesome. Bears! Bears that you can approach and not die!

BEARS. "You're a charmer, aren'tcha?" The bear is nosing at some fish that she has, and she hands it over very willingly, as she starts to check around the hardness to make sure the bear's not suffering for wearing it for too long.


III b - MORE BEARS
HELLO, yes, Alex is standing in front of a seated polar bear, the white bulky form towering over her, and very carefully cleaning an injury on its leg. It is very tame, but makes a sound and tries to pull its paw away - she stops, speaks to it gently, and gradually is able to start cleaning the wound again.

"Don't worry, mate, we'll have you right as rain in no time."


III c - MAYBE BEARS LATER but for now red lyrium
She's crouched down in one of the tents, looking at the red crystals curiously. "I bet if someone touches that, this is going to turn into some Cave of Wonders bullshit," she says to no one in particular, or possibly to the koala inside her shirt. "Everything is lava, rocks are falling, you have touched the forbidden treassuurrrreee." A dramatised, comical growl, as she stares at the crystals.

They're warm though. The wonders of magic, probably, though being Alex she can't totally resist reaching for a stick so she can poke at them, to see if the effect is the same to poking glowing coals in a fire.


CLOSED TO CHANCE.
It's before the battle, and Alex knows in advance that she is probably not going to be helpful. For one, there's magic everywhere, and for two, she's bloody exhausted. She has contented herself, instead, to sitting with one of the bears (bears, guys!!!), back leaning against the big beast as she slowly wraps up bundles of bandages.

She happens to look up, and recognise one of her fellow rifters. Guy who said he wasn't human, back home, though his name evades her for a second - tiredness, she figures. "Hey," she calls out. "How you holdin' up?"


WILDCARD.
Whatever, wherever, I want to thread together.

IIIc

[gatheringstorm]

"No." A large hand reaches out and gently but firmly wraps around Alex's hand, pulling it away. It belongs to a tall -easily a head taller than most humans- woman with horns that curl like a ram's, clad in armor and with a staff strapped to her back. She shakes her head, expression grave.

"That's red lyrium. It's toxic just to be around, let alone touch. If you're cold, I can make fire...away from that."

[periastron]

Oh, Jesus Christ. It's not the horns that illicit her eyebrows raising, she had a chance to get a bit more used to people with horns and pointed ears hanging out with Alacruun and Iorveth for a week, but everyone here seems so fucking tall. She's a couple inches over five feet, certainly on the shorter side for a human, and everyone around these parts seems to be determined to reach Amazonian proportions.

Okay, that's an exaggeration, but Alex looks faintly bemused.

"I've had a real week, mate, honestly toxicity barely concerns me right now." Flippantly said, and not entirely true, though her Australian accent adds a certain dramatic emphasis and dragging out of the words. She has had a week (magic??? demons???), but that doesn't mean she wants to cuddle up to some uranium or similar bullshit. "More curious than cold, specifically. I mean, I am cold." But more curious.

[gatheringstorm]

She shakes her head, rather no-nonsense when it comes to red lyrium. 'Flippant' is fine, once the threat is over. So she slips the staff off her back and gestures for her to stand back before taking aim.

"We're supposed to destroy that shit on sight unless the red lyrium project needs it for study, so. I'll answer all the questions you like on it, but please do yourself a favor and stand back. I don't envy the week you must've had, but you still don't want any shards touching you."

[periastron]

Alex sits back on her heels, eyebrow raised. "You lot are real bloody bossy, you know that?"

She rolls her eyes, but does step back, leaning against a handy wooden pole with her shoulder to watch.

[gatheringstorm]

That gets a smirk from her just before she fires. "Yep, so I've heard."

Impatient to finish this, she fires a bolt of lightning from her staff, and then another and another. That effectively blasts apart the cluster of red lyrium, and she lowers her staff, glancing over. "Don't worry, unless it's life or death I prefer to life and let live. You want real bossiness? Go to the healer's tents. They're great at what they do but Andraste's ass, do they smother."

IIIa

[iceblade]

A tall red-headed woman, covered in furs and tattoos, watches the interaction from nearby. Perhaps others would display alarm or caution but she simply grins and strides over, eyes on the bear and its reactions above all.

"Magnificent, aren't they? You have those where you're from, I take it? You seem familiar enough with them."

[periastron]

"We got polar bears in my world, not where I'm from specifically. Not except in zoos and stuff."

She is looking around the harness, more focused on the bear and making sure its comfortable and that the leather hasn't rubbed it than the person speaking - she might sound a little distracted, as she seeks out the buckles to undo them and let her get a better look.

"I'm just an animal person, I guess."

[iceblade]

"Aye, same. I'm the Inquisition's stablemaster; we have a good variety, but bears aren't a part of it." She doesn't seem to mind the distraction, peering as the buckles are undone. "It doesn't seem on too tight, but a break from it can't hurt."

Shifting her gaze to the polar bear, she smiles. "Oh, but you are a beauty. It's too bad we're so far from my people's lands. If you wished to be a hold-beast, they'd treat you well."

[periastron]

"Tightness ain't always the problem," she says absent, checking the skin. "Get a bit of dirt under there or it sitting awkwardly on an area what doesn't have a lot of fat and padding, sores can still happen. These guys are probably less delicate than horses that way, but—"

But I'd rather not take the risk.

The polar bear is compliant enough, and she is slowly checking the areas the harness sat, gently lifting up the pears arm so she can check its belly. "Being able to do this with a bear is bloody surreal. Pretty sure that bears aren't usually big fans of human interference in any shape." Speaking of, "what's a hold beast?"

[iceblade]

She nods, agreeing with the other possible dangers since she's dealt with those in her time. Since the bear doesn't seem to mind her presence, she helps distract it with some dried meat from her pouch.

"Each Avvar hold also has a "hold-beast" that ties the clan to the gods. This animal is treated as kin to the clan. Mind you, it's no pet as lowlanders would define it; the hold-beast is independent and lives as it chooses. The clan may even offer it gifts of food, but not enough that it would not hunt for itself. When a hold-beast is strong and happy, there is joy. When it sickens and dies, it is an ill omen."

iii c;

[arcaneadvisor]

So far while she has been here, beyond the Korcari Wilds where her girlhood and more was spent, this unmapped place at the edge of the world, Morrigan has been a wolf with a thick fur of her own against the cold, keener senses than that of a human woman until she spotted a woman by the red lyrium.

The words were odd, enough to put her in mind of other things she had heard rifters say who didn't all speak so uniformly but the unfamiliarity of their phrasing belonged to them and so it was with that she pads closer. And closer. Until she spies the woman reaching for a stick.

Then there is a woman where there was a golden-eyed black wolf watching, a woman with a staff that cold curls at one end, the end planted before the lyrium.

"I would advise against that, if I were you, lest you enjoy the path of madness and agony."

[periastron]

"Madness and agony?" Alex muses on that, for a second, and shrugs.

"Sounds like most of my relationships, honestly. Will the dangerous crystals buy me dinner?"

[arcaneadvisor]

"The dangerous crystals are red lyrium," Morrigan would give them their name so it's out there; there's power in a name. "And those who take red lyrium risk becoming infected by it. Lyrium itself is enough to make a person witless. If that is what you desire then by all means, indulge in such foolishness."

Her staff has a wicked blade at one end, a smooth semi-circle of metal. Nothing threatening in Morrigan yet but she's seen enough Red Templars to not want others to make themselves into them.

[periastron]

"Red lyrium." She looks at the crystals, eyebrows raised. The scientist and the impulsive idiot in her remains very curious.

"I mean, infection, witless and foolishness still sound very in keeping with love and romance, if you ask me."

She didn't, of course, but Alex is not one to be reasonable at all times. Still - she looks at the stick she's holding, and to the staff the other woman is holding, and tosses her sad little stick to the side. "Don't match up to yours real good, does it?"

[arcaneadvisor]

"Were that the case, we might all rest easier however i am fortunate enough to never have been afflicted with either." So she says, with her hood tipped in feathers pulled up against the snow, all furs, teeth, strange bone fastenings to look every inch the Witch of the Wilds this woman would never have heard of at all. "Perhaps it won't be so long until we see folk with flesh made and sprouting this, they tend to be close by it."

Encouraging Morrigan, you're doing great.

Her laugh isn't unkind but the wind swallows most of it anyway. "This is Yavanalis, 'tis old enough that there is a tale to be carried with it but you are new enough I know not what you would understand. Come, you may call me Morrigan."

b

[motherfucking_ghost]

"...How are you doing that?"

Church is keeping a fair enough distance from the bear, because bear. "You're treating it like a puppy. But it's a bear. A polar bear. A Thedosian polar bear. God, of course there'd fucking be fucking bears down here, too. You can't escape bears anywhere on this god-forsaken world except at sea, and even then, I bet they've got, like, sea bears, too."

[periastron]

"Well, I'm real good with animals, but I don't reckon I'd be able to with most," she replies, continuing her work without looking up. "These guys are real tame, and I have to bribe him with pieces of jerky here and there."

She does, however, smile at one thing. "I'd love to see a sea bear. That'd be bloody fantastic."

[motherfucking_ghost]

"Least it's not a bugbear." Nerd. "You like Dr. Doolittle, or you just like, zookeeper or something?" He's taking a chance on her being more modern, but he figures it's...a fair enough assumption.

[periastron]

"In the hobgoblin or crankiness sense?"

Alex quirks a brow, and finally looks over at the stranger. "Veterinarian. I wish I could talk to animals. Closest I could get is Eliza Doolittle, someone'll probably think I sound like a fuckin' mongrel and decide to pull a pygmalion on me."

IIIc

[unshadowing]

Before he can reach for that stick, there's a hand on top of it. Not to take it for itself, but to stop her. Carver has no idea what she was going on about before - rifters are an odd lot, so who can say? - but he's not about to let her curiosity run off. Not in this instance.

"Don't," he says. "We need to get out of this tent. You don't want to be around this stuff for long."

[periastron]

"Not sure if it's really dangerous, or if this is some sort of amazing treasure and you're running a con on a new person who doesn't know any better so I stay away from it and you can run off with the goods."

She abandons the stick reach, and looks up at tall, dark and dramatic. "If you insist, Manly McOrders."

[unshadowing]

And this one's got a mouth on her. And a weird accent to boot. Great, just great.

"You want to stick around, you go ahead. I'll be sure to put you out of your misery once the paranoia and insanity take hold." He gestures his head to outside, where the rest of the Inquisition is. "See if anyone else is taking this stuff and running off with it, if you're so concerned."

[periastron]

"I'll resist the temptation," she replies dryly. She moves with a sort of swaying swagger, someone who is entirely too comfortable in her own space.

"What's your name? Unless I nailed it in one go."

[barded]

( Chance has always been a bit of a city boy, and despite his travels since leaving home in his teens. Still, coming so close to rather large animals is an uncommon occurrence for him. Usually those animals he has come close to were trying to kill him with no doubts of their intent. These bears seem okay, but he can't stop staring in a way that's both mystified and slightly nervous things could go south very fast.

Then again, what's a bear to the demons they've been dealing with lately?

He shakes himself free of his staring when Alex catches him, nearly flushing as charms on his horns tingle slightly.

He takes a deep breath and leans back against the log he's been propped against. He pulls his knees up, lute sliding into the snow slightly with the shift of his lap, and gives a non-committal shrug. )

I wouldn't say this is the worst thing ever to happen to me, but it's probably the strangest thing.

( He's not sure, but he's fairly certain he remembers the woman talking about a lack of magic in her world before. ) What about you? ( He tilts his head curiously. ) How is all this sitting with you?