Fade Rift Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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faderift2018-03-15 11:48 pm
faderifting) wrote in faderift2018-03-15 11:48 pm
Entry tags:
- ! open,
- kostos averesch,
- { adalia },
- { alacruun },
- { alexandra karahalios },
- { anders },
- { araceli bonaventura },
- { arohaerd },
- { audra hawthorne },
- { beleth ashara },
- { bronach },
- { christine delacroix },
- { dolores abernathy },
- { ellana ashara },
- { gareth },
- { helena },
- { herian amsel },
- { inessa serra },
- { iorveth },
- { korrin ataash },
- { kylo ren },
- { leonard church },
- { loghain mac tir },
- { maedhros },
- { marisol vivas },
- { mel"sparkleprincess"ys },
- { morrigan },
- { nari dahlasanor },
- { newt scamander },
- { rey },
- { sarah manning },
- { six },
- { skadi iceblade },
- { thor },
- { yngvi }
OPEN ↠ HEART LIKE ICE
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.
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.
Carver Hawke
As a Fereldan, the cold hardly bothers Carver so much. Granted, it's a bit chillier than even he's used to. Just a heavier coat and some gloves, and he's good.
He feels it in the air, the way it suddenly grows heavy. He looks to the west, and his stomach drops at the forming dark clouds. That looks... bad. Really bad. "Quick. We need to get to cover."
There's barely enough time to grab the gear and find a suitable cave for shelter. The wind picks up within minutes, and Carver's cheeks sting from the biting cold. By the time they're situated inside, his hair's a disaster and even he's shivering a bit as he struggles to get a fire started.
Glancing outside, he scowls. "We might be here for awhile."
III. The Village
The sight of the abandoned camp stirs up unease. There's too much left behind for it to have been intentional. Naturally he starts looking for tracks, but it's half-hearted. The snow buried them days ago. At least he can cross that off before moving to the village proper.
He frowns. No signs of an attack, seemingly: no blood, no bodies, and little if any destruction. It's peculiar, to say the least. Until he walks into a tent, and sees something red glowing below one of the furs left behind.
Immediately his expression hardens. He knows that glow. Not wanting to touch it, he grabs a discarded hunting spear and lifts up the blanket with the tip. "Shit," he growls at the sight of the lyrium. "If they were around this long enough... the best thing we can hope for is to find these people and put them out of their misery."
IV. The Battle
Of course he's in the thick of it. Where else would Carver be?
A) For the most part, he's taking on the bigger guys and keeping them off the squishier people. Especially the mages, seeing as they're surrounded by templars. He swings and throws himself at the templars, knocking them off balance to give the mages a reprieve. Despite the templars' monstrous appearance, he remembers they used to be people once. "Have we ever met a templar who isn't a colossal prig?" he once jokingly asked Marian. The words haunt him in a strange way here. He does his best to make the deaths quick, if they allow it.
His sword connects with a templar's side, sending them to the ground with a heavy slam. "I got this one. Do what you need to!"
B) Now, the behemoths, on the other hand... they're a little rougher. They roar in rage, swinging at him as Carver rolls out of the way of their attacks. He strikes at whatever bit of flesh he sees, but they're almost entirely lyrium. It's nightmarish, to say the least.
The behemoth slams his (its?) hand into the ground. Everything shakes for a moment before red lyrium bursts through the soil, narrowly missing Carver. The impact still knocks him to the ground, leaving him to scramble out of the way of the behemoth's fist.
III
She has no idea what the Red Lyrium is - why would she? - but the overall reaction to it is so negative that she's wary and distant. Carver's growls catch her attention and she moves forward, adjusting the strap of her greatsword before she frowns, considering how best to approach a topic without seeming like a complete idiot.
"It's magical." That's one way to start. "What happens if you are around this for too long? What are the consequences?" She needs to know, to be prepared for whatever they're going to be fighting next, especially with her powers ripped from her from coming through the Rift.
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"There are people here who take something that they know is addictive and damages their bodies?"
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2
She follows Carver to the shelter, doing what she can magically with barriers to keep the worst of the wind at bay, though once they're inside the cave her hair isn't much better off than his.
Rubbing her hands together she walks to where Carver is attempting to start a fire, picking up her staff and shaking her shoulders out.
"Here, let me do that."
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