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

iv

[swordproof]

[ Six, at least, is no stranger to the power of a simple amulet - but she is a stranger to the work of magic and mages. Her own experiences have been limited to what she's seen here, so she has no reason to imagine he is any more or any less powerful than what she has witnessed up to this point. All she knows is that a mage is powerful at range but less shielded up close, which means he needs someone with armour and a sword to make sure nothing overruns him and takes his life from him.

It's not the first time that she's done it this week, and she has a strange feeling that it'll not be the last, either.

Darting forward, Six draws her blade and cuts down one of the Templars, her greatsword cleaving through it's armour and forcing it to stumble back. Only then does she shift, stepping around and moving closer to Gareth, nodding her head to him. ]

What range do you need?

[foundmyselfagain]

[ In truth, Gareth is not entirely accustomed to having meatshields there to protect him. There had certainly been none after Kirkwall, and he’d only dealt with a few of the mercenaries hired by rebel mages. By and large, he’d relied on groups of mages armed with barriers and mind blast to keep each other safe.

However, he’s certainly not going to complain about someone volunteering. Six’s nod is returned, and Gareth raises his eyebrows as he watches her swing that massive sword around. The thing probably weighs as much as he does, how do people just wave it around willy nilly? ]

Just keep those with swords far enough back that they can’t use them on me. I can take care of archers.

[ There’s no shortage of foes for Six, at least. And she’ll be treated to the oddity of most of the Templars continuing to focus on Gareth, unless she’s directly engaging them. At least she won’t be getting flanked. ]

[swordproof]

[ Neither of them are entirely used to working with one another, but Six is quick to adapt - and a fight is a fight, no matter what. She moves forward without pause, her sword in her hand and her attention focussed on the world in front of her; there's an intensity there that she can't hide, something dark and dangerous that colours the movements of her body. It's clear that she's very good at what she does.

Still, she can't ignore the fact that she's actively defending someone now. Rather than focussing on knocking the strange things back she instead keeps an eye on where Gareth is and goes for those that appear to be heading in his direction, cutting them down in quick, efficient movements. ]

As you say. Tell me if you need more aid.

[ Whichever enemies focus on him get her attention time and time again, her body slamming into them before she cleaves them with her greatsword. There's no hesitation and, really, it doesn't seem like she's slowing down. ]

[foundmyselfagain]

[ There's something worrying about someone who's so good at killing with a sword, who's so comfortable with it--but that's hypocritical, isn't it? After all, is he any different, with magic? She's clearly not a Templar, after all. Certainly, not with the way that she mows down the red ones. ]

Thank you. Let me know if you do, too--uh. I'm not much good at support, but I have a few spells. If you don't mind not moving, I can do a force field?

[ Forget not being used to having a meat shield, he's entirely out of his field at trying to give support to one. He's no healer, and he only has a handful of spirit spells that can help out. ]

[swordproof]

[ Years of training have honed her skills and she's aware that it shows - the sword isn't quite as heavy as it looks, but Six is clearly used to using it and swinging it despite the heft of it and the pressure it puts on her muscles. She wouldn't be very good at what she did if she wasn't well versed in how to use her blade and that's what she keeps in mind. ]

If you think it will be useful. [ She doesn't intend to abandon him to his fate, at least. ] Focus on yourself foremost. I can keep them away from us for some time.

[ It's not that she thinks he's helpless, particularly; it's more that she's more accustomed and comfortable with making sure other people are kept out of danger than she is blindly attacking. ]