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

[strangel]

And there Iorveth goes, hitting the nail on the head. Helena tenses, visibly, craning her neck to look at him, holding herself at unnatural seeming angles. Her eyes are wide, innocent and horrified and searching, all in the same moment.

"You think I put my sestra in danger."

Accusing, assessing.

[aenseidhe]

"I don't think you mean to." He starts, because he's not trying to piss her off. Clearly Helena cares pretty much solely about her sister and her safety here, that isn't under question. What is is the matter of incident and reaction. They don't know the level of patience these people have, and given his experience with groups like these in the past, they're altruistic only as far as it doesn't harm their organization and their goals. "But it will be an unfortunate consequence if you piss these people off anymore."

Why keep dragging a dangerous hostage along in an already hostile environment? Not knowing about the value the Inquisition has for Rifters yet, Iorveth would expect them to simply ditch the girl if she's costing them too much. After all, it's what he'd do, were it him and some stranger he'd picked up on the road.

"I doubt she's any more willing to leave you behind than you are her." Meaning, if Helena is booted from the party, Sarah likely will go with her, whether Helena wishes it or not.

[strangel]

Helena's expression twists unhappily at that, and she looks away. Sarah had promised the chains would only be temporary, that they'd figure some way out, but Sarah could not control everything, and Helena was the escape artist of the two of them. Still, even when they had not been so close as they are now, Sarah came to rescue her.

(The thought casually glosses over some of the more terrible things they've done to each other in their short acquaintance, but all sisters fought. Theirs were just a little more... intense.)

"So I should be behaving to keep Sarah safe." She grits her teeth together, shoulders hunching a little mutinously, like a child who has realised that there is now no possible escape from doing the dishes.

Abruptly, "everyone is too ready to trustings the strangers in their big group."

[aenseidhe]

"There's a difference between trusting and using." Iorveth tells her, voice still low so as not to be overheard. The elf could count the people he truly trusts on a single hand, but there's plenty he associates with for their uses. They don't live in a vacuum.

"We need them to navigate us out of this terrain. Once we hit forestland, or anything less deadly than this place, we can go wherever we like."

Iorveth, for his part, intends to at least follow them to this Inquisition they're talking about, as that's been their only clue of what's going on here and what to do about it. He needs more information before he starts telling people to fuck right off into hell.

But Helena is by no means bound to do the same. All she need do is insure her and Sarah live through the end of this arctic zone.

[strangel]

Her eyes narrow a little as she thinks that over, eyeing Iorveth down critically. The words make sense. Of course, she has been used many times, used and not trusted, used and not valued. It is different with Sarah, now.

"Should I trust your words?"

[aenseidhe]

Iorveth smirks, a short snort like a laugh let out at the comment. Not an unfair suspicion either, and to some in this group, he's certainly playing nice just for the sake of playing nice and keeping himself out of being a target. Helena, well, he's really not sure yet. But he likes her alive better.

"My answer to that would hardly help you." Considering, if he wants her trust, of course he's going to say 'yes'. But that doesn't at all reflect how he plans on using it, or what his intentions on giving her advice are. Shit out of luck, Helena. "You have to decide that for yourself."