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

[sorcerised]

[ Iessa, of course, reacts with excited delight when she hears her own tongue. She flaps up into the air and dips forward to nose at the elf's hand. Meanwhile, the man beside her turns as well. He's not as shocked as he had been when Alacruun had used draconic, but it's still a surprise. A welcome one. There are more people here from his world than he'd known. He steps forward, also speaking draconic. ]

Hello, my Lady. She's hungry no longer, though still quite cold. Her name is Iessa.

[ Iessa flutters her wings in confirmation, before landing heavily at the elf's feet. She looks up, eyes bright and eager. It makes Aro laugh. Seeing Iessa happy raises his own mood tenfold. ]

Mine is Aro. I'm glad to see you aren't afraid of dragons.

[ Privately, though, he wonders if she'll be as pleased to see a half-elf. He's not often been welcome among her kind, and the knowledge of it gives his shoulders a kind of hunched wariness. ]

[thunderproof]

❰ it helps that adalia is only slightly more elf than him — despite her ears, adalia is just a half-elf herself, and there's no sense of distatste on her end when she looks up from the dragon to finally focus on the man addressing her. she just smiles brightly before dropping to her knees, careless of the snow and cold, in order to be more of a level with iessa. ❱

Hello, Iessa! What a sweet girl you are, I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance.

❰ while this has all been said in draconic, she switches back to common when she looks back up at the half-elf. ❱

And yours as well, of course. My name is Adalia, and I can't even —

❰ a sort of disbelieving, delighted laugh, as adalia turns back to iessa, reaching to scritch under her chin. ❱

I can't tell you how happy I am to meet you. Or Iessa. I'm not afraid of dragons at all, I have one of my own. I thought bringing him here wouldn't be safe, but now I'm kicking myself for it, he's never met another dragon like him.

[sorcerised]

[ Oh, well, now she absolutely has his attention. It wouldn't matter if she were a full blooded Elf who couldn't bear any hint of a half-elf in her presence. She has a dragon, and that means he wants everything to do with her. He steps forward, eager, while Iessa preens under all the attention. She's still young enough to enjoy being petted. At least, Aro hopes that's what's behind it. ]

You have another dragon? Iessa's never met another one either! Her mother passed on before she was born, and she's just had me ever since. Do you think she might be able to meet your boy?

[ It would be good for both of them, surely. Aro has instinctively moved closer, his eyes bright and interested. Like Adalia, he moves easily between Draconic and the Common Tongue, hesitating with neither, but clearly enunciating his Draconic for Iessa's benefit. ]

Can he speak?

[thunderproof]

❰ it is so beyond wonderful to meet someone who shares her enthusiasm for dragons — kain is lovely, and myr is wonderful to charis, but this is... different, somehow, more. aro understands, he sees how wonderful these creatures are, and how important, and he must then also understand how difficult it is to feel equal to the task of raising them, especially alone. but they're not alone now, neither of them, and adalia is so excited to get back to kirkwall she can hardly stand it. ❱

Of course she can meet Charis! I'd love for them to get to know each other, I think having other draconic company could only be good for both of them. Charis is a silver dragon — is Iessa... bronze? She can't be chromatic, she's too nice for that...

❰ which, of course, is easy to say when adalia's only interacted with her for these few seconds, maybe she's actually a brat and adalia just hasn't seen it. she doesn't think so, though.

she makes the transition back to draconic as smoothly as aro does, though her tone is markedly less enthusiastic now. ❱

No, he doesn't. He... sort of chitters, kind of like a cat? And he understands me perfectly well, especially when I speak Draconic. But I think something happened when he came through the rift with me... He hadn't hatched yet, so maybe it was that, I don't know, but he doesn't speak.

[sorcerised]

[ Her enthusiasm is infectious. It seems too good to be true that he might meet another in the same position as himself, someone trying to raise a dragon by themselves. That's quite incredible, and quite an astonishing coincidence that they'd both come here. Aro might find time to be paranoid about that later. For now, he lets the moment catch him up. ]

Yes, she's bronze! Or she will be, I suppose. She's only new. I think she'll grow into the bronze.

[ He can see hints of it in her scales when he looks close, parts where there's a greenish tint to the yellow and makes it look more complex. She'll be beautiful when it develops, he thinks, just like her mother. Although, she's beautiful now. He catches himself smiling at the way she snuffles around Adalia, before rearing up on her hind legs to get a closer look. With anyone else, Aro might have warned Iessa to get down. Adalia seems to know what she's doing, though. He doesn't think she'll be scared.

Her next comment somewhat dampens the mood, though in fairness, not by very much. ]

She hatched before we came here, but not by very long. She hadn't yet begun to speak, but I know she understands me. Do you think...that Charis won't speak? How long have you been here?

[thunderproof]

Charis is the same, he's not quite silver yet, but he will be. At the moment he's a sort of... blue-grey. The metallic hints come through in the right light.

❰ iessa is definitely beautiful — as she rears up on her hind legs, adalia laughs, leaning in so that iessa can inspect her more easily. she's not at all worried about being bitten or clawed — if that happens, it'll only be because she was being a moron, so she'll deserve it. ❱

We've been here for... four months now? Five? Since the middle of Firstfall. He hasn't spoken in all that time, and I don't think he's likely to.

❰ which is difficult to accept, when adalia knows what charis should be, but — if the locals can barely handle him like this, how could they possibly handle a sapient dragon? they'd be even more afraid of him if he were talking and casting spells, terrible as it is to think. this might be better for him, in the end. ❱

[sorcerised]

[ Aro's frown deepens. If coming here has done something similar to Iessa, he doesn't know how he'll forgive himself. It doesn't matter that he didn't choose to come; it still seems true that she wouldn't be here if she hadn't been with him.

Noticing his unease, she drops back down and comes to nudge against him, letting out a low, worried growl. He touches her head. ]

I have to get her home. We must get both of them home, where they can learn properly.

What about healers? Are there none here skilled enough to look at Charis? Maybe they could tell you if there's something wrong.