faderift | 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.

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Malcolm's keeping mostly to his bow this time--distance from the lyrium is better, and they've enough warriors and fighters of the sword.

There's a Templar nearby to the giant, perhaps giving it orders, perhaps merely in the way. Malcolm takes aim, but then ducks out of the way when one of the bears gallops by, and dear Maker, what is Kain doing?

He retakes aim, pelting the Templar twice, thrice, bowling her over as if struck with the fist of the Maker. It's enough to give Kain a little more breathing room, although he scrambles to a new spot to take aim at the giant. To try and distract its attention with a few well-placed arrows. Best not to get caught between a giant and a behemoth...place, right?

If he can ride dracolisks and griffons, surely a bear is no big deal… right? Maybe? For a moment, Kain is just trying to hold on, clutching to the bear as if his life depends on it, while he finds better seating. It takes a couple of moments, to truly right himself, so he’s grateful for some help from one of his allies here. It buys him just the time he needs to get ready. Looks like Malcolm has the behemoth covered for the time being, so he’ll focus his efforts on that giant. When he’s set, he holds his sword high, as together he and the bear charge in toward the giant. He slashes at its massive legs, letting the bear do its thing and take a swipe at it, before they go running out of the giant’s reach.

"You're insane!" he calls over the fighting, and bear-mauling.

It may not exactly come across as an admonishment, for once. After all, it is working.

The behemoth is a bit messier for him to deal with. After all, at least half of its body is more or less red lyrium jutting out. Several arrows don't stick the landing, although a few cracks are beginning to show in the rocky armor from where they've glanced off. Worst comes to it, he can light it up like a giant bonfire--it would just leave him tired and wide open for attack.

No, best to redirect the aim at the feet. An arrow finds its altered course soundly, puncturing armor, into the foot, into the ground. It won't be enough to keep the damned thing pinned for long, but it's an opening for the bigger melee guns of Kain And Bear to take advantage of. "Switch!"

It's certainly not the first time he's been called that... and undoubtedly, it won't be the last. Kain just nods agreement at this point, as he and the bear continue hacking away at those legs... but soon enough, their target is on the move again, undoubtedly preparing another counterattack.

"Right! Got it!" Kain shifts his attention now toward that behemoth, with that ugly array of red lyrium covering its body. He shouts a command to the bear, giving some guidance the way he would any other mount... and it seems to still be working, at the moment. Perfect. They come in with a heavy dual strike at the behemoth. Crystalline bits of lyrium fly everywhere as they hit it.

If it wasn't for the fact that they're currently in a red lyrium mine, he might have called to take more care. It'll all be burned to the ground in due time anyway.

He lobs a few arrows at the beast, some merely batted away, but he sprints across the snow and rocks. The giant is distracted, but still seems focused on Kain and his mount. Needs more distraction. He slides and nearly falls deeper into the mine, but with the new angle of attack comes new opportunity, and he quietly says a prayer as he lines up the shot.

It misses, glancing off one of the hideous tusk protrusion by its mouth.

He quickly does the same, readies up another, adjusts--and lets fly an arrow straight from the Maker's fist into its left eye.

That's certainly a distraction.

That's one good thing about their location: they don't have to hold back or worry about any damage. The focus is on destruction alone. Kain can just let loose with his reaver-style of fighting, heedless of what happens. More or less. He's still taking on the behemoth, letting it get a hit on him even, with a mighty swing of its clawed arm, that nearly knocks him off the bear… But, of course, that's exactly as planned, as he channels that ache and pain into something else, something more. He feels himself getting stronger as he takes another swing. The bear rears back then, tearing at their opponent with its massive claws.

He takes a quick glance every so often to take note of the giant's position… but so far, so good. They're making progress now.

He worries, of course, about Kain, but it seems the man is one of those types that revels in pain, that takes a blow and gives it back double. Malcolm's not fragile, but he's smaller, lighter on his feet, sees a tactical advantage and takes it, rather than raining down blow after blow of strength and brutality.

The giant roars in pain, its massive hands coming up to its face, clawing at the offensive arrow, small in comparison to the rest of it. Half blinded, it means he can close the gap, to unsheathe his dagger and slice across the damned things left leg as it staggers. It's not the same effect as it would be a greatsword hacking a tendon, but he's creating weakness to follow up on. He nearly gets crushed underfoot, more than once, diving out of the way and taking up his bow again, on the right side, where it can see him. See more of him and less of Kain. Creating opportunity. That's what he does best.

Kain continues slashing his two-handed sword steadily at that behemoth, watching as his blows do more damage with the more damage he's taken on, himself. By riding the bear around, he's also got a swift way to avoid taking too many hits... he doesn't want to overdo it, after all.

The behemoth isn't going down too easily, though. It slams downward after sprinkling lyrium into the ground, causing it to burst up all around the nearby area. "Look out!" Kain barely misses being struck by it himself, as he urges the bear to launch itself right at their opponent. They leap into the air, barreling right into the behemoth, knocking it roughly to the ground.

OPEN ↠ HEART LIKE ICE

battle

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject