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

"Very different from what I'm used to," Alacruun replies with a smile that's almost cheerful. He seems to be considering her words, turning them over and over in his head as he tries to think of how to translate all of this into something worthwhile for himself. How to make this new system work - and perhaps how to break it, if given the chance.

"Where I'm from, magic is simply part and parcel of the world - woven into its very fabric - and manipulating it doesn't necessarily involve tapping into some parallel world or plane. It's... an interesting difference. I'll have to look into it when I have more time."

That smile provokes a raised eyebrow from Korrin; most of the responses she gets to explaining about mages and demons range from unnerved to outright horrified, not...that. He's so new that it probably hasn't sunk in for him, but still. She doesn't quite know what to make of that.

"Plenty of mages around are eager to compare magic from across worlds, so there's that. But I wouldn't expect anything from demons themselves but more bullshit and possession attempts. Absolutely everything they say and do is geared towards that, but knowing it helps avoid those pitfalls."

"Possession - taking over a mage's body? Or anyone's? Is that common here? How wary should I be when I encounter one of these creatures? Can they take my body by force or do I have to allow them entrance?"

He's a bit concerned by the idea, but he wants an idea of the limits to it and how he ought to approach this world and its threats.

"A mage's, though they'll take a corpse sometimes. That's why Andrastians tend to burn their dead instead of bury them." A practice with which she heartily agrees, for all the faults she finds in the Chantry. "Usually, you have to agree to it...but the more powerful ones are pretty smart, and not to be underestimated. If they can trick or blackmail you into it, then they will. And the most powerful ones...well, I wouldn't completely rule out forceful possession, either. It's just best to stay on your toes around them."

"Corpse-burning has a certain commonality, I see. Some cultures practice it where I'm from as well, although it's not typically to prevent possession by... demons," Alacruun pauses. He doesn't mention that part of it is because of undead, but whatever. That's not that relevant here, right? Right. What they don't know won't hurt them.

Until he wants it to.

"I've dealt with... well. Not demons in that sense, but those with silver tongues. I'll be on my guard. Thank you for the warning, all the same..."

"You're welcome. It's only fair to warn you about how fucked up Thedas can be when you were forced here, after all. Sometime when you're less overwhelmed, you can tell me about the pitfalls of your own world." Korrin doesn't know if such information will ever become relevant, but why not learn?

"I'll do my best. Maybe I should start keeping track of all of the differences..." Alacruun muses aloud.

"Do you think someone would be interested in reading that?"

"Sure. There are plenty of people here interested in rifters and where they come from, and plenty of mage nerds interested in comparing magic. And...." Korrin stares off, lips thinning. She doesn't like telling this part, but he'll find out anyway. "...the general public is still highly wary of rifters in general. Many of them think you all demons in disguise, nevermind that us mages know better. Some will never get out of that mindset, but it's possible that others might be open to learning more. Better to give them something to consider than let ignorance fester. Our history is littered with incidents about the latter, and the violence that results.

That's not to say the Inquisition will just stand and let that shit happen, though. We need anchor-bearers to help seal rifts, and in return, we defend and support those who help us."

"Maybe I'll write a book, then. Just for the entertainment value of it," Alacruun muses with a slightly amused grin on his face. It would keep him busy, at least. Then again, how much does he really want to tell everyone here about his world and his life before his arrival here? The answer, as it turns out, is not much. So maybe he'll have to shelve that idea - at least for the moment.

"Well..." He pauses, as if thinking, "I suppose helping you is my only option if I want to figure out how to return home - or survive in this world. At least in the short-term. It's not much of a choice, is it?"

Korrin nods, sympathetic but unable to change the circumstances. "We don't force anyone to work for us...but your anchor will keep you in the same general area, and you're otherwise probably not going to have much else to do, since most natives aren't likely to hire rifters. If it was me, I'd probably go stir-crazy after a while without something productive to do."

"Trust me, I've had quite enough of sitting around with nothing to do. Exploring this world and working towards a solution is in my best interests - and it will keep me occupied."

Alacruun is self-interested, if nothing else. However, that's his primary interest. Possibly his only one.

"Wait - the anchor actually, ah, anchors us to a location?"

"Well-not a location so much as other anchor-bearers, I think? If you just head off on your own, the anchor will begin to hurt. As far as I'm aware, it increases the longer you're away and the farther you go. Returning to Skyhold or the Gallows -where we're stationed and where there are the most rifters- will end the pain. As I understand it, traveling with a group of other anchor bearers will slow that process and sealing rifts provides some relief, but the end result is still the same. We still don't know why that is, to be honest."

"Well, pain is a powerful motivator. Or can be, anyway. Probably is, in this case, because I have no wish to end up crippled with pain because I wandered too far. No, I get the point... I'll stay. Better than then to be found helpless elsewhere and put out of my misery by some overzealous farmer..."

And wouldn't that be a humiliating end for him.

OPEN ↠ HEART LIKE ICE

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