( closed ) PLAYER PLOT: STILL WATERS

[dashing]

WHO: Alistair, Herian, Myr, Nell, Prompto, Saoirse, Wren.
WHAT: ( Plot post ) Shady rumours concerning the Tranquil lead to a remote Circle in the Northern Anderfels. Its relative isolation from the rest of Thedas has prevented news from reaching the Inquisition sooner. Our crack team investigates.
WHEN: forward dated, around 21st-ish Cloudreach
WHERE: Salzklippe, the Anderfels.
NOTES: Content Warning for violence, murder, and other grim Dragon Age things. The grief demon threads in particular include themes of death, suicide, and gore. Please add additional warnings to subject lines where necessary.

— Making the approach (group thread) — Into the catacombs (individual starters) — Discovering the lake (group thread) — Into the tower (individual starters) — Bossfight (multiple group-ish) — Later Stuff (individual starters) FOR GROUP THREADS: in order to keep threads moving, I will be aiming to do a GM tag once every 24 hours. Don't worry about a strict tagging order, but please don't tag more than three times every 24 hours, just to make sure no one gets left behind.

Comments

[galvanising]

Nell has come prepared--her last visit to the Anderfels only some weeks past, no need to go digging up deeper memories even if this wind has suddenly uncovered long-lost traces--and as the storm howled nearer has wound her scarf around her head, covering nose and mouth and providing at least some shield for her eyes.

She's avoided Wren's grab and shove and moved up the hill past the Templar on her own, leading with a shoulder and a hand cupped over her eyes, none spared to help. Herian's coming anyway. Nell passes her as well on the way, and lingers only a moment behind the boulders before making for the cave mouth. She steps into Myr's bubble of calm, and requires only a moment to squint at the rubble blocking their path.

This brief respite from the sand provides none from the noise, so it's with a hand on Myr's shoulder that she directs him to back up. Even over the wind, they'll hear the crash that follows, as Nell lifts that stag's head (or whatever) into the air and, with a thrust of her staff, sends it crashing through the barrier, no concern spared for whatever might be behind it.

gently GMs

[dashing]

The sound of the sculpture, whatever it might have been, ripping away from the mountainside is almost swallowed by the oncoming storm. The wind seems to become more ferocious, more frenzied, with each moment, sheets of sand being whipped from the terrain to render any exposed skin raw. Those inside the barrier fare a little better, but the storm's fury is escalating quickly.

As Nell drives her staff forward, the rocks, held stubbornly in place for many years, long enough for this entranceway to be forgotten, crash inward. Not all are cleared - one particularly stubborn, giant boulder (more like a slice of mountainside than a boulder, truthfully) remains closer to the cave mouth - but Nell has successfully cleared away most of them, allowing more than enough space for three or so people at a time to move through the cave's mouth.