( 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

[limier]

"Let us not discount the Rifted," Get it, because Prompto's a demon and also fucking harmless. She gestures for everyone to climb in, presses a hand to Myr's shoulder to guide. And because she doesn't particularly trust ancient obscure enchantments: "Can any among us not swim?"

Looking at you, Circle mages. Well. Looking at Nell, mostly, with an expression still a little too sand-clogged to properly convey the distant thought of murder.

As there are those among us who cannot read.

[crowncitizen]

Wow. Darn it Wren, he thought you were cool!

"Heeeeeeey." So Prompto says as he's halfway getting into the boat. Excuse you, he's far too cute to get tossed overboard (also he can't seem much please don't toss him overboard.)

[sulena]

"Luckily Starkhaven's alienage was built along the river's edge." Not the good side of the river either. Still, she let's her gaze linger on the boat for a moment longer. How overly complicated. "Herian always had the best doggy paddle among the other children. Though unfortunately I haven't done much swimming since as they didn't offer swimming lessons in the Gallows."

A half-hum as she boards the boat and ignores the uneasy rock. Brilliant, really. Hopefully the darkspawn were not attracted to singing. "Shall I? I do not wish to step on any toes if anyone else here would like to sing us across the lyrium pond."

[faithlikeaseed]

"Sadly we hadn't much opportunity for swimming in the desert," Myr says, all easy cheer to cover very real unease as he takes Wren's offered help onto the boat. (He can pretend it's not any different than riding the barge across the channel from the Gallows to Kirkwall. Or try, anyway--it's a lot less stable; he can feel as much. And there's lyrium in the water. Don't think about it.)

"Not even a doggy paddle, so I'll have to decline from the blasphemy contest," among other reasons not to join in one. "Though I'm sure even a wooden-hearted boat could forgive a little faithlessness if we've got Enchanter Ceallach to sing us across."

[dashing]

Saoirse, ever ready with undeserved praise. Herian doesn't look to her friend, just keeps a focus on Myr as he climbs in, to ensure his safety. Once he is safely in, she follows suit; it would not do to demand others take the risk before herself.

"The river was dangerous." The current, the grim matter that could be found in it. "I all but forgot any skill I possessed, before I came to Kirkwall." And then had lessons, but no one wants to hear about that, let's be real.

"Let us hope there are no other entrances the darkspawn used to access these catacombs." Better to be ready.