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faderift2018-06-15 08:17 pm
player plot: who's a heretic now?
thunderproof), Gwenaëlle (elegiaque), Iorveth (aensidhe), Kostos (exequy or exsecutus why do you and cee hate me, mj), Nari (nadasharillen), Solas (dirth)WHAT: Temple of Falon'din
WHEN: Now
WHERE: Northern Orlais
NOTES: CW suicidal ideation, blood, general creepiness. If anything else comes up I'll edit, and if there's a CW you can think of while reading that I didn't include, lmk and I'll add it!
The ruins look, on the surface, much like any other Elven ruins might — crumbling stone structures overrun by plant life, chipped mosaics and tiled floors almost entirely hidden by centuries of overgrown underbrush. A quick investigation reveals nothing of note; this temple, it seems, had been picked over many times throughout the centuries, and anything of note has already been taken. The venture seems to have been pointless, at least for a few minutes.
Until someone stumbles upon a hidden stairwell, camouflaged in the underbrush and a secret to the original temple besides. It's a long journey down, lit only by magelight and the torches of the Inquisition, but as soon as the first foot steps down onto even ground, the Fade-green flickering of veilfire lights up a massive antechamber. The veil pricks at the skin, here, warping perception and sensation for those sensitive to its fluctuations, and embuing the whole room with a sense of foreboding solemnity for those who aren't. An eerie silence broken only by the sound of flowing water, and the musty scent of stale air make it clear: this place, whatever it is, hasn't been seen in centuries, if not millennia.
At the foot of the stairs is a landing butting up to a moat of dark liquid, fed by a pool set into a dais in the middle of the chamber. The pool itself burbles quietly, a waterfall spilling into it from the two cupped hands of a massive elven statue. The only way to reach the dais is to ford the river, but as soon as the party approaches, it becomes clear — the dark liquid within is not water, but blood, still fresh despite the millennia of abandonment.
On the journey to the temple, Solas told a story of Falon'Din, and the words seem more apt than they perhaps had at the time, given the weight of myth rather than truth:
It is said Falon'Din's appetite for adulation was so great, he began wars to amass more worshippers. The blood of those who wouldn't bow low filled lakes as wide as oceans.
no subject
❰ adalia maybe wouldn't be so pushy if she'd had an opportunity to think about this, rather than being surprised by it out in the open far away from any opportunity to do anything or talk to anyone else about it. at least she'd consider that gwenaëlle will talk to thranduil whenever they make up, which they will, and her opinions will surely come up. but gwenaëlle is not the only person superbly angry about this, and adalia isn't quite thinking anything through as much as she probably should be. ❱
He put the both of you in danger, not to even speak of what this means for every other rifter he didn't fucking consult. You can't let him just do this.
no subject
I no more have to do what you tell me than I had to fall in line with what he had to say. You've more than adequately expressed yourself. Are you done?
( because she is. )
no subject
❰ get over yourself is more akin to what adalia would say if gwen weren't herself, but she's angry, not stupid. some things can be apologized for, some can't.
one day, she won't have the emotional wherewithal to allow gwenaëlle to dismiss her so summarily. for now, she walks back to her own pack, sits, and goes back to working on more grenades. ❱
no subject
gwenaëlle stalks off for the tent she's sharing with iorveth, and will not emerge until travel necessitates it. )