faderift | CLOSED | all those people that you know

Grassland gives over to scrub, then steppe, sand — and silence.

The Western Approach is full of life, for those who know where to look: It burrows beneath dune, wings above stunted trees and scaled hides. Here and there, a strange flower blooms, or a dragonfly buzzes past. But it’s been quiet for a while now; empty of noise, of motion, of all but the looming threat of storm.

(Of something else altogether.)

They’re close to Adamant. They’re close to the Abyssal Rift. Better not to light fires by night, lest they find out what answers them.

Edited 2018-08-12 10:19 (UTC)

The fortress is imposing, even reduced to sprawl and stone. Part of that must be the ripple of green at its heart, an open tear that crackles and spits atop the highest peak of rubble. There’s no means to close it, and gravity renders it unwise to try.

Little's left for history to claim: The shattered statue of a griffin, fragments of bone. Half a trepanned skull rests on the wreck of gates, leering a hello. A date and simple message have been scratched in below.

Seeing things. I quit.

The Veil here is perilously thin. The Fade presses restless against it, extended toward their minds like so many eager fingers. Spells will come easily, perhaps too much so — whole patches of sand here melt into bizarre fulgurites, the telltale signs of lightning gone astray.

To listen for any length of time is to know the whisper of breath.

Edited 2018-08-12 11:58 (UTC)

Edited 2018-08-12 10:02 (UTC)

It's difficult to say when this became a hallway.

May never have — what are transitions to dreams? Time slips and blends, unfolds itself only suddenly into the awareness of dark walls (of nothing but sand and sky).

There's a hunger here, raw desire; the dangling of meat before jaws. They're come to search, and they've been searching for a long time.

Not alone. The thing that steps between broken pillars might have been a woman, were her armor not ethereal, remembered and reflected to occlusion. The only part that shines clear is the symbol beat into its center: A sword spun downward, and wreathed in flame.

"I've been waiting," This isn't Rylock, not entire. Her face flickers sharper, then broad again, male; young and old by turns. Some might be known to the party — Kinloch, the Inquisition — others elude, must be recalled by other presence. "I knew you would come."

Edited 2018-08-12 10:18 (UTC)

"Well, this is as unsettling as advertised," Julius observes, his tone wry but volume hushed. "Do you think it's worth trying to find a place it seems like they might have been attempting this ritual? I'm not sure we'll be able to tell, but we might have better luck if we can at least narrow it down a little."

The state of the place makes him believe that they won't be finding any actual notes or useful research on this side of the Veil. He's not eager to suggest tearing at it purposely, though, in a place it's already so threadbare.

Talking out here sometimes seems too loud. Even the buzz of bugs gets startling, a sudden zip and then it's all still again. But silence is oppressive after too long.

"There's nothing quite like a rainstorm in the desert. If it actually... comes." There's also few things quite as ominous as a storm that threatens but never breaks. It's like being followed, and Anders never likes being followed. "I wonder if it will steam on the rocks; it's nearly warm enough."

Warm is a bit of an understatement. But Anders loves the heat and the light, especially the dry heat here, and it's something to talk far too loudly about.

The Fade feels like it's calling. Or maybe that's just the wind whispering and whistling through the ruins. Anders startles at Julius' quiet voice, looking over before going back to looking at what's before them.

"I'd start with places where magic's gone awry." Which is a lot of places. He tilts his head, reconsidering. "What's twisted, I mean. There's... Maybe more the center of this mess, on third thought. I don't fancy the thought of doing deeper in but the heart of the mess is most likely to be the source."

The broken griffon statue gets a gentle brush of his fingers before he's sighing and starting to quietly head deeper.

It's not the Fade, but it's so close that all of its dangers are present. Anders thought himself mostly prepared, but he jerks back despite that at the sound of her voice, at the sight of her face flickering in and out with the others. There is always that terror there, no matter how far he is from the Circle, and she is one of its faces.

"You're dead," Anders says as flatly as he can, trying to hide the tremor of fear in his voice and not quite succeeding. Death doesn't mean all that much when the Veil is this thin. "I watched you die at Jonas' hand. You've no power here."

Other shapes flicker around them. What he's feeling is drawing things, but he can't simply shut off his emotions. At least the Veil isn't thin enough for the demons to spill through. Not yet, at least.

"And you can't have me. Us. We're not your possessions anymore." There. That has a little more strength behind it.

"Isn't that always the way." Julius doesn't ignore the prickle at the back of his neck -- ignoring it outright strikes him as dangerous -- but he doesn't let it prevent him from pressing forward as well.

(A small part of him feels as if it might be quicker to just draw attention and deal with whatever comes of it, but that is a temptation to resist. He usually has no trouble with patience, but the atmosphere of the place isn't conducive.)

"I am beginning to suspect bringing a few shardbearers might have been wiser, though." He knows that what they're doing is confidential, knows why it needs to be, but he'd still feel better if they had a way to close rifts.

"She's dead," Julius echoes, addressing Anders and not the vision itself. "Have a care for what's actually in front of us. We're in danger, but not of being dragged to a Circle." He thinks, briefly, that it's almost lucky in this moment that he and Anders have spent so many years disagreeing over this. It means they don't share this particularly visceral terror, makes it hard to target them both at once.

(Not that Julius is oblivious to what templars can do -- but he's more wary of whatever is wearing that face. Those faces.)

His staff is in his hand, but he doesn't attack. Yet.

"Maybe." They would definitely be suited to one of the greater dangers here. "But few of them really grasp demons, their offerings, and their powers. Few enough from Thedas do even now. I don't know if a Rifter can be possessed, considering what they likely are, but I'd not like to put it to the test by exposing them to where demons sit at the ready."

The heat of battle around a Rift is simple enough. Fight, don't think, and the demons don't have time to get their claws in. In a fortress that's haunted by time and broken magic and a thin Veil there are all too many risks. The demons have had time here.

"It's a lair, now." Where once it was home to actual Grey Wardens, not the enthralled things following Corypheus about. It feels like the pattern of things in Thedas, really, though he's quick to brush that thought away. Despair are some of his least-favorite demons if he had to rank them - best to try not to bring them around.

"Have you ever been in a Warden complex before? Whole or broken, either way."

He takes one slow breath, followed by another. These aren't the Deep Roads, where memory is in the stones sometimes. It's on the surface and he's never seen that happen... He's only once seen... Okay, he's seen it happen a few times. But it's always been demons on the surface rather than an echo of things.

There's no way to fully shut off that fear except with something he views as worse than death, but there are at least ways to break it down and back away from it.

"Fear, then?" They're fairly adept at taking forms, better than Terror. They're also more of a fight than Terror, though truth be told he'd much prefer to fight Fear over Vengeance. Justice had obliterated everything in his path when he'd been in Kristoff's body and Anders truly doesn't feel like seeing what a Vengeance demon can do.

He draws his staff and side-steps to be a little bit away from Julius so that if it attacks it probably can't hit both of them at once, but this is perhaps a rare time to wait and see what the demon is going to do instead of promptly setting it on fire.

Julius doesn't pause over 'what they likely are,' though part of him would like to. Those conversations haven't, by and large, included Julius for a variety of reasons, and it's a question he's avoided looking at too closely since the blood plague ended. (He thinks, briefly, of the possibility of Petrana possessed by a demon, a thing he hadn't truly worried about until just then, and firmly puts that thought away.)

"No," he says, instead, focusing on Anders' question. "Honestly, before the Inquistion, I had very little direct contact with Wardens at all. The Hero of Ferelden by proxy, of course, but we never met. The Wardens I know now, well," he manages a bare smile. "You weren't Wardens when I knew you, for the most part. And I didn't run into many on the road. You tend to travel in packs, and I was avoiding larger groups when I could."

He nods, continuing to slowly pick his way over the ruined floor as they go deeper in.

"The libraries tend to be, if not all in the same place, in a similar wing with a similar structure, from what I've seen. Though I've not been in all that many Warden buildings either." Something something Templars, something something Justice, it's a story that a few know and isn't really relevant here. There's enough baggage on his mind already when they're dealing with Tranquility.

"And most of the good Wardens travel in packs." He flashes Julius a faint smile back. "The only real exception seems to be Warden Blackwall. He's something of a legend among Wardens. For the rest, you can find a decent amount of not-the-best Wardens running all over the place. Though they may be hiding that they're Wardens." Like he did for a time.

There's a noise ahead of them and Anders slows down, trying to determine if it's just louder whispers or something actually moving around.

"Did you hear that?" His voice is little more than a whisper.

Given that Julius was hiding the fact he was a mage at the time, he supposes he has no room to be critical. Rather than make that observation, though, he stops short at Anders' question.

"That sort of scraping sound?" he asks, low. Because there are several potential creepy noises to choose from in a haunted fortress.

"I wish you hadn't said that." Because if they're both hearing it then it's real. He exhales, pulling the staff off his back and pulling himself up to his full height. It comes again and he shakes his head.

"That is absolutely in the direction of where we want to go." Of course it is. There's nothing in view just yet, which means he's taking a moment to look around. "We could see if we could get around it, up the stairs and around, if there's a path there. There might be. Or we could try to take it head-on. Do you have a preference?"

He exhales, softly, thinking it through. "I'd prefer to try to get around, if we can. I could try to throw a dispel ahead of us in case it's a trap, but if it's a demon that'll just tip it off."

Or maybe their whispering would.

Anders nods. Fighting one thing might not be too bad, but this place could be crawling with others that one fight would draw.

"All right." He looks around before selecting a hall that seems likely before gesturing with his thumb. "This way." Then, equally as quietly as Julius, Anders starts heading in the indicated direction. Maybe for once they'll be lucky.

That would be a refreshing change of pace. Julius readies himself all the same, prepared for more or less anything (as far as he knows). He moves as quietly as he can, though, which partly splits his focus; 'sneaking' was not among the skills Circle mages were encouraged to spend their time practicing, so it's not second nature.

CLOSED | all those people that you know

OPTIONAL TALKING OR DARKSPAWN OR WHATEVER U WANT | Group or solo threads

OPTIONAL FORTRESS SPLEUNKING | Group or solo threads

FADE VISIONS | One thread per character but those can be group if u want does that make sense

ANDERS but OTA

OTA

OTA

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