Simple Gifts [Closed]

[laurenande]

WHO: Galadriel, Thranduil, Solas, Myrobalan, Merrill, Kitty, Lakshmi, Teren, Marcoulf, Jang, Obi-Wan, and Anders
WHAT: A trip to a perfectly normal Chantry in the middle of nowhere.
WHEN: Current.
WHERE: The Island of Alamar, Ferelden.
NOTES: Current warnings, to be updated: Graphic Descriptions of Gore

The Abbey on the White Cliff

Travel to the Abbey on the White Cliff is no easy matter. While it stands not far from Amaranthine, the waters between the mainland and the island shores are a wicked confluence of eddies and razor sharp rock. The rain is ever-present here and the wind moves unpredictably at the best of times. Ships of size cannot travel easily to the island of Alamar and small boats are rarely steady through the choppy water. Fortunately, as the Inquisition approaches, the world takes some pity on them and the waters seem to still and calm. The clouds linger but, at the very least, they don't open above them until they have reached the land.

The island is a grey affair, all rocks and scrub and damp. The village, an austere looking outcropping of buildings, is entirely made from the local stone and, were it not for the red clay roofing, would blend into the landscape seamlessly. Very few people have strayed into the rain to greet the Inquisition and, without the voices to echo off the stone, most sound is drowned in the lapping of waves and the heavy fall of rain. As a result of the weather and the lack of citizens, the town has the general quality of a graveyard.

The merchants who work the docks are affable enough and, after unloading their haul and securing it somewhere a bit drier, offer to take the Inquisition up to the Abbey proper. The rain slows before long and the merchants lead the Inquisition to the main roads and, let them on their way. Fortunately, the Island is not terribly large and, even walking, it will take only a few hours to arrive at the far side of it.

As the party leaves the village and the shore, the island landscape opens before them. Sloping moors give way to periodic outcroppings of rock and, against the horizon and the far end of the island, there rests a dark forest of pines. The Abbey on the White Cliff stands at the far side, at the top of the hill and overlooking the waves. The road they travel is an easy one, well worn, and the buildings come into view long before they reach them--they stand several stories tall, made of the same stone as the village. They are moss-covered and have the look of an old building that has been questionably kept--at least, from a distance.

The closer one gets to the buildings, the more obvious the additions and repairs become. Windows that have no business holding glass have had colorful windows inset to them. The doors are heavy, wooden, and new. The ironwork on the walls is polished and unworn by the rain. There are no torches lit but, once the Inquisition members have reached the doors, they open promptly.

They are greeted by a Chantry Sister with a bright smile and rosy cheeks and, without hesitation, the lot of them are welcomed into the Abbey.


OOC:

Hey guys! So I plan on aggressively GMing this one. Basically I want to run this like D&D, or as near as I can manage.

The location threads below are available for single player/two player exploration, I will be tagging you with information based on where you go or what you do, but if you want to do a bigger thread please just use the team threads at the bottom. That way if you all decide you want to check out the [INSERT LOCATION HERE] and it leads you to [DIFFERENT LOCATION] I can move you along without changing threads.

Because of your proficiencies, different characters will have advantages in different areas/while talking to different people, so groups are best. I will also be PMing your character journal periodically with any information that your character may have picked up on that nobody else would.

The NPCs are available for talking to or questioning by any number of people. Their general locations are in their thread headers so you can travel there as a crew or ask me to send them at you, if you so desire.

Feel free to do new top-levels if you guys really want, I am just here to try and make this fun.

Comments

[dirth]

Solas' cloak is a match for hers and he wears it around his neck now, keeping him dry from the hideousness of the wet and the rain. It's thick and the air feels like too much with it, but when he steps forward his feet are as they always are - bound, not with shoes. The rain doesn't bother him as much as the atmosphere does, an awkward unsettledness that concerns him.

Moving forward, Solas steps up and hovers at Galadriel's side. He doesn't quite reach out to take her hand or offer her any physical comfort, not with the two of them in public like this, but he's there all the same. Something about this is upsetting her, is disquieting her; he can see it how it is making her stare, making her gaze, and he frowns.

"What do you think?" No matter how still she goes, no matter how quietly she speaks, Solas listens. He watches. He knows her, now.

[laurenande]

She is silent as Solas moves to her side, standing near enough that she cannot help but take notice, even if it is a distant variety of it. She stares down the road, at the place where the sky meets the moors, and her expression goes a shade more grim.

"I am uncertain what to think," she admits, though her tone is flatter than it ought to be. She is showing her strain--unusual, in and of itself, but it does not appear to be dire.

"This place is hazy in a way I have never known."

[dirth]

At least standing beside her means that he can feel a little bit more comfortable about what is happening; he does not want her to feel as though he is standing beside her to keep watch on her, or to act as though he somehow has the right to protect her. She has strength enough, Solas knows that, but his concern is present all the same.

"There is something odd about the magic here," he admits, frowning. It's not quite like being in the Fade, but there's something vaguely similar about it that has him tilting his head, wanting to learn more. The rain, the magic... All of it... It's different, different in a way that makes him want to learn more.

Careful, Solas offers his arm. Not quite a hand, but enough.

"I think we will learn more than we expect here."

[laurenande]

She regards him curiously, her expression hovering between that careful, distant blandness and something resembling sorrow. It flickers into the latter for a moment before she draws back and shifts. She takes his arm purposefully, intentionally, and stands closer to him as she regards the distance.

"I expect you are right," she agrees softly and urges him forward. They will stand under the awning until they can travel forward.

[dirth]

There is something wrong with her, but Solas can't place what it is. This place doesn't have the same comfortable magical presence as he had felt back in Ferelden, and he frowns as he tries to make himself comfortable with it, triest o make his peace with the awkwardness and the uncertainty of it all.

At least she is moving closer. At least she is holding him.

"I often am," he comments, smile soft and fond. He lets her urge him forward, walks at her side, considering for a moment. "Your cloak is being well used, at least."

[laurenande]

"That it is," she agrees and says no more for a time. She stands near him, absorbing what warmth is left to them in the rain and the chill, and stares at the distance.