WAR TABLE MISSION: Mushroom for Interpretation

[katabasis]

WHO: Edgard, Jone, Ellis, Richard & Isaac
WHAT: Riftwatch has been tasked with investigating strange phenomena in an Orlesian marsh currently scaring nearby residents off from their livelihoods.
WHEN: Firstfall
WHERE: Orlais, the Nahashin Marshes
NOTES: OOC Information; warnings: spooOOooky content. The plan is two have three headers with successive reveals as characters progress farther into the marsh.

It's possible that the cluster of villages which border the northern edge of the Nahashin Marshes would seem less grim and drab during some other season. But here, in the desaturated depths of autumn and populated by extraordinarily common people who have seen a great deal of their industry (and strapping local lads) sucked away in order to support Orlais' many war efforts, there is really no other apt description.

A few days spent collecting information from the locals regarding the strange happenings in the marshes will yield a number of accounts which vary in detail but are consistent in tone. Theories abound - there is a great rift at the marsh's center, someone argues (Has anyone actually seen this rift? No; not since the one in the hills to the north was closed a few years back). There is a horrible Fade-touched beast which roams in the dark. Witches of the Korcari Wilds have grown tired of eating Fereldan children and have come here to try their teeth on more delicate meat. Cateline's sister's husband's youngest brother, Fernand (who had always been such a brave, bright boy, and who might have been troubled since his brother died in the war but who would never be one to be lost or drown), had disappeared into the marsh and all that the search parties had found before they were driven back again was one of the boy's empty shoes.

And so on. While the accounts may not be crystal clear, what is abundantly evident is that without access to the marsh's resources it will be difficult for the villages to make enough of a living to support themselves through the approaching winter.

Comments

[poleaxed]

She gestures to herself. "I wouldn't know, luv."

[wythersake]

"Precisely what a witch would claim,"

Announces the local witch. (How many cauldrons did a small Monster escape?)

[poleaxed]

She looks Isaac over. "You'd be a roast."

[wythersake]

"Oh, do everyone."

[poleaxed]

A gesture toward Edgard. "A delicious pie."

[muckspout]

A grin and a shrug. "I always did like dessert."

[wythersake]

"I am," Without any real objection. "Surrounded by cannibals."

[muckspout]

"Just the one cannibal, the rest of us are food." Solemn nod. "At least someone survives."

[poleaxed]

Nodding toward Isaac, "never eat you, luv, there'd be nothing but bone."

Edgard receives a suggestive wink, because she's very clever.

[heorte]

Having kept largely silent, Ellis pauses and looks back from the head of the group to an eyebrow.

"You're going to get their hopes up," is his ruling. Maybe less about cannibalism but the variety of food options in play.

[poleaxed]

Gentle gasp, "That's slander, that is. I'd never dream of having hope. Seems expensive."

[muckspout]

"Speak for yourself." Edgard calls forward to Ellis. He waggles his eyebrows at Jone and hits her arm.

[wythersake]

Rude.

"I have it on good authority," His authority. Really more of a chaotic neutral authority: "That bienheureuse morille tastes of hope — but only a light dashing."