faderift | open: something grabs ahold of me tightly

open: something grabs ahold of me tightly

WHO: Inquisition Forces
WHAT: Inquisition forces cross the mountains into Orlais to deal with Emprise du Lion
WHEN: Wintermarch 25 onward
WHERE: EMPRISE DU LION
NOTES: This is a mingle-style log for the Inquisition camps, local tavern, and general/open Inquisition work, etc.

This time they hike down to the west, but the trip through the mountains is no easier. The snow is heaped up about the road where wagons have pushed it aside, stomped into slippery pack beneath the feet and hooves that have gone before. Of the main track it is ankle deep at best and in places it drifts, waist-deep on a tall man and enough to bury a dwarf who hasn't come prepared with snowshoes. Everywhere the wind howls, biting cold, and the sky hangs low, a pale flat grey that makes it difficult to judge distances. Those who know winter weather call it a snow sky, and near-daily squalls prove them right.

They set up camp in Sahrnia, across the broad expanse of frozen river that has trapped the villagers here upstream. Tents pop up in rows and in the shells of tumbled-down buildings, fires blazing and thawing the ground to mud. When the supply wagons roll in they re-open the local tavern, brightly lit with flaking paint on the walls that might once have been colorful and patterned tiles on the floor that seems to swim like an optical illusion after too many glasses of the cheap red wine that fills the cellars.

Even deadlier reds hold the hills: Red Templar sightings have been frequent and it is said they are operating in several locations in the region in significant force. Some of these men and women have become hulking, crystalline beasts. Many others are in the earlier stages of corruption: red-veined and -eyed, aggressive and superhumanly strong, but still visibly human and coherent if spoken to. Red lyrium is even easier to find, jutting out of the ground or cliffsides, filling caves-- the Tower of Bone, a fortress that has stood for centuries, now threatens to split from the inside out. The area's wildlife was none too friendly before, but now the wolves and bears have begun to be corrupted by the lyrium and many will attack on sight, without provocation. (The snofleurs that bumble harmlessly around the river seem unaffected.)

Everywhere there are ruins: broken bridges, crumbling colosseums, and the great hulking mass of Suledin's Keep tucked between the distant hills. Scouts reported that Red Templars hold it as well.

RIFTER ARRIVAL - SAHRNIA - THE HILLS - TOWER CAMP - A HANDY MAP

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"Those would be the ones." He made a face then, before he sighed softly, "They have specific names, specific emotions that they are connected to. They come from the other side to the Veil, or from the Fade ... which if you came through, you probably have a shard in your hand? A piece of the Rifts." James felt like someone should expand on this poor man's knowledge a bit.

He chuckled, before he shook his head, "No ... this is definitely a group effort."

He held out his hand, which had been seen to by a healer not too long ago, so now it merely glowed rather than aching like it had been.

"Got a crash course in this Fade n' demon n' Coryfiss business on the walk here. Still think it's a damn shame, good spirits gettin' twisted by bad people. Ain't no wonder the ones at home tended to avoid us all."

He nodded at the hand, because that was something he was getting used to strangers to their fair lands. Glowing, not bleeding, and a healer had seen to him. Good.

Now that was an interesting statement. "Are you a mage, sir? Of spirits no less?"

He was taken somewhat by surprise by that question. "Me? Nah. Just liked to get talkin' with 'em from time to time. Love back home is real good at that magic shit though. Talented wit' it like I ain't never seen, 'specially after he found hisself a good n' proper teacher. You wanna get technical, he was one'a them spirits I got talkin' at, but that's a long motherfuckin' story. Might be why he's good at magic n' all that, if home works like here do."

Now ... that was rather unusual, but Norrington was all about learning about new things. Mostly because it helped him be a better Templar. "So, you talk to the spirits of - ah - people have passed? Or are spirits people where you come from?"

Here, they called those mages 'Seers', and they weren't allowed under Chantry law. Of course Chantry law had taken something of a beating lately.

The look that Norrington was giving him made him think that maybe he shouldn't be talking about all of this so freely. Still, he couldn't just leave those questions unanswered.

"Sort of in between? I got my spirits, my loa, they the ones that watch over me n' mine, they more embodiments of things, but then there's people that pass away but they soul lingers, n' those'r the ones that'r easiest to talk at. Like...well, take Eri for instance. My beau. He died under hella bad circumstances, took to hauntin' his fam's house. But I'd watched him a long damn time up 'til then. Thought he was lonely. Established contact n' learned he still had his mind to 'im. Not all of 'em's like that, though. Some of 'em...they just want comp'ny. Even the ones that be all about makin' that motherfuckin' ruckus you get hearin' about. They can't tell anyone what they's feelin' proper, so I just...I'unno. I listen. Help 'em calm they shit. Figure out what they's doin'. They ain't always able to remember the shapes they was, but that don't mean they ain't people n' ain't deservin' of an ear."

Oh, that was just spirit magic. Very good spirit magic, but still. Norrington leans back again, still listening intently to the explanation. In love with a spirit ... but not one he brought across. One that maintained it's own mind, and as it were.

"I have heard of such spirits, beyond the Fade. Most of ours come with names though - Faith. Justice. Compassion."

"Got some with names like that, but they's more that embodiment thing I said. Eri's just...Erasmus. Was my next door neighbor, once." He shrugged some. Much more than that, he doubted that Eri would want him talking about.

"So more of a ghost than an actual spirit." He had heard of ghosts - never actually saw one himself. Although anything was possible in Thedas, he supposed. "Well, your gifts will be quite useful in fighting against our enemies -- so I welcome you."

"Right, yeah. We kinda use the terms interchangeably at home. Not all spirits is ghosts, but ghosts tend to be gettin' called Spirits, 'specially if they got some shit changed about 'em in the process. Got another friend, she got killed n' became somethin' like spirit'a revenge, called an Onryo. Eri didn't change like that, though, so he's more ghosty."

As he talked about it, his voice took on something of a cadence, his hands moving along with his words. He looked up at Norrington hoping that he understood. He seemed like he did, but there was always odd minutiae that slipped some people's grasps.

James looked thoughtful as he pressd his lips together as he nodded his head. "We do the same here. Spirits are ghosts, but not all ghosts are spirits." He frowned at that, "So your spirits turn more into ghosts if things upset them? And vice versa?"

He waved his own hands together, switching back and forth. "One level one way, one level another way?"

"Not quite. Sometimes the change happens right when it manifests, other times it takes time for those things to happen, like a motherfucker gets old n' starts losin' hisself to time. Can't really go back after a certain point. Can calm' em without changin' 'em, unless they take it upon theyselves to change they shape. Eri can change his outward appearance whe he all calm n' shit, give himself a change'a clothes, put on his rings, all that, but when he starts gettin' upset, he goes back to seethrough n' drippy n' more ghostlike. Ara can't though, she perpetual pale n' grey, but she chooses a new dress sometimes? If all that makes sense to ya ears."

"It does, actually. Our spirits change their appearance as well. Of course not as fluidly as yours seem to. I have heard of spirits being able to take on flesh -- but -- within limitations. Certainly they couldn't put in clothing." Or rings, for that matter.

"Took a lotta practice on his part. Guess he's just special in what he can do." He shrugs some at that, turning back to the fire. "So what y'all doin' out here anyway, 'side from killin' shit n' tryin' not to freeze? Heard somethin' before about prisoners in the mines...?"

"I must say, your expertise here will be immensely useful to us. We have difficulty speaking with spirits when we are not, in fact, mages." Norrington paused at the question, before his tone is a little more grim, "We are in the midst of a war, friend, for all of our countries. Thedas itself is at the mercy of a magister darkspawn by the name of Corypheus -- and he has corrupted both mages and templars to his cause." A pause, as he tapped his armor, "I am a Templar, myself, who has turned away from our Chantry and bad orders from our former leadership to join the Inquisition with my own people. We're here in Emprise du Lion to stop our corrupted brothers and sisters -- and free the villagers they are forcing to mine red lyrium. Red lyrium is a dangerous, magical substance that corrupts the mind, and the soul, of whoever uses it."

A pause, and a dry, "... That is the shorter version. I can go on at length, if you wish."

"Yeah, got a crash course when I met a couple people up at that motherfuckin' tavern. Can't remember gettin' one'a they names, but Korrin was real good about tellin' me the short version'a what's what around here. ...Can't remember havin' gotten yo name either, now I get thinkin' on it. I'm Gam," he offered, holding his hand out for a shake. "Never met a Templar before. The name's somethin' different where I come from, ain't nothin' good, but you's a good dude. Maybe I'll be hittin' you up later for more info though, you still feel like tellin' about it."

"James. James Norrington." He took Gam's hand, and shook it firmly, "I'll be pleased to offer it. I don't much like any of you wandering into a trap that could have been avoided without a little more background information. Just about as much as I like people were are sworn to protect sitting this far out of the protection of the soldiers."

"You prefer James or Norrington?" he asked as he shook James' hand, shrugging a shoulder at the following comment. "Well I like learnin' as I go. Spent my time learnin' cookin' like that, n' you can approach just about anything the same way, from my experience. What y'all got goin' here, I think ya got it in you to get people back home safe. Just don't overthink it too awful much."

"I prefer James, if we are going to be friends." He stated with a faint smile, shaking his hand firmly as he took his hand away. "I would hate to honestly try to keep such things to nothing but thought. We will get you home as soon as we are able."

"Well then James, it's real good to be makin' the acquaintance of a straight up gentleman. Hopefully this shit gets sorted out sooner rather than later n' shit can go back to normal. Unless it was all bad 'fore this fuckin' Breach thing, in which case, you got me wishin' all the goodness in the world at ya fine fuckin' countryside here."

"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Guy. Let me know what I can do for you, and please, do stay safe to camp." Norrington rose to his feet, then nodded to the camp. "The tents with the swords are mine and my people's. Please feel free to come and join us for food and company if you like."

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