faderift | 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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Kid talks a mile a minute and it takes Garris a moment to gather all that up and figure what is being said. "Well I'm pretty sure if you call her Tal Vashoth she'll frown at you, cause she ain't that and explain why - she made a point in saying she was Vashoth to me. Valo-Kas is the company she's part o- Well I guess you do know her then." Knows her, but isn't a friend from what he's figuring.

Brother? Spirits back home-? "You're a Rifter?"

He blinks. Oh, this guy hadn't heard. Well that was fair. "Sorry man, never did explain about that. Yeah, guess that's what I am. Everyone else I talked to could tell, like it was writ on my motherfuckin' forehead. She knew it by lookin' at me. Guess she's dealt with lots of us by now, huh."

He sighs then puts a hand on his hip, the other one coming up to point towards where his hands were. "Let me see your left hand." There's no questioning that he's a Rifter if he's agreeing, but just to be sure he wants to see. That's that only way he knows to tell a Rifter from the others unless they look drastically different.

Gam shrugged and peeled the glove off to show the glowing green shard embedded in the skin of his palm. "Ain't sure what I gotta be doin' with it at the moment but it closes them motherfuckin' rifts so it can't be a totally bad thing, right?"

Sure enough there's that green scar-like mark in the middle of the guy's hand and Garris sighs. "I suppose not, having someone able to close these things certainly helps. Course then again I don't have one of those things in the middle of my palm so I can't say what the pros and cons of it."

"So what is it you do? Lookin' pretty human from where I'm sittin', n' so far I met elves, n' miss Korrin', n' if you don't have one'a these things, 's that mean you a soldier? Met one earlier, all motherfuckin' covered in gore n' shit, real friendly type'a dude. Can't recall havin' gotten his name, but he was real interested about spirits n' shit."

"Ah huh..." For a few moments Garris simply stares at him, brow raised high, as he filters through the words being tossed at him. After feeling he got the gist of it, he exhales long and softly.

"I am pretty human. What are you from where you're from? You look human enough. And I suppose you could call me a solider, though getting covered in blood n'stuff isn't quite my thing." A soldier interested about spirits? No one that rang a bell in his mind.

Don't worry Garris, he does that to everyone. Words are more than a little abundant where Guy's concerned.

"Well, back home, I'm pretty human m'self, just...I'unno, people used to get callin' me a voodoo prince? Kinda silly, 'f you ask me. Title like that's better fo' my motherfuckin' brother, carryin' hisself all tall n' proud like he do." He shrugs some, looking Garris up and down, then nodding some. "I c'n respect that. Ranged fightin's all good too."

So he was human from another world, and a... 'voodoo prince'? Even if it were a title, it's clear he's not an actual prince in nobility standards. "Someone's gotten fight from range. And voodoo? Care to elaborate what that is?"

He has to roll that around in his head a little bit. He lets it tilt some, then his hands start to move as he explains, gesturing with each point.

"Some people be callin' it a religion, but it's more spirituality. We ain't got deities so much as we got patron spirits. Damballah the father an' his wife Ayida-Weddo, watchin' us n' offerin' comfort n' wisdom. Ogoun borne'a conflict, Papa Legba overseein' the rites n' sacrifices, the Baron Samedi takin' care'a what's passed on. Ghede's the patron a' the dead, n' a cruel master at that. Got hells of fuckin' spirits could be goin' on about, but those is the ones closest to me personally. I'm the third born'a my fam, but that only gives me different responsibility from what Kur's got. Our compound n' us in it, we keepin' our city n' our kin safe n' in line. So people get callin' us the authority, even though it ain't over the people so much as the energy'a the place. Our spirits got lots'a energy all motherfuckin' tied up in us n' in our city. It's....shit, prob'ly gonna get all throwed outta whack now I ain't even in the world.." He looks rather worried at that. But that was even more complicated than what he'd already explained.

"Wait, wait... you work with spirits?" There was a lot of names and things in what the guy said, but that seemed to be the gist of it. Even though he knows he's from a different world and things might be different there, but just hearing that has Garris standing a bit more stiffly. He knows some mages here deal with spirits all the time, but there was always the chance of dealing with demons at the same time, right? Knowing that someone who wasn't familiar with their world might be doing that didn't have him at ease.

"That's a bit... dangerous."

"Can be, yeah," Guy agrees, "but if you know what you doin', do up your offerin's proper, make sure ya shit's squared away, ain't no reason to worry about it. It's like...an agreement. You do right by them, they do right by you, n' no reason to double cross or be hagglin' either way."

"Ah... yeah." Even if the guy seemed to know his shit and was pretty confident, Garris was going to take it like a grain of salt. After all whatever they did in their world might not work the same as it did here. "I'm not sure that's how it works here and normally anyone who talks to spirits gets a lot of stares. You're going to have to talk to the mages about that."

open: something grabs ahold of me tightly

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