open: something grabs ahold of me tightly

[faderifting]

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

Comments

[gatheringstorm]

[Just as she's reaching for fresh, dry clothes, Korrin perks up at hearing the voice of her favorite woman in Emprise du Lion. Why didn't they just steal a tent and claim it for themselves? The reasoning now escapes her, but she'll poke her head out of the tent flap anyway, instantly concerned when she hears that yelp. No, she's not flashing the entire camp but from their angle it's blatantly obvious that she was caught mid-changing.]

Are you alright, kadan? Come inside and--

[Then she just stares for a moment at Araceli's company, nonplussed. The twitchy Templar who walked away briskly whenever Korrin so much as made eye contact with him? That's who she was assigned to?]

[foxsays]

[There's always next time, maybe she can make that the stakes of her next wager with some scouts and soldiers when they're all back at Skyhold and dicing again.

But because her parents raised her to have manners, once she's on her feet with the worst of the snow dusted off, she offers a hand to Cade, a smile of apology on her face though it vanishes pretty sharpish when she gets a good look at Korrin.]

Sorry to intrude. [No she's not.] But certain promises were made to me you see, I can tell you that I take up very little space as well as assuring you that I do not snore.

[onlyhymns]

[Cade hesitantly takes her arm, but immediately recoils from the sight of Korrin, topless, leaning out of the tent like some kind of floozy. He covers his periphery with one hand and then quickly relinquishes the arm Araceli holds, brushing himself off.]

Thank y-- wait. [Keeping one hand up like a horse's blinder, he looks incredulously at Araceli.] ...you're...? This isn't your tent.

[gatheringstorm]

[Now that Korrin's aware that no harm has been done, she really ought to return to the tent and finish changing. But Cade's attempt to shield himself as though her chest was going to burn out is eyes made her roll her own.]

I invited her to find me wherever I'm assigned. I can't very well keep her warm when we're separate, after all. [She winks at Araceli.] Come in from the cold, beautiful...you, too, I guess.

[She isn't going to have Cade complaining that she kicked him out, however much she isn't going to relish his presence. With, that, Korrin slips back in to don fresh clothes...though she might take her sweet time about it now, for more than one reason.]

[foxsays]

I know it’s not my tent but seeing as Korrin’s in the tent, in some respects it is my tent. You know how these things are. [It might be more of a firm declaration than she’s made about the state of things before but she’s happy enough to belong to someone else so long as her life at home is on hold.] We’re all adults here, surely there are more scandalous things than a lover coming to keep warm when she doesn’t want to curl up with her tentmate for the whole night.

[Twisted Fate seems nice enough but she doesn’t know him, not really.]

Korrin, I know I wanted to see titsicles but yours are going to freeze off.

[Araceli has small hands okay.]

[onlyhymns]

[Cade looks at Araceli, glances furtively at Korrin, then turns and walks away. He has no idea how to engage with this, and chooses to flee instead, despite all his things still being inside.]

[gatheringstorm]

[Araceli's claim gets a grin from Korrin, who always appreciates such boldness. That it's to a Templar's face makes it all the better, in her opinion. When the rifter woman joins her, that grin lingers as she slips her arms around Araceli's slender waist.]

Then I guess we'll just have to keep each other warm, won't we?

[Hearing Cade's footsteps diminish, she rolls her eyes.]

You'd think I blinded him, me and my utterly sinful bosom. Though if that means I won't see him here again, I'll take it. Or maybe Fate will switch for the chance to needle a Templar.

[foxsays]

Wait, is a bosom really a sinful thing here? [Ssh that’s a genuine question.] The female body is closest to all aspects of the sea for us, every part of it is beautiful and to be looked upon in awe.

[Which is why her face is where it is, what a shame Cade’s missing this because Araceli knows for damn sure that she could get a lot of money charging people to look.]

I hope so, I don’t know him well but at least I can teach him Liar’s Dice somewhere quiet instead of having to shout in that tiny tavern.

[gatheringstorm]

Anything is sinful in the Chantry's eyes, or just about. If you're having too good of a time and not mourning the Maker's absence, you're suspect. I bet you anything that Templar's going to flog himself or go freeze outside as some form of penance.

[Korrin herself spares no pity for Cade, not minding in the least that this view is for Araceli and Araceli alone. What tentmate? Certain that he's not coming back, at least for now, her grin turns more suggestive.]

I don't mind the awe at all...and I'd be happy to return the favor, naturally.

[But first, she leans in for the kiss she's been wanting ever since hearing Araceli's voice through the tent.]

[foxsays]

Once my ancestors lost their entire being and way of life where they went above and below the waves as they pleased, building down to the very depths so it is said. Do you know what they did when it was sundered from us? They built ships, they built above the remains and ventured far and wide to all other lands, that is what they did. They didn't mourn endlessly.

[Reasons like that are why she's suspect about the Chantry, even a little suspect about the Dalish. You honour the past and remember it, you let it guide you but you don't allow it to loom so large or cling to it. The past can be the anchor that drags you down, down, down, drowning you.

Araceli prefers the future, the new horizon gold and glittering with promise, and the present, like now, setting her hands on Korrin's hips to balance herself as she stretches up on her toes, holding back for a moment, just to tease.]

Remember, I have much riding on bragging about Vashoth heating pads, there's at least one Antivan I must make jealous.

[Now Korrin gets her kiss, a small happy sigh right before it because it's cold and miserable and terrible here, but there's Korrin, and Korrin always makes it better.]