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

[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.]