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

"I was in a desert for a while. I wouldn't mind going back." It wasn’t safe, or fun, and there was a near constant threat of dehydration, but he preferred it to this.

Why didn’t he think of the fireball? (Because he might set the whole tent alight.) “Salvatore. Pleasure to meet you.

"I've spent some time in a desert. I hear you. Maybe we can talk to everyone here and stage some sort of... not uprising, but protest, when we all return." He could put ice around before scampering out of sight, maybe. It's one approach. Make everyone sympathize with freezing conditions... but really, it's not going to happen and they both know it.

Anders shakes his head.

"The best idea would be to get some sort of message asking for help to Leliana, but even that's a little too complicated to have results. I suppose we go where we go, and hope our limbs don't fall off in the process."

Sal snorts and then laughs. "I'm afraid we'll just have to pray that our next mission is to somewhere sunny. Perhaps a beach. A warm beach."

All this talk has him struggling his hands free so he can bare them to them fireball and work more warmth into them.

"Can I ask what brought you to the Inquisition?"

Aside from a small, wry smile at the thought of prayer actually helping him, Anders doesn't really respond to Salvatore for a few moments.

"This," he finally answers. "The ability to do something useful with my magic and not have everyone jumping all over themselves to lock me up or get away. The fact that the Inquisition may be key to that continuing. I want to do what I can to make sure that future comes to pass. And you? Clearly not the vacation plan."

They've started making changes. The Council is a good start. But it could all be lost so easily and Anders desperately doesn't want to see that happen.

"Well..." Sal shrugs, and smiles ruefully. "Much the same, I suppose. After the Circle fell, I didn't have many options. The Inquisition at least offered a purpose and some protection. And I've always wanted to see the world." So, clearly, the vacation plan. "Perhaps not the best way to go about it. But I've seen so much already. Even the mud and the snow and heat, I am grateful to have experienced it."

"It's at least a safer way to see it than apostasy." The statement's delivered wryly. He'd prefer being on the run to sitting in a Circle any day, but that's not true of all mages. "And I'm glad you've found a purpose that has nothing to do with Circles. We don't need them. We're better off without them. Training is useful, certainly, but forced while being caged?"

Anders shakes his head. "No other group would put up with that."

His smile just, grows. Which, okay. Maybe it's not the most appropriate reaction. But Sal smiles at most everything. But also, "I agree. I've been against them since I was old enough to understand what they were about. Things aren't perfect. Sometimes the Council puts forth compromises that make me feel like we're tripping backwards. But, I think ... I hope we're heading in the right direction."

It's nice when he runs into mages who agree. Too many are too forgiving of the Circles because at least then they hadn't been responsible for their own lives. Certainly being a prisoner is far more simple than living, but that's a waste of life. The barely-there tension leaves Anders' shoulders.

"I'd like to think we are as well. We're not there yet, but I believe that every day we're free shows almost every mage why we should keep things this way. There will always be the few fools who wish to return to captivity because they're afraid of living or simply lazy, but hopefully we can outnumber them. We should be able to. And if they want to run and hide, I'm certain there are many Templars who will miss being abusive and totalitarian."

"Not just mages. It should also prove to non-mages that we're not to be feared. If we're finally allowed to live among regular people, perhaps it will prove that we are, also, regular people." He laughs some. "I think you're being a little hard on them. I'm sure there are more reasons than that." But his outlook skews to positive. "But yes. I do hope there are more of us than them. And I hope that means we won't have to fight our way to freedom. I'm certainly not going back into a Circle."

Anders shrugs. "I've met two Templars who didn't seem to enjoy cruelty. One is dead. And I've met countless ones who see it as their Maker-set duty to go after any mage they come across until they're broken or Tranquil or dead."

Greagoir hadn't been heartless... but he hadn't cared about the fact that mages were people too.

"But now they have to see us as people, or at least pretend to, and that might seep in."

That's sobering. "I'm sorry." He tucks his pile of blankets more firmly around himself. "My experience seems to be have been more pleasant than yours. But I've heard accounts coming from other Circles. I've been fortunate."

He tries for another smile, something encouraging. "I have met good people here."

"There were worse Circles than where I was held, too." Anders takes a breath before shaking his head. They're preaching to the Chantry sisters, here. "All the more reason to make sure they never come back. And thankfully the good people will help with this."

He gives smiling a try as well as his voice gentles. "Of course, they're also the good people who have decided snow is a priority. I'll bet they all wish they had mages sharing their tents before we're finished out here." The smile gritted a little. "I don't mind making them jealous in the least."

open: something grabs ahold of me tightly

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