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

[samahl]

"Your accent, for one," Cyril pointed out. "I've never heard anything like it. Where are you from?"

[maladgogo]

Guy's head tilted a bit, and he chuckled then ran a hand over the back of his neck, under the section of his dreads left hanging at the back of his neck.

"Not sure how much context you got here, but I come from a motherfuckin' island, surrounded by kin n' others close to us. Slum, damn huge one, called Cité Soleil. Moved northward when I was little, but Papa, he was some fuckin' huge deal. Rebellion, cult shit, protectin' the rest'a us, n' he brought a bunch'a people wit' us. Set us up a compound all fuckin' full'a kin what talks like me. But we was also in a place where they be talkin' a little mo' like this, smooth n' gentle-like, so I s'pose that got creepin' in on m' verbiage as well. We speakin' French, kreyol, Spanish, lil' Esperanto. Every last mo'fucker speak sign language too, but can't really put an accent t' that shit."

[samahl]

Cyril listens and Guy's right, that he doesn't have much context. He doesn't really care, though, because just listening to Guy is worth it.

"I'm sorry, French? Spanish? Kreyol? What languages are those?"

[maladgogo]

It's been a while since Guy's found someone that legitimately enjoys listening to him, but Cyril's interest spurs him on some.

"C'est ce que dirait français," he starts, then lapses back into English, dropping the gentle accent that had accompanied the language switch. "Got told that sounds like Orlesian, but when I tried usin' it at a pretty lil' blonde lady, she didn't get it.

"Sa a kreyòl, lang se mwen menm ki pi habitués pou yo. Grew up speakin' that one. It's kinda unique, that particular fuckin' dialect. Haitian Creole.

"Cuando hablamos español fluye un poco mejor. We got a lot'a fuckin' latinos followin' us too, 'specially on the east coast. Spanish is real common everywhere so it just made sense to be learnin' it. Esperanto's a little harder to explain, it's more like...a conglomeration of rules n' words from all kinds'a different languages. Somethin' just about anyone could get the hang of, speak at will. Easier t' learn than English, which is what we call this shit we speakin' now back home."

[samahl]

Cyril listens to those languages with complete attention. "It does sound a bit like Orleasian. And the last one sounds a bit like Antivan? But not quite. I don't speak either of those, but there are many in the Inquisition who do."

Then, after a moment, "Would you be willing to teach others? Having a language that only the Inquisition understands might be useful."

[maladgogo]

Guy's eyebrows rose up at the idea, and he glanced around the camp before turning his smile back on Cyril.

"Now that there is a damn fine idea, lil' brother. I'll try n' teach you if you want, but I ain't exactly qualified to be explainin' like the grammatical structures or nothin'. Was still just a student when I got all fuckin' uprooted."

[samahl]

Cyril smiles a bit at the compliment and then moves closer. "Anything that gets me to spend more time with you is a good idea in my book."

[maladgogo]

Guy can't help but chuckle at that, and he draped an arm over Cyril's shoulders. He fit there against Guy's side like his lover did, and it was a comfort. It had long been established back home that Eri was his comfort object, and vice versa. Cyril was an alright stand-in.

"Y'know what? I like you, motherfucker. I'll hang around long as you'll tolerate me."

[samahl]

Cyril leans a bit into him, enjoying the way that his arm feels. "I have the feeling that I'll tolerate you for a very long time."