Fade Rift Mods (
faderifting) wrote in
faderift2016-01-23 06:39 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
- ! open,
- { adelaide leblanc },
- { alayre sauveterre },
- { alistair },
- { anders },
- { araceli bonaventura },
- { asher hardie },
- { cade harimann },
- { cassandra pentaghast },
- { christine delacroix },
- { cullen rutherford },
- { dorian pavus },
- { ellana ashara },
- { galadriel },
- { garris vakrie },
- { iron bull },
- { isabela },
- { james norrington },
- { jamie mccrimmon },
- { kallian endris },
- { katniss everdeen },
- { korrin ataash },
- { lace harding },
- { leliana },
- { lexa },
- { maria hill },
- { martel },
- { mel"sparkleprincess"ys },
- { merrill },
- { nerva lecuyer },
- { sabine },
- { salvatore },
- { samwise gamgee },
- { varric tethras }
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.
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.
no subject
She was so absorbed in the conversation that when Galadriel turned her head to check her line, Ellana blinked as if coming out of a dream and registered that her line felt the same as before. It hadn't caught a fish's attention yet. So she turned her eyes back to Galadriel for more of her story.
The more she learned, the more she came to dislike Fëanor. Hate would have been too strong a word for a person she never knew and who hadn't affected her life at all, but he was so selfish and short-sighted as to come across as the second villain of this piece of history.
"There is much a person would do to restore what was," Ellana finally said. "It's something my people would attempt. If something of Elvhenan could be found that would make our lives better, there are many elves who would go to war for it. Even though this Morgoth was too great an enemy for elves and men, I could see how they would try to get the jewels from his helm to restore the light. But Fëanor just wanted them back to hoard them. So he could stare at what he'd created but not share them with those who would dearly love to see things back the way they were." She smiled sadly. "But we always have to move forward, don't we? I wish I could find an ancient elven artifact to share with the People, but that wouldn't suddenly give us back our lost years in exile, living as slaves, servants, nomads, or whatever else we've been reduced to. It would just be a reminder of who we were, and that would be good enough for me. Not for others, though."
no subject
Though she had fallen into this world unexpectedly, Galadriel had not come unarmed. Nenya was too grand a secret for this place, her need of it was too desperate to share, and the tale that accompanied the rings was unfinished and filled with woe. Fortunately, Nenya was not the only object that she had kept as she passed through the Fade and, in this moment, the star-glass would serve her far better than her ring.
"The light that Fëanor captured was hallowed by Varda herself. It was the light of the two trees that lit the world, and though they were destroyed, the treasures that held their light were not. One of them rises with the evening, adorning the twilight sky, and it is our most beloved star."
She set aside her staff and it settled heavily on the ice. The waters that rose from the river, dark and foreboding, lapped quietly at the jagged edges of the hole in the ice. Apart from the water and the distant crackle of mountain cold, the Emprise was silent and still. Galadriel reached into her leather armor and withdrew from it a crystal phial bound in lines of gleaming, white silver.
"This is the Light of Eärendil, and it carries within it some of that hallowed starlight," she explained and, very delicately, held the glass out to Ellana. "I crafted it, so that it might light a very dark path for a very unfortunate soul. I keep it with the hope that I might still give it to them, though I am becoming uncertain I will have the chance."
She looked up from the glass and stared at the Dalish elf at her side. The smile that glanced across her face was slight but honest.
"You do not need this light, not truly, and I cannot give it to you while it is still needed elsewhere. It is not of your empire, but it is a piece of the very heart of the Eldar. If it can grant you some reminder of elvendom, some hope, I would see that hope kindled."
no subject
Ellana watched as Galadriel retrieved the phial, and her breath caught in her throart. She gingerly set her makeshift pole down as well, and glanced up at Galadriel for permission before she gently took the phial in both hands, cradling it in her palms. Even though she wasn't up close to the hole in the ice, she still felt paranoid that the phial would somehow slip out of her grasp and fall into the water, so she shifted a little away from the fishing hole to shield the precious item with her body.
She had no words to describe it as it glowed in her hands. As a mage, she had used as sorts of magic that lit up an area: fire, lightning, veilfire. But nothing could compare to this. Amazingly, she was able to focus enough to hear Galadriel's words even as she gazed into the wondrous light, and when she looked up at her friend, tears were flooding her eyes. She blinked and they fell, but she didn't dare raise a hand to wipe them away and risk dropping the phial.
"Starlight," she whispered. It was all she could say. That evening in the courtyard pointing out the constellations to Galadriel returned to her and she sniffled, looking back down at the light. What if something like this was here in an elven ruin, waiting to be discovered? Galadriel was right that the Light of Eärendil wasn't of this world, but that didn't mean something similar couldn't exist. If they had something that could invoke these emotions in her, then the People would be truly blessed and rewarded for all the trials they had endured.
"You have." Carefully, she handed the phial back, loathe to let it go but knowing that this was a symbol of what could be here in Thedas, waiting to be discovered. "I look at this and it fills me with hope that there are precious parts of our past waiting to be uncovered." It didn't matter who found them, as long as they were given to the People to cherish. But she would someday search. Nothing would be found if no one ever looked.
Ellana wiped at her wet face and giggled. "Ma serannas. Just letting me look on it is a gift."
no subject
It was a shame she no longer carried the Ellessar; she could only imagine how Ellana would have cherished its power.
"I hope its light will not be needed in Thedas, but if it is, I will share it." Ellana wiped at her face and Galadriel could not help but smile at her. Her cheeks were already pink from the cold; this place was not comfortable.
"But that is enough talk of dark times, there is too much sadness in the Emprise du Lion for me to compound it so," Galadriel announced and glanced to the fish that rested on the ice between them. "What say you, mellon nin, shall we continue to fish or find our way back and search for a basket?"
no subject
"Let's head back. We can find a basket and rest by a fire pit for a few minutes. Maybe have hot drinks to warm us through before we return?"