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

[arlathvhen]

Well, I can't blame you for forgetting. Why, I'm impressed you remember anything at all about the People, lethallin.

[ You want to play this game bruh. ]

But I can see why you'd find it distasteful to stay within a clan, not when this world is so...

[ Slowly, pointedly, her eyes wander to the desolated village of Sahrnia, where people were hopeless and starving, then turns her gaze off in the direction of the Templar encroachments, red lyrium spikes visible in the distance. ]

...Charming.

[ And she gives him the sweetest, most pleasant smile she can manage. ]

It suits you.

[wickedchase]

[The calm yet snide smile on his face remains, and he merely chuckles.]

Ah, so typical. I mean, after all, you only entered the rest of the world when it has no choice but to take your help.

Perhaps if the Dalish weren't so involved in themselves, others might be better off.

But you keep dreaming about your ideal Dalish boy for you to bear children with. Because that, I'm sure, is just as charming to the rest of us.

[He tips his hat.]

Have a lovely day, Beleth.

[He could spend hours going back and forth, or he could spend his time worthwhile elsewhere. He knows what he'd choose.]

[arlathvhen]

[ Beleth keeps smiling, and takes a few steps closer to Twisted Fate. She doesn't bother to argue with what he says, doesn't bother to tell him that she will find it perfectly charming, thank you for asking, or a myriad of other snide remarks. There's only one thing that she bothers to say to him, leaning in close to hiss it to him through the chilly air, smile as firm as if she's painted it on. ]

Halam'shivanas, lethallin. Dirthara-ma.

[ Without bothering to translate or comment further, she takes the makeshift sled and turns to leave, pulling it and her game along after her. ]