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

[hlif]

That wouldn't even fill my little toe.

[There’s always something different about working for Orlesians. They want you to go to their parties for a start, want you to wear silk or ring velvet, sir kindly trim your beard and tame your hair, so he spends a night sweating his balls off and trying to fish his trousers out of his arse.] Makes you soft, you’re the last ones that get to go soft on us mate.

[Not that they’re lacking in them in the Inquisition, there’s more of them in Skyhold than there were in Ferelden for the Blight. And that’s carefully filed on the list of things not to tell his mother or she’d march up to Skyhold to berate them all even a decade later.

Bronson might be a bit soft these days but Asher has one person in his life that he babies and it’s his dog. A dog not just as good in the snow thanks to one eye that only really reacts to light or dark and little else so he follows along after Max, turning his head more than other dogs would.] What about you Cade, Orlesian pastry treats and delights? Free Marcher fish and egg pies? Good old stick to your ribs Ferelden fare?

[Bronson is barking though, so he flicks his attention back and over. Hopefully it’s not more possessed psychotic wolves today.]

[onlyhymns]

[Cade is about to answer, and barely gets out an 'um' before the dogs start barking. He too flits his attention toward them, then back at the other two, before he hurries ahead to see what the situation is. If nothing else, he can avoid conversation by immersing himself in the mission.]

[twelvelabours]

( Action, is it? Action, then. Striker Eureka is in hand, Rebellion braced on his arm, and a flame roars over the blade of the sword as he crests the hill.

Sighted: one stuck puppy.

Also sighted: five red templars, strolling in the direction of the puppy, which is currently at risk of being licked to death by Max. Lovely. Though they don't seem to have noticed the pup(s, lets be honest) yet, it seems entirely likely that they will, soon, with the barks. )

All right, then. ( A nod to both his new friends, and he's going to charge down the hill. Side slam into some templars, why not. He's not bad at the human battering ram aspect of warrior life. )

[hlif]

[Swinging his axe down, he shakes his head at the red templars as if utterly disappointed by the state of the world these days.]

D'you miss the days when the worst you ran into were some bandits and mercenaries? Tal-Vashoth if you were out Kirkwall way?

[Whatever, an easy day of dog rescuing is going to turn into a bloodbath, like every other day here. Herc please remind your dog this isn't Baywatch, don't drown the poor pup in slobber. Bronson isn't that far behind though because wow, what a fearsome beast of war you turned out to be with a good manly name like that.

Asher lets out a bellow that could have come from an animal and not a person before he starts running to flank, grinning the whole time.]