faderift | open: something grabs ahold of me tightly

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

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[ Sam looks hesitant - nearly freezing to death in a snowstorm will do that to a hobbit - but hopeful, all the same, as he finally looks back at the elf. ]

You would do that? With me?

[ He furrows his brow, still anxious and uncertain. ]

I - I don't know. I couldn't bear it if we lost our way again, or -

[ Or - he thinks of Frodo and the Witch-king's blade, of Gandalf and the Balrog, and quickly looks away again, down at the floor of the cave. ]

You don't have to do that for me, Mr. Fate. Better if we both just stay close where it's safe.

And where's the fun of playing nice?

[Fate's smile becomes wry, his eyes still settled on the flame before him.]

I suppose I just can't imagine staying in basically one place for so long. It sounds like being imprisoned to me.

[And freedom is everything to him.]

Imprisoned!

[ He hadn't thought of it that way at all. Sam looks up at him, startled, and then shakes his head firmly. ]

Why not at all! I never went nowhere until I went with Mr. Frodo to Rivendell, and my old gaffer ain't never set foot outside the Shire at all, nor most other hobbits excepting Mr. Bilbo and those Brandybucks what visit Bree - but that don't mean we're imprisoned!

[ Imprisonment means misery and fear - like when the dwarves had been imprisoned by the Elves in Mirkwood. Not staying safe and comfortable at home. ]

There are many different kinds of prisons to be made, Sam. Those that people put around us, or those that we make for ourselves.

[Twisted Fate shrugs.] But if you're content, then let it be that. In any case, my offer stands: I think people ought to have a glimpse of what kind of world they're in, at least.

Better to know what kind of place you're in. Especially for someone who's been forced into Thedas.

[ Sam scowls. He sees the wizard's point, a bit; yet all the same, he looks doubtful. ]

I just don't know, Mr. Fate.

[ He looks around them, at the cold dark cave and the blinding white of the snowstorm beyond. ]

If all of Thedas is like this, or like that Mire, I don't know that I want to see any more anyhow.

[ It's all awful, cold and wet and frightening and too big - everything is too big, from the places to the people, and he shakes his head, casting his eyes to the ground. ]

I wish I could just go home.

I can understand that.

[Twisted Fate's voice becomes a bit softer.]

Thedas can seem very cruel to most people, even those who live in it. But there are things that are wonderful and beautiful. Those are the things I live to experience. Things I wish I could make some see, sometimes.

Though were it in my power, I would send you home. Not enough people have one they wish to return to, and I don't doubt that you miss it.

[ He does. He does miss his home, even more now than he had on the Quest, with Frodo and the other hobbits there with him. Sam swallows thickly.

He thinks of the dwarf he'd met, stealing food from nobles after they'd been so awful to her. Of Kas, the young qunari who'd nearly starved, left all alone as a child when his parents had died and no one had taken him in. Of the Elves, and everything bad that had happened to them.

And he shakes his head. ]

It's a bad place, Mr. Fate.

Wonder and beauty there may be, but even wonder and beauty past anything the Elves could offer wouldn't be enough - wouldn't be enough for all the suffering, all the cold and hunger and...and death.

[ He whispers the last, hardly wanting to say it. ]

It's a hard cruel place, and if there's no place people can go that's safe, where they can be happy and free - then what good is it? What good is any of it?

Elves could offer.

[That earns a quiet laugh, but Fate doesn't sound exactly... happy. Still, he doesn't elaborate. Instead, his eyes focus on the flames in his hand as he considers carefully.]

Throughout my life, I have traveled Thedas, Sam. I've seen many places, experienced many things. People I thought were friends would sell me out when it was convenient of them, those I said I loved would turn around and try to kill me if they were paid enough. For all of that, the few friendships I've held onto? Have truly meant something.

The few that know me, truly know me -- I would do anything to keep them well. And I have.

Thedas is cruel, hard, and unjust. The few wonders of it don't always seem as if they are enough light to offer but that's why it's worth working twice as hard to hold onto it, and find something better.

Better to try than not at all, I'd say.

[ It's not the most reassuring answer he could have given. Sam listens all the same, and if he rubs his eyes a bit perhaps it's just the flames making his eyes water. (But probably not).

He stays silent afterwards, absorbing Twisted Fate's words, thinking hard. Things had looked bad in Middle-earth too, worse than Sam had ever dreamed, even if the bad things were still things that might yet happen and not things that had happened already. He knows that all could be lost, if the Ring never reaches the mountain, and he knows what he'd seen in the Lady Galadriel's mirror. All the Shire could be wrecked and ruined, and there's no way of knowing for sure until he goes back - finishes the Quest, and goes home.

Only now it doesn't seem likely of his ever doing either.

He sniffles, and looks up at Twisted Fate again, blinking red eyes. ]

Better to try than not at all.

Will...will you tell me of those wonders? Of the beautiful things in Thedas? Of your friendships - the real ones?

If that's what you want to hear.

[Usually, when he tells stories, he spins them in a way that's more of a tall tale and exaggerated truths -- sometimes outright lies. But that isn't what Sam wants to hear.

And he has little to fear in telling the truth to Sam, who is so honest and sincere. Someone he is not concerned about betraying his trust. Far from it.]

You've meet the Vashoth, Tal-Vashoth, and the Qunari by now, I take it. The taller ones with the horns. They're all a little different and I won't bore you with the details on what makes them unique to each other, but the important thing to know is to visualize them.

Years ago, I'd already spent a good portion of my life on my own. Making a true bond with someone seemed fleeting and impossible, until I met a kindred spirit. We were playing a game of cards, and I had every intention of winning. I'm not used to losing; I'm very good at what I do. Yet, he surprised me. He was clever, quicker with his hands than he let on.

I learned to trick people sometime ago, and taught myself to read them. Him, I didn't immediately understand. Because he was a lot like me.

In other ways, he was a complete idiot; bless Malsaam, but that temper of his knows no bounds. But I knew he was my friend when he stood in front of me and protected me from a barrage of arrows from bandits that attacked us. I never... [Fate trails off for a moment, frowning.]

I never met someone who would put me before themselves like that. And I couldn't bear the knowledge of him being injured as he was. I was afraid for him.

We got away, and he healed. But I knew then that I had someone watching out for me. And we did for each other, for a long time, traveling across Thedas, having adventures.

I like to think for as much wickedness in the world, it helps you to remember when something good comes along, you'd best not forget about it.

[ Sam listens, quiet at last as Twisted Fate tells his story. He can't help but think of his own friends, of how Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin had always put themselves in front of Mr. Frodo. Of Aragorn and Boromir and the others, who had all fought so hard to keep the hobbits safe.

He hadn't thought much about how the Men (and Elf and Dwarf, and even Wizard) had always protected the hobbits. He'd been glad of it, of course, and grateful that they were there. But he'd never feared hurt to himself, either, so long as they were around.

He remains quiet for a long while after Fate falls silent, just thinking. Perhaps he'd been luckier than he ever realized, all along.

Perhaps the true wonder was the friends he made along the way. ]

But what happened to him? Where is he now?

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open: something grabs ahold of me tightly

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