OPEN: enough to shake and kick holes in the ground

[faderifting]

WHO: Everyone
WHAT: The Inquisition brings peace, stability, and inadvisable skinny dipping to the people of the Emprise.
WHEN: Guardian - Drakonis
WHERE: Emprise du Lion
NOTES: The locations in this post are opening in the wake of their respective quests. The Inquisition's work will be done and the bulk of its forces returned to Skyhold by Drakonis 15, the Inquisition will maintain an active presence in the region for the foreseeable future, with its activities centered in Suledin Keep.

After nearly a month of crises and combat, the Inquisition has successfully pushed the Red Templars out of Emprise du Lion. Their efforts culminated in the capture of the red lyrium quarries and in the decisive battle that reclaimed Suledin Keep, shattered the Red Templar forces, and sent their remainder fleeing from the region. Not only have they scored their first real victory against the forces of Corypheus, but Inquisition agents have also overseen the repair of an ancient bridge and the killing of three (3!) high dragons, reconnecting the beleaguered town of Sahrnia to the rest of Orlais.

For much of the Inquisition's army the hard part is over, but there is still plenty of work to be done.

VALESKA'S WATCH - RED LYRIUM QUARRY - SULEDIN KEEP - POOLS OF THE SUN & COLOSSEUMS

Comments

[byblow]

Scipio, Alistair thinks silently, and Kaisa; most of the Wardens here, and everywhere, are not what people expect them to be, but those two cases are particularly egregious.

Alistair himself is, of course, a perfect specimen.

A perfect specimen who once again needs a moment to collect himself in the face of her certainty and severity. But he does all right. His glare shifts into something a little more amused, after a delay, and he slouches back against the doorway.

"Riiight. You sort that out, then by all means," he says, gesturing expansively toward the chasm, "scour away. In the meantime, we've been the only things keeping the blight at bay for a thousand years," which is a very long time, she should be impressed, "so--" He inhales and exhales, at length, showily. (When are they getting married? Summer would be nice.) "Deep breaths, my lady."

[laurenande]

(Definitely Summer.)

"A thousand years? Is that meant to impress me?" Galadriel asked, honestly surprised that he would throw such a pitiful number out as though it were a victory. She gestured, as he had, toward the pit and the mounted skeletons adorned in Warden armor. The air of dismissal in her motion was palpable.

"Doors and pits and poison, yes, you've certainly attempted keeping the darkness back, haven't you? And, apart from ten years ago, of course, no armies of discord have recently marched beneath the open sky."

She didn't often mock people, let alone mortal men, but he practically begged it.

"Your efficacy astounds."

[byblow]

For a moment Alistair looks particularly, childishly disgruntled, because yes of course it was meant to impress her, but it doesn't last. There's a clatter and a brief escalation from discussion to argument from the workers. It gives him something else to look at, all the better to play at unbothered disdain.

"If only you'd arrived that much sooner," he says, sighingly. "I could have stayed home—" He would have found a home of some kind specifically for this. "—and put my feet up."

[laurenande]

His gaze listed away from hers and, in the chamber at their backs, the dwarves' argument escalated. Three voices became five and firm statements became low shouts. It was a heated discourse, yes, but only barely as hostile as Galadriel and Alistair's own. Thus far the dwarves were without anger and, as such, their shouting was not enough to draw her from her own furious fixation.

Wardens, it seemed, were quite skilled at drawing out the very heart of her ire.

"Strange, at a glance I would assume that was what you were doing," Galadriel replied, voice heavy with disdain. Her tone shifted from waspish to cold in the span of a few words. "The Men of Thedas are a poor sort, indeed, and the Wardens are a cruel, listless jest.

"For five and a half thousand years, I have fought the shadow. I have watched darkness poison the eastern skies, burn the earth and raze lands that were once fair and beautiful. I have driven it back with Men at my side, watched it fall and arise anew, and now I am come to this place," Galadriel told him, her tone as frigid as the grave, and turned to stare at the far entrance of the Watch, to let her eyes wander over the stairs that led up to the wintry landscape above.

"Now I stand here with you," she said and the word trailed with the depth of her irritation. She could not recall the last time she'd muttered aloud, but she did so then: "That much sooner, indeed."