Fandom Dragon Age Inquisition: The Rp IC

[The Silent Z]

​

The fall of the Divine- Makers last hope for peace before the rise of ancient, glorified hell told like the old stories of religious beliefs and holy power. The golden city now black, a foe unknown yet exists in shadow claims many lies, many truths as his own. A conclave now gone, divine and many lives lost to eternity and now that damned hole in the sky remains. Even weakened for now as that might be, it remains and it still threatens. The inquisition has been called to order, their stance made and flag firmly held planting its banner into the ground all across the land. Ravens have been sent, allies and potential ones called, headaches mounting, enemies fighting one another in the lowlands, demons threatening, hell even dragons have been spotted..... if only this shitstorm could get any worse right?

But give it time and it just might.... Much of the early parts have been settled, a glimpse of hope has been found by the glowing hand of a woman once thought a suspect to be held and tried in prison, within cells beneath the chantry. Now she's a offering of hope even if perhaps she's not really given many decent options to choose from and think over. A rally of supporters will surely come, companions are slowly on the rise and new faces to meet and greet and settle this damn fleet of misfits, holy pilgrims and overall rag tag bunch hold up in some mountain where cold and snow meet depressing and hope, they call it Haven.

After some time and the intail try at the veils tear and really just one massive eye sore for the sky and all to see. The gathering folks have set a plan into motion decided to gather more power for the mark. If that really ever sounds smart.... let's power up something we have absolutely no clue about, what could go wrong? It's not like we don't have enough challenges to overcome, but maybe it'll work. Atleast it's fifty-fifty right?

Meanwhile a small band of future inquisitor and companions have set for a downward trek through the mountain paths and arriving in the lowlands..... Redcliffe to be exact or well just outside of Redcliffe village. Some distance away at their first camp, meeting with scout Harding and now after her report starting to get down to business in the hills where no doubt potential allies, companions and enemies await or will come to see as not all will be aware or expecting a visit from some band called the Inquisition.

Here's where we shall begin our tale...

_______________
Once everyone's characters are ready this here will be the IC..... Archon Archdemon Han JiHyo Obi-Wan Kenobi FireMaiden dotie varda SerenityAngel Xylona

 

[Han JiHyo]

LADY MAVRIL CIRIANE

The road to Haven was long and winding, but Mavril honestly didn't notice, absorbed in reading the various scraps of paper in her hands as she was. It's been days since the tragedy at the Conclave, and frankly, she was torn between guilt and relief at the thought that she hadn't been at the Conclave. The former because so many perished there and the latter...well, if she had went with the Divine, she wouldn't be here now, would she?. But the Divine...oh poor Justinia. Mavril was no stranger to loss, but that didn't mean her heart was immune to the pain. Divine Justinia V was as close to a mother-figure as she was a mentor. Her death was a blow to both the Chantry and the hope for peace between Templars and Mages. Nonetheless...that would have to be put on a backburner. For now, they had more things to worry about than a feud between two Orders.

Rubbing her tired eyes, the diplomat put down the papers and turned to look out the carriage's window. Her spies, while rather efficient in their given tasks, were still only a handful in number and pitifully mortal. Most had been sent to track down reliable sources for the Inquisition, whether it be suppliers or parties willing to fund the newly-recreated organisation. The remaining few were tasked with giving her information on possible allies - individuals - she could recruit to the Inquisition's cause. An organisation needed its soldiers, and they already had a leader.

The Herald of Andraste. Many saw them as the means to an end.

Mavril is unsure what she should be feeling regarding this new individual who apparently survived due to the Divine's sacrifice. Granted, she doesn't even know what the Herald is like in person. Hasn't even met them face-to-face, in fact. Were they Dalish? Dwarf? Andrastian? Even Qunari? To be honest, she shudders to think what sort of damage control she would need to exert over unwanted rumours and tentative alliances should the Herald be a Mage. She didn't have anything against Mages as a whole, but that perspective didn't translate to others.

The carriage came to a slow halt, and a peek out the window once more told Mavril she had arrived at her destination. Pulling her cloak tighter around her frame, she stepped out and took a second to survey the village that would act as the Inquisition's base as they build this organisation off the ground, from the roots up. The air was chilly up here. Fat snowflakes fell in spirals from the skies but all the Bard saw was the giant rift, bright and splitting, a stark reminder of impending doom hanging above their heads.

Haven wasn't quite what she was expecting. It was filled with a mixture of hope and despair, and the clanging of swords. Refugees trickled in through its gates even as she watched, feet slowly making its way through the streets even as her eyes took in everything. It isn't her first time passing through this town, what with the Frostback Mountain being the western border of Orlais. But it is the first time seeing it so sombre, muted terror all but seeping into every tree and house dotting the landscape.

Snippets of conversation drifted into her ears, of demons falling from the sky, of the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes which now laid in ruins, of the Herald themselves and the hope they represent. But there were just as many who doubted the Herald, who opposed the rebirth of the Inquisition. Entering the Haven Chantry, Mavril sighed. The Inquisition was in its infancy and yet she foresaw her list of work to be endless.

"Lady Ciriane. We've been expectin' you." A young male clad in Chantry robes was standing in the middle of the main hall, hands spread in welcome just as she pushed open the doors of Haven's Chantry.

"Brother Rafus." Mavril dipped her head in greeting, stepping in to let the door close behind her. "Have the others arrived?"

"Nay. You are the first. But it's good you are here all the same. We do have a lot of work to be done."

She gave a humourless smile. "Isn't there always?" Reaching up to untie the clasp of her cloak, she had every intention of removing it and walk further into the building when she caught sight of the contemplating look on Rafus' face. "Did one of my scouts decide to drop something off here?"

He blinked, then shook his head in denial. "Oh, no, nothin' of that sort, my Lady. It's just...there's been rumours circlin' around but there's heavy doubt regardin' its accuracy. See, they're sayin' Wardens have been spotted in The Hinterlands, but that's a load of bull, if you ask me. It's probably all that Herald of Andraste talk blowin' out of proportion."

Now it was Mavril's turn to pause. The Hinterlands? Didn't one of her spies reported Bastien headed in that direction a few days ago? Granted, it wasn't enough evidence to proof Grey Wardens were sighted there, and it would be foolish to waste days travelling there only to find it false. However, it wouldn't exactly be a wasted journey, would it? Bastien was most likely in the Hinterlands still, and if the rumours were true, getting this information to him would serve him some good. If it wasn't, she could still take the opportunity to tell him the Inquisition base in Haven was now operational and ready for the Herald and their party.

Mind made up, the diplomat spun on her heels and headed back out to the village again. Not even an hour after she got off the carriage and she was going back on the road.

Location: Road to Haven >>> Haven >>> Heading toward the Hinterlands

Mentions: Bastien, the Herald

Interactions: N/A

code by Han JiHyo ​

 

[spacepanda]

Orion Velasco​

Orion leaned on the decrepit fence overlooking the Hinterlands just north of the Inquisition's Outskirts camp, vigilantly observing a group of templars approaching the Crossroads from the east. The wood under his hands gave a satisfying creak as it bore his weight, and finding an uneven pebble by his right boot the elf kicked it over the small cliff and watched as it tumbled down below.

The party has just been given a short run-down of the area by a dwarf whose name Orion had already forgotten. He had already forgotten the names of those he traveled with as well. All but one... Bastien, he inwardly cursed. The last few days had been the ultimate test of the elf's patience, and worse still he could hardly remember most of it! There were days where he and his sister lay unconscious on the dusty floor of the Chantry prison, only to wake up hungry, distressed, and confused. The searing pain of the green glowing light in his hand which had now simmered to a dull throbbing ache. The battle against countless of demons- so many demons! Orion had already seen enough of them to last a lifetime. Then more days lost to unconsciousness, arguments, not to mention the events before the explosion, which neither him or his sister could fully recall... and they had the nerve to call them both "The Heralds of Andraste." What a load of bullshit.

Yes, the previous days had been a fast-paced blur which some might have called an adventure; Orion simply considered it a bother. And now here they were, in the Hinterlands to seek out Mother Giselle, an agent of the Chantry who could prove useful for the Inquisition. But what did Orion care for the Inquisition? The cuffs that had chaffed his wrists might have been removed days ago, but he was no fool. He and his sister were still very much prisoners.

Orion turned away from the view below him with a deep sigh and joined the rest of the group by the tents. He wasn't looking forward to this meeting, but he felt he had no choice in the matter.

"Don't stand too close to the Seeker, sister," Orion spoke in quick Rivani to his twin, "He might decide us a waste of life and simply end this charade here." Switching his speech to Common he rolled his eyes, "Someone tell me again why we must seek out this Mother Giselle? The Chantry has already decided us heretics, right? What's the point?"

 

[Hawke]

Aria Velasco​

This is a beautiful place, Aria repeated it to herself breathing in as much fresh air as possible. Not knowing how much longer she’d truly be able to enjoy such things, her eyes refused to close unwilling to let the view before her disappear into a wave of darkness. That and unable to allow her new companions, the politest term she has for them, to catch her so unguarded. Neither she nor her brother knew what fate would fall upon them should the opportunity arise.

Of course, being locked up was not on the list of things she would care to experience again, but still one of the more likely scenarios. It was one of the reasons she had neglected to pay attention to the dwarf as they spoke of the Hinterlands, it did not matter what the area was like, they would be herded like the sheep they are. At the beck and call of other people who wanted nothing more than to force their Maker on her and her brother for some great propose, neither of them wanted to be a part of. Thoughts of being forced to fight more demons and the searing pain of seemingly ripping the mark open to close a rift passed through her head before she could force them away. In the span of two years, she’d become part of the universes worst kind of joke.

Thankfully, Death awaited her, it was only a matter of time before someone snapped and murdered them all. Aria glanced at Orion as he came back to the tents already making her way towards him despite the suggestion to move away from Bastien. “Then let us hope he decides to do so before the hike, it would be much appreciated” she answered in kind Rivani easily rolling off her tongue as it always had. Aria smirked at Orion's complaint deciding to stick with Rivani as she asked a question of her own "I wonder if this is just a really elaborate plan to teach us about their maker" realizing that was exactly what this was, a grin broke out over her face, just another ridiculous game.

 

[Obi-Wan Kenobi]

Bastien

The distinctive sound of metal scraping on stone had been permeating the camp for the past couple of minutes, acting as ambient background noise to the chatter of both the travelling party and any soldiers around the camp. Its source was Bastien, diligently sharpening his sword with a whetstone by the campfire. He'd been neglecting it a tad recently—something he wasn't particularly happy with himself over. There had been a lot going on recently. He'd been leading whoever he could find of the Seekers that were still loyal to the Divine, and with them at his back he'd gone on a wild goose chase for first the Hero of Ferelden and then the Champion of Kirkwall. Both turned up duds, even after he'd interrogated a close friend of Hawke's, Vaeri. In the meantime he'd been dispatching Seekers to hunt down a troublesome blood mage apostate in Orlais, one who was reportedly terrorising villages and townships in the Deauvin Flats. By all reports, this blood mage was quite canny, and refused to be drawn into an open confrontation with a group of Seekers. He'd brought Vaeri to Haven and the Temple of Sacred Ashes to pass on what she knew to the Divine, and set up his 'base camp' of sorts at Haven.

All of this was cut short when the explosion of the Breach wiped out the entire delegation. He'd been a few dozen miles outside Haven questioning a well-traveled merchant caravan for clues on the whereabouts of either the Warden or Hawke when it happened. And then it turned out that Chantry troops had discovered two survivors, a pair of nobody elves from Rivain, both with strange magical brands on their hands. These marks both held the same energy as the Breach itself, so he'd leapt to the obvious conclusion that they'd caused the Breach, probably on behalf of some other master. After some arguing and general hatred from the two, who were soon revealed to be twins, he'd given them the chance to prove their innocence by sealing the Breach. They'd managed only to stop it from growing, but that was proof enough for him, especially after he'd heard accounts of soldiers nearby who had seen the two elves standing with a strange female spirit as the Breach opened.

Clearly, whoever these two were, they had been sent by Andraste as her Heralds. He just wished she'd sent heralds that weren't so hateful. There had been many more arguments, which he bore the brunt of so that everyone else was unharried as they began to set up the new Inquisition. Where he could, he took command to direct troops, but these openings were rarer than he would have liked, for he was tied down with the Heralds. They had gained the aid of a strange Orlesian nobleman who had been in charge of a contingent of Orlesian soldiers at the conference to attempt to keep the peace. Evidently this one had not been in the Temple when the Breach opened. For now, he would be in charge of the Inquisition's troops, as his story had been verified by Mavril's agents.

Whatever misgivings he may have held about the Heralds, it was clear that their marks, the 'anchors' as Serenity had called them, were the key to sealing the many rifts that had been opened across southern Thedas. And that was another thing. A strangely-named elf hedge mage with uncanny knowledge of the fade and bizarre maturity for her apparent age had appeared, as if from nowhere, to offer aid. They had been in no position to refuse, though he had his doubts.

Correspondence with Mavril had driven him to the conclusion that finding Mother Giselle, a well-known Revered Mother who had famously clashed with Chantry doctrine and become a savior of the poor, would be a wise move. Behind him, he heard Orion's voice doubting this in his apparently characteristically bitter whine. Frustration rose in him, but he clamped down on any rash comments long before they could escape him. Frustration was a mere trifle, one he would not allow to influence him. Bastien put his whetstone down on the log that had been doubling as his seat. He rose, sheathing his sword in the same motion. Stepping over his shield, which was leaning on the log and newly polished, he made for Orion.

"The point," he began calmly, "is that Mother Giselle is popular with the people, and with many brothers and sisters of the Chantry. She will see that we are no heretics. With her support and guidance, we may begin to build Chantry support. Perhaps we may even get our denouncement as heretics overturned. With the Chantry behind us, the Inquisition will have far greater authority and influence, which we will need if we are to fulfill our purpose. Does this answer your question?"

spacepanda Hawke​