Jun. 19th, 2018

arcaneadvisor: (Default)
A small dwelling tucked away in a corner of Sundermount, not too unlike the home she once shared with Flemeth but that will definitely have a much more Morrigan feel about it. Not so easy to find unless you happen to know what and where you're looking for, only comfortably large enough for one person permanently residing there but a guest or two could squeeze in for a visit at a push. Funded in part by Inquisition salary for the things she cannot make herself and probably money stashed from her time in Orlais.





















arcaneadvisor: (Default)
The Korcari Wilds are described as being filled with tundra, a cold southern expanse of forests, the full extent of which is not actually known. What is known is that they're dangerous and home to very few: Flemeth, her daughter Morrigan and nomadic barbarians known as Chasind Wilders. The Chasind say that there is snow to the south but few believe anything that comes out of the mouth of the Chasind. There is a mist surrounding the Wilds that is said to be unnatural and the result of a curse involving werewolves; this simply makes navigation complicated and risky because it reduces visibility and makes the shadows confusing. There are numerous marshes and bodies of water present too and the odd little area of camp belonging to the Darkspawn as well as Chasind trail signs.

They were deep in the Korcari Wilds now, he knew. The forest's dangerous reputation had yet to prove itself, but it certainly looked unlike anything he had ever seen before. The giant trees twisted like they were frozen in the throes of agony, and a perpetual mist clung to the ground.

-- The Stolen Throne

Maric collapsed in a natural alcove formed by the roots at the foot of a fallen tree. It was an elder poplar, papery white and ten times as wide as himself, and some unknown force had ripped it out of the ground. Massive exposed roots snaked around the alcove like giant tentacles, and a bed of thick moss and delicate white flowers grew in the shade.

-- The Stolen Throne

Map of areas the Warden is able to go in the first visit to the Wilds.

Deep within the Wilds is Flemeth's hut; it's a small hut, made of wood and raised from the ground, surrounded by marsh and some old ruins. It's not much to look at. Beyond that, it has an invisible magical barrier erected by Flemeth that repels Darkspawn but other than that, there' s nothing special to note. The hut will be locked and there is nothing of value left inside anyway.

Deep in the thick of the forest, where the white mist turned into an obscuring fog and the sun barely reached, there stood a simple weathered hut with a roof of brown moss and old branches. It lay on the end of a short path, and thick, dark ivy crept up the walls on all sides. More significant were the ropes of skulls hanging along the path: rat and wolf some Loghain couldn't even identify, all tied together with feathers and sticks and mud. They dangled ominously, a sign staking claim to this land. Maybe there was magic here, too, for Loghain felt a strange sensation running up his arms and into the back of his neck. The air bristled with power, and the way the mist flowed seemed to beckon them in farther.

-- The Stolen Throne

Loghain paused, unease growing as he noticed what were surely human skulls hanging in the ropes.

-- The Stolen Throne

As they walked down the path, the shadows seemed to deepen. The trees towered more ominously overhead, and the mist twisted and danced around them. A trick of the light? In front of the hut sat a small rickety rocking chair as well as an old fire pit that had not seen use in many days. Small moldy bones surrounded the pit in neat piles.

"Is that...?" Maric's voice trailed off in horror, and Loghain followed his gaze up into the trees. There hung a corpse, a human man with clammy white skin like a fish. He was strung up by his neck and arms, dangling like a broken marionette, with flies and the smell of turning meat hovering in the air. There was no sign of injury, but he had been dead long enough to discolour, the skin glistening slightly as if sweating. The doughy, swollen face and bulging eyes were not enough to hide the corpse's identity. Loghain knew exactly who he was.

"Dannon?" Maric whispered.

Loghain nodded. There were other bodies hanging farther in, just a few that he could see, hidden in mist and shadows. Most of them were skeletons with nothing more than tattered cloth and scraps of wispy hair clinging to them.

-- The Stolen Throne

Loghain heard Maric's sharp intake of breath behind him but turned only in time to see one of the giant trees reaching towards him with lightning speed. Great branches wrapped around him like giant hands, pulling him up into the air. Leaves fluttered all around while flies buzzed angrily through the air. He struggled and shouted, but it was useless. The tree stepped back into line with its brothers, and Loghain became another dangling trophy only a few feet away from Dannon's bloated corpse. Panicking, he tried to shout to Maric, only to have smaller branches wrap around his mouth and hold his head still.

-- The Stolen Throne

An instant later, something long and white slithered out from the shadows and snatched up the core. It was buried under the leaves, almost out of sight, but still Maric got the impression that it wasn't a snake at all.

-- The Stolen Throne

The hut was empty of everything but dust and rot, as if nobody had lived there for years. They searched about, but there was no sign of the witch.

-- The Stolen Throne

There may be many huts like this in the Wilds owing to Flemeth's habit of moving around when discovered by Templars and due to her magic – all will be empty except maybe a few things, all shabby and rundown. Some might still have skulls etc lurking around. Without Flemeth it is very likely that the trees attack as there are no sylvans that will attack the Warden at all until much later in the game in a completely different forest.

There are many ruins found in this place, most of them Tevinter in origin and sunk into the water so that only domes or spires can still be glimpsed.

There were no more unexpected encounters, though on the third night they found the remains of an overgrown ruin. It was a sight to behold, tall stone pillars jutting into the sky like rib bones, presumably having once held up a great ceiling. Part of the foundation remained, along with a set of long stairs, all of it cracked and almost reduced to rubble by encroaching greenery. Maric seemed awed by the structure and poked around it at length. He found the remains of an altar that held a great carving of what once might have been a dragon's head. It was faded now, though Maric seemed to see where the eyes and teeth might have been and traced them out. Excitedly, he told Loghain that this was probably a temple of the ancient Imperium, from back in the times when they had encroached this far south and warred with the barbarian tribes.

-- The Stolen Throne

There is the ruin of the Grey Warden's Cache but there's nothing there save a bunch of rubble.

Korcari Wilds
Codex: Korcari Wilds

The Korcari Wilds are dangerous. Morrigan mentions early on in conversation that she knows of fifteen poisonous plants growing at the swamp the party is stood at which happens to be right outside her mother's hut.

There are some wolves encountered by the Warden's party and they're pretty generic wolves, white and grey and very bitey. They shouldn't be too difficult to deal with.

There are black snakes known as Silent Crawlers (The Stolen Throne) that can be found, poisonous but tasty, at least the length of an arm. Ignore the smell if you eat them.

Some members of the Alamarri tribe, called Chasind, resisted the unification of Ferelden, retreating to the Korcari Wilds in the south. There they continue a peaceful life if misunderstood life in small communities. Their leaders are shamans, respected in Chasind culture for their magical abilities.

-- World of Thedas

Chasind and Codex: Chasind
arcaneadvisor: (Default)
source;

Morrigan: My research uncovered many strange claims about elven ruins.
Inquisitor: Such as?
Morrigan: Some insisted gods sent fantastic beasts to prophesize in their temples.
Morrigan: Others said they whispered wisdom to those who slept there a year and a day without pause.
Morrigan: The latter may hold some truth. Ancient elves were said to be gifted wanderers of the Fade.


Inquisitor: This altar… what kind of ritual is this meant to be?
Morrigan: I believe it represents a petition, a declaration of will to the priests who resided here.
Morrigan: Some ancient elven ceremonies were said to take decades to complete. Hopefully this is not such a one.
Inquisitor: What sort of ceremony takes decades?
Morrigan: Strange, is it not? So much time and effort.
Morrigan: Perhaps that is what led to the wistful Dalish legends of lost elven immortality.


Inquisitor: More rituals? What are they for, do you know?
Morrigan: I believe they signify an intent to lay one’s self bare, to champion a cause without pity, regret, or shame.
Morrigan: Mythal’s cult was not fond of vacillation. One approached them with nothing less than complete confidence.
Inquisitor: What happened to those who were less sure of themselves?
Morrigan: Legend… does not say.
Morrigan: Perhaps this place has a more gruesome history than we know.


source

Abelas: The shemlen are as poor at keeping their word as reputed.
Morrigan: As you assumed, else why would you have fled to destroy the Well?
Abelas: And we will defend the vir’abelasan, as we ever have.
Morrigan: With what? These few warriors who remain at your side?

Morrigan: What about one trained, prepared in your arts?
Inquisitor: You said the knowledge inside the Well might be “too much”… is it dangerous?
Abelas: No being so young has ever partaken of the vir’abelasan. I cannot know.
Abelas: You could never prepare as Mythal’s true servants did, in the scant years granted a shemlen.
Morrigan: Your vast lifespan did not ready you to drive off the Venatori. It has limits, clearly.
Abelas: This is true.


source

Morrigan: An interesting inscription: “Submit to law unyielding.”
Inquisitor: “Law unyielding”?
Morrigan: Perhaps this was some manner of courtroom? I cannot say.
Morrigan: The ancient elves considered Mythal a god of justice.
Solas: To call it “justice” is simplistic. Mythal was properly invoked by those seeking vengeance.
Morrigan: Oh? Are they truly so different?
Solas: To those who followed her, yes.

Profile

arcaneadvisor: (Default)
arcaneadvisor

December 2019

S M T W T F S
12345 67
891011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
293031    

Style Credit

Page generated Jul. 27th, 2025 04:29 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags