"Why does anyone live in this Maker-forsaken hellhole? On purpose?" Korrin has to ask herself in a muttered aside that as she trudges through the muck...whether in the 'village' or Inquisiton camp or outside both areas of relative safety, the question is always the same. She's had assignments on the edge of the Mire before, with her own company, but heading into the heart of the area is a new experience. Personally, it's one she could do without. If the Inquisition didn't need everyone it could get, she would have gladly skipped this particular assignment.

The Vashoth mage is more fortunate than most, given that her height means she's not as soaked as some by the mire. Still, the cold, disease-infested water is no picnic to face. She wonders if she'll ever be dry again, at this rate. Frequent mutterings can be heard as she passes or as anyone passes her, usually in the vein of the above questions, sprinkled with some blasphemous comment or string of them. Perhaps the Maker will forgive her for it, if not his clergy.

[The Beacons]

As a mage, Korrin knows she's needed to help light as many beacons as possible. That's a task she doesn't complain about, even as the Mire itself doesn't get a pass. Whoever accompanies her is welcome, though with words and actions she makes it clear that it's a partnership and she's not about to hang back when there's trouble

Upon reaching the next beacon, Korrin peers around before approaching it. "Alright...get ready. You know what's coming." Her forearms enveloped in that eerie green flame, she lights the beacon. Whirling around, she whips out her staff and quickly casts a Barrier spell at the sound of demons approaching.

[Marked Houses]

Killing undead is satisfying and lighting the beacons useful, but Korrin hasn't forgotten about those who actually call this place home. Rather than wait for someone else to do it when she has the time, the Vashoth mage will take an assignment with whoever else happens to be available at the time. The sooner they can evacuate people, the better.

If only she were more familiar with the area. Since the depressing gloom of the Fallow Mire makes much of the area seem the same to her, Korrin is less than certain of her usual excellent direction sense. She frowns while pausing, intently peering around before finally nodding to her right, along a path just barely out of the water.

"That way...l think."

[Random Hunting/Hitching a Ride?]

It doesn't escape Korrin's attention that despite her grumbling, she's one of the luckier agents in the mire. Thanks to her height, the Vashoth doesn't have to worry about drowning or soaking herself in the disease-ridden damp, at least not as much as some. The elves and dwarves in particular have her sympathy, and whenever someone seems to be struggling, she'll pause.

"Want some help?" She gestures up to her shoulders, which have yet to be soaked from the mire's waters. If she's going to be taller than most, at least she can put it to use, right? At least for a stretch; she's a mage, no warrior, so it can't go on indefinitely.

Two terror demons and a host of corpses, lovely. Glad that she cast the barrier when she did, Korrin now moves into position and goes on the offensive, casting Chain Lightning. As it shocks her initial target and arcs to others, she raises her voice.

"Target the demons first! The corpses will--"

And the Vashoth mage doesn't get to finish her sentence. One of the terror demons phases in and out of the Fade, shrieking as it reappears and knocks her on her back. "Vashedan!" She tries to stand before her barrier can wear off, not wanting to be prone when it does.