faderift | Kingsway Rifter Arrival

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Kingsway Rifter Arrival

WHO: New rifters & their rescuers
WHAT: People fall out of a rift and get attacked by stuff
WHEN: Kingsway 8
WHERE: The coast of the Waking Sea in northern Orlais, just west of the mountains.
NOTES: The arrival log is open to all. Solas was able to alert the Inquisition to the general area where the new rifters would be arriving so people could be sent to pick them up.

You were asleep--deeply or fitfully, for the last time or just resting your eyes for a moment-- and then you were not. And wherever you were was not, anymore, replaced by nothing but the sensation of falling, tumbling into endless, bottomless nothing. If this were still a dream, you would wake before you hit the ground. You can't die in a dream, they say. In some worlds.

In this world, you're plunged down through warm, sticky sea air and full-body into salt water. It's shallow enough to stand and keep your head above the rolling waves--but you'll need to do more than that to live. Overhead, there's a flaring, shifting, green-lit tear in reality. Around you, there are a number of ghastly figures: some float above, hooded and rasping, poised to freeze the sea around you if you don't get out of it quickly enough, while others are spindly monstrosities that burst up from the sand and rocks beneath your feet and scream as they emerge from the water. Whatever arrived with you floats in the waves, slowly pushed toward the shore, or sinks beneath the surface. It may be wisest to leave it for now and collect it when the area is slightly less demon-infested.

To add to your troubles, there's a narrow splinter of light in the same sickly green as whatever brought you here, now glowing out of the palm of your left hand. It aches, a bone-deep pain that gnaws even through all the distractions.

But there's help, on the shore.

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Ellana only catches the tail end of the man's crash into the ground. It looks like he attempted Fade Stap and couldn't stick the landing. But with demons pouring out of the rift, anything beyond killing these creatures will have to wait. Mac will see a blue glow appear over him as Ellana casts a protective magical barrier on him. It looks like he has a sword, but maybe he's too hurt to fight?

"Fall back if you need to!" she calls out before focusing on the demons rushing towards them. She raises a hand into the air and then jerks down her fist, setting a Static Cage over the demons. When they reach the edge, the electricity will zap them back to the center of the cage, trapping them and damaging them for the duration of the spell. It can buy them some time.

"Well I've already done that, haven't I?" he groans, catching his breath a bit as he heaves himself upright and winces. Funny, normally just laying there for a moment would have at least recovered him from some of his injuries, but nothing seemed to be happening. He was obviously shielded, but it wasn't his own.

Turning bright green eyes on the woman, Mac shakes himself free of his confusion and focuses instead on the fight. Questions later, Hive now. Or whatever these things are; he can't really recognize them. At least he's backed up by another warlock? That's familiar enough!

"Pardon me!" Mac shouts cheerily despite the pain in his back and sides. Accepting he was awake meant more focus, and there were few things the man enjoyed more than a scuffle with friendlies in attendance! Drawing both arms back, pulling the elemental forces in around him, he thrusts a hand forward, aiming for the center of Ellana's caged area and materializing a swelling orb of flame that pulsed and burned anything in the vicinity.

"Uh, miss! Ma'am? Lady? I seem to have a bit of a thing?" Mac announces a moment later, looking at the hand he's raised to cast the spell. Green light throbs and flickers there, alarming at the least. It isn't blocking his ability to cast, at any rate, and he's watching Ellana, ready to work off whatever she does next because clearly she's got the home field advantage.

"Well, yes, but I meant retreat, not fall," she says quickly, getting ready to cast another spell. But then he casts one for her and she watches his flames with an impressed lift of her brow. Fire magic comes the most naturally to Ellana. It was her job in the clan to light all the fires, and with magic it was easy. It looks like it's easy for him too.

"Oh! Yes, that. You can use that to close the rift and stop more demons from coming out." And now she closes the distance between them. He seems friendly enough and not likely to set her on fire. Up close, he'll see she has green eyes too, though not nearly as bright as his. She also has pointed ears and a purple facial tattoo that spreads across her upper cheeks like the branches of a tree.

"I've watched people do it before. You sort of reach for the rift and pull your hand back like you're pulling it inside out."

Rifts? Demons? Pulling the sky inside out? She sounds mad but really, did any of it make that much sense at the moment? No, so he isn't about to start the questions. He'll wait.

Up close, Mac isn't really himself anymore, though he hasn't exactly had the time to catalog all the adjustments. He still feels the weight of his horned helm on his head, but what he hasn't come to realize is the horns aren't on a helm - they're on his head. His ears are thicker, pointed, his head horned, but for the most part he's still the same fresh-faced pretty-boy from before. He's probably makes for a comically diminutive Qunari, still at his normal height and weight. Not exactly the most threatening figure, no.

"I'm not exactly a gun, lady. I can't just point at it and click," Mac huffs, gesturing with both hands and waving them at her lightly. Then again, he mused, perhaps it was just like any of his Warlock magic? Think it, and it happens.

"Do you want me to try it, because I will if--" only then does he see Ellana's ears. Pieces start clicking together and for a moment he looks about ready to pop for how sharply he breathes in and puffs his cheeks, obviously holding something back. He manages to contain himself, tamping down on whatever thing it is he wishes to say, returning his focus to the matters at hand, so to speak.

"Just point and click, right?" he asks, raising his hand and gazing into the open palm before flicking his eyes towards the woman.

If anything, he looks like Kas, who is an Inquisition scout in his teens who is very short for a Qunari. She doesn't look at him as if he's incredibly strange because of this.

"Well, just point and pull? I can't describe how it's supposed to feel because I don't have a shard." She looks up towards the rift with a worried expression. "But another group of demons will fall through soon if it isn't closed."

"Well, that's...bad. Right?" he asks, shrugging in his confusion as he turns his hand towards the tear in the sky. He still has no real understanding of the situation or what's happening, but when someone comes in from off-screen and steps up to be the master for the apprentice, it never pays to ignore the advice.

"Point and pull..." he murmurs to himself, fingers straining outwards before curling in, Mac closing his eyes against the intensity of the light as much as to focus. Visualizing digging gloved digits into the fabric of reality itself, Mac tenses and pulls, remembering the first time he had to manipulate the Void an how unnatural it felt. Couldn't be much different...

"Yes. Demons are bad. They'll kill us." Hear the urgency in her voice? Ellana is hoping he does. The problem with Rifters is they obviously have no idea about anything in Thedas. Some don't have magic in their world, some have never heard of demons, some are used to things very different from horses and carts. And while Ellana adores hearing about other worlds and is happy to explain things in Thedas to Rifters, time is of the essence.

"I think it's working," she says, seeing the rift shift and make crackling noises.

Mac was being sarcastic, of course, but it was usually lost on most people, so he wasn't surprised by the serious tone. He just smirks through it, eyes staying closed as he shifts his weight and moves to take a step back, pulling the force he can almost, almost feel as a tangible thing.

He isn't going to open his eyes at the risk of losing his concentration and the vague feeling of grasping something that wasn't exactly there, but he isn't letting up, either. She did say it seemed to be working, after all, and who is he to question a presumed native?

Then again, is he really equipped to handle something like this alone?

The truth of the matter is, one rifter can absolutely close a rift alone. It was only Ellana and Kain fighting demons within the abandoned Adamant Fortress where he closed a rift while she kept the demons occupied and focused on her. But she's sure it must be far easier for rifters to come together as a group to close a rift. It must take a great deal out of a person.

If this doesn't work, then more demons will spill out, the pair will fight them, hopefully kill them, and then Mac can try again. Or he can succeed here and now. It's all up to him. This is why rifters and those native to Thedas who have gained shards are so important since the death of the Herald. She was the first with a shard, and she would have had a huge task ahead of her closing all the rifts that appeared with the explosion at the Conclave. Now these shardbearers are the only ones who can do the job and keep the world from being overrun with demons.

Up to Mac or not, he isn't confident he's even doing anything right aside from wiggling his fingers at the sky and hoping it has a distinct fear of phalanges. Fortunately, there were a lot of things happening that felt very familiar, particularly the ache in his arm and the pain lancing through his hand.

It's just like the time he let the storm take him...

Recalling that moment heartens the Guardian, held breath spilling out as he steps forward instead of back, opening his fingers and turning his hand palm up, feeling out the energy of the rift. Thinking of it like the storm that he'd tamed once before, Mac braces himself and lets the sympathetic energies of the rift and whatever was attached to him connect and intertwine. Closing his fist, eyes snapping open at the last second, he yanks violently back against the resistance of the rift. It wasn't a sure thing, but it certainly caused a massive reaction, the rift fluctuating with a deafening boom before flashing so bright he had to close his eyes against it, stumbling back to fall on his ass yet again.

He certainly wasn't making the best first impression.

Ellana winces at the bright light, but relief spreads through her immediately after hearing that definitive sound that signaled the closing of a rift. No more demons here to plague the rifters or those who came to collect them. No demons to harrass any locals either. Thank the Creators.

Turning towards Mac, she quirks a brow in concern.

"Are you all right?" She extends her hand to offer him help up, but she won't be offended if he doesn't take it.

"I don't know, actually," he answers honestly, reaching out and gripping her forearm, accepting the help without hesitation. grunting and wincing, he pats himself down, chainmail and fabric weighing wet and heavy against his body. Not as miserable as other incidences in his life.

"All in one piece, I guess. Seems like it, anyways. Huh. Helmet isn't giving any environmental detai--woah..." Hands roaming up to his face, intending to pull of a helmet instead came in contact with his own skin. Walking gloved fingers up along his cheeks to his temples, he runs his hands along the curling lengths of gold-plated ram horns.

"Woah. Woooooah. Okay, wait. What happened. What'd...what's...alright no offense or anything but am I high right now? Because you totally look like an elf and I think I turned into the Devil..." he mumbles, stroking his horns and the pointed tips of his ears with a genuinely perplexed expression.

"Oh my gosh, please tell me this is real."

Ellana doesn't blame him for not knowing how he feels. This can't be an easy situation in which he's found himself. But once he's back on his feet she frowns a little as she listens to him talk. A helmet with environmental details? What does that mean? At least she can understand the concept of being high. Not that... she does that, of course, but others in her clan did. Elfroot is a hell of a drug.

"I am an elf," she says patiently, watching him touch his horns. "I don't suppose the words Qunari or Vashoth mean anything to you? They have horns."

"I HAVE HORNS!" he cheers excitedly, snapping those lime green eyes up at Ellana and bearing all of his teeth in the open-mouthed smile of barely contained happy hysterics.

"AND YOU'RE AN ELF?! And those were demons?! And this is real and I'm not asleep or high or crazy? Well, I mean that's all relative - but an elf? Like a real honest-to-goodness elf? Like pointed ears and fancy languages and bows and arrows and magic and forests and all?" he trembles, gloves creaking as he flexes his fingers, wiggling them for emphasis at points in his deluge of words.

"So I fell through a hole in the sky, right?" he asks, pointing briefly towards the empty place where the rift had been. "And landed in the water - I can't swim, by the way - and poofed over here and fought real monsters with an elf and my helmet fused to my head or something but whatever I can let that go. Am I tracking?"

Well, that sure is a response right there. "Wait, you're saying you don't usually have horns?" What did the rift do to him?

The barrage of questions leaves her trying to sort through them all to see what she can answer first, but then she has to giggle at his enthusiasm. Most people would be terrified and demanding to be returned home right now, but he doesn't seem fazed at all.

"Yes. My name's Ellana, and I'm an elf. I moved around a lot, but Dalish elves do tend to live in forests. I can't fire a bow myself, but plenty of elves can. And not all elves can do magic, but I can."

Her eyes lift towards the sky and she nods. "Yes, the rift. You were somehow pulled from your world, through the Fade, and into this world. Ah, what do you mean by tracking?"

"What's a Dalish? Oh, oh, does that mean something fancy like "Elves of the Dales"?" he asks, enthusiasm never waning. He nods quickly here and there, absorbing and cataloging everything he's told.

He's not even phased by being pulled from his world to another, since that's kind of happened to him before. He isn't sure if parallel universes are the same thing or not, but it's close enough. His concerns are certainly outweighed by the sheer awesomeness of the situation.

"Tracking, uhh...like staying on track. Oh my gosh that's so cute. My slang is is just...whoosh!" he blurts, sweeping a hand over the top of his head, indicating that the saying had escaped her understanding. "This is like that one book I read with the guy that ends up in a fantasy world and has leprosy...except I don't have leprosy," he pauses, looking at his hands thoughtfully, thinking to take stock and make sure but shrugging it off. Guardians didn't get sick! Speaking of...

"I gotta see about my things..." he frowns, glancing around the nearby shoreline, already spotting some of his personal effects. "You wouldn't happen to have seen a floating pokey metal ball with a blue light in the middle? Talks a lot, kind of snobby?"

Edited 2016-09-13 01:56 (UTC)

"Yes, actually," she replies, since he's hit the nail on the head there. She's told other rifters the elves' sad history, and she's going to hate having to break it to him because he seems to think elves are wonderful, magical people to be idolized. She'll try to break it to him gently that a vast majority of the people he'll met will tell him elves are awful, stupid, dirty creatures. But break it to him she must. He looks very much like he'll throw down for an elf's honor.

"Um, no. Sorry. We could look around the shore for it." The fact that it talks isn't so outrageous since the Inquisition has handed out sending crystals to its members and those relay people's voices. "What's your name?" she adds, figuring they should get to know each other.

"Eh, don't worry about it. He'll show up. I mean...without him I'm dead, I think, so he's got to be in one piece somewhere," he shrugs, scanning the sea froth for anything resembling his goods.

"Mac. Macklemore Journey, actually, but I've been informed that sounds ridiculous and is too much to say, so Mac is good enough," he replies absently, pacing across the sands and picking up a soggy book with a long-suffering sigh. Well, that was going to be a pain and a half drying out. Not the first time he's had to, though.

"What about you?" he asks, turning his head and arching a brow at her. "Can't just call you Miss Elf Lady."

"I hope that's an exaggeration," she replies, brow furrowing with concern. As if it isn't cruel enough to be dropped in another world, doing it when he needs something vital to live is just deplorable.

"Ellana is fine." She moves to catch up and gives a gasp at the state of his book. "Oh no. Is it ruined?" She loves books, and will probably read the entirety of the Skyhold library before the war's end. When you grow up in a clan with very few books that you have to read over and over again, you treasure all you can find.

"Nahhh, it's fine," he replies, shaking it by a corner and shrugging as he tucks it into a crossed set of leather bands at his hip. "Pretty sure it's not paper since we mostly stopped usign it, and the other book is people leather or something so that's sure to be fine," he adds, pointing out another book bobbing in the water nearby, a hole evidently burned straight through it.

"Don't worry, it's always looked like this," he reassures her, holding the book up to his face and looking through the hole at her with a smirk.

"I collect a lot of weird stuff, I guess," he shrugs, checking his satchels for the rest of his things. The last items he recovers are his sword and what looks to be a large shard of white chitin. "I read somewhere that there was a bird called a magpie that did that a lot. Thought about calling myself Magpie until I found out Maggie was a girl's name and I'd probably be called that. Decided to stick with Mac Journey. Anyways, Ellana is a pretty name. Sounds like what I'd figure an elven name should sound like. Go you!"

Edited 2016-09-13 02:28 (UTC)

She's about to ask how he can read a book with a hole in it when he tells her he's a collector and she figures that it's not meant to be read.

"My clan's name, Ashara, means 'woman who is on a journey.' So our last names are similar." It's a nice little coincidence. "I'm with a group called the Inquisition. We come to rescue those who fall from the rifts and bring them back to our base. If you've found everything you can, we could head back to camp, and from there to Skyhold."

"Skyhold? Is that a colony? A station?" he asks, pausing in thought and looking Ellana over before shaking his head. "Nevermind, no. Probably no tech like back home to be had here. That's fine. Less chance of blowing up," he muses mostly to himself, smirking at the connection she made with their names.

"Maybe I ought to smarten my name up a bit? Be more local? Probably stand out like a sore thumb regardless, hm?" he snorts, reaching up and tugging at one of his horns. He isn't sure he'll ever get used to it.

"So...what? That's all the Inquisition does? That name has a fairly negative connotation, historically speaking, where I'm from."

"It's a fortress in the mountains. The Inquisition uses it as our base of operations." Even though he says never mind, she still explains. It's such an impressive place, and she's proud that it has ancient elven origins, even if it's been added to multiple times by other cultures. The giant owl statue over the front doors and balcony is still a symbol of one of the Creators, not the Maker.

"Um, well things can blow up here," she answers with a slight wince. The Temple of Sacred Ashes exploding was probably the biggest explosion Thedas has ever seen, but the dwarves use explosives in mining and clearing out underground passages all the time. The Qunari use gunpowder too, but she doesn't know much about it.

"There are a group of rifters here already." Some have integrated better than others, and that's because they've made the effort to. "And we have people with horns at Skyhold. Only one is as short as you, though." Because Qunari/Vashoth are tall.

"I-I'm not short!" he protests, patting a hand against his chest and raising a booted foot to emphasize. "I happen to be perfectly average in height! I don't even wear lifts, look!" Not that he precisely understood that among the horned people of the realm he was small. He just thinks he's being judged and that happens a little too often for his taste.

"You still haven't said what this Inquisition is all about though," he remarks, remembering his earlier question and arching a suspicious brow Ellana's way. Not that he really thinks there's some dark ulterior motive, since she just went at some demons with the same tenacity he would have gone at the equivalent back home.

"Of course you're not short," she says in a tone of appeasement. "You're average from where you are from. I'm just saying that here, people who have horns tend to be much taller." So hopefully he won't think she's poking fun.

"Oh, it's because it's a long story." Ellana gestures that they should start walking for the camp. "The shortest I can make it is that there is a powerful being trying to take over the world as a god, and we're gathering strength in order to stop him and his army."

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