faderifting: (Default)
Fade Rift Mods ([personal profile] faderifting) wrote in [community profile] faderift2016-04-17 01:31 am

OPEN: Cloudreach Event

WHO: Anyone at Skyhold
WHAT: Cloudreach showers bring weird shit.
WHEN: Cloudreach 15 onward
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: For information about the illness, its effects, and its cure, please make sure to also read the OOC Post.


This high in the mountains, snowstorms are to be expected. But this one is large and lingering, hanging over the valley and the fortress for days. In Skyhold, with its eternal spring, the snow becomes rain before it hits the ground, leaving inhabitants and visitors to wade through puddles and mud in the courtyards. In the valley, snow and ice accumulate under cloud cover—and worse, when the clouds finally thin, a whole winter's accumulation of snow begins to melt in the sunlight.

Within a day, the ground is sodden and mucky enough to give the survivors of the Fallow Mire (or Ferelden in general) unpleasant flashbacks, and those who live in tents are issued additional hastily-constructed wooden pallets to raise their floors above the mud. It is worse outside the fortress: streams and rivers have overflowed their banks, rapids run twice as fast as normal, and flash flooding has made even road travel treacherous.

On Cloudreach 17 a mudslide buries the pass into Skyhold from the west, and on the 19th a sheet of snow loosened from a mountainside collapses into the shadowed passage from the east. An Inquisition supply caravan is caught in the latter, scattering wagons and goods across the hillside and leaving a dozen people and horses in need of rescue and medical care.

Healers may find themselves stretched thin, as in addition to the usual rash of blisters and sniffles that come from days of rain and flooding, an illness begins to sweep through Skyhold's ranks from around the 16th onward. It's marked first by climbing fever, then by flashes at the edges of vision—green light and jagged formations that aren't there, beings of light and shadow gathering around people or clustering in corners—and distant voices, coherent for brief moments if you're quiet and still and not trying too hard to listen.
serannas: amused (isala)

[personal profile] serannas 2016-04-18 04:56 am (UTC)(link)
"I see one of your symptoms is being glib with me," she replies, steering him towards his bed. "Now lie down and let me take care of you. I'm sure you'll enjoy being fawned over."
samahl: (now that we have a moment alone)

[personal profile] samahl 2016-04-18 05:00 am (UTC)(link)
"No. I know what Merrick looks like. He's beautiful. This thing is ugly." He groans a bit and turns towards Merrick.

"I mean it. There's something there."
fleurdesel: center, sarcastic, smirk, serious (It can't be all that bad.)

[personal profile] fleurdesel 2016-04-18 05:07 am (UTC)(link)
"We can try." Adelaide reaches out to smooth Korrin's hair out of her face, cool fingertips offering a gentle spell of rejuvenation to ease the ache of the fever. it is not much- it is not perfect, but it is something. The blue glow that coils around her like a cloak peels away for a moment, connected to Adelaide by a thin thread of power and awareness as it goes about, ushering the other spirits to silence.
arachnophobe: (noooo omg)

[personal profile] arachnophobe 2016-04-18 05:17 am (UTC)(link)
UNDERCROFT

Alejandro's general reaction to this whole thing?

Fuck this.

Too many memories of the O'Bannon remind him of this kind of shit, spirits and demons whispering. It's just on border of becoming a hot fucking mess, and he's not going to deal with this bullshit. Keeping himself down below in the Undercroft seems like the best choice.

Working. Working seemed good, but all he can do is slam his hammer over the shield, over and over, trying to let it ring in his head and not think of the O'Bannon. Of the demons, the red lyrium, Noah--

"FUCK!" Alejandro snarls, throwing his hammer down on the ground.

Anxiously, he starts pacing, running his fingers through his hair. This is not a good fucking time.


DREAMS

But regardless of what one tries to do, there is still what happens. When Alejandro dreams, a young man can occasionally be seen, either laughing quietly or seen collapsed in a heap, reaching for something or someone.

There are images of demons, red lyrium crawling out from the floor, and abominations tearing through. An armored warrior with a two-handed blade swings his sword down before his image dissipates.
samahl: (Default)

[personal profile] samahl 2016-04-18 05:24 am (UTC)(link)
Cyril climbs into bed and then rolls over a bit to relax. "Hn. That's true, I do."
samahl: (Default)

[personal profile] samahl 2016-04-18 05:26 am (UTC)(link)
"How are things different here than in the Fade?" he asks, thinking it might be good to talk about things rather than dwelling.
dalishious: (pic#10012565)

[personal profile] dalishious 2016-04-18 05:26 am (UTC)(link)
Briefly Merrick thinks of his recent conversation with Zevran, but any discomfort is quickly pushed aside in favor of worrying about his brother. He takes the cloth and gently wipes down Cyril's face.

"How long has he been like this?" he mutters to Pel.
el_tybs: Evan Antin (Default)

[personal profile] el_tybs 2016-04-18 05:29 am (UTC)(link)


[Healers' Tents]

The last time he remembers being this busy and pushed to their limits was when they were back in the Fallow Mire, looking for a way to cure the plague that was claiming the people there. The increase in traffic of sick and injured from the weather and flooding was understandable. The patients that were coming to them with fevers that had nothing to do with colds though were what was causing them alarm and having them running all over the place, barely getting time for themselves.

Complaints of aches and issues with their vision on top of the high fevers were concerning. Not just that but for some it was just mentioning coloring along the edges, or some ranting about seeing things that were not there. Sometimes it was hearing things.

When he isn't seeing a patient, Sam is running to the tent set up for research, sharing his finds and ideas, and then quickly running back out when he's being called. It's a lot of back and forth work, and it's been going on for a while.

Anyone coming in to see him will notice him taking a seat whenever he can, rubbing his eyes tiredly from time to time. When nothing is being said it is clear that once in a while he'll be watching and listening to something. Those who are hearing and seeing things will more than likely notice the figure standing somewhere close behind Sam, the form of it leaning in once in a while to mutter something to the mage.

[Around Skyhold]

When he isn't at the healers' tents, Sam is often sitting down in some corner or on a bench not too far away. He's trying to get as much rest as he can without returning back to his bed - he doesn't sleep, but he is certainly trying to get in some cat naps. Those not affected by the weird illness will notice that he seems to be talking to something or somethings every once in a while. Those who are seeing things - and should probably be in bed - will notice a form standing around Sam and following him around, or other figures gathering around where he's trying to rest.

[Dreams]

Anyone able to catch Sam asleep and see into his dreams will find that for the most part they are pleasant. Remembering a time before the Circle. A small house near the shore with a couple of people who's faces are blurred slightly. At times it shifts to being on a boat, enjoying the waves while they fished, and spending time on the beach, soaking up the sun in the sand or running away from the cold water. Sometimes there is a forge, very different from the one in Skyhold, full of tools

The unkind ones vary. A woman cowering as he fights a man, a flash of fire, and then figures in armor taking him away. There are times where it is endless walls of stone and rows of shelves. No matter where he goes there is no exit and eyes watching all the time. The most frequent are the whispers, different voices calling to him; making promises, begging for help, goading him.

[Wildcard]

[Choose your own adventure]
dragoon_pride: (despair has fallen over me)

[personal profile] dragoon_pride 2016-04-18 05:30 am (UTC)(link)
“I’ll just be going.” Kain says casually, about to slip by when the soldiers exchange a glance… and with a bit of fussing, he’s likewise “helped” back toward a cot. He protests the whole way, of course, going on about the more important things he has to do. Because he does have a lot to deal with. He’d been away collecting materials and now he’s got some serious reaver training to do.

Glancing over toward Korrin in the cot beside his, Kain frowns. “Perhaps we could manage an escape together?” Yeah, he’s not giving up. He feels like hell, and looks like it too, but he’s not giving up.
serannas: worried (ellasin selah)

[personal profile] serannas 2016-04-18 05:45 am (UTC)(link)
Ellana sits on the edge of the bed, watching him for a moment. Her expression shifts back to worried, because she doesn't want his fever to grow worse. He might be lucid now, but that could change fast. And then... then he could be in real danger.

"Do you keep a basin and pitcher of water in here?" she asks, looking around. "I should put a compress on your forehead to bring your fever down."
el_tybs: Evan Antin (Default)

Healing Tents

[personal profile] el_tybs 2016-04-18 05:56 am (UTC)(link)
He's not overly surprised when he sees Cyril among those waiting for treatment, but he had been hopeful that he wouldn't be seeing the elf amidst the numbers hanging around the tents. Honestly he had been planning on taking a break, but instead he heads over to where Cyril is waiting, moving into his line of sight slowly as not to startle him.

"Cyril."
ancarrow: (011)

[personal profile] ancarrow 2016-04-18 12:57 pm (UTC)(link)
"Block the door," Eirlys instructs the scouts as soon as she gets a look at Korrin - though if she really wanted to leave, she suspects there's not much they could do to stop her. She places a hand on her arm, rising up onto her toes to close the distance between them. "Korrin? It's Eirlys. I want you to try to focus on me."
gatheringstorm: (mod 11)

[personal profile] gatheringstorm 2016-04-18 01:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Those cool fingertips combined with Compassion's efforts ease the tension within Korrin and bit by bit, she begins to relax as much as she can for someone in her state. She's too miserable to smile but there's a weary nod in response.

"Thank you...both of you. I'm no medium and it's distracting as hell." She sighs and closes her eyes briefly. "What the hell kind of sickness does this crap, anyway? Make the Veil seem thinner without it actually happening...."
gatheringstorm: (despair)

[personal profile] gatheringstorm 2016-04-18 01:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Seeing her condition reflected in Kain, Korrin is severely tempted to go along with his plan. They're agents of the Inquisition, not prisoners. If she wants to leave the healing tents, that's up to her, isn't it? There's one problem, though.

"I'd love to, but that took all the energy I had for a while. Not sure I could get up on my own power again."
gatheringstorm: (despair)

[personal profile] gatheringstorm 2016-04-18 01:58 pm (UTC)(link)
If Korrin was in full health, then no, there wouldn't be much that could prevent her from leaving as she pleases. As it is, her strength is severely sapped, and the lightheaded spell that brought her back is enough to prevent her from departing again...at least for the time being. She's as stubborn as she is ill, so it's probably just a matter of time.

Korrin's eyes take a bit to focus, distracted as she is since this all began. "I'm...trying. Fucking spirits won't shut up, at least when I'm not trying to pay attention to them. Then when I do, they go mute. Fucking annoying...." She sways, nearly collapsing but a quick step forward from one of the scouts has her supported before she can accidentally crush Eirlys.
gatheringstorm: (anchor)

[personal profile] gatheringstorm 2016-04-18 01:58 pm (UTC)(link)
"Usually, I'm the center of attention there. You know, the usual temptation song and dance, or spirits just curious and looking for a chat. But that's it, they talk to me, not do this passive-aggressive shit of talking around me and then shutting up when I pay attention to them. It's fucking annoying." As Cyril must be aware, but trust Korrin to underline that fact.
arachnophobe: (that's just like. your opinion man.)

COURTYARD

[personal profile] arachnophobe 2016-04-18 02:48 pm (UTC)(link)
He'd been trying vainly to avoid coming out from the Undercroft; demons and Fade bullshit is absolutely something he's trying to dodge as best as he can, because fuck that nonsense and everything that comes with it.

But unfortunately, nobody is going to deliver lunch to the Undercroft, so not much he can do about it.

With his teeth gritted, Alejandro is making his way through the puddle-filled, muddy courtyard, stopping only when he hears Bethany's soft voice. He glances over his shoulder, spotting her.

"Shit," he mutters before approaching her. Hesitantly, he crouches down in front of the Warden. "Bethany, hey."
sunshinethroughgrey: (Pensive)

Re: COURTYARD

[personal profile] sunshinethroughgrey 2016-04-18 03:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Bethany's flushed with fever, eyes glazed over and her hair bound up and away from her face because she's just too damned hot. She looks at Alejandro and recoils a little, there's a rage demon sitting right by his shoulder, and she glowers at it.

Knows it can't see her but still. Hmph.

"Alejandro." She states in a firm voice that only quavers a little. "You really do need to let go of your anger."
arachnophobe: (LOOK AT YOUR CHOICES)

[personal profile] arachnophobe 2016-04-18 03:22 pm (UTC)(link)
Not that she's wrong, but it seems like an odd statement to make; he can't recall arguing with anyone recently, but then it probably is just her kindness reaching out to him. Alejandro, alas, cannot see the rage demon.

But it is quite appropriate.

"That's hell of a lot easier said than done." The blacksmith holds out his hand to Bethany, offering her help up.

"C'mon. You're only gonna feel worse hanging out here like this."
eolasemah: (sina down)

[personal profile] eolasemah 2016-04-18 04:00 pm (UTC)(link)
[At First]

The still-recovering Sina went down quickly, and without much fanfare: one minute she was on her way through the garden with a basket of fresh herbs, preparing to deliver them, and the next she was on the ground, the basket and its contents splayed around her. She was able to wake up long enough to feebly get herself to the tent she shares with Nari, then proceeded to fall asleep on the muddy floor, curled in a shivering ball and blazing with fever.

[Korrin & Araceli's Tent]

Rescued by Araceli, Sina is settled into her tent with Korrin, bundled up and still sleeping most of the time. It's probably better this way.

[Dreams]

There she is, back at that seashore. She thought she knew it before, but now her senses are so much keener in perceiving the odd ozone smell of the green waves, the dearth of breeze, the rough and prickly black sand beneath her bare feet.
She is used to this place, but despairs that this is where she always ends up now, when she dreams. No variety, no conversation, just a yawning and endless ocean spanning a neverending rocky beach.
doneisdone: (Default)

[personal profile] doneisdone 2016-04-18 04:14 pm (UTC)(link)
[Camp Shady Fucker]

Teren always boils any water she consumes, and would think this common sense, but 'sense' is not something she generally associates with the majority of the Wardens in their camp, so... well, here they are. She has dropped most of her other duties to ensure that everyone is warm and well-fed, and each day she makes the rounds of all the tents she knows to contain a sick person, then glares at them until they eat what she considers to be enough.
The good thing about so much snow around is that it's easy to make cold compresses, and even better because she isn't using the tainted water to do so.

[The Healing Tents]

Periodically Teren traipses up to the Keep and its healing tents to acquire more potions and herbal teas to treat the suffering below. She is not an entirely cheerful presence, but she's doing what she can.
wontforgetyou: (youmustbejoking)

[personal profile] wontforgetyou 2016-04-18 04:24 pm (UTC)(link)
"You're not fine."

Jamie's skin may be flushed and his own eyes bright with the first stirrings of his own fever, but he's in better shape than the man who's just practically fallen over into the mud and started talking to the air.

Although it's odd, if he thinks about it. It's almost like there's something there just out of the corner of his eye, lurking in the shadows like some unknown beastie, but- he shakes his head, dismissing the thought, and finishes making his way over to where Maxwell is sitting, reaching a hand out as an offer of help.

"Unless you'd meant to wind up sitting in the mud like that, but I'm guessing that's not where you want to be right now. Here, let me give you a hand up."
gatheringstorm: (fucking ow)

[personal profile] gatheringstorm 2016-04-18 04:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Having Sina for company means that Korrin's less inclined to make escape attempts in the name of...something something freedom something. She's still feverish and not especially clear-headed as a result, and the chatter of spirits she never wanted to hear anyway doesn't help. Whatever relief Araceli can give isn't shunned, but if Sina's even slightly awake, she'll gesture to the frail elf.

"Her first. I can wait. And ugh, shut the fuck up.

...not you." Either of them. But she frowns sharply in the direction of spirits that are now silent that she's focused on them. She sinks back, grumbling about spirits and not wanting to be a medium.

Her own dreams are a mixed bag; those with Araceli are either sweet or racy, especially one involving Araceli in pearls and a corset and nothing else. And then there's the other, much less pleasant frequent dream of the horrorscape that is the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The Araceli dreams are a little more dominant, but her entire motivation for joining the Inquisition often surfaces, those charred husks never far from her mind.
aggregiopavali: (Engaging)

[personal profile] aggregiopavali 2016-04-18 07:00 pm (UTC)(link)
No matter how much he might pretend that he didn't care for Bethany, that he felt betrayed by her, there was still a part of him that cared deeply for his friend. He hated it. Hated that someone could get under his skin so much. Hated that it made him feel weak - but it didn't. Friendship could be good, he realised that over the years. He'd never had that before Kirkwall, and Bethany had been a huge part of it.

He'd caught sight of her as he'd been headed to the tavern, and she was not behaving as she should. Making sure she didn't see him, he padded along behind her, trying to work out what she was doing. Stretching out at the edge of the battlements had him hurrying over to her. Something definitely was wrong, and if he let anything happen to Bethany, Hawke would find her way back from wherever she was to kill him, he was sure. "Bethany?" he asked gently, trying not to spook her. "What are you looking for?"
disgracedchampion: (Default)

[personal profile] disgracedchampion 2016-04-18 07:33 pm (UTC)(link)
"Truly?" Michel quirked an eyebrow inquiringly at the idea that the man might be fine, might be anything remotely resembling fine. Michel knew the difference, he was fine, he was standing on his own two feet and not slumped in the mud, his hand wasn't limp on his wrist. The Chevalier crouched down in front of the crumbled figure and took note of him.

He smelled of sweat, not from exertion, but from illness, it was completely different...there was always a staleness about it. He had a far away look about him like he was not altogether present. Something seemed to be going around, this wasn't the only strange occurrence in Skyhold, but perhaps that was it, perhaps it was this place...an old curse? He wasn't certain, but something was going on and when he laid a hand on the man's forehead he knew it wasn't fine.

"You need a healer."