OPEN: Cloudreach Event

[faderifting]

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.

Comments

[fleurdesel]

The usual dreams- the Spire, the pride demons, the death. She shakes herself awake with a faint sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. One or two hours at a stretch- if that- is normal. The air thrums with Compassion's magic as she casts a simple rejuvenation on herself to shake the last of the sleep and exhaustion away.

Tea and toast help as well.

"How long was I...?"

[judgemewhole]

"A few hours, nothing more. I'm not entirely certain how many of us have gotten more sleep than that." He gives her a tired smile, before he gestures down to the blanket and the bed. "You should try to grab more, if you can. You can't keep going on nothing, Adelaide."

[fleurdesel]

"Hours?" Shit. She struggles to her feet as best she can, stumbling when one of her knees gives out from being asleep. Passing out in a chair is no longer quite so kind to her as it might have been ten years ago. "There is too much to be done."

[judgemewhole]

"Hours." He stated simply, as he watched her stumble up. He stood quickly and grabbed her elbow, steadying her. "Well, at least get something to eat first before you run off."

[fleurdesel]

"I do not have the time-" Compassion scowled, as much as they were capable of scowling, of chiding, and she sighed in resignation. Between the spirit and the templar she was caught and too weary to truly wrench herself away. "...You are going to insist, aren't you?"

[judgemewhole]

He gave her a wry look at that, before he put a plate with toast on it before her, along with some fresh fruit.

"You know me only too well." One eyebrow went up, and stayed up. "You cannot keep going on nothing, Adelaide, and we both know it."

[fleurdesel]

"I can sustain myself long enough to find the source of this illness." She muttered, even as she slumped back into her chair and took a bite of toast. Not petulantly- LeBlancs were not petulant. She was tired, that was all. "I have gone farther on less."

[judgemewhole]

"Yes, but we need you alive on the other side of finding the source as well." James said tartly, as he made sure to nudge the tea towards her, as he pushed himself up, and went to the window.

"Maker ... still raining. Where is all this damned water coming from, anyways?"

[fleurdesel]

"The sky." As damp as the day was, her tone was dry. Dry, dry, dry. Dry as the toast, honestly, but there was tea and that made it slightly more bearable. "I know you spend most of your days bent over forms or reports or in prayer but if you look up now and then, James, you will find this great blue expanse."

[judgemewhole]

"Your sense of humor, as always, is such a sign of confidence." Is James's caustic reply to that little jab, and he adds, "Make sure to drink your tea."