faderift | OPEN: Cloudreach Event

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.

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Kallian is very busy in the healing tents, the work never-ending, every pair of hands needed. And it is because every pair of healing hands is needed that she does her best to push aside her own sickness. The little elf has taken to wearing a rag over the lower part of her face, a makeshift mask to try and keep from making her patients sicker, to hide her own flushed cheeks and drawn features. Only the glassy brightness of her eyes betrays her condition.

She does what she can to help herself: washing her hands frequently, trying to keep hydrated, and rest... Well. There is no time for rest. How odd, though, that she so often feels even worse after doing the very things that should be making her better.

And magic, well. She's been exposed in the Hinterlands, and now, she can see Hope, bright and beautiful, strangely seductive, seemingly standing beside her as plain as day. From the looks some of her patients are giving her, they can see the spirit, too, and she is ever there, murmuring her platitudes with a cheerfully grim determination. There is no point in hiding it now, there is no time to grieve the loss of secrecy, and Kallian is wreathed in blue light as often as not.

When she can get away, she slips down to the hot springs, hoping it will soothe her aching body, clear her passages and pores of the sickness. But then again, within hours, her fever runs higher than before.

She does her best to help, but sometimes, she is so tired... Seeing things, even. Fever dreams, perhaps. If she is not careful, the small healer is bound to drive herself to collapse.

Edited 2016-04-19 14:01 (UTC)

Jamie has been trying his best to ignore his own illness, pushing himself to keep busy with the same sort stubborn determination that once upon a time made him think he could walk just fine after being shot. He's had worse fevers, he thinks. He's not mistaken any Cybermen for the Phantom Piper just yet, so as far as he's concerned he's just fine.

With all the illness, though, the healers are stretched quite thin, and it's not long before he decides to help pitch in where he can. Sure, it might still mostly be fetching and carrying things, but it's better than nothing, and it lets the healers focus on their job and try to help people. Not to mention it gives him an excuse to check up on Kallian, something that probably isn't a surprise to anyone who knows him. He's more than a little worried about her, for a lot of reasons. They haven't exactly had a chance to talk about what happened in the Hinterlands, and now there's this sickness that seems to be affecting everyone and the thought that it might be affecting her too means that more often than not he's coming up with some way that he can be relatively close by, in case she needs him.

In the meantime, he's drinking tea to stay away - a lot of tea. And when someone presses a bundle of elfroot into his hands and tells him to take it to her, he winds up stopping completely still in the middle of the tent flap, his fever-bright eyes looking at her...and at the figure that's standing next to her, the glow emanating from it spreading out enough that it seems to envelop Kallian too, wrapping her in a cloak of light that makes her even more beautiful to him. For a moment, he very nearly says so, but what winds up coming out instead is something ever so slightly different.

"You're so bright."

She looks up, confused, until she realizes what he means.

"Oh. Ah. Jamie, this is Hope. She already knows who you are," she explains, gesturing at the spirit. "She's, ah, very bright, yes."

Kallian notices the elfroot in his hands.
"Is that for me?" She reaches to take it, hesitating short of touching him in case it's meant to go elsewhere. "Thank you."

"Oh. Ah, er, hello, Hope."

He has no idea if she can even hear him, let alone respond to him, but it seems like it's the polite thing to do - even if he does feel a bit daft doing it. Asking about the elfroot is a good thing, however, as it reminds him why he came over in the first place. He's about to hand it over when he feels the presence of something else nearby, and he turns his head slightly, seeing another figure looking at him almost curiously. It's like Hope but not like Hope, and he winds up tilting his head and looking back at it longer than he means to. Long enough, in fact, that it takes him the better part of a minute before he re-realizes that he's still got the elfroot in his hands. Shaking his head to clear it gives him a chance to refocus, and he finally gets around to offering the bundle out to Kallian.

"Sorry. Yes, this is for you. I was told you could do with some more of this, although no-one'd mentioned Hope. Er, is there a reason why she knows who I am?"

She takes the little bundle.
"Thank you. We'll put it to good use."

With the cloth over her nose and mouth, it's hard to tell if she's blushing or flushed, but her gaze flickers downward demurely.
"As for Hope... You've seen her before. Sort of. At the rift. But she's been with me for years. Just... Now everyone can see that we have a connection. Before, it was only others like me."

She looks back at him, eyes bright.
"How are you doing, Jamie? Not overworking yourself, I hope?"

At the rift. There'd been so much chaos and confusion, but the moments after the terror demon had popped up underneath him and slashed his leg open would probably be fixed in his mind forever. The initial pain and frantic attempt to scramble away as it loomed over him, the moment where he'd looked down and seen just how much blood there was, the cold that had started to sink in and mixed with the fatigue - and then the blue glow that had surrounded her as she moved to help him and he'd finally started to realize that she was healing him, not using a poultice or a potion but her magic, something he'd had no idea that she'd had until then.

It should've occurred to him that she's got a connection with a spirit - he's heard of it before, and he has some vague idea that there's a few people around here who've worked with the benevolent spirits. But for the most part he hasn't asked about it, happy enough to accept what he's seen. With Kallian, however, he finds himself curious, and wanting to know more. Answering her questions seems like a better thing to do first though, because despite everything that's going on, he doesn't want to her to worry.

"Och, I'm fine. Just a wee bit warm, that's all. Nothing I can't deal with. How are you doing, though?" His eyes flick over to Hope for a moment, then focus back on her. "I know you were upset about what'd happened at the rift, but now...if everyone knows you've a connection with Hope, are you alright with that?"

She shakes her head.
"It's still dangerous, Jamie. I'm still an apostate. That may not be strictly a crime anymore, with the Circles gone now, but that doesn't mean I'm safe. The more people who know, the greater chance that one of them will be someone who wants to hurt me because of it. All it takes is for one person to decide I'm too much a threat to live, and my life is forfeit. Chantry law still allows the Templars to strike down any mage they deem deserving of death on sight. To most people, elven lives aren't worth very much, so killing one, mage or otherwise, isn't usually considered a great loss. And there's not much that I can do about that."

She shivers, despite the heat of the fever in her blood.
"I'm still scared, Jamie. I try to be a good person, to make it so there's no reason to fear me, but I'm afraid to be alone, without someone I trust close by. I have no way of knowing whether a stranger approaching me will try to hurt me, or ask me for help, or simply ignore me. I'm afraid to sleep at night, in case I don't wake up again come morning."

There was a time where he wouldn't have believed that it was possible for that to happen, but now that's he's been here for awhile, that's no longer the case. It still doesn't mean he likes it, though, and he's quick to shake his head in denial, even though it leaves him a bit light-headed for a few seconds afterwards.

"Look, you're in the Inquisition, though. It's different here. They'd not let the Templars abuse that "law". Not if they want any of the other mages to keep helping them. And you've friends here. Anders, and Bethany, and me. In fact, if anyone laid a finger on you, I'd..."

Rather than finish the thought, however, he breaks off, making himself take a deep breath and push away the flare of protectiveness that's prompted the statement in the first place. There's still some of it there when he looks back at her, along with determination and a tiny hint of the feelings he hasn't admitted to mixed in with the lot.

"I'll not let them harm you, Kallian. Not ever."

"Is the Inquisition that different? For all the talk of a common cause, the people still have ideas on what is and should be right and wrong. It may be one banner, but it's not hard to see the fault lines between different factions. And some people still believe in the word and spirit of the Chantry's laws. These are the legions of the faithful, after all. Not everyone may share those beliefs, but the Inquisition is Andrastian in its heart and soul, and it is through religion that magic is warned against. And for those who would argue otherwise, even the Dalish don't allow for too many mages in one space."

Kallian shakes her head.
"There's a lot of fear on both sides. Some is justified, some is not, but fear robs people of being sensible sometimes."

A ghost of a smile.
"You're sweet to offer, though, Jamie. But you should worry more about getting better."

"Och, I'm fine," he says, stubbornly.

Okay, so maybe he's seeing things, but given it's Hope and Kallian can confirm that he's not actually hallucinating everything, he's fine. A wee bit warm, maybe, but fine. That same stubbornness makes him determined to make his point, though, and he winds up gesturing as he talks, waggling his finger to punctuate his words.

"And aye, maybe there's people who are afraid of mages -- or rifters, for that matter. That doesn't mean that there aren't folk here who've gotten past that, who've seen that we're not something to be afraid of. Lots of them. And a lot of them who are your friends, Kallian. I'm not saying that it's not sensible to watch out for yourself, but you needn't live in fear. Especially when you've got us to help watch your back. Think even your spirit friend can agree with that."

"You have to be careful listening to Hope. Her words are sweet, but not at all based in reality. The world we live in is not the same as hers and... she doesn't always understand that fact."

She eyes Jamie worriedly.
"You're not well, Jamie. How long since you last rested?"

"Aye, well, maybe so. But I'm thinking there might be a reason why she's decided to help you."

There has to be, he thinks. Otherwise she'd have wound up with one of the other spirits, like Compassion or Determination or whatever ones there were out there. Trying to think how just how many spirits there are is giving him a bit of a headache, though, and he moves to pinch the brow of his nose before her question gets him to startle and drop his hand back to his side just a little bit too quickly.

"Ah, I got some sleep in the garden not too long ago." He doesn't remember how long ago, but there was some there, he was sure of it. "I'm fine, Kallian, really."

"In the mud? Oh, Jamie..." She shakes her head. "Have you at least had the chance to get cleaned up?"

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wontforgetyou - 2016-06-07 20:57 (UTC) - Expand

Vasran is one of the many who have relented to being tended to. When she is awake enough to see who has come to care for her, she might notice that their own eyes seem glassy or their temples dotted with sweat, but she does no more than notice it. Everyone is struggling these days, to some degree. If they can bear the work...

Her eyes are half-closed when Kallian approaches, and Vasran hears Hope first, whispering that all this is temporary.

Vasran lets out a small scoff. "What good does that do us now?" she murmurs, opening her eyes further.

"Be careful listening to her. She says what she thinks you want to hear, with no regard for what is and isn't truth," Kallian remarks.

"How are you feeling, though? Do you have any pain? Is there anything you would like me to get for you?" she offers, gently dabbing a cool rag over her fellow elf's brow.

The spirit isn't exactly wrong, Vasran thinks. Everything is temporary, sooner or later.

As for pain: "Only a parched throat. I'm not even sure I could hold down water at the moment, though."

She squints at the other's face. A large part of it is covered, but she recognizes the eyes. And the lack of tattoos.

"I've seen you around Skyhold. Never said hello. It's — good, though, seeing other elves from the city."

Kallian nods.
"Born and raised in Denerim's alienage. But I admit being surprised myself at how many Dalish are here. They seem like good people, though."

She pauses, considering the other woman's accent.
"Are... you Fereldan too?"

Kallian brings over a small skin of water and offers it to Vasran.
"It's not much, but you're welcome to try just a little water... See if it helps..."

She accepts only a small swallow of water — not wanting to risk much, but too thirsty and over-hot not to risk a little.

"Ferelden — yes. I was at Kinloch Hold." Still a point of pride, after all this time, after the damage wrought by the rebellion.

"Kinloch Hold?" The name makes Kallian shudder. "So... you're a mage, then, yourself?"

Vasran swallows a second time, willing her stomach to settle.

"Yup." Not exactly in a mood to be wordy at the moment. "And, you..." She wrinkles her brow, trying to reconcile born and raised in the alienage with how blithely the other elf had spoken about spirits.

Kallian sighed. The truth was right there. Obvious, even unspoken. Especially with Hope hanging over her shoulder like she was. There was no point in denial.

"Privately trained outside of the Circle. So... Yes. A free mage. Or an apostate. However you want to look at it." Her eyes were downcast, but there was a stubborn set to her chin.

"Just doing the best I can to help."

The look on Vasran's face turned more wary. Privately trained. Free mage. She'd never heard it described like that.

When the other elf looked up again, however, she swallowed, schooling her features back into an expression of passive, uncomfortable nausea. It wasn't hard.

"Of course." If she tried to do anything magical, Vasran might object — but she'd only offered her water. No harm done, and no need to refuse the help being given. "Thank you..."

She trailed off, prompting for a name.

Kalli noticed the other elf's wariness, and grimaced to herself beneath her makeshift mask. Of course a Circle mage wouldn't trust an apostate, even if they shared a race and a country.

"Oh! Ah... Kallian. Sorry."

She sifted through a rack of supplies.
"I have some elfroot tincture... Tastes ghastly, but it might aid your fever, if you want..."

"Vasran," she offered in turn, and nodded at the offer of the tincture, lifting a hand to accept it.

She would thank Kallian again, when all was said and done, apostate or no.

"It is nice to meet you," she says kindly, and gives her the dose.

"...would you like some water to help get the taste out of your mouth? I know it's awful..."

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unharrowed - 2016-06-15 15:44 (UTC) - Expand

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