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faderift2016-04-17 01:31 am
faderifting) wrote in faderift2016-04-17 01:31 am
Entry tags:
- ! open,
- teren von skraedder,
- { adelaide leblanc },
- { anders },
- { araceli bonaventura },
- { ariadne },
- { benevenuta thevenet },
- { bruce banner },
- { cassandra pentaghast },
- { cole },
- { dorian pavus },
- { eirlys ancarrow },
- { ellana ashara },
- { fenris },
- { galadriel },
- { gavin ashara },
- { hermione granger },
- { iron bull },
- { james norrington },
- { jamie mccrimmon },
- { jim kirk },
- { kain highwind },
- { korrin ataash },
- { leliana },
- { leonard church },
- { malcolm reed },
- { maria hill },
- { martel },
- { maxwell trevean },
- { merrill },
- { mia rutherford },
- { nerva lecuyer },
- { obi-wan kenobi },
- { rachette dakal },
- { samouel gareth },
- { sera },
- { siuona dahlasanor },
- { solas },
- { velanna },
- { zevran arainai }
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.
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.
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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It SHOULD leave.
Zevran is tired of telling it to leave, it's Simon's turn.
"Make it go away? You are a mage, yes, you can do such things?"
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Another spirit, more solid than the wisps, stood a chance of being noticed as it materialized on the other side of the table. It was tall and broad and straight, unwavering and silent as it watched on...though it did, at one point, look over at the desire demon and giving an unmistakable stink eye.
Duty had arrived to ruin the party before it could begin. Simon had noticed it before but paid it no mind, not even enough to figure out what sort of spirit it was. It didn't get in his way so there didn't seem to be a need to bother it.
"The best way to be rid of demons like that one is to wait them out in my experience," Simon answered, reaching for a bowl that smelled fresh and bitter. "They grow bored if they don't get what they want. Trying to engage them is just asking for trouble."
Simon would know a lot about not getting what he wanted.
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At least not naked. He feels clammy and achingly gross. Fevers weren't a THING in Antiva- at least when they were they were not quite so terrible. He frowned in the general direction of the new spirit, eyes narrowed against the green of the fade at the edges of his vision. "And your friends are...?"
Friendly, at least. That much he could tell.
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"And them? The big one is thankfully quiet, that's all I've been able to tell. Mostly they just like to watch."
Maker, that didn't sound right at all. Simon grimaced slightly, though the spirit across the table was impressively unmoved. Mostly it seemed interested in whether or not Zevran was actually going to take the offered medicine.
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Mumbling attempts at keeping up appearances, were he on his game he'd recommend giving them something to watch- but Zevran wouldn't be here if he were on top of his game.
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"Which is fine with me," he pushed on, looking back over his shoulder to an unoccupied cot. From the corner of his eyes he saw the familiar purple skin--the desire demon probably would be interested, but Simon kept hoping that ignoring it hard enough would get it to leave. "I don't mind you watching with that in mind, you're not a spirit."
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This was better, that was the important thing. Though at that thought, Simon couldn't help but remember something that the assassin had let slip, something that he doubted he'd appreciate Simon bringing up again. But still, only ten years-- Simon's lips thinned as he forced that sinking feeling further down. He wouldn't bring that up at least.
"How have you been?" he asked. "Other than the fever and the seeing things..."
Zevran stopped by to see him quite regularly and they both seemed to have deliberately avoided bringing up what happened in the barn each time. But Simon couldn't be sure that meant that Zevran were truly all right. He'd be a poor healer if he didn't follow up...a poor friend, if he didn't care to know.
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Pulling up poor memories wasn't Simon's intention, but there was no neat way to explain his concern. Or if there was Simon wasn't smooth enough to think of it.
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