faderift | 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

'Impressive.'

Sam sighs heavily at that, course Fortitude would be impressed with how much Zevran was enduring. Even if did look like a sweaty furball, with sad puppy eyes. That was dangerous.

"I'm pretty sure you're just going to drink yourself to a drunk sleep and end up feeling worse after. You should honestly be in bed, not wandering around." He knows your room isn't nearby Zevran.

"I was trying to prepare myself for the walk to the Valley." Down to where the Grey Wardens camp. To see Alistair, to check in with him. Make certain he isn't doing poorly.

"The Valley? Where it's colder than in here and you're wearing at least four layers as it is?" He looks at Zevran a bit skeptically at that. Not to mention he's not holding himself up all that well at the moment. "Zevran, whatever you're going down there for I'm sure it can wait for a little bit. You're not helping yourself by pushing yourself like this."

"Seven." If they are going to start counting in truth- seven layers. Not that it matters. He needs to get down to check on the Wardens, on his Kestrels. He cannot be left to it like this. "If Alistair is ill he will be insufferable."

Seven? You're not helping your case, Zevran. "And you were going to do what? Take care of him if he was? You're also ill. I don't think that is going to help either of you."

"I am fine." He's able to walk, sort of, and see, mostly. "He is a miserable horror when he's sick. No one will want to put up with him."

"Zevran, I've been around you long enough to know that this is not 'fine'." Not to mention he was a healer and could tell, especially after the number of people he's seen - not like you had to be a healer to see how not fine the Antivan was.

"Sick and miserable, or not, do you think Alistair will appreciate you doing this to yourself on his behalf?" Sam's lips thin at the way Zevran is looking at him before sighing. "Zevran, I can understand that you are worried and concerned, but so am I. There's been a lot of people collapsing because they're pushing themselves too far and it's usually a short distance. You want to go all the way to the Valley, which is a sizable distance. Not to mention you've been drinking."

"I cannot very well expect him to walk all the way up if he's ill." Zevran mutters, poking at the empty brandy glass. Honestly he'd only gotten through the one cup, too tired for more. Probably for the best all things considered. The comfort of tipsiness was overcome by exhaustion.

"No, you should expect that you two should be in bed resting. If you're both sick with this strange sickness it isn't good for you to be roaming around." Not just because of the chance of collapsing someplace, but also because moving around just seemed to attract more spirits to the person.

After a time Sam sighs, bringing a hand up to rub at his face. "If I help you go check on him, will you promise to take it easy?"

"Yes." Using the crystals is one thing but he knows Alistair can sound fairly normal even with a seeping gut wound or concussion. He does not trust the man to be honest with how poorly he might be feeling.

It seemed he was finding himself in this situation a lot, but knowing Zevran would probably attempt this one way or another, he'd rather see the man safe rather than finding him later in worse shape - he didn't fancy going 'I told you so'.

"Fine," he says softly, carefully moving Zevran to lean back on the chair rather than himself since he was getting up. He's tired, and feeling rather warm himself, but he's doing better than most, which he assumes is thanks to Fortitude and casting some rejuvenation spells on himself.

"So what's following you?" he asks, reaching out to help Zevran to his feet. He's known about the form standing off to the side watching them, he has plenty doing so from time to time himself.

"Desire, most likely." He stands as best he can, wavering a bit before leaning into Sam properly. Not the most comfortable position but better than nothing. "Are they purple?"

There's a sigh as he watches Zevran get to his feet, wobble, and then lean. Once it seems like he is done moving around he slowly moves an arm around Zevran's middle to help support him better. "From my experience, yes, but I supposed if you 'desired' them to be a different color. I take it it's normally more talkative?" He hasn't heard much from it, but then again it probably helped that Fortitude was watching.

"I am more of a visual man, myself. If I am not looking it is easier to ignore. The fact that I feel too poorly to desire much of anything likely helps as well." The body is weary and the spirit is far from willing.

"Guess that is a bit of a silver lining." Even so it was strange to see Zevran like this, far more used to the elf being a lot more lively. "You know which tent is his right?" he asks, leading them to the door then outside, taking a moment to make sure Zevran was still stable on his feet. He's already dealt with some others that couldn't quite get their thoughts together - if Zevran was that bad he really needed to be in bed.

"I do." A beat. "Are you going to walk me down?"

That is- terribly gallant of Sam. He crackles a warm laugh, reaching up to squeeze his shoulder weakly. "Such a kind man you are, truly. I appreciate it."

"Well," looking down at Zevran, he smiles, just slightly though, "let's be real. Even if I made you go back to your room, you would try to get out and attempt going to the Warden camp either way. Right? At least this way you'll actually make it there."

Zevran was in no shape to be making the journey, but he was stubborn and was obviously going to do it with or without help.

OPEN: Cloudreach Event

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