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

[singularwill]

"I think it is easiest to take the measure of a man at his worst," He said, his head tilting as he watched Zevran.

"I think you would keep your humour to the very last - and keep your friends backs, at the same time. Is that not a fair assessment?"

[ombranera]

"Then you will be waiting awhile longer yet." This was a moment when he was vulnerable to be certain- but this was not him at his worst. That had come and gone, come again and left once more.

"But if you wish to make your assessment now? I will not deny you." Nor will he confirm nor deny what he's chosen to believe.

[singularwill]

"I am sure I will continue to refine it, over time." He says it with a smile, because he doesn't doubt his assessment, at all, but no person is ever fully rendered at any given moment. Not unless you were a Spirit. That was what made Spirits so beautiful. All of their being, on display. They could not lie to you, or themselves, about what they were.

The same could not be said about elves, or men.

"However, you should find a better place to rest than stairs."

[ombranera]

"When I have finished this I shall dutifully return to my chambers and be a miserable lump there instead." He'd meant to make it down to the Valley- but if he cannot make it down the stairs? It will have to wait until the worst of this passes.