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

[lettersfromhome]

There's a soft chuckle, instead of outrage. "Perhaps you are right," she murmurs. "But I feel as if I did I might not rouse myself again. And there's so very much to be done. So much..."

It's the mantra she's been pushing herself with for ages, her eyes drifting over those caught in the rain, miserable and wet. It's been a horrid few days, all told. Lucky thing that Cade seems immune to whatever's swept over them all.

[onlyhymns]

Cade finds this as strange as anyone else, but has opted not to look the gift horse in the mouth. In the meantime, he can make himself useful.

"Is there anything I can do? In your stead?" he asks. He's mostly used for labor these days, which could pretty much mean anything.

[lettersfromhome]

"It's very kind of you to offer. I'm certain there's a shortage of hands with this..."

And her thoughts falter a moment, as does she, wavering just enough to nearly stumble forward into the mud. If not for Cade's presence at her side she might very well tip over, a sudden rush of dizziness overcoming her.

Yet even before her head has cleared she's trying to wave it away.

"...Maker. My apologies."

[onlyhymns]

When Mia stumbles, Cade lunges to catch her. He was worried before, but the situation seems to be worsening. "I'll take you home," he says. It's less an offer than a statement of intent; she really shouldn't be doing anything but lying in bed.

[lettersfromhome]

She really shouldn't. That tell-tale flush of a fever is starting to creep into her cheeks, even as she shakes her head in protest.

"I'll manage. I just...tripped over some mud, I'm certain. Clumsy of me." She doesn't want Cade fretting. She doesn't want anyone fretting over her, that's not how any of this works. She's the one meant to take care of them. Even during the Blight, it had been that way.

Home. Skyhold was home, now. That little room she shared with Zevran was home, as much as anything was anymore.

[onlyhymns]

In general, Cade accepts where he stands in the social ladder of Skyhold-- which is to say, at the very bottom, perhaps in a hole beneath it. He has no authority to tell anyone what to do. And yet...
"Please," he insists, "let me take you to bed." His phrasing is off, and he realizes it too late. "PUT YOU--" he stammers, "IN. Bed. Take you. ..." His face reddens as he grows more and more flustered. "...you should lie down," he says at last, defeatedly.

[lettersfromhome]

If she were in a better state, she might be hiding a laugh or two as his endearing fumbles. As it is, she only shakes her head again and tries to straighten where she stands.

"I'm not ill. I can't be ill, there's far too much to do to lie around being ill."

Rutherford stubbornness at work. Poor Cade has his work cut out for him, but Mia is rather looking like a strong gust of wind might bowl her over.

[onlyhymns]

It's probably a blessing for both of them that she didn't notice. If nothing else, it keeps Cade from descending into an apologetic heap.
He does smile a little at her assertions, but in a strained, empathetic way. "I'm not sure you have a choice," he says gently, then adds, "where do you stay?"

[lettersfromhome]

She gestures towards one end of the castle. "We've...got private chambers, now. I had my things moved." One hand plants against the side of her head as she tries to focus, squinting through the rain before giving an annoyed huff.

"It's in that direction. Hopefully he didn't set any of the traps today."

[onlyhymns]

Cade's smile dwindles. "...traps?"

He's not sure who the 'he' is that she's referring to, but is now abruptly concerned that this is going to end badly for him. He glances around, furtively-- is there anyone staring, anyone who might think he's hurt her? He's learned that he can never be too cautious.

Still, he has a job to do. Cade shuffles Mia in the direction she indicated, muttering a quiet prayer under his breath: Maker, please let them get there without either one coming to any harm.

...but mostly Mia.