OPEN: Bloomingtide Rifter Arrival

[faderifting]

WHO: New rifters & helpful Inquisition volunteers
WHAT: Welcome to Thedas!
WHEN: Bloomingtide 7
WHERE: The Imperial Highway near Sulcher's Pass
NOTES: This log is slightly backdated, so it's safe to assume safe arrival at Skyhold and begin RPing there as soon as you're ready OOC. It is open to any characters who would have volunteered to go welcome the rifters, whose arrival sites can now be predicted, thank you Solas.

You were asleep—deeply or fitfully, for the last time or just resting your eyes for a moment—and then you were not. And wherever you were was not, anymore, replaced by nothing but the sensation of falling, tumbling into endless, bottomless nothing. If this were still a dream, you would wake before you hit the ground. You can't die in a dream, they say. In some worlds.

But there's no waking here, just a flare of green-white light and a jarring impact onto cold dirt and long grass. When your breath returns and the light's after-image fades from your eyes you will find yourself lying flat on stone, squinting up into sunlight and a shifting, blinding green tear in reality.

You are also not as you were: in the palm of your left hand there glows a narrow splinter of light the same sickly green as whatever brought you here. It aches, a bone-deep pain that gnaws even through all the distractions. Like the fact that you're being attacked. Surrounding you and the rift through which you arrived are five massive beings made of fire and molten, veiny flesh, rearing back to throw flames at anything that breathes. But mind your step, getting out of their way: the stone beneath you is the ruin of the Imperial Highway, elevated high enough that dropping off either side or the crumbled gap ahead will not be much more survivable than the fire.

Luckily, you are not on your own. Around you others are rising from the ground, equally confused, with the same green lights flaring from their hands. And help is already here—prepared, this time, unsurprised by your appearance, with armor and a few extra weapons to hand off if you've come empty-handed.

Comments

[extramural]

Pale fingers wrap around the hilt of the sword and the Outsider offers a slight nod in return before taking it entirely. This, at least, is familiar enough. He wasn't ever classically trained, when he was human, but four thousand years is a long time to watch and learn.

There is just the barest quirk of a smile in Mal's direction before he is moving again, Fade Stepping (Void Stepping, perhaps?) just behind the man, sinking his blade into the body of one of the demons that already has arrows peppering its molten hide. It shrieks and he twists, pulling up toward the 'head', and then withdraws. The demon crumples into ash, still smoldering.

"Is this a common occurrence?" Said in the most idle conversational tone possible.

[aintwejust]

Mal twitches a little at the flurry of shadow and magic and someone at his back he wasn't rightly ready for, whirling and bringing his spear to bear at...a hunk of ash and a jackass with a short sword.

Why. Why are the new ones all so damn creepy?

"Lately? Yep. Aim for center mass and don't let 'em grab ya. Hurts like burning." Jayne barks somewhere off to his left- taking a turn too slow to get out of reach of one of the demons, too far to run. Mal flips his grip on his spear, takes a half step for momentum and hurls. His aim's true enough and it slams through the demon's arm, pinning it in place. "...You wanna throw a rock at that one or somth'n?"

[extramural]

Well, that makes sense. They look like they're burning.

Still, his attention is also drawn by the bark of the dog, for the moment seeming to only focus on there things: the man, the dog, and the demons around them. The others, for the moment, are just background characters. None are quite as interesting as the way the man throws the spear, by the way the demon twists and yet doesn't seem intelligent enough to burn through the wood.

"I can," he muses, tilting his head to look at the demon. Another loose stone comes crashing into the back of the demon, helping embed the spear deeper and making its head jerk forward so that its fire breath hits the ground before it instead of Jayne.

[aintwejust]

"...Nifty trick, that." Magic. Weird ass magic. Mal shakes off the feel'n of creepy crawlies (black eyes, for fuck's sake, that just ain't right) and sprints for the impaled Rage Demon. One day he'll scratch enough coin together to get a proper frost rune on something but for now? Shortsword past the shoulder, cleaving through like cutting custard. Easy with the thing pinned.

Smells like rotten eggs and bile and it's gonna get all over his hands. It takes a (smouldering) boot to the base to haul out his spear and skitter back to find space enough for the next damn demon-

But it's normal.

Ish.

More normal than black eyes.

[extramural]

"Should you lose your spear, you need only shout." Assuming the Outsider decides to listen, but now he's made the offer. It doesn't hurt to court allies when you're in a strange land, and this man did, at least, help him first. It also doesn't necessarily hurt to show to people that he will help but will be a problem if they decide to attack him instead of letting him help.

Of course, the Outsider doesn't know about Templars yet.

The Fade Step that has replaced his teleportation, at least, should be somewhat familiar. He comes out of it just ahead of Mal with borrowed sword swinging, inhuman strength severing a demonic leg in one blow so that Jayne can pounce easier, if he'd like.

[aintwejust]

Well that...sure is a thing. He goes about his fighting with half a mind to the guy and most of a mind on the demons- or the demon he might've taken a swing at if the fella hadn't just popped into being in front of him to do the same.

"Ce que la merde ne va pas avec vous? I coulda hit ya!" Kill thief. Seriously. "That is a mighty fine way to get stabbed when you don't need t'be stabbed!"

[extramural]

"But you didn't." Between the existing injuries and the dog, the demon crumples, one further flick of a sword sending it dissolving into a pile of ash.

"Do you have so little faith in your reflexes?" It's a leading question, probing, but he does, after a moment, take a measure of pity on the man. He was concerned, after all. "I'm harder to injure than it looks."

Harder to severely injure, at least.

[aintwejust]

"And it was a damn near thing!" Seriously. What is with this kid? "I know me well 'nuf. I don't know you and how you fight, 'cept now I know you like squirrl'n about, gett'n in where you could get hit. Keep outta range of the pointy end of this stick, kid."

[extramural]

"You don't want to hit me." It sounds remarkably like he's only just realized that's the case -- in fact, the Outsider tilts his head, studying Mal for a moment. "For me, or for yourself?'

[aintwejust]

"No shit!" He ain't try'n to kill the kid, of course he don't wanna hit him. "If I'm gonna you, you'll be armed and you'll see me com'n!"

Honor, man, it's a thing.

[extramural]

"How generous," he murmurs, but he means it. Honor is not always a thing in the Empire, at least not one that doesn't strike back.

"I will- do my best not to worry you, then."

[aintwejust]

"That's all I ask, shortstack." And hey, demons. More of them. Jayne hauls back into the fray and Mal? Heads back into the fight swing'n.