Fade Rift Mods (
faderifting) wrote in
faderift2016-07-07 10:54 pm
Entry tags:
You can't concern yourself with bigger things
WHO: New rifters & their helpful rescuers
WHAT: People fall out of a rift and get attacked by stuff, it's pretty old hat by now (sorry Jefferson).
WHEN: Solace 7
WHERE: High in the Frostbacks, within a day of Skyhold.
NOTES: This log is open to any characters who would have volunteered to go welcome the rifters, whose arrival sites can now be predicted, thank you Solas. Rifters are also welcome to begin RPing at Skyhold as soon as they are ready.
WHAT: People fall out of a rift and get attacked by stuff, it's pretty old hat by now (sorry Jefferson).
WHEN: Solace 7
WHERE: High in the Frostbacks, within a day of Skyhold.
NOTES: This log is open to any characters who would have volunteered to go welcome the rifters, whose arrival sites can now be predicted, thank you Solas. Rifters are also welcome to begin RPing at Skyhold as soon as they are ready.
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.
In this world, something has definitely died. But not you; not yet. When the afterimage left by a flare of too-bright, greenish light fades, you will find yourself in a pile of bones, stripped by teeth and weather, bleached almost as white as the snow that covers most of the rocky, mountainous terrain around you. Beneath its threadbare blanket, it's easy to pick out heaps of earth and stone and debris arranged in a rough ring-shape on the ground around you and the rift that just spat you out. Almost like...a nest? Whatever might once have lived here, it must have been very large, because the bones scattered about are the size of large livestock, at the least. Some of the bare rocks show what look like marks from very large claws, and where snow doesn't cover, the stone looks suspiciously scorched. There are no recent tracks, but maybe that's a good thing.
Less good: the cluster of demons that is emerging from the rift to take over the job of killing you. Some are tall, spindly stick-things with too many eyes, some hunched and hooded with no eyes at all, others mere wisps of greenish light. None look friendly or familiar. Also unfamiliar is the narrow splinter of light the same sickly green as whatever brought you here that now glows out of the palm of your left hand. It aches, a bone-deep pain that gnaws even through all the distractions. Hopefully you can set it aside enough to pick up a bone club and get to work in self-defense, because there is no immediate sign of road or path or settlement anywhere to be seen.
In this world, something has definitely died. But not you; not yet. When the afterimage left by a flare of too-bright, greenish light fades, you will find yourself in a pile of bones, stripped by teeth and weather, bleached almost as white as the snow that covers most of the rocky, mountainous terrain around you. Beneath its threadbare blanket, it's easy to pick out heaps of earth and stone and debris arranged in a rough ring-shape on the ground around you and the rift that just spat you out. Almost like...a nest? Whatever might once have lived here, it must have been very large, because the bones scattered about are the size of large livestock, at the least. Some of the bare rocks show what look like marks from very large claws, and where snow doesn't cover, the stone looks suspiciously scorched. There are no recent tracks, but maybe that's a good thing.
Less good: the cluster of demons that is emerging from the rift to take over the job of killing you. Some are tall, spindly stick-things with too many eyes, some hunched and hooded with no eyes at all, others mere wisps of greenish light. None look friendly or familiar. Also unfamiliar is the narrow splinter of light the same sickly green as whatever brought you here that now glows out of the palm of your left hand. It aches, a bone-deep pain that gnaws even through all the distractions. Hopefully you can set it aside enough to pick up a bone club and get to work in self-defense, because there is no immediate sign of road or path or settlement anywhere to be seen.

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There's some time to figure it out, at least. With Korrin drawing the demons' attentions, Dany is free to puzzle over what is happening and what the images could mean for her. She thinks of other dreams, of the enormous dragon, of whispers of her son. Pain seizes her heart at the memory, but she pushes through, focuses intently on the now, mantra repeating endlessly in the back of her mind. If I look back, I am lost.
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"When all the demons are gone, you can help close the rift! We'll get all the people with shards together--" And the stunning effect wears off freeing one of the terror demons Korrin didn't get to kill. It promptly phases over and knocks the Vashoth mage flat on her back, just as predicted. "Fuck!" Her blade goes out, but her barrier holds, in time for her to get back on her feet. Almost over...right?
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"It... isn't--" She grasps at words, shaking her head, but the stranger is on her feet again. Dany sighs with relief, staring hard at the remaining demon. It had leaped as if from within the ground, just as she'd said. What am I seeing?
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"Wait a moment, then the rift will start to collapse to the point where you can help close it! It'll sound like breaking glass--"
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"Who are you?" she asks finally, starting with a simple question rather than one of the many, more baffling ones that she has sitting at the tip of her tongue.
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"How did he manage all that?" she asks, once she finds her voice. "How could anyone cut a hole into the sky?"
He's dangerous, obviously, and she feels panic strike at her heart all over again.
"What is a 'Vashoth mage?'" she asks tentatively.
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As Korrin rambles, she looks around supply cart brought with them, and roots around in it, before finding what she was seeking. One of Asher's thick bear slankets, handing it over. "Here, before you freeze. The Frostbacks aren't any place to walk around that exposed."
And on to the next answers. "Vashoth is...well, it's not the overall term for my race because there isn't one, but it'll do. You'll also hear 'qunari' which is common but incorrect. As for being a mage, you saw the energies I channeled. Pulling that stuff out of nowhere is what mages -humans, elves and 'qunari' alike- are born to do."
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She really is in another world, that much is clear.
"Thank you," she says slowly, though her thoughts are far from the cold. Then come more words, more unfamiliar phrases, and she swallows, feeling more alone now than ever.
"Vashoth," Dany repeats, violet eyes trained on Korrin. "I've never heard of your race before."
Or seen any of them, not in Essos, at least, where you might expect to see the vastly unexpected.
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"I'd be more astonished if you did, to be honest. Humans and elves seem to be everywhere, dwarves to some extent, but my kin might just be a Thedosian thing. It's alright, I expect questions and if you're too frazzled to remember it all now, I don't mind repeating myself."
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"There are no elves or dwarves, either." Not that she's seen. Magic, yes, of some kinds, but only humans live in their world (she believes).
"I..." Silver brows come together; she's torn between wanting to ask an endless stream of questions and wanting to sleep for a long, long time. As such, she merely sighs shortly, finally settling: "I need some time to think."
To decide whether or not she can accept any of this as real. The Targaryen glances at her hand, at the sliver of green at her palm. Can it possibly be real? Any of it?
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She nods, understanding the need for time. Being yanked into a rift and spat out of it can't do anything but overwhelm someone. Her gaze flickers to that shard, sympathetic. "I know it hurts, but from what everyone else who has those has told me, it ought to fade in a few hours. The pain, not the shard. That's not going away."
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"Not ever?" That's news, of course, and her violet eyes widen in surprise... and a little fear. "How do you know?"
The same way that Korrin knows everything else about this world - her world - Dany assumes. At least the pain will fade.
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"I see." A fair answer and a helpful one. "Thank you."
Korrin has done more than enough for her, so the Targaryen shifts, looking almost restless in her movements.
"I... think that I need some time to think," she says finally, brows scrunched over a weary expression. "Thank you, again, for protecting me and for answering my questions."