Fade Rift Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
faderifting) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
faderift2016-08-10 11:17 pm
faderifting) wrote in faderift2016-08-10 11:17 pm
Entry tags:
AUGUST RIFTER ARRIVAL
WHO: New rifters & their rescuers
WHAT: People fall out of a rift and get attacked by stuff, as usual
WHEN: August 10
WHERE: Somewhere high in the Frostbacks but not so far from Skyhold
NOTES: This month, the arrival log is open to all. Solas was able to alert the Inquisition to the general area where the new rifters would be arriving so people could be sent to pick them up.
WHAT: People fall out of a rift and get attacked by stuff, as usual
WHEN: August 10
WHERE: Somewhere high in the Frostbacks but not so far from Skyhold
NOTES: This month, the arrival log is open to all. Solas was able to alert the Inquisition to the general area where the new rifters would be arriving so people could be sent to pick them up.
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, when the afterimage left by a flare of too-bright, greenish light fades, you will find yourself already moving again, rolling or sliding down a steep, icy slope. You're not moving fast--not yet--but it's steep enough that you could if not careful to stop and catch your balance and find your footing. It's a precarious spot: the mountainside drops off for hundreds of feet below, and the only path out is a narrow rocky ledge that inches around and down to safety.
Access to that path is blocked by the rift itself, splitting the air between where you and several others have fallen and the start of that path. The cluster of demons emerging from the rift seem at odds with the setting. Some are tall, spindly stick-things with too many eyes who seem like they should tumble down the hill in a tangle of limbs but instead sink into the snow to anchor themselves and use the long reach of their arms to attack. Some are hunched and hooded with no eyes at all, others mere wisps of greenish light that float over the icy ground. 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.
In this world, when the afterimage left by a flare of too-bright, greenish light fades, you will find yourself already moving again, rolling or sliding down a steep, icy slope. You're not moving fast--not yet--but it's steep enough that you could if not careful to stop and catch your balance and find your footing. It's a precarious spot: the mountainside drops off for hundreds of feet below, and the only path out is a narrow rocky ledge that inches around and down to safety.
Access to that path is blocked by the rift itself, splitting the air between where you and several others have fallen and the start of that path. The cluster of demons emerging from the rift seem at odds with the setting. Some are tall, spindly stick-things with too many eyes who seem like they should tumble down the hill in a tangle of limbs but instead sink into the snow to anchor themselves and use the long reach of their arms to attack. Some are hunched and hooded with no eyes at all, others mere wisps of greenish light that float over the icy ground. 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.