faderift | AUGUST RIFTER ARRIVAL

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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.

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.

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Rey doesn't quite remember falling asleep, but she remembers waking up. The bite of snow against her face causes the briefest flash of panic, that she's still on the Starkiller base, that she's running out of time. It passes, and confusion sets in as she pushes herself to her feet, eyes drawn first to the green rift.

The creatures advancing cause her to suck a breath in, she's never seen anything like them before. But she can tell they aren't friendly and won't be interested in talking. Her hand fumbles for the bag hanging at her side and she draws out what- to any casual observer- would appear to be an odd silver cylinder. She hits the ignition button on it, but when nothing happens she stares at it, panic setting in again. She hits the button again, and again it fails.

"Oh that's not good," she mutters, before shoving the useless lightsaber back in her bag. Luckily, she can feel the weight of her staff, still strapped to her back, and she unhooks it, swinging it around and holding it in front of her, widening her stance and avoiding looking too close at the long drop not too far away.

"I'm giving you all one chance to stay away from us!" She yells at the advancing creatures, with a lot more bravado than she's currently feeling.

Edited 2016-08-11 04:30 (UTC)

Vasran had known what to expect when the rift had opened. They all had: rifters are old news now, and demons even more so. Seeing it is something else altogether. Vasran feels a thrill in her blood when the rift sparks and sputters, and takes off toward the figures that appear on the ground, knowing the demons won't be far behind. By the time she's arrived at Rey's side, she's drawn her own staff, electric energy crackling on the end of it.

"Prepare to fight," she warns. "They won't listen to reason."

In a flicker of green, one of the spindly terror demons sinks into the ground. Under the snow, beneath their feet, the earth starts to glow.

"Look out!" Vasran reaches for Rey's arm, aiming to pull or push her out of the way before the demon leaps up.

It was a nightmare again. The Crawler and its children, swarming around him, taunting him with his own weakness and useless. The Children darted in and swung at him, then darted back, but they never hit hard enough to injure him. Just enough to hurt, to frighten, to wear him down.

Eventually he panicked and broke, running, running, running, swinging his sword wildly at the shadows in his path. In the pitch black, he tumbled over a cliff, cartwheeling in the air. It was almost peaceful.

Then he hit the ground with a shout and a flash of green light, tumbling ass-over-teakettle down a hillside. Still shaken from the dream and half-convinced he was bleeding in a dozen places, he couldn't get purchase against the ice to slow himself, and he tumbled right over the edge of the cliff, grabbing a firm hold of it with both hands and dangling.

Well, shit.

Logan took in a deep breath, calling on the booming king voice that could fill the throne room as he called up to whoever might be above. "Help!"

The glimpses he'd caught of the demons were not comforting, but that was preferable to certain death on the ground below. He had not looked down, and did not intend to.

The rift certainly picked a rude location to deposit others new to this world. It's a bit amusing, actually. The Outsider has gone out of curiosity, and because his abilities can be of use. When he hears the cry for help, there's a glance around, and then he moves. He cannot teleport, exactly, but he can do something similar to a Fade Step and so he does, right to the edge of the cliff.

He looks down, almost as pale as the snow and eyes black. It takes only a moment to recognize what is going on, and then he crouches. One hand takes this man's in his own and the other is extended, the green light of his shard reflecting off the snow.

"When you feel it, pull yourself up."

'It' becomes apparent almost immediately: the pull of magic, telekinesis, pulling the man upward. His hand is more there to steady them both than anything else; he is stronger than he looks, because he is not a teenage boy, but magic is still his preferred form of strength.

The wind in the mountains often blows fiercely, loudly. It very suddenly howls, and if Rey is especially in tune, she'll be able to tell that it isn't natural wind; it blows in a different direction, and it slams directly into some of the demons approaching her. It smells different, too; like sea salt, the wind over the ocean and not the mountain air.

The source makes itself known rather quickly; he may look like a teenager, but the Outsider is all confidence as he moves forward, sword in one hand and the other raised to blast the creatures with more wind.

"They do not comprehend, in this realm," he informs her, all-black eyes not budging from his targets. "Those that do are far more dangerous."

She couldn't recall any dreams before finding herself here, on the ground, backed up against sturdy rock, with too much fear for her to even move an inch. As if finding herself sliding down an icy path wasn't enough to make her heart go into overdrive, her eyes were now fixed on the frighting creatures. Whatever this was must have been a dream. A sick, twisted, drug induced dream. Because as far as she knows last thing she recalls is being taken in to patch up her bullet wound. Thankfully, she didn't feel it hurt her, must have healed already, either that or the adrenaline was blocking off the pain receptors. What replaced it was the pain in her hand, which she couldn't make sense of, but the pain was enough to snap her out of her horrified state and promptly reach for her gun... Which wasn't there.

"Merde" she muttered under her breath, biting her bottom lip nervously.

What was one supposed to do in a situation like this? The only logical thing she could think of was staying completely still, as to not catch their attention, treating them like wild animals. Not that she had the choice of running away honestly, she wasn't the fastest runner and heels aren't really the most appropriate footwear for ice.

And here Church thought the last place Rifters popped up was bad. This is worse. What next, dropping them off inside an active volcano? But he's determined to go, as he is always determined to go, and lend a hand to the Rifters, the people like him, the people he wants to help defend in a world that would mostly just like to see them burnt at a stake or beheaded or something else fucking awful.

At least he's starting to get better at literally everything that involves physically climbing places. And swinging his sword. He still practices with the crossbow, of course, but even though it's a lot more dangerous, he actually can admit that he hits things with a sword a lot more often.

Staying still doesn't protect her from attack, but it does make her less of a priority. Church pulls himself to her as quickly as he can anyway, raising a hand to block a bolt of sickly green energy with a small shield of his own...sickly green energy, wow, detecting a theme here huh. The last thing they need is for some errant attack to make someone go sliding right off the edge. (It's like fucking Sidewinder all over again; he hates that place.) He shakes out his hand, hissing a little for using his shard, but beckons with the other.

"Okay, this is all really scary, but I gotta know right now, can you fight? It's okay if you don't, I'm not making anyone do fucking flips and tricks and awesome shit on a god damn ice cliff."

She watched as the unfamiliar, but not as unusual, person made their way to her. Eyes showing a mix of fear and curiousity. He was either coming closer to help, or to attack, she's trying to hang onto hope and tell herself it was the latter. Once she realized he wasn't a threat, and was there to help she let out a heavy sigh she didn't know she was holding, a hand pushing back her dishevelled hair.

"Merci," she offered him a strained, but genuine, smile before continuing. "I'm afraid I won't be the best help in this situation, you needn't put yourself in danger for me" the last thing she needs is someone getting hurt because of her. That scares her far more than those strange looking creatures.

"I might have an idea, though" a pause as she checks her pocket for her lighter, and she nods to herself, rather pleased to find that at least she had that on her. "Have anything flammable?" she asked, bringing up her lighter for him to see, and gives it a small flick to ignite it, momentarily, just to get the point across.

Logan clasped the Outsider's forearm tightly, his hand squeezing hard enough to bruise. He realized he didn't much need it, though, as some force supported him enough to pull himself up. It was still harder than he wanted it to be, but he was sprawling on the snow in short order, stunned but still trying to pull himself up before the cold and wet soaked into his clothing.

He drew his sword, still unsteady, as he spotted a shade coming for them. He stared at it, trying to make his brain understand. It wasn't one of the Children, but it wasn't a Guardian either. What new trick of the Crawler's was this? And why couldn't he hear its voice? That could only mean it was lying in wait.

A sword was good, at least. Standing and staring wasn't, and while the situation is certainly intense, one of high action, the Outsider sighs as if this happens every day. (To be fair, it likely does in Thedas, but it isn't as though it happens to him every day.) He draws his own sword in one hand and lashes out with magic, wind buffeting the shade.

"They will not hesitate to kill you." His hand drops and he tilts his head, looking toward Logan. "Or those that have some semblance of thought in this realm will attempt to destroy you by other means. Be careful when you dream."

As if that makes any sense at all, but he does his equivalent of a Fade Step to appear behind the shade and stab his sword through its chest. Once it dies, it crumbles into ash at his feet.

Oh wow, someone French who is, probably, actually French or French-adjacent! Not Orlais-French, but honest to god FrenchieFrench. And she has a lighter, which means she's from at least somewhat modern times. Modern-ish. Modern enough to just carry lighters around. But hell they still have lighters in the 26th century, so.

"...I mean I...have a shirt you could set on fire, and while I'm pretty flattered at the idea of stripping in front of a lady on first sight, maybe we should get a drink first." Church no.

Give her a moment to process that, and the moment it clicked that he was definitely making a pass at her it showed on her face. There's a mix of amusement and disbelief, because in this situation is this really appropriate? They literally just met, she appreciated the humor in it, at least.

"Hate to break it to you but I'm not.." a pause, single? She is, but it didn't mean her heart wasn't was completely preoccupied, so that word wouldn't fit. "Available" accompanied with an awkward smile. She needed to change the subject, it wasn't the right to dwell on this.

"I was hoping to distract them or at least cause significant damage, because other than that I doubt I'll be of any use".

"I didn't actually mean--I mean, that's literally all I have on me that's flammable. At least I didn't say my pants." Please don't take that any farther. "So, um, real quick before we need to get the heck out of here because of extradimensional demons, this place you fell into is hella medieval? No gasoline, no aerosol cans, and sadly I didn't think to bring up a broom or a bundle of twigs to light up the night. In fact I am really glad to see a lighter at all. God I love technology. But hey, no worries, Church at your service to protect you from the evil monsters and, y'know, generally be dashing and awesome."

Don't worry, she won't, but there is a very small chuckle. She would be completely lost by the word "hella" if it wasn't for a certain dreadlocked clone, which she was thankful for, because the rest of the man's words made no sense to her. She takes a moment, no, she's still convinced this isn't real, just a very vivid and strange dreams.

She isn't completely following him and is instead going through possible causes for this odd hallucination.

"Could be intravenous opioids..." it would make sense, considering she was healing from a bullet wound and all. She's definitely muttering to herself, but after a quick nod to herself, agreeing to her own conclusion she looks back at him. Confusion still obvious on her face, the initial fear she was in has subsided now that her logical thinking has settled in. "What's your plan?"

Edited 2016-08-13 18:35 (UTC)

Rey's moving even as Vasran grabs her, she knows well enough not to stand still on glowing earth. Both of their momentums results in Rey half stumbling backwards, narrowly avoiding falling over by digging her staff into the ground behind her, and also avoiding getting pitched back by the demon as it springs forth from the ground.

She's wide-eyed and stunned for half a beat before she glances at the woman who came to her aide, bringing her staff back up.

"Do they have a weakness?"

She noticed the shift in the wind, but isn't really focused enough to pinpoint how out of place it is, until the source appears. She hasn't seen much by way of fantastic powers, beyond her own. Even those she doesn't quite understand. She's definitely gawking a little at the Outsider, forgetting for a moment that there are dangerous creatures advancing on them.

When he talks, that reminds her, of course.

"Well, these ones look plenty dangerous," Rey replies, somewhat dryly, before tightening her grip on her staff, wincing a little as the persistent pain in her left hand flares, something she'd attributed to falling hard and hadn't had a chance to examine.

It made plenty of sense to Logan -- his dreams had been fraught for years.

Seeing that the creatures could be killed jarred Logan into action a little, and he swung his sword at another that was approaching. It made a swipe at him, easily ducked, and Logan swung again, feeling his sword slice and meet that firm-but-yielding resistance. He was a little rusty, perhaps, but he'd never really been an idle king. He knew what he was doing with a blade.

"Weak to certain magics." Vasran slams the butt of her staff on the ground, and a burst of electricity crackles toward the creature, making it flinch — though it's a long way from falling. Vasran glances toward the staff in the human's hands. Normally, she would assume she was dealing with a fellow mage, but many of the rifters are not of this world. So who knows?

"Barring that, hitting them works well enough." She manages to get that out while the terror demon takes one long, loping step toward them, raising a clawed hand to strike.

"If you're tripping on some drugs now, I am especially sorry for your predicament." Because this must be like some really bad bad acid trip in that case. "The plan is...generally I get to be dashing and vaguely helpful, occasionally protect you guys that fell from the rift, maybe do some stabbing, and mostly let the heavy hitters do the heavy hitting." The flash of magic around them sure is a thing. God, wouldn't everything be so much easier if he had magic?!

"If you see anything glowing green under your feet, run." Those spindly tall creepy bastards are generally not to be fucked with. "I can shield you from some of the worst of shit flung at us, but it's definitely better to try and stay low and out of the way." Good thing there are just. like. so many places to go to up here on the icy cliff of bullshit, right?

Rey was about to shoot the other woman an incredulous look at the mention of magic, when the lightning lanced out from her. She knew people believed in some magical forces, and the Force had a mystical edge, but she'd never seen someone create lightning before.

She can't express her surprise or awe, however, as the pressing matter of the demon coming at them presents itself. Moving quickly Rey swings her staff up, blocking the creature's claw, before she rakes it down, slamming the end into what passes as the creature's torso, driving it back.

"Hitting I can do," she breathes through gritted teeth.

"Dangerous physically, perhaps," he responds. The wind blasts one shade back and off the cliff; it falls with an inhuman scream. A terror demon vanishes beneath the snow and the Outsider scowls, turning on his heel, scanning the drifts. "Better than in your mind."

The terror demon is playing mind games now, hidden -- and then he sees the green glow beneath his feet and uses his own teleport-Fade Step to return to Rey's side as it bursts out of the ground. Let it flounder, then they can strike.

Not useless in battle was good, at least, for the moment. Another strikes at the Outsider and he blocks it with his blade, pushing back with physical and magical force. The edge of the cliff is still behind the new rifter, and while he isn't certain that the demons are intelligent enough to use it, it's a consideration.

"Push toward the rift -- the glowing portion in the sky."

The sooner this is over, the better.

That comment about better than in your mind gets the briefest of looks from Rey, a pause in the midst of battle. She knows what it's like, to have someone else in her mind, and it's a little peculiar to her for that to come out of the blue. It's a skill she'd never heard of, before her run-in with Kylo Ren.

Her attention is drawn away from the Outsider however as one of the wisps floats a little too close, one of it's spirit projectiles aimed in her direction. She deflects it, before swinging her staff through it, the spirit fading without putting up much of a fight. With that minor annoyance dissipated she turns back to the demon that had burst from the ground, her staff moving like an extension of her arm as she strikes out, keeping low from those claws, aiming instead for it's spindly legs to knock it off balance.

If he notices, he says nothing. He doesn't know about her past, doesn't know about her future. He knows what is now, and while that's certainly different than his own world, it is something he's getting used to. It's a warning that counts either way.

Rey goes for the legs and the Outsider stabs forward, above her arm, for its torso. He uses the gravity of the demon falling to move with the stroke, to embed his sword deeper into it. He has to pull back as it falls, taking his sword with him to readjust his stance; it should give Rey room to strike again.

It's somewhat jarring, fighting with assistance. Rey is used to fighting alone. Even when she'd had others with her recently, all her battles had been on her own. She'd been trying to come up with where her next hit would land when the Outsider stabs the creature above her, and then gives her room to strike again.

She adapts easily enough, spinning her staff around and slamming it into the creature's torso, not sure if it has bones to break but hearing a satisfying crack all the same.

Narrowly avoiding a sweep of its she dances backwards, holding her staff out and to the side.

"It's getting slower!"

Logan kicked and swing at another of the creatures, trying to hold it off, then did as instructed, taking the sword in his weaker hand and pushing the strong one toward the sky, with the ache radiating down his arm.

To his utter shock, the mark seemed to interact with the glowing tear in the sky. Logan watched in awe as it did its work, just doing his best to hold his arm steady. The mark, whatever it was doing, wanted to toss and jerk around, like trying to hold the wrong sides of two magnets together.

Good, because Vasran is not particularly skilled or experienced with barriers — in fact, it only now occurs to her to conjure one up, blue energy crackling to life in the air around them. That will hold and protect them... for a moment.

"I'll keep it distracted!" She's taking one step back, and another, putting distance between herself and the demon, but firing off electric bursts from her staff as she goes. The demon takes one long step toward her, for the moment more interested in the one retreating than the one that can hit it.

She nods, taking note of his warning. She felt like she has asked enough questions than what would be considered polite so she saves her thoughts for later, when they aren't in danger of being "killed". She wasn't exactly sure what the best line of action was, her mind wasn't the best on a battlefield, if she was farther away, however, she would have been able to take in the fuller picture.

Seems like laying low, was, after all the best she could do. Wait this out until it was safer to move. Or maybe...

"Would it help if I were to distract them? It would be easier for you to help the others that way" simply said, because that's how she is. Wouldn't be the first time she's put herself in the line of danger, after all, not that she considers this dangerous because she's in complete denial. Monsters, magic, being sent back to some medieval period just doesn't make any logical sense.

Shino would love to pretend he has an excellent sense of what was going on right now. Between the unexpected swan dive into winter, to the ache in the wrong arm, to the utter silence and feeling of sensory deprivation that accompanies his stunned realisation that he's utterly without Murasame (or his curse), he's lost.

Lost and sliding, redirecting himself through force of willpower and a well timed shove upward leads him barreling right into one of the advancing demons, sword clearing sheath in time to counter the flail of a clawed arm.

"I don't think they're listening!"

Granted, he hadn't given them the same chance, but the trajectory of his fall hadn't allowed him the option. With a momentary smile and a lasting look of serious concentration, Shino struggles to find footing on the ice and snow at the narrow pass, slicing upward and fending off the nearest demon on the attack.

Questions are cool and also very understandable! Maybe not all when the demons are getting antsy and attack-y. Maybe after that. After that's a better time. He can pencil her in then.

"Wh--I'm sorry, you, the one who just plopped into this world, with no immediate fighting skills to think of, you want to run around and distract them? Make yourself a target? Fuck no. Just--if you do anything, think of it like a first person shooter, dodge anything that comes at you. It'll hurt. Or make you go careening off the edge of the map, and spoiler alert, you don't just respawn."

There's a small wry chuckle at his words, this wouldn't be the first time she's put herself in the cross hairs. With that she brought herself up, grunting at the slight pain from the pain in her abdomen, which just brought more irony to this situation. She looked down at her heels for a moment, trying to weigh which was better; kicking them off and possibly getting frost bitten or keeping them off and possibly stumbling to her "death"?

It took her a moment, but she kicked off the heels, lent down and cut a pieces of cloth from her already disheveled suit pants and tied them around her feet. Might not be the same as the warmth of her shoes, but at least it offered some protection from the ice.

She stood upright and gave him a stern look, smile gone and whatever this was she wasn't planning on playing the victim or the coward. "If not that than so be it, but I won't run and have you protect me" a pause "have any weapons on you? if anything I'll defend myself and you go help the others" she wasn't completely helpless, she can vaguely fight.

Until Thedas, the Outsider had not fought much at all. Still, muscle memory kicks in, as do centuries of watching. He's better now than he was, more used to the weaponry of Thedas and how this world has changed his magic. Fighting with another has happened because that is what this world tends to require, but the staff is new.

"If it vanishes again, move."

There are other demons as well, but so far they're engaged with other matters or are little more than translucent wraiths -- dangerous, but not as dangerous.

"We must move past them to the rift -- the glowing green in the sky -- or more will keep coming."

Another blast of magical wind forces the other demons back even more, and the Outsider lifts his hand as well. Two of them may not be enough, but if nothing else they should be able to disrupt it until others with shards can come and assist.

"Work with the magic; when it pushes, push, and when it pulls, hold. We can close it, can prevent others from emerging."

He is a poorer teacher than Galadriel, but he's the one who's here. Hopefully the new rifter understands.

He watches her kick her shoes off and then...just...just start ripping at her clothes and wrapping her feet up, which, honestly, that's a really good idea on multiple fronts? But he's honestly pretty fascinated by the blase attitude she seems to be sporting about landing in another dimension. Sure, denial is a river in Egypt, but like...

"...I got this sword, lady, and that's about all I was dragging up this godforsaken mountain. Okay, look, be a distraction, get roasted by magical fireballs or whatever, I'll run out and do some sword-whacking, and really try really hard to not die. I like people that fall out of rifts, generally. Being one myself. So...yeah, maybe don't die. Good pep talk, three two one let's go."

She gave him a satisfied nod, taking a deep breath to brace herself. She's never put herself in this situation, not exactly. But it won't be the first time she's stared death in the face.

"I'll do my best not to" a pause, she combed her hair back before continuing, "as long as you don't "sword-whack" me" her accent was really showing there, obviously unfamiliar with the slang. To her this honestly felt more like a game and the adrenaline rush she was experiencing didn't help much, there was almost something playful about her demeanor here. She's got too much of a scientific mind to even begin to believe this whole situation, so of course, she's denying it actually happening.

She must own that river.

Hopefully Church is ready, because right after giving him a quick glance she ran, waving her arm to catch the attention of the now awfully close creatures, her other arm wrapped around her abdomen. She decided to ignore the ever present dull pain for now, but instinctively kept pressure on the injury. It wasn't bleeding out, or even that fatal now, but it wasn't completely healed either.

Okay, cool, just run out into the middle of everything, injured, shoeless, and unfamiliar with the world. Sure, yeah, Church had said go do it after telling her it was stupid, and it's still stupid, but he hunkered down for a few moments, trying to will himself into the background while attention was gathered.

One of those tall spindly scary motherfuckers who like to pop up right under feet took notice to her, and before it could decide to do its shiny 'melt into the ground' trick, Church leapt out and drew his blade right across its middle in a surprise attack. It screamed, screamed in one of those terrifying, ear-shattering ways, and whirled. He ducked and was mostly out of the way anyway. Now its attention was split. Maybe they could keep pulling that move. He didn't keep up the attack, moving to a different distracted target and running it through, too. Distract them all and scatter. This is...not the kind of plan the Blues would've come up with, and yet, it's still just as dangerous and suicidal. Huh. Tucker might be proud in a horrified kind of way.

Rey stops it's advance, slamming her staff into it with more force than a thin creature like her might be expected to produce. She's been fighting her whole life, and while she may not be an expert with her lightsaber, the staff is an old friend.

She ducks low when it rakes one of it's long hands at her, and twists out of its way, before coming right back in and slamming her staff across the back of its legs. If it weren't a creature created from the Fade, she would have broken it's legs.

One of the shocks from Vasran's staff flies past the demon's head as it doubles over from that first strike, but then the next one hits, and the next... the demon roars, and Vasran sends one more large electric burst its way — but it's already vanished, sunk again into the ground.

The earth beneath her feet starts to glow, and Vasran scrambles to get out of the way. When she turns, it's with a sweep of a hand, and a ball of flame engulfs the creature momentarily. It staggers, the first flecks of green light crumbling off its craggy limbs.

She'd just been about to strike again when the demon disappeared, her staff swinging through empty air. Rey stumbles a few steps, losing her bearings for a moment until she hears the crackle of flames behind her. Letting out a curse she turns and closes the distance.

"That's a dirty trick!" she growls, using her momentum from running the distance to plant her staff and launch herself feet-first into the demon's back, slamming it down into the snow. She moves quickly away from it again, not wanting to give it the chance to throw her off the side of the mountain.

The demon starts to rise, but at the same time, its long limbs are melting away into light, as it falls back into the rift. It lets out one final, dying scream before it's gone. One less on the battlefield.

"That's demons for you," Vasran remarks. Dirty tricks all the way down.

She holds her staff with both hands, and fires off a volley toward one of the floating, wispy spirits. Just for good measure.

"All right?" she directs at the other woman. She seems able to handle herself more than well enough, but it's worth it to check.

Rey spares a glance away from the demon to the aforementioned rift, not knowing much besides she thinks that's where she came from.

"What exactly do we do when we get to it?" Because she is on board with the idea of stopping more creatures from showing up, but it's a gaping hole in the sky. She didn't exactly have tutorials about this on her computer simulators.

All of the green was certainly a good indicator that it was, at least. It's what the others say, but how they ended up in the Fade (no matter how briefly) and then out of the rift was another question entirely.

"The shard in your hand reacts to it. We can use them to force it to close." There is a lift of his own glowing hand to demonstrate, the green just as bright and alien-seeming in the snow. "If you have no experience with magic, it will likely feel strange. Envision it as something else, and that may help."

The demons, however, are as they are -- he doesn't need to imagine them being anything else. They are threats, and they are annoying, and he stabs once more.

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AUGUST RIFTER ARRIVAL

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Logan | Fable 3

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(w o w xD)

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sorry this is late! lmk if it's too late /thumbs up!

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