Fade Rift Mods (
faderifting) wrote in
faderift2016-09-09 11:01 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Kingsway Rifter Arrival
WHO: New rifters & their rescuers
WHAT: People fall out of a rift and get attacked by stuff
WHEN: Kingsway 8
WHERE: The coast of the Waking Sea in northern Orlais, just west of the mountains.
NOTES: 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
WHEN: Kingsway 8
WHERE: The coast of the Waking Sea in northern Orlais, just west of the mountains.
NOTES: 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, you're plunged down through warm, sticky sea air and full-body into salt water. It's shallow enough to stand and keep your head above the rolling waves--but you'll need to do more than that to live. Overhead, there's a flaring, shifting, green-lit tear in reality. Around you, there are a number of ghastly figures: some float above, hooded and rasping, poised to freeze the sea around you if you don't get out of it quickly enough, while others are spindly monstrosities that burst up from the sand and rocks beneath your feet and scream as they emerge from the water. Whatever arrived with you floats in the waves, slowly pushed toward the shore, or sinks beneath the surface. It may be wisest to leave it for now and collect it when the area is slightly less demon-infested.
To add to your troubles, there's a narrow splinter of light in the same sickly green as whatever brought you here, now glowing out of the palm of your left hand. It aches, a bone-deep pain that gnaws even through all the distractions.
But there's help, on the shore.
In this world, you're plunged down through warm, sticky sea air and full-body into salt water. It's shallow enough to stand and keep your head above the rolling waves--but you'll need to do more than that to live. Overhead, there's a flaring, shifting, green-lit tear in reality. Around you, there are a number of ghastly figures: some float above, hooded and rasping, poised to freeze the sea around you if you don't get out of it quickly enough, while others are spindly monstrosities that burst up from the sand and rocks beneath your feet and scream as they emerge from the water. Whatever arrived with you floats in the waves, slowly pushed toward the shore, or sinks beneath the surface. It may be wisest to leave it for now and collect it when the area is slightly less demon-infested.
To add to your troubles, there's a narrow splinter of light in the same sickly green as whatever brought you here, now glowing out of the palm of your left hand. It aches, a bone-deep pain that gnaws even through all the distractions.
But there's help, on the shore.
no subject
no subject
"Sweeping the secret under the rug, right?" he asks, shrugging dismissively and shaking his head.
"Doesn't bother me, any. Feels like home, maybe. All Guardians live in the Tower and other outposts. We almost never enter civilian spaces. Just our own social spaces and battlefields. Occasionally somewhere else for, I dunno, diplomatic stuff," he mumbles, looking thoughtfully at the stew before giving it a taste. He'd tried food a few times, but never made consistent effort to eat. The flavors were exciting, at least.
"I'll probably join. If they're the good guys."
no subject
"Well you can see for yourself soon. Watch us closely, be judgy, that sort of thing." She smirks a little because she's trying to be funny, but the Inquisition isn't immune to judgmental people. She's simply learned that the more you care about what others think of you, the more they can hurt you.
"I'll let you eat. I have to check in with some others. All right?"
no subject
"I'm not all that judgy, though. I'm sure you guys will be fine, if you're the ones fixing the sky holes and helping the displaced people. Can't be that bad, at any rate; got ladies like you working for them, right?" he laughs, reaching up and scratching the long flop of his dark hair.
"Don't be a stranger," he adds before turning back to his stew, tilting the bowl side to side and watching the bits float.