faderift | Wintermarch Rifter Arrival

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Wintermarch Rifter Arrival

WHO: New rifters and their rescuers
WHAT:
WHEN: Wintermarch 10
WHERE: The Southern Hinterlands
NOTES: This log is backdated intentionally to allow new rifters to also immediately play in Skyhold and have a few days to handwave acclimation and explanations, if you'd like. It's open to rifters and to any Inquisition members who would volunteer to recover them.

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 wake with a jolt when you hit stone, dropped from above by a flaring, crystalline green rip in reality that hangs overhead. Beyond it is blackness--no, if you focus, it's not emptiness, but stone, with the light from the rift reflecting on distant crevices and stalactites. You're underground. And you're not alone. There are two other people on the ground with you, and something with a deep, guttural laugh not far from you.

The source of the laugh is soon lit up with light of its own, arcing purple electricity rippling over a hulking body so large that humans don't quite reach its hip. It's the only demon here, but it isn't going to go down easily. And the only way out is a narrow tunnel that the demon is--demonically--blocking.

But you're not alone. There's that. The ground around you is scattered with weapons and belongings--maybe one of them is yours--and it won't be long before more people arrive, armed and armored and ready to fight.

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'Europe' gets a raised eyebrow in response, no recognition present. "No, this is Thedas. The southern Hinterlands, to be exact, in the kingdom of Ferelden. One of these times I'll remember to bring a map so I have a reference for people." That day isn't today, though. "The Inquisition headquarters is further to the west, in the Frostback Mountains. It's not a fun journey, but I'd like to think we've made it easier since we discovered our fortress. Rifters are welcome to stay there whether or not they officially join."

The Medicine Seller would not ever claim much familiarity with the world beyond his own country of origin, but he was a peddler of remedies, many of which were exotic. He'd had contact with foreign merchants, and they had all manner of interesting maps and navigation tools which had been his one real window to the wider world beyond. At least before the advent of newspapers.

But never had he heard of a place called Thedas. And the fact there were no 'southern' hinterlands on any map he'd ever seen. There were the tips of South Africa, Argentina, and New Zealand, and then a whole lot of ocean before hitting the Antarctic.

Which meant Korrin was either lying, or he was a bit out of his depth here. He was very quiet as he decided on his next question.

"What exactly is a 'Rifter'?" He asked, resting his hand on his knee and turning his full attention to Korrin.

"A rifter is...well, you. Anyone that comes to this world through a rift; you know, those green slivers in the air that spew demons. It's a doorway to the Fade; their plane of existence, our source of magic and the place people go when they dream. We think when the Breach -the mother of all rifts- was created a while back, it somehow latched on to places from beyond the Fade and blindly chucked in anyone it could grab. The Breach is sealed now, but a shit-ton of rifts remain, all of them a threat to natives and rifters alike."

That... was certainly a lot to take in. The Medicine Seller listened patiently, alert and attentive, but his expression registered no more surprise than if Korrin had pointed out a particularly curious cloud pattern.

"My goodness," he said softly. "That sounds like quite a tale."

If what Korrin said was true, then the rift had created some kind of link between where he had been and wherever Thedas was. The idea of it being an entirely other world seemed a little far-fetched but he wasn't about to completely dismiss it entirely. If it was true, then it was a vital bit of information and he was glad for it. If it wasn't - tricks or misconceptions were revealed more quickly if you waited and listened for the cracks in the story rather than denying everything off the bat.

"Is that where the demons come from? The 'fade'?"

Korrin isn't sure if the non-reaction is just shock or what, but this person is new so she'll give him the benefit of the doubt. She nods at the question, glancing back to where the rift was.

"Yeah, it's their home. Well, some of them were demons to begin with. Others were spirits who were dragged into here by the rift and snapped, becoming demons. It's complicated. Either way, it's not a hospitable place for anyone else. The only good thing is that the rift's range is limited and the demons seem to stick near it. But there's still a lot of them, all over Thedas. We've sealed some, but there's a lot left to go."

"...I see."

There was only the slightest narrowing of his eyes. The Medicine Seller had the kind of mask-like face that could make even the most masterful poker players sweat.

"Why is it that spirits snap when entering this plane?"

In his experience, the physical and spiritual planes were intimately linked. The implication that they were wildly different here was... unsettling. And the Medicine Seller wasn't prone to being easily unsettled.

"This is just me talking out of my ass -I'm no expert- but the Fade is mutable, and the demons and spirits can shape it to their liking. A lot of times, they take the form of what mortals dream about, only in a distorted way. When they come to this world, it's a shock because they can't shape it like they could the Fade. That and being sucked through a giant gaping hole might have something to do with it." Korrin shrugs, wishing Solas was still around to direct these kind of questions, but the elf is off doing...something by himself again. "As far as I know, it's just them. I haven't met any rifter who's gone mad from the experience, though I sure as hell wouldn't blame them."

"Odd," was the Medicine Seller's only response to that for a time. He drew his finger unconsciously to his chin as he contemplated what Korrin had said, and all the implications thereof.

Finally he turned his gaze to Korrin.

"How do you that we-" he gestured to the two others who had come through the same rift, "-are simply not particularly clever demons?"

Glancing at the others, Korrin shakes her head as she turns back to him. "Demons are never something you'd mistake for a normal person. You saw the pride demon, all spiny and huge. Rage demons are like roaming lumps of fire, terror demons are very tall and spindly, and so on. Here, where they can't shape a damn thing, it's easy to see them for what they are.

Besides, none of them ever arrive with the shard you now bear. That seems a 'gift' bestowed on non-demons only."

Whether the Medicine Seller was convinced by this or not was hard to say, but he certainly looked intrigued. It wasn't difficult for spirits and demons and all sorts to pass as human in his world, but then, many such creatures who did were shape changers of some form or another. And those that weren't just happened to be human-shaped enough to get around.

But something else seemed more important than the lack of shape changers.

"Pride, rage, terror..." he mused. "Those are powerful emotions. Are they named such because they resemble such things? Or..."

And now he looked at her directly, his cold stare unwavering.

"...Are those perhaps the emotions they embody and are drawn to?"

"...yeah, more or less. It's complicated as hell." And yet, Korrin's going to give it a try because this comes up often enough. "They embody them and are drawn to them, or delight in drawing them out in others. For example, a despair demon might be drawn to a dead-end slum and prosper there. Or rage demons can find a hold on the site of a battlefield or massacre. Those things don't create them, but events can sometimes cause the Veil to thin in places and that's where demons find a hold."

And because she might as well get it over with.... "You'll hear it a lot; mages can be possessed by demons. Our ability to channel the Fade is like a beacon to them, and mages who are unwary or weak-willed can fall if manipulated into it. The resulting abomination is something that can destroy whole fucking towns before it's stopped, which is why people fear mages. That said, in a time when rifts can spew out demons, I think -hope- that means demons don't bother when they have direct access to the physical world anyway. But don't quote me on that."

Wasn't that just demons and the circumstances around them all over. Complicated.

"The compulsions are not... dissimilar." He said, mostly to himself.

It wasn't a surprise that the spiritually inclined were more prone to possession. Live in the mountains and you're more prone to deal with bears after all- it was just common sense. But from what Korrin said, it sounded as though demons were exclusively the problem of mages before these rifts.

"Are mages the only ones who can become possessed? What of other people or objects?" He asked.

"They can possess corpses, and have the powers of the corpse, if they were mages in life. For living people without magic, it's less likely. Mages, because or our influence across the Veil, are prime targets. Demons can't tempt what they can't reach, though in places where the Veil is thin...I could see it happening." Ugh, lovely thought. "They've even been known to possess trees and attack people that way, too. I think the forest was the site of some battle and the Veil became very thin, so...that's a thing that happened. But for the most part, it's corpses."

Yeah, demon-possessed trees. It's actually a thing. Korrin half-expects it not to be believed, but she's trying to refrain from teasing the new people by feeding them bullshit.

Demon-possessed trees didn't exactly phase the Medicine Seller's threshold for weird. In his experience, trees were a hotbed of spiritual activity - if not necessarily demonic.

"So those with magic are not their only prey, just what they prefer."

He gave a soft, cold huff of a laugh.

"Interesting. That makes things easier."

His face returned to its almost mask-like neutrality.

"Let me ask you ... Which forest are you talking about?"

"The Brecilian Forest is one example, though it's not the only place it's happened. Why, are you eager to get stomped into pudding by a raging tree?" Korrin raises an eyebrow, not exactly about to recommend the experience. "If you are, that's something you'd likely have to do alone. The Inquisition has no reason to go there, yet, and it's pretty far from here."

"It is rare for tree spirits to be hostile," he said, letting the statement hang in the air without further elaboration. He didn't think it was of much concern to something called the Inquisition, but for him, it was like the first signs of a festering wound.

"But I would like to learn more about this place before I resume my travels."

"Yeah, well, these are less spirits that naturally well in trees and more rage demons taking them over.

Good point. I'll try to get hold of a map, but in a nutshell, a lot of the Inquisition's involvement is currently in Ferelden and the Empire of Orlais, to the west. On top of these rifts, Orlais is involved in a civil war, and Ferelden is still recovering from a Blight that took place a decade earlier. On top of all that, the mage rebellion spread all over Thedas, and their war with the Templars is pretty much on hold for the time being while they work with the Inquisition. It's an uneasy alliance, as you might guess. The incident that caused the Breach also destroyed a temple were peace talks were taking place, killing nearly everyone there...including Divine Justinia. She is -was- the head of the Chantry, the dominant religious order of Thedas. To say that things are in upheaval would be a vast underestatement.

...sorry, I know the timing sucks."

"I see."

Politics were never his forte. Emperors came and went and the political landscape remained precarious, but slow to change. Different people trod the same paths again and again and again. He had no care for politics unless they involved someone turning into a Mononoke.

And he had little care for religion as well. Spirituality? Of course - it was the bread and butter of most of his tread. But religion made things messy.

"How very chaotic. What is a Blight, may I ask?"

"There's a shit-ton that can be said about Blights, but I'll try to condense it as best I can. Blights are when darkspawn -tainted humanoid beings- find a sleeping Old God and taint it. Said Old God becomes an Archdemon and the driving force behind their actions, leading them to the surface. They actively kill or corrupt anything in their path, but their very presence also taints the land, water and air around them. Everything suffers, and will continue to suffer until the Archdemon is slain. That's why the Grey Warden order exists, to fight darkspawn and destroy the Archdemon each time a blight surfaces.

So far, Thedas has had five. The most recent one was actually the least destructive, in that it didn't go beyond Ferelden's borders. Most end up devastating the entire continent."

"A disease that effects gods and even the land..."

The Medicine Seller was quiet again as he contemplated this. Such a thing sounded incredibly potent. While it was no Ayakashi or Mononoke, he was, after all, still a medicine seller. Disease was always of some interest to him.

"Do you know where such an illness originated?"

"I know the official Chantry version. Beyond that, it happened so long ago that it's all we have to go on." Korrin shrugs, not having planned to spout Chantry doctrine upon a first meeting, but since she was asked.... "When the Tevinter Imperium was at its height, seven magisters did this huge-ass blood sacrifice so they could enter the Fade. Their plan was to reach the Golden City, seat of the Maker...or the Old Gods, depending on perspective. In their greed for more power, they didn't realize that their very presence was corrupting the city, turning it black. The Chantry always holds this up as proof that the living aren't meant to make that journey, and in their hubris, the magisters were cast out, turning into the world's first darkspawn. The started the First Blight, the one that lasted for a couple hundred years and nearly destroyed everything. If it wasn't for the Grey Wardens, none of us would be around today."

"I wonder what the truth is."

He was sure there were grains of it, buried within centuries of religious doctrine, warped and twisted to suit whatever narrative they needed to excuse the next war with whoever their enemy was at the time. He'd seen it, again and again. People were very good at skewing history in favour of killing each other.

"Is there something unique about these Wardens that allow them to stand against such odds...?"

Korrin shrugs, spreading her arms. "Probably. You can ask, but don't expect them to answer. They keep their secrets very closely guarded. Besides, I think most of the Wardens in the Inquisition are relatively new to it all, so they might not have been entrusted with a lot, anyway. We do have some veterans of the Fifth Blight with us, though, some of them not even Wardens. Our spymaster, Leliana, is one of those people."

"It must be something terrible indeed," he said, the slightest hint of an edge to his usual monotone, "if secrets take precedence to combating a disease of body and land."

There was almost certainly more to it than that but for now he seemed content with Korrin's answers. It gave him a foothold, knowing where to start when he began his search for information in earnest.

"Thank you. Much of that was very helpful."

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Wintermarch Rifter Arrival

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