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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"Is that so?"

An outside opinion on this Inquisition was definitely something he needed to hear. Any organization had its good and bad sides, but he'd like to get an idea of their goals before he decided to investigate further, or clear off while the going was good.

"Do you find the work they give you... satisfactory?"

"Since I have been the one to decide what I do then I would say it is. Certainly I could just refuse to do it if I took no pleasure from it though. It does not appear as if they are forcing anyone to partake in things that they have no interest in."

Not that he'd noticed anyway. Things could be happening behind closed doors that he wasn't aware of currently but he'd have to actually reach out to someone to find out what that was about. As a Rifter that certainly wasn't going to be easy but he made a mental note to look into it when they got back all the same.

"They could likely stand to be a little more progressive though."

"Oh?"

He inclined his head, curious about what this man found distasteful. After all, 'standing to be a bit more progressive' could mean a number of things. But mostly it was a nice way of saying there were the kinds of problems that tended to result in the Medicine Seller's kind of work.

"In what ways are they ...ah... not progressing?"

"I would say the treatment of magic in this world is a fair example. As much as it is used it is also greatly feared. This causes those with magic to often suffer great amounts of abuse from what I have gathered. However, I would say that there is quite a lot of mistreatment of the Elvish race as well. Were they to move past such petty things I would say this organization would be far stronger than they realize."

He'd always been a progressive man though. Of course he would start to look at things like this instead of focusing on the terrible things. Why not look towards the future and fixing the problem at hand? It certainly was more productive. Pity he wasn't he ruler here so there was only so much he could do presently.

The fear of magic was not terribly surprising - there was precedence in his own world. The west had their witch hunts, and his own homeland, while generally more tolerant in some respects, was not immune to persecuting those with supernatural abilities (or even what they perceived as supernatural). The mistreatment of elves also didn't surprise him - humans could barely tolerate the differences of people one province over without breaking out into a territorial squabble. Dealing with people with a different ear shape seemed almost too much to hope.

"Those do sound quite troublesome. What are the reasons behind such abuses?"

"Mm. I would say a general fear really. It would make sense for magic given the dangers behind it and what can come of abuse. However I've not yet learned the reason behind the Elves when it seems Dwarves do not necessarily have similar abuses in their history?"

Obviously he'd been looking into this. Asking questions, reading books. Before just forming an opinion he'd really been studying matters. Everything about him suggested he should rush to judgement but the reality was hardly that at all. He put careful thought into things, really thinking it through before proceeding. True those thoughts flew his mind faster compared to others but that didn't change the facts.

"So I would say a solid enough reason is simply fear."

The Medicine Seller listened patiently. As far as he was concerned, magic was no more frightening than anything else people were capable of. They seemed to do just fine committing atrocities, with or without the aid of supernatural forces.

Elves and Dwarves - he was vaguely familiar with the terms being from Norse mythology. Interesting.

"Rational or not, hatred is usually born from such," he mused.

"Do you know much about how magic works in this place?"

"Only vaguely. I know it is somehow connected to this Fade and that only certain people are born able to use it. My first learnings of it mostly had to do with Spirits since that would be what would impact me the most."

Which made sense since he was a Spirit himself. Paying attention to how magic worked around him would be essential for him to know.

"Mages of this world are more likely to answer questions about it better though."

"I will keep that in mind. Thank you."

Whether or not he was as versed in the lore of this world as its inhabitants mattered little. It was still useful to have another outsider's opinion so that he could gauge the kind of treatment other's alien to this place would receive.

"I take it then that you are not a mage?"

"I am not. I was summoned by a mage though in my own world. I am a Spirit!"

There was quite the stigma about those in this world but he never shied away from sharing with others what he was. He truly felt that if he kept that to himself then he was only doing his kind a disservice. Much like how he never hid the fact that he was a Rifter. The best way to aid with fear was not to hide but rather to be up front and show there was no danger to be found.

"Oh? Is that so?"

It was hard to say if Iskander's infectious enthusiasm had managed to pass on to the Medicine Seller (in whatever capacity the Medicine Seller had to be enthusiastic about anything) or if he merely found some amusement in the king's statement.

"What manner of spirit, if I may ask? There are... so many."

"Heroic! A hero of myth or legend who passed and has been summoned by a mage."

He knew that wasn't the usual kind of answer to that question but it was accurate all the same. It certainly said what he was, that was for certain. Iskandar smiled at him, that enthusiasm seemingly without end.

"In my world I am a great King from ancient times summoned into the Rider class."

"...My goodness."

And the Medicine Seller bowed. He was never particularly sincere about such things, but it never hurt to pay respect to one's social superiors.

It had been a long time since feudalism and strict social classes had been around, but old habits died hard.

"Such an honour."

For who it was hard to say, as the Medicine Seller's voice seemed to be a constant, deadpan monotone.

"...Though... I do not know what a Rider class is."

The bow caused him to blink before he let out a laugh. He gave a wave of his hand.

"We sit here as friends. There is no need for formality here together, seller of medicines."

Resting his hand on his leg, he tilted his head a bit.

"Spirits summoned by mages in my world are put into classes based on aspects they were known for in their lifetime. The Rider class is one of these and is for those known for having used some creature or vehicle for their transportation. In my case it seems that my chariot is one makes me one. Though I suppose my horse would as well."

He returned to sitting upright, his marvelously manicured hands resting in his lap.

"Oh? Goodness, how quickly friendship blossoms here," he said, partially amused and partially suspicious. Was this man the sort who called people friend because he just happened to be naturally friendly or was it some ploy to seem disarming?

It was too soon to say, but the Medicine Seller had little issue playing along.

"A summoned spirit... so you are some manner of shikigami?"

"A shikigami? This is a thing of Japan, yes? I'm afraid I don't know much about the tales of Japan to be able to tell you if I am like this thing you speak of."

It was just honesty really. Though he'd been in Japan for a few days that was hardly enough time for him to learn about all of the myths and legends of the country. Really it was barely enough to watch a few shows on the television! Which sort of left him clueless aside from easily recognizing the language due to his status as a Servant.

"They are powerful beings summoned to do the bidding of another."

He contemplated for a moment, racking his brain for some western equivalent.

"One might use the term 'familiar', but those are only beasts if I am not mistaken?"

"Ah! In that case then I am not that. A familiar is the animal that the boy had. A small rodent who could gather information for him."

He grinned at him, obviously ready to better understand this since it was still so new to him.

"Is there more to this shikigami? Are they truly so similar to familiars?"

"Yes, though they are not always beasts."

He wasn't sure how much more he could explain it while keeping things simple.

"But you seem solid enough that you are likely neither."

He also didn't seem malicious enough to be one, but the Medicine Seller knew enough not to trust first impressions.

"I am very solid! Would you like to feel?"

He held out a hand so that way he could get a feel if he so desired to. Really he saw no reason not to. Maybe it could show this seller of medicine something interesting!

"This is my physical form, after all."

This got a slightly bewildered expression from the Medicine Seller who was not a particularly touchy-feely sort of person.

He gave Iskander's proffered hand an experimental prod.

Yup. That sure was some muscle, sinew and bone all up under that skin.

"Very impressive."

"Were I in my world I would have a spiritual form that would be without solidity. I could go anywhere I wished that way. Mmm. It seems that has changed now. Still, I am spirit, whatever sort I am like."

That did bring him to a question though. "Do you know much about spirits, my friend?"

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Wintermarch Rifter Arrival

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