faderift | Return to the Blackmarsh

Of all the things, it had to be a rift. By now, Kain has come across a few of them, but it doesn't get any easier to handle their presence. Especially since he himself has a shard. It's not something he advertises. In fact, he actively hides it, taking pains to keep the hand under a thick glove. He still likes to pretend it's not there, most of the time, but in the presence of a rift, he can't ignore it.

Especially not when that familiar sharp burning ache hits him. He clenches his hand into a fist, initially wanting to leave the task to another, but... no, not when Melys is so overwhelmed. Maker damn it. He knows he has to help.

He removes the glove, revealing the glowing green in his palm. "Like this!" Kain holds his hand up, planting his feet on the ground in a defensive, steady stance. As he holds the hand up, the shard starts reacting with the rift, the green energy bursting from his hand toward the rift.

Rift, echoes, demons-- If Myr had anything in him left to be alarmed with he'd be so now. All he can muster is a dull gut-churning unease at the feel of the hex bending a kink in reality.

Panic is exhausting, but doesn't absolve one of duty. He halts as Melys does, reaching out to her in a brief steadying touch. Nothing he can say on the subject of closing the rift--but he is here.

And here for more than simple comfort. There's a battle to be joined shortly and he'll be damned if he freezes for this one.

The Fade demands will but not conviction out of a mage. This is good: Myr doesn't feel much like anyone's champion right now, though he invokes the mantle of one with the mechanical surety of long practice. A pale gold aureole chases the gloom from around him--around them--bringing with it strength for sword-arms and spells, and bolstering might to fortify against the demon's attacks.

She stares dumbly at Anders, tries to make out the words, and then he's turning, throwing himself at that thing looks like some kid's drawing of an ox. The Orlesian's gone and wripped his own hand clear up, about to wave hello to all life's horrifying mystery.

(Myr's fingers on her, too small and strong for another's, and she'd have to bowl him over to bolt now.)

Force shakes the edges of the anchor, a burning conduit, a gate to something else. Melys lifts her palm --

(Is this what power feels like? She never wanted that.)

The immediate sense that something's gone wrong, bizarre in its certainty. The pressure in the air before a storm, or the first time you crack a bone; she knows even without a frame for the shape: Something's wrong with this.

It holds her fixed, marveling even as she waits for it to hit, for the cavalcade of shit just about to spill.

Her hand shudders,

The rift shudders, splits.

Edited ("I'm not going to double edit any more" I said, lying to us all) 2017-10-19 15:44 (UTC)

Grateful that Melys has the direction she needs, Inessa focuses on doing her part one the shardbearing duo's efforts produce results. The moment those demons kneel or freeze, temporarily stunned by the rift, she casts Stonefist on the same pride demon as before. Before the stun has a chance of wearing off, Inessa casts her ice mine array for added protection.

Garahel remains close to his charge, snapping and rending a nearby stunned Shade with his jaws. One down, several to go.

It would really be nice if one errand didn't involve things trying to eat his group, or stomp on them, or otherwise maiming or injuring. Being back here is exhausting in its own right but there are a flood of demons to go along with it.

A wave of energy hits him and he gives Myr a glance of thanks, reminding himself to say it later.

And he should probably be careful with what he says to Melys later, because there's no chance she's not going to be prickly about seemingly creating another rift. For now, he's setting fire to the pride demon he's focusing on, hoping to wear it down some, following it up with a series of flung rocks at its head. He doesn't really want to draw its attention, but considering how they may have more company soon dividing and conquering may be the best tactic.

Edited ( Read poorly) 2017-10-20 03:13 (UTC)

A little bolstering is definitely a good thing right about now. Kain is ready for this to be a long, challenging battle... rifts always cause that... But when the second rift appears, that's a total shock. He's stunned by the sight of it, wondering in that moment what's going wrong. That doesn't happen... that just doesn't happen...

But there's no time to just stand around gaping at the sight of the double rifts. The first wave are still pretty stunned, and Kain manages to get a good hit on one of those, before he's overtaken by one of the others that's just regaining its senses. He growls, sword slamming into the demon. Right now, with the rift... no, rifts to deal with... the demons are just more of an annoying distraction. He has to get past this one. He has to get in a position to try tackling at least one of those rifts.

"Get out of here, demon!" He whirls around, striking it, turning his attention once more to the nearest rift, the original and larger of the two. He aims his hand toward it, feeling that familiar unsettling tingle as the shard interacts with the rift. He puts all his effort and focus into this. He's got to work on closing it before...

...before yet another rift erupts, another smaller one nearby. "Oh, Maker's... Can we not have this!?"

Evidently, they don't get a choice in the matter.

One of the pride demons has been brought to its knees by Loghain's persistent battery of sword slashes and shield strikes, ectoplasm viscera dripping from its wounds as it lashes out viciously with one last strike at its attacker. Its enormous claw swings wildly for Loghain's head, and just barely misses, but clips his shoulder and sends him staggering to the side. Bloody but not dazed, Loghain lets out a snarl that's half anger, half pain, and plunges his sword straight through the demon's throat. It falls, gurgling, when he yanks it back out--in time for the additional rift to blossom into view.

It’s not supposed to do that. It’s not supposed to have done that — and any satisfaction in being right dissipates with the rift's second division.

There's no time to just stand about gaping. But what the fuck else is she supposed to do?

"It didn't work!"

She yowls, shouting over the din to be heard. You know, in case anyone didn't get that from the three rifts boiling over with demons.

Myr didn't--quite--but then he can't see the extra rifts--

Though he can damn well feel the Veil coming apart like a rotten piece of linen, admitting the demons beyond. "Veil's too thin!" he shouts back, finishing a repulsion glyph to guard their flank. The final motion that sets it alight flows easily into the start of the next spell as he twists the Fade (too easy here, it's too easy) into a summons, calling up an outsized buzzing black cloud of--

--those aren't bees or wasps or anything so wholesome but they do make short work of one Shade and leap to the next in a frenzy of mandibles and venom.

Inessa's lips form a thin, annoyed line as she notes what has happened, though it's at herself rather than Melys or Kain. She should have seen this coming, when the Veil is so thin in this location. If they aren't careful, all they'll end up doing is creating more rifts, and that's the last thing the Blackmarsh needs. (And them. She'd quite like to depart with everyone intact.)

Sending a Heal spell at Loghain, Inessa raises her voice afterward. Time to change their approach, since using the rifts to stun the demons is just creating more problems. "Take down the demons first! We'll attend to the rifts once they're gone!" There's always that moment of reprieve, when demons are defeated and rifts collapse in on themselves, waiting to be sealed. She's counting on it now.

Shades attempt to reach her and are quickly engulfed in her ice array, upon which she uses Veilstrike to knock them down. Garahel avoids getting too close to Myr's swarm, but he stands firm, ready to pounce whatever makes it past them, if anything.

Edited 2017-10-28 13:54 (UTC)

Kain doesn't have to be told twice to leave that rift alone. He doesn't even really know enough about the veil or any of it- he's no mage, and hasn't spent much time studying such things. But he can feel it, thanks to that shard in his hand, a disturbing feeling, as if the very sky is too flimsy to hold up. Trying to continually pull it back together isn't really helping much at the moment. Sure, his hand is still burning, the green glow wanting to react with those rifts... but he ignores it, in favor of the new plan for now.

"If you're sure that'll work!"

He's willing to try. Grimacing, Kain tries to keep his left, dominant hand's grip steady. It's no easy task with that shard, but what other choice do they have? Maybe with more demons gone, he can take a chance and try sealing those rifts again. If the veil is so delicate, perhaps it needs... a different touch somehow? Ugh, he really doesn't know enough about this to be sure...

For now, Kain shouts and goes charging at one of the nearest demons, heedless of it also coming at him head-on to attack. It's all about taking those demons down, no matter what it might take out of him. Already, he's using Ring of Pain to fuel him, his own blows getting stronger every time the demon strikes him.

Hero of River Dane or Traitor Teyrn--whether he's seen as one or the other, he'll wield his sword and shield the same either way. The healing spell invigorates him and closes the lacerations wrought upon him by the pride demon, and just in time; two more shades spill from the latest rift and lurch their way towards both Melys and Myr as they hold their own. Loghain assesses the rest of the party in a glance--Kain's powerful swings laying into a demon, Inessa competently engaging shades with the power from her staff--and then books it towards the pair. Myr's swarm hurls itself upon the approaching shades, slowing them down just enough for Loghain to catch up to them and drive his sword into them each in turn.

He sprays ice from his hands, still facing off with the pride demon that he's been dealing with all along, and dozens of shards slash their way through its throat, finally bringing it down. Anders whirls around to take measure of the rest of the combat, try to find weak spots... and slips on something in the mud, twisting his ankle and landing on his ass.

A muttered curseword or two later he's getting back up despite the pain and then he sees what it is. "The orb! Inessa, I've got the orb!" Quickly he casts ice around it, protecting it from the rest of what's going on just in case it's fragile. "We shut these down, shut the rifts out, and then we're done with this mess!"

That hopefully serves as a rallying cry. It's his best guess as to what might help.

Return to the Blackmarsh

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Heard u liked rifts so we put a rift by ur rift

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