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faderift2017-11-15 12:48 am
faderifting) wrote in faderift2017-11-15 12:48 am
FIRSTFALL RIFTER ARRIVAL
WHO: New rifters & their rescuers
WHAT: People fall out of a rift and get attacked by stuff, as usual.
WHEN: Firstfall/November 14
WHERE: Somewhere a ways off the Imperial Highway between Cumberland and Nevarra City
NOTES: This 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 can pick them up. Rifters can then either continue on with the main Inquisition caravan to Nevarra City or be escorted back to Kirkwall.
WHAT: People fall out of a rift and get attacked by stuff, as usual.
WHEN: Firstfall/November 14
WHERE: Somewhere a ways off the Imperial Highway between Cumberland and Nevarra City
NOTES: This 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 can pick them up. Rifters can then either continue on with the main Inquisition caravan to Nevarra City or be escorted back to Kirkwall.
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 landing with a wet smack. There is no avoiding the mud: this rift has opened up in the center of some unfortunate farmer's field, and all his hard work plowing and manuring has now been ruined, first by the rain that has churned it into a thick and especially fragrant muck and then by the arrival the rift itself, splitting the air mid-field and making it impossible to safely plant. And now, of course, there's you as well, tumbling out of the Fade and into the shin-deep mud.
The cluster of demons emerging from the rift seem at odds with the setting, strange stark shapes in this empty space, standing out against the grey sky. 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.
All around is more fields, except for an abandoned farmhouse a ways off, beside a windbreak of spindly trees topping a low ridge before the next stretch of pasture. As you find your feet, you may catch sight of a handful of figures in the distance, exiting the farmhouse and hurrying away over the hill. If anyone ventures to the farmhouse, they will find the remains of a camp, and may be able to locate a dropped notebook or what looks like pieces of some unknown scientific instrument, apparently broken in the rush to leave.
In this world, when the afterimage left by a flare of too-bright, greenish light fades, you will find yourself landing with a wet smack. There is no avoiding the mud: this rift has opened up in the center of some unfortunate farmer's field, and all his hard work plowing and manuring has now been ruined, first by the rain that has churned it into a thick and especially fragrant muck and then by the arrival the rift itself, splitting the air mid-field and making it impossible to safely plant. And now, of course, there's you as well, tumbling out of the Fade and into the shin-deep mud.
The cluster of demons emerging from the rift seem at odds with the setting, strange stark shapes in this empty space, standing out against the grey sky. 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.
All around is more fields, except for an abandoned farmhouse a ways off, beside a windbreak of spindly trees topping a low ridge before the next stretch of pasture. As you find your feet, you may catch sight of a handful of figures in the distance, exiting the farmhouse and hurrying away over the hill. If anyone ventures to the farmhouse, they will find the remains of a camp, and may be able to locate a dropped notebook or what looks like pieces of some unknown scientific instrument, apparently broken in the rush to leave.
no subject
"Dalish," he repeated, dutifully committing the word to memory. Dalish meant facial tattoos. Possibly also pointy ears, though he was not about to make any personal assumptions about someone's physical traits. That would be impolite.
"Such situations, whatever the initial intentions, often lead to rampant abuse," Klaus agreed. "My world's own history is littered with such atrocities, though they never reached any magically inclined communities."
He paused, considering that wasn't entirely true.
"...Not for lack of trying at least. I imagine the situation is still precarious with only two years between now and the initial revolts...?"
no subject
She nods when Klaus mentions it's common in his own world--curious that it doesn't effect mages, though. But then, if she's learned anything from rifters, it's that Thedas seems to be rather at the forefront of being terrible to people for various reasons.
When he asks about the situation, she can at least nod surely at that. If she did know anything, she knew that 'precarious' was a good word for the situation. "The war only ended when the Inquisition got them to call a truce, in order to deal with some of the various problems Thedas has been having." She really doesn't feel like explaining Corypheus, which requires talking about Magisters and darkspawn and all sorts of other things. "No one really knows what will happen after that."
no subject
This was, clearly, not his first rodeo. Or even his fiftieth. He didn't know the specifics, such as names or histories - but he knew people and he knew what people were like in long-term crises. He really wished Steven were here right now.
"It's best to focus on the most pressing matters first - portals opening and bridging worlds while spewing demons seems more an immediate threat than whatever the magically inclined are capable of."
no subject
It should convey her sentiments appropriately.
"We have people looking into the rifts. I'm pretty sure all we know for sure is how to close them. That is--you just wave your hand with the shard in it at the rift." She raises her left hand, and wiggles it a little. "It'll close the rift up, and no more demons. But we haven't quite figured out how to stop them from opening."
Which is. A pretty serious issue, admittedly. But she's sure the rift and veil project is doing the best they can.
no subject
He remarked: "A wave of the hand. Goodness." It sounded a bit too easy really, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"Is there any recognizable pattern to their opening? Perhaps places where there's vast quantities of mud and fertilizer?"
no subject
"I think there must be something, our expert on the Fade--an elven man called Solas--has been able to accurately predict where the rifts that produce rifters will occur. But he's not here. Warden Inessa Serra might know more, she's in charge of the project that studies them."
Beleth gives a little shrug, smiling sheepishly at him. "I'm afraid I'm not much good for magical things. If you have any questions about scouting, that's more my territory."