FIRSTFALL RIFTER ARRIVAL

[faderifting]

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.

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.

Comments

[castintoflames]

"It is easy to do." Maedhros would be the last one to hold a moment or two of weakness against anyone, "I am glad that you have been reunited with her for a time. She will do you much good and you will do her likewise." he wished he could do more than offer comforting words, but it wasn't within his power to help anyone on Arda.

Here, however, might be a different tale. He was cautiously hopeful.

"I would not call me a friend yet, though it would be my honor to be considered as such." his stomach clenched at the inevitable horror that would surely follow his introduction, "I am Maedhros."

[hallabackdir]

Haldir sucked in a breath through his nose, and his face fell. In front of him was one of the boogiemen of his childhood. A cautionary tale mothers and fathers told their children. Kinslayers. The dark deeds they had committed to recover those accursed jewels came to the forefront of his mind. He risked a quick glance in Galadriel’s direction. Surely, she was aware of his presence among them. Why had she not told him? Was her faith in him shaken after her injury?

Perhaps she had reason to be. Here he had been, confiding to him like a fool.

“She knows you are here?” was all he could let out.

[castintoflames]

"Yes." Maedhros knew that hiding from her was useless and so he had not truly been trying, "She and I are family. Cousins." he lifted a shoulder in a shrug, "I would not harm her or you for anything." the Silmaril included, though he feared he would not be able to keep that promise if they were factored into the equation.

But he trusted that somehow, if there were Silmaril, he would dispose of them. Just as he had done in the chasm.

"My brother is here, too. Maglor and yet another cousin, Fingon. You could say he is the keeper of us and I trust him to perform that duty admirably." for he was Fingon the Valiant and held in high-esteem by the Fëanorians and outsiders alike.

[hallabackdir]

His eyes bore into the other elf’s as he spoke, trying to find anything untoward in his actions or appearance. But, as much as he hated himself to admit it, there was nothing. He seemed in earnest. His head wrestled with the stories he was told and what he had witnessed in the last few minutes. They could not be the same person. His description was always those of a ruthless commander, who threw his men and his brothers into battle like fodder. The person in front of him seemed…timid and forlorn. It didn’t add up.

Malgor and Fingon here as well. Fingon, at least, could be trusted. And, if the stories could be believed, Fingon often tempered Maedhros. But, if they had the Silmarils… or even worse if they did not… His heart seized a little. He studied the elf for just a moment longer.

“You are not as the stories made you out to be.” He said as neutrally as possible, trying to gauge his reaction.

[castintoflames]

"The stories are likely more factual than not. I was cruel and ruthless. I loved my brothers, but I used them as pawns to gain the jewels. Nothing else mattered to me until the Havens of Sirion." his eyes were unfocused as he relived the memory of finding the two small Elflings amongst the fire and wreckage, "Maglor and I changed that day, though we continued our father's quest. I believe we both wanted to be rid of it."

Seeing Elrond and Elros grow had reminded him of how much he and his brothers had missed out on - and all for what? Some jewels? What did it matter if they shone brighter than the stars?

"By the time we seized a pair of the Silmaril, we had fouled our fëas so thoroughly that they rejected us outright." his lips curled bitterly, "I thought the one I held would burn straight through my hand. A madness overtook me, then, and I fled from my brother. I threw myself into a fiery chasm with the jewel in hand, thinking to destroy it and myself."

[hallabackdir]

Haldir felt his heart squeeze again and again as he went on. His forwardness took him aback a moment. He hadn't thought he would just come out and admit everything. He expected deflection, denial, anything but what had happened. He also thought he'd feel rage or hatred towards him, but found he lacked both. He didn’t know what to feel. Or what to say.

He rubbed his hand again, thinking of the pain he must have experienced in that moment. To have lost everything to find them….And then to have felt he had no other choice than death once he had it. Such things should not exist.

“Did you destroy it then?” He breathed. “They are destroyed?”

[castintoflames]

Hiding was an act of cowardice. Maedhros was many things, but he actively fought against cowardice. After he took his own life knowingly and openly, leaving behind a brother to suffer the Ages to come alone, he was determined to stand in the full light of day even if it hurt. Even if it made everyone hate him (as they should in his opinion).

"One is destroyed. I have not asked Kano what he did with his, but his hands..." he grimaced, paling, "They bear the same marks of rejection. He would not have been able to keep the Silmaril on his person and since he no longer has a home..."

Maglor must have gotten rid of the Silmaril somehow, somewhere. Perhaps in the sea.

"The last one can be seen above us all, worn by Eärendil the Mariner."

[hallabackdir]

Raking fingers across his face, he let out a deep breath of relief. They were not here. And two were beyond anyone's reach now. Although, if anyone were to find the last one in Arda, especially if that someone was the enemy.

“Such things should not exist,” he said as much to himself as he did to the other. He ran his hand across his face again.

He looked back up at Maedhros. Studying him yet again, hoping to figure out what he should do. What he should say. What should he say?

“I suppose my own failures do seem slight in comparison....”

[castintoflames]

Haldir was incredibly kind. After a life of bloodshed, failure and loss - not necessarily in that order - Maedhros appreciated that quality greatly. He knew he was, in a way, taking advantage of it - it was nice to converse with someone and not have blades making an appearance.

"I concur." he loved his father, but he knew Fëanor was a rash, dangerous and oft irrational Elf, "The intent behind them was not foul. Atto was proud. Too proud. And far too quick to anger." he felt fatigued speaking of pride and anger.

Those qualities were rife in his family. They were literally the fools that flew too close to the sun, thinking they would never be burned.

"Your trials are no less important or heavy than my own. All we can do is live our lives to the best of our ability."

[hallabackdir]

Maedhros' gaze was far more intense than any Haldir was used to. He felt his face become increasingly more warm. He opened his mouth several times, but each time he closed it again. He quickly looked away, and cleared his throat.

"I...have been known to let my ire get the better of me, myself," he sighed. "But, I know very little about pride."

He risked another look back up at the elf through the corner of his eye. "What sort of life will you lead now?"

[castintoflames]

...and his spirit burned like a white fire within, and he was as one who returns from the dead.

There were likely few who could hold Maedhros's gaze without flinching or looking away. What he had endured, what he had become had altered his very soul. If he had not leapt into the fire, he might have suffered the same fate as Fëanor.

"Do not know it. Stay humble." he turned to gaze at the fire burning not far from them, some of the light catching in the copper strands of his hair, "I choose to be a guardian and a warrior if need be. I give my life to protect others."

[hallabackdir]

"A noble aspiration, indeed," he all but hummed in reply. He watched him stare into the flames. He hoped it wasn't insensitive to ask such a question. Who was he to ask him what his life goals where? What was he thinking? He stared in the flames too as he wrapped his arms around himself.

Suddenly, a gurgling growl erupted from his stomach. His whole body stilled as he closed his eyes and let out a silent curse. His his face got even warmer.

[castintoflames]

"I have known little of nobility. It is time I become acquainted with it." he frowned faintly at how miserable the other Elf seemed. What could he do to help? The growl was a nice clue and he fought back a smile for Haldir's sake.

"You need sustenance." he rose to gather some stew, bringing a full bowl back and holding it out as a sort of peace offering, "What will your Lady do if you allow yourself to weaken?"

[hallabackdir]

He took the bowl that was offered, with a slightly gaping mouth. "Thank you," he whispered.

He placed a hand over this stomach, and then looked at the stew.

"Is that what this noise means?" He asked looking back at him. "My body been different since my arrival here. It fights against me at every turn. It also has been making that noise for....quite some time."

[castintoflames]

"Yes. If you do not see to it, you will weaken." Maedhros sat beside him again, resting his arms on his knees, "Without rations, Men will sicken within a day."

Since his foster-son had become one of the race of Men, he thought it best to learn of them quickly and well. He too had felt the pangs of hunger and fatigue, but he at least knew their origin. Unlike Haldir, he had spent centuries feeling...ill. Morgoth had left a lasting taint upon him.

[hallabackdir]

Haldir's brows knit together as he watched the other's eyes glaze over slightly. He'd seen it happen many times with his lady. But, whether he was lost in the past or the future, he knew not.

Acting more bold than he had right to really, he reached over and gave him a soft squeeze on the upper arm to try and rouse him from whatever visions he was lost in.

"Thank you, my Lord. I will not let myself weaken." He let go, and then moved to retrieve the pack of supplies they had given him. He pulled out the rough wool blanket and offered it to him.

"They gave us all manner of supplies. I don't know if you have any, but please take mine if you need. It's the least I can do."