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faderift2018-03-10 04:17 pm
faderifting) wrote in faderift2018-03-10 04:17 pm
DRAKONIS RIFTER ARRIVAL
WHO: New rifters
WHAT: People fall out of a rift, get attacked, and discover that they are trapped and alone.
WHEN: Drakonis 10
WHERE: A snowy pit.
NOTES: This month, the arrival log is CLOSED to new rifters only. Don't worry, there will be chances for everyone else to meet (and help!) them soon.
WHAT: People fall out of a rift, get attacked, and discover that they are trapped and alone.
WHEN: Drakonis 10
WHERE: A snowy pit.
NOTES: This month, the arrival log is CLOSED to new rifters only. Don't worry, there will be chances for everyone else to meet (and help!) them soon.
I. ARRIVAL
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. At least in some worlds.
In this world, you wake with a jolt when you hit the ground, soft for an instant and then bone-jarringly hard. You've landed in a pile of loose snow, beneath which is more snow, frozen solid, and all around you are walls of more snow, tinted by the shifting green gash in the air. There are other people finding their feet after a similarly sprawling arrival, and then emerging from the rift in your wake are a number of hunched, greyish creatures in tattered robes that shuffle about, keeping their distance as they send sharp spikes of ice flying toward you.
They're accompanied by floating beings with too many insect-like arms, and creatures that seem to emerge from the ground like plumes of magma, their fire causing the walls to drip and turning the ground beneath your feet treacherously slick. There is also one giant scarecrow, nearly twenty feet tall, and with giant scalpel blades for arms. It is dressed in a tuxedo, a fine bolo tie, and a cowboy hat, and accompanied by five normal-sized scarecrows in matching suits and hats. Needless to say, they are not friendly either. There are many of you, but even more enemies.
If that all weren't enough there's also a narrow splinter of light in the same sickly green as whatever brought you here, now glowing out of the palm of your left hand. It aches, a bone-deep pain that gnaws even through all the distractions, and seems to call your attention back to the rift.
II. TRAPPED
After the first few waves of demons are defeated (there will be no more scarecrows), there will be a lull long enough to regroup and take stock of surroundings. You appear to be at the bottom of a deep crevasse, the walls stretching high above your heads. The space is only about 20 feet wide at its center, but nearly fifty yards long, tapering narrower at the ends, with the rift located near the southern end. There is no exit, no cracks or tunnels leading away, and no hand or footholds in the sheer walls. There are some animal bones scattered about, but no evidence of other living creatures. There is also no evidence of other people, here or above you.
Luckily, the rift has spilled out a great deal of crap along with you and all the demons. There is a gigantic cake several feet tall half-smushed into one wall, its ten tiers delicately decorated all in white fondant, with whorling patterns and flowers made of frosting. Each layer is a different flavor, ranging from the mundane (chocolate, vanilla, carrot) to the bizarre (strawberry & pickle, spicy lemon olive, red velvet mackerel). There are also some actual mackerel, a heap of live fish having spilled through the rift and scattered about the crevasse during the battle, along with bundles of dried (but now soggy) cornstalks.
You can see a narrow patch of sky above and sunlight does filter down to you, for the few hours of the day that there is any sunlight at all. Given the reflection off all the snow and ice, during those daylight hours it is pleasantly bright, though tinted a bit blue (and green by the rift). Unfortunately, daylight only lasts about eight hours, and it is frequently cloudy, which leaves the crevasse dimly lit, as if in a perpetual dusk. At night it will be utterly pitch black except for the rift's eerie glow. It's also very cold, with temperatures remaining below freezing during the day and well below at night.
III. LOST
Whether with magic or creative ice-pick improvisation, scaling the walls of the crevasse is not impossible—but there is minimal reward for the effort. Fully exposed to the wind, it's colder on the surface than in the crevasse, and on the third day there's a whiteout blizzard that reduces visibility to twenty feet for hours. Even when the weather is clear, though, there's not much to see. The land above is a wasteland of ice, snow, and wind, without visible vegetation or landmarks other than monotonous gentle hills. The only disruption to the landscape in any direction is about a hundred yards north of the rift, where spots of color and piles of snow mark what is, on closer inspection, an abandoned camp.
Whoever was there before built low walls out of packed snow to block some of the wind and dug enough snow caves to sleep a dozen people, though a few have since caved in. There's no food—there was food, before, but overturned crates and animal tracks suggest the area is not as devoid of life as it looks—but there are thick fur blankets and sets of boots or outerwear. More than a dozen, in a variety of different sizes. Almost like they were expecting poorly-clothed company.
Maybe someone was coming for you. Maybe they'll be back. Or maybe not.
[ ooc | The rift will continue to spit out demons at semi-regular intervals. After the rifters defeat the first couple waves of demons, the pace of these reinforcements will slow—instead of a few minutes, it may be a few hours until the next batch comes. It is possible for your characters to close the rift themselves, but because they have no idea what they're doing it will require trial and error to figure out how, and all (or near enough) of them working together to succeed. This should take at least two days to manage.
Other than the stuff described in the post and the inventories everyone arrived with (as approved in your apps; please don't suddenly remember some other useful things in your characters' pockets) there is nothing in the crevasse except snow, ice, rock, and animal bones. But don't worry, we promise we're not leaving your characters all to die. Your characters have arrived in the Sunless Lands, and the Inquisition is on its way. When the mod plot post goes up this coming week, it will include a prompt to rescue all of you. Until that time, please refrain from RPing elsewhere in the game and enjoy this exclusive opportunity to bond with your rift-mates.
Your characters will be alone for approximately five days IC. Please keep them from wandering off too far, since that will make it implausible for the Inquisition to find and rescue them and then you won't get to play in the game. If they would insist on trying, you're welcome to use adverse weather, ice collapsing into other caves beneath them, or whatever other natural obstacles necessary to stall their progress. ]
no subject
[ because chicken is going to sound awesome after all the fish they're going to be eating for every meal. speaking of, Iorveth prods at the fish roasting on a spit made from one of his arrows, rotating it over the fire. ]
I've lived a century surviving mainly off the land. We have nothing in the way of spices, but I can cook it well enough to feed us.
[ It won't be anything fancy, but it won't make anyone sick, so that's good. ]
no subject
[ He's also usually a dragon, so raw meat goes down just as easy. He watches the fish crackle over the fire and he tries to ignore the little pang of hunger that creeps up on him. He's not going to be as weak as that. He has dignity (among other things). ]
So I'll eat whatever you provide me. Not the time and place to be picky about things, is it?
[ His smile is a bit thin, but look, he has a sense of humor! ]
going to assume this is after the group chat, if that's cool :O
[ which is somewhat of a joke. Alacruun markedly is not human, and thus, Iorveth is more relaxed with him. He's frankly glad he isn't the only one, but with just him, Six, Aro and Chance, they're still a small group in comparison. Speaking of Aro... ]
The language you spoke when the man with the dragonling arrived - what was that?
[ just out of curiosity. it sounded interested. ]
for sure!
Draconic. The language of dragons and quite often the language of wizards and sorcerers, at least where I come from.
[ He allows the inference to be that he is merely a wizard or sorcerer instead of something more. ]
Also used in many ancient histories and that sort of thing.
no subject
It isn't one I've heard before, having known all three of those. It must be something exclusive to your world.
[ He makes a mental note to look into it when he gets home. Ask Saskia about it as well. ]
Have you met many dragons?
no subject
[ That would be hilarious, but he has to hold back the laughter. He's met a great deal many dragons and considers himself something of an expert. Mostly because he is one, but he's not willing to share that information with anyone just yet. ]
They're interesting and powerful creatures. Why do you ask?
no subject
[ Saskia, maybe more than a friend. he'd been ready to help her claim a monarchy, mostly for the idea of the place she would make, a safe haven, but he'd not have gone for it where it anyone but Saskia in charge. Wouldn't trust any others to be honorable, fair and loyal. ]
She'd never been around many of her own kind. I imagined she'd like to know of them from other worlds. [ so he'll take back tales for her. ]
no subject
[ Like him, but he doesn't say that. ]
Dragons tend to be relatively solitary past their childhoods, from what I understand. They're... territorial. Some of them can get along well enough, but usually they don't gather in very large groups.
no subject
[ which is what the pontar valley was - a small piece, but one that would mean salvation for a dying race, and peace for so many others. she'd had the will and want to do it when none others would, no matter their motivations. ]
I believe her father taught her the basics of what life was, and then departed. So she tells me, at least.
no subject
Hm. That happens with some dragons, I think. Others actually care for and raise their young - and sometimes they raise themselves. Without knowing more about her and what sort of dragon she is, I couldn't say more.
no subject
[ and he misses her, especially with the knowledge of what threats are headed towards Vergen now. she'll be in dire need of help to fight back the war to come, and here he is, trapped in this frozen hell. ]
If it means much to you, she's daughter of a Golden father and Green mother. I believe she takes more after her father, in size and traits. [ he doesn't know nearly as much about the specifics are Geralt would, but he's had many long talks with Saskia as they'd traveled and plotted together. ] Regardless, she's adjusted well enough on her own.
no subject
That is not a pairing I thought I would've heard described. At least not where I'm from. Green and gold dragons traditionally don't get along - although I suppose anything is possible, isn't it?
[ He shakes his head. ]
...Different world, though. I'm sure she's managed. Most dragons do - one way or another.
no subject
[ Iorveth's head tilts, lips curling eventually in distaste, because he didn't really need to be picturing Saskia's parents conceiving her. or the weirdness that his imagination came up with for it. ]
I know it's the gold lineage that grants her the ability to alter her form and pass among humans. They're either much more rare, or discovered for what they are much less often. [ difficult to really say, given very few golden dragons come out and announce themselves while in shapeshifted forms. ]
She's done much more for our world than any human has, that's for certain.
no subject
[ He knows this from personal experience. ]
And dragons tend to be willful, stubborn, and prepared to go to great lengths to ensure their own success and to accomplish their goals. I'm not surprised that she's apparently done much to shape your world. It's in their nature.
no subject
[ He is a ray of sunshine and that is not, in any way, joking. Thankfully, today is not one of those days, and he's much enjoying Alacruun's company. New things have a way of intriguing him like that. ]
That list I could easily see attributed to her, yes. Though, if she were completely bullheaded, she wouldn't be where she is. Saskia's found followers in both humans and nonhumans for her causes, which are exactly that. Binding them peacefully. All without revealing her nature, but it's more than any of us have managed in 1,500 years.
no subject
[ He sounds more intrigued than anything else. ]
...1,500 years? What's happened in all that time? I don't know the history of your world - please. Tell me. I'd love to hear more.
no subject
[ Since he's been rambling about Saskia the last few minutes, he'd like to actually know something about where this person's from, and how they've come to know so much. But, ah. The point of history. He's hesitant for half a second, before a short, huffed laugh comes from him abruptly, a wry smirk on his scarred lips. ]
Humans happened. They landed on the shores of our Continent, and decimated everything in their path.
no subject
[ Alacruun flashes a smile. Also not technically a lie, but it still dances around the subject. ]
They're... feared. Sometimes for good reason, sometimes not. They're thought of as cruel creatures or at least arrogant. Which is sometimes true...
[ Humans ruin everything. He nods sympathetically. ]