DRAKONIS RIFTER ARRIVAL

[faderifting]

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.

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. ]

Comments

Re: im cool with free for all!

[whiskeyandbrimstone]

Jang stops as the other man puts his arm on her shoulder, and looks at Helena. "Alright, no need to panic, just prefer no one else die. What's your name? My name's Jane. That's Newt...What's yours?" She's speaking softly and carefully, trying to exude calm.

Turning to the man who stopped her, Jang says, quietly, as to not to alarm others, "Wait, we're not going back to base every day? We don't know what's going to happen. If a storm hits, we're dead. We can't camp out there. Have you ever been in a white-out storm?"

I'm also cool with free for all!

[somethingwild]

"I think he's saying that we are going to return to base," Newt speaks up from where he's been listening, tense and alert, gaze darting from face to face in their group. "Before dark, preferably. Today we'll go out West and try a different direction tomorrow, if I'm understanding correctly."

"I don't think any of us has plans to camp away from here," he adds. "But we could still encounter a storm, even while the light is out. We should be prepared for the worst, even if it never happens."

He rubs his gloved hands together, trying to gather more warmth in them.

[aenseidhe]

Iorveth's hand drops the moment Jang's forward motion halts - just a measure of warning. Much as he'd love to see Helena lose it on someone, now isn't the time. Maybe when they've made it to safety and out of this arctic hellhole, but not while they still need these people to care about their survival. Instead, he points to Newt after his comment.

"He has the right of it." He. Newt. Whatever, humans, it's not like we're getting married. "We venture west, return to sleep here, and venture another direction the next morn."

Why did the two of you volunteer to go scouting in the middle of icy bumfuck nowhere with two unstable murderers? Good luck. By way of making himself sound at least somewhat personable, he does answer the question of introduction.

"Iorveth." Pronounced "Your-Veth".

[whiskeyandbrimstone]

"Right right, sorry. Just making sure we're all on the same page, can't go takin things for granted, that's a great way to end up hitched neck deep in the bayou surrounded by alligators." Jang pauses for a moment in recollection. "Not my best day. That place reeked."

"Nice to meet you Iorveth. Don't suppose you've got any magical abilities?"

I shared this thread around with a few others who were keen to scout, so more folks may tag in :]b

[strangel]

Helena, for her part, remains ready to move, but less intent on doing so immediately - it's more a general watchfulness, as she resumes walking the way they decided to go, getting them moving.

She debates, for a moment, giving a fake name, just to be difficult. Beth. Katya. There are lots of different names that have gone with this face. Iorveth would know she was lying, though, so she just gives the other two a wary look, before glancing to Iorveth to see what his answer will be about magic.

Sounds cool!!

[aenseidhe]

Iorveth's head tilts minutely when Helena glances to him, eyes meeting. She hadn't liked the magic bard either, but Iorveth had assumed that was more to do with how he looked than what powers he possessed. Perhaps there's more to it.

"None." He answers simply, not the most charismatic person you'll ever meet. Either way, he follows after Helena, letting out a short, sharp whistle that grabs Chicken-Horse's attention (its name is Geralt, but whatever), the bird fluffing up it's feathers before taking off after what it may either think of as its master or its mother. Maybe both. After a bit of silence, he thinks to add on, for the sake of practicality.

"I'm an archer and a swordsman."

Re: Sounds cool!!

[whiskeyandbrimstone]

"Right then, stay behind us. I've got a rifle, and I'd really like to not shoot anyone accidently. Newt and I can take point, we'll be able to do some damage with our magic. Can the two of you make sure nothing sneaks up behind us?"

Jang flexes her fingers, a deck of cards seemingly appearing in her hand and she begins to shuffle it quickly, the cards flashing into vision before neatly folding away in the deck. "Unless you'd rather take point, don't matter much to me."

[somethingwild]

"I would like to add that, as much as I might wish to, I cannot guarantee how much damage my magic can do," Newt says hastily, speaking up at a louder tone than he usually does to in order to emphasize his point. "This place has made my magic unreliable, and it requires a good amount of energy to use it."

He nods at Iorveth. "So other, more reliable weapons are certainly welcome."

He finds himself staring at the chicken again, both out of fascination and because, a shameful part of him has to admit, he's picturing the sort of roast a chicken of such size might make.

"I like your pet, by the way."

[swordproof]

At the back, the Paladin had mostly been quiet; she had no reason to chit and chatter with people, but she has good reason for being part of the scouting party; she knows how to survive, how to take care of herself, how to fend for herself and others. She's also got a rather large greatsword strapped to her back, long and heavy looking, but she seems to wear it on her shoulders well enough - she ought to, considering that she's quite tall as well.

Everyone introduces themselves and she feels a fraction awkward, glancing between them all before she huffs something like an exasperated sigh, hesitation colouring her before she steps forward to join them properly.

"Six." That's her name, and she looks around, as if daring anyone to comment on it. "I was a Paladin, but I cannot use that power here. I still have my sword and I can use it well."

Convincing enough? She hopes so.

[strangel]

Six is low hanging fruit, so far as things to make comments about, although Helena does smile a little— Helena-ishly? when Six looks around to challenge them.

"What is Paladin?" The word is awkward and unfamiliar.

Helena, helpfully, still hasn't offered her name, keeping to the side of the group, closer to Iorveth and the wonder chicken. She's has a knife to hand, and long piece of wood from one of the scarecrow legs that she's sharpened into a viciously sharp spear.

[whiskeyandbrimstone]

"A paladin in a soldier in the service of a religion. If it's anything like a Blessed where I'm from, they can also call on the power of their god."

Jang nods to Six, "Nice to meet you Six. Alright, we are losin' daylight, unless there's any other problems, we should probably get going." Jang points at the rising sun. "Call that east. Plan was to head west right? Lets go with the sun at our backs till it's overhead, and then turn around. Also stop us from getting snow-blind."

[sorcerised]

"So you cannot call on your god here?" Aro says, turning to look curiously at Six. 'Paladin' makes sense enough to him, but he can't imagine why her god wouldn't answer her here. Surely a god is a god anywhere. Aro has no religion of his own, but he's known plenty of people like her, who gain power from the ones they worship. Paladins, Clerics. Even certain Sorcerers. Conscious of it, he touches the amulet around his neck.

"I've not noticed anything wrong with my magic. I'm Aro, by the way, and I agree with Jang. We need to be back before it gets dark."

He hefts his pack, better adjusting the weight, and keeps his quarterstaff in his hand, just in case.

[swordproof]

"I have been unable to use any of the gifts I was given from my Oath," Six is clearly upset, though it seems more frustration than anything else. She had fought for years without the powers given to her from her promises, but it still makes her uncomfortable to think that something here had cut her off entirely. "I have been unable to reach Her, even with my prayers. I can only assume something has cut off our connection."

Moving forward, she turns her head to look around, checking for any dangers.

"I can still fight, so it doesn't matter. We can continue."

[sorcerised]

Aro nods, though he's concerned. He doesn't like the idea that she, or any of their other companions, might have been weakened. His own pendant is a remnant of the dragon that had blessed him, but the dragon herself is gone. Her power is a part of Aro, now. There's no connection to be made; perhaps that's the difference. It's just…

"I don't understand how that could happen, even if we're in another realm. The gods are always in other realms."

If they could connect with their followers in Faerun, why not here? Where is here?

"I'm sorry for your loss. It must feel very strange."