faderift | OPEN ↠ HEART LIKE ICE

OPEN ↠ HEART LIKE ICE

WHO: New Rifters & Inquisition Members
WHAT: A journey south to make new friends and kick some ass
WHEN: Drakonis 15-25
WHERE: Sunless Lands
NOTES: Violence and language assumed. Warn for anyting else. OOC post.

The Sunless Lands are not, in fact, sunless. This time of year there can be as many as eight hours of daylight, some of it blinding where it reflects off of snow and ice that stretches from the southern edge of the Kocari Wilds as far as anyone can see, broken only occasionally by rocky masses of land jutting out of the snow cover or barren tundra peeking out in patches where constant, unforgiving wind has pushed it aside. You'll be traversing this span primarily on foot—there are sleighs, too, pulled by hardy dogs, but they're carrying essential supplies rather than spare people. The only way to get a ride is to successfully feign passing out.

Beyond the dogs, the area isn't devoid of native wildlife: white fennecs hunt rodents underground, and a herd of excessively fluffy wild druffalo is seeking out whatever vegetation it can find. But hunting down a meal or two early and preserving rations for further south would not be a bad idea, because the further south the team travels, the more inhospitable the terrain grows, and the less life can be seen. And sometimes not much of anything can be seen, when clouds roll by and burst with snow thick enough to halt progress entirely for hours.

The nights are cloudy as often as clear, but when they are clear the sky is split by green and purple ribbons of light.

I. THE RESCUE

Two days' journey south, the monotonously icy horizon is broken by something new: smoke rising in interrupted puffs, an intentional signal. Someone is out there. Chances are, it's the rifters, with or without their first group of intended rescuers. But there's no way to be sure. And approaching with caution is wise either way. Rifters have strange powers (and strange personalities), and they've been out here for days now, dealing with demons and Maker knows what else on their own. For all anyone knows, they could be the reason for the rescue team's disappearance. Orders are to approach carefully.

Then, once contact has been made and initial concerns have been allayed, make sure those poor people have something to eat, and try to figure out where their original rescuers disappeared to.

II. THE STORM

After the rifters are recovered, there's still the matter of the red lyrium mine to address. Another two days' journey south will put the group within good range of the mine: not so close as to be seen, but close enough to be able to get there in a couple of hours as needed.

Halfway there, however, in the middle of the day, progress comes to an abrupt half when the darkest clouds yet gather suddenly on the horizon and barrel down on the group, bringing with them a glut of snow that reduces visibility to only a few feet and wind that roars so loudly you have to shout to be heard. Magic can help some with heat, but the storm shows little sign of quickly abating and with hours of deadly cold conditions to deal with, digging in and getting cozy for a few hours might be the most feasible solution for everyone.

III. THE VILLAGE

Shortly before the point everyone is aiming for—one marked by an enormous stone carving of an owl, several times taller than a man, that's inexplicably been left by the ancients in the center of the tundra—something else appears not far to the west. On closer inspection, it turns out to be a circle of low-sitting animal-skin tents pressed down into the snow to protect them from wind, rocky fire pits, and abandoned sleighs. Overall, it's a cross between camp and village indicative of a nomadic group that's staying a while but not forever.

It's empty now, with a coating of snow on most of the structures that indicates it's been at least a few days since anyone was here. Closer inspection reveals personal belongings inside the tents, including toys and clothing belonging to children—and, in many tents, chunks of red lyrium in the center or beneath the skins that form the beds, each piece emanating heat. They probably thought it was safer than fire.

Wherever they went, they don't come back while the Inquisition is there. But the activity does get noticed. A few hours after arrival, enormous white bears apparently moving in a pack come within a hundred yards of the camp and pace at a distance, watching the interlopers with wary interest. Some of them are wearing collars or harnesses decorated in the same style as the tents. For enough food, they may come closer, and they'll turn out to be abnormally tame.

IV. THE BATTLE

The red lyrium mine that Corypheus' followers built when their operations were crippled in Emprise du Lion is nestled in an icy canyon, with massive scaffolding built up the sides of the cliff and too many cages to count, though few of them hold living prisoners anymore. It's a massive operation, but one that's been crippled by its distance from civilization. It's sparsely guarded compared to its size, and other than the cliffs, it has minimal natural protection. The enemy has magic-silencing Templars, enormous behemoths, and a chained white-furred giant, but they are clearly not prepared to be attacked.

Ahead of the onslaught, traps are set and any surviving prisoners are evacuated under cover of darkness. Everyone else sent to fight either creeps down shortly before dawn, rappelling quietly to avoid notice in the dark, or waits at the top for the first surprise strike to provide enough distraction for them to descend more openly. If anyone has been particularly nice to the bears (see above) then it is entirely possible they'll allow themselves to be ridden into battle.

Once their presence is known, their orders are pretty simple. Destroy it all. Leave no one behind and nothing worth returning for.

Fire is a good strategy. Red lyrium doesn't do well in heat.

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iii;

The scavenger in Rey wants to pick through the village, find anything of value and hoard it, use it to help with their survival. Of course, she for the most part refrains, through she does poke around the village all the same, Padawan a steady presence at her side. She's trying to stay busy, and when she sees the red lyrium crystals being used as heat sources in so many tents, she finds that there's plenty of work for her here.

She makes herself useful by utilizing the Force to move the crystals out of the tents, lifting them carefully and stacking them up outside to be destroyed. Maybe what's inside the tents can be safely gone through after that, but she knows better than to touch the crystals.

Padawan supervises this work, sitting well away from the danger zone on Rey's orders, ears pricking and head turning towards anyone who comes near her partner as she works. Rey glances up, her focus not wavering as she holds her hands in front of her, bringing out larger crystals with care.

"These need to be destroyed. I don't know what these people were doing with them, but if we find them alive they can't come back and keep using these for heat."

iv.

Rey is a force to be reckoned with in battle, and she has an odd ferocity as she fights. She wields twin blades of light, brilliantly blue and humming as she cuts through red templars. She's fast, and has a mabari at her side tearing at anything that she cripples but doesn't kill.

That is of course until she gets backhanded by the giant. She'd turned into the swing and clipped the creature's hand with one of her blades, but she's sent skidding across the ground, dazed by the impact. She still holds her lightsabers by sheer will, but they are extinguished as she attempts to blink away the stars swimming across her vision. Padawan stands over her, growling as templars advance on the downed scavenger.

Newt finds himself wandering the village, curious about the goings-on and trying to help where he can. He's been trying to avoid using his magic where he can, wanting to preserve his energy, but he's had to employ it once or twice in assisting in ridding of the red lyrium. As he wanders, he can't help but notice how much of the stuff there seems to be. Part of him thinks it's a waste, not to take advantage of the heat radiating from the red lyrium, but then he remembers what he's been told about the effects of red lyrium, and that part of him quiets.

He can't help but stop to watch as a young woman seems to make red lyrium float in front of her outside of a tent, as though by magic.

Newt makes his way over, cautiously and curiously.

"Is that magic you're doing?" He asks, watching her and the way she moves her hands to guide the red lyrium.

Rey is used to people assuming that what she's doing is magic. Even in her own universe, the Jedi were often referred to as 'wizards' or 'sorcerers.' Since coming to Thedas, she's been gradually relaxing her definition, though she still doesn't consider it magic, not exactly.

So that's why she wrinkles her noses at the question, gently relaxing her fingers as the red lyrium settles on the ground with it's buddies.

"Not exactly. I'm using something called the Force." She turns to regard her visitor, resting her hands on her hips as Padawan stands and trots over to lean against Rey's side. Both human and mabari tilt their heads in curiosity, though only Rey speaks. "You're one of our new arrivals? I'm Rey."

The mention of the Force catches Newt's attention. From what he can see, it appears like another word for magic, wandless magic, at that. But he isn't the one with those abilities, so he doesn't question it. Indeed, this is another new thing in this new world for him to learn about, so he might as well listen to her. Though he hasn't heard this Force mentioned by others yet, so perhaps this young woman comes from somewhere else, like himself?

His attention is soon drawn to the large dog at her side, who seems to mirror the way she tilts her head in looking at him.

"Yes," he nods. "I'm Newt Scamander. Is that your dog? It's a lovely creature."

She smiles a little at the question, looking down at the mabari and resting her hand on Padawan's broad head. The dog tips her head back to look up at Rey, mouth opening and tongue lolling out in a doggy grin.

"More like she adopted me. This is a mabari, they're native to this world, and very particular about who they take orders from. She belonged to my Master but... when he left she ended up following me around. I'm a rifter, too." Pulling her glove off she holds up her left hand, exposing the green shard embedded there. It's strange how used to it she's become, she almost doesn't notice it anymore.

Newt can't help but feel charmed by the sight of the mabari and the way she obviously adores Rey. He also likes the fact that the mabari seems to have picked out her human herself.

"She seems very fond of you," he points out.

He brightens with interest when she mentions being a rifter herself. If she hadn't told him so or shown him her shard, he would have continued mistaking her for a native.

"Really?" He asks, pulling off his glove to show his own shard. "How long have you been here, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm fond of her too," Rey replies earnestly, smiling down at the mabari before focusing back on their conversation. She looks down at the shard on her hand, sighing, before pulling her glove back on.

"A year and a half. We have some who have been here even longer than I have. Three years now, I think?" Which she realizes isn't a terribly hopeful promise, in the grand scheme of things. Welcome to Thedas, you may never see home again.

Newt smiles again at that. If nothing else, that animals of a strange variety exist here gives him comfort. Perhaps he'll have a chance to learn more about the various sorts of creatures that make up Thedas' wildlife.

"Merlin," he says, eyes widening a bit. "That's...quite a long time." He can't imagine being here so long, but what choice does he have, really? He'll just have to make the best of it, somehow. There's no point dwelling on what he can't change.

"Does it get any easier, over time?" He feels as though he has to ask, though he thinks he can probably guess part of the answer.

"Um," she hesitates, not entirely sure how to answer that. A week ago, she would have absolutely said yes. She's made friends here, connections she's never really had before. While she missed Finn very much, he was someone she had known for a few terrifying days. These people, she had forged real bonds with, and was starting to truly feel like she belonged somewhere.

And then she'd woken up with new memories, fresh, confusing, and painful at times. Now she ached for her friend who she had only just seen again, longed for General Organa to appear and give her some direction. It's hard all over again.

"It depends on the person. Araceli came with the very first wave of rifters. She's been here longer than anyone, and she's adapted well to being here. She's practically a native, in some ways. Others... have had a harder time adjusting. But we try to take care of each other."

Newt nods. It makes sense, that different people react differently to finding themselves suddenly in a world that isn't their own. Just as different creatures react differently in order to survive, in a way.

He's fascinated by Thedas, himself, but he also can't help but miss home, all the same. He's spent much of his time traveling, and he'd been on the verge of heading for home when he fell through to this world. He does wish he would have gotten a chance to at least see his London flat again before being thrust into this new adventure. Not to mention, he already misses his new friends dearly. Finding himself in an entirely new world only makes him feel such a separation all the more keenly.

"It's a lot to take in," he says. "And a lot to deal with. I suppose there is comfort to be found in the fact that we aren't alone in falling through the rifts," he muses with a small smile.

"Your situation was a little unique, too. Ordinarily there's a group waiting to help when you first arrive." She can't entirely imagine how jarring their arrival must have been, to wake up in a strange world and be surrounded by creatures trying to kill them, and then to have no idea where you are and how to get out of there.

When she'd arrived she'd woken up in the snow on a mountainside. That at least would have had a clear escape route. This place there was just... nothing.

"You did well for yourselves, surviving until help arrived."

"Well, I'm glad to hear not all arrivals are like...that unique situation," Newt says, bemused. He still can't believe that it happened, winding up in a crevasse with a group of strangers, none of them knowing where they were or what to expect. And then the creatures known as demons, as well as the giant scarecrow, and the bug-like creatures all seemed to have swarmed in at once.

And then finally making it out of the hole in the ground, only to wind up stranded in an abandoned camp, rations and supplies dwindling with each passing hour. He shudders as he remembers.

"It feels like a miracle, still," he admits. "I think the fact that some of us had magic and abilities certainly helped."

Rey nods her head, her eyes drifting out over the abandoned village, slightly narrowed.

"That shouldn't have happened. If you hadn't been able to defend yourselves..." she trails off, not really needing to finish the sentence. It's strange, that both the Inquisition camp and this village were so uniformly abandoned.

"Do you have magic?" She asks, her gaze returning to Newt. She realizes the way he phrased that makes it a little unclear, but he'd also jumped right to 'magic' when he'd seen her floating the red lyrium.

Newt nods, letting the sentence remain unspoken. They would have all certainly died within hours of arrival, and he knows it. Death by the creatures known as demons would have been the most pleasant choice, among the various options.

The sight of the sprawling, empty village leaves him with a similar hollow feeling in his chest. Nothing good could have happened here.

“Yes,” he answers. As far as he knows, there’s no sort of Statue of Secrecy here regarding magic; magic, and this Force, seem to be used rather openly. He sees no point in lying. “Although, it hasn’t worked as reliably as it should be.”

"That can happen. The Veil here, it tends to mess with things not from this world. I had a friend here a while ago, she did magic in her own world but had some trouble here. She started learning more about the magic of this world and it helped her better understand how to make her own work." Rey and Hermione had talked a little about magic, and the study of it, when Rey had lost her mentor, because she'd suddenly lost her link to the Jedi Order, and all the things she hadn't yet learned. Turning to trying to understand the magic of this world had helped Rey too, though only slightly.

"It's never quite the same, but it helps."

“Really?” Newt asks, perking up with interest. He is especially curious as to this Veil and how it works in regards to affecting magic, but to hear that other people have fallen through with magic of their own is heartening, in its way. And to hear that studying the magic of Thedas could potentially help him with his own makes him happy and a bit relieved, if he’s being truly honest with himself.

“That is very good to know,” he says. “This friend of yours, did she use a wand, by any chance?”

It is a long shot, he knows, but he’s eager to know if anyone else from his world has been here.

"She told me she did, though it was damaged when she came through the rift. She was trying to adapt, and I helped her with physical self-defense." Which had been staff training, though Rey's use of a staff is considered a little ghastly by some mages. To her, it's been the difference between life and death a thousand times on Jakku. Even now that she has two lightsabers, she still wouldn't travel anywhere without her staff.

"Really?" Newt says. He finds comfort in the fact that someone else has been here with a wand, and that they, too, struggled. He feels less like a newly sorted student at Hogwarts, hearing that it isn't just his own wand and magic that require adjusting. "So it sounds like magic from outside of Thedas tends to...clash, so to speak."

It occurs to him that he, himself, should learn some self-defense, particularly of the physical sort. He doesn't even have one of his traveling kettles with him, alas.

"So, you teach self-defense?" He asks, curious.

"I imagine that since we came here by more or less magical means, that causes... interference. I'm not really the one to ask, I'm more experienced with machines than magic." Not that there was much of the former in this place. She misses the Falcon. It might have been a piece of junk, but it was soothing to work on something that she knew she could fix, knew how to get from point A to point B and didn't have to sit and puzzle out how to best make it work.

At his question she tilts her head and lifts one shoulder in a half shrug.

"I taught her. I don't really teach it, but if someone asks me for help I know a few things."

"No, that makes sense, in its own way," Newt nods. He wouldn't expect magic to work the same in different worlds. (He wouldn't expect different worlds to begin with, but recent experience has proven him quite well beyond wrong on that front.)

"So you work with machines?" He asks, curious. "Are you a mechanic?"

He considers that, and he considers the fact that he almost certainly could use lessons in self-defense.

"What sorts of things?"

"Sort of?" Explaining that she was a Force-sensitive scavenger who had spent her life salvaging broken things took a lot longer than saying mechanic. Though she hasn't been working with machines of the kind she's used to much, lately. "I'm actually in maintenance back at the Gallows. There aren't many machines here for me to work with."

At his other question she tilts her head to the side, reaching back to touch the staff slung to her back.

"I know how to fight with this, using an opponent's strength against them, fighting with speed."

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somethingwild - 2018-04-01 15:12 (UTC) - Expand

"If they live,"

It's gruff — though not for any special feeling; her throat's yet shot of the past day's exertions. Wren leans upon her crutch, keeps a polite distance of the mabari.

"We will not need warn them of it."

Witnesses to horror, or already steeping in it. It's going to be grim for morale, if they have to put anyone down. A short gesture to Rey, beckoning.

"Look around. What do you see?"

Edited 2018-03-28 06:59 (UTC)

The possibility of them finding the people who had lived here alive, only for them to die due to the red lyrium exposure had in fact crossed Rey's mind, but she's pushed it down, trying to remain hopeful.

Wren of course draws her attention back to it. Allowing the piece Rey has held in front of her to settle out of the way she exhales, straightening her posture as she brushes her hands off on her legs, a subconscious gesture because she was very deliberately not handling the red lyrium.

"They didn't leave because they wanted to. Things wouldn't have been left behind like this," she replies, after stopping to look around them.

"Abrupt," She agrees. To leave without even a child's blanket? "But no signs of violence."

No blood, no marks of struggle. She stoops, awkward, to a knee before the crystals. Doesn't touch; gloved hands and a healthy caution (that she can afford some exposure is not cause to test).

"The bears came for us," A glance over her shoulder to the distant pack. "However calm they have been, I imagine that to change for threat. Either this was quickly-done, or they were not taken by force alone."

"There was word last month, of the Ferelden Wilds." She rubs her jaw, doesn't yet go to the fumbled trouble of standing once more. "An afflicted nomad."

Rey realizes with vague horror at what Wren is postulating and her brow furrows as she turns to look back at the tent she'd emerged from. Sometimes she knows someone in tune with the Force can sense when things of great trouble have happened in a place, but she either isn't sensitive enough, or there simply isn't anything here for her to pick up.

"They could all be infected."

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OPEN ↠ HEART LIKE ICE

Rey

III.

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iii hella late

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