Cloudreach 9:44 Rifter Arrival

[faderifting]

WHO: New rifters & their rescuers.
WHAT: Welcome to Thedas.
WHEN: Cloudreach 10, 9:44
WHERE: Amaranthine
NOTES: This is the arrival log for all new rifters, open also to current characters who would participate in their recovery. New players can also assume everyone survives and arrives back in Kirkwall within a couple of days, but please note there will be a brief quarantine period when they won't be permitted to leave the Gallows, to get them up to speed while ensuring they're not diseased or otherwise going to kill anyone, before they're set loose on the city.

You were asleep—whether deeply or fitfully, falling unconscious for the last time in a pool of blood 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 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, bathed in the light of a flare of too-bright, greenish light you will find yourself hitting mossy cobblestones with an unforgiving smack. You're alive, and you're fine, except for 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.

Above you is a shifting, crystalline tear in reality; beyond that, gray clouds and a sea breeze, framed by the high walls surrounding the city you've landed in. There are people on the walls, some of them armored and armed, all of them briefly and collectively paralyzed by the sight below.

Don't let their terror go to your head. It's not you that has them intimidated, nor is it any of the humans (or Qunari) who are sprawled out on the ground around you, nor is it the assortment of unfamiliar—to them, not to you, perhaps to you it's very familiar—junk that's spilled out as well, most notably some flaming metallic debris and a giant wooden cross.

It's the beings that are coming out after you, almost as if in pursuit. Two are drifting, spindly things with six spidery limbs in addition to grasping skeletal arms, eager to grab hold of anyone who comes too close and fill their field of vision with swirling darkness and corner-of-the-eye glimpses of whatever frightens them. Several more most closely resemble trees, perhaps, with half-melted squids for heads—which might not sound particularly scary, fine, but their ability to dive into the ground and resurface anywhere with rasping screams helps on that front.

All of these things would like to kill you, and the people around you, and the people on the walls, and perhaps the other people screaming and scurrying into taverns and shops for cover. But you're not alone. Out of those same taverns and shops come people who do seem to know what they're doing; many are wearing a symbol that looks a bit like a hairy eyeball being pieced through by a sword, and at least a couple of them seem to know what they're doing. Almost like they've been waiting for you. In fact, exactly like they've been waiting for you.

---

AFTERWARDS, the grateful citizens of the City of Amarenthine might provide a drink, a meal, or a place to tend to wounds before everyone sets back toward Kirkwall. It's not a long trip, but one that requires boarding a ship to cross a narrow sea. It will be a rough, stormy journey, but there won't be any demons.

Comments

II

[aenseidhe]

"Amarenthine, in a realm they call Thedas." Iorveth answers him, from not far away, where he'd inspecting the heavy branch that had fallen out of the rift behind Poe, a knife cutting away some of the bark to inspect the grain of the wood underneath. He speaks in a distracted tone, but clearly enough. He might recognize him from the fight prior as one of the Inquisition fighters that arrived to assist the new rifters, sniping demons with the large, traditional hand carved but oddly designed bow at his back now, and once his arrows were spent, the twin swords at his hips.

"We're going to a ship, that will take us across the sea to Kirkwall - an ugly mound of buildings that stinks of dead fish and unbathed humans most days." Taking off a glove, the glow of his anchor shard marking his as a rifter shows, but the elf is most interested in running his fingers along the wood grain he's inspecting. "The Inquisition has a base of operations there."

Seeming to be satisfied with his inspection, he puts a foot on the branch, moving it around some, maybe testing the weight, before he looks up to Poe.

"Are you using this?"

[gotyourselfapilot]

"Realm? Are there other realms?" Thedas would be a name that he'll keep in mind. Poe will try to get information from Iorveth as long as he was willing to share. He doesn't seem afraid at the weaponry that the other carried. If anything he was curious about them. He hadn't really been paying attention to the branch under him.

Poe kept his extra line of questioning to himself for now. He didn't want to seem as if that was all he had to say. "There has to be some that call it home regardless of the living conditions." The shard catches his eye, at least Iorveth would understand all the questioning. Poe only wanted to find out more so he could understand where exactly it is that he was living.

A small tilt of his head at the question of the branch. Poe gives a small shrug. The branch was from a dream, but there couldn't have been anything from home within it. Or maybe there could? For now, he'll have a question that would seem important. He looks over at the elf.

"What are you going to use the wood for?"

[aenseidhe]

"Worlds. The one you came here from is one. My own homeworld is another. Each rifter hails from a different one." Dimensions would be the word he's looking for, but science isn't advanced so far in Iorveth's reality, which is currently around the 1200s. Due to some magic cataclysmic insanity, they've been introduced to the concept of differing dimensions, but the word hasn't been brought about yet. For now - realms.

As for Kirkwall, the elf looks up to Poe at the statement that surely some call it home, giving him a blank stare, before letting out a snort, and going back to his inspection of the branch. "There are. Many call it home. They're either fools or wastes of air. Or, the Inquisition."

They're the city elves or the mages or the poor, and there's the gluttonous upper class that walks on their backs. As for the branch in question -

"Bows."

[gotyourselfapilot]

He's not in that much surprise. Poe knows everyone could come from different planets. Worlds shouldn't be any different but the rifts seem to be connecting them to this one. Science really wasn't a big thing for him either, he would rather be a pilot, but without wings he feels a bit useless. However Poe would learn that he has other skills that he could put to use. He's quick to adapt and willing to learn.

Poe tilts his head a little while looking away. He wondered about who the fools might be. "The Inquisition? What kind of group are they exactly?"

Kirkwall doesn't seem as if it'll be all that bad. But learning more about the people within it's walls would be a good idea. Poe presses his lips together.

"Will it be used by only yourself or by others?"

[aenseidhe]

Quick to adapt and willing to learn will be things Poe will need in Thedas, as it turns much of what rifters come in knowing on their heads. Less for Iorveth, as his world was very similar, but there's been many core differences that have throw him for a loop as well. Dimensional travel, it's a bitch like that.

Also, the fools in that comment would be the alienage elves. Another similarity between this world and Iorveth's - some idiots just don't know how to get out from under a boot.

"The Inquisition is the militant group that battles the causes of those rifts, like the one that brought you here. There's a demon that was once a man that's brought a devastating imbalance to this world, causing things to bleed through like that." They're people saving the worlds, but more than that. They have a powerful seat, and their hands are in a lot of political pots. Those are details Poe will have to learn on his own.

"By others. I have my own bow."

It's the huge, weird looking, near composite designed thing in the holster on his back, with ornate carvings along the wood.

[gotyourselfapilot]

This whole situation and planet has turned him around. Poe could end up learning too much all at once but at least then his mind could wander on that new information. It'll keep him focus on something new and not linger on different paths, things could be different.

Poe will need a lot of help in the training of weapons but not so much in the hand to hand combats.

"How long has this militant group been working together? What exactly do they fight for?" His questions are quick as if he may have asked these before. Recruiting takes time and sometimes certain questions are good to ask. It helps judge certain traits better. Poe will have to get to digging into those things. He'll be interested in learning as much as he can.

"By those others. Are they people you trust or the Inquisition?"

The weird looking thing at Iorveth's back doesn't seem as if it could do anything. Yet, Poe had seen people using them with something. Arrows would be his best guess from stories he has heard.

[aenseidhe]

"Roughly four years, I believe."

He has a date written in a small notebook stuffed in one of his packs, notes and thoughts kept and written in a language none of this realm will understand, but he's not looking to begin a lecture on his findings at the moment. "Their main focus is defeating Corypheus, to stop him from turning this realm inside out, infested with demons and monsters, a twisted hell. Though many of the common people seem to think they're around to fight mobsters and rescue kittens from trees instead."

The number of inane quests they're asked to take on is utterly ridiculous, but Iorveth isn't the one in charge, and for once, he's happy with that. Let Beleth deal out who's to be on kitten duty. The question of what's to be done with the bows, though, has Iorveth straightening up, and looking over to him for the first real time in this conversation, scanning over the man as if assessing.

"People I trust need them. Some in the Inquisition, yes." There's something close to defensive in his voice, but not quite that hostile yet. Just guarded. "Does it concern you?"

Welcome to the politics of Thedas (and the Continent, though that's off in Witcher-verse). A human seeing an elf creating weapons in this world would mean calling authorities. A human hearing an elf creating weapons and learning of the plan to distribute them would likely lead to the assumption that he's giving them to other elves (he is), and that would lead to a hanging.

Iorveth dares any to try.

[gotyourselfapilot]

"Four years," He gives a whistle since it's not too long but long enough to be familiar. "Have they been fighting all those monsters since then as well? Or has there always been a fight against that one? Well, I hope to become more useful with training. I'm not familiar with the weaponry of this world."

Poe raises an eyebrow at the defensive tone. He doesn't have to give Iorveth the branch. But he really has no skill or use for it. "I don't know anything about this world and I barely know anyone currently. My best judgement is that the branch will be put to use instead of withering away to dirt."

There's a pause because he doesn't know all of Thedas' politics. Maybe he doesn't need to know currently. Poe is all about freedom anyway. "I would rather the branch gets put to use. I don't need names if that's your concern. As long as they are people you trust I don't need to know more." There's things that are best left untold.

[aenseidhe]

"As I understand it, yes. What I know I've learned through study and research, however. I've only been in this realm a handful of months." It isn't sensitive information to give, and nothing Poe couldn't figure out easily enough in asking anyone else on the way back to Kirkwall. As for his weapons training... Iorveth watches him for a moment moment, as he starts to cut the smaller branches free, making them easier to transport.

"The Inquisition base in Kirkwall has a generous training courtyard, and many willing to impart knowledge. You won't want for assistance in that." Which is not necessarily Iorveth offering to train him, but... maybe. It's possible. They'll have to see.

He's pleased, through, that the man makes no argument about the branch, or the weapons to come from it, Iorveth nodding his appreciation.

"Better that you don't. There are many unfairly denied the means to defend themselves in this world." Which is maybe what he's doing, supplying those people, but maybe not, he isn't confirming it completely. "And the Inquisition could use for more practice bows than those crude ones put together by human bowyers that wouldn't know proper tension if it slapped them on the ass."

[gotyourselfapilot]

Poe knew they just met there's no way he would ask about where he got his information from. He could easily talk around if needed. Try to warm the natives in speaking to him or others if needed. That charisma is high based and he would be helpful to anyone. "Have you heard of anyway of leaving from here?" He needed to ask, maybe there might be many answers to that question.

"Well, I'm going to need a lot of training in things. My knowledge is from a place with high advance technology. A place where it's main travel is flying. Although you can find yourself walking endlessly on a desert planet if you don't have a speeder or another way to travel." He makes a small gesture with his hand while giving a partial shrug with his left shoulder. "Blasters is what I'm used to. Not what I've seen being used against the demons or your bow."

The branch can be made into something useful and weapons are needed in this world. If they are to fight the demons. Poe knows that much, he also knows resources can be limited. He's lived in that life for sometime with the Resistance. Not long, but enough to know where his limitations can be. It's mostly what you can get no one else is helping them.

"I would rather they defend themselves against a threat than not be able to. I've seen what a threat can do to a whole village of innocents that don't know how to fight." That may have been back in his home world but he's sure it could happen here as well. "I guess we have a deal when it comes to the branch and the bow making. I wouldn't know anything about that myself. My skills are in other things."

[aenseidhe]

“Not intentionally, no.” While the answer is vague, it’s the most accurate. “Rifters simply disappear back into the Fade at times, with no prior warning, and no evidence of how.”

Just there one moment, gone the next.

‘Blasters’, he says, and Iorveth has no fucking clue what he’s talking about. He isn’t a fan of advertising his ignorance, though that’s likely unavoidable by now, but still, he offers a short nod, rather than stating which parts he understood and which he didn’t, before moving on.

“Seeing it doesn’t always mean much to anyone.” There’s always witnesses to heinous crimes, especially the social ones, the racists, the prejudice. People being beaten in the streets, imprisoned for no reason, lynched. There’s always someone watching, but never anyone doing something about it. Poe suggests he’s different, but Iorveth’s always been of the ‘I’ll believe it when I see it’ persuasion. “Good you recognize it, at least.”

So, there’s that. He mentions ‘deal’, and Iorveth squints at him, walking back through the conversation and trying to recall if a price had been stated anywhere, or if this is just a phrase. Seems more the latter, and he nods, picking up some rope he’d collected to start lashing the pieces together.

“What manner of skills would those be?”