faderift | Cloudreach 9:44 Rifter Arrival

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Cloudreach 9:44 Rifter Arrival

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.

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"It takes that long? Great." Tessa has already had to get used to no internet, running water, and the like back home, so hopefully there's not so much more here that's different. Granted, there's magic, so she already knows of one, and there's no telling just how she'll come to terms with all that.

"So any tips you feel like giving? What am I in for?"

"It's an... interesting world, all things considered. Strange way of doing magic, strange elves, fascinating history... Chaotic, of course. Squabbling nations and independent cities, all trying to stay on top. Some sort of ancient evil lurking in the wings, waiting to kill us all..."

He waves a hand dismissively, "At least they give us a place to stay and food to eat. Which is more than could be expected, considering we're byproducts of these rifts... At least as far as they're concerned."

"Sounds like a movie," she mutters glumly, more to herself than to him. Magic, elves, ancient evil? Yeah, Tessa definitely doesn't want to be messing with that last one. Seems like a good way to get cursed. Isn't that what always happens in those films?

But the food and shelter bit? Not a bad thing. Tessa's gotten used to scavenging for food and safe places to hole up for the night, so to have it handed to her is a welcome relief.

"It'll be a nice change to not go searching for my own meal," she says thoughtfully. But since that's all sorted, she'll focus on the rifts part. "So we're a byproduct? What's making these rifts happen if not us?"

"I've no idea. From what I can tell, someone tried to open a hole to the Fade - it's a sort of alternate plane of existence overlaid on this one - and started tearing apart the fabric of reality. Which, as you can imagine, didn't do anything positive for stability. Or us, in this case."

Alacruun sounds a bit glum about it, but what can one do? It wasn't his fault, but now he has to find a way to fix it (or perhaps perish with the rest of this world if it all goes horribly wrong).

"Certainly doesn't do anything for our hands."

He holds up his left hand to show off his shard.

You know, Tessa figured she could get by in life without good grades in science, but now she's wondering if that's the case. All this talk of rifts and the Fade has her wondering if anyone here knows just what the hell is going on.

"So, basically, to understand all this garbage and make sure the world doesn't turn inside out, we need to study the shit out of it and find a solution." Yeah, they're screwed.

But she holds up her own left hand in solidarity, green glow prominent. "Nope. I was told it wouldn't hurt so much in a few hours, but the waiting kind of sucks. I don't want any of this world's medicine, though. Not if I can help it." Chalk it up to a recent experience with being sedated.

"Essentially, yes," Alacruun sounds... well, not pleased, but also not too alarmed. He enjoys studying, so it's not as if it's going to be any great burden on him. What's more irritating is the form he's found himself trapped in.

"They do have some healing magic," he continues, "Although I honestly can't find too much fault with their medicine. It's served me well in the short time I've been here."

He recalls another conversation he had very soon after his arrival.

"Ah - are you also from one of those worlds with 'science' and all of that wondrously advanced technology?"

Tessa really just doesn't want to think about medicine right now, so she lets out a humming sound of acknowledgement and moves on from that thread of the conversation.

"Compared to here? Yeah, it's pretty advanced. We've been to the moon, we have machines to do everything, pretty much, and--" She stops herself. "Well, we did. Society kind of went to shit and now we're just trying to survive." Only she's not there anymore. What does that mean for her?

"That sounds - ah. Not familiar. But similar to what others have described to me. I'm afraid that my world lacks such advanced machines, although we certainly have magic..." Alacruun muses on that. So many worlds with technology, but not so many with magic. Strange how that works - but it was magic that brought them all here. So maybe it doesn't particularly matter in the end.

He cocks his head in her direction, suddenly curious.

"What exactly happened to your world that made your civilization... fall?"

He's not trying to be rude. He's just rather invasive with his questions.

"Ugh, there was this virus that spread rapidly," she says, drawing up her legs towards her chest. It isn't easy to talk about, especially since it's all so fresh, but she may as well talk about it now that she's out of that place. "It attacked the brain and turned people into these mindless, rabid animals. They'd attack healthy people and-- and kill them. And eat them. And if you were attacked but managed to get away, odds are you'd become infected too, and turn into one of the mindless ones. We called them zombies. So many turned that society just fell apart. No one to run industries, clean water facilities, power companies; anything and everything we were used to having in everyday life was gone."

It was like being a baby again, and having to learn everything for the first time. How do you start a fire? What can you forage that's safe to eat? How do you hide your scent? It had been a crash course in survivalism, and she sure wouldn't have made it on her own without the help of the guy who stumbled across her. If only he were here with her, free from that world too.

Virus is a word he hasn't heard before, but he's familiar enough with the idea of a disease or plague and as she describes it, he grasps the idea. His expression furrows thoughtfully as he considers. It's a tragic tale, but one he's very detached from. he doesn't honestly care that much about what may or may not have happened to a civilization on another world, but it's still interesting to hear about.

"Zombies. I know about zombies, but their method of creation was... very different. Hardly the harbingers of the apocalypse, like yours seemed to be."

He sounds mildly interested in that. Then again, he would rather avoid being zombified himself. He has other plans.

"Then again, I've heard about plagues that... might be able to do that. Read about them anyway. Never heard of one actually being released."

"I guess the word is used differently in different places?" She's still trying to get used to this whole "multiple worlds" concept. Don't ask her how they're even speaking the same language right now. They probably aren't. It's probably some weird magic thing that makes them able to understand each other. In fact, she'll just say things are magic when she can't explain them. Much simpler than trying to figure it all out.

"Yeah, it was a surprise to us too. Like we had movies and books and everything that talked about zombies and what would happen, but I guess we never believed it would be anything other than fiction. But we were wrong."

"The problem with tales is that there is often a grain of truth to them, even if we think they're entirely made up..." Alacruun replies with a murmur and a shrug that isn't quite sympathetic. It's all very much distant to him, but he's trying to be polite. Or as polite as he ever gets.

"Maybe there's still a chance for recovery."

"Huh. Truuuue." She draws the word out as she considers the truth in tales. That's some wise shit right there.

"I don't know. Maybe. It's a pretty optimistic view, and I kinda lost all that from living day to day in that place." But the last shred of optimism flew away while in the hospital. She thought she could help find a cure, but from the desperation of the med staff, she saw that probably wasn't the case.

"I've never lived through such a thing, so I can't honestly help you with any glimmerings of hope. But there's always a solution to a problem - even if it's an unpalatable one that you have to choke down temporarily."

He speaks from experience in that regard, anyway. He's had to make his share of compromises to keep himself moving. To keep climbing. He makes a little noise and settles his chin in his hand.

"I find that giving up does little for the spirit and even less for the odds of success."

It does sound like an answer that comes with experience. She's kind of curious what that was for him, but at the same time, it seems like a dick move to ask. He's trying to help her out here, and she shouldn't press for more detail.

"Yeah, things don't tend to happen if no one tries," she agrees, though a voice tells her that the methods used in "trying" can do more harm than good. But maybe she's just bitter at how much she was poked and prodded and treated like an experiment rather than a person.

"But as long as I'm here... then there's nothing I can contribute to home anyway. I've got to figure this place out instead."

"Welcome to, as they say, the club," Alacruun sighs, "I'm having to figure out magic almost from scratch. It's similar and yet... incredibly different from what I'm used to. I was a master of it at home. Here, I'm merely a very skilled novice. Not to mention I know nothing of its history or how magic has actually influenced their society..."

He pauses.

"I am learning, though. And that's something. Wouldn't you agree?"

"We don't have magic at all back home, so this is so freaky right now. Like, I can't even... I can't even." She gives her head a shake and laughs. "Hard to put into words, obviously."

But she gives him a nod. "Yeah, dude. Totally. It may be different, but you'll get the hang of it. How's that for optimism?"

"Optimism? I view it more as... a reassurance that we can change the world. Shape it. We just have to try hard enough. Or persevere."

That's definitely a viewpoint. Then again, it's brought him this far, so maybe there's something to it. Who knows?

"Besides, it could be worse. You could've arrived at the bottom of a crevasse..."

"Whoa, that's pretty deep." A little too deep for her. She likes to follow the crowd, not make waves, and just get on with things. There's no drive in her to build a better world; just to survive in it.

"As is a crevasse, now you mention it. Yeah, I'd say this landing zone wasn't too bad."

"We spent a week in an ice-bound hellhole," Alacruun sighs, "It was... deeply unpleasant. And we weren't sure anyone was going to actually show up for us. Highly unfortunate."

Which is understating it, honestly, but he tends toward understatement.

"There was a rift there? Damn, that sucks. I definitely feel luckier now, knowing that." Jury's still out on whether this situation is really "lucky," but seeing how there are no zombies currently trying to eat her, she thinks this place might be better than home.

"How often do these rifts dump people here?"

"Fairly regularly. This is... the second time it's happened since my own arrival? So the third, altogether. Which has unpleasant implications if it happens as often and as regularly..."

Basically, how many people are going to get dumped here? Makes him think about the future and how they're going to be able to maintain this.

"I still don't know how it all works, though."

The same thought crosses her mind. Is this world going to become flooded with people from other worlds? What will that do to the native population? Seeing how things like viruses are fresh in Tessa's mind, she wonders what would happen if new viral strains were introduced here. Isn't that why scientists always say aliens could never conquer Earth by landing and starting a ground war? Because humans' illnesses would kill aliens that had no immunity. She doesn't want to voice any of this out loud, however. There were theories as to why Tessa was immune; one being that she was a carrier of the virus. But seeing how she's been here hours now and no one's started trying to eat anybody else, she's thinking that theory isn't true. Thank God.

"Yeah. It's just weird magic shit to me. I can't even begin to work it all out." Sighing, she sets her chin down on drawn up knees, looking out over the scene before them.

"Still alive, though. That's something."

"Living is the important part," Alacruun replies. He's not generally given to being reassuring, but it's something of his own philosophy and he always enjoys talking about that.

"Imprisonment, suffering, pain - it can all be borne and recovered from, if one lives. And eventually, one can move past all of it. Become something better than you were, with lessons learned and fresh ideas. And hopefully... not too terribly damaged."

Well, not exactly the most comforting. But still something. Right?

"You're preaching to the choir." There's the edge of a smile as she says this, because if anyone knows about overcoming terrible things and surviving, it's her.

"I don't mind being a bit damaged. It gives me character. Makes me edgy." She scrunches up her nose at the last word. Her dumb sense of humor has helped her through too, damage notwithstanding. "And hey, at least the shit I've been through has taught me some life skills that I didn't have before. So instead of being a lost little lamb once we get to Kirkwall, I'm gonna find something to do with myself."

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coiledscales - 2018-05-02 22:20 (UTC) - Expand

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