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

[the_cleric]

Jester leans to the side a little, to get a better look at Inessa's ears. "Aww. But they're shaped so prettily!" In case she needs actualization. But it isn't a lie: they are. "What is wrong with elves? I have met a lot of very nice elves. Well, not a lot. But I have met some. And some of them are even rich. Plus, anyone can be a servant, you know? So this is all pre-tty stupid."

One tiefling's opinion. Well--quanari's opinion, anyways. Jester crumbles off a bit more of her muffin to feed to Garahel as she sifts through all of this information. Heretical invaders gets a frown out of her.

"I'm very religious," she tells Inessa. "I am a cleric. So I probably can't be really heretical. Man, this is dumb. Oh, wait--if people are going to be scared of me, because I am so big and strong--then we can go to the fancy market together, and I can be your bodyguard."

[circleprodigy]

That gets a warm, surprised smile from Inessa before she can think to comment about anything else. Were it from a human, she might find such words condescending...but Jester isn't human, and she seems almost painfully sincere on all fronts. It's endearing, despite Inessa's own tendency to play her cards closer to her chest.

"I...thank you. Garahel is almost always at my side, and he tends to be a deterrent to some, but your company is welcome regardless." Garahel barks in agreement, wagging his tail. He likes this new person who feeds him muffins.

"Elves once had their own society, long ago. Humans invaded from the north and made them slaves. They rebelled, but long story short, never really regained equal status. Religion can be a rather touchy subject with some, especially the Dalish. They're the elves with tattoos on their faces, and worship the old elven gods, despite the Chantry trying to convert them. City elves are Andrastian, so we have no facial markings and live in city alienages rather than the forests. Those differences will be rather easy to notice, I think."

Then she raises an eyebrow, curious. "Who do you worship, exactly? What does that entail?"

[the_cleric]

"Yes, I bet he is really scary," Jester agrees, seriously--before she drops her voice into something both cutesier and goonier, as she reaches out to squeeze the sides of Garahel's face, smooshing him back and forth a little. "To people who do not see how cuuuute he is! He is such a good boy!"

It's not that she's not paying attention to the little history lesson Inessa is giving her. She is definitely, sort of, paying attention. She's just also petting Garahel.

"Are alienages the same thing as houses? Did you have a nice alienage when you were little? Mine was pretty nice. Well--it wasn't a house, exactly. But sort of. So it was sort of an alienage too I guess. Oh," wait, Inessa asked her a question about the Traveler, and Jester lets go of Garahel and scoots back, pulling the Traveler's holy symbol for her to see. The path, and the door. "I worship the Traveler. He is a really handsome god. I could show you a picture that I made of him, if you want!"

[circleprodigy]

"Of course now he's a big cuddle-bug." Inessa sighs good-naturedly as Garahel soaks up the affection like a sponge, licking Jester and being a wiggly ball of happiness. Not that she doesn't love it when people love him, but it seems dignity is totally forgotten today. Oh, well. If he's happy, it's better to keep him that way.

"The Traveler? I don't know if there's an equivalent to him here, but I would be interested in seeing your picture and you can tell me more of him."

And because it's rude not to answer questions in turn.... "An alienage is an enclosed neighborhood in a city, where city elves life. Ideally, it's where we preserve our culture, and protect one another. Sometimes it falls short of that, but we do the best we can."

[the_cleric]

"Ohhhhh," Jester says, as she opens her sketchbook again, "a neighborhood. Okay, then I didn't live in one of those exactly. I lived with my mom. But it sounds really nice!"

She flips back a few pages and turns the sketchbook around again, this time showing off a picture of-- well, it looks like a man, in a green hooded cloak. Beneath the shadow of the cloak's cowl, Jester has marked out two shining green eyes. The figure is surrounded by garlands of pretty flowers and greens, and bursts of confetti.

"This is the Traveler," Jester says, with an air of introduction, as if the Traveler is here to shake hands with Inessa. She beams at the illustration. "He is very, very handsome under his hood. I think he is, anyways. And he has taught me all sorts of good tricks and pranks and cool new things. Do you want a pamphlet? It will tell you everything you need to know."

She pulls a flattened tri-folded parchment from the back of the sketchbook and show that to Inessa next. Pretty much the same drawing of the Traveler is on the front. Some of the bursts of confetti make the abstract shape of something very much like a dick. THE TRAVELER is spelled out in a banner above the image.

[circleprodigy]

There's an awkward pause as Inessa tries to decide how much she should clarify about alienages. On one hand, she doesn't want pity. On the other, if it ought to be explained, it should be done by an actual city elf. She doesn't cherish the thought of what a Chantry sister or mother might say if questioned instead.

But Jester continues before she can truly decide, and Inessa allows herself to be distracted. She leans in to have a look at that picture, of the man in the green hooded cloak. "Well, he definitely has a mysterious and dashing air about him. Those eyes....and yes, please."

As Garahel sniffs at the pamphlet, she smirks briefly at the general shape the confetti takes. "This is certainly very different from the Chantry's approach, that's for certain. They preach about sin and Andraste's sacrifice, and spreading the Chant of Light to all corners of Thedas--no matter the cost. It's followers are many things, good and bad, but tricks and pranks are not a part of their scripture."

[the_cleric]

"You can keep it," Jester says--as much to Inessa as to Garahel. "It probably smells a little bit like doughnuts, but it is not actually a doughnut. So don't lick it too much, okay, Garahel?"

And to distract him, Jester pinches off another crumble of muffin and holds it out to Garahel, so he can eat out of her hand.

"There are lots of gods like the one you are talking about. Andraste. I think they are very nice, probably, but also, a little boring. The Traveler is a really fun guy and he has helped me out a lot. Like, a lot a lot. So it is the least I can do to tell other people about him, right?"

And also, play some pranks. Naturally.

[circleprodigy]

Garahel responds with an affirmative huff. He'll be good, and a crumble of muffin definitely helps. Hope you like your hand licked by a doggy, Jester. Inessa tucks it away in her satchel, for a more thorough viewing later on. She's not about to ignore Jester while she's here, after all.

"That makes sense, but I would still advise some caution. The Chantry may be leaderless at the moment, but many who are in positions of power are among the faithful. They don't care for mention of other gods, let alone active recruiting. At least one Exalted March -a holy war- was declared in part because the elves were not believers in the Makers and had their own gods. The Dales were overcome, and now there is no nation in Thedas that is at least not technically Andrastian, Rivain probably the least so.

This isn't to say there aren't some who won't listen, especially those already marginalized. Just...be careful."

[the_cleric]

"Eeeeew," Jester squeals with delighted disgust, as Garahel licks her hand. She is so not protesting. Dogs are so great.

The rest of what Inessa says gets about seventy-five percent of her attention, as she wipes her dog slobber hand on a napkin, careful to twist away from Garahel's sight so he doesn't get offended by her. It's gross, but okay, but also, really sticky. She needs that hand.

"Oh, yeah," she says. Be careful. "Some of the places where I was, before I fell through that stinky rift, were like that too. People kept saying to me, Jester, they will be so mad if they hear you talking about the Traveler! But guess what? I talked all about the Traveler and nothing ever happened to me. And he appeared to me at the Pillow Trove even, and I got to talk to him for a little bit. So, I haven't seen him here," but she waves a hand, dismissively. "It is okay, though. And don't worry. I am super sneaky, if I want to be. But it is very nice of you to tell me all of that! You are a good friend."

[circleprodigy]

Garahel doesn't seem to mind Jester's actions; she's paying attention to him and not shooing him away, so he'll take it. Inessa reaches over to hand another napkin if it's needed, and smiles. What a kind, polite person and so well-adjusted for being so new. Some of it could be shock, but she suspects this 'qunari' to be resilient regardless; a good trait, all things considered.

"That's kind of you to say, Jester. If you need us in general, Garahel and I will attempt to assist. 'Sneakiness' isn't my forte, but I'm certain you'll find many who do have that in common, especially in the Scouting division."

[the_cleric]

"Ooo-oooh!" Jester's enchanted glissando carries that exclamation up into an excited pitch. She takes the napkin from Inessa and wipes her hand on it, without breaking eye contact. "What is the scouting division? Is that your job? You scout for things? What do you scout for? Ahhh, no wonder you have a dog. He is very useful for scouting, I bet!"

[circleprodigy]

Inessa chuckles as Garahel barks in agreement, though she shakes her head. "No, I'm a part of the Research division; namely, laboratory work and long hours at the library. There are four divisions in the Inquisition; Research, Scouting, Diplomacy, and Forces. Forces is basically for those who assist on the field of battle, while Diplomacy involves visits to our countries or entertaining dignitaries here, and Scouting involves reconnaissance, surveillance, cryptography and the like. Most people belong to a division, but it's not required."