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

[zombra]

"That's so weird," she says, shaking her head in disbelief. "Like some weird... lining up our cycles or something." There's a pause and she glances sidelong at him, not sure if he understands what she means or, if so, if he thinks it's gross to mention. It's the female body. It's beautiful, okay?!

"Um, anyway." Tessa shifts a little and clears her throat. "It's not a bad idea to stick together anyway. This just gives us good reason, huh?"

[mousquetaire]

He has absolutely no idea what she means. Fortunately, this is a place where he's becoming quite used to that, so it doesn't seem to disturb him beyond the initial side-eye when she says it.

"It's a good idea regardless," he says. "The Inquisition seems to know as much about what's happening here as anyone. These shards have something to do with the rifts that keep opening. If we can help the Inquisition deal with them, perhaps we'll find our way home at the same time. It's what I'm hoping for, anyway."

[zombra]

"And if we don't want to go home? What then?" It makes sense that those uprooted from good lives would want to get back to them, but her? She doesn't come from a good place.

[mousquetaire]

D'Artagnan frowns, and shakes his head. It's incomprehensible that anyone would want to stay here and abandon all that they'd known. Doesn't she have people to go back to? Responsibilities?

Maybe she doesn't.

"At the moment? We've no choice either way," he says, folding his arms. "They aren't in control of the rifts. They can't send us home, but they can't stop us going home, either. Unless we know more about them, we'll never even have the choice to make. Whether you want to stay or not."

[zombra]

"Well that blows." The words just come out without her thinking about them. Because it does blow. She'll probably ask around a bit more to see if this guy's legit or just doesn't have all the facts yet, but for now she'll let it be.

"I hear they're taking us across a sea to their base. What's it like there?"

[mousquetaire]

"Their base? Like an old fortress. They call it the Gallows."

Which isn't a pleasant name for anyone. D'Artagnan rolls his eyes to show her what he thinks of that, and then shrugs.

"But the city it's in could be worse. It's called Kirkwall, and there's quarters there if you prefer it to the Gallows. I know I do."

[zombra]

"Wow. Dark." But that's starting to become the standard in her life. "Huh, okay. I'll have to look into it. Thanks for the info, dude."