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

[sorcerised]

"Pulls of gravity?" Aro says, with the curiosity of someone who's never even heard that term before. The question of what kind of stores are in Kirkwall is equally difficult for him, given that it has the normal kind, as far as he's concerned. He's aware that not everyone is coming here with the same experiences, though. He tries to work out an answer that might actually be helpful, and not assume the level of knowledge that someone might have were they from Faerun.

Smiling, he holds out his hand to let Poe see the shard in it.

"It's easier now because we're here. Being around other rifters seems to help, and most of them are in Kirkwall. That said, I don't why that makes a difference. I just know that it seems to. It's a fairly ordinary town, too. There'll be bars, tradesmen, blacksmiths. People selling clothes and food. It's not too dissimilar from this place. Can I ask what kind of towns you're used to?"

[gotyourselfapilot]

Poe takes his time to piece his thoughts and words together with what he's going to say next. He's not sure if Aro encountered anyone else from the home he's used to. "G-Forces. Going really really fast through the stars." He gives a quick point upwards. "The ships I'm used to fly everything, through the air on a planet such as this one or up in space, with the stars."

There's a moment that he could sound crazy as heck, but falling from a rift is just as crazier to anyone. He looks at the shard that Aro shows him. All rifters have the same shards. That part was consistent. Poe would get used to these kinds of things.

"Does it matter how many rifters are around for the pain to stop? And can any rifter go out of Kirkwall to help in this matter? Ordinary isn't a bad thing as long as there's good people within the town. Well, that's a bit tricky to say, each planet has their own culture way of living. Their towns may not be as friendly to people they don't want in them. Some are busy, some are scarce. There's cities that have many tall buildings and a different way of living. I grew up on a farm. Lately I haven't been able to get out to explore." He knows here would be different. He didn't seem to have to be constantly moving to the next mission. The movement suddenly stopped and all he wanted to do was move. It's all he knew with a constant threat always there. A threat that could take them all out if they weren't careful themselves.