AUGUST RIFTER ARRIVAL

[faderifting]

WHO: New rifters, rescuers, and anyone else
WHAT: New arrivals are collected and transported to Kirkwall
WHEN: Mid-August
WHERE: Southern Tevinter, then the Gallows
NOTES: This log contains prompts for the ARRIVAL and RECOVERY of new rifters, which are closed to new rifters and to the characters involved in the catacombs escape/rescue team in the Tevinter plot. It also contains a new QUARANTINE prompt that is open to everyone.

Comments

[swordproof]

It's not something Six can understand. She is no Druid, someone who knows the world and the nature of it as well as they know breathing. She does not know how to speak to plants or animals, how best to share herself with them - she knows how to fight, how to charge into battle, how to push the undead from her and protect those that need it. In this, she takes Legolas' words at face value - she has no reason to imagine he would be lying to her.

All she knows of nature is dirt under her fingertips.

"There is some suffering, hidden more than it is clear," she nods her head. "I have agreed to fight with these people because I see that their cause is just, that the evil they face is great and they have asked for our help. Not everyone is glad to have it, but those that are... They are welcome." Her dog whines at her feet and Six turns her head down, nudging him gently with her heel. "And there are friends to be made."

[tofindthesun]

He wishes he knew more of the earth, if the trees would not speak. The stones are silent, but the ground might be able to tell him all he needs to know of the world. Unfortunately that is the realm of dwarves, not elves. Not even Mirkwood's underground halls will speak to them so easily.

Legolas doesn't like this silence. But he has been through it before, for a few days, and he thinks he can deal with it for now. At least it's not pitch black. That makes it a little more bearable.

"The hidden is oft worse than what is seen. We are all the same in that sense." He tips his head, thoughtful. The dog gets a smile though, wide with cheer, that may have an effect on his words. "I have not heard much of their cause, but if there any many like myself who have chosen to help, perhaps it is one worth fighting for."

[swordproof]

There is no way for Six to understand the connection he shared with his home; hers had been with a God, not with nature itself, and while she longs to hear Sarenrae's voice again she also knows that she can wait for it. It will be a gift that she will marvel at again, something she will hear in her dreams and cherish all the more for its rarity. She cannot imagine how it might be for Legolas, away from something that must have been so deeply personal.

"It is to help people. To save people. That was cause enough." Six wants, more than anything, to protect those who are incapable of protecting themselves; she had been in that position, once, broken and shattered by the world, unable to do anything but push herself up and drag herself away. Now? Now she can take on anyone, and she will defend those who had been as she had, once - sad, lost and broken.

Leaning down, she nudges her dog before she smiles.

"His name is Two. He is friendly." Unless she commands otherwise, but perhaps it is best not to mention that part.

[tofindthesun]

He won't soon forget the sound of it, for elves have memories as long-lasting as time itself. Though it's an aspect of his life that he's known for.. all of this life, he already knows what it's like to be disconnected from it. It's bearable; made better by the hope that this is a place he can 'leave'. That he can 'return' to his woods, to Gondor, to Middle-Earth... if he really is no longer on Middle-Earth anymore.

"It is a good and noble one. Would that there were more such people, so free and giving." Legolas says it with all good meaning, and at least, not meant to be mocking in anyway. He doesn't claim to be the same, or to be the opposite. Even the Fellowship was not quite so selfless until the end of it. It was not easy to understand the weight of the world on one's shoulder until it was crushing.

And Frodo had such small shoulders. Small, but strong. One could not but help see him through his task.

"Two, is it? Your master has a peculiar naming sense." He places a hand on his chest and goes into a semi-bow, oddly formal for just greeting a dog. But given that he knows of massive eagles that speak, bears that transform, and huge dragons, a little bit of respect goes a long way. "My sire named me Greenleaf, for the green leaves of our home. I might have preferred something a little more specific. Like a flower."

He's probably not serious about the flower part. Probably.