Open: Waking Nightmares in Skyhold (reaction log)

[faderifting]

WHO: Characters in Skyhold
WHAT: Before, during, and after the eruption and attack of an Abomination in Skyhold.
WHEN: Haring 11
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Please note that the actual subduing of the Abomination is being completed by mission volunteers. Use this log as a means to react to this event otherwise. You are welcome to be attacked by or attempt to attack the monster yourself, but please refrain from doing anything that would permanently affect it or interfere with the volunteers' plans.

It's so late that it's early when the Abomination begins its path of terror between the gardens and the main hall. It seems intent on heading for Skyhold's heart itself, a continual slow drag weighted down by the way it, for whatever reason, drags the body of a young made woman behind it, by the ankle. Seven foot tall, a twisted monstrousity of human and monster, made of tattered mage robes, bony protrusions, claws, and teeth. Behind it, it leaves a trail of smearing blood and gore over dirt, grass, rock, as well as blackened scorch marks.

It can be distracted, diverted, whether by mere movement or direct attack. It wields magical fire in inelegant gusts of flame, but is just as likely to lash out physically, impossibly strong, fingers twisted into giant claws, or make grabs and attempt to sink fangs into flesh. Always, it will return to where it last dropped the corpse, and make for the main hall.

Eventually, an explosion of flame and broken stone will destroy the connecting entryway between the gardens and the hall, under the onslaught of the Abomination's magic. A deep roar reverberates through the bones of the castle, inviting one and all to join in.

Comments

(Gathering non-fighters to safety)

[ashesandboneyards]

Two decades.

Two decades later, she would still know the smell anywhere. That's what strikes first, what wakes her before the noise, what chills her blood before before the sight of the moonlight reflecting off wet bone, before the taste of smoke on the air. The foetid contents of torn intestines, the sharp and metallic smell of fresh blood, the unmistakable reek of burning flesh-

-She's a girl again, staring down her fallen keeper, as if no time has passed at all.

"With me!" She shouts, loud as she dares. The abomination pays her no heed, focussed upon its slow, deliberate journey toward Skyhold's heart, and this gives her the courage to shout louder, hoping to attract the attention of anyone who, like her, isn't keen to fight the thing. "With me! To the stables! Bring the injured!"

CLOSED.

[amygdalae]

[Once could call it luck, or perhaps one could say it was fate instead. But whatever it was, Bruce just so happened to be in the right place and at the right time - or the wrong place at the wrong time.

It happens without warning; one moment Bruce had been passing by the garden towards the stairs that led up to the battlements, and in the next chaos broke loose. The abomination begins its task of wrecking everything apart and causing havoc. The screams and shout erupt almost instantly and Bruce is only frozen in place as he watches the abomination lumber clumsily down its path, the broken body of a woman dragged behind it like a doll.

In that instant he doesn't see the abomination that everyone is currently running from, doesn't see the poor soul that had been lose. All he sees is himself, right there, right at the spot where the abomination is now.

He moves without thinking, going against the crowd, running towards the abomination rather than away from it. He can feel the magic aching to crackle at his fingertips, the need to do something, anything--

From the corner of his vision he sees some of the younger mages attempting to try and pull the woman's body out from the abomination's grip. Their attempts are enough to get its attention, and Bruce sees it starting to use its other hand to strike them down.

He pushes himself to dash the last few meters and lunges forward, shoving the mages out of the way. He feels them falling down right before a crushing force hits him at his side, and then Bruce is flying across the courtyard and landing in a painful tumble across the ground, face first. He doesn't lose consciousness, but its a close thing, and Bruce struggles to try and move even with the pain as he hears it seemingly lumbering away.

No. No, he couldn't stop here, he needed to--he had to--

Maker, everything hurt.]

[eolasemah]

It had been another night of limited sleep for Sina, and she was in her usual haunt, sitting in the gazebo with a blanket around her shoulders and a cup of tea between her thin hands as she meditated and waited for the sun to rise. She had done this many times now, and probably would many more, but she was jolted out of her reverie by a sound unlike any she'd ever heard.

Staring in mute horror, she watched the thing form, out of-- who was that, did she know them?. Her steaming mug crashed to the stone ground as the creature twist and writhe and glow from its host, the shard in her chest seeming to pull uncomfortably in the abomination's direction. She struggled to pull breath into her lungs, one hand clutched to herself in abject panic. Then it looked at her.

She shrieked.

[It would presumably not be too long after that the volunteers arrive and do their thing. Sina remains in the gardens throughout, though she hides behind one of the gazebo pillars and casts a barrier around herself so she won't get hit with their business.

She is still there long after it's over, curled up and petrified.]

ota.

[lacere]

Harding is not on duty.

She wakes to the sound of screaming, and shouting, and the distant but close smell of smoke. She has no idea what's happening, and that's cumbersome, even as she pulls on her boots and moves, making plans to move to the barracks or the armoury or to find Cassandra and Cullen, but it doesn't take her long to pinpoint what's in the air.

Fear.

It's Haven all over again, struck by Corypheus in what should have been a celebration. Only this time was no celebration, and there was no Corypheus in sight. No, as she made from her bedroll and into the courtyard everything is louder and hectic and out of control, there are scouts asking her what to do, what they should do, what's happening and the screams - those screams are inhuman, those screams are-

Whatever that thing is in the gardens, it came from them. That made it an abomination.

Her heart sinks.

"What do we do, Lead Scout?" one of the group asks, clutching her knife in her hands close to her chest to hide the tremors.

Harding snaps out of it, no delay. "Find the advisers!" she barks to the nearest scout that had followed after, or gathered. "Get them out of here! Be prepared to fortify wherever you choose. Be prepared for the worst."

OTA

[wickedchase]

There haven't been too many times he's run into an Abomination during his life. They have been rare and few indeed, and the one time he'd had with his partner, he'd looked on grimly and knew the possibilities down his life but never considered himself weak. It was good fortunate then that his partner said he didn't think so either.

You're not weak, just a pain in my ass, Graves had said, mostly jovially, and at the time the elf had smiled.

Today, right now, in the night, he watches the Abomination from a distance, feeling hollow and uncertain.

When matters didn't involve him personally, running from a fight was always an option. Turning his back on something that he couldn't make a gain from just made sense, and he has no partner now to fear for. That ended what feels like a lifetime ago. Instead, Twisted Fate can see the Abomination go, leaving behind the stink of copper and terror.

For a brief moment, he seriously considers walking away. He knows what he's in the Inquisition for, and it isn't this.

Instead, Fate sighs to himself and goes to follow the trail warily. He isn't going to take on the damned thing himself, but he knows he should try to get people out if they're in danger.

for those stuck in the undercroft.

[samahl]

Cyril had meant for this just to be a quick trip to drop off supplies needed when the attack had started. Then his desire had been to rush by upstairs and do what he could to help, but that had been foolish. He wouldn't be of use to any one if he was dead.

He wanted updates, to know what was happening, but instead he was stuck down here as the thing crashed around and seemed to shake the entire undercroft.

"I'm all for re-decorating, but not when it's on top of my head." He said, to no one in particular. His coping mechanism probably wasn't the best.

ota

[fayth]

          DURING.
Yuna had been out of bed with a start around the first few screams. She was used to this sort of thing, actually. Tumbling out of bed, she grabbed for her cloak and burst out into the open sky from her lodgings, searching for the source of the panic. She had to remind herself that it wasn't Sin attacking in the middle of the night, not in this world -- but maybe even something worse.

She hurried towards the nearest person, searching the area as she approached. "Wh... what's going on? Did something happen?"

          AFTERMATH.
What had they called it? An Abomination... and yet that brought up more questions than answers, anyway. Huddled close to a fire somewhere on the grounds, she watched the flames absently, her thoughts a million miles away.

Yuna had seen some of the grisly details for herself, the trail of blood left behind, the smell of it, burnt and sour in her nostrils. It had been dragging a young woman behind it... what a frightening thing. Is that truly what mages could become?

Pulling a blanket tighter around her shoulders, she thought to herself how it was particularly hard to get warm today.

OTA / cw: gore (remembered, not current)

[quietblade]

Taas didn't hear the screams or the roars, so it takes him a moment to even react at all.

...but then there's the explosion vibrating under his feet, the sound loud enough to whisper in his less stone-deaf ear. He freezes in his steps, heart hammering hard against his chest, memories from the explosion in Seheron rushing through his body in a bout of hooror that he didn't even think he was able to feel.

He always fought without fear. Anything from men to monsters. He was a berserker, he didn't know terror like this.

Yet he's still frozen in place, face paling and eyes slightly clouded. He could see it all again. His karataam, nothing but flesh and limbs. The silence even though their Ashaad was howling in agony, blood flowing from his torn body and onto Taas' face.

Congratulations, that was pretty much the only thing that would fuck up the fearless warrior. Wake up from the PTSD nightmare at your own risk.

OTA

[girlinthebox]

She woke, screaming.

Gulps of air, then more terrified cries as she shrank back onto her cot in the healer's tents, everything in her body screaming wrong, wrong, wrong!

The terror of this thing reaching through kept her from moving, at first, before she could rouse her brother with her cries and be lead away, possibly somewhere safe. But it wouldn't be far enough not to feel it, like a wave of dread pulsing outward again and again. This is what it means to lose yourself, to slip even just once in dreaming.

This is what it means to fall.