faderift | closed.

WHO: Ellis, Lukas, Mhavos Dalat, Tony ~~Stark~~ Rhodes-Potts
WHAT: Do you remember finding those obscure drawn maps in Dragon Age: Inquisition of waterfalls and shit and getting very angry attempting to decipher them? Yeah.
WHEN: Harvestmere.
WHERE: On the way to and within the Planasene Forest.
NOTES: They anticipate at most three nights of camping, with some supplies to stretch that if somehow necessary, but likely no one wants to waste more time than that on this. Warnings TBA but probably not.

It's the bottom of the barrel as far as Riftwatch priorities are concerned, but eventually, someone has to check it off the list. It is a map and a report on its circumstances, found and compiled who knows how long ago, and by map and report-- the childish drawing of a mountainous range with arrows and circles and an X marking the spot, along with the barely legible half-assed note along with it, only barely count as either thing.

But here they are.

The map is not a bird's eye view depiction of rivers and roads and territories as expected of maps, but drawn from a ground-level perspective, presumably, and will likely only make any sense once they get there.

The report describes something about a researcher, Bernardo Kesoro, having taken a hermitage in the foothills of the Planasene Forest, and the map that was found on his unfortunate rotting corpse. It speculates as to the likelihood of valuables to be found at this location, and the frustration they personally had in attempting to decipher the map themselves before giving up. They suppose: rare texts, alchemy supplies, a cache of gold, or perhaps nothing at all.

Maybe someone will have better luck than they.

Maybe these are those someones.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Aliens is slotted in beside heffalumps and woozles on the list of things Ellis doesn't fully understand but suspects are actually dangerous.

"I've heard that said before."

Ellis rolls the hilt of his mace between his palms. This not the moment to delve into Warden philosophies, nor the arguments Ellis has been privy too. But that sentiment, and the way Tony's voice dips as he speaks of it, that's familiar territory. Interesting, the things that remain unchanged even beyond the rifts.

"You could say the rifts are creating a trouble like that. Not everything that comes dropping out of them are as amiable as you."

This description of Tony's demeanor is delivered with the utmost sincerity.

"Maybe our next outing will be to try and close on. We can see if your aliens look anything like what we call demons."

The callback is appreciated, judging by the quick grin that brings about, laugh lines that seem to come easy. Utmost sincerity or nothin'.

"Yeah the whole rift situation, not unfamiliar," he agrees. "Here it's more like a random occurrence than deliberate incursion, though. I caught a peek on my way out of mine. Terror guys. There's overlap, but. The demons seemed kind of-- wild, I guess. I don't know what they want. The aliens-- uh, Chitauri-- came weaponised and meaning business."

He gestures, splaying a hand. "But I wanna get a closer look sometime. The first round was a panic-blur."

Heffalumps, woozles, chitauri. Names for monsters he'll likely never have to fight, unless a rift drops one directly onto them, but Ellis commits the names to memory anyway.

"Aye, the first time through an experience like that is always impossible to remember. The details all run together while you try to figure out how to survive it."

Fighting darkspawn, being vomited out of a rift. They both likely inspired the same desperate surge of adrenaline

"We're lucky the demons on the other side of those rifts haven't been so organized," he says after a moment. "Messere Dalat may be able to theorize about what they want. He's read more than I have, and my specialty is elsewhere."

"Right? What a nerd," Tony says. In the dim hopes that Mhavos is listening.

There are some lurking deep dives here. Tony can sEE THEm, the innate relatabilities around being some guy only half in his depth, maybe just in Riftwatch, maybe existentially, but the idea of pursuing those threads is giving him a psychic allergic reaction so maybe later.

Maybe never. He offers back the bowl of. Stew, question mark? "Here," he says, without follow up instruction. And stands up.

Ellis accepts the bowl. He'd more or less assumed he'd be the one cleaning dishes at some point this evening or in the early morning.

"Leaving?" Ellis questions. More likely: Tony's going to pass out on his bedroll, but better to check. They've been traveling long enough for Ellis to get the sense that he needs to keep one eye on Tony, just in case.

"Yes," Tony says, comically direct, eye contact and everything, before he pivots to go step away from the campfire. "To pee in the woods, and then go to sleep. If something gets me, I'll signal for help."

He tosses over his shoulder, to clarify; "Signal is me screaming!"

closed.

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flubbing the stew description is going to haunt me for the rest of my days

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