player plot: catharsis makes me free

[aberratic]

WHO: Everyone
WHAT: Making Heroes of the Veilguard Riftwatch
WHEN: Mid-Cloudreach (April)
WHERE: Riftwatch's dwarven outpost beneath the southeastern reaches of Ferelden
NOTES: OOC post here. TW for spiders and various forms of backstory drama, I'll add anything warned for in top levels!

catharsis makes me free, for i do not prefer to be a prisoner.

For the past few weeks, Riftwatch's dwarven outpost on the outskirts of Fereldan has been experiencing an influx of creepy-crawlies. It started in Guardian with a higher-than-usual number of spiders scuttling about—not entirely unexpected in an underground living area, but notable for sheer volume. Then, in Wintermarch, a deepstalker was caught trying to make off with a nug, and it was only after it was dealt with that anyone noticed—there used to be more nugs down here, didn't there? Investigating some of the unused homes revealed holes dug up from the floors, the presumptive source of the intruder... and perhaps others. Deepstalkers are pack animals, after all.

To deal with these infestations, a greater number of Riftwatch agents than usual have been assigned to man the outpost. For the past few days, members of Riftwatch have been filling in holes in the floor, killing spiders (those are too big to be normal spiders, aren't they? Have they always been that big??), and searching for any other cracks in the walls a deepstalker might wiggle its way through. It's tedious, somewhat heebie-jeebie-fying work, and everyone will need a long bath after to make sure there are no spiders on them, no really, I swear I felt something crawling on my neck—but it's been more or less uneventful.

Which makes it a surprise when, the morning of their last day in the outpost, a number of agents can't be roused from sleep.

I. WAKING UP IN THE MORNING

For the agents who do wake up, they'd be forgiven for being a bit freaked out. Any reaction is understandable when your friends and coworkers can't be roused from sleep by any means you can conjure—not touch, not loud noises, not magic, not pain—and figuring out what to do about it may not come quickly. Someone's gotta tell the Division Heads, probably—hope none of them have fallen asleep too—and maybe somebody should stand watch over the sleeping agents... But no one in Riftwatch would steal from their unconscious coworkers, right?

II. DREAM A LITTLE DREAM

For those asleep, this might be a good chance to describe the memory they're facing without any observers or outside interference to alter it in any way—or you could start it in media res, I'm not your boss.


III. SPIDERS AND DEEPSTALKERS OH MY

The spiders and deepstalkers show up at the same time, and immediately start trying to stake their claims to the outpost. On the spider side, they range in size from a large cat to a particularly well-fed druffalo, with mom being biggest—she's young, and on the smaller side for a breeding female of her species, but she's got a lot of ambition. Ways to deal with the spiders aside from actively fighting them include burning and tearing down webs and destroying egg sacs—though doing either may turn into a fight if the agents doing so are caught. The deepstalkers are the size they should be, but there are approximately a million of them, and the matriarch is crafty: she rarely shows herself and seems almost to have a grasp of strategy in this war. Non-violent ways to deal with the deepstalkers include filling in holes and destroying egg nests, though the matriarch dislikes that as much as the spiders do. The two groups do not get along and will fight each other as eagerly as they'll fight Riftwatch—maybe that could be turned to the organization's advantage?

IV. CONFRONTING CATHARSIS

When the "delegation" to confront the spirit keeping the agents asleep find it, they will find that it...isn't a very scary spirit at all. Catharsis looks and sounds for all the world like a friendly old man, and it's as stubborn as one to boot. It has places to be, you know! There's not very many spirits of Catharsis around, and it's one of the oldest—it's needed in so many places, but it decided to help here because boy, do you all need it. It's happy to let the sleeping agents wake up... once they've untangled the knot it's helping them work on, and not a moment before! That would mean it hadn't helped, and it's here to help! What do you mean this isn't helping, of course it is.

© tessisamess

Comments

[anthracite]

"There’s magic on," She's quick — even dazed, even fumbling — "Only took some of us."

He's quicker. Before blade clears sheath, Strand's put himself out of lunging range. When he resettles at her side, the step doesn't quite track. A stutter in the frame. Black gunk crusts about his eyes and cheeks, stains a bandaged arm.

"You've been asleep two days."

Nearabouts. Too busy to stick a head up for the sun and check. He's slower when he reaches for his flask, the motion steady and human.

(He keeps her knife in view.)

[doneisdone]

Teren huffs an angry sound, like a bark almost-- when isn't there fucking magic about, when isn't it fucking everything up-- and rolls onto her side, squeezing her eyes closed at the stiffness of her limbs. They're on stone, she's got no padding, it's been two days, this is going to smart for a while.

"Kill anything?" she asks, conversational. Might as well get to work, and ignore what was happening before this moment.

[anthracite]

"Hope you like fried spider."

They've butchered enough to feed an army. She isn't cutting, which means they must be friends — so after he pulls his own mouthful, he wipes the rim and hands it over. The whiskey's strong, and smoother than a Warden's stipend affords. Good odds he didn't buy it.

"Watcher went after the spell," He thinks. Been a while since Strand's last seen the man. "Might be something left to chase."

If she's still in the mood for killing.

[doneisdone]

She takes the bottle and drinks deeply, paying little mind to the quality or taste: it's liquor, it's hard, and it's taking the edge off.

"By himself?" she asks when she finally comes back for air, quirking an eyebrow at Strand.