faderift | open: something grabs ahold of me tightly

open: something grabs ahold of me tightly

WHO: Inquisition Forces
WHAT: Inquisition forces cross the mountains into Orlais to deal with Emprise du Lion
WHEN: Wintermarch 25 onward
WHERE: EMPRISE DU LION
NOTES: This is a mingle-style log for the Inquisition camps, local tavern, and general/open Inquisition work, etc.

This time they hike down to the west, but the trip through the mountains is no easier. The snow is heaped up about the road where wagons have pushed it aside, stomped into slippery pack beneath the feet and hooves that have gone before. Of the main track it is ankle deep at best and in places it drifts, waist-deep on a tall man and enough to bury a dwarf who hasn't come prepared with snowshoes. Everywhere the wind howls, biting cold, and the sky hangs low, a pale flat grey that makes it difficult to judge distances. Those who know winter weather call it a snow sky, and near-daily squalls prove them right.

They set up camp in Sahrnia, across the broad expanse of frozen river that has trapped the villagers here upstream. Tents pop up in rows and in the shells of tumbled-down buildings, fires blazing and thawing the ground to mud. When the supply wagons roll in they re-open the local tavern, brightly lit with flaking paint on the walls that might once have been colorful and patterned tiles on the floor that seems to swim like an optical illusion after too many glasses of the cheap red wine that fills the cellars.

Even deadlier reds hold the hills: Red Templar sightings have been frequent and it is said they are operating in several locations in the region in significant force. Some of these men and women have become hulking, crystalline beasts. Many others are in the earlier stages of corruption: red-veined and -eyed, aggressive and superhumanly strong, but still visibly human and coherent if spoken to. Red lyrium is even easier to find, jutting out of the ground or cliffsides, filling caves-- the Tower of Bone, a fortress that has stood for centuries, now threatens to split from the inside out. The area's wildlife was none too friendly before, but now the wolves and bears have begun to be corrupted by the lyrium and many will attack on sight, without provocation. (The snofleurs that bumble harmlessly around the river seem unaffected.)

Everywhere there are ruins: broken bridges, crumbling colosseums, and the great hulking mass of Suledin's Keep tucked between the distant hills. Scouts reported that Red Templars hold it as well.

RIFTER ARRIVAL - SAHRNIA - THE HILLS - TOWER CAMP - A HANDY MAP

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To be fair, Korrin's been to the village before and the locals have become accustomed to her large self. Others of her kind will still receive looks and murmurs, as they're relatively rare in southern Thedas. Gratefully receiving a cup of mulled wine, the Vashoth woman nods gratefully to the bartender after she shows a few coins their way. Turning to the woman with the shard, Korrin looks her over, expression softening with sympathy. Her own accent is similar, a stark contrast to the Orlesian accents all around them.

"You must be. Either you're a long way from Ferelden or the Free Marchers, or an even longer distance away from wherever the rift took you." It has to be one or the other, right? Nothing else makes sense. "Does it still hurt? The mark?"

Ferelden, Free Marchers... the words buzzed by Lara's ears, meaningless, and her heart thumped. Even her usual curiosity dampened by a sudden spike of worry.

Just how deep was she in it, here?

It was so fierce there was a strange sort of relief when the woman mentioned the mark, bright if sickly green, on her palm. It was a starting point, at least. Something she could work up from.

One thing at a time.

"I'm sorry," she said with a small shake of her head, long hair swishing over her shoulders. "I don't know what those are. I don't even know what this is or where it came from." She lifted her hand. "It - it's not too bad, but please, if you can tell me anything..."

"Of course." Korrin ignores her drink other than as a hand-warmer, instead focusing on explanations. She seems familiar with this role, having guided new rifters as best she could when encountering them.

"That mark is still somethig of a mystery to us -the Inquisition- but what we do know is that every person who arrives from beyond ends up bearing one. Some natives who linger too close to a rift end up marked, as well. I know it must sting, but that goes away after a few hours. As far as we can tell, it's stable and even has a benefit. When you raise your hand to interact with a rift, you can use it to stun demons, even close the rift after you defeat them. That's a skill no one else has, and it's a badly-needed one right now. Whatever rift you emerged from is far from the only one."

It was a lot to take in, and Lara's eyes did widen slightly as Korrin went on, but she didn't interrupt, didn't deny or fight what the woman was saying. Her mind turned rapidly, wanting to reject it, but knowing all too well that impossible was a word that didn't mean as much as it used to.

How could she claim anything to be untrue, with the things she'd seen?

She had to at least consider all possibilities, even if one of them was apparently being sucked into some sort of an alternative dimension.

She took a breath.

"The rift - the green, cloud, I saw when I woke - you're saying I traveled through it. And somehow, during that process, I received this mark." They weren't really questions, just confirmations of what Korrin had said. Assuring she was following correctly.

Another breath.

"If that's true, then where I am now?"

That reaction is definitely familiar, and Korrin's aware that if their positions were reversed, it'd all sound incredible to her, too. Probably. So, she just takes it in stride, speaking calmly in response.

"You're in the continent of Thedas; more specifically, the Empire of Orlais. This region is known as Emprise du Lion and the town -what remains of it- is Sahrnia. And the rift isn't a cloud, it's a tear in the Veil; what separates the waking world from the Fade. The Fade is a land of spirits and demons, where people visit when they sleep...and where they pass through when they die. Someone caused an explosion that shredded the Veil; that rift is but one of many."

"Demons." she echoed, brow wrinkling. "Spirits. It sounds--"

Crazy.

Another Crazy Croft.

How often had that been hurled at her after Yamatai? What would those rags say, if they could see her now? ...But she hadn't been crazy then, what had happened, what she'd done and seen had been real. It had been everyone else that had been wrong....

And those things had certainly been real. They would have killed her.

She had to trust herself.

It was all she really had.

"...Okay," she finished after a long moment, accepting it as best as she could. "So I traveled through a rift, to Sahrnia, in Thedas. ...I don't expect I can just go back, can I?"

If there was one thing she could say for certain, it was never that easy.

Korrin shakes her head, expression apologetic. "Entering the rift means entering the Fade...and that's not a place you'd want to find yourself, even if you could go there. As hostile as this area is right now, the Fade would be a lot worse...especially to anyone who isn't a trained mage. And we have no idea how to return people to their specific locations or send them anywhere else. For the time being, you're stuck here with us. I wish I had better news, honestly."

Lara was silent a moment, her head ducking as her eyes closed, but after a swallow and breath, she looked back up (and up) to meet Korrin's eyes with a determined nod.

"I expected as much, really. As sad as that is." It was the story of her life anymore. "So, may I ask you who are then? You and this - Inquisition?"

Honestly, Korrin would have been astounded -and suspicious- at anyone who didn't need at least a moment to absorb all that she's just said. Thanks to previous talks with rifters, some of whom had become friends, she was beginning to see how every concept and turn of phrase is not something to be taken for granted. If even a little of this made sense, then she would be impressed.

"Oh, right. I'm Korrin Ataash, a mercenary mage for the Inquisition, and one of the members of the mage council. I'm guessing you haven't met one of my kind before, from the looks. There are a variety of names to use; you'll hear qunari, Tal-Vashoth and Vashoth. I go by the latter, but I won't take offense if it doesn't sink in right away. As for the Inquisition, it's an organization dedicated to finding the one responsible for this whole mess and restoring order. A noble goal, but also an uphill battle in these times."

"No." That earned Korrin something like a laugh - if they could die and come back as ghostly memories of themselves. "There's a story - it's similar..." She looked at Korrin for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly, then shook her head. "But no, I can't say that I have."

Still, her mind turned over it, the old Greek legend, wondering despite herself.

"I'm Lara." She paused a moment to try and sift through everything Korrin had said. "When you say 'mage'... do you mean magic?"

It was the only word she immediately recognized and so she latched onto it as a sturdy starting point. Somewhere to put her boots before she jumped into the unknown.

Korrin nods, not about to disrupt the tavern full of beleagured people by demonstrating then and there, but she'll confirm it later if need be. "Magic, yes. Mages are people who draw upon the energy of the Fade, the place where you stepped out of...and with it, we can defend ourselves, heal, and so on. It's not something anyone can learn; either you're a mage or you're not. They tend to find out around puberty, though some much earlier.

People thinking you're a demon from the Fade is a death sentence but up until recently, it wasn't much better to be revealed as a mage. People tend to fear that kind of power, and the dangers that come with it. For the longest time, most were imprisoned upon discovery, but a war broke out when mages rebelled. Now, many of those work for the Inquisition...at least in part because they don't have anywhere else to go."

She listened, trying to accept everything the woman was telling her without argument despite the little voice in the back of her mind yelling "This isn't possible!" But her brow furrowed, twitching with an incredulity she couldn't help.

She shook her head, knowing that everything she'd seen and done in the past few hours were equally impossible, but this... She shouldn't have asked. Not yet.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's just - a lot to take in."

Korrin nods sympathetically, a wry smile forming. "Oh, I know. Not from personal experience, but I've never met a freshly-arrived rifter who wasn't overwhelmed. It's a hell of a lot for anyone to deal with. You don't have to endure a long lecture about all things Thedas right now, if you're not up to it. I can show you the way to camp, however. We're just outside town, and it's an excellent spot to get supplies and rest. You won't find either in town, not in the state it is."

"Not that it isn't fascinating," Lara said, with a small shake of her head. "And later,... when I've decided whether or not I'm actually going crazy, I'll certainly be interested in learning more, but for now - yes, I think that would be a good idea."

She offered Korrin a greatful look.

"Is there anyone else I should - meet at the camp?"

Korrin had said she was a member of a council.

Downing the rest of her drink before pushing the tankard back, Korrin moves to stand. At least her clearing the way for them is no problem, as no one wants to be in a qunari's path. "Scout Harding is the first person that comes to mind. She's in charge of the scouts and knows all about the surrounding area and beyond. And she directly serves one of the higher-ups, the Inquisition's spymaster. That probably makes her sound intimidating, but Harding's one of the friendliest people I know. She'll find a place for you, no doubt."

Lara initially tried to walk next to her, but the tavern was simply too crowded (and Korrin's legs were simply so much longer) so she ducked behind her and followed behind.

"They'll just take me in?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at the back of Korrin's head. "I don't have anything..."

Once they're outside and Lara doesn't have to weave around people, Korrin automatically slows her pace to allow the human to catch up. She's used to working with and walking with smaller races by now, so it's no strain on her part.

"That's not true. You have that mark on your hand. With that on your hand, you can seal rifts. No one who doesn't have that mark can do anything about them, but you can. That makes you more important than you think, so don't think you have nothing to contribute."

Lara glanced down at her hand, finger flexing over the mark. It still tingled unpleasantly, it not painfully.

"...If this is all real... I need answers. I need to go home," she said, looking back up at Korrin. "But if I can help, I'll do what I can."

Korrin's smile is understanding if melancholy. She has no good news to give about such things. "Everyone needs to go home. I'm sorry...and thank you. That someone has their own problems and is still willing to pitch in means a lot. Maybe we can solve this mess together, rifter and native."

"Let's hope so," Lara murmured. "For all our sakes."

Especially if this was all real. It would be hard enough, without having to do it alone.

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open: something grabs ahold of me tightly

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