Into the DANGER ZONE

[faderifting]

WHO: All Rifters + the 7 natives who signed up
WHAT: Searching the ruins of Haven for survivors, an Inquisition crew finds something strange. And demons. It's kind of scary that the demons aren't the strange thing.
WHEN: Third week of Harvestmere, 9:41
WHERE: Haven
NOTES: We've broken rifters and rescuers (or "rescuers") into two groups. This log has an arrival comment for each group--you can start smaller subthreads beneath those rather than try to have an eight- or nine-person log, just incorporate surrounding chaos/fighting--and a third top-level set for the whole group's journey back to Skyhold

You were asleep-- deeply or fitfully, for the last time or just resting your eyes for a moment-- and then you were not. And wherever you were was not, anymore, replaced by nothing but the sensation of falling, tumbling into endless, bottomless nothing. If this were still a dream, you would wake before you hit the ground. You can't die in a dream, they say. In some worlds.

But there's no waking here, just a flare of green-white light and a jarring impact, barely softened by snow that lies a foot deep with an icy crust that cracks beneath the force of your landing. The wind is biting cold, the sun is bright, and you are not alone. Others thud to the ground nearby, as bewildered as you, and others run up who look no less confused for having their feet beneath them.

You are also not as you were: in the palm of your left hand there glows a narrow splinter of light the same sickly green as whatever brought you here. It aches, a bone-deep pain that gnaws even through all the distractions. Like that you're being attacked by monsters, some tall, spindly stick-things with too many eyes, some hunched and hooded with no eyes at all.

Welcome to Thedas!

Comments

[fleurdesel]

"Well, when one channels healing magic more often than not the skin tends to stay soft. Working with oils and fats for poultices helps as well." She's never cut a palm for blood magic- she's never had to. She has her contract, her purpose, to strive for more than her specialty seems an inefficient use of her time- also. Possession? Not something she truly wants to experience.

The glow fades and she pulls her hands away. The mark remains, there's nothing she can do for it, but the ache should be gone. If some of the spell also happened to heal some of the cuts and burns on this hand- well. That's a known side effect of healing magic. He'll have to deal with it as she's not opening the wounds up again. At least the light of the mark doesn't seem to glow too badly through the clean bandages she wraps around his hand; it'd make any passers by unduly curious. Glowing parts on people tend to be noticed and marked out to the nearest set of templars.

"Unless there's anything else under your...armor." It is armor, isn't it? Not familiar armor but- armor. "I think that is all, yes?"

[sandsofhell]

Again he stays silent for a bit, letting her finish her work. His hand feels fine now...for the moment. It'd probably take bit of time yet to get used to having the damn, glowing thing attached to his hand. But at the very least he can more easily deal with it until they were somewhere safer. And away from the cold, or so he hopes.

As she finished up, his hands flexed, balling up into fists and uncurling. Much better. Though he still moves to pocket the dirty rags that he used to wrap himself with. A habit to not leave anything behind and attract unwanted attention to them.

"Not really, it protects me from near anything thrown at me." Almost anything, and given how beaten it looks,it could probably be said that's the truth. "Unless you really want to see what I got." A bit of joking to help take the edge off of his bothered and anxiety ridden mind. But even then he still found it near impossible to deride any joy from it.

[fleurdesel]

"Unless 'what you got' is more bruises, burns, or cuts? I think it's better to leave the mystery alive and you from being chilled." Her lips actually twist with some manner of humor. It's a rare thing these days but not entirely impossible. For now what armor he has and the cloak will have to do. The further up they head- well.

She'll manage. There are blankets she might use until they arrive at the hold.

[sandsofhell]

"Pity." He says, but at least he managed to get her to smile, that's a win right? But something els bothered him about her. "What about you, isn't this yours?

The cloak he means.

[fleurdesel]

"I didn't fall through the Fade and land in snow. I'll be fine." There are spare blankets somewhere further up the line. When she's done working she'll grab one for herself, swap with Martin when they make camp. "It'll do you more good right now than me."

[sandsofhell]

"I suppose that's true." But it still troubled anyway, he's the Captain here, he's supposed to be a leader. The idea that someone whose supposed to be an ally, or at least he's thinking that's what she's supposed to be, it's quite hard to know what's what anymore; would go through anything because of him didn't sit well with him.

'You left me to die!' The words rang through his head as a corpse flashed in his mind. Quickly he shook his head to get rid of it.

"...I'll be fine. Think you've warmed me up enough already." The cloak was slipped off of his body and he tossed it to her before moving to continue use on.

[fleurdesel]

"I- what?" Not that she minds the return but something had happened in that moment just before, something she couldn't quite place that had peaked Compassion's interest beyond the usual aches and pains, something neither of then quite knew the shape of but it'd been there and gone. At this point it's probably best not to argue and she leaves him be. There are other wounded to tend. She'll pick at that knot later.