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

AFTERMATH

[faderifting]

(This is open to all for use after the initial arrival, as they regroup and make the trek back to Skyhold.)

There aren't a lot of Inquisition agents in Haven, but there are enough to handle this: someone up the chain has ordered that all the "people" who came through the rift are to be brought back to Skyhold. The air quotes aren't subtle, and neither are the stares that follow them around Haven's barebones camp and up the road into the Frostbacks. Sure, they have marks that look like the Herald's, but who's to say they aren't just some new sort of demon, or worse? Hopefully someone in Skyhold can make sense of it, and nobody is clapping them in irons just yet, but in the meantime suspicion is unavoidable.

OTA

[cameasarat]

Peter had been seated in the snow, back against a half-burned down building and idly poking at one of the numerous bruises blossoming along his arm when the word they would be moving on came along. Back to Skyhold, taking all these...rift-people with them. While he'd helped in the fight, he wasn't entirely sure what to think of this taking in people from the Fade plan. Luckily, it wasn't his job to make big decisions. He just had to walk.

But that didn't stop him from openly staring at any new arrival he got within twenty feet of as they moved along. Where had they come from? And, more importantly, why? These questions are so pressing he, from time to time, was so focused on a rift-person walking to the side him that he accidentally walked into one in front of him.

"Sorry. I didn't- sorry."

[laurenande]

It was desperately difficult to focus, something that persisted even as she took the time to collect herself. The word that they would be taken to Skyhold, a name as new and unusual as everything in this place, was met with widespread unease but little overt objection. The travel was slow but not especially difficult, though snow was far less of a problem for her than most, and Galadriel found her eyes and attention wandering as they walked.

It was just barely evening when she turned her attention to the sky. She did not know what to expect, she hadn't assumed she would be able to find her way by starlight, but the actual sight of the scattered stars above was so jarring that she stopped to stare. She didn't recognize any of them--not one was where it should be, nor did any constellations, faint as they were in the evening light, appear in their right configurations.

She stood in stunned silence as she stared upward, lost in the sight above her.

The moment ended as abruptly as it had come; she was pushed forward as someone collided with her back. Her foot sank into the snow as she braced herself and she pushed them back as she leaned back to correct for the sudden change in depth. Their hasty apology was enough to catch her full attention and she turned to look at them. A human. His eyes darted away without seeing her.

"You need not be," Galadriel answered kindly. She was weary, as they all were, and she had lingered despite knowing people trudged onward behind her. "I stopped. The blame is also mine."

[cameasarat]

She was the tallest elf he'd ever seen. She'd been hard to miss in the battle in part because of that, and even harder since she had been walking on the snow as they made their way. Magic he hadn't heard of yet or demon thing? He didn't know. And, with her looking right at him- all tall and beautiful and elfish- he couldn't even think about that. Or how to make real words for a long moment as he stared up at her.

"I- was there something wrong? That you stopped for."

A beat, then life in the tower instincts kicked in over concerns of demonhood.

"Ma'am."

OTA

[gatheringstorm]

Well, that was...definitely a thing that happened. Korrin tries to make sense of the latest events at Haven, but of course can't. The Herald had stepped out of the Fade, sure, but it spewing out all these new people, all with that mark? It's beyond bizarre and more than a little unnerving.

The tall, horned woman observes the rift-folk closely as they make the trek back, wary but also curious. If they are demons, they certainly aren't behaving like any she's ever seen. Noting the suspicion from others, Korrin can't blame them but nor does she want an incident to break out. So, she'll just stay close to the rift-folk--yes, observing them, but also somewhat protective. Until they know more, nothing will happen to them on her watch.

[wontforgetyou]

In some ways, things were more or less exactly what Jamie'd gotten used to. Winding up in a strange place and finding himself in the middle of some sort or trouble or other wasn't anything new - although usually he didn't wind up falling out of the sky into it. The mark on his hand was new, too, and while he could handle fighting demons, he wasn't sure what that meant at all. All he could figure out was that it was there, and it ached a bit, and rubbing the palm of his hand wasn't doing much for that at all. All it seemed to be doing was getting the attention of the very very tall lassie with the horns - or maybe he was the one that was getting the attention, he wasn't sure.

All he really knew was that she was looking his way, and while she was clearly alien to him, at least she wasn't trying to kill him outright, like some of the other aliens he'd run across. His expression was a little cautious as he looked back at her, but when he spoke wasn't an unfriendly one, just uncertain. Maybe that wasn't a surprise, all things considered. He honestly didn't know.

"Er...can I help you with something?"

OTA

[fleurdesel]

Weary from the battle but- not done. Never done. Where there was war there were wounded and that is where she would go. Every one of the strange "people" that came through she'd want to check. For illness, for injury, for pain. Anything she might do to be certain they were well and not a demon. Not possessed. It'll be a long walk- better to be certain everyone was capable of making it.

Slim and certain she would approach, mug of water in one hand and a glowing cloud of...something...around the other. To check. To rejuvenate.

"Drink this, hold still." Accent thick and vaguely French to those with worlds that had a France, the cup would be offered and the hand pressed against a shoulder, a forehead, an arm. Whatever was closest and looked the least painful.

Much the same she did, too, for the remaining members of the Inquisition. Water, a little rejuvenation for the long walk ahead. She'll be spending her time leaning on her staff, infinitely weary at the tail end of the line once everyone has been seen to.

[apostasia]

No one looking at Martel would have likely assessed him as 'properly capable of making the walk'; sheer bloody-mindedness kept him on his feet, bleeding sluggishly from beneath the heavy silver medallion that hung at his chest. It wouldn't be the first time that he'd overextended himself and simply kept going until being upright was no longer an option, and it was difficult to inspire much of an opinion in himself on his current situation one way or the other. He had been given little choice in the matter, he was in little state to protest it, and frankly, he was having trouble giving a damn.

Seeking out a healer hadn't occurred to him. He still wasn't entirely convinced this wasn't hell.

Re: OTA

[lennethvalkyrie]

Elves, but they weren't in Alfheim. A woman, large, broad, horned, but not a Jotun. It was cold, yes, but it wasn't Jotunheim either. And she had been to those places. Not Midgard, not Hel, certainly not Asgard... Had that necromancer done something? He'd shown his knowledge of the ancient magics, it was certainly not out of the question.

Was everyone around her dead? Had he sent her to Nifleheim? Sealed her away from the Aesir somehow? Odin would find her--a Valkyrie missing was no small thing. And when he did...

Lenneth's fingers clenched around the mug, and her reflection in the water turned fierce for a moment. Then she realized she'd been staring at it for a long time, and the woman who'd given it to her was still waiting. She took a quick sip--then a second longer one, not realizing how parched she'd been--before handing the mug back carefully.

"My thanks. I--" she pursed her lips, eyes flickering downwards for a moment before looking back at the woman who'd aided her, embarrassed to admit her ignorance. "--I cannot tell. What world is this?"

OTA

[thedevilson]

Dante wasn't sure how he felt about this, in fact he was tempted to go his own way instead of being herded in a single direction by people he didn't know like cattle being led to slaughter. It was an apt description as far as he was concerned as he didn't know who these "people" were, he had no idea what this Skyhold was, and he had no idea what their intentions were for him. His gut instinct was to be a belligerent little fuck, throw his middle finger in the air, and just say "see ya later" but he didn't. For now.

Why?

Because from what he understood these "people" were on the opposite side of the demons he was just hacking through not moments ago so that gave them a one-up. Additionally Dante had no idea what the hell this was and someone had to have an answer somewhere and this was his only lead so far. If he had a better idea he might have followed his own nose and gone his own way instead, but for now he didn't. As long as nothing funny went down in the process he was okay with that, otherwise he kept rebellion close at his side...it was a wrench to have to carry it, but he couldn't access it's usual storage area which was in the marking on his back. For some reason it healed his wounds...but he couldn't return Rebellion from whence it came.

Oddly enough that marking had a strange resemblance to the symbols on the inquisition banners, it was very close, but maybe that was just a silly coincidence. Anyway he took note of it.

In the meantime the stares he received earned an occasional cynical little bow from Dante before he continued to push his way towards their destination. He didn't tire easily, but he could tell that there might be one or two among their number who would not be able to make this journey in a single day.

[colecomfort]

The man is sharper than most, brittle, ready to break away. Like the others who came through the Rift, he's stuck, but restlessly so, a wriggling thing held by a vice.

Cole stares anyway, because of that light in his palm. And because he still wants to help. Sometimes the sharpest ones need the softest touch.

He does glance away when he gets the bow. But it's thoughtful, not ashamed.

"Apart, almost parting. Look them in the eyes; they'll stop watching then."

A beat passes.

"We're not all scared. We only want to know what happened."

((OOC: Feel free to hit up Cole's permissions post if there's something you'd prefer he focus on or stay away from!))

[laurenande]

Unsurprisingly, Galadriel was one of the few who had truly tired as they traveled. Whether he intended to ford through the snow and darkness, or if his insistent gait would only take him farther along the path, away from those who watched them all so warily, Galadriel could not say, but she was willing to risk neither. She was rarely given to shouting and given far less to catching attention with touch, but she had few options. He had not given his name and she lacked the energy to seek it.

The company slowed and, as he made to pass her, Galadriel stopped him, her hand on his shoulder. They were of a height, it required neither of them to look up or down to regard the other, and that made her abrupt trespass far less obvious, if not more palatable.

"I owe you thanks," Galadriel said kindly and quietly. She had known others who shared his bearing; she would not block his path but she would not let him leave without a word. "Le fael. Agorel vae. Your defense was invaluable."

Ariadne | OTA

[demonicbeauty]

Nothing was right about this place. While on the surface, it looked like any other of the Red Dragon's conquests--hopeless, abandoned, burnt to a crisp--the smells were all wrong. They assaulted Ariadne's brain, foreign and suffocating. Following the battle, Airy pulled back, making herself look small and insignificant, like she'd been trained to do. She needed to scout the area, she needed to gather her bearings and figure out where Valeria was. She needed to get home.

But something funny happened.

Airy looked down at her hands. It was no unusual act. Her left hand had been throbbing since she landed. She needed to access the damage. Splinters weren't all that uncommon for someone who liked to doze in trees. But for the first time, she noticed that her skin wasn't the cool, mint green that she was used to seeing. Her hands were a sort of pleasant pink. The fleshtone that some Humans and Elves sported back home. Her gray eyes traveled up the lines of her arms, turning to either shoulder. None of it was right. Her pheromones were meant to trick other people's eyes, not her own. But as far as she could tell, she looked completely...her fingertips grazed against the tips of her ears...Human.

"How...?" The word just barely escaped. And like her nickname, it was a soft, airy sound that traveled in no particular direction.

((OOC: Small permissions meme for people to fill out, just to be on the safe side with Ariadne's assumptions.))

[gatheringstorm]

Ariadne's appearance didn't provoke any particular response from Korrin, who saw basically another human. Granted, a human who exited a rift with a splinter, but still, a human. She scans the area, but turns her gaze back in time to notice the woman feeling her ears for some reason. Potential frostbite?

"What is it? Are you getting cold?" Haven is smack in the middle of the Frostbacks, so that's not an uncommon issue. And as wary as she is of the newcomers, there's no point in having them succumb to the elements before they get to Skyhold. "If you need warmer attire, I'm sure our agents have something available."

On the road - OTA

[colecomfort]

On the journey to Haven, the degree to which Cole's presence was known had been variable. Gavin, at least, had been startled every time he'd noticed Cole, had needed reminding that they were traveling together. While the elf had always warmed to him following the initial shock, the others in the party — Cole included — had been treated a few times to stories Gavin couldn't remember telling.

On the way back, his presence is more constant. He is quiet, for the most part, but he is there, walking along with the rest of them. When they stop on the first evening, he assists in setting up, then stays somewhat apart, sitting with crossed legs on the periphery of the camp. He does not appear to have his own tent.

Anyone who passes closely enough will be able to hear him murmuring, as his finger traces patterns in the palm of his left hand:

"Shattered, scattering, falling through the Fade. Pressed, then pulled from the stream. Fish flopping on the shore, against the stones. This isn't their world."

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin's been far too busy in Haven both before the rift erupted and after to really take notice of a skinny boy in a wide-brimmed hat. When it's not about energizing debris to get at supplies or corpses, or about defending agents/strange new people from demons, it's about observing the area to make sure nothing catches them off-guard. They don't need an ambush before they get to Skyhold.

Passing by to get a better look at the way ahead, the qunari mage catches some of that murmuring. She glances over to that hand when he traces patterns in it, at first expecting to see one of those slivers but relieved when she doesn't. It's less about it being weird Fade stuff than it is about how it affected the Herald, and what it might do to these new people. Whatever they are, they shouldn't have to suffer as she did.

"...you noticed that too, huh? I miss it when this world used to make sense. Well, more sense." But it hasn't ever since the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, and she's resigning herself to the fact that it's just not going to for the time being.

[arlathvhen]

She doesn't remember seeing Cole on the way to Haven. But as they'd just suddenly gathered a lot of new people, her only thought is that he must be one of the strangers that had fallen through the Rift. Once the camp is set up, Beleth wanders past to drag some firewood over to the fire. She pauses when she hears his words, and drops the log, going over to him.

There's some rummaging around in her pockets, before a big of jerky is produced. They'd brought extra food with them, in case they found survivors--A fool's hope, of course, but it made them feel better. Just in case. Which certainly helped out with the sudden influx of people. The jerky is presented to Cole, as well as a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry. I don't think you guys are demons, okay? Don't let anyone else tell you differently." It made sense to her--A frazzled young man overhearing someone saying he's not from this world. The only other world, naturally, being the Fade. "We'll figure out where you guys are from. It'll be okay."

[slipshot]

"I haven't seen any fish," Gavin said, from somewhere off to Cole's side as he looked at the strange young man. Something about him was familiar, as if Gavin had once seen him in a dream, or something. But no - that was ridiculous. He'd never seen him in his life.

"Sorry, I thought I'd introduced myself to everyone, but I guess we haven't met. I'm Gavin. You're with the Inquisition, too?" Why else would he be here? It might have bothered him, a bit, but for some reason it just seemed natural that the human would be there, and just as natural that for whatever reason, Gavin didn't know him at all.

[wontforgetyou]

In some ways, some of this is familiar to Jamie. Not the actual area they're passing through, of course, although he knows more than enough about mountains to know when he's in the middle of them. But it's not the first time he's found himself somewhere new, surrounded by strangers and trying to figure out what's going on. Because of that, it doesn't even occur to him to question Cole's presence at the edge of camp. He might not have remembered him being tangled up in that fight earlier, but it'd been a chaotic situation, like any battle. For all he knew, Cole had been there somewhere and Jamie'd simply missed him. He didn't know anyone here. It was hard to keep track.

He doesn't miss that murmuring, however. As restlessness drives to him to the edge of camp, he hears the quiet words just off to one side, and rather than wrap his arms around himself and stare out at the snow he finds himself turning towards the young man, his head tilting slightly to one side as he listens. By the end of it, something curious has crept into his expression, and it remains there as he lifts his chin slightly, something that's part greeting and part question at the same time.

"This isn't whose world?"

[fayth]

"Did... one of the others tell you that?" Yuna had wandered close enough to Cole to have heard what he'd said, but with the few that believed their strange tale so far, she had kept a lot of information to herself. She thought perhaps it was best so as not to frighten those that thought somehow... they were some sort of demons.

Sitting down near the young man, she hugged her knees close for warmth. "It's... colder here than I'm accustomed to," she preferred being closer to the fire. Tilting her head to the side, she looked him over, "You aren't chilly?"

Open

[sandsofhell]

Walker knows he's a , though he doesn't wear any iron chains and isn't being carted around in a cell by these...people...he still knows when he's being look at as a captive. As a threat. It's fair of course, but it's still got him feeling anxious and had him make a point to stay near the back of the line, just in case he needed to get away.

But get away where?

He doesn't even know where he is, let alone where he could go. If there was anywhere to go. No, for now he would stick with this group and learn what he could. Still that didn't change the fact that he felt cold, and the loss of action made the pain in his body more acute, and his general lack of water become a more prone ant issue. Originally he had wanted to distance himself from the group and watch them for a bit. But he needs, craves it above all else, even more so than something to help keep him warm.

"Hey," his voice silently crackled from burnt, bleeding lips. "Got any water to spare? And maybe a blanket?"

[fleurdesel]

"Yes- Maker's breath has no one seen to you?" Adelaide had thought she'd seen all of these strange, rift people by now- how this one had escaped her notice she couldn't say. Compassion was shrill, beyond the need for water and warmth there he ached and the spirit ached with him. Without a second's hesitation she removed her cloak and offered it along with the water skin, eyes already beginning to glow for what likely wouldn't be her last round of refreshing and rejuvenating.

Not with the battle as it was or the injured so quiet about their pain. Idiots. There was a healer in attendance, no need for them to walk without aide. "Are you injured?"

More than the blood from the mouth and the cold that seemed to shake him.

OTA c:

[laurenande]

1 - In Haven after the battle.

Wherever Ferelden was, the lands within it were beautiful.

This place, Haven, had suffered great loss. Rubble and the aftermath of terrible rock-slides overwhelmed the landscape, half-sunken in the snow. There had been battle here quite recently, though the battlefield was not so fresh that blood remained, nor so old that the crows had found the dead in the winter cold. It was a sad sight, one Galadriel lamented even as they gathered at the camp above the road. It was little more than tents and tables, a station for a company of scouts or warriors, but it did not want for people.

The symbol on the banners was chilling, in its way, and each of the agents who wore armor were clad in its likeness. She had never seen a banner that used an eye so boldly, save one, but this was not Middle-earth. In Ferelden an eye wreathed in light did not conjure memories of ancient alliances or shadows on the east horizon. Here, the people who wandered through the wild were gladdened by the sight of that golden eye, but there was a reservation in their joy.

The cause of their dismay, however brief, she did not know. She thought to ask but it seemed unwise; none were eager to speak to any of those who had fallen from The Fade.

The agents urged them to the far side of the camp as they spoke, away from pilgrims and the harried travelers. The group was two dozen or so and not all of them strangers to this place. She moved willingly, had joined them and waited for their decision because, in truth, there was little else she could do. It was not unpleasant, the waiting; the mountains were bright and flawless with new snow. Each distant peak held her attention as she learned their shapes, and every break of dark trees and pale green caught her eye. She had not felt such deep curiosity since she had first come to Middle-earth and, grave as the situation appeared, it was not so terrible that she would refrain from indulging in the sights around her.

The land was not bountiful here, it had suffered and it bore deep scars, but it was not entirely barren. If the Inquisition turned them out, she would need to seek out her answers, but she would not be lost.

A cold wind whipped past her and stirred the gossamer fabric of her gown. Such wind rarely cut through Lothlorien; Galadriel relished the newness of it.


2 - Travelling.

Skyhold was their destination.

The name meant little, as names in mortal tongues often did. It was not an ominous title, not in her mind, but the sky was a source of comfort for the Eldar. She did not know if the people here shared in that same sense of security. Whether they did or not, it was hard to imagine they were being taken to a truly terrible a place. The mountains that housed Skyhold were unspoiled and had been for centuries; the creatures that darted through the snow were untainted and innocent, barely aware enough of travelers to scatter as the company approached.

She did not recognize them, the beasts that wandered these wilds, but she did not idle to study them. For the moment, the Inquisition was her host and the rest of her company found the trek more troublesome than she did. Curious as she was, and tempted as she had been to pause and beckon the creatures closer, she would not burden those beside her with waiting. No, she simply watched the creatures and the world about them with young eyes, younger perhaps than she should, and moved as they wished.

She remained within the bounds of their caravan, as the native agents had defined it, and matched the speed of those around her. Truly, the way the snow and terrain hindered them was a blessing, cruel as that thought may have been. Were the travel any more arduous or their speed any greater, she would have struggled to maintain pace without tiring. As it was, she merely walked alongside them, atop the pristine snow, and followed a road she did not know.

1

[gatheringstorm]

Well. That was the tallest elf Korrin had ever seen, one lacking her own height by only a few inches. Korrin managed to stop herself from stating her mind, though she couldn't help but stare for a moment. But the cold wind reminded her of the elements, and while she was adequately attired thanks to her armor, that gossamer gown couldn't possibly be enough defense.

Despite her own caution about the rift-folk, Korrin headed over after securing her staff on her back. She didn't know what to make of them, not yet, but the Inquisition wasn't in the habit of letting people freeze to death. As long as they remained non-hostile, she would as well. The Vashoth mage paused, nodding politely to the odd elven woman.

"You must be cold. If you'd like, I can find you something sturdier. They've been able to keep people my size outfitted, so I'm sure we'll have something available for you."

2

[wontforgetyou]

Skyhold wasn't a name that was familiar to Jamie either, but trekking through snow-covered mountains to get to the place didn't turn out to be much of a surprise. He'd been through that before, and once he'd found out what the trip to the fortress entailed, he'd made arrangements to get clothing that would suit the journey a bit better than what he'd arrived in, knowing full well his knees would be more than just a wee bit blue if he didn't. He still wore his kilt over the trousers he'd been provided, however. Partly it was out of practicality - wearing layers in a place this cold was a good idea - but partly it was out of sheer stubbornness. The kilt was one of the last things he had from a home that he was beginning to think he'd never see again. He wasn't about to give it up, no matter what else was going on here.

On the other hand, it did also make him rather more visible as he trudged through the snow. The mostly-red tartan was a splash of color in an otherwise white landscape, meaning when he spotted someone who seemed to be having no trouble at all with the snow and headed their way he was just as easily spotted in return. Galadriel was much taller than he was, and as he approached her, he found himself having to crane his head somewhat, something that made his brow furrow ever so slightly as he raised his voice a little bit in a bid to get her attention.

"Ah, excuse me. Are you one of the people from around here or one of the lot of us that just got here?"