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

[thedevilson]

If it was a weapon she required, it was a weapon she soon got, if not entirely in the way one might expect. Rebellion might not be a spear, but it's certainly more than half Dante's size, guaranteeing that it was big enough to do its job--that job specifically being to kill demons. Perhaps not the demons he was used to, but one demon couldn't be all that different from another, at least not to him...they were still ugly, irritating fuckers.

So it was with extreme prejudice that Dante lobbed his sword through the air at closest advancing demon to Galadriel, spearing it right through the head...or what qualified as a head anyway. Technically swords aren't designed to work that way, but who cared about the details as long as he got the job done. Afterward he approached this unsteady angel in white, and wrapped a steadying arm around her stunned shoulders.

"You run, I'll cover you," after making sure that Galadriel was stable enough on her feet he released her, extending his hand out to grab the hilt of his sword before the demon collapsed at their feet. Ripping Rebellion right out of it's present casing, which of course caused some debris to fly as the demon finally hit the ground, Dante side-eyed Galadriel once before pressing forward. It wasn't that he didn't think she could be useful, hell he saw what she could do...but that wasn't enough.

He'd rather she retreat to safety.

[laurenande]

Violence was far less jarring to Galadriel than it should have been. The great-sword that struck the shade before her did so with speed and power, it folded bone and rent what little flesh these creatures had. The shade collapsed on the snow, bent under the weight of the sword. She turned her gaze down at it and it upset all of her senses.

She closed her eyes and drew a slow breath, when she opened them it was to find an arm braced about her shoulders and an instruction to flee. She was uncertain what manner of person had slain that shade, and he was gone with enough speed that the question remained.

At the moment, unfortunately, she did not have the luxury of indulging curiosity. She was injured, though she knew not how, and a strong sword arm would be of far more use and far less danger than she. She steeled herself as she looked for a reasonable place to retreat, but her searching did little good. There were few options and each was blocked by spirits.

Thankfully, she had been granted a moment of pause and, while she was weak already, she was not so weak that she would be stayed by something as fleeting as these spirits. She waved at the creature in her path and it burst apart in silver light; the mark in her hand seared and the force of her will wavered as it died. Destroying one took far more effort than she'd have liked, it nearly took her feet out from under her, but now a way was clear.

[thedevilson]

Dante kept one eye on his task, which was to eliminate as many of these little bastards as he could as quickly as he could, the other he kept on Galadriel. While demon killing might have been his most pressing concern at the moment, he wasn't about to abandon her, that just wasn't his way in spite of his usual attitude problem. While he was fairly certain she could handle any demon that found it's way in her path, there were others approaching from behind and in other directions. Dante wasn't very good at playing the guard dog in the battle field, that's why he always opted to fight alone, he was good when it came to risking his own life...when there were other lives...it was harder.

Shifting the sword's shape from that of it's natural form into a pair of large, three edged, shuriken like weapons he propelled one in the direction of the demons approaching Galadriel from the back while tossing the other at the demons that were trying to approach him. The best thing about this form of Rebellion was that it was fast, it increased his range exponentially, and it was just as deadly giving off waves of energy while it attacked. Additionally it enabled Dante to kill two birds with one stone, as the saying went, before retreating to follow the peculiar, ethereal woman, compelled to make sure that she was okay.

"You holding up...because...uh...now's not a good time to pass out," and he could see that she was putting a great deal of effort into staying on her feet, but at least she had cleared a path for herself and Dante could guard the rear until she was completely out of danger.

[laurenande]

"I shall not fall," Galadriel answered him, though any tone she'd intended to inject into her words was lost to her exhaustion. Whatever this place was, however she had come to be here, she was incapable of truly defending herself without assistance.

"Do not be distracted," she added and, had she a bow, would have gladly fired a volley into the creatures that approached at his back. And it was, most certainly, him that was their target.

Despite her weariness, these things had no interest in her. They were not clever opponents, nor organized, if their tactics were so strange. It was fortunate, perhaps, that they sought out the more threatening opponent; if she were to escape, she would not be able to do it quickly.