faderift | Into the DANGER ZONE

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Into the DANGER ZONE

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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Bracing herself for water, the breath is knocked from her instead when she lands in the snow, her fox on top of her to further wind her. Uttering a curse, she forces herself to breathe, vision blurring as she squints and coughs; cold, cold hard ground and she's dimly aware of her hand not being quite right but there's a hideous screeching sound and she scrambles back, hand going to her hip--

Her pistols are gone.

"Lux, back!" The fox scampers just in time as she gets up, looking for the lost pistols with an awful sinking feeling. She'd fallen in surprise, leaping between mooring poles when a sudden green glow had frightened her, fox leaping her way and her pistols are likely ruined now, lost in the waterways of Castileos.

But there's little time to think, only time to rush out of the way of the onslaught of ice, her heart hammering as she frees her rapiers in time to meet green gnarled claws, the shock of impact on her crossed blades jangling all the way up her arm to her shoulder as her blood runs cold.

A moment later, a very tall horned woman appears in a blur, carried forward by waves of magic. There's no time to talk, as Korrin renews her Barrier spell, covering herself and the apparent human and her fox. At the moment, there are no time for questions, so she doesn't bother.

"Hey! Over here!" She shouts at the demon, then whirls her staff, launching a salvo of lightning blasts that home in on the creature. With any luck, that ought to distract it long enough for those rapiers to find use.

Later, when she has a chance to sit and breathe she'll ask about the things attacking her and whatever the horned woman is doing but instinct has her moving, running forward to slash along one side before she slides neatly, bringing the blade up in what would be a killing stroke to a human.

Does something like this have a heart?

Stupid thought because she has to roll out of the way, Lux racing in to grab at the ankle, tugging hard as Araceli moves to strike again. Still, she's one to remember to be grateful and she manages a nod and smile in Korrin's direction.

"Gratitude for the assistance!"

Korrin flashes a brief smile as she readjusts her stance, eyes on the nearest demons. When this is over, she'll have to ask how an Antivan found her way through a rift to the Frostbacks. Because she has to be Antivan, right?

Whirling her staff, she then unleashed a blast of lightning, shocking one target before it arcs to nearby enemies. That lightning never gets close to her new companion or the fox, though. "Watch out, they--"

And the qunari mage is interrupted by a terror demon phasing back from the Fade, knocking her flat on her back in the process. "I hate these things!"

Without thinking - a better strategy than some might think because if she was thinking she'd be panicking, probably doing a lot of yelling and absolutely not concentrating on fighting things she can't even name - one hand goes for her pistol. After all, she hasn't met anything that doesn't go flat when the shot hits but of course, it's not there at her hip, and the only thing that gets her attention is the lightning. She's not struck but she feels something, some spark in the air around her that brings her out in goosebumps. Not a storm hag, why would one be in a place full of snow like this after all? She knows the stories, how they ride along in the clouds but brew out at sea and besides, they don't have a shape.

"What are they!" 'Things' only goes so far when she doesn't even know what her rescuer happens to be after all. "How does anything--" Cutting herself off, she swears viciously and almost envies being able to disappear and spring up again because it's a neat trick. Or it would be, rather, if the one doing the trick weren't a vicious creature attacking her and the stranger.

Heart in her mouth, she grips her rapiers and runs, bracing herself for impact; slight of build, she still has the advantage of being on both feet and behind it as she brings her blades together and bears down with all her weight, grunting with the strain. It doesn't feel like flesh, not at all, somehow more and less at once and the scream is awful, worse than metal on metal or a ship right as the hull breaches and the mast goes but she twists both wrists in opposite directions, willing the damn thing to die.

That scream always makes Korrin's blood run cold, yet another reason to hate those demons with a passion. Thanks to the distraction, the mage is able to get to her feet again, barely letting a moment pass before she's whirling her staff around once more, blasting at the creature to speed its death.

"Terror demons! At least those long, spindly ones are. The others are different sorts." And there isn't really much room for elaborating further, as she's trying to keep track of the other demons' locations as well, not wanting anything else to get too close. When a hunched and hooded figure does just that, she unleashes a massive explosion underneath, sending it back as it catches fire.

Definitely named well because she can hardly hear a thing with how loud her heart is pounding, sweating despite the chill in the air and she watches the motion of the staff as she tries to catch her breath. Hopefully she's going to last long enough to ask questions but for now she quickly wipes her hands on her trousers one at a time and grips her blades again.

"And that thing?" She has to shout to make herself heard, accent thicker from fear, eyes wide as saucers because lightning is one thing, but summoning fire is something different again. "Ugh, why do they all make sounds like tha-"

A green shape, almost like the upper torso of a person flickers in her peripheral, like green smoke only it sends something at her that hurts when it hits. Staggering back a few steps, she looks for some sort of cover, ducking low as she considers her options, eyes on the hooded figure as her fox growls at the green shapes, ears flat against his head.

"Can a blade hurt that one? I can flank, get it in the back," she offers, hoping that they're not going to understand her words because she's not going to leave it all to one person and she'll be damned if she cowers like a helpless child.

At least Korrin's been around plenty of Antivans in her time, so the accent doesn't give her pause. Noting the green shape when it approaches and attacks, the qunari mage scowls and retaliates with summoning a bolt of lightning to blast the damned thing. Whatever other elements she knew, lightning is clearly her favored one.

"Do it!" She's not going to protest her new companion taking the initiative in defending herself, not at all. However, she doesn't dare glance her way, wanting to keep the demon's attention on herself.

Rags have to be easier than whatever the 'terror' was made of so with a nod at her fox to stay put, she creeps around, trying not to let the sounds coming from it upset her but she can feel her heart fluttering in her throat. She's been scared before, but this is like losing your footing suddenly and finding yourself plunged in water, every inch of you tingling and close to numb. She spins the rapiers once from her hiding spot then darts out, teeth almost chattering when she gets close.

Again, it doesn't feel close to 'right' when she pierces the still smouldering fabric, cloth giving way until she watches in horrified fascination as frost traces up her blades and to the tips of her fingers. With an alarmed cry she wrenches them free, dodges then tries again only for it to puff back as fast as a startled squid.

"And this? A c-cold d-demon?" Forgive her for the chattering teeth but she's doing remarkably well given that her home has never been as cold as this place as she glances down at her hand, glowing faintly inside the elaborate rapier hilt. "I might need more fire madam!"

"A despair demon, and I'm on it!" Korrin's not without sympathy for the woman's sudden chill, though it's the glow in her hand that snares the Vashoth's attention. A mark like the Herald's? Did they finally have someone else to close rifts again?

There isn't time to speculate, much, and she won't allow new companion to come to harm from standing idle. So she quickly sets and then triggers an explosion underneath that despair demon. The sound it makes is awful, but also satisfying. Those creatures deserve to suffer, all of them. And thanks to her rigorous training and practice, those flames ought to burn for a little longer.

"Oh yes, terror and-" she cuts off mid-sentence to dodge another glowing green thing and returns her attention to the demon she can actually damage, "despair, very fitting, wouldn't you say?" The flames merit caution if only for the novelty because while plenty of things burn and she's been involved in her share of improvised explosions, it still takes her breath away, not only from the summoning but the way it just stays put. Fire spreads, that's always the danger and she'll need to ask about that, she really will but the thing is howling so she gets back to it, swiping fast with her blades either side, dancing away.

Bless Marjani for making sure she learned to use her superior speed and agility in fights because she can move faster than something that only has the air to turn in. And it means she doesn't have to stare into that face because the glimpses have been more than enough to turn her stomach worryingly. When it goes down on the ground though she finds a tiny thing that might be an eye or might be a hole, ramming the rapier through and stopping just short of the ground. Despite the cold air she's sweating through her uniform, wiping at her face with a sleeve.

"Oh let this end, I didn't ask for any of this!" Who would is possibly a question but it's not the most pressing on her list and the shock is setting in now, tendrils of doubt and fear that have her gripping her weapons tight enough to make her hands hurt. She's done admirably, she thinks, at least making attempts to help but there isn't any of the same rush she gets in winning back home, the relief at defeating one foe not nearly enough to boost her confidence. Her hand is glowing, a glowing thing swallowed her as neatly as a whale, she's being attacked by demons and there's a statuesque horned woman hurling fire and lightning.

At least the latter is on her side, she's confident enough of that much.

Korrin proves that once again as the Barrier fades and she renews it, almost without thought. "Believe me, neither did I!" And while she's almost grateful for her sake, as visiting Haven brought forth too many memories, Korrin isn't thrilled to see others put in danger.

Seeing no more demons in the very immediate area, Korrin then pauses to catch her breath, though ready to resume her assault the moment they approach again--and they will, without a doubt. She fires from her staff at a wraith that gets too close, then speaks up again. "Are you hurt?"

Obviously it's not the time to really sit down and play the worst fights you got into on your lonesome game but there's been worse, if only because being shot is painful and it's one of the very few things that makes her wary. Given that she has absolutely no way to defend herself against the green things, she hurries back to Korrin's side, bending to let her fox yip and nuzzle into her face.

"I don't think so, Lux?" The yip is a negative and she straightens, quickly drawing a cloth to wipe at her blades, glad to see the frost hasn't done more to them. "Araceli Bonaventura, at your service," she even manages a quick bow and half a smile, flicking sweaty curls out of her face, "if I'm fighting alongside you, you should know the name of the one who owes you a debt. I don't think my blade will do anything against them, I'm sorry, but we must be almost there, no?"

"Korrin Ataash, and I'm not counting debts." She's not sure it's wise to do so anyway, even if she was so inclined. Who knows what the Inquisition will make of these newcomers, even if they don't seem to be demons? At this point, Korrin herself is doubting it, but the fact remains that this is decidedly odd and even with that mark, she's not sure what will happen next.

"More of them are down than us, at this point." Her tone isn't especially worried, at least for herself. Against a trained force that's familiar with demons, they might be more a nuisance than a true threat...but there might be civilians about, and it's not unknown for more powerful demons to find their way through. Fortunately, she's not seeing any pride demons stomping around...yet. But she'll take care of that wraith by summoning a lightning bolt to blast it.

"I meant the mark, too. That green sliver. Does it hurt? Can you use it?" The Herald could seal rifts, stun demons. Could Araceli do the same?

"Ah, it's the proper way of things go - we must cling to something when nothing else makes sense, no?" It isn't that she dislikes being in someone's debt, it's more that she likes making sure that it's acknowledged, it's the civilised thing to do and much of her life has gone that way, always able to stand on her own two feet and square everything away at the end of the day.

Nodding, she finally gets a better look around though it's not much help to orient herself. The sky isn't her sky and though she's never sailed so far as Albas, she would know if there were horned women there. "Good because I think I might need to sit down for a moment, just to," she fans at her face, hot and cold all over until the fox hops up, nuzzling in tight, "just to get my breath back. It would be too much to hope there's brandy around."

Just to calm her nerves. And to warm her. The one time she doesn't bother with the other flask she carries but who expects any of this? It can't be a dream, her dreams are never this vivid, there's more nudity and less fighting and her brain couldn't think any of this up, not even if she somehow hit her head hard during her fall and anyway, there was just water below her when she'd been jumping.

"It stings." Fighting she hadn't been aware of it, not really, she couldn't afford a distraction but now, as she switches her rapiers into one hand to flex carefully she frowns at it. "Like a sting from a jellyfish, or a cut when salt gets in. Almost like it's flaring out? Forgive me, it's a strange feeling, I don't know what it truly feels like myself." Her smile is small and embarrassed, knees pressed tight together as she finally looks, really looks at it. "I don't understand how I can use it, perhaps to read in the dark? It's bright enough but what use is that when you have fire madam?"

Korrin nods for Aracei to sit, not protesting as long as there isn't trouble in their immediate area. They can afford a moment, but she won't stand idle for long. If guarding a rift-folk counts as 'standing idle'.

"That thing you just walked out of? Is a rift, a tear in this world that leads to the Fade, where all those demons came from. A woman once emerged with a similar mark, and with it she could seal rifts, stun demons with it. If you can do that, I'd be in your debt. Though if you really insist on repayment, I know a good tavern where we're going."

But she frowns a bit at mention of it stinging. "We should get that looked at when we reach Skyhold. I'm no expert on such things -no one really is- but there are still others who know more than I."

With a small smile of gratitude mixed with relief, she sinks down, uncaring of the snow, head between her knees as she makes herself take slow, even breaths. Lux paws gently at their rescuer, tucking close to shelter from the cold even though he's a tiny furnace with all that thick fur. When Araceli can at last rise, using her rapiers to get her up before she sheathes them, she frowns, getting a good look at her hand. The inspection with her fingers is done gingerly, as if afraid of losing one should it stray too close to the green wound running through it.

"Rifts? Fade? And the damned demons!" As if it's going to help, she shoves the glowing hand into her pocket so it's at least out of sight and unlikely to embarrass her or show her up. "I don't know any of this! I didn't even walk out, I was spat out, like someone unused to the sea who leans over the railing losing their dinner!" There's a mutter of what sounds suspiciously like no me jodas as she eyes Korrin speculatively, then back at her hand. "The best I can do is try to ignore it for the moment, I don't want to get swallowed again by this 'rift' thing. Still, I'd rather leave here if the thing I fell out of is no more, I don't want a glowing green hand - you understand that it's a common joke among sailors, no matter the land."

Well it could be worse, a black spot and she would be damned to hunting and torment but a green one...well it speaks less favourably of her character and her choice of companions after all.

The fox is cute, though Korrin doesn't dare spare more than a moment to pet it briefly, too focused on making certain that nothing catches them by surprise. She nods to Araceli, not about the sailor joke but more in agreement about the rift. No one sane would voluntarily want to be near an active one.

"If it changes at all, say something. The woman I just spoke of, her mark was unstable at first. The Breach -a giant tear in the sky, the one that made all the rifts- is sealed, so it should be alright for now. But if I've learned anything, it's that the world continues to make less and less sense. At this point, there really isn't a status quo anymore."

It's good enough, given everything and Araceli's giving herself a shake, rolling her shoulders and stretching because usually she's got more warning than this. At least the unceremonious landing hasn't done much damage, perhaps the fall being more in her head given the expectation.

"Would I be able to tell? I don't know what it being stable or unstable would look like." She goes for her rapiers, frowning once again when it lights up the inside of the elegant grip, all those many whorls of metal only serving to make it seem brighter where it reflects and shines through the gaps. "And how does the sky tear? The sky isn't a sail is it? Clouds part, true, and I've seen it out at sea where the storm and calm meet but I wouldn't say that it tears - all of this? Wrong. Very wrong. So we can agree on that much at least. And hopefully we can agree on getting very far from this cold miserable place?"

Seriously, it gets cold where she's from and the shock isn't really helping that too much.

"We'll head back to Skyhold soon enough, though I can make a fire for you if we don't need to use it on any more demons. Our headquarters is still in the mountains, but much better fortified...and yes, warmer. As for your mark, just note if it flares up or starts to hurt you more. That's all I can say without having it myself."

As for the sky...well, Korrin supposes that the short version might as well be told. Araceli will find out sooner or later. "There was an explosion, at a nearby temple, where a Conclave met to attempt restoring peace between mages and Templars. It killed hundreds, including the Divine, and produced the Breach, created rifts...essentially throwing everything into chaos. The Breach may be sealed now, but the threat's not over."

“No, fire attracts attention. When it’s the only spot of light for miles around it draws everything to it, it’d be like leaving the doors and windows opening to invite in the thieves.” Actually that’s a lie, a thief is invited simply by the want or need of what another has but that’s for thieves to know. “Besides, if I stay by a fire then I might not want to move and you’re saying that we need to go to Skyhold. And, given that it has sky in the name, I’m assuming that means all the way up.” She casts a dubious glance about at the surrounding mountains, all unfriendly sights to her this close and she sighs, looking at a rather smug fox. “If you puff yourself up my good sir I will be forced to shave you and I have only my rapiers and my little knife, show some respect for those of us without fine furs attached to ourselves. But why do I have it? Is it just from the coming out of that rift? I can’t do the-- you’re more than a street conjurer though none of them wore horns without a mask.”

Of course she noticed them, and the height (her neck will hurt if she has to keep peering up and up), but it might all be connected and really, she does wish she had a good enough imagination for all of this.

Still, she does listen quietly, nodding along and trying to make sense of it all. When the explanation ends, she falls silent to compose her thoughts, hoping she’s not about to sound like a fool because the last thing she wants is to be laughed at. “First I need to know what a Templar is. I...if mage is to do with magic then that would be like you? I mean we don’t have such things, it’s just parlour or street tricks and the old wise women, not,” she mimes an explosion and the corresponding sound effects, “so if there was to be peace then they’re on opposite sides for at least one thing.” Educated guesswork but she’s been to plenty of Leandra’s councils to pick up the threads even if her head is starting to hurt far more than the damn hand. “The Divine is, was rather, a leader? Or someone to be listened to? And the breach is like a great crack in the sea but instead of being in the sea it’s in the sky and instead of venting up boiling water, steam or lava it rains demons.”

Man does she not want to see your seagulls now.

"If they haven't been drawn by my explosions and whatnot, one small fire isn't going to snare their interest. But Haven -or what's left of it- isn't really a place to linger, so I'll let it be. We did bring supplies, though, and have uncovered more. If you need something warmer -and you probably will- then let us know."

Well, when all is calm again. At being compared to a street conjurer, Korrin snorts. "I've never heard of street conjurers who could do such things. Not unless they were apostate mages, and that would get them caught by the Templars quickly, anyway." So many questions, but if it were her, Korrin would be just as needful of them. She'll try.

"Templars are warriors trained to deal with blood mages, abominations, and apostates. Among humans and city elves, magic was highly regulated and mages were kept in Circles, places were they could learn but weren't allowed to leave or even contact the outside world. The Templars were supported by the Chantry -our dominant religion- and though some of them might have been decent, all too many abused the authority given them. I've heard horror stories, but that's for another time. Anyway, all that is past tense because the Circles fell as mages sought freedom, and Templars broke away from the Chantry to fight them. And yes, the Divine is -was- the head of the Chantry. That's past tense as well, because she died in the explosion that caused the Breach.

As for why you have it...I don't know. It could be through exiting the rift, but I hate to jump to conclusions. Entering and exiting the Fade physically has only been done once -well, twice, after the Herald- so it's not exactly a known quality."

"Perhaps it's different at sea; explosions are rarely a good sign, you wait until you're sure all is calm but if you spy a light in the dark then you think to yourself 'perhaps I might return to my own ship a richer man or woman', no? Opportunity, fortune, fate or chance, all the same name for the same thing." Of course this isn't a ship or the sea but it makes her feel a little braver to remember the lessons her father and other sailors taught her over the years as she turns in a slow circle at the remains of buildings and fencing. "Not so much of a haven now I think," a soft murmur because no one likes to see anywhere looking like this do they? If I could maybe have a cloak or a cape, even a blanket if no one minded me trailing it through the snow then I'd be very happy." As happy as it's possible to be but a little warmth would go a long way.

"It's not like you. Some of them breathe fire but anyone can do that with practice or they spin and dance with it. They make a coin disappear and reappear behind your ear, I mean I can make a coin disappear and reappear in my hands but...but that's not important. Apostates? All these words, by the waves it's like being in my lessons again!" Okay that laugh is unfortunately forced but better to laugh than to weep and there's a lot of mental juggling happening already.

Said juggling only gets worse as she tries to follow along, a frown creeping across her face all too quickly because there's an element of passion that needs to be present if there's violence, living life to the fullest. Not what she's being told now as she looks up at Korrin with sad eyes, shaking her head. "I expect I'll need to be told much of this again but this is a very violent place I've found myself in, all this hunting and...and blood. Wouldn't real magic be a source of wonder? It's in all the stories - women who can whip the seas into frenzies to the heavens, where maidens can kiss a bear made of snow to find their one true love, where the trees can wake and speak to those who learn their language - they're never locked up and hunted in those tales unless they do something wicked." Well, some of them are but they're falsely accused for one reason or another, or there's a misunderstanding and invariably there's a happy ending, at least in the stories with magic that come to the ports. "And, I must ask before you think me rude or ignorant - what is an elf? Are you..."

After all, she likes to learn about other cultures and she's from a place that gets plenty of stories and there's a royal library she's free to peruse but that's a very new one. She's just trying to add two and two and not come up with twenty-two so she can at least have some sort of a victory even if it's in her own head.

"But I came from my home to here, maybe I missed a bit in the middle but I don't remember being anywhere else, just falling and then landing."

The question about being an elf makes Korrin chuckle, and she shakes her head after gesturing for an agent to come bring Araceli a cloak. "I'm no elf. See the slightly shorter people with pointed ears? Those are elves. Mine are pointed too, sure, but I'm a Vashoth. You'll hear people call me a qunari too, and I've gotten used to that, even though they're wrong. You won't see many of my kind down south, but there are a few in Skyhold."

As for magic, she shakes her head, a wry smile forming. "Some of it's a source of wonder, or at least I think so, but to people who don't have such magic it's a source of fear...and those without the gift far outnumber those with it. They also fear blood magic, which can require sacrifice and is used to control people. It's hardly fair to those of use who never used such magic and don't intend to start, but to someone paranoid enough, any mage is a potential blood mage." And a potential abomination. Korrin almost mentions that but holds back, thinking that Araceli's been scarred enough for the time being without adding that fear on top of others.

"Apostates are mages who left the Circle or were never a part of it. Technically speaking, I'm an apostate, too. Though now that the Circles have fallen, that applies to all mages. Either way, I've never heard of a Vashoth in a Circle before. I doubt that speaks well of them as much as attests to the fact that my kind aren't widely accepted in Thedas, anyway."

Given that she’s short, the cloak is too large but beggars can’t be choosers and it just gives her more fabric to wrap herself up in until only her face and folded arms are visible from the layers of fabric, hood drawn up over her had. “We have mermaids,” she’s never seen one but minor details, “so it’s a bit more obvious than peering at ears, I didn’t want to stare and look rude. Or be taken for a cretin. And you say shorter but I think if I took my boots off I might be about a height with some of them.” What must the world look like to Korrin, to be that tall without climbing up things. “So...Vashoth, not qunari. Which again, of course, I don’t really know but that seems to be the theme of today.”

But she’ll remember as much as she can even if there’s a chance it’ll all get hopelessly jumbled. Vashoth though, she definitely has to remember that, at least for Korrin.

“I can understand being afraid - I wouldn’t like to face you but anyone can carry a sword or pistol or put their mind to it and do just as much damage as you did. A couple of barrels, a little alcohol and one spark then up it all goes, no magic required for something like that. And certainly no magic to go about stabbing people either.” Fear she understands because everyone fears at least one thing but she’s always thought that letting your fear master you means living less of a life than someone who at least accepts the fear and lives with it. “Blood magic is something to be feared, sacrificing blood the way I’m imagining sounds wrong, very wrong.

“And most people are just fine with this system? For an accident of birth marking you thus? And people don’t like the Vashoth either?”

What sort of hateful mess has she landed herself in?

Into the DANGER ZONE

Araceli Bonaventura; ota/any format

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