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]

"I'm not the one being made weary." She frowned, looking up to Galadriel proper. No, time focusing on the pain and the cut in her hand hadn't made her any less dazzling- but now she wasn't a mythical being that had fallen through the fade. Now? She was a foolish patient. That much made the frowning and the insistence come easier. "The rules I mentioned? Include this. If there is pain I might alleviate, if there is weariness I might uplift and it will not do me harm to do so? I am to see it done."

The spell spun out without a target when Galadriel pulled away, the glowing motes of golden light flickering out in almost a petulant manner. Adelaide was trying to keep her word. It was no fault of hers Compassion could not fulfill their desires.

"It's how Spirit Magic works. I am not using my power for this, but the Spirit's. The ice, the spear- that was me and my magic. My power. The healing? All comes from Compassion. It does not weary me to see you well, Galadriel."

[laurenande]

Adelaide was firm in her objection, insistent in a way that only healers ever truly were. Galadriel had no desire to offend her, but the skill she used was not one the elf understood, even partially, and the drain on her own power had been severe. To replenish it, to make her well, was an offer that likely exceeded what the woman could bare.

Galadriel's frown was mild as she considered her offer. She worried and, as she thought on it, there was fear in her. If she was so ineffective here, in this place, her strength would fail her quickly. Even she could not endure the use of so much power indefinitely and Nenya had only caused conflict with the mark.

And what of Compassion? What of its will? There were none who could dominate her in Middle-earth, not without the very ring to bind her, but here? If she was so ineffective, if Nenya was rendered useless--

Galadriel drew a slow breath and regarded Adelaide.

"I fear the toll this will take, if not on you than on me, for I do not understand, not truly." The admission was calm but serious. "But you have earned my trust. If you wish it, I will abide. I have not the strength to argue, nor to stand and ponder anymore."

It was true; though her disorientation had subsided, the fog in her mind was cloying and the weakness in her limbs pronounced. Her exhaustion had caught her up and she desired little more than rest to recover herself.

[fleurdesel]

"Why would there be a toll on you?" That wasn't how this worked. What was given was given freely, for that was how the spirit willed it to be so. Compassion was compassionate. They sought out aches in order to sooth them, wounds to mend them. Humans were so fragile, they whispered to Adelaide as a child, but so strong to continue despite the pain. Being able to alleviate that was their purpose and in turn had become Adelaide's as well. Explaining this would likely take more time than either of them had.

On the walk back to Skyhold? Perhaps then. But for now the ache in Galadriel seemed to increase and that twisted Compassion's considerable patience. Something in the elf called to it- something bright and clear.

Adelaide had never felt anything of it's like and whatever weariness there was to be had- she was not certain she could lift the burden entirely. But she would try, for that was their purpose. Sky torn asunder, demons roaming the land, mages and templars scrabbling for each other's throats, Orlais in the midst of a civil war- that she could not fix.

This? This she might.

"There will be no price, Galadriel. You have my word." Once again the gold and green motes swirled around Adelaide's hands, once again she extended them. Offered them palm up to Galadriel. Rejuvenation was more subjective than healing- what could be done and what needed to be done varied from person to person, from pain to pain. But Compassion poured through Adelaide's fingers none the less to stretch out and sink into Galadriel. To ease some of the burden, to take some of the weakness and supply instead warmth and a shade of mental clarity.

[laurenande]

Adelaide was very earnest and once she offered her hand, Galadriel took it. Perhaps she was overcautious, but so rarely were such things truly free, she could not envision this being otherwise. Whatever end this would meet, Adelaide had no malice in her; that could not be said by many and, if this came to ruin, it would not be intentional.

Her Spirit Magic, for that was what she called it and Galadriel knew no more, settled the disquieting sensation that needled her, though it did not banish it. She could not say what the cause of that feeling was, nor why it persisted, but it was not so imminent to merit worry.

Galadriel had drawn her power from between her very bones and her body ached from the strain. It was slow to repair what she had worn away and, while her ring had stayed some of the damage, this place had cost more raw power than she was wont to spend. She had a great well of strength to draw from but it had emptied and whatever sped its replenishing in Arda was not here; she was apart from herself, well and truly, and the only connection she had to the Fade was in her hand.

Compassion was a worthy bulwark against her weariness but its will was not as she knew them to be. It did not compete as wraiths did, nor was it as unyielding as her ring. It did not try to dominate or destroy, it was not insidious or firm. It was a curious thing, fleeting and lively, almost delicate. Adelaide had been truthful, there was no risk in this...though knowing that clarified so little.

Ferelden was a strange land.

[fleurdesel]

Delicate was the best descriptor for Compassion Adelaide could have offered, but so in tune with the Spirit had she become that putting it to words was difficult at best and impossible at worst. They simply were. Over the years they had worked with her to become precise, weaving in and out of torn flesh and wearied hearts to ease pain, to spread much like lace through a darkened heart and add the first scattering of light. To banish it entirely was not Compassion's way- that took the work of the patient and of Adelaide guiding them back to the sun. But the first few motes of relief? That was where they found their joy.

Spirit Healing was a serious, somber thing to most, done with great care and a full awareness of the risks, but the same joy at lifting pain, at renewing and refreshing a patient trickled through none the less. She took pride in her work; she was good at this and knew it well enough to make the most of every moment she held Compassion's power in her hands.

There was something to be said about a job well done.

It was not as much as she would have liked to do, but it was as much as they were able to do. With hope, Galadriel would not be quite so likely to collapse before they made camp this evening, even if the depths of her weariness were beyond Adelaide and Compassion's understanding.

The glow faded and Adelaide was simply herself again, her spirit taking a moment to rest from the work. "Did that help?"

[laurenande]

Magic, indeed.

She required rest, but she was not so weak that she would stumble. She was not so weary that she felt weak at all. It was an impressive feat, if mystifying to her, and Galadriel inclined her head. She drew a deep breath and, with it, the soft light she exuded seemed brighter, rekindled.

"I am much improved," she said and paused briefly. "Your...partner is effective in a way I had not anticipated. Thank you again."

[fleurdesel]

Oh Maker she actually glows. Adelaide had thought that a part of the haze of battle. Not- truth.

"You are welcome." There, that was the thing to say, yes? Yes. Well done her. She dropped her hands back to her staff that she'd tucked against her shoulder and looked past Galadirel to the rest of the field for a moment and-

Why was she blushing again she was a grown woman, this was ridiculous. "Explaining Spirit Healing is difficult- sometimes the simplest way to understand is to experience it."

[laurenande]

"It is unusual, I do not doubt it is very hard to explain, and I suspect I must learn much before I will understand the skills you wield," Galadriel admitted and, in the calm, Adelaide's flush was so gentle and genuine that it drew a smile across her face.

"And though I am curious, I have met few mortal men who are as unmoved by cold as the Eldar." It was a poor excuse for her blush, but not entirely without warrant.

"Even if you are unbothered by the snow, I dislike this place. You have granted me the ability to walk alone, but I would that you walk with me, if it pleases you to do so."

[fleurdesel]

Andraste's tits, she was smiling again. Adelaide was going to be crimson the whole walk back to Skyhold if she did not find some measure of calm. The fact that she had the distinct impression Compassion was somewhere in the fade laughing at her did not help.

Smile back? Smile back. It was small and slight and felt odd- she had not had much reason to smile as of late, but it was sincere despite it's brevity. "The camp should be just over the hill. I think whatever it was we intended to find, we've found- or it is beyond finding at all."

Should she offer Galadriel her arm? That was what one did, yes? No? Oh Maker why couldn't she think straight?

[laurenande]

"Then let us walk," Galadriel said and, with casual grace, took Adelaide's arm. She had not offered it, but unless she drew away Galadriel would keep her hold. She felt steady enough that she would not fall, but this magic was unknown and, however gently, being able to brace herself was a kindness that eased her mind. The elf's grip was light, her hand curled softly at the bend of the human woman's elbow, and she guided her toward the sounds of a camp.

She had not realized it in battle but, as they moved from the snow to the road that wound through the remains of Haven, Galadriel found herself without shoes. It was not a terrible thing to lack, she rarely wore them in Lórien or anywhere short of battle, but to find herself abruptly abroad and without them was...amusing.

Sadly, this epiphany did inspire another question: what had she been doing before she arrived here? Had anything been lost? She could not recall and that, above all, was troubling.

But, she had not the energy or desire to contemplate that now and so she set it aside. Adelaide was not yet accustomed to her presence, few mortals were, and while Galadriel was not as skilled at relieving discomfort, she could mitigate it, from time to time.

"If I have led us the wrong way, do be kind and correct me. If you recall: I have no idea where we are."

[fleurdesel]

No chance of drawing away, that would be impolite. Inhospitable. Some of the vestiges of her mother's training kicked in and Adele managed to sling her staff across her back and rest her hand on top of Galadriel's as one does when walking with them. A show of support and camaraderie. It was also a subtle way to make keep an eye on Galadriel's pulse and her pain- though both seemed to not be an issue at the moment. Good. Adelaide and Compassion both could use a rest.

Walking this close also offered an opportunity to adjust. Perhaps stop being quite so dazzled- she was an Enchanter, an instructor, she has seen things in the fade beyond description. One magnificent elven woman should not be enough to render her speechless. If Compassion wasn't as equally marveled, she'd feel awful. As it was she merely felt humbled by Galadriel's attention- which was a strange feeling. She thought she'd been done with that after she passed her harrowing, proved herself on her own merit.

"Ah- no we are going in the right direction. The camp is a little further ahead." She would have some time to brew tea and look over the members of the Inquisition before turning her hands and magic on the rest that may have need of healing.