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

Water, he took the skin gratefully first before swiftly starting to gulp down large quantities from it, like a man who hadn't had a single sip in years. It felt like that. But he eventually slowed down, reminding himself to drink slowly lest he vomit from his empty stomach. It was when his lips finally let go of the spout with a gasp that he accepted the cloak around his body, as well as notice the glowing of her eyes. Slowly he withdrew a bit further from her; wary from what could come.

Everything was new to him, and he had just finished one battle, only to be dumped into yet another. Walker is still on edge, no matter how kindly a person from this group may treat him, he will still hold that bit of paranoia with him.

Stranger danger and all that. "Depends on what's going on with your eyes."

"What? Oh. Magic." She waved a hand vaguely, thin wisps of blew light chasing after her fingertips. "You are unwell and while I do not think I can mend everything- I should be able to help with some of your pain and weariness. If you permit it, that is."

Not everyone would. She'd curse them a fool but- Galadriel seemed baffled by her magic, as had Jamie. Wherever it was these people came from, fade or no, they might yet be unfamiliar with her sort of skills and what came with them. "The glowing is an outward manifestation of my power, or rather the power of the spirit I mean to channel in order to cure your wounds. It is....complicated to explain? But I mean you no harm. Else I wouldn't have bothered with the water and the cloak."

"You wouldn't be the first to claim either of those things." Referring to the both the magic and her giving him no grief, and using that as basis for not wanting him harm. And it would be the first time that someone were to immediately turn around and try to take advantage of him. It might be obvious that he still holds mistrust towards those around.

But at least he wasn't as cold anymore, with his body more efficiently covered than before, he wasn't shivering his butt off in the snow.

This could also prove to be rather educational as well. Perhaps she could enlighten him more on what's going on. "We have a long, why not explain?" Again, he's avoiding the topic of treating any wounds or aches he might have. As far as he's concerned editors, they're superficial at best for now. Never mind that he looks covered in some nasty burns, bruises, cuts, scraps and a myriad of other injuries. Never mind the fact that his own uniform looked just as worn as him.

"Because it's incredibly abstract and the best way to offer any sort of explanation involves a practical demonstration? Because it is difficult for me to focus while you are very obviously injured, you don't have the academic background to understand, I would rather see you tended to and move on to the next fool that thinks walking around burnt and bloody won't attract bears or more demons, I am exhausted and have no patience for a lecture in the spirit school of magic, you look terrible and it is beginning to actually cause me pain, if I let any of this sit the likelihood of infection is great and I'd rather not you lose a limb before we reach Skyhold, because it is simpler to explain after you've experienced it." She muttered, slinging the waterskin back over her shoulder.

"Let me work and I'll answer any and all questions you have as best I can. I will also see about finding you something more substantial to wear once we reach camp, you'll freeze to death despite the cloak before we reach our destination at this rate."

You'll have to excuse his rudeness here, but he feels like his reluctance to her offer should be considered as justified. They've only just met, and this is all new to him. Plus he's about had enough of freaky, glowing lights that he can't quite explain yet, it's all natural you know. "I'd much rather have an explanation than have something I don't know about performed on me."

He may be admitting to a weak point here, but it was probably already obvious to begin with.

"It's magic." That was normally explanation enough for anyone, even those that had fallen through the rift. Magic, yes, of course, what else could it possibly be? "Power will be poured through the fade at a Spirit's will and shaped by my hands and will, shall pour into your injuries and see them mended."

Was that enough?

Considering that most magic by his standards mainly consisted of card tricks? Not really. But that's probably going to be the best explanation that he's going to get at the moment. "And what's the Fade?"

But might as well keep this going for a moment longer, at the very least she's talking to him and not just staring at him with wide eyes. That's more than what most around him seem to do.

"The realm you fell through to get here." They were going for the big questions now, weren't they? Next thing she knew he'd be asking about Andraste and the Maker and the purpose of magic in a world of men of faith. Why not hit all the talking points at once? "A plane of existence parallel and concurrent with this one that is the source of all magic. Mages can tap into the fade, most cannot."

Only if she makes herself a target for it? Really all he cares for is figuring out how someone can shoot lighting out of her hands and make their eyes glow. Though her explanation just opens up more questions as to where he landed in looney-ville. Granted that he's probably going to have to wait until he was able to find any documents on the matter.... That is, if there are any documents on it.

"Then it can also take me back?" In theory, not that he really has anything to go back to. Not anymore.

"That I do not know. You fell through a rift- glowing great tears in the veil, the barrier between the Fade and this reality. They are...relatively new. At first all we thought could come through them were demons." He was no demon. "I would assume the way to return you from whence you came would involve the rifts, but no one knows all that much of them. You should have- on your hand? A mark."

Well at least this proved to be more insightful than he had originally hoped. If what she said is true, then these people are just as lost as him at the moment. It would be something else to look into and inquire about at least. Walker's rather certain that he won't be the only one trying to solve the puzzle either. Magic or no, this didn't seem to happen by chance, perhaps there was more to this than meets the eye?

Well, whatever the case, he starts studying the woman a bit more closely. His cold eyes taking in everyone he could about her. She wasn't lying, that much he could discern. Sighing, and figuring that he doesn't have much else to lose, he went on and nodded his head. "I do, bastard really hurt not that long ago. Kind of gotten used to it now though."

Plus he now has a nifty night light.

It is unsettling, the sharpness of his gaze. Were he not from another realm entirely she'd be viscerally reminded of the templars at her harrowing. Actually- it doesn't matter, she's reminded all the same and it puts a tension to her bearing that wasn't there previously. She wants to do her job and move on, one hand clenched tightly around her staff, the other waiting at her side. "I can help with that. I cannot remove it or cure it, but I can ease the pain and heal your wounds. Let me."

No please. No request. This is her job, what she was ordered to do. She will see it done.

His gaze continued for a moment longer before it relaxed slightly. Though he was still inspecting her closely, watching her body tense and grow restless under his gaze. Something about himself must have ticked her off, caused her to react in a way that grout back bad memories. It's got him on edge slightly, if nothing more than the fact that she was also tense.

"Why are you being so persistent about it?"

"Spirit Healing comes at a price. You cannot simply command a spirit on a whim. It is a partnership. Mine comes with a set of rules- one of which is that I am to mend those that have been hurt and ease their pain so long as it causes no detriment to my own health. Failing to do so makes the spirit I channel...irritable." As irritable as Compassion might be, at any rate. "It feels your hurt and wants to help at no cost to you. Do you enjoy wandering around beaten and bloody? Is this some strange warrior's display of masculinity and prowess?"

She bites off whatever else she might say and sighs. "That was uncalled for. You are...in a new world with strange people and I would simply like to do my job so I might move on to the other wounded. Permit me and I shall trouble you no longer."

"Fine." He said at long last after tossing it over in his head. But then the man quickly responded. "But no magic."

Is the challenge accepted? It's not like his life is in grave danger at the moment. Plus there's still that measure of distrust in him towards the group of people who defy the laws of nature and God. Not so much a dislike towards the woman herself, no, it's just that he's still debating on whether to trust these people or not.

"Thank y-" No magic? No-

"...the Maker is testing me." Fine. Fine. No magic. The glowing in her hand that flared up as soon as he'd said fine flickers into nothing. No magic. Fine!

She can do this. She will do this. And then she'll move on to whoever else that isn't near as irritable will let her do her work. "As you wish. No magic."

The unspoken 'idiot' at the end is fairly plain.

Adelaide tucks her staff against her shoulder and opens the pouch at her belt, pulling out a wrapped package of poultices and a potion. "From a scale of 'someone is poking me in the nose with a pen knife' to 'there is a bear mauling my scrotum', what level of pain are you experiencing?"

Simply because Compassion knew how badly he was hurt does not mean Adelaide has more than a rough inkling.

Well perhaps he was testing her and...what is all that? "The one with the bear." Only it's more of a creaking of worn bones type of pain. But at least she isn't about to blast him with whatever hocus-pocus that she's packing.

Best to not let a quack or charlatan do a doctor's or EMT's job.

"What's that stuff?" Because he'd really rather not be drugged or take anything that has dubious and sketchy written over it. God what he would give for just some regular ibuprofen right about now.

Shivering, he also added some hot chocolate and rum to the mix.

"Poultices, a potion, and a tonic. Unless you'd rather walk with open wounds all the way to Skyhold where there are surgeons and risk losing a leg." If he continues to balk at everything she has to work with she may very well leave, rules or no. Normally when there's this level of discomfort or distrust there's some manner of alternative to send the patient to but at the moment? She's the best they have and he continues to gripe.

Patience, kindness- no. You know what? No. Do the work and move on. "Drink this. It's a healing tonic, it will alleviate your pain."

A beat.

"It's a mixture of herbal extracts and alcohol. No magic."

That just gets a roll of his eyes. "I'm not losing anything." If he can run around the desert looking like this, then a bit of frostbite and old wounds aren't exactly going to get in his way. Even if they hurt like the dickens. "Been like this for a while." He muttered, voice still cracking from feeling dry.

He continues to gripe because he's only really met two people this far, both claiming to be magical.

Still he took the vial and scrutinized it closely. Then he held it up to his nose and gave it a sniff. Nothing out of the ordinary that he could notice before taking a small sip. His nose wrinkled a bit at the taste but still didn't find anything too wrong wth it.

"Why alcohol?" In other words, how much alcohol, he barely trusted the water she gave him, and that was mostly do to him worrying about anything in it that could cause a bout of dysentery.

Edited 2015-10-24 18:26 (UTC)

"...you are not at all helping your case." Maker willing he won't be her responsibility again in the future. She'll make certain he has a proper surgeon to work with in Skyhold. Maybe Bruce. Bruce would be patient with him.

"It provides a stronger extraction for the medicinal properties of the herbs." That's how tinctures work. Did he not have such things wherever he came from? "Where are the worst of your burns and cuts?"

Well of course he has, but they're not exactly widely used in modern medicine. Not when someone can chemically synthesize a pill that can work just as well. "And you're not helping yours." He still drank it slowly, eyes watching her closely before handing the flask back when he was finished.

Of course he really did have to raise an eyebrow at her next question. "The worst is the most obvious?" The one on his face that is. As nasty as everything else might look, they weren't all that bothersome as far as he was concerned. Though perhaps to someone else they may look rather terrible?

"I am not the one that fell through a hole in the sky and is being belligerent." She isn't on trial here. Still. Work to be done is work to be done no matter how troublesome. She pulls a salve from her pack and motions for him to tip his head to the side, peering at the worst of the burning. "You would not be the first warrior I've met to put their arms and armor on over an injury that's been poorly bound. This is salve, it'll mend the damage by the burn and numb the pain."

Rather than begin applying it she waited until he gave some indication it was acceptable.

"And I'm not the one who's proposing magic as a cure." Even if he's seen it before his eyes, Walker is still obviously rather hesitant to trust a person who considers using witchcraft and voodoo as a cure. Then she produced the salve and he sighed, of course. Perhaps he shouldn't be questioning her and just take the help at face value, but he just couldn't find it in himself to make it so easy.

"And if the burn was chemical in nature?" Though he doesn't exactly expect her to know about the possibility, and it wasn't exactly caused by anything chemical, even though he had been exposed multiple times. It was more or less caused by hot metal and friction. But Walker still put it out there. It was an obvious test to her knowledge, to see if she trips or stumbles. If she wants to play doctor then he was going to put her through the rings.

"Magic is a viable cure." It'd be quicker than this, but he wants none of it and thus gets the salve. Nevermind the question, she begins to apply it in a thick layer over the burned skin, frowning at the damage. Chemical burn? "From an alchemists trap or acid? It'd be a different salve. This does not look to be that, however."

The skin tends to blacken differently with chemicals, warp with acid. No, this is a simpler sort of pain. More familiar and thus, a quicker fix. "Are you going to be like this for every physician that tends to you, or am I a special case because I am a mage?"

"To me that sounds a lot like saying prayer will heal a wound." Because really saying you can cure someone from an ailment to him, is like saying cutting off a chicken's head would keep away the plague. Absolutely not credible at all, and makes him fear what the actual doctors are like. "Neither...something you wouldn't understand."

There was another sigh, he still looked at her with scrutiny, but if she were to look closer into his eyes, she may notice something...wrong with them, troubled, empty but not filled with any malice towards her. "If every physician acts like you, perhaps." Still he leaned down a bit and turned his head slightly so that she could more easily apply it. There's a bit of a large area to cover, as it encompasses much of his cheek and jaw, before reaching up to cover almost the entirety of his ear.

"Magic isn't exactly something that exists where I'm from."

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