faderift | OPEN: turn off the lights and I'll glow

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OPEN: turn off the lights and I'll glow

WHO: New rifters & characters in Emprise du Lion
WHAT: More people falling on ice than usual, this time with demons, templars, and bonus nighttime
WHEN: Guardian 23
WHERE: Emprise du Lion
NOTES: This month, the arrival log is open to all.

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 onto freezing stone or ice that is twice as cold and just as hard. When your breath returns and the light's after-image fades from your eyes you will find yourself beneath a dark sky, a full moon straining to be seen through intermittent clouds, and a second moon low on the horizon. Its light reflects off snow to add an eerie ambient glow to the darkness, made stranger by the sickly green tint added by the fluttery menacing shape of the rift hanging in mid-air. Be careful getting up: you are at the edge of a cliff, what was once a waterfall now frozen solid in a massive curling sheet of icicles. The drop to the bottom is several stories, surely a deadly fall even without the huge humps and spikes of ice and snow that litter the ground where splash and spray were petrified.

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 the fact 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. Some are entirely different but perhaps more monstrous for it: men and women in heavy, gleaming armor, all of them with chunks of red crystal protruding out in a way you soon realize indicates it is actually growing out of their skin. Their eyes are a dull red, hollow and empty, and they attack with a single-minded determination.

Luckily, you are not on your own. Around you others are waking up, equally confused, with the same green lights flaring from their hands. There is stuff scattered about, like the contents of someone's life exploded through the rift with them: a picnic table and benches upended, metal camp furniture flung about, clothes and utensils, bits of wood and canvas and mattress littering the ground. Even better, you are not far from a path leading toward an Inquisition camp, and noise travels far in this terrain, echoing up canyons and off cliffsides, carried by the chill night wind. Help is on its way; just last until it arrives.

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"Interact?" she frowns a little, looking down towards her left hand, though she can't actually see the glow to it what with her arms full of books. "What does that mean? I'm going to have to assume that demons won't come spilling out of my hand while I sleep... unless they're very small demons, but let's be serious." Though all things considered, the idea that her hand is now a key to some strange dimension that houses demons isn't as ridiculous as it should be, since as far as she knows, it's an actual possibility.

The frown doesn't exactly go away when she's told there wouldn't be an books available on the rifts. "What about publications? You have to have newspapers or something along those lines, don't you?"

She pauses for a moment after that introduction, considering the fact that the only "Inquisition" she'd ever heard of in her world hadn't exactly been accommodating to anyone who would call themselves a mage or anything similar. "Hermione Granger," she replies. "It's nice to meet you. During the fight, I met someone who told me I should speak to a mage to find out more about how things work here."

After another brief pause, she reluctantly adds, "There was another one there; tall, with, um...." At that, she gestures to her temples and then at Korrin, indicating the horns. She doesn't want to risk offending her by calling them the wrong thing, and given how intimidating Iron Bull had been, she hadn't wanted to directly bring up the whole what are you? query. Korrin at least seems a little more approachable, given that she isn't swinging an axe around. "I've never seen anyone like you before today. I've heard of goblins and house-elves and giants and trolls, but somehow, I don't think you fit into the same classification as anyone I've ever seen or read about."

As Hermione indicates the horns, Korrin doesn't seem offended in the least. If anything, she chuckles. Hey, it's better than being called an 'ox' or other such slurs. She'd deal with questions any day, and given that her kind don't seem to have a presence in any other world so far, she's not surprised. "Ah...no, I'm none of those things. We're taller than humans, sure, but giants are far bigger. I hate to complicate things, but the truth is there's no one name for my kind; the horns aren't the important distinction, but the way we live our lives. Those who follow the Qun, this horribly oppressive cult, are called Qunari. Those breaking away from it are called Tal-Vashoth. Those never born to it at all -like me- are called Vashoth."

Her expression is apologetic, but she really can't risk Hermione calling Kas a Qunari or Iron Bull a Tal-Vashoth. Neither scenario would end well. "You must mean either Kas or the Iron Bull, then. Kas is young, with small horns and a bow. The Iron Bull...well, the name is apt." There's evident fondness when she speaks of Kas that is distinctly absent when speaking about Bull. But Korrin won't drag Hermione into that, not when they just met and there's so much else to discuss.

"As for interacting, I'm not sure how else to explain it; but when you hold that particular hand up to a rift, both glow and if the rift is weak enough, it's sealed. Usually, that's only possible if we kill enough demons first, since otherwise their presence just keeps it open." She shrugs, wishing she could describe it better, but there are other people for that. "You should talk to Adelaide when you can; she's a Spirit Healer and knows a great deal more about the Fade and its inhabitants than I do, though she doesn't have a mark like yours."

Reaching into her armor, Korrin draws out a crystal hanging on a thin chain around her neck. "There's the bulltin board at Skyhold, but the fastest way to pass on information is through one of these. It's a sending crystal, and when you talk at it, it...well, sends your voice. Joining up with the Inquisition will allow you to get one of your own, and with it you'll be able to talk to anyone also part of the organization."

That's a lot of new vocabulary being thrown her way, and Hermione struggles to keep it all intact. After all, this has to do with someone's culture, and someone's "cult" is another person's religion, so she's going to do her best to be respectful. "So... what does the 'Tal' mean in Tal-Vashoth? I'd assume it has something to do with choice, but I'd rather not make assumptions."

She doesn't exactly have to think about it long to remember who she'd been speaking to. "The Iron Bull, then. Are there really so few of you, or are those just the only ones out here at the moment?"

One day, she'll apologize for all her questions. But today definitely won't be that day. "What do you mean by a Spirit Healer? We have Healers, and Muggles have therapists to try and heal the metaphorical spirit, but... you're not talking about an actual soul, are you? No one can really repair that."

Eyeing the crystal just a little skeptically, she resists the urge to call it a mobile, instead admitting, "I've never seen anything like that before. It just records your voice and allows others to hear it? Can they can reply to you directly?"

Korrin nods, turning it around in her fingers. "Yes, they can, if they also have a crystal and it's activated. When it's off, it'll store messages so you can listen to them later. When that happens, the crystal will glow to alert you of that. You can send messages to all Inquisition crystals, a single person, and so on. It'll default to everyone hearing unless you specify, in which case you say their names. You can always do distance, too, saying you want to speak with everyone within a half mile. Don't worry about absorbing all that, I'm sure it'll all be repeated again."

Tucking her crystal back, she proceeds to answer as many questions as she can recall, while checking to see if there's anything else practical she can help carry before they head off. "A Spirit Healer is a person who's bonded with a spirit in the Fade -a benevolent sort, not a demon- and that bond allows them access to incredible feats of healing that no mage can do without it. It's not for me, so I don't know the details, but we have a few of them around.

As for my kind, no, there aren't too many in the south or the Inquisition. I'm familiar with...four others, at the moment? Humans tend to be the most numerous, big surprise, then elves and dwarves. As for Tal-Vashoth, it means 'true grey ones' the Tal part meaning 'true'. I don't really know why they use that term or why there isn't one for the race as a whole, but whatever. It is what it is." Sorry her people are needlessly complicated, Hermione.

While soaking in large amounts of information in a short amount of time isn't unusual for her, Hermione still looks uncertain about the crystal. "It comes with an instruction pamphlet, I hope? Otherwise I can imagine many people sending messages without meaning to and receiving messages not intended for them."

The idea of a Spirit Healer doesn't really get much easier to understand, at least not from Hermione's ultra-logical perspective "You mean... a ghost? People can use ghosts to help them with healing?" The only time she'd ever seen anyone use any kind of magic that had to do with souls, it had involved Voldemort ripping his own soul to shreds in the search for immortality; it hadn't really had much to do with healing.

She can't help smiling a little at the mention of elves (though she has no way of knowing that the elves here are much different from the ones she knows back home), but the smile goes away when she's left attempting to study the etymology of a language she'd never heard of. "Well, I assume that Qunari are called such because they follow this Qun religion, which in their minds is the right path. A Vashoth is someone who'd never had the Qun in their lives, right? Which wouldn't necessarily make them bad, but they aren't on the right path. They fall into a grey area not of their own making. A Tal-Vashoth, though, are those who make the conscious choice to break away from this path; which again, doesn't make them good nor bad, but this time, they chose to enter that grey area of their own free will, which might account for what makes them 'true grey ones'."

Realizing she's rambling to someone about a culture she's not the least bit familiar with, she remarks, "Sorry, I'm just trying to make it make sense in my own head. I don't mean to tell you what your own culture believes. That wouldn't be right of me."

Rather than offended, Korrin looks somewhat amused. Lips twitching briefly, she shakes her head and smiles. "It's as good a guess as any I can offer, honestly. And I don't often meet people -especially humans- who take the time to try and puzzle such things out. Most often, they forget the other terms and lump us all together with 'qunari', no matter how inaccurate the term for some. I won't be offended if you need a reminder, either. You're having a lot thrown at you right now; sorry about that."

And she is, sympathetic to anyone ripped from their world to land in her mess of a one. "No, not a ghost. A spirit. Spirits and demons are a completely different category; they were never human or other mortal races, but always part of the Fade. Spirits tend to embody different virtues; the Spirit Healer friend that I mentioned has Compassion working through her to provide healing. That is a subject you'll find in the library, though a lot of sources are Chantry-based and therefore biased against them. It's better to use those as a starting-off point to learning, not an end-result."

She glances around as she speaks, doing her best to remain alert but after the rift demons, the wildlife seems to want to stay well away from the area. Good enough for her. "There ought to be a pamphlet, yes, as we haven't had a lot of mistakes like the ones you describe. That's all back at camp or Skyhold, though. Is there anything else from all this that you want with you before we go?"

Now's the time, before other people, beasts, or elements claim them at some point. She'd offer to make multiple trips, but rerouting Red Templars is a slightly more pressing duty for the day.

It is a lot to digest, but nevertheless, Hermione can’t help looking somewhat scandalized at the thought that she’d need a reminder about the different kinds of people that fall under the umbrella term of Qunari. “No, of course not! If there’s enough of a difference that you’d identify explicitly as one and not the other, then it’s worth remembering. I apologize if I ever get confused, but please, correct me when I do and I’ll be sure to apologize.”

She listens carefully as Korrin tries to explain spirits, but she’s just as happy to find that she could read up on the subject. “I might enjoy reading,” she tells her with a small smile, “but I’m perfectly capable of formulating my own opinions through extended research and experience rather than take a book for face value.” After all, she’d made the embarrassing mistake of believing in Gilderoy Lockhart’s invented adventure stories, and she doesn’t intend to be taken in by propaganda again.

Looking around at the things still littering the ground and hoping that Harry’s cloak and Gryffindor’s sword simply never made it through with her rather than risk them falling into the wrong hands, she shook her head. “Just a few changes of clothes, I suppose, since I wouldn’t want to inconvenience anyone for anything like that.” She went to pick up her dress, smiling a little ruefully. “I don’t suppose I’ll be needing this here, but I can probably find some use for it if I can’t mend it properly.”

Her gaze falling to the dress, Korrin shrugs and smiles sympathetically. She can understand wanting to keep something for sentimental reasons, and since it shouldn't be too bulky, why not? "You never know. We have an ambassador who sponsors all sorts of diplomatic affairs. It's not all about battle, though admittedly there's a lot of it." Dancing, charming people, behaving within the strict bounds of Orlesian etiquette...no, thank you. Not her style at all. Korrin will stick to her forte; spirit blades and blasting everything with lightning.

The rest of what's said is met with a nod of approval from Korrin, who finds herself liking the young mage the more they speak. Bravery and consideration are traits she always values, and Hermione seems to have plenty of both. "And that's good to hear. Not all of that library ought to be trite propaganda, anyway. Dorian -a fellow mage who critiques the library all the time- would have a fit if they didn't include some decent tomes for his perusal." If those two don't become good friends, Korrin will be much surprised.

"Well, you're already showing better manners than a lot of people native to this world. I think we'll get along just fine." She flashes a warm smile, which fades a little as her gaze falls to the shard embedded in Hermione's hand. "That pain ought to fade in a few hours. Please let someone know if it doesn't, as that's something we definitely need to know."

"Diplomatic affairs? They don't expect people not native to this land to take part in those, do they?" Not that Hermione has any aversion to dressing up and bring polite, so long as she can still express her own opinions in a civil manner. She simply can't imagine any ambassador thinking that it would be a good idea to have a bunch of strangers involved in any kind of event involving diplomacy, not when it could mean so many different things to different people.

Smiling a little at the mention of another "mage" who spent time in the library, Hermione mentions, "Well, at least I won't be alone there. I'll have to ask him for some recommendations."

She'd been plucking up a few articles of clothing, less discerning about the tops, given that she's not so fashion-conscious that she wouldn't wear Harry or Ron's jumpers when in a pinch. As for the rest, though, she's clearly careful to make sure she's grabbing specific clothes, since that would be a bit more awkward. The mention of her hand, though, makes her clench her fist a bit, frowning down at it. "Is it dangerous? In the long-term, I mean?"

Those questions are met with unusual hesitation for Korrin, hating to be the bearer of bad news and yet not wanting ignorance to cause worse pain. "...they might be. I'm a mage, but this is magic that I -that no one, really- has ever seen before in Thedas. Power like that doesn't come without a price. The first person to have it, the Herald of Andraste, didn't possess a stable mark at first. It would have consumed her, if she hadn't stabilized the Breach. She was able to seal it later...at the cost of her life."

Thinking back to that awful night, Korrin sighs and tears her gaze away. "Those with echoes of her mark don't seem to have the stability problems she had, but it'd be foolish of me to promise that it will always be that way. Believe me, I'd love nothing more than to guarantee safety."

Hermione doesn't know what this price might be, or who or what this Andraste is, but she assumes that these are all questions that she can get the answer to in the library. Right now, she's just more concerned over whether or not this strange light will, in Korrin's words, consume her.

"Is there anyone who can make any guarantees, one way or the other?" she asks, having gathered everything she intends to gather and looking back at Korrin. "A healer, perhaps? Or at least someone with a viable theory? I can lend myself to research, especially if I'm not the only one affected."

Hermione volunteering right away gets a small smile of approval from Korrin, who understands and appreciates that enthusiasm. Just because she doesn't have any such shard herself -yet- doesn't mean there isn't a powerful incentive on her part to ensure the safety of all who bear them. "Assistance in research would definitely be welcome. We were just discussing that in the latest council meeting, actually, trying to get the Inquisition to put more funds into that. Adelaide's been taking up the bulk of that research, I believe, and will definitely want to speak with you about your shard. The two of you might work well together."

Surely Adelaide would appreciate someone with intelligence and zeal, which Hermione seems to possess in spades. "As to your earlier question, no, you won't need to worry about anything diplomatic unless you want to go in that area. My girlfriend's undergoing training as a bard, for instance, and that's their area of expertise. But I won't keep us here when you have to be getting colder by the minute. We can warm up at camp and see about sending scouts back this way to collect anything else...within reason." Anything both portable and useful stands a good chance, but that picnic table is just going to remain where it is, sorry.

Hermione nods slowly in response, considering that. Research isn't always working off of books and notes, she realizes, especially not if it's the sort of research that seems to require more funding, but she's still willing to do what she can. "I'd appreciate an introduction, then."

Hermione doesn't really notice the cold until Korrin points it out. Because right, it's snowy and she'd just fought demons on the ice and she's under-dressed and on top of that she generally feels naked without her magic, so now that she does notice it, she shivers a bit.

"I'd appreciate that, too. The fire, I mean. And coming back to look for things, though the only things that are important are the cloak and the sword, and they don't seem to be here." She pauses, frowning at the various camping memorabilia. "And I would have preferred getting the tent back to Mr. Weasley in one piece, but it doesn't look like that's possible."

"Nope, not at all." Korrin's smile is apologetic, as any tent which was able to contain this much with magic would have been a definite boon. "But hopefully he'd have his priorities in order and just be glad that nothing worse happened. C'mon, then. It's not far."

She'll take one last, lingering glance to be sure that nothing's going to pursue them, but all she spots are some snoufleurs waddling in the distance. They're hardly a threat. Taking point, she has her staff out again just in case there's trouble between here and the Inquisition area of influence.

Even if she hadn't seen Mr. Weasley for a few weeks since school had started up, she finds herself missing him and his family. And her family. Knowing that she'll see them for the holidays is one thing, but when the future is as uncertain as all this and she doesn't even have Harry as her constant support....

Sighing, she forces herself not to think about them and to focus on the present, at least until she has some warmth and shelter to give herself the illusion of stability. "Thank you," she tells Korrin quietly, reasserting her grip on as much of her life as she can carry as she follows after her.

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OPEN: turn off the lights and I'll glow

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