faderift | We come from the land of the ice and snow

We come from the land of the ice and snow

WHO: Open to all
WHAT: Thedas' strange new guests are delivered to Skyhold
WHEN: 25 Harvestmere (October)
WHERE: Skyhold main gate & courtyard
NOTES: This is Part I of a two-part intro event, Part II will be posted tomorrow.

A long uphill tromp through the snowy mountains ends at Skyhold, the distant fortress finally before them in all its tumble-down glory. There is time to admire the drop into the river gorge far below as they cross the only bridge into the castle; it is briefly backed up with traffic, several carts bearing supplies and visitors stalled as the portcullis is raised. Those coming to help catalog and unload the shipment and greet the guests, or otherwise present near the front courtyard, will find themselves witness to a far more interesting arrival.

Guards at the gate carry the word quickly, and more gather, though they make no move to imprison the strange people who fell out of a rift. They just line the perimeter and keep a close watch. Perhaps this adds a level of tension to this first encounter, but it also reassures the many who are unsettled by the uncertain turn of events and keeps in check those who might attack first and ask questions later. Others will no doubt soften the Inquisition's first impression, offering food, information, and other assistance.

Medical attention is available in the tented-encircled corner of the courtyard where the wounded from Haven are still treated. The quartermaster's assistant is called upon to provide spare odds and ends of clothing to those in need, and to issue blankets for all, though they are left to fend for themselves to find places to sleep.

Any mage willing to help is called in to do so and a cluster forms in one side of the courtyard to examine the rifters. They are objects of curiosity in general, but the marks on their hands are of particular interest, resembling smaller slivers of the Herald's famous mark. Despite their best efforts, no mage will be able to provide any real insight after this initial assessment. What the rifters and their marks are is a question they cannot answer today.

But one question is answered: in the midst of all the commotion, another Inquisition agent arrives from Haven, rushing in red-faced to announce that the Herald's body has finally been found.

OOC

It will be decided (partly for OOC reasons, admittedly) that the rifters will not be imprisoned at this point, but they will be watched carefully, and the guards are on alert for any strange behavior by people with glowing hands or strange attire. And of course, their freedom can be revoked at any time if they're deemed a danger. Though there are some OOC considerations at play here, you're welcome to ICly lobby for more or less freedom for the rifters, and things may change based on IC action/consensus.

Also: Part II, aka the log for the funeral/wake/etc. event, will go up tomorrow!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Near the medical tent

He wasn't really that interested in seeking medical attention or supplies, only accepting a skin of water, he made sure it was boiled first, and a bit of bread to munch on. No, what he was more interested in was what people were saying and those wandering around. He had spotted others with a mark similar to him, though they were few and treated much like him, an oddity being coddled. He saw through the attempts at trying to sway how they viewed this "Inquisition.". The word held stigma in his mind, memories of his history classes teaching students about the infamous Spanish Inquisition rang through his mind.

For now he was going to keep an open mind and try not to do anything to gain the ire of these people. But anyone who looked closely may notice that he was on edge.

Training ground

This is a military force. That was most obvious as he watched groups of people training. His eyes calculating any corrections that may need to be made silently. Memories of missions and duties to train local forces were fresh in his mind, as if he were there yesterday. Training local militants to fight other militants, what an idea. Perhaps he could interject, giving tips here and there, but for now he would leave them to it, content with just watching for now.

Nighttime on the battlement

The night was just as unrestful as the day had been. People were still wide awake and just as active in the tavern below as they had been when he first arrived. For the moment he needed quiet though, a place to think and gather together what he had learned from the past few days. Magic is a real force here, this isn't a dream as near as he can tell, and the land is being torn apart by war, demons and some unknown force that he has yet to determine. But from what he could tell it was the same force that was responsible for the destruction of the small town he had original found himself in.

Sighing he glanced towards his glowing hand. It still hurt, but it was more of a dull ache by now. This is going to be troublesome, Walker could tell. Out from one fire and I to another. At least there's no fucking sand here. Then his ears perked up, and head turned to the sound of someone nearby. "Sneaking around?"

Bruce wasn't say he was good at reading people, but he was good at telling when people was on edge. Maybe it was a result of his own life on the run, or just his own paranoia, but it was just easier to tell when somebody was more liable to explode.

So with this particular person Bruce tries to take it slow. He makes sure to have himself be noticeable as he approaches the strange Rifter, keeping his movements slow and non-threatening. In his hands were some food he had managed to get from the kitchens, and slung over his shoulder was his bag of supplies and materials.

"Hello," he starts, slow and steady, keeping his movements cautious as he approaches the other.

He gave the approaching man a measured stare. Another curious by standard come to ask him questions perhaps? To gawke at the half-charred man in foreign clothing? Most likely not, he thinks it may be one of the staff, perhaps coming to check on hi,. Can't leave any of them well enough alone after all.

Not when he's an unknown.

Walker noticed the mans movements were slow, measured and careful. Like he was scared of setting him off. "Relax, I'm not going to bite." Not this time anyway.

"Well, I don't think biting in general would end well." His tone was wry, but Bruce managed a smile nonetheless. He moved closer to the rifter and then settled down beside him, and after a pause passed over the food he had with him.

"I noticed that you didn't eat a lot earlier," he says, still keeping his voice quiet despite the reassurance - Bruce had never been a very loud person anyway. "If you're still hungry, you can have these leftovers."

"No, it wouldn't." It really wouldn't, but he would make sure to get out of any trouble that it may cause. One way or another. Slowly he shuffled a few inches away from the man, allowing him a bit of space in his social bubble, but not too close. Not from anything psychological or nervous ticks, but more of cultural quirk than anything.

"I just don't want to take too many risks eating and drinking things in a foreign land I've never visited before now." At the offer of food he looks from what was being offered then back to the man. "I'm fine, thanks. Best to give it to someone else who really needs it. But perhaps you could answer some questions." Even if he's gotten the basic gist of things by now, everyone has their own view and option on things.

Best to balance it all, he found.

Bruce frowned a little when the offer was declined, but he didn't push it and put the food aside; he'd probably distribute it around to some of the refugees that needed them later.

"Of course," he answered with a nod. "I'll do my best to answer them." It must be strange, to suddenly come to a place that was nothing like what you knew. The least he could do was to try and clear up as much of that confusion as he could.

An answer to that frown came at the nibble of the bread. Really, he's got himself all set up right now. "I suppose we should start with the most obvious then."

To that point he lifted his hand and unwrapped the bandages around it. Though that would probably have been unnessary as Bruce could most certainly see the faint glow from beneath. He had originally been careful about who got to see it, but figured that there'd be no answers if he didn't ask. "What do you know about this?"

Edited 2015-10-27 00:07 (UTC)

Ah--yes. The mark. It was the question on their minds as well as on everyone else's in Skyhold. Bruce wished he had answers, he really did, but...

"We're just as lost as you are," he returns honestly. "None of us can know anything beyond speculating at this point. I'm sure the mages want to figure out as well, but..."

With Haven gone, and the Herald... well. It was a hard them for them all.

It figures as much. No one seems to know anything around here, it frustrated him greatly. But he still kept his calm, it's just going to mean that much more work for him. "Was their anything off about the first person found with the mark? Strange appearance, mannerisms or anything else?"

Everything and anything that could be given, even the smallest piece of information might be important in solving this mystery. Martin doesn't want any trouble, if anything he would like to be left well enough alone. But chances were that's not going to happen, he's found himself in the middle of yet another conflict that he has no idea about.

Trapped in a place that's bound to be filled with many twists and where reality isn't, yes anything helps.

Bruce can only guess how frustrating this must all be; he really wished that he could provide any sort of answers, but as it is everyone was all in the dark. Why were these rifters were, and how did they come here? It was all one giant mystery.

"The first person found with the mark..." Well, if he was talking about the sort of mark they had right now, then--"All of you are the first time we've seen something exactly like this. I suppose the Herald had something similar, but without any real knowledge, that's just speculation and nothing more."

And that similarity was pretty much just in the physical, after all. Even the mark on the Herald didn't have her going to an entirely different world, from what he understood thus far about these rifters.

It is frustrating, it makes him want to strike out on his own. But he'll refrain for now, if only do to him being unsure what's out there. If these people, the ones who are supposedly trying to help him and others, react the way they do to his mark, then just how would the rest of this world's denizens act?

No, best to wait and learn and what he can here.

"I see...." He's certain that there's plenty more to the story than what was said. But he will leave it for now. From what he can tell this "Herald" was precious to these folk. Losing them must have been quite the blow. "And where are we exactly? Are there any maps I can use?"

"We're currently in Skyhold - a fortress located deep inside the Frostback Mountains." He paused for a moment, realizing that the rifter probably had no idea what any of that meant. "You know what empires and kingdoms are, at least? Right now we're seated right at border between two of them - Ferelden and Orlais. The Inquisition itself is a neutral force, created in order to close the Breach and find out the people responsible for it."

He gestured towards the sky at that - the Breach wasn't open any more and it was probably a bit too far to see the mark as compared to Haven, but by now it was nearly instinctive. Bruce had spent a good deal of time in Haven, before... well, all of this. "As for maps, you can probably look around. I'm not sure if there are many, but there should at least be some hanging around Skyhold."

No, that wouldn't have meant anything to him, and the idea of empires and kingdoms leaves a sour taste on his tongue. But he'll manage for now. It probably just means that he'll have to keep quiet about certain things. Just something else to get used to, he supposed. "I'll have to take a look around then."

He conceded before prompting another question. "So what is this threat your facing? What do you perceive as being a threat?"

Things were much different here than wherever the rifter once hailed from, Bruce knew that much at least. At least, while they were here, he would do his best to help them understand how things were like in this place. Hopefully that would aid them and everyone else in understanding the exact natural and circumstances of their arrival, in time.

"Well, we have a fair number of threats," he replied, mentally ticking them off in his head as he listed them down. "There's the recent return of dragons that threaten the ecosystem of some areas. There're the Blights - the last one was just ten years back, in Ferelden... generally anything that can jeopardize the stability of one of the bigger nations is a threat. But the one we face now is a being who calls himself Corypheus. He and his forces were the ones that razed down the place we had been at previously."

Thedas was no stranger to danger, that was for sure. He wasn't sure what it was like for this rifter and wherever he hailed from, but it would be nice if there were other places better than here.

Things were far more different here than any other place that he's been back home. Sure he recognizes some familiar, architecture that reminded him of an old, European settlement. Bust, aside from some small things, it's quite different. At the very least they seem to share a common language...kind of.

"I'm guessing this Corypheus has a small army of followers then?" Much like certain groups back home that he's familiar with. "What's been done about him already?"

"More like a very large army," Bruce returned, unable to quite keep the wryness out of his voice. He recalled the chaos that had taken place there, with all the people that had attacked.

Not to mention the dragon.

"Recently? Nothing." The words are honest, Bruce responding with a small shake of his head. "We were caught unprepared, and having lost Haven... its been blow after blow." And now the Herald was gone as well. How many more were going to lose their lives for this?

Obviously it was a very large army. What else could it be? Well, large army or no, any fighting force could be destroyed with relative ease. The only thing was the challenge in doing so. Thoughts drifted back to the 33rd and their demise.

This was different though, he would make it appear different.

"Is that how you view it?" Walkers thinking that he should probably ask any commanders about that. "Who's in charge?"

Bruce could only shrug at the question. "Hard to tell. We have a number of people that we all look up to, but we don't have a definite leader to defer to." Sure, there was the Commander, but he was the head of the military, and while Seeker Pentaghast was the closest candidate, there was no official claim as the leader.

Not wanting to leave him without any options, however, Bruce continued on. "You can ask Commander Cullen or Seeker Pentaghast, though. They're the ones who know better than I do."

Well he does suppose that their last, supposed and de facto leader, is gone now. From what can gather at least. So it would most certainly take some time before business could be placed back together once more. His jaw clenched and then unclenched in thought, making a mental note of those names. Sounds like he's going to have to do a bit of hunting then.

"Thanks, who are you anyway?"

"It's no problem," Bruce returns easily, trying his best to give another encouraging smile. As hard as their current plight was the rifters probably had it worse, being away from anything even remotely familiar. Bruce might not have the exact same experience but he can relate to that, at least.

At the inquiry of who he was Bruce just smiled wryly and introduced himself. "Sorry - it's Bruce. I'm a surgeon helping out around here in the Inquisition." Not the most desired job, but it was one he wanted to do, and one that he chose.

"Must have your job cut out for you right now." He glanced around himself, refugees, injured and people who were just swept up in it all. Lots of work indeed. But he did suppose that it shouldn't last for long. Hopefully the supplies they managed to collect would go to good use here. Depending on those in command. It's something to be hopeful for, at least.

Even if he probably shouldn't care that much about these people, it's best to get on their good side.

"Heard anything interesting while on he job? Besides the obvious."

"I manage." As overwhelming as the work could be at times, Bruce felt good being able to do this. To help people, heal their wounds and treat their injuries. With every person he helped he could pretend that it lifted just a bit more of the guilt on his shoulders... even if he knew that wasn't true in the slightest.

With the next question Bruce only shakes his head, offering another apologetic smile while he replies. "Not really, no. I don't really try to pry into what people are talking about, as much as I can." They had a right to some privacy, and he was here to do his job. Anything else beyond that, Bruce did his best not to interfere.

"Not much for gossip then?" It was said as casually as possible to get this guy to open up a bit more about anything he could have possibly overheard, big or small it didn't matter. Much of the time it was the boots on the ground, or the people who just got caught up in everything, that took the most notice of certain situations.

Such as whether or not he would be tossed in a cage.

"Not really, no." If he was trying to find any information then he wasn't going to get much from Bruce. Even if he did hear something Bruce wasn't just going to pointlessly say it aloud.

Still, he didn't have to worry - if the rifters were to be imprisoned it would have been done a good while ago.

"Hm..." He silently starts munching on his bread and drinking his water. Not really sure what else to say at the moment unless something else was brought up. In truth he wasn't feeling all that up to talking but at least it bore some fruits? Cassandra and Cullen, he loved the names away in his head, would write them down too if he had a pencil and notepads with him. Alas he doesn't anymore, they were one of the first things to be lost.

We come from the land of the ice and snow

Martin Walker || ota

near the medical tents

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