We come from the land of the ice and snow

[faderifting]

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!

Comments

[equanimiti]

A frown touches the corners of his lips once he's an unlikely reply. The Knight-Commander turns his head slowly. "Do you speak for yourself or for all of your ilk?" He asks once he lays his eyes upon the speaker. Once grey met blue, Alayre falls to instantly falls silent. Never in his days has he seen someone as lovely as her. With eyes that match sapphire and hair as shimmering as gold, Alayre was stunned to silence when he locked gaze with this woman.

The Knight-Commander stands there with obvious befuddlement written across his face as he eyes the beauty. Alayre takes a moment to regain his composure after staring for a second too long. He closes his eyes briefly as if to shake her ethereal beauty out of his mind. That awestruck gaze of him vanishes for now and is replaced by his usual steely gaze.

"Neither I or my men are easily pacified by words alone. You and your others stumble upon Skyhold at its darkest of hours. Trepidation has claimed the hearts of many and many more shall be claimed by fear. The order is lacking and this may just tip us into pure chaos."

[laurenande]

If Galadriel took any offense at his words, it did not reflect on her face nor in her posture. As he finished, her brows pinched in a subtle expression of concern.

"Do not despair," Galadriel said, her voice far softer than her last words had been. Her tone did not remain fixed, however, and gradually returned to its more common volume and cadence as she spoke. "Your men stand tall, your fortress is unassailable, and fear can only claim what foothold is given to it."

She regarded him evenly and there was a sharpness to her smile. Though men often ascribed her power to her race, or age, or to the ring she bore, they were all of them incorrect. Galadriel was powerful because she was wise and clever, not wise because she had power. She could appreciate the strangeness of this situation, but there was little sense in pageantry and overt conflict.

"I assure you, we are not worthy of worry. Do not allow a dozen lost souls to grant fear any purchase here. Caution is not unwise, but there is no need for spectacle."

[equanimiti]

A frown lingers upon Alayre's lips as he regards the woman's words. Judging her from just her flowy gown and strangely ambient glow, he figured the woman to be a mystic or seerer of some kind. She certainly fits the role of one considering the strange tranquility in her tone. Unlike some of the others who dare to encroach upon the Skyhold and its secrets, this golden lady doesn't seem to be worth his worries at all. It is like she has said, he shouldn't fret over a dozen or so wanderers but this is still a rather peculiar situation. Awkward, even.

"My fears would be lessen had some of these uninvited 'guests' listened to reason." The Knight-Commander replies as he orders his entourage to take their leave of them. Too many of these 'rifters' seem far too eager to explore the hold for his liking. The Templar as a whole aren't fond of the idea of letting strangers through those gates but at one point, they were also strangers as well. Therefore, none of these good men could point blame at the rifers excitement but be damned if they like it.

Once the group disperses, Alayre turns towards the shining lady with a curious glance. "Tell me, what do you know of this realm, my lady? Have you become acquainted with it yet?" He asks out of wonder and worries both.

"Thedas is a cruel realm forever affixed with war and bloodshed. Tis no paradise but more of a purgatory depending on who you question. The Skyhold, home of the Inquisition, is all that's left of the good in this world."

[laurenande]

"I am learning much of this place," Galadriel replied as she watched the array of armed men take some measure of ease. She wasn't given to advising others, at least not so boldly, but he had taken to reason with ease. If nothing else, he had earned a place in her regard.

"Though I find it sorrowful that so many think these lands are utterly lost," she added and something in her hard, clever visage softened with a touch of ageless sadness. "Already I have seen much that is bright and beautiful, but I am familiar with the fragility of hope."

This was not a wise conversation to have, not with anyone who stood inside the keep. She dismissed it with a calm shake of her head. Her smile was polite when she leveled it at the commander again. Already much of the tension had left the courtyard; the burden of peace was not a heavy one, at least, not when there were no enemies afoot.

"I would see more of this stronghold, if it is permissible. Rarely have I encountered a fortress that holds the sky as this one does, and I cannot help but wonder about it." She glanced at the walls. Though they were in disrepair, they were still centuries old, stronger than the earth beneath them. "It reminds me of much older days."