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!

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So it was true, she had come from the Rifts, but she wasn't a creature of the Fade. That, along with everything else, was a bit much to take in at once, but he's faring well under it all. Just one thing at a time. At least it was a bit more clearer that the mark had to do something with the rift, and why it gave him the same feeling in the pit of his stomach with it being close.

Sam finds himself a bit nervous when the woman looks at him. It's probably because she's quite lovely in an ethereal kind of way, and the way she looks at you seems like she can look right into your soul. He's not used to that. "Did anyone explain to you what the Fade is besides mentioning it by name?"

"A few have tried," Galadriel's mild smile was wan as she replied. "Though I fear there is some deep knowledge that one or both of us lacked."

She cast a spare glance at the humans behind him, they had moved along to watch others. In the midst of all these faces, her gentle nature and calm tone was not enough to hold their attention. Her mark was calmer, by some happenstance, and proved less of an amusement. She folded her hands before her; his questions had been answered and the attention had moved beyond them, there was no reason to remain so awkwardly posed as they spoke.

"I understand that it is a place of--" She hesitated briefly. She was reluctant to use the word but, unfortunately, lacked alternatives. "--demons, and a way-point for spirits of the dead. The rifts open to it and the sky was torn to reveal it, but beyond that I know nothing. That is the sum of my knowledge of The Fade."

Sam chuckles at that, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Ah, yes. It can be a difficult subject to explain." At seeing the woman standing a bit more leisurely, Sam feels a bit calmer himself, which is evident in how his shoulders slump just a bit, the tension leaving them.

"I see. That's a pretty decent grasp of it actually." There's another chuckle as a particular buzzing in his ear is rather insistent. "Though it isn't just demons and the spirits of the deceased. The Fade is the home for spirits in general, demons only being the malicious kind. There are plenty that are good. I couldn't tell you exactly where the Fade is, but it is closely connected to this world. But you are right about the rifts and the breach. It is not unusual for there to be windows between the worlds, but not like this. This is completely new for us."

"It is another world?" Galadriel asked, clearly baffled by the idea.

It did not startle her to find that there was ambiguity among the severed and independent fëa of this world, that a spirit held complex shades of purpose and violence was hardly a shock. That The Fade wasn't a location in this world, however, that was very unusual. She had no concept of how that would occur, even being in Thedas was merely an extension of being in Arda, at least as she saw it, but another realm? Particularly a realm specific of spirits and not some accursed place steeped in memory? That she had not considered at all.

She could not have considered it, she barely grasped it now.

The closest analogs she could draw were the spaces beyond creation, but they were clearly within the bounds of creation. To draw something across that barrier was...impossible, by all counds. One could not force something into creation, not without the kindling flame or might beyond measure, and this green light could not possibly bestow either.

"The Fade is...apart from this land?" she asked slowly, attempted to clarify her question, but the concept was too strange to truly articulate. "It is not...a place?"

Sam rubs the back of his head and lets out a long, slow breath. "It's..." How qualified was he to be talking about the Fade? He wasn't as experienced as other Mages who had been learning magic for much longer. "...complicated."

He takes a moment to consider his words. It was easy to talk to someone who was able to experience the Fade - another Mage - but talking to someone who barely, or in this case never, had a connection to it? Sam wasn't the most eloquent with words either.

"The Fade is... a part of this world, just as much as it is separate...? This is a physical realm while the Fade is... fluid. Normally people only see the Fade when they dream, but it is fleeting. It's different for those who can use magic. We draw power from there so when we dream we are more connected and able to observe the Fade more clearly." There's a pause, hoping that this is making sense. Or was he making this worse?

For the first time since she had arrived in this place, Galadriel had a moment of true understanding. Her expression changed, both curious and surprised, as the concepts, as the accounts and explanations that had been given to her all came together. She still watched him, but with a new intensity, as if trying to see some part of him that wasn't entirely present.

"The power you use for your works," she paused and recalled Adelaide. "For your magic, is not your own? You draw it into yourselves?"

Humans were not so bound to their spirits that their bodies were worn away by them. Did this ability wear on them? Did it force their spirits to themselves, bind them as neatly as the elves were bound? No, they still slept. Their spirits did not sustain them in the same manner as the elves, but...to summon power so freely, how did they do it? Was there such a wealth awaiting them?

"You use the power of those without form? Of spirits? As one draws from a well?"

The expression that appears on the woman's face gives Sam pause. If the way she was looking at him before made him feel like she could look into his soul, this one made him feel like she wanted to reach in and inspect it closer. Did that make sense? He didn't feel threatened, but he certainly felt cornered in a way.

"Ah... it isn't quite like that." This was getting more complicated. As soon as one question was answered another one came up. "Magic is everywhere, but only certain people are born who can actually use it. We produce it with... our own spirit? That's what makes us able to view and interact with the Fade differently. There are those of us though that can draw additional power from spirits. We call that spirit magic."

Strangely, and by some great coincidence, that was the one type of magic Galadriel knew. She had been given a reasonable explanation of it and, in comparison to all things in Thedas, she understood the workings of it fairly well. With this new information, however, there was a foothold for her. From this point she could learn about this place and, perhaps, determine why her power was so diminished.

Unfortunately, if the expression on his face was any indication, the man before her was struggling to explain. His composure was settled, enough, but the slight wideness in his eyes spoke of worry. He had done her a great service, if only on accident, and there were others she could question if he had grown uneasy with answering.

"I had not known," Galadriel said, as though he hadn't assumed as much. "I have never seen such a thing and I cannot count how often my skills have been called Magic. I think I understand far better now, thank you."

The 'thank you' seems to settle Sam down a bit, glad to hear that he had been of service in some way. The workings of the Fade and everything else was a bit more complicated then how he explained, but apparently he had put it simply enough to help the woman grasp some idea of their world.

There is something that catches his attention though and he cannot help but tilt his head. "Pardon me for asking, but... from how you spoke, you do not have magic where you are from?" It had been subtle, but there had been emphasis in her tone whenever she said the word.

She was silent for several long moments as she considered how to answer him. They were visible on all sides, surrounded by people who radiated unease, and while Galadriel was not overly concerned with incising them, it would not require much. She was not eager to demonstrate her power, not here, but without a demonstration she was left with only words.

"Magic is a word used by men, it has often perplexed me because it encompasses so much," Galadriel began slowly. "My skills are many and my power great, and both are hard to describe in your tongue. I could teach nearly all of what I know to anyone, man or elf. If they had the will to use such things, they would be able, but each skill can seem strange and incomprehensible to mortal men.

"What they call magic is no different to me than any craft, but I am beginning to understand their confusion. When one lacks knowledge and language, magic is the only word that remains."

Galadriel's smile was wan and her gaze drifted to the various armored men who stood in attendance around them. Eventually, they turned back to the human before her.

"I fear I cannot explain further without causing conflict, but my power comes only from within. To expend it is to expend that which sustains me, to spend my strength and my endurance, to bend the world to my will--" She frowned slightly as she considered the term. She had such trouble comprehending what Adelaide told her about Compassion because men parted the idea of mind and spirit. "It is called fëa, what is inside you that is not material form, will and spirit. It is the price of power and the source of...my magic."

He isn't quite sure he understands everything the woman is saying, but he is able to grasp at certain concepts that she provides. From what he can gather her... powers are a part of her as magic is of him, but in a very different way. The best way he could visualize it was that she herself was like Thedas and the Fade. One in the same, but separate. Maybe. It was rather complex.

Sam's gaze turns to look at the onlookers as well, eyeing a few of the guards that seemed intent on watching their every move. "I understand your caution. Thank you for telling me what you can." Turning his head back to face the woman, he smiles lightly.

"There seems like there is much we can learn from each other. Though I'm probably the least experienced to help you through any of it. If by chance you still have questions... there is a group of us that meet in the gardens, trying our magics. I'm sure Lady LeBlanc would have more answers."

"Lady LeBlanc?" she repeated idly. "Yes, I think I shall join you, if not for questions, then to see what else your magics encompass."

Galadriel inclined her head in thanks and stepped back to allow him to move on, if he desired to examine one of the marks of the others. Strangely, no one took up space behind him, though many humans remained waiting to see the marks. The elf felt she had shared enough and, with only a slight draw on her ring, became largely uninteresting to human eyes.

"Be well and I shall look forward to our next meeting, smith. I imagine your works will be quite interesting."

How did she- Sam shakes his head. He could ask her later about how she knew about his work as a smith when he saw her again. Right now wasn't for idle chat, regardless of how much he wanted to. "Samouel." He takes a few steps backwards, smiling slightly. "It's Samouel. I look forward to seeing you at our lessons, mysterious woman from the rift."

With that said Sam ventures off to see where else he is needed.

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We come from the land of the ice and snow

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