faderift | 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

The strangeness she usually feels around Cole isn't quite as present here, otherwise she'd be less surprised by the commentary. Her fears and thoughts about templars laid out so neatly, even if she's not too quiet about them when asked.

The line is short, other healers are working. She has a moment.

Lips pressed thin, moving slow as to not startle Adelaide crouches down to be on the girl's level. "Do they bother you? The templars?"

The don't have a history for dealing with the strange all that well.

They don't, at that. She'd never been in the Circle, but they'd encountered some along the road to Skyhold. She remembers them, bearing down, seeing monsters in the skin of men. Their fear boiled in their blood, hotter, burning, until she could feel the flame and coax it out...

"Not anymore."

The words taste of ash, and her voice is flat when she fixes on Adelaide's face, studying the lines in her face. The wear of the world etched into the corners of her eyes and mouth.

"If you've a trick for keeping them at a respectable distance, I think most of us would like to hear it." Whether they'd had experiences like hers or no true trouble with the templars at all every mage seemed to feel the distinct lack of breathing room they were being given. Some couldn't blame the templars. Adelaide was not of that camp. So long as they kept to their side of the hold? She could manage.

With how they continued to wander and press about? A way to remain unbothered would be something of a blessing.

She considers telling her, for a moment, but the thought scatters before she can collect it again. Her fingers curl gently into her palms and then out again, her brow knotting slightly as she stares.

"They always come. It's in their blood, washing out all we are, filling the hollow cracks that were left. It's the wrong shape..."

No. That's not quite right, and she frowns, shaking her head.

"No. That's wrong, too."

Troubled doesn't seem to begin to describe this young girl- statements so vague and strange feel more at home in a Fade dream rather than waking conversation. But she is trying to explain something and it seems important, that much is worth sorting out.

"Phylacterys." Those for the White Spire had been destroyed but not all mages were quite so fortunate. "And self righteousness, I suppose."

Maker knows they have both in spades.

"The songs."

Her brow wrinkles as she tips her head back, eyes drifting towards the canvas roof of the tent. "When everything shifts, they push it back again, they don't like it when it changes. The song gets louder, but it wasn't meant to sit inside them. Too loud and everything else fades away..."

Her fingers rub against her arms as she sinks back further.

"They can't hear us, then. Some never do."

"The...songs?" That- she doesn't quite know how to interpret that. Spirits sing to her, it was how she interpreted their voices. But Templars did not hear spirits or magic, sensed it in their own way...or, was that wrong? The more she kneels with this girl the more confused she becomes.

"Where was it meant to sit- if not in Templars?"

"They were older. Bigger. Deeper..."

She trailed off after a moment, clearly confused by where the train of thought is leading. It's all too much to make sense of, especially given piecemeal and fragmented. But she wants to know, too.

Finally she frowns, nose wrinkling.

"They weren't meant for this, but they think they are. They're always so angry."

"Who are 'they'?" None of this made sense, songs were for spirits, for magic, not for Templars that dispelled it and kept demons from mages when they were able. That they were angry Adelaide had no doubt but- it seemed as though there was a third party at play here.

Or perhaps the girl was delusional.

She wouldn't know for certain until she heard more.

"Not us. It's always them. They. Two sides of a coin, but the metal's bitter on the tongue."

Her fingers shifted, rolling over her palms as though searching for the feeling, but there was nothing. What she saw and heard sometimes only had form in her mind, and then there was no chance at all of getting anyone to understand. She didn't understand, not entirely, all she could do was see.

Frustrated, she let her head lower, one hand reaching to rub against her temple.

"It wasn't the question. You were angry at them, and I thought..."

"...Ah." Angry at the templars, and she'd- picked up on that? Her reputation and bias was fairly well known but not many are quite so aware of the root of the anger. The fear. The bitter pang of betrayal. Understanding the whys of it-

She'd tried, awhile ago. To rationalize. It hadn't helped.

"Until things change I suspect we will all be angry for a long while." Adelaide extends a hand, eyes soft. Concerned.

"It hurts."

She swallowed, shook her head, lowered her hand and tried to sit upright again. No, push it back. It's not hers, she doesn't have to carry it.

It's then she notices the offered hand, uncertainty flickering there briefly. "...too many pieces went missing," she murmurs after a moment, gaze lifting to meet Adelaide's eyes. "They won't fit together unless something fills the space left behind. You don't want that. No one wants that."

"Then perhaps it is better if they do not fit again?" There was too much here she uncertain of, too much she did not know, and too much this girl did not, could not tell her. "Why do you not come with me, petite? I've some warm tea in my tent and we can wait for your brother."

She had a brother here, didn't she? Adelaide thought she'd seen someone that resembled her somewhere.

He was here, and often, using his magic to heal the hurt as best he could. It was his way, trying to mend things, frustrated when they were beyond his ability.

She knew it was hard for him to see her like this. If she stayed out of the way...

But she takes the woman's hand, after a moment's hesitation and a quiet little nod. She'd be afraid if she knew, but she didn't. Some secrets were meant to be kept a while longer.

We come from the land of the ice and snow

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject