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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Once more Simon ducked his head with guilt before complying, the mage taking in a slow breath as he sat himself down and leaned back and breathing it out as if he could force himself to relax. It never really worked as well as Simon thought it should, but it helped some.

Tea without sweetener was acceptable, but having shortbread plain was heresy. Simon took the offered bite to eat with a quietly murmured thank you, spreading some of the jam over the top as she pointed out the obvious. Simon wished it wasn't so clear that he was distracted...it was something he was going to have to work on.

"It's true," he said, hesitating over the tea and quietly putting the knife back down. As much as Adelaide reminded him of his previous mentors, it was impossible to miss what all this was. As perfect an example as he'd been of a proper Circle Mage, he'd still been taken aside at any sign of trouble and asked a few polite but pointed questions, trying to sort out the source and if it was something worth notifying the templars of. It happened a lot in the days before Simon finally left, while River's written cry for help was heavy on his mind.

"Have you...have you met my sister, Madam LeBlanc?" he asked after a moment.

As an Enchanter, she'd been a tutor. A confidante. A guide. In the White Spire she had not often needed to take an apprentice aside and ask after their troubles- such things were the concern of the Senior Enchanters, the older mages that had more experience and more advice to offer should there be something weighing upon those in their care. This was...new to her, the checking in. The asking. But without Senior Enchanters- without anyone older, wiser, someone had to make certain no one was being targeted. That no one was pushing themselves too far or sleeping poorly (though she had precious little room to talk in that area).

Simon was diligent, he was patient, he did well with the limited resources they all shared. The Templars did not seem to mind him any more or less than the rest of them- so whatever may preoccupy him? Was something else entirely.

"The young woman that keeps to herself in the far corner of your tent? I've spoken to her once, yes." It'd been...strange.

A very diplomatic answer. Simon's lips thinned as he imagined how that conversation went and the sort of impression River made. He took a moment to have a drink of tea, clearing his throat and picking his words carefully.

"Yes, she...is the reason for a lot of my distraction," he said. Maybe it would be best not to say too much. It wasn't River's fault what had happened, but it didn't sound good either. Any templar who took their duty seriously would assume her an abomination to be safe no matter what Simon did to convince them of the truth. Some mages who still thought highly of the old circles may feel the same.

"...she isn't well," was what he finally decided was safe enough to say while still being true.

"She seemed troubled." Distant- there and not. A bit like the boy Cole now that she thought of it, but without the strange song that spoke to Compassion. Or rather with a different variation on the tune. There was something about her that Adelaide couldn't quite place as off- just to the left of most mages, if she was a mage at all.

"As do you." He was under no obligation to explain but 'not well' could be a wide variety of things. Plagued? Blighted? Possessed? Half mad? Any and all but not one of those seemed to fit the young woman she had met. "Is it a chronic illness?"

"I pray that it isn't," Simon answered more readily, tilting his head and offering a wan smile. "When I'm not needed at the tents I've been working on figuring out what's wrong and from there, how to heal her."

That hopefully explained why Simon seemed so distracted. Every moment spent idle could have been used going over the books he'd taken from the library, trying to find some reference to whatever those people in Tevinter had done. He could be spending the time with River, keeping an eye on her and trying to talk to her about what happened for some other clue... Or at least he could get practice puzzling through the way she spoke now.

"What are her symptoms?" More minds to a problem made for a quicker solution, or at least a greater chance at finding one. Troubled as the girl seemed it might have been a system, the spirit like statements. The introspection that was more spoken than thought, the disjointed meander of her mind- it wasn't like anything she'd seen before in a human.

In a spirit? Certainly. But a human...

"I would like to offer my help, however you need. Whatever I can do? Is at your disposal."

"Mentally she doesn't..." Simon's brow furrowed, head tilting down at his tea for a moment. He hasn't had the time to make any proper observations, but travelling all the way from the Imperium to Ferelden with her gave him a good idea of what was wrong. "She doesn't seem able to focus any more. Something will catch her attention and then she's gone in her own world...and what's there isn't always pleasant for her."

There was more to it, hints of that 'world' River kept slipping into revealing more than just whatever could be find in her imagination. Knowing she was sensitive to magic and able to manipulate the Fade like any mage only made that all the more ominous...but Simon kept the knowledge dangerously close to his chest. It was too close to an unharrowed turned abomination for comfort.

The ease of her offer to help surprised him, even though it really shouldn't have when he thought about it. It was a touching offer, yet Simon still worried that her help would lead to the truth coming out.

"...thank you," he said, looking back up. "Until I can determine what happened to her it's difficult to plan a treatment, but I'm open to advice. Or even just an extra pair of eyes would be a big help..."

"I noticed she seemed to speak- a little like a spirit in that she catches on nuances or variations beyond the conversation that you're actually having. Riding details out in threads that don't tie into anything when you finally catch up with her, if you're able to. I do not think I've seen anything quite like that before." Tranquil said odd things sometimes but- they didn't go quite so far in their wanderings. They couldn't. It was all terribly dreamlike, the conversation with River.

Perhaps she was ill or troubled, or simply struck with something they could not yet understand. Reaching out would be the only recourse.

"I'll see what I can do Compassion noticed a strange note in her, but not one either of us is familiar with. If something comes to mind? We will let you know."

Simon's stomach did an uncomfortable flip at the mention of the word spirit...but she wasn't calling his sister an abomination, so Simon dared to relax again. Still he hesitated to say more, to admit that River didn't always have to be conversing with someone to reveal details about them. While he paused, Adelaide went on, and the mention of Compassion Simon's brow lifted. It only confused him for a moment, but Simon was familiar enough with Spirit Healers to recognize what she was referring to. It had been something he considered training to become, once upon a time.

"Compassion?" he asked all the same, not wanting to presume. "You're a Spirit Healer...?"

"...did I not mention- I apologize. I thought that was well known among the healing tents." Otherwise she wouldn't be able to see so many, heal so well, and take no lyrium. It was not her power that she used. Most of the other mages seemed to be aware of this and she truly had made no real attempt to hide it. Why bother? It kept her from being able to do her work here.

"I am at that. When I am not able to sense entirely the root of someone's illness, on occasion Compassion, the spirit I am partnered with, might."

"No, it's...I have been distracted." To say the least. It was entirely possible that Simon had heard murmurings about it, but with all his current troubles Simon didn't have much of an ear for even the most harmless gossip. "You don't owe any apologies for that.

"Especially since you're offering to help. Thank you."

"Caring for family can be quite distracting." Or at least she would assume so, beyond a few exchanged letters she hasn't had to worry after her own for some time. "You are welcome, Simon. Remember that you must take care of yourself just as much as you do your sister. Without you, she has very little."

"I know..." he said, voice a quiet murmur. When their parents tried to sweep the matter under a rug rather than help their children, it was very clear that Simon was the only one his sister was going to be able to rely on. He needed to be careful for her sake if nothing else.

It was good advice, but the odds of Simon taking it the way she intended was sadly low. Something that probably wasn't a surprise to either of them at this point. Especially when the first thought Simon had after nodding in dutiful agreement was that he really ought to get back to his tent to take in another patient. He lifted the mug to his lips, taking a deeper drink of tea to finish what he could before setting it down.

"I'll rest tonight, after all the injured have been seen to," he said. "Thank you again for the break."

"You will tend to them for an hour more but no longer. The worst of them have come through our hands already- anything more can wait until morning. Working yourself to the bone will help no one." She said, having spent the bulk of the day in her tend tending to the worst of it. But it did not wear upon her quite as much as it did the other mages; it was not her own power she used to heal.

It was something she could take to ease their burden and to satisfy Compassion.

"You'll be taking at least one a day with me so long as we're both in Skyhold. Most of the others know to take their rest when they can but you, much like myself, seem to need a reminder. It will also give us time to discuss any changes we note in river- or anything we might have heard or read that could be of use, yes?" She won't accept anything but yes as an answer- and she was fairly certain that Simon would be happy to agree.

It wasn't that he didn't expect to be told to take it easy, but the manner of the command certainly surprised him. Simon's brow lifted, his movements appearing guilty as he leaned away from the low table and mug even if he had nothing to be guilty of. It was certainly true that he had his limits and was in very real danger of hitting them if he pushed himself too hard. Though like Adelaide, he had other reserves to call on if he wished.

The difference for him was that revealing that capacity, let alone using it, was tantamount to suicide.

"Yes," he answered after only a moment for the certainty of it all to sink in. There was no arguing with her tone, though Simon couldn't say he wanted to. The mere offer of having someone to talk about River's condition with was all the incentive Simon needed to obey...and the way things were going, he could easily see himself trusting Adelaide with more than vague descriptions of what was wrong.

"...when would be a good time, do you think?" he asked mildly.

"Midafternoon." She took her tea with Bruce in the evening, at the end of a long day when she knew full well he hadn't taken a break since lunch. At least when he did remember to break to eat. It would be time enough for them to all see plenty of work done and patients treated, without leaving them to work themselves into exhaustion.

Simon tilted his head slightly and nodded, lips thinned between his teeth.

"Then I'll see you that time tomorrow," he said, letting out a soft breath and pushing back up to his feet. The movement turned into an almost bow, more an incline of the head...and if she didn't have anything more for him, he would take his leave to get that final hour started.

Of course, he'd probably stretch it into restocking his tent and spending time with River, but that didn't count as work in his opinion.

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We come from the land of the ice and snow

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