TEST DRIVE MEME!

[faderifting]

TEST DRIVE: ORLAIS EDITION

I. EVERYBEAR I GO

Believe it or not, there are bears in Orlais, too. Stuffed ones posed in noble salons casting intimidating shadows as lords tell unlikely stories about how they bravely stared the great beast in the eye before they slayed it with a single shot. One comtesse keeps bears as pets in large pens on her estate, much to the distress of her nearest neighbors. But most common are the dancing bear acts found on street corners here and there. Perhaps there is some sort of special bear communication network that has passed on a message, because it seems like the presence of the Inquisition has inspired these bears to finally make a break for it out of servitude, and that is how you find yourself being chased by a bear in a belled hat down a narrow cobbled alley lined with street vendors.

II. OUI OUI MON AMI

The Inquisition's efforts are currently focused on Orlais, where a civil war is raging and intelligence indicates Corypheus seeks to eliminate Empress Celene, while the oppressed elven population's discontent threatens to bubble over into a second rebellion. The Inquisition's activities here are mostly political and designed to gather influence and information: endeavoring to make a good impression at the ball of an influential comtesse with ties to the Council of Heralds, or assisting with the reconstruction of the alienage district destroyed by fire. There are rowdy soldiers in taverns to eavesdrop on, and restless crowds listening to streetcorner speakers preach Celene's virtues, or Gaspard's, or lament the end of the world.

But honestly, who cares about any of that? Halamshiral also offers great high-end shopping. Priorities. Gowns, tunics, fur-trimmed cloaks, sleeves slashed and puffed with layers of bright-colored satin. Tall boots with gold spurs to clink as you walk. Veils, lace-trimmed smallclothes, perfumes, necklaces worth your weight in gold. If you have the coin, the shopkeeps have time for you. The slightest whiff of poverty will leave them cold toward you. They might even pretend not to see you, but hey: they work on commission.

Even among decadence and finery, there are signs of unrest. In an out-of-the-way village square, little Orlesian children gather to throw thick gold coins in a gilt fountain, with whispered wishes and giggles. All at once, a thief pushes his way into their circle, breaking the idyllic scene. He leaps into the fountain and grabs a handful of coin. Thin, dirty, ragged, hollow-eyed and, under the hood of his cloak, elven, he scans the now-screaming children -- and then takes off running.

“Stop him!” howls one precious Orlesian cherub, her rosy cheeks streaked with tears. “That dirty knife-ear took my money!”

Kids are just the cutest.

III. SKYHOLD

Skyhold is where people who don't like fun accents and life being a constant masquerade hang around repairing walls, filling out paperwork, and, on rare occasions, engaging in elaborate, color-coded team snowball fights.

That last occasion? Totally over. Now the Inquisition will see you work, work, work, work, work. Working to save Thedas is not all fun and games, and there are plenty of things to keep you busy in Skyhold. See that roof over there? It has a hole in it. Climb up, someone suggests, and fix it. See that hole over there, in the wall? Some drunk from the tavern fell through it yesterday, and it needs repairs. See that floor over there? It’s dirty. And here’s a mop.

If these tasks seem too menial and demeaning, perhaps you’d like to head up to the library and reshelve some books. Perhaps you’d like to meet a special friend there? The stacks are warm and cozy, and at least a little out of the way. Secret spaces are at a premium. But be careful: you aren’t the only one in Skyhold, no matter how many people shipped out to Orlais.

If warm ovens are more your style than warm books, try the kitchens. They could always use a helping hand - especially because one of the baby griffons has made its way down there. A sharp-beaked competition for your plans to pilfer snacks, but you’ll prevail, right? The griffon loves chicken, and the taste of your blood. Get her outside before she gets too comfortable.

Or just feed the dogs, you dirty Fereldan.

IV. WILDCARD

Thedas is a big place. Do something else in it. Maybe in the Hinterlands.

Comments

[inuko]

Chastise? More like ask for tips on dealing with these bears, since the last one he had to lock in an empty stables to stop it from a mad progress after his hide. Strangely enough, it seemed to calm down once he was out of its line of sight.

What a sad day when the disregard animals seem to feel for him turns into outright aggression. Couldn't it have been a bear in aggressive need of ear scratching?

"Where to?" He asks, snagged and turning on heel to align with the direction Tracer's heading. "Are we keeping this one from going after anyone else, or are we planning on ditching it?"

He has faith with his swordwork should it come down to it, but scrambling up and onto rooftops is the kind of athletic maneuvering he enjoys. Nothing says I'm not a sick invalid quite like rooftop running to avoid inner city traffic congestion.

[timesup]

"Stopping it from hurting others," she explains, tamping down the urge to use her chronal accelerator to blink yards ahead of him. She's not going to leave him in the dust to deal with this alone.

"I'd be fine with ditching it if we were in the woods, see, but we aren't." And Tracer doesn't know that these bears have a crazy blood lust for Inquisition members only. It seems reasonable to assume everyone is in danger.

"Alleys seem a good bet. I've got two pulse bombs left."

[inuko]

The distinction of the bombs means nothing to him, but he gives a nod and a grunt of understanding nonetheless. Bombs? Much easier to understand. Now he has better insight into how she handled the bear earlier.

Likewise ignorant of the Inquisition specific blood-lust the bears across Thedas appeared to experience, he agrees with keeping collateral damage to a minimum. The bear minimum, as it were. "Got one coming up on the left. Around that wagon." A wagon of heavy barrels, partially blocking the entrance. Most the people in this particular street have started pulling back to the sides, staring at the oncoming fury of the bear and the two running away from the animal in question. "Shall we?" He flashes her a grin, tight lipped and as eager to get into action beyond running as he probably shouldn't be.

[timesup]

"You bet!" Tracer smiles and dashes into the alley ahead. Even when not using her ability to blink forward through time, she has a certain zip to her actions, like she's barely fitting into her own skin. Like she's ready to dash out of existence at any second, which is sadly true. Without the glowing blue devices strapped to her chest and back, she wouldn't be able to stay anchored in time. She'd be a ghost, drifting in and out and unable to control it.

So lucky for her she's got it, right? Once in the alley, she blinks forward and then turns around.

"This looks good. You wanna get behind me, I throw the bomb, and we keep running?"

[inuko]

In a way, he's reminded of some of his companions from back home. Living with a bunch of immortals bound to demons produces all sorts of strange abilities, speed being a fairly common one, but none move with this kind of almost frantic energy. It's interesting, just not enough for him to think on as he hits the alley more or less in stride with Tracer, surprised at how she's quite suddenly there and turned around. Ah... what?

"Sounds good to me," he says instead, the confusion leaving his face in favour of a lop-sided grin, moving forward until he's behind her and out of her throwing radius. Knees bent, hand on the hilt of his silent sword, he waited for her actions as the bear thumped against the wagon. A roar of pain and frustration before a barrel is batted down to the stone, thunking and starting to leak. The bear rounds the corner, lumbering closer at a slower run than before, favouring its right shoulder.

[timesup]

It's a bit sad that they have to do this. She doubts the bear wanted to be a street performer and would rather roam free in the woods somewhere. But it's angry, people are soft and squishy, and the two don't mix well. Out comes the bomb and she hurls it at the animal, crying out, "Bombs away!" It's force of habit by now to warn her allies to move back. If she throws it right, the bomb sticks to the enemy and therefore her shouts can't help her target.

The bomb sticks to the bear's back and it lifts a paw to swipe at it, growling and snarling at the foreign object. Tracer moves further away, just in case the bear decides to leave the bomb alone and bring it towards them, but it only has a second anyway, the rapid beeping on the bomb the only clue before it goes off.

[inuko]

Shino would have preferred other options, but he's practical and a realist when not facing his own foibles and inability to stand being alone. Right now? He keeps himself ready to move and watches Tracer lob an unfamiliar object at the bear as it fills the far end of the alley. Interesting looking device, he thinks, even as he watches the bomb cling like a tenacious little burr and ride out the bear's attempts to tear it off.

The bear gives up, focusing instead on the source of its irritation: the two of them. Just as it heaves forward, the countdown hits go, the force of the explosion tearing through the bear and splattering the area with gore and viscera. Or... trying to splatter the area. Somewhat.

Shino had held up an arm to partly cover his head, having kept behind Tracer, but uh. Ow. His ears are ringing something fierce. "You said that was a bomb?" His question comes out way too loud as a consequence of the ringing in his ears. Looking back, he's also thinking maaaaybe they need to get a move on it again. (What horror if someone tries to get them to clean up that bear mess!)