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

the square

[solveiginvictus]

The Orlesian man, naturally, takes offense and steps towards Eliot and the ladies, puffing up his chest in indignation. With all of his attention on Eliot (not to mention the terrible peripheral vision in those masks), he steps right into a passerby. Unluckily for him, that passerby is a well armored, fiery eyed Avvar woman who stands about two inches taller than the Orlesian. The impact of being run into barely seems to faze her, but he gets a disapproving glare as he goes tumbling backwards.

"Klaufalegur heimskingi," She mutters, rolling her eyes as the Orlesian man Eliot had been teasing skitters away from her fearfully, "Hallo, I'm trying to find the bears... The bears-why are you running away?"

She's sighs exasperatedly as the Orlesian let's out a squeak and takes off into the crowd. She's just trying to find the performing bears she's heard about.

[thegreatestproject]

...well, shit. Eliot had meant for the jab to be for the ladies' not-so-delicate ears only. When the masked man starts striding toward them, some of the sharp light goes out of Eliot's eyes, the smile almost freezing on his face... and then the man collides with some Thedosian equivalent of an Amazon.

The women titter as the man scurries away, apparently fascinated by the Avaar's appearance. But it's Eliot that speaks up.

"And here I thought I was about to be challenged to my first duel," he says, playfully disappointed. "But I did hear something about bears performing by the docks."

He gives the Avaar woman an appraisal. There's more kindness in it than the one he'd given the man.

"We won't lack for entertainment after all."

[solveiginvictus]

She pauses to look Eliot over and comes to the conclusion that either man would have had the chance to win, so she says nothing.

Upon hearing about the bears though, the hypothetical duel is forgotten.

"Bears performing," She growls. Bears shouldn't be performing, bears should be free, respected. She wanted to help them. They were favored by the Mountain-Father because of their strength. These Orlesians were clamoring for their own demise by trying to tame them. And now that she'd been made aware of the situation, she couldn't sit idly by either, or she'd be just as guilty in the eyes of the Gods. She was sure of that.

She tilts her head, taking a moment to figure out which way the ocean, and thus the docks, were. Seagulls and a steady sea breeze save her from having to ask for directions and she starts off towards the docks.

[thegreatestproject]

Eliot starts to invite the Orlesian women to the docks, but when one of them starts making noises about another engagement, the other follows suit. Eliot can read between the lines well enough: being seen in the company of a rifter is one thing, but walking arm-in-arm with one — as they would no doubt have to — is too dangerous for their reputation. He remains gracious in his farewells, and the two women take off in one direction just as the not-Amazon is taking off in the other.

Well. He has no intention of being a loiterer. Eliot follows after the Avaar, walking not so much with her as walking at the same time, in the same direction.

"You were on the caravan from Skyhold." Which explains how someone as incongruous as her got to this city. What it doesn't explain is why.