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

[extramural]

At times, perhaps. [ He had been so involved in other's lives that it had been like being interacted with. He had appeared before others and watched their reactions, even if he didn't always let them get a word in. He wasn't human, but he still felt -- but what he felt, what he saw, that was something no human could really deal with.

It was an odd position to be in, really. Still, it doesn't change him from a gentle correction, even as he gently lowers himself back to the ground. ]

No humans do, that I know of. [ The implication, of course, being that he is not human. ] But I have been here for several of their months, yes. It has been... an odd experience.

[drazhada]

[ outsider earns a curious glance for his comment, and maia slides one of the books he needs off the shelf he can reach easiest. the others, he'll need a ladder for. tucking it in the crook of his arm, he offers a small, slightly shy smile. ]

We would be grateful to hear what you have to say about your experiences here. We are very new, you see.

[ he hesitates, then beckons the other man--or.. whatever he is--into the little nook he'd been sitting at, setting his book down on the small table stacked with books and notes and a pen and inkwell. ]

Our pardon if the question is impolite, but if you are not human.. what do you call yourself?

[extramural]

They fear what they do not understand, as all mortal beings do.

[ The first lesson, and perhaps the most important. The Outsider's eyes flick away, just for a moment, toward the door to the library. There are others among the shelves, but what he has to say is no less true. If they do not like hearing it, then they can bring it up with him. He is confident that he will, at least, be able to defend himself. ]

There are those here who would consider us demons for falling into this world. There are others who would consider all users of magic as threats that should be always contained, controlled. There are some who want nothing more to survive, to ignore or simply accept what roles the societies of this world have placed them in. In many ways, it is like any other world. In others- [ another pause, a slight incline of his head, ] well, all things have their differences.

[ That is enough to start with, and a lead-in to his answer to the perhaps more immediate question. ]

I am the Outsider. Some umans in my world call me part angel, part devil; others call me a spirit; still others call me a god. I was human, many centuries ago; I am now a part of the Void, a place outside the world of men, where the world began and what will consume it when it ends. I am its- representative, if you will.

[ His smile looks, for a moment, like it is made entirely of too many teeth; like he is something from the deep places, the places where men cannot step, where they do not dare. It is gone in an instant, a somewhat crooked, very slight smile in its place. ]

But I am not human, no matter what I once was.