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Fade Rift Mods ([personal profile] faderifting) wrote in [community profile] allthisshitisweird2016-07-22 05:47 am
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TEST DRIVE MEME!

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.
wilderwood: (g)

aden of gwaren • native ranger/bandit oc

[personal profile] wilderwood 2016-08-31 10:20 am (UTC)(link)
1. this is a bear-y serious matter

One of few good things about Orlais is Orlesian wine, a fact that Aden will happily acknowledge without needing any kind of payment to say so. Whatever his mission in Val Royeaux was supposed to be (he's forgotten it already, the piece of parchment it was written on is long gone) Aden is certain he can carry it out from inside a tavern.

When the word 'bear' is mentioned - a growing murmur of panic at one end of the street that turns in to shrieks of warning the closer the bear rampages towards the tavern - Aden's ears prick up in interest. A bear! What a fine opportunity to show these pampered, perfumed locals a thing or two about Ferelden fortitude.

Bears are, after all, Aden's favourite.

Grinning smugly at the frantic Orlesian crowd, Aden pushes away from the bar and steps out in to the street, wine goblet still in one hand.

"Stand back!" He announces grandly, bequeathing his wine to an onlooker as they scuttle out of the way of the bear's trajectory.

"I'm an expert."

[ ooc note: this thread will end up with the bear eventually being wrestled in to submission but Aden isn't the expert he thinks he is. Apparently he doesn't speak Bearlesian, just Bearelden. ]

2. post-bear, less smug

An hour later and with twenty or so fresh bear-related cuts and bruises to his name, Aden staggers in to the square. Well-heeled and finely tailored Orlesians part in a wave of unimpressed murmurs as he stumbles towards the fountain. Flecks of blood from the worst of the wounds - a sharp scratch over his temple that disappears in to the tousled mess of his hairline - leaves the odd fleck of blood in a trail across the gleaming paving stones as he goes.

He throws himself heavily on to the fountain's rim, just in time to hear the little girl's shriek of dismay. Aden pulls a face.

"Oh, get away with you, go on," He hisses at the children, sounding far more fierce than he has any energy to be. A half-hearted kick is aimed at the nearest child - it falls short of ever being close enough to connect with any of them but pointed enough to give the right impression: an angry, hairy man with blood on his face and a strong boot. The children scatter with a squeal, trailing ribbons and shrieking for their mamas as they disappear.

Wearily, Aden plunges a black-nailed and bruised hand in to the crystal clear fountain waters and scoops a handful against his face. Dark red rivulets of blood trickle and drip in to the fountain below, eddying in iron-brown swirls before dissipating in to nothingness in the sparkling waters. The pain across his temple is sharp and fresh - eye-wateringly so - but it's not the reason for the heavy scowl on Aden's weather-beaten face: he has no idea where his wine has gone.
eviscerates: (pic#9510828)

2

[personal profile] eviscerates 2016-08-31 11:05 am (UTC)(link)
"That was one hell of a show," comes a voice from not too far away, standing with her hands behind her back, looking at him with her head just slightly cocked to the side. "I'd give it a six out of ten. You lost points for that weird child scaring thing at the end."

But she isn't here solely to be a smartass, or even partially one - there is a wryness to her tone, rather than mockery, and she steps forward. One of the hands behind her back swings forward, presenting him with a rather battered wineskin.

"Sorry. Fresh outta goblets." To a wolf's nose, though, the scent of wine is an easily detected one.
wilderwood: (c)

[personal profile] wilderwood 2016-08-31 02:53 pm (UTC)(link)
"Six, says you! Is that all?"

Aden is nothing short of outraged at the verdict, giving Ruby a scandalised look  as he continues to scrub the already drying blood from his face with another fistful of fountain water.

"You saw the bit where it tore the boot right off my damn foot, yes?" He continues archly, indicating the damp and battered leather of his left boot. "That's got to be worth at least an extra half point..."

But all of Aden's indignant protests die on his lips as he realises what prize it is he's being presented with. His expression transforms in to blissful, beatific serenity as he gratefully takes the skin with both hands, cradling it against his chest.

"This is what I get for six points?" He asks with a toothy grin, his melodrama entirely reversed in the space of a mere second. "I reckon I need to find another bear."