allthisshitisweird | TEST DRIVE MEME!

TEST DRIVE MEME

Maybe you’ve been around for a while, or maybe you’re new to the Inquisition. Maybe you’re new to Thedas, having recently fallen from a tear in reality and been collected by uniformed rescuers. Whoever you are, you’ve been sent to Kirkwall, to an outpost where many of the Inquisition’s members and allies work on some of the biggest mysteries and problems the organization must solve if it’d like to keep the world from ending, where “ending” means “falling under the power of an ancient powerful corrupted being who wants everyone to bow to him as a god.”

And just to be clear, it would like that. It would like that a lot.

I. THE GALLOWS: The Gallows is an island fortress in Kirkwall’s harbor. It’s been home to, in order: Tevinter slaves, a Circle of Magi, a lot of creepy red lyrium, and now the Inquisition, which has occupied the fortress with the provisional Viscount’s blessing. There are walls that still need rebuilding and corners that still need dusting, but for the most part the Inquisition has gotten down to business. There’s space in the stone-floored courtyards to train or spar; or, if your skills don’t lie in the realm of hitting things, there’s a large library and several offices supporting the Inquisition’s areas of research and diplomatic efforts. If you don’t know what to do with yourself, then by all means, ask; someone will definitely be able to put you to work.

II. KIRKWALL: A quick row across the harbor will take you to Kirkwall proper. The city is built into the cliffs, from exclusive and wealthy Hightown at the top to impoverished Darktown in the abandoned mining tunnels below. In the middle is Lowtown, home to taverns, merchants, and plenty of trouble to keep anyone looking for it happy. You’re welcome to spend your free time and your money here—but try not to annoy the locals too much, please, in case their welcome runs out. It’d be a shame to have to pack again so soon after arriving.

III. QUESTING: Barely had time to make yourself at home, did you, before you were sent away from Kirkwall again—but this time on a mission. There’s a rift outside of Markham, pouring demons into the fields, and the Inquisition has been asked to lend a hand. Maybe literally. If you have an anchor embedded in your palm, you’re needed to close the damn thing. If not, maybe you’re here to fight demons or guard against bandits on the road, or to gather samples and take notes on the rift’s location once its closed, or to speak to Markham’s nobility afterwards to make sure that they fully appreciate the Inquisition’s efforts. Regardless, it’s a long trip, so we hope you like campfire cooking and sharing a tent.

IV. SENDING CRYSTAL: Joining the Inquisition gets you access to the very latest in barely-understood magical communication devices—namely, a crystal, small enough to wear around your neck, that will allow you to communicate verbally with anyone else who has one. Or everyone else who has one. Say hello.

V. WILDCARD: The whole of Thedas is yours to explore, from coast to uncharted wilderness. Choose your own adventure!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

While the daytime sun bakes the wind-worn sandstone of the Lowtown hexes, the evening brings with it such an abrupt and fearsome cool-down that Kit ends up shivering beneath the layers of his armor. It's his own damn fault he literally missed the boat out of the city tonight. Sucks to be him.

The tattoos that sprawl across his face like inky prison bars make his sullen scowl look a lot more menacing than it is, and he's directing that scowl right at the wooden door to Lowtown's only decent tavern--right as it's yanked open to reveal the large frame of a woman Qunari filling the entirety of the frame. He cranes his neck up... and up... to look at her face. ...Yeah, she means business.

"Uh. Thanks." He doffs an invisible cap at her, shoots a rueful smirk at the squawking ruffian in her grip, and edges past her into the stink of the taproom.

"No problem." And with that, she unceremoniously drops her 'friend outside the threshold, prompting a groan as he hits the ground. "Now get lost. Don't let me see you back in here tonight."

Slamming the door shut, Korrin shakes her head as she heads back to the bar. "There's always one idiot who thinks that just because this isn't my main job that I'll half-ass it if they act up...." At least it usually just takes the one, though. The rest seem to settle down once they have an example of a patron being forcibly parted from their drink.

With the activity in the doorway now mostly over with, most of the tavern's occupants quit their rubber-necking and return to their drinks, games, and mostly harmless drunken shenanigans. A few give Kit a lingering look, intrigued by the tattoos on his face, but he's not interesting enough to most to compete with the allure of their drinks.

"Seems like you could make a real living out of keeping the rabble in check," he says and follows the towering Qunari woman towards the bar. "What's your day job like? I'm Kit, by the way," he adds belatedly.

"Korrin." She pauses to raise her tankard for a refill, then flashes a smile. "I'm part of the Valo-Kas company; these days, that means working for the Inquisition. This is just to pass the time in between missions, and snag some free booze. The battlefield's more fun, but this wouldn't be the worst way to retire." Maybe when the world isn't completely going to shit, that will be a possibility. For now, though, it's more an idle thought than anything else.

"...Legion, huh? We don't usually see you guys on the surface."

Dryly, Kit replies, "Yeah, we don't get out much." Beyond that, he doesn't delve into the subject of the Legion. He can't hide the tattoos, and he's yet to find a smith capable of forging armor of better make than the set that was made for him upon his initiation. He sticks out, no point in denying it... but for his own reasons, he takes some pains to avoid discussing it.

He hoists himself up onto one of the empty stools next to Korrin with surprisingly little difficulty, given his stature, then pats his pockets for coins. "I've heard of Valo-Kas company," he says, and trades the barkeep a few coppers in exchange for a tankard of sour ale. He sniffs it, not too put off by the stench, then swallows down a gulp. "You all were at the Conclave, weren't you?"

Korrin will go with it rather than prod about the topic he'd clearly rather avoid, so she nods after taking a swig. "Not all of us, but a good number, yeah. I wasn't, which is why I'm still alive. I was nearby, though, joined up on the spot and been a part of this crap ever since." That's closing in on...two years ago? Maker, time flies. "You looking to join up?"

"I don't know how much use I'd be to you tall fellows," he replies, smiling lopsidedly. "Best I can do is probably kneecap your enemies." Though that could be an effective strategy, come to think of it. He scratches his chin, considering.

"Honestly, friend," he admits after a moment, "I'm not sure how well I'd fit in with your Inquisition." That is, however, not a no.

She smirks at the jest, then looks thoughtful. "You go low, I go high? I'd take it. Maybe we could even get someone to flip, that way." She'd always wanted to make that happen, and probably could with some teamwork.

"Tell that to the gaggle of Dalish that joined us, or Avvar folk, or rogue Grey Wardens, or former Antivan Crows. Point is, there's a lot of people who wouldn't 'fit in', if you go by Chantry standards. But it's not about fitting in, it's about getting shit done. Those are the kind of people we need, whatever their background. We've come a long way, but we still have more to go."

"You think the Inquisition could be doing better?" he asks. It's a leading question, one intended to slightly divert the topic away from his recruitment--at least for now. Briefly, he tips his mug forward to inspect how much ale he's got left, then looks back at Korrin.

That's met with a shrug, after taking a slow slip. "Well, the whole point is to stop the asshole who blew up the Conclave and restore order. We can pretend otherwise all we like, but anything we do on the latter end is only window dressing until we get to the root of the problem. That's not to say we haven't made strides, just that he's not making it easy for us. I hope that means it'll be all the more satisfying when we actually do catch up to him."

TEST DRIVE MEME!

Re: V. The Hanged Man

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