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allthisshitisweird2017-06-24 10:54 pm
faderifting) wrote in allthisshitisweird2017-06-24 10:54 pm
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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!
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!
takes one to know one *fingerguns*
[ It's Kirkwall. Up, as if to seagull shit, is more likely. ]
You are a mage, yes? [ The... stick, and all. Staff. She's never been entirely clear on what makes them so special (on stage, it's all the glitter and feathers). ] Very good, very good indeed, we've a deadline to work upon and I hope you will forgive me to say you are a vast improvement upon that raggedy blonde fellow —
ayyyyyy
u fuckin wot, m8? Except more Starkhaven, and less whatever the Thedas equivalent to a bogan might be.
She frowns at the dark silhouette of Kirkwall's depressing architecture against at bright sky, and looks back to the person instructing her, who she is entirely certain is none whose service she is sworn to. )
I am a Knight Enchanter of the White Spire, ( Because, sure, that place is still functional and still matters. Mmhmm, ) returning to the Inquisition. Other matters demand me, I fear more urgent than the deadline you labour to. Surely there are many in Kirkwall who would be glad to assist.
no subject
[ A small smile. Gracious. Apologetic. Firm, ]
You are quite right, of course, [ Her index finger flips up, as though to raise just this one small point: ] It will be much better with the sword.
[ Everyone loves a good sword. That they love mages with them rather less? Young noblemen, they always get so tiresomely breathy over their weapons. It will hold their eyes far better than a length of wood (jokes to the left, please). ]
You wouldn't happen to have it on you, would you? I am but a humble Director of Visual Record, [ Does that title sound made-up? That's entirely definitely because it is. ] I would loathe to delay you upon the count of history.
oof sorry I accidentally made gmail do collapsing notifs again MISTAKES WERE MADE
because the request is absurd, and the Director of Visual Record (odd title, but she's been away from the Inquisition a while, and they were always odd) is very polite.
Herian had never been especially good at wrangling nobility, and she assumed this person was the third-fourth-fifth born something-something of somewhere longwinded, significant in their relevant insignificance. Still, the wealthy or noble people she knew were either mages or sworn to the Chantry, and while they certainly liked to talk and get their way, usually the reality was they did not have nearly the influence they believed themselves to possess. )
Duty must be set before glorification in the eyes of history. I am sorry, Madam Director; my orders are clear.
( The directions she was given, however, rather less so, and she looks up through the maze of Kirkwall... and realises her problem. ) Which was to the Inquisition?