TEST DRIVE MEME!

[faderifting]

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!

Comments

[fireandsmoke]

"That's not a problem." A small, catlike grin pulls up the corner of his mouth despite himself. "It's the witlings I don't want to slog through."

Glib, Sarkan is apt to handle easily, particularly when it's paired with a smart individual. Much easier to speak with someone on equal, loose terms than it is to talk down to impossible idiots who think they possess more wit than they have.

"Well, finish your research and send me to him. I will wait."

It occurs to him that they have not even exchanged names. He fails to care.

[youwonscience]

She shrugs. "Okay. No guarantees he's free right now, but when I finish this I can show you the most likely places to find him." She's flipping through the index, comparing it against some notes. As she does, she says, "How long have you been here?"

Though it's friendly enough, it sounds more like she'd specifically like to know than small talk.

[fireandsmoke]

Sarkan feels compelled to laugh at that question, more self-deprecating and at the expense of his own twisted fortunes than anything to do with the woman.

"Maybe a week. Maybe less. Maybe a little more. I've lost track of the hours," he admits. Considering he spent most of his time awake and searching for more information as much as he could, it is no wonder he can't be certain how much time has passed. His lack of sleep and slowly draining energy is sure to catch up with him shortly, but for now, there is just too much to take in and too much to consider to slow down.

[youwonscience]

"Ah, library haze. I'm familiar. It took me a month or so to be totally sure I wasn't having an extended hallucination." She supposes you can never really be sure, but she's decided to proceed as if it's all real. She doesn't see another sensible option.

"It's a lot to adjust to. My world didn't have magic in it at all, to my knowledge, so that's been a bit of a learning curve."

[fireandsmoke]

"Your wizards might be discreet where you come from."

No magic at all? That is difficult for Sarkan to believe. Sounds like a barren place. But as unfathomable as he originally found it, he has heard of faraway nations that take less kindly to magic than his, most recently from another witch he met in the Gallows. Madame Petrana de Cedoux is what she called herself.

"This realm is more like a different nation than a different world, though I have come to admit that it isn't any nation I know in my lands." A pause. "Magic works differently, but still manageable. It doesn't make me any less capable of offering my strengths."

[youwonscience]

"Maybe." Hermione had opened the possibility that magic exists in Cosima's world, just underground; Cosima won't naysay it, but a world in which magic is totally hidden is functionally similar to a world without magic at all, in her experience.

"But hey, if you're already a mage or something like it, you'll have a leg up. At least people will understand what it is you do, which is more than I can say, like, 95% of the time."

[fireandsmoke]

"That's most certainly an invitation that I ask what it is you do, since it is not magic," Sarkan points out with a slow, wry grin. He cups his chin with a long, lean hand and can't help but look like a smug, slightly arrogant, somewhat mocking cat. "Unless you think it beyond my feeble understanding. If you're not convinced that I'm no imbecile by now, though, by all means, test me."

[youwonscience]

She smiles, wry, despite herself. "It doesn't have anything to do with someone being stupid. It has to do with context. If I had months, I could teach most of the people here the theory behind my research, even if I don't have the tools to practice it."

She sits back, though, giving up on the book for the moment. "At its most basic level, I study how the development of living things suggests information about how their ancestors evolved over time. Mostly in humans, though I have colleagues who focus on other organisms. There are a lot of traits that are inborn, lots that aren't, and lots more that are a blend of nature and environment. I'm trying to tease out which are which and how they work."

[fireandsmoke]

Huh. Sarkan could imagine lots of ways such a field of study could be useful, but he has to admit he does not know of anyone who currently studies ancestral inheritances in Polnya. Though there are bigger problems currently plaguing his nation than studying the nature of inborn human traits; the problem of a decimated royal family, for instance, and a vacant throne.

"That certainly isn't my area of expertise, but I can consider its usefulness. Identifying babes with innate magic before they start accidentally setting villages ablaze, for one."

He now gazes upon this woman with something resembling begrudging respect, which he does not hand out lightly. But this woman clearly has her head screwed on nice and snug to her body, and she seems to carry on some useful intellectual undertakings. This is a good connection for Sarkan to make.

"What's your name?"

[youwonscience]

She smiles a little, almost despite herself. "Cosima Niehaus. Formerly of a place called California, Thedas refugee for about a year by the local calendar."

[fireandsmoke]

He stares at her blankly. No recognition for the name of that place, Cally-fornya (does this involve fornication??), and he knits his brow with the smallest of frowns.

"The Dragon of Polnya," is his own simple introduction with a flourish of his palm. He says it with the distinct impression that it is meant to sound important. Likely, he was important, in his previous life. "Here a week, give or take, by my count." He lays his hand back on the table.

"I'll expect to work more with you in the coming days."