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

[limier]

"Enough to hang by?"

Evidently, someone finds them both more useful than that. More’s the pity. It’s tough to sound dry when you’re rapidly sweating your way through plate armor, but she tries.

( Oh my god how she tries. In this institution. )

Peculiar, to walk armed through a library once more; peculiar, only in that should be at all. It’s been a while. She can’t think it does much for anyone’s morale, to lead them through in chains.

"Consider it a compliment that they think you so capable," A short gesture to Atticus’ companion. One of you, at least. "If you would prefer silence, of course, the Gallows do not lack. Solitude does wonders for the soul."

[minrathousian]

"Enough to hang by?"

Her threat to Benedict doesn't seem to touch him at all. He gives the young man a brief look, then turns his attention back to Wren.

"Well I defer to your expertise in that regard, Madam Templar," he replies, and gives her a smile like glass; clear and emotionless. He doesn't look offended, or rattled, or even smug; it's possible he knows he's only untouchable for now, at least by her. Atticus lifts up the shackles and holds them close to his throat, pressing the chain against his skin. "What do you think?"

[altusimperius]

Benedict is a spoiled brat, but he's not an idiot. Southern Templars have a reputation, and he's not about to go out of his way to irritate one, though that doesn't mean he has to be friendly to her either. As best he can, he folds his arms and sulks, looking between Atticus and Wren as he hopes for the former to verbally tear the latter to shreds.

[limier]

"Ser," She corrects, almost upon reflex —

Something crawls up her spine at his smile, snaking its way on so many spindly legs, a grotesque little centipede of memory. Of impulse: Give me a reason.

How fruitless it ever is to rise to bait. How bloody tempting. But distaste cannot be indulged, it won't do anything here. The Inquisition needs intelligence. It needs research, and influence, and the appearance of small victories. It cannot afford to insist someone else do it, like a child shirking an unpleasant chore.

"I've faith in Northern ingenuity," The colour suits you, but might it not be brought in a size? "If you require books, they will be brought,"

(By someone not politely banned from fetching her own,)

"Paper, ink. If you've questions, best to have out with them now." If most of her attention remains on Atticus, Benedict is at least spared a moment's stare. It doesn't pay to underestimate the Imperium, however... itself. "I cannot say how chatty my relief shall be."

If they are, they damn well better know what they're doing. Bad enough they've two enemy combatants in the middle of their research hub, that any small slip with these might invite five years of slow rot upon them all.

The Gallows is not in Venatori hands. Not now. But how quickly vermin find the cracks.

[minrathousian]

How fruitless it ever is to rise to bait. How bloody tempting. But distaste cannot be indulged, it won't do anything here.

Yet it was satisfying to see her brought so close to doing so anyway. Atticus's smile widens an unsettling fraction.

"The books I most require you will no doubt be unable to fetch for me, as they will never be allowed beyond Tevinter's borders." Slowly, he lifts his hands so that Wren can see what he intends to do--not to escape his binds, but to pick up a quill and sheet of parchment from the rudimentary work table set in front of them. He dips it in the inkwell, then takes some time to write down a number of titles, pausing occasionally as though to wrack his brain for additional information.

Eventually, he straightens up and walks as far as the chains will allow him, to offer the list out to Wren. "For now, this should do the trick."

[altusimperius]

"I want to send a letter," Benedict cuts in, still in full-sulk, but as long as demands are being received, "I've already written it. I want it sent. To my family." Who will, Maker willing, pay whatever pithy ransom the Inquisition demands and have him transported safely back to Minrathous, with or without Atticus.

[limier]

"Do you," To Benedict, still watching his companion's hands, "Have out with it and I will see what I can do."

Probably jack-shit. But she wouldn't mind laying eyes on the thing before passing it off to whichever agent of the advisors will handle officially ignoring the request. In all likelihood, this won't be the last time that she's asked to one of these shifts; better by far if there's some understanding of those she need watch.

She takes the list, a cursory scan of titles. Passing recognition of a few, but if she's read none, neither do they look to be anything terribly controversial —

(As though there's much point to monitoring that. Any knowledge a Magister might carry with them is more dangerous than what the Inquisition's library may supply.)

"There is a saying, yes?" She signals a passing librarian, who shoots her and the prisoners almost equally dirty looks as the list's handed off, "When we do not get what we want, we often gain what we need. I've faith your researches will find a way,"

Else enjoy a bit of slack.

"Please, do not let me tarry you." She lifts her brows faintly to the workspace.

(ooc: prob the last tag from me in this particular thread)

[minrathousian]

He holds onto the list just a moment longer when she reaches out to take it, and tries to catch her eye again. "My thanks," he says softly, then lets go of the list.

Without another word of protest, he returns to the work table and methodically begins the process of assessing what books are currently at his disposal, and what tedious research he can complete for the Inquisition until more materials arrive. Whether Benedict forks over his letter or not is beyond the purview of things Atticus cares about. He places a pair of spectacles low on the bridge of his nose and gets to work.

[altusimperius]

From beneath their research materials Benedict quickly withdraws a letter, folded in half and already addressed in his frilly handwriting.
"See that it goes quickly," he says, with an air of demand, "they'll see that this is taken care of."