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

[cloudgazer]

At Korrin's voice, Romola turns--and startles like a spooked deer before she seems to come back to her senses, though her wide eyes remain fixed on the horns protruding through Korrin's hair. Immediately, she flushes red hot from embarrassment--of course there are Qunari who serve with the Inquisition. Of course the woman before her is Qunari.

"A leg-shard? That's new..."

"Ah--yes," she stammers, awkwardly struggling to recover from what she is sure will be perceived as a slight, and rightfully so. Who wouldn't be insulted by such a reception to simple, polite conversation? She brings up a hand to cover her mouth, her mind scrambling to find the right words to offer in the trade tongue, rather than Orlesian. "I'm sorry," she begins again, and figures an apology is as good a place as any to start.

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin herself would rarely call her mannerisms 'polite'; not intentionally rude, either, but her unapologetic frankness doesn't always endear her to people. That particular reaction is less and less common as time goes on and Kirkwall adjusts to her presence, but Korrin doesn't seem fazed in the least. She just shrugs, waving off the apology.

"Eh, no harm done as long as you're not shrieking bloody murder or using slurs. I can handle a little staring, trust me. Happens all the time." She smiles to show there's no hard feelings. "Never seen one of my kind before or just not up close?"

[cloudgazer]

Romola is clearly listening to Korrin, but there's a frown of consternation creasing her brow the more she goes on, and once she's finished speaking, the dwarf is silent for a time, not offering up a response. For a moment her jaw works, her thoughts rushing behind her eyes, like she's trying to hastily translate what she's just heard in order to conjure up the right response. The idiom seems to have thrown her.

Then she pulls on another quick smile; she looks earnest, sincere. "Never seen," she says, a little hesitatingly. She speaks with an accent that sounds like it could be Orlesian, but it's a bit strange. After a moment, as if recalling that Korrin had spoken about her shard, she looks down at it and self-consciously drops a hand to cover the glow.

[gatheringstorm]

The frown is noted, as is the accent, and Korrin realizes she's dealing with someone not quite fluent. Her responding smile is a little apologetic, and when she speaks up again, it's in Orlesian. Orlesian with a strong Marcher accent, but conversational Orlesian nonetheless.

"It's alright. There aren't that many of us in the south, mercenaries mostly. I don't expect everyone to be familiar, just hopefully non-hostile. The Inquisition's here on common purpose." She notices the attempt to cover that glow and keeps her gaze from it, though her bluntness surfaces again, not unkindly. "Is it new? If it hurts, the healers at the Gallows should be able to help you. Otherwise, it will fade after a while. At least, that's what the shardbearers themselves tell me."

[cloudgazer]

The relief that washes over Romola's face as Korrin switches to Orlesian is easy to spot, and her somewhat diffident smile grows more confident. She relaxes; though quite small, she nevertheless seems to draw herself up with more confidence.

"I'm still sorry, for my reaction," she says, contrition in her eyes, which now look to Korrin's horns with rather more admiration than fear, now that her initial shock at the sight of them has passed. She folds her hands in front of herself, cautiously stymying the instinct to hide the shard from view now that she's confident Korrin won't make a big deal out of it. "I confess I... don't know much at all of your people, though I do know a bit of what it's like to be the strange one amid many humans." There were few dwarves in Serault, and fewer still in the Glassworks. She and her family were an anomaly.

"Is it new? If it hurts, the healers at the Gallows should be able to help you. Otherwise, it will fade after a while. At least, that's what the shardbearers themselves tell me."

She shrugs one thin shoulder, her gaze gone distant for a moment. "The pain, it--comes and goes," she replies and lets her words taper off softly. "Your healers have been very kind."

[gatheringstorm]

Usually when Korrin bothers to speak Orlesian, it's to wipe off the smirk from some noble's face when they realize she's understood their insults and slights the entire time. It's a refreshing change to use her linguistic skills for a more benign reason. She nods agreeably to the apology, more than willing to put it behind them. Grudges are reserved for the unrepentant assholes, not those slipping up due to lack of exposure. If she held a grudge at every such moment, there would never be time or energy for anything else.

"Good, I'd hope for nothing less. We don't know nearly enough about said shards as we should, but we're still trying our damnedest to catch up. Whether you're here to work for the Inquisition or not, that still holds true."

There's a soft chuckle as a wry smile forms, in response to being the odd ones out. "It's a pain in the ass, isn't it? I thought I was used to that, but it's one thing to move around with a mercenary company. If things got too tense, we could leave at a moment's notice, no problem. Now, I have to be mindful of what we do and say because I plan to see this cause through to the end. That can't happen if I let bigoted assholes get to me."