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

Yay, affection! Garahel wiggles happily at all the pets and scratching, licking her in response. It's okay that there's no food for him as long as he has someone to pay attention to him. Because obviously his mistress never does, nope.

Laughing softly, pleased that he's made a new friend, Inessa smiles. "The accent is welcome, trust me. Most of my life has been spent at Kinloch Hold, but I'm originally from Denerim. Perhaps our paths might have crossed earlier, under different circumstances. And since I've already introduced my mabari before myself yet again, I am Inessa."

She wrinkles up her nose in laughter, squeezing her eyes shut and turning her face away from all the puppy kisses, but doesn't stand up. The slobber is gross, but it reminds her with a pang of her family's herding dogs back home. Eventually, though she does stand up; with nothing else to use, she just wipes her face off with her sleeve. Inessa won't judge her--she's a dog person, right?

"Fern Doirnáin," she introduces herself, smiling a little, but doesn't lose the curiosity in her eyes. "You were in the Circle?" She looks almost sympathetic, like being trapped in the Circle is the most terrible of fates.

There's absolutely no judgment from the young Warden, who darts her an understanding smile. Garahel eventually calms down, flopping on his back and turning his head to watch each as they speak. At that almost sympathetic expression, she nods but is quick to reassure. "Indeed, for most of my life. It was a fortunate turn of events, in my case. The opportunities given there would never have been possible outside it."

Compared to the constant deprivation of the alienage, a life with square meals, a sturdy roof and an education to rival any noble's is a great gain indeed.

"When the Circles fell, I sought to remain useful. Hence, this." She touches her griffon pendant, grateful for chance to do something other than fight Templars who could cancel her greatest strength.

Fern eyes her with a small twist to her lips, as though trying to discern for herself whether the Circle has left Inessa with any lasting trauma. She looks well enough, and doesn't sound--what had her aunt called it? Tranquil?--but she certainly seems very poised and calm. Maybe that's the same thing--

--then her thoughts derail abruptly when Inessa draws her attention to that pendant, and her eyes grow wide with excitement again.

"You're a Grey Warden!" she exclaims, all bright smiles again, and in the manner of excitable teenagers, seems to have forgotten entirely the whole purpose behind her visit to the mess hall. Her lunch remains on the table behind her, cooling. "That's why I came to Kirkwall you know, to join! Well, that's why I was coming originally, anyway, until this happened--" She holds up her left hand and tugs her glove up just enough to reveal the glowing anchor making itself at home in her palm.

Inessa doesn't seem to mind the inspection, having nothing to hide. Reaching over with a foot to rub Garahel's belly, she raises her eyebrows at Fern's announcement. New recruits aren't something that Inessa would have thought to be feasible by thyis point, especially outside a Blight. Then again, it sounds like the girl has a mindset very similar to her own, when she sought to join. "You did? Well, that will get the senior Warden's attention. I'm rather low on the seniority scale, myself."

Her gaze is drawn to that glow, of course, and her expression is sympathetic when she looks up once more. "It's not an uncommon sight around here. We have many shardbearers among us, native and rifter alike. How recent is it? Does it still pain you?"

As green and untrained as she is, Fern's odds of getting anyone to take her request to join seriously are incredibly low, but she's made it this far by sheer willpower alone. She's determined, and surely once the Senior Warden speaks with her and sees how much she wants to join--surely he won't be able to turn her down. Will he?

"How recent is it? Does it still pain you?"

"I--no," she starts, sounding surprised by this revelation, and looks back to the anchor. For a moment she peers at it in bewildered silence, then tugs her glove up over it and rubs her wrist just below it. "Not really, anyway. Not like it did before I got here."

That answer seems to relax her and Inessa leans back in her chair. "Good, I'm glad to hear it. That's normal enough. We don't yet have the means to rid anyone of shards, for those who want such, but there is a project dedicated to rifts and the Veil. Hopefully, continued research will yield something of note."

This talk of research projects and removing shards makes Fern shift uncertainly; she can do basic arithmetic and knows her letters, but beyond that, she grew up on a farm and hasn't had any formal schooling. She looks down at her palm again, then nervously chafes her hand together. "I don't know," she replies, and smiles the way one tends to when they're decidedly uncomfortable about something. "I've never even had a tooth yanked out by a physicker before... Would it hurt badly to take it out?"

That nervousness softens Inessa's approach and she holds back from rambling about research, knowing it's very easy to lose herself in that. "I don't mean to worry you. We have no way of knowing, not yet. I suppose it's a subject for another time, as there is still much to do before reaching that point." If they reach it, but she prefers to remain optimistic.

"I was going to refill my cup of tea, but there's still more in the kettle. Would you like some? It's plain, but we have cream and sugar in the kitchen." Garahel perks up, knowing that where there's tea, there's also time to snag him a second helping. He also leans against Fern affectionately, to distract from that palm.

Fern drops her hands into Garahel's short, bristly fur and scratches him affectionately, but one gets the impression that her gentle touch to the dog is as much about reassuring herself as it is about giving him attention. She smiles a little at Inessa and nods. "That would be really nice, thanks," she replies, choosing to leave thoughts of the anchor and her future here at the Inquisition for another time, and follows after her towards the kitchen.

TEST DRIVE MEME!

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