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 filled with bears. Choose your own adventure!

Comments

Finch Wicker | Native OC

[justnice]

i. the docks;

They want his papers.

That’d be alright, if he had any — and maybe Finch did, for a while, but he expects the letter he left in Ansburg isn’t what the boat guard means when he shakes him off again, irritated. Access to the Gallows is restricted to the Inquisition.

"That’s why I need to go," He insists, faintly desperate, spoken through a smile that looks about to split and run. Finch draws himself up to his full height, stands pitchfork up. Abruptly, he slumps down again as the guard glances between its tines, and his own blade.

"Look, kid," Finch knows that tone, steps back, on reflex. But what other choice is there?

"It’s important —"


ii. the gallows;

No one’s seen Fern.

Or anyway, his description isn't helping. There’s a lot of talk about of elves with fade shards — each story stranger than the last — and nothing that points him any closer to what a fade shard is supposed to be, anyway.

He hasn’t given up. But perched on a rampart ledge, desultorily chewing an apple (a generous cook, and pity's fine when you're in the mood to be pitiable), it’s difficult to imagine where to begin. He casts hopeful eyes up at any approach: Maybe this time.

Maybe there'll at least be more apples.


v. wildcard;

[ hmu on plurk or discord (oeste #8807) if you need anything for it ♥ ]

Leonardo Watch | Rifter

[iseeall]

1. Gallows

He did not like this. Leo was more experienced than some in the field of reality warping and holes in the fabric of the universe, but actually being sucked into it and deposited in some medieval hell-scape was drawing the line.

Unfortunately he couldn't do much about it, couldn't find anyone else he knew, and no way back. He was smart enough to hide his eyes from these people the best he could, but strangely enough he was now...bored.

He'd been walking around the gallows but everyone had complained about him getting underfoot and some of the people just ticked him off, so he just. Shoved himself under a table in the library and rested his chin on his knees. Leo was really hoping this wasn't his life now.

2. Crystal

Well, at least this crystal thing was neat. Leo understood that its purpose was a lot like a cellphone or a walkie-talkie, but the one thing he didn't realize that it was picking up everything he was saying.

"These fucking bastards. I hate all of this so much. 'Go do this and be useful for once, kid!' Don't they know I'm an adult? And how the fuck do they expect me to move this!!" Leo was muttering to himself, gesturing at a pile of what looked like very heavy boxes that probably contained metal or some other supply that was useful for an organization in the business of killing things.

"They can eat shit for all I care. They have actual slaves here. What the fuck?" Whoever was listening to their crystal right now could probably hear everything Leo was saying as he tried in vain to move one of the boxes, for better or for worse.

princess nuala | hellboy ii: the golden army

[favouring]

THE GALLOWS

( At first glimpse, Nuala resembles nothing so much as an elven statue - taller than they, though slighter than the other foreign elves at a little less than six foot. Paler, too, snow-white even after the long, laborious trek back to Kirkwall beneath cloudless Nevarran skies; stranger, the marks on her face scarification and not tattooed, the hints of warmth in her skin as gold as her eyes, her nails, the ends of her mostly-white hair. In pale garments, hands clasped and stood quiet at the edge of a courtyard with watchful eyes, she could be mistaken by someone not looking terribly closely for a mislaid elven artifact-

except that she does move, eventually. In Kirkwall they stare, however friendly she tries to be, so in the Gallows she remains; cautious, but less daunted than she might have been, once. Grieved, but-

less than she might have been, once. Look at all these little things, running about, living and breathing alongside and ... underfoot, yes, but not without hope or determination or potential. They are not alike to her, but in them she sees shadows of lesser races that had called her people fair, once; who are naught now but shadows, forgotten. It is not only Bethmoora lost, Bethmoora mourned. There are dwarves here, she saw a little dirty one not long before- )

You, ( with the imperiousness of royalty and the disarming friendliness of the eternal ingenue, ) tell me, what do you today?

SENDING CRYSTAL

( There is a silence, to begin with. A clearing of the throat. It is a strange but not entirely unfamiliar magic that she turns over in her hands, speculative, and then finally: )

Hello.

( Nailed it. )

Ghirahim | Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword | Super late??

[fabusword]

A: Kirkwall, some Tavern [ So when he first had arrived, he heard of some ancient megalomaniac that's keen on bringing some sort of ultimate destruction to this world and/or becoming a god in the process. Why, giving aide to such crazies is just up his ally! Not that he feels particularly loyal to whoever this "Corypheus" legendary mage is, as Ghirahim's tied to one master and one master only. But on the subject of causing massive destruction to Creation and the mortal realm? He'd gladly join anyone who shares such ambitions.

Of course he's been laying low for the most part. After all it wouldn't make much sense to parade around his intentions or view of disgusting, squishy, and vile people who are not ~perfect~ demons like himself, not when he's completely new. And, to be honest, he's a bit lost as to how to gather his bearings in this place, what with having a bit of his innate abilities done away with. Like how he's actually experiencing hunger. ]

What is this? [ This being meat stew with potatoes and peas. It looks awful, especially to a demon lord who's never really had to eat or drink up until this point. Disgust is clearly written on his face as he lets the contents slide from the spoon back to the bowl with a slurpy pop. Ew. ]

B: Questing/ Sending Crystal

Good evening dear citizens of Thedas! It is I, Ghirahim. [ Said with a confident smile, accompanied by a flamboyant flick of his silver hair to the side ] It seems that I've been tasked with hunting a dragon of sorts! How exciting. [ Everything of his tone practically screams the opposite. ] But of course I cannot do this on my own-- [ Something that he's become to begrudge lately. ] --and so am requesting volunteers to accompany me on this journey.

[ The smile remains in place, thin yet pleasant enough, as he finishes his pitch. ] Contact me if you would enjoy the honor of aiding in this task. [ Because obviously everyone would love working with him, right?? ] Ah, and state what you are able to do. I do not need someone who's specialty is painting the dragon, thank you very much.