allthisshitisweird | TEST DRIVE MEME!

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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 filled with bears. Choose your own adventure!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( The social expectations upon a young lady of Orlais are both similar and sharply different to those of France; for her part, Gwenaëlle doesn't turn a hair at his joining her on the bench, only shifting slightly to accommodate conversation. If anything, it suits her well: at all of 5'3", she spends more than enough time tilting her head up to look at the people she speaks to. )

It must be wearying, ( after a moment, considering the tenor of that answer, ) to have to so much start over. In the middle of a stupid, insane war that is itself in the middle of several other stupid, insane wars, and surrounded largely by stupid, insane people.

( Tell us how you really feel, Gwenaëlle, you're really holding back. )

[His laugh is composed and soft.] When you put it like that, madame Vauquelin, I feel more at home than I have since I arrived.

[Not his wars, of course. The war against Holland was necessary, the war against Spain hadn't been. But the court was exhausting, for all that it was a pain he'd inflicted on himself.]

And people say I'm not charming--!

( Because she's a mouthy little piece of work without a scrap of shame is why, and she knows it. She is mercurial, petty, offensively blunt - but intelligent, witty and composed entirely of bloody-minded determination as well. It's astonishing, sometimes, the people she draws to her in and around the Inquisition, the small standing army of protectors who find her endearing.

And the rest, bewildered by what is the bloody point of yet another spoiled girl in a dress from Orlais. )

Hold onto that sense of humor, monsieur, it will serve you well. What stands between Thedas and total ruin is an organisation that on more days than I care to think about it most closely resembles a sack of feral fucking cats-

if you'll pardon my bluntness.

( """""bluntness"""""" is her stock in trade. )

I'm always inclined to support any effort to apply competence and forethought to the damn thing.

( And, well, increasingly that has meant looking upon the least likely players with a more considering eye. Her skepticism has been met with consistency, and the point remains that rifters rely on the Inquisition for their fate and fortune - with that in mind, they gamble far less recklessly than those who think they might make something out of the chaos. Fewer of them have to be told how much they're playing for. )

[Her bluntness has him smiling more. People who spoke their mind, as she appeared to be, were a rarity in Versailles. He himself rarely had the chance to express his true opinion on matters, and it was often so very cathartic to say or hear things said which everyone thought but no one dared voice.]

But you do not to attempt to apply it yourself?

( She turns her left hand over, displaying the anchor-shard- )

This binds me here, but I am not myself a member of the Inquisition. I think that the work that I've done from the position that I'm in is much more useful than anything I could contribute otherwise - I am a poet, not a soldier.

So I open my house, my grandfather's pockets. I elbow them in the face when they're doing something particularly idiotic and remind them that because I have stopped writing publicly for the time being doesn't mean I've lost my pen or don't know who to write to if I think someone needs to be scrutinised to better do their job.

( And she might have told her cousin that he shamed his dead wife when he disagreed with her, which might have not been as helpful as if she'd resorted to literally anything else in that argument, but the Templar she'd interceded for is still alive and being trained in what used to be her ballroom; she calls it a win, even if the result didn't leave her entirely satisfied. )

I'm not a diplomat, I'm not politically adept, and I'm only learning to fight. What I can do is see things clearly and speak up about them - so that's what I do.

[He turns his own hand beside hers, to compare the anchor shards. Are gloves in fashion? If they are he'll be able to hide it more easily when needed.]

To the loss of those who prefer pretty words to unpretty truths, I have no doubt. [He's flattering her, but it's likely to be true as well. Seeing clearly is a rare gift, in the muddy waters of politics.] Yet you have gained one more subscriber to your insights today.

( In a pair of gloves, with that accent, once he has his feet under him - at a glance they'll think he's Orlesian, and it will get his foot in some doors, allow him the time to make a better impression without immediately setting anyone's hackles up about the rifts. Not an unpromising start. )

Well, ( with some ruefulness, ) as you've no doubt realised, I'm not at all shy about sharing them.

( Unasked. At length. )

I don't want people to die because we spent too much time trying to pretend we're living in the world we wish it was and not the one it is. That seems like such a little thing to ask, really.

And yet... [He smiles, empathetically. If his advisors, his nobles, his wife, his mistresses, his own brother would listen, would trust that he knew what he was doing and didn't allow their pettiness and greed to get in the way, how much greater would France become?]

If I may offer some advice in return... [He doesn't actually wait for her to allow it, forgetting a moment that here he isn't the king and she isn't obliged to listen to all he has to say.] When speaking to those who doubt your ideas, do not dismiss their pretences so lightly.

A man will listen more carefully if he thinks it will help him achieve what he wishes he had, whether the words he hears are pretty or blunt.

( She isn't obligated - but she does, a little wry as she hears it, pressing her hands together and thinking briefly of that exchange with Aleron, and how productive it absolutely had not been. If she'd been more patient, if she'd tried to understand how he saw it so she could make him see how it was-

well, they might still be speaking. Perhaps not, though, when she knows now he sees her only as a silly girl to be brought back to heel with trinkets. )

I'm not known for my patience, ( is such a breathtaking understatement that somewhere in the Fade a spirit of can't believe you just said that probably formed spontaneously, ) or my-- people skills. Unfortunately. It is very good advice.

And I do try to follow it.

( When people won't see, though, it's really hard not to hit them in the nose they're cutting off to spite their stupid faces. )

That is all any of us can do, Madame. [He nods, deferring to her own knowledge of herself.

Whether she heeds the advice or whether she prefers to focus on speaking clearly the truth that she sees is her own prerogative. His own focus here is to secure allies and find where and how he can gain power.]

( Gwenaëlle's time with the Inquisition can largely be marked by the feuds and fights she's started- but she's done as much good as she has tripped over her own angry little feet. She learns, and schemes, and works harder than she'd ever imagined of herself-

And listens, occasionally, to good advice. )

Do you have questions? I used to write a - well, it was propaganda, of course, and aimed at the public rather than those serving, but I've been told that it's proven a useful resource to some rifters.

My questions are unending, madame. [That he has no trouble admitting.]

So far I am trusting to those I meet to share what it is they think I should know. [That's not true- he's been hunting down everything he can about the nations, politics, and alliances here.] I'd welcome whatever you have.

I'll make sure you have a copy of that before you go. I've still got a few, floating about the place. The project-

( Mm. )

-ran its course in that form, ( see, she isn't totally incapable of being diplomatic. ) I'm still writing a great deal on the Inquisition, but more in the vein of...I think it will be important, later. To remember.

If you're new to mages, though.

Has anyone talked to you about their war?

I have made the acquaintance of a mage by the name of Anders, who introduced me to... what mages are capable of. [It's going to take time before he can accept what he's seen.]

He made mention that the enemies of the Inquisition were the Tevinter Imperium and the Qun, along with Corypheus. [He has no idea if it's relevant, he's yet to find out why they're enemies in the first place.]

( Someone once told her that if you haven't got anything nice to say, it's better not to say anything at all. It isn't advice Gwenaëlle has ever had much time for - she much prefers 'if you haven't got anything nice to say, come and sit over here by me' - but just for novelty's sake, why not try it out?

She lets it lie. Her objections to Anders are personal, not political. )

True enough. We aren't technically at war with Tevinter - a damned slim technicality with Corypheus swanning about the place talking about the glory of old Tevinter - or for that matter the Qun, but it might well be a matter of time.

I was speaking of the war between mages and Templars. You might have noticed things are a little tense in the Gallows. And anywhere Anders is.

( That doesn't count as a rude thing, it's a factual observation. )

[That knowledge... put some things into perspective.]

It was presumed that any hostility was directed at a newly arrived rifter. [And he'd failed to mention the war. Interesting.

It helped having two accounts of the relations with Tevinter and Qun. Easier to see where their accounts agreed and where they did not, as well as who mentioned different issues.] But tell me of this war; what are mages and Templars fighting over? It cannot be land.

No. It's freedom.

( Maker's breath, what has she got herself into, trying to explain this- the moment it occurs to her what a task she's taken on is hard to miss, the twist of her mouth as she orders her thoughts, tries to shear them off her own editorial remarks for at least long enough to know what she means to say. What is fair to say, what is true. Resist the impulse to make jibes that might be misleading, when he won't know the context-

No small task in itself, with a tongue like hers. )

Mages are...

Mages have always been confined to the Circles. The Chantry teaches us that magic was made to serve man, not rule over him - and mages are dangerous. Their connection to the Fade attracts demons to them, they're susceptible to possession - even aside from demons, Tevinter isn't exactly a wonderful example to follow of mage rule. They're capable of things I can't even imagine.

So, in the south at least, they've been responsibility of the Chantry. And of Templars, whose role is to protect mages, and to protect the rest of us from mages. They're taken to the Circles to be properly educated in their gifts and to ensure that they pose no threat, that their magic is used in the correct way.

( It all sounds so sensible. It's so easy to parrot back, too, what she'd been taught for years - things that for almost all of her years she'd never questioned. )

Apostate mages are those that flee the Chantry, that escape - they go on the run, they live in secret. Templars hunt them, too. All mages are apostates now, technically speaking.

( She worries at the edge of her sleeve, the words careful and deliberate and the birdlike way she can't quite be still betraying the delicacy of the subject. )

We passed on our way here quite a lovely little forest, sprung up in the midst of Hightown. You might have noticed it's under guard. Up until not so very long ago, it was a sad crater where the Kirkwall Chantry used to be - until it was blown to bits, along with everyone in it. By Anders. Before the Gallows was an Inquisition outpost, it was the site of some of the most horrendous abuses of the Chantry perpetrated upon the mages in its care. And to some minds, the birthplace of the mage rebellion. Something started and it couldn't be contained - the Circles fell, the Templars broke with the Chantry. Divine Justinia, the most holy, tried to broker a peace between them. That was when all of this,

( gesturing to their anchor-shards, )

began. The Temple of Sacred Ashes fucking exploded as well, with all of the highest representatives of the Chantry, the Templars, the mages, but this time it was Corypheus, creating the Breach. That war isn't over. It's- tabled. While we deal with the other one.

Edited 2017-10-03 10:44 (UTC)

[Well.

He listens attentively, tries to commit to memory as much as he can. It doesn't help that he still struggles to accept that mages even exist, and his first response is to agree that these Templars ought have done whatever they could to keep mages under control. He would do the same, if a witch was ever brought before him.

But mages here were not like witches, necessarily. It was the Fade they drew power from, not Lucifer.]

Outside Tevinter, would most have sided with the Templars against the mages? [This would likely be another dimension of politics here, that he has no trouble understanding.]

In the beginning, maybe, but - they haven't covered themselves with glory. As many disgraced Templars went to Corypheus as did maleficarum. ( A beat, as it occurs to her the terminology is likely unfamiliar to him- ) Naughty mages. Very naughty mages.

( More along the lines of the sort of Lucifer-worshiping witchcraft he's envisioning, probably, only still with less Lucifer. )

As many Templars are responsible for death and destruction and making the roads unsafe and the people frightened. They broke with the Chantry, they have no mandate or proper leadership. ( A shake of her head; ) Nobody looks like a hero any more.

[Mostly to himself-] Then there is a vacancy in which new champions may arise.

[Look, branding is very important and right now Louis can tell that the Inquisition has a major branding problem. They need to fight demons, yes, but they also need everyone to think they do a great job of it and to give them more support...

He focuses again on the topic at hand.] How many mages and templars are in the Inquisition?

( Gwenaëlle had been, for a time, at the forefront of efforts to secure that goodwill; it is her serene face that gazes out from sketches on the covers of the leaflets still floating around Ferelden and Orlais, persuasive words from her pen luring support, allies, aid. Calming and soothing as much as she could, on the matter of rifters, even elves-

New champions. Yes. He catches on quickly. )

I suppose 'too many' is an unfair answer.

( To both sides. And not enough is probably closer to the truth, shorthanded as they remain, hardly in a position to turn down any able help- )

Much of it is mages and Templars. And every other sort of person, and rifters, as well, though you make up a quite small number. A very visible small number.

[Wryly:] Then there is dissent within our numbers, as well as without.

[But that tended to be the case as soon as you had two people gathered to try to reach common purpose.] From whom can I learn about those already in the Inquisition? There must be records.

Listen to the crystals and you'll learn more than they've written down.

( Particularly given the tendency for people to speak in a rather unguarded fashion there-

She is guilty enough of that, having been drawn on more than one occasion to speak out of turn. )

Archives and records will be available in the library, or else restricted to division heads...but the crystals, people talk. Constantly. All you've got to do is listen.

[From a pocket he draws out the crystal he'd been given, regarding it with a hesitant suspicion.]

It seems strange that some would be so unguarded knowing that any can hear them. [He's not calling her a liar... he's just. Unsure.]

Well, anyone with a crystal, though I would not - having spent some time in the Gallows - describe the Inquisition as discerning where personnel is concerned.

( Like, at all. )

And they did give me one, for all I've never joined. But I promise you, there was a rousing evening where half of Skyhold seemed to be playing bed, wed and behead on the crystals.

I won.

( 'But Gwenaëlle, that literally isn't a game you can win.'

No, she definitely won it. )

TEST DRIVE MEME!

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