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 filled with bears. Choose your own adventure!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Loghain Mac Tir has words for whomever it is who foisted this particular task off onto him, but they will have to wait. The man in front of him must be dealt with first.

He steps further into the room, light catching on the Grey Warden's insignia on his armour.] They are maps of Thedas, serah, or what has been charted of it thus far. Kirkwall is in the Free Marches. [He leans over the table to indicate a spot on one of the more regionally-specific charts.] Here.

[The soldier seems to be no-nonsense, which Louis appreciates. He mades a note to ask about the insignia. Best to learn the symbols of this new country if he's to be of any use here.]

What about these marches makes them free, precisely?

A question better answered by a Marcher, I believe. [This said with a dry smirk, indicating that the speaker himself is most assuredly not of the Free Marches. Considering the question more seriously, Loghain adds,] They are each a nation unto themselves, coming together only to oppose outside forces.

I confess it still remains peculiar to me, but, [a shrug,] I am Fereldan. [He indicates the southern country on the map.]

[They would need to be well organised, to repel would-be conquerors... but they're only one part of the map.]

What can you tell me of your nation? Who rules it, and how? How do your people view the Inquisition?

[Loghain almost appears caught off-guard by the question, as though it is not one he expected to hear. A pensive frown creases his eyebrows.] It is ruled, [he begins quietly,] by my daughter, Queen Anora.

Ferelden is a nation of teyrnirs united under one crown. A young nation, but, [he adds, some latent pride entering his tone,] a proud one, too.

[A queen ruling while her father lived? Strange. If his was the royal line, then the father ought still be king- but if the queen's husband was of the royal line... why did he not rule himself? Mysterious.]

Are not all nations proud of their accomplishments, monsieur? [He doesn't smile, but his expression eases. He understands what it is to be proud of one's country- and the importance of that pride.] These teyrnirs are local... rulers? Lords? ... nobles?

[Loghain Mac Tir can be accused of many things, but kingliness is not among them. Anora would do well to continue her efforts to distance herself from the crimes of her father; let her rule be marked by her own achievements, rather than his failures.]

...regional, rather than local. Ferelden has only two teyrnirs, ruled by a teyrn each. [Or they would be, ordinarily. He's unsure who was appointed to replace him in Gwaren, once he abdicated his titles and holdings upon joining the Grey Wardens.] There are also arlings, ruled by arls, and the banns of the Bannorn.

[Teyrnirs, arls, banns in Ferelden, under a queen.]

Do your people support the Inquisition? Are you here with their blessing?

Am I--ah. [Loghain's lips twist in a bitter grimace. What a painful question this man has asked. Loghain gives him a searching, scrutinizing look; is he aware of Loghain's identity, his history? Is he being baited under the pretense of simple information gathering?]

...my history with my home country is fraught. The Grey Wardens now hold my allegiance before all others. I am here at their behest, to stop a Blighted creature from destroying the world. [A pause.] Forgive me, but it is best if I don't make any attempt to speak for Ferelden or her people.

[Sensing the pause, Louis looks up to meet that gaze. Displeasure wells in him that the man has not answered him, but he sets a calm expression on his face instead.

Accepting refusal is something he has grown out of the habit of. He'll need time to master it, to find ways around it.]

Very well. [He nods his head, looks back at the map.] The Grey Wardens fight the blight, I have heard. Are you the allies of the Inquisition in this?

TEST DRIVE MEME!

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