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

[earthbones]

"What d'you have to be sorry for? Keep saying it and it'll be all you'll say." Some of them in Skyrim, the dunmer got it worse than her because there were more of them after Red Mountain and a few argonians, it was all they could say, the apology that came out every time they opened their mouths. What's the point in it? "Nords come from Skyrim, bigger than most of the people here, lots of shouting about the god the Empire and the Thalmor took from them," her mouth twists like someone's caught her on a fishhook on the word Thalmor. "Always some invasion somewhere to someone."

Falinesti and the rooting and all she left behind to take the Pale Pass then a dragon--

But they're talking literal bones, not the ones she carries about with her sure as Y'ffre burns somewhere under her skin with all the knowledge given her. "What's exotic about bone? Mammoth tusk maybe if you don't have those, glass if it's hard to get it. Daedric? Daedric I'll give you." Her eyes slide to the side, a hand taps her bow. Someone slipped past her before, looked at it, hissed red lyrium and had run. Whatever that stuff was.

[gatheringstorm]

"I was sympathizing, that's all. I know what it's like to stand out here, better than most. But I'll admit I still have the advantage of lived-in experience, so I know it's not the same."

Of course none of those terms mean anything to Korrin, who nonetheless listens with confused interest. "We don't have mammoths or daedric--" And then she freezes upon hearing those dreaded words. "Wait, what? Red lyrium?"

Her eyes widen as her eyes dart to the bow, because what the actual hell.

[earthbones]

"You don't have fur or scales, might pass better a few places in Skyrim if you splash some red on your face and lower your voice."

Generally people want something from her, if people are nice it starts setting her hackles up and hard as she strains her ears she can't hear the Night Mother. That's a problem. "Someone said there are giants," deadpan, it explains everything and-- "Don't know what that is but some of them whisper that the bow glows like it, only three people are light-fingered enough to steal from me and one of the three is dead now. Daedric."

Crooks a finger, tall lass Brynjolf might say but since Brónach's not going to be growing all those extra inches someone'll have to come down here and meet her. "Ebony ingots. Cool it with a daedra heart."

[gatheringstorm]

It only takes Korrin a second before that horror abruptly subsides. She's seen Red Templar weapons, seen what can come of red lyrium that is crafted, and this isn't it. Thank the Maker or whoever; traveling up north and seeing red lyrium krakens has her even more on edge about the substance.

"You...craft bows with something's heart?" She doesn't know whether to be appalled or in awe, assuming it's even true. Anyway--

"As long as it's not red lyrium, that's what matters. That stuff is fucking poison; it drives people mad, corrupts them from the inside out so that their corpses grow more of it...nasty stuff. If you're out with the Inquisition and you see those red spikes jutting up from the ground or people with bulging red veins...best stay back and destroy at a distance. It's that toxic."

[earthbones]

A sigh pushes itself up and out of Brónach. Too old for this. What was that word-- milkdrinkers? Seems about right. Seems like she could fit it to people here, hears it in the heavy voice of an orc and all of Markarth echoing behind. "How would I craft the bow with a heart? Gut works for the string, plenty of it and cured to just right, hide or fur for mufflers that's just obvious. Heart? Even daedra hearts are the size of a man's," and she smiles sharply, smiles as if she knows that very certainly for a fact, perhaps has made study of them laid out despite looking nothing like any sort of scholarly woman. "Heart needs to be fairly fresh with some blood in it to cool whatever you're forging."

Obviously her bow is going to live on alone, one of a kind in Kirkwall if people don't know about things like this. Given the distinct absence of daedra. She can't summon them up herself, never her sort of thing to do but there are demons here that might have a heart in them that screamed when the rift dumped her out. It's an idea at the very least.

"Destroy the whole body?" That makes her sharper, horrified maybe? Can you tell on this face that could cut a knife on a good day Korrin? Is she expected to follow along with this, turning from the stall, turning away with a sickened grimace and shake of the head at the thought.