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

Colin | Native OC

[keenly]

I - Gallows

Every step Colin takes into the belly of the dragon, he reminds himself this particular dragon is dead.

He is a young man, dark hair braided messily, a sack slung over his shoulder. He has more goods being put into storage, and he feels anxious about their security there. He's an Inquisition trader now, although being assigned to Kirkwall means he is very far down on the hierarchy of Inquisition traders. That's fine. Colin is young, with only a few years of experience.

Up ahead are the inner doors built to seal away abominations in an emergency. Colin stops and falls back half a pace as if physically repelled.

He doesn't want to do this.

He almost turns back, but then people would suspect him. There are worse things than living in a secure fortress, free to come and go as he pleases. It's just a building. It's not haunted, and other than those telltale doors, it bears little resemblance to Kinloch Hold. No one here even knows he's a mage. No one here, although if anyone can find out, it would be the Inquisition.

Colin moves forward determinedly. That's what he's here to do.

II - Kirkwall

To Colin, walking around the trading districts is sort of like going to a museum. Not only can he afford absolutely nothing in Hightown, but it's also worth it to see who is here and which sells what. Education, yay.

He pauses in the market to take down and rebraid his hair when he spots a deep blue tunic. It seems like the only bright thing in this ridiculously depressing city. Hair back up, he steps toward the stall and reaches for it. Holds it up in front of the mirror. Smiles privately. Then he folds it carefully and replaces it on the table and walks away.

IV - Crystal

So...

[At the very end of the word, the vowel veers into an "ee" sound, betraying the sort of background the speaker comes from. When he speaks again, it's a little less clear--his diction is better, his education covering up most of the low-class Fereldan accent.]

I heard a rumor about griffons. Is it true?

1

[foundmyselfagain]

Gareth is pretty good at telling when people don't want to come into the Gallows, having spent years watching it, and feeling it. There are plenty of reasons why you wouldn't, because not everyone is daft enough to think that setting up a base in this Maker forsaken pit is a good idea. He's not sure the reason, and he doesn't bother to speculate. Instead, he approaches the other man, a lopsided smile on his face.

"Don't worry, it's not that bad. It's probably worse." He pauses for a moment, and sticks a finger in the air. "But, it's better than it was. They've scrubbed all the blood off the tiles and everything." It's an attempt to provide some easement, albeit through morbid humor.

[keenly]

"Oh." Gross. Colin doesn't really look any sort of reassured. He doesn't stop walking through those doors, even though he's somehow afraid they will close behind him and not open again. "It's just a building," he repeats aloud this time.

[foundmyselfagain]

Luckily for Colin, Gareth is incapable of Taking A Hint, and lops along right after him, raising his eyebrows as the man talks to himself. There’s the kneejerk reaction to make up some story about how a building could possibly be not a building, but–He didn’t seem to like the first joke very much, he doubts that one would go any better.

“…They’ve got flowers, now.” People like flowers, right? Flowers are nice. "And trees. I can't believe they managed to grow anything in this pit of the void, but they did." He smiles cheerfully. "So there's that."

[keenly]

"Were you from the Circle here?" It's a casual enough question, although Colin knows the reputation the Kirkwall Circle had. The very worst of both mages and Templars, it was said.

[foundmyselfagain]

"Sure was," Gareth admits easily, a wry smile on his face. "They really cleaned the place up, you're lucky you missed all the giant slave statues lining the buildings. Charming, really. Just in case, you know, we ever forgot our place." He waves a hand in the air carelessly, a lot more cheerful than most people would be about the subject.

"So if you need to get anywhere, just say the word, and I can...point you to someone else who probably knows."

[keenly]

An unvoiced laugh, although Colin's eyes widen slightly. Slave statues, mages forgetting their place, those familiar doors, it's all making him feel a little weird. His own breath is starting to sound like water rushing in his ears.

"It's just a building," he repeats faintly, then he stops walking and puts his hand on the wall as if trying to balance himself. He needs to get hold of himself before this goes out of control.

IV

[circleprodigy]

Yes, actually. It's--

[Pause.]

I know that voice.

...Colin? Is that you?

[keenly]

...Yes? [Oh shit oh shit shit shit shit shit someone knows him.] Who's this?

[circleprodigy]

I'm Inessa, from Kinloch Hold. Do you remember? I was a few years younger, but ahead of your studies.

[Hopeful, but not excessively so. They didn't overlap that much, and there's a chance he might not remember the tiny elven bookworm/teacher's pet.]

[keenly]

I remember. [His voice is quiet, but he is actually relieved. Inessa will probably understand what he's trying to do here.] I do. It's...really good to know you're all right.

[circleprodigy]

Likewise. I do not take for granted finding my fellow mages from the tower, not when everything has been so...chaotic. [Between the rebellion, the Breach and other madness, every person she's lost contact with is a potential tragedy waiting to be heard about. That he's not one of them is a relief.]

...but yes, I can attest to the griffons. We were able to secure the griffons from the Anderfels, and they were brought to the Inquisition...in care of the Grey Wardens, of course. In fact, I am one of their Keepers and a rider of one in particular.

[keenly]

So you're a Grey Warden now? [Colin knows he's supposed to remember the Hero of Ferelden, but he never even saw the man.] That's...that sounds like it would be good for you.

II

[overharrowed]

Julius didn't catch the moment with the tunic, but he is rounding a corner as Colin turns away from the stall. Living in Hightown feels faintly ridiculous to Julius, but it certainly improves upon the alternative.

He draws up short when he catches sight of Colin. It isn't that Julius doesn't recognize him -- Kinloch Hold wasn't that big -- but that he's so surprised that it takes him a moment to register what he's seeing.

(He doesn't know why anything surprises him anymore, really.)

Colin is unlikely to miss the tall enchanter with the giant staff in the moment it takes Julius to decide what to say. That he will say something is a given; if he can be glad to see Anders after everything, this is much less complicated.

[keenly]

Colin glances up just enough to duck by whoever it is who stopped in front of him but--

He gasps one of his mother's Antivan curses under his breath, looking up at the towering man and somehow ridiculously inventorying what he was just doing to make sure none of it can be reported as an offense to the First Enchanter.

"En...chanter Julius?" He knows he's not in trouble but he can't help wondering if he's in trouble.

[overharrowed]

He really is excessively tall.

"Colin," he says, having evidently decided how to proceed. His expression might quirk, just slightly, at the oath. "I'm glad you're..." ...alive? "...looking well. Have you been in Kirkwall long?"

He doesn't assume, necessarily, that he's here for the Inquisition. The former Circle mages who are left are scattered, and he's not heard from most of them in years. He hopes that it's just because most of them are in hiding, but he knows better.

[keenly]

Colin looks, as he often did in the Circle, like a scolded dog, even though he has not been scolded by any stretch of the imagination. He shakes his head.

"I, erm. Just arrived. I'm here as a...as a trader. Not as a mage. I'm trying to move on from all that."

[overharrowed]

Their prior relationship does make it slightly harder for Julius to avoid the impression he might give Colin homework, but it's not a purposeful impression, at least.

"Ah," he says, of the observation. "Well, under the current circumstances, I suppose I can hardly blame you." Julius is clearly not undercover, what with the robes and the very large staff slug across his back. "It's a dangerous time for mages, and I wouldn't be so bold without the Inquisition behind me."

He hadn't been, for years, and for all his manner is easy, Colin might know enough about Julius to guess that there's more defiance than one might think in that ease.

"How's business? Have you had a decent meal recently?"

[keenly]

There's a slight, helpless widening of Colin's eyes, as if he's being embarrassed by a fussy parent.

"I'm all right," he says, although it's actually sort of a relief for someone to look out for him just a little. He has been on his own for so long. "It's not business or eating that's the problem." His brow furrows. "I still get...weird, about being out in the open sometimes."

He can't remember if Julius' class was the one in which he had a total meltdown and had to spend the night in the infirmary. Julius might have no idea what he's talking about. That was a long time ago, and he was hardly the only mage traumatized by Uldred's rebellion.

I

[justice_is_blond]

"Are you all right?" he asks quietly. The young man who had been just barely ahead of him had faltered, and Anders knows the feeling even if his fairly regular trepidation isn't for the same reason. A moment later he's catching sight of the man's face and squinting. There's familiarity to it, somehow, but Anders can't put his finger on why.

It sinks in that he's staring as they walk and he looks away, trying to not be rude.

"Sorry. I feel like I should recognize you, but I can't place your face."

[keenly]

Colin answers the first question with a smile and a dismissive nod, neither of which look very heartfelt. The half-recognition, however...he slows and looks over at Anders, studying him in turn.

"What's your name?" he asks, feeling a similar odd familiarity.

[justice_is_blond]

While it's not like anyone who doesn't know is likely to be in the Gallows, Anders looks around anyway. Nope. The only face he's not certain of is in front of him. Right. Now for the answer that could get yelling. Anders takes a breath and looks back over at the younger man.

"I'm known as Anders."

[keenly]

Dark eyebrows go up.

"The Anders?" the young man asks breathlessly.

[justice_is_blond]

He folds his arms unconsciously before nodding. It's not a surprise to anyone in the Gallows, and the guy isn't recoiling yet so he'll take both of those things.

"Yes."

[keenly]

A slow grin begins to spread over Colin's face. The Anders. The Circle tried to paint him as a pitiable madman at best, but whatever the state of his mind, he saved Kirkwall's mages and really reopened the question of independence. Between Kirkwall and the White Spire, it finally got done.

"It's..." He goes a bit wheezy so he stops talking and reaches out to shake Anders' hand.