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.

PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS TDM FEATURES SNOW.

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, currently covered in snow and ice; 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, currently very cold. 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. In the snow!

II. KIRKWALL: A quick row across the near-freezing harbor will take you to Kirkwall proper. The city is built into the cliffs, from exclusive and wealthy snow-dusted Hightown at the top to impoverished Darktown in the abandoned mining tunnels below, where discarded waste is presently frozen into slushy brown ice. In the middle is Lowtown, home to taverns, merchants, and plenty of trouble to keep anyone looking for it happy. And a lot of snow. You’re welcome to spend your free time and your money here—but try not to annoy the locals too much, please, in case the Inquisition's welcome runs out. It’d be a shame to have to pack up and leave in all this snow.

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 Denerim, in the snow, pouring demons into the snowy 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 snow-covered road, or to gather samples out of the snow and take notes on the rift’s location once its closed, or to speak to prominent locals (in the snow) 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. And snow.

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.

There is no snow on the crystal, unfortunately.

V. WILDCARD: The whole of Thedas is yours to explore, from coast to uncharted wilderness filled with bears, and did we mention that there is snow? Anyway: choose your own adventure!

Comments

Gallows

[keenly]

Apparently someone decided Colin looked like a servant and deposited some of Marisol's belongings in his arms to cart up to her room. He really has no idea, though, how one is meant to respond to the accusation of not being a flamingo wrangler. The accent, however, the olive skin and black hair and and the quick, proud manner, reminds him almost painfully of his mother. But there the similarities end between the earthy Alessa and the beautiful noblewoman he sees here. The poor have many reasons to hate the rich, despite their dreams of becoming them.

Colin wrinkles his nose as he looks up the stairs with his parcels. "Probably not?" he says. "You, um, you want these somewhere particular, Madama?"

[champions]

Her eyebrow quirks at the stranger saddled with her belongings. Known to be a stranger because she knows her staff as well as all her family do; to be lax and to lack attention to detail is to allow attacks. “You have my apologies. Someone has clearly made a mistake,” and will be reprimanded, because this is how assassinations happen. Little errors, little lapses. She waves to someone else, offers them a smile and a stream of Antivan in which she asks them if they could please relieve the young man of the parcels given him, and take them to her rooms.

“Can I offer you some refreshment, since you have been so unfairly burdened?” Sincere and teasing, gently, in the same moment.

[keenly]

Oh, good. Now she thinks he's a thief probably. He folds his arms and shrugs, then replies in Antivan--fluid, if not fluent.

"No, Madama, I'm not offended, I'm Inquisition. If I were a servant they'd have to pay me, but since I'm not, by all means, burden me unfairly."

It's dry humor, not at all biting or indicative of any actual unfair setup.

[champions]

Her smile brightens with his Antivan - not flawless, but better than the average. It seems comfortable, which she is fairly sure makes up the greater part of being able to speak Antivan. Grammar and words can be shuffled all over the place, so long as one speaks comfortably instead of stilted and staggering. (Stilted and staggering as Ferelden dancers, she would say, if she were feeling particularly scathing.) Since he has responded in Antivan, she carries on in the language.

“It is always a pleasure to encounter those outside Antiva with a flair for the language. Did you learn for the Inquisition?” She gestures for her to walk with him, starting to move to the stairs. If he is eager to keep carrying the items she won’t pry them from him, but someone does approach with the offer of relieving him of them, if he prefers.

[keenly]

"Um." Okay, someone else is taking what he's carrying and now it's awkward because he doesn't have a reason to keep walking with her except that she's talking to him. "No, Madama. My mother was Antivan. She taught me the food and the language when I was growing up."

There is warm fondness in his voice, a memory of the smells of sandalwood and cloves, smoke rising up from a fire beneath her one giant kettle. Fragrance of cumin and texture of noodles, the sound of her mellifluous accent. She never really treated her children like children. They were her apprentice adults, learning how to act like people ought. When she was proud of her children, she wasn't scaling down her pride to fit into a child-sized shape. She was as proud of Colin's cooking as she would have been if he'd been a grown man. He wasn't good for a ten-year-old; he was just good.

"It's good to hear it again," he says wistfully. "The language and the accent."

[champions]

Was is hardly a subtle clue, nor is it an uncommon circumstance in Thedas. People people could be moved from the present and future to be eternally fixed in the past, and it was as painful as it was inevitable. Pain, unfortunately, served little purpose.
Still - she keeps moving, her dress - not mage robes, dress - rustling pleasantly as she walks, the music particular to expensive fabric.
“I am very fond of the cuisine, but it is always exciting to try food from other places. I know some call Southern food drab, but I think it is possible to find very fine dining throughout Thedas. I had the most amazing roast potatos in the Hinterlands, once - ah.” She stops momentarily, and the next question isn’t totally off topic, but might seem to be: “Can you read?”

[keenly]

Orphanhood is common indeed, and it would make Colin very uncomfortable indeed if he was pressed about it. The use of the past tense is not an invitation to inquire. Neither his her question of his literacy any manner of comment on his intelligence--he couldn't read until the age of eleven, and only learned because the Circle forced him.

"Si, Madama," he says, and then he lies: "Growing up I had a neighbor teach me. Why?"

[champions]

"How fortunate." She remembers what a struggle learning in the Circle was for some of her cohort. Lessons were, at times, painful, but these were the sorts of inequalities woven into class that Nikos was so concerned with. Her concern lay more with the inequalities between mages and non-mages, the ability to inherit titles and to not be locked abruptly in towers.

In any case, she has no reason to question; some people are lucky, after all, in some ways if not others. "My kitchen staff have some excellent recipes. If there are any dishes you have been eager to master but not yet had the opportunity, I am sure I could ask them to provide you with written recipes to follow."

She stops in her path, and turns to face him more. "I've not introduced myself yet, have I?"