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

[insatiably]

It's an admirable thing: all these folks running around in the cold and snow. Of course, most are from the south so maybe he should get a special mention for being from Antiva and braving the weather too. No? Ah, well; it's a nice thought to keep him warm.

He looks over at the woman who's the same height as he is and is immediately delighted at both her tone and words. Blowing out a breath that hangs in the air, he laughs. "I've never been very good at the offended looks, I'm afraid! You think I would have learned how, being surrounded by them all the time, but no. I'm afraid I'm far too eager to hear stories of the untamed wilds of the mountains to care if my ears are harmed. In fact, if you could get them to flush with heat, that would be wonderful! They're freezing right now." He puts a gloved hand to his ear and rubs the aching spot, though it does nothing to relieve it.

[iceblade]

There's a sympathetic grin at that. "Just keep moving around and you'll stave off the chill better. That's how we survive in the Frostbacks, when the chill is too much even for my people. If you want it cruder than that, fighting or fucking are even better ways to stay warm. At least we'll likely see some action of the former sort before we're done, aye?"

And yes, she may be checking to see if those ears changed color at all. Sorry, Julian, you're stuck with a troll.

"I'm no skald, that would be my mother. She knows all the best tales of Avvar heroes and gods, and what I know is but an echo of that. But if you've a genuine interest, I'll explain what I can."

[insatiably]

"The former, yes, but I would rather engage in the latter!" he says with a deep rumble of laughter. It's a simple statement, not meant to come across as a proposition. Yet seeing how she talks of these matters so bluntly, he has an idea that she's no shrinking violet.

"Pleasant time in pleasant company is better than dodging sharp weapons and whatever will come out of those rifts. But at least it will do something for my current frigid state." His ears are red from the cold only, but he'd gladly see them burning hot just so they stop aching so.

"Ah, a skald is a storyteller, then? And of course I want to hear! As you said, I had my chance to look offended and run off, but here you see me."

[iceblade]

"Aye, a storyteller and singer, a poet...whatever form our tales need, they'll find. I was always the sort who wanted to create my own tales, rather than recite the tales of others." She pauses and gestures to her blade. "I can tell you the story of how I got my legend-mark, if you'd like? Avvar don't have surnames as lowlanders do; we can use a patronymic, but otherwise a legend-mark serves as a surname once we earn it. I was once Skadi Thyrisdotten; now I'm known as Skadi Iceblade."

[insatiably]

"Fascinating! And that's something I well know. I wish to be the subject of tales I can take back to my sisters." He delights in seeing their eyes grow wide like saucers as he tells of the trouble he found his way into and how he got out of it again. He may be no bard, or great hero, but his tales are enough to hold their interest and clap at the end.

"Skadi Iceblade," he repeats, already thinking he might have to make an exception and tell Nicoletta and Anaïs about this person's tale. "It's only fair I tell you mine in return. Julian De Abbrixio. And please do go on. I'm all ears, even if they're in an unfortunate state."

[iceblade]

"It was a few years ago, back in White Wolf Hold. A high dragon had settled in the area for a time, though she left before my thane could gather other holds for a hunting party. You'd think that would be the end of it, but not long after during a time when most of our warriors were off at a competition with a neighboring hold, we had some 'guests'. As in, the high dragon's bratty half-grown dragonling children. There was a sizeable swarm headed our way, enough to overwhelm the hold if swift action wasn't taken.

I had just returned from my spirit warrior training, so I had arrived not long after the competing warriors had left. Thank the Lady for that bit of timing, since this was a greater challenge than any cliff or greased-up warrior. As you might've guessed, I'm neither quiet nor stealthy, so I decided to use that to my advantage. When I got their attention, I lead them to a pass and smashed my blade into an ice-bridge, bringing it down upon the swarm. What remained after that was easy pickings for the rest. My own blade was beyond saving, but I gained a new one and the legend-mark Iceblade."

[insatiably]

The story distracts him completely from the cold as he pictures this hold she's describing and the dragonlings she faced. A whole swarm! Lucky woman. If he can't find a real dragon to face, he'll take a swarm of the little ones.

"Brilliant!" he exclaims at the end. There are so many questions he wants to ask, like who is the Lady, and what competition was going on, and what exactly is a spirit warrior? But all these he holds back on to try and stay focused.

"Ice-bridge doesn't have the same ring as Iceblade. It's good they went with the latter. It is an incredible sword." He leans back a bit for a better look. "Does your mother tell that tale all the time? I know my mother would."

[iceblade]

Skadi grins at his reaction, not one for false modesty. Give credit where it's due, right? She takes the blade from her back, letting him have a better look. "It's called Hakkon's Valor, after Hakkon Wintersbreath, god of war and winter. It's serve me well, in the Frostbacks and across the Waking Sea."

At mention of her mother, she shrugs. "I hope so? She would have preferred me to follow in her footsteps as a skadl, but earning my legend-mark seemed to convince her I knew what I saw doing. I had to leave, not long after."

She frowns, showing the green light flickering in her palm.

[insatiably]

Unable to help himself, he runs gloved fingers across the center of the blade, amazed as how smooth it is when it really appears to be a hunk of whittled ice.

"I've never seen its like before," he remarks, before putting his hand on the pommel of his sword, safely tucked into its scabbard. "It puts mine to shame!" His sword is Antivan made, highly decorated with volcanic aurum that resembles gold but is, of course, much stronger. It's the typical sword a nobleman would be given, but it has no name and no long history in the family. Julian isn't that attached to it, or his shield for that matter. "Very unique looking and it has a story behind how you got it."

His eyes take note of the green glow and he frowns slightly, the look altogether foreign on his face.

"I have heard of this, but had yet to see someone affected until now." He figures she's probably been asked Does it hurt? a thousand times, so he instead tries to lighten the mood.

"At least you don't need to light a candle if you need the chamberpot in the middle of the night, eh?"

[iceblade]

Taking pride in her blade and how it was earned, Skadi smiles as he praises it. She'll let him examine it a moment longer before returning it to her back, waiting for the usual questions or pity. It's nothing she has the patience for, so she's prepared to change the subject, only that question isn't quite shat she expected. A surprised laugh erupts, as she throws her head back.

"Aye, true enough! That's a pragmatic way of looking at it. I like you." She slaps a hand on his shoulder.

[insatiably]

"I figured you may as well make the best of it," he replies with a grin. "And I find I like you as well. I never expected to meet an Avvar warrior, but I'm all the more blessed for it." In Antiva, women are rarely warriors. Oh, there are some to be sure, but ordinarily their station in life is to remain dainty and pleasing to the eye. Julian's never seen a problem with this since his sisters enjoy being dainty little things, but it's good to get out and see how others live.

"We must share a drink, you and I, when we make camp. I would enjoy an exchange of stories."

[iceblade]

"As would I! I told one, so I believe it's your turn. You know, I've never actually been to Antiva. The closest I've been would be an island off Rivain, and that's a tale that can wait for my own turn." Still, she's heard some good things about Antiva. The wine and the charm already meet with her approval, even if their land would be far too hot for her blood.

[insatiably]

"Oh, you must go someday! Antiva is a beautiful nation. The air is fragrant with flowers and the wine flows freely. I'd say we are a far more relaxed land that some others. Orlesians? Terribly uptight and snobbish. Nevarrans? Far too dour and focused on corpses. In Antiva we party, we have a good time, and we love life." If Julian must give his heart to anything, it would be to Antiva itself.

"It's too bad Satinalia is past us now. We celebrate for at least a week."

[iceblade]

"D'you have hangovers for a week, too? I hear that's a common fate, for lowlanders." Skadi flashes a grin, unable to hold back from teasing. Antivans may love their wine, but she's outdrank everyone her size or below. Getting lowlanders suckered into drinking contests might just be one more source of income.

[insatiably]

Julian laughs heartily at that. "Indeed it is, but Antivans have turned it into an art form. You would be amazed at all we can do through a hangover. It's a natural state of being." And now he sidles up closer like he's about to reveal something that no one else should hear.

"But we also have a great secret: you can never be hungover in the first place if you never stop drinking." He touches a finger to his nose and winks.

[iceblade]

That gets a chuckle out of her. "I like the way you think, though wine is one thing and Avvar mead...quite another. I once saw a Tal-Vashoth sway, after trying to hold our brew down, during a drinking contest. It ended in a draw, since they both passed out. If that isn't a compliment, I don't know what is! Did you ever try their own drink? I forget what it's called, but it's on the level of ours."

[insatiably]

"I can't say I have, but only because I don't know who a Tal-Vashoth is! Would you be so good as to enlighten me on the subject?" He offers her a charming grin to make up for his ignorance.

[iceblade]

Skadi's eyebrows raise at that. "You know, the big horned folk that left the Qunari? I though they were more of a presence in the north. Finding one as far south as our hold was a big surprise."

[insatiably]

"Ah, I have yet to have the pleasure of moving in the same circles as them," he says with good humor. "A failure on my part, as I admire those who have left that life. I didn't know they had a special name either. The things I have learned today!" He commits the name to memory, knowing it's something an Antivan such as himself should be aware of, but simply never having met one before, he had no idea.

"And what was the Tal-Vashoth doing that far south?"

[iceblade]

"Ah, he had become a trader and came to us with items we couldn't get on our own. Usually, we trade with dwarven merchants acting as a middleman for Orzammar. Still, this was a chance to see some more exotic wares. He left on good terms, so here's hoping he makes a return visit."

[insatiably]

"And here's hoping he's learned to better hold his Avvar mead, hm?" Julian chuckles, knowing full well that if the stuff is as strong as she says, he wouldn't be able to handle it the first time around. Still...

"You wouldn't happen to have any of that mead with you, would you?" He'll try anything once.

[iceblade]

"Alas, no." Skadi sighs, as clearly this is the most tragic thing ever. "What I have left is stashed in my room back at the Gallows. I plan to send for more, but it'll not be cheap or convenient. When it does happen, I can look you up, though."

[insatiably]

"If I might donate any funds to help the acquisition be any easier, please let me know." He doesn't mind handing out coin like this, and if a person takes the money and runs, it's simply a lesson learned to not give to that person again. Julian is luckily wealthy enough that lost funds aren't a great blow to him by any means.