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

[reposing]

No shortage of opinions. Considering her initial impression she's given, Alucard certainly doesn't doubt that. In normal circumstances, he can manage to be polite, but he is far, far from a typical arrangement. Everything now feels so ... urgent. Not that he expects anyone to truly understand the purpose of it.

"People of your larger known nations, since the general opinion of them seems to be much the same. I do not count Tevinter or the Qunari, their matters another topic entirely. Primarily, the mages who were part of the initial rebellion, whether by choice or otherwise. What is your perception of the war they have been involved in recently, and the matters concerning them now? What do you think their ultimate fate should be? What do the Templars mean to you?"

Too much. It reminds him too much of the Church, and it is frustrating.

[elegiaque]

“Ah,” she says, quiet and wry in a way that's more measured than dismissive—when she sits again it's opposite him, folding her hands over the bound paper, “those matters.”

A promising enough line of inquiry that her patience, at least, is less short than it has been before. Whether or not his lasts will be another story entirely, probably, but she can't possibly be unused to the first impression she makes, and the presumably frequent results. All the same...well, if he wants the big picture, she's not so terrible a source as she might first seem.

(If there's any surprise to her in her social circle in Kirkwall, it's probably how large it is.)

“I think someone who'll confidently give you a pat answer as to what the ultimate fate of an entire group of disparate people across several nations should be is not to be trusted,” she says, frank. “Particularly as there's no resolution to that rebellion, nor the war that's sprung from it. Templars as a legitimate order of the Chantry no longer exist, much good it does you to tell them so when you've got former Templars swanning about here and there as if their ranks mean anything.”

They do not, in her opinion. Her opinion of Templars has, on the whole, lowered significantly in the last several years.

“When it all began? Mages had always been in Circles. That's where they go. My uncle was taken to the Circle before I was born, when he was a boy, and he wrote letters home and I don't remember questioning it, particularly. I imagine it was more than most families would have, of their mages.”

Even in a Circle, it wasn't nothing to be a human man of noble birth, with a family still interested in his wellbeing; his name had had currency there. More than some.

“Templars were knights who protect mages, and protect the rest of us from mages, and that was simply how it was. Several years of having the whole lot of them tearing up the countryside rather took the bloom off that rose for a lot of people, I have to think. I don't think most people have a particularly nuanced view of the politics or personal experiences involved—it has to be difficult to take a moment to consider the complexity of the struggles at play when standing in the wreckage of your home or your village. Which isn't to say that they aren't complex. Well, the opposite; it's tempting to be simplistic. Black and white in one's thinking. This is good, this bad, we'll kill all these people because they're the bad ones, or we'll kill all of them because fuck it, look at the mess they've made, or—”

She shrugs. “Personally, I think the Chantry has much to answer for that it probably won't.”

[reposing]

Quite honestly, despite her initial response, her answer is entirely frank and to the point, which is refreshing and welcoming. While Alucard knows he has his own judgments from mere research and interaction after the fact, he also is aware he is a complete outsider dragged into this world. He can only bear his own experiences, which tells him that the Chantry is indeed a mess and better off ignored.

As she speaks, Alucard is writing in a small booklet, frowning thoughtfully. He's taken his own personal notes after reading, and while he does have faith in his ability to remember he'd rather have references for his own sake. It never hurts to be overly prepared, especially if he has no choice but to be here.

"I concur. It is always the desire for the mind to equate things to simple matters. Who is good, who is wicked. Who must be killed or punished. Those in power find they want to lord over others."

But that's neither here nor there.

"You are likely right about the Chantry," Alucard agrees grimly, frowning to himself. There is a part of him who would like to see justice done, but it is not for him to grasp on the behalf of others. It is not his calling.

"I recognize that the Inquisition has many goals it wishes to accomplish. It is a diverse organization, and I do respect that." More than he could have expected out of any world worth mentioning. "After it accomplishes in restoring perceived order, what do you think might be the fate of the Inquisition?"

[elegiaque]

In Gwenaëlle's view, it is perfectly in keeping with how she responded; she made her time conditional on his not being too much of an idiot to waste it on, and he hasn't turned out to be an idiot. Ergo. Not irrelevant that while most people might feel similarly, they'd also probably have sufficient tact not to put it that way to someone directly—she is habitually frank and to the point, to the point of rudeness.

The sort of person who wonders what the fuck she'd want with flies anyway, exactly, when it's suggested honey might serve better than vinegar.

“Hard to say,” she says, thoughtfully, tapping the folded edge of the papers in her hands against the table in an idle inability to be entirely still. “It came together for a very specific purpose, under unclear and disputed leadership—it's going to depend on who's sitting in what seat when the music stops, to be perfectly frank. Most especially, the sunburst throne. A secure Chantry might well absorb the Inquisition, the way the Seekers were born historically from the previous one. They might dissolve it entirely. Your presence complicates it, again, of course; rifters are a divisive issue and inextricably bound to the question of the Inquisition as a whole, now.”