allthisshitisweird | TEST DRIVE MEME

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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!

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I. Gallows

[ Aro is singularly uninterested in the Inquisition. He'd arrived, marked up with green magic in his hand, and they'd no sooner taken him back to explain what was happening than they'd arranged to recruit him as one of their men! He'd managed to navigate that system without causing a fuss, but he has absolutely no intention of doing what he's told. His thoughts are already on home, on how he can get back.

At least, they will be, once he's worked out what to do about Iessa.

She walks beside him, a wyrmling dragon with webbed feet, around the size of a wolf. Her scales are greenish yellow now, but he knows they'll darken to bronze before long. He absolutely has to get her home. He's stopped by the waterside on his way away from the fortress.
This will do. Go under, see if you can find a cave. I'll wait, I promise.

[ This, because she clearly doesn't want to leave him. She trusts this new world about as much as he does. After a bit of coaching, she finally dives down, and Aro drops down to sit on the rocks by the edge. After a moment, he casts a brief spell, and the dark crystal around his neck glows. An orb of light appears and sinks beneath the water, following Iessa's path. He shoots the occasional furtive eye around, wary of being caught short, but for the most part his attention is on the wyrmling. ]

Come on, Iessa. [ He murmurs, guiding the orb lower. ] I need to get out of here.

II. Kirkwall

[ Cities are really not Aro's favourite places to be. He might have changed worlds, but it seems that some things stay the same. Kirkwall is as full of bustling people caught up in their own lives as any place in his own world.
He has absolutely no intention of staying here. He needs to be here, though, both to gather information about this new world - information that doesn't come from the mouths of those in charge, at least - and to earn what he needs to support himself. After all, he has two mouths to feed.

He ignores the taverns and the merchants. He's looking to earn coin, not fritter it away. After a bit of exploration, he settles cross-legged by the foot of one of the busier buildings in town. This place seems to get a lot of foot traffic, which is exactly what he's after. He sets down his mess tin, before pulling his flute from his pack and settling to play. It's an old song Elven song, one his father had taught his mother, and which she had faithfully passed to Aro. He'd be shocked if anyone in this world recognised it, but to him, it sounds like home. He plays while he watches people go by, though he switches to something more cheerful if any children should happen to catch his eye. When people approach, he plays for them, and then stops to engage. ]

I would offer to take requests, but I don't think I'd know your songs. Sorry. I can try and learn some to play the next time I pass through.

[ He smiles, despite it being a promise he hopes he won't have to keep. ]

❰ adalia tends to spend most of her time in the gallows. it's a bleak place, and knowing its history she sort of hates it, but it's better than lowtown, in most ways. at least in the gallows she can trust that the inquisition as a whole knows not to fuck with charis, and the people aren't generally going to call her knife-ear. her ears aren't nearly as pointy as the native elves, but apparently that doesn't matter to anyone in lowtown. darktown isn't even worth considering as an option, and hightown won't even let her in. the gallows is, despite its disgusting history, the safest place for her and charis.

that doesn't mean she likes it, though. being effectively confined to a prison island doesn't feel super fucking great for her, and charis doesn't get to spread his wings nearly as much as she'd like. when they're not in the library, adalia tries to give him as much time outside as possible, but it always feels like a risky proposition, with how nervous the natives are about dragons.

today, though, she can't bring herself to keep charis cooped up any longer. they're on their way to the waterside when adalia notices a man turn ahead of them turn a corner, a long tail disappearing around it with him. a familiar tail, if in a different color. she and charis look at each other, blink a moment, and then speed up to catch up to the two.

when they turn the corner themselves, all they see is the man sitting on the rocks, and ripples in the water. ❱

Hey! Hey, goodsir, can I talk to you?

❰ charis chirps and trills loudly, doing his best to catch the man's attention for her. possibly this is not the best way to get a stranger's attention. possibly this is especially not the best way to get a stranger's attention if she was wrong and he doesn't have a dragon. she'd been so sure, though — ❱

[ Aro looks up, startled by the sudden appearance of anyone. Every excuse he'd imagined for his presence dies on his lips the moment he lays eyes on the dragon, a young one barely older than Iessa. That's the last thing he'd expected to see here. A native to this world, he wonders? If so, he might have to re-evaluate what he thinks of this place. ]

Ava'yorn.*

[ He says, and then looks up at the dragon's companion. On reflection, it may have been rude to address the dragon first. It's only now that he recognises her as an elf, on account of her ears. She looks like an elf from home. Could that be true, could he be that lucky? ]

Forgive me, your friend demands attention. [ He's clearly unafraid, even if his own dragon is still nowhere to be seen. ] We can speak, of course. What can I do for you?

[ * - Hello. ]

❰ adalia and charis both perk up at the draconic greeting, and charis whistles and chirrups excitedly in his own greeting. ❱

Ava'yorn! Wux renthisj Vs'shtak?

❰ the excitement of someone speaking a language she recognizes, from home is enough to distract adalia from her goal — but only for a moment. then she shakes her head, waving a hand in front of her. ❱

No, sorry, I mean, I'm so happy to meet someone else from Toril, but I had a different question, I just got distracted — Do you have a dragon? I thought I saw a tail when you were rounding the corner, and I got so excited, Charis hasn't had any other dragons to interact with —

❰ as she's speaking, charis flies over to the water, inspecting the fading ripples in search of whatever made them. ❱

Edited 2018-03-02 14:35 (UTC)

[ Aro can't help it. He breaks into a smile, eager and relieved. He's not about to get in trouble for letting Iessa dive underneath the island. More than that, she won't be alone here. That's unbelievable. He's never managed to encounter another dragon while travelling with her.

In fairness, that's partly design - he was never entirely sure how another adult would react to her - but this is different. He holds up his hand, conjuring another light. ]

I do. To both questions, actually, I just...

Give me a moment.

[ He sends the second light down. This one moves to catch up with the other, and then both beckon Iessa back to the surface. A few seconds later, she breaks through the water again, flying up to shoulder height before landing hard beside his feet. She shakes out her wings, water droplets reflecting in the sun. Her scales are greenish yellow, not yet rich enough to be called bronze. She's young, though. She'll get there.

Before Aro can even speak again, she's letting out an excited trill and rushing to investigate Charis. ]

Be careful! Ah...this is Iessa. She's never met another dragon before, so if she could be careful, my blood pressure would appreciate it.

[ Iessa shoots a little look at him, before focusing back on Charis. ]

Aro and Iessa have an audience.

A petite elven girl with a basket full of dried herbs slung over her shoulder has paused near the waterfront to watch the strange rifter and his even stranger dragon...ling... companion at their peculiar work. Wherever she was taking the herbs suddenly seems far less important than sorting out just what sort of magical ritual this fellow is concocting near the water.

She takes a few steps towards him, frowning crossly, and asks, "What are you doing?"

( >:c )

Aro jumps up the moment she speaks. He arranges his features into an approximation of innocence, which probably won't be that convincing given what she's just witnessed. How much has she witnessed, anyway? There's only one way to find out. He's really very keen not to cause any kind of trouble here when he's just arrived - and in fact, that's a general rule where Aro's concerned. Trouble does seem to have a way of finding him anyway, though.

"Nothing! Just admiring the view. I've never seen it before," he says, letting his hands rest on his hips. Does that look casual enough? He's definitely aiming for casual.

His eyes flick to the coastline, checking for any sign of Iessa. This would not be a wonderful time for her to break the surface again.

"Did I disturb you, good lady?"

Dubious, Fern folds her skinny arms over her chest and eyes Aro, not looking the slightest bit convinced of his innocence. Nothing? Uh huh.

"It's just Kirkwall," she tells him flatly, and gives a duh kind of gesture with one hand at what has become a very unimpressive (and, in fact, rather disliked) skyline visible across the water. "What's there to admire?" Unless you're a rich shem with access to Hightown, of course.

"Did I disturb you, good lady?"

Lady? That startles her, as it probably would any elf girl in Thedas. But she's quick to recover from it, adopting her cross look once more. "I dunno," she replies, jutting her chin out again in a decidedly do not trust you fashion. "Depends on what you're doing with your... pet... in the water." Yeah, she saw that.

Aro winces. So, she saw that, did she. Well, that's blown his cover. He sighs, and takes an automatic step to the side to cover the part of the water she'd gone into. A useless gesture now.

How in the world is he going to get out of this one?

"Look," he begins, holding up his hands. "I'm not doing anything with her, except lighting the way. If we're stuck here then she needs somewhere to stay, and I doubt she'll be overly welcome in there."

He gestures at the Gallows itself, at its...everything.

"And she's not my pet. Her kind aren't anyone's pets, believe me. But she won't hurt anyone, unless they're a danger to her. I promise."

A promise that's also a warning. Please don't be a danger to her, good Elf Lady.

( Really, Chance isn't sure what's worse, being a tiefling or being a qunari. Maybe being a Qunari, as at least other tieflings tended to be decent to each other. The Qunari here, though,see him as smaller than them already, despite his hulking mass over most the humans. Add onto that that he's not of the Qun or Tal'Vashoth... He's really not making friends among the Qunari.

As for others? Elves and humans alike in this city seem to give him a second glance, at best. It makes Chance think twice about leaving his lodgings. He needs food, though. Basic provisions. He could also do with maybe some books to help learn about the land. And really, Chance has never liked being holed up for too long.

So he's wandering the streets of low town, violin strung up on his back while he ignores the glares that some give him. He's silently grateful to those who outright ignore his presence, even if they're few and far between. He is still a towering being with horns and eyes that unnerve even the Qunari. Though the black doesn't extend to the edges of his eyes, his irises still retain their darkness. His eyes and horns are all that really remain to remind him he was once tiefling.

He sighs heavily as yet another store doesn't seem to have anything he's able to afford- something he's not entirely sure is by pure chance anymore- and steps out to the sound of a flute playing an all too familiar tune. An older, simpler one, but one the bard recognizes by sound even if the words escape him. He was never too good at elvish.

He wonders over towards the source of the sound, a half-elvhen boy sitting out on the streets hoping for coin. Carefully, he slides his violin off his back, waits for the right beat, then adds the string instrument's tones to the boy's flute. )

[ This is music Aro could get lost in. He never really had a particular place to call home, not with how often he'd always moved around. Home, to him, had been the companionship of his mother during the years they were together, and everything that reminds him of her makes him feel at home, no matter where he is. Even in another world entirely, though he never thought that was something he'd need to test himself on.

When Chance approaches, Aro's eyes are closed, and he's following the tune from memory. The violin picks it up so perfectly that at first, he doesn't even notice. Then he registers the quality of the strings, the extra depth they give to what he's doing. His eyes flicker open in surprise to fixate on the creature doing the playing. He misses a couple of notes in surprise, and hastily picks it up again.

He doesn't yet know enough about this world to identify the race of his new companion. His horns are shaped like a tiefling's, though. Interesting. Whatever he is, he seems to know Aro's Elven lullaby as well as Aro himself. As he plays out the final notes, he lets them fade into the air, and then lowers his flute to regard the other. ]

Thank you. It sounds better with two. I daresay we're the only two around here who know that song. You know any others?

( ooc note - changed violin to lute because practicality )

( With the tune completed, Chance takes the moment to sit next to the other man. He doesn't really ask if he's welcome or not, more just curious to follow this train of thought all the way through. )

I know many. ( He answers, a slight lilt in his head as he regards the half-elf. )

Did you learn that here? ( It's not a subtle probing question, even as Chance tries to phrase it as if it might be subtle. )

[ Aro smiles, wryly. If he'd learned it here, it could only have been from someone else from home. He shakes his head. ]

No. I'm not from around here. I daresay you aren't, either, or else you've met someone else from my home. In which case I'd have to ask you to point me towards them.

It's a folk song. I learned it from my mother.

[ He regards the stranger carefully, taking in his appearance. Appearances, in general, can be deceiving. He's canny enough to understand that. Just because the stranger doesn't look like he's from Aro's world, doesn't mean he can't be. ]

What about you?

[There's less distrust of magic here, Willem can tell— which is odd when balanced against the presence of monstrous demons as tall as towers. He'd come through the Rift into a place as alien as it was familiar. The carts and the horses that draw them are familiar enough. Jerkin and leather boots. But the luminous green mark on his hand, the enthusiasm with which they'd pulled him to his cause, set this place apart.

He's used to having to prove himself at least a little, even if it's not as bad as it is with paladins and all that. These days, he still doesn't know what he makes of New Briterica's widespread distrust of celestial magic, but he knows well enough to keep his own under wraps. And he's good at recognizing it when

ah.]

Bugger, [he exclaims, peeking at the concentric circles breaking where orb and dragon had vanished a moment ago. He's squarely behind the light-haired boy sitting down the incline, his lightly armored boots planted around a couple of daisies that don't deserve accidental rampage. There is a large sword strapped to his back. His hair is shooting out from his head as voluminously as ever, some twigs poking out of it-- leavings from battle.] Was that what I thought it was?

[ Aro jumps up, spinning to look at the stranger with wide eyes, and an expression very far short of approximating innocence. He tries to school it right away, squaring out his shoulders and clearing his throat. ]

Ah, the light?

[ No, Aro, of course he doesn't mean the light. Why in the world would he mean the light?

Let's just go with it anyway. ]

Just a simple bit of magic. Not very taxing, good for checking the depth of...things.

[ His eyes skate over the newcomer's armour and weapons, all of which is very intimidating. He hopes Iessa has the good sense to stay beneath the waves. ]

You look battle-ready. That's really not what I was going for, honestly.

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TEST DRIVE MEME

Arohaerd | D&D OC (Rifter)

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