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Fade Rift Mods ([personal profile] faderifting) wrote in [community profile] allthisshitisweird2019-01-22 11:09 pm
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TEST DRIVE MEME

TEST DRIVE MEME

While in some alternate, tidier timeline, the War against the Elder One ended years ago, you're not in that timeline. It's 9:45 and there's a war raging in northern Orlais between the Inquisition and its allies and the army of demon-bound Wardens, Red Templars, Venatori loyalists, and darkspawn Corypheus has amassed over the last four years. Rifts are still scattered across the continent, periodically spitting out strangers from strange worlds with green-glowing anchors embedded in their hands. There's no Herald of Andraste to save Thedas. Someone else is going to have to do it.

Under the leadership of the Herald's advisory council and Seeker Pentaghast, the Inquisition remains in Skyhold and manages an army of thousands. But you're not going to Skyhold. You've been assigned to the Inquisition's outpost in Kirkwall, one occupying an island fortress called the Gallows—formerly a Circle of Magi, more formerly a prison for slaves, but the Inquisition has done a good job removing the more grotesque reminders of that past and making the place livable.

Maybe it's an honor; they're doing important work. Maybe it's an insult; they're rumored to be a lot of weirdos and troublemakers. Or maybe you're a rifter and just going where the nice people with swords tell you that you need to go.


I. THE GALLOWS: Welcome to the Inquisition. Here's a broom, and there's a mess: a shattered window, a splintered pile of wood where a wardrobe was thrown out that window into the frost-encrusted courtyard, a whole shelf of jars containing rat hearts and deathroot and other miscellanea that exploded like firecrackers. The Gallows doesn't house much in the way of a cleaning staff, so it's up to whoever doesn't have anything better to do, and whether you like it or not, at the moment that person is you.

The source of the mess—an apparent invasion of ghostly spirits—has already been dealt with, but a door might still slam, and the shards of glass might still rattle. It's harmless, though. Probably.

II. KIRKWALL: The Marquis d'Lussard is very heavy, as you discover when it becomes your job to fetch him from the Hanged Man, where his sightseeing tour has ended in a drinking contest that he decidedly lost. Now he's swinging between unconsciousness and mumbled drinking songs, apparently a hugger when he has control of his arms, and heavy. He's also, diplomatically speaking, worth his weight in gold, so getting him back to the Gallows' guest quarters in one piece is worth the effort.

That means making your way through the streets of Lowtown and down to the Gallows at night, on ice-patched streets, with a masked Orlesian nobleman whose entire slumping, singing presence screams please rob me blind. Try to resist any and all urges to drop him into things, including ditches, uncovered drops into Darktown, and the harbor.

III. THE WAKING SEA: The island is too small to have a name, a dot of land off of Kirkwall's Wounded Coast that's traditionally only seen use by fishermen who wanted a guarantee they wouldn't be hassled for a few days. But in more recent years, it's been a permanent home to someone, people say, until the last few months, when the nightly fires stopped appearing. Nervous whispers from the coastal bandits and explorers who ventured out to see if its resident left anything worth stealing have reached the ears of Provisional Viscount Bran Cavin, and as a personal favor to him, the Inquisition is sending a couple of people to have a look.

And here's what you're looking at: a rocky, sandy stretch of land with a few dozen scraggly trees, each of them decorated with dolls in various styles, in various states of decay. All of them give off energy—some friendly, some malevolent, some despairing—and if you're very quiet, it's possible they whisper. Or maybe that's the wind through the masts of a nearby shipwreck. Either way, they're definitely home to bound spirits, and probably more than one spider.

There are more in the wooden hut at the island's center, which is also where the bones and tattered robes of the island's former occupant can be found. (There's no sign of blood magic or ill intent. Just a lot of dolls. Everyone needs a hobby.) Box them, burn them, have a funeral or don't. As long as someone can tell the Viscount that he doesn't have to add an island of possessed dolls to Kirkwall's list of tourist attractions/nightmare fuel, the mission will be a success.

IV. SEND A MESSAGE: Each member of the Inquisition (or rifter, or ally) is assigned a blue crystal, small enough to wear around the neck, that can transmit voice messages, as well as an enchanted book tied to that crystal that can be used to exchange written messages. They're secure enough to discuss the war, if you'd like to get down to business, but loosely controlled enough to ask a question or play a game with only a few rolled eyes from people who hate fun.

V. WILDCARD: From the Gallows' library to the pirate islands off the coast, from Hightown's high-priced market stalls to the frostbitten frontlines of the war, Thedas is yours to explore.

shri: (» oh I'll leave you for dead)

[personal profile] shri 2019-02-06 08:42 am (UTC)(link)
Neither, but it does make the shopping annoying.

A hunter of monsters? Are you a Knight?


[ Haha, Lakshmi no one thinks its funny. ]
bleidd: (ydren.)

[personal profile] bleidd 2019-02-06 08:55 am (UTC)(link)
you'll always find someone who cares more about gold than the person giving it to them.

no, just a witcher. a professional monster hunter.
reshapes: ([027])

[personal profile] reshapes 2019-02-06 03:03 pm (UTC)(link)
One of my many skills, I assure you.
chainlightning: (❧ up)

the waking sea.

[personal profile] chainlightning 2019-02-06 06:06 pm (UTC)(link)
The fact that Merrill has been sent to the creepy doll island is, in her mind, vengeance for the fact that she wasn't in the Gallows during the Ghost Incident. It's extremely creepy, and Merrill has given every doll they've passed a side-eye.

...Still. She can't help but snort slightly when Geralt mentions magic and monsters. She raises her staff slightly, almost like a nod. "There usually is," she says simply. It's Thedas - as much as the Chantry fears magic, it's still everywhere. Especially in little out-of-the-way places.

"Probably whoever was living here," Merrill murmurs, carefully stepping around sharp rocks with her bare feet. She's briefly distracted by the glowing runes, but refocuses on the dolls, ignoring the whispers that pass through in the wind. "They could have been attracted to the shipwreck."
krem: (CA03058)

[personal profile] krem 2019-02-07 11:48 pm (UTC)(link)
At first, he thinks he is imagining it, but as he lingers it seems impossible that the sound isn't as real as himself or her or the tickle of a tiny spider's legs making their way over one of his cheeks. He swipes the thing off as he leans away again, looking possibly more baffled than when he had asked in the first place. It takes him a few seconds before it dawns and he asks, "did you come through a rift?"

Surely if there had been some way to learn this... not-magic magic as just anyone, every single Soporati in Tevinter would have been desperate for tutelage. Or, the right bonds, which sounds a touch shady. You know, like, demon-adjacent—not that that would actually stop people.

Clearly.
bleidd: (blizzard.)

[personal profile] bleidd 2019-02-08 12:13 am (UTC)(link)
uh huh.
bleidd: (full moon.)

[personal profile] bleidd 2019-02-08 12:35 am (UTC)(link)
Optimistic. Fingers curl tighter around the hilt of his sword, leather creaking under the pressure. It'd be nice if that was the fact, that the dolls were made by a lonely man who wanted nothing more than some company. Even if the spirits came willingly they can't leave of this own will. Maybe it's because he is so old, lived to long in a crueler world than hers, that the hope in her eyes only makes him feel tired.

"Maybe," Geralt rolls his shoulders, stepping forward with slow, careful steps. For now, at least, there is no signs of any wraiths he can't rule them out quite yet. Not with so many spirits upon this island, trapped in fading shells of dolls. "But now they're trapped."
bleidd: (tawny owl.)

[personal profile] bleidd 2019-02-08 01:06 am (UTC)(link)
He snorts casting a glance behind himself at the elf. She is right.

Geralt moves forward, up the trail towards the hut that sits in the center of the island. They could have been attracted to the shipwreck, lured by the death and then trapped within the dolls. For what purpose? To ward off intruders? Dangerous.

"We should dispose of the dolls before we leave the island."
meds4sale: (Default)

[personal profile] meds4sale 2019-02-08 05:04 am (UTC)(link)
The Medicine Seller could have been sincerely enthused about Benedicts climbing for all anyone knew. He just looked and sounded Like That, regardless of whatever emotions stirred in his little heart.

"It seems, however, something heavier weighs on you than my return and your promotion," he continue, plucking the last shard from the floor. Because it was true - they hadn't been close. The Medicine Seller knew Benedict more by face and reputation than anything substantial and the same could be said on the other man's behalf as well.
shri: (Default)

[personal profile] shri 2019-02-08 11:15 am (UTC)(link)
That would as it turns out make you a very particular kind of Knight where I come from.

But you are well met, Witcher, then. There are plenty here that are glad for an extra pair of hands to work as long as it doesn't complain too much.
chainlightning: (❧ lost)

[personal profile] chainlightning 2019-02-08 05:50 pm (UTC)(link)
She nods, even knowing that the Rifter can't see it. It's dangerous work for two alone, but there are no towering Pride demons or gliding Despair demons. If they're very, very lucky, there's little more than wraiths and other weak spirits inside the dolls.

"One by one," she agrees and suggests all at the same time, voice quiet - she doesn't want the dolls to overhear. "That way, if the seal breaks and it's something terrifying, we're at least not out-numbered."

And if the seal doesn't break- then what? The spirits have been bound, which means they're likely going to be dangerous no matter what if they get free. Killing them seems the only option, but it pulls at her heartstrings a little.

"If the Veil is thin here, more will come," she adds, gesturing toward the shipwreck. "I haven't seen a rift on the island, so... we might have to go look at the wreck."
bleidd: (thunderbolt.)

[personal profile] bleidd 2019-02-10 10:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The irony being he has been knighted before, though quickly abandoning those duties for more important things. ]

where you come from must not need my kind if knightly duties include the hunting of monsters.

as luck would have it i have never been known to complain much. and you may call me geralt, if you wish, geralt of rivia.
bleidd: (thunderbolt.)

[personal profile] bleidd 2019-02-10 10:48 pm (UTC)(link)
"Agreed."

Better to do this slowly than allow themselves to be overwhelmed. He knows very little of her skill set, so if battle were to break out his attention would be divided in combating the threat and keeping her safe. The Witcher breathes in, sharp cat-like eyes flicking towards the shipwreck.

The rifts, portals of a kinda that seem to attract all manner of spirits and demons. He understands them to a point, knows he doesn't like them, much like any other portal he has encountered over the years. If there is one around they have to close it, don't they? Geralt nods, shifting his path towards he shipwreck. A shame he hasn't any dimeritium bombs─ though he isn't certain they would work on the rifts.

"We'll check their first, if there is a right we close it. Then we can deal with the dolls."
altusimperius: (what the shit)

[personal profile] altusimperius 2019-02-11 06:28 pm (UTC)(link)
"What?"
Benedict stiffens, casting a vaguely offended look the Medicine Seller's way; but he calms, because there's no reason to prove the man right just by reacting. "No. Don't be ridiculous."
aerifor: (17)

Aerifor "Definitely Not Mahariel" || Native OC

[personal profile] aerifor 2019-02-13 12:26 am (UTC)(link)
II. Kirkwall- the Hanged Man

Aerifor isn't here for any shem babysitting, he's just here to look for merc work. Actually he's here to get wasted, but you know, a job opportunity wouldn't go wasted.

He looks really Dalish(with the facial tattoos), but the heavy armor, dual greatswords, and the being PRETTY BIG for an elf might throw you off before you get a good look at him. Either way, it's obvious this dude is a merc out here to have a good time, but he's not having a great time when some human fool in a mask gets real drunk and starts getting too close. Close enough for hugging, and THAT'S FAR TOO MUCH.

Sop who's the one babysitting the Orlesian lush, because now drunk and angered by the unwanted friendliness, Aerifor has fully picked up this rich dude and is not more than a few seconds away from tossing him, no doubt starting something awful with this nobleman.

III. The Wounded Coast

Dolls. Of course it's dolls, because it has to be. Nothing can be normal with shems. Nothing. Never. Aerifor is so tired, but a job is a JOB and if that means dealing with some weird haunted doll island, then okay, fine.

Now, how do you deal with ghosts? You can't hit them with your oversized swords and that's a pain, so the best thing he can think of to do is just clean this place the hell up. This could be a neat escape honestly, if not for the ghost dolls, but that does mean moving the dolls elsewhere. He's thinking some shem city that he doesn't have to live in for awhile, and so you may come across some giant elf in heavy armor with a woven grass basket on his back like a backpack absolutely full of dolls. Just every doll he's found so far, and he's continuing to pick them up as he goes before noticing someone who noticed him, scowling at them.

"What? You got a better idea?" Of course they don't, this idea is perfect and cannot be improved upon in any way.

IV. Message

hey who can i stab for money around here i'm getting bored and also tired of stale bread

X. WILDCARD

No matter where you might be, here's a REALLY BIG BUFF ELF in heavy, dusty red armor. He might even resemble a short Qunari before you realize his Definitely Dalish Facial Tattoos, but hey. He's not judging you for looking the way you look! Unless you are human, then he's definitely judging.

Also he may or may not be picking fights just to see if anyone would throw money at him for it, so hit him up anywhere you'd like.

[OOC: feel free to hmu here or at [plurk.com profile] decathect if you wanna hash anything out/ask questions.]
Edited 2019-02-13 00:26 (UTC)
krem: (CA32374)

II

[personal profile] krem 2019-02-13 01:29 am (UTC)(link)
Krem took his eyes off the Marquis for what feels like one minute maximum and he's already getting (probably deservedly) manhandled by an armed and armored stranger, isn't that just his luck?

He makes a beeline for them, having been trying to negotiate his astronomical tab with the bartender, reaching up to grab at the back of the Orlesian's collar in order to at least stop him from getting whipped clear across the room if he can't de-escalate this fast enough. Normally he wouldn't be so bold as to just grab rich clients, but there is literally no way Marquis d'Lussard isn't fully black-out drunk right now. What he doesn't remember can't hurt Krem's sterling reputation.

This shockingly buff elf, however... "Sorry, I can see he's been bothering you."
aerifor: (dEsTrOY)

[personal profile] aerifor 2019-02-13 01:51 am (UTC)(link)
This Marquis is already lifted over his head at this point and definitely about the be yeeted across the bar when someone does stop him.

"Ah, a shem with eyes, how novel!" In his defense, Aerifor is also drunk. He would probably at least rob the guy first if he were sober, but here we are. The Orlesian nobleman may or may not just think he is flying. Or falling. Either way, there is a lot of yelling.

"Tell me, do you want for me to not break this man in half like a brittle winter twig?"
chainlightning: (❧ rueful)

[personal profile] chainlightning 2019-02-13 05:44 pm (UTC)(link)
"I can't help close it," Merrill warns, even as she follows. "Not without a shard. But if it's too large for you to close, then we'll at least know where it is and can go get others to help."

It's perhaps more than the original mission, but it's important. The Viscount will be pleased either way, and they can't let a rift just sit out there - or let possessed dolls sit out there, either.

A bit of spiderweb crawls across the rocks they're passing. Merrill grimaces and carefully picks her way around it, refusing to let any of the sticky material touch her bare feet.

"Spirits and spiders. Lovely."
krem: (CA11232)

[personal profile] krem 2019-02-16 01:45 am (UTC)(link)
"Would really appreciate being able to return him in one piece so I can get paid," he shouts as well as he can above the Marquis' caterwauling without seeming aggressive. Clearly, this guy is not in the mood to live and let live right now, and Krem isn't all that keen on throwing down in the middle of a mission. He has a reputation for actually being capable of carrying out simple jobs to maintain after all. Come on Aerifor, help a guy out!

"I'll pay for your next round, how's that?" And good luck to everyone else in the tavern about to be stuck with an even drunker version of this elf, honestly. RIP.
blood_royal: (pic#10734905)

Zuko | Avatar: The Last Airbender (AU Native)(renamed Dante probably)

[personal profile] blood_royal 2019-02-17 11:07 am (UTC)(link)
The Gallows

Well, his life hasn't really been privileged in quite a while, but having lived in a Circle tower for most of the last few years Dante is much more accustomed to spending his time in the library or training, not doing menial tasks. That's what Tranquil are for, and he was supposed to be here to do something important. Isn't that why he'd been sent?

The one who gives him the order doesn't stick around, though, so Dante turns his attention to the debris. He absolutely does not intend to cart any of it anywhere, so while he does make a token effort to round it all up into a single pile, once that's done he sets the whole thing ablaze with an impatient wave of his hand. Ashes will blow away in the wind, and the remains will be easier to move.
blood_royal: (pic#10734905)

III

[personal profile] blood_royal 2019-02-17 11:13 am (UTC)(link)
"Why are you bringing them with you?" Dante is typically a scout, and in this case it's roughly half of why he's come along, but on the off chance the island actually does house spirits it's useful to have a mage close at hand. "Let me burn them and be done with it."
blood_royal: (pic#10734910)

iii | forgive me if this thread is too old to reply to jsndsj

[personal profile] blood_royal 2019-02-20 05:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Dante is standing on his tip-toes, reaching out to prod at one of the hanging dolls with a blade. He's an odd mage, carrying a set of long rogue's daggers rather than a staff, though he seems quite proficient with them. Less so with raw magical power, though.

He looks towards her at the question. "Are you sure?" His Tevinter accent is poorly concealed; it's why he keeps to himself. As soon as he asks the question, though, the doll he's been touching crumples, dumping centuries-old dust and rotted stuffing onto his head. He yelps in surprise, dropping the knife and swiping frantically at his head to get the mess off of him.
smiteproof: (pic#12122593)

Adrian Rowan / D&D oc / Rifter.

[personal profile] smiteproof 2019-03-01 12:30 am (UTC)(link)
I. GALLOWS.
There is a mess, a broom, and a well armored man who looks about as confused as he does exhausted. He exhales, hand coming to run through a mop of messy brown hair. Gods, does his head hurt. It isn't the first time headaches have crippled him, he can remember exactly two times prior to this that his head felt as though it was about to explode. However neither of those were caused by being thrown out of some sort of portal, ambushed by demons, and saved by the Inquisition. (That's what they called themselves.)

Those were different sorts of headaches, the sort Adrian would rather not revisit anytime soon.

With a sort of sigh of resignation he moves towards the mess, bending down beside the mess of what was someone's component jar, nudging the scattered contents with a gloved finger. Rat hearts, some sort of herbs - fimilar yet unfamiliar at the same time. Be a waste if he just leaves them here. He puts aside the broom then, picking up the contents and shaking them of dirt and glass, before pocketing them into a small pouch on his hip.

As he does, Adrian sighs once more, mumbling: "I need a drink."

II. KIRKWALL.
This is more like it. Despite the fact he is very much aware the job is to escort the particularly large and rather drunk man back to the Gallows, Adrian decides not to, not straight away. In fact he makes it his mission to becoming chummy with the Marquis, drinking a few rounds with him before challenging him to a card game. Adrian, of course, manages to win without even having to cheat, reliving his charge of a few gold coins.

This, naturally, gains the attention to few of the other patrons, who gravitate towards their table taking up the opportunity for a little but of light-hearted gambling. It's where you find Adrian, and a rather passed out Marquis, some hours later. Table surrounded by a crowd of patrons, as he smoothly lays his cards out on the table. His opponent curses loudly ("Maker's Balls!") as the small crowd cheers, Adrian leaning back in his chair.

"It seems, my good sir, that I have beaten you once again."

III. WILDCARD.
Come at me. ;)
Edited 2019-03-01 01:32 (UTC)
mauks: art by <user name="thealeksdemon" site="twitter.com"> (the CHARIOT.)

Mollymauk Tealeaf / Critical Role / Rifter.

[personal profile] mauks 2019-03-01 01:19 am (UTC)(link)
I. GALLOWS.
And among the mess, a man stands in a multi colored coat. Well, he looks like a man. One with horns and purple skin, although for a moment you might think that this man may actually be a woman considering how thin he is in comparison to the other Qunari (though he insist he is a Tiefling) you may have seen. But in truth the coat is likely going to be the thing that catches your attention more, long and bright and demanding to have you pay attention to it.

Then it's the tattoo that adorns his neck, curling up onto his cheek, a bright depiction of peacock feathers than disappear into his colorful coat. That's odd, isn't it? Qunari don't adorn themselves in tattoos stereo-typically, or wear bright coats that screams for attention. Yet here one stands, head cocked to the side jewelry adorning his curved horns jiggling slightly with the motion.

Who would have thought the second time he clawed his way out of his own grave (that's what happened, right?) Mollymauk Tealeaf would have to trivial responsibility of cleaning thrust upon him. He certainly didn't. He waits, wide smile upon his lips, until the person, who had gifted him the broom, disappears before handing it off to the nearest person - "Terribly sorry, I have something important to take care of." - before walking away, waving a tattooed hand at the poor unfortunate soul.

Important things, yes, like finding the nearest bar.

II. WAKING SEA.
"This is a little morbid, isn't it?"

Firstly, Mollymauk isn't so certain he likes boats. Or the ocean for that fact. Secondly, dolls hanging from seemingly dead trees is frankly unsettling. He glances over at his company, one hand resting on top of a scimitar hanging from his waist. The sooner they get this done the better, right? There is a comfortable bed and wine waiting for them back at the city, and Mollymauk hadn't finished enjoying both when he was pulled onto this mission.

III. WILD CARD.
You know the drill.
Edited 2019-03-01 01:29 (UTC)
swordproof: (017)

OH BOY

[personal profile] swordproof 2019-03-01 08:07 am (UTC)(link)
Six’s return to training has been a slow yet steady process. With her leg mangled she had been forced to rest for what felt like far too long, her attention elsewhere - helping, supporting, doing what she could in other ways... And delivery missions. Being back in the Gallows now is a kind of delight she had never thought to be so wonderful; being able to train again, to feel her strength grow, to feel the strain in her muscles... It makes her smile, content.

She’s completely lost in her work, moving and pressing, hefting her greatsword with the kind of strength that she had worked on for years. She doesn’t notice the comings and goings of people until there’s something like a chill on the back of her neck, skin pricking a little before she breathes out, turning her hair. With her hair braided and her armour on she can feel herself stand tall, as a threat, but she stops when she realises what it is.

A ghost. A spirit. A flicker of memory from the weakening of the Veil.

Gritting her teeth, Six holds back the tide of emotions and forces herself to be calm. Her blade is put away. Her eyes are forced to remain dry. She can tackle this, she tells herself, another spirit come to claim her. She doesn’t note the glow of green in his hand, nor the way her Mabari is not concerned by his presence, as if he were alive and not dead.

“Adrian.” Voice soft, quiet: sad. “You should not be here.”

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