Party Banter Meme

[faderifting]

In the Dragon Age games, as you travel Thedas with your best pals, they have a lot of short conversations about politics, the weather, butts, etc. So this is the Fade Rift equivalent, in four easy steps!

1. Imagine your characters are on a very long walk toward a mission objective, or on a very long walk back after kicking ass, or standing guard together, or gathering herbs, or working in the library late at night, or something. Anything sort of boring that might make people want to have a dumb conversation just to break things up a bit.

OPTIONAL ASSISTANT: Since so many people reported being out of it, we made a random generator to help you come up with some general banter prompts for your top-levels.

2. Post a few remarks your character might say (similar to TFLN, except spoken out loud and less ridiculous and sexy, maybe. maybe not. we don’t know your life) while passing the time.

3. Tag around to reply to those general remarks or to start new/wildcard conversations! Threads should be pretty short and involve minimal action; there’s no need to turn anything into a big production. Multiperson threads are encouraged. Series of conversations between the same two characters occurring on different days are also encouraged.

4. Gather up all of your little conversation snippets like a bouquet and keep them forever, because they’re game canon. Banter threads can't be used for Base AC, but do count towards AC Rewards points.

Comments

v

[unshut]

I have not yet had the pleasure of the story, no. Please - regale me.

[gentlecountry]

Well, now. Firsts of all, I have to preface the whole thing with a sorts of a disclaimers; which is that if you knows anythings at all about Orzammar is that once you sees the sun, they more less don'ts give a fart whether you lives or dies. Very few exceptions.

[He clears his throat]

So I came on up outs of Orzammar, and founds myself immediatelies in needs of work. Now I'm a lucky dwarf beings that I am generalies quite healthy and maybe I don'ts much knows how to fight, but I do know hows to kill to protect livestocks, which amounts to a useful shortshand in a pinch. So I gets me a job as a caravan guard for this pack of idiots known as mummers.

Er... you do knows what a mummer is, rightly?

[unshut]

Oh yes, of course. I am thoroughly acquainted with the breed.

[gentlecountry]

Right. Well, sos I'm looking after this packs of idiots, stone bless their dramatical little hearts, trying to keeps 'em mostly outs of trouble. We're doings a tour rounds west Antiva when we happens to sets up camp, nots that we knew it, pert near on top of a opening what eventually leads down to the Deep Roads.

See, now Darkspawns has a way sometimes of sneaking up ons you and bitings you in the arse, so's to speak, but in this instance I gots lucky enough to notice the silted sod before he gets to the points of it. So I turns and, quick as you like, I punches him right in his face as hard as dwarvensly possible. Now I don't minds telling you, I can hit a feller fairly hard when I've gots a mind to, and the darkspawns, he falls over straight on dead right on the spots.

So I'm sittings there on the ground, my knuckles all sliced up, on accounts of your average Darkspawns having more fangs than six other creatures combineds, and my hands is turning grey. Turns out, Darkspawns spits is full of Blight, wouldn't you guess. It hurt worse than almost anything's ever hurt before or since.

I cried. I'm not even ashamed to admits it.

So then I passes out and when I woke up, there was this Warden bendings over me, trying to gets me to completes the Joining ceremony, sorts of....last ditch kinds of thing. Turns out, it took! And here I am today, Warden-Constable Bjurnsen. I still gots the scar, if you'd likes to see.

[unshut]

I would be most delighted to witness them, Warden-Constable. I do enjoy a good bit of scar tissue. Very dramatic, all round.

—Though I'm quite sorry to hear Antiva offered you such a poor welcome. We are usually much better hosts, unless contracted otherwise.

[gentlecountry]

Oh I am well awares.

[He strips off his glove, and shows her the knuckles. They are indeed a mass of twisty scar tissue, of an ugly greyish color, like a bruise just before it properly purples.]

Spent most my career in Antiva. I likes the food, I likes the language, I likes the culture. First impressions isn't everything, you know.

[unshut]

[She takes his hand. It is an offer of examination which warrants doing properly, she thinks, only is promptly distracted. Fitcher brightens. In Antivan:]

Truly? How pleased I am to hear it! Do you still speak the language? I've become rusty.

[She is, but what a pleasure it is to say so.]

[gentlecountry]

[Barty's Antivan is as accented as his Common, though still quite understandable and delivered with great fluidity.]

Yes, ma'am, of course I do. Don't mind helping you keeps in practice, if you wanted. It's a pleasure to have the chance to speaks it.

[unshut]

[She laughs. It's a pleasingly low sound, punctuated by the cheerful clap of her other hand across his scarred one. In Antivan still:]

Please. My family spoke Trade first, so the whole thing has always been for me very secondary. But I'm fond and you know how it is - to be away from a place for some time and how kind it is to hear something that reminds you of it.

[With a last affirming pat to the knuckles, Fitcher releases his hand.]