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allthisshitisweird2020-04-24 01:58 pm
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Entry tags:
TEST DRIVE!
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, where the Chantry, aided by the Inquisition, marshalling Orlais and the faithful of Southern Thedas into a new Exalted March against 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.
You're part of (or allied with, recently hired by, imprisoned by, etc.) a new organization that's an offshoot of the Inquisition, dubbed Riftwatch, that consists mainly of the otherworldly new arrivals, rebels and Wardens, and other people who want to prevent the apocalypse without necessarily marching under the Chantry's banner to do it. Their headquarters is an island fortress called the Gallows—formerly a Circle of Magi, more formerly a prison for slaves, but its new occupants have done a good job removing the more grotesque reminders of that past and making the place livable.
Maybe you're here because you want to help. Maybe you need the money (though there isn't much of it). Maybe you acquired an anchor and sticking around is the only way to prevent your hand from falling off. Maybe you've been sent by the Chantry or some other entity to keep an eye on everyone—they're rumored to be a lot of weirdos and troublemakers. Or maybe you're a new rifter and just going where the nice people with swords tell you that you need to go.
I. THE CROSSROADS: This month, Riftwatch members are spending most of their free time in the Crossroads, a pocket of magic-infused reality that connects a network of magic-mirror portals, called Eluvians, that are scattered across Thedas. The roads between them have mostly crumbled, but sometimes the magic can be manipulated or a series of interconnected eluvians can allow reaching one of the ruined buildings or bridges that now hang like floating islands in the distance. The portion being explored now is also densely populated by spirits trying to fulfill some ancient purpose—which apparently largely entails annoying or embarrassing everyone they come across.
II. THE WESTERN FRONT: Riftwatch is no longer part of the Inquisition or directly engaged in the war that it, the Chantry's faithful Exalted Marchers, and Orlais are fighting against an invading Tevinter and Ander force in northern Orlais. But frequently enough, Riftwatch's business—delivering helpful intelligence, spending quality time with prisoners of war that might have information, assisting soldiers with a rift they've found too close to their camps, or passing through on the way somewhere else—requires spending time in camps. After a year, with the weather turning cold and a dragon occasionally hurtling overhead to breathe a few bursts of chaos onto the army in its sleep, morale is middling at best. But there's space around the campfires if you need it.
III. KIRKWALL: Even when enormous evil darkspawn are trying to take over the known world and you and your colleagues might be the only ones who can truly stop him, you can't work all the time. And when you aren't working, Kirkwall is there for you with its dingy Lowtown taverns, its flashy Hightown establishments, its market stalls and street musicians and cellars hosting gamblers. Or maybe you can work all the time, and you're in the city to do some official shopping, try to spy on a suspicious character, or show a potential financial backer a good time.
IV. SEND A MESSAGE: Each member of Riftwatch (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. BANTER: Sometimes the walk is long, the herb-cutting is dull, or the watchtower is quiet, and there's nothing to do but talk to the person next to you. So say something.
VI. WILDCARD: From the Gallows' library to the pirate islands off the coast, from Hightown's high-priced market stalls to the bloody frontlines of the war, Thedas is yours to explore.

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, where the Chantry, aided by the Inquisition, marshalling Orlais and the faithful of Southern Thedas into a new Exalted March against 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.
You're part of (or allied with, recently hired by, imprisoned by, etc.) a new organization that's an offshoot of the Inquisition, dubbed Riftwatch, that consists mainly of the otherworldly new arrivals, rebels and Wardens, and other people who want to prevent the apocalypse without necessarily marching under the Chantry's banner to do it. Their headquarters is an island fortress called the Gallows—formerly a Circle of Magi, more formerly a prison for slaves, but its new occupants have done a good job removing the more grotesque reminders of that past and making the place livable.
Maybe you're here because you want to help. Maybe you need the money (though there isn't much of it). Maybe you acquired an anchor and sticking around is the only way to prevent your hand from falling off. Maybe you've been sent by the Chantry or some other entity to keep an eye on everyone—they're rumored to be a lot of weirdos and troublemakers. Or maybe you're a new rifter and just going where the nice people with swords tell you that you need to go.
I. THE CROSSROADS: This month, Riftwatch members are spending most of their free time in the Crossroads, a pocket of magic-infused reality that connects a network of magic-mirror portals, called Eluvians, that are scattered across Thedas. The roads between them have mostly crumbled, but sometimes the magic can be manipulated or a series of interconnected eluvians can allow reaching one of the ruined buildings or bridges that now hang like floating islands in the distance. The portion being explored now is also densely populated by spirits trying to fulfill some ancient purpose—which apparently largely entails annoying or embarrassing everyone they come across.
II. THE WESTERN FRONT: Riftwatch is no longer part of the Inquisition or directly engaged in the war that it, the Chantry's faithful Exalted Marchers, and Orlais are fighting against an invading Tevinter and Ander force in northern Orlais. But frequently enough, Riftwatch's business—delivering helpful intelligence, spending quality time with prisoners of war that might have information, assisting soldiers with a rift they've found too close to their camps, or passing through on the way somewhere else—requires spending time in camps. After a year, with the weather turning cold and a dragon occasionally hurtling overhead to breathe a few bursts of chaos onto the army in its sleep, morale is middling at best. But there's space around the campfires if you need it.
III. KIRKWALL: Even when enormous evil darkspawn are trying to take over the known world and you and your colleagues might be the only ones who can truly stop him, you can't work all the time. And when you aren't working, Kirkwall is there for you with its dingy Lowtown taverns, its flashy Hightown establishments, its market stalls and street musicians and cellars hosting gamblers. Or maybe you can work all the time, and you're in the city to do some official shopping, try to spy on a suspicious character, or show a potential financial backer a good time.
IV. SEND A MESSAGE: Each member of Riftwatch (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. BANTER: Sometimes the walk is long, the herb-cutting is dull, or the watchtower is quiet, and there's nothing to do but talk to the person next to you. So say something.
VI. WILDCARD: From the Gallows' library to the pirate islands off the coast, from Hightown's high-priced market stalls to the bloody frontlines of the war, Thedas is yours to explore.
no subject
The least complicated part of his interactions with Adrasteia and Vance both will always be taking down dangerous things. The familiar rhythm of that focused violence is one of the few things that Ellis has found undisturbed by the mess of the past. ]
Sure it's not wisps?
[ Half of a joke. ]
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[ The pathway they're on has grown colder, suddenly, with Adrasteia able to see her breath as she speaks. This means buttoning up the conversation, on her part, as there's probably going to be a despair demon or something else in the pathway ahead. ]
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Though the gleeful, spinning appearance of the despair demon is unwelcome. They so rarely stay still long enough for Ellis to hit them. It's an aggravation. He'd fallen into the habit of Tony at his back, the concussive burst of energy from his palm picking up where Ellis falls short.
The first burst of frigid blue ice thankfully misses Ellis. But dodging it means his returning blow does nothing more than snag the tattered hem of the demon's rags as it all but bounces up and away from him. The clang of Ellis' mace crumbles the stonework but nothing more. ]
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Freezing it in place would be ideal, to let Ellis hit it a few times, but using ice is out of the question. While she ponders this the demon throws another ice shard, this time squarely towards Adrasteia's chest, but she ends up blocking it with her arm and staff.
Which is now so cold to hold her gloved hands are burning with frostbite. ]
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Adrasteia's barrier come shimmering across his body, warm over his armor, warding against the gleeful chill coming off the demon. The chill grows worse the closer he gets, but there's no other option but to dash forward and swing again. ]
Can you slow it down? [ is called back, punctuated by the satisfying crunch of the mace landing a solid blow to the demon's stomach. It gives a terrible scree of pain response, knocked off balance, and the second blow knocks it upwards, hopefully far enough to give Adrasteia a clear shot if she's so inclined.
The prospective rage demon is a later problem. Hopefully. ]
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She mutters a prayer under her breath as she casts.
Maker's blessing, it does hit the demon and sends it, slightly stunned, into the immolation circle, which means it is now briefly stunned and on fire. A bonus, even! The lightning forks, however, dispelling the barrier around Ellis with a crash and the smell of ozone.
At least he seems fine. Adrasteia winces anyway because that can't have been the most fun experience. ]
How's that?
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Adrasteia's gifted him an opening. It's on Ellis to follow through.
Battered, burnt and lightening-scorched, it doesn't take much for the demon to dissolve into insubstantial wisps under the clang of Ellis' mace. An unceremonious end to the creature, but Ellis isn't complaining. The hiss and growl from the darkened corridor beyond promises further trouble, if they care to go provoke it. ]
Better than expected, actually, [ He answers. One hand comes up to touch the scorch across his breastplate as he speaks. ] Those are usually a difficulty.
[ Anything quick enough to skitter out of his reach is always a trial. Worse when they can send blasts of ice shooting off in their wake. ]
Your hands?
[ With a slight frown; there's not much he can do for injuries, compared to what proper healers are capable of. ]
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[ She takes her gloves off, shoving them under her arm and snapping her fingers on both hands once, twice, three times before she has a small orb of fire floating between her palms. Then she claps them together, dispelling the flame and bringing warmth back to her bitterly cold fingers.
With a light laugh she goes about putting her gloves back on. ]
Alright with that settled, I think we need to talk strategy with the big guy further down the way, there. [ She waves in the direction of the aforementioned rage demon they can hear. ] Ice magic is about what I'm worst at, honestly.
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But the moment of hesitation over the ease of the remark tips him into momentary silence. He hums over the question of strategy instead, the scorch across his breastplate forgotten as he looks down the corridor. ]
Aye, and I've none.
[ A little joke, ha ha. ]
But I can hit it easier, even if it'll be miserable getting so close to it.
[ Say what you will about darkspawn, for every grotesque feature, they are easier to manage than demons. ]
Remind me, does it shake off lightening easy?
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[ She gathers her hair out of her face, tucking stray strands away with fingers and a few well-placed pins. Darkspawn are much easier, honestly. A lot less unpredictable. ]
But they're as vulnerable to lightning as most anything, and there is the matter of a spirit sword that can be summoned. So you're not doing all the heavy-hitting.
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In hindsight, Ellis has been lucky so far in what's fallen out of the rifts when Wysteria, Tony and Fitz are making their observations. Tony isn't helpless by any means, but weighing up all the things that can potentially go wrong now highlights for Ellis exactly what may or may not present a problem in the future. (He isn't going to raise this to Wysteria or Tony who will probably be interested in the odds more than concerned by the danger.) ]
How close do you need to get to use it?
[ Cutting to maybe the most important question, rather than considering the mechanics of magic swords.
As he speaks, he draws out the makeshift map they've been passing between them and sketches the corridor they've passed through, marks "demons" across it in a tight scribble. Good news for the Scouting Division. ]
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[ She watches him write on the map, tilting her head a little to the side and feeling apprehensive, to say the least. ] What do you think, honestly? [ Should they even try this? ]
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[ Which isn't a decision either way, just a small light shone onto Ellis' thought process.
The Crossroads are endlessly frustrating. For all the pitfalls and horrors contained in the Deep Roads, at least they were finite and somewhat predictable. The Crossroads, not so much. ]
We can come back with a few more people to clear this out. No one would hold it against us.
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[ Puffing out her cheeks a bit. She hates to turn away when they've gotten this far, but she'd feel better about an ice flask, or something more likely to put a sizable dent into a rage demon than what's in her repertoire. Even just one other bruiser to take things on with them would be preferable. ]
Okay. Let's head back, then? [ She points with her thumb over her shoulder. ]
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Cross your fingers for an uneventful return.
[ Ha.
Is it preferable to have a quiet walk back where conversation might occur, or would it be preferable to fend off some new form of obstacle? Hard choice for Ellis. ]
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[ Alas.
Adrasteia would rank 'conversation' slightly above 'obstacle' but then again that probably wouldn't surprise a rank stranger. As it is, her staff is double-checked so it won't go falling off her back and she blows in frustration at newly-escaped strands of hair in her eyes. Speaking of conversation it takes roughly fifteen paces before she pipes up with: ]
Have you been with Riftwatch this whole time? [ Since they last saw one another; since Adamant. ]
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No. I've been with them near two years now.
[ Which leaves a gap of time unaccounted for still. Ellis doesn't assume it'll go unnoticed, but he doubts very much she'll want any clearer accounting of where he's been than Vance had. ]
They're disorganized, but they're capable of doing good work.
[ Doesn't that sound familiar. ]
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[ Herein lies the difference, one imagines, between her and Vance: she isn't angry at him. Saddened, definitely, and disappointed, once, assuredly, but angry?
No. She wants to understand. What do you do when it turns out you were so wrong in a conviction? One you were willing to die for?
At 'disorganized but capable of doing good work' Adrasteia snorts gently. ]
I should hope so. Have they sent you to the front lines at all?
[ Has he seen the war up close? Their brethren in Grey Warden armor, fighting for the wrong side? ]
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Ellis glances back at her. He could tell her, I followed orders. I went to Weisshaupt. I watched everything fall apart.
He could tell her I did this work by myself until I couldn't stand it anymore.
He says neither of those things. There's a second question. He sidesteps the first. ]
No. They're too limited in their numbers.
[ This outfit isn't made for open warfare. They're made for mopping up smaller messes, to the best of their ability. ]
We joined the Inquisition in the Fields of Ghislain, but it was only to clean up what the Tevinter forces had left behind when they fled.
[ Tevinter forces. It's ambiguous, these days. Ellis hadn't even known if they'd had Wardens occupying the land with them or not. ]
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Sometimes she misses the straightforwardness of her childhood when people would just say they didn't want to answer her questions. ]
I've been as far north as Perendale. Seen some familiar faces across the field in small skirmishes.
[ Adrasteia sucks her teeth. ]
I never made it to Weisshaupt.
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Did you come across Cathán, Ellis doesn't ask. ]
I was at Weisshaupt, [ Ellis tells her instead, words falling like stones. ] I was there when we got word of the coup.
[ And the subsequent chaos. ]
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[ Adrasteia almost stumbles in her walking in some sort of shock. She's heard strange things from the Anderfels but this is the first time the word coup has reached her ears.
It can't be, but she doesn't believe Ellis a liar either. She bites her lower lip and continues on. ]
This is the first I'm hearing of it.
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It's been a few years since it happened. And at the time, nothing was clear other than it had happened and everyone fell to arguing, and then...
[ A pause, marked by the scrape of their boots on the stone while Ellis gathers his thoughts. (The scuffles turning to violence, fights breaking out in the dark, demons screeching while Warden mages struggled to keep hold of the tether binding them.) He shakes his head, letting that silence stand in for any description before his thoughts turn to the present. ]
But Vidal was killed in Orlais, from what I hear. His successor as First Warden is Tevene, and she doesn't wear the crown. Tevinter appointed someone else to hold authority in the Anderfels in Vidal's stead.
[ The grim smile widens a little. It's a bare bones explanation, but it's still a lot to take in. ]
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What about what happened at Adamant, what about being a Grey Warden means ruling the Anderfels? How is that better? How is that sane? [ She puts her hand on her face over her eyes but keeps walking, putting her hand down in the next moment. ] Helping Tevinter take over Thedas by the sword? Helping Corypheus?! How is this any different from...
[ She stops. Swallows and takes a breath. How is this any different from being the worst of the worst. The evils they are supposed to die to prevent. ]
Why is it always power they want? Isn't it enough that we are what we are?
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This is not an argument for him, not really. He cannot claim to know what First Warden Vidal had wanted. He cannot claim to understand the decisions of First Warden Vedrix. (Or if she can be trusted.) Whether or not he understands the motivations of the other Wardens, well. ]
Adrasteia.
[ Ellis sounds tired, voice flattening over her name. He remembers the fractured pieces of this argument coming from Cathán's mouth. ]
What do you want me to say? It's not so simple. We wouldn't have fractured so badly if it were.
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