TEST DRIVE MEME!

[faderifting]

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 9:46, 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.

OOC: We post Test Drives fairly infrequently! But current players are strongly encouraged to track new top-level comments to the post so they don't miss new arrivals, and new folks should not be shy about commenting just because the post has been up for a while.

I. 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 underground network of old mining tunnels inhabited by the disenfranchised and a few violent criminals. Or maybe you can work all the time, and you're in the city to do some official shopping, keep an eye on a suspicious character, or show a potential financial backer a good time. The city is grey, cold, and in places vaguely sinister—but it's home.

II. SUNDERMOUNT: North of Kirkwall lies the highest peak of the nearby mountain range. In more ancient days it was rumored to be the site of unspeakable horrors, but at present prowled by more speakable horrors, like possessed skeletons, shadow warriors, and the rare revenant or varterral. And you've been sent to prowl along with them, inside the winding caves that cut through the peak or over the snow currently coating the paths that wind around it. The reasons vary: maybe you're in search of medicinal herbs, maybe you're tracking a party of suspicious travelers lurking outside Kirkwall, or maybe you just took a wrong turn off the road trying to travel in or out of the city.

III. ORLAIS: Further south, Orlais is weathering the winter and the invasion of its northern territories in its usual style—which is why you're here, in a snow-blanketed manor just outside Val Royeaux, representing Riftwatch at the invitation of a gathering of masked nobility who have gathered to discuss ways to support the war effort while not starving their serfs and alienages. And to play parlor games. Maybe have an occasional chamber concert. Your role may be to actively participate in the planning, or it may be to be charming and noncommital while observing, or it may be to provide an example of a well-behaved rifter/elf/mage/Qunari/Fereldan. Regardless: your best behavior is expected, but that doesn't mean you can't sneak into the Duchess' very well-appointed library at night or slip away to try sliding down the length of a frozen reflecting pool in the gardens.

IV. THE 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 passing near or through the frontline drawn through northern Orlais and now northern Nevarra, where it's possible to encounter enemy bands of dracolisk-mounted soldiers, fire-throwing mages, or particularly nasty darkspawn with red lyrium growing from their bodies.

V. 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.

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.

Comments

[icasm]

[ You said it, not him. ]

Mostly the forgetfulness, but perhaps the problem goes further than I'm aware of.

[bouchonne]

Alas, yes. You shall find me a desperately stupid man, I fear.

[ He says that with easy cheer. ]

So what leads you to want to ask about magic, dear fellow?

[icasm]

[ He sounds way too cheerful about that to be taken too seriously. Loki is currently frowning at his crystal wondering just what is with this man. ]

Magic is an interest of mine, and I've not had the chance to talk to many from different worlds about it.

[bouchonne]

I see. Well, I hope you've been told that it's not precisely a safe interest to have in this world.

[icasm]

Because of the conflict between mages and templars?

[bouchonne]

Oh, my, no. It goes far, far beyond that. Tell me, are you familiar with demonic possession?

[icasm]

As a concept, certainly. [ He taps his fingers on the tabletop nearby. ] Is that something which magic practitioners find themselves at risk of, here?

[bouchonne]

Uncommonly so, yes. A mundane soul like mine is like a nasty-bit of shoe-leather to a demon - nothing good to gnaw on. A mage's soul? Why, that's a sumptuous feast.

[icasm]

Do they just... pluck out the souls of mages with abandon in broad daylight?

[ How does it work, where does the real threat lie? That's what he wants to know. ]

[bouchonne]

I believe they typically come and whisper in a mage's ear. There are different types of demon - rage, envy, pride, desire, so on and so forth - and so they appeal to the mage's particular weakness.

[icasm]

And I suppose there is no way of ensuring a magic practitioner is not swayed by these... demonic voices? Considering the reality of free will, and all that.

[bouchonne]

Well, there's the Rite of Tranquility.

[icasm]

I have heard of this but don't precisely know what it means, to be made Tranquil through some sort of rite.

[bouchonne]

[ A bit of a shrug. ]

It means losing your magic. It seems to make all the people it affects quite calm. We had one of them here a while. A perfectly serene fellow. You rather wanted to strangle him after a minute or two.

[icasm]

Huh. Well. Thank you for the information. Might I get your name?

[bouchonne]

Byerly Rutyer. And yours?

[ Even though that little tickle in the back of his head makes him think he already knows the answer to his question. ]

[icasm]

Loki Laufeyson.

[ Does he win a prize? ]

[bouchonne]

[ A small hum of acknowledgment. ]

Of House Asgard, one presumes?

[icasm]

In a manner of speaking.

[bouchonne]

With that manner being that you are but a dream of the actual Loki of House Asgard?

[icasm]

I certainly wouldn't go that far.

[bouchonne]

Then what would your definition of the thing be?

[icasm]

That we are two versions of the same concept but that neither of us is a dream of the other's.

[bouchonne]

Well, you came through the Fade, did you not?

[icasm]

Irregardless of how I arrived in your world, I refuse to entertain the idea that I am a dream of a different version of myself.