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Fade Rift Mods ([personal profile] faderifting) wrote in [community profile] allthisshitisweird2023-05-02 05:40 pm
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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 9:49, and the war continues. An enemy force partially occupies Orlais and has decimated several Marcher Cities, while the Chantry, aided by the Inquisition, has marshaled 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. 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.) an organization, dubbed Riftwatch, that split off from the Inquisition several years ago. Riftwatch consists of these 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. Their goal is to do what the Chantry can't or won't do, to go more directly after Corypheus and the dark magic he employs, and to keep the Veil from coming apart entirely.

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 killing you. 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.

NOTE: This is a static test drive! We post them once per year or so and continue to use them for a long time, so you're never late. Current players are encouraged to track new top-level comments.


I. THE FREE MARCHES: Hasmal, Tantervale, and most recently Starkhaven have all fallen to the Tevinter incursion, leaving Kirkwall the largest city-state in the Free Marches to remain unoccupied. For Riftwatch, that means the war is closer to home than ever, and traveling anywhere north of the mountains runs the risk of running into enemy scouting parties. Perhaps you've been sent out to find these scouts before they find the unwary, or perhaps you're just trying to pass through unnoticed to Antiva or Rivain when you run into trouble. Or maybe you're more in the thick of it: joining the Free Marches armies in harassing the occupying army as best they can from outside the city, or slipping your way into one of them to gather intelligence or meet with an ally.

II. THE WAKING SEA: When Riftwatch isn't traveling by griffon or magic mirror, it frequently travels by sea, courtesy of a small assortment of allied pirate ships. So welcome aboard. The sea is choppy and frequently violent—violent storms, violent enemy ships, or both at once—and the crew may not have much patience for incompetence, so either make yourself useful above or try not to get sick below.

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 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 bloody frontlines of the war, Thedas is yours to explore.

reparo: (warning shot)

1/2

[personal profile] reparo 2023-12-13 03:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Not so different, no. Alright, so it is twenty-seven more days - I suppose I better find reading materials.
reparo: (accio)

[personal profile] reparo 2023-12-13 03:58 pm (UTC)(link)
A name would be appreciated, mystery correspondent.
grindset: (15390160)

[personal profile] grindset 2023-12-13 04:06 pm (UTC)(link)
[Oh, right—]

mystery correspondent. ——> Viktor

Have you not been to the library?
Edited 2023-12-13 16:07 (UTC)
reparo: (potions)

[personal profile] reparo 2023-12-13 04:13 pm (UTC)(link)
That's a good name. Thank you, Viktor.

I have barely stepped outside the sleeping quarters so far - this is a lot to adjust to. There was a lot happening, before... well, falling through the Fade, for the lack of a better term.
grindset: (15499854)

[personal profile] grindset 2023-12-13 04:37 pm (UTC)(link)
I understand.

[It took Viktor himself the better part of a week to leave his room without being surreptitious about it—not that he's going to announce it in front of everyone.]

This fortress was once a home for mages — as such, its collection of books is comprehensive. It occupies floors 3-5 of the central tower.
The Archivist can provide a worthwhile selection on request.
If you stay long, he might bring tea.
reparo: (Default)

[personal profile] reparo 2023-12-13 04:42 pm (UTC)(link)
That is just about the best thing I've heard in the past few days. Or - read.
grindset: (15390184)

[personal profile] grindset 2023-12-13 05:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Happy to help.
I must extend my sympathies to you, as well — it can be difficult to adjust to being here — but you are not alone in your position.
quaestionespatris: (that's rough buddy)

[personal profile] quaestionespatris 2023-12-13 05:24 pm (UTC)(link)
One labourer's muttered, "you got it, boss," is decidedly less enthusiastic this time as he helps to manhandle Octavius towards the ferry over all his desperate protestations. (He's really good at giving black eyes to unwelcome Tevinter interlopers, you see.)

Octavius doesn't even have that much time to respond to the odd wink, either, beyond giving Byerly a baffled glare over his shoulder, and then he's too preoccupied trying not to trip and land flat on his face as he's pushed and shoved and herded like--well, like the prisoner he is, apparently, towards the ferry terminal. Their progress through the market draws quite a number of curious glances and a few nosy hangers-on trail behind them, gossiping like fishwives; who's that? oh, a Vint (derogatory)? what a wretch! etc. Being on the receiving end of so many cold, baleful glares from complete strangers quiets Octavius' protests down, and the frustration in his scowl quickly gives way to something notably more wide-eyed and vulnerable, betraying his youth and inexperience. He's afraid, and it's that fear that makes him cast a desperate glance over his shoulder at Byerly just to be sure that his captor hasn't decided to abandon him.

The four of them have excellent timing, at least, as it appears the ferryman is about to depart for the Gallows. The grizzled old sailor glances up unmooring his grimy little dinghy to squint first at Octavius, then at the two labourers manhandling him, and then at last to Byerly. "Don't got room for four," he says matter-of-factly. "Two of you's got to wait 'til I come back."
reparo: (alchemy)

[personal profile] reparo 2023-12-13 07:24 pm (UTC)(link)
I appreciate that - are you familiar with other rifters, if I may ask?
notathreat: (133)

[personal profile] notathreat 2023-12-13 07:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Yeah, lots of them.

We use them as battle and scouting mounts. You would have to bond with one before it will let you ride it though.
bouchonne: (droll)

[personal profile] bouchonne 2023-12-13 08:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Bless the Maker. How exceedingly convenient. Byerly wonders if that's truly the case, or if the old ferryman is simply clever enough to know that when the erstwhile Head of Diplomacy shows up with a captive who looks to be on the edge of tears, that privacy is probably desired.

"You've done your work admirably, men," Byerly says, nodding to the two of them and pressing a pouch into the closer man's palm. "Share this between you, and with your comrades - " And then a cheeky wink - "If you're feeling generous. Seems to me you did most of the work, eh? Come on, lad," By says, and grips Octavius by the upper arm, and pulls him into the ferry.

The laborers don't seem too heartbroken to be spared the rocking voyage across the sound - especially since they've some high-quality tobacco to enjoy, and especially since they've been barred from the really satisfying work of cracking skulls - and let them go. By arranges Octavius in a seat, though he doesn't untie his hands; instead, he shifts into his own seat, stretched out across from the boy, long legs sticking into his personal space.

His manner now is considerably less theatrical. None of that prior outrage or righteousness. Instead, he's quite drolly amused, eyeing his captive with hooded eyes and a crooked smile.

"Do you know Benedict Artemaeus?" is his opening question.
quaestionespatris: (having gay feelings probably)

[personal profile] quaestionespatris 2023-12-13 10:20 pm (UTC)(link)
The ferryman guides the gently bobbing dinghy across the narrow strait, and dismally, Octavius stares at the grimy oilslick that mars the surface of the water. He's contemplating some poetic metaphors about himself as a fish suffering in equally murky waters of his own when Byerly asks that question, and Octavius' head snaps up so sharply that there is no possible way he could talk himself out of knowing exactly who that is.

He sits forward in his seat immediately. "Benedict's alive?" he asks, all wide-eyed shock and, somewhere beneath the day old city grime that has left him looking more dirty than artfully scruffy, hopeful, too.
grindset: (15390233)

[personal profile] grindset 2023-12-13 10:32 pm (UTC)(link)
As far as this company is aware, there are 12 of us in the world, including you.
bouchonne: (considering)

[personal profile] bouchonne 2023-12-13 10:40 pm (UTC)(link)
How utterly dreadful it is, Byerly reflects - what an absolute trial inflicted upon him, a poor innocent who never did anything wrong - that this boy looks too earnest to be truly cruel to. It'd be so funny if he could say something like, yes, we got to know each other well indeed when I was torturing him, just so he could see this boy's eyes turn into saucer plates. Is Byerly not, after all, a good person? Has he not sacrificed for the greater good? Does he not deserve some small measure of joy?

But. No. He, alas, cannot, not in proper conscience. Sigh.

"More than alive," Byerly replies. "I'd say he's thriving." But this begs another question. Namely: "What are you doing here, then, my dear Northern brother, if not in search of our wayward Altus?" Attempting diplomacy? Defecting? Perhaps he's a Soporatus looking for some succor - though that argument with that little girl came across as rather more...clueless than the average Soporatus would be.
quaestionespatris: (what big eyes u have)

byerly deserves not only some small measure of joy, but also love. and jewelry

[personal profile] quaestionespatris 2023-12-13 11:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Alive and thriving.

It will occur to Octavius, in a minute or two, that Byerly could be lying to him. It's the sort of ploy his mother would have expected him to prepare himself for, and indeed something he would have expected in another life, in another city full of asps. But Octavius is, regrettably, not enough like either of his parents to play every role that is expected of him, particularly not after the last six months. And so there is not a shred of artifice in the nearly incandescent smile that lights up his face at this news, brightening his eyes and infusing him with renewed joie de vivre, or something. This news has made his day.

Then the other shoe drops, because of course it does, and his smile withers, wilts, and then falls away. Anxiety twists his lips into a grimace, and the wary fear returns to his eyes. "That's none of--" he starts to snap back, before stopping himself. Really, at this point, what does he have to lose? He's already a prisoner, and his years spent in Nevarra clearly haven't rendered him capable of passing as Nevarran in public anyway.

He looks down at his fingers, which have been fidgeting without his permission. "I'm looking for my father," he admits. "He was a prisoner here, some years ago."
Edited 2023-12-13 23:02 (UTC)
armd: (tell me again)

2

[personal profile] armd 2023-12-14 03:25 am (UTC)(link)
A hand reaches up over Hermione's head from the side of her, hovering before the row of spines and waiting to be directed to the correct tomb. Its owner: a broad-shouldered woman, her dark blonde hair drawn back from her face into a tight, practical french-braid that dangles into empty space off her shoulder. She seems put out, one eyebrow arched as she glances down.

The magic may not have retrieved the book, but it did summon a tall librarian's assistant.

"It's Abby, actually." Not Accio. "Don't kick the shelves. Which one do you want?"
elegiaque: (010)

crystal book.

[personal profile] elegiaque 2023-12-14 06:49 am (UTC)(link)
Before the quarantine existed, a rifter was brought back to the Gallows who bore a disease that specifically targeted rifters, mages, and users of lyrium in that order. Rifters, specifically, it pulled apart at the seams with a fever that sort of boiled them down to their simplest selves, and then began to degrade them so that we started to forget they existed if they weren't in front of us, sweating and crying.

We never knew his name, or how he'd come to be ill, or why that was the nature of his illness. He died. But now you have to be bored for a month, just in case.
Edited 2023-12-14 06:50 (UTC)
reparo: (obliviate)

[personal profile] reparo 2023-12-14 08:16 am (UTC)(link)
That's a small price to pay for the safety of thousands. I shan't complain about that.

And for what it's worth, I don't think I am ill.
reparo: (alchemy)

1/2

[personal profile] reparo 2023-12-14 08:22 am (UTC)(link)
Only twelve!
elegiaque: (052)

[personal profile] elegiaque 2023-12-14 08:22 am (UTC)(link)
A month is a reasonable amount of time to find out if you're susceptible to something here, in reverse, too.

( not that there couldn't be a surprise, down the track, but still. )

Are you much of a reader?
reparo: (apparition)

[personal profile] reparo 2023-12-14 08:22 am (UTC)(link)
...of us?
reparo: (Default)

[personal profile] reparo 2023-12-14 08:24 am (UTC)(link)
An avid one! An eager one, too - I don't think I've had the chance to read anything outside the one book for the past months, and Viktor mentioned the library is vast in this fortress?
reparo: (deprimo)

1/2

[personal profile] reparo 2023-12-14 08:25 am (UTC)(link)
Just like hippogriffs...

Apologies, I keep doing that. Comparing every experience here to what I remember from
reparo: (arresto momentum)

[personal profile] reparo 2023-12-14 08:26 am (UTC)(link)
Am I allowed to call it home, or is it going to get more fingers pointed my way?
elegiaque: (012)

[personal profile] elegiaque 2023-12-14 08:28 am (UTC)(link)
If you're Research inclined and interested in joining officially, you're only quarantined to the island— so you could get a jump on acquainting yourself with Thedas and our work.

Some of my early writings from the Inquisition were apparently useful to rifters, although frankly I don't know if that's true or if certain people were just trying to appeal to my ego. But there's a great deal else, if you have the patience to sift through biases for what's useful.

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