Test Drive!

[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 9:49, 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.

Comments

[corpsestuff]

All beings have inherent value, living and otherwise. I do hope that one day that is not a weird attitude.

[His voice is hushed, and not just because they're in the library. It is a true shame that so many are so quick to categorize beings as 'other.' But he knows he's an outlier.

And he knows that she's right that other topics are much easier. He needs to find out how much of an issue the Venatori are here in Kirkwall as soon as possible, what with the Veil's thinness, but at least now he knows that it's not thinning at a steady rate. And they have a lighter topic to focus on.]

Perhaps let's step outside first, so we can swing staves around without causing issues?

[Emmrich tilts his head to indicate the nearby doorway which he's fairly certain leads to outside.]

[portalling]

[ There’s another spark of curiosity lighting in Strange’s expression at the mention of all the above: hands-on medical matters, the Fade, spirits. Nerd activated: ]

Are you looking to join us properly, then? Perhaps on secondment? If you did, Riftwatch and Research would certainly be welcome of any contributions, whether it’s medical or osteological or magical in nature. I admit I’ve some experience in combating otherworldly arcane threats, so I’m interested in that particular realm of study and Fade research, as well— I mean, we’d likely all benefit if we managed to stabilise the Veil better so it’s less prone to ripping open and shitting out demons.

[ Eloquent. ]

[corpsestuff]

[It's truly a relief to find another professional here. Of course the Riftwatch would have them, but it's interesting to fit that together with the (admittedly prejudiced) opinion he'd had of Kirkwall.]

That's exactly the reason I'm here. Or most of it. We'd, as in the Mourn Watch, also like a little more warning if threats are headed to Nevarra or the Grand Necropolis. So I'm here to join, assist as best I can, and give them a head's up if, say, someone is about to disturb the rest of our dead all over again.

[He smiles, and his voice has no judgement in it. It hadn't been Riftwatch's job to give them advanced notice, if they'd even had it.]

I'd love to learn from you and teach in return. Especially when it comes to protecting the waking world from spirits, and spirits from the waking world. It's too much for them, and that's why they become dangerous.

[aberratic]

Well, most of a skull. Her lower jaw's missing, poor thing, and the box we found her in has lost all of its jewels. It seems like she was forgotten for a long while—she says hundreds of years, but of course, who can trust a spirit's perception of time—

[ she's babbling again. ness forces herself to take a breath, slow down, stop trying to preempt trouble. the professor isn't accusing her of anything yet! concern is not accusation, it's just concern. he's concerned about a spirit! that's good!

but it does mean she should stop babbling and take him to rosamunde before he gets upset. she smiles, sheepish, and nods at him, finally. ]

Yes, Professor, of course, just let me clean up after myself.

[ ness goes quickly about the task of putting her books away, officially borrowing out emmrich's texts, and loading the small stack on her runed hoverboard. when she's ready, she smiles at emmrich again, and leads them out the doors of the archive and toward the stairs. as they go, she keeps talking, less nervously this time, about her plans to fashion a harness to keep rosamunde attached to her belt so she can come along on safer field missions, see the world—

the office they end up in is of a fair size, kept neat and tidy. bookshelves line one wall, though they're not terribly full yet. a dark wooden desk stands in the middle of the room, upon which sits a stack of loose papers, a quill and inkwell, and a cushion. on the cushion, there lays a skull, devoid of bottom jaw, but otherwise clean and fully intact. ]

Rosamunde, I'm back! [ ness pushes the book-laden hoverboard up to the desk and gently picks up the skull to present it, cupped in both palms, to emmrich. ] I brought a new friend, he was very excited to meet you.

[ the skull's eyes fill with the smoke-like green of fade spirit-stuff immediately. ]

A friend? How do you know? He doesn't look very friendly to me!

[corpsestuff]

[He bows and patiently waits through the tidying up, thanking her as she loaned the books out to him. The one on Nevarra will be returned first, as soon as he's done making annotations (on separate pieces of paper, tucked between pages) to fix Genetivi's abominable scholarship on the matter of Emmrich's country and culture.

He can also give a little bit of input as to how to safely travel with a skull, considering he's come to Riftwatch with a few as well. None possessed, of course. None that talk on their own. But they're useful for focusing magic and consultations.

The skull, Rosamunde, looks like she's being taken care of. He also can't recall a Rosamunde among the list of those they need to keep an eye on, thought that means nothing. His memory isn't perfect, nor has the list-keeping been flawless. Emmrich says nothing of these thoughts.]

My name is Emmrich, Rosamunde. May I ask what happened to you?

[He holds out his hands, hoping that Ness will hand her over. The missing jaw is concerning. He wonders if there's a spare one that will fit her; even skulls feel better when whole.]

I have experience with piecing skeletons together, and with spirits.

[wardwitch]

[ Argent looks around the library, which despite how the image almost makes her giggle - not quite, and anyone daring to pretend to the contrary will be summarily chainsawed in half - is, yes, she must admit probably not in need of any staff swinging. The troll troublemaker in her simply never dies, only occasionally goes dormant.

Also, it's childish and Emmrich is too nice to be dragged into such things. Though she knows even the goofy ass flight of fantasy already qualifies as deflecting a little, simply unsure what to say in the face of all this optimism and care for other for other people. So bizarre. ]

That one I'll have to see six, seven hundred times before I believe it, but--

[ A one shouldered shrug accompanies standing and the gesture equivalent of BRB as she heads a few feet away to retrieve her own staff from where it's been leaned up against a bookshelf. It is hilariously, much taller than she is, an effect sort of like a shepherd's crook, assuming a shepherd's job was to like, electrocute the sheep.

She finishes her thought as she follows Emmrich to the door, the tail to his kite:]

It's a nice thought, anyway.

[ The door opens onto a moderately sized stone courtyard; Argent doesn't know if she'll ever get used to traipsing around the Gallows when it represented so fear and corruption in her youth, but this spot, at least, looks both suitable and empty of demon. ]

You seem like a guy who can multitask - I mean, everyone thinks they can do that but I bet you actually can instead of just getting buried up to your neck in stuff kiiiind of started and then forgot about - so can you teach me about Nevarran magic and how to level up my battle stylishness at the same time?

[corpsestuff]

[He realizes, as soon as she's grabbed her staff, that he's going to have to adapt some of what he does on the fly due to her height. Thankfully he has no little experience with that; students are nothing if not surprising.

They reach outside and he wonders, not for the first time, how many of the mages formerly held here got to do something so simple. Her question draws him out of that with a laugh.]

I can multitask, but I've found that attempting to focus on one thing at a time actually leads to more being accomplished, should one have the freedom to do so. That being said, those two topics run in parallel to the point that one will not detract from the other. First, however, here.

[He takes off the ring on his pinkie finger and offers it out. It's the only one that might be small enough to fit her.]

For the purpose of this lesson. I will require it back afterward. The glove helps with grip, of course. But the point is where you hold the staff in relation to where the ring rests.

[Emmrich demonstrates, and while she puts on the ring and shifts her hold he launches into the other topic.]

By Nevarran magic may I take it you mean necromancy, as magic is generally magic. For me, the foundation of it all is the respect in which I hold others. It means the spirits are more inclined to work with me, which in turn means that it's easier to guide them to temporarily puppet dead bodies. Many among the mortalitasi unfortunately assume that being good at forcing control over spirits is an acceptable route, but the Mourn Watch knows better.

[Or should. Even in the Mourn Watch some still choose cruelty. It's bewildering, quite frankly.]

How is your grip feeling?

[wardwitch]

Oh dear...seems no one has told you that all elves - especially mages - are at least half magpie; I'm afraid I must take this back to my nest, never to be seen again except when I remember how shiny it is!

[ Her expression is so seamlessly somber she must be joking as she slides the ring onto her thumb; as a mage who favors her staff but still makes use of orb and dagger the muscle in Argent's dominant hand is a little thicker, meaning the ring fits with much less danger of sliding off. She experiments with different holds as she listen to him speak, pausing a moment when a way to at least even out the wild disparity in their heights occurs to her. ]

Here: [ If Emmrich will oblige her, she holds her staff out to him to take in his own grip at first. ] It's mostly in how it's weighted. The quartermaster at Weisshaupt just adored me.

[ The quartermaster thought she was a pain in the ass, but not more difficult than adjusting his specs to work with dwarves. ]

Right. I guess I mean necromancy, but I've seen enough Southern magic to know we think of it differently--it's not just making evil undead to eat whole villages and that kind of dastardly thing. I get it, I think--grinding little people - live ones, dead ones - under the heels of the mighty only works so long. Even little people have a breaking point.

[ If Emmrich's had enough time to familiarize himself with the material differences of their respective staves, she takes it back and wraps the ring-bearing hand around about three-quarters up. ]

From here? Good! But we'll see what happens once I start swinging this beautiful lady around.

[ Yes, she is referring to her staff. Its name is Princess Von Zappenkirk. Esquire. ]

[portalling]

Glad to hear people aren’t holding it against us, [ Strange says with a flash of a smile, dry humour. ] Although the… inciting incident was before my time.

[ He’s so distracted by the conversation that he briefly forgot what he was here for, until he realises his fingers are starting to ache from clutching the textbook in his hands, grip slipping from the weight; he sets his book down on the nearest library cart, reminding himself to take it with him when he leaves. The Gallows’ newest arrival is, frankly, more interesting than whatever research lead he’d been trying to chase down today. ]

‘Professor’. What does that entail exactly, in Nevarra? Do you teach? I thought the title of ‘Senior Enchanter’ primarily marked a teacher in a Circle.

[ But the Mortalitasi seem to do things differently from other Circles, as he’s realising— ]

[corpsestuff]

[Most definitely one of the Rifters.]

The Necropolis does not operate the way Circles did.

[Despite his best attempt to sound neutral with that sentence, it's a little clipped. Emmrich frowns, mostly at himself, and shakes his head. His voice is mostly back to normal when he resumes speaking but there's still a slight edge.]

The Templars of Nevarra know that it's best for Nevarra, and truly the whole of Thedas, if they let the Mourn Watch operate and teach as it will. I teach young adult mages about spirits and the Fade, with higher-level lectures on the same topics, and sometimes when there is need I cover for lower-level classes: anatomy, necromancy, and the like.

Perhaps the South does not talk about how we operate much because in Nevarra many mages have autonomy without the issues of slavery and blood magic that run rampant in Tevinter.

[portalling]

Quite likely, [ Strange agrees. The comment’s a little judgmental, but unlike the professor, there’s no heat in it; speaking from academic observation than raw lived reality, not as personally tangled into the ugly history of Circle life. Definitely a rifter. But the description of higher-level lectures and lower-level classes sparks something, some old craving: he’s a perpetual student, always learning, a sponge for information. He’d done an MD and PhD at the same time. He’s voracious. ]

One of the templars here is Nevarran, so I’d gathered a little bit about how it works, but it’s— I feel like that ought to be the model. In my own world, I had the privilege of learning magic at a monastery of fellow scholars — the Masters of the Mystic Arts — so I admit I’m frankly spoiled. If the Circles could have been more like actual schools of magic, we’d presumably all have been the better for it.

[ A twinkle of mischief in his voice, half-joking: ] Are you still taking open enrolment? For, say, a hypothetical student of somewhat advanced age?

[aberratic]

You may not! the spirit snaps, and Ness's eyes widen, and her excited expression turns to despair. Your aura stinks of necromancy, corpse-whisperer, you can't fool me! Mourn Watch, feh. No one was watching me! I won't go back now that I'm out. Ennaris, if he touches me, you must use whatever means necessary to pry me from his greedy little fingers. Mourn Watch, indeed!

There's no real way to stop Rosamunde once she gets started, but Ness does put the cushion back on the desk, frowning sadly at the glowing skull—disappointed in the manner of the mother of a misbehaving child.

"She does this sometimes, she's very... opinionated. Rosamunde, ma'am, the Professor just wants to help—"

I'm sure he does—help lose me again! I'll not go back, Ennaris, he can't touch me! I forbid it!"

[corpsestuff]

[He nods along, agreeing grimly, even though he does wonder what sort the Nevarran templar is. Some of them are respectful. Some, however, resent the freedom the Mourn Watch has in its operations and he's learned to be watchful. The latter gets Emmrich smiling again, though.]

I doubt, and even hope, that I will be too busy for formal teaching while here. But I do enjoy the art of teaching, if there are particulars you'd like to learn or discuss. In return, if you're willing, I'd love to hear more about magic from your world.

[It seems a fair exchange, in his mind.]

The way it works, what it does, and if you can teach the magic itself here. I've focused on what I do to the point that I'm highly specialized; it would be interesting to branch out a little while I'm not working in the Necropolis.

[corpsestuff]

[He answers her joke with a warm smile. Emmrich doubts she's going to try stealing it, but even if she did he has faith enough in his abilities to get it back. If all else fails, the spirits will hold her for him.]

Did he?

[he asks with continued amusement as he takes her staff and weighs it in his hand. The way she said 'adored' leads him to believe that too is a joke. He passes it back, and much of the amusement fades away as she keeps talking.]

It should never be making evil undead eat villages, or be about grinding anyone under a heel. Necromancy should involve respect for the dead, living, and otherwise. There are always those who will strike out with whatever fragments of power they can obtain, but that is not unique to corrupt necromancers.

[Emmrich knows he has a higher ideal of necromancy than many in the mortalitasi, but the Mourn Watch is different. Or it at least should be.]

Let that be your first lesson regarding necromancy. Respect is key. If you respect the spirits and the other beings you work with, they will, for the most part, respect you. And the first step in stylishness should be your stance. Stand stably, with clear confidence. You are magic. It is yours to wield, and with it we show the world what it can be.

[corpsestuff]

"You were lost for quite some time," he says gently. "That was ill-done."

Emmrich lowers his hands to his sides to emphasize that he's not a threat. He doesn't need to hold her, even though assessing her stability and essence would be much easier with touch.

"It is my duty to find out how that happened, to prevent it from happening again. If you tell me some of your story that could help." The name alone is a start, he can send a message back to have Audric start searching the library, but it's far from enough.

He looks to Ness. "And it's quite all right. If I was abandoned for hundreds of years and unable to do anything about it, I would be furious as well. I truly do wish to help, however." The last is directed to both of them.

"My assistant is a spirit of Curiosity, Rosmamunde, housed in a skeletal body. Once it was clear he was interested in sticking around, I enabled him to choose what parts went into his form and now he's my companion."

[portalling]

I’d love that. In all the admittedly shitty circumstances of Riftwatch coming together, despite everything, I have to admit this is one of the perks of getting so many disparate minds under one roof: learning from each other. Different specialties, different universes entirely, everyone’s got a perspective to add.

It doesn’t directly transfer in either direction, [ and what a frustration, that Doctor Strange can’t simply pick up principles of being a Thedosian healer and make his job all the easier, ]

as in, no one’s been able to directly learn new spells from each other, but I still find value in the sharing of knowledge. Your own principles and techniques help me channel my own abilities better here by manipulating the Fade better. It remains a universal truism: practice does make perfect.

[ He’s a chatterbox when he gets going, glad to expound on these subjects. ]

Nowadays, my own specialties lie in protective glyphs and conjuring spirit weaponry and combat magic. But it was an even broader umbrella, once upon a time: portals, scrying, astral projection, time manipulation.

[aberratic]

Rosamunde falls silent for a moment, the Fade-smoke of her billowing in what one might anthropomorphically term consideration, the ghostly suggestion of her attention probing at Emmrich.

Well, she snaps eventually, at least he acknowledges fault—though I'll note I've yet to hear an apology—

"Rosamunde!" Ness exclaims, bright-eyed, and the Fade-smoke of the spirit inside the skull ripples in what might be annoyance equal to Ness's excitement, "we could get you a full skeleton! I can't do that myself, you know, I don't have the first idea how to do it, but if you let Professor Volkarin help—"

That's quite enough, the spirit snaps, and Ness bites her lip, trying not to smile. Rosamunde is like this, so singular of feeling, can't be anything new until she's run out of the first thing she was feeling, which means a lot of the time she just ends up expressing her excitement through a veil of abject annoyance—

Alright, Rosamunde says after a dramatic pause, lofty, like she's the one granting Emmrich a huge favor. Ness turns to beam at Emmrich, but otherwise does her best to keep her excitement contained—anything else is just as liable to make Rosamunde change her mind, fickle lady that she is. But there will be rules. Chiefly, you cannot hold me! And I'll only talk to you while Enarris is present. And only in Trade! She hasn't got a grasp of Nevarran yet, and I want her to know exactly what's being said. No secrets, Mourn Watch!