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

Emmrich Volkarin | Canon Character (warning for Veilguard content)

[corpsestuff]

[OOC: Obviously everything here has to be a little flexible as this is before Veilguard and the mod call on how Veilguard will be implemented, but I wanted to start to get a grasp of how he'd fit into this universe.]

I. Library (alone)

Genitivi, Genitivi, and look, Genitivi.

[A very tall, greying, thin man (who is obviously a mage, because a skull with green sparks spilling out of the top of a staff is pretty distinct) runs his fingers about an inch from the spines of shelved books, sounding slightly disappointed. His multiple golden bracelets jingle as he pulls down one of the books that has seemingly let him down. Emmrich looks around as he tucks it under his arm.]

Excuse me. Are you familiar with any works by local authors regarding the veil and Fade here? Papers? Books? Or do you have any personal familiarity with the situation?

[The book he's pulled down, oddly enough, is not about the Free Marches. It's about Nevarra.]


II. Nevarra (with Manfred)

[Perhaps your character got lost. Perhaps they deliberately wandered off from the group meeting Johanna and Lukas. Either way, they've found their way to where Emmrich is working along with several ambulatory skeletons, one of which, Manfred, has emeralds for eyes and a unique-looking backpack. The other skeletons are clearing debris, while Emmrich and Manfred kneel over a human corpse with a crushed skull.]

You'd think they'd learn,

[Emmrich says with a sigh. Manfred the skeleton hisses in agreement.]

There is no loot worth one's life, and--ah.

[He's caught sight of your character.]

Can I assist you?


III. Book

These are truly incredible.

Hello, Riftwatch! I'm Professor Emmrich Volkarin of the Mourn Watch. I am a scholar of the Fade, and was informed that my studies and research could be of use to you.

I'd like to ask what you would have liked to know before joining. What would be helpful to know that may not be part of the official brief?


IV: Wildcard

[ooc: Toss me a thing? Let me know if you want Manfred or not, though anywhere outside the Gallows or Nevarra poses a risk to Manfred.]

book.

[mournwitch]

Small world, Professor Volkarin, although I suspect you were encouraged here in a different tone than I was. Athénaïs Tavarys, more errant Mourn Watch and likewise recent arrival.

[corpsestuff]

Perhaps so.

[Definitely so. He's not entirely certain this Tavarys graduated.]

Well met, Athénaïs Tavarys. How do you find matters here?

[How are they about necromancy specifically, he'd love to ask, but he will not do so publicly.]

[mournwitch]

( athaliah wishes the problem with her sister was just not applying herself. the gossip, of course, disagrees in seventeen different directions. )

Nevarra's surprisingly well represented, for a start. I'd have thought Thevenet would have put them right off.

( there's no call to be rude about benevenuta, it's just fun. )

[corpsestuff]

I'm unfamiliar with the name, but every country has its wide array of personalities. You cannot judge them by one or even two examples.

I am surprised that there are a few of us here. Are many mages?

[mournwitch]

( she reads the first part, irresistibly, in her sister's reproachful voice. small wonder athaliah admires him so much, she thinks, not immediately charitably to either of them. )

And Templars, and neither. A veritable cross section, you might say.

i

[aberratic]

[ the young woman he's turned to blinks up at him, owlish, startled by the sudden attention. she recovers quickly though, and glances to the book in his hand. ]

Well, [ ness says, depositing her own two books on the runed slab hovering at her side, ] you haven't given me very many specifics to work with.

[ though like any good librarian, she is undeterred. she begins scanning the shelves, pulling books down, checking spines—one she pulls down, looks at his staff, then purses her lips and puts away again. at the end of her hunt, she has a tidy stack of books cradled in the crook of her arm. ]

These are all the books on the Fade by local authors that I could think of—at least, ones that were a bit more advanced, it doesn't seem like you need basic theory. I went with Marcher-local, not just Kirkwall, but if you want just Kirkwall you only need the bottom two, the academic scene here was... stunted, I guess you could say.

[ what with meredith's draconian iron fist preventing the mages of the gallows from doing anything interesting.

she holds the stack out to him, smiling. did she do good? ]

[corpsestuff]

[Stunted is a very polite word for it, and a wise choice as it says nothing of her opinion either way. The look at his staff hadn't seemed negative, at least. Emmrich nods his head to her.]

Thank you.

[She clearly works here and is competent. Emmrich considers offering back the top ones as he takes the stack, but other Marches could provide greater insight after he finished the Kirkwall-specific ones.]

I apologize for casting the net wide; I didn't expect there to be many options, considering past events.

[He sets the stack of books down on a handy table and holds out his hand.]

Professor Emmrich Volkarin. I am indeed a little past basic theory, though when it comes to the Fade, basic theory is ever-shifting.

[aberratic]

Perfectly understandable, given the givens!

[ which is where ness thought they'd leave things, so she's turned halfway back to her hoverboard when the professor holds out his hand—she's not used to making friends over books. she blinks at him again, then hastily takes his hand and shakes it. her hands are a little cold, but her smile is warm. ]

Quartermaster Ennaris Tavane, [ working at riftwatch, yes, but not as a librarian! ] how do you do, Professor? I didn't know we had any visiting academics coming, I would have helped welcome you. What do you teach?

[corpsestuff]

Quartermaster, [he echoes with a squeeze of her hand; his own hand is as warm as his voice. It's good to meet the backbones of any operation early, and quartermasters absolutely filled that role.]

And not to worry, not to worry at all. I don't need anything in the way of fuss. I'm an expert in the Fade and spirits, and lecture on them primarily.

[Hence the books. He has other specialties as well, but everywhere other than Nevarra can be somewhat tense about death and necromancy. It's tricky to figure out how and when to introduce such things, but he may be here for some time. A testing of the mood may be in order.]

I cover other classes at the Necropolis when the need arises; I've worked there for some time.

[aberratic]

The Necropolis—you're Mortalitasi?

[ ness sounds excited, not apprehensive at all, and her smile only grows wider. ]

I know someone who'd love to meet you! Our Head Healer, Doctor Strange—he's not strictly a necromancer himself, I don't think, but he's always seemed to have a fascination with the practice. He'll be so excited to pick your mind!

[ which, hang on, to clarify: ] I'm also excited, of course. Not specifically about the necromancy, though not not about that, but—

[ she gives a breathless huff of a laugh, rolling her eyes at herself and her own inability to finish a sentence. slowly, deliberately, she starts over. ]

I'm very interested in spirits, both in theory and practically. In my previous life, we didn't have anything like them!

ii.

[reparo]

[ She's lost. This part of Nevarra is full of an eerie fog and an eerie glow, and she may have passed the same rock formation three times already. On the way back to an eluvian, to hopefully find her way to wherever it is that she is currently stationed, Hermione has been walking in circles. Or hexagons? It's very annoying - she can't exactly summon the mirror to her, it's too large!

But, not all time is wasted. She's been pocketing crystalline-like rocks as and when she's found them, as well as any fungi that may be growing here. And by pocketing, she has been putting them inside a small bag which honestly looks like it's bottomless. The form never changes, no matter how much Hermione puts in there. There may be some books, and rations in case she gets separated from the other members of Forces -

Which she has, now. There's finally the sound of someone talking after what feels like two hours walking in hexagocircles, and she follows it with some hope.

She's so relieved to spot the human man that for a second she doesn't notice the moving skeletons. ]

Oh - yes, please, I - [ And then she notices the skeletons. More importantly, she notices Manfred, who notices her. There's a beat - lots of staring. Also: ] What.

I'm so sorry, I somehow entirely missed this notif!

[corpsestuff]

[Ah, this must be one of the group that's visiting today, going off that reaction. He'd heard something about them coming through but he hadn't expected to run into any of them. Emmrich stands.]

Pardon me, I didn't quite catch that.

[Manfred hisses, tilting his head as he looks at her. Emmrich nods.]

Quite right. My apologies. I'm Professor Volkarin, this is Manfred, and are you lost?

That's alright!!

[reparo]

[ She had thought she'd seen it all, but this skeleton - Manfred! - is not coming at her poised to attack. He - he? - might hiss, but it's not rude. More like language.

Which is fascinating. Nevarra is bloody fascinating.

And as for the professor -]

Pleasure to meet you, I'm Hermione Granger. I came here with the Riftwatch but I believe I've gotten lost.

[corpsestuff]

Madame Granger, a pleasure. Please give me one moment, and I can assist you.

[He pulls a folded white cloth out of Manfred's backpack and gestures with long fingers. Green magic swirls around him and the skeletons. Four break off to spread the white cloth out. With another swirl of magic the human corpse gets up to lay on the cloth before the skeletons pick up the cloth by the four corners and trot off, carrying their load somewhere south.

Emmrich gives a nod, dusts off his hands, and turns his attention back to their guest.]

There. Now. I fear with the way the tours work there's no catching you back up to it, so I can offer you two options. One, Manfred and I give you a shorter, personal tour,

[Manfred claps,]

or two, we guide you back up to where you came in and you can spend time with Vorgoth and Madame Myrna. I find both to be excellent company.

i.

[portalling]

‘The situation’, [ the other man in the aisle repeats, ruminative. He’s middle-aged, grey-streaked, also with trim and tidy facial hair, and wearing well-tailored robes. Doctor Strange isn’t in the library quite so often these days, but it’s still one of his favourite places, and he’s got a medical textbook jammed under one elbow even as he cranes to look at the newcomer’s selection. ]

Which particular situation about the veil and the Fade? There’s simply so many. I’ve got stacks on stacks of magical theory back at my office, but they’re presumably fairly introductory if you’re already from Thedas. I liked Enchanter Mirdromel’s account, though; it’s more well-rounded on magic compared to Genitivi’s outsider perspective.

[ He might be younger and shorter compared to the professor, but there’s a similar talkative scholarly air to the dark-haired— mage? He seems like a mage. He also can’t stop staring at Emmrich’s staff (we don’t mean that as euphemism) with something alike raw envy. ]

[corpsestuff]

[Emmrich's gaze briefly goes to the book the other man is holding, but his attention is more on his words.]

It is quite a lot, isn't it. I meant in particular the clear weakness here, though first-hand accounts of any interesting peculiarities someone has encountered would be welcome.

['Outsider' in this context clearly refers to someone who is not a mage, and that combined with how his new company is looking at his staff suggests the other man is a mage. Due to that, this man can doubtlessly feel how thin the Veil feels in Kirkwall compared to elsewhere.]

Do you find Enchanter Mirdromel's account... thorough? I find Chantry-approved texts on the topic often dance away from any deeper conclusions.

[Emmrich's already looking over the shelves for Mirdromel's name and pulling down the suggested text, though. He holds out his hand once that's secured with the Genitivi book on Nevarra.]

Emmrich Volkarin, Professor with the Mourn Watchh.

[portalling]

Mm. Chantry-approved influence and censorship is a problem, yes, but I suppose hardly anyone could afford publishing independently without their funding. It’s thorough enough in the interim. Whereas Genitivi likened the Tranquil to inanimate objects that speak. [ There’s a drip of disapproving condescension in the man’s voice, a curl of his lip, annoyed. ] So. Good at historical research, certainly, but in matters of the arcane he lacks a certain… perspective.

[ Tucking away the book under his elbow, Strange accepts the other man’s hand and shakes it. Crisp, polite, professional. ]

Doctor Stephen Strange, Head Healer of Riftwatch, delighted to meet a real academic, [ he says, with a bemused brightness in his green-blue eyes, perking up even further once he realises who he’s talking to: ]

You know, I was only recently able to visit the Grand Necropolis for the first time and work with the Watchers to close a rift. Is it weird to say I’m a fan of your order? I’m a fan.

[corpsestuff]

[Emmrich makes a matching face at the description of the Tranquil. That's an uncalled-for cruelty to people who had already been subjected to unfathomable cruelty. Unfortunately it isn't an uncommon attitude toward the Tranquil.

His expression lightens as Dr. Strange goes on, transforming to an amused smile by the end.]

Frankly I have no idea if it's weird. Regardless, I'm a fan of it as well, so I thank you for that, as well as for the rift-closing assistance. I should have been a part of that operation, but unfortunately things have been... well. Let us call matters of late in Nevarra City complicated and leave it at that.

[They're settling down at last, which is why he's been asked to assist the Riftwatch. He might like a bit of downtime in the recovered Necropolis, but with the rumors and conflict that surrounds the Riftwatch he can hardly ask someone else to be at risk.]

You must have been part of the Riftwatch for some time, to be the head healer, Doctor Strange?

library

[buttsbuttsbutts]

( a woman sits alone, surrounded by a stack of books. if she giggles to herself, it's almost certainly because she's just ever-so-delighted by the wealth of knowledge she's uncovering here in this house of learning. if her quill moves in large, looping shapes it's probably because she writes in a particularly fanciful cursive and definitely not because she's drawing dicks and balls in the margins. or tits. definitely no tits.

it takes her a moment, focused as she is on absolutely-not-drawing-tits-in-margins, to realize that she's being spoken to. her eyes are immediately drawn to the jangly gold bracelets when she glances up, and her brow furrows. then she sees the rings, and her nose wrinkles.

tailored clothing? lip curl.

a mage's staff? full face scrunch.

by the time she's noticed the mustache, her expression is completely contorted into a mask of visceral disgust. )

Eugh, ( she says, succinctly. )

[corpsestuff]

[Well. This isn't entirely unexpected. He is what he is, and the Free Marches are not known for being welcoming to mages period, forget necromancers.

Emmrich gives the woman a short nod, turns, and walks to the next book case. She can be as rude as she'd like; he knows full well he looks good.]

LIBRARY

[wardwitch]

[ Argent, currently a few shelves down looking for a book on medicinal plants she knows was in the Weisshaupt Library but is proving to be harder to find here, hears the tail end of this tale of Genitivi related woe; while the tall man can't see her face one corner of her mouth does do something ambiguous that might be amused commiseration. When he addresses her she turns, shoulders stiffening to approximately the consistency of human-proof cement, though if he can follow her eyeline she hasn't even glanced at the staff, she's just reacting to being spoken to by a human man significantly bigger than she (because everyone is, except her twin, but shh we don't know about that yet).

Thus is Emmrich met by an elf approximately the height of his sternum topped by an artfully choppy silver hot bitch mullet, who actually has seen the staff now and is in fact beginning the decementing process; later she'll mull on how given the vast mess that is currently the institution of the Grey Wardens, it's probably considered progressive or liberal or something to talk to her in the first place, but other mages have been easier to trust since her magic manifested. Plus she actually is in mental possession of one of the items he's ticking off and so. ]

Yeah, some. I lived here when you couldn't swing your arms without hitting a blood mage so ready to stab you....or a demon...or Qunari. Not that they can affect the veil, it was just a stabtastic couple of years.

[ She shrugs; if an oral interview with a former alienage elf will serve, she can oblige. Maybe after he'll help her find the makerdamned plant book! Depending on like, his tolerance for how she talks. ]

[corpsestuff]

[Stabtastic. The corner of Emmrich's mouth quirks up in amusement at the particularly evocative new word before he quickly smooths his expression; the word is delightful, but the circumstances the elf describes are not. She's a little tense, but she'd answered, at least.]

The blood mages certainly could affect the veil, and spirits are affected by it, so that sounds relevant if you've the time.

[Emmrich's eye catches the dagger on her belt, and she becomes an even better potential witness.]

If you noticed a difference between then and now that could be especially helpful. The thinness here is quite noticeable.

[Has it thinned more in recent years? Has it been like this here for a while? Is it going to be a greater issue here?]

I would appreciate any information you have, madame. I'm Emmrich, Emmrich Volkarin.

[wardwitch]

[ ...well. That makes a change! She gets ser or Warden Tavarys on occasion, but never madame, which strikes her as more a title one would use for formal acquaintanceship. While that does seem to be what they are indeed doing at the age of 35 she could probably count her experiences with formality on one hand. ]

Argent.

[ the omission of a surname might be perceived as a slight, but if she's honest she just--rarely uses it unless it's part of the ~warden title, and that's complicated enough as is. Either way she does do away with any doubt via the fact that she comes close enough to extend her tiny, tiny hand for a shake rather than, perhaps, a curtsy. Her grip suggests she's had reason to practice. She takes a closer look at the staff itself now that she's up close; necrotic magic isn't the kind she typically deals with on the grounds that it's nigh-useless against darkspawn, but she's curious because of course she is. If she had been born a cat instead of an elf she'd be like, super dead by now. ]

And sure, I'm not exactly being deluged with more pressing obligations.

[ Her expression skews a few degrees mischievous, mostly at the same corner of the mouth that stabtastic earned from Emmrich. ]

One condition, though.

[ look at her, she's angelic! While her affect is not precisely flirty, it does engender the sense that to whatever small extent she's taking him into her confidence. ]

Are you from Nevarra? I can't tell from looking or anything, I'm just the absolute and immortal queen of mastering context clues. [ she gestures to the staff, starfish-spread fingers expansive. ] If you are, I dunno jack or shit about the magic that must be your day-to-day, sooooooo. I contribute to your fund of knowledge, you contribute to mine?

[She does not actually know how much this might delight Emmrich, but she's never met a Nevarran mage before; not taking the opportunity seems deeply stupid. Plus, as her player fucking forgot, he also pulled down a book about his possible place of origin! ]

[corpsestuff]

[Her hand is incredibly small. He's as careful with the shake as he would be with shaking Manfred's hand, raising an eyebrow at the change of her expression that comes moments later. There's an energetic cadence to her words that's welcoming at the least.]

Typically the jewelry would suggest Nevarra, [he says, smiling,] but yes, the staff is an accurate indicator as well. I'd enjoy the opportunity to discuss magic, of course. Here?

[He gestures to one of the nearby tables with chairs. Surely it would be tiring to look up at him constantly for a conversation, and he doesn't want her to feel like she's being looked down on. That will also give him the opportunity to take notes of any specific events that may have influenced the Veil here.]

Or is there somewhere else you'd prefer or recommend? I've only just arrived.