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allthisshitisweird2023-05-02 05:40 pm
faderifting) wrote in allthisshitisweird2023-05-02 05:40 pm
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 9:49, 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.
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.
"Vexing" de Riva | Native OC
The Free Marches: Scouting
Tracking Movement - The Mountains
A crow in a tree isn't anything remarkable. Even if the crow is less of a bird and more of an assassin currently playing at being a spy. They aren't that different, in the end. It's just the end goal: Vexing isn't here to kill anyone. Yet. Instead, he's been up here tracking Tevene movements for two days. Counting caravans, taking note of units of mages passing through, marking maps.
Vexing rolls his shoulders and slowly slinks down from his perch. The tree is growing halfway up a rock outcrop and the ledge where it's rooted isn't wide; there's a crack in the rock face next to it that's not clear from most angles, but there's a gap that leads to a pass, and some parts are wide enough to camp in.
He freezes at the base of the tree when he hears a few rocks tumble. He grips the hilt of the knife tucked into his boot and remains crouched down, attention locked on the path between the gap in the stone.
"I hope you're here to replace me. Otherwise it will be a long way down for you."
Meeting Contacts - Starkhaven
Vexing ties his hair back carefully to hide his ears, then pulls his hood up. It's not fool-proof, but he's got a back-up plan if he needs to explain his presence to any Vint that stops him. Sneaking in is all well and good, but fewer people ask questions when someone comes in through the front gate. There are a few ways to avoid being noticed in plain sight, and there are certain people no one looks at. Donned in the clothes of an Imperial messenger (never mind where he got them or how long it took to get the blood out), Vexing strides into the city like he's on a mission.
It's not really an act: he is. Just not the one in his cover story. Once in the city walls, He starts looking for the tavern where he's meant to meet someone from the Riftwatchers. Apparently they've bargained for some information, and he's here to deliver it.
Kirkwall
The Gallows: Baths
Days on the road, weeks since he's had more than a bucket and a sponge, Vexing takes advantage of anywhere with hot water. Once he's told where and when he can find it, it's to the communal baths. The first order of business is actually getting clean, scrubbing away the sweat and dirt of travel and finally washing his hair. That done, he heads for the larger pool with steam rising from it: he's going to soak until someone drags him out of here.
And he might put up a fight if it's less than thirty minutes from now.
Vexing eases into the water slowly, careful of more recent injuries and stiff muscles. It'd be a pathetic end for a Crow to die here: taken out by slippery tile or a lack of coordination. His scars are on full display, as are the black wings tattooed down each arm.
The Gallows: Dining Hall
He might be a guest but he is absolutely not sitting on a dais. Instead, he finds an empty seat somewhere at one of the large communal tables and takes it. Now that he's clean, he doesn't feel bad about getting close and personal with anyone, if he needs to.
"I have no idea what that is but will you pass it this way?" he asks of someone nearby as he gestures at a pitcher on the table. "I might propose to you if it's decent wine. I'll do something less formal if it's not."
Wildcard
[ Happy to plot another scene or respond to something truly random! PM me here or find me at
baths.
most of her is hair, nearly black when it’s wet and falling to her hips. She’s two inches shy of five feet, and striking when she arrives at the edge of the larger, heated pool: a patchwork of vitiligo from top to toes, skeletal scarification elaborately worked on her torso and limbs. It’s a rare sight to see her fresh-faced, but it serves mostly to underline the fact that she really doesn’t need her favoured eye-makeup to stand out.
She’d make a terrible assassin. She doesn’t blend in anywhere.
“I’ll share if you’re going to be nice,” she says, dropping her robe and stepping into the water— this, presumably, refers to the carafe of wine she’s also carrying.
Bathtime indulgences.
no subject
There's probably some reason not to drink while soaking in hot water, but if there is, Vexing is going to ignore it. He flashes an easy smile and, politely, doesn't look anywhere he's not invited to.
"Who are you? Since we'll be sharing."
no subject
“Athénaïs Tavarys,” she introduces herself, settling close enough that they can pass the bottle between them without too much difficulty, and far enough that they’ve both got a reasonable amount of personal space in which to be publicly naked.
It’s a delicate balance.
“And this,” tilting the bottle, “certainly earns me an introduction in return, I reckon,” as she offers it to him. It’s not the first sip; she’s definitely been drinking already.
no subject
"Vexing de Riva." The introduction is offered without hesitation in exchange for the bottle. The first taste just touches his tongue - identifying what it is, and if it could kill him or otherwise make his day difficult - but he doesn't taste any obvious poison. So he takes a real swallow from it before he offers it back to Athénaïs.
"Are we drinking for an occasion or just because you had a bottle?"
imperial tavern;
Lazar staggers backward out the tavern door, one massive mitt still clinging to frame. There's a whole crowd on the other side, a good five or six hands shoving (one tiny fist beating insistently somewhere above his kidneys).
"Oh, fuck off," A glance over his shoulder, to the guy in the hood. "No one needs a lett–"
That's cut off as a lucky elbow finds his jaw.
sliding back in here after the holidays
"Need isn't really a factor here, I was tasked to bring it regardless."
Vexing can't decide if the Riftwatcher is either very good at his job or really fucking bad at it. Either way, he can't just shove what he has into the man's hand when he's got half a bar trying to shove him out.
He closes the distance and presses right up behind the man half-out of the door, either helping him stay where he is or to trap him. Vexing dodges a blind swing and manages to get close enough to his contact's ear to speak low: "It's all the way from Rialto. Don't make me have to tell them you're dead."
He grabs his contact's wrist and calls on a tiny jolt of electricity just to see if he can get him to let go of the damn door frame.
no subject
Sparks. Finger loose from the frame as neatly as his fine motor control. Lazar spits red, a muffled fuck as he rounds on Vexing; careless of whatever too-close-body he might displace for the shuffle. A bar-goer lurches forward into the opening, pulled back on a gasp and the final slam of a door. Voices lift within, splintering to new arguments: Someone got their pinky caught, another has trampled her foot –
Whoever said Lazar wasn't a diplomat? Without him, whole place'll break into war.
"Mate," In low Antivan that could pass for a dockworker's own. "You ever try that again, it's one of us will carry a tale."
Empty threat, no one sane'd fuck with a mage. Course, sane folks probably wouldn't have tried to stay in that tavern. He shakes feeling back into a hand, squints him up and down.
"C'mon. There's a place on Adders."
Dining Hall
"There's hardly a need to go quite that far, though I've no idea what it is." He's still getting a sense of this place, so he's keeping his head clear and drinking water. "Now I find myself curious."
He leans back in his chair to watch the stranger's reaction to whatever the drink may be.
now that the holiday rush is over...
After a tentative, tasting sip, he breaks into a smile.
"Wine. Bad wine, but still wine. The offer for a proposal stands."
wildcard/dining hall kinda
"Aneth ara. Talin," Tah-lean, in his lilting Dalish accent, "at your service. Has anyone shown you around Kirkwall yet?"
If he were being honest he'd ask more specifically about the Alienage. If he were being really honest he'd mention that he has a full day of chores he's committed to completing for Alienage elders and families in need, and his usual partner's been dragged away for Mediation Officer reasons. He is not being honest. He bites into a strip of bacon, and smiles real friendly-like at Vexing.