dankmemes | TEST DRIVE MEME #4

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!test drive

TEST DRIVE MEME #4

Welcome to Hadriel's test drive, and thank you again for your interest in the game! As always, our reserves page is here, and our applications page is here! Reserves open December 25th, and apps are open January 1st.

Two quick points here as well:
1. Any thread made in Hadriel's test drive will be accepted as the sole Action Log sample in the application.
2. All threads made in the test drive can be considered game canon, either through handwaving or through a shared mental experience while coming through the Door!

Test drives will be broken up into specific god mini-events, during which your characters can see how well they fare under the watchful eye of one of the gods. Choose wisely or just simply pick 'em all, and have fun!

F E A R

SCENARIO ONE: A FACE FIT FOR A MEME
[The Door brings in all that is chaotic and evil in the world. This may include you, may include the person next to you... and may include the monster behind you.

Watch out as you explore the streets of Hadriel, because you're not alone, and there's always something on the rooftops watching and waiting for the perfect opportunity to separate you from your group and tear you into pieces. This time, the Door has brought in trolls, from the Dungeons and Dragons tabletop roleplay series for you meet.

These trolls have a height of nine feet and weigh up to five hundred pounds. They may be slower and less intelligent than you, but their regenerative abilities make them difficult to kill. Trolls are capable of healing nonfatal damage dealt to them and can use simple tools, like swords and knives- all the better to incapacitate you so they can roast you alive!]

SCENARIO TWO: RED SNOW
[It's cold. A layer of snow envelops the city, turning the caves into a winter wonderland. Feel free to have snowball fights, scrounge for blankets and coats (there's never enough to go around), and make snow angels! It's just like back home during the holidays, isn't it?

That is, if your home had yeti and white walkers roaming around trying to kill you. Be careful when wandering out and about, because they seem to blend in with the snow, and they definitely want a snack.

Or, uh, to raise you from the dead to murder your friends at their behest. Either way, you're dead.

This is a mini version of our Red Snow event this month!]

H O P E

SCENARIO THREE: HOPE FOR THE HOLIDAYS
[You're sitting on a couch in a living room. All around you are hints of magic- the mirrors seem to flicker with moving objects and people, the fireplace crackles with light, but no heat. There's a Christmas tree in the corner with soft, glowing lights that are unattached to any sort of wires.

Underneath the tree are four presents- two of them clearly marked for you, two of them clearly marked for the other person in the room with you. Inside one of these gifts is something you badly want- a stack of cash, a magical bow, an out-of-print book- but inside the other is something a little less pleasant. There may be spiders or snakes, or the box may be empty but coated in acid. It could be a wolf in sheep's clothing- wonderful-looking fruits, rotted on the inside- or it could just be a particularly nasty smell.

You can only open one, and there's no way to know which is which. Which gift will you choose?]

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[ Most of his attention had been on whatever it is back there, and Koltira's words take a second or two to really make sense. Then the good humor fades from his face as his attention focuses fully onto Koltira again. Stranger. He's no stranger to being forgotten, half of the Exsilium locals had forgotten his name through changes made in time over the course of his stay there. But he's never been forgotten by another Transport. ]

You don't know me. [ He's skipped straight through disbelief and settled until unhappy resignation, complete with a small smile. ] That must have been odd then, me knowing your name like that.

[ He can hear the crunching footsteps as the next white walker approaches him, but he doesn't even look back. ]

I'm a high priest, though. Skilled enough to fix that right up, [ he gestures with the tip of a rod to Koltira's side ] if you're willing to sit through the healing.

[Koltira shakes his head, still unbalanced by this man's apparent familiarity. He hears the walker, too.]

There isn't time. Get behind me!

[Koltira brandishes Byfrost at the new attacker, which appears before them as though he were previously invisible. The walker wastes little time with preamble, lunging for Koltira with another mysterious, crystalline sword.]

[ Well, that's a bit dramatic of him, but Ashraf will be the first to agree that the best place to be is the opposite side of Koltira from whatever wants to kill them. So he just shrugs and obligingly sidesteps, letting the fight start. And while he's at it he casts another spell, this time on the white walker, to slow its movements. He could give Koltira a shield as well, but... ah, it's just one enemy, and he'll be healing him anyway. If he gets hurt again, there's not much harm done. ]

Well, hurry up with this one, then. [ Probably redundant advice, but he gives it anyway. There's an unpleasant conversation ahead, he'd rather get to it sooner than later. ]

[Koltira doesn't waste time. He'd been having some slight trouble with these creatures, due to their affinity for frost magic--and subsequent immunity--but he's learned, now. So instead of chains or frigid blasts, Koltira activates the plague runes on his sword. When he strikes, the wound he leaves behind festers, eating through whatever magic binds the white walker's body together.

As it collapses with a hot hiss, Koltira turns back to Ashraf.]

Come, then. Do your magic.

[He doesn't relish the prospect of holy healing, but neither can he deny its effectiveness.]

[ Ashraf watches impassively, looking very much like someone who has seen this move in use more than once. And nearly as soon as Koltira turns back toward him, he throws out a hand to focus a healing spell on him. This is always unpleasant business, and another thing to get over with. The green light that looks so soothing on anyone else washes over Koltira to stitch his body whole again; Ashraf has come to think of it as searing green rather than soothing green on him. ]

[Koltira clenches his jaw as the magic does its bloody work. He can feel his skin and shredded muscles knitting together, and more importantly he can feel his body's resistance, how it fights against restoration. The pain is much worse than the wound itself, but he knows it's necessary, so he just bites the inside of his cheek and bears it.

When it's done, he fixes his gaze on Ashraf.]

My thanks, priest.

[ Ashraf meets that gaze directly, inscrutable as it ever is. He has a faint memory of complaining about that once, that pupils in icy, glowing eyes were hard to track; he seems to remember there was also drinking involved. The thought of it almost makes him smile, but of course he doesn't. Recently he's seen a lot of that impassive stare; he'd done a bad job by Koltira, and he wonders if maybe it isn't a blessing that only one of them remembers it. ]

Ashraf. Ashraf Salib.

[ He steps forward, losing some of his solemnity as he re-hooks the golden rods back to his belt and takes to rubbing his hands again for warmth. ]

Now, do you happen to know where we are? I'm almost as lost as I am cold, and what I'm really asking is if you know the way to the nearest warm building.

I do. The apartments are not far. Come along.

[He makes a 'follow me' gesture with his hand. He had considered interrogating Ashraf then and there, but he's loathe to spend more time out in this snowstorm than is strictly necessary. Not to mention it's hard to talk when monsters keep interrupting.]

[ Apartments. Is he still in Exsilium after all, then? Although... no, probably not, the apartments haven't been intact in some time. Frowning to himself he follows after Koltira, although that only lasts for a few steps before he hurries to walk in stride with him instead. ]

What's this place called?

I don't know. I've hardly been here long, myself.

[He's not interested in explaining the situation; there are others better suited to that task. He's much more concerned with the other matter at hand.]

Tell me how you know my name.

Edited 2015-12-28 04:38 (UTC)

[ Not very helpful, but fair enough. That would be Ashraf's focus, if he weren't already so used to people knowing about him without knowing them in turn. Two lifetimes will do that to a guy. He'd glanced curiously at Koltira with his question, but turns his eyes forward again to answer. ]

It's going to be an odd story. But first: you haven't heard of a city named Exsilium, have you?

I have not.

[Koltira wonders if he's dealing with a madman. Meanwhile, he finds that he can barely see two feet ahead of him. Forget the apartments. They'll need a cave, some crevice to slip into while they wait out this storm. He changes direction.]

[ He notes the changes and wonders at it, but he's sure there's some reason for it. He trusts him to lead them where ever they're headed, putting his head down against the snow to walk nearly blindly. ]

I didn't think so, that would be too easy.

[ It's too quick to be a sigh, but it's close. ]

Well, it's a place that used to be run by a group called the Initiative, who brought in a whole lot of people from various worlds to help them win their rebellion. I met you there — a version of you, at least — about fifty years ago. [ He smiles to himself at this point. ] It was more like two years ago, to you. The Initiative dealt in time travel, so that sort of confusion tended to happen often.

Ridiculous.

[He can see the vague outline of a mountain range ahead, and within that, the pale definition of a cave's mouth. He moves towards it purposefully, not stopping until they've reached the cave entrance.]

In here, priest.

[ That's not apartment buildings. But it does look slightly warmer than an open blizzard, so Ashraf is all too happy to duck into the cave entrance. He looks around once he's in, still furiously rubbing his hands together; it's dark, and there's not much to see. Maybe he should let someone who glows and carries an edged weapon go first. He hangs back with that in mind. ]

Oh, definitely ridiculous. You don't need me to prove I know you or anything, do you?

You do not know me.

[Koltira lifts his sword; it's bright enough to serve as a torch. The cave is not deep, and there are remnants of a fire only a little ways in, as well as other evidence of semi-recent occupation. Bones. Tattered rags. Broken weapons. Hmm. Koltira sits down.]

We cannot progress towards the city until the snowstorm settles.

[ He thinks that might have cut at him not so long ago, hearing that in Koltira's voice so definitively. But it wasn't far back he'd just barely talked Koltira back into calling him a friend; he's used to a few cold shoulders. He's certainly earned them.

So he nudges at that expired fire the tip of his shoe, wondering if there's anything left in it to burn. He weighs a few different replies, goes back and forth on a few of them, and ultimately decides to give the point to Koltira uncontested. He keeps his eyes turned down, away from that glowing blade and its owner. ]

Got any flint on you? Matches, maybe a lighter?

[Although Koltira has no need of heat, he likes it all the same--and fires out in the wilderness keep unsuspecting animals at bay. Though, in Koltira's case, such a ward is not for his protection. He fishes in the pouches at his belt for a moment, finds flint, and hands it over.]

Try that.

[Another moment, and he unclasps his heavy, fur-lined cloak.]

And put this on.

[ He's grateful enough for the flint, the cloak as well is a blessing. He takes it with a smile and a grateful nod, quick to brush off any lingering snow on himself and pull it on. ]

Thank you.

[ He wouldn't accept it from most people, but it strikes him as silly to be concerned about Koltira being cold. He crouches, getting to work rearranging the remains of the fire. With a whisper of ruwach a heatless, blue flame springs up to circle him, providing a little more light to work with.

In a moment: ] I could tell you about myself, if you want to hear it. I know a considerable amount about a Koltira, so it would only be fair.

[Hmm. Runic magic. Strange tools for a priest. Koltira glances from the pseudo-flame to Ashraf, then leans back, resting against the rough, damp cave wall. His eyes turn upwards, towards the thin, numerous rows of toothy stalactites lining the ceiling. Freezing water drips onto the floor intermittently, a soft plinking sound that echoes in the otherwise quiet space.]

Go on. It will pass the time, in any case.

[ Sum yourself up for someone you're very familiar with, who has never met you before. It's a daunting task. How have so many people managed it for him before? He spends a second or two rubbing his chin thoughtfully, then a few more working with the flint, still thinking.

Finally: ] I'm a high priest, as I said. I'm from Rune Midgard, which by all accounts is a world that sounds a lot like Azeroth. I've lived two lifetimes -- one as a priest until I was 55, when I gave my life to the Valkyries to be born again. I was married the first time, to a crusader, but she died shortly before I was reborn. [ He glances over with a small smile. ] And I hated the undead, in my first life, until I met a death knight that changed my mind about that.

[Koltira keeps his tone as neutral as ever, mostly because he still doesn't know what to make of this man. What reason would he have to lie, or fabricate an entire history between the two of them? Was it a case of mistaken identity? Or was his mind simply addled?]

Is that so?

[ Would his Koltira say anything more? It seems doubtful. Ashraf's smile is now mostly to himself as he looks back down to the flint, and in a few moments he's got enough of a spark to light a tiny fire. It's not much, and sort of a sad sight, but it's warmth.

But there is one part of him that stays a little offended that Koltira doesn't believe him, or doesn't care, despite his best efforts to push it away. It's that part that makes him ask, as he tosses the flint back: ]

Thassarian isn't here, is he? I haven't seen him in Exsilium for a while.

[Koltira straightens up. He stares directly at Ashraf now, his eyes hardening.]

Are you claiming to know Thassarian, as well?

[ Well, there's a reaction. He feels a little selfishly glad to have gotten it. His gaze is steady on Koltira, and the small smile keeps its place. ]

I am. I considered you both friends, although I knew you longer.

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