Test Drive #1

[felldenmods]

Welcome to the August test drive—our first in fellden! We're so excited to have you with us.

A few things of note:

✦ Test drive threads can be considered game-canon if you choose. They're essentially in a shared dreamscape and take place between your character leaving their world, and arriving in the audience hall with their faction leader.
✦ Reserves are open and will continue to be until 11:59 PM UTC on Tuesday, August 20th; they are not necessary to apply! They're valid for the first four days of the application cycle.
✦ Applications will open at 12:01 AM UTC on the 21st, and remain open until 11:59 PM UTC on the 27th. The IC & OOC intro logs will be posted two days later.
✦ Questions? We have a FAQ that's chock full of good information! If they are test drive specific, we have a top level thread below that allows for OOC questions to be posted.
✦ The network is available to use! No matter where your character is, their compass either arrived on their person or available in the Gods Wood. Please feel free to include a network post in your top-levels! Once opened, the compass will display instructions on use, such as using voice-commands to activate it. (Apologies for missing including this on the initial test drive!)

All set?

Perfect! Welcome to Fellden.

AS THE MOON RISES. You’ll find yourself just outside the Temple doors, which will be locked if you try to open them. A little rude, keeping you out after bringing you all this way. The thing is, you can hear a lot of commotion in the distance, and smoke rising from the center of a district; you may want to check that out. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire! Except the smoke is not at all something to be concerned over. Instead, people are gathered near a large bonfire in the decorated city square, drinking and carousing, singing songs of celebration; Moon saviors have arrived! War winners! The residents of the city laugh and sing and dance in pairs throughout the square, grateful for those who have come to aid them. Their merriment doesn’t dwindle as the sun begins to set on the horizon, twin moons rising in its place. When you (and other new arrivals) are finally noticed by the revelers, do not expect to be left alone! Flower crowns will be deposited upon your heads, food and drink placed into your hands, while live musicians play loud enough for the dead to hear. You’ll be invited to dance, to drinking games, and offered food and flowers and other items of value. Some may cry when they look into your face, thanking you for becoming their champions during this long and exhaustive war. Hopefully you’re here to enjoy the festivities. Sneaking off is just fine, too, but don’t expect to be let go of quietly; the people of the Moon Temple are so happy to see you! Enjoy the celebration while it lasts long into the night.

THE SETTING STARS. Unlike the Temple, your arrival to the Court of Stars is met with a rather somber greeting, however expressions are relieved, despite any emotional guard that may be up. A gathering of knights, weary from a skirmish along the border they're returning from, pat you on the back and lead you through an open air courtyard. All the gathered people of the Emperor's Court look up from their tasks, giving the passing Otherworlders a knowing nod. There's gratitude in their eyes, but that's all the welcome you'll receive: your presence is appreciated, but growing an attachment is another heartache for those that care so deeply for their faction fellows. The silence is broken when a high-ranking member of the guard gives the proclamation: "Our heroes have arrived! Court defenders, world travelers! Help has come from the far lands to aid us in our battles for our Emperor, for all of Fellden!" From there, the few knights that have not yet departed will lead you through the Court's castle, a brief tour of the most important areas (dining hall, housing wing, guard barracks, and the throne room) is given before they instruct you to rest, because the real excitement begins when the sun falls behind the horizon. Left to drift, you can explore the castle, or venture out to the surrounding city as it prepares for the celebration the Starfolk have in store for the returned soldiers and, now, the new arrivals. You'll be invited to the party that spreads across the entire Court city, drawn into large circle dances, and will find that the locals become more at ease and welcoming the longer you spend with them.

WELCOME TO THE GODS WOOD. Between one blink and the next, your eyesight has seemingly been stolen from you. Or, perhaps it’s more likely that something is covering your eyes? Yes, that’s definitely a blindfold tied around the back of your head, although quite the mystery as to how it came to be there. You vaguely remember a wolf that may or may not have spoken to you, but the blindfold is certainly a new addition to the situation. Once removed, you’ll find yourself in the thick of the woods, with no path or directional indicators in sight. The moon is obscured by the tree line, and the stars above do nothing to light your path; seems like removing the blindfold wasn’t as helpful as you may have thought. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, it’s obvious that you are not alone in this; other people are removing their blindfolds just as you are, staring blearily into the dark of the forest with a similar lack of understanding to how they came to be here. Thankfully, you’ll find some nearby travel packs with self-lighting torches, a few rations, and your faction-provided communicator. The compass, unfortunately, remains broken, which means you’ll have to find your way out of the woods without it. Hopefully your sense of direction is passable! Whether you team up with others, or go your separate way is entirely up to you, but you must find your way out, and the fog rolling in is not going to be of any assistance. This is a Dropping, and the Gods Wood is not kind to loiterers.

DRAWN TO THE COASTLINE. Needing an escape from the hectic energy that greeted you in your faction, an empathetic bystander pointed you in the direction of a nearby transport mirror, which you either stepped into without stating a destination, or didn't give one with enough clarity for the mirror to understand. Spitting you out on the beach just outside Kyst, it doesn't seem keen to let you back the way you came; temperamental teleportation magic. As the largest trade city in all of Fellden, there is no shortage of things to do here! Shopping with what coin was hoisted upon you before your departure, mapping out the city itself to memorize the in's and out's, enjoying a drink on the house at a local tavern where you can get into a mean game of cards with some faction soldiers, or even meeting someone else that seems to have stumbled into this world just as you did. Perhaps you're more keen to the outdoors, rather than the bustle of a large city, wandering away from the city just far enough to find a stretch of pristine beach and inviting crystal clear waters of the ocean; the salty air fills your lungs while the rays of the midday sun are almost blinding against the swath of bright white sand that meets the crashing waves. Regardless of what you decide to do, or where you end up, you're in the closest thing to No Man's Land you can get; enjoy your time fraternizing with the enemy, make some new friends in this neutral land, or stick with those from your own faction to get a lay of the land.

Comments

coastline!

[direly]

[ Sansa jumps a little at the sudden voice calling to her, having been entranced with the waves for a moment, pausing in her steps. She looks to him and walks a few steps closer to hear him. Not too close. She feels hesitant around people she doesn't recognize, too. ]

... are you looking for children?

[ Because the only people she's seen as small as was... well. Tyrion's size. ]

I haven't seen many on this beach yet.

[elessar]

[ Aragorn keeps a responsible distance once he sees the alarm upon her face. ]

Forgive me. [ His tone is gentler now, softer. ] I mean you no harm.

[ He doubts she'll trust him, especially when he looks so foul. The ranger spent the last few weeks roaming the wilds. His cloth is poor but not tattered and his sword hangs from his hip in a worn leather scabbard. He looks unkempt and just as wild as the wilderness itself. However, there's a strange hint of kindness lurking within his gaze. A kindness that's rarely seen in the gaze of men. Still, Aragorn looks just as dangerous as any sellsword. ]

They would take offense being called children.

[ He jokes with a faint smile. ]

They're older than what they seem but only half the height of a man.

[direly]

[ Sansa used to not know how to read people. It took her time to see what people wanted, if they were lying or trying to hide something. Littlefinger had been a repugnant man but he taught her many good lessons in trying to understand people. And it's because of those lessons - and retaining much of her own sensibilities - that she is able to see that kindness through the appearance. He reminds her a bit of Bronn in that.

His description is enough to make her own mouth turn up in a smile, thinking of Tyrion. He was called "half-man" by a few people, after all. ]

I know someone like that but I don't think that's who you're looking for. I cannot say I've seen anyone else like that here yet.

[elessar]

Probably not. [ He admits with a sigh. ] Mr. Underhill and his companions aren't very good at making friends.

[ The hobbits are stout little creatures but they're quite judgmental at times. ]

If I may ask, who's this friend of yours?

[ Truth be told, he's a little curious about her. Not many have seen a halfling before and yet she proclaims otherwise. He doubts her friend is among the four but Aragorn wants to be certain. ]

[direly]

[ Mr. Underhill, eh? Definitely not a name she's heard before. ]

Where I'm from, he's mostly referred to as a "dwarf". To me, he's Tyrion Lannister. Have you met him?

[ She's edging more into the "likely not" category but maybe he'll surprise her. ]

[elessar]

[ Normally, just mere mention of the Lannisters would've garnered either praise or scorn. However, Aragorn gives neither since he's ignorant of their reputation. He merely shakes his head . ]

No, I have not. [ Aragorn quickly with a frown. ] But I know of dwarves and isn't a dwarven name.

[direly]

His family...

[ This feels awkward to talk about because she knows Tyrion deserves more respect than his family ever gave him. ]

Is not like him. And he is not like most dwarves where I'm from because of his family name. It sounds like it is very different where you're from.

[ And she can't help but be curious about that. ]

[elessar]

Are they nobility? [ The question might sound awkward to her but Aragorn truly knows nothing of Westeros and their houses. He's an outsider. ] The Durin's Folk were of nobility.

They were the masters of Ered Mithrin, the Grey Mountains.

[ Quietly wondering the differences between their worlds, Aragorn invites the woman to follow as he keeps walking along the shore. Even though he doubts he'll find the hobbits, Aragorn still holds out hope. ]

North of the Grey Mountains lay the Northern Waste, a vast cold region of mostly ice and snow. In the west, where the Grey Mountains met with the Misty Mountain, rose Mount Gundabad, a Dwarven holy site that fell on dark times.

[direly]

[ She nods, ]

Noble and very rich.

[ Lannister gold wasn't just in reference to their hair, after all. But she falls into step beside him, the wind pushing against them as they went but it was cool and gentle on the skin. But what he says immediately has her intrigued. ]

"Masters"? Dwarves were masters? Of kingdoms or actual mountains?

[elessar]

Not many nobles are worthy of their riches. [ The slight disdain in his tone is telling. ] But often the two go hand in hand.

[ Her disbelief wins a glance as the wind whips at them both. The shore here harsh and jagged but there's an odd beauty here. It reminds him of some of the regions he traveled during his time in the south. ]

Both. [ He answers with a bit of a grin. ] The Durin's Folk built Erebor within the depths of the Lonely Mountain. They remained there throughout the Second Age.

[ The ranger comes to a slow halt once he notices a change in the terrain. It seems to get even rockier from here. ]

Are Dwarves frowned upon in your realm?

[direly]

[ She nods at that first statement, knowing it very well. How many nobles had killed innocents and betrayed oaths to gain more and more during the war that had started when Joffrey killed her father? Too many to count.

But the awe on her face as he describes the accomplishments of Dwarves in his own world says more than she can in that moment. She never could've imagined such a thing. So many people in Westeros focus on what Tyrion isn't, what he can't do. And other dwarves like him are laughed at and mocked. Yet in another world, they carve kingdoms in the mountains.

She stops in her steps, still barefoot and preferring to stay in the soft sand. It's just as well because she looks down at the ground, feeling guilt over her own treatment of the man when she was younger. ]

Yes. Very.

[ She looks back up, ]

Mocked and jeered, treated worse than court fools. It's often considered a... deformity.

[ There's a sour taste in her mouth at saying the word now. A few years ago, would she have noticed such things? She shakes her head some, ]

What you describe seems impossible. I doubt many from my own realm would believe you.

[elessar]

[ It's then that Aragorn notices the woman's lack of footwear. He gives her a confused glance. Surely she could've found some provisions in the city unless something foul transpired. His gaze turns sympathetic. Perhaps it would be better to get her somewhere safe before pressing onward. ]

Then I invite them to speak to the Longbeards themselves.

[ He grumbles as he leads the woman away from the rockier path. ]

But I fear a Dwarf won't humor them without an ax at hand.

[ After a brief moment of silence, Aragorn turns to her again. ]

Where are you from? Judging by your appearance, you could pass for Rohirrim.

[direly]

[ So captivated by this talk of a different world, Sansa kept her own shoes tucked behind her back as they walked. She hadn't thought to put them back on. Even now, she still finds the sand more comforting to walk along. As well as not looking forward to wiping them down enough to put back into said shoes.

"Longbeards" and axes make her think of the Greyjoys and their pillaging ways. She follows him again and her brow creases once more at descriptors she doesn't understand. ]

The Kingdom of the North. It's one of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. I am Sansa Stark of House Stark.

[ A pause. ]

I do not believe we are from realms that are in any way close to each other.

[elessar]

Weteros?

[The name sounds foreign but too similar to the dialect he speaks. Westron is the common tongue among men. The Wood Elves vary between Sindarin and Silvan, while the High Elves speak Quenya. The Dwarfs even have their own tongue, Khuzdul. Aragorn is better schooled in Sindarin than anything else thanks to Lord Elrond's tutelage, but no would possibly guess that since his Westron is that good.

He gives Sansa a curious glance, his gaze lit with surprise.]

Forgive me too speaking so freely, my lady. [He inclines his head apologetically.] It seems we truly do hail from two different worlds.

[There's subtle hint of fascination in his tone.]

I go by many names, but others have settled on "Strider".

[direly]

[ Shaking her head, ]

You have done nothing to offend me. I am curious to hear more about your world, if you would wish to share it.

[ Followed by, ]

Is "Strider" really your name?

[ Because that sounds more and more like a sellsword standing before her. ]

[elessar]

Not truly. [He admits with a lighthearted smirk.] It's how the commonfolk regards us.

[Strider certainly beats being called 'Longshanks' in his opinion. The hobbit who cursed him did so with both fists held high. He can't help but chuckle as recalls the scene. Between all the names he accumulated over the years, Aragorn almost prefers 'Strider' sometimes. It allows him to avoid the confusion that usually follows whenever he states his true name.]

Aragorn. [He announces after some thought.] Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the former Chieftain of the Dúnedain.

[Aragorn glances over at Sansa with a playful smirk.]

Much like you, we Dúnedain hail from the north.

[direly]

[ Ah, that's a more fitting name. She repeats it softly to herself, smiling. ]

You look like you would be of the North. The way you carry yourself, the way you speak.

[ Though he's a bit more... polite than most plain-speaking Northerners but she's not going to be that pedantic. ]

What was it like there? Aside from "cold", I imagine.

[elessar]

[Despite being a hardened Ranger of the North and would-be king, Aragorn bashfully averts his gaze once Sansa repeats his name. His name sounds much sweeter than it should from her lips, or maybe he's just not used to hearing his name uttered by others. He has lived too long as "Strider" among the eyes of the common-folk, and not enough as Aragorn.

He ought to change that, especially since he's not a sellsword.]

A compliment I'll hold dear.

[He says with a smile that betrays his usually stoic expression.]

The lands of Arnor were rich and fertile since left untouched at the end of the Second Alliance. Arnor is sheltered by the snowy peaks of the Misty Mountains and the icy gulf of Lune.

[Aragorn pauses for a moment once they find a road leading back to Kyst. The port city isn't too far away.]

It's all but abandoned now, left to the wayside thanks to wars and famine, but Arnor's wild beauty stays intact. The forests are thick and lush with all sorts of beast. While danger lurks within every shadow, remnants the past lingers in the form of ancient watchtowers and mighty fortresses built during the twilight of the Second Age.

[direly]

[ Sansa smiles as she listens, only stopping to wipe the sand off her feet and put her shoes back on. No good in going on a road barefoot.

Once she has them on, she rights herself and muses aloud, ]

Your land continues to share similarities with the North I know. It is a very vast, very large, and beautiful place. But cold and harsh, woods are dark, green only vibrant during Summer, villages and towns spread out far from each other. Rivers and marshes are further south and the snow more plentiful the further north you go, blistering the skin.

[ She remembers the trek to the Wall well. Sometimes quietly amazed that she didn't get as sick as she could have. ]