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

Drawn to the Coastline

[whattheydefend]

[Faramir has been kneeling, looking at shells near the water's edge. They are both like and unlike those he remembers from Dol Amroth, years ago. It is hard not to see the ocean and wonder if his own land lies on the other side, and if a ship might be found to return him there...but given what strange circumstances brought him and so many others hither, it seems unlikely that a return could be accomplished by any means he knows.

When he hears himself hailed he turns and stands, looking the stranger over with perceptive eyes. They are much of a type, in truth: bearing both bow and sword and the callouses that speak of familiarity with their use, and armor that has seen more than one battle, though Faramir the Tree of Gondor on his chest whereas the other man's armor is unmarked. Even the man's features are not wholly unfamilliar. There is something about them that nags at Faramir's mind, like a face seen long ago, in a painting or perhaps a dream...

But, a question was asked. Faramir can only shake his head.]

No, I fear not. Such folk I have seen, but not here, and not in such numbers.

The Sons of Gondor are here!

[elessar]

[ Aragorn's could feel his heart sink the second the man confirms his worst fear. Even though he was half-expecting that answer, Aragorn hoped he could put this dreadful ordeal behind him. The ranger doesn't have an ounce of luck, does he? No matter where he goes or how far he searches, he simply can't find them. It's as if the hobbits have all but vanished and with them, the One Ring. Aragorn isn't the type to bemoan his fate, but he certainly bemoans theirs.

Death by Sauron's hands is too cruel for such gentle creatures. ]

It's as I feared.

[ Aragorn mutters as he comes to a slow halt. The gentle sea breeze is cool against his skin, but it does nothing to ease his frustration. ]

The hobbits are not here.

[Just when he was about to turn his gaze towards the horizon, he catches a glimpse of symbol woven unto that handsome tunic. Those perceptive blue eyes blink in surprise. ]

A son of Gondor?

[ He peers at the stranger's face in shock. ]

[whattheydefend]

[The stranger's recognition and shock in turn surprise Faramir, who has not yet found anyone from his own world in all this strange place. Neither did he know for sure that the stranger spoke of halflings--though now it seems it is so.

He looks closer, and sees something of the stamp of Gondor in the man's face and bearing, and something more of deep, unquestionable nobility. But at the same time there is a touch of the elves about him.

A puzzle, that is certain.]

I am. Faramir is my name, second son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor. You do speak of hobbits, then, the halfling folk of the Shire? Who are you?

[elessar]

[ Aragorn schools his expression once the other states his name and lineage. Fate is toying with him now, isn't it? How else could he possibly explain this? While he's grateful to meet another hailing from Arda, Aragorn is honestly on edge. ]

That explains...the resemblance.

[ He mutters quietly. Hopefully, Faramir won't question him further. Aragorn isn't eager to mention how he knows of them. It would require certain secrets told and explained in great detail. ]

Strider.

[ He dares not give his real name. ]

Faramir is from the middle of book three, sorry! Hope that's okay?

[whattheydefend]

[Faramir goes very still, his eyes widening.]

That is a name I have heard. And not the only one you bear, if those who told me spoke truly, as I judged they did at the time. Frodo and Sam they were called. Are they two of those whom you seek?

[He suspects who you are, Aragorn--nay, he knows it. He recognizes those features now, from statues of the kings of old in Minas Tirith, cold marble here made into living flesh. And even now, with all confused and chaos and Faramir himself more than a little convined he has been slain...even now there is a thrill of awe and hope, at the thought that a king might yet return to Gondor.]

It's more than fine! I know the books too~

[elessar]

[A pang of guilt shoots through his heart once Faramir speaks of Frodo. He had to send the Ringbearer on his way. The Fellowship collapsed with Gandalf gone, and all of his efforts to hold them together fell to the wayside after Moria. It's a wound that stings, especially after losing the others. Merry and Pippin may still draw breath, but Boromir---]

...The Ring. [He mutters.] Mustn't reach the White City.

[His tone is stern, but his expression fraught with worry.]

If you know of them, then you understand their plight.

[Aragorn slowly circles Denethor's second-born, his gaze sharp like daggers.]

The Rangers of Ithilien wouldn't impede them, would they?

[It's a question he loathes to ask, but he must.]

:)

[whattheydefend]

[Faramir stands unflinching in the face of this wariness and worry, for he well understands its source.]

Briefly, we did--for their own sake as well as for my duty, for they almost wandered headlong into a battlefield. One night only did I keep them, and learned much from them during that time. Including of the burden they carried--and of how they parted company from your Fellowship, and why.

[Now, now his eyes are sorrowful. Boromir, my brother... He swallows and looks away.]

I understand your fear. But I sent them onwards, with my blessing, to continue their dreadful path.

[elessar]

[It's not with words alone that Faramir dispelled his fears, but rather by the sincerity within his gaze. Aragorn stands there rigid like the statues of old, his gaze unreadable. The silence between them is an uncomfortable one, that is until Aragorn lets out a harsh sigh. There's relief in his eyes. Relief and sorrow.]

Goheno nin, Faramir. [He apologies in elvish with great hurt and sincerity.]

I've done your brother and our people a great injustice for one too many years.

[He crosses his hand over his heart, and bows. King or not, Aragorn knows his fault in all this. He allowed his fear to dominate him over the long decades. Rather than embrace his destiny, he fled. A king in exile.]

I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn.

[At last, he gives his true name. He can still hear the whispers of "Elessar" within his thoughts, but he wishes not to claim that name yet. Aragorn vows only to use that name once he wears the crown.]

Well met.

not intending to app but happy to continue this anyway, if you like? =) also to PSL anytime

[whattheydefend]

[Faramir too bows, lower yet. This is his king--he knows it from Frodo's telling, but more, he feels it in his heart. No longer is Boromir's willingness to be led by a ranger from the North a mystery, if it was this one.]

I know of no injustice committed by your hands...my king.

[Quiet words, but sincere, spoken in the same language Aragorn himself uses--altered a little, perhaps for the men of Gondor speak Sindarin a little differently from the elves' truer speech. But he does not doubt of being understood.]

Indeed, well met. There are questions I would ask of you, if you will hear them. Most particularly of my brother. But...not here, I think.

[And oh, how his heart hurts as he thinks of Boromir! He still has only guesses of what may have happened there, and wishes more surety, though he knows it will hurt.]

I would never turn down a psl! This is one of my favorite threads

[elessar]

[ Aragorn's eyes light up with surprise once he hears the reply. Even though the Gondorian take on Elvish is a little different, Aragorn understands him quite well. It's been too long since he last spoke to a fellow Dúnadan. Too long. The Rangers of the North were scattered ever since the death of his father, and even when Aragorn came of age, there was only a handful of them left. ]

Hannon allen.

[ The relief within his tone is obvious. Aragorn wouldn't know what to do with himself otherwise. ]

Aphado nin.

[ He's more than willing to indulge Faramir, but this isn't the best setting for such a deep conversation. Even though he just met Faramir, Aragorn feels this odd sense of kinship between them that rival his love for the Elves. There's also this need to protect Faramir, but he won't speak of this. After failing his brother, Aragorn vows not to fail him. ]

It's the solitude that we need, and I know of a decent place.