GASOLINE is a post Tresspasser Dragon Age: Inquisition roleplay set in 9:50 Wintermarch, Dragon. The Inquisition has been disbanded, refusing to bend knee to the Chantry. Solas knows to much about the inquisition anyways- their weaknesses, fears, names, who their families are. He could use this information to his advantage if they were to revolt against him. He plans on destroying the world, creating a new one in his perfect image. Release the Evanuris, bring the world back to the time of the elves. But, unknown to most of the world, Solas is slowly becoming corrupted- and rumors of the sixth blight and a new archdemon emerging are lose on the tongues of spies and maids alike. The new Inquisition, under it's new alias, works diligently from the shadows and away from the eyes of nobility and the hierarchy of Orlais and Ferelden to gain information and armies to combat this new threat on the horizon. The fate of Thedas is in your hands- what role will you play in it's future? Will you be the light in the storm, or the gasoline that helps it to burn?

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all the people say You can't wake up, this is not a GASOLINE. dream You're part of a machine you are not a human being

 
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 Remember, Remember, the Fifth of November, Open
"Gold in peace, steel in war." DISCORD: Basileus#8715
Basileus
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An uneasy peace was upon the Empire of Orlais and it was a peace that the Marquis of Montsimmard had no intentions of allowing to continue much longer. The house of Montsimmard had been insulted too many times by the usurper Celene for the Marquis to ever allow the usurper to reign in peace. In the end either he or the usurper would end up dead and the Marquis had no intentions of being the dead one. Many mistakes had been made in the previous civil war and many lessons had been learned, with the lessons of the past the Marquis would ensure that the usurper and all those who supported her would be hung by the neck for their treasonous actions against the deceased Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons. While the Grand Duke was now dead, betrayed by the Inquisition, his supporters were still alive and the Inquisition was no longer in a position to back the usurper Celene.

To achieve his aim of bringing justice and retribution upon the traitors, the Marquis had decided to host a gathering to commemorate those who had died fighting for Gaspard. The Marquis intended to use the gathering to test the waters and see who was still devoted to the cause, figure out who could be relied upon in event of a second civil war. In order to alleviate any suspicion of his actions, the Marquis decided to host the event on the anniversary of his father's death, if anyone from the usurper was to ask about his intentions he would merely tell them that he was remembering his father and the people he had fought alongside during the war. If the Empress attempted to act against him for such an action she was sure to lose support among many of the nobility and the Marquis did not intended to go down without a fight. While he did not intend to immediately start the civil war again, if need be he would. Ever since the beginning of the peace the Marquis had been heavily militarising his people and hiring large quantities of mercenaries.

"It is wonderful seeing so many friends and comrades from the war gathering to honour those of us who are no longer with us." The Marquis began in a speech as he carefully observed the guests in front of him beneath his masks, looking for any hint of either loyalty or disloyalty to the cause which was so dear to the Marquis. "While we have all given a hell of a fight against the Empress, in the end we were forced to submit, not because of defeat in the battlefield but by the treachery of out side organisations, but alas we cannot truly blame the Inquisition, a rabbit will always side with a rabbit after all." The Marquis proclaimed with vigour and rage, seeking to incite righteous anger among his peers. The Empress had after all raised her rabbit lover to the peerage, clearly the result of backroom deals with the Inquisitior. "This however is all common knowledge and I am sure none of you came to hear me rant about it, instead let us spend this night in somber remembrance of our fallen friends, gone but not forgotten. Their memories shall be honoured." Honoured indeed, honoured as martys once the second civil war was won. "Now let us drink and feast while we remember and honour our fallen!"

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BY MITZI
"Through the secrets that I have seen. Wash the sorrow from off my skin" DISCORD: n/a
Dan
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And in the naked light I saw
—————————— ten thousand p e o p l e or more——————————

Blending in, remaining silent, pretending she didn't exist. They were all the things she was good at. After all, she had spent a majority of her life doing just that. Namely in the company of Quen. Aside from that she wasn't any good at fighting, let alone killing. Which was why she offered up herself for the task. Having recently fallen into servitude to Asharen (despite how Asharen stated she was a friend and not a servant) Cíwen, regardless of her role offered to play a part in the small scheme of things. Asharen had heard of a gathering and possible uprising against The current Empress. Yet, knew little of anything of those involved. So, naturally being an elf and one of little importance she decided to attend such a feast as one of the many servants. She didn't expect to get spoken to, aside from fellow servants but she would keep her ears out for any talk of war.

Taeris thankfully knew little of her actions. Had he of done, then she was sure that he would have stopped her. Although she did wonder how long it would take for him to hear of her offer and she doubted it would go down well with him and Asharen when he found out. Regardless, she wanted to help. She had to do something. Already they had done so much for her and she could not repay them. She had met up with Taeris under the service of Asharen and the pair had talked about returning back to Denerim. If only to find her parents. They had yet to get that far, for a few months now the pair had stayed under the protection of the Circle of Dragons. That did not mean she had forgotten! if anything she was more than eager to carry on her journey. But, so much kept happening she wondered if she would ever be able to get away again.

With a jug in hand, did she move about the table refilling empty tankards. She wore her hair loose, the gentle waves would fall to the base of her back and she wore a simplistic blue dress. Suitable enough for a servant of course. Yet, even as she went about her business she could feel some eyes upon her. A feeling she had once grown used to. Now, almost returning to such a role. Her skin would crawl. None the less, she did her best to keep an indifferent expression in between service despite listening to the talk that surrounded the table. It just so happened that currently, a speech was being delivered one of mourning. At least, that was what it appeared to be through her eyes. She knew very little of human politics, then again why would she? She was an elf, and an elf had no right to know of such things. With the speech over a rowdy cheer seemed to fill the hall. A celebration of the fallen. It was poetic and in all honesty, it was good to hear.

She had only just served one of the men before a touch on her back caused her to jump. When focused upon other matter, she had completely forgotten to keep an eye on her surroundings. With a small squeak, stifled as it was. Did she trip forward, jug and all. Having only just managed to catch herself did the jug continue to fall. Down it went, and the contents just so happened to pour over the man who had only just finished such a hearty speech. With wide eyes did she splutter an apology. "Messere! please forgive me! How foolish and stupid of me. Please. I beg your forgiveness." She pleaded, partly lowering herself in a bow/curtsy of sorts. Only she could mess it up! She had offered to do one thing! One thing! and her clumsiness would no doubt be punished now.

Tag: @PHILIPPE DE MONTSIMMARD | The Mountains | Notes; just aw!

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"evil be to him who evil thinks" DISCORD: mochairishcreme#3689
mocha
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Laurien detested such frivolous functions- he didn’t understand the point of such peacocking, even though he had grown up in such life of luxury for a majority of his waking existence. Adoring the same silver mask he wore to the shit-show masquerade at the Winter Palace- gods that was a joke. Demons, gods, who would have thought that he would have found himself in such company, such dangerous affairs. The drama of it all was sickening as it appeared that even gods had mortal tendencies, the scandal of such an affair between the former Inquisitor and the bastard apostate- this “Dread Wolf”. Laurien had to wonder how anything ever got done in that nefarious Inquisition.

Grabbing a flute of wine from a passing elf maid, Laurien took light sips from the drink before turning his attention towards the Marquis that was hosting such an occasion, his voice echoing through the room and silencing those that were once enjoying idle conversation. ”It is wonderful seeing so many friends and comrades from the war gathering to honor those of us who are no longer with us. While we have all given a hell of a fight against the Empress, in the end we were forced to submit, not because of defeat in the battlefield but by the treachery of outside organizations, but alas we cannot truly blame the Inquisition, a rabbit will always side with a rabbit after all.” Laurien rolled his eyes at the slang directed towards the former Inquisitor- even though he wasn’t a part of the race, he still detested the demeaning terms that humans used for the elven people. He found them incredibly distasteful.

Laurien downed the rest of his drink before returning his attention towards the Marquis, absentmindedly placing his empty glass on a silver tray as the maid walked past. ”This however is all common knowledge and I’m sure none of you came to hear me rant about it, instead let us spend this night in somber remembrance of our fallen friends, gone but not forgotten. Now let us drink and feast while we remember and honor our fallen!” A wave of claps vibrated through the air and bounced against the walls, Laurien joining them with a dainty clap as the tips of his fingers met the palm of his opposing hand. And just as the speech was over, a clumsy silver haired elf managed to trip forward, and in doing so ended up drenching the Marquis in wine. ”Messere! Please forgive me! How foolish and stupid of me. Please. I beg your forgiveness.” she pled with a partial boy/curtsy of sorts.

Laurien sighed before joining the scene, waiving his hand in her direction to dismiss her. ”Be more careful next time love. Older men do enjoy grabbing the backsides of young skirts such as yourself. If you can’t handle such attention then you are in the wrong profession.” Laurien spoke before turning his attention towards the soaked Marquis, removing his cloak and flinging it over the wet man’s shoulders. ”I know you probably don’t know me, ser, and if you do it’s probably very little. But,” he paused and gracefully bowed, ”Laurien Montilyet at your service. I remember your father well, Renault was kind and he still kept connections with my father even thought the Montilyet family was so carelessly cast out of Orlais. Gaspard had promised my family’s return to the Orlais nobility, I hope that with your efforts against the crown, we will be provided the same kindness Gaspard offered.” He said nonchalantly.

”But,” Laurien spoke before grabbing the rag from a maid that so anxiously ran to aid the Marquis, then handed it to the man. ”Let’s get you out of those wet clothes. It will be terribly unbecoming of the Marquis to allow his guests to see him sopping.”

tagged: @PHILIPPE DE MONTSIMMARD, @[CÍWEN LAVELLAN].
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