A dark space, lit with eerie green light. In front, four hovering pictures. Soft, instrumental music.
And two women, unconscious, in front of them.
"And I can make you fast and tough and heal you. Is great." She pokes the relevant subclasses.
The card glows once more, and envelopes Anya in soft light. When it fades, she is dressed in robes in shades of purple, with a staff strapped across her back.
Eeeee! Soft! Purple!
"I have a staff!!!" She takes it off her back to admire it. "Though I dunno if I wanna carry it around or rely on it? It's super suss and what if it, like, breaks or I lose it? That's so much stress and responsibility."
"I mean, none of the Templars in game seem to notice that people are getting about with staffs strapped to their backs. I mean, Hawke literally uses magic in front of Cullen and he doesn't even notice. Plot immunity?"
"Can we count on that though? Assuming that this is leading to some sort of wacky us-in-Thedas type of thing."
"You're the self-insert fanfic expert. You tell me?" Tabs grins.
"Could go either way? I have no idea. But just in case I'm gonna get some non suspicious clothes and learn how to do magic without the staff. Being a mage in Thedas is fucking dangerous." She pokes at her backstory. "Am I an apostate?"
Anya, no last name known, is a recent apostate. Originally from the Anderfels, she was brought to the Tower at Montsimmard as a child, and raised there. She was Harrowed at age 16, the process taking 6 hours. A few months ago, she was travelling with a retinue of mages and Templars to the palace at Halamshiral, to entertain nobles, when she attacked the phylactery chest, destroying them, and disappeared into the nearby Dales.
She can speak the King's Tongue, Orlesian and Anderfellian.
"Holy shit, I'm a badarse. And I'm from the Anderfels!"
"Ooooooh, that's why I like you so much. Makes sense now."
Anya hugs her Tabs. "Is it your turn now?"
"Yes!" Tabs bounces, her arms doing that weird thing she does when she's excited. "And thanks for going first and showing me how not to fuck up."
The cards flip back over and reshuffle, the races coming back up.
"And are we really surprised?" Tabs says, pressing on the elf card. She glows, the same as Anya, but instead of the nothing that happened, she becomes a little more lithe, her face slightly pointier.
And also her ears sharpen into high points, and a sprawl of blood-red vines appears on her face. "Ooooh! Anya! I'm Dalish!"
"Legit your life is now complete."
"I don't think I could be any happier. This moment is perfect. No, wait, I could also be a robot."
The elf card flips, revealing the classes again.
She does hover over the rogue option for a moment, but pulls a face. "You know, I feel like that's playing into the elf stereotype too much. I'm coming for Fenris's brand."
She taps the warrior option, and a glow envelopes her. When it fades, she's in light looking armour, a two handed sword with vine and leaf decorations strapped to her back.
"Pretty. Fenris better watch his back. What's your backstory? Do we know each other?"
Tabitha, of clan Lothorian, has lived in the Dales her whole life, one of the few Dalish clans to not roam far from the lands of their origin. She has spent her days protecting her friend, a mage historian, as he delved into ancient ruins, discovering lost secrets.
She has knowledge of the King's Tongue, and what little of the Elvhen language the Dalish could recover.
"Hmmm. Apparently I'm showing you how to get to the Free Marches. Why, however, seems to be elusive. Why would you wanna go there? Next to Orlais, it has the most amount of Templars?"
"Uh. Yeah. That sounds like the worst idea."
"Though, uh, depending what year it is, I have a reason to go to Kirkwall..."