OPEN.

[degenere]

FORM: sending crystal
SENDER: Val de Foncé
RECIPIENT: everyone, you cannot escape
WHAT: joke time
WHEN: a slightly respectful length of time after the death announcemet. emphasis on slightly.
NOTES: full offense, but you guys smell

Inquisition.

[Very serious, very Orlesian.]

There were three Fereldans walking the streets of Kirkwall and they came upon a large brown pile. As the streets of Kirkwall are so very narrow, the brown pile was quite blocking their way, so that they had but two choices to them: they could either tramp through the pile, or they could turn back.

The first Fereldan approached the pile, leaned down, and looked very hard at it. "By the Lady!" he said. "This looks like shit."

The second Ferelden approached the pile beside him, leaned down, and took a great big sniff. "Maker!" he cried. "This smells of shit!"

The third Ferelden approached the pile beside his companions, leaned down, put his finger into the pile, and the put his finger in his mouth. "By Andraste's sword!" he exclaimed. "This tastes of shit!"

The three Fereldens turned to go back the way that they had come, saying to one another, "It's a good thing we didn't walk in that!"

[GET IT.]

There! Now our mood is lightened. I welcome anyone that would try to outmatch me in jokes.

Comments

[pinprick]

[Not here, because responding to this man would acknowledge he exists and is related to Nate]

[degenere]

[clearly they do not share the sense of humor gene. quelle sadness.]

[mactears]

[keenly]

Here's one we have in Ferelden: What can an Orlesian do in five minutes?

Surrender twice.

[mactears]

[loghain has ur back forever now jsyk]

[degenere]

Aha!

[Not quite a laugh. More like an exclamation of, I get it! But also:]

How does one surrender twice? Was the first not sufficient?

[keenly]

Once for effectiveness, twice for good measure. Ostensibly. But you don't see me picking apart your jokes.

[byblow]

What do the Fex have in common with clever Fereldans? In Thedas there’s never been a confirmed sighting of either.

How do you blind a Fereldan? Hand him a bottle of whisky.

[ Obviously his accent is Fereldan. But going on, he does a passable imitation of an Orlesian when called for. ]

A Fereldan living in Orlais got sick of all the jokes people told about him, so he went home one night and memorized the capital of every nation in Thedas. The next day he told his Orlesian friends what he’d done, and one of them said, “Sure you did, Gareth. What’s the capital of Tevinter?” And he said, “T.”

An Orlesian walks into a tavern in Jader and says, “Who wants to hear a Fereldan joke?” And the bartender says, “Before you go any further, you should know I’m Fereldan, and so is Gareth Lloyd over there, and Gareth Baker in the back, and so’s Moran here, and she’s stronger than all of us. You still want to tell that joke?” And the Orlesian says, “No, not if I will have to explain it four times.”

[degenere]

[ASTONISHING. A self-aware Fereldan with good jokes doing a... fairly good Orlesian accent. Val is more than amused, and laughs.]

Amazing. You have done this before, haven't you. A contest of jokes.

[It is a contest so it must continue!]

A Fereldan wins a fantastic horse in a contest. Pure luck! He rides through the streets waving at everyone, so that they can admire his horse. One day, he is accosted by Antivan bandits. The bandits drag him from the horse and draw a circle in the dirt, and they tell the Fereldan, "If you step out of that circle, we will kick your ass." And then they pick up their knives and begin butchering and skinning the beautiful horse. Such a waste, and such a pity, yes?

But when the Antivan bandits look back at the Fereldan, they find that he is smiling. They cut the head from the horse and now, the Fereldan begins to laugh. So the bandits go to him and ask, "Why are you laughing? We just slaughtered your horse!"

The Fereldan says, "I know, but I stepped out of the circle nine times."

[byblow]

[ Alistair laughs. If Ferelden doesn't want him to laugh, maybe Ferelden shouldn't have kicked him out.

—no, that's not fair. He would have laughed before all of that, too. ]

Now you're dragging Antiva into this? They've done nothing wrong.

[el_tybs]

There's a gentleman here who overheard your joke and they're very upset. [Please pause as he waits out the triad.] He says that 'they're streets are not narrow'.

[degenere]

Your pardon. Your-- gentleman, was it? He is claiming that the streets of Kirkwall are not narrow?

I invite him to go outside.

[el_tybs]

Well he isn't my gentleman, but he did hear your broadcast off my crystal- [There's some muffled noises as the crystal is covered up for a moment.] And yes, he is arguing that they are not. He also says he 'invites you to go outside' for... 'words'.

I don't think he liked your joke.

I say it was rather... shitty. [Alright, he isn't fond of that one in particular either, but that doesn't mean he can't have fun with it.]

[limier]

An unfair contest. Our nation is full of jokes.

[degenere]

We are a very amusing people, it is true. And it is very unfair, how wonderfully marvelous we are across all boards.

I could nearly feel sorry for those not lucky enough to be born Orlesian. I comfort myself with my own blessing.

[limier]

And which nation is most dour? The Anderfels are a natural candidate — but as a scholar, perhaps you've some bolder perspective.

[doneisdone]

An Orlesian is stabbed in the throat.

[degenere]

And he lives! Praise Andraste. The country of Orlais is blessed indeed. Her people are the Maker's favored.

A happy story. But not a joke!

[doneisdone]

[GRR]

[limier]

Do yourself greater honour. I am certain your knifework no laughing matter.

[doneisdone]

Don't be ridiculous. The knife-wielder is also Orlesian.

[deserteur]

I have one.

[ Another Orlesian accent! But the country hick version of Orlesian. ]

A Sister in Orlais is collecting donations to repair the village Chantry. Nearly everyone gives something, except the Baron. She goes to him, and she says, “You have been blessed with such good fortune, perhaps you might return some of it to the Maker.”

The Baron says, “Blessed? You think so? Has anyone told you that my wife is ill and requires an expensive blend of herbs just to get out of bed?”

The Sister says, “I had heard she was feeling poorly,” but she’s cut off before she can offer any sympathy.

“What’s more, one of my daughters is engaged to a man who’s being held for ransom in the marshes. My cook died and left behind four bastard orphans too young to work. And five of my freeholders lost their crops to flood this season. If no one assists them they will surely starve.”

The Sister is embarrassed now, to be asking a man with so many hardships for help fixing windows. She says, “I am so sorry to have bothered you.”

And, “So should you be,” the Baron says. He says, “If I give nothing to any of them, why should I give something to you?”

[keenly]

[This sound could be reasonably called a cackle.]

[deserteur]

[ Damn the constraints of the medium, which prevent him from answering with a wink. ]

[degenere]

[Val laughs, loud and appreciative.]

Very good! Ah, you must write that down for me, please--but when you do, change the baron to a baroness. My mother is a baroness. It reminds me so of her, I must send it to her.