This is Warden Serra. As of this month, I will be stepping down from my position as project leader for the Rifts and the Veil. I remain a project member and will make myself available for questions or assistance, as need be. It's my hope that another will replace me soon and continue the work that needs to be done.

To that end...if you are the new bearer of an anchor, please take the survey available at the project's office on the six floor of the central tower, room B. The more information I can make available to the new project lead, the better. If you have updates to share, those would be also be welcome.

[ Rey doesn't like making announcements over the crystals, but she also doesn't know who to go to with this question. Had this happened to anyone else? She doesn't know.

When she speaks, there's a slight waiver to her voice, anyone who knows her well will know that she's really on the edge of panic, because each word is deliberate, quiet. ]

I'm curious. We have several rifters here, many who have been here longer than I have. Some that are no longer here. Has... does anyone know of a rifter falling asleep one night and waking up in the morning having had dreams so vivid that it was like they were memories, rather than a dream?

GUYS guys guys! And gals. People and persons of all ages, sizes, genders, and races. [That would be Church, with some noises in the background and his non-stop pacing feet, sounding excited and peppy, perhaps just slightly moreso than should be normal. Until you hear what he has to say.] It is my awesome pleasure to invite you--yes, YOU--down to the kitchen to be our lovely taste testers.

I DON'T KNOW IF, LIKE, DWARVES TASTE THINGS DIFFERENTLY; WE'RE GOING TO NEED A DIVERSE TASTER POOL! [The voice is yelled because it's from a distance, though no less excited. It's very much Cosima.] IT'S VERY IMPORTANT.

Yeah. Dwarves, too. And literally everyone, seriously, it's for science. Tasty, delicious science.

TELL THEM IT'S FOR SCIENCE--

I got it covered--

--IT'S VERY IMPORTANT!

I got it, Cos!

Ahem. Tasting what, you might ask? Ohhhhhoho, you are in for a treat, cuz, see, we've talked about it, and now it's happening, assholes! Fried food is coming to Thedas! We're frying up every damn thing. ONLY EDIBLE THINGS! Don't tell me what to do, we could fry up rocks, I might fry a chair, you don't know-- LIKE WE'RE NOT TRYING TO KILL PEOPLE HERE! Okay all right, no sense wasting oil I guess.

You guys. are gonna know. the awesome power. of french fries.

...Buuuut since we also don't have super amazing modern technological equipment to measure temperature and shit like that, it's also just going to have to be a try and see process. Hence taste testing. Pros: you get food. Cons: you don't get paid, but I refer to you back to the pros. We're literally doing science for free you're welcome.

Greetings, this is Inessa Serra of the Rifts and the Veil project. I'm here to ask for the assistance of any who bear anchors and would be agreeable to answering a (hopefully short) survey for our records. All information is confidential and will not be shared beyond approved Inquisition personnel. If this interests you, please stop by and pick up a form at my office or just outside it, on the sixth floor of the central tower. If you hear a mabari barking, you're headed in the right direction. I look forward to any replies and thank you for you time.

[Private to project members]

Consider this an impromptu crystal-meeting. I thought it might be more convenient for all involved.

I'm aware that many are hurting at this time. A valued member of the Inquisition has been lost to us, through her own anchor. If you were close to her, you have my condolences, and I understand if you must take time away to grieve. Siuona was the first to succumb to this fate; it's my hope that she will be the last, but for that to occur, our research must persist. To that end, I welcome a proactive approach. If there is an angle you think we ought to be pursuitng, mention it here and we can work on it together. Even if an idea is half-formed and you are wondering as to it's feasibility, don't be afraid to contribute. We will learn nothing by holding back.

[Having cleared the air on that, she sounds a little more energetic.] If you've looked through the survey, you will have seen mention of potential anchor-monitoring for those willing to volunteer their time. I am looking for volunteers on our end, as well. At the moment, the plan is simply to record any changes witnessed or told to us. If you're interested, I can note that as well. Otherwise, I open this meeting up to members at large.

I have a need of certain items as well as assistance with something...something you can speak to me privately about, I don't know how to stop everyone hearing things on this yet. I'm willing to trade services of my own or goods for these; I'm a talented smith of many years from hide and leather through any metals, glass, bone or tusk - the last two are best for bows, we're known for making the finest bows you'd ever have a hand on. I've hunted since childhood so if it's meat for your own larder or a pelt to do what you will with or whatever other parts, I can supply those.

The assistance would need to be somewhere not the city. Somewhere private. Quiet. There's no danger to you, I only wish to see how greatly arriving through a rift may have changed me. The second is where I might come by a still. [And there's a pause, verging on awkward. She knows.] For milk. And somewhere the still might be put to not offend or be disturbed.

[ without preamble, ]

So here’s what: You make up two choices. Maybe they’re both shit, or maybe they’re both alright, but you say them — then you gotta say which one you’d pick, if you had to.

And maybe why. And then everyone else’s gotta answer too. Like this, 

Would you rather not be able t'lie, or only be able to? 

— And no one gives a damn for who you’re fucking or who fucked you over, so don’t go dragging that mess in here or I’ll puke on your shoes.

Indulge me: The best advice you have received. Explain why, if you choose.

Hello, little rock.

You ask so many questions. All day, all night, and in all voices. What's worse than dying? Who are elves? How do you kiss one?

Listen to me: I can ask questions too. What are stars made of? Who put them there? Do you think they must have been very, very tall?

And — Who do you belong to?

[Beginning this message takes some doing. Sending crystals are unfamiliar--but after a moment, fumbling gives way to the ambient noise of a fairly crowded pub. Conversation, the clink of dishes and mugs. Laughter. Music, in the background.]

Right. So-- [At last he's got this messaging thing worked out now, all right; he's nothing if not adaptable--] I don't know how it's done here, all right, but I've got t' complain.

This bard won't shut up.

And d'you know the worst part? The worst part is, he's playin' Tom Jones. [The horror.] Tom Jones! Come all this way, and there's still some prick doing 'What's New Pussycat' in the corner of the pub in the middle of the afternoon. It's suffocating. And that's the only thing he's playing, by the way. You ask him anything else, no matter how nicely you ask--no, that's the only thing. Tom Jones. 'What's New'. Nothing else.

I mean, I'm going out of my mind here. Anyone know how t' get this to stop? Jesus--