Test Drive Meme!

[faderifting]

'Tis The Season...

...To Still Be In The Hinterlands

Maybe the Inquisition sent you, maybe you came seeking the Inquisition. Maybe you fell out of a rift into this world last week and are still just trying to find your feet. However it happened, early fall finds you in the Hinterlands. Tucked between Ferelden's massive Lake Calenhad and the icy Frostback Mountains, the Hinterlands are a hilly region covered in patchy forests and small farms trying to eke out a living between the boulders. Though somewhat remote, the area is rich with game and minerals and home to Redcliffe, a bustling town on a busy trade route.

Lately the Hinterlands have also been full of mages and templars and rifts, all threatening to turn once-peaceful countryside into a dangerous warzone. The Inquisition has set up several camps and sent personnel to try to restore order to the region, unwilling to let it slip into chaos. There's a lot to be done, some of it straightforward killing bad things, some of it weird and nebulous morale-building.

NOW WITH ADDED SNOW.

1. I CAN'T BEAR THE COLD

You have turned the wrong corner in the snow, forded the wrong stream in the snow, crested the wrong hill in the snow, entered the wrong cave in the snow. Maybe you are far from camp, in the snow. Maybe you are in camp, which is also snowy. Whatever has happened, wherever you are: you are being chased through the snow by bears. Did you throw a snowball at the bears? Are they huge and snow-dusted? Babies burrowing through the snow drifts and coming for your ankles? Fade-touched in addition to snow-touched? Controlled by cold mages who are hiding in the snow? Popping up out of the snow like a game of whack-a-mole? What are they chasing you away from in all of this snow? What are they chasing you into, other than more snow? What warm things do you plan to make out of their hide if you kill them in the snow? What do you think they'll craft out of your hide if they kill you in the snow? P.S. It's snowy.

2. GIVE ALL THE TOYS TO THE LITTLE RICH BOYS

Winter came. The villagers are freezing. Recruit Whittle totally saw this coming. Now he might have sent you haring (get it) across the countryside in search of supplies that apostates or bandits may have hidden in caves and crannies. He might have handed you some sticks and told you to build a fire. He might have eyed your nice coat with a contemptful gleam that suggested you'd better find some blankets if you didn't want to have your own clothing requisitioned. Nobody's freezing to death on his watch--except maybe you, if you're really bad at finding hidden caches. In the snow.

3. DON'T SHOOT ME SANTA

The sky is beginning to darken and white snow continues to fall, but you and the supply wagon you're protecting should make it to the little Hinterlands village before sunset. The wagon is laden with food, blankets, and other sundry supplies, and so it's important to stay sharp and alert as you make the trecherous journey. And for good reason: an arrow is fired from the tree line and topples an Inquisition soldier from his horse. Beset by bandits, will you manage to fight them back? Or do they overwhelm your troupe and you are forced to flee? Or, perhaps, you could attempt a negotiation, knowing they could be as hungry as the people you protect.

4. DOES THEDAS HAVE FIGGY PUDDING?

It is not only snowing, it's blizzarding, and the tavern in Redcliffe is the closest and warmest place to duck into to wait it out. Unfortunately, half of the Hinterlands had the same idea. The Gull & Lantern is so packed with thawing visitors that it's hard to walk from one side to the other, the owner has given up on telling these Fereldens they can't bring their dogs inside, and that lady in the corner is almost definitely someone you've tried to kill before, or vice versa. But there's a fire going, and the bartender seems to think that giving everyone half-price drinks might prevent a brawl instead of causing one, and there aren't any demons indoors, so it could be a lot worse.

5. WILDCARD

Hunt game in the snow, kill demons in the snow, dig under the snow for herbs, track bandits through the snow, deal with someone charging extortionist coat prices now that it's snowing, fall off a deceptively tall rock into the snow, get lost circling the same hill ten times trying to find a way up to the weird glowing skull on a stick you can see is up there in the snow, climb trees or abandoned towers covered in snow, rummage around in empty homes to get out of the snow, run from a dragon in the snow, cry over how cute that fennec fox you just shot in the snow was, set up camp and chat around the fire because it's snowy and cold, knock yourself out (figuratively, or even literally if that's more your speed)-- the Hinterlands are your Frostback Mountain oyster, topped with snow.

Comments

Asher Hardie | Native OC (mercenary)

[hlif]

i
[No folk of the Hinterlands, your eyes do not deceive you, there is indeed a man who looks half-Avvar launching himself at a bear. Unfortunately he has his shirt on because he’s not losing nipples to frostbite thanks but it’s only after he and the bear go hurtling into deep snow with plenty of growling from both of them but the bear sounds to be the more hurt out of them.]

Right then, time for you to bugger off back to wherever you’ve come from.

[Do you assist? Do you simply watch? Just stick around, it might get pretty damn impressive. Or pet that big old scarred mabari, good old Bronson’s a gentle soul deep down.]

iii
[The supply wagon is technically his own and it’s got a massive druffalo pulling it along as one burly man stands guard with his faithful mabari, two-handed axe in hand. The rest of his company have fanned out to find whoever is shooting at them but any assistance is appreciated. When he spots someone approaching, he whistles sharply and jerks his head.]

If you can fight lend us a hand, if not then get behind me and the lad and under the wagon for the moment.

v
[Are you hiring Asher for a job? Did he punch you that one time? Are you merc bros about to start yelling with excitement that unfortunately sounds like the prelude to a fight? Whatever the case, roll your own scenario.]

I

[gatheringstorm]

[Korrin doesn't assist, but only because she knows Asher and knows he a) can handle himself and b) enjoys this all too much. She'll jump in if bad luck dictates an intervention but otherwise will observe with amusement and settle by his mabari. She grins, rubbing the top of his head affectionately.]

Who's a good boy? You are, for putting up with that bear-man. Roll over and I'll give you some belly rubs as a reward.

[hlif]

Korrin! [Ducking under a swipe of the paw, Asher actually manages to throw up a hand to wave before he swings the flat of the axe blade right into the bear's face so it gets stunned before he roars, psyching himself up.] Thought you were in the Free Marches last I heard and don't go telling Bronson nonsense, he's a mabari, they're smart.

[Smarter than Asher, most likely.]

But I see how it is, indulge the dog enjoying his middle years, don't help your supposed frie-- Andraste's tits you'd think the bears would learn.

[The earth beneath man and bear almost seems to shake with the force of his swing, the blade slicing clean through the belly as the bear howls in agony before crashing down in a pained fury.]

[gatheringstorm]

He's smarter than you, that's for sure. Not that it takes much.

[What, it's true. And she just observes his display with a smirk.]

Don't tell me you actually need help with that one? You, who wrestled a bear shirtless? What is the world coming to?

[hlif]

Bloody hell, that's how you greet me after all this time? You're a hard woman Ataash.

[Bronson could at least look offended on his behalf but no, he's going to flop over to show off his belly just as Korrin suggested because he's a big dirty traitor. Asher will eat that bone by himself out of spite Bronson.]

No, I don't need you to hold my hand mother but the offer would be nice at least, where's the rest of your lot? [Time to go for the people's elbow in the bear's middle before the axe comes up a final time, across the throat and it's a shame he doesn't have the time to do anything much with it because winter is coming and all that.] Liadan's got an arrow with Kaariss' name on it still.

[gatheringstorm]

If you'd spotted me first, you'd have greeted me in some obnoxious way, and you know it.

[Aw, what a sweet boy. Korrin thoroughly rubs that belly because someone must and Asher's too busy throwing himself at a bear...again. She chuckles at that last part.]

Oh, I understand that sentiment. But they're near Gwaren at the moment, at least those that weren't working security at the Conclave.

[She's sure he's heard of that by now, even without having a stake in such events. The outcome was pretty damn obvious, thanks to the Breach.]

[hlif]

Well sorry if I'm an affectionate man, it's a flaw, I know that.

[Sighing, he wipes off the worst of the blood, swinging his ridiculous scalp braid over his shoulder and out of the way. One last shove to make sure the bear is gone as the ravens gather and he jogs across to Korrin and Bronson, ridiculous axe resting on one shoulder and dripping blood as he goes.]

Damn good to see you, we heard that shit went bloody south, never thought the same shit'd happen twice. [They all got out of Kirkwall at the right time back in the day.] C'mere, Bronson lad, c'mon, have some dignity. And you, bloody c'mere and all.

[Let's face it Korrin, he has hugged you when he's been much dirtier. And bloodier. Possibly greased up too. That was a night.]

You know Meli and Lia would've had us up there too if they thought I could behave around Chantry folk for more than five minutes. [Then his voice drops the way it only would around someone he actually gives a rat's arse about.] How many made it out? Of the ones on the Conclave job.

[gatheringstorm]

[Ribbing aside, she flashes a grin, glad to actually see him again despite her previous words. She does come over for a hug, not shy or worried about grime or blood.]

See, this is what I mean. Your affection could leave even me with bruises, if you're not careful.

[He's the warrior, not her, and despite the slight size difference, he's the stronger of the two. Better watch it, Asher, she likes her ribs intact. But her grin fades and she shakes her head.]

None. The only person to emerge from that alive was the Herald. I was lucky enough to be around here at the time, nowhere close to that mess.

[hlif]

[At least he’s not shy about bathing regularly, unlike some mercenaries and the Avvar in general who always have a rather pungent aroma about them.]

You know some people like a few bruises. I do myself. [Asher generally looks like he’s been mauled by a wild animal and half the time those are just the village boys and girls he tumbles.]

Shit, I’m sorry, I know how close you lot were. [Maybe that’s just how he sees it but Vashoth and Tal-Vashoth crews have always seemed tighter to him than most.] It’s never easy to lose someone like that, s’always a bad bit of business. You know I don’t have your weird poison drink stuff but we’ve picked up some good ale from home, we’ll pour one out for them once the rest of my lot catch up. You headed Gwaren way then? Meeting up with them?

[gatheringstorm]

[Bathing is always favored, whatever Asher looks like. He's obnoxious enough (usually in a good way, but still) without adding an aroma.]

Yeah, well, I'm a mage not a reaver or whatnot. Just keep that in mind.

[She nods, accepting his condolences especially with the offer of decent drink in their memory. They would appreciate that, and her smile says as much. But she shakes her head.]

I'd love that, but no, I'm not going to Gwaren. If anything, I'm going back to Skyhold for my next assignment. The rest of the Valo-Kas trust me to call on them if they're needed, but I want to be here personally to see this through. Those we lost deserve no less.

[hlif]

Would I be some sort of sacred figure, being a reaver? Your people are big on dragons, I could practically be called the blood of the dragon [Asher hath lost his chill, he know not where] so would I be the one in charge of the fighting then?

[Please let him have his fantasy of that life okay.

Holding a laugh, he offers a smile as Bronson finally gets up to lean against Asher's legs, trusting that he won't fall over thanks to the sudden weight pressed against his knees.]

We're, uh, we're headed that way. Figured we'd do some fighting, get paid, win some glory and plan for the future - won't be young forever, will I? [Won't even be alive for much longer is often a threat too, one that he laughs at the way he laughs at everything but there we are.] You can show us the way, we've got a whole wagon of supplies from the parents, don't know how one wagon will help that's like a drop of piss in the sea but you try arguing with my mother when she's armed with a ladle, you know she's got Avvar blood when she smacks you.

[gatheringstorm]

Sure, Asher, lead all the battles you want against dragons. I'll buy the maraas-lok for the victory party. You can't be proper leader without drowning yourself in it afterward.

[Partly humoring him, but having Asher alongside her against a dragon is a tempting image. Korrin knows better than to face such creatures head-on without the proper numbers, but with? Damn right, she'd be there.

Upon hearing his plans, she nods in firm approval.]

Hey, we lost almost everything when Haven was destroyed and our list of allies still isn't very long. Every bit helps, more than you know. Your mother's aid is welcome, though I hope for her and our sake that she isn't related to anyone in the mire. The Avvar there weren't exactly glad to see us.

[hlif]

Fucking glorious.

[He was in Kirkwall, he heard all about Tamassrans but he's always been smart enough never not to joke about that sort of thing in front of Korrin when he's not sure on what her parents ever did before they left the Qun. Because if someone made such claims of his mother, he'd need to kill them after he stopped laughing and a) he likes living and b) him and Korrin up against one another would be messy and terrible.]

Let me guess, the Chantry suddenly can't find charity for folk but they still wear their embroidered gowns and drink good wine on feast days. [He can vouch for the wine, he's intercepted some bound for a Chantry or two before.] Don't say that, she'll know and next time I go home to see my nephews and nieces she'll give me a smug smile and smack me round the back of the head. Funny how I got turfed out for violence but she can lay hands on me all she likes when I'm a man grown. [Also never point that out to a mother, then the dad weighs in and well, Stafford Hardie is the sort of person Asher has the sense not to cross now he's grown up a bit.] Avvar aren't happy to see anyone, not unless you do a lot of shouting and chest pounding, it's like us mercenaries, most of it's talk and even when it gets bloody it's for the sake of your reputation and what's yours. Which is again why we're headed up there.

[Nasir might already have made it if he's not complaining about the cold though he did agree to meet them so they could travel up together meaning that he'll have had two trips to lodge a full list of complaints Asher will have to listen to as he tries to get a druffalo to behave.]

[gatheringstorm]

Hey, I won't complain. Though between us, the Chargers and some other folk I know, it's going to be pretty damn noisy and full of that chest-pounding and showing off.

There are a few good exceptions to the clergy and they've stayed with us, but the rest think us heretics. Nevermind that their own Divine authorized this before she died, but they can't let any actual facts get in the way, you know. People won't forget that inaction and the Chantry will be the weaker for it, but it's hard to be sympathetic when they've brought it upon themselves.

[She shrugs dismissively, still considering herself vaguely Andrastian, but her views on the Maker and Andraste, and then the Chantry itself are very different things.]

I've been to Avvar holds in the past, actually. Not recently, but I remember some being far more hospitable than what we just found in the mire. I think they were partly glad to see people they didn't have to crane their necks to look at, an issue I know all too well. If we get the chance, and meet another group willing to worth with us, I bet you'll fit right in. Maybe Bronson can be their hold-beast, eh, boy?

[Who's a good mabari?]

[hlif]

And? Everywhere needs some chest-pounding otherwise a tavern might as well be full of corpses.

Of course they think you’re heretics, it’s the Chantry, if you’re not licking their arse then you’re going against them. They’re useless unless they’re prancing around Orlais holding hands with the Empress or walking around asking for tithes only they conveniently don’t look down to see who they’re stepping over. Andraste would be ashamed of the lot of them, she should take up that sword of hers and give it a few good swings.

[Asher is more Avvar, much to his mother’s disgust, not that he really does much beyond ask for strength but he likes that sort of belief, things he can see and smell and touch, things that are actually useful to his life and not a song droning on forever and forever. ]

You’re hardly likely to be mistaken for a lowlander and they’ll even trade with Orlesians, depending on how it goes and what you’ve got, it’d be nice to go off on what mother thinks is a jaunt only to scandalise her. It makes her act like an Avvar and she hates it. [Leaning down, he carefully takes Bronson by the face which means he gets his face licked in return, such is the price of being worthy.] Reckon he’d make a pretty majestic hold-beast.

[gatheringstorm]

Damn right, he would.

[Korrin grins, always encouraging Bronson.] Maybe I'll have to drag you along with me whenever I get assigned to a hold for whatever reason. Though if you beat me to it, you'd better do the same. There's nothing like their climbing contests or battle arena. Not quite the same as the Grand Tourney, but I like it, it's more raw and gets the blood pumping. And hey, scandalizing relatives is as good a reason as any to join in, I've heard.

[Not like she would know personally, since her parents never stopped her from doing anything.]

[hlif]

I know you've got some inches and horns on me but I doubt you could drag me anywhere unless you froze me solid and tied me to a bronto. [And don't do that or he will come down on you like Korth.] Some of my favourite scars have come from the arena but I'd need to brush up on the climbing, it's been too long since I was anywhere I could do that, all those jobs in the Free Marches, then we went up to Nevarra and Nevarra's just plain weird, pretty sure half the people there are shagging the corpses or thinking about how much they want to.

[He shudders, actually shudders and shakes his head.]

Grand Tourney, it's all a fix, half the time the jousting is just two men galloping angrily at one another and passing, is that the true passion of the Marches?

[gatheringstorm]

It seems to be, since during that season it's all I ever hear about. You'd think nothing else happens. Hell, even one of Ferelden's arls is there constantly or so I've heard. But I haven't been in a while, not consistently since the war started.

[The Mage-Templar War, not the Breach and what came after. She may not have been directly involved but that doesn't mean it didn't affect her at all.]

And hey, Nevarrans aren't that bad. Not that I care about the Necromancy part either, but one of my best friends from forever ago is a Nevarran Grey Warden. I'll have to warn her about you and your mouth back in Skyhold. [Korrin may not be known for her tact, but Asher is even worse at times.] And go ahead and tell Seeker Cassandra all about her people, but only if you alert me so I can get a good view.

1.

[resought]

[It's the roaring of the bear that attracts her. Evie's used to running in the opposite direction from trouble, slinking into the shadows, but on this occassion she came for the yelling, stuck around for the show.

Hell if this wasn't something Jacob would try to do. Unlike her dearest brother, however, this man seemed to be perfectly in control.

Evie looks from the strangest bout she has ever witnessed to the mabari, and back again.]

I would say your master could use a hand, but he seems to be just fine without it.

[hlif]

[Can a man not make a spectacle of himself wrestling bears? What's stranger - a tear in the sky or man and beast locked in combat? At least he still has his shirt on.

The hound wags his stump of a tale, his one good eye on her as he barks, ready for the petting he hopes is about to commence.]

I'm having- [the words are muffled, accompanied by an explosion of snow] a wonderful time! [For a big man he manages to get himself back on his feet, weapon in hand right in time for the bear to rear up and come crashing down, roaring.] Keep Bronson company, he's fought enough bears in his time, a lad his age gets to spectate.

[Right as Asher bellows himself and swings his great-axe down to cut deep into the shoulder of the bear.]

[resought]

[The world is strange enough without someone wrestling a bear, but if she had to pick a preference, it would be the man and the bear. Perhaps it would tell its bear friends of such an ordeal and there would be less bears to go around.

Evie laughs. A wonderful time, yes, nothing to worry about. She bends slightly to scratch Bronson behind the ears, because what kind of Ferelden would she be to resist the lure of a mabari waiting for pets? She keeps half an eye on the brawl though and - ow, that one looked like it hurt. The bear, obviously.]

If you do find yourself wanting a break, I'm right here. [And, to Bronson:] I'm correct in assuming this is a regular occurrence?

[hlif]

[Nah, bears have to hide their shame and they just come back hungrier to prove themselves. Why else would the Boneflayers all possess slankets made of the finest bear pelts to be found in Thedas?]

If you heard a story about a man ripping his shirt off and walking out to wrestle a bear? That was me. It was a crazy night. [Crazy nights tend to follow when several various bands of mercenaries all manage to meet in one place in the middle of nowhere with the coin to keep the drink flowing. Asher emerged victorious and plenty of people seem to know him from that alone.

The bear manages to get a good swipe in, claws raking across his armour and ripping some of the mail and he grunts, backing up enough to give him the room to charge again.

And Bronson? Well he's seen this plenty because he barks, wagging his stumpy tail so hard his whole body wiggles, jumping slightly. Yes, his master is a giant idiot with a death wish.]

You fancy joining in, welcome any time, more than enough bear for the two of us!

[resought]

I'm sure it's an inspiration to people everywhere. [Those words might have been a mockery five minutes ago but right now she fully believes it and it sounds closer to her being impressed.] Unfortunately, no. I know if my brother had heard it he would have gone out to try it - thank Andraste that he hasn't.

[Call it Seeker training and then running from one city to another and nobles caring about their petty problems and lives and not the people below them. Sometimes you found one who did, but they were unlikely to share bear stories.]

I'm afraid I'm not a direct combat sort. [Evie shrugs in lament, smiling earnestly. She wouldn't last two minutes against a bear before she'd have to take to a tree. It's actually a little bit of a shame.

She continues scratching Bronson's ears, but pensively. Is she actually considering assaulting a bear because a man invited her to and who knows why he started fighting a bear and she doubts it was entirely in self-defense? Yes, yes she is.] But I think it's right flank has seen better days, if that's something you want to take advantage of?

[hlif]

Your brother sounds like a good man? What's his name? And yours? [Despite most evidence to the contrary, he does have some manners that he remembers usually about fifteen minutes late but better late than never and strangers are more deserving of them than a lot of folk who simply feel entitled to them.]

Really? Fereldan lass [Fereldan sounding, that can mean a lot now since the Blight drove so many of them from their homes, the desperate and needy he met years later in Kirkwall] like you and you don't want to--

[Punch a bear in the face apparently because fuck you bear, he's having a conversation wait your turn he will get back to you eventually.]

Name the nearest tavern and I'll buy you a drink. [Combat rolls with a great-axe never work well - because he tried, it was bad, there was so much screaming and his second punched him harder than a small elf lady should be able to punch someone with as thick a skull as him - but he charges the bear so it'll charge right back, moving just fast enough to circle around. Definitely a bear that's had a rough time of it, maybe hunters, maybe other bears but the leg is weaker and when he swings, the roar isn't just as deep. There's a high whine that makes Bronson howl, perhaps remembering such wounds himself.]

[resought]

Evie Frye, Ser. It is my pleasure. [Genuinely.] And my brother is Jacob. I would not say that to him, though, it would go straight to his head. [Not that Jacob isn't a good man. He is. But he would serve to think before doing every now and then and actually seeing the bigger picture and what lay ahead rather than what was happening right now.]

Redcliffe would do. [She calls down pleasantly.] Seemed rather full the last time I passed. [Which is a sign of good things. Perhaps she can even talk her way into the best seat in the house again, but those are later thoughts; now, she concentrates on the fight and her assessment of the bear's condition which holds true. She actually has her canesword raised now, on the off-chance the bear becomes more aggressive. Just because she can't fight for an extended period of time doesn't mean she can't hit it in the face and give it something to think about should Asher need it.]