allthisshitisweird | Test Drive Meme!

New Year...

...Same Old 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, the first days of the new year find 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.

STILL WITH ADDED SNOW.

1. SHOULD OLD ACQUAINTANCE BE FORGOT

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 still snowy.

2. WE TWO HAVE RUN ABOUT THE SLOPES

Farmers have been forced to abandon their homes after a series of vicious attacks by wolves. Packs of them are roaming the foothills and stalking paddocks and even roads seemingly without the usual wariness of humans. Inquisition agents and local volunteers guard travelers through the affected region, hunt the wolves through snowy woods, and track them back to their cavernous lair in the edge of a canyon. Only eliminating the demons that lurk there will free the wolves from their influence and allow the area to return to normal.

3. AND PICKED THE DAISIES FINE

Winter snows freeze and bury the ground, but the need for healing herbs is as great as ever. Stockpiles are thin after the chaos of the last year, and Corporal Vale is desperate enough to send people out to search caves and hollows and cliffsides and beneath overhangs for any plants still clinging to life. The weather is brutal, the search tedious, the footing often treacherous, but that last patch of Crystal Grace could be a key find. Getting it requires clambering up a slippery hillside and stretching up to a ledge and hoping whatever creature lives in that foxhole beside the plant isn't at home, but it's worth it, right?

4. WE TWO HAVE PADDLED IN THE STREAM

With many roads through the hills and ravines blocked by deep snow, some crazy, desperate few have begun traveling by river. The ice is thick and jagged along the shores but in the center the water rushes, just deep enough for a shallow draft boat lightly laden. Supplies are carried down from the passes toward Redcliffe this way, a white-knuckle process that you, for some reason, have become involved in. Maybe you were hired to help fend off the bandits that haunt the calm shallows and try to demand tolls for passage, maybe you're paying your way downstream by helping port both boat and cargo around the steep falls, the mist so thick and cold it coats whatever it touches in a thin sheen of ice. Maybe riding a glorified canoe through rocky rapids and narrow gorges just sounded like a good time. Don't rock the boat!

5. WE'LL TAKE A CUP OF KINDNESS YET

It is still snowing, and the tavern in Redcliffe is still the closest and warmest place to duck into to wait it out, and not only is it packed to the gills but it seems that the First Day celebrations have continued within long past the dawn of the second day. 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 Fereldans they can't bring their dogs inside, every few minutes the group in the corner breaks into a traditional First Day song that will be stuck in your head for weeks, 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.

6. 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.

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1.

Bears and snow. Neither of that was a problem, per say - snow didn't bother the golem other than blocking their sight a little when they tried to move along the path without getting completely lost, and bears... bears were squishy. Less squishy than the fleshy creatures they usually surrounded themselves with, but still went down fairly easy when you crushed their heads.

Shale was just done dealing with one of the bears after it was done breaking teeth on their stone body when they noticed a movement in the distance. It better not be another suicidal bear...

Wildcard

Birds. Dead birds. Who squished all the birds?

Korrin just stares around in disbelief, because...that's a lot of dead birds. Dead squished birds. The Vashoth mage isn't any stranger to seeing animals meet a violent end, though usually it's bears or wolves driven mad by the Breach, not...this.

"Andraste's tits...."

"Why are you fleshy creatures so obsessed with the lumps of your gods? It's just more flesh. Little pieces, easily crushed." A rough voice says as Shale wanders into view from the nearby foliage, covered in feathers and bird blood.

Don't ask. The evil pests looked at them funny, okay?

Wiping some off their carved arms and polishing a piece of green crystal embedded there, Shale then eyes Korrin again. "Does it swear by other non-holy people's disgusting genitals as well?"

Well, that's...different. Korrin's seen golems before, but not up close and not without a control rod. Despite being a little unnerved, thanks to the feathers and blood, her lips twitch at that last part. "Sometimes, but Chantry folk really hate it when I speak about Andraste's, so there's more appeal in that."

Yeah, it's immature. So sue her. "So you're responsible for the avian massacre, huh? What did they ever do to you?"

There's a very long-suffering grunt from Shale at that question. "They are awful, evil creatures that need to be destroyed. Every single little feathery fiend!"

The golem steps on one of the feathery bodies, rubbing it into the dirt with their foot like they were putting out embers. "They were waiting for me."

"Waiting? ...oh. They thought you were a statue, didn't they. Ew."

Okay, that earns the golem some sympathy. Who'd want that fate? She's still not thrilled about the mess, but at least it's understandable.

"You haven't been here long, have you? I never heard any rumors about golems in the area before, and the tavern passes on just about everything."

It isn't too often they earn sympathy from people, but Shale tries to ignore the fact that it's surprisingly pleasing that someone actually understood their hatred.

"No. It has not heard of me, because I did not want to be heard." They mutter, looking at Korrin suspiciously. "Is it going to use it's magic on me?"

"Uh, no. I love myself too much to take on a golem for no reason. As long as you're not going to squash me like those birds, I'm fine with reserving my magic for the rift demons and bears that are fucking everywhere."

If the latter sound more irritating than the demons, well, it's because they are. At least she expects the demons to be a hassle, but the bears are still at it no matter how many she kills.

Not a suicidal bear, no, but an elf. A painted elf that flitted from tree to tree, peering into the distance to check the status of the bears in the wood. He had become sidetracked by a rather peculiar path in the snow and to come upon it's source- well.

Golems were not something one saw often on the surface. He had not seen one in roughly a decade.

The fact that there was no master with it's control rod wandering about anywhere around narrowed the possible list of 'many' to 'singular' in short order. "...Shale?"

The golem turns their head at the familiar voice, and then stares up at the elf in the tree with the least impressed expression a golem can muster. Which, incidentally, is very little.

"Does the painted elf think he is a squirrel, now?" Shale replies, and they might be... slightly glad to see him again. Maybe.

"No, but I do think myself lucky!" He crackles a laugh, swinging down to land at their level. It has been years since they've last shared company but hearing those three words still warms him. "What brings you this far south, my fine, stony friend?"

Keeping their eyes on Zevran, Shale has to stop themselves from rolling their eyes at the elf's words. Still, it's decent memories to look upon. Better than thirty years of staring at a ridiculous village.

"I have come to crush the head of the thing that made the hole in the sky. I wish to snap each bone in its body." Someone isn't pleased, it seems.

"Did it shit on you when we weren't looking?" That was the usual way to earn Shale's impressive ire. Well. That and be a bird. So many squashed birds.

All those birds.

Sam kneels on the ground, shoulders slumped as he bows his head over the tiny, broken body before him. He pokes at it, gently, but the feathers are bent and crushed, the fragile bones twisted at terrible angles, and the bird is still. A fat tear rolls down his cheek and splashes onto the ground, and Sam sniffles loudly before taking out his sword and starting to dig clumsily in the dirt. He doesn't know what had happened, but at least he can try and give proper burials to as many of the poor creatures as he can.

Well. That was... strange. The golem wanders out of the nearby foliage, heavy steps making the ground shake a little. Peering down at the crying, small creature, they're not sure what to make of the situation.

Was he crying over birds?

"It is shedding tears over evil fiends. Why is it not eating them instead?" That's usually what animals did. And hungry people that didn't mind snacking on bird pancake. (Horrible, disgusting people, eating something as foul as those monsters.)

Sam looks up, and while normally the sight of a glowing, talking, walking statue would be enough to frighten him into running away, he's so offended at the golem's words that all he can do is glare.

"Evil!" he cries, and looks back with bewilderment and pity at the bird. "These innocent animals? They haven't done a thing. The poor creatures. I wonder what happened to them all?" He sniffles again, nudging sadly at a broken wing.

"They defecate and make horrible shrill noises, making everything disgusting. They're horrible villains and need to be destroyed!" They growl, glaring down at the very tiny man. Most people are very tiny to Shale, though, so they're not too confused.

Sam's mourning is, though.

Sam slowly looks up, his eyes widening in sudden realization.

"You!" he says, and gets to his feet, his face darkening with anger. He steps forward, hands balled into fists at his side. The fact that the golem is easily three times his height and he has to crane his neck just to look it in the eye doesn't slow him down at all. "It was you, wasn't it? You killed all those birds. You crushed them and murdered them, and - and you don't even care! How could anyone do such a thing?" Fresh tears spring to his eyes, and he blinks them away.

Test Drive Meme!

Shale | DA: Origins

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1

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bleh I need to remember the 'it'

it's a tricky form of address, yeah

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awww sam

shale is awful and it's great

XD

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