Test Drive Meme!

[faderifting]

No, Seriously, You're Never Getting Out Of Here

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.

NOTE: We will not have an App Help/Enable Me meme this month, but anyone who has questions about OC concepts or AU adaptations is welcome to ask for assistance on the Mod Contact page.

1. WHERE THE SUN COMES UP ABOUT TEN IN THE MORNING

QUESTS COME AND GO BUT BEARS ARE ETERNAL: You have turned the wrong corner, forded the wrong stream, crested the wrong hill, entered the wrong cave. Maybe you are far from camp. Maybe you are in camp. Whatever has happened, wherever you are: you are being chased by bears. Did you provoke the bears? Are they huge? Babies? Fade-touched? Mage-controlled? What are they chasing you away from? What are they chasing you into? What do you plan to make out of their hide if you kill them? What do you think they'll craft out of your hide if they kill you?

2. THEY MOVED DOWN SOUTH OF REDCLIFFE

NICE PLACE FOR A SPOT OF CAMPING: If there were an inn, which there's not, there wouldn't be room for you in it. Traveling with the Inquisition means carrying your own bedrolls, putting up your own tents, and sleeping alongside whoever you've been told to share with--no matter how much you hate them or how loud they snore. If you really can't stand it, the alternative is sleeping outside. On the ground. With the bears.

3. AND THEY LAUGHED AND SANG A NEW SONG

Hey, there's a big, crazy light in the sky that craps out demons! Let's worship it!: Not everyone thinks the Breach was a bad thing. In the southeastern mountains, a burgeoning cult has taken up residence in Winterwatch Tower to wait patiently for the Maker to reach through the tears in the veil and gather the faithful to his bosom. They're a little kooky, maybe, but harmless, and they're happy enough to share their wine and lager with travelers in the area. The demon-spewing rift behind the Tower, on the other hand... Too bad the Herald didn't close that thing before she bit it. Watch your step.

4. NO ONE EVER KNEW THERE WAS LYRIUM IN THEM MOUNTAINS

TROUBLE IN THE DEEP: The Carta is everywhere, but it's here in force, occupying dwarven ruins in a chasm behind a waterfall. Inquisition forces have already cleared most of the smugglers out of the hold, but there's still a vault to break into, bodies to loot, and old texts to search through for anything worth adding to the Inquisition's growing archives. Also: darkspawn. Sorry.

5. AND THE SUN GOES DOWN ABOUT THREE IN THE DAY

CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE: hunt game, kill demons, gather herbs, track bandits, haggle over the price of armor, fall off a deceptively tall rock, 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, climb trees or abandoned towers, rummage around in empty homes, run from a dragon, cry over how cute that fennec fox you just shot was, set up camp and chat around the fire, knock yourself out (figuratively, or even literally if that's more your speed)-- the Hinterlands are your Frostback Mountain oyster.

Comments

'Karl' (Anders) | DA | 2

[warcatalyst]

[The camping place was perfect. Dry, high ground, good view all around it to avoid ambushes. Too bad it was already occupied by someone.

A very shaggy, bearded and long-haired man sat near a small fire he had built, a simple bedroll nearby. Tattered black robes with feathered shoulders and a staff next to him was a telltale sign that it was yet another apostate.

He doesn't seem willing to fight or cause trouble, however, looking so weary and tired that it was a miracle he was even sitting up straight. Dark circles were almost like bruising under his sunken-in and very vibrantly blue eyes with vague specks of honey.

In his lap was a very pregnant brown tabby cat, purring loudly under his gentle touch.

Things had not exactly been easy after Anders was chased away from the rebel mages, disappearing into obscurity. AKA the Hinterlands.]

[cruentatafoedus]

[Dry and high ground is important, particularly since due to the recent rains, the land has become alive, the water rising and mud in abundance (a brilliant shade of brown).]

[When Vayne finds the space occupied, he gives pause, his lead up to this patch of sanctuary not what you would call quiet unless you were feeling generous, and due to the acts of most in this area, for Faram's sake, he's silent in his pleasure at not being attacked in his ascent to the crest. One leg is slicked with mud, the other half its brother's state.]

[He speaks after that second's worth of reorientation, voice clear, eyes giving the pile of rags that seems to lay claim to Hume, er, manhood with a cat a single look-over, his head dipping in a bow. It's easy to smile.]

My apologies to you and yours, had I thus known of the important mission within your capable grasp, aught would've been deemed better.

[warcatalyst]

[Anders stops petting the cat, much to the tabby's displeasure. It wasn't unusual to run into other people out here, no matter how far into the forests he went, so someone coming to his little fire was not too much of a surprise.

The man was, however, and the mess of a mage looks up at him with dull look of a man that hadn't slept in days.]

We don't want any trouble.

[We, as in him in the cat. Or a neutral we. Or we, as in the mage and the creature in his head. Who knows.]

[cruentatafoedus]

[Vayne nods again, and gestures about, keeping the smile on his face. He's no quarrel in this place, though with the place is an entire other story.]

[The idea that Anders could be talking about a voice in his head would never cross the Solidor's mind - he has dealt with beings no one else can see, has spoken to them, and yet at the same time referring to the cat, or using a royal we would not unfamiliar to him as well.]

I pray for you that naught shall trouble, though I do fear these lands mark many despite wrenched prayers.

[He nods at the creature in Anders' lap, smiling a little more. It's good to see such creatures around, it reminds him of home when all else is...so different.]

Has she a name?

[warcatalyst]

[He tries to place the accent, but it's impossible. Whoever this man was, his origins were unknown to Anders, and it made things a little more odd. So was the man's words, though none of them were threats or ill-willed.

That's all he needs right now.

He's too tired for anything else.]

Her name is Hawke.

[The blonde says softly, running his fingers along her fur as the cat closes her eyes.]

[savethecat]

[Gorse knows better than to get too far from the rest of the scouts, what with his fighting ability only rivaling that of a blueberry scone and all, but there didn't seem to be any hostile people in the area and he'd yet to come across an animal he couldn't calm. He's not looking to camp, just looking to find a good view of the rest of the valley, whistling that upbeat tune the bard kept playing last time he was in Herald's Rest.

He's already to apologize profusely when he finds he's encroached on another person's space but the tabby catches his eye and the big 'qunari' lets out a soft little 'oh!']

Oh gosh, what's her name?

[warcatalyst]

[Okay, so random people wanting a bit of his fire was not a new thing. A qunari was definitely a new thing, and Anders isn't sure he actually has the energy to fight right now.

The hulking brute of a man didn't seem armed, however... which was at least a little bit calming. No signs of masks or stitches or whatever other horrors the Qun used to suppress their mages, either.

It was an injustice. Oppression spanned all cultures, but he really didn't want to have this conversation right now.

You must speak to me again one day, Anders. Not now, though.

Not when he wasn't attacked by qunari, but gently asked about his cat instead. Cats was a safer topic for a tired man.]

...her name is Hawke.

[savethecat]

[Gorse smiles in the sort of friendly way that is not exactly common for qunari, kneeling down nearby in an effort to make himself slightly less large and physically intimidating. He knows the effect his appearance has on people, but was relieved that this mage didn't go for the staff to start on the attack.]

Well she is beautiful, would it be alright if I petted her?

[warcatalyst]

You don't see many qunari appreciating cats.

[Which was sad, to be honest.]

You'll have to take that up with her, though. She's a bit moody.

[Bright and smart like her namesake. Also very lazy, barely acknowledging Gorse at all in a typical cat manner.]

[mythalenaste]

[A small elf approaches this fire, a blanket draped over one arm and a disc of fresh, warm bread in the other. The bread was made in a round camping-oven, and it was several people who agreed to pass it up in favor of giving it to a clearly starving man.]

Aneth ara, [Pel greets him, keeping some distance.] May I approach?

[warcatalyst]

[He looks up slowly, weariness in every line on his unkempt face as he regards the elf. Another mage. Dalish.

Anders remembers Merrill, and something hurts inside him. Something old.

Maybe it was just hunger. It had been days since he ate, and he tended to forget to do so even when he had food.]

Of course. It's cold out here.

[mythalenaste]

[She approaches and hands out the blanket first, waiting for him to wrap it around before she offers the bread. She squats in front of him then.]

Do you need help?

yaaaas Anders 8D

[amygdalae]

[It was by complete coincidence that Bruce came around this area. He had been trying to get more supplies to bring back to Skyhold if possible, and had gotten a bit more engrossed than he would fully admit. It's not everyday that he can come all the way here, after all, so he had to make the most out of this opportunity.

Unfortunately, with how (not-)engrossed he had been, Bruce found himself a tad lost. So he started to retrace his steps to get back to the camp when he noticed the lone man by himself. Even from a good distance he could see that the man wasn't in the best of health, and, well. Bruce couldn't just walk past that.]

--hello. [He starts, cautious as he approaches, taking it slow in case he startles the man or something.]

eyyy

[warcatalyst]

[Anders doesn't remember when he was in good health, to be honest. Even back in Kirkwall he worked himself to the bone. These days it was even tougher. He couldn't settle anywhere, risking to be recognized - always walking, helping where he could and then disappearing again.

Like a ghost.

Bruce doesn't startle him too much, because he did have a good view over the general area from his position. The man looked a bit lost and confused, and even a self-inflicted hermit could lend a fire to the needy.]

Hello.

let us bond over our shared status as abominations

[amygdalae]

[Well, at least he hadn't scared the man. Bruce wouldn't want that to happen, considering what most scared and confused people tended to do in these times. Not that he could blame them, of course.

He walks all the way over to the other, blinking at him and at the cat on his lap once he was close enough to notice it too.]

Is the cat yours?

[theonly]

Do you intend to die out here, because you are making a compelling case for it.

[ He cannot remain in Skyhold when there are things to be done. There is still strife within the Hinterlands and he has finished with chasing more renegades and the like back to whatever hole they continue to crawl out of. This is how he finds the sad excuse of a man sitting over a small fire.

Stannis sheathes his sword, and brushes the grime off the front of his armor. It names him as a Knight-Commander, but he does little else. ] Come morning, you will come to Skyhold. We're already taking every refugee this side of Thedas, so what is one more?

[warcatalyst]

[He doesn't know if he intends to die out here, to be honest. He's just... wandering around like a lost soul.

Sometimes he runs into rogue templars. Sometimes they die very quickly for being rogue templars.

Justice roars inside him. Easy to anger, easy to rise and fight. Templar, he warns, and Anders knows. He reaches for his staff, but stops as the man sheathes his sword.

Justice isn't pleased.

Anders is too tired.]

I heard the templars joined the Inquisition. I didn't realize that still meant you are out hunting mages.

[theonly]

I'm out hunting renegades -- and that includes Templars. I will not have them wear our sigil and kill the innocent.

[ His eyes dart toward the staff than the man.

There is a tired sigh that comes out of him. ]

I take it that you're not with the rebel mages. I say that as those lot travel in packs and look less like a rat rolled into a robe. [ He opens his arms to make a gesture to the empty space surrounding them. ] I have no intention of staying up all night expecting an attack. Do you feel the same, mage? [ A beat. ] Skyhold has your people for what little it is worth to you.

/loud screeching noises

[blightedson]

[He knew that people would fuss at him going on on his own, but being tended to every moment can be tiring. That's why he's by himself in the Hinterlands when he comes across the sight of a man and a cat.

His own appearance is well tended, though he's thin and sickly, his own robes are cared for and Tevinter in fashion. He probably seems like a giant target to some, but he's managed well enough on his own.

He is feeling pretty exhausted now though.]

Oh... Hello. Mind if I sit?

[warcatalyst]

[This was probably the strangest visitor to his fire other than the qunari, and Anders looks quite surprised. A little apprehensive, too. It's been more Tevinter around than it should, and he could imagine Fenris' glare right now.

...and then he grows concerned. The man didn't look good, and that came from the starved, dirty and bone-weary mage himself.]

Please.

[blightedson]

[Felix gives him a soft smile and settles with a respectful distance between them.]

Thank you.

[He tilted his head a bit to look at the cat.]

Looks like you've company already, and soon to be more by the looks of her.

[thedevilson]

You look like shit. [Dante was so wonderful with the greetings as he approached the shaggy, bearded man, clearly not a man who was cautious when approaching strangers. Apparently he'd been deemed fit to be let loose into the wild again, not that he was looking for anyone's permission in particular, but for the time being he was relying on the inquisition and the information that came with it in order to get to where he wanted to be.

Instead of having Dante restlessly fuck about Skyhold making his own brand of mischief they had him kicking about out here, but that's because he thought that's what this man looked like, probably glad to be rid of him momentarily. He didn't have much on him either, the clothing on his back, camping equipment, food, water...and he insisted on the booze. It was really shitty, but he was developing a taste, or lack thereof, for the stuff.

He didn't wait or need an invitation as he approached, giving the cat a greeting scratch before taking a seat opposite of Anders around the fire]

Now what's a nice mage like you doing in a shithole like this? [See how he was adapting modern pickup lines, , Dante had to pat himself on the back, but really it was kind of suspicious and that's what drew him in the first place. Lone mage, pregnant cat...the cat on her own had to be a burden.]

[warcatalyst]

[This was... a really weird guy. Who just saunters up to someone like that and starts hitting on people? He could be a crazy rebel mage, after all. (Which was pretty much true.) This man didn't seem the slightest bit concerned.

Something was definitely off. Maybe not just that behavior.

It's rather amusing how both the mage and the cat are giving Dante a wide-eyed look.

...then Anders finally finds his tongue.]

Ah, yes. I would say I fit quite well in this shithole if I look like shit, hm?

[deflocked]

[Ah. An apostate.

He frowns disapprovingly (despite his own current status as the same) and would just leave him. Unfortunately his mabari has other ideas. He trots over to sniff at the pregnant tabby, nosing noisily at her belly much more carefully than he might do usually.]

[warcatalyst]

[Ah. Another apostate.

That was always a razor's edge these days, and Anders isn't sure he has the energy for a turf fight right now.

...then there is a dog in his face (or more accurately, Hawke's face) and he gasps. The cat blinks at the mabari, giving him the most unimpressed stare before she swipes at him with her claws.]

Maker, please don't fight on me? Ah, call of your hound before he slobbers all over my sweet lady!