allthisshitisweird | Test Drive Meme!

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.

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[The telltale sound of hooves pounding against dirt alerted the Fade-touched bears of the incoming squarm of Template brandishing steel and iron. These riders circle around the monstrous bears upon horseback as if coralling them like sheep. The bears instantly go on the on offense and lash out but they're instantly met with death.

Swords brutally cut through the throats and bellies of these massive brutes as the Knight-Commander of Pharos upon his white steed watches on with an impassive gaze. Sauveterre lingers on the sidelines for a moment watching the slaughter until turning his gaze elsewhere.

That's when he spots the Rifter.

A mere hint of curiosity lingers within those strange grey eyes as Sauveterre rides over. He says nothing as he approaches but his gaze speaks volumes. Just why is this strange man lingering out here in the wilderness? Curious.

While he does certainly look like your standard Templar, there's certain differences about the armor he and the others wear. For one thing, none of these men are boggled down with silver platemail but with lighter strips of steel meant more aggressive combat. The fact that they all wield two blades rather than one might be enough to hint their need for agility. Sauveterre is no different in that regard, expect he doesn't feel the need to don his helmet.]

Edited 2015-11-01 16:37 (UTC)

[Such monsters - and no, not just the bears. Vayne says very little and makes no motion to help, it is clear it would be unnecessary, and at this time he is unsure of how much he wishes to expose his own abilities, adequate that they are, but his magick...]

[Whatever else he had thought to contemplate in regards to the tactics and pacing of techniques, clothing and armor, the use of multiple weapons, it all slips from the Solidor's mind upon the instant recognition of the man's features.]

[He sucks in air, brows crunching in alarm. He notes there is no recognition in turn from the man he can only see as Judge Magister Zargabaath.]

[In a rare show for him, one he would chastise himself for later as showing weakness, he hesitates.]
You are...[Vayne keeps his posture controlled, amending himself.] Your assistance is most welcome within these monster laden lands.

[Sauveterre says nothing once he dismounts off his horse. Durandal's gaze is just as impassive as his since neither of them recognize this man from the hold. The Knight-Commander's expression changes briefly once the other speaks.

He takes a moment to eye the man's flamboyant attire before choosing to answer. With only one known Tevinter within the hold, Sauveterre wrongly assumes this man to hail from the Tevinter Imperium just based on the clothing alone.

A frown lingers upon his lips as he watches this stately fellow with an agitated gaze.]

Judging from the slithers of recognition within your gaze, I can tell you know of me. [He states at last after one too many minutes of judgmental silence.] State your business here.

Not many would foolishly tresspass through the Hinterlands unless seeking death.

[There's a strange accent that laces around his words, one that would sound suspiciously foreign much like a Rozarrian to Vayne. The Orlesians are known for their pompous accents and more sophisticated mastery of speech. Their culture differs greatly from that of the Fereldans.]

Edited 2015-11-01 18:59 (UTC)

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