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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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It all happened too fast.

One minute there was a man screaming in terror of the bears and the next swords hacking away through flesh and bone. If it hadn't been for the faint familiar glimmer of armor, the poor mage would've thought that the Maker himself struck those bears down. Alayre, Master of the Twofold Blades and the alleged Hero of Pharos, literally rips into these bears at full force with a speed uncommon of a Templar.

He slashes at the throat of the first bear after quickly stabbing the Iceblade through the skull of another. The next bear dies encased within enchanted ice once Winter's Grasp grabs ahold of it. Alayre then finishes the frozen bear with a powerful thrust of his secondary blade that shatters it. The other two bears are very much alive but blood is splattered all across the grass marking their end near. The Knight-Commander stands there dauntless at the ghastly sight pointing his blades towards the mortally wounded bears with something akin to fury in his grey gaze.

"Are you able?" The Templar asks once one of the surviving bears starts to succumb its wounds.

Templar. It's a Templar he's run into, and Anders has the staff off his back the moment it clicks clear in his mind. He should have let the bears have this man. Justice longed to leave this man behind, abandon him to the bears, but Anders could tell that the creatures wouldn't live long, and then the Templar would of course pursue a fleeing mage. He's had a desire to live since spared at Kirkwall, a desire to make it worth the pain he'd caused Hawke, and that holds him in place.

"Depends." His voice is as cold as the ice the Templar's weapon appears to be enchanted with. "Do you intend to turn on me next, as most of your order would turn on a mage?"

The choice is clear, though. Fight a bear and possibly walk away alive because he's assisted this... this Templar, or wind up in a fight that in his state he can't win. Justice hates this, but even he isn't ready to end their struggle just yet.

A moment later one fireballs streak toward one of the injured bears and it bursts into rather satisfying flames, if not the most appealing scent. Cooked bear meat is tasty. Burnt bear flesh, not so much.

The frigidness in the mage's tone nearly matches the iciness of Alayre's gaze as he answers him. With one of the bears bleeding out upon the grass and now the other burnt to a crisp by magic, the Templar points his blades towards the mage. "Shall you give me a reason to turn my fury upon you, sorcerer?" He asks coldly with every word laced with an all too obnoxious accent.

He's Orlesian. That's an Orlesian Templar standing before Anders with a pair of enchanted blades. How peculiar, no?

It should go without saying that as a member of the Order, Alayre should've already ran this mage through with his swords. The only good mage is dead one, isn't it? That seems to be what the bastards at Kirkwall believe but Alayre doesn't hail from there. So instead of challenging this mage to a fight, the Templar's gaze softens a little and he lowers his swords.

"Surely you don't expect me to find sport harming a fleeing mage."

While the blades are pointed at him Anders braces, readying himself to fight. He'll have to surrender control if he's to survive this... and then the Templar stands down. It could still be a trick. Anders had seen how quickly the man moved to begin with. There's still danger and this man is a Templar. The only good Templar is a dead one. Except there had been a couple in Anders' experience who hadn't outright hated mages, just a few among the otherwise cruel oppressors who were delusional enough to think they were helping the situation.

He breathes out instead of attacking, but his staff isn't put back into its holster.

"I've met plenty who would." Anders' gaze flickers to the hills around them, toward where he'd found a mage body just hours ago, and all he could do was close her eyes. "And the Hinterlands hold proof of this when all so many of us seek is freedom." It's a challenge as much as a statement. He has no reason to trust any Templar, though at least this one has yet to use any barbed words, apostate, deserter, anything with an edge.

From this far, it would only take a few seconds for Alayre to close the distance between him and this mage. Probably less than thirty seconds considering how incredibly fast the Orlesian moves.

Most Templar are built for defense but this one here adjusted his armor for speed to match his unique fighting style. The armor he wears certainly look reminiscent of the Order but with minor modifications that take the absurd bulkiness out of it. Regardless, this man still carries himself like a Templar and that mage has every right to fear him. In fact, he should fear Alayre since the Knight-Commander is almost certain he could kill him.

"Mayhaps you're in need of a mindless butcher to assist with your suicide but you shan't find one here." He replies sarcastically in an oddly quiet tone. The Templar twirls his blade skillfully within his leather gloved hands before quickly sheathing the swords within their proper scabbards. With the Iceblade sheathed on his right and the Melody Moon at his left, Alayre approaches.

"Seek your freedom at your own cost but do be mindful of the bears."

Anders stiffens further as the Templar approaches. The swords are sheathed, and that doesn't explain why the man is getting closer. Nor does it explain why an Orlesian is out here. Is he part of this Inquisition that's formed? Does Anders even want to ask instead of leaving? It might be safer to simply depart.

He's never been good at doing what's safer.

"What brings an Orlesian templar who doesn't find fun in slaughtering mages to the Hinterlands?" Is there somewhere where there's more like that? Where it's safe for a mage, if even for a night? Even harder to find would be somewhere he's safe, where no one will recognize his face, but he'll take this one step at a time. It's too much to hope for a cot or a warm meal, but company for a few moments that doesn't outright despise him for his very nature would be welcome.

"The Inquisition." The Templar answers curtly. "I doubt my answer surprises you." Now literally circling the mage much like a bird of prey, Alayre continues.

"Many seek asylum at Skyhold in favor of death. The hold is current home to thousands of wayfarers hoping to find freedom." He scoffs somewhat as that accursed word rolls off his lips. Freedom. Every blasted mage on this side of Thedas desires "freedom" but what of those who aren't magically incline? What do these people seek at Skyhold? This is the question no one ever asks.

"Whatever shall you do, Ser Mage? Linger within the Hinterlands further and tempt the limits of your pitiful mortality or flee to Skyhold?" The Templar finally stops circling the mage and settles at the man's left. He noticed earlier that the mage is right handed, so he stands on his left out of spite. While the mage's casting time is quick, Alayre suspects the mage will be three seconds or so slower than normal if he tries to aim a spell at him from this angle.

Flee to Skyhold. There's a hole in that proposal. Two, actually. There are two people who know him who are rumored to be at Skyhold, with this Inquisition, and while Anders doesn't think the Dwarf would betray who he is, he knows the Templar will. And if this Templar is to speak with the other, Cullen, what then? Likely nothing. He's one more hungry, nameless apostate who happens to have blond hair running around in the Hinterlands, that's all. Unless he snaps, unless he slips up, and that's far too likely for his taste as the Templar takes position on Anders' left.

Anders steps back and to the side, coming to face the Templar again. He'll not be caught off-guard. It's almost like the Templar is trying to provoke him.

"And what happens once the conflict is settled, and all of the mages are together in one convenient spot? What protects them? I'll not deny that I'd like a night free of worries of bears. But the price may be too high."

At least that seems like a simple enough explanation for him not heading that way yet. It's inevitable, though. His path will take him there. If the fate of mages is to be in the hands of the Inquisition, that's where he'll need to be.

"All of my life as a mage I've simply wished to be free of Templars, to have the right to make my own choices. I can't say surrendering what little I've gained for the sake of a hot meal right back underneath cold, calculating eyes is worth it." He can't afford to have this Templar be suspicious, but this isn't the only time he's had to be sneaky. He ran an entire underground. This, he can manage. Provided he keeps Justice in check.

A low rumble of a chuckle escapes Alayre as this mage adjusts his stance. The Templar crosses his arms over his chest as he listens to the mage. Despite Alayre not intentionally trying to provoke the mage, he cannot help but feel on edge. There's just something about this man that makes him subconsciously grind his teeth.

Something foul. It's truly confusing to say the least.

"I shan't tempt you any further to seek out the Skyhold." Alayre replies after a brief moment of thought. "No one knows what the future lies in store but as Knight-Commander, I show no interest in reprising my role as your jailer or executioner." The Templar says before suddenly turning away.

"The choice lies with you, mage. Seek out the realm where sky and land touch or remain here. I will tempt you no longer."

A Knight-Commander. Maker, would he even have stood a chance had the man wanted to kill him? Scarred, smoking circle of bodies from after he'd joined with Justice notwithstanding, Anders simply isn't an expert combat mage. He's a healer. A possessed healer who has done everything wrong in his attempt to make things right.

He lets the Knight-Commander get a couple of steps away before speaking again. "Are there more?" A beat, before he quickly clarifies, "more Knight-commanders who don't seek to cage all mages in towers? Who don't view them as simply a matter of time before they go off and... I don't know, start slitting their wrists and dancing under moonlight under showers of blood magic?"

Greagoir had had not been horrible, but he'd been cold and more than ready to kill Anders after his second escape attempt. Meredith... The less said or thought about Meredith, the better. Both had been ready to see blood magic where there was none, however.

Alayre halts in mid step when the mage questions him. "I am not alone." He replies honestly with a hint of pride in his tone. Not all of them are butchers and not all of them are violently savage towards mages. The Order has a long road until redemption but Alayre knows he doesn't walk this path alone.

"The bad blood that lingers between Mage and Templar will eventually fade as all things do. The time for change is upon us." He turns slowly so he could face the mage again. Despite the manner of their meeting, Alayre shan't be rude.

"Our current plight is tied together through our sacrifices along with our willingness to obtain solace. Only together can we provoke the change necessary to bring an end to all of our suffering." It's widely known that the Mages are more willing to speak of their suffering unlike the Templars who hold to their silence. The foul deeds of the Chantry has left many good men like Alayre drunk and obsessed with power through the effects of lyrium. While this isn't the bulk of the problem within itself, the Chantry's abuse in power certainly plays as much of a role as the Templar.

"The Mages and the Templar are a duality, two sides of the same coin. One cannot exist without the other but neither should rule over each other. There must be balance."

It's so hard to hope.

It's been so hard, ever since... Ever since Karl, really. Can he really believe this Templar, that there's a chance that the order can change from the inside? Justice thinks they can't, that every one must pay for what they've done, but Anders is tired. He's tired of fighting, of running, of death and destruction answered by more death and destruction and it shows in his expression and stance as he quietly contemplates the words he's hearing. The concept of Templars suffering is laughable, but certainly there are going to be some in every group who think they struggle, even among the privileged.

"Balance," he finally echoes. There's no real room for him in a balanced society, but to see it get there... For the briefest moment he lets his eyes close before snapping them back open. He can't afford to trust words. Certainly the Templar hadn't attacked him and that justifies a little faith, but not enough to drop his guard completely.

Anders takes a step backward again, before giving the man a slow nod. "You may see me at Skyhold. I make no promises. But an end to suffering..." He sighs. It's not all he's ever wanted, not with the need for vengeance burned into him time and time again through his anger and Justice's, well, Justice-ness, but for Anders it might be enough. "That would be nice, if such a thing is possible."

"Good... Good day." And it's the first time he's ever said that to a Templar and meant it.

A hint of sorrow lingers within his gaze as he watches the mage turn away. As much as he speaks prettily of this alleged beautiful and bright future that will surely come, Alayre cannot help but doubt himself. What can one man go against the rising tide when all the others have failed? He desperately wants to put this war torn past behind him but he cannot. How can he possibly undo decades of savagery by just his hands alone? Alayre knows his fighting against the tide here but he honestly believe that he'll win.

"You will?" He questions in muted awe once the mage speaks of Skyhold. "Believe me when I say that not all is perfect but progress comes slowly." Alayre admits with a tense smile that suddenly appears. It almost hurt to smile to this mage. There's plenty who would wisely doubt the words of a Templar just out of fear alone. No matter how earnestly he speaks, Alayre knows there will always be doubt because of what he represents.

"Safe travels, good ser."

It sounds like the man means what he says, and the glimpse of a smile before Anders turns to go almost has him stop and come anyway, now, despite the risk. What would it be like, to see this progress beginning? Anders no longer wishes to surrender his life, but to see something rise from the destruction he'd been key in setting into motion could perhaps be worth it. Justice, fairness, equality, rather than ashes and pain and more death.

He pauses, glancing back in the vague direction he knows Skyhold rests in. No. Not today. He'd caught sight of some mages moving slowly earlier, and he needs to offer a hand with healing for their injured first. Once he's attended to a little more of the debt he's incurred toward mages, maybe he'll let his feet take him to a sight he's long desired to see.

"Maybe. I said you may." There's a thousand ways for a lone mage to die in the Hinterlands. He's also got an added hand when it comes to surviving, though, and a lot of experience being on the run. "We'll see."

And then he's walking, actually turning his attention away from the Templar enough to start seeking the landmarks he'd spotted earlier, before bears had so rudely interrupted his walk.

( now app here so Anders and Alayre can meet again! /sales pitch )

(I'm liking the feeling of the setting, it's pretty likely I will.)

( "No Cages for Mages" Is our slogan! /it's not but it's catchy )

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Test Drive Meme!

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I really like your templar!

Why thank you!

You're welcome!

^-^