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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It was likely Cade's pallor made him appear more youthful, as the man was well into his thirties. He hadn't fallen unconscious, and seemed greatly discomforted by the sudden forcing of the vial into his mouth. He pushed it away and coughed, steadying himself on the ground.

"No, sir," he said in a rasp, and looked up at the other approaching men, his fear ratcheting higher. "We've betrayed the Chantry," he wheezed, "the men are like animals... there's no law, there's no Maker in this." He wiped his bloody forehead with one of his gloves, and only managed to smear it around. "Forgive me, sir, I couldn't stop them."

Alayre had feared that the other had succumbed to his wounds but he's glad to see otherwise. "Betrayed the Chantry?" Renegades. A tense sigh escapes the Knight-Commander as he listens to what transpired. It would seem that the Order is forever cursed with turncoats and betrayers. The Maker has truly averted his eyes away from them. It's a sobering truth that Alayre finds himself slowly believing.

"Save your forgiveness for the Maker." Alayre says with no hint of anger or judgment in his tone. It makes no sense to condemn the other for his failures. "As of now, you must earn redemption and assist us in slaying the men who've become fiends."

Cade ducked his head, contrition and devastation written equally in the tension of his features. "Please, sir," he said hoarsely, "they're good men, turned desperate by circumstance." If they were denied absolution, he should be as well, he reasoned; he who had brought them here in the first place.
"It's my fault," he persisted, his head drooping further as he rested on his knees, cradling his face in one armored hand.

A hint of surprise lingers within Alayre's cold gaze as he regards the Templar before him. Good men? Would 'good men' turn their backs against their creed in turn for depravity? Would 'good men' become mere beasts in the face of adversity? While the Order is far from perfect, Alayre is no coward. He would never turn his back on his oath and will fight for the sake of a better tomorrow. This is why he's having a tough time reconciling with the thought of sparing these traitors.

"You mean to have me coddle them after they've made their decision?" There's a slight scoff that comes with his words. "That would show weakness on my part to allow them to escape punishment for their actions but you speak earnestly for their salvation." A slight sigh escapes Alayre as he tries to find the right words.

"Therefore, I shall take your plea into consideration."

Cade looked up, surprised by the conversation's turn, but nonetheless given hope. It didn't cheer him, per se-- it was hardly a cheerful situation-- but at least it might not have to end with him slaughtering his own men.

"As their commanding officer, it was my failure to control them," he said, slowly and stiffly rising to his feet. The man was a wreck, barely able to stand from exhaustion, but he was committed. He kept his gaze forward and rigid, his eyes haunted, as he said, "any punishment you visit on them, I must receive as well, for my mistakes." If they had to die, so must he. The trust he placed in the Order was implicit, even in its current state.

There's nothing about the sheer gravity of this conversation that's even remotely cheerful. Alayre wears a grim face as he speaks but he isn't without kindness. If this Templar is so willing to redeem the names of his comrades through martyrdom, then clearly the man before him is worth the consideration. The Orlesian shall spare him and pardon his comrades as long as these renegades don't commit the same mistakes.

While the Knight-Commander is indeed kind, Alayre doesn't take well to having his kindness abused. Simply ask the five Templar hailing from his regime who met with death for betraying him. Justice is blind but swift when it comes to revenge. This is Alayre perfectly.

"You shan't face the end of my blade just yet. Neither you or your men will be executed as long as I deem you worthy of my pardon."

Cade gave a wincing nod but straightened, determined to maintain a sense of dignity despite how far he had fallen.

He turned away with a shout of "to me!" that went immediately unheeded. He drew his sword to stride in the direction his wayward men had gone, passing the bodies of several mingled with those of the errant mages. It had been a bloodbath, and though he himself was not innocent of killing the rebels, he had not been consumed by the same bloodlust. They were here to bring them to heel, after all, but this was madness.

A hundred or so paces away, in a cluster of trees, was a Templar menacing a pair of injured apostates. Cade had only time to shout "Virann!" when a third mage appeared from behind, piercing their aggressor with an icy shard.
Cade's voice died in his throat as he witnessed this, and he stepped back, sword drawn and hand shaking, as all three mages directed their attention at him.

[I'm this journal now!]

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