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

Étienne Charbonneau De Bellrose | Native OC

[corsageguard]

5.

It would figure that they would have to pass through the Hinterlands on the way back from Therinfal Redoubt. They seem like an endless maze of land sometimes, often Étienne wondered what prompted Emperor Florian to ever decide he wanted to own it. The De Belleroses were staunch supporters of Empress Celene's hard-won peace if only for the trade and economics of it, but privately Étienne agreed with what he was certain was their other reasoning: Ferelden, as a whole, was best left to Fereldens.

With stragglers of danger still left behind in the wild green hills and mountains, there was certainly some work that could be done by their small contingent, and Étienne was assigned to be the one to find and make contact with the Inquisition's main forces in the area. Something about him being the civil and difficult to ruffle sort.

Maybe you're wearing the Inquisition's heraldry, maybe not and you just look like you might know a bit about the area. Either way Étienne approaches cautiously, his voice even and slightly accented that gives away his Orlesian heritage even if the overly-pretentious long name has yet to come into play.

"Pardon me, by chance would you know where the nearest Inquisition camp is?"

[dairsmuid]

Elian--in Inquisition heraldry, not looking particularly knowledgeable otherwise--drops his sprig of elfroot. The motion isn't startled, but it is vaguely guilty. He's supposed to be keeping watch. And not wasting resources by idly tearing them apart in the field. And wearing a helmet, probably, rather than leaving it on the ground beside his feet.

"I would," he says, which might have sounded mouthy if his tone weren't accommodating, accompanied by look that's more curious than suspicious. "Who's asking?"

The camp's location isn't a secret. It's really just around the closest enormous rocky hill, in plain view if the man wants to walk another half-mile past him. But that isn't a local accent, and Orlesians don't come tromping through Ferelden for no reason. Elian certainly wouldn't. It's freezing and muddy. He misses Rivain.

[corsageguard]

While another person might have been disapproving in the way they look at the helmet, the elfroot, then back up to Elian's face, Étienne's has carefully been trained out of showing any idle emotion on it.

"I am Ser Étienne with the contingent of Templars attached to the Inquisition returning from Therinfal Redoubt," Étienne says evenly, his hands clasped behind his back rather than resting on the sword at his hip. He knows how fast he can draw it if he needs. "My brothers in arms sent me to make contact with the closest camp to see if there's any assistance we can give as we are passing through the Hinterlands on the way back to Skyhold. Any help in finding the camp would be greatly appreciated, none of us are locals to the area."

[dairsmuid]

"Oh," Elian says.

He stands that much straighter. He is--was a Templar, himself, and his sister, Alis, was at Therinfal Redoubt. He's already received word she isn't among those returning now, but it's hard not to hope. He has to stuff it back down to keep himself from asking.

"I'm Elian," he says instead. "I was with the Order in Ayesleigh, before--" Before everything went from bad to worse, before his Knight-Commander died at the Conclave and the surviving Templars at Haven traded in for Inquisition armor. It goes without saying. "The camp isn't far. We've been having some trouble with the Carta, if you aren't too tired from your journey."

[adlaar]

Irah is standing by the roadside, inspecting a blue-flowering plant winding its way up a tree. Her travelling cloak is thick and heavy but made of expensive material, the hood hiked up. She doesn't wear Inquisition livery, but she's holding a massive black horse by the reins, its saddle stamped with the Inquisition's symbol. The same symbol hangs around her neck in gold, visible when she turns.

She pulls down the hood of her cloak, revealing horns and dark hair. And a smile.

"Lost in the wilds? How lucky I'm here to protect you." She's clearly not serious -- she has no weapons on her, and her clothes are those of a rich traveller, not a ranger or a warrior. In fact, it seems deeply inadvisable for her to be crossing dangerous territory alone, although her stature and the horns curling from her temples go some way towards making her seem intimidating.

[corsageguard]

You didn't become any kind of player in the Game or even a decent pawn in it if you didn't learn how to school your expressions, to keep your actual face better than any mask. Surprise was for chumps and toddlers.

Still, Étienne is struck silent for a moment, eyebrows raising just a bit.

He is rather unfortunately used to having to look up when talking to people. He has the compact build of a fencer through and through, not short for a man but only just barely. From her cloak, the horse, the medallion, the first thought would perhaps either be noble or the kind of merchant that straddles the line between nobility and not. Even so, either of those would denote some kind of bodyguard nearby should the person in question not carry any weapons in such an area, but Étienne sees none. No staff but Étienne knows some that have been able to break down to be smaller and easily hidden. Mage maybe?

All of that takes a scant few seconds to assess until she turns around fully and he sees horns and all that assessment goes out the window. Qunari doesn't fit with any of the possible outcomes.

Give him a second here.

"... My apologies for overstepping my bounds, but are you without an escort?" he asks first. Because really, no weapons and alone and richly dressed? This is asking for an ambush.

[adlaar]

"Are you offering?" she counters, still smiling.

In truth, she knows it's cocky for her to simply rely on her stature and a general air of confidence to keep her safe. She has a knife in her boot and a fast horse, neither of which will help her if she's set upon by a group. But Irah has never been able to resist a risk, and no matter how many times she's proved wrong, she has a hard time believing she can lose a gamble.

In any case, she's lucky. Good things happen to her. Like this. She suspects she can find uses for the good graces of a po-faced Orlesian Templar. If nothing else, she probably does need an escort, and some company that doesn't whinny is certainly required.