allthisshitisweird | TEST DRIVE MEME!

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TEST DRIVE MEME!

Surprise, Beartch

Bet You Thought Etc.

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.

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.

I. DRAGONS

There is a dragon in the Hinterlands. Everyone knows this. It's difficult not to notice when a dragon flies overhead with a mouth full of screaming sheep (alas, the poor dead sheep) or scorches your fishing boat and makes you swim for it (alas, the poor soaked fishermen). But she's only rarely sighted, and her lair is as of yet unknown, if "yet" is defined as "the moment before this exact moment, right now." Because you've found her. She is, at this very moment, screeching so loud it rattles the cliff sides that are trapping you in her territory and raining fire down over the only clear path of escape. She and her two dozen children don't care if you only wanted some elfroot and spindleweed. They also don't care if you have a sword. You look way more delicious and less woolly than a sheep.

II. CROSSROADS

In the year since the Inquisition's formation, the Crossroads have changed. Most of the refugees from the Mage/Templar War have moved on--if not back home, to new places--and there's been some progress rebuilding the homes and fortresses ruined by the war. Very few people are still living in caves. But rather than quieting down, the Crossroads have begun to bustle. Between the Inquisition's locally stationed forces and the increasing number of travelers and merchants now that the roads are safer, there's enough business to support a tavern with a few rooms for rent, and the Crossroads are becoming a trading post in their own right rather than a dot of houses on the path to Redcliffe--a great place to stop for a drink, to buy basic weaponry, or to unload all of the bear skins you've collected.

III. BEARS

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?

IV. CRYSTALS

Members and trusted agents of the Inquisition are given access to one of the Inquisition's stores of ancient, mysterious sending crystals, allowing them to communicate instantaneously by voice. It's magic. And a magical excuse to ask everyone what their favorite constellation is in the middle of the night.

Or to call for help because you've been treed by bears.

Either way.

V. MISCELLANEOUS

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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[Tim steps back out of the way, happy once again to get a look at the thing.]

You're, uh, still workin' on it? If you need anyone to help you test it, you know, get a second set of eyes and hands on it, another point of view...

[His voice is a little hoarse. He's pretty sure he's never wanted anything so bad, not even a dose of lyrium after days without.]

[ Laughing- not entirely unkind- ]

This is not for Bas.

[ Flattered as she is- no. It is barely for other Qunari at this point, so rough it is compared to what she knows it can be. ]

But it is good to know you find it impressive.

[Sigh. Damn Qunari.

Now he's going to have another unattainable figure in his daydreams, thanks.]

Well, if you ever change your mind about that... it's a nice piece of work, serah.

The Arishok would be displeased with me if this fell into anyone else's hands.

[ And it would likely be her head, rightly so. No re-educators here to turn herself into should such a slip come to pass. Better to not in the first place. ]

If you truly wish to help...

Long's it doesn't involve actually blowing me up with that.

[Though, what a way to go... but nah.]

I need more bears. [ From her pack she refills the bandoleer on her chest, loading it up with three fresh shells. ] There is a den just past that copse of trees. Draw them out and you will see more of what I have.

Why did I get the feeling it was more bears?

[Tim sighs, then laughs.]

The lady wants more bears, the lady gets more bears.

[Bear-baiting on purpose, it's dark times in the life of Timothy Gutterson. But he heads off to the bear den.

He'll be back when he's gone and got their attention, running in a route that'll take him right past her chalk mark. At which point he is going to hurl himself up onto the nearest tree branch and hope they're not too quick to follow.]

Because you are smarter than you look.

[ The pretty ones, she's learned, aren't usually all that clever.

Or at the very least are confident enough to say stupid things more often.

She makes another set of notations while she waits, butt resting against her hip, charge waiting and ready. He leaps for safety- she pulls the trigger. This particular shell has a harder, higher charge- the crackboom reverberating a fair while as a burning twist of steel spirals through the air, cracking in half upon impact.

Viscous and heated- what looks like liquid green fire spatters across the bear. Some unholy combination of clear pitch, acid, and antivan fire. She hasn't named it yet. ]

[Aw, is she calling him pretty?

He clings onto the tree trunk and lets out a string of particularly obscene expletives that his training masters probably would have put him on bread and water for, lightly pounding the bark with his fist. That shit is terrifying.]

Keeps gettin' better!

[ The next bear comes in just as fast, barreling through the smoldering remains of its fellows, heedless of the fire- ]

Hold your breath!

[ Down swings the back end, in slams the next shell, marked with a black band, up again in a fluid motion that comes from long practice. Aim, fire, the high arc without trail that seems perfectly innocent- up until it bursts like a smoke filled bubble once it strikes the bear. Black, acrid, smelling of dust and sulfur- this heavy smoke sinks around the bear as it chokes, stumbles, attempts to continue it's charge-

and collapses. ]

Do not hop down until the smoke dissipates.

[Tim holds on tight and nods, not wanting to breathe in something that can make a bear fall over. He's just one small ex-Templar.

Once the smoke is clear he drops back to the ground and moves away before he takes a gulp of air.]

You're a whole new kind of scary.

[He sounds absolutely pleased by this.]

So I have heard.

[ Her smirk has just a hint of bite to it. This run went better, especially the smoke. ]

It is my job to be scary and make scary things. [ Positive notes about the shells can be sent back home- the formula stable enough for use in the normal cannons. ] And it is your job to...?

[Tim shrugs. He doesn't have a permanent assignment in the Inquisition yet.]

I was running some messages to Redcliffe when these furry friends showed up.

Messenger boy. [ Huh. ] I am Issaquntaar- but you may call me Issa.

[ Bandoleer reloaded, weight belt adjusted she pushes herself to her feet, rolling out her shoulders. Even for a female Qunari she's tall, broad, and a deep, almost brassy grey. ]

Do you need an escort the rest of the way?

I may not be able to shred people, but I've been known to take care of myself.

[His manly pride (tm) considers being injured, but nah. She's taller than him, broader than him, and has a bigger weapon.]

If you're going the same way, I won't say no to company, though.

[ Her eyes narrow slightly, brow arching as her eyes trail from his head to his toes and back up, carefully assessing.

Riiiiight goes unsaid, but is evident enough in the shift of her shoulders and angle of her head. ]

There is a mineral in Redcliffe I have been told about. I can also use the opportunity for more tests.

[Under the leather armour, he's a fairly strapping lad, and he knows how to use the bow he carries. Ex-Templars, not just for looking pretty.]

If we run into anything else that wants to kill us, you definitely get first shot.

Good. I am still trying to peg the maximum accurate distance on some of these shells.

[ Current range is good- but it could be better. ]

How do you make 'em shoot? Some sort of rune in there?

[He's dying of curiosity. D y i n g.]

You have never seen a Qunari dreadnought, have you? [ The specific how is unknown, true, but the gist? Is common enough knowledge in the north. ]

Can't say that I have. [He is thinking about it now and he remembers something about it not being magical. That was about as far as the Templar discussions about it had gone, though, at least with him around.]

They explode things, don't they? Without magic?

[And thus...]

How many times has that thing exploded on you?

Mhmm. [ she taps the barrel of her cannon. Smaller, lighter, more dangerous. Risky in so many ways. ]

This? Never. The shells? Eeeeh. Sometimes I do not mix them so well, sometimes the components are temperamental.

It's worth the risk, though?

[He's still so jealous.]

To tear a Vint battlemage apart at one hundred paces when they think they are safe on land?

[ A bit more bite in her smile, now. Cheerful but- vicious. ]

Oh yes.

Shit.

[You're really making him jealous here.]

(no subject)

thesteelwolf - 2016-09-16 18:16 (UTC) - Expand

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