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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"I didn't bring a sword," Sansa says, shaking her head. She'd only brought herself, honestly, and barely that. Being here isn't what she had planned but considering the alternative, with Ramsay, she'll take the bear.

"I'm sorry. If I had known, I could have prepared, possibly?"

"Well, I suppose today is simply filled with bad surprises, eh?" He gave her a slight smirk, as he looked around, "All right, here is what I propose. Take a handful of rocks. I am going to start throwing rocks at the creature from here, to distract it. You run to the next closest high ground, and start throwing rocks at it from there, to draw it's attention away. I shall run to the next highest spot, and begin to throw rocks. First though ..."

He scanned the strange skyline, then pointed. "Smoke, in that direction. That is where we are going to try to get to. Hopefully, there will be some nice people with very large weapons."

It's a very clever plan, all told. Sansa isn't much for this type of strategy and prefers, instead, political intrigue. Still, she thinks she can manage to distract a bear for a short while so they can both get to safety.

"All right. I'll make a break for the next set of rocks once you have the bear occupied?"

"Precisely so, Lady Sansa." He gave her an encouraging, if not crooked smile, as he tapped his torn apart nose. "Just remember, watch where you are going, and keep heading in that direction. Are you ready?"

For he has the first rock in hand, and he knows precisely where to aim it.

Sansa nods quickly and starts darting toward the next outcropping of rocks. She doesn't stop until she's scrambled atop it and has rocks in hand; she's torn her gown in the process and scraped an ugly mark against one shin.

"Lord Tyrion, I'm here!" she calls out. She starts pelting the bear with her stones in order to distract it from Tyrion's flight.

Meanwhile, Tyrion heaved giant stones at the bear, causing it to snarl and jump up at him. Tyrion sneered past his own bloody fear, yelling things at the bear as loudly as he could, to keep the beast's attention on him.

He backed away though, letting the bear get distracted enough for him to escape to the next outcropping, his short legs hobbling up as quickly as he could. Oh, this was going to hurt like fire later ...

"Over here you wretched pile of fleas!" He bellowed, nodding at Sansa to get ready to make the next run.

Sansa catches his eye for a moment before running to the next outcropping. It goes on like this for a few more cycles before she's close enough to the smoke to see that it's a camp. Oh. That might be good, right?

"Tyrion!" Now, Sansa has a spear. She has no idea how to use one, mind, but she thinks heaving it in the general direction of the bear is probably a good idea so she does that and hopes for the best.

Seven's Blessings but it is a camp. It is sadly a camp that does not have any people in it, but it is a camp with a camp fire and yes, look, a spear. A spear that Sansa throws - and while it doesn't hit the bear anywhere vital -- it does get him right in the paw. The creature yelps and pulls back, starting to run.

Tyrion's moving towards the campfire, "Quick! Grab a branch! We'll scare it away."

Sansa grabs the branch and sets it alight, waving it toward the bear to frighten it away. It startles, finally, and seems to be perfectly happy to beat off back to the bushes to nurse its wounds instead of troubling them any longer.

Once the adrenaline of it wears off, there's a dull stinging in her shin that reminds her that yes, she's injured. She'd come through the rift injured, running from Ramsay, and her slide down the rocks had done her no favors.

"My lord, I have to tend to my leg. I'm bleeding," she says, lifting her torn skirt a bit to show him.

Tyrion huffs out a breath of relief, then turns to the camp in which they've found themselves. Well, it was hardly a room in the King's Landing -- but there was fire and a tent. Good enough for Tyrion.

He looked over at her, before his lips press together. "We'll have to find something to clean your wounds, then bandage them. Go on, sit. I'll see if they have clean water."

Sansa is happy enough to sit, though she's afraid that she might not get back up again any time soon. The flight had given her energy to keep away from the bear but now that she's settled, she cannot help but sigh and feel the weariness seep into her bones.

"I never would have gotten away alone. Thank you, Tyrion."

He found a water skin, and a bed sheet he began to tear to make her a bandage. Honestly, no one had come across them yet so he was hoping they could beg their host's indulgence.

Clearing his throat, he offered her the bandage, and the clean cloth, stating simply, "I have not the right to push up your dress, Sansa."

Another pause, and a crooked smile. "We are in this together, are we not?"

Sansa pulls up her dress to begin tending her wound. "I think an exception could have been made in this instance, my lord," she says quietly. She's grateful for his help even if he's casual about it and she hopes she's conveyed that.

She quickly bandages the wound and the bleeding appears to have have slowed if not stopped completely. It will heal clean, she thinks, provided she sees a maester soon.

"We are in this together. I will not leave you and I hope you will not leave me?"

Tyrion cleared his throat, before he nodded and held her skirts up and out of the way so she can take care of the wound on her leg. Her question pulls his attention away from the horizon, then to her. His eyes widen a little, before he states quietly.

"I will not leave you here alone, Sansa."

"Good. If we are to survive, we must work together," Sansa says. She finishes bandaging the wound. It's not terribly deep, though it is long, and she hopes it will not leave a mark. And yet, if it did? She supposes it's better than others she has.

"We will need to help one another. I think that's the only way to figure this place out, my lord."

"I could not agree more." He waits until she is done to drop her skirts, then eye the tents with interest. "The first thing we need to do is figure out how we are going to survive. Let us see what our friends have left in this camp, then see if we can find some sort of ... map. Food. Supplies. A weapon would not go amiss."

"I don't know how to use a weapon," Sansa confesses. She imagines this isn't much of a shock, considering, but she wants to be honest. They should know what tools they have to work with.

"We should try to get toward other people. It's more likely than not that they will be able to help us and we won't do well out here alone."

"I know. I shall have to teach you a few basics while we're here - like how to hold a knife and where to stick it." He murmured, as he went through the packs. "You might not be able to take on a knight in the field, but I'll be thrice damned if I don't leave you with something to defend yourself with."

Another nod to his head, "I agree - and - hello, hello. A satchel filled with papers. Excellent ... now we'll have some intelligence. Take a look around, see if you see more smoke, while I go through these."

Sansa takes a quick look around and she spots another plume of smoke toward the northwest. It's far enough away that she can't quite make out if it's a town or just another camp but it's definitely smoke and that means signs of human activity.

"I think we should try toward the northwest, Tyrion," she says, pointing that way. "It looks like it might be getting us closer to someone who might be able to aid us."

"All right, let me find something to defend us both, and we can be off." Tyrion stated, after he finished gathering up supplies and putting them in a satchel. "Find whatever else you can carry - and we will leave them a note letting them know we will ... ah, pay them back some day."

When they had gold. And some idea where they were.

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TEST DRIVE MEME!

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