TEST DRIVE MEME!

[faderifting]

I ROLL TO SEDUCE THE BEAR

Tucked between the massive Lake Calenhad and the icy Frostback Mountains in Ferelden’s chilly, hilly south, the Hinterlands are a region covered in patchy forests, small farms, and a bustling fishing village called Redcliffe. The region was recently the frontline of a war between mages and Templars, but the Inquisition’s military presence has restored order and is now focused on helping the locals and influx of refugees rebuild their lives. Whether you’re a recent recruit or a hardened veteran, a Fereldan local or someone who recently fell out of a rift from another world, you may be asked to go lend a hand.

I. FLOODS

A burst of unseasonably warm weather (in no way inspired by real life events) is initially greeted with relief, gloves discarded and scarves unwrapped—but followed within the week by severe flooding across the region. Maybe you’re sent out to help debris from a road or collect the bodies of those swept away. Or maybe you’re less lucky and instead there when the waters come, shepherding refugees to higher ground, or caught riding in the flow on a dislodged roof or log. Maybe there’s a bear on the roof with you.

II. TREASURE HUNTS

Given the lack of banks and lockboxes, when the people here have something they value, they often hide it—under the ground, in a tree, behind a waterfall. So here you are, with a sketch of some landmarks found on a body, trying to find… something. If you find it, it might be useful: weapons, runes, a stash of supplies. Or it might be someone’s box of racy letters and a request to deliver them to a now-married woman who will slap you on delivery.

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.

Comments

[meds4sale]

"I would not know. Do you?" He asked. He wasn't sure if there was a way to tell a 'surface' dwarf from any other by sight alone. After all, they all seemed rather short and hairy.

"I believe I recognize this landmark now. Though if I recall, it was about six miles in the other direction."

[lyriumcarved]

[Ah, good. Now he gets to go through the whole explanation about the glowing lyrium brands. Just what he needs. Fenris drops the heart, then busies himself with shaking the blood from his sword. He cleans it off on the bear carcass next, before finally looking over at her.]

If you must know, I didn't learn it... It was given to me.

[Well, it's actually the truth... though he doesn't sound exactly thrilled at that fact. Nor does he look at all thrilled, a wary, suspicious look on his face.]

[lyriumcarved]

Just what sort of magic powers it? Can it be trusted?

[It's like nothing he's seen before, which means he absolutely won't trust it.]

[eolasemah]

[Of course she doesn't. With a little smile and nod of understanding, Sina takes the knife and continues what he was doing, her automatic deftness indicating this isn't her first time performing such a task. In fact, there are few he could have given her that would come more naturally.

She works in silence for a little while, respectful of the overall serenity of the healing tents, but eventually she has to ask.]

What's your plan?

[dissono]

( wild wood elves presumably have to cut up herbs as well, gervais presumes, prepared to be more glad for her skilled assistance than he is surprised by it. he worked alongside elves often enough in the circle -

though he is not fool enough to think that even in a circle, the difference meant nothing. not when his own accident of birth still mattered, still counted for something; the experience of a city elf in the white spire was not the same as the experience of the scion of a noble house.

but she poses his question back to him. he takes his time with it. )

For, for, for my own, ah, part.

( his expressions are barely there; long-ingrained steadiness, habitual understatement. he is a man who has spent his entire life holding still, looking harmless - it lingers even now. there is no great sigh, just a brief moment where his hand is still and flat on the table. )

I will, ah, write. I will write. A letter, to, ah, to -

to someone I, ah, hope will read it.

[gatheringstorm]

I hope some of those chased down were part of a club that began with 'V'. And that you scared the shit out of them before they died.

[Venomous? Yeah, but that's what happens when the Venatori go after her kadan. She takes the glass and sips, the wine improving her mood and renewing her focus.]

Let's start with ten. Silver, or go home.

[Betting copper is for the kiddie table, okay.]

[circleprodigy]

It's a variant of magic I am not familiar with, but I know it stores messages and allows you to speak with an individual in private, if you wish it. 'Trust' is a strange word to use for a device, but I have not heard of it malfunctioning in any way.

[crowncitizen]

[Prompto grins and shakes his paw. What a smart doggo. He lets go and gives Garahel a good scratch behind the ears. It's comforting to see a dog here, in a place so foreign and different from home.]

It used to be worse?

[What the shiiiiiit]

Guess I'm glad I missed that. My name's Prompto. I... I'm not from around here.

[romanticamnesiac]

Demons and spirits you say? I've had a bit of experience with those before, though usually they never turn out to be what they pretend. They're usually not too much trouble.

[Because the ones here shouldn't be too hard either, right?]

[romanticamnesiac]

[And when Adric arrives the Doctor is waiting already, inspecting the various plants in the garden with open curiosity. Even forgetting to let the young man know what he looks like, he's reasonably easy to pick out, his clothing choices standing out even more here, and he smiles immediately when he catches sight of his past companion.]

Adric!

[Immediately he's abandoning what he'd been studying and rushing over to pull Adric into a hug.]

It really is you!

[romanticamnesiac]

Some matters are better left to turn to ash instead of rekindled.

[There's a pause, then he softens.]

I'd love to welcome you aboard my TARDIS again if I could, you know. But I'm afraid all I can offer is reminiscing a bit.

[romanticamnesiac]

I suppose you're right. That and we're usually called all manner of things anyway. 'Hey you', 'Stop him', or my personal favourite 'Seize him!'.

[He grins broadly.] Although it occurs to me that you likely get those as well so it's not terribly helpful.

[Starting off, he gestures for his older self to take the lead.] Come on then, let's not stand around wasting time. Tell me about this place then, how long have you been here?

[not_the_question]

[He chuckles softly. Ah the memories.]

Oh, Yes. Yes. Yes. Just this way, then, I can talk on the way.

[He gestures the way.]

I've been here about two months? [He taps his head.] Things are a little hard to read here. I think it's the Rifts. That's what the natives call those things we came through. Reached me through the TARDIS too. But be careful. The Natives think that anyone who comes through them are 'demons'.

[romana2]

Well, I've had the Presidential TARDIS, so no TARDIS is a welcome change.

[Well, she's trying to be positive.]

It would be good to see you again, though. It's been too long.

[puravida]

Wisdom, indeed. It takes all sorts — a reminder she must try to hold, surrounded as they are by such... varied company.

"If you were certain of His plans, I should only doubt." A small smile. "It speaks well for you to have come here. I have not been long, but it is clear they need every soul."

[pawpatrol]

[ The less you’ve to compare things to, the more permanent they seem. Even the old steps look novel to her. A new world, and it just keeps getting newer.

She watches him a moment, wary behind an exaggerated casualness. But he’s done her a favour already, has bought himself a little trust — and more to the point: she’s no chicken.

Cerise pushes up a sleeve, presents the mark into his hands. ]

A little. [ But not so bad, now. A deep, spiny bruise, where there’d once been burn; the terror she might lose an arm. It’s been worth it. ] They say it’s better if you stick around the others.

[ She throws him a look, at that. Most of the others so far are roundly insane. Possibly demons. It’s too easy of a lie if you want to keep everyone penned together, in easy sight. ]

[firstminister]

"Doubt tends to be deadly in these troublesome times."

He looks down at her handiwork.

"I imagine the Maker has blessed this place. He has certainly blessed you with fine skill-work."

ii

[meds4sale]

[The Medicine Seller was out and about gathering herbs. For medicine. Definitely not for recreation. At all. He's a responsible 1000+ year old adult.]

[He was also terribly nosy about things that were definitely none of his business, so when he spotted the man crouched down by a box of letters, he had to meddle, of course.]

[He approached from the side so as not to startle him, and peered down at the paper Fenris was trying to make sense of.]

"Oh my dearest Isobelle, the throbbing of my heart is matched only by that of my loins."

[Never has there ever been a more deadpan reading of a note so passionate. The Medicine Seller sniffed.]

And scented by a perfume with a base of almond and apricot oils. My goodness.

...

You do not appear to be an Isobelle, however.

[puravida]

A laugh, not unkind.

"That is not the Maker, but I thank you all the same." She ties off the stitch, folds the cloth over again. "Here, the seam should not show too terribly. Vida d’Orsay,"

He doesn’t sound Orlesian, and she wouldn’t expect a poor man to know her reputation, anyway. In some ways, that's a relief. An opportunity to avoid some of the cities' stifling pomp.

"I was sent by Duchess Trellier, after the troubles at Halamshiral." Vida presses a hand lightly to his shoulder, as she offers back the robe. "Should your fellow travelers have need, I am easily found."

As assumption, but few make the journey to Skyhold alone.

[tevinterschampion]

[ Whyever would Fenris be suspicious of a Tevinter mage. One that is eyeballing his tattoos with great interest. ]

Those tattoos were given to you? I suppose lyrium tattoos would be able to distort the Veil for long enough--I have heard of such an idea. I have not heard of it being truly attempted. I would think that much lyrium exposure would have adverse effects.

[ He seems oddly unhappy with the ability, however. Maybe he has slip ups and accidentally puts his hand through someone's head occasionally. ]

[circleprodigy]

[Garahel rumbles happily at the ear-scratching, leaning into Prompto for that. Inessa nods at the information, unsurprised.]

I thought as much. Your accent is decidedly non-Fereldan.

If you have tired of the local wildlife, we are returning to the nearest Inquisition camp to rest. You're welcome to join us.

[circleprodigy]

That is...decidedly not the case here. Even spirits have the potential for harm, but demons thrive on it. They can possess a mage, and the resulting abomination is easily capable of destroying villages on its own before felled.

[firstminister]

"Isn't it? You don't think that such skills and gifts come from the Maker?"

Interesting. He may not blend in as well as he would like. At the mention of his travel companions, though, his face fell slightly. This story was well practised.

"I was travelling with my friend, first along the Imperial Highway and then across... We fell to some bandits. I tried to tell my friend to not fight them, but..."

He shook his head to indicate that his friend didn't make it. And then he straightened, as if he was recomposing himself.

The Truth was much more mundane. Oh he had been travelling along the highway and then along toward Skyhold. But, no one wanted to be near a Magistrate when he was in his full armour, so he was more or less left alone the entire trip.

"I am grateful for your assistance."

Irving Braxiatel | Doctor Who EU

[needsmust]

{III}

[Strictly speaking, Brax is not unused to travel. Nor, for that matter, needing to cross a not insignificant amount terrain in search of any of number of things. He is, however, not entirely prepared to deal with the wide varieties of wildlife that can be found across Thedas. Partially because he's never entirely gotten in the habit of needing to protect himself... and bears aren't precisely susceptible to the sorts of hypnotism that he'd usually turn to.]

Wonderful.

[This is offered in a sigh, and mostly to himself, while he considers the merits and embarrassments of simply turning and fleeing.]

This is the last thing I needed today.

{IV}

[Brax is no stranger to crystals that have some variety of power or another, Gallifreyan society being what it is. True, the ones he knows best aren't anything to do with communication - and certainly aren't implied to be magical besides - but as long as he overlooks that it's not so hard to consider it to be a slightly unorthodox version of the communication devices that he is familiar with.

Albeit one that might be more easily lost, or stolen, but just at the moment he's not too worried about that.

The voice that addresses the crystals is warm. Friendly, even, if perfectly polite. The sort of voice one might find on a well-meaning professor or the more affable sort of politician; the voice of someone who is very much used to speaking publicly.]

Well, I certainly can't say that I expected any of this. But - and correct me if I'm wrong - I'd imagine that's not an uncommon sentiment? After all, it's hardly every day someone finds themselves quite unexpectedly translocated.

Calpernia

[tevinterschampion]

I. Floods

[ Ah, the south. Surely, Calpernia thinks as she watches a bear on a log float by, this is what they mean when they talk about its rustic charms.

Such as the rustically charming roof that she was currently stuck on top of. Peeking over the edge, she affirms that the water is still a mere handful of inches under the eaves. How was it that the Hinterlands even possessed this much water? At least she was lucky to manage to get on this roof, before the waters rose. If you wanted to use 'lucky' rather loosely.

She straightens up with a sigh, turning her gaze to the sky. At least it's a nice day, out. She never got much of a chance to just relax and stare at the clouds, before. ]

iv. Crystals

...Bears. Why are there so many bears in these woods? Never have I seen them in such numbers, nor so hostile to people. Surely they can not repopulate so quickly. Is there some kind of bear farm that raises them, and releases them?

[ #thetruthisoutthere #bearfarms #butwhywouldyoufarmbearsandreleasethem ]

v. The Campsite

[ She's used to camping, and it is no hardship for her to bear it. But the looks that she gets, the whispers when her back is turned (and sometimes, even when it isn't)? The coldly polite barrier everyone erects between her and them. It reminds her of those long years in Minrathous, before she discovered her magic. No one quite knew what to make of her strangeness then, and avoided her whenever possible.

But she can't diffuse this situation with a magical awakening. The suspicion has been wrought with her own hand, and thus must be fixed likewise. So she works around the camp, helping put up tents, carrying wood. And starting fires, of course, for those come to her as easily as a flick of the hand. Once camp is settled, she sits in front of the blazing campfire, by herself. She will not hide in her tent, like a shamed woman. She has no shame in herself, in the goals she aspired to, in what she did to reach them. Let them see that for themselves. ]