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

[elegiaque]

Were you in another highly secretive group of idiots?

[magerebel]

Am I to assume that you are not a Grey Warden?

[elegiaque]

Of course I'm not a Grey Warden.

[magerebel]

Now it makes sense. Orlesian nobility or something in the vicinity then?

[elegiaque]

There is nothing in the same vicinity as Orlesian aristocracy.

( that doesn't actually sound like she means it as a compliment. )

[circleprodigy]

...ah, now that makes sense.. [Perking up as she suddenly remembers earlier conversations.] It seems almost a contradiction in terms, intelligent darksapwn, but I have spoken with those who swear to them as a reality. And yet, intelligence doesn't beget benevolence, not with the taint. Why were these artifacts not destroyed? Normally, I would understand the value of research, but....

[magerebel]

I suspect it is an acquired taste, one I've yet to acquire personally.

[magerebel]

I cannot tell you what the Architect was...unique, certainly, dangerous...without question. It was motivated to end all Blights forever...something that it thought should appeal to every Grey Warden. That is what those brooches were for. [It might have been so long ago, but her memories are as vivid as if it had been yesterday.] I cannot say if they have been destroyed or not, it has been a long time since I last inquired about them...but I suppose, if they have been kept for research it might be in an effort to understand how the taint works.

Tavern

[lyriumcarved]

Drinking always ends up being a good idea somehow, at some point of most days. Although Fenris has been back to his habits of holing up somewhere on his own lately, he finds himself actually in a mood to head to the tavern. It's probably a good idea, actually, because this time there's a familiar sight there.

"I hope I don't owe you any money," he says in a tone that's surprisingly easy-going for him, as he takes a seat near Varric. The dwarf is one of their companions who he's genuinely glad to see, though. One of the few. "What brings you back here?"

[whatcouldgowrong]

It would be impossible to announce who he is to everyone without also inviting questions about where he's been all day, and when the answer to that is 'on a log', Varric isn't inclined to talk about it. It'll make for a great story when his boots aren't still waterlogged and his pen still missing.
"Hey Blondie," he grunts, lifting his mug in greeting. "For the most part. What're you doing out here again?"

[whatcouldgowrong]

Ah, good, a well-meaning loud person. This could either be a great thing or a shit thing.
"Much obliged," he calls, "don't happen to have a logging hook on you, do you?" He'd make some crack about the man probably being tall enough to just wade through without getting his shirt wet, but just in case, it's probably best to not get sassy with his one savior.

[whatcouldgowrong]

Varric will never ever get used to that. He starts, and nearly falls off the log when he abruptly has a Cole beside him, but he quickly recovers in favor of not losing his manuscript.
"Hey kid," he replies, "don't worry about it, I wouldn't want you to drown." He pauses. "...if you... can.. drown."

[whatcouldgowrong]

A beautiful woman standing on a roof asking if he wants to join her? Where's the question in that?
"Is it seaworthy?" he asks, eyeing it over, but he lowers his manuscript to tuck it under one arm as he feebly paddles with the other, trying to direct himself. "How'd you get stuck out here? You look capable."

[whatcouldgowrong]

"I hope you don't either," Varric replies with a smirk, lifting his mug in greeting, "I might ask you the same, Broody. Hanging out with a bunch of farmers and Chantry do-gooders doesn't seem much your style."

[killedwithlove]

Additionally, Cole grabs hold of the back of Varric's tunic to help rebalance him.

"I don't know if I can drown. But I wasn't going to go swimming for it. It will wash up and I can find it then." He sits more comfortably, letting his feet trail in the rushing water.

[justice_is_blond]

[His expression goes a little wry at the 'not recently.' No one, thankfully, is recently from a Circle.]

Of course. I meant it as a frame of reference, but it's an outdated one. A new one's in order.

[Which he considers a moment before shrugging.]

You've been around the healing tents for a time and we've not spoken before. Considering you've not shot glares my way, greeting you is a little overdue. I'm Anders.

[Known, yeah, but introductions are a good way to start. He holds out a hand.]

[justice_is_blond]

"I heard there were herds of cats that needed someone to lie down in the middle of them," he says with a flash of a smile. "Or, perhaps more accurately, they keep rotating healers out here since so many of our forces wind up in the Hinterlands for one reason or another. And since the bears love me so very much, I seem constantly stationed out here."

It's delivered wryly as his lifts his mug in return and takes a drink. "Are you coming back to Skyhold, or is the life of a wandering author suiting you more?" A beat, and all amusement fades. "...rather, not Skyhold much longer. Apparently we're moving to more... familiar grounds. I don't know if you've heard."

IV

[justice_is_blond]

I think most information would be satisfying, really, but a little cured meat would go just as far. Where would I find you? And while I head over, I'm not certain I've heard what roll you had in events in 9:10.

[It's the rebel mage leader thing he was previously most interested in, but now he's curious about this.]

[dissono]

( gervais has, in fairness, probably never shot anyone a glare in his life; his face just doesn't do that. it isn't because he's such a soft-heart he's never wanted to, only - what good would it ever have done him? what attention would it have drawn that he needed? too many variables.

too many templars.

so it's to his credit that he doesn't steel himself to clasp anders' wrist in greeting, but there was never any other way for him to react, not really. other mages have adapted, he can see, have lowered their hackles or their guards, have embraced the freedom that is still so tenuously held. he ... is only a few years shy of fifty, now, and he's been alone a long time since the dissolution of the circles. there hasn't been anyone with him for him to react to in some new and interesting way, if he ever -

he doesn't know if he'll ever walk that easily, but the only pause is the one where once upon a time he'd have said enchanter first. )

G-G-G-Gervais Vauquelin.

( something about the cheekbones, the way he holds himself. the resemblance is subtle, the less one knows any of the vauquelins, but present. )

IV

[magerebel]

It is not my usual haunt, but I am in the Herald's Rest, it seemed appropriate after a long journey. [That, and she could certainly drink with the best of them.] I suppose not every Grey Warden would know...it has been so many years now, but a group of Grey Wardens, myself and Duncan included, went in search of another Grey Warden who'd been captured by Darkspawn in the Deep Roads and held prisoner in Kul-Baras Thaig. He had sensitive information about the location of the Archdemons and it was imperative that we find him.

[halfbetter]

[Oh, it's a Fereldan. He is leery of taking more advice from your kind.]

Then again, it would be just like to natives to use my own prejudice to convince me the bear is harmless. A double cross, hm?

[halfbetter]

[Ah, the sound of civilization.]

I've never had to consider cosmetics in my lightning casting before. Is this a common hunting method in these... untamed parts?

[elegiaque]

I don't know that anyone's tried it from a tree--

( proper civilization, with titles and literacy and everything, judging by the shape of her vowels. )

--perhaps you'll set off a new craze in the bear-murdering business.

[halfbetter]

"It has charms?" Is what Lukas is trying to say, but it comes out as more of a generalized groan. He takes the kind woman's hand, though only marginally relies on it to get back up. He is very status-conscious at the moment. He coughs a little, but makes it to his feet, not quite as much the worse for wear as his appearance suggests.

"Thank you -" he turns to look at Diana, uncertain of the appropriate title, and the mark catches his eye. "Ah, a Rifter, is it? And here our side of the Fade gives you such a poor showing..."

[halfbetter]

[Is it murder if the bears started it? Lukas sounds... disconcerted.] I assure you I have no personal enmity for the wildlife, my lady. It's only that I was told in no uncertain terms that they all do have some for me. And I am vastly outnumbered, here.