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

II

[raas]

"Figure we'd just look down your greaves for that one."

And there's no way, no way in this world or any other that Tovi's getting paid enough for that. Still, he grins over. Too many stiffs in this grand shebang. Oghren's a welcome break.

As is the axe. He intends to stand far behind it if any action gets started. Tovi's here because he's good with navigating, and because someone's made the not-so-subtle suggestion that he get his ass out of the inn before it's handed back to him. People are so touchy.

"The fuck'd you get this map from, anyway? Looks like it was written by a drunk twelve-year old."

[wardeneructate]

"Unless you're somehow a woman under those clothes you're not looking under any of this. That's for the ladies."

He laughed a bit to himself then let out one of the loudest belches known to mankind. Even he was impressed with it, a little distracted from answering the question.

"Huh? Oh heh. Well part of that's true. Got him so piss faced that he couldn't stand up. 's what he gets for challenging ol' Oghren to a drinking contest!" He laughed loudly then jabbed his thumb in the direction of the map. "Maybe you should get yourself good and drunk. Then you'll read it better!"

Logic. Right?

[raas]

"Nah, man. Shit's terrible for your health." Tovi turns it upside-down, squints between paper, path, path, paper. "Think it says we're going in that,"

He points a pinky at the burnt-out farmhouse cresting a far hill. Lightning flashes dramatically behind it. The wind picks up slightly. Vaguely ominous music dances through the back of his mind. These are all absolutely, positively good omens for what lies ahead, but you'll have to forgive him if he's having second thoughts.

And third. Maybe fourth. Smells like something died out here — but that may just be Oghren's impressive diaphragm at work.

"Then we've got to dig."

[wardeneructate]

"Can't remember what's terrible for your health if you're drunk," he pointed out with a chuckle that said he used alcohol for...a lot of stuff really. He was a drunk so any reason to have more was really good enough for him.

"Dig? That some comment on me being a Dwarf? I was warrior caste, you know. I didn't do any of the digging."

He gave him a look that just dared him to say that was what he really meant. Because if he had then he was quite tall enough to take out those knee caps, yes he was.

Jumping to conclusions achievement obtained.

[raas]

Tovias likes his kneecaps. They're both very dear old friends.

"Fine, fine." A dismissive gesture with the map. "We both go up in that deathtrap, and then I'll dig."

"You can warrior caste the exits so we ain't murdered by whatever's been living in this shitheap."

Ghosts? Bandits? Ghost bandits? Rabid, Ferelden hick cannibals, who are also bandits and ghosts? At any rate, it's Oghren's problem.

[wardeneructate]

"Now you're talking my language."

Pulling his axe off his back, he gave it a good heft then chuckled a bit. It was like he was sharing a moment with a good friend rather than a dangerous hunk of metal.

"Don't let those flimsy arms of your slow you down though. Been starting to think a nug could snap those things."