allthisshitisweird | TEST DRIVE MEME!

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Ha! I'd like to see you say that to the hornless one I traveled with. Don't think that face knows what fun even is." And now he was appreciating this woman in a new light. Attractive, ready to toss back the real stuff. Yep, woman after his own heart.

He looked into the tankard like a giddy child. "Heh. My insides are niiicely fermented. It's all piss ale in there and then some."

Destroy his insides? Nah, he'd done that ages ago. "Bottoms up!"

Not even waiting, he went to just chug the entire thing down.

"Feh, hornless. They're told they're special, but I think they just say that to make them feel better about not having these."

Gesturing to her horns, Korrin picks up her tankard, though she watches Oghren carefully even as she downs her own. Drinking maraas-lok is one thing, but whether he can keep it down is another. Most people don't even make it halfway before they start gagging, but his enthusiasm is noted and respected.

The tankard was empty when he was done and there was a long moment before he just let out a long belch. This was followed by a laughing cry from him as he led it up. "Takes like the piss of my ancestors! This the best you can do? I've downed worse just to become a Warden!"

And he could say he was one of those that didn't pass out from it and just let out a burp while staying on his feet. He was made of tougher stuff than this booze here. "And I don't know anything about horns or hornless. You all look the same to me. Giants with some muscles on yeh." He gave something of a chuckle as he nodded her way. "Anyone ever gripped those horn of yours as they...you know..."

That gets a surprised laugh from Korrin as she gestures for more. Someone who can hold down qunari hooch without a struggle -let alone losing consciousness- is worth buying another round for, in her book. "A Warden, eh? That explains it. Everyone jokes about Grey Warden stamina and appetites, figures it would be you guys -and the Avvar- being the only other ones to keep up."

Smirking, she chugs down her own share smoothly. Maraas-lok isn't a sipping liquor; if you're drinking it, you're doing so to put as much away as possible, as fast as possible. As she sets it down, that question gets a snicker out of her. "Of course they have, and don't think I haven't advertised them as a selling point. Convenient handles, right? One asshole wanted to break one off as a souvenir, a long time ago. I zapped her ass straight into the wall."

There was a reason he could win drinking contests so easily and make people cry for mercy when up against him. He was far from a slouch when it came to the booze. Which he paused now in drinking because he hadn't expected that whole she part when she'd brought up some asshole wanting to break one off.

She'd need to give him a moment. That stupid grin meant he was having a two girl fantasy in his own head with her as the start. You're welcome Korrin?

That stupid grin prompts a knowing smirk from Korrin, who isn't at all shy about such things. Why should she be? It's not her fault other people have such weird hang-ups. She couldn't care less what the dwarf imagines; he may be a sleeze, but he's an entertaining sleeze. Anyone who can down some maraas-lok with barely any reaction is pretty awesome in her book.

"Yeah, yeah. At least the lady I'm with now likes my horns right where they are."

"Heh. Better than having one that wants your parts for trophies. That's a weird one."

He'd sure heard of a lot of weird fetishes (maybe tried a few) but that one was definitely out there. Oghren remembered his booze and went to train this one since obviously he wasn't about to lose a drinking contest! Well, maybe he'd lose. But given his track record he highly doubted it.

Especially when he tilted to the side for a moment after finishing another round. She'd probably get a whiff of what had happened in a moment there.

"Ahhhh. Had to make room for more." He gave a sort of giggle as he lifted up that tankard for more. This was no lightweight for drinking. He could damn well take it!

"No shit." Korrin nods and raises her tankard, having plenty more stories to go when it comes to weird or inconsiderate lovers, but that's not the point of this gathering. The point is to try and knock him off his ass with enough maraas-lok.

"Keep 'em coming!" Patrons start to gather around...though Oghren's crop-dusting has some of them taking an immediate step back. Korrin leans back away from it and snickers. "Andraste's tits, you should direct that at the enemy. Talk about poison gas attacks."

"Heh. Just cologne for the ladies. Breathe it on in." He even gave a wave of his hand up towards his nose so that way he could inhale it in himself. A good whiff and he was chuckling again. "Yep. That's a good ripe one. Couldn't try to make one that good."

He grinned at the people gathering around, more than ready to show them just how much he could take. Or drink in this case. Because already he was finishing off what he had.

"Stuff doesn't taste so bad once you get it going. Good piss there!"

"That's because the nerves in your throat are usually all dead by the next time you drink it, so it doesn't burn that much. The Qunari who made it know that taste isn't why people drink it, right? It's like a liquid punch to your consciousness until it can't stand anymore. If I drink something for the taste, it's usually that Chasind sack mead or Antivan brandy. Now that's smooth."

But she'll refrain from indulging during a drinking contest, because there's no way a dwarf is going to beat her when it comes to her own people's liquor. "How are you at Wicked Grace?"

"Wicked Grace. That's that surface card game isn't it."

He'd seen it played before. Pretty sure the Warden had played it. Maybe. Sometimes that stuff could be a drunken haze and the game required a lot more thinking than he usually let his brain spend time doing. Mainly because he tended to let his mind wander around to coming up with new dirty jokes and the like instead.

"Why would you want to think so much when you're drinking?"

"Because if you think just enough, you win money for more drinking." That's not the entire reason Korrin plays it, not usually, but she figures that part might appeal. For her part, she's more into the outrageous stories and the chances of making one happen then and there. Cullen's walk of shame is still talked about.

"Heh. Card games are things the fancy dwarves play where I'm from. No way I'm getting involved when I can make whoever passes out first pay the bill." He gave her a grin that said he was really used to winning those drinking contests. Then again with how he was handling this qunari stuff it probably was pretty clear why. "Though if you want something like arm wrestling or guessing what's up skirts then those are some good games."

He chuckled a bit. "'specially up skirts. I can check those."

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