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

[battleswan]

[And this is why she didn't bring up the glowing. No spells being cast. Just an elf getting his hands bloody, killing a beast, being practical about what to do with the carcass. Svanhild approves and it comes in the form of a nod. The axe gets slung over her shoulder, clearly not needed.]

I've a spare knife if you want a hand cleaning it.

[lyriumcarved]

[That's fine by him. Better than fine. Fenris can appreciate someone who seems to know what they're doing. It's odd, though, he can't place her armor or her accent, even. Usually he has a good knack for picking up that sort of thing. She's definitely a rifter. As if the shard weren't enough of a giveaway... but a few natives do have them too.]

I would appreciate that. [Why not? He may not be fond of most strangers, but one offering assistance is fairly ok in his mind. He too is already doing similar, exchanging his sword for a knife as well.] That's a fine axe you have. What is it called?

[battleswan]

This is Wuuthrad, weapon of Ysgramor.

[Now that it's been reforged, Svanhild sees no practical purpose in hanging it in Jorrvaskr as a token trophy. Though she'd have just as soon not dragged it into another world away from the Companions. She pulls it back out, holding the weapon out for inspection and admiration. It's a fine piece and she's yet to smith its equal, though that is a goal to aspire to. There's no mistaking her pride in the weapon itself. She realizes these names will have no meaning to all these strangers, but that matters not; they have meaning to her. More than anyone else in Nirn, she recognizes the power of words, the power of names.]

[lyriumcarved]

[The name may have no meaning, but the way she speaks the words, the way she holds it out, both demonstrate just how strongly she feels about the sword. This is a true warrior, someone who puts her heart and soul into her prowess in battle. Fenris can't help but admire that. Fighting takes skill, something that must be honed and practiced... unlike powers that are just there, or given to someone unwanted.]

[He inspects the axe closely, nodding approval.]

Remarkable craftsmanship. You must have very skilled blacksmiths where you come from.