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[faderifting]

'Tis The Season...

...To Still Be In The Hinterlands

Maybe the Inquisition sent you, maybe you came seeking the Inquisition. Maybe you fell out of a rift into this world last week and are still just trying to find your feet. However it happened, early fall finds you in the Hinterlands. Tucked between Ferelden's massive Lake Calenhad and the icy Frostback Mountains, the Hinterlands are a hilly region covered in patchy forests and small farms trying to eke out a living between the boulders. Though somewhat remote, the area is rich with game and minerals and home to Redcliffe, a bustling town on a busy trade route.

Lately the Hinterlands have also been full of mages and templars and rifts, all threatening to turn once-peaceful countryside into a dangerous warzone. The Inquisition has set up several camps and sent personnel to try to restore order to the region, unwilling to let it slip into chaos. There's a lot to be done, some of it straightforward killing bad things, some of it weird and nebulous morale-building.

NOW WITH ADDED SNOW.

1. I CAN'T BEAR THE COLD

You have turned the wrong corner in the snow, forded the wrong stream in the snow, crested the wrong hill in the snow, entered the wrong cave in the snow. Maybe you are far from camp, in the snow. Maybe you are in camp, which is also snowy. Whatever has happened, wherever you are: you are being chased through the snow by bears. Did you throw a snowball at the bears? Are they huge and snow-dusted? Babies burrowing through the snow drifts and coming for your ankles? Fade-touched in addition to snow-touched? Controlled by cold mages who are hiding in the snow? Popping up out of the snow like a game of whack-a-mole? What are they chasing you away from in all of this snow? What are they chasing you into, other than more snow? What warm things do you plan to make out of their hide if you kill them in the snow? What do you think they'll craft out of your hide if they kill you in the snow? P.S. It's snowy.

2. GIVE ALL THE TOYS TO THE LITTLE RICH BOYS

Winter came. The villagers are freezing. Recruit Whittle totally saw this coming. Now he might have sent you haring (get it) across the countryside in search of supplies that apostates or bandits may have hidden in caves and crannies. He might have handed you some sticks and told you to build a fire. He might have eyed your nice coat with a contemptful gleam that suggested you'd better find some blankets if you didn't want to have your own clothing requisitioned. Nobody's freezing to death on his watch--except maybe you, if you're really bad at finding hidden caches. In the snow.

3. DON'T SHOOT ME SANTA

The sky is beginning to darken and white snow continues to fall, but you and the supply wagon you're protecting should make it to the little Hinterlands village before sunset. The wagon is laden with food, blankets, and other sundry supplies, and so it's important to stay sharp and alert as you make the trecherous journey. And for good reason: an arrow is fired from the tree line and topples an Inquisition soldier from his horse. Beset by bandits, will you manage to fight them back? Or do they overwhelm your troupe and you are forced to flee? Or, perhaps, you could attempt a negotiation, knowing they could be as hungry as the people you protect.

4. DOES THEDAS HAVE FIGGY PUDDING?

It is not only snowing, it's blizzarding, and the tavern in Redcliffe is the closest and warmest place to duck into to wait it out. Unfortunately, half of the Hinterlands had the same idea. The Gull & Lantern is so packed with thawing visitors that it's hard to walk from one side to the other, the owner has given up on telling these Fereldens they can't bring their dogs inside, and that lady in the corner is almost definitely someone you've tried to kill before, or vice versa. But there's a fire going, and the bartender seems to think that giving everyone half-price drinks might prevent a brawl instead of causing one, and there aren't any demons indoors, so it could be a lot worse.

5. WILDCARD

Hunt game in the snow, kill demons in the snow, dig under the snow for herbs, track bandits through the snow, deal with someone charging extortionist coat prices now that it's snowing, fall off a deceptively tall rock into the snow, 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 in the snow, climb trees or abandoned towers covered in snow, rummage around in empty homes to get out of the snow, run from a dragon in the snow, cry over how cute that fennec fox you just shot in the snow was, set up camp and chat around the fire because it's snowy and cold, knock yourself out (figuratively, or even literally if that's more your speed)-- the Hinterlands are your Frostback Mountain oyster, topped with snow.

Comments

[middle_of_calibrating]

'Competition'. The word quickly has the rest of his smirk disappearing, his eyes narrowing and regarding the red head with a schooled business-like stare. His mug is safety back on the counter and he makes a point to turn enough so that his back isn't facing her.

"I... see..." Kind of. Not really. Garris cannot quite pinpoint exactly who this woman's target is now. "Are you trying to use me as bait?"

[normandys]

She shrugs, angular shoulders and nonchalence, to any onlooker, like any two people having a disagreement. But her words are serious, and low. "I was more interested in helping you get out alive, if you were interested."

[middle_of_calibrating]

That earns her a raised brow. She wanted to help him get out alive? "What's in it for you?" Of course he's cautious at the offer. No one just "helped", there was usually an angle of some sort. Or a trap.

[normandys]

"Is there something better I could be doing with my time and the blizzard going on outside?" Her smile is coy, but it's also genuine; soft. "Other than seeing you survive, none. I've seen enough people turn up dead in a tavern after a storm blows over."

That was true; she'd often been told by the army that she was too much of a do-gooder, too much bent for wanting to do what was right and not roll with the punches that were passed down. She was too serious, not serious enough... she knew people were not so eager to come forward and help, but she did. She'd seen enough war, enough death... enough people not walking away after a night like this.

She's watched the room long enough. She knows the score, that maybe nothing'll happen now, but perhaps later. Even if he says no, she'll keep an eye on things - even if she is looking for a yes.

[middle_of_calibrating]

He taps his index finger on the counter in thought, weighing the woman's words carefully. There was... some truth to what she said. People did tend to disappear in weather like this all the time. That's considering if the merc made a move at all, though judging by the way she was glaring she definitely was considering it. And the last time they had gotten into scrap-

He made it out alive, but not uninjured. Garris would certainly not like a repeat of that.

"Alright, I'll listen. What do you suggest....?" He raises his brows in a silent question, fishing for a name.

[normandys]

"Jane Shepard." There's more than could go with that name, really - a Ser, Commander, rank and file and history, but tonight, she's just Jane Shepard, a civilian who's too well armed to just be another civilian intent on protecting a man from a merc. And she does turn, slightly, to be out of eye contact of the watching merc, to offer him a hand to shake on that name, if he wants to offer his in return.

"There's quite a crowd, and some of them are probably hers. Don't know which, but we'll know if you move... that's one option. The other option is to be more bold, and just walk out of here together. Either she'll take it, or it'll end in a fight."

[middle_of_calibrating]

He looks at the hand for a moment before reaching up and shaking it with his own. Firmly. "Garris Vakrie."

At the mention of not knowing just how many men the merc had, Garris casually started to eye the crowd. Easily five by the uniforms he spotted, but there could be more. "Not exactly good weather to think about going outside, Shepard, and everyone's got their doors locked up tight for the night I'm sure."

Grabbing his drink, easily still half full, Garris throws it back and presses a coin to the counter. He's already paid for it, but you know... just in case there is some trouble. "How 'bout we head on up the stairs? I'm sure all the rooms are taken... but if they plan on coming they'll be bottle-necked."

[normandys]

"Nice to meet you, Garris." There's a smirk, but there's a smile underneath it - if it were only better circumstances, and all that.

"Using the weather is an old but reliable tactic, but you're right about us not getting anywhere else. Or anywhere else that is safe." There could be a few barns out there, but finding them wouldn't be so easy. She hums, thoughtfully, at his suggestion. "Less people, more danger. But it'd be over faster. And there's that advantage of having the higher ground."

[middle_of_calibrating]

"Old and reliable if you know the area," he offers. He would not be against venturing into the blizzard if he knew the town a bit better, but seeing as he did not... he would rather take his chances again a bunch of mercs then freezing to death.

"We still have time. They won't do anything with this many people. If it starts clearing out and the weather eases up... could give them a run for their money."