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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

[dalishious]

Merrick is cold and tired, and the offer of free booze is more than enough to sway him.

"Fine," he grumbles, and moves toward the bar again. Metaari's size gives them a wide berth, which he is grateful for. At least he isn't squished this time.

[metaari]

Metaari even shifts a bit, standing for a moment to shift his stool away from the bar just a touch to put Merrick between it and him. He grins a bit at the back of the elf's head before he lifts a hand to wave the bartender down. "Another one of mine, and whatever he was drinking."

He sets the hand back down on the bar before looking down, the grin from before fading into a faint, fond smile. "How've you been?"

[dalishious]

This is mad, Merrick thinks. When they'd last met, when they'd-- That had been a forest somewhere in the Free Marches. Now they're here at the same tavern at the same time and Merrick doesn't want to smile about it, won't.

He takes his shot and it's gone quickly, and he feels a pleasant warmth finally begin to spread through his body. He turns then to face the Vashoth at last, arms crossed over his chest.

"Busy," he replies. That's all he seems to want to give for now.

[metaari]

"Sounds about right." Metaari lifts his own mug when it arrives and takes a long drink from it, nearly draining it completely before he sets it back down again. "Who isn't busy these days? The snow settling it makes it even worse."

He drums his fingers against the bar top in thought, a faint hum leaving him. "Bit far from the forest, aren't you?"

[dalishious]

It's the alcohol, damn it. That's why his cheeks feel so hot.

"So are you," he points out. He leans back against the bar, though he's not quite relaxed. His shoulders are still rigid and tense, as if he's prepared to bolt at any second.

[metaari]

That makes Metaari laugh, a bright, short bark of a sound that rings out across the bar. "Ah, but mercenaries go where the work is. And there's plenty of work to be done around here." He pauses for a second, rubbing the back of his neck. "If one can get through the snow to find anyone thawed enough to give some, anyhow."

Metaari shrugs, dropping his hand back down again with a grin. "So what's your excuse?"

[dalishious]

Mercenaries. Work that needs to be done. Metaari sounds like a perfect fit for the Inquisition, but-- No. Nope, he isn't going there. That's not an option.

He needs more alcohol.

"Another," he asks the barkeep. If Metaari's paying, he's going to have as many as he wants.

"I was bored of the forest," he says truthfully. "I wanted to see the world." He drinks his whiskey down, then adds, "So I left my clan."

[metaari]

A low hum rumbles out of Metaari's chest at that and he nods a touch in understanding. "Bit poetic, that, but I get it. There are some amazing things to be seen out there, if you but look for them. Finding the little lost treasures--and I don't mean ones in chests, either." There's a small, wistful smile on his face as he finishes off his mug. "If you haven't seen the stars in the desert yet, I highly recommend it."

[dalishious]

Stars in the desert. Like he has time to stargaze. It's stupid.

He's definitely drunk now, and it's just like last time, really. Metaari shows up out of nowhere and Merrick shirks his duties, completely forgets about where he is and what he's doing. Twice now. It's shameful.

"So what 'little treasures' have you found in this shithole?" he asks, teasing in that deadpan tone of his. Making fun of a guy who can honestly go to the desert, lie around and watch the stars. As if the world isn't falling apart around them.

Stupid.

[metaari]

Plenty of time to stargaze. It takes about five seconds to look up and go "oh, pretty" before moving on. Come on, now.

Metaari makes a show of thinking on the question, as though trying to remember everything that he's seen and done. He finally taps his chin before lifting his finger as though he has an idea, and he turns his grin on Merrick. "Well, there's this one I can think of right off the bat. I'd found it some time ago, but lost its location. But wouldn't you know it, I just happened to stumble across it again a few scant minutes ago."

[dalishious]

It's the principle of the thing. Not like that could get through Metaari's thick skull.

Maybe he's a little stupid too, though, because he doesn't quite put together what Metaari is saying right away. Then he's blushing more, and rolling his eyes, and thwapping Metaari on the shoulder.

"You are so full of shit."

[metaari]

He can't help but laugh again, because even in the dim lighting of the tavern he can still see the tint to Merrick's cheeks, and it absolutely delights him to know that he can get a reaction like that. He'll just casually ignore that alcohol might be helping it along. The fact of the matter is Merrick is blushing and Metaari is the primary cause.

His head cants to the side and he gives a helpless little shrug. "Laid it on a little thick, did I? Still, it wasn't really a lie."

[dalishious]

"I almost stabbed you," Merrick quips back, arms still crossed, stubborn for the sake of it.

[metaari]

That just earns a shrug. "It wouldn't be the first time. I think it might just be how you say hello."

After a moment's pause Metaari leans down a little, dropping his voice to a barely audible murmur. "And as I recall, I do believe it was you who wound up being stabbed."

[dalishious]

Though the comment makes Merrick shudder and sends all the alcohol rushing to his head, makes his knees wobble just a little, causes memories he'd been so intent on forgetting to rush through his mind--

He still kicks Metaari in the shin as hard as he can.

[metaari]

Metaari winces, sucks in a breath, and leans down to rub at his aching and likely bruising as they speak shin. He sits back up after a moment and lets out a faint laugh as he lifts his hands in the air in front of him in a placating gesture. "I deserved that."

He opens his mouth again to say something more before snapping it shut, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Merrick was undoubtedly drunk, flushed and wobbly as he was, and as much as Metaari wanted to... "Are you staying anywhere nearby? You look like you may need a little assistance getting back."

[dalishious]

Fuck. He has an assignment, doesn't he? It's getting late, and he hasn't made camp yet. Since when has he been so fucking sloppy?

When he'd abandoned his guard route to go off to the middle of the forest with a complete stranger, that's when.

He presses his palm to his face, utterly ashamed of himself. "I should get back to the outskirts and make camp," he mutters.

[metaari]

Metaari looks at Merrick in silence for a moment before he lets out a breath. "You're hardly in any condition to head out into the snow and set up camp." A pause. "I've a room with an old woman in the town, compensation for a few tasks I performed for her. You're welcome to stay the night."

Another moment before he lifts his hands again. "Just to sleep, I swear it. You can head off again when you've rested. There's a warm hearth and a feather bed."

[dalishious]

Both of those things sound incredible right now, and while Merrick is prideful, he isn't stupid.

"Fine," he relents. "But I'm leaving first thing tomorrow morning."

[metaari]

"Of course you are." Metaari smiles a little before he starts digging around in the pouch at his waist in order to pull out some coins. He tosses them onto the bar before pushing himself up to his feet, stretching his arms up over his head.

"Shall we?"

[dalishious]

It's much colder outside than before. Merrick walks light and sure-footed through the snow, eyes and ears alert for any threats, and he doesn't realize that he hadn't counted Metaari as a potential one until they reach the house.

As Metaari walks ahead Merrick thinks he could easily leap into the qunari's back, slit his throat if he needs to. He has the size advantage, sure, but Merrick is quick and deadly-- He could easily stick him with a poisoned dagger, hit him in the eyes with knockout powder, slip away...

The thoughts tangle together, muddled. It sounds half-hearted even in his head.