allthisshitisweird | Test Drive Meme!

Entry tags:

! test drive

Test Drive Meme!

'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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Bathing is always favored, whatever Asher looks like. He's obnoxious enough (usually in a good way, but still) without adding an aroma.]

Yeah, well, I'm a mage not a reaver or whatnot. Just keep that in mind.

[She nods, accepting his condolences especially with the offer of decent drink in their memory. They would appreciate that, and her smile says as much. But she shakes her head.]

I'd love that, but no, I'm not going to Gwaren. If anything, I'm going back to Skyhold for my next assignment. The rest of the Valo-Kas trust me to call on them if they're needed, but I want to be here personally to see this through. Those we lost deserve no less.

Would I be some sort of sacred figure, being a reaver? Your people are big on dragons, I could practically be called the blood of the dragon [Asher hath lost his chill, he know not where] so would I be the one in charge of the fighting then?

[Please let him have his fantasy of that life okay.

Holding a laugh, he offers a smile as Bronson finally gets up to lean against Asher's legs, trusting that he won't fall over thanks to the sudden weight pressed against his knees.]

We're, uh, we're headed that way. Figured we'd do some fighting, get paid, win some glory and plan for the future - won't be young forever, will I? [Won't even be alive for much longer is often a threat too, one that he laughs at the way he laughs at everything but there we are.] You can show us the way, we've got a whole wagon of supplies from the parents, don't know how one wagon will help that's like a drop of piss in the sea but you try arguing with my mother when she's armed with a ladle, you know she's got Avvar blood when she smacks you.

Sure, Asher, lead all the battles you want against dragons. I'll buy the maraas-lok for the victory party. You can't be proper leader without drowning yourself in it afterward.

[Partly humoring him, but having Asher alongside her against a dragon is a tempting image. Korrin knows better than to face such creatures head-on without the proper numbers, but with? Damn right, she'd be there.

Upon hearing his plans, she nods in firm approval.]

Hey, we lost almost everything when Haven was destroyed and our list of allies still isn't very long. Every bit helps, more than you know. Your mother's aid is welcome, though I hope for her and our sake that she isn't related to anyone in the mire. The Avvar there weren't exactly glad to see us.

Fucking glorious.

[He was in Kirkwall, he heard all about Tamassrans but he's always been smart enough never not to joke about that sort of thing in front of Korrin when he's not sure on what her parents ever did before they left the Qun. Because if someone made such claims of his mother, he'd need to kill them after he stopped laughing and a) he likes living and b) him and Korrin up against one another would be messy and terrible.]

Let me guess, the Chantry suddenly can't find charity for folk but they still wear their embroidered gowns and drink good wine on feast days. [He can vouch for the wine, he's intercepted some bound for a Chantry or two before.] Don't say that, she'll know and next time I go home to see my nephews and nieces she'll give me a smug smile and smack me round the back of the head. Funny how I got turfed out for violence but she can lay hands on me all she likes when I'm a man grown. [Also never point that out to a mother, then the dad weighs in and well, Stafford Hardie is the sort of person Asher has the sense not to cross now he's grown up a bit.] Avvar aren't happy to see anyone, not unless you do a lot of shouting and chest pounding, it's like us mercenaries, most of it's talk and even when it gets bloody it's for the sake of your reputation and what's yours. Which is again why we're headed up there.

[Nasir might already have made it if he's not complaining about the cold though he did agree to meet them so they could travel up together meaning that he'll have had two trips to lodge a full list of complaints Asher will have to listen to as he tries to get a druffalo to behave.]

Hey, I won't complain. Though between us, the Chargers and some other folk I know, it's going to be pretty damn noisy and full of that chest-pounding and showing off.

There are a few good exceptions to the clergy and they've stayed with us, but the rest think us heretics. Nevermind that their own Divine authorized this before she died, but they can't let any actual facts get in the way, you know. People won't forget that inaction and the Chantry will be the weaker for it, but it's hard to be sympathetic when they've brought it upon themselves.

[She shrugs dismissively, still considering herself vaguely Andrastian, but her views on the Maker and Andraste, and then the Chantry itself are very different things.]

I've been to Avvar holds in the past, actually. Not recently, but I remember some being far more hospitable than what we just found in the mire. I think they were partly glad to see people they didn't have to crane their necks to look at, an issue I know all too well. If we get the chance, and meet another group willing to worth with us, I bet you'll fit right in. Maybe Bronson can be their hold-beast, eh, boy?

[Who's a good mabari?]

And? Everywhere needs some chest-pounding otherwise a tavern might as well be full of corpses.

Of course they think you’re heretics, it’s the Chantry, if you’re not licking their arse then you’re going against them. They’re useless unless they’re prancing around Orlais holding hands with the Empress or walking around asking for tithes only they conveniently don’t look down to see who they’re stepping over. Andraste would be ashamed of the lot of them, she should take up that sword of hers and give it a few good swings.

[Asher is more Avvar, much to his mother’s disgust, not that he really does much beyond ask for strength but he likes that sort of belief, things he can see and smell and touch, things that are actually useful to his life and not a song droning on forever and forever. ]

You’re hardly likely to be mistaken for a lowlander and they’ll even trade with Orlesians, depending on how it goes and what you’ve got, it’d be nice to go off on what mother thinks is a jaunt only to scandalise her. It makes her act like an Avvar and she hates it. [Leaning down, he carefully takes Bronson by the face which means he gets his face licked in return, such is the price of being worthy.] Reckon he’d make a pretty majestic hold-beast.

Damn right, he would.

[Korrin grins, always encouraging Bronson.] Maybe I'll have to drag you along with me whenever I get assigned to a hold for whatever reason. Though if you beat me to it, you'd better do the same. There's nothing like their climbing contests or battle arena. Not quite the same as the Grand Tourney, but I like it, it's more raw and gets the blood pumping. And hey, scandalizing relatives is as good a reason as any to join in, I've heard.

[Not like she would know personally, since her parents never stopped her from doing anything.]

I know you've got some inches and horns on me but I doubt you could drag me anywhere unless you froze me solid and tied me to a bronto. [And don't do that or he will come down on you like Korth.] Some of my favourite scars have come from the arena but I'd need to brush up on the climbing, it's been too long since I was anywhere I could do that, all those jobs in the Free Marches, then we went up to Nevarra and Nevarra's just plain weird, pretty sure half the people there are shagging the corpses or thinking about how much they want to.

[He shudders, actually shudders and shakes his head.]

Grand Tourney, it's all a fix, half the time the jousting is just two men galloping angrily at one another and passing, is that the true passion of the Marches?

It seems to be, since during that season it's all I ever hear about. You'd think nothing else happens. Hell, even one of Ferelden's arls is there constantly or so I've heard. But I haven't been in a while, not consistently since the war started.

[The Mage-Templar War, not the Breach and what came after. She may not have been directly involved but that doesn't mean it didn't affect her at all.]

And hey, Nevarrans aren't that bad. Not that I care about the Necromancy part either, but one of my best friends from forever ago is a Nevarran Grey Warden. I'll have to warn her about you and your mouth back in Skyhold. [Korrin may not be known for her tact, but Asher is even worse at times.] And go ahead and tell Seeker Cassandra all about her people, but only if you alert me so I can get a good view.

Not enough people die in it so the same useless lot come back year after year, it's never any fun. I think the best one was the year after that Qunari invasion in Kirkwall? We were finding a new place to hang our hats so we watched and picked up some work but it's not as good as it was. We need a few more like Reeve Asa, y'know?

[Maybe the Qunari invasion is close to the bone given it means Kirkwall and the spark that lit the flame of the conflict engulfing the world but the Free Marches have always been odd and wild.]

No no no, you need to ask her if they really do get up to anything with the corpses, there's gold and silver riding on that one and if it's a Grey Warden then she'll definitely know. [Maybe he's joking, maybe he's not, he's acted bigger and louder than he is since his parents turfed him out and he had to make his own way in the world. Besides, where some listen and blend into the shadows to find out more about a person, he's done it by provoking them, letting them make a few slips that tell him enough to know how to deal with them in the future.] I'm not going near a Seeker, they're buttoned up tighter than the Templars.

[Korrin snickers at that, though actually shakes her head.]

Maybe that's true overall and I'm not saying she isn't tightly-wound, but the Templars are the ones that tend to be high-strung around Skyhold. All those mages and especially apostates running free, and no authority to imprison them. What a harsh life, you know.

[She flips off an imaginary Templar.]

And like hell I'm asking her...though maybe Varric would. He's on her bad side already, it can't get any worse between them. Maybe I could make it a Wicked Grace bet, if both of us are drunk enough.

We didn't have a proper regular guard presence where I grew up so it was the Templars who used to drag me home when I got into trouble. But some mages...I mean you've met some, we all have. Born apostates are fine, the ones that get out of the Circles get too feisty and they're the first ones who think blood magic and demons are a good idea even though they're the ones taught that they're really not.

[After all, Amalia has a temper on her but she just likes primal magic to terrify people with and to be almost as much of a heavy-hitter as Asher himself. But she doesn't even deal with spirits at all, almost repulsed by them.]

Wait Varric Tethras? The Varric Tethras? Shit.

[Don't look at his fanboy boner okay that's not cool.]

[She can't help but smirk at Asher's reaction to her name-dropping, letting that other topic go for a minute.]

Yes, the Varric. He's a pretty nice guy in person, has some outrageous stories if you catch him at the tavern. I don't know if any are true, but who cares. They're still entertainment.

I used to see him sometimes in Kirkwall but I think our ex-Carta brothers know him better, maybe Liadan even though she was Coterie. Or 'know of' him, better than me at any rate. Honestly I liked Swords and Shields best though, sometimes a man gets lonely when you get snowed into a cave and no one wants to help you try to dig a path.

[Setting fire to it so you can wait for it to freeze into ice for sliding doesn't count but like hell he'd say that to a mage when she happens to be his healer and the woman capable of roasting his beard and face clean off.]

[Korrin snorts at mention of Swords and Shields, rolling her eyes.]

That's the romance serial, isn't it? No, thanks. I'd much rather read Hard in Hightown or his story about Hawke...or whatever he comes up with for the Inquisition. Maybe he'll mention this man who likes to wrestle bears and has no indoor voice.

Blah blah blah Donnen your rippling biceps and well, it's weird reading about someone real like that, if that's the sort of thing I want I can go pick up a history book. S'pose that's what that'll be in the next age and people will wonder about the merits of gravy in battle. [With a laugh that has Bronson up and barking, he shakes his head.] No, I don't need anyone writing about me, don't you know that's for lowlanders? I want my story to be spoken so it gets more outlandish with every telling, like that one they tell about you summoning demons that was doing the rounds in more than a few taverns I stopped at with the crew.

[She arches an eyebrow at Asher, because--]

Since when do history books talk about rippling biceps? I must have been reading the wrong ones.

[She leans over to pet Bronson again, such a good boy. That story about her summoning demons provokes a snicker as she straightens up, remembering that fondly.]

You always were an attention whore, Asher. Some things will never change. Not that I have room to judge; that demon summoning story gets better every time.

They will when it comes to me.

[Just casually flexing, look at that, look at those twenty-four inch pythons, you're not even ready for these, his fitspiration is clearly the Arishok.

Bronson goes to her willingly, pushing his face up so she can scratch under his chin or behind his ears, careful given his one blind eye.]

That’s racist, you of all people. I’m sorry my grandfather’s side of the family live in a way that being big and boisterous is encouraged. But does your Inquisition know that story? I mean it has to get you some looks with the Templars around. A free Vashoth mage that's never known any sort of chain, taller than every single one of them?

[Rolling her eyes at that flexing, Korrin scratches Bronson just how he likes it, mindful of the eye.]

Your grandfather's side would get along well with my parents, you know. They're also big, boisterous, no indoor voices, prone to outrageous stunts.

[If qunari-human interbreeding were a thing, she'd have to wonder if Asher had any of her race's blood. Maybe that's why Avvar are so huge. Mention of Templars gets a smug smirk from her.]

Oh, the Templars just hate me. Even without that story, I get the stink-eye all the time from them. But that's a badge of pride, you know. If I got approval from them, then I'd know I was doing something wrong?

Too bad they've moved on most likely. Or he might be dead. The Avvar live harder lives than us and when proving yourself involves fighting and climbing then there's every chance you end up dead. I might not have been around if one of them had found a bear in that cave and not each other.

[Though by all accounts, he pretty much looked and acted like a bear in all that fur but he's not quite sure if his grandmother meant the furs of his armour or if he was an exceptionally hairy man. Likely both because his grandmother was just that sort of lady.]

None of them try anything though? I mean I know what you'd do if it were normal circumstances but I'm guessing we have to pretend we're five and that we're all going off holding hands to pick daisies or some shite.

[Korrin just rolls her eyes at such a scenario.]

More like they have their corner and we have ours. It didn't help that after the Herald's funeral, some asshole Templar blamed us mages for her dying, just like they scapegoated us about Divine Justinia. It grew into a brawl that I missed only because I was busy checking up on someone. Otherwise, I'd have done you proud.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Test Drive Meme!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject