TEST DRIVE MEME!

[faderifting]

What if there is no tomorrow?

Only more 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, the first days of the new year find 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.

STILL WITH ADDED SNOW AND NOW ALSO ADDED KINDNESS TO ANIMALS (MOSTLY).

1. IF I GET SCARED, YOU'RE ALWAYS AROUND

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 still snowy.

2. THEY SAY WE'RE YOUNG AND WE DON'T KNOW

The Inquisition has, possibly, been a little too good at dealing with the Hinterlands' bear problem, and a group of concerned citizens--including young burgeoning naturalists, farmers concerned about the effect an unchecked population of rams may have on their crops come spring, and at least one woman who claims to be directly descended from bears--has taken issue. Maybe they're blocking your character's attempt to enter a bear-infested area. Maybe they've doused your character in bear blood. Maybe the bears they have been working so hard to save have cornered them in the wilderness and they're changing their tunes.

3. WITH YOU I CAN'T GO WRONG

The Inquisition's (cough Leliana's) habit of communicating by raven works out fine, usually, but this particular raven has gone a little rogue. It's not the raven's fault! She's young, she's trying. But she has very important information tied to her leg, and instead of delivering it, she's joined a flock of identical wild ravens to hunt for food in the snow. Recover her, somehow, without hurting her and making any spymistresses angry.

4. BEFORE IT'S EARNED, OUR MONEY'S ALL BEEN SPENT

The tavern at Redcliffe remains as busy as ever, filled with locals, travelers, and Inquisition members. But this month in addition to the usual free-flowing ale and rowdy conversation there is also a contest going on. Bakers have come from across the Hinterlands bearing their very best in an effort to win a coveted ribbon and the title of Best Cake. They pack the tavern and spill out into the surrounding courtyard when the weather allows, cakes sold off tables, out of packs, small chunks given away to whoever is passing and not paying enough attention to refuse. The votes are carefully guarded by several serious looking fellows in the back corner of the tavern. In addition to traffic issues, the cake madness has also caused an infestation of large local rodents, who have appeared out of their holes to devour the many crumbs. Legend has it that if they can be humanely eradicated from the tavern before the final vote is cast, spring will come early. No one in living memory has succeeded, but you are strongly encouraged to try anyway.

5. AIN'T NO HILL OR MOUNTAIN WE CAN'T CLIMB

Hunt game so you can rescue it before other hunters get there, kill demons or maybe just try to hug it out?, dig under the snow for herbs or plant some of your own to replace what others have taken, track bandits through the snow and see if they need a hand, deal with someone charging extortionist coat prices now that it's snowing and convince them to do the right thing, fall off a deceptively tall rock into the snow and admit it was your own fault, 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 so that you can give it a decent burial, climb trees or abandoned towers covered in snow and be careful not to knock them down, rummage around in empty homes to get out of the snow but leave a nice apology note, run from a dragon in the snow and promise not to trespass on its territory again, definitely don't kill any fennec foxes, set up camp and chat around the fire about your feelings because it's snowy and cold, give yourself a pat on the back (figuratively, or even literally if that's more your speed)-- the Hinterlands are your playground.

Comments

[lonewarden]

It's been a while since he had anything to do with mages, but at this point he really doesn't care. Blackwall is just glad to have help. Capable help. Incapable help isn't help.

He is still really tired of bears. He's been at this almost all day. Plus those boys he'd "conscripted" to fight the idiot bandits. It's been a day of fighting and it's not even half over. Maker's breath, what he wouldn't do for a little peace and quiet.

When his helper asks her question, he nods, straightening up. No use looking like he's been through hell even if he has. "Thanks for your help. Been at this all day. You'd think the Maker would've given these beasts some sort of brain in their heads." But no, no such luck. "Anything you need while we're here?" He totally owes her and he'd like to get that debt out of the way.

[lonewarden]

Oh sure, laugh. Everyone should. It's not like he doesn't deserve it a thousand times over. "Already got hair on my chest, thanks," he shoots back, but that might be a small smirk forming. "How about two and maybe I'll forget that bear-blood lager exists and these people are trying to fight bear-killers by throwing bear blood on them."

Maker's breath, what has his life turned into. He did not sign up for this shit.

[lonewarden]

This day has definitely earned a couple of drinks. No, seriously. After being chased by bears all through the Hinterlands and having bear blood thrown on him by those stupid bear lovers -- maybe the bears'll eat them and save everyone some trouble -- he really, really needs it. After this last drink, he's going to head out, run back to that little shanty by the lake and hole up there until everyone just goes awa-

The voice brings his head around, mildly wary at first. And then he sees what she's wearing, the specific style and everything that immediately tells him what she is.

His first thought is that this is definitely an oh shit moment. Thank the Maker he can, sort of, keep his thoughts off his face. Maybe he can play this Game well enough to escape in about five minutes and avoid anything that might out him.

For now, he just nods his head at one of the empty chairs. "Of course." Because why not? The Maker sure does hate him today. "Who's asking?"

[middle_of_calibrating]

"Yes, I have." He's looking right at her, expression serious. For a moment at least before closes his eyes and gives a bit of a shrug of his shoulders, a bit of a grin on his face. "And they can be plenty scary as well."

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin doesn't see it that way, having done her part to fight those rift-addled bears as often as possible. They're a menace and need to be taken down, whatever certain locals might say. Reminded of them, she sighs.

"I don't suppose you could use your Warden influence to tell idiots to stop being idiots? Those bear protesters need to let the Inquisition do its damned job around here, not make things even more difficult. They haven't gotten close enough to me to dump that bear blood and I doubt they will, but I've seen that aftermath too many times already. This nonsense has gone far enough."

If getting them to stop could be done through glares and looming, Korrin would have kept at it. But it's only a temporary solution, and only for her. That's not good enough when it comes to those who don't have the benefit of height and horns to intimidate.

[lifeofendurance]

[It's remarkable how bad the stuff smells. With good hope the stranger can get it out of his armor soon, before the stench and the stains become a permanent fixture to the leather fittings.]

As do I.

[Where did these yokels get the blood and why?]

I'm still unclear what purpose killing a bear for its blood serves in protecting them.

[Unless it's a precursor to some new blood magic ritual, in which case? That gives Aleron something new to hold him here and investigate. Shit.]

w e l l

[chainlightning]

Or not the positive things, at least, [ Merrill agrees with a slight nod. People always seemed more than willing to criticize. Maybe it was easier for them, but that didn't mean it should have been. ]

Werewolves here don't change between shapes, as far as I know, [ Merrill tells her, absently brushing a bit of dirt off her clothing. ] They look part human, part wolf; not half and half, or anything like that.

But there are mages who can change shape, the way you do; most people will probably think of that, if they see you. Those of us in the Inquisition should be a little more understanding about different worlds, though.

[ Should be. ]

[chainlightning]

"People do like to call things that they don't understand 'magic', don't they?" Though to be fair, in Thedas... it usually is. "Though I've never heard of a Jedi -- or a Wookie or Togruta -- or what they can do, myself."

But then, that's hardly surprising, considering the green on his hand.

[eviscerates]

Well, she has to concede to that. "That is a very good point."

Hell, she got hit on by creepy guys when she was working at Granny's, and when most people knew just whose Granny she was and that she was circling like a shark. Maybe it was just a given. A crappy given, but most givens are kinda like that. This isn't the time for her to get into wearing what she wants and being treated with respect, however, so she's just going to sweep all that aside in favour of tilting her head towards the door and starting to make her way toward it, gently tugging at Emma's wrist.

"Come on, if we're lucky they'll have more options than 'stew.'" So much stew. What she would give for a slice of lasagne right now, honestly. "And in my experience? If they advertise anything along the lines of dwarven ale or beer? It'll knock you on your ass, no matter how many pirates you can drink under a table."

Although that does sound like a story she'll have to ask about.

[lifeofendurance]

Well that is the question of the hour, isn't it? Southern Thedas is a madhouse of factions killing each other, people throwing off their alliances of a thousand years, the Chantry leaderless with a Divine's directive being enforced posthumously. Aleron couldn't say one way or another right now if the Seekers even exist any longer or if they've been dismantled like everything he's known as right and orderly his whole life. He's still reeling from finding out that van Reeves really did order the break of the Nevarran Accord. But he just can't accept that. Not yet.

His answer isn't immediate in coming, a twitch in his jaw being one of the few hints he's actually looking for one to give, that and a distant gaze, which allows him to watch the woman with peripheral vision. Alas, Aleron trusts so very few people and not knowing her or the validity of the Inquisition makes her something of a risk. She hasn't attacked him out of hand, however, so there is that. Rebel mages he's met on the road would, and have done, so clearly she's not one of those. Something's up with her, if she's on a first name basis with Cassandra.

"I've known her for years." Not hard to guess they're of an age cohort by appearance alone. "As for being one of her people, that would depend entirely on if she still considers the Seekers her brethren or not."

It's a calculated risk making that much of an admission but one he's weighed and found acceptable.

[dreamcatcher]

Maybe her experience with taverns is limited, but skeevy men in skeevy bars? Less so. Those existed in every world and every century. That didn't mean Ruby was wrong to worry, though, Emma had a temper even in the best of circumstances. She liked to think she wasn't the same woman that had bounced a man's head off a steering wheel for pointing out the truth, yet with so much darkness pumping through her veins, her temper seemed even stronger than ever.

"I think I'd rather the stew." It'd probably been cooked for hours to the point you couldn't tell what was what, but if it was cooked to death maybe the germs had been cooked to death, too. Still, she followed after Red with a surprising docility. She was still finding her feet with her curse, and she was damn lucky to have someone she knew and trusted to help her, but it didn't hurt to be careful.

The roar of sound was a little overwhelming, and Emma's attention delayed to the place Red had her by the wrist. Doesn't she deserve to know what you are? How dangerous it is to be close to you? Apparently even in a roaring crowd, the little whispers could catch up with her. "Huh?" Emma said intelligently, shaking her head and catching Ruby's eyes. "Okay, sure." Was it at all obvious that she was having a hard time paying attention?

[madame_de_fer]

[Marvel, if you will, for having just moved a tree, without ever touching it, Vivienne's impeccable attire remains entirely unmussed and still neatly in place. She doesn't even need to readjust her sleeves.]

Think nothing of it, my dear. Are you well? Injured in any way?

[Not that Vivienne is any sort of a healer, but she can certainly provide restorative potions and guidance to the nearest herbalist at the very least.]

Rose Quartz ( Steven Universe | Dragon Age AU )

[giant_woman]

The Hinterlands it might interminably be, but there's more than just bears on these hills. There are also flowers. And Qunari-- well, Tal-Vashoth.

One of them, at least. She's tall and broad and strolling along quite as if she weren't at all aware of the common threat of bears, demons, demon-bears, or anything else. Then again, it's hard to be inconspicuous when you're the size of your average Qunari, and Rose is a little larger even than that.

Anyways there's no point in trying for stealth once you've dyed your hair pink, is there?

Still, she's on her way to Skyhold when she encounters-- is that a Rift? A Bear? Or just a future fiend not yet made friendlies. Regardless of your plight, my dear, let's just see about all this Inquisition nonsense, shall we?

[judgemewhole]

She would find the same with the tranquil, although the tranquil could be paid for their work. Norrington had always thought the tranquil paid, and were taken care of by the Templar Order as they were the ones that had created them. Recent events showed him that many Circles did this differently -- but always the Tranquil could make their own coin if they wished.

Another pause, "...they used blood magic, typically the blood of someone else, to use magic to control people's minds. To subject them to the most horrible tortures imaginable. Things of that nature."

[gatheringstorm]

Well. That first name basis mostly applies when talking about Cassandra, thanks to friends more familiar with her and Varric's book. To the Seeker's face, she tries to be more formal as a show of respect. The woman who began the Inquisition more than deserves it.

Upon realizing this individual is a Seeker, Korrin eyes him anew. No wonder the armor doesn't seem to suit him. There's a flicker of caution as there is about anyone unfamiliar connected to the Chantry, but not the full-blown contempt she'd show Templars. Seekers are in their own class, and she's still trying to decide how she feels about them in general.

"She does, as far as I'm aware, not that there are many of said people in Skyhold. I think there might be...one other? But I don't know his name. You'd have to speak with her to get more information, but I'd say it's a fair guess that she would be highly interested in meeting with you. And you are...?"

[bookish_lioness]

... Tranquils would just open up a whole other can of worms that Hermione didn't need to worry about right this second. It was beginning to get to the point where the less she knew about this world, the better off she'd be.

She wrinkled her nose at his description. At least that sounded vaguely familiar, insofar as she could equate it to something she knew from home. "That sounds like the Imperius Curse. It isn't blood magic, but it's one of the three Unforgivable Curses, controlling someone's mind like that. Torture... well, that's something else." She was thinking of physical torture, which was something with which she was only all too familiar.

[judgemewhole]

"So there is fear on both sides -- and that can lead to abuses on both ends. We are trying to change that now ... but it is a slow battle." He sighed quietly, as he looked ahead. "Perhaps if mages were hidden, it would not be such an issue -- but who knows? It might be worse."

Ignorance did not always equal bliss, after all.

[bookish_lioness]

Hermione thought about that for a few moments, silent as she walked. Finally, she brought up, "It doesn't serve anyone to wonder about what things would be like if mages were hidden, since they're not. And attempting to pull off some sort of masquerade now to help them walk around unnoticed would be next to impossible. All you can do - all anyone here can do, that is - is accept the state of things as they are and resolve to improve upon them. Either way, I don't suspect that will be easy unless you have open communication and full cooperation from both sides."

Cracking a tiny smile, she added, "Seeing as how you didn't try to burn me at the stake upon finding out I was a witch, I'd wager that at least a few of you should be able to do that."

[judgemewhole]

He allowed her her silence, because she had given him quite a few things to think about as well. When she spoke again, he found himself un-surprised that her candor was so blunt, and right on the mark. "You are not incorrect -- and we are working on it, I assure you."

One corner of his mouth lifted up, "I believe a few of us can manage not to go on a mage burning spree. This week, at least."

[bookish_lioness]

"Then I suppose, along with making sure the mages don't hurt anyone out of fear or misunderstanding, that's the best we can hope for," Hermione returned. Whether she was pleased with Norrington's attitude or simply because she felt she'd maneuvered this relatively well, it didn't mater; she looked up at Norrington with a genuine smile this time.

"So... how much of this animosity towards mages am I going to have to worry about?"

It's Sorrel!

[writteninblood]

It is a well-known fact that the Dalish do not wear shoes.

This fact is not strictly true; the Dalish do wear shoes. Calluses won't save you from frostbite, after all, and the Dalish are, above all, beholden to certain practical concerns. Sorrel was, of course, not wearing shoes at the moment. First of all, he was a mage, and secondly, his footwraps had worn out somewhere around the fifth mile of this damn bear chasing him.

You see, you have to sit down if you want to re-wrap your feet. And sitting meant that the bear, the patient, menacing, possibly intelligent bear would catch up to him. He reminded himself of this as he stepped on yet another sharp stone in the endless field of small, inconveniently placed, sharp rocks that was the Hinterlands.

"Go the fuck away!" Sorrel muttered at its ever-present lumbering shadow, walking along behind him with all the patience of death itself. He was beginning to think that getting off the ship at Denerim had been a poor decision, seasickness or no, "I am going to die, and be eaten by a bear, before I find any of these damn Inquisition camps. And no one will ever know I was here, or bury me, because I will have become bearshit."

He kept walking. The bear kept following. Such is life.

[eviscerates]

"Come on, where's your spirit of adventure? There's an entire world of food poisoning for us to discover."

Red's eyes widen a little with her faux-enthusiasm, which passes for genuine excitement a little too well. There's something good about this. It's not Storybrooke, and it's no part of Misthaven that she's ever heard of before. It could be a whole new world, but being in this kind of setting... it just feels more like the world that she fits into. Maybe it's just because she has a friend with her, again - she could hardly tell you, if you asked.

The lack of focus isn't lost on her, and Red is watching Emma with her head a little tilted to the side and her smile a lot gentler, as she shuts the door behind them and nods towards a free table, releasing Emma's wrist so they can sit. "Hey. Are you okay?"

It worries her. Even with her and Emma not being so close lately as they were before, she's Red's friend. Not taking an interest, not caring... that's not who Red is. It not who Ruby is, either. And Emma believed in her when no one else would have given her a shot. That's the kind of kindness you don't easily forget.

[lonewarden]

"They haven't listened to me so far," Blackwall grumbles, looking quite annoyed about this fact. If anything, those idiots seemed to want to be more idiotic after he spoke with them. This really is not his day.

"They'll get someone killed before they agree to stop," he continues with a huff. "Might not even then. I'm starting to think they've been fade-touched, rather than the bears."

Really, it would explain a lot.

Though, there's another part of her statement that catches his attention. "Are you part of the Inquisition, then?"

[lonewarden]

[ cleaning his armor will be the first thing he does when he finds a camp. seriously, the smell is already getting to be bad. he can just imagine how terrible it'll be if it's all there permanently. the poor leather.

his poor conscience. this can't be what the real blackwall would have wanted. or gotten himself into. ]

Maybe they think it's some new protection ritual. [ euugh. his mind is going in the same direction. count him right out. ] If we've got blood mages on our hands, things are worse than I thought.

[lifeofendurance]

Agreed.

[Somehow, Aleron manages to refrain from expelling the heavy sigh he really feels compelled to. Like there are not problems enough to attend to without a new variant of blood magic to contend with. His deep-seated sense of duty and responsibility won't allow him to walk away from this now that it's been brought up in front of his face.

And frankly, if a stranger can see the potential blood magic connection, it's a concern that warrants full investigation.]

Maker willing, it's foolishness and nothing more, but I'll look into this.

[With a tone of authority that implies it's his job to do so.]