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

[rowancrowned]

[ his expression does not betray his inner thoughts- he is far, far too old for that, so all sam receives is a knowing little smile and the blandest of replies. ]

Indeed, I was present, though not for the escape. That I learned of only after.

[ very shortly after, when galion had come to inform him and he had realized that all his attempts to keep smaug slumbering had failed. damnable hobbits. though this one certainly seemed more docile. or so he hoped. ]

Bilbo Baggins. I suspect all the young hobbits- hobbitlings?- enjoy his tale very much. I have been told life is very quiet in your Shire.

[rowancrowned]

At first, he held his tongue, watching as the man fled—frightened, but not harmed. The serpents were only illusions. Thranduil drew his conclusions rather quickly. Capricious, enjoys cruelty—possibly not a Man, for all he drew the form about himself. His bearing suggested a wealthy upbringing, his clothes supported that—but if he was a ‘rifter’ as Thranduil was, it pointed instead to an astute mind with ambitions to amass resources quickly.

“I had thought to request you return those from whence they came. They would not survive the snow.” He did turn to address him, give him that much respect—and pulled the hood down from around his face, to bring to light the color of his hair and the delicate tips of his ears. The white fur brushed against his cheeks, and made his hair seem more gold than silver in contrast. “Could you? I have seen no … sorcerer of this world weave craft as tightly as you, which names you outsider to these Men. Yet they have trusted you with their wine?”

[felsendesalters]

Or perhaps Loki just liked to bring the party at the expense of others, practical jokes were up his alley after all. So was cruelty for the greater good, or his greater good...there was a grey line in there somewhere, to be perfectly fair, and absolutely ambition.

He was also reasonably, though not abnormally, tall, and more curious than that...the cold did not seem to bother him, as though it glanced off of him. He wore no furs, no cloaks.

"As they came from me it is a problem...easily remedied." Loki, for his part, stood there, ramrod straight, feet together, arms folded behind his back giving off all of the appearance of perfect posture and yet there was something about the way he stood that was like a caricature of the act.

If it weren't for the pointed ears the man before him would vaguely remind him of the Asgardians of his world as fair as he was dark, Loki was a counterpoint to everything their society valued, but fortunately he was not of Asgard, he was an elf...and one unlike any he'd seen before, "now that would be a cold day in Valhalla, my friend, and I doubt they would know good, robust mead from swill. I have means, however."

Dishonest means, but if these other worlders had no intention of welcoming them with proper hospitality then Loki had no intention of wasting away while he waited.

[lonewarden]

"The rest of Thedas could stand to hear you say that," he responds, his voice soft and warm, as though her own words were a balm upon his soul. Perhaps they were. Perhaps she has helped him in ways she will never know.

He can't afford to let anyone know.

So instead, he just nods to her question. "I'll be there. It would be rude to make a lady wait." That's about as cheeky as he can get right now, so with the smallest of smiles he will just... make sure she can get to where she needs to go before making his way to the little cabin he's taken to. What a day this has been. Now he really has to clean up and make sure he doesn't smell. Redcliffe is one thing. Meeting a lady in Redcliffe is something else entirely.

[lonewarden]

"Blackwall," he answers without hesitation. It's getting easier to come up with that name, better for his cover and his... redemption, he supposes. "Warden Blackwall. If you'll take me with you, I'll be happy to lend you whatever aid I can."

[parkourprince]

Thin lips quirked with barely contained amusement at the dry humour. It was like a game, sometimes, always polite but also sharp and biting, sometimes so straight-faced it made people around wonder about it all. Legolas knew better than to get upset, and he gave as good as he got.

"Is your tongue too delicate for rabbit meat, ada?" Few - if any at all - would know what the term meant, and so the luxury of using it here freely was not something Legolas would give up easily. "I know of a way to prepare it that makes it so tender, that it would put to shame many a ripe fruit."

He fell in Thranduil's step easily, following the paths he took. Their pace easy and mostly leisurely, so he had no trouble keeping up with Thranduil's longer strides.

"Most unwanted guests of the keep abandoned it, I should think, for pastures less dangerous and more fruitful," such as the tavern they had just left behind.

[sunshinethroughgrey]

"Well, if the rest of Thedas is in the tavern, I'll be happy to share." She says with a smile, pleased that her words seem to have had a quieting effect on her Fellow Warden.

She gives him a firm nod, and another dimpled smile, "Absolutely. I'll hold it against your manners if I'm left at a table with no one to drink with." She dips into an curtsy, her eyes bright, before she heads back up the Redcliffe way. Well that certainly had a rather ... positive outcome! Especially when it started with blood being thrown in one's face.

[parkourprince]

Snow crunched beneath hurried steps beneath him, and it drew Legolas's attention, brought a stop to his song. He glanced down, briefly searching with his gaze for the source of the noise. It wasn't a difficult task at all, not with the hobbit heading right in his direction, and once Legolas caught the sight of him, he did have to laugh. The sound carried, joyful among the natural song of the forest: the winter birds and cracking of branches beneath the weight of snow, much like his previous song had.

This? A most delightful surprise! And a concerning one as well, for out of all, Sam should be allowed a peaceful life at home.

Legolas didn't care for stealth anymore, raising to his feet to then - in but a handful of leaps, branch by branch - land on the soft blanket of snow below, revealing himself in full. It had been a while, sure enough, but he would recognise the hobbit even in a hundred or thousand years.

"I do not believe it is bears that drew you out here, Master Hobbit," he grinned, cheeky, his greeting casual, as if they had not just ran into one another in a wholly different world.

[parkourprince]

Legolas saw her long before her eyes found him among the branches, only then did he leap down, branch by branch with effortless elegance, to the blanket of snow below. Another elf, a different one from himself - feeling much, much different than himself -, perhaps native to this world, though he still had to learn much about where he fund himself.

He smiled in response, arching brows to show some confusion at her latter words. A pretty language, yet not on he could understand. "I fear your language is still foreign to my ears," he said with an apology ringing clear in his tone, "With time, I will make effort to learn it, but it has been but mere days..."

Days when he managed to learn very little, though not for any lack of trying, when he barely managed to accept what had happened at all. It was still disconcerting, disturbing even, but he did not let it break his smile.

"These bears, a curious pest, is it not? Very large, very difficult to keep fed well enough to encourage them to breed so much," he glanced to where he knew the bear had its lair, far away, hidden by trees and a couple rocky hills. "Though the townsfolk are most unkind," h sounds as displeased about it as she was, "What they do to stop the hunters, even if the reasons behind it may be sound-- to kill too many would be unwise, as would be letting too many roam freely."

A good balance was important to strike.

[rowancrowned]

“I am yet silvertongued enough to parry most of your quips, my son.” For all that his Silvans favored their meat unseasoned, Thranduil would ever prefer culture and spice. He suspected he would eat now for fuel rather than pleasure—so be it. He had more important matters. Namely, gathered the elves and righting the ills that had been forced on them. He need not worry about luxuries, beyond those that would help underline his position—who he was, what he could do, though his hair and bearing, his natural state as Quendi did much for that, for himself and his son.

As always, having Legolas by his side—at his right hand—comforted him. The idea of being here without him, of not knowing where Legolas was would have put him in a fouler temper. Iluvatar was kind, to give him the comfort of his son—or to give Legolas the comfort of his father.

When they reached the keep, Thranduil held the door for his son, shutting it securely behind them to keep the wind and snow firmly outside. Off came the hood, the gloves—secured in a pocket of the coat—and he held the cloak loosely in his arms. "As for fruit, perhaps I might hope for apples, mean and mealy though they might be.”

[parkourprince]

Each of the skills that Legolas favoured in himself, he learned from the best. The archery from the best bowmen in the realm, and before long he surpassed each and every one of them. His sword fighting and knife work and how to move among the trees, all that from warriors with a great many years of experience, and his wit and humour from his own father. And that last talent, at least, was not something he would - or even could - cease practising.

It helped that it was fun to do too.

"Spiced with that special tree bark that you enjoy so?" With both flavour and fragrance so very heavy it could overpower anything, thus it had to be used sparingly. Though Legolas could admit that it tasted well, and that it went perfectly with meat as well. Whether it was available here at all was one question, the next was how expensive. Legolas knew his father's likes, though, the little things he would enjoy, and so he would try to procure some of them as often as possible. "I will look for raspberries, here if we remain here long enough for the snow to melt, or anywhere we go. They grow best wild, so I may yet be in luck."

He followed suit in stripping off the outer layers, shaking off the snow gathered at what of his hair was exposed to it.

[harthad_uluithiad]

[ He doesn't seem mad, at least, and Sam's shoulders sag in relief. He doesn't want to be the one to give Bilbo away, even this long after it had all happened. ]

Oh yes! Why there's not a child in the Westfarthing what hasn't heard of Mr. Bilbo's adventures with the dwarves. As for quiet, why I wouldn't ever have said so: there's always something going on in Hobbiton, and always those willing to tell you just what it is, and who it's happened to, or because of. But there's nothing that compares to Mr. Bilbo's stories of course; and nothing compared to anything I've seen, from the moment we set foot in the Old Forest!

[harthad_uluithiad]

Of all the Elves Sam might have thought to appear in Thedas, Legolas was among the last; but had he dared hope to see any Elf again, the one standing before him would have been the very first.

His eyes opened wide in disbelief and sudden joy, and he cried out, rushing forward in such haste that he tripped over a hidden tree-root and fell onto his face in the snow. Even this did not delay him long; he scrambled to his feet at once, wiping snow from his eyes.

"Legolas!" he cried, running full-tilt towards the Elf, hands held out towards him. "Legolas!"

[arlathvhen]

She looks a little surprised as he moved like a dancer, jumping from the tree like it was nothing. For a moment, she twists around to see if anyone else was witnessing this. No? She was the only one watching some man who looked like a Creator appear from a tree?

None of the others in the clan were going to believe her.

"I asked if you belonged to the Elvhen of this world. Which--I'm going to take that as a no." While there were city elves who didn't know, it was pretty obvious that it wasn't the case here. "You're from one of the rifts, then? You're from another world." She snorted at his evaluation of the people stopping the hunting of bears. "Ah, well--Welcome to Thedas, I suppose. Balance isn't something we have a great deal of."

She turned to him, and held a fist to her chest, ducking her head to him politely. "Which, I'm afraid you will experience for yourself, for the worse. I am Beleth, of Clan Ashara, currently scout of the Inquisition." The Dalish straightens up, and gives him a grim smile. "And I apologize in advance for the treatment you'll receive for daring to be an elf in this land. From what I've heard from others, our...somewhat lacking treatment isn't the norm elsewhere. If a human gives you too hard of a time, just let one of us know. We look out for our own."

[parkourprince]

Among the things he had experienced after he befriended hobbits, a full speed collision-embrace had not been among them quite yet. He saw it coming from miles away, yet he did not step out of the way or stop Sam in any way. Such physical affection and such obvious shows of it, were not particularly common among the elves - in fact, not common at all - but after having known hobbits for a while, an elf had to make certain allowances.

This was one of them.

Legolas chuckled, grasping Sam's shoulders and squeezing gently. He was sound and hale, very energetic as well, which was a comfort. Smiling, he inclined his head in a greeting, "Have these-," the name still stuck out in his mind, after he had learned it from some natives, and it still tasted foreign on his tongue, "-Hinterlands been treating you well? Or this world that spirited us away from home?"

[parkourprince]

This gesture of greeting, at least, was somewhat familiar if still not exactly the same. Legolas mirrored it almost to a t, but his was an open palm just over his heart, and he too inclined his head in a small but polite bow. He smiled too, lifting his head, eyes crinkling. "It is well to meet you, Beleth, I am Legolas," and with his amusement running a little dry, given the circumstances, he continued, "Of a world we call Arda, from which those rifts have spirited me away."

The poor treatment of elves was something he had, unfortunately, experienced already. It was difficult not to, when he was an elf wandering freely among Men for whom elves were either slaves or savages. The smile dropped, though his expression remained friendly towards the other elf.

"I fear I already ran into this... lacking treatment," it was unpleasant, and annoying, but he didn't take it very hard. Still, a frown pulled at his brows, "It was very confusing, and concerning most of all, for the fate of kin here. Why is it so, that elves are treated so poorly here?"

[harthad_uluithiad]

Sam couldn't stop a broad, happy smile upon throwing his arms around Legolas, and didn't try. He pulled back just enough to look the Elf in the eye, his face shining.

"Oh yes; well enough," he answered eagerly. "At least as well as could be expected! Only I never thought to see you here. I never thought - well I wondered if I might never see anyone of the Fellowship again!" Here he grew quiet, his joyful expression sobering as quickly as it had appeared. "You will stay, won't you?" he asked anxiously, forgetting, for a moment, that Legolas was likely trapped just as thoroughly as Sam himself was.