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allthisshitisweird2016-02-02 01:07 am
faderifting) wrote in allthisshitisweird2016-02-02 01:07 am
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TEST DRIVE MEME!
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.
Fiona | Dragon Age
For the sake of her people the, one time, Grand Enchanter and a leader in the mage rebellion, did her best to bear as much of the tension as possible. Infighting would solve nothing and neither would the continued war between mages and Templar. Fiona's thoughts on a resolution were complicated, while she did not wish for things to return to the way they were, she also wanted to be sure her people were safe, she wanted the world to see that mages were, like anyone else, filled with light and darkness. She wasn't entirely against the Circle, but nothing like those that came before.
While mages needed a safe place to call home, they did not deserve to spend their entire lives deprived of the greater world and all of its wonders. While she believed in the policing of mages to prevent magical abuses, she did not believe they should have their privacy invaded, have their rights denied them, nor did she believe it should be solely the Templar's responsible for doing so...quite frankly she believed mages should play their own part in being responsible for the transgressions of their own. It would seem less like persecution this way.
And a part of her felt for the Templar as well, however grudgingly, they did have deprived lives and for what purpose? Everyone deserved their own happiness, but the Circle as she had known it deprived people of happiness from every background. They could not have families, aside from the ones they formed themselves, and children of mages who possessed no magical gifts of their own were not permitted...babies born were often taken before the parents had a chance to bond. It was all of this Fiona wished to see abolished.
Although she did not mind taking responsibility for the actions of her people, there were times that, she had to confess to herself, leaving Skyhold and taking on missions, no matter how mundane, offered a sense of relief. Of course this was not the only reason she opted to spend as much time away as she could manage without feeling negligent...but that reason was her secret alone. For now she was happy, or at least content, to be out in the open air in the Hinterlands applying her skills to completing tasks for the inquisition.
4. Buckets of Bear Blood
As keen as Fiona was to help the Inquisition and as gracious as she tried to be at the best of times, especially given her age, even she could only take so much before enough was decidedly enough. Was it because she was a mage? Was it because she was an elf? Was it because she was Orlesian? She had the cards stacked against her in this case, but she couldn't be entirely certain which they found more offensive. She certainly had not come to kill more bears and honestly she could sympathize with the great beasts given that they had every right to these wilds. Her purpose in coming had been to simply help broker a solution.
Instead she received a dousing in blood. Bear blood, ironically. How did they get a hold of bear blood unless a bear had been killed in the process? The creatures they wanted to protect they were using as weapons...people were often fickle in their convictions.
Unfortunately that left her wet, sticky, and it would not be easy trying to get this off of her robes, not to mention the smell, the coppery smell of blood and...the longer it sat the worse it got. She'd endured enough of that smell as a Grey Warden. So, it was back to camp she trudged, robes weighing her down, looking particularly rough and muttering to herself which she rarely ever did...but this was an exceptional occasion, "...you do not wish for my help...then you will not have me help..."
3. As the Raven Flies
Granted, though Fiona could appreciate the much needed exercise, even she could not help but to shake her head intermittently as she tracked the spymistress's young raven...though not a tracker by any means it was difficult to miss a raven among a flock of ravens with a note attached to it's foot. How one could attach something important to an amateur, in spite of how it tried, was inconceivable to her. Still, her's was to do, not to question why, and at least she was not entirely alone, there was a tracking party spread out strategically.
The problem was finding the raven and capturing it without injuring it, magic would be of no use in this situation, but seed and bread crumbs? Certainly, given the scarce food resources for birds in this cold, and with such tactics it did not taker her long to find the flock that she was looking for. Perhaps they heard the seed or got wind of the bread, but they they were, perched in the trees, watching her intently as bread and seed were spread about...perhaps if she could get them to come down here it would be easier to cast a barrier and simply claim the raven she wanted.
A fine idea to be certain, but as soon as the food was laid, the whole flock came swooping down on her at once, as if they were launching an attack. Unexpected, and there was little Fiona could do to defend herself other than dodge before she too was speared like a piece of bread, how completely undignified and unpolished, "bite the hand that feeds you if you will, so much for table manners."
BYOB - Wildcard Round
Engage Fiona as you wills~
[As an aside I fall into the camp of those who believe Fiona is Alistair's mother, it can be worked around if this is not icly the case for Alistair...I know timelines among other things throw this issue into some doubt for some people. I'm a hopeless believer however, because...it's just so messed up.]
Buckets of Bear Blood (YAY, FIONA <3)
There's little that can distract her from her annoyed train of thought, but the sight of the elven mage covered in blood has her quickening her pace. The natives hadn't dared toss blood at the tall, horned woman so her mind is more on battle than idiots being idiots. "Andraste's ass--tell me none of that's yours! Do you need potions?"
no subject
"One could only wish," Fiona responded to the question, the tone of her voice softening a little, for the woman was also a fellow mage and clearly meant her no harm and thus there was no reason for her to redirect her ire on someone who meant to help her. At least Fiona would not wear the trappings of ungratefulness, she had no right to, "incidentally, it is bear blood...can you imagine? The blood of the very creatures they wish for us to abstain from harming they bleed themselves just to throw blood at us."
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The thought of doing so is tempting for a second, but only a second. She isn't doing this for gratitude, much as it'd be nice for people to use their brains once in a while. "I'll go back to camp with you. I might as well restock before finding an alternate route, anyway. And if those idiots are dumb enough to pursue, they'll regret it."
no subject
Much as she would have liked, Fiona could not deny her own foolishness as of late, but she rarely suffered fools and that applied to herself as well, "...shall I go with you...? I do not believe we have been properly introduced, I am Fiona?"
She dropped the Grand Enchanter and all other titles, though some people still referred to her by them, she knew that this was something she no longer deserved.
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"I'm Korrin Ataash, of the Valo-Kas company, and now the representative for the non-Dalish apostates on the mage council." Finally she remembers to add that in an introduction without prodding, but it's more than relevant in this case. "And I'll show the way. They won't get close to douse you again."
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As for Vivienne...well they had differing points of view on certain things, but there was respect regardless. No, she would say nothing.
"That is very impressive, Korrin, the pleasure is all mine," she said with a smile that was tired and genuine, they were impressive titles and achievements as far as she was concerned, "I would very much appreciate that... patience is a skill I've had to master, but I doubt my ability to keep myself in check if doused a second time."
Fiona had a swift temper in her earlier days.
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"I certainly couldn't blame you for losing your temper after all that. I would have handled that with far less grace, of that I have no doubt. Patience is a skill I'm very far from mastering; I can't say council meetings have helped that any. Suffice it to say that those training dummies get a lot of abuse afterwards."
Blunt, uncompromising, impatient, quick temper...the list of reasons why Korrin isn't suited for politics goes on and on. Yet, curiously enough, she remains. It's something of a mystery to herself, too.
wildcard!
Now, though, he was well - at least in a manner of speaking. He had partaken in a Joining and was the newest Gray Warden in Skyhold. He had the False Calling to contend with, of course, but he could walk around and act without feeling like he was going to collapse. It was enough to make him deal with the sense of dread as the Calling's presence made him feel like he was meant to die anyway.
He didn't want to focus on that now, though. He wanted to talk to Fiona, to see what he could do for her and her people now that he had the ability. Redcliffe seemed as good a place as any to speak with her. He still wasn't sure how a vast majority of the mages felt about him and he didn't Fiona to deal with people judging her if they saw the two of them talking. Skyhold might be big, but it was still an enclosed space that made it easy to spy on conversations.
He wasn't sure exactly what to call her. 'Grand Enchanter' didn't seem to apply anymore and 'Fiona' seemed too impersonal. Still and old title was still better than a first name so when he approached and said, in a very calm but curious voice. "Grand Enchanter?"
no subject
She had no idea how to approach the boy or talk to him and she placed none of the blame on his shoulders if she was to be honest with her self, she singularly blamed Gereon Alexius for his own actions, his sins were not sins that she expected his son to carry. If she had been younger then perhaps she would have made that attribution error, expecting the son to be the same as the father, allow herself to be completely colored by her experiences. She learned that not everyone was the same and that Gereon Alexius was a father desperate to preserve his son...
...If she had been in his shoes, well, Fiona had no idea what she would do. She supposed it was only possible for love to drive one to feats of madness and make one completely irrational and she could not fully blame the once Magister for loving his son that much! And if she were to be true to her own heart, Fiona shared a piece of that responsibility, her desperation had driven her to such drastic measures and her people had suffered for it. What she wouldn't do for them, to her they were the only family she had known for quite some time.
So when he called to meet with her in Redcliffe, while surprised that he would wish to travel such a distance merely to speak with her, she did not reject the invitation out of curiosity and perhaps in wonder that he would go to such lengths just to have this conversation.
"Fiona," she offered, hearing the question in his voice as he struggled for what he should call her, "I...understand you are a Grey Warden now? You owe no fealty and you are not obligated to refer to me by any title. Though I understand that to be a personal preference."
She looked weary, but she wore a warm expression, "are you feeling well...? I should have found the opportunity to ask sooner."
no subject
"I feel much better," he admitted. There were many issues, starting with the False Calling, but he wasn't dying immediately any more. That was something.
"And you had your own concerns. How have you been settling in? Has the Inquisition been treating you well?"
HI MOM (#3)
"It was a good idea," he offers, from his safe distance away, through the trees. He's a late addition to the search party, but he's here now. He's helping. Not just laughing. He crunches over through the snow toward her, eyeing the flock that's swarmed her offering in search of one with a letter. "Or half of a good idea. There is another half, right?"
Mishap with the swam of birds aside, Alistair imagines the Grand Enchanter is a touch too dignified to try pouncing bodily on a raven in the snow. But maybe she isn't. He doesn't know her at all.
no subject
"One of the few as of--" her attention was more attuned to the birds and less on the approaching figure, but when she finally turned to face the man in question she had to fight against every urge she had to escape the situation. There would have been no plausible justification for it out here, not like in Skyhold where there were dozens of ways one might avoid running into someone. She was, unfortunately, late in hiding her shock upon seeing him, something she wished she had been better at, but time did not improve everything. It took her a moment to recover, smooth her expression, fix her attention on the birds, "I fear I must have been absent on the day they taught raven wrangling in the Grey Wardens."
At least somewhere inside of her she still possessed a sense of humor, watered down as it might be. She was trying to maintain her composure to the best of her ability considering.
"In the Circle, however, I learned a fair amount about barriers," as insufferable as she might have been as a student, she learned anyway.
no subject
No, he probably wouldn't stop. Never mind.
"You didn't miss much," he says, grabbing hold of that watered-down humor. "A lot of net throwing and screaming. The most useless lesson I've ever had, honestly, and I had to memorize the Chant."
That part is true, at least. He did memorize the Chant. If there had been raven-catching lessons it probably would have been more fun, if not more useful. He eyes the flock and grins down and sideways at her—as friendly as he'd be with any other complete stranger who wasn't trying to kill him.
"Barrier is smart, though. Like a magic net. I see why they made you Grand Enchanter."
no subject
...she was expecting something else entirely.
"The Chant? You were more enterprising in your studies than I," Fiona returned that grin with a rare smile of her own, "the one who taught me insisted I learn to be a lady. I could only make faces at her while her back was turned, which goes without saying--I failed spectacularly."
Was that too much? No one wanted to hear the old stories of an aged elf, though why she felt at ease just now she could not say. Well, in the back of her mind she knew why, but that was something she would keep well hidden.
"It is a prerequisite for becoming Grand Enchanter, you know? Impressive magic nets," it had been such a long time since she had felt the urge to joke about anything in particular. It felt good, but it passed, and in the next moment she was readying her staff and casting her spell, capturing their little feathery target, along with a few others, "care to show me what I missed in those raven wrangling lessons?"