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

[eviscerates]

"The second time wasn't romantic. True love isn't just for romance. Sometimes it's friends or family. Love is important all around, I guess."

And, she holds up a hand. Scout's honour. "Actually, that was part of the curse. No memories of home, different lives. Snow was Mary Margaret Blanchard, and she taught at the primary school. I was Ruby, and I worked at my Granny's diner. We were just... normal."

If she sounds a little nostalgic? It's because she is. She wouldn't give up being Red, but there had been a lot of stuff that she'd been better off forgetting, happier not knowing. "And Robin didn't turn up for a long time, but that's a whole different story. Some people got left behind. It's... it's convoluted," is the only thing she can say. Because it was. It was so confusing to think about.

The look she throws Hermione is somewhere between amused and indignant. "Just Red. No one's called me 'little' since I was fourteen, tops. Geez, tease a girl for her name. Feels like being a teenager all over again."

But, huh. She rolls her shoulder a little, and after a moment, adds, "It feels a lot better. The scratches, I mean."

[bookish_lioness]

"Like a mother for her son," Hermione murmurs absently. She doesn't know that it echoes the case Red's referencing, but it's exactly what had happened in her world. Lily Potter is about the only reason Hermione can bring herself to believe something as maudlin as love being behind the world's most powerful magic.

Before Red even gives her a proper response regarding her name, she mentioned working at Granny's diner, and the strange retelling of the tale already starts forming in her head. It's enough to make Hermione forget about having wandered from a dream and into the path of hostile bears, if only because understanding this happens to be a more pressing matter at the moment. "Well obviously you're not little, but-..." she begins, trailing off with a small frown.

Shaking her head, she remarks, "I find all this hard to believe. Magic can do all sorts of things, but the magic you're talking about... it shouldn't be possible." She pauses for a moment before admitting in a low murmur, "But then, neither should going to sleep on a completely normal evening and waking up in an unfamiliar forest with bears attacking you."

Whatever the case, she's sure that no one cares what she does or doesn't believe, and so she focuses on the more important thing at the moment. "They shouldn't even scar," she tells her, glancing at her back once more. "I'm glad I had the dittany with me. I've gotten better at healing charms over the years, but I'm still not nearly as good as I could be if I don't have the right potion."

[eviscerates]

Red can't help but look at Hermione, with those words. An odd silence hangs between them, and she has to clear her throat because it sounds rough. "Yeah. Something like that."

And... she doesn't seem to believe her. Or is struggling with it? It's entirely fair, honestly. They'd all thought Henry was just having some kid phase with all that talk about fairy tales and telling everyone who they were. The memory makes her grin, even if there's something bittersweet in it. "Imagine being a waitress and having a kid you've known since forever telling you that you're really Red Riding Hood." And a little huff of laughter. "And trying to get you to take up carrying a basket everywhere."

Still. Still, there are so many things to struggle with, here. So much she could (maybe should say), and she's got no clue where to start - or stop, for that matter. It's like a ball of yarn, and once you start pulling at it, all keeps rolling out. Or maybe the metaphor would work better with tangled headphones. No matter what you can do, it doesn't seem to get any better.
"It would be better if it wasn't," Red starts, trying to remember the way they'd all responded. "And we hadn't thought it was. And then we didn't think there'd be a way to break the curse, but... there was. Somehow it all fell into place." But her smile is a little rueful. "But magic is definitely something most people are wary of, I think. You hope and wish and dream about it, and sometimes the reality isn't what you hoped for."

With the work on her back seeming done, Red lets the blouse slip down lower again, before pulling the bodice back into place and tugging the strings tighter before she starts to tie it. "I'm glad you had the dittany, too. That stuff is amazing."

[bookish_lioness]

Hermione isn't the sort of person that puts much stock in belief. She needs facts, she needs probable cause, she needs - at the very least - a solid hypothesis and a method with which to prove how viable it is or isn't. The only reason she'd ever managed to bring herself to believe in magic is because Professor McGonagall herself had shown her proof positive that it exists.

"I would have politely suggested to the child's parents that they look into therapy," she replies, managing a small, awkward smile. "It does seem a bit more fantastical than the sort of thing the average child might come up with."

Hermione doesn't know how to approach Red's specific situation, leaving her at a bit of a loss. She doesn't know how to help her, or if there's even anything to help. It leaves her in something of an uncomfortable situation, and so she settles on a topic tat she knows she can at least expound a bit upon.

"It's very hard to get a hold of," she responds. "Or at least, it's a little pricier than most herbs. But that's because you don't really need a lot of it to get the job done. I only needed a few dabs to heal what could have been a very nasty Splinching, so the scratches were simple enough."