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

[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...?"

[lifeofendurance]

"Only two." It's not a question, though it certainly could be. He can feel his heart sink at that news. Where are the rest? Did they too abandon the Chantry or have they just vanished? He knows, logically, that the Seekers are ever scattered to the winds and so small a number is probably fair representation, but he's disappointed and concerned nonetheless. He'd hoped for more. Not something worth exploring with an unknown person.

Back to the matter at hand, he inclines his head just enough to be polite without conveying deference. "Seeker Darton."

He'd supply more of a name but he'd just as soon not confirm his identity until he knows more. Mother might not be in the Free Marches anymore, but his younger sisters and their families are. Ravonild too, though hang her. If trouble shows on her doorstep in relation to him, perhaps it's damned well time. Not that he expects a Qunari mage in the Hinterlands to recognize the name and draw connections, but as he knows entirely too well, people do talk and Endridge wool is a sought-after commodity.

"And yourself, madam?"

[gatheringstorm]

"Korrin Ataash, of the Valo-Kas company as well as the Inquisition. More relevantly, I'm one of the members of the mage council in Skyhold. And Darton, is it?" She raises an eyebrow at that name, a spark of recognition in her eyes.

"I know that name. My company must have run a job or two for a family of that name, back in the Free Marches. That must have been a while ago, but I don't remember you among them. Any relation?"

[lifeofendurance]

A private, silent thought immediately comes to Aleron's mind, bitter and caustic: You'd have to be immobile or dead not to trip over one of my relations in the Free Marches. He doesn't give any clues to it, however, remaining as straightfaced and stoic as he's been this entire time. Years of practice put into action. Though... he should have known it'd be impossible to escape the family, even in the lands of the dog lords. The connection has been made now, and no escaping it.

"Most likely. At last count, I've three uncles, two aunts, two great-aunts, 26 cousins, and three sisters spread across the Free Marches. Take four steps, you're likely to find one." And that's not including the children born to his generation. Oddly enough, while he still knows the size of the family, he's not seen most of them in well over twenty five years.

Was that a trace of sarcasm or bitterness in his voice? Well, maybe. Probably not if the bland, matter-of-fact expression on his face is the indicator. He'd never be so rude as to snark about the family to a stranger. His problems are his alone to shoulder.

A beat. "Did you say Mage Council?" What sort of heresy is this brewing under this Inquisition's banner? He won't jump to conclusions without facts, but a mercenary Qunari mage sounds more like an apostate than not. A group of apostates banding together smells even more suspicious.

[gatheringstorm]

"Wow. Leave some room for the rest of us." Korrin raises an eyebrow at all those relations; thanks to the Qun, beyond her parents Korrin has no idea who she might be related to through blood. The thought of a family that expansive is a bit mind-boggling to her. She shakes her head a touch incredulously, not capable of imagining what that's like.

At that question, she straightens and nods, a glint of pride in her eyes. Politics annoy the hell of her, but she can still be proud at what the council has accomplished so far. And if it annoys the more pious Chantry folk, all the better. "I did; we govern ourselves now. With the support of the Inquisition, it includes all mages, Circle-trained and otherwise. I represent the latter, of the non-Dalish variety."

It's not like her being an apostate is a dread secret, especially now. No more Circles, no more care. Besides, what Circle ever held a Vashoth?

[lifeofendurance]

That confirms it. The need to travel to where this Inquisition is headquartered is now vital. He cannot believe that a mage council is anything the Divine would have espoused. He realizes he's in no position or authority to take this woman in for investigation, having no idea where the Seekers even stand any longer. But this news troubles him deeply. Mages governing themselves flies in the face of Chantry teachings. Something is clearly not right here.

"And your Templars? Are they continuing to fulfill their duties to your Council?" Because there is a duty there and he'll be just as displeased to find them not executing it as he's heard is the case.

[gatheringstorm]

'Templar' and 'duties' are never a combination Korrin wants to hear, and she crosses her arms. Her gaze is steady, not overtly confrontational, but certainly not apologetic. "The Templars have nothing to do with the Council; they don't have authority over us, though the Council at large is willing to cooperate with them on an as-needed basis. As equals. They've only just started reorganizing themselves, anyway. Fortunately, the one taking command seems far more interested in demons and Corypheus than starting another damned war we don't need."