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

[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.

[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.