allthisshitisweird | TEST DRIVE MEME!

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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.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

It's so much easier to figure out what way you want to be going when you have a direction in mind. And when you have some idea where you are. Then again, Red isn't exactly a newbie when it comes to desperately running, figure it out as you go, courtesy of a long while of banditry with Snow. Running from the Queen, running from herself - all in all she's pretty good at running.

This time she's taking it at more of a stroll, albeit a determined one. She's softly humming as she goes, the bright red of her cloak stark against the snow and the dark greens and browns of the fir trees. Occasionally there are actual words, and what she's singing doesn't seem quite in keeping with the general music to be heard in Ferelden.

I made it through the wilderness, somehow I made it through-oo-oo - the lyrics are soft, but she is diligently working through the entire Immaculate Collection. After that she's thinking maybe Thriller, or Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. She may not love everything about being Ruby Lucas as well as Red, might feel disconnected and out of place, but she can say that her land-with-no-magic alter ego had a pretty killer record collection.

Snow is clinging to her cloak, she hasn't got a bow, nor any arrows, but she does have a handy dagger and an excess of red leather, so at least her extremities are fine. This is just like old times, except for how she's all alone, which... actually is pretty normal, these days.

( 1. )
There's a fallen free, just freshly broken, scorch marks about the crack. Lightning, maybe, or maybe a mage wielding lightning spells. Honestly Ruby doesn't much care; her head is a little foggy, and she's groaning a little as she tries to figure out -- "what the Hell?"

A flash of red in the snow, and though Red herself isn't visible, the struggle of someone trying to push a tree off themselves is pretty audible. "I made it through the wilderness," she pants, eyeing the branches of others trees sprawling across the sky, very flatly and with just a hint of accusation. "Somehow I made it through."

Werewolf strength? A plus, yeah. Still not going to help get a giant tree off her. She may need some help, bruh.

( 2. )
Can't a girl catch a break?
A poor attempt to diffuse an escalating confrontation, some harsh words and references to things she didn't understand, something about an Inquisition, and now she's got blood running down her face, and her bodice, and just. Everywhere. "Nobody expects the Fairytale Inquisition," Red murmurs, and she's just relieved that the blood smells decidedly not

human. And it's not warm, either, but the fact is that it's blood, cold, congealing blood, and it's on her. Freezing onto her, actually. The wolf in her prickles, and it would be so easy to just let that monster out, but she never does. It's not the right way, not who she is.

That doesn't mean that she doesn't look deeply deeply pissed, as she drags her hand over her cheek to wipe it away, before glancing to the person who was, a few moments ago, being yelled at. "You okay?"

( 4. )
Please, God. She is standing there, but she can smell rodents and cake and frankly it's a disturbing combination, so she hasn't even made it inside. She's just... looking. And concerned. She's cold and she's hungry, but is she that cold and hungry?

Yeah, probably.

( 5. idk I need to figure out how her powers work here, actually :|a )
Your character (or perhaps some random npcs, who knows) are under attack. Snow, rifts, good times for all.

There's a woman in a red cloak, running. Running towards some demons, rather than away from them. The first thing that might be weird is that the cloak - a deep red with a beautiful brocade - is being thrown aside as she runs. The next is that she leaps, and as she leaps the young woman with flowing brown hair and green eyes changes, body twisting, so that what strikes the demon is not a woman but a wolf. It is a large wolf, fur shaggy grey and black, and it tears into the demons with a brutal ferocity.

( wildcard me. )

Edited 2016-02-02 10:03 (UTC)

Though it saddened her greatly that not all of the mages had found their way to the Inquisition, a good many of them seduced by Corypheus and all that he claimed he could offer, Fiona was still grateful to count herself and a good portion of her people among those that found their way to Skyhold. It was not often easy, there was plenty of tension between Templars and Mages, even within such a neutral zone that invited anyone and everyone who could to help fight in this threat. In a sense she was vaguely reminded her of the Grey Wardens, plenty of diversity without they heinous Joining ritual.

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.]

Fiona's not the only one muttering. Nearby, a Vashoth woman with a staff strapped to her back stalks toward camp as well with a thunderous expression on her face. "Fucking idiots...." They were blocking her from saving them from rift-addled bears?!? Did they forget so quickly how the beasts have been nothing but a menace since the Breach? Evidently, and though Korrin has no intention of fighting them, having to find an alternate path yet again is making her irritable. Perhaps she should return to camp and refill her potions anyway, since they're running low.

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?"

Edited 2016-02-02 21:19 (UTC)

3
Bloody birds, she's always known they're tenuous messengers at best, precisely for this reason. Dressed in her traveling leathers, Teren sits in the snow, careful not to make any sudden movements, and watches the birds-- The Bird-- from a short distance, her lips pursed angrily as it pecks cheerfully along with the others.

Taking care to make as little sound as possible, Teren withdraws from her pocket a small bag of crumbs, and begins to dourly toss them toward the ravens. Come on. Come on you fool bird. You're wasting everyone's time.

5
"It's how much?!"
Teren's coat has been gnawed to pieces by the rodents in the inn, and now she is at the Crossroads, freezing cold and haggling with what may literally be a highway robber for a new one. If she had some treated leather at her disposal, this wouldn't be an issue, but here she is.
"You've got another thing coming if you think anyone's going to shell out six gold for that rotten scrap of hide," she snaps, "start talking sense or I'll ensure you never sell wares in this village or anywhere near."

Edited 2016-02-02 17:44 (UTC)

Felix hadn't really been avoiding Fiona in the time they had both been in Haven and Skyhold so much as his illness had made it difficult for him to interact with her much. He still had this lingering sense of guilt that he should have been able to do more sooner to help her and her people. His work writing letters to Tevinter to encourage his allies to aid the Inquisition whenever possible had been part of making up for his long period of inactivity but he still hadn't made it up fully to Fiona and her people. After all, they had been the ones his father had planned to force into slavery in order to entice the Herald to Redcliffe. Fiona had even personally been manipulated in that ploy.

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?"

The birds are, for the most part, ignoring her. There are one or two pecking their way through the crumbs that she leaves, but none of the closest ones have the message attached to them. They're clustered particularly tightly in one area, obscuring what they were perched on and croaking contently. A hand emerges briefly, clad in a leather glove, and several of the birds immediately descend upon it, accompanied by low-pitched chuckling. When a few of them back off to investigate the new source of crumbs, several of the birds fluttered off to show the man hidden underneath.

"Wassup!" he says cheerfully upon spotting the rather tired-looking woman trying to coax the birds toward her. He grins, holding up his hand full of crumbled confection. "Here, you wanna feed 'em? Got one here's real tame. Had a thing attached, like a motherfuckin' carrier pigeon." He strokes his fingertip under the target raven's beak and over its neck.

((ooc; BASIC NOTES: she's a mage, yes, but more importantly, she's a spirit medium. Possessed by a spirit? Have one harassing you? Come on down to the party! She promises not to tell anyone your secret. Also, her hair isn't actually green but I'm too lazy to find a bunch of blonde!Terra pictures to icon SO... Also also prose or brackets are a-okay, I will match you!))

1. She doesn't know what she did to make it angry, but man is that bear angry.

Terra finds herself making her way through the snow as quickly as she possibly can, which is a lot harder to do than she had thought it would be. If she could just run on top of it or maybe melt her way through that would be great, but alas, that kind of luck just isn't in her cards. Occasionally she glances back over her shoulder, glad to see that at the very least the bear isn't gaining any ground. It is doggedly persistent, however, no matter how much she runs.

But then she trips, falls, tumbles through the snow a few times, and the bear gains on her. She cowers slightly, eyes squeezed shut, and lets out a loud "Leave me alone!" that gets accompanied by a blast of spirit energy. When she looks up she finds the bear knocked back a few yards and staggering and she takes the opportunity to get up and resume running, looking for either shelter or, better yet, someone with a sword to stab the thing. Or at least scare it away.

4. Not only is the tavern warm (a more than welcome change from the cold outside) but it smells amazing to boot. Terra has sampled more sweet things in this one day than she has her entire life, and the weight of it all is starting to settle heavily on her stomach. Glancing around, trying to find somewhere a little quieter to slip away to to maybe rest some of the snacks off.

Luckily she finds herself a nice corner to nestle in to and she wraps her cloak tighter around herself, tattered and worn from her travels, and she settles in to maybe catch a quick nap. Here's hoping that the seat wasn't being held for someone, or that she doesn't accidentally kick someone in her sleep.

5. Do you know what's exhausting? Snow. Do you know what's even worse? Climbing hills that are covered with snow. The worst part is that, with everything being just so white everywhere, it's hard to tell where a path ends. Which is how Terra manages to find herself tumbling over the edge of a low cliff to land in the snow bank below, unharmed but now soaked through to the bone and--hopefully--she managed to avoid anyone who happened to be passing by.

Or Whatever. DO A THING. I'LL RESPOND TO IT.

"HEY! OVER HERE!"

Is Korrin talking to the girl or the bear? Well, both. As the girl runs towards her, the Vashoth mage casts a Barrier spell to encompass them both. Narrowing her eyes at the large, clawed menace, she blurs forward on waves of magic, slicing at it with her spirit blade. Despite some local idiots complaining about the Inquisition doing their job when it comes to rift-addled wildlife, she's not going to just let one pass and ruin someone else's day. This thing is going down.

4.

This isn't the first time Jane has had to do some sort of menial task to make things run smoothly for someone else. Honestly, she isn't even trying to collect the rodents to bring spring early - no matter how tired she is of the snow. She's mostly doing it to give the cakes a chance to survive long enough to be judged.

When they had said 'large rats' she was half expecting the kind of massive rodents you might encounter in the Deep Roads. Those probably would have cleared out the tavern must faster though, cake or no cake.

These ones were big, but not so big that you had to take them down with swords. Instead, she had a large sack she was placing the little blighters in after they were safely trapped.

"You're kind of cute, aren't you?" she said to the newest one. It was indeed far cuter than any other the others she had found. Most of them had been a dark gray or brown color and had fur that was filthy and gross. This one seemed more delicate, with a small tuft of white hair above it's eye. "Someone could also put you in a cage and take you home."

The animal made a panicked noise and tried to bite her to get free. She twisted her arm just in time to avoid that. Rather than be offended, she seemed more amused by the effort. "That's right, little guy. You fight until you don't have any fight left." She almost didn't want to put this one in the bag, but there was free cake waiting.

"Next time, go for the eyes," she added before delicately plopping him into the sack.

(alternatively, wildcard! you pick the set up!)

She hears the voice before she sees its source, but Terra turns toward it blindly and starts shoving her way through the snow, her energy renewed. She scrambles a bit toward the end to duck behind the large (very large) woman, nearly collapsing to the ground when the sense of safety settles around her. But she keeps herself upright, pulling herself up to watch with muted amazement.

The qunari had such... control. Terra's eyes widen slightly and she stares down at her own hands in wonder. Could she-- she has so much to learn. Her gaze lifts again and she shifts a bit to the side in order to get a better view, her eyes flickering from her rescuer to the bear who still didn't seem to want to give up.

Belinda is trying to put the local farmers at ease by checking the nearby woods for bears. She's sure they're all hibernating this time of year, but on the off chance that one is up and about, she'll have to put it down to protect the farmers and their livestock. Or perhaps make note of its location, head back, get backup, and then return to put it down. She would feel bad for the poor, hungry thing, so that is why she hopes she doesn't find one out roaming around. Farmers tend to get jumpy about these sorts of things. The cold winter's wind blowing through branches could sound just like a bear's roar to them.

And so she trudges through snow, her shield on her back and a sword at her side. When she hears the sound of someone struggling, she knows it's certainly not a bear, and she rushes forward to see what's the matter. The contrast of red against the bright white snow makes Belinda think of blood, but once she's close, she sees it's fabric. And now she sees dark hair and hears the struggling of a woman. A woman with a tree on her.

"Maker's breath!" she exclaims, kneeling beside the tree and pushing her shoulder into it. It doesn't move. "Don't worry; I'll get you out!" she says, Starkhaven accent an oddity in the Hinterlands. "Let me take a running start."

It isn't hard to hear the struggle. Metaari is just passing through the area on his way to literally anywhere but the Hinterlands when he hears the voice through the silence of the snow. He turns toward it, hesitating for only a moment, before he finally picks his way through the brush to the source of the sound.

He stops to rest his bow and quiver against a nearby tree before he moves toward the pinned girl, trying to gauge where he could best get a grip. "You alright?" he finally asks as he steps forward, bracing himself as he gets his hands under the tree. "If you've got any sort of grip and can push, we'll get this off you in no time." He could probably lift it enough to get her out from under it, but a little extra assistance never hurt anyone.

Bears never seemed to want to give up, annoyingly. Korrin blames the Breach driving them mad, which makes her pity them just a little...but not enough to let it live and continue to rampage. The bear's energetic, she'll give it that, but Korrin's barrier holds, to her satisfaction lasting longer than it does before she began her specialized training. As she swings with her glowing blade, dodging a large paw swinging her way, the Vashoth woman calls out.

"If you have anything to throw at it, now's the time! It's defintely distracted." Not that distraction is Korrin's main goal; if she can cut through that hide and end it, well, she'll take that opportunity.

It's definitely there, a certain sort of tug that she gets when her magic is itching to be used. But then so are the voices, the whispers of spirits around them, prickling her skin and trying to get her attention. She closes her eyes against their words, blocks them out, and eventually she holds out her hand, palm facing out toward the bear.

Gritting her teeth she braces herself as a bolt of white light, touched by spirit energy, fires from her palm. It doesn't seem to do much, but it's followed by another, and yet another in rapid succession.

"Maker's--" what? Huh. That is not a saying she's used to either in the world without magic, or the Enchanted Forest. There's no time for concern or questions on that front, though, because the stranger that just came to her aid said something that's a little more pressing.

"Running start?" Let her just try to look at the woman, and not having a lot of success. The angle is a little tricky. "Running start for what?"

Her words come a little short of breath, tree and all.

Upon seeing the series of bolts strike their target, Korrin grins--and then is nearly deafened by that roar from the bear. That's what she gets for insisting on magic that will sustain her on the front lines, though in the end it's still worthwhile. When the bear begins to turn its attention back to the other mage, Korrin's eyes narrow.

"Oh, no you don't. Stay on me, you piece of shit!" And she closes in again to slice deep into the underbelly of the bear, piercing its hide as though it were little more than a nug thanks to the weave of magic that is her blade.

Suffice to say, she's never encountered a giant hulking man with horns back home. The stranger is tall, and for a second she's tenses up, struggling to brace herself so she can get the damn tree away and give herself a fighting chance.

But then he's putting down the bow, and he's walking closer, and Red-- she talks a moment, exhaling slowly. She's been called a monster, before. She should probably try not to jump to the worst possible conclusion, no matter how foggy and headachey her head might be, even if she can imagine Granny keeping a crossbow well and truly trained on the guy.

"I'm fine," Red replies, although it comes out a little tight, an almost-wheeze. "Yeah, I can-- hang on." She has to twist, just slightly, to get better angle to for leverage, before she nods. "All right."

Terra watches, awed, as the blade slices through the bear like it was made of nothing. Her hand drops down to her side and she finds herself unable to tear her gaze away even as the beast is split apart. When it finally drops to the ground the silence that settles around her is almost too much to stand.

She finally lifts her gaze, her chest rising and falling as she tries to catch her breath, and she nods slightly. "Thank you."

"Got it?" Metaari flexes a little, testing his grip, before he finally nods. "Push on three, then. Ready? One... two... three."

There's a faint grunt as he digs his heels into the ground and starts to lift, straining a bit to pull the tree up off the ground. She couldn't have conveniently been pinned by just the top of it, could she? Would have been a bit easier to just haul some branches out of the way. Still, the assistance is useful, enough to help him get it a few feet off of the ground. His jaw tightens as he glances down, bracing the trunk against his legs. "Enough room?"

(1 | Don't look a Rift horse in the mouth)

Obi-Wan had no idea what he was getting into, this morning. It had been a nice, hot cup of tea, a little bit of paperwork and then-- then he'd been falling. And now, he found himself rather more in the center of a circle of... creatures? He might have called them people, but for the attire. People tended to have some, for example. In any case, they were very much trying to kill him.

For the innocent eyes watching, it must have seemed something of a turnaround, one man alone, unarmed, dressed in nothing more protective than a traveling cloak, and then...

"Very well, if you insist," The lightsaber ignited with a distinctive snap-fizz, startlingly bright and very blue against the right-green glow and the demonic screeches as Obi-Wan moves, rolling to his feet with the same motion that drew his weapon to hand, "Come on!"

(2 | Xfox Live)

Witness the humble Jedi master, and his little game-hen on a stick. He's got a very small little camp set up, a fire off on his own, and-- is that a Fennec? It is!

Carefully, the fox edges its way closer, closer yet... Cloooser. Obi-Wan snorts a chuckle, and throws a scrap of offal to it, which is quickly snapped up and carried away. It'll be back.

Come say hello. It's a lovely day.

(3 | Wildcard Three: Return Of The Random Scenario)

Edited 2016-02-03 02:16 (UTC)

"Got it." One, two and she groans with the exertion as she forces up against the bark, feels it digging into her palms. Her hands are already scratched and grazed, and the strain presses the weight of the tree harder into the existing bruising on her hands. None of that makes for a good reason to stop trying, though, and so she grits her teeth until the stranger speaks. The effort brings an orange-gold glow to her eyes, traces of the wolf shining through.

"Yeah," a breath of a word, as Red quickly scrambles out from where she was, rolling free of the tree and branches. She needs to stand, but honestly she just had a tree on top of her, so maybe he'll forgive her for just taking a moment to actually breathe.

And then, a slight wave from her spot in the snow, as she tries to ease herself up and her ribs protest. "Thanks. I'm Ruby."

The tree gets unceremoniously dropped back to the ground once the girl rolls free and Metaari draws himself up to his full height, rolling his shoulders to try to get them loose after the strain of it. He glances down at his hands and wrinkles his nose a bit before leaning down to pat snow against them, easing the slight burn from rubbing against the bark. He decides to sit on the now fallen trunk and grins down at her, lifting a hand in a return gesture. "Don't mention it. Name's Metaari."

His eyes drop sideways toward the tree and he pats it slightly. "Not often I come across someone trapped under a tree. You sure you're alright?"

She's immersing her hands in the snow, as well, though it's partly to obscure the green glow that one of them has afflicted with, even if it's not necessarily the most effective tactic. Ultimately it just has her grimacing just slightly at the sting, before glancing up with something of a lopsided smile. If she had to guess, she'd be pretty confident saying this guy wasn't a monster. Real monsters, the people you needed to be scared of, they only helped when it benefitted them - Rumpelstiltskin comes to mind. He'd have made her promise something in return for getting out from under that tree.

"Metaari, huh? Nice to meet you." And a huff of laughter, shaking her head a little. "Honestly, I don't want to think about what my ribs look like right now."

Hopefully they are not also glowing. That'd really suck. "Anyway, I'm still in one piece, so it's not as bad as it could be." A moment of silence, just thinking something over, before she tries a cautious, "are you from around here, Metaari?"

"To smash into the tree!" Belinda backs up and pulls her shield forward. Though she's young and looks more like a milkmaid or a healer than a fighter, until recently, she was a Templar. She is stronger than she looks, thanks to plenty of training plus lyrium.

She lines up where she wants to go and with a cry, launches forward with a forceful bash of her shield against wood.

Well, it'd actually help him pin her down a bit more. He's been around the Inquisition long enough now to know what that mark designated, maybe he could point her to the right people. Either way, at least there'd be no judgment. "We could get you to a healer once you're up for a trek. They'll be able to patch you up pretty quickly."

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studies her, grinning a bit at the question. "The Hinterlands specifically? Not quite. I have a place I was born, but I'm not really from anywhere. I'm spending most of my time with the Inquisition these days. I guess you could say that's where I'm from. What about you? I can't quite pin your accent."

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TEST DRIVE MEME!

red | ruby lucas ( once upon a time. ) prose or brackets are cool :]b

Fiona | Dragon Age

Buckets of Bear Blood (YAY, FIONA <3)

teren von skraedder | dragon age OC

wildcard!

3!

Terra Branford | Final Fantasy VI (DA AU)

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Obi-Wan Kenobi | Star Wars: Clone Wars

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