allthisshitisweird | TEST DRIVE MEME

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TEST DRIVE MEME

A kingdom of isolation, and it looks like

it's the 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. WILL IT EVER BE WARM AGAIN WE JUST DON'T KNOW

1. AND THE BEARS THAT ONCE CONTROLLED ME CAN'T GET TO ME AT ALL

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. In case you hadn't guessed, it's still snowy.

2. LET IT GO

At first it sounds like a folktale, passed around tavern hearths and campfires after a few too many tankards. An evil witch with a heart of ice atop a frigid mountain fortress, casting endless winter upon the land, turning those who oppose her into snowmen. But it turns out it's true-- or at least partly. Maybe. Sort of. If you can weed through the stories, the common threads are these: several locals and travelers claim to have been accosted on the back roads through the hills by a female mage who used ice magic to trap them and steal their belongings, sometimes freezing solid those who tried to fight back. Some said she claimed to own the land, others that she was collecting a toll, and several that she cackled wildly about ranted about endless winter. Whichever version you choose to believe, there seems to be an apostate who needs dealing with. Perhaps you'd like to wander the roads in the guise of a wealthy traveler and lure her into an ambush? Scout the caves in the hills and try to track her to her lair? Make a friendly visit and recruit her to the Inquisition?

3. LET IT GO

The Hinterlands are dotted with lakes and ponds and streams, nearly all of which are frozen solid. The locals sometimes travel this way, pushing goods across on sledges, or strapping blades to the bottoms of their boots to skate, carrying messages and supplies or just racing when the weather is clear. Some enterprising souls have even attached sails to their sleds or runners to their rowboats and skitter across the ice hoping not to tip over or stray off-course into rocks. There are other hazards, too: in some places the ice is deceptively thin, and you may come across a stranger unlucky enough to have lost a boot or gotten a leg stuck or fallen through altogether. Maybe you're the unlucky one, treading icy water and calling for help.

4. I AM ONE WITH THE BLAH BLAH BLAAAAAH

The tavern at Redcliffe is rid of both cakes and rats, but is still filled to the brim with rowdy drunks. Tonight they are both rowdier and drunker than usual, and something sets someone off. Maybe it's you, maybe it's the guy next to you, maybe it's someone all the way across the room and you don't even see it happen, but suddenly the entire place is engulfed in a knock-down drag-out glass-smashing chair-swinging bar fight. Dive right in, pick a side, pick no side, get caught off-guard, hide under a table, try to sneak out, it's up to you but you'd better decide quickly.

5. THE COLD NEVER BOTHERED ME ANYWAY

Hunt game, or kill demons, dig under the snow for herbs, track bandits, open a streetside scarf stand in Redcliffe, fall off a deceptively tall rock into the snow, 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, climb trees or abandoned towers covered in snow, rummage around in empty homes to get out of the snow, run from a dragon, definitely don't kill any fennec foxes, set up camp and chat around the fire, sing a rousing solo about your love of the weather, do whatever the hell you want-- the Hinterlands are your endless frozen playground.

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4. Do NOT touch the hair!
Hair was important to the elves, it was a sign of beauty and to allow another to touch it was a sign of trust and liking, an intimacy of a sort. So Legolas was not going to have it when at the tavern, which he visited out of curiosity and curiosity alone, a drunk saw it fit to approach him and stroke along the length of the golden strands with sweaty fingers stained with ale. He grabbed the man's wrist after a split second, and held it firmly in his grasp.

One slender eyebrow arched, Legolas looked displeased and most unimpressed.

option a.
At the tip of his tongue was a snide remark that would certainly set off in motion events not exactly pleasant to most, and worst for the owner of the tavern. But perhaps a kind soul would step in, and spare a proud elf the experience of being spat on and the inevitable fight that would break out.

option b.
"If you would spare me the fate of smelling of ale and your sweat, I would greatly appreciate that," level toned, with a small smile, but the look that accompanied the words said a lot more. In the drunken stupor it took the man a couple moments to notice the pointed ears and realise that this, this was an elf. A little different looking, but an elf all the same. And this elf now was talking back at him!

Thus, a swing that Legolas ducked easily. He let the man tumble forward into another patron and once the people around were distracted, he quietly, discreetly made his way out.

Catch him and bring him to justice? (No.)

5. F$%^*& DRAGONS!!
Middle-earth, for a large majority of Legolas's life, was hardly a peaceful and safe place. In his home, orc raids and giant spider infestation was a constant, a sleeping dragon lived in a near-by mountain, and then he joined the Fellowship and trouble followed in their step. The War of the Ring was not a pleasant matter either. But none of it could have prepared him to stand eye to eye with a dragon that could rival Smaug.

He fled without thinking much of it, hiding among trees and lightly stepping on the fleshly fallen snow without sinking at all. Swift, he tried using the most dense of the routes beneath the canopies.

option a.
Luck had it that, looking over his shoulder to see if the creature was following in his wake, he missed someone struggling through the deep snow right in his path. And while elves - those of Arda anyway - could walk on top of snow, when falling they were prone to follow the same rules of gravity as everyone else. The snow collapsed beneath Legolas's weight and he sank with a plop.

Overhead, thankfully, the dragon flew on.

option b.
He found shelter, sliding into it in a hurry and with some degree of nervous panic showing on his features. Shelter apparently occupied by someone else - and not a bear - so... hello?

WILD CARD!
Anything at all! \o/ Random run-ins on the streets of camps, or whatever cities there are or in the forests... catch him singing, or hunting, or simply walking around and talking to trees.

Now that could not have gone any better had he orchestrated the situation himself, which he had not. Honestly!

Oh one could never tell, but really, that had gone off without his hand in it at all and the glorious chaos that sprung from it put a small, nondescript smile on Loki's lips.

Now the drunks were leveling their confused, imagined slights at one another and the elf wasn't hanging back to appreciate his very fine work. What a shame, which was why he had to follow.

"It is pandemonium in there, you've no wish to observe?"

Edited 2016-03-03 18:31 (UTC)

When addressed, Legolas glanced over to the Man speaking. His amusement was clear to his eye, the smile a sign obvious enough, and Legolas stopped in his step, though he still moved out of the way of the general commotion. He had no desire to be pulled into any of it, though it was not out of fear, rather unwillingness by the mass of drunk, sweaty Men.

"My presence here will only make it worse, I fear," though they all did seem very... taken with themselves, currently, before long very few would remain standing, "And I may risk becoming the very centre of it, should I not be careful enough."

And he ducked by a fraction when a half-filled pint glass flew in their general direction and smashed on the wall beside his head. The ale splattered Legolas's shoulder and he brushed it off.

"They do not respect elves here, unfortunately, not very much." He smiled, wry, "And there is no enjoyment to be taken from such disrespect."

"They seem to hold similar prejudices toward those with knowledge of the arcane and a gift for magic, it's just like home," Loki was, for better or worse, not as careful with his words as Legolas, he saw no reason to be, not with the air of confidence that seemed to radiate from him, "of course when you revel in bad ale and the smell of wet dog, the who's to judge?"

Did he say that out loud? He must have, because when he glanced out of the corner of his eye there were bottles and bits of furniture being lobbed in their general direction. Bottles and furniture that seemed to glance off of them as if they'd struck an invisible wall. An invisible wall that threw their projectiles right back at them.

"I dare say they are very protective of their love of dog stink, my friend," oddly enough Loki seemed to be enjoying the hostility.

The tavern is Korrin's refuge from nonsense involving rifts, bears, dragons and other hazards of the Hinterlands. She doesn't especially care for that refuge to be disrupted in any way, let alone by human bigotry. Upon spotting yet another elf being harassed, the Vashoth woman stands up from her seat and heads over with narrowed eyes.

"Hey, asshole. Turn around and head out. Now." Considering that she's over a foot taller than most human men and horned, with a staff on her back, looming is usually all Korrin needs to do in order to get people to obey her. But if that's not enough, she's willing to show that some mages know how to throw a good punch.

Legolas had to stare too, even if it was in his defence that this woman stood now. At the very least, he managed to keep his expression clear of most of the surprise. It was a new world, full of strangeness - like this Man's attitude towards elves - and things and peoples unknown, exactly like this tall woman of folk unlike any he had known in his life.

He released the Man's hand with undisturbed calmness, with easy pride that back home demanded, and received, the well deserved respect. There was none of that, though, just fear sparked by the one coming to his aid whenever the Man glanced her way, and displeasure bordering on disgust and hatred, when he turned his gaze to Legolas himself. "They all should keep you on shorter leashes," he spat, slurring the words, but turned around to leave without causing a scene. At least that, though Legolas felt hardly comforted. Never before in all his long life had he experienced anything like this. Not from anyone but orcs or goblins or trolls, the only folk showing such disdain for the elves where he came from.

"My thanks, most sincere, I fear it would not have ended so peacefully otherwise," he addressed the woman, bowing his head in thanks. He did his best not to stare anymore, at least. "I had not considered that my presence would cause such an uproar."

Those slurred words have Korrin narrowing her eyes further, but she isn't so ill-disciplined as to cause a scene when the point was preventing one. She'll save her energy for those times when looming and glaring isn't enough. Turning to the elf, the hardness from her gaze vanishes and her expression becomes sympathetic as she nods back. Staring is not something she minds anyway, as long as people aren't rude about it.

"You'd think with tears in the Veil and demons pouring out of them that people's priorities would change, but for some idiots, there's always room for bigotry. Especially when it comes to elves; Dalish or city folk, they never seem to catch a break. But while I'm around, anyone who starts in on that 'knife-ear' crap will be shown the door. I'm not a bouncer, but I don't think it's too much to ask that we drink in peace. I'm Korrin, by the way, of the Valo-Kas company and the Inquisition."

Edited 2016-03-09 02:09 (UTC)

Or a guy with a longbow and a blue uniform can step in, grab the other guy by the hair, and casually bounce the side of his face off the table.

"Come on, time to sleep it off," Nathaniel growls, lifting the assailant by his hair. "He said no."

Both the large longbowman and the drunk assailant disappear into another room. After a moment, the longbowman reappears, adjusting his gloves and apparently muttering something under his breath. He glances about for the...oh. The tall elf. Meets his eyes and gives him an are-you-okay nod.

Legolas startled. It was not the violence that bothered him, but the suddenness that surprised him. He whipped his head from the offending Man to the other one, who stepped in in... his defense. Not wholly needed, but very much welcome. At the end of the day it was good to see this proof that not all were so against elves.

To the nod, when his saviour reappeared, Legolas smiled, small but grateful, and approached with silent steps. It quite visibly discouraged some other folk, who having witnessed the scene, wanted to cause even more of an uproar. They sat back with some grumbles, which Legolas pointedly ignored, all his attention on the nice stranger.

"My thanks," he inclined his head, "In this sea of loathing towards my kin, it is most pleasing to stumble upon kindness."

When word reached Aragorn of the arrival of an 'tall elf', his thoughts immediately went to Legolas. He realized that the chance of meeting his elven companion again was slim to none but with both Lady Galadriel and Sam here within Skyhold, Aragorn knew that anything could be possible. This why the ranger quickly explored the never-ending twists and turns of this impressive fortress with haste. If Legolas was indeed amongst the latest band of rifters to emerge from the rift, then Aragorn would much rather meet him sooner than later.

Thedas is a hostile and violent world glorified by the the Chantry's teachings of intolerance. This realm is ill-suited for the Children of Ilúvatar. Aragorn spoken against the mistreatment of Elves but all of his words fallen upon the deaf ears of Men. The Thedasian pride themselves in their arrogance but most of all, they pride themselves in their cruelty for lesser races. More often than not, Aragorn found himself honestly loathing his fellow men for their baseless cruelty. He didn't like speaking with them and most of all, he disliked witnessing the horrors they perform.

Now making his way towards the courtyard, Aragorn paused once he saw the enormous crowd nearby. There's dozens and dozens of refugees pouring into Skyhold these days, some of them natives who've fled distant villages to flee from the darkspawn threat. The ranger hopped onto a nearby crate to get a better view. Like trying to find a needle in a haystack, Aragorn searched in vain to find a familiar face within the crowd.

Edited 2016-03-05 04:16 (UTC)

Were it Legolas alone, he would have never wound up at Skyhold, but rather he would have disappeared in this foreign and, worst of all, hostile world to carve out his own path home. But with his father at his side, he heeded his counsel, and so the both of them came.

No amount of unpleasant encounters with the Men of this world could break his back, Legolas still stood and walked proudly, fearlessly, with his hood down, revealing his hair and the elegant, leaf-shaped ears. It earned him disrespectful looks and comments, even from those seeking shelter in Skyhold, but he had neither the eye nor the ear for them. The more bold approaches were dealt with swiftly, with no thought of pity wasted for the pained cries that followed.

For a couple of moments Legolas merely stood at the gates of the keep, observing what would become a new home for him and Thranduil from now on. Grey stone, rough shapes, cold and lifeless, that was what it looked like to him. His expression reflected the thoughts, with disappointment painted clearly upon his features, at least until his gaze fell on a familiar face that did not sit with the crowd but rather stuck out far above it all. Legolas smiled, then laughed, and he startled the people passing by him when he suddenly began walking at a brisk pace.

To have friends at his side in this terrible world, it would certainly make it bearable.

Once Aragorn caught a glimpse of the elf, he knew it was him. No one in this dreadful world smiles like that especially towards him.

The ranger had endured nothing other than contempt from others. He's grown to love the land for its beauty but he honestly detests the people. Those who hold power lord it over others like a badge of honor. Such disgraceful behavior won his ire and rightfully so. He fell out of hope with the Inquisition for them jailing Galadriel and fell out of admiration for the Grey Wardens for a slew of reasons. While he had sworn to fight, Aragorn does so for the sake of staying alive. His thoughts are still in Middle-Earth and his heart with the Evenstar.

Aragorn wears a smile as he closes the gap between them. As soon as Legolas is near, he reaches for the elf's shoulder and greets him. "Mê g'ovannen, mellon." He says in elvish. This is the first time in a long time that Aragorn actually felt glee.

"Stay down," Anders hissed. At least the guy had been light. If it had been some warrior landing on top of him, Anders would be in serious pain right now.

"Low to the ground might be too much of a hassle for it to return. Unless you were looking to fight it, in which case I think there are qunari over the next ridge and you'll make their day." Probably. Not that he thinks the dragon is coming back, though. It's a dot in the sky, and that means it's probably found something far more appealing and tasty.

There was no need to tell that twice to Legolas, even in this current, slightly compromising and uncomfortable, situation, he stayed right where he was, almost frozen solid.

"Forgive me, my rush seems to have blinded my senses," he said hurriedly at long last, moving off only when he was certain the dragon was well on its way somewhere far, far away from them. Once up, on his two feet and comfortably not sinking into the piles of snow, he offered a hand to the stranger, smiling gently in apology, "But reason, I possess enough still, to not wish to fight a dragon."

And especially so since he knew a lick about the dragons of this world. Were they anything like those he knew from stories of Arda... his bow, even being a gift from the Lady Galadriel, was no match for it.

"Do you think it will return here?"

Anders gives the elf a nod and small smile back as he takes the offered hand and gets to his feet, starting to dust himself off... only to notice that the elf isn't sinking the way Anders is. He stares at the guy's feet, trying to figure out what on Thedas is going on, and nearly misses the question. There's a jerk of his head as he catches it, though.

"Do I think..." The dragon. The bloody huge dragon that just flew overhead and could decide they look like snacks. How did he forget a thing like that? Anders turns hastily, looking back toward the way the dragon had vanished before shaking his head. "No. If it was curious, it would have circled sooner. It's gone. Something's caught its interest elsewhere, or it has a reason to move onward."

He pauses, looking back at the elf. "Do you... You're standing on the snow." He's always been good at stating the obvious.

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TEST DRIVE MEME

legolas, tolkien

4. b.

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4 a.

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4a

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wildcard - Skyhold

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5a

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