TEST DRIVE MEME

[faderifting]

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.

Comments

Sera | The Age of Dragons

[arsebiscuit]

II: March of the witchhunters

"No good pissheaded arse-breathed tit-"

Whatever Sera was going to gripe out next was swallowed by her indignant yelp as her legs sank several feet into the snow, soaking her already shoddily patched breeches and effectively trapping her in place. Shitebag bitch that was making them walk out this way, through all the snow and cold and nature and...and snow. Sera was grumbling this and more at a more or less inaudible level as she struggled to pull herself back up out of the snow bank. If it wasn't for the fact the arse-nut was running around, hurting the little people just trying to live their stupid lives in the middle of all this madness...

"What sort of wonky brained idiot lives on top of a stupid mountain?"

IV: Dancing through life...

It had been too easy. Everyone had been so serious and mopey faced and it had been driving her mad. So a little fun was needed. A pinched butt here, a stolen drink there, and the place was a right sight soon enough. Sera had, of course, happily vanished to a better viewing area (with her small pile of stolen drinks). She was crouched under a table in the corner, giggling madly into her tankard as the chairs went flying. There's enough room under there for someone to join her, or she's loud enough that she can be dragged into the fray. But for now she's having fun, basking in the piss and fire that had replaced the whining and tears.

Wildcard

Run into Sera anywhere! Set the scene and I'll reply.

IV

[gatheringstorm]

That table doesn't seem to have quite enough room underneath it for Korrin to join in, but she hears the giggles from underneath when trying to maneuver around the fray. Fortunately, no one seems to want to piss off a horned woman who's at least a foot taller than them on average. So the punches and flying chairs have other targets and the Vashoth woman makes it to the table intact.

Sliding casually into an abandoned chair as though there wasn't a bar fight happening all around her, she directs her voice downward while only slightly lowering the volume. Why be subtle about it when no one's going to pay attention to them anyway? "Since that beanpole of a bartender is hiding, think you can spare one of those drinks? I'd be in your debt."

[arsebiscuit]

She was suddenly looking at legs. Not kicky legs. Or ones there to be all pokey and annoying at all. Just...shapely ones. Long ones. Enough so Sera scoots a little closer to the edge of her tiny fortress of amusement to peak out, her face ending up not too far from where the thighs themselves. Which meant, even seated, the tall woman was an even more imposing sight than normal as Sera was forced to crane her neck to see-

Well. Seeing really was believing.

"Oh...right. Not any fun to just sit and drink alone, yeah? But it's floor service. Chairs got to go. Over on someone's head works. That prick in armor's been needing it all night."

[gatheringstorm]

"Truer words have never been spoken. If I hear one more slur out of--" And then she stands upon hearing his latest shout, naturally punching down again with 'knife-ear' and 'rabbit-fucker'. "That'll do."

Timing it just so, she hurls that chair at him when his back is turned and everyone else is too busy beating the snot out of each other. That's enough send his slamming into someone else, who seems to take it personally and promptly switches targets to said prick in armor. Snickering, Korrin plops down before someone thinks to blame her. Not that anyone seems interested in picking a fight with a 'qunari' but just in case. "That ought to keep him busy for a while. Andraste's tits, this is a way more interesting night than I'd have thought it was going to be."

[arsebiscuit]

Sera needs a moment to work past the cackling in glee part of the night. There's no grace or beauty to it. In fact, some ale ends up coming out out of her nose as she rocks under her table in laughter.

"Oh- you saw his face, right? 'Blah, blah, I'm a stupid armor-face! Nothing can hurt me! Chair!'"

The cackling quiets down to snorted chuckles as she wipes her nose on the back of her sleeve.

"Chair to the back. Good one. Then fist to the face, ha!"

Okay, the laughing isn't done. But she does manage to push a drink over as she falls back into giggling again.

"Idiots."

[gatheringstorm]

That cackling and ale coming out of Sera's nose only serves to set Korrin off again, and she can't help her own burst of laughter, utterly unrepentant. She got her drink, her companion of the moment got some entertainment, everyone's happy. Well, except said prick but who cares about him? No one in this corner, that's who.

"Fucking moron. It was worth coming in just for that. I'd heard him shooting his mouth off before, but even though looming over him to make him shut up is fun at first, it gets old. This brawl gave me the perfect excuse to do what I'd wanted to do anyway. Cheers." She takes an appreciative swig of her well-earned drink.

[arsebiscuit]

"Chair!"

She giggles the word to herself as she finally calms down enough to take another sip of her drink, the taste a bit off with all the suds in her nose now. But that didn't matter. She can only see feet and knees from her position, but the cussing and men shoving each other 'round is clear enough. Stupid armor-face-with-even-stupider-armor-bootsies was still getting pummeled. It was a good night.

"Pfft, that's shite. Half the Inquisition's too busy brooding around.'Oh I hate him, oh I hate her. I'm going to post a letter on a board! Well I'm going write a stupid reply on it!'"

Sera blew as raspberry at the idea, ale drops flying out to splatter on some passing drunk's pants.

"Blowing off steam's good. Better to get the punches out here than it bubbling over when you're busy hitting some nug-humping demon worshiper, innit."

[gatheringstorm]

'Chair' is going to be the new 'titsicles', the thing that sets off another amused snort and almost causes her to choke on her ale. Thankfully she manages to avoid that since who knows when the bartender's going to stop being a coward and toss these morons out. Korrin would do it herself, but...it's free entertainment, at least for now. If they go too far or the drinks run out, then she'll reconsider.

"Heh, you're not wrong about any of that. There's been way too much brooding and not enough fun. Not to say that there aren't reasons, but people need to be snapped out of it before it spirals into something nasty." Like the brawl after the Herald's funeral. It still makes her sick to think about the disrespect shown, and that she could have easily been part of it.

"And I know I'm not immune. So if I'm being a hotheaded dumbass -again- do tell me before it gets to the 'chair in my face' stage. I swear I can shut the fuck up and listen...sometimes."

[arsebiscuit]

Sera took a long swig of her drink- okay, she finished her drink. Entirely. The burped into her sleeve before looking at the- oh, yes. The qunari. All big and muscley and...mm.

"Not sure I could get a chair up to your face. Jar of bees, sure. But you're so...well. I heard they came big as you. But didn't believe it. Still. Fired up's better than gloomy and grim. Just throw some pies next time instead, eh? That's funny."

[gatheringstorm]

That was fast, but it's not like Korrin's going to judge. She's steadily draining her own, because human brews aren't nearly as strong as her people's drinks and because...well, because she can. Dealing with bears and bandits and idiots all day means she'll do as she pleases now.

The thought of throwing pies gets a chuckle out of her as she raises her mug to that suggestion. "Whatever it takes, right? Those pies will be going to a good cause. Though tossing a jar of bees in and slamming the door is tempting, for all those 'ox' comments when they think I can't hear them. Some people just don't appreciate my big looming self even though I'm not trying to invade or convert people or whatever it is real qunari do."

[arsebiscuit]

"Cause terror and trouble, yeah? Like proper elves bow and 'oh, missus, oh, so sorry for being in the way, ma'am. Please let me ask the tree for forgiveness and throw my worthless self off a cliff, miss.'"

She was scowling into her cup now. No good, that. Caring about what stupid people thought a proper whatever should be. Muttering about it was even worse. Clearly the ale wasn't doing the right job. She held up a finger, gesturing the tall lady to hold on for one bit, then rolled out from under the table- and ha! Whiskey. Only a few tables away, forgotten thanks to the owner entering the brawl. Better than moping, that. She was, maybe just a teeny tiny bit, showing off as she dipped and dodged and was a dexterous queen all around as she returned to under the table without a drop spilled. And with all that ale in her from before, at that.

Alright. She was entirely showing off. The lady may be all big and lovely, but Sera was flexible. It counted for something.

"But that's rubbish. Besides the rest, Ox horns don't look like that at all. I think. Those are the...pulling carts ones, innit?"

City elf. She left the livestock to the rural professionals.

[gatheringstorm]

That scowling almost prompts a response from Korrin, who doesn't want to see the mood of the evening sour if she can possibly help it. That Sera takes care of it herself by snagging whiskey is much appreciated and that she does it in such obvious, fluid skill gets an admiring grin from the Vashoth woman. Showing off is totally acceptable, and Korrin would be a hypocrite if she decried its use, given her own antics.

"Ha! That was brilliant. Those stumbling oafs deserve to have the better stuff taken away from them when there's clearly someone who can handle it better. Besides, who among them is even going to be awake to appreciate it after this?

And yeah, more or less. Some of us have horns like that, but there's a shit-ton of variety. We definitely don't all look the same." And her horns are far more awesome than a dumb ox's, or at least she thinks so.

[arsebiscuit]

"They're all...curly cue."

With her freehand, Sera traces an air shape of Korrin's horns in front of her, very clearly agreeing with the awesome sentiment in general. She could've supported the normal ox type, but these ones were nice. Made it hard to think who'd be wonky enough to bug a mountain with horns, but Sera knew better than to underestimate stupid. The drinks are catching up, though, and her next giggle is clearly more than a little edged in drunk.

"But you gotta cost the Inquisition a fortune in pillows, eh?"

2

[ombranera]

"The sort that does not wish to be bothered by much of anyone." Zevran drew to a stop, offering this rather creatively offensive elf a hand out of the drift. He had grant her points for originality- even Oghren had not carved a blue streak quite so well or with half as much speed. No, his swearing had been slow and slurred, much like the dwarf himself up until the moment he was angry enough to sprint. "Though that might include us as well- is Skyhold not on the top of a mountain of sorts?"

[arsebiscuit]

"Pfft. We only frigging go off and bother the ones that have it coming, don't we."

Sera wasn't much for traveling with elves, but even if he had the stupid face paintings he at least had the sense to be wearing boots in all this. So he couldn't be so elfy. Chances of lectures on respecting nature and blah, blah, blah seemed low. So she only gives him a wary look for a moment before accepting the help. Though truth be told, even if he was the elfiest elf to ever mope down the pike she'd have taken it. Just stupid to sit in the snow when there's a way out, no matter the source. Just made it easier if it was someone else.

"If this snowhumper kept to herself I wouldn't be freezing my perky tits off, yeah?"

[ombranera]

"That's right. The Inquisition, only punching upwards." In a stark contrast to the rest of the world for the most part- though how long that will last remains to be seen. At the first moment it was advantageous to punch down he was certain their tune would change. Until then? He could work comfortably enough around them. Even if it meant trudging through the snow in the ass end of nowhere. Braced against what little solid ground there was, Zevran hauled up and back onto the steadier path.

And took a look at said 'perky tits' as best he could through snow and cold and multiple layers of clothing.

"Best I can tell they are still on your person, but if you require help checking once we are at camp..."

[arsebiscuit]

"Ugh. Not even."

But he'd said the magic words, so it's a lighter tone than most elfy boys would get. Punching up. That was what she'd signed up for. Even if she hadn't really known just how far up that would be. Cory-thingy and his idiot dreams. They really needed to take care of all that so they could get back to the problems that made sense again.

She dusted the snow off her legs and gave enough small groan as she looked down at the mess. Soaked through. She'd be numb up to her arse by the time they were done with this. And not a good bed to steal into in sight.

"But you're a Friendly type, eh?"

She didn't know if Red Jenny was much around...whatever his voice came from. No where she'd been. But not knowing everyone was part of the plan. Made it harder for some noble to have his way with some weak link.

[ombranera]

"You prefer a softer touch, yes?" He crackled a laugh, this wasn't the first he'd found the sort and been summarily turned down. Not as common a thing in the South as it was in the warmer North, but not so strange as he might bat an eye. Especially if it meant they could admire women together, if she was of a mind.

"In more ways than one- it has been some time since I've last run into a Jenny. Though to be fair it was less 'running into' and more 'running errands for' in Denerim about a decade ago. There are not quite so many friends in Antiva, alas. I suspect the Crows either leave them cautious or snap up the sorts for their own use." Which was a bitter shame. Those that made good Jennies had similar traits in what made for a good Crow- but with more freedom and joy in the acts of mayhem.

Still, it was nice to see that the organization persisted and continued to employ sneaky, smirky sorts.

"Friend of a friend, perhaps."

[arsebiscuit]

"I like women. Soft's got nothing to do with it, yeah? Bet you've been tossed around by some."

Antiva. Bird country. He was right, weren't that many Friends out there, she didn't think. Pity, seeing how the ones up top there liked to stab down instead of just punching. But that was just another problem on the long list of ones to get back to after the world stopped being mad.

She looked out over the endless, frozen, stupid wasteland with all the sharp pointy mountains in the distance and gave a sigh. Helping the little people. Had to get back to that, even if they were idiot enough to settle in a place like this. Sera looked over at the elf and jerked her head towards the mountain before she started walking again.

"Right. Well, you're on my good side for now, I guess. We'll see if that keeps up. Let's go put some arrows in a frigid tit...ah, you've got a name, right?"

[ombranera]

"More than a few!" Ah, fond memories of woken with broad shoulders and strong hands. There are days when he missed Ferelden keenly. Some of the women were as broad as the men and twice as lovely for it. There was something to be said of a lady that could break you as well as any man- if not better.

Though there was more than one way to break an elf. Cold could do that quicker than most, if they did not find either the alleged lair of this frosty mage and get her sorted, the better. Their options were limited but Zevran was not terribly inclined to mercy with the way she had been menacing the travelers and refugees wandering this back road. Nobles and merchants- different story.

It was a sentiment he suspected his new Jenny friend would appreciate.

"I shall endeavor to remain as such." He kept pace easily enough, sketching a short, courtly gesture in lieu of a bow. "Zevran Arainai, at your service."

[arsebiscuit]

"Gah, cut the prissy noble bunk. This trip's shit enough."

She wrinkled her nose up at him, then kept the expression in place as she started trudging through the snow again. Bowing and servicing like she needed that kind of mess. Better to let a thousand fantasies play through her head of mage-kabobs and roasted bitch and all the many creative ways she could make a cave explode into a nice, warm burning inferno. Then dance around it, cackling, as feeling came back to her feet and ears.

"There's reasons I never left Denerim much last time I was here. Not any kind of living, is this? Frozen, terrible..."

[ombranera]

"Prissy Antivan bunk. There is a difference. Noble bunk would require less talking and a lot more attempting to remain invisible and appealing." They liked their elves lovely and silent in the noble houses of Antiva. It made his work simpler while he had it and frustrating when he was simply trying to make his way through.

"Snow, ice, possibly dragons. Things I miss most about the North: How warm it is even in winter. You would do well there, I think. Less cold, less 'noble bunk' if you are near the docks, and lovely, lovely women." With warm hands and warmer hearths. What he would not give for a proper fire right now.

[arsebiscuit]

"Did Orlais for...too long, maybe. But I'd like a noble here, now. Kick his arse up the mountain. Get some snow, make his balls as blue as his blood."

That was a good fantasy too, enough it gets a chuckle even as she struggles through another snow bank. The idea of lovely sailor women was in close competition, but she was all the bloody stabby kinda lust right now. The other kind could wait for camp.

"Blue balls. Good one. Keeping it for the next time I get some stuffy Important person with their breeches off down here."

[ombranera]

"Orlesian nobles are more fun if you have the right leverage. The faces they make when you do not bow and scrape? I think I made a man turn purple last week. It was a thing of beauty." Challenging their narrow perception of what an elf should be never failed to delight.

Especially when they were attempting to purchase his services.

"Do you mind if I borrow that?" A common thing with Oghren, a decade ago. With how human and serious most of the Inquisition was he hadn't expected to find similarly creative minds. "It rolls off the tongue nicely."

[arsebiscuit]

"The best's when only half the face's showing. Smug little fake gold eyes and a giant gaping mouth. Serves them right. Pretending their face's too lovely-dovey to let the little people even look at 'em."

Not to mention all the talking. She must have wasted a year of her life just waiting for them to shut up so she could slip in and do her service. All the more stolen from People people by the arseholes on top.

"But I don't know. Rolling? I think frozen balls would stick!"

Ah. Even in the snow she still makes herself laugh. Hopefully loudly enough the witchy woman would just hear them and come down the mountain instead of making her climb all the way up.