allthisshitisweird | 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Mention of Bull has her wrinkling her nose, and she'd rather not dwell on the Ben-Hassrath more than absolutely need be. She's not here to make enemies, but any true Qunari is only an ally in the loosest possible sense. Actual trust is only reserved for those outside the Qun.

"I already have one; no Qun or breaking away from it, for me. It's Korrin, by the way, but I suppose you can call me 'Death From Below' if you really want. It is sort of catchy. Varric calls me Freckles. That works, too."

"Freck-"

Excuse Sera, as she comes in a little too close to Korrin's face to be considered respecting any kind of personal space as she evaluates that nickname. Or don't excuse her. Doesn't much matter to her. She will eventually get on to giving her own name after this very important evaluation.

"The stories don't talk about that, yeah? But there they are. You got 'em too, all dotty and cute."

Even when Korrin's stone-cold sober, she's not all that protective about her personal space unless someone's being an ass. Which Sera isn't, not in her opinion. So she's free to look, though that assessment gets her laughing.

"Blame my dad, he has tons of them. And shh, don't say that too loud. I'm a mercenary, I'm not supposed to be 'cute'." Hmph, the indignity. Though she's having too good a time right now to truly be affronted.

"And who says there's no being both? Tch, 'how we're supposed to be.'"

The mocking of someone else talking is done in a higher octave than her normal voice, leaving open the question just who she's impersonating. But whatever. The point help. A mercenary could be cute, a queen could be ugly, it all just happened as it happened.

"World's supposed to be sane, yeah? You can be as cutesy-wootsy as I please."

"'Cutesy-wootsy'...Maker, that's even worse." Though she's grinning, so there's that. It's not often that she -or anything about her, really- is referred to as cute. Some part of her is flattered even as she wouldn't care for that to become a common description. "But fair enough, living according to everyone's expectations is exhausting anyway. The Inquisition's been pretty good about that, actually. No seems to give a fuck what you are or are 'supposed to be' as long as you're pulling your weight now. I can live with that."

"What you do, yeah. Herald was a good one about that."

It was, if she even admitted it, one of the reasons she'd been off on Jenny business so long. The Herald off and dying like that. It wasn't supposed to be that way. They were supposed to be one of the good ones on top. At least for a bit. But while it had a bit of a sad edge now, she still smiled at the fact it had held on.

"But look at all this. More fun's needed. Show how we're all the same kind of stupid. Whole Inquisition feels like a funeral that never ended. Let's all this kinda shite build up."

Korrin's smile also has a sad tinge. She was there ever since the Conclave blew up, and while she didn't know the Herald personally, the Vashoth mage saw the effect her actions had on everyone. And then one horrible night took that all away, their Herald and their base. It still hurts to think about, but she's not going to get all weepy in the middle of a bar fight.

So she'll do her best to shove those feelings aside and nod in firm agreement with Sera. "Hell, yeah. If you want company for that, I'm in. It's better than griping about what I can't help, any day."

"Ha! Right."

She crawls that half foot over to Korrin, coming up on her knees and resting her hands on the woman's legs (oh, and they were as hard as the looked, Andraste's tits) so she could actually get her face up close enough to meet her eyes.

"I've got a plan."

As not-sober and casual as Korrin is anyway, Sera's invasion of personal space doesn't seem to bother her at all. Instead, she raises an eyebrow and looks interested at that statement.

"Yeah? Go on...."

"First, we need out of here, yeah?"

She waves vaguely, her whole coordination starting to get a bit thrown off, towards the door.

"Think you can do it?"

Korrin eyes the door for a moment, making her own silent assessment, before she nods. "I'm not so deep in my cups that I can't manage that. And if you need a lift, I can bring you along, too." It's the least she can do for the evening's entertainment.

"Yes!"

It's loud enough that, were the bar not currently out and out in a full brawl, it would have drawn the attention of all in the room. As it is, she just punched up into the table with her enthusiasm at getting a lift, cackling at the pain.

"Just the thing for The Plan."

She snickers and gets to her feet. "I could make us go faster with Fade Step, but I'm not sober enough to guarantee that will end as well as it usually does." Not all of her scars are from battle. Some of them were gained while mixing drinks and magic. "Alright, then, climb aboard." She'll crouch so that Sera can test her awesome shoulder-rides for herself.

Edited 2016-03-08 02:50 (UTC)

Sera hesitates for a half-second. Mage? The tall, pretty thing was a magic thingy? That was...huh. But she wasn't gonna do any. Said so herself. Just running and real things, no sparkles. So she can climb on. For now. Any sign of dazzling and she'll jump.

"No woogidie for what you can do normal like, yeah?"

"Sometimes, that's the best part of showing off. Just like it is when fighting these assholes. Sure, magic works, but it's fun to throw a punch because no one ever expects it from a mage." Those skinny types in robes...no, she doesn't have much in common with them. Anyway, once Sera's situated, she straightens. "Alright, keep a lookout for any flying chairs or tankards!"

And she's off, weaving around tables and fallen tankards and people. It's a delicate balance, but she's as good as her word about being careful. No one's fallen off her shoulders yet and she'd like to keep that record.

She wants to take a moment to fret on this whole mage topic, but then they're on the move and she's too busy shrieking with laughter. She's too high up to grab some more drinks or the like as they bull rush past, but she gets a few slaps to backs of random heads in.

Right. She could get used to this.

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