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allthisshitisweird2016-03-02 10:14 pm
faderifting) wrote in allthisshitisweird2016-03-02 10:14 pm
Entry tags:
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.
Balthier | Final Fantasy XII | Native AU
Dangerous trade routes were always good for a bit of 'found' wealth. Usually, this was at the expense of others who had run into bad luck. Maybe the goods had been left in a hurry or maybe their original owners had perished in the snow. Regardless of why or how they'd come to be abandoned, Balthier's happy to gather them up and lug them back to town to turn a profit. So, staying close to the edges of the ice, he combs the snowbanks for abandoned cargo on one of the ingenious little sailed sleds.
(a) He hadn't exactly had much luck, but the oddly fashioned sled and sail reminds him a bit of being at sea. The exhilaration and the rush of cold air on his face are a wonderful distraction to the marked lack of valuables waiting to be found and he finds himself grinning away as the wind carries the little vessel skidding across the ice. Like the sea however, the ice carries it's own danger and it only takes one unseen rock to send him and the little sled flying with an undignified shout into one of the snowbanks.
(b) Finally, a glint of something buried in one of the snowbanks catches his eye, something distinctly not rock, ice or snow. He sails the sled as close as he can, but has to cover the last few yards on foot, frown deepening as he approaches. A weapon, and beside it a person. A person who looks very much alive.
"Excuse me, are you alright?"
4. Tavern
While not running cargo or hunting the banks of the frozen lakes for abandoned goods, Balthier spends him time at the local tavern. The booze isn't great and the patrons can be even worse, but the fire's warm and he's drunk worse. Sometimes there's even live entertainment, like tonight. He cringes from the safety of the table he's sat at in the back as a bottle collides with another man's head and it all goes down hill from there.
He spots someone else entranced by the violence, or maybe just surprised. Either way, they seem to be in need of a seat, so Balthier clears his throat to get their attention before motioning to one of the empty chairs across from him.
"I won't take a swing at you. Promise," He teases with a charming smirk.
[or dat wildcard!]
4 - Tavern
But of course, the tavern he chose would somehow end up with a fight starting. At least he could safely say he had not been the cause of it (and he had been the cause of many before). Still, it's rather fascinating watching a fight when you aren't in the middle of it, especially considering the different races (he assumed races) present in the bar.
He turns when he hears the clearing of Balthier's throat, flashing his own charming smile instinctively as he takes the invitation and sits, deciding after a second to scoot the chair around so he was sitting kiddy-corner to the other man to better dodge potential thrown bottles.
"Is it always like this around here?" he asked, brushing a few remaining snowflakes from his hair.
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"Well, I'm no native, but every night I've been here, yes, it's been 'like this'. Just wait," He nods toward the fight, which seemed to have halted just as suddenly as it'd began. The initial guy who'd been smacked by the bottle now looked to be unconscious and bizarrely everyone seemed to settle down and go back to drinking, two men stepping out of seemingly nowhere to drag the unconscious guy off. "See? And now everyone is friends again. Simple as that.
They're a strange bunch here. Takes some getting used to."
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Kirk watched the proceedings, a little impressed at how it had all worked out and the sheer efficiency of the bouncers. That spoke of having done this a number of times, which said a thing or two about the daily routines of this bar. He supposed they might shuck him out into the cold, though he hoped not. Maybe some closet. Still not comfortable, but less likely to result in frostbite.
"You said you weren't a native," Kirk turned his attention back to his companion, cupping his flagon of beer and sipping the liquid, not sure what to think of it as it washed down his throat. "From whereabouts do you come from then, if you don't mind me asking?" The more information on this strange world he could get without immediately outing himself the better.
no subject
To anyone from Thedas it was probably obvious. Not only was his accent all wrong, but his gaudy clothes, myriad of earrings and jewelry and even the way he held himself were all easily enough that few people would mistake him as a local. Under normal circumstances, he'd almost feel insulted, but his new drinking mate seemed like a bit of an oddity himself.
"I used to have a ship. Traveled all over. From everywhere and nowhere," He said with a subtle, good natured wink. Keeping the details regarding where he was from vague wasn't an accident, but in exchange for skipping over that bit of information he offered the implication that he was either a successful merchant, or more likely, a pirate.
no subject
At this point, Kirk had just barely grasped the different names for the races - humans, dwarves, elves, and something he thought he was hearing as "Ki-Nar-i" but he could be entirely wrong on that point. He wasn't yet confident enough to go and ask one of the horned men or women about it and give himself away just yet. What he could tell from Balthier was that his clothing did seem of a higher quality than most others around, but that could mean anything since he had no understanding of the local economy or ranking systems.
His heart nearly fluttered in hope at the mention of a ship, but he clamped it down. Of course the other did not mean a star ship, he meant one for the water. Again, that did not mean particularly anything to Kirk as of yet, but at the least he ventured it meant the man was familiar with the sea so it narrowed down possibilities based on what he had observed of the level of technological advancement around him - sailor, merchant, fisherman, or pirate.
"Ah, well, if you've been all over, perhaps you could tell me something of a place called "Skyhold"?" he asked hopefully, taking another draught of his beer to warm his insides.
no subject
The Inquisition was certainly no secret, neither were it's whereabouts, and plenty of people seemed to be flocking toward the old fortress either to help fight, to help those fighting, or in a hopeful business venture. It seemed as though every group wanted some kind of representation there, if only so they could point and say 'look, we helped bring order back to Thedas too'. Mages and former templars fighting alongside assassins and Qunari. These were strange times indeed.
"You're not far. If you've a horse or some other way to travel it's probably only a day's ride. Maybe two," The pirate is obviously curious about Kirk's reasons for wanting to go, but prying meant that he should be willing to open up as well, and in short, he wasn't.
no subject
"I was told it was a place to go to get answers," he said by way of explanation, hoping that would set his companion at ease and not start unpleasantness later. In his lap he pressed his thumb against the green gem in his palm, hidden beneath his glove, the flesh still sore where it had been embedded.
"And if you're walking?" he asked, because he doubted he could afford a horse. He might be able to somehow barter for supplies, and unless there were towns between here and Skyhold, he would need to camp. Hopefully he remembered everything from survival training... "Are there more towns between here and Skyhold?"
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"Answers?" He raises an eyebrow, curiosity piqued, "That's a new one. Usually, people are making the trek to Skyhold to join, because they support the Inquisition."
He doesn't push further than that, nonchalantly taking another drink as he leaned his chair back against the wall, propping it up on two legs.
"If you're walking you better hope you don't get lost and freeze... or get eaten by bears. There aren't really towns on the way, no. But there are a few small camps. If I were you I'd see about heading that way with a merchant or someone else. Plenty of people running supplies up that way and plenty of soldiers returning from patrol."
3a
As he bolts after, staff pulled off his back, that's when he starts judging. There could be bones broken, things torn, why do people do things like that? Quickly he starts shoving snow out of the way.
"Are you all right? Talk with me."
no subject
He's still lying where he'd fallen when he hears the snow crunching nearby. Footsteps. So someone's seen him make a fool of himself. How fortuitous. He squints up at his 'savior' as he tries to flick some of the snow out from under his vest before it melts, cringing and freezing as he shifts and hears a crack.
"It's broken," He moans, but doesn't seem to be in any pain.
Sitting up, he turns to look at what he'd landed on, the sail. The mast and sail might be broken, but luckily the only thing wounded was his pride.
"This day just keeps getting better," His attention returns to the man who'd come to his rescue, "Please tell me you didn't walk here."
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"What, walking's too slow for you? I'd think you might be in a mood for slow." Anders stands and holds out a hand, offering to help the guy up. "But no. I didn't walk here. It's far too cold for that. There are horses not too far away, but before I can lead you there, I need to drop off a few herbs at a house at the top of this hill. Would you care to join me?"
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"Slow doesn't have to mean walking," He's praying for a dog sled. Anything would be better than trudging back to Redcliffe through the snow. He sighs in relief when Anders mentions horses, exhaling the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in anticipation. "Thank the Maker.
That's fine. A short walk to the top of the hill seems like a fair trade for a ride back to Redcliffe - or wherever you're going," Alright, so the speed at which he'd clarified that he'd be happy for a ride out of here regardless of destination did make him sound a little more desperate than he would have liked, but freezing to death in the snowdrifts once the sun set was a real danger.
no subject
"I can get you nearly to Redcliffe, drop you off about ten minutes walk out?" There are too many mages there. He can't go in, the danger is far too high. Not like he can really explain that to someone he's just met.
Anders tilts his head toward the hill and takes a first step, ready to start heading up the hill if the other guy is.
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"I've no qualms with that," He says nonchalantly and starts trudging up the hill through the deep snow beside the man, "Do you live out here? Along one of these lakes?"
He wouldn't be surprised to find out that there were small huddles of farming settlements around, but beside Redcliffe, the closes town he could think of was Lothering. Or maybe the man was here for the Inquisition, so like so many others.
no subject
He makes a turn as he finally finds the path that's buried under snow. It doesn't make much of a difference, really, except that there won't be any hidden holes on the short-enough way up.
"No, I've been at Skyhold. With the Inquisition. Just as cold, but fewer large, ravenous animals. Thus far. You? Redcliffe?"
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"Decent money in it, as long as you can avoid going head first into a snow bank, and the bears," He gives Anders a smirk, though it's probably lost on the mage as they both focus on trudging through the snow and up the hill.
"I've gone on a few of their 'expeditions', but soldiering really isn't my forte."
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4
As the human gets her attention, she eyes him curiously before glancing to the empty chair. Well, why not? Her previous seat now has a couple making out on it, and she isn't so heartless as to disrupt them when there's still room. She smirks, sitting down at last. "I can take a punch, but thanks for that. It'd be nice to finish what I just bought, even though I've had far better."
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"Not often you see Qunari this far south, is it? I didn't think you lot liked the cold much. Not that anyone would blame you," It isn't meant as anything but friendly, idly conversation. His assumption was that she, like so many others, was here because of the Inquisition, or maybe she'd come for the mage rebellion and was now stuck in Redcliffe. Either way, a Qunari here stuck out like a sore thumb, but for him, it reminded him fondly of Llomerryn.
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If there was ever a cause he could understand fighting for, trying to keep the world from ending would be one, so it made sense to him why people from all over Thedas were backing the Inquisition. After all, they'd been the only ones who had been able to do anything about the rifts. Just because he could understand it, didn't mean he could make himself do the same, and meeting someone else who was here for less than selfless reasons was always a pleasure.
"So, how long have you been here? I heard they started at a different stronghold. Or rather less of a stronghold and more of a camp. Haven or some such?"
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"Since the beginning then... before the beginning," He relaxes back as he finishes what's left of his drink, "Things seem to be gathering speed though. I've not been here long at all, but you'd have to be blind not to notice the constant influx of people."
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She nods after taking another swig, leaning back. "Now that the Hinterlands is less of a clusterfuck, it's a good gathering point. Many go on to Skyhold with supplies, but some stick around for whatever reason. Maybe they've grown fond of all the Breach-addled bears."
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Easing his chair forward and back onto all four legs, he gets to his feet, carefully smoothing and readjusting his sleeves.
"In need of a top up yet?" He gestures with his own stein just to make his intentions perfectly clear.
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