TEST DRIVE MEME!

[faderifting]

WHAT A GLOOORIOUS FEELING

WE'RE STILL IN THE HINTERLANDS

How’s the weather, Inquisition? Terrible. Heavy rainfall pelts the plains and the mountains, four straight days of it! Dark clouds block out the sun. It may begin to feel like there’s no end to the storms in sight. When darkness falls, cold evening temperatures turn that rain frigid. Your boots, your socks, they’re soaked through. Everyone smells like wet wool.

And as if all that weren’t enough: the increased rainfall loosens patches of mud and shale, causing mudslides.

---

1. We’re not in Orzammar anymore…

A recent group of dwarven traders bearing fine crafts and goods were inbound for Skyhold, ready to flood the markets with their wares. Instead, they got flooded out.

Yes, word has reached the Inquisition that the traders have been unfortunately detained by the weather and they are now in need of a rescue. Dare you venture out into the lashing rain and sliding mud to rescue the traders?

If you do so dare, you’ll find some of the traders to be exceedingly grateful for your efforts, ready to bestow handsome rewards on you, O Brave Soul -- just as soon as you’ve escorted them safely back to Skyhold. Or you might find a cluster of more disagreeable traders, grumpy at the water in their boots and the loss of their goods. Some of those goods might still be rescuable, if you want to wade out into a mud field to retrieve a fallen chest, or tug an errant terrified donkey back onto what’s passing for dry road these days.

As you carry these treasures back to their masters, or back to Skyhold, you might consider helping yourself to a sampling of the wares on your way back. After all, your reward might not be adequate, and you are risking your life for these ungrateful sons of mothers. Just don’t get caught. These traders don’t look kindly on thieves, and frayed tempers snap easily.

Feel free to get stuck on your way to the rescue, too. Weather out the storm with a fellow do-gooder. These days, the rescuers might need rescuing just as much.

2. Are you mad? That’s twelve year old scotch!

In Skyhold and the surrounding tent towns, what with the confusion and the panic and the scramble for high ground, market stalls are left unattended and wares are ripe for the taking. For some, temptation proves to be too much. Where there’s disaster, there’s often looting! A few vendors defend their own wares, and those that can’t make desperate entreaties for assistance. Bandits! Thieves!

Are you a brave and hale friend to the Inquisition and to good honest trade, ready to defend the wares of the waterlogged merchants? Or maybe your sticky fingers spot a tempting treasure too great to ignore. If they didn’t want it stolen, they should have taken it with them! Watch out for that Qunari metalsmith with the mean right hook. He’s not to be trifled with, and his blow will leave you toothless in the mud.

3. I gotta go, Julia, we got bears.

The rainfall has disturbed more than the mud. Bears, resting in their caves, have found their caves to be too damp for their liking, and they’ve taken to the open air to vent their spleens. Some people say that the bears are as frightened as you are, but when you’re faced with a six hundred pound beast with huge pointy teeth, their innocence is a little harder to keep in perspective.

The tents surrounding greater Skyhold are especially worried by rogue bears. Make a stand against them, or else help evacuate a threatened campsite. Mudwrestling a bear is a great way to impress the ladies, or the gentlemen… but no one will blame you for beating a hasty retreat.

4. We got 12 skins of water, 56 ales, two vodkas, four whiskeys, six bottles of wine, tequila, hazelnut paste, cheese, bread, eggs, bananas, apples, bacon, steaks, pancakes, dry grain, milk, sweet tomato sauce, half a pudding, half-ounce Sour Wine, 3 1/2 grams Grand Inquisitor Kush, one ounce of 'shrooms, 15 ecstasy potions, a smutty woodcut, a bat…

TIME TO HUNKER DOWN. In the tavern, the barkeep is handing out free spiced wine to anyone who takes refuge behind her door. The din of conversation and lutesong makes a fine lullabye for the careworn traveler, and you might find yourself inadvertently dropping off to sleep. Or maybe someone’s fallen asleep on you.

Who can blame the slumberers, finally safe and warm and dry? In the tavern, the fires have been built up to ward off the chill and the damp, but relaxation is a little more difficult these days. You really have to elbow your way in there to get close to that warmth. Once you get close enough, you’ll find that the hearths are taken up with dozens and dozens of wet socks and wetter boots, steaming gently as they dry. Be disgusted if you want, or else peel off your own and go barefoot while you wait.

Hey! What’s going on over there? Someone’s taking one of your socks! Stop, thief!

If you can’t make it to the tavern, you might find yourself holed up somewhere a little more unlikely. The limited space within Skyhold means there aren’t a lot of free rooms. That door you shoulder open in desperation might have an owner already. Intrusions aren’t always unwelcome, but beware of what -- or who! -- you might find.

5. Lots of fish… and lots of weather.

WILDCARD. Whatever you do, just remember: there’s a lot of rain, you’re very wet, and if you’re feeling amorous, keep in mind that everyone smells like wet wool. We cannot stress this enough.

Comments

A Wild Blackwall Appears!

[scalethewall]

III
The steep rise in soldiers around the Hinterlands hadn't escaped Blackwall's notice. The few locals he spoke to had told him they were Inquisition forces, but rumors about what their true intentions were was more muddied. Naturally, he was wary of them, keeping to the more remote areas of the Hinterlands. Despite being off the beaten path, there seemed to be no shortage of people who needed help in this constant rain.

No shortage of people needing help, and no shortage of bears.

The traveler, who seemed to be struggling up a muddy slope, was easy to spot, though through the rain it was difficult to tell whether it was an armed bandit or a farmer. The hulking bear hadn't been so easy, the beast almost seemed to take shape as it emerged from the trees only yards from the person.

"Hey!" Blackwall tried to get their attention. For the moment it didn't matter who the person was, instinctively breaking into a jog in their direction and pulling out his sword, "Bear!"

IV
These were exactly the kind of places he tried to avoid. Taverns were full of people who talked too much, people who pried and tried to figure you out. His gambeson had been soaked through for three days straight though and getting a fire started outside had proved impossible, not to mention most of the drier caves were now occupied by rather grumpy bears. So, here he was. The tankard of ale didn't exactly seem unwelcome however.

V
[Choose your own adventure. He's damp, but, as always, he's quick to help anyone who seems to be in need of it. I'm assuming he hasn't joined the Inquisition yet, so he'll be a little cautious, but curious around them. BUT if anyone wants assumed CR for TDM fun times just let me know and I can switch things up and assume he is part of the Inquisition etc.]

3

[ombranera]

"I have a job for you in the Hinterlans, Zevran, it will be fun, Zevran, think of the fresh air, Zevran." Grumbling under his breath while slogging through the mud and hills was NOT fun and the next time Leliana requested such a run from him he would tell her where to stick the order.

With her nugs. Not anywhere on her person. He valued his life too much to state otherwise. But this had not been fun or invigorating ten years ago and time had not made the experience any more desirable. After fighting to loosen one of his boots from the mud (and failing, and these are his good boots) he swore violently- though not so much that he had not heard the bear. Or the man yelling at him to move. Caught ankle deep in a mire Zevran could not exactly flee. "I can SEE that!"

[scalethewall]

Getting the traveler's attention hadn't been the only reason for the yelling. No, he'd been mainly hoping to get the bear's focus on him. With the elf hollering back at him, the bear seemed to hesitate, uncertain which of them to target.

Luckily, it bought them both a few precious seconds, enough time for Blackwall to close the distance between them and make it very clear to the bear that he was the threat here.

With another loud shout, this one simply wordless determination, he takes a few swings at the beast and starts backing it away from the man, giving him time to escape, or at least get himself unstuck from the mud.

[ombranera]

One more solid yank and he frees one boot, scrambling to pull the second from the mud. Slightly more mobile he had room and time enough to draw a dagger from his belt and hurl it end over end just past the man and his shield (possibly hitting the bear but as there was a man and a shield between the two of them that was difficult to tell)- to buy himself one moment more. Hip deep in bones and blood and flesh he has been but nothing quite clung and attempted to drown him like the mud of Ferelden.

Zevran stumbled free, staggering away from the muddy path in an attempt to flank the beast. Stealth would not be an option.

[scalethewall]

The dagger flying past his face unexpectedly earns Zevran the start of a grumbled curse, cut off as he refocuses on the claws backed by 600 lbs of muscle they've pissed off.

The rogue, if that's what he is, will sneak around and do his thing, Blackwall's job is to keep the bear's attention on himself, which he'd been planning on doing anyway, and patiently chip away at it. He lands a few more calculated hits, moving strategically to avoid the bear's swipes at him. Getting hit is still ill advised, even when you have a shield.

[ombranera]

Right.

Fighting a bear. It is not entirely unlike fighting an Ogre (well they smell better than darkspawn) or a very small dragon. Not. Terribly small, but smaller than say a High Dragon. Definitely smaller than an Archdemon. And yet Zevran still finds he'd rather be on the working end of a ballista instead of attempting to sneak about and find an opening. While none is forthcoming the old tactic comes to mind and he, without a better plan-

Runs and leaps upon the beast's back, burying his daggers deep into the flesh of it's neck.

...He has had better plans, to be certain. A killing blow that does not quite kill leaves him clinging for dear life while the Bear roars in agony.

[scalethewall]

Hey, at least it was just the one bear... for now. Things could definitely be worse.

Blackwall focused on the task at hand, fighting the bear as if he were alone. After the close shave with the dagger, he'd honestly lost track of the rogue, which suited him just fine. The man hadn't seemed to be hurt and hadn't been mauled by a bear, which was the important thing.

The sudden movement from behind the bear is very worrying and Blackwall nearly gets a massive paw to the face as he goes to the trouble of trying to get a better look at what new enemy he's dealing with when he realizes it's the rogue. Well, that's a pleasant surprise and definitely not a second bear coming to join the party. It's difficult to tell whether the daggers serve the killing blow or whether Blackwall's sword does. Zevran's attack gives him the opening he needs to drive the blade through the beasts chest, and it's all over. With one last roar the bear falls back down to all fours, takes a lumbering step forward and then collapses.

"Not bad," The warden says with an appreciative nod, working his blade loose from the creature, "You're not injured, are you?"

3.

[wickedchase]

There have been more than just enough of unusual things he's witnessed and been part of, but it's always the damned bears. If there is one thing to be true, it is that the bloody beasts will never go extinct. Somehow, there's always gaggles of them about, and they're always attacking.

Today is apparently no different.

"Son of a--" The elf almost sounds exasperated instead of immediately afraid. He glances over his shoulder and there it is, ready to charge and do its bear thing.

Good thing this bearded (!!) fellow has a sword ready.

"This happens more often than you'd think!" The mage jogs away, possibly to duck behind Blackwall. He'll get around to he spellcasting eventually.

[scalethewall]

Luckily, the traveler seemed to be in good shape aside from being soaked. He also has the good sense to move behind Blackwall, making the bear's attention shift to the man with the shield and armor.

He grunts, presumably in agreement, at the elf's comment. He knew all too well how aggressive the bears in the area were. At least, for the moment, there was only one of them.

Experience told him to be patient, but when a strike at the bear's neck presents itself, Blackwall goes for it. A mistake, especially in the rain. The blow lands, but with less force than he'd hoped for as his footing slips in the slick grass. It proves an even bigger mistake as the hit just enrages the bear, who moves with surprising speed and slams a paw into Blackwall's shield. Backed by 600 lbs, the hit throws the warden back into the mage.

[wickedchase]

It's been a bad day of getting soaked, getting mud everywhere, and then there are bears. So, really, ducking behind the bigger warrior is a smarter move to him. Might as well let him deal with this for now.

Unfortunately, not all goes according to plan.

"Shit--" he mutters under his breath before Blackwall is thrown back into him, making him grunt, air knocked out of him for a moment as they both go down. Further into the mud.

That really sours the mood more than the bear.

"Enough of this!" he grumbles, squirming out from under Blackwall.

The mage gets back to his feet, slamming his staff down as he concentrates. First, he casts a barrier for the both of them; it's far from being the strongest, but it'll do for now.

If there are going to be bears, then let there be bears. The mage shapeshifts into a bear himself, letting out a snarl.

[scalethewall]

The stranger pads his fall a bit, but that doesn't curb Blackwall's stream of muttered curses. To be fair, getting hit by the bear to begin with hadn't been all that pleasant. Shaking his head to clear the dazed feeling, Blackwall's slow to get back to his feet, the wet, bulky armor not doing him any favors at the moment.

He's up in time to witness the mage he'd stumbled across turn into a bear himself. A barrier was to be expected, seeing someone shift into an animal? Not so much. He catches himself sneaking a quick glance in the bear's -the true bear's- direction, almost as if he expects the only other witness to this strange magic to commiserate with him.

The real bear seems a little unsure what to make of the newcomer as well, body language changing. It's posture remains obviously aggressive, but appeared more challenging now than simply enraged and murderous.

"Maker's balls." He was seriously starting to wonder what he'd gotten himself into this time.

IV.

[gatheringstorm]

Likewise not interested in grumpy bears or remaining soaked, Korrin unrepentantly hogs a spot by the fireplace to warm up. Also helping with that is a cup of spiced wine in her hands...not as good as the stuff she makes herself, but it'll do for now. Her staff, which everyone has sense enough to leave alone, is propped up against the wall. Upon seeing another enter, the Vashoth woman recognizes his Warden chestplate and signals to the bartender.

"An ale for the Warden, on me." She may have issues with certain recent Warden decisions, but this one wasn't there when it happened. And if he's like every other that she's met, he's put his life on the line to fight darkspawn. That's reason enough to get him a drink.

Blackwall Greatly Approves

[scalethewall]

"Your generosity is much appreciated, my lady," He raises the tankard that's delivered to him in thanks, giving her an equally appreciative nod. Peoples' reactions to wardens seemed to vary wildly, but nothing beat gratitude and respect.

He pauses to take a drink before setting the cup down in order to find a place against the wall for his bulky shield, which ends up close to where her staff is resting. A chair by her is also available, so he helps himself to it. Ideally, he'd love to take the thick leather gloves and gambeson he wore off, but he didn't dare do either in the tavern. He'd deal with the uncomfortable dampness.

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin smiles and raises her cup before bringing it to her lips. That warm sip helps ease the bone-deep ache all over her body created from fighting and traveling all day. It has her wondering if so much time spent in Skyhold has made her soft, and she resolves on more hunting trips to prevent that.

"No problem. I always have a little to spare for someone else trying to keep this area from being a hotbed of chaos. It's an uphill battle, but moments like these help.

I'm Korrin, by the way, of the Valo-Kas company and the Inquisition."

[scalethewall]

No one looked particularly comfortable or totally dry, save for the small handful of people who had possibly not left the tavern since the rains had started. There weren't many, but the dry looking fellow passed out a few tables over proved it was at least a possibility.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance. I'm Blackwall. So, you're with the Inquisition forces?" He perks up a little, curiosity obviously piqued, "To my knowledge, you're the first I've run into in person. Perhaps you can clear up some contradicting rumors for me. What's the Inquisition's purpose in the Hinterlands?"

Surely, the rumors that they had someone who could close the rifts had to be just that, a rumor.

[gatheringstorm]

The Vashoth woman nods, eager to share what news she can and possibly encourage others to join. Another Warden definitely wouldn't hurt, right? Right. She ticks off said reasons with her fingers. "It's multifold; help the refugees, make sure the rogue mages and Templars don't get them killed in the crossfire, seal the rifts, destroy as much red lyrium as we can find...and take out that high dragon before it decides to leave its breeding ground for the village. We're not running out of things to do, that's for damn sure."

IV

[arsebiscuit]

"Ha, knew I heard a broody beard. From all the way outside the place."

Sera doesn't wait for invitation, just slides into the seat next to him and instantly reaches for his tankard to sniff then take a sip of what's inside.

"This all they got?"

[scalethewall]

"Fuzzhead," He greets with a wide smile that's mostly lost in his beard.

If Sera started asking for permission, he'd really start wondering about her. It wasn't like she'd get any argument from him. Instead, he crosses his arms and sits back, waiting for her assessment of the pisswater they'd served up.

"I should hope so. It's supposed to be ale."

[arsebiscuit]

"Lies, that. But might still work to get things a bit fuzzy."

She waves- more or less standing on her chair for a moment to get attention- then points at the tankard then herself. One was on the way.

"All done with your wardeny calls and junk?"

[scalethewall]

Her antics earn her a quiet chuckle, though he does make an attempt at a disapproving shake of his head.

"I am. And I have something for you," He pauses, reaching out to take his tankard back and take a drink, "It's not on me. Smells too bad."

He had no idea why Sera wanted a bag of Druffalo manure, but he suspected it involved Vivienne, which meant he didn't want to know.

3

[stormbreak]

Rowan isn't used to roughing it in the wilds, and it shows. Her fine clothes are soaked with rain, her boots muddied as she struggles to find purchase on the side of the hill, using her staff to help herself walk. She's so intent on making her journey that she doesn't notice the oncoming bear until she hears a shout of warning.

She gasps as the warrior rushes to her defense, and rights herself as best she can so she can cast a barrier around him. It's exceptionally strong defensive magic, the kind she was known for in the Circle. She doesn't plan on letting the brave man fight alone, though, if she could just--get out of--

A short cry is heard as she slips and falls, getting soaked in mud on her way back down the hill.

[scalethewall]

His efforts are met with a ground shaking roar from the bear and a swipe from the creature's massive paw, which Blackwall manages to duck at the last second. The flash of magic seems to infuriate the bear even more, but it's as good a distraction as any and the Warden uses the opportunity to drive his sword deep into the bear's stomach. The blow doesn't come close to bringing the creature down, but it does seem to be reconsidered the choice it'd made to go after the seemingly squishy mage.

The cry from behind him makes Blackwall chance a quick glance over his shoulder, just in time to see the mage's feet in the air as she tumbles -or maybe gets dragged- down the hill.

His curse is undecipherable, not much more than a grumble as he tries to keep the bear at sword's length and work back a few steps to make sure the woman isn't being attacked by another, unseen, bear.

"Alright?" He yells, giving up on trying to make his way through the mud and risk slipping down the hill himself. He narrowly side steps another wild swipe, claws glancing off armor harmlessly as he manages to get in a slash across the bear's face while it's off balance.

[stormbreak]

"Yes!" Rowan cries as she gets to her feet. "I'm fine!"

Though a little out of her element, a squishy mage she is not. As soon as she can get a good shot she levels a lightning spell at the bear. It tears the earth in front of it and sends the beast reeling, and she tries not to feel sick from the smell of the singing fur.

She doesn't want to kill it, just wants it to stop slashing at the man-- if only it would just recognize that it's outmatched and run away...

[scalethewall]

The beast was a Ferelden bear, which meant it could be surrounded by twenty men and would continue to fight, a bit of lightning wasn't about to send the thing running unfortunately. The lightning did, however, provide the perfect distraction. While it's still dazed, Blackwall steps in closer, driving his sword between the creatures ribs to deliver a killing blow before stepping back to avoid being buried under the bear as it collapsed.

"Milady, if you're not wounded, I'd suggest we get moving. For some reason, they tend to show up in numbers. Can I walk you back to the road? Or was there something else you were looking for out here?" He said, first scanning her for injuries and then the surrounding tree line for more bears.

[stormbreak]

Rowan is a little winded, but unscathed-- at least where injuries are concerned. Her clothes, face and hair are splattered with mud, and she's soaked through with rain and freezing. It hasn't been a good day for her.

None of that shows on her face, though. Instead, her huge eyes are filled with concern for the man who saved her.

"Are you all right? Do you need healing?"