allthisshitisweird | TEST DRIVE MEME!

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TEST DRIVE MEME!

Guess.

go on, guess.

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, early fall finds 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 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.

1. BEARIED ALIVE

You have turned the wrong corner, forded the wrong stream, crested the wrong hill, entered the wrong cave. Maybe you are far from camp. Maybe you are in camp. Whatever has happened, wherever you are: you are being chased by bears. Did you provoke the bears? Are they huge? Babies? Fade-touched? Mage-controlled? What are they chasing you away from? What are they chasing you into? What do you plan to make out of their hide if you kill them? What do you think they'll craft out of your hide if they kill you?

2. NICE PLACE FOR A SPOT OF CAMPING

If there were an inn, which there's not, there wouldn't be room for you in it. Traveling with the Inquisition means carrying your own bedrolls, putting up your own tents, and sleeping alongside whoever you've been told to share with--no matter how much you hate them or how loud they snore. If you really can't stand it, the alternative is sleeping outside. On the ground. With the bears.

3. A BIG CRAZY LIGHT IN THE SKY

Not everyone thinks the Breach was a bad thing. In the southeastern mountains, a burgeoning cult has taken up residence in Winterwatch Tower to wait patiently for the Maker to reach through the tears in the veil and gather the faithful to his bosom. They're a little kooky, maybe, but harmless, and they're happy enough to share their wine and lager with travelers in the area. The demon-spewing rift behind the Tower, on the other hand... Too bad the Herald didn't close that thing before she bit it. Watch your step.

4. TROUBLE IN THE DEEP

The Carta is everywhere, but it's here in force, occupying dwarven ruins in a chasm behind a waterfall. Inquisition forces have already cleared most of the smugglers out of the hold, but there's still a vault to break into, bodies to loot, and old texts to search through for anything worth adding to the Inquisition's growing archives. Also: darkspawn. Sorry.

5. CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE

Hunt game, kill demons, gather herbs, track bandits, haggle over the price of armor, fall off a deceptively tall rock, 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, rummage around in empty homes, run from a dragon, cry over how cute that fennec fox you just shot was, set up camp and chat around the fire, knock yourself out (figuratively, or even literally if that's more your speed)-- the Hinterlands are your ~~Frostback Mountain~~ oyster.

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[ Her rhetoric question does get something of a wide eyed look. That's...not wrong. ]

Much better than the Fallow Mire.

[ Still running, still running and...

ROAR. Roar noises.

Oh dear. Glance back and hey look there's that bear...oh... ]

Run. Run faster!

The noise is enough to for henry to assume the meaning. On the bright side it's possibly the most positive.

He did not expect another refill though. A small nod and a "thanks," Henry gives.

He takes another sip of the stew looking at it's contents as he hears Karl's words. "I know. Not many people believe it can happen. But, I think it still can."

[It certainly is better than nothing, and Kain doesn't want to seem ungrateful. In fact, as he considers it...]

I've had worse. Don't worry.

[Much worse. At the end of a long day's journey, it basically comes down to sitting over a campfire and eating whatever's there, being so hungry that anything is appetizing. Kain tries a bit of it then. It looks worse than it tastes, so there's that going for him!]

Actually... it really isn't so bad.

Karl is quiet for a moment, as he thinks that over. His face is very blank as he forgets, yet again, to put emotion into it. It might be mistaken for being thoughtful though.

"When I was a boy, likely a little older than you, I fell in love with someone. We became inseparable, even passed our Harrowings around the same time as one another. I thought I could spend the rest of my life with him." There's a pause, as he lets those memories knit themselves in his mind, lets the ache there settle in his chest. "Love was something the templars forbade, however, even when there was little risk of offspring. So they sent me to another Circle that claimed it needed more senior mages."

Another pause as he busied his hands by picking up a bit. "Kirkwall."

He doesn't expand further, expects the boy will understand enough what his opinion on the subject might be. He doesn't sound bitter or accusatory though. His voice is not completely emotionless, but it's more a quiet, personal pain.

Raylan was looking thoughtful, trying to think if he'd heard tell of anyone like that passing through. He didn't hear much news, though, and then the second thing made him roll his eyes.

"Andraste save us, not this shit again." He perched his hands on his skinny hips, glaring at the boy. Just a kid he may be, but clearly he could handle himself in some degree if he'd made it out here. "I'm doing just fine, and unless the Chantry has said otherwise, the Inquisition is no less of a rebellion than what's left of the fucking Circle. The minute Inquisition mages stop counting as apostates, I'll join up, and not before." Also, possibly, the minute it meant he wouldn't have to fight, but he wasn't as inclined to admit that he'd prefer to avoid combat.

He catches sight of the fire after he's gotten a little separated from the group he'd been with. Something about large bears charging seemed to cause a great deal of chaos. Something about a second group of bears charging in once the group was already scattered meant that there was no real hope of keeping together.

He'd killed the massive bear that wanted to eat him, used the crystals to make sure everyone was all right, and then simply kept walking to see what herbs (and hopefully no more bears) he could find.

One person alone could be a trap. If it is, they'll find him a much more difficult target to deal with than they anticipated.

"Ho there, by the fire. Would you mind sharing it for a short time?" Just long enough for Anders to warm up, and then move on. He doesn't intend to be a bother.

That voice and Karl is a teenager again, finding small corners of the tower with less eyes watching. He stiffens a bit and looks up. Things were so complicated, too complicated to explain in just a few moments.

He reaches up and pulls the cloak hard around his head, making sure his face is still pretty hidden. His beard is more stringy than it had been in Kirkwall's Chantry, and there's no reason for Anders to think he's still alive.

He just sort of shrugs and gestures somewhere near the fire. Welcoming the man to sit but not too close. He's a little lost in pieces of memory and emotion and it's almost too much for him to maintain control.

Thankfully Mercy is there, calming him, holding tight on a heart that might break all over again.

"Thank you." No comment from the person, but no attack either, so Anders is satisfied enough. "I won't be too long. It's cold out here, and I could use a break from the bears."

When all else fails, keep talking. Especially if the other person seems disinclined to speak with him. There's a part of him that's always straining for attention even though he's one of the people in Thedas who could most use less of the spotlight.

"Have you encountered many of them? I'm a healer. I could assist." There's no hiding it when he's in robes with a staff on his back, really. He's never wanted to hide it. It shouldn't be a cause for shame.

He wants to feel annoyed at having to listen to Anders, but he can't bring himself to be. Not when it's so much like the boy he remembered when he was able to piece together more of his past.

The Rite had left so much inside of him broken, but after Mercy came it was easier to put the pieces together - even with the years of solitary in the bowels of The Gallows. Listening to that voice, though, brings too many memories to the forefront. In a few seconds he feels like he's sixteen again, then older, pining and writing letters, then stuck in the night that the templars came to tell him that he would be bait. Bait that couldn't fight back.

Instead of letting himself get lost in those flashes - because being lost meant too many emotions which meant lack of control - he lowers his hand next to him and picks up his own staff, standing it up in front of him. His fingers grip at the steel handle encasing the wood, using it to steady himself.

"I know who you are," he says, with a voice that is too rough from disuse. He still doesn't look up, eyes focused on the fire but still seeing the edges of his past.

Fuck.

Anders scrambles back to his feet with well-practiced haste, staff coming off his back and into his hand. The other mage isn't up to his feet yet, but there's rarely something good that follows a proclamation like that. The man's voice is hoarse. Emotions, probably. He truly chose the wrong fire tonight, but it's not like that's anything new.

"I don't want a fight. I'll walk away and be gone, and maybe be eaten by a bear. That would be a nice thought, right?" What he'd done, he'd done to save mages. He really doesn't want to kill another.

While Rowan is thankful to her rescuer, she doesn't intend on letting him fight alone. Once she rights herself she casts a barrier on the archer as well, then fires a lightning spell at the beast's hindquarters while it charges forward.

She'd always been talented with lightning, so when it hits the bear it sends the animal stumbling on its way to attack the archer.

Karl's eyes narrow a bit as he realizes the motion was taken the wrong way. "No," he protests. "That's a terrible thought. You helped break the Circles. You proved we don't have to allow abuses. Your actions encouraged the vote which lead to the rebellion." His voice is still coarse and he doesn't clear it. He's too much of a coward to expose too much of himself.

"Without you Meredith would have been able to kill every mage in the Gallows without a fight. I was there. I had a cell. There were no windows. For days I'd hear nothing but my own thoughts and the scraping of the food they shoved at me..." His voice fails then and he has to cough to clear his throat.

[ Henry gives a little crook of his brow and a smirk. ]

Thanks. [ Even if he'd be okay with being told it's terrible.

Henry's not much of a fan either. He takes another sip of it. ]

If it's one thing the circle needed to teach people, it's how to cook.

Spells to set fires, sure. Potions? Have to teach that.

Cooking? Oh no, it might result in blood magic.

Henry listens to the man's story attentively. He's not about to shrug it off, saying it wasn't needed or he didn't need is mind changed. But, it would allow for some perspective in on the situation.

The ending does get something of a reaction. Wide eyed and somewhat horrified. He heard of the abuses the Kirkwall circle faced, what happened, everything that led up to it.

"I can see what you mean." Someone from there would have a very hard time believing things. But, it was just one place, right? Surely things could be fixed...

Then again...

"I was from the White Spire."

"Pardon my words, ser, but the Chantry can't even get it's head out of the ground to decide on the next divine." If they'd just stop arguing on who should lead, just come together and put someone at least as temporary Divine things might ease a bit.

But, now's really not the time to wait for the Chantry. "It may be months before they're all right with the Inquisition and the word is Divine Justinia sanctioned the Inquisition." But, he's arguing semantics here.

"Regardless, if the mages are not counted as apostates or not, there's a real threat out there and it might not be long before it starts scooping up the rest of us. Besides, it's a lot safer there than it is out here."

"As you can see, I'm doin' just fine," Raylan said, gesturing to the wards around them, still glowing purple-white with magic. "I'm sure you can imagine, no one bothers me." Not a lot were strong enough to get through those wards without dying. Still fewer cared to absorb the damage, and the few remaining knew the area well enough to know there was nothing in his shack that would make it worth it. Killing a single apostate with nothing of value, when there were caves and ruins all around chock full of them? He just didn't make a tempting target, and that was good enough for him.

Still, it was only a matter of time, and he knew it. He didn't want to die in the fucking Hinterlands.

Maker, how desperate was he that the Inquisition was starting to seem appealing?

Heaving a heavy sigh, Raylan shook his head. "I'm going to regret this," he said, but he waved a hand, clearing another ward to give Henry a clear path. "You may as well come inside, at least. Have some water, warm your bones." Perhaps it was worth seeing if the kid had anything else, any more selling points.

Jhin shakes his head, "Not at all."

Well actually he does mind, not that he shows any sign or inflection that such is the case. Silence was too much to ask for it seemed, but overall this was preferable to the snoring.

Quietly he sets up the wood and works on getting a fire started for them. Perhaps he'll have some time to enjoy some quiet after this is finished.

He hesitates for a moment, but the man's continued explanation, along with the cough, have Anders taking a seat again.

"I'm sorry. I'm glad you're out, but I'm sorry. Can I help? Because your throat and that cough don't sound that good." It's hard, after being in a cell, alone. He knows that well, and it explains the way the man's bundled up and withdrawn; anything could be a trap or a hallucination.

"Or I've some herbs that can be used for a throat-soothing tea." Despite the pain of the man's situation, there's some joy to be found from his words. Here's evidence of another mage who made it out of Kirkwall, someone who was saved by Anders' actions and the blocking of the Rite.

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

At least he's fairly quiet after the exchange, other than taking the time to skin the carcass of the ram now with a small sharp knife. It was always best to do so while the kill was fresh. Bent over his work he doesn't seem to be keen on starting a conversation himself so early in the morning.

While friendly when the occasion called for it, Keith didn't know this man enough to try. But, he can appreciate he knows how to work and doesn't try to escape from it easily. He was used to working on his own but sometimes it was nice to have a little help now and again.

When he's done he carefully speared the meat and lifted it up onto the spit he'd crafted around the fire he'd made earlier, surveying his handiwork.

The child had fallen asleep after a good while of stories, unnoticed by the scouts for the most part. He listened too, much like the little girl and sitting the way he was, few would believe he was over several hundred years old, the curiosity and love of stories both getting the better of him, though his trust in the Inquisition was all but minimal still. A hood of the cloak hid away the ears, pulled up to ward away the evening's chill.

When the scouts dispersed, to sleep some, others back to their duties or other tasks, Legolas too was about to leave, only the sleeping girl caught his attention. It was not a good place for her to stay, though, much less so asleep, and he had seen her before, he figured the elf that she followed was her guardian of a sort. And thus, Legolas found himself with an armful of a human child, carrying her to her guardian.

"You are her guardian," his tone rang as much of a question as it did of a statement, smiling gently, "She had fallen asleep in the midst of all the storytelling, too long for a child so young to sit through."

And as he spoke, he crouched low to relieve himself of the sleeping girl.

[Once Henry's clear of the bodies, she sets them aflame. It's better to have them burn to a crisp than let all that taint persist in the area. At least it's downwind, so the smell won't be blowing back at them.]

That's a long shot, but I won't be the one to discourage you or anyone from trying. Maker knows the Wardens could use a miracle. So could we.

[Haven definitely counted as that, but they need more.]

[The smell of burning darkspawn. If she went back home tomorrow, and lived to be a hundred, she'd never miss that sickly stench.

Her nose wrinkled lightly, just under her eyes, but she nodded is satisfaction as the beast went down.]

Not on the surface... They must have found a way up from somewhere.

[She looks sidelong at the mage.]

If it isn't plugged, they'll just keep coming.

[She wouldn't leave until it was closed regardless, but help was always appreciated.]

As Daenerys stares up at the constellations, a voice speaks up.

"That one's called Draconis. See the wings?" A horned woman, easily a foot taller than the average human male, approaches with no thought of stealth at all. Given her heavy footfalls, she'd be ill suited to it anyway. Respectful of personal space, she pauses a short distance away, eyeing the newcomer with interest...and compassion. It's not easy to be ripped away from everything famliar, she's seen that much.

"Then both of us are from places where important events took place," he says. He looks up at Henry then, curious about him. "Yours is much more secretive, I'm afraid. Likely because there isn't a book written about yours. Are you able to share anything about what happened?"

Henry takes a moment at the question. It's true that things went down at the spire but none he's very clear on. "I'm not sure I can tell you much. But, I know there were unexplained deaths happening. People said they were murders." What else was there...what else...

"I know some of the first enchanters came to talk about how to run the circle of magi. But, that's about it. I was taken out of the spire just before all the fighting started."

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TEST DRIVE MEME!

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ii

It's okay, Fallout 4/DA2 did the same to me.

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