allthisshitisweird | 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That scouting gets a nod of approval, glad that her new companion isn't without common sense. While he tends to the horse, she pours some tea for herself and settles back down, Garahel plopping down near her after taking a moment to sniff at him and the horse. As Kirk turns his attention to him, his tail wags for a moment before he heads over and rolls onto his back, exposing that belly. His mistress smirks and shakes her head.

"Believe it or not, he was worse as a pup. I'm Warden Inessa Serra and my mabari is Garahel. We're on our way to Skyhold as well, to join the Grey Wardens there." At long last. "If you'd like some tea, I can bring it over for you. Garahel would protest if I distracted you from him now."

Kirk laughed at the dog and reached down to scratch. He didn't mind giving the dog attention, having always enjoyed animals - when they weren't trying to eat him, but those were the exceptions, not the rule. Or maybe it was the other way around. He tried not to think about the close calls to very much.

"Hah, that would be very nice, thank you," he nodded down to his pack. "I have some jerky in my pack and some herbs and mushrooms I gathered earlier if you want to use them to make dinner tonight. If the weather keeps we should make Skyhold tomorrow, so why not celebrate a little tonight?" It was fair trade right? Tea for cooking supplies.

Garahel lets out a happy wuff at the scratching, becoming a furry pile of happiness as long as it continues. Inessa doesn't mind, though. He's a good guard dog, and if he thought there was reason to suspect Kirk, he would never have shown his belly. So, that's good enough for her.

Pouring him some tea, Inessa nods at mention of the contribution. "That would be quite generous, thank you. I attempted to gather some for myself, though bears have proved to be something of a distraction." As they usually are in these parts. "You seek to join the Inquisiton, then? Or are you on a return trip?"

"Thankfully I have avoided those," he huffed, his arm beginning to ache from the scratching, but the dog seemed so happy he didn't want to stop just quite yet - even with his other hand occupied with tea.

"I've been living at Skyhold for awhile now. I went out on a job," he explained. "I am not part of the Inquisition itself, though. I do my own work." He did not know how she might react to knowing he was a Rifter, so for the moment he kept that to himself, glad he had remembered to wrap his shard-embedded hand.

"A mercenary, then? I heard they have accumulated quite a few of those." Inessa arches an eyebrow, curious though not judging. Work is work, and as long as it's on behalf of the Inquisition, the rest isn't really her business. She takes a sip of her own tea. "We arrived directly from Weisshaupt; the Grey Warden fortress in the Anderfels. Ferelden is my home, though. I'm glad to be back, even to circumstances such as these."

Glancing down at Garahel, she nudges him slightly. "You've had your fill, now let the poor man warm up." There's a soft whine in response, but the mabari will behave himself when Kirk pulls away...for now.

"Oh, no, nothing like that. I just do odd jobs whenever they come up. Someone needed something delivered and I wanted to be away from Skyhold for a bit, so I took it," he waved his hand, dismissing the notion. In some circles that might indeed make him a mercenary, but he never fought on anyone's behalf for money. Mostly he did delivery jobs, sometimes protection if it was needed.

"Welcome home," he nodded, finally stopping his petting when the dog moved off, shifting to get out the food items he had promised to contribute for their meal. "And don't worry boy, I'll be sure to give you some more before bed." He smiled at him and gave him a last pat on the head. "How long have you been away from home?"

"Thank you." Inessa watches as Garahel then moves to plop down by her, letting out a big yawn. She leans in to stroke his head briefly, then straightens up. "It's been a couple of years now; since the Circle Tower fell during the Mage-Templar War, more or less. Directly afterward, I sought out the Grey Wardens in Amaranthine and was sent onward."

It sounds so simple, though at the time it wasn't, at all. But Inessa knows other mages had it worse, so she's reluctant to speak about her own experiences. In the end, she got what she wanted.

TEST DRIVE MEME!

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