TEST DRIVE MEME!

[faderifting]

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.

Comments

[eviscerates]

( In all fairness she'd have been pretty taken aback to see someone from home, too. Well, she is surprised, enough so that for a moment she just stares at Emma and her jaw works silently as she tries to get her head around it. )

Emma?

( Different from last time she saw her, some part of her processes but she doesn't really have a chance to figure it out - she's stepping forward to settle her hands on Emma's shoulders, a stupidly happy grin on her face. )

Oh my God. Hi.

[sheriffing]

[ It's a little more than Emma is capable of processing at the moment. Not just a familiar face, but Ruby, who's been a constant since she first arrived in Storybrooke. She stares open-mouthed for the time it takes her friend to pull her closer, and that's enough to snap her out of it. There aren't many people who Emma would greet with a hug, but Ruby's on that list and somehow present here, so she leans in, briefly, and breathes a sigh of relief.]

How... ?

[How is this possible? How are they both here? How did they get so far from home? Ruby could pick any of those options or create her own and she'd just be happy to get something resembling answers.]

Hey.

[eviscerates]

How-- yeah.

( Leaning back, Ruby takes a moment to look at her. She's seen Emma here before, but she'd been-- different. Struggling. Weighed down with something, and ever since she disappeared Ruby's been trying to work out where to, or how. If she'd gone home, or if the Venatori or someone had taken her.

It's been a process. Being chased by bears was involved, but that practically a day that ends in 'y' in Thedas, she suspects.

So, her expression sobers a little, even if she's having to make a little bit of an effort to rein in her smile. She's going to start with the obvious, and maybe work backwards in significance until they end up addressing the flowers that trail behind her everywhere she walks. Magical rings, they're... really something. )

What's... what's the last thing you remember?

( Goal One, don't freak Emma out. Goal Two, don't. Freak Emma. Out. )

[sheriffing]

The last thing I remember here?

[ No, that doesn't make sense. At home does, which requires at least a little freaking out. What's going on that Ruby feels the need to tell -or not tell her about? She tenses visibly, one hand absently brushing a few locks of hair behind her ear. Is the kind of thing where she's trying to ease her in? Fact checking before she drops a bomb? If she's not setting something up, it still feels that way.]

I - Cora. She and Regina teamed up, she wanted Gold's dark magic.

[There's not going to be any attempt to sweep something under the rug, is there? Emma crosses her arms against her chest, waiting for something that her instincts say won't be good. She could be wrong, but usually when she has a feeling, she isn't.

Why?