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

Henry Mills(Swan) | Once Upon a Time | Native Mage Au

[truestheart]

1) It's like Brave, except no ones actually a bear.

[ Why is it always the damn bears? What is it with this place and wanting to Maul a young mage to death? Honestly, what's with everything and wanting to maul mages to death? And people for that matter? Ugh.

Henry has of course found himself up a tree, his staff is on the ground and he's hanging up there as the bears are watching him hungrily. ]

Look! I don't want any trouble can you just, go or something? Do other bear things? [ Nope, bears are not leaving. ]

Of course not. [ He could sure use a rescue right now. ]

2) Trusting a teenager to cook. What could go wrong?
[ The moon and stars are out, it's a crisp night and the campfire is roaring. It's almost peaceful and serene if you can ignore the screams of demons in the night. Henry is sitting by the fire, stirring what appears to be soup...or is it porridge. You know, he can't quite tell anymore but it looks...edible? Regardless, he spoons a bowl of it and heads over to his current companion and offers it out. ]

You look like you need this.

[ Dare you eat? ]

4) RESEARCH! and Later a darkspawn attack or something.
[ It's an opportunity in disguise! So what if this place was home to former murders, smugglers and bandits? It's a chance to look around an old ruin, take some notes, read a few old texts draw. The skies the limit. Henry rummages about, gliding his fingers over the surfaces of the stone walls. He focuses hard on them, trying to make out their story the best he could. The look on his face is so intense his nose is literally pressed against the wall. ]

It's a shame this place went into such disrepair and used for this kind of stuff. Maybe if those smugglers had taken better care of it we could've gotten into that vault sooner.

[ But, later there's darkspawn. There is always f**king darkspawn down in these places. Henry's ready for it though as arrows seem to flying this way. He swipes his hand across the ground quick and ice erupts forth to block the impending projectiles. ]

I thought we made sure the darkspawn COULDN'T get back in! Any ideas?!

5) Wild card!
[ What's happening here? Helping people in Redcliffe? Stopping blood mages? Who knows! ]

[ ooc: will match writing style! ]

jhin ■ league of legends ■ native au

[fourscores]

❝II. camping sucks❞

  The Inquisition was interesting to say the least. Not quite what he'd expected, but nothing he couldn't deal with. This was a new stage, a new performance! He had the opportunity to create new stunning works of art out of whatever targets he was pointed towards. He would bring death, and it wouldn't be like The Game. It would help Thedas. Something to feel good about, something-

The loud snore next to him instantly brings about thoughts of Orlais. How nice it would be to be back there in this moment, sleeping peacefully. Or killing someone, because The Game was never ending. Simply anything that wasn't dealing with the thoughts of wanting to stab his unfortunate tentmate.

He sits up with a sigh. One. Two. Three. Four. Finger tapping against his leg as he tries to settle himself. One. Two. Three. And Jhin's up and out of the tent, humming quietly.

He needs some air... And to get away from that awful snoring for at least a moment.

❝IIII. oh good darkspawn❞

  There's a frown behind his mask, though none could see it. Bodies to loot, yet none for him to kill. Assisting with finding anything useful for the archives also needed to be done. Tasks that weren't quite his thing, but he helped with anyway. Being part of the Inquisition didn't always mean targets to assassinate, something he was quickly (albeit begrudgingly) getting used to.

When the darkspawn show, he sighs, relieved.

"Oh, thank the Maker."

❝V. wildcard❞

  [Got another idea? Go for it!]

2

[truestheart]

He's poking and prodding at the embers in the flame with the tip of his staff. He can't quite remember what the assignment was for but he knew it was important. The loud snores hadn't kept him up. If anything he had been sleeping quite soundly. At least until demon tried to approach him in his dream. That's when he had shocked himself awake to escape. The tiring life of a mage he supposes.

The stirring from the tent catches his notice and Henry turns his head to see who leaves it. "Couldn't sleep either?" The boy asks as he sits by the remnants of a fire.

thomas nightingale | rivers of london | rifter

[ettersberg]

the joys of camping

( his education has prepared thomas nightingale for a great many things, and the war has prepared him for a great many others. he knows how to defend himself against bears, certainly with his staff in his hands and sufficient magic at his disposal that he won't be giving himself a stroke any time soon — or so he hopes, in the absence of abdul and his mri — and this will not be the first time sleeping outside on the ground.

neither have really prepared him for falling through a rift into a different dimension altogether, but at least he had been aware of the possibility, certainly since peter's almost-kidnapping by fae recently. he has, since his arrival, acquired a bedroll and a map, at least, and is currently on his way to the next largest city to perhaps learn more of his own fate. he has also acquired some alcohol of dubious origin that he may be willing to share.

any travellers to come across him will find a man who seems to be in his early forties — he's not — in what used to be a white trenchcoat — now dirtied by mud and with a tear from a recent bear attack, quite vexing, that — and a light blue suit underneath it. his shoes are fine leather and hand-made, but they, too, are dirty now.

it's all really rather vexing, if you ask him. )

the joys of fighting darkspawn

( he'd sworn to protect queen and country, and it is his duty to maintain her majesty's peace, particularly as regards threats from the demi-monde. this does not appear to be a threat to her majesty's peace at all, given that nightingale doubts the queen has ever set foot in this land or has any sovereignty over it.

no matter: there are people in need of aid, and he is in a position to help. really, what kind of copper would he be if he didn't run toward danger — or rather, stroll casually toward danger, staff in one hand and straightening his cuffs with the other.

he doesn't know any of the accords here, doesn't know if any even exist, so instead of attempting to parley, he simply mutters a higher-order spell, drawing from the magic stored in the staff to give it a little extra, what would peter say? oomph. have you ever seen darkspawn nap? because nightingale just hit this one with a sleeping spell, and now there's a demon curling up and going to sleep.

nightingale turns to any individual in the vicinity, brows drawing together just so. ) Are you all right? ( his voice has a distinct upperclass british accent, the queen's finest. it may hold a different meaning here, but nightingale isn't particularly likely to dwell on such things. )

wildcard

( i have no idea what i'm doing, so write your own adventure! ♥)

camping.

[dashing]

( Leaving Hasmal had not been easy, for all that it was for the good of the Circle and for her fellow mages. It did not matter that all the Circles were disbanded - the templars and mages of Hasmal had stood together, and she would sooner be there fighting by their side then in Ferelden. Any trip through a town meant eyes were raking over her and her staff, before they found the sword hanging at her side, and there was an unfortunate tendency of towns to smell of leatherworks and wet dog. Her alienage had never smelled better, mind, but it was a particular smell of terrible that was still part of it being home.

She hears something, and her staff (black wood, metal worked into it and fabric wound around certain parts of it for better grip) is in hand as she advances.

Herian, herself, looks rather more native and entirely human, which is equal parts a relief (and thus guilt inspiring) and something that rankles her, the kind of sore that simply won't heal over. Her accent in this world marks her as hailing from Starkhaven, but to the likes of a rifter from certain worlds could be mistaken for Scottish - Glasglow, perhaps. )

Well, now.

( Interesting. ) You look like you've been having a rough time of it.

( She does not put up her staff immediately, but the state of his (very strange looking) coat and her own adventures in avoiding bears make her a little more inclined to be sympathetic, maybe. Her tone is more friendly than she necessarily feels. Humans are not kind, in her experience, unless they are Circle Mages, and he certainly doesn't look like one of them. )

Raylan Givens | Justified | native mage AU

[putyoudown]

choose your own adventure
Raylan was generally content to stay in his little shack and whittle things out of wood, or read books, or experiment on his whittling, or stare into the fire and contemplate life. Preferably with some liquor in his cup while he did it. He came out every day to get water from the stream and reset his wards, and once a week additionally to buy bread and cheese from the merchant who passed through, because he could hunt his own meat. But now there was a war, the merchant didn't come through anymore, and Raylan was sure he was going to get scurvy or something before he could manage to get these potatoes to take root. His little garden so far was pretty pathetic, and he swore colorfully at it as he poked around in the dirt.

He heard a stick snap nearby and stood up quickly, fingers already crackling with electricity. The wards around his hut (frankly excessive, by most standards) lit up and started crackling too. "Who's there?" he called out, eyes narrowed at the trees. The Hinterlands had become a dangerous place. Today was as good a day to die as any, he supposed, it would save him from scurvy or whatever, but he was certainly going to take a few chunks out of whoever it was before he did it.

cult tower
Raylan sat on the topmost step that led down into the little hollow with the rift in it. Demons milled around occasionally before being sucked back in, or going back in, or whatever they were doing. Either way, Raylan was at a safe enough distance that they didn't seem to consider it worth it to attack him, although occasionally one would look his direction as if they knew he were there.

He glanced up at someone who had come to stand next to him, then looked back down at the rift. "I reckon they can't get too far from it," Raylan said. "They've got some kind of connection with the Fade that goes through the rift, so they can't get more than a dozen paces from it. They don't even seem able to try. What do you think?" Having some idea of the capabilities of a rift would be useful the next time Raylan had to run away from one.

actual choose your own adventure
[Something else you want to tag Raylan with? do it]

fiachra sullivan | native oc | city elf

[lendanear]

i;
He'd been trying to hunt when the bear had ambled up on him. The ram had been in his line of sight, fatter than anything he'd seen in so long; he had poached when he'd been a boy, nugs, hares, rabbits, all small things you could hide easily, after his father had been killed for having a haunch of venison.

It's when he takes the breath to fire that he hears the bear, turning sharply and moving. The ram bleats, bolting down the hillside right as Fiachra locks eyes with the bear, turning his bow quickly. He had men to hate him before, men or the Dalish but he backs up, bow drawn, firing an arrow between the eyes and praying to the Maker that his footing stays secure enough.

He didn't come so far from Starkhaven to be mauled by a bear and left for dead out here in the Hinterlands and he draws again, looking for higher ground to give him any advantage, casting a quick eye about for someone who might do something.

"Andraste see me through this," he murmurs quietly, firing again with a small sharp grin when the arrow flies true, hitting the bear in the throat, making it roar with rage.

ii;
It's been a long time since he last camped, and Fiachra is wary. A lone elf is usually considered easy prey after all, and this isn't terrain he knows well but he has a small tent, hunkers down by it accompanied by a girl perhaps in her mid-teens with wide eyes, human, not elven, and for all his urging she sticks by him; he's a healer, he found her wounded on the road, she has followed him since.

For the moment though she is at least lured away by the stories the Inquisition scouts are telling, giving Fiachra time to sort through his pack.

His bow is laid out, not a very fine bow but functional, plenty of arrows that don't match but you make what you can with whatever you can, that's what you do in the alienage. It's the healing supplies he wants to check on by the light of the fire, and that's what he'll be doing, ignoring the dinner the girl brought over to him some time ago now, face pinched as he takes inventory, twisting the wedding band on his finger as he thinks.

v;
[Wildcard; choose your own adventure!]

I'll match whatever style you roll with, I just prefer prose for starters!

i

[gatheringstorm]

"Hey, you piece of shit! Over here!" A tall, horned woman with her staff ready glares at the bear from a distance...and then blurs forward, getting much closer. Normally, mages keep their distance in a fight and for good reason, but she doesn't seem to fear the consequences. Having a glowing blade of some kind might have something to do with it. She doesn't dare glance to the elf and risk the bear turning back to him, but hopefully those arrows will strike true while she's busy slicing into the blasted thing.

4

[gatheringstorm]

[Ugh, darkspawn. Likewise having hoped to see the last of them for a bit, Korrin scowls as she adds to their defenses with a Barrier spell, Then she blurs closer, ready to fry them all with Chain Lightning when they step withing range.]

We must have missed an opening! After we take down these assholes, we have to search for it.

[The carta assholes got what was coming to them, but unchecked, the darkspawn could reach more than just the usual lowlifes.]

Darkspawn

[make_my_mark]

Well. That was certainly a new one. Most of the mages Lara had met since arriving in Thedas tended to be flashier (fire, especially, seemed popular) but she was hardly going to question the late comer's choice. The monster was down and no longer attempting to claw her a new face.

Turning to the man, she nodded as she tried to catch her breath, fly-aways from her long ponytail waving about her sweat dampened face.

"Better, now," she told him, a touch wry. "We weren't expecting this many-- look out!"

Snapping her arm back quickly, she ripped an arrow from her quiver and sent it flying past him.

[truestheart]

[ Henry retreats backwards towards Korrin. Far too close to the icewall that the Darkspawn are about to beat against. He catches her words and the realization was almost instant. If they left the caves they could go into the Hinterlands. With all those people there already defenceless.

Another spell to give them the advantage, that's what they needed here. He spins his staff and points it in Korrin's direction and casts. A sigil of a clock appears beneath their feet and spins, they'll feel faster, move faster as he Hastes them.]

Here they come!

[gatheringstorm]

Let them! They can't stand against us!

[Darting a grin over at him for that boost, Korrin then turns her attention to their ice-barrier. When the first of it begins to chip away under the darkspawn assault, she readies her staff in one hand and spirit blade hilt in the other. With herself on the front lines and more of Henry's own magic from behind, she's not overcome with anxiety. Not overconfident, just not paralyzed with fear.

As ice shatters, Korrin's ready for them, unleashing that lightning blast on the nearest before closing in to slice at them with her glowing blade.]

[truestheart]

[ Well, that's one reason to hang with a Qunari. They make good frontliners, mage or not. He swipes his finger through the air, pulling the mana that resided about them and drawing it into his staff.

Now to give their offence more power. He directs his staff once again at Korrin and he unleashes the energy from his staff to surround her. It invigorates, strengthens and empowers, now giving her more fatal power to inflict with her sword swings. ]

Keep holding them there! I'll prepare a static cage! [ He just needs a bit of time, that's all. ]

[gatheringstorm]

Will do! Over here, assholes!

[Always enjoying the results of that spell, whether she's the one casting it or not, Korrin will hold the line and give him the time he needs. That energy he bestows on her definitely gives her a much-needed edge, and she seizes on that opportunity to cut down as many darkspawn as she can. Fortunately, that barrier is holding and their blood doesn't reach her.]

[truestheart]

[ He prepares it. Pulling the energy from the fade, from the very air itself to gather it and direct it. He pushes out the sound of combat as this spell is still something difficult to grasp onto.

It pools into him and he pushes it towards the end of the staff and when he see's Korrin's in the clear he points it just ahead of her.

The cage of electricity is unleashed and the darkspawn caught inside. The bolts of lightning surge through them, the smell of brunt and tainted flesh on the air as the electricity is merciless. They try to escape but are merely pulled back in. ]

[fourscores]

He hadn't expected anyone else to be awake, he'd have put on his mask if he thought geting up would mean a chat. Calmly he stops his humming and runs a hand through his hair, ensure it's not an utter mess.

"Unfortunately it seems rather difficult." What with the snoring, but not to outright say such things. Can't be too rude to Inquisition members, no matter how badly they snore.

For a moment Jhin remains quiet, enjoying the silence. This was much better.

"So what's a child doing with the Inquisition?"

[truestheart]

There's a small frown that crosses his face at that question. True he expected it to happen, but he did wish it wouldn't. The words are quick and instant "I'm sixteen. Technically, I'm an adult." He's not being rude, just, defensive in his mind.

But, that wasn't really an answer to the man's question was it? So, while delayed the answer doesn't take much thinking, he already knows it. "It was the right thing to do," easily the words come. No pondering, no nothing. Just honest.

"What about you?"

[fourscores]

That gets a quiet chuckle from the man. It was clearly something the boy was asked before, with how quick he was to answer. But sixteen? Still very much a child to him.

"Barely," he comments, though it was obvious enough that the boy had some use to the Inquisition for him to be here. "That's still quite young."

The question as to why he's with the Inquisition brings about a shrug. "I was hired to be here. Helping with everything going on, I suppose that's nice as well." Would he have joined the Inquisition on his own, had he not been contracted to? Debatable.

[gatheringstorm]

[In the process of cutting one down, Korrin looks over and grins as the spell takes effect. When it comes to crowd-control, that's one of the better items in one's arsenal to have. Plus, she's always had an affinity for Storm magic, so the use of it gets her approval.]

Nice work, Henry.

[It won't last forever, of course, but every moment they're trapped and fried is a good one.]

[lendanear]

It's impossible not to have heard of Qunari, especially living in the Free Marches, but seeing one is something else, and Fiachra falters for a heartbeat when he catches sight of the woman. A mage too, and can Templars actually contain Qunari mages? Do they even fit inside Circles? (There are bigger concerns in the alienage than rumours of the grey invaders from across the sea, he doesn't have time for holy wars when people are dying from simple infections or coming to him with broken bones when the humans get rough with them.)

Get a grip, he tells himself angrily, thinking of a girl back at camp even if she'd be better off if he didn't come back in all likelihood, firing again and moving around. "Don't draw more!" He doesn't shout, keeping his voice pitched just low enough for her to hear through his clenched teeth. He notches another arrow, pulls back until his whole body quivers with it, and it strikes the bear in the eye.

The howl is louder than anything he's ever heard.

[ettersberg]

( nightingale has never heard of circles, and templars are a thing of the past in his world. he doesn't know ferelden and he doesn't know any of the conventions or lack thereof that exist here. all he has to go off when forming an opinion of her is what he sees, interpreted through his own frame of reference, and her behaviour.

the staff reminds him of his own; the sword is a little more troublesome, or it would be if he hadn't been here for a few days already, if he hadn't already realised that this dimension is unlike his own in many regards. )

I've managed. ( comes his dry response to her observation. he stands, because it is polite to stand when greeting someone and some manners are ingrained in him, and gestures in invitation for her to join him by the meagre fire he's built. it's beginning to grow into something that may yet give off some actual warmth. )

Would you care to join me?

[ettersberg]

( nightingale's apprentice, peter, has a particular talent for making things explode — even if, or perhaps particularly when they are not meant to explode. there is a great deal of flashiness involved in that. nightingale prefers subtler approaches, refined and controlled.

he offers the barest hint of a smile, his expression not actually moving yet seeming to shift into something warmer — and then she calls out a warning, and he ducks instinctively. he had not been a soldier for long, fortunately enough, but he had been one and some instincts are ingrained. reacting to warnings is one of them.

the creature behind him falls, and her actions lead him to assume that there is no use in attempting to reason with these creatures, or in sparing their lives. he had been trying to exercise caution in that regard, lest he overstep any lines.

the next time a demon attacks, a flick of his hand sends a fireball toward it. it explodes once positioned by the creature's neck. never let it be said that nightingale is not capable of flashiness or explosions, if he so desires. )

Is it usual that there are quite so many?

[gatheringstorm]

That statement gets a huff of dry amusment from Korrin, who readies her staff. The howl is louder than anything she's done so far, for all her lack of stealth. "You say that like they aren't on their way already now." Fucking bears, where there's one, there's half a dozen nearby. Knowing that they might not have that much time before that proves true, she conjures a boulder from the Fade and slams it into the large beast with a force that causes it to stagger back.

[truestheart]

"There are a lot of people not much older than me in the Inquisition." Is he being a bit defensive? Maybe, but he knows his talents. He knows he's strong enough to handle the problems thrown at them.

Though Henry looks at the man, his face somewhat neutral at the answer. He could read between the lines. The supposes, it kind of makes him wonder if the money is all that's keeping them here. But, Henry can't know for sure. He's not a mind reader (Well unless he dabbled in blood magic but that's a no no).

"And if they stopped paying you?" The question is innocent sounding enough, but it's obvious what Henry wants to know here.

[truestheart]

[ The approval earns a smile to Henry's face. After all, not every apprentice gets a compliment from an experienced mage.

The darkspawn were beginning to thin out now from his cage that would soon end. But, there were still others lurking behind it, waiting to charge on through.

He couldn't conjure another, not now, he just needed a breather...or a lyrium potion. That's when he turned to Korrin.]

Think you can finish the rest?