CHAPTER 1: Welcome to the Inquisition

Ria opened her eyes to the sound of clanging metal. Her vision wavered before focussing on a dark ceiling. The smell in the room was musty and wooden. Not like the clean hospital room she'd been sleeping in for the night shift. Not the smell of alcohol gel or plastic.

She lay on her back for a few seconds before bolting up in the bed.

It was little more than a hard, wooden board with legs and a fur blanket thrown over it.

A thin beam of light filtered into the room, revealing fur lined boots on the floor. There was a heavy chest in the corner by a wooden desk. The furniture and the cabin- from what she could tell- was old fashioned, like from a medieval era or something. Panic seized her as she looked around.

Where am I?

This was definitely not the hospital. This wasn't even her home.

One thing was certain: she had to get out of here.

"It could be a dream… it has to be a dream…" she muttered to herself.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she slipped into the boots, heart thumping like mad.

"Ok, what the fuck is wrong with my life…"

These days, she usually tried not to swear. But there had been a lot of shit in her life, and this situation was just bizarre. Where was she?

A sudden thought occurred to her, relaxing her shoulders.

Of course! I'm so stupid! This must be some medieval TV show or movie and I'm on the set!

The question was, what was she doing here? Even that didn't make sense. But it made more sense than the idea she had gone back in time to the middle ages.

She opened the door, and gaped when she saw what was making the commotion outside. Ria was facing a beautiful landscape with spreading maples, birches, oaks and other trees rising from a luscious, fertile ground. From cliffs flowed rushing waterfalls and giant boulders sat at their bases. The sky was a striking blue, and the sun shone like a burnished shield.

Holy…

And nowhere… nowhere did she see any film crew. No cameras, no shouting directors, no helicopter flying overhead. No one in a T-shirt . Everyone was either in armour or medieval looking clothes. She even spotted one woman in flowing white and red robes wearing something ridiculous on her head.

Those robes looked familiar.

No…

Ria backed into the cabin and closed the door behind her, breathing heavily.

"Oh, nonononono…"

Those robes couldn't be…? Chantry robes!

Ria laughed out loud.

You can't be serious.

She was in Thedas, probably in the Hinterlands, by the look of it. Whatever the reason, she was here in a place that existed in a video game.

"This can't be real."

She tried to wrap her head around this revelation. Outside, men shouted as they sparred. Ria ran a hand down her face.

Whatever had happened, she knew she had to do something. Sighing, the surgeon dropped down in front of the chest.

Alright. If this is the Hinterlands, I need to be well prepared.

Luckily, it was free to open. As expected, the chest had some interesting things to loot: a long dagger, a pouch of coins, leather gauntlets, steel greaves and a belt. Ria took a few minutes to stare at the contents.

On the endtable though, there was a large modern stainless steel case. Just the familiarity of the case made her sigh in relief. She opened it, surprised to find some emergency medicine, syringes, needles, bandages, surgical tools etc.

Ria stood staring at it. How did this get here?

Whatever the reason, she wasn't complaining.

With shaking hands, she fumbled with the weapon and armour. It was then that she noticed her own clothes- she wasn't wearing her scrubs anymore. She was wearing a black tunic and forest green trousers. Medieval style.

The belt and gauntlets were easy enough, but she had some trouble securing the breastplate and greaves. After some cursing and fumbling, she did it.

Suddenly, there was a loud rapping on the door, making her jump sky high.

"Someone in there?" called a man's voice.

She hesitated for a bit before opening the door. A middle aged man in light armour stood there, frowning.

"What are you doing there, soldier?" He squinted at her face. "I haven't seen you before. Who are you?"

"I…" she said, sweating. "Ria. I'm… a new recruit."

"Alright, Ria. Why aren't you training with the others? There are lots of jobs to do- no time for mucking about."

"Yes, sir," she said instantly. Almost habitually, she thought bitterly. Years of working under consultants military style in the hospital had her used to such situations.

The soldier nodded and walked away. She breathed out a sigh, but the knot of tension in her remained.

What was she supposed to do? What jobs could she do here?

Survival… I've got to survive.

Ria went back into the cabin and tucked the case under an arm. Then she stepped out again.

Her eyes went to the woman in chantry robes. Could that be… Mother Giselle? The idea was so weird that another nervous laugh came out.

Okay, a plan. That was what she needed. She always planned- before surgery, before consulting patients… before anything, really. If you fail to plan, you plan to fail- that was her motto.

Ria scanned the landscape: Mother Giselle was with her healers to the right, training soldiers in the distance, commonfolk trading and talking everywhere.

Right, if I'm going to stay alive here, I've got to be able to defend myself. Then, she thought with a glance at the wounded. Maybe I could help the healers out.

As she made her way- awkwardly- to the soldiers, Ria's stomach churned nervously.

She was getting closer, and some of the soldiers were starting to notice her now. Most of them were men, a couple of them women. A tall man with dark eyebrows saw her approach. He walked towards her.

"Here to train?" he asked.

"Er… yes. Yes, I am."

"Are you a new recruit?"

"Yes…" she fidgeted with the case before answering. "This might sound… ridiculous, but I've never used a sword before."

The man blinked. "Never?"

"Never."

He considered her a moment. "Where are you from? You don't sound entirely Ferelden."

At least she was ready for this. "I came to Ferelden when I was young."

"I see…" he said, though he didn't comment on the fact she didn't answer his question. Thank God.

"Alright, then," he continued. "The Inquisition always welcomes fresh faces. Go talk to Bevan and he will teach you the basics."

"Thank you."

"Oh, and soldier? What was your name?"

"Ria."

"Welcome to the Inquisition."

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It turned out she didn't have to worry so much about making a fool of herself. The big bear of a guy- Bevan- was a good teacher. They went painfully slow at first, and she felt really self conscious. But she quickly realized everyone else was too busy to take notice. The sword eventually felt more comfortable in her hand, and Bevan even complimented her moves.

"You're a natural, girl!" he boomed, grinning. "You look slim as an elf. But you're stronger than I thought."

It must be all the retractions I do for hours in theatre.

"Good flow, good technique. A little awkward, but you're a beginner. I certainly don't recommend you go out with the other scouts any time soon."

"Yeah, definitely."

"Alright, one more time!" he said, lunging at her.

They kept at it all day, and Bevan pushed her harder and harder. By the end of it all, she was seriously exhausted and bruised from being hit with the flat of the blade.

She didn't even have the chance to think about everything that had happened- sleep took her when she hit the bedroll.

For the next week, training continued with Bevan and he took the time to explain what was happening in the Hinterlands. The Templars and the mages were warring against each other, and the soldiers were trying to protect the villagers and serve the inquisition. The refugees needed food, clothing, blankets etc and they were quickly running short of supplies. There was also news that the Herald himself would be coming soon.

At this, Ria's ears pricked up. The Herald? Despite the weirdness of everything, Ria was still a fan of DAI. After meeting Corporal Vale, she had to admit she wanted to see the others in real life. If this was even real…

Part of her had expected to wake up in the bed at hospital. After all, it had been a stressful shift. It could have been a long dream. But no, she was still in Thedas. Dreams were never this long.

And to be honest, she needed a break from surgery and the hospital. Maybe this wasn't so bad… if she didn't die. Besides, she was getting the hang of fighting. She still hadn't gotten round to talking to Mother Giselle. The training was draining her stamina and she slept like a rock at the end of the day.

Today, though, Bevan was off to investigate some Mage/Templar activity on the road so she was free to do whatever she wanted.

In the distance, she saw the dusky face of the chantry Mother and approached her. The woman was tending an injured man, who shuddered as she loosened the bandages. She shook her head in sympathy.

"He needs debridement and a good wash out," she heard herself blurt out.

Mother Giselle turned around, surprised.

"And you are?" she asked in her thick Orlesian accent, expression uncertain.

Ria sighed inwardly. People tended to look at her that way. She had learned long ago that her default face could be intimidating.

"Oh… right. I'm Ria, a new recruit. But I do have experience in surgery."

"You do?" the Mother said, eyebrows climbing. "Well, that is a pleasant surprise. But tell me, what did you mean by debridement?"

"Just... trimming the edges, eliminating non- viable tissue so that the wound heals properly when you seal it."

The Mother blinked, just like Corporal Vale had. "I have never heard of such a thing."

"Well… what do you people do here?"

"We clean the wound with water and use poultices. Our healers make excellent relieving salves for the pain."

The patient moaned, letting out shallow breaths.

"This man, unfortunately, is not healing very well."

Ria knelt to examine.

Long gash, probably cuts down to the deep fascia, erythematous, oozing… swollen?

She poked around the wound, feeling a non fluctuant mass just lateral to it. Ria felt the man's forehead and noticed an ulcer in his foot and some dry, red skin on his arms.

Feverish, the abscess is probably deep, long standing dermatitis could have invited the infection. Ulcer on his foot...

"Excuse me," she said to the groaning man, noticing him clutching his abdomen. "What's wrong with your belly?"

"Urgh….mkdf."

"…"

"Hurts sometimes… here and back."

"When did that start?"

"Been for years… but last night… ale…"

Hmm. "Was this a cup or bottle?"

"Few bottles... argh…."

Ria looked at Mother Giselle. "Do you know if he's an alcoholic?"

She stared at Ria.

"I mean... does he drink lots of ale? Any other symptoms?"

"Not that I am aware of."

No jaundice, no other symptoms. Can probably manage with the usual protocol.

"Well, I think he has poor blood sugar control," Ria explained.

"How do you know?"

"Wound hasn't been healing properly, easy infections, ulcer in his foot, epigastric pain, drinks lots of ale- probably pancreatitis with diabetes. Dermatitis could have also let in the infection. He needs analgesia and the abscess needs to be drained. Also, no offence meant, but that stitch looks very unclean. I have some sterile suture so I can redo it for you."

She opened her case, hands itching to do something. This was probably the easiest presentation she had come across in a long time.

After washing her hands thoroughly, she removed the stitches, cleaned it with chlorhexidine and debrided it after injecting some local. She drained the pus, washed the cavity with saline and packed it with gauze.

Man, the case is handy, she thought as she stood up. Mother Giselle was staring at her.

"All done. When he wakes up he'll need controlled mor- I mean, medicine to help with the pain. Lots of fluid, no eating. We need to check the abscess again later."

"Well… I must say, I have not seen such methods. You were a surgeon, did you say?"

"Yes."

"Then perhaps… you should join us, my dear."