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Just outside the village of Lothering, along the southern road a portal appeared ten feet off the ground. The silence of the cold and misty morning was broken by a screaming man falling through said portal and landing in a leafless hedge. Had the few birds in the area understood human they would have scandalised by the lengthy and incredibly colourful swearing that immediately followed this unorthodox landing. As it was they just decided to fly away. The rather ruffled looking man eventually exhausted his vocabulary and picked his hat up, briefly polishing the sequins that spelt out WIZZARD before placing it on his head. He also picked up a new acquisition; a backpack.

His accursed colleagues of the Unseen University had all but thrown him through the portal with promises that they would keep it open for as long as possible, and yes he would be able to get back through, and no there wasn't time for one last cup of tea or an alteration of his will. Utter bastards though they were they had surprised him with their common sense at providing him with some supplies. This surprise faded when he opened the backpack and only found 19 pairs of mismatched woollen socks, a small stack of cheese sandwiches wrapped in old newspaper and a pouch of spare sequins for his hat.

Search of inventory completed Rincewind looked round. "So in review" he said to himself "I'm alone and stuck in a strange new world. I've no idea whether it's inhabited, or if these hypothetical locals are friendly or even if I can understand them. No map, no compass and no way to track the Luggage other than 'follow the mayhem'." He sighed, "In conclusion; bloody typical."

At this point a human shaped shadow loomed out of the mist, followed by several more. Rincewind spotted them and, in a bout of ludicrous optimism, tried the diplomatic approach.

"Hello there! I don't suppose you've seen a walking, wooden chest around here? Or if you could tell where I am that would also be pretty useful. Hopefully we can understand each other without having to resort to mime."

The lead Darkspawn snarled and drew his sword, emerging from the fog. Many adventurers would react to by preparing to fight and provide some suitably witty one-liners on the side. Rincewind was not one of those adventurers; instead he turned around, hitched up his robes and ran like hell.

Honestly after appearing in a new world and meeting completely unfamiliar monsters the running was almost reassuring.

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Over a giant map of Thedas a woman looked on as her favourite mortal began to explore this new land at his usual brisk pace. She smiled affectionately. The man opposite pursed his lips as though he had just swallowed something extremely bitter.

"That is the oddest looking Mage I've ever seen and I've been to Tevinter." said Andraste.

Her Lizard counterpart could only nod.

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"So, just to clarify you want me to track down a mad hermit through the forest to retrieve your stolen acorn and in return you will realise the chest and provide us with some of your skin that will get us to the Werewolf lair."

"Indeed, perform this simple quest,

Then I will return your walking chest."

"I say we burn the tree" grumbled Sten.

"But then the flesh creatures would have to carry their own goods, which would naturally break your feeble spines." Shale paused, "except the Qunari's."

Those two get on rather well Odin thought absentmindedly before returning to the task at hand.

"All right we'll find your acorn, just please look after our chest, don't crush it or get even more emotionally attached."

"I look forward to your return my mortal friends

Perhaps then my solitude will come to a permanent end.

Until then I shall hold your chest

It shall be retrieved by completing this quest."

The group headed back up the path, Odin grimaced.

"Sten, your burning plan is our back up," the stoic warrior nodded, "For now however. Poacher! Can you smell out this hermit?

The dog wagged its' tail. He always enjoyed a good hunt.

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"Ask a question and you'll get a question, but give an answer and receive the same! Oh! I do so love to trade!"

They had found the hermit.

"Would you like to ask a question?"

Unfortunately he was completely insane.

"May I? Oh yes I think I might!"

Even more unfortunately, Morrigan and Wynne had sensed that he was also a powerful mage.

"What is your name?"

"Odin Brosca"

"What is your quest?"

"Here's the list, there're all marked down."

"What is the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow?"

"Hang on! First how in the name of the ancestors am supposed to know that? Secondly why do you need to know that? In any case by your own rules I now have two questions to ask."

"But you just asked two questions yourself!" protested the madman.

"They were…what do call it… rhetorical." Odin cunningly replied "They don't count since I wasn't asking you. Now about my actual two questions…"

"Fine, fine ask your questions!" ranted the deranged mage.

"Do you have the Grand Oak's acorn?"

"Yes"

"Can I have it?"

"Yes"

"Well that was easy" said a complacent Alistair.

"As soon as you tell me what the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow is!" finished the hermit now laughing manically.

"What do you mean?" asked Morrigan, sounding rather smug, "Is it a Ferelden or a Free March Swallow?"

The hermit looked like he was about answer, then he stopped and his eyes narrowed at the witch.

"Oh no, that's how they got me before! Just take the blasted acorn and go!"

He promptly disappeared, leaving a large acorn on the ground.

"How does the Swamp Witch know so much about Swallows?" asked Shale, disturbed by all things Ornithological.

She smiled slyly "You have to know these things when you're a shape shifter."

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