cadashingrogue

[cadashingrogue]

INDEFINITE HIATUS

[cadashingrogue]

Zera had been about to shoot back a remark, but stopped when Dorian shook his head. Her arms folded across her bust, shoulders lowering. “And no one’s sayin’ you have to apologize. Don’t. If he ain’t worthy of it, don’t do it. He hurt you. You’re allowed to be angry.”

“It does not help, actually,” Dorian snapped sharply, then paused, shaking his his head. Zera was only trying to help, he knew, in her blunt-spoken way. “I apologize. That was unworthy of me. I do appreciate it, Inquisitor. I… don’t know if I can forgive him.”

[cadashingrogue]

“Well I mean, the hand’s a good start.” Zera gestures with her eyes at her own left hand, the glowy one, but it’s more a hot pain than a source of comfy warmth. 

Zera’s thick brows lift when Ruiha pulls back just a touch, and it’s something about that look that makes her relent in the way she’d been adamantly objecting such cold calloused hands beneath her shirt.

She does curl back a little, shoulders scrunching upwards with a slight hiss between the gap in her teeth. “I ain’t mean.”

But still, she wraps her arms around the Warden as best  she can. While she might complain, she’s still made no  move or indication that Ru should back off.

“How am I supposed t’do that? Y’got  some magic tricks   iunno about?” Her words are slightly mumbled against   Zera, though they’re still (relatively) understandable.   Thankfully the shivering is gone as she leaches all the   warmth she can, allowing her to pull back just enough to   give her friend a look, coupled with a pout (and maybe    she’s taking a cue from Kilina or maybe the child’s taken   it from her, whose to say).     “I resent that, I have not been jus’ standin’ around.” and so    she rewraps herself around the younger woman, hands    still just a bit chilly now spreading the cold around her torso    in retaliation. “Mean.”   

[cadashingrogue]

Character Flaws

bunchofrpmemes:

Bold the ones that apply to your character:

absent-minded | abusive | addict | aggressive | aimless | alcoholic | anxious | arrogant | audacious | bad liar | bigmouth | bigot | blindly obedient | blunt | callous | childish | chronic heroism | clingy | clumsy | cocky | competitive | corrupt | cowardly | cruel | cynical | delinquent | delusional | dependent | depressed | deranged | disloyal | ditzy | egotistical | envious | erratic | fickle | finicky | flaky | frail | fraudulent | guilt complex | gloomy | gluttonous | gossiper | gruff | gullible | hedonistic | humorless | hypochondriac | hypocritical | idealist | idiotic | ignorant | immature | impatient | incompetent | indecisive | insecure | insensitive | lazy | lewd | liar | lustful | manipulative | masochistic | meddlesome | melodramatic | money-loving | moody | naive | nervous | nosy | ornery |  overprotective | overly sensitive | paranoid | passive-aggressive | perfectionist | pessmist | petty | power-hungry | proud | pushover | reckless | reclusive | remorseless | rigorous | sadistic |sarcastic | senile | selfish | self-martyr | shallow | sociopathic | sore loser | spineless | spiteful | spoiled | stubborn | tactless |temperamental | timid | tone-deaf | traitorous | unathletic | ungracious | unlucky | unsophisticated | untrustworthy | vain | withdrawn |workaholic

[cadashingrogue]

@spiritmark

“If it helps any,” Zera pauses, trying to stand just a touch taller as she looks to Dorian leaning against the railing. “You’re not the only one with a shitty da, ya know. Least yours still cares, even if it’s not the right way to care.”

[cadashingrogue]

ooookay so I kinda dropped everything in my drafts save for one thread but uh I’d like to low key get back in the groove here? I’ve been doing a lot for Zera’s pt over the christmas break (which I won’t be able to do after the 25th since I wont be here w/ my gaming pc rip) but yeah, Zera is my smol anger child of the stone so I do wanna just... be here if I can.

[cadashingrogue]

The key to being successful was to remain calm, unsuspecting, and level headed. Zera had struggled, being so young but had learned with a few scars earned the best way for a drop was to act as if you were just there for a good time. 

Another drink warmed her throat down into her belly, rather enjoying the quality of the tavern’s ale in comparison to what used to be had in Dust Town. It wasn’t until she heard the slew of an insult down the line of the bar, drawing her attention away from the door.

Zera hardly got another sip in before the woman in question returned the chide and soon, chaos broke out among the patrons with weapons drawing and punches being thrown. Decidedly in that moment, she finished what was in her stein (after all, she had paid good coin for it), and then kept to her stool only momentarily before a bottle was thrown at her direction. Out of reflex, the rogue ducked and threw what was in her hand in the general direction the bottle had come from, allowing the heavy made mug to be thrown half way across the bar, hitting some unknown man in the back with a heavy thud. 

Off her stool she went, finding that her preferred bow was of no use in such a crowded space, pulling the daggers from her boots in a quick draw. If she was to make the drop, she’d have to fight her way out and through people one to three times her size.

“Fun.”

Maker, why had she decided that this inn was a good place to stay the night? It was full of people to begin with, Cauthrien counted at least a dozen bludgeons at belts and she was very sure one of the gathering had recognised her. Truly, one of her worse decisions.

Cauthrien flinched at that thought. No. There had been worse. Much worse.

Perhaps she’d been drawn to the danger? Where some men liked drink, Cauthrien liked battle and her whole body felt twitchy and raw and ready to be hurt. She’d seen the atmosphere of the establishment, everyone on their later rounds, so eager for some excitement. And what did she have to lose to a fight anymore? Nothing. Nothing at all.

The hand coming down onto her shoulder had been expected, but she still flinched at the touch, even if she forced herself to stay still as she leaned her elbows on the counter. 

“Ser Cauthrien.” Men spat her name these days, she’d not been called gently for near on a year. “If I’d known the Traitor Teyrn’s bitch was going to be drinking here I’d have brought something sharper than a stick.”

She turned a level and thunderous gaze to him, locking eyes in a threat that only wolves would understand. 

“What good would that do? I expect your swordarm is as limp as your sword.”

And lo, chaos.

[cadashingrogue]

The grimace on the younger dwarf’s face doesn’t fade away as she feels a shiver go right down her back.

“So make it circulate better, I dunno!” She exclaims, but still doesn’t shoo Ruiha away.

She huffs, instead, and puts one arm over Ru’s shoulders, stomach tensing from where her hands are. “Because I haven’t been standin’ around?”

   Don’t mind her, she’s just going to cuddle right up to her    and move her hands around just a bit in the process.    “Poor circulation. That’s a thing, didya know that? I sure as    shit did not.” It was also winter time, her least favourite time,    but Zera was more than aware of both those facts already.   “How are y’so damn warm, shit.” And– yeah, she’s nuzzling   (and very lightly shivering but it’s subsiding).

[cadashingrogue]

“Get up here, the height difference is silly enough as it is!”

[cadashingrogue]

And Zera lets out a rather shrill huff of surprise at how damn cold Ru’s hands are. 

“Why are your hands so cold!?” She exclaims, but makes no move to shove Ruiha’s hands away from or out of her shirt.

Yes, she did stick her hands underneath the other’s shirt,  but can you blame her? They’re like ice. Plus, can you really stay mad at her? .

  No. You can’t. 

[cadashingrogue]

Sera! 

practice practice, eventually i would like to make one of each character ;; here is Solas one

[cadashingrogue]

I made Zera Cadash’s mother, Nika. 

She’s spent the last decade fighting darkspawn in the Deep Roads as part of the Legion of the Dead, and managed to survive and claw her way out to the surface in the lull period between the events of Inquisition and Trespasser. 

Upon seeing how things are so very different, finding out her daughter is not only the Inquisitor, but that she is also a grandma, she exclaims “Nugtits, what did I miss?”

(She’d actually have a full length beard if the CC had it, and there would be streaks of grey in her hair. She’d probably also end up having the hots for Blackwall, much to Zera’s awkward dismay.) 

[cadashingrogue]

i’m just copying what i sent to bythestone on skype bc it’s 1:30am but like

cries ok so playin Dorian's personal quest for the first time and i seriously think Zera really reconsiders her suspicions about him in that very moment bc like

the entire thing about being shamed for breaking from tradition and not being straight and producing children (though hers was unplanned but given dwaven beliefs both of children (but then of the casteless reproducing) she obviously cared more about her child as she went along

but knowing that she breaks that tradition by also being queer and like... she just feels it with dorian bc of that scrunity of a parent and akjsdfhsdjghg

#character development

[cadashingrogue]

ru livin that croptop and short shorts life

[cadashingrogue]

[ I can’t believe Bull was gonna be Zera’s original romance lmfao bye. ]

[cadashingrogue]

Know Your Lore: The Caste & The Casteless

(source)

Visitors to Orzammar should keep in mind that the hierarchies of dwarven society are much more complex than our own. It is easy to gravely insult a man simply by mistaking his position. Since this can lead to unnecessary loss of life and limbs, I will attempt to mitigate the danger for my fellow travelers.

The society of Orzammar is divided into nobles, warriors, smiths, artisans, miners, merchants, and servants. Now, you are undoubtedly saying to yourself, “We have all those divisions among our own people.” This is a dangerous misconception. Certainly, we do have nobility, artisans, merchants, and these positions are largely inherited from our parents. However, the younger children of noblemen often choose to be artisans or soldiers. The sons of merchants may join the army, or become servants, or apprentice themselves to a craftsman. This is all freely chosen. Limited, perhaps, by the circumstances of birth, but still chosen.

What is a matter of choice for most human folk is dictated entirely by birth for dwarves. No one may become a smith who was not born to Smith Caste parents. A servant who marries a noblewoman will never be a noble himself, and although his daughters would be nobles, his sons would be servants, for daughters inherit the caste of their mother, while sons inherit the caste of their father.

—From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar by Brother Genitivi

The caste system in Orzammar includes many groups of privilege–the nobility and the warriors above all others, but to a lesser degree the merchants and the smiths and the miners. Tradition establishes a clear hierarchy. But as in any culture with an upper class, there is also a clear underclass. These unfortunates, the so-called “casteless,” are believed to be descendants of criminals and other undesirables. They have been looked down upon since Orzammar’s foundation. They have taken up residence in a place called “Dust Town,” a crumbling ruin on the fringe of Orzammar’s common areas.

Orzammar society considers these casteless lower than even the Servant Caste (indeed, the casteless are not allowed to become servants, as it is too honorable a position). They are seen as little better than animals, their faces branded at birth to mark them as the bastard children of the kingdom. Their home district, little more than a slum, is a haven for crime, organized and otherwise. Orzammar’s guards seemingly cannot be bothered to patrol its streets. The best that most casteless dwarves can hope for is a life at the whim of a local crime lord, ended abruptly by violence or an overabundance of toxic lichen ale.

Even so, there is some hope for the casteless, a dangling rope that offers a way up into greater Orzammar society. Since a dwarf’s caste is determined by the parent of the same sex, the male child of a nobleman is part of that noble’s house and caste. Strangely, it is acceptable for casteless women to train in the arts of courtly romance to woo nobles and warriors; they are known as “noble hunters.” Any male born from such a union is considered a joyous event, considering the low rate of dwarven fertility. The mother and entire family are then taken in by the father’s house, although they retain their caste.

The dwarves we know on the surface are also considered casteless once they leave Orzammar, although this is only relevant to those who return–if they are allowed to return at all. Dwarves who leave for the surface (the “sun-touched,” as they’re often called behind their backs) lose their connection to the Stone and the favor of the ancestors, and thus are worthy of little more than pity, for upon dying they are said to be lost to the Stone forever. Put that way, it seems a sad existence indeed.

—From Stone Halls of the Dwarves by Brother Genitivi, Chantry scholar

[cadashingrogue]

uzo aduba as hannibal lecter gave me fucking CHILLS