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[directfromthedas]

@eritvita starter for youuu <3

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When making port, Isabela would rarely travel far from the closest tavern from the docks. Even rarer would she put herself at such a risk by wandering all on her lonesome through woodlands and wilderness outside of civilised borders, but on that day people had grown exceedingly tiresome. She needed to put it all away. Ignore the world, and her crew, for at least one afternoon. To see something more natural than cobbled streets and loathsome pettiness

As she wandered through a nearby wooded path on the edge of town, she wandered past a graveyard, surrounded by tall trees which only let green light past through them and reach the ground. A light which soothed her human brain, that little part she often denied in herself which craved peace and comfort.

She was so used to the harshness of the exposed sky when out at sea that something as simple as the air in a lesser-trodden wooded area was exactly the type of comfort she needed that day. Yet still only a comfort she would feel able to indulge in while on her own, especially without any of her crewmates around to witness such simple pleasures.

Of course she still brought a bottle of dark whiskey with her on her retreat. She wasn't sure if there ever would be a day she didn't bring a bottle with her. The effect it had on her, to hold her tongue when frustrations gripped her, was often what she felt that she needed.

Though irritation still prickled her skin. It was clear in the way she stomped, heels crunching shed plant matter on the forest floor, as it slowly turned to humus. The patient nature of the forest was still lost on her. She had never been the type for meditation; she left that to the chantry priests, while she found her solace in a bottle.

[directfromthedas]

Whenever people started cooking meat in the firepits in Skyhold, it would always attract some sort of crowd. Drawn over by the delicious scent, and in turn everyone's craving for the fresh, hot meat would birth tiny little hunger demons. The size of a fist, at first.

They would sprout up from the coals. Like the coal itself, red-hot, got up and started walking. Wandering off to find some living flesh to render into a fresh roast.

Cooked meat was a rarity in Skyhold. Not many large creatures made their way close enough to the castle, and the hunting parties rarely felt like hauling an adult stag up the mountain. Then there was a matter of skinning and butchering. It was easier to prepare vegetables, or rice. With the ground so frozen the residents had grown accustomed to meals of spinach, carrots, and cabbage. Filling enough, but people still craved the fresh cooked meat. Sometimes the scent of it birthed more hunger than the hunger itself.

The number of people housed within the castle grew from dozens to hundreds. Strays and refugees, those the Inquisition gladly cared for, but fewer and fewer of those who joined were hunters. As the population of Skyhold continued to grow, so too did the little nursery of hunger.

Cole did his best to keep up with them. To visit anyone with hunger pangs (he felt such kinship with). To tell them where they could find some filling brown rice. To encourage them to cook, he would find the ingredients they'd need and scatter them close, so the convenience made it easier for them. So they wouldn't have to burn as many calories to gain. (but) this work brought Cole closer to the thing which brought him through the veil in the first place... and sometimes he felt like he attended to these little hunger demons out of his own fears.

He couldn't yet tell if his own mind was human enough (mortal enough)(tangible enough) to create demons of its own. But sometimes when he felt other people's burning hunger, the cravings that birthed so many little hunger demons; he felt his own rise up within him. And he sometimes felt the pangs again.

[directfromthedas]

starter call

like for a random starter with isabela, the pirate rogue

[directfromthedas]

starter call

like for a random starter with cole, spirit of compassion

[directfromthedas]

mobile rules

I don’t have rules per say, just some disclaimers..

-> Activity levels will be variable. Reminders are always welcome, as are random inbox memes/messages.

-> Semi-selective and non-biased; OC & Crossover friendly. Happy to interact with non-mutuals, especially in the case of sideblogs.

-> I don’t format my posts unless I’m feeling fancy. I don’t mind how you choose to format, if at all. 

-> Most IC posts will be in the Dragon Age setting or other somewhat adaptive fantasy settings.

-> If I forget to specify my muse when sending an ask or liking a call, just assume the ask is from Isabela. If you forget or otherwise don’t specify, I’ll spin the muse roulette wheel.

[directfromthedas]

Nug Surana, skills

Credit to diebeskunst  —  Inspired by this Sheet Not based on the official DARP Character Sheet

“Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”           – The Old Astronomer (To His Pupil), Sarah Williams

General Skills

★★★★★ Climbing (elves are cat furries pass it on) ★★★☆☆ Riding ★☆☆☆☆ Swimming ★★★★☆ Tracking (specifically darkspawn & blighted creatures) ★★☆☆☆ Cooking ★★★★☆ First Aid (restricted healing magic makes this vital knowledge) ★★★★★ Survival (lived independently, wandering, for multiple years)

Armour and Weapons

Armour style: Light at range, medium plate in melee. He favours manoeuvrability & if he gets stranded somewhere, especially alone, he needs to be able to move and equip himself.  Favourite weapon: Vigilance (longsword). Forged in 9:31. Stolen by Naughty Crows in 9:33 :’( Other weapons: Spellweaver (longsword), Unnamed bladed staff, Unnamed daggers Shield: Fade Wall

★★★★★ Edged weapons ★★☆☆☆ Dual wielding ☆☆☆☆☆ Crushing weapons (cannot swing without combat magic active) ☆☆☆☆☆ Two-handed weapons (as above) ★☆☆☆☆ Thrown weapons ★☆☆☆☆ Archery

Crafting Skills

★★★★☆ Herbalism ★☆☆☆☆ Poison-Making ★★☆☆☆ Traps-Making ★☆☆☆☆ Armour-Crafting (can make crude/makeshift armour on the fly) ★☆☆☆�� Weapon-Crafting (as above) ★★★★☆ Rune-Crafting

Influence Skills

★★★★☆ Acting ☆☆☆☆☆ Appraisal ★☆☆☆☆ Bribery (tends to offer way too much) ★★★★☆ Diplomacy ☆☆☆☆☆ Gambling ★★☆☆☆ Interrogation ★★★★☆ Leadership ★★★☆☆ Public Speaking ★☆☆☆☆ Seduction ★☆☆☆☆ Trading (rocky experiences trading sex and lyrium) ★★★★★ Trickery

Rogue Skills

★★☆☆☆ Lock picking ★★★★☆ Disarming Traps ★★☆☆☆ Pick-Pocketing 

TALENTS:

★☆☆☆☆ Sabotage ★★★☆☆ Scoundrel ★★★★☆ Specialist ★★☆☆☆ Subterfuge

SPECIALISATIONS:

★☆☆☆☆ Assassin ★☆☆☆☆ Duelist ★★☆☆☆ Shadow ★☆☆☆☆ Bard ★★★☆☆ Ranger (re: barkspawn, zelda, and theneras) ★★★☆☆ Legionnaire Scout ★★★★★ Other –> Arcane Trickster

With combat magic active he can easily match a 300lb warrior, but he has trained his dexterity as any other rogue would. Sleight of hand served him well in the circle tower, however; it is stealth and obfuscation that he values most, having found it essential during his time in hiding.

Warrior Skills

TALENTS:

★★★☆☆ Battlemaster ★☆☆☆☆ Defender ★★☆☆☆ Vanguard ☆☆☆☆☆ Warmonger

SPECIALIZATIONS:

★☆☆☆☆ Reaver ☆☆☆☆☆ Templar ☆☆☆☆☆ Berserker ★★★★☆ Champion ★★★★★ Spirit Warrior ☆☆☆☆☆ Guardian ★★★★★ Other –> Emerald Knight

Two basic premises of Nug’s fighting style are longevity & adaptability, both of which are warrior staples. Knowing how to control a battle & direct a team, and being able to efficiently utilise even the crudest of weapons found in the field, are skills he credits to his warrior training.

Mage Skills

SPELLS:

★☆☆☆☆ Arcane ★★★☆☆ Elemental (winter affinity) ★★★☆☆ Primal (storm affinity) ★★★☆☆ Spirit ★★★★☆ Creation (glyphs + nature for bonus dmg to darkspawn) ★☆☆☆☆ Entropy

SPECIALIZATIONS:

★★★★★ Arcane Warrior (primary fighting style) ★★☆☆☆ Blood Mage (more theoretical than practical: for study & sustainability) ★☆☆☆☆ Shapeshifter (non-combat: for stealth, survival, and dissociating) ☆☆☆☆☆ Spirit Healer (blood magic makes spirit communication harder) ★★★★★ Battle Mage ★★★★★ Keeper (nature magic !! crush darkspawn !!) ★★★★★ Other –> Power of Blood & Blight Magic

While he had raw somniari power on his side as an apprentice, training with the Wardens has made him a far more disciplined and efficient mage. His experiences, and later his bond with Urthemiel, have allowed him to develop exceptional willpower and a wide scope of knowledge.

Other

★★★★★  Read / Write

LANGUAGES:

★★★★★ Orlesian (1st language, spoken with father, formal tower lessons) ★★★★★ Kings (2nd language, from circle tower lessons & exposure) ★★★★☆ Ander (3rd language, from formal study in weisshaupt) ★★★★★ Ancient Tevene (urthemiel’s understanding became nug’s own) ★★☆☆☆ Tevene (some of ancient tevene is still there…. + exposure) ★★☆☆☆ Elvhen (southern dalish dialect; from zathrian’s clan & velanna) ★★★★☆ Elvhen Runes (from studying flemeth’s grimoire) ☆☆☆☆☆ Ancient Elvhen ★☆☆☆☆ Antivan (basics picked up from zevran & antivan guides) ☆☆☆☆☆ Rivaini ★☆☆☆☆ Qunlat (basics picked up from sten & exposure)

[directfromthedas]

answer gotta be... multimuse

HMMM but do i revive my nug blog or my this blog

[directfromthedas]

HMMM but do i revive my nug blog or my this blog

[directfromthedas]

considering.... a revival....

[directfromthedas]

if DA4 protag has an “origin” and the grey wardens is indeed one of them.... which the newest trailer seems to strongly suggest... then plausibly i could even write nug’s alternate persona lahaalan joining undercover... 

[directfromthedas]

it’s looking more likely that the next DA game is gonna feature some kind of blight... two-headed dragon, potentially lusacan and razikale after ghilan’nain smashes them into one creature??? or maybe they got terraformed by the titans waking up... 

[directfromthedas]

very serious dragon age 4 prediction

[directfromthedas]

Lips press together to catch any more snorts of humiliating emotion before they slip out. He shrugs at Loghain’s inquiry, forcing nonchalance. “They have a certain appeal,” though making little effort to conceal the smile still playing across his lips. “Did you know they have two spines?” 

A nod of seriousness follows, head dropping back to the maps as he makes mental notes of preparation. There was always someone in the Felicisima Armada making port in Amaranthine. They could get a message to the Siren’s Call and Loghain could make preparations in the meantime. 

He laughs freely, imagining the pirate directing Loghain around her ship. “Well, you don’t need experience to follow a seasoned Captain. If I can track her down, that is, and she’s not got her own adventure to attend to.” With all the news coming out of Kirkwall these days, it was nearly impossible to predict.

"Though, Isabela’s gonna have a field day if you get sea-sick,” he snorts.

—✕ █ ▌It was a shame that fate was hand in hand with a former distrust of the Wardens, however much he knows they may still SCHEME behind the walls of Weisshaupt. A tilt of head framed by dark locks; Nug, at least is FORTHRIGHT.

They both are in a bit of a mess, aren’t they? And yet, Loghain is uncertain if he truly cares —- they survived the Blight together; is that not enough to AFFIRM solidarity?

An eyebrow raises; this particular mood a STRANGE one he’s not accustomed to, Loghain is not certain of how to react for quite some time. Griffons, yes; wouldn’t they be useful? ❝So, fond of griffons, are we?❞ Something to make note of, certainly. On his journey, he’d like be busy whittling away with wood to calm his nerves, and WHAT ELSE would he whittle but a griffon?

Knowing smile or no, he halts himself before rejecting the topic entirely. Truth be told, Loghain would much prefer talking about the fabled mounts of legend than to plan a seaward journey, but this was his plan and he will, he MUST see it through.

❝Yes, LOVELY to see you too.❞ And despite the stiff words and boundaries he’s uncertain about breaching, he’s honest enough. He’s not a talent for being so open, not unless he’s in the PRESENCE of those he considers his family. ❝But … no, I’ve not the experience. I know somewhat of what it means to commandeer a ship for WAR, but even then, knowledge is mostly saved for theories and games we play upon table tops.❞

[directfromthedas]

dragon age 4 confirmed to be everybody’s worst nightmare

ghilan’nain is responsible for this isn’t she ㅠㅡㅠ

[directfromthedas]

“Oh, no? Not interested in striking me from the front, then?” He nods, confident in the power he now holds over the veteran general. “Be the better man and wait for me to turn around. People’s backs are just an easier target, right? I get it.” He sneers, teeth bared.

By all rights, Loghain should be the man in charge. He was the more experienced, the better respected, and he wasn’t likely to corrupt a demon if he had a bad day. Yet some sick fate had left Loghain at Vhennug’s mercy. A pity, then, that nobody ever taught the boy real mercy.

Alistair had abandoned him instead of standing with Loghain, and had taken his morality with him. Leliana died defending her religion, and her ethical guidelines bleed out alongside with her. And Wynne... Wynne was all too forgiving.

There was nobody left to hold Vhennug back. Nobody to stop his sick sense of humour from carrying him to the end of his torment. Though distinctly less physical of a torture than what he endured after surrendering to Ser Cauthrien. Perhaps it’s those memories which drive him now. 

He watches Loghain bow with a shaky breath, and barks a laugh. “Did you pick up that habit of bowing to your superiors during the occupation? Honestly, I didn’t think such a wobbly little dip would cut it for an Orlesian lord.”

Only half of him really wants Loghain to return and escalate the situation. The other is rather relieved to see Loghain turn and retreat from his abuse, even as he indulgences in dishing out a little bit more.

—✕ █ ▌The sadistic pleasure confuses and nettles him. He expected HOSTILITY by his sparing, surely, but not to be treated like a toy under a cat’s paw. A tool perhaps, an end to a means, but not the subject of verbal torture. His hand curls into a fist, the heel of his boot curving in the dirt, grounding him, keeping him focused.

Breathe in. Out. It’s what you DESERVE, isn’t it?

❝Whatever,❞ he finally says, features TWITCHING before they cool. Falsified, of course, but he couldn’t dare to manage his trauma, whisper his prayers in front of his tormentor. ❝If you’re asking for a bloody nose, I’m not interested. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Commander, I need to go ahead and plot treasons in PEACE.❞

Self mocking his bow which follows - let me be the monster you think of me - and though he’s no practitioner of bardic arts or espionage, he’s REMARKABLY clear headed. Holding it all in. A sharp breath through his nose before he turns heel with the full intention of stewing in silence within the next confines of his tent.

[directfromthedas]

darkdabbling​:

     She sees his sword glint in the light as bright as his grin. His confident words cause her lips to curl and eyes to roll. Ugh, he’s one of those. Just what she needs. Despite it, there’s something about his earlier reply that makes him seem…uninformed.

             An easy target. Kill him and move on.

    Liliana just shakes her head. ❝Don’t be so naive, child. Fighting me is not a viable idea. You’ll only end up on death’s doorstep.❞ Besides the fact that she’ll really have to slaughter him, it could throw a wrench in her plans. Granted, she hadn’t one-hundred percent decided on whether or not she planned to defect. Either way, no one could catch wind of such a thought. ❝I won’t stop my zombies from attacking you after this encounter. The enemy you should be most afraid of is the dragon atop the Citadel.❞

      Her voice lowers and glances around quickly. She can’t risk Bolas seeing her nor Tezzeret or any of the others. Not yet.  ❝As far as the Immortal Sun goes, it’s one of the most powerful artifacts in existence. It’s said it could give command over nature, eternal life and boundless wealth. Really it’s intended use is to trap planeswalkers and keep us from traveling throughout the multiverse.❞

     Her gaze turns back to him and the blade in his grasp before she sighs.  ❝For the record you’re on the plane of Ravnica.❞

“Dragon atop a citadel, huh?”  Déjà vu amplifies; mind clinging to the familiar to give himself some footing in this foreign plane. “I’ve killed one of those, before. We called it an archdemon, though.” 

His head swivels, searching for what could most likely be the Citadel. The wall of ice around him cracks and melts.

The necromancer’s explanation gives him pause. Trapped? His bravado slips. Elven ears droop, pupils dilate. He turns his back to the woman, rotating in place under pretense of observing his surroundings.

Was that truly possible? An entirely different plane of existence... And he’s stuck in it. That would certainly explain the lack of spiritual energy in the air. No spirits, no fade... no lyrium. Nothing to respond to his spells except the magic in his own blood. 

Any spell he casts here will weaken him. Even his combat magic will bruise his body to fuel itself. He checks his belts for supplies, breathing a soft sigh of relief when his palm smooths over a pouch of lyrium potions. At least he’ll have a little bit to top up his mana pool later. For now, he’ll just have to rely on his martial talents. 

“Ravnica,” he repeats. “Okay... Thanks,” he pauses. Taking a tentative step toward the stranger, as he intends to walk beside her should she start moving. “So, to get this straight... that dragon is your enemy, too, and you’re trying to stop this Immortal Sun thing from trapping us here. Yeah?”

[directfromthedas]

theharellan​:

So he was a Circle apprentice once, though long enough ago that all self-evident traces of it has been bled out of him. At least at first acquaintance, some scars cut deeper than others.

“There is scarcely a Circle left to do so,” Solas notes, “but I take your meaning.” Apostates and the newly rebel mages ought to be easy allies, the former having lived the life the latter now fight for, yet reality complicates matters. Their existence outside Chantry law made them dangerous bedfellows, too easy for detractors to point to and make claims of blood magic, regardless of whether or not such claims had any truth to them.

He breathes in. The air is thick, energy dammed by an unseen force, though its presence can be felt all around him, blanketing the fabric of reality as the snow covers the earth. In the near distance, the Breach thunders, and all at once that pressure begins to bleed, magic flowing as a river in spring. If they do not act quickly it will flood the world, rapids drowning them all as the Fade bursts forth. Sitting here is a waste of precious time.

“I have.” Conversation is not distraction enough to spare him from his restlessness, fingers knit together between his knees as he tries not to run through a list of what tests to conduct when (if) they grant him permission to study the Rifts. Instead, his thoughts turn to escape.

As if sensing his thoughts, the Templar’s eyes roam over him. Gooseflesh pricks the skin along his spine, hairs along the back of his hands rising.

“Not to this level, naturally, but I have wandered in places where the Veil is thin, worn down to a thread by tragedy– or else reckless fools who thought to tear it themselves. But this…” His gaze wanders. “It seems ill-advised to even consider comparing them.”

It was probably common news that the Circles had collapsed. Vhennug stays quiet on the topic. Living under a rock for five years apparently left him out of the news loops, who knew. Awakened darkspawn knew all the great Deep Roads dives, but they didn’t exactly keep up with human politics. Nor did they attract many demons through the veil.

This breach didn’t look like the work of demons, though. Other tears Nug had seen were torn from inside the fade, barely big enough to fit a demon through. 

This was like a siege weapon had smashed a hole through a heavily armored keep wall. Blown apart in a single, massive explosion. Not just to damage it, but with a strength to nearly shatter its fabric entirely. 

Nug’s jaw trembles at the implication, and he forces himself to look away. Turning his back on the breach seems to be the only effective deterrent. He hums idly at the stranger’s response, catching the Templar’s gaze as he turns. 

He watches the Templar clench her fists by her side. Likely wrestling with the decision to break up the conversation those two suspicious mages were having. 

As the Templar frowns at the pair, Vhennug smiles plainly and offers a short wave. The Templar blinks in confusion, but seems to relax. She doesn’t interrupt, at least.

“True enough,” he sighs, hand dropping back to his side. "This is several orders of magnitude larger than any tear I’ve seen demons make. There’s got to be some kind of engineering behind it.” He hesitates. Eyes flick to the green glow illuminating off of the snow, but he holds himself firmly still and doesn’t turn back around. “I imagine everyone’s already started making accusations,” he chuckles, “but this does seem like a distinctly ‘Tevinter’ sort of thing to do.”