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hear ye, hear ye! what ya gonna do when the big bad has been defeated and your organization just won the mad respect of thedas? why throw a huge party to celebrate, of course!

the inquisition would like to hereby invite you to the inaugural skyhold grand tourney. bring your companions, champions, and warden heroes along for maximum fun times!

[this is an rp event beginning from 29th January 10:00 EST and ending on 6th February 10:00 EST (approximately a week)]:

no signing up required! just post an open starter (or a planned one—work things out with an rp partner!) related to the tourney and tag it with: event: the grand tourney. others will find your post in the tag and (hopefully) respond to you!

everyone is welcome to join regardless of fandom, as long as you have a dragon age verse and it makes sense for your character to be at skyhold. (yes, even you, solas)

there is no pre-determined list of activities that will take place in the tourney thus far, but here are a few ideas to get you started:  jousting, melee, archery contests, wrestling, throwing horseshoes, throwing hammers, throwing logs, sprint races, feasting, drinking, storytelling, singing, dancing—you get the gist of it, right?

most importantly: have fun!!

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    "No beating around the bush, hm?" A trait she could appreciate; Dalish were not specifically well-known for their manners, after all. An honest way of living and truthful statements suited her fine enough. "You digress since we started conversing-- but such is the way of strangers, I guess." It was far from being her right to judge, and she accepted it without further thought spent on it-- well, without an uncanny abundance of further thoughts spent on it. She did wonder; why was he in such a distressing place and what was his connection to it specifically? There certainly seemed to be one, her guts told her as much. Alas, prying wasn't the first thing on her mind, though curiosity would certainly overcome her at some point.      It confused her, however, to consider that anyone who had seen the Gallows before the incident. The longer she thought about it, the more obvious became a certain note of distress that began to form on her features. Naturally, her mind went to Varric and Cullen; neither of them would want to find her in that place, neither of them would want to return to the one place that would remind them of the events of a few years earlier. It began to dawn upon her that perhaps her little trip would have more serious consequences than she originally realised. If either of them were to be sent to Kirkwall to aid in retrieving her..          "Duty, my advisors, whatever one likes to call it."     The questions asked had her raising an eyebrow, though she hardly minded obvious curiosity of the kind; she could, as he mentioned, protect herself well enough anyhow.           "I fear there may be some who know me, perhaps a few             soldiers, a scary-looking Seeker.. I would hardly set myself            on just whom we might bump in to."     Nevertheless, she gave a nod, a light bow and lightly waved her hand towards the city.            "I would enjoy the company nevertheless, though."           

            “Obviously.” Flat and blunt, though not entirely meant to be so. “A dwarf could feel the uneasiness of this place, but I digress.” There was more here than the thinned veil, the demons and spirits alike that press against it, eager to enter the mortal realm. The statue of red lyrium sings, a persistent hum of a muted, hellish chorus. No matter how many times he passed that blasted statue, the sickening lurch his stomach did never grew any weaker. Even Meredith did not deserve that. No one did—and yet, the corrupted order was willingly ingesting the stuff.              It sent a violent shiver down his spine. Hopefully, encountering one of the corrupted order wasn’t going to happen any time soon. “People often return to places of trauma for closure, don’t they?” What closure did he expect to find reminding himself of his failure. A flicker of pain, an old ache long buried under the mask of impassiveness, always flares to life whenever he returns to the Gallows. Every time he does, he notices something new. The red lyrium crystals getting bigger, the weeds growing between the slabs of rubble and debris, the wild flowers and undead—                    Perhaps he would take her up on that offer. ”Duty calls?                    Ah, if it is no trouble, I suppose I can. Do you have others                    waiting for you in the city, or have you come alone?” He                    frowned, suddenly, all too aware of how needlessly prying                    and predatory that sounded. “… Forgive me, I don’t mean it                    in any way other than concern. Or that you aren’t capable of                    protecting yourself.”

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    A grin formed on her features, playful and joyous. "I'm almost surprised our Commander hasn't suggested we make use of them as some sort of ultimate weapon; he does seem rather captivated by them at times," a low hum was given at the end of her statement. "Outraged, they would be; dub it blasphemy and that I ought not dare possess something more shining than the light Andraste shed on us-- or something of the kind. They usually come up with colourful things like that."

Josephine couldn’t help but chuckle. “It doesn’t hurt that you possess the most perfect teeth in all of Thedas either,” she teased. “I’ll add that to the list of Skyhold’s attractions in this little brochure that I’m putting together. At the very least, it should be amusing to see how the Chantry reacts to this.”

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     "...right. Yes, of course. It was.. one of my less grand ideas.       I was simply thinking it might be nice to talk for a while.       ---in hindsight, I chose an awful topic for that.        Maker, I'm sorry, I'm not used to the entire 'know your enemy'       matter, I shouldn't have asked you."

           "I am       Not sure I could offer any unbiased wisdom            on the matter. No more so than you. As you are     well            aware, my personal accord with the..  T h i n g s of the            Fade is l e s s than friendly..     They are vile creatures,            I know no more than that. I do not wish to know more            than that. That is enough.”

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      "Well, I-- I was just curious about the entire 'demons        trying to make our lives a misery' business, and asking        Solas would mean I'd have to listen to Fade-y stuff        for at least an entire hour, so..         ..I heard a few things. I suppose it was foolish-- you        have my apologies."

        "I haven’t the faintest idea why you choose             to come to M E for such matters. You are             aware of my particular            background, I             assume?”

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     "..I don't think it was. Then again, this silly bow has a mind of its own; perhaps it really wanted you dead, blood sacrifice and all that hullabalooh coming into play.        ...ah. That sounds bad. No assassins here, everything perfectly fine, there's big stone walls and plenty of pointy, sharp swords."

"…That depends. If that wasn’t an attempted assassination or a subtle warning about your possible intentions to assassinate me, then yes. Perfectly fine, aside from the fact that I have now been made aware of how easily I might be assassinated and all sense of security is gone from this world."

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      "Don't forget the bit about my irresistible smile. It's the best part." She hummed, shooting a grin at the other. "If they'd come for my witty one-liners, they would certainly smile a lot more."

"And lose that charming wit for which visitors come from all over the land to experience firsthand?" she said wryly. "I didn’t think that you had the… capacity to be so heartless, Inquisitor.”

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tagged by the fucker that is defensorx repost and don’t reblog, please!

1. ) name of your muse.           Skyann Lavellan

2. ) one picture you like of your muse’s fc. 

3. ) two headcanons you have for your muse that you never told anyone.

           1. She loves her bow A LOT, so much that she used to (as a kid) sleep while holding it close.            2. Some of the pranks Cullen had to live through that were pinned on Sera weren't quite her doing. The more harmless ones could be tracked back to the Inquisitor herself.

4. ) three things that your muse loves doing in their free time.            1. Climb a            2. Chat to her companions            3. Nap (in the sun)

5. ) four people that your muse loves.            1. Cassandra         2. Cullen         3. Dorian            4. Varric

6. ) three fond childhood memories.              1. Crafting her own bow             2. Stumbling over a group of travelling merchants who gave her a carved wooden bunny as a toy             3. The first time she returned with the hunters and had killed something herself

7. ) two things your muse regrets.

           1. Being at the Conclave            2. Not having been able to save more lives

8. ) One thing they’d go through heaven or hell to save/change.              Frankly, she'd do anything to prevent the events at Haven. Not even the fight gainst Corypheus strikes her as more dire, but the lives lost because they let their guard down, because she wasn't paying enough attention, those are the lives that she would do anything to save.

tag ten people: la z y

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{ still a cock }:

                  ❝  Well, if this is your idea of an average conversation, I feel even                       my sensibilities might balk at actual flirting, so it is just as well                       that you’re not.                         —- And somehow not giving the proper introduction is rude to                        you?  I suppose I should be thankful that there is a line, then,                        no matter how tenuous. In light of that good grace, I guess you                        may call me Albaer   ❞

   "You, ser, are a very weird man, as I said.      To clarify, I was referring to your sword, only your sword, the metal     thing you carry around. There. Problem solved.    ----This is reminding me a painful lot of the Winterpalace ball.     Was that so hard? Albaer. And you may call me Skyann. Or     Lavellan. Some people seem to prefer the latter."

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The meeting with the queen held little significance for her at the time; as long as the city was unexplored, a territory she knew nothing about and that could hold adventures of its own, though she wagered they would be small and only briefly occupying, she wouldn't find it within herself to ponder on Inquisition matters. Naturally, their presence was due to the Inquisition, even though it wasn't directly aimed towards any specific issue or future whatever; they were representing the Inquisition and invited as the such. A certain degree of manners would be required, she was certain. She wondered whether there were any fereldan customs regarding greetings or general conversation with nobles? Her clan had kept itself well secluded from most matters involving humans, even though there had been enough chances for her to get in contact with them; wanderers, travelling merchants and at times small villages all added to what little knowledge she had of humans. In the back of her mind, she worried to take any wrong steps while facing the queen, though she felt reassurance thriving from the fact that Josephine was accompanying her. If anyone knew how to handle such meetings, it was her. A quick glance at the other made it clear that she was not quite clothes practically for their trip; the shoes that even Skyann admired at times were covered in dirt, and obviously much to Josephine's dismay. Her nose scrunched up briefly, mouth opening as she meant to point it out, though soon shutting again, since she was fairly certain that it didn't go unnoticed. The servants were giving a light courtsy, along with a grin that perhaps only she could wear after such a lengthy carriage ride. Her focus drifted back to her company, then, giving a light nod, even if it was obvious that she would be reluctant to turn away from the city's centre. "--fine. How long is that meeting going to take? Do you think Arl Teagan might be present? I did want to ask him about his castle some time, I heard he even fought with the Hero of Ferelden once." A light jump was made at that, though she soon cleared her throat, attempting to straighten herself and followed the guards towards the palace.

Mud on Silk Stockings (closed)

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   She grimaced, bow swiftly strapped to her back as she made her way    over to him.       "That genuinely wasn't supposed to happen, I swear.         Are you alright?"

Sebastian went stock still as the arrow whistled past, then turned slowly.

"…Please do not do that again."

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   "I hope they didn't wash them off yet.     I think it's right under Cullen's office, actually.      Let's make darkspawn noises when we're there to freak him out."

   ”Of course. Let’s go right now.” 

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   "....wanna go and see if the stains are still there?"

   ”That sounds like — something interesting.” 

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      "Something something, really weird laughter, something,        then a thing about smacking my something with goat blood?        I wasn't... really listening."

   ”Why would he throw goats though? He should      have used cows, or bears or even bulls. Imagine      the damage.” 

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   "Yeah! Well, one Avvar did. The others aren't too throwy    anymore. I just heard about it, though there was a bit    of blood I could make out when we left for Val Royaux     earlier."

“Avvar threw goats at Skyhold? Why is this the first   time I’m hearing about this? That must have looked   — interesting.” 

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     The reasoning behind her inquiry is lost even on her; his name means 'sorrows', what tales of joy and glee did she expect to derive from it?    "..that is a very vague phrasing and I'm not sure I want to further the subject, alright."    Though she found it hard to judge the motives behind each word, the hidden meanings, as his face gave away nothing.     "But isn't a life without occasional joy a little.. empty?"

  He is too wearied for vitriol,    for scathing exchanges and   heated glares. He can but   glance up and suppress an   aged sigh, rife with the   languors of the defeated.

          “I did, da’len, but not            as you would know it.”

  He is a touch defensive —   and almost teasing, though   the sourness of his expression   would hardly indicate it.

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      "Come on, just thinking about fighting someone as big or bigger than Bull scares the shit out of. And close-up? I'll pass!         ...yes, there was an Avvar who threw goats at Skyhold. I think he meant to disrespect me? It was weird."

“Fighting the Arishok wasn’t as glorious as   Varric makes it sound. I’m sure I still have   bruises on my body from— wait — what’s   this thing about goats again?”