Tal-Vashoth Companion oc! not Adaar, not inquisitor Indi. semi-selective DA universe, oc rp blog, mun and muse 21+ You can like any of my content, it makes me happy If you can't see my rules open in browser
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“Berserk... It is a good look on me” She smirked as she watched Mistral’s rendition of Dorian’s final wishes. The humor was welcome in the poor weather and poorer hunt for the Vashoth. “Of course he did. With the time he spends on his looks I suppose it’s smart.”
She shook her head as Mistral started to overthink her chatting. The Rivaini's conversations were always enjoyable and welcome, she treated Asaa like an equal and she didn’t want her to get a chance to overthink that comradery and possibly distance herself.
“I wear armor made of poison and blood, I’m sure I will survive the concoction. And do not feel that way, I appreciate the conversation. Never been one for long silences.” The affirmation after she paused to confront the sky made her laugh, though it may not affect the world it definitely made it more enjoyable. Mistral’s timing always managed to keep her spirits up, even as they trudged through the soaked land with a rift cackling in the distance.
“I'll take that bet. This place looked like sunken hell, it probably pisses all day regardless of demon cracks. I’m pretty sure I saw kelp growing on the road up here.”
She looked over to the wolf with hope as Mistral mentioned their tracking abilities, she couldn’t discern their emotions but they seemed hard at work. She continued on their path trying to seek a weather eye out for anyone who could even be connected to the missing vashoth. When Mistral’s head snapped up and searched the horizon Asaa tried to find what had alarmed her but her eyes did not find success before the warning came, traps. They were never her favorite. She runs into battle headfirst and traps were a hindrance to her success that she despised. They hadn’t managed to kill her with one yet but damn were they irritating.
“They could be the reason that what we seek is so difficult to locate. Seems a bit far for the freemen, perhaps looters taking advantage of the turmoil or trying to claim land when others flee.”
She weighed the options quickly, to her it didn’t seem to be too difficult of a decision “The commotion with the wolves could alert them and leave us vulnerable. Besides, the men are the ones who decided to cause trouble here, I’ve no personal quarrel with wolves. As long as we see the traps first we can avoid them. Takedown and question the men, move on before we can cause trouble with the wolves.”
“I’ll try to keep their eyes on me” With a nod of affirmation, she lifted her maul and started to move in. The terrain was not easy to move quickly and smoothly across but the rain and thunder thankfully were enough to cover any blunder as she got into a good position to run at them.
It would take effort to make sure to avoid the wires as she rushed them but that was remarkably easier by seeing them far ahead of time. She set herself up to the side of the bandits at an unseen vantage point. With the help of the hillside, she would be able to rush in maul swinging. Hopefully, they would be able to question some of them and get an actual lead on the Vashoth.
With everything in place, she gave a nod to Mistral. Heaving herself to her full height she swiftly moved in. Raising her maul to strike she stared straight into the eyes of the first raider giving them the chance and the motivation to surrender.
“I’ve always liked smeared makeup in battle. I think it adds a berserk touch to the look. You know,” she said gesturing as if she could offer the phrase to her companion on the palm of her hand, “for the benefit of the enemies’ terror. It is like a statement: I am a woman and I’m not afraid of scaring the shit out of you!”
Mistral kept talking as they left the village. Their investigation had proven a dead end. None of the villagers had seen or heard anything having to do with huge-grey-horned-guys, although Mistral knew that some of them were lying. She thought Asaa knew that too, but what was the point in dwelling on peoples’ pettiness? Better distract her with idle chatters: “I can also see your point, however. Did you know Dorian had me concoct a lotion to waterproof his makeup?” Mistral grabbed a lock of her long hair and shaped it into a mustache:
“If I am to die in battle, I want everyone to look at me and think this is Dorian Pavus: as flawless in death as he was in life."
She loved mimicking Dorian. Actually, she adored Dorian, period. She agreed to create the lotion on the condition that he would take her on a vacation to Minrathous once the war ended.
"I could brew some for you too, if you want. You only need to be a tiny little bit open-minded about the ingredients… Am I talking too much? I am, ain’t I? It’s the excitement before the hunt. Always happens.”
Mistral actually appreciated Asaaraanda. She thought they were akin in many aspects. Mostly, they both valued their freedom above all things. And that rendered Asaa’s companionship enjoyable. So, when the Vashoth addressed the sky to complain, she simply followed the dialogue:
“ Did you hear, sky? Stop making it harder!” Her eye shifted upon the glowing mass boiling over the lake, “I wonder if the inquisitor managed to get to the rift. Ten silvers that it’ll clear up once it’s sealed.”
Asaa was right. If the Tal'Vashoth were in the area, they would certainly keep at a distance from the village and the farmlands were an excellent point to start searching. “Don’t worry. If they’re around, Blackthorn will be able to pick up their scent.” Mistral replied confidently. ⁓ Not sure about it ⁓ commented Blackthorn who was scouting the path up ahead at a considerable distance from the women ⁓ Not in this rain, at any rate. ⁓
Not reassuring. Not good for Asaa’s mood either. Mistral kept the information to herself. They had just passed the stronghold, taking the path on the left, when Blackthorn’s voice rang again into Mistral’s mind: ⁓ Sister! Human garbage here! ⁓
The Rivaini looked around, eyes searching something that could justify her knowledge without giving away her connection with Blackthorn.
“Look, ” she said drawing Asaaraanda’s attention, “ tripwires, like those we spotted in the dales. Free men, maybe?” she wondered. “Not the kind of company we’re seeking out, but something we’ll have to deal with, nonetheless.” They caught up with Blackthorn, hiding behind the bushes growing on the hill above an abandoned farm. From there, they could clearly spot at least four men, well-armed and patrolling the area. “Oh no…that might complicate things…” Mistral pointed at some wolves that were grouping to the other flank of the hill. Blackthorn carefully crawled through the tall grass, trying to pinpoint the exact spot where the pack was heading. “We can either outflank the bandits and deal with the wolves, or deal with the highwaymen and carve a path to avoid the pack. You choose.” Mistral looked at Asaa as she offered the options. ⁓ I’d rather NOT face my kin… ⁓ whispered Blackthorn from her position, ⁓ they are hunting very close to one of those green holes… there’s something off about them… I don’t want to go there, sis… ⁓ ⁓ It’s Asaa’s friend, sis. Her friend, her choice. You’d feel the same way if I were in danger ⁓ And while this dialogue went off in the span of a heartbeat, Mistral turned to Asaaraanda again and asked: “What do we do?”
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ladaar:
Bloodlust; Closed Starter
she shrugged. being a reaver really wasn’t as big a deal to her as everyone made it out to be. her father had been one, too. and maybe that played into the pull to become one herself. still, nalla didn’t really pay much mind to the specialization. she had always gotten hurt in battle, at least now she hit harder.
“ fine, i suppose. though, the change was a little underwhealming to say the least. ” she really didn’t feel much different. it was working, she knew it was. she got hit, her next hit was stronger. she was practically squashing templars in one blow down. still, it wasn’t what she expected. somehow she expected a rush, to feel powerful. but she still felt like herself nothing really had changed.
“ makes you wonder if some people are just naturally this way. qunari, i mean. bull never drank the blood, and i don’t think my father did either. ”
She took in the inquisitor's reaction to the change and nodded approvingly. Hearing that the Nalla’s father had also become a reaver, yet without the blood was interesting, almost impressive. When it came to Nalla, underwhelming was better than overwhelming. Being able to stay in complete control was necessary for a leader on the front lines.
“Good, I don’t think it should change who you are, but should allow you to push past your old limits. I suppose for some that will feels like a vast improvement of their capabilities and for others a natural extension of them. I am glad the change has come naturally to you. ”
She could see the changes in her prowess on the battlefield but it was far more difficult to check up on what was going on in someone's head during the fights. She was glad it was the inquisitor that consumed the dragon and not the dragon who had consumed the inquisitor in terms of will.
“I knew my experience would be different. I became a berserker far before I was a reaver. That has interacted with the dragon's blood to create something else.” She wasn't entirely sure if what she had created was something good but it was damn well effective. Bleed, see red, destroy everything. Perhaps she had become the Tal-Vashoth her Tamassran warned her about.
For a long time she only knew what the Qun teaches of their nature, but it is easy to be skeptical of their words. She has met Humans more vicious and Vashoth so timid it made the teachings seem false. People are complex but maybe there is a reason it is easier for Qunari to find this strength inside themselves. She was no priestess though, she did not have the education to speak anything other than opinion.
“I can wonder, but I cannot pretend that I know the answer. The fear of falling to a vicious nature was used like a tool to keep anyone from trying to leave the safe control of the Qun. I do not know how much of it is true. Or when it comes to being a Reaver, if it is really our minds and not our bodies. We are larger, stronger, with thicker skin, if anyone could learn to survive a strong hit just to push back harder it would be us.” It was something to ponder, perhaps one day they would know the answer. But with the Kossith being so different from them and their history before Koslun being hidden by the Qun it was hard to say.
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Get to know the blogger
tagged by: @kaaras-adaar
tagging: @bushelofmuses @gayrett-hawke Anyone who sees this~ Tag me so I can read
Favourite Colour: Purple~ I even dyed my hair purple
Currently Reading: Tevinter nights and Dragon Age: Deception. It’s been ages since I read an actual book and I’m trying to get back into it. It’s just a little bit difficult. The comic is really fun so far!
Last Song: YOASOBI - Racing Into The Night (Yoru ni Kakeru) Specifically this version
Last movie: Honestly don’t watch a lot of movies. I want to watch the new black widow and I think the last one I watched was “My Cousin Vinny”
Last series: Me and my boyfriend have been watching castlevania together. (I actually Like third rock too) Game series: Dragon age and Red dead redemption
Sweet, savory, or spicy: I love sweet flavors so much!! They’re my all time favorite~
Craving: A nap. Honestly my body has been going through a lot lately and now I’ve been needing to rest more often. I get that it helps me heal and feel better but it’s frustrating when I want to actually do more things with my day.
Tea or coffee: Tea all the way. Iced tea, sweet tea, chai. I love all of it. I never really learned to like the taste of coffee and I have ADHD so it makes me sleepy cuz of weird brain chemicals. However coffee does taste better when stealing it from a friend ;)
Currently working on: Art and my DND character! I want to do more art of Asaaranda and Ray’Halla my DND character. I have some ideas for Asaa through the years as a kiddo, before and after leaving the Qun. Also just some different outfits and maybe a battle scene. Even just more references for my blog. I don’t really do face claims so I also need to grab more screenshots to post.
I also want to do a lot more meta and headcanon posting. I have a lot of thoughts on qunari culture that I want to write about. Just any more qunari content that isn’t the scary monster invader stereotype would be nice. So I’ll make it my damn self
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tranquilbroken:
River almost didn’t hear the knock, or the words - she wasn’t entirely present of mind, too tired, too frazzled. It’s the worst it had been since her first nights as herself again.
When was the last time she-
“Oh- Oh, I-” She pauses, a letter? River pales a little further, before going to her door. She almost didn’t open it, however, she does - green eyes a duller shade then normal, and the bags under her eyes are dark bruises.
“…Thank you, for bringing it back…I.. didn’t even know I’d lost it.”
“You look… Like you need company. Can I come in?” She looked obviously more drained that Asaaranda had ever seen her. She tried to make herself seem less intimidating, curling into herself to appear smaller. The concern was so obvious in her violet eyes.
“I didn’t mean to read it, it was dropped open.” She tried not to cringe as it was starting to sound like a lie, even if she wasn’t lying. She held it out or River to take, it was folded closed now but they both knew what was on it. Her feet shuffled, impatient at the slowness and delicacy she was trying to handle this with.
“It sounded almost like... a letter of departure.” She paused in the middle trying to word it correctly. Asaaranda may have come off as overly formal but she was trying to be calm about it and not bombard her with questions when she already looked so weakened. The letter sounded like something you wrote before something bad or unavoidable happened, but it didn’t seem like River was sharing what she had predicted. “Has something come up?”
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Childish jokes aside
@bushelofmuses
“Oh come on. You can’t expect me to not make jokes. Look at this one!” She whispered enthusiastically as she held up a cream filled chocolate that resembled a walnut. “The inside is nut flavored cream.” She pressed her fingers together, crushing the chocolate and letting some cream out.
“You can bust a-” Whatever horrible jokes she was planning to unleash next were cut off by her own laughter that almost resembled a donkey's bray. While she tried to hold back it was still a little noisier than what was acceptable as these soirees.
She breathed heavily as she tried to contain herself again. She checked to see that the other guests had at least pretended to stop staring before speaking again. “I might be 12 but if the dowager didn’t want us to laugh she wouldn’t be trying to eat the Duke’s nuts at a party.” Technically that was true on multiple levels as she had been passing by the table eating handfuls of candied nuts while also very obviously hitting on the Duke every time she spoke.
“Wait a minute… How old are you actually anyways?”
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Emerald hunting grounds; Closed starter
@call-2-arms
The morning fog was just starting to burn off in the sun. Asaaranda was not a stranger to early rising but being out in the forest in the early morning wasn’t something she did often. The early morning sun glinting off the dew made the emerald graves seem even more beautiful than when she had set eyes on it before.
The inquisition's hunters were being asked to pair up with a member of the fighting forces due to increased reports of red templars and funny enough… Great bear attacks. Ok, maybe you didn’t think that was funny but the image of hunters running from a fluffy grey bear made Asaaranda crack a smile.
Talan wasn’t quite what she expected but of course they would put the Tal-Vashoth together. Other soldiers might think he could ‘handle himself’ just because of size and leave him less defended.
The sound of a flock of birds flying overhead pulled her out of her own thoughts as she looked up towards the hunter in front of her and she quickened her pace so she came to walk beside him.
“What creatures are we looking for anyways? I’d like to help if I can.” Perhaps chatter wasn’t good when hunting but she wasn’t about to die of boredom when there were so many better ways to go.
She spoke again this time in Qunlat, “We can speak like this if you prefer.” It was worth asking, with some Tal-Vashoth preferred to lose anything related to the Qun, but that didn’t seem like it would be an issue for one who called themself ‘Talan’. But perhaps it was just to sate her own curiosity about him.
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Asaaranda hadn’t meant to read it but when she glanced and saw the words that sounded like goodbye she couldn’t put down the letter. The world stopped as she stood like a statue in the corridor as the world continued moving around her. She couldn’t just hand it to Varric as it seemed unfinished.
She moved swiftly through the hold, looking for where River had gone. This seemed pretty serious and maybe she didn’t want to talk about it yet but she would have to try. When she couldn’t quite seem to find her in the usual spots she headed to River’s room.
“River?” She called out unsure as she knocked on the door. “I think I found something of yours, you dropped a.. Letter. Do you need to talk?” The question Are you leaving went unspoken. She wasn’t sure how much she could ask without River possibly shutting her out.
A piece of folded paper slipped from River’s bag unnoticed, twirling before landing open for someone to find.
It’s a letter, addressed to someone called Varric. There’s a lot of crossed out words, frustration but friends - it looked like she wasn’t sure what to write.
But she seemed to be under the impression that something may happen to her, and she wanted him to know that despite everything she didn’t hate him… maybe it was just a rough draft.
a letter of introduction/ @nehraa-asaaranda
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Asaaranda’s brows raised in amusement as a smile started to break across her face, she wasn’t quite sure who taught Minstral that Qunlat but it was entertaining to say the least. The first it sounded more like a date than a mission. Perhaps on another occasion it would be a nice location for such a day, or at least they could get a chance to enjoy the pretty lake.
“With that war cry, I’m almost starting to believe you. Now if only my vitaar wasn’t threatening to come off in the rain.” She said even though she knew it would stick, it had hardened to her skin as armor now. But the designs were looking a bit ragged and smudged.
As if offended she heard a crack of thunder in the distance. Her hairs stood on end at the sound, “I did not mean to offend. I enjoy the storm when at rest but you know the difficulties you cause me in battle.” She spoke to the sky as they moved on. Sera had tried smiling at clouds to make them go away, this would also likely have no effect but it was entertaining.
“Ah, what are we even looking for… Horns peeking over a hill. They would have moved past the farm lands, no? If we’re lucky we’ll find them before anyone with ill intentions does” Finding that group of tal-vashoth should be easy enough. There didn't seem to be any among the local towns so they would likely stick out like a sore thumb. But the locals' lack of knowledge of them or interest in helping them spoke volumes. The Vashoth in this area were likely traders and farmers who kept to the outskirts. They wouldn't have been able to rely on organized defenses to protect their homes and when they had to move that was seen as suspicious.
Of course having horns seemed to make everything you do suspicious. But these were gentle folk who came to a strange new land and chose a life of peace only to not be welcome here either. It hurt her even deeper to think of the Vashoth who never knew the Qun still being seen as possible traitors.
@nehraa-asaaranda ❤’d
“You… me… pretty lake… You’ll see. We’re gonna have a great time in Crestwood! We’ll find your friend before you can say ‘anaan esaam fuck you’!”
#fitztrevelyan#Minstral#IC#[Asaa is definitely the kind of person to talk to inanimate objects]#[If a thing isn't working she'll yell at it]
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This is a personal comic I made featuring two characters, Oma, a Rivaini wise woman and Asaaranda, talking about reincarnation and life lessons.
Oma: You’re a very old soul. You've been here many times.
Oma: You will continue to be reincarnated until you learn your lesson. But you already know what it is. Don’t you...
Asaaranda: Forgiveness. My lesson is to forgive those who have done wrong by me. Even if they do not ask for it... Or deserve it.
Oma: And what do you think? Can you learn to forgive now?
Asaaranda: I’ll be happy to try again.. Next time.
A: See you then
O: Will you now?
A: If I do not I will be happy for you.
O: I will see you in eternity my child.
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Perhaps reaching for your maul immediately after a demon with sharp obsidian claws knocked it out of your hands wasn't the best idea. But it wasn’t like anyone had the time to tell Asaaranda before she had already done it only to get slashed at again. After the fight, getting back and finding someone who could tend to it was her first priority, demon wounds were always nasty and she couldn’t risk her hand with one.
“I apologize, I don’t mean to be troublesome.” She said making an effort to sit still at the healer's request. But she still couldn't help the fidgeting and flinching as the healer took care to look the wound over. Her nerves were still shot and the adrenaline from battle was taking its time to wear off. Perhaps a good thing as it meant less pain for her, not that that was going to sooth her healer's possible frustration with her.
She nodded eagerly as he stated how he could help. “So you can handle it here just fine then? I was unsure, I’ve heard so much talk about demon wounds festering horribly.” She was no healer and hadn’t truly fought demons before this. Perhaps it was naïve to apply the others' reports to a decent yet not gruesome cut but she had nothing else to go off. “Wait, are you not going to use magic?”
@nehraa-asaaranda || LIKED the STARTER CALL
“I’ll be unable to help you if you do not keep still-” He comments, furrowed brows pointed and eyes fixated on the bleeding wounds from the other’s hand; “I can clean and stitch it in but a few moments if you’ll allow me- and then you’ll be utterly free to get back to what you were doing-”
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Bloodlust; Closed Starter
@ladaar
“Drinking dragon’s blood, huh? Wouldn’t have been on my list of first acts as Inquisitor, but I can’t judge from here can I.” Asaaranda’s signature fanged grin came into sight as she addressed the Inquisitor.
Being a reaver herself Asaaranda really wasn’t judging the Inquisitors decision to join her, just teasing about the timing really. Learning to harness her rage into the prowess of a berserker was just as important of a decision as when she drank the dragon’s blood herself. The feeling of the new power coursing under her skin for the first time had made her eager to fight again and again.
“How are you feeling. Was the change everything you were expecting?”
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WHAT TYPE OF ROMANTICISM ARE YOU?
Solitary romanticism
spilled ink, liquor stained dress shirts, books lent but never returned: you're solitary romanticism. solitary romanticism is not to be confused with melancholic romanticism, however; it can be lonely at times but is not quite sad. solitary romanticism entails a complete wonder in one's head, fantastical in its feeling, yet simple in its probability. it's playing the piano to an empty house, hoping the wallpaper likes the tune, it's smiling at the sight of a happy couple, not out of jealousy, but by true admiration of love. you stop to notice the little things in life, yet can't help but wonder whether or not someday you'll have the privilege of being so content and caught up in your own life to have them slip your mind. you've a kind soul and a wandering mind, which makes for a wonderful person all around. "dedicated to everyone who wonders if i'm writing about them. i am." - k.s. thomas
TAGGED BY: @kaaras-adaar
TAGGING: @bushelofmuses @gayrett-hawke @laimdalen-itellam
#dash games#[I know 2 these are the same person. I just like both their characters]#[Also the fact that I didn't expect this answer but it suits her so well]#[she kind of see love as something other people have but she admires it]#[also huuuuge on acts of service]
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"Why is there a dead noble in my study quarters?" @bushelofmuses
“Funny thing about that,” Alas that was often the way that many an unfunny thing was introduced. It was rather serious wasn’t it, a dead noble stowed in the Inquisitor's quarters. There was nothing to implicate Asaaranda...
I mean, other than the spots of blood on her clothes, and the chip in the doorway where she hit her horns walking up, and the fact that she was the last one seen heading toward the inquisitor's quarters. Oh did we mention that she was currently laying on the ground due to her tripping on the carpet that she couldn’t see over the corpse she was attempting to carry?
She heaved as she pulled herself up, rising to her full height. Dusting herself off she continued, “I caught him leaving here, I believe he was looking through your documents. I was just trying to keep him in the room for Lady Red to interrogate.”
“But he tried to run past me and I tripped him down the stairs, I was just dragging him back up. I didn’t know he was dead dead, I thought he was being difficult. I mean he’s Orlesian, they always look this ghastly, how was I supposed to tell?” She gestured vaguely towards the body on the floor.
But she didn’t mention why she was headed up to Myrna’s quarters. Looking around the scene started to piece itself together. Her clothes were finer than usual, not something she would normally wear. Something you could almost call a dress. A bath with sweet-smelling oils in it was drawn by the fire, the inquisitor wasn’t the one to request it earlier… Lastly, on the ground, where the claimed scuffle happened, dried rose petals were spilling out of a basket, soaking up rosé from a broken wine bottle just next to them.
It seems even in romance, plans never survive contact with the enemy.
#bushelofmuses#Myrna#[I wasn't even trying to make it a romance]#[My muse held me hostage]#[enjoy the chaos]
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gayrett-hawke:
“What, expecting something a bit more violent?” Hawke chuckled. “No, we’ve got the Gallows and Darktown for that.” He frowned for a moment in thought before continuing, “And I wouldn’t trust anything offered to me in either of those places.”
At Asaaranda’s question, Hawke glanced down at his mug. “Every day’s an off day for the drinks around here. But hey, it’s cheap and consumable, so I guess I can’t complain too much. Kirkwall doesn’t have much to offer when it comes to alcohol. Maker forbid this city produced anything to provide its people with joy and entertainment.” If it weren’t for his friends, he might’ve given into the misery of this place himself. Especially now that his brother wasn’t around…
Shaking his head, Hawke joked, “I’ve been called worse things than a drunkard, don’t you worry.” He actually had spent a fair amount of time here and at The Blooming Rose during his first year in Kirkwall. It had made the sudden changes and emptiness more tolerable. Now, his reasons for visiting the tavern were different, though. “I do tend to use this place as a sort of gathering spot for my friends, yes,” he replied. “Two of them already have rooms here, so it makes things convenient.”
When his new acquaintance began to worry about being too inquisitive, he quickly attempted to ease her mind. “No, no, question away,” he insisted. “I’m always up for some good conversation. And the job’s a simple matter, really. I just have some business along the Wounded Coast, and I was wondering if you might accompany me?”
“I’ll have to see if I can find some proper maraas-lok for you then. Kirkwall might not have the best options but the craftsmen of the qun don’t slack when it comes to spirits.” The beresaad did trade with people outside the qun, if she could just talk to the right people without the wrong people catching wind of her. It was possible but perhaps tricky. She could ask for help, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. “After that we’ll just have to make our own entertainment.”
Her eyebrows raise slightly at the knowledge that people choose to live here for “convenience”. A communal space that some held so dearly they made it their home, perhaps it was touching. Best to overlook the probable desperation for comradery that was likely brought on by previous struggles.
“Business on the wounded coast then. What kind of business do you wish for me to accompany you for? Do you need me to just stand there and be intimidating or do I need to hit stuff?” Her head tilted and she leaned in as she asked. It was difficult enough to get work in this area so she was used to those being her two options when it came to job offers.
“I mean, either way I accept. I already brought my axe.” She stated, as if she didn’t already bring her axe with her everywhere. She started to shift impatiently in her seat, getting out of the city for a moment sounded too enticing. She was ready to leave as soon as Hawke said the word.
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What do you think of the "revenge bad" tropes frequently found
it actually pisses me off sooooo much when characters are like "ohhh but if i hurt or kill the bastard who made my life and others' a living hell i'm just as bad as they are!" like grow up and shoot him what are you catholic
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biting is a love language. no i will not elaborate.
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