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Chapter 2...

As the Wardens dispersed—Jory’s body destined for the pyre—a messenger approached Duncan.

    — Ser! His Majesty summons you. The darkspawn advance from the northeast. The camp prepares for battle.

Duncan’s gaze flicked north.

    — Alistair—see to quarters for the rest.

Alistair stared after him, then turned to Morrigan. Her smirk was all teeth.

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Chapter 2...

...Morrigan scaled Ishal’s Tower, finding a perch on a protruding block. Below, soldiers whistled at her agility—then promptly returned to dice games. Observing them, she noted their lack of fear. Nervous laughter, bravado, petty aggression—all symptoms of complacency. Duncan was right: this army had known only easy victories. The Grey Wardens’ warnings fell on deaf ears. Closing her eyes, Morrigan turned inward. The gap in her memory taunted her—a void her mind reflexively dismissed as trivial. But she’d been raised harder than that. With iron will, she chipped at its edges, reconstructing the day it began: A routine morning. Returning from the hunt, dragging a gutted musk deer. Flemeth’s wordless greeting—then…

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Chapter 2... Morrigan hung back, letting Alistair take the lead. With a wave, he asked if Duncan was in camp or with the King. The guards shrugged—they’d only been on duty a few hours. A few flat jokes later, they were inside.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44396590/chapters/111662347

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Chapter 2... Alistair slumped onto a nearby log, forehead pressed to his knees, signaling a breather. Jory prodded his swollen mouth and promptly collapsed into the grass. After a moment, the blond straightened and fixed his gaze on the girl’s lean figure. Leaning casually on her staff, she stared pensively at the horizon between sparse pines—back toward where they’d first met her. Not a trace of weariness showed. Deliberately sharpening his tone, Alistair tossed out a question: — How do you manage to look so fresh after a march like that? Morrigan smirked, eyes still forward. — Hard to say. Either your companion is better suited to long walks… or the men around her are simply weak. I’ll ponder it in my spare time.

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Chapter 1... Vincent noted with faint disappointment: she saw no threat in him. Trust in Aeonar was an unforgivable flaw. He’d drilled that into her daily since their arrival at this ancient Imperial fortress. Some never learned. The rapier’s thrust was surgical—piercing her throat without severing arteries. Her eyes bulged, but only a wet gasp escaped. A twist, then the pommel cracked her temple, dropping her soundlessly onto the carpet. His boot heel crunched down to finish it. Crimson bloomed across her white-and-silver tabard—the only vivid color in this realm of grays. A nostalgic weakness. Vincent knelt, wiping the blade clean on her cloak. — No greatness without sacrifice. Vincent knew well that talking to oneself was a bad sign—but the need for perfect discipline had passed. Dismissing Nakari from his thoughts as he had Daniel, the Overseer strode away from his office. His pace was neither hurried nor slow.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44396590/chapters/111662347

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Chapter 1...

— That’s what worries me. A knight’s honor—nobility drowning in stubbornness. She shrugged. — But I’ll ease your burden. Call it… goodwill. Alistair stared, equal parts irritated and perplexed—until she leaned her staff against a log and began undoing Daveth’s clothes. Under the men’s stunned silence, she stripped the corpse to its smallclothes, then—without a flicker of shame—started on her own.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44396590/chapters/111662347

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Chapter 1... — Aye, Commander. But they’re gone. And ‘useful’? Debatable. Sometimes a thing’s value isn’t in what it is, but who wants it. The elf looked skyward: — Night’s coming. And locked eyes with a glint in the thickening shadows. The stranger watched them like some oddity, weighing hidden value or meaninglessness. The mage betrayed nothing but whitened knuckles on his staff and dilated pupils. Calmly, he alerted the others: — Commander. Easy. We’re not alone.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44396590/chapters/111662347

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In search of the Right simplistic style for a scene from Chapter 1. From unbalanced ideal to…

…perfect balance.

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New Bad Beginning — Dragon Age: Origins Fanfic

I’m thrilled to share the opening glimpse of my Dragon Age: Origins fanfic.

Here’s a short teaser to set the tone:

“In the distance, beyond the farthest hill, pillars of milky‑white smoke coiled into the sky—an unmistakable sign of wildfire. But fire shouldn’t rage now: autumn was already upon the land…”

No spoilers—just atmosphere, tension, and a hint of what’s to come. I hope this one line stirs your curiosity as much as it reflected the mood of the accompanying art.

Let me know what you think below!

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New Bad Beginning (Dragon Age: Origins, Mature)

New Bad Beginning (Dragon Age: Origins fanfic) Rating: Mature | Chapters: 8+ (ongoing) Tags: dragon age fic, morrigan, dark fantasy, blood magic, AU, trauma, anti‑heroine

Summary: What if Morrigan never stayed in the shadows? In this gritty AU of the Fifth Blight, ambition, betrayal, and blood magic unfold through Morrigan’s eyes. As alliances fracture and Ferelden burns, survival—not heroism—drives her path.

Excerpt:

“She had never sought to lead — yet here she stood, at the edge of ruin…”

Read more on AO3 ▶ https://archiveofourown.org/works/44396590

Reblog appreciated!