#Free for mages

[hungrydovahkiin]

Fuck the chantry, Mages rights

[blighted-elf]

Dragon Age II - Merrill 1/?

[thatwavephenomenon]

Thinking about the Dairsmuid Circle again today. Thinking about how the Seekers killed all the mages of the Dairsmuid Circle because they didn't follow the Chantry's dogma again today.

"If the mages aren't put in Circles they will inevitably cause chaos-" THE MAGES OF DAIRSMUID WERE FINE DOING THINGS DIFFERENTLY. Until the Chantry saw it as a problem and killed them all for it.

[m4rs-ex3]

callum feeling small and insignificant just being in the throneroom

vs callum practically kicking down the doors and waltzing in guns blazing

[a2zillustration]

The final day

| First | | Previous | | Next |

[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

[threepandas]

Bad End, Chosen: Part 5

Back <- |

The first time around, I gave EVERYTHING. I drove myself into the ground, to be my Master's perfect Learner. To prove it had all been WORTH taking me on as a student. So that he would be proud. So he would love me. So that, like a father, he could look upon the child he raised and think "I did a good job, didn't I?"

Even then, I felt his uncertainty.

His fickle heart.

He was a weak man. One that let a mere child bully him into glorified fatherhood and then could not even commit to the choice he had made. As substantive as a cloud, drifting aimlessly across the endless sky. He abandoned me then. He'll abandon me again. I am, at best, something he feels he is "supposed" to do.

He does not love me. He never loved me.

But I love him.

And some days... I hate that I do.

I hate that I spent night after night, pouring over excruciating texts in tiny font. Ancient, dusty, tomes that talked endlessly in circles. I hate that I practiced and practiced, until I could appear effortless before him. The star pupil. The gem of the tower. Dispised and envied by my peers. And... and so utterly, utterly ALONE.

I died.

I died, desperately holding up the tower itself. The only one even vaguely prepared. When The Dark came. I saw tears and terror on the faces of children. Saw the ceiling crashing towards us. And chose to protect THEM instead of myself. It was, perhaps, the first and last time they ever saw me as something human. Fallible.

I was afraid.

But I did not let that terror hold me back.

They tried. Gods, they tried so, so hard to save me. Wept and screamed as the world seemed to END around us. As day turned to night and monster straight from the worst nightmares of man, crawled from the screaming vents, the WOUNDS upon reality itself. The last thing I saw? Was not my Master's face. But the tear stained faces of children pouring everything they could, into taking the impossible burden that even in those moments? Was killing me.

I cracked apart. Overloaded by the core of the Tower, which I had been desperately channeling. It... it was like becoming light.

And then the world rewound.

I did not learn my lesson. I was still young. Did not yet fully understand. Like all Reincarnators I thought I was here for a REASON. It took time to fully grasp how things worked. But that second life? Even now... even now I miss it.

Because back then...

I made friends.

I was so GRATEFUL. Could not unsee, that when the horrors came? They did not abandon me. They didn't even LIKE me. But... but I wanted them to. So I tried. I talked with them. Ate with them. Told jokes and went on trips. Was young. I grew to care so, so much about them. My dear and beloved friends.

Then?

I got to watch them DIE.

Gruesomely. Slowly. And without hope.

Perhaps that was when my love and compassion for the Protagonist died. When my struggle with hatred began. Because while those I loved suffered in mud stained hells, trenches and bile stenched infirmary, she frolicked in rose gardens. Dreaming of girlish love.

What of Duty? Of the death and suffering she IGNORED? How DARE she selfishly concern herself only with her OWN feelings and desires, as the world that NEEDS her dies in fear and agony! What SAINT is she? What GODS allow this?!

Thus was born my Rage.

And so, I refuse my Fate.

But I've made a mistake. A... a terrible mistake. And even now, he circles me like a bird of prey, correcting my stance with hands that linger. A man that looms. Standing too close. Forever patting my head, fingers carding possessively through my hair. Gripping the strands to make me look at him. Always gentle... but with just enough strength to hint that he could NOT be, if he chose.

He manhandles me like a doll. Physically. With magic. It is all the same. Looking forever delighted at the ease at which he can simply drag me into the air with a hover spell. Like a child sized balloon. To be carted around at his mercy.

I barely SEE my actual Master.

Alaric enables it. I... I refuse to call him Grandmaster in my head. He's already gotten to me once. I can endure. I survived once. I can do it again.

"Is my lesson so boring? That you must retreat into your head, child?" More like horrifying. The scent of blood is overwhelming. I keep my eyes locked on the far wall. "Ignoring my lectures will not let you escape them. You are merely force yourself to repeat them, you know. I am perfectly willing to repeat your lessons as many times as it takes."

"Academically" studying The Dark my ASS. Alaric Blight had, HAS, a fucking torture chamber. These are the worst sort of magics. I REFUSE to learn them. Will NOT use them. FUCK YOU.

I give the poor corpse before me what little dignity I can. By not seeing what they have been reduced too. They deserved better then this.

Alaric huffs a laugh. Gently putting down his ceremonial knife on a nearby table. He wipes the viscera from his hands with a rag as he strolls, calm as you please, over to my helplessly floating form.

"Ah~ that stubborn little glare. So FUSSY, Grandlearner." He laughs, the picture of indulgence. "I suppose I HAVE kept you here a touch too long, haven't I? We've missed several meals AND your nap. You are a growing child. No matter how fascinating the material, I can hardly expect you to concentrate under these conditions, now can I?"

He reaks of copper and a rich cologne I have grown to HATE. If only because it is his favorite. I am gathered from the air and pressed against his front, held like a child. I... I still can not move my limbs. He is no fool. For all I am pressed, lovingly almost, against him? I would tear his throat out with my TEETH.

He will not be giving me that chance.

I dispise him.

I DISPISE "naps".

Bad enough to be dragged around in his company for lessons. At least then, I can remember his evil. The cruelty and crimes. But NAPS? Insidious. We're it not for the immobility, they would have done terrible things to my head, long LONG ago.

They are exactly what they sound like. I am dragged off, to be cuddled like some stuffed animal, in some beautiful and soothing environment. For a nap. Bonding. Just me, him, and my head pressed against his chest. Against the hypnotic sound of his beating heart. Fighting the exhaustion in my bones. The desire to just... just let GO and know a moment's peace.

We never make it to the garden.

An explosion ROCKS the Magic Tower. Over a decade too soon to be The Dark. Alaric stops misstep, his personal barriers keeping even dust from touching us, as in the distance, Mage's scream. The Tower's barrier...goes up.

It...it NEVER goes up.

That is the seige barrier. For... for ATTACKS. Who would!?

"Ah. I knew I was forgetting something." Alaric says, as calmly as though musing on the weather outside instead of an attack upon an ancient, foundational institution. "It seems the temple dogs have finally decided to act upon all their barking. I imagine their little whore will make a wonderful figurehead. They always WERE on the look out for more puppets."

I stare up in confusion as he looks out as the barrier. His gaze flat, empty, and cold. Voice is distant as his muses, as though he long ago stopped caring. He catches my gaze upon him and the warmth floods back in.

"You see, little one. I normally kill them. They tend to make a pest of themselves. I have a list of things I must get done each cycle." He smiles fondly, utterly ignoring the alarms that have begun to sound. The calls for all Master's to defensive positions. "It is something you will learn, with time. A lesson I, of course, will be teaching you~"

"Now, since THIS building will likely become useless to us shortly. Let us go pack, hmm? The story progress. It's time to go home." He turns, and we begin to walk away.

"W-Wait!" I manage to choke out.

He pauses, looks down at me, patient even as people die. What, after all, does HE care, if they do? I try desperately to gather my thought. It is like scrambling after dropped beads across a smooth floor. I think, I HOPE, I get enough...

"I... G-Grandmaster I li..LIKE learning here. With you. It feels more familiar and has better places to... to nap. Could you... WOULD you, PLEASE, go save everyone?" I manage to rip from my throat, each word like pulling a tooth. I hate it. I HATE IT! But for them? Anything.

"Oh? Grandlearner~! Was that a REQUEST?" Croons the madman who holds me, his grip getting tighter for just a moment before relaxing back into it's gentle hold. Lips, almost burning with power, brush softly against my temple in a kiss. He makes a horrifyingly satisfied noise. "Of course MY child. Anything for MY Grandlearner, after all. You are my world, little light."

The world twists.

And suddenly? I am floating safely in the shade of a tree, far across the valley from the Tower. I can... I can feel the struggling Master's. Fighting to hold off the Temple's holy warriors. It is a blood soaked standstill. Until Alaric Blight steps up to the field.

Then?

EVERYTHING IS FIRE.

He is The Arch-Mage of Red. Not just for his hair, but for his terrifying master of fire and battle magics. What once, moments before, was a sea of green? Becomes ash and flame in an instant. So hot the fire burns the very air itself. Bordering on plasma. The ground itself molten in his wake.

None survive. How could any even dream?

It is like a nuke made man.

I shake. Tears slipping down my cheeks as I watch old growth vanish in the distance. Centuries of life. Gone in a moment of ugly destruction. They will praise him for this. Call him a hero. But I know what he is. What hides beneath that ugly, shining, mask of a charm and civility. And... and I am scared.

A chirp of starlight and tinkling glass, high and questioning, hovers just to my right.

Fairy-dragons. A full swarm. Creatures the size of a cat with the power of a god. All but one, staring furiously down at the destruction in the valley below. They radiates furious grief at the loss of so much life and forest. But the one looking at me... feels? Questioning? Somehow?

Can they project?

I can only assume. I KNOW they can understand spoken languages. All dragons can. And as powerful as dragons ARE...

"Please... please! Help me!" I choke out, finally letting my tears spill. Because if I can not cry in front of dragons, then where? "I'm not strong enough. He's a MONSTER. I know you can feel it! Please! Just until I recover. Until I can fight. PLEASE!"

More of the tiny creatures look at me. Glance at each other. Then back towards where Alaric continues his destruction. Their destain for him is obvious. Their eyes as they look upon me, hold no special love. Just ambivalence. But... they are what they are. And they DO hate the sort of creature Alaric Blight has become.

With a tearing WRENCH the spell holding me is SHREDDED.

Painfully, in dragon claws.

In the distance, Alaric stops. No doubt feeling that. Knowing someone not only freed me, but ATTACKED HIM. The dragon that was worried for me touches my shoulder. And before my Grandmaster can ever discover WHO stole me away?

I am Gone.

I do not see the city of Towervalley, the magic tower itself, BURN.

[anim-ttrpgs]

Promotional art by team artist @chaospyromancy

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is a neo-noir investigation-focused RPG with (as you can probably guess from the title) a supernatural twist. Eureka fills several voids we have noticed in the TTRPG space. Eureka supports investigation to a degree we haven’t seen before, ensuring that searching for clues is a granular and player-driven process, but also ensuring that the whole story doesn’t grind to a halt after one single failed investigation check.

Though most PCs will be mundane humans—or perhaps because most PCs will be mundane humans—Eureka also supports playing monstrous PCs, such as a vampire, in a way we have never seen before. This isn’t just a watered-down stat bonus, it’s like playing an almost entirely different game, with all the monster’s strengths and weaknesses to account for while solving the mystery, plus the added incentive to keep it a secret from the other PCs as well as their players.

If you like or are interested in Call of Cthulhu, Monster of the Week, Dresden Files, X-Files, Kolchak: The Night Stalker, Apocalypse Keys, or Gumshoe, you’ll probably find something in Eureka to really enjoy.

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is kickstarting from right now until May 10th! Back it while you still can!

If you want to try before you buy, you can download a free demo of the prerelease version from our website or our itch.io page!

If you’re interested in a more updated and improved version of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy than the free demo you got from our website, subscribe to our Patreon where we frequently roll our new updates for the prerelease version!

You can also support us on Ko-fi, or by checking out our merchandise!

Join our TTRPG Book Club At the time of writng this, Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is the current game being played in the book club, and anyone who wants to participate in discussion, but can’t afford to make a contribution, will be given the most updated prerelease version for free! Plus it’s just a great place to discuss and play new TTRPGs you might not be able to otherwise!

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

[lunarharp]

played dragon age 2...just simple scribbles

[myslooni]

I just realized I never shared these... the new FOP show is so goode.... and I really like Peri... also, updated my OC! Her name is Mage, for magenta! (Like how he's Peri for periwinkle) + Some expression practice with them both :)

[fireproofheart]

I have a real problem with learning new skills. The first thing I crocheted was a patterned queen size blanket. The first animation I make is a wholeass person twerking in full colour. I👏🏻Have👏🏻A👏🏻Problem👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

[hungrydovahkiin]

Mage's company. (1/?) -M!Hawke x Anders

Fucking long day, maybe too long; far too long. Being Kirkwall favorite apostate-refuge-mage, isn't an easy task, even for Garret. But he was finally home

The first thing he notice when he put step into the state, was the silence; He didn't hear barkings, maybe avaline had taken his fearless and cute best friend to the barracks to train some recluits. His old boy seemed more...happier, active, even, since he started to bite avaline's recluits, no wonder why, even him wanted to bite some of them sometimes.

The second one, was the absent of Sendal, Bodham, and Vellana, the dwarfs were probably asleep, it was late, and if Bodham was asleep so did velena.

The third thing, his mother wasn't home, the lack of his favorite Coat in the Hanger was the only signal Garret needed to know it, also, she had mention she would spend the day with Gamlen, maybe they drink a little and she stayed there? It was late to her just to come home alone.

What time is it anyway? He whispered to himself, the only a-and vagely- notion of how late was, was probably that it had been quite sometime since sunset.

Maybe anders is already here »he smiled, hurrying upstairs. It hasn't been more than a mouth since Anders moved in, and let's be honest, Garret was over heels. He was in love, for the first time in years, maybe first time ever.

It's not like he didn't have any lovers before anders, it's just...he never felt this way, or even a little similar to anyone else. If this was love, it was certainly first time he felt it so strongly.

So he adored everytime spend alone with his new lover. Lover...I still love the sound of that witch, wasn't exactly much. Turns out, being the only free healer in darktown, taked a lot of anders time. More than once, he spend not all day, but also entire nights in his clinic, or doing who knows what, only to come back muttering shit about templars, smelling to lyrium potions and being a mess. And even if Anders was home, most of the times he was sleeping, or writting his manifesto.

But even then...he always make time for Hawke.

And Hawke was like a puppy everytime that happened. Not like he had been all day long grumpy because he didn't get a morning kiss from his boyfriend, nope, of course not, neither like he's been looking for an excuse to go darktown and steal that kiss, and maybe a few minutes from anders, nuh-uh, that's ridiculous. And of course!, it's not like he had been craving for anders hold and cuddles, and had been thinking of just going home to kiss those damn sweet lips all day, of course not!

So when he peeked through the door frame, and saw an empty bed, and the lack of his favorite blond robes making a mess on the desk, he certenly didn't feel like a kicked puppy..and alone, heartaching, and needy kicked puppy, nop. Absolutely not.

[vultures-and-scavengers]

there's so many ~rules~ around fancy dinners, the courses, the silver you use, names for foods you might never have heard, and i imagine its far worse in orlais, where everything is over the top and meant to be seen and judged.

and josephine and leliana can navigate that fine, and depending on the inquisitor (especially trevelyans), i imagine they can handle themselves.

which leaves the last member of the leadership quartet, who spent the first 13 years of his life eating rural ferelden fare and then spent the next 16-17 years likely eating in mess halls between duties.

and how do you then represent the inquisition in a world where you are the outsider and everything about the world you are stepping foot in is meant to keep you and other commoners out? when this world is the one that plays with the lives of commoners like toys?

[robinmage]

It's curious to me, how the general consensus among others when it comes to Chise's curses are "bad; we need to get rid of it (we just don't know how.)" Which, considering they are both curses made of pain and suffering, makes sense why someone wouldn't want to keep those around.

We (the audience) know vaguely how the curses interact with each other. The dragon's curse: made from strong emotions of anger and despair, provides Chise with her strength and durability against both magical and physical elements, at the cost of her own strength one day tearing herself apart. Cartaphilus' curse prevents her from dying, but offers no protection against injury or decay. Together they "keep each other in check"-- Cartaphilus will keep her alive, the dragon will keep her strong.

A lot of things have happened in the past arc that make it easy to forget the fundamentals of the first season. When the series started, Chise was a few steps away from walking off a roof. Even after she arrived in England, it took a long time before she decided that maybe life wasn't so bad. Her entire life up until that point had been nothing but misery; abandoned and alone, she had no one to protect her from the constant targeting and harassment by both fae and humans alike. She believed that the only way to escape her torment was through death... I think its a facet of her character that goes unfairly unrecognized a lot (especially after the first arc).

When she's in England and is going through her mental/psychological character development, she is still facing the imminent threat of her weak sleigh beggey body constantly failing her. Using magic exacerbates her condition, causing her to be sick and/or incapacitated for significant stretches of time. It's painful, it's uncomfortable, it's frustrating. By the time she realizes she wants to live, her clock is already running quite short.

Her solution is handed to her on a rusted platter. To be "just like everyone else", for once. Finally.

Going to school, hanging out with friends, using magic without it killing her-- all things shes never been able to do before. All thanks to the curses trapped in her. These things that should be considered a horribly tragic fate have now become her salvation. Both physically and mentally, she's the strongest and most resilient she's ever been. Yet, when faced with the idea of liberating herself from her curses...

The curses only work the way they do because they're in sync with each other. Taking away either curse would leave her vulnerable to the other-- the dragon's curse would slowly overwhelm her into a brutally agonizing death, while Cartaphilus' curse would leave her to live and suffer through the constant breaking down of her sleigh beggey body.

When told about the reality of her curses and just how severe they are (not just to her, but to the people around her), she doesn't seem to completely understand what that may mean for herself and her future. Or perhaps, she just doesn't care. After a life where pain and suffering was her "normal", she finally has the means to create something meaningful and positive out of herself. How could that possibly be a bad thing?

She understands on some level that these curses were only ever meant to be temporary. Elias' original goal, to keep Chise alive in spite of her sleigh beggey curse, has not changed. Tacking on two more curses was not a part of the plan, and though they've offered a temporary solution and some time, curses are called curses for a reason. They cannot be relied upon. They've got to go.

But getting rid of those curses (both, or either) essentially puts her back at square one. Back to the pain, discomfort, and illness. She probably won't be able to use magic without hurting herself, too. She's gained freedom in both mind and body for the first time in her life. Sure, she encounters a few hiccups, but considering what she's used to, this is a big step up.

Something has finally given her the power and freedom to spread her wings and fly. Would she be able to clip her own feathers just because that power is "supposed" to be "bad"?

Could she? Could you?

Through it all, everyone she's come across has appointed her curses as a problem. Everyone, except...

[anneapocalypse]

At the end of the day you can use "Varric is an unreliable narrator" to overwrite literally any part of DA2 that you don't like. Like you can say, "Oh of COURSE Varric isn't actually against mage freedom! He just said that he objected to Hawke freeing the mages because Cassandra was interrogating him." And sure, I can't prove to you that he isn't lying about that. I can't prove to you that Varric isn't lying about anything. I can't prove to you that the entirety of Inquisition isn't also Varric making things up because he did also write a book about that and we hear Cassandra reading it in the end credits. At the end of the day if you want to you can basically wipe out Varric's entire character as presented to us and say, "Actually he was lying! He's really this."

But at a certain point you do also have to acknowledge that the frame narrative is a storytelling device that's meant to enhance the story, not like... erase it. Or at least I prefer to acknowledge that, because going too far the other way basically guts the story of all meaning. If Varric is a character we are meant to engage with on any level--and I think it's clear from his prominence in the franchise that he is!--then at least some of what we see him say and do needs to be able to meaningfully interpreted, even if we second-guess him, even if we can pick out half-truths here and there, even if we cross-check our interpretations against how he behaves in other parts of canon.

Like at least some of what we're given about Varric has to be meaningful to his character, or why even bother, I guess is what I'm saying.

[utilitycaster]

Something about how Caleb brought Frumpkin and Laudna brought Pâté into the world at the loneliest, lowest points in their life, but Frumpkin represents Caleb holding on to the past and after a year of healing he is able to let Frumpkin go. Pâté represents the one thing Laudna could do for herself during the most stagnant and powerless time of her life, and after Delilah is at least gravely weakened, if not banished, Laudna is finally able to make him real...but also acknowledge what he once was before, which is a dead rat.

[kingclowsif]

Sometimes you just gotta blow up a building after facing decades of horrendous suppression <3 <3

Original Meme under cutoff