#This Is The Dalish Hero - hey wait i know that guy

[attractthecrows]

it's a damn shame bioware doesn't capitalize on the whole Arlathvhen thing. it could be so much fun. you're telling me that a people that meets up to exchange information every 10 years don't all know each other? come on now. just think.

Lavellan: it's a damn shame about Mahariel. Figures she'd sacrifice herself tho, she was always dramatic like that

Varric: you knew the hero of Ferelden?

Lavellan: Oh yeah, she used to spike my drinks with hot peppers as a prank

Varric: ....huh.

--

Lavellan: How's your Keeper?

Dalish: oh I don't know, I've been gone for a few years now

Lavellan: (nodding) do you want me to send a message for Istimaethoriel to pass on?

Dalish: No. Wait.... yeah, no.

--

Lavellan: man. I wonder what Felassan's up to. No one's seen him since the last Arlathvhen

Solas, sweating bullets: damn that's crazy. who's Felassan

Lavellan: oh he was a Keeper, we used to drink together

Solas sweating even bigger bullets: oh haha he was a friend of yours?? damn I hope you find him. crazy stuff

[elfrootaddict]

HERALD OF ANDRASTE - Chapter 2/4

DESCRIPTION: El'lana’s entire world is turned upside down when she, a proud Dalish elf, is bestowed the title “Herald of Andraste”.

SERIES: Halla & Wolf

VOLUME: 3

It’s been just over four days since the prisoner’s attempt of closing the Breach, and Solas did not expect her to survive. As she lay unconscious for hours, then a day, and then into several nights, it was only a matter of time before she would be declared dead. 

She may have survived the Conclave by accidentally entering the Fade, Solas thought to himself, but to survive closing the Breach with her magical limitations? Impossible. 

Just as Solas had theorised, the mark had stopped spreading like the Breach, which helped solidify his value to Cassandra. Seems her desire to see him executed will have to wait. 

When nearing the end of the third day, Solas was preparing the little belongings he had in anticipation of the prisoner’s demise, so that he could reconnect with his agents as soon as possible.

However, not too long after making the decision to leave did he notice a lot of stirring and commotion amongst the people of Haven. Suddenly everyone started rushing to witness something. Or someone. 

While keeping his distance, Solas witnessed Lana awkwardly shuffle through the gawking crowd of people. 

This prisoner somehow managed to defy all reasonable odds. Again?

Only when Lana disappeared into the Chantry, did Solas retreat back to his cabin to reconsider his strategy. A few thoughts had come to mind but he quickly settled on one; he was going to leave regardless, and have one of his agents spy on the prisoner for him. His time is too valuable, and he was not going to waste it here, especially when his spies could do the work for him just fine. 

Also, he was not comfortable being the only apostate amongst so many unrestrained Chantry forces. Rumours of the rebel mages causing the Breach was growing, and he wanted no part in it.

Once Solas was packed and ready to leave, he opened his cabin to once again find the people of Haven gathering to witness something else. This time, it was in front of the Chantry. 

With his curiosity peaked, Solas decided to quickly see what the commotion was all about before he left. 

As Solas reached a perfectly concealed spot, he patiently watched and waited as Cassandra, Liliana, Josephine Montyliet and Commander Cullan stood ideally by in a huddle in front of the slowly growing crowd. After a few moments of nothing, Solas decided it was probably no more than a public service announcement of sorts for the people of Haven.

As Solas was about to turn to leave, he suddenly saw the prisoner step out of the Chantry. With genuine shock slapped across his face, Solas witnessed Cassandra gesture for the prisoner to stand with them in formation, as an equal, and announce the rebirth of the Inquisition. 

As momentous as the occasion was to witness, especially considering it was current and not a memory in the Fade, Solas could not help but bewilderedly stare at the prisoner as she stood front-in-center of the ceremony.

She is clearly no longer their prisoner. No, she has become someone important. Someone, I need to keep an eye on myself.  

***

It is now the fourth day, in the late afternoon, and the people of Haven are starting to prepare for the evening meals. Solas is making his way back to his cabin when he passes Varric, who is warming himself by a large fire, and regards him with a friendly nod.

“Hey, Chuckles! Hold on a moment.”

Solas stops to turn around, “Yes, Master Tethras?”

“Please, Varric is fine. I’m not one for fancy titles.”

“My apologies, Varric. What can I do for you?” and with a subtle, polite gesture from Solas, the two men continue walking together. 

“Look, I don’t like telling people what to do just as much as the next guy, but I can tell when someone needs company.”

Solas looks down at the dwarf slightly puzzled, “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but I am in no need of any company?”

“I wasn’t talking about you.”

The two men walk up a small flight of steps which leads to a large, open space with cabins situated on either side, and another directly in front. 

“Who, then?”

Varric folds his arms across his chest, and cocks his head over his left shoulder and whispers, “Lana.”

Solas leans to the side and notices a pair of two bare feet, wrapped in thin, makeshift leather strips, hiding behind the cabin opposite to his.

“What does that have to do with me?”

Varric sighs loudly, “I understand you like being alone, but our little Dalish there? From what I could gather, this is probably the first time in her life that she’s been away from her clan.”

Solas becomes visibly uncomfortable at Varric’s insinuation, “And you think because I’m an elf, that I would be able to console her?”

Throwing his hands up and shaking his head, “Is that so hard to understand? Sure, there is Minaeve but she’s too, you know, Andrastian. Lana would perhaps enjoy talking to someone less, Chantry?” Varric sighs and crosses his arms. “Look, just go talk to her will you? Maker’s breath, she won’t bite!” and walks away, leaving Solas with a decision. 

All Solas wanted to do was to get out of the blasted Fereldan cold. He looks down at his toes, sighs, and realises they are going to have to stay frozen a little while longer. 

As Solas begins his quiet approach, he notice’s Lana sitting on a loose fur rug, knees close to her chest, and with her back against the cabin as she softly hums a melody to herself. Solas also notices an ink pot beside her, and then sees her slowly guiding the quill on some parchment as she draws a pair of eyes.

As Solas’s shadow casts down on Lana, she looks up from her sketch and immediately squeals from fright, causing Solas’s entire body to subtly jolt as he tries not to squeal in return. 

That would be entirely unbecoming. 

Lana brings her hand up to block the sun’s rays, her eyes trying to adjust to the silhouette towering above her. Soon small details begin to reveal themselves, and Lana eventually recognises that it’s Solas. 

Taking in a deep breath of relief, Lana chuckles loudly, “Ir abelas, lethallin! I wasn’t expecting anybody to find me here.”

After quietly composing himself, Solas calmly responds, “Apologies. It seems I have frightened you. I should have announced my presence sooner.” 

Lana removes her gaze and looks back at her sketch, “Oh no, don’t worry. I just startle easily. Not a very good trait for someone to have in my position, I suppose.” and turns to look back up at Solas with a gentle, innocent smile.

“Do not bother yourself with their perceptions of you. For it is your mark they are primarily concerned about, after all.”

Lana sighs, “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Is there something you needed, Solas? Is Cassandra looking for me?”

“No, Cassandra does not need you. If it’s no trouble, would you mind if I joined you?”

Lana’s smile widens, and she happily moves her ink pot out the way as she shuffles herself over to make more room on the rug, “No of course not, you can sit here.” and taps her hand on the empty space. 

Solas places his staff against the cabin and sits down next to her. With his legs crossed, Solas turns to regard Lana, “So, the Chosen of Andraste, a blessed hero sent to save us all.”

Lana’s shoulder length, silver hair swoops in a flick as she looks around to ensure nobody but Solas can hear her, “Banal! These shems are crazy. I’m not,” forming air quotations. “The ‘Herald of Andraste’ and I have no interest in being anyone’s hero,” and she leans back against the cabin to continue drawing. “All I want is to find a way to seal this Breach. Ghilas ma vhenas.”

Solas releases a quiet sigh under his breath, “Pragmatic, but ultimately irrelevant,” and he too, looks down at Lana’s sketch. “Who is that?”

“Keeper Deshanna,” answers Lana proudly and turns to look up at Solas. Based on his subtly confused expression, she realises she needs to explain. “She’s the Keeper of my clan.”

Solas offers a subtle nod in response and quietly critiques her skills, and determines she is quite talented, “Why are you drawing your Keeper?”

Lana rests her quill on the parchment and sighs, “I… well... you might think it strange. But I wanted to draw the faces of my family back home. I don’t-” 

Lana turns away from Solas and clears her throat. “I don’t know when I’ll see them again, and I want something to look back on while I’m here,” and turns back at the parchment. “Something to help me remember their faces,”

Lana quickly wipes away at an escaped tear and releases a soft, embarrassed laugh, “Ir abelas. You don’t have to sit with me. I actually don’t mind my own company.”

“Neither, do I,” murmurs Solas. “The company of others can be quite trying.”

Except for some Spirits.

Lana’s face immediately bursts into a happier demeanour, “Me, too! Ugh, especially with shems! I don’t know how to act around them. I don’t have a lot of experience, obviously.”

Solas is surprised to find Lana using the word ‘shem’ without a hint of disgust as one would expect from a Dalish elf. The only thing Solas finds the Dalish and city elves have in common, are their constant derogatory tones whenever they say “shem”. However, Lana appears to be saying it without contempt and Solas finds himself curious over why that is.

Offering only another subtle nod as a response, Solas decides to keep their conversation going a little while longer, "If you don’t mind me asking, I heard you humming before, and I’ve never heard such a beautiful melody in any of my travels before. Is it of your own making?”

“Oh, you heard that? No, I didn’t create it. It's actually a very old Dalish song parents sing to their little ones before bed. It’s called Mir Da’len Somniar,” and turns warmly to admire her sketch. “The Keeper always sang it to me.”

“Why not your own parents?”

Lana’s face suddenly stiffens as she falls quiet, and Solas immediately regrets having asked the question, “I’m sorry. I seemed to have upset you. Forget I asked.”

Lana continues sketching and eventually answers, “For a time they did, but they died. A long time ago. The Keeper raised me as her own.” and with that, Lana continues shaping the eyes of the Keeper.

With a gentle voice, Solas murmurs, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay, you didn’t know.” and Lana finalises the details on the eyes and then begins with the eyebrows. 

With their conversation having suddenly reached an immediate halt, with neither one knowing what to say next, Solas decides to talk about the one thing he feels the most comfortable with. The Fade.

While focusing his gaze on the Breach in the sky, Solas unpromptly shares one of his many veracious stories with Lana, “I’ve journeyed deep into the Fade to ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations,” Lana stops to regard him and Solas, still focused on the Breach, doesn’t take notice. “I’ve watched as hosts of spirits clash to reenact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten,” he turns to face Lana and is startled to find her gaze already upon him. “You say you don’t want to be a hero but every great war has its heroes. I’m just curious what kind you’ll be?”

Lana ignores the question and instead asks one of her own, “Ruins and battlefields? What do you mean?”

Solas is pleasantly surprised at Lana actually having paid attention, as he expected her to answer his question boldly and ignorantly. Instead, he has unintentionally piqued her curiosity, and suddenly feels a rush of excitement over the fact. 

Solas turns his body slightly towards Lana as he gladly educates, “Any building strong enough to withstand the riggers of time has a history. Every battlefield is steeped in death. Both attract spirits. They press against the Veil, weakening the barrier between our worlds,” Solas turns away, losing himself in his mind's eye. “When I dream in such places, I go deep into the Fade. I can find memories no other living being has ever seen.”

Lana places a light hand on Solas’s shoulder as she cries out in horror, “You fall asleep in the middle of ancient ruins? Isn’t that dangerous?”

Solas takes a quick glance at her hand on his shoulder, and releases a cheeky smile, “I do set wards. And if you leave food out for the giant spiders, they are usually content to live and let live.”

Lana drops her hand and looks away as she contemplates on what Solas has shared with her. Her eyes appear wider than usual as they dart from side-to-side. Then, as she looks back up, Solas holds his breath as he braces himself for her to either disregard or openly mock him for his choice of study.

They always do.

“I’ve never heard of anyone going so far into the Fade before, Solas,” her smile widens with pure, innocent excitement. “That’s extraordinary!”

This has yet to be the most positive response he has ever received. The moment Solas would mention his studies and observations of the Fade, people either politely excuse themselves or openly mock him. They would never ask questions and then openly praise him for his accomplishments.

Solas’s emotions begin to turn as he starts to feel guilty for having such animosity towards Lana before. At a minimum, he expected her to be crude and hostile, just like all the other Dalish people he’s come across. The last thing he thought she would be... is agreeable. If it wasn’t for her vallaslin, he would not associate her as Dalish at all. 

Humbled by Lana’s excitement, Solas smiles, “Thank you. It’s not a common field of study, for obvious reasons. Not so flashy as throwing fire or lightning. The thrill of finding remnants of a thousand-year-old dream? I would not trade it for anything,” Solas pauses, losing himself in his thoughts yet again. Unsure of what to say in light of his sudden silence, Lana awkwardly looks away to observe her sketch. 

“I will stay then,” announces Solas as he breaks the silence between them, causing Lana to face him once again. “At least until the Breach has been closed.”

“You weren’t going to stay?”

“I am an apostate mage surrounded by Chantry forces and unlike you, I do not have a divine mark protecting me,” Solas lowers his voice as he murmurs. “Cassandra has been accommodating, but you understand my caution.”

Lana averts her gaze and thinks about her next few words very carefully, “You came here to help, Solas,” and turns back to look deep into his eyes. “For as long as they care for my opinion, I won’t let them use that against you.”

“And how would you stop them?” he asks smugly.

“However I had to. As a Dalish and First, I will not sit by and let any elf be subjected to shemlen arrogance.”

This time, Solas noticed she said ‘shemlen’ with disgust.

Despite Lana meaning what she said, he still admires her courage, however misguided it may be. Solas knows she holds no real power over the humans should they wish to harm him. Nevertheless, Solas doesn’t want to appear ungrateful towards her display of bravery on his behalf, and answers with a simple polite bow. 

Content with their conversation and his toes practically turned to frostbite, he decides this would be a good time as any to head back to his cabin. 

However, just as he is about to stand up, Lana unexpectedly puts her quill and papers down on the ground, perks herself up as her, and with her overall mood clearly improved she looks at him with her wide, lavender eyes.

More questions?

Elvish to English Translation:

“Ir abelas, lethallin” = I’m sorry, lethallin

“Banal” = Never

“Ghilas ma vhenas” = I want to go home

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

READ ON AO3

Halla & Wolf Series

[stillwinterair]

Hey Nick, out of curiousity, whenever the next draogn age is announced, is there anything in particular you'd be interested in it having? Personally I'm hoping at least for playable city elves again, and... better camera work for dwarves and qunari if both are palyable as well (qunari being more in doubt)

Yesss, I'd also much prefer city elves. I've never been much into the Dalish, and city elves are fascinating and easy for me to connect with. I'd also much prefer if a human PC had, like, no connection to nobility whatsoever. There are a lot of theories that we're going to be starting as a slave in Tevinter and I REALLY want that, and it'd be a lot better if you didn't have, like, a secret rich family waiting for you in the Free Marches or something.A very small gameplay detail I've always wanted to make it into a DA game is something where the PC always takes up the exact same amount of space on the screen no matter the race. So like, if you're a dwarf, the camera is zoomed in enough to where you just look like a human with different proportions, and then everybody else is just really big. If you're in a room full of other dwarves, someone unfamiliar with the game might not even notice because the camera would be low enough to where it just looks normal. It'd also help with immersion a lot, if everybody just looked bigger. And obviously, the opposite would go for qunari.Also I just... really want a good villain. Loghain, the Arishok, and Meredith were all reeeeally close, but fell short in some way or another. Loghain's story ends before the finale for most players, the Arishok's ends at the end of the story's second act, and Meredith gets that good ol' switcheroo where, instead of her complex political opinions motivating her, it was the mysterious magical artifact manipulating her the whole time!!!! And then she randomly turns into an evil golemancer for some reason and everything goes to shit and it's a lot of... well, in Varric's words, "weird shit."DA keeps getting so close but missing the mark only slightly. I just really want them to really focus on the antagonist as a foil for the player. Especially after Corypheus, who just spends half of Inquisition monologuing, and the other half just LOSING. He loses ground, and soldiers, and... god. He comes off like such a chump.Also I just want sidequests to come back. I'm so Tired of collecting 10 rabbit ears, or escorting someone's lost pet, or clearing out a cave full of hostiles. The Witcher 3 and Horizon: ZD have fucking spoiled me, and I want that level of quality in games like Dragon Age. Sidequests shouldn't be menial tasks, they should use the game mechanics to tell a story--not through walls of text in journal entries and codex pages, but through characters and dialogue. Hell, they can even get away with those bland quest designs as long as they make them interesting with characters, cutscenes, and choices. And twists!! What happened to the twists?? Have a farmer send us on a quest to kill a blood mage, only to have us discover--if we try to take nonviolent means--that the blood mage is using their blood magic to heal the sick from an illness sweeping the countryside!! Reveal that the farmer KNOWS this, but didn't tell you because blood magic is illegal and he's a Good, Maker-Fearing Chantry Man who'd rather let people shit themselves to death than let a blood mage go free!! Who would your character side with? How would they resolve the situation? Did you talk the farmer down, simply refuse to do anything, or kill the blood mage anyway? No matter what you do, shit can still happen! The blood mage might kill the farmer, or the farmer might call in templars to kill the blood mage AND you, or the spreading illness might become a plague, whomst fucking knows, just anything's better than another "hey, this guy is causing Real Problems, go and kill him," and then you do, and then it's over.Second-to-last, I'm tired of being The Chosen One. I really love the concept of Hawke; just some fucking kid and their friends absolutely ruin a city by getting swept up into all its bullshit. Lemme be someone without the touch of fate. And if I fall into shit by accident, please, Maker, don't make my foot the key to stopping an apocalypse, and don't put an Old God's one weakness in my bones. When I do shit, I wanna do it because I earned it. Lemme be a hero by circumstance, not by fate.And last, but CERTAINLY not least... Maevaris Tilani as a companion, voiced by Jamie Clayton. Boom, mic drop, not even proofreading

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [46]

“So, you’re - tied to a cage,” Lavellan turns towards Solas as if he could affirm for her that there is, indeed, a very large, horned man tied to a cage at the outskirts of Lothering. “I’m - you couldn’t fit into the cage, could you?”

Solas ignores them both and scans the area for Cassandra. It shouldn’t be taking the woman this long. Blackwall has been waiting for them towards the outskirts of Lothering for at least half an hour by now. Solas is mildly surprised by the man’s patience, or perhaps restraint, in not coming back and dragging them all off by the scruffs of their necks.

“Well, no,” The man replies, sounding as amused as one probably should be in this situation. He’s taking it gracefully, apparently. “It wasn’t really build with something like me in mind.”

“He’s Qunari, Lavellan,” Solas says before she can begin her interrogation of the poor man. He’s already been tied to a cage - no need to submit him to Lavellan’s brand of questioning as well.

“Well, why are  you tied to the cage?” Lavellan asks, “Couldn’t you just - break the rope?”

The man shrugs, “Honestly? My guys are coming around in a few days to spring me anyway. I figure why not go along with it? I’ve got a bucket to piss in and a bucket to drink from. They’re separate buckets. Don’t give me that look.”

“Oh,” Lavellan looks around, “But why?���

The man grunts, raising one shoulder as he leans against the cage, “They got pissed because of the Darkspawn and shit. Blamed the nearest foreigner. I’m not mad about it. I figure - might as well let them tie me up for a while rather than have them cause trouble for my boys.”

Solas turns and catches Lavellan’s look just in time, “No.”

Lavellan’s eyes snap to him, sparkling with ideas. Solas deeply regrets not staying in the woods. As irritating as it was to be bothered by random and foolish travelers, it would probably be less of a headache than Lavellan’s brand of heroism.

“I’m stealing the Qunari,” Lavellan says.

“What?”

All three of them look up in time to see Cassandra, in all of her authoritative fury.

“I’m stealing the Qunari,” Lavellan repeats, drawing her knife and moving towards the rope.

The man holds his hands out of her reach.

Lavellan gestures for him to give her his hands, “If you’re worried about your friends, you could leave them a note. I mean - a Dalish elf, a moody elf, and a Seeker of Truth, plus a Gray Warden walking about Ferelden? We’re hard to miss. Also I have a deer. I love him. He kisses me when I feel lonely.”

The man looks over her head at Solas as if he could affirm that there is, indeed, a young Dalish woman with a knife trying to break him out of a fake prison.

Solas pointedly looks at Cassandra.

This is not his show.

It’s not quite Cassandra’s, either; no one’s sure who’s it is, yet, but Cassandra, of the four of them - Blackwall included - has the most authority.

“You are not stealing a Qunari,” Cassandra says.

“Fine,” Lavellan says, putting her dagger away, “Who’s in charge of Lothering? Cassandra, use your - your important person status to get them to hand him over to us. He’s tied to a cage and he has buckets. I will not stand for this.”

Lavellan immediately drops to the ground. “I am sitting here until this man is untied or his rope is in my hands so I can untie it myself. I insist.”

-

“I need to come South to visit Orzammar more often,” Varric muses as Lavellan examines a rock formation that she claims looks like a fox. “This shit is too good to miss. I mean, top side it’s crazy as all hell, but you guys are making it work.”

“Thanks,” Bull says, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s had to squeeze through too many tight tunnels today for his comfort.  “Nice work with the crossbow. Underground and close quarter fights are admittedly not my thing.”

“And yet here you are anyway,” Varric points out as Lavellan and Dorian begin to bicker over the rocks, Cole watching them curiously from the side as they point and wave their arms. “Lively bunch for a group who’s supposed to be up against the Blight. And I count two Wardens among you.”

“Well, it’s not a party unless there’s four,” Bull says, “Besides, you came along.”

“I have a fondness for heroes,” Varric replies, “I dabble in writing.”

“As a writer, how do you think this one ends?”

“A big boom,” Varric answers, “The girl saves the day and gets her romance - maybe -, or something about the power of friendship. But those aren’t the stories I go in for.”

“Alright, how would you write this, then?”

“Someone dies, there’s a betrayer among you and it’s not who you think, also someone’s going to lose something important,” Varric says, “But hey - you’ll all live, for the most part. I’m a sucker for a good ending like that.”

“Sounds like a shitty book,” Bull replies.

“Ah, the main character always says that about their story,” Varric laughs.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t read it, though,” Bull points out. “I’d just call it garbage the entire time.”

“But there’s that one line that just keeps you going, right?”

“Bull!” Lavellan’s voice echoes out through the cavern, “Tell Dorian that this isn’t quartz! You studied rocks. Agree with me!”

Bull raises his hand in acknowledgement, “More like one theme. But you’ve got it, mostly. If we live through this mess you better describe me in perfect detail.”

“Mess of a face, rippling gut, and bleeding heart? Done and done.”

-

“Blackwall,” Lavellan springs up onto the man’s back, arms and legs easily looping around him. Blackwall sighs, but grabs her legs and pushes her up his back, resigning himself to this for at least half an hour.

It’s good training, he tells himself.

“Lavellan,” He says.

“Work on pick up lines with me,” She says.

“No.”

“They’re Gray Warden themed. Varric and Sera helped me write them.”

“A stronger no.”

“But how will I know that they’re good Gray Warden pick up lines if you don’t help me?”

“This isn’t appropriate, Lavellan.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m thirty years your senior.”

“Hahren is thirty years my senior and he doesn’t mind.”

“No, he just doesn’t care.” Blackwall sighs, “There’s a difference.”

“Blackwall!”

“Practice on Bull.”

“I can’t practice on Bull because I’m trying to use them on Bull,” Lavellan sulks. “I mean, mostly I just want to make him laugh. I think he’s a little sad because we had to split up and leave his friends behind at Redcliffe.”

“Oh, in that case - still no,” Blackwall says. “I regret ever picking you up.”

“No you don’t,” Lavellan pokes his face. “You like me. I’m your favorite student ever. You and Solas are so similar, you both like to pretend you think I’m annoying.”

“Are you sure we’re pretending?”

“Of course I am, you always smile at me whenever I get something right when you think I don’t notice. Which is silly. I’m Dalish. If I don’t notice things I get killed.”