#a mage and a hypocrite <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[albaharu]

dude that def hasn't let one bad experience color his whole world and it's very openminded

[donovaneagle2098]

A Complete Encyclopedia of the Lore of Every Witcher School

This is a project I've been working on for a long time. The Witcher Schools in general have lore spread across 3 or 4 different sources, so it's very easy to find inaccurate details about each school due to a person only going off of one source without even knowing of the others. Hell, I've been guilty of this in the past. So I've gone out of my way to find every source available for the various Witcher Schools and compile it into one master post, mostly pulling from the standalone Gwent game, and the Witcher TRPG, as well as an email conversation I've had with the TRPG's writer, Cody Pondsmith. Without further ado, let's start out with the original school, the Order of Witchers.

Witcher schools are like the Clans of Skellige, subtly different, but largely united by their common ground, and that common ground is the Order of Witchers.

The Order of Witchers began as an experiment by the rogue mages Alzur and his mentor Cosimo Malaspina. They "recruited" tests subjects from orphanages, buying them from neglectful parents, or outright kidnapping street kids.

From Cosimo's Gwent Card:

"Children keep asking him for gifts. He doesn’t know why, but it really helps with finding subjects for his experiments."

The main goal of this project was to create an order of knights artificially mutated and imbued with extreme levels of magic to protect people from a world where, at the time, monsters were often literally around every corner.

The mutation experiments were grueling, and most early candidates died horribly, the girls especially, as the mutagenic compounds the mages were working with at the time were better suited for a boys physiology, and they quickly stopped trying to find a mixture that worked well with women, instead refining the more successful candidate pool to meet deadlines. Even with these refinements, however, the Witchers couldn't actually generate much in the way of magical power, at least not nearly as much as those funding the project had hoped for.

These early candidates were encouraged to stick to political neutrality, were told of their duty to protect the common people, and their sword instructor tried to encourage them to take on knightly virtues to live their lives by, though only a few candidates actually bought fully into these particular knightly ideals.

The school developed a training regimen that all later Witcher schools would put their own small twists on. They perfected the whirling sword style, practiced on the Pendulum and Gauntlet training courses. They learned the Witcher Sign magic, created by Cosimo. They were taught hunting and monster lore from experts hired from across the world, and master alchemists crafted the famous Witcher potions.

Ultimately, funding from this school would be pulled due to the Witcher candidates lack of truly powerful magic ability, and the order would start to fracture. Witchers dissatisfied with their lot in life after being forcibly mutated, and railing against the Order's enforced ideals began getting combatative with other Witchers over petty contracts. At this time, contracts were so plentiful that there was no real need to fight over them, but these dissident Witchers did so anyway out of a desire for autonomy and to be free of the Order's code, which they saw as having no practical purpose to prepare new Witchers for the road ahead, and hypocritical as it was forced on them by the mages who never cared for the Witcher's lives. This culminated in one such outspoken Witcher, Arnaghad, attacking another Witcher who poached a contract from him.

After being forced into the painful life of a Witcher, Arnaghad loathed anyone who imposed their will upon him, the Order and it's codes especially. He led an attack on the Order proper, aided by fellow Witchers who respected his defiance towards authority. Once they were beaten back, these dissidents fled to the Amell mountain range to start the next Witcher school, the School of the Bear.

The School of the Bear is one of the most misunderstood schools of them all, owing to the first major lore drop about them being largely in-universe rumors and conjecture surrounding the school, and as such I may need to go more in depth. The two major misconceptions stemming from this is the rumor about their armor, which claims that they don't bother dodging like the other Witchers and instead take blows head on (generally a bad idea, according to Geralt in the books), and the rumor about them attacking most Witchers they meet.

I contacted Cody Pondsmith, who wrote a great deal of this lore, and he mentioned that Bears do often threaten or even fight other Witchers, but in a very Skellige way, only to ward off the other Witcher from contracts they want. The Bears just want to live lives where they aren't commanded by others, and were trained especially brutally, and so will fight for what contracts they want. However they will NEVER kill another Witcher, just draw first blood (outside of duels to decide who runs the school, which occasionally turn deadly. It's unknown if Arnaghad has ever lost these duels) and if that other Witcher stands up to the Bear, they'll let them have the contract and if they meet up and work together enough even maybe become a lifelong friend.

To quote Cody himself: "I like to think of the Witcher Order as a big family in which the Bear School is the blunt, no-nonsense brother. He can be prickly and a bit of a bully sometimes but he takes his job seriously and he can be a good drinking buddy if you get to know him. Not the friendliest of people but far from evil. If you stand up to him and show him you're not afraid of him, he'll respect you."

The other rumor is also an exaggeration. The Witcher TRPG mentions that the Bear armor was designed with flexibility in mind, and while they trained to take on weaker blows with their armor and "mastery of the Quen sign", they also trained how to move quickly in their armor if they needed to dodge a fatal blow. The Bears also still trained on the gauntlet and pendulum like the other schools. Cody Pondsmith also confirmed that the Bears are just as agile as the other Witchers.

The Bears' core philosophy is almost very Lambert like, viewing Witcher's work not as a duty, or knightly virtue, but as difficult, brutal work. The only reason they stick to this work is to do a job where no one else commands them and they're left in peace. They focus only on the practical aspects of their profession, and as such discourage their students from working together in training, since Witchers work alone. As Arnaghad said, "We pass through life alone, better get used to it!" As a result, Bears are very isolated, preferring their own company to that of other Witchers, and were encouraged to value their autonomy and self care above all else. The Bears' approach to teaching was embodied as "let them better themselves through practical, dangerous trials. Survival of the fittest", embodied by final trial, that involved climbing to the top of Mt. Gorgon and back, and any who died from the cold were left "as a sobering reminder of the dangers of their trade". This resulted in the students of the school seeing things in a very callous, survival of the fittest way. Be as strong as you can, and let the perils of Witcher training and life pick off those who can't keep up. As a result, the Bears were by far the smallest Witcher school.

Despite this, the TRPG has a list of random early training events Witchers from all schools can have, and Bears could sometimes make friends amongst their fellow witchers in training just like members of every other school.

Once the new Bear students left their keep of Haern Caduch, most wouldn't return to winter there, unlike the other schools. They developed a reputation as being terrible to fight, and for being firebrands, often speaking very bluntly and quick to anger no matter who they spoke to, authority included. One such Witcher, named Gerd, was asked by a Duchess to help kill her father. He insulted her so badly he got a warrant for his death placed on him, though all the peasants he met spoke rather highly of him. As a result, Bears found it easiest to make friends amongst the similarly minded Dwarves and Gnomes of the Amell mountains, and people of the Skellige Isles. According to Cody Pondsmith, this is the main reason the Bears stayed together as a group at all. They valued autonomy above all else and so long as they functioned as a Witcher school, they were left alone and no rulers would try and command them. They also largely take their ideals of free will and apply it to others, never seeking to rule over others. They simply wish to live their lives free.

One of the original Witchers to side with Arnaghad, Ivar Evil-Eye, had extra mutations done to him by the Order of Witchers during his trial, allowing him to see into other worlds. In these visions he saw the Wild Hunt rampaging across them, conquering them. Ivar became obsessed with stopping them, and tried to kill Arnaghad to take command and lead the Bear school against the Hunt. This failed, so he and his supporters left to form the Viper School.

The Witchers of the Viper school, based in Gorthur Gvaed, were said to be the most secretive, taking contracts as both assassins and witchers. They at first dedicated themselves finding a way to stop the Wild Hunt, amassing a massive library on the subject. Fighting with an unpredictable, ambushed based variant of the Witcher fighting style, Viper Witchers employed poisons, brewed by skilled Viper alchemists, on both their swords, and a dagger in their offhand, their biggest deviation from typical Witcher combat techniques.

Vipers, for an unknown reason, eventually forgot their purpose. In his time, Letho of Gullet could only guess at why the school had been founded. Instead, they became famous for their skill at political killings, dealing with the nobility of the southern countries before Nilfgaard had even become a large-scale power.

Viper students had a different type of trial, after more grueling than typical training. Instead of any physical task like the other schools, the Viper students were given a pet at their induction to the school. And to graduate, they simply had to hunt it down and kill it, showing their lack of mercy.

While most of those who supported Ivar followed him to the Viper school, one group broke off and west east, across the Korath desert, to Zerikania, founding the School of the Manticore.

The School of the Manticore was founded by the Witcher Iwan, from the School of the Bear, following Ivar's assassination attempt on Arnaghad. They got work in the Korath desert as caravan guards, earning the attention of the Zerrikanian Queen after a deadly battle with a manticore. The Queen sponsored the Witchers of the Manticore, making them the only school to be officially backed by any government. They were experts on potions and anti-toxins, a necessity of dealing with the poisonous creatures of the Korath desert.

A unique adaptation to the monsters of the desert also had Manticore Witchers employ shields into the whirling combat of their Witcher training. Given their extra support, the Manticores held two keeps, Behelt Nar and Bailsuf Alsarea, on opposite sides of the desert, so that they might better patrol and guard those within it.

The Manticore is the final school to come from the schism Arnaghad had led. The other voices of dissent against the ideals of the Order would soon hear of these new schools and decide to break off as well to form the School of the Cat.

The School of the Cat was founded out of a response to the hatred and distrust Witchers received. They desired to be seen in a better, more respectful light. Ironically, they would end up doing the opposite. The Cat School stole away with several of the mutagens needed to make more Witchers and headed to Ebbing, and Stygga Citadel, where they would begin to experiment on human-elf children in an attempt to perfect the mutations. Its possible that the mages at this time furthered experiments on making women Witchers, but this is not confirmed yet.

Attempting to make a name for themselves, the Cats hired themselves out as spies, assassins, and mercenaries, genuinely earning them some respect from common folk for killing bandits.

In their attempts to perfect the mutations and further dull the emotions of their Witchers, the Cat school experimented harshly on a group of children that resulted in the opposite, giving these Witchers hightened emotional responses instead. These students, cast aside and left for dead, fled into the arms of a group of elves, who agreed to support them if this branch of the Cat School supported the elves' fight for freedom.

This branch, led by Gezras of Leyda, attached itself to the Dyn Marv caravan and traveled the continent, lending their services mostly to those nonhumans who could pay, while the main Cats at Stygga ended up getting assaulted by angry royals incited by their political maneuvering. This left the Dyn Marv branch as the only functional element of the School of the Cat. These Cats would train students' agility in a light, fast Elven take on Witcher fighting style, and would train their balance by making students walk a tightrope, starting low to the ground at first, but getting higher and higher each attempt.

The Cat school's breaking of Witcher neutrality and reputation for bloodlust earned Witchers such a bad name that those in the Order who most cherished their old swordmaster's knightly virtues would leave to form the School of the Griffin.

The School of the Griffin, led by Erland of Larvik, wished to truly achieve the dream of the original Order, and Gryphon, the Order's sword instructor. They traveled north to Kaer y Saren, an old fortress the Order once used, and cleansed it of the spirits of those who died in the first Witcher mutations. From there, they began a Witcher school focused on respectability and honor, believing in their knightly duties. And it worked, somewhat. The Griffins were sometimes advisors to nobility, and seen as honorable, but the prejudice against Witchers would never leave, and most would never see a Griffin Witcher as anything more than a monster playing at being a knight.

These Witchers tried their best to cushion their students against the pain of their lives on the Witcher's path, and were more brotherly than the other schools, though their knightly virtues and brotherhood were oftentimes cold comfort to Griffin students.

From the Witcher TRPG Sourcebook:

"Witcher I knew couldn’t really remember much ‘bout his past. Heh, too young to really form a lotta memories when they took him to Kaer Y Seren. Told me that the memory he did have made the mutations easier. Poor bastard clung to a memory of his pa takin’ him on a horse for a ride in the fields. Don’t know why he chose that one. Probably the only normal memory he had."

The Griffins amassed a huge library of magical knowledge, though they could only push sign magic so far, and the books were likely wasted being in a Witcher library. The library held several incredibly famous tomes on magic within, and was the envy of full mages across the Northern Realms. Despite all their efforts, they never could achieve their goal of bringing about the Order of Witcher's vision. The Griffins even had their own breaches of Witcher tradition in pursuit of their knightly heroics. An often said mantra of the Griffin school in Gwent is "To slay dragons! Tis our knightly duty!" despite dragons being largely innocent, intelligent beings who mostly wish to be left in peace.

Code Pondsmith had this to say about the Griffins:

"The Griffins stuck to the knightly traditions that the original witcher order tried to uphold. As a result it's safe to say that the Griffin school taught that monsters were the enemy of mankind and must be defeated. I don't think they would all be blindly overzealous but they wouldn't have any qualms about slaying sapient monsters if they believed it was for the good of mankind. Similarly, it's likely that they would side with humans in any conflict between monsters and humans. In a way, the Griffins' knightly virtues made them easier to manipulate than the other witcher schools. They were bound to protect humanity and thus were more likely to be convinced to hunt a monster if a local noble or alderman claimed it would be for the good of the people. This is the case with the dragons. The kingdoms and jewelers guilds of the North convinced the Griffin School that dragons were a blight upon humanity and the Griffins started slaying dragons regardless of whether all of the dragons they slew deserved it. Additionally, the knightly values might make Griffin school witchers more likely to take pity on desperate humans and work for free."

Those few Witchers remaining in the Order by now traveled to northern Kaedwyn, and started a school based on their tempered, traditionalist, and realistic view on the Order's goals. They based themselves in Kaer Morhen and dubbed themselves the School of the Wolf.

The School of the Wolf is the most famous Witcher school, known for their professionalism and efficiency. They don't kill humans like the Viper or Cat. Aren't bold or brash like the Bear, or put Knightly virtues above Witcher ideals like the Griffin. I mean, anyone reading far this knows who the Wolf Witchers are, so I'm not going to get into to much detail. They're Geralt's school. Ciri's school. While the Griffins school wasted it's energy on trying to be what Witchers were supposed to be, the Wolf set its goals on being the best they realistically could be.

They took a balanced approached to Witcher life and as such trained Witchers who were the best adjusted out of the schools, with neither the Bear's harshness nor the Griffin's egocentrism. They perfected the Witcher's style of combat, refining their swordsmanship into an incredibly graceful dance. Combined with their professional attitude and teachings that allowed Wolf Witchers to adapt very well to most situations thrown at them, Wolf Witchers were lauded all across the Continent.

With all Schools formed, the Golden Age of Witchers began, at first with the Bears and Griffins making peace. From Erland of Larvik's Journal (The TRPG's monster manual):

"Surprisingly enough the fracturing of the witcher order had lead to a more effective organization for us witchers. Spread across the Continent and each making more witchers independently, it was no longer the task of 60 or 70 witchers to patrol the entire Continent from Nilfgaard to Kovir. Each school patrolled their own path and when a Gryphon met with a Bear each knew they had their territory and any infighting wouldn’t be worth the bloodshed. We managed to broker peace and live as somewhat estranged brothers rather than bitter enemies"

Witchers at this time were seen largely as heroes, with their detractors' voices largely simmering underneath. With Witchers around to kill monsters, people felt safe and so ignored any misgivings they might have.

Witchers, no matter the school, aren't too dissimilar from each other, and so the Cintinent at large formed an overall opinion of the Witchers based on the traits they all shared. From the TRPG:

"In the heyday of witchers there were many many seperate schools, which all mutated new witchers and taught them the neccesary skills to hunt monsters and lift curses. While it’s generally agreed that there is a core set of skills required to a be a witcher, each school taught its students differently and focused on different aspects of witcher training. Thus, witchers from different schools often act differently and go about their jobs in similar but varied ways."

During this period, the Schools all would produce hundreds of Witchers (though at any given time, most schools had about 20 Witchers running the school, a handful of novices undergoing the trials, and around 30-50 Witchers on the path hunting monsters. This fluctuated from school to school. The Bear's brutal training resulted in the lowest number of Witchers amongst the schools, while the Wolves' prolific status and high success rates meant they took in more candidates and had more Witchers than the other schools), and each was their own person, With their own preferences and personality, despite the schools themselves having reputations for Witchers with only a few certain traits. For instance, the Bear Witcher Ivo of Belhaven fought like a Viper or Cat Witcher, but in personality was a perfect fit for the Bear School with how standoffish he could be. The schools kept to their own territory at first, but as time went on and contracts got ever more rare, these already thin lines fell apart and the schools stopped caring much about territories.

They also all customized their gear in different ways, usually keeping their gear in similar fashion to their school's, as its what they trained in an were used to. For example, Bear Witcher Junod of Belhaven wore what appears to be a set of Wolf School armor he had modified to fit Bear Witcher style.

Witchers also at this time experimented with signs. The Griffins obviously focused on making them more powerful, and the Bears pushed Quen to a level beyond any other school. But the most interesting case is that of Warrit, a blind Viper Witcher who used the lesser known Suppire sign as a form of echolocation.

The Golden age lasted for around 150-200 years or so, ending around 1160 when the monster populations had been hunted down enough that people's main concern stopped being the monsters, and became the Witchers themselves.

The Griffin School, refusing to share the knowledge of its library, was destroyed by jealous mages. A group of peasants and mages attacked the Wolves' keep out of nowhere. The Bears failed to destroy a powerful cabal of vampires and, when peasants rioted and came for their keep, chose to disband rather than engage in needless slaughter. The Cat's keep of Stygga is destroyed, but the Dyn Marv chapter may still be alive and well. The Manticore School failed to protect an important prince from a fire elemental, and so lost their funding and closed. The Viper refused to support the Nilfgaardian usurper and were destroyed.

If you've made it this far, holy shit, thank you! I hope you have a great day!

[chilschuck]

— CHILCHUCK:

✦ only if you’d like me to: chilchuck x gn!reader

✦ sunshine: chilchuck x wife!reader

✦ reader who pulls him out of danger hcs: chilchuck x gn!reader

✦ tall-man reader hcs: chilchuck x fem!reader

✦ reaction to fem!tall-man dating meijack: chilchuck

✦ cuddle hcs: chilchuck x gn!reader

✦ hypocrite: chilchuck x gn!reader

✦ clingy tall-man hcs: chilchuck x gn!reader

✦ all because of you: chilchuck x gn!reader

✦ mage half-foot reader hcs: chilchuck x gn!reader

✦ shelter: chilchuck x gn!reader

✦ platonic!chilchuck hcs (+ flertom) x gn!reader

✦ plans: chilchuck x gn!reader

✦ helpful: chilchuck x gn!reader

✦ half-foot reader hcs: chilchuck x gn!reader

✦ intertwined: chilchuck x gn!reader

✦ reader who likes bugs hcs: chilchuck x gn!reader

✦ of course: chilchuck x gn!reader

✦ tall-man!chilchuck hcs: chilchuck x gn!reader

✦ reader who gives messy kisses hcs: chilchuck x gn!reader

✦ have your cake (and eat it too): chilchuck x gn!reader

— LAIOS:

✦ ice dragon!kin reader hcs: laios x gn!reader

✦ oblivious (in my love for you): laios x gn!reader

— MICKBELL:

✦ fighter fem!tall-man hcs: mickbell x fem!reader

— MITHRUN:

✦ caring for him hcs: mithrun x gn!reader

— MULTI CHARA:

✦ kissing hcs : laios & chilchuck x gn!reader

✦ lana del rey coded reader hcs: laios & chilchuck x fem!reader

✦ beach day hcs: laios, chilchuck, falin, & mickbell x gn!reader

✦ calling them by their first name: mickbell & chilchuck x gn!reader

— UPCOMING:

✦ mutual pining hcs: laios x gn!reader

✦ warlock!reader hcs: chilchuck x gn!reader

— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <3

[merakiui]

I saw Rollo is a favorite of yours! As a fellow Rollo fan I have to ask, what are your headcanons (NSFW and/or SFW) and Rollo Ranking??

I love Rollo so much!!!! <3 the amount of GloMas screenshots I have in my photos (most of Rollo) is absurd,,,, he's rightfully earned his place among my favorites.

As for headcanons, I like to portray him as a gross pervert who hides his depravity under a cordial façade. The silent, invisible stalker type who admires from afar and doesn't insert himself into your life in any noisy or abrupt manners. He tries to be natural about it even though behind closed doors he's collecting your things and masturbating to lewd thoughts of you. He oscillates between wanting to be traditional (excessively long, modest courtship) and wanting to skip all of that and just,,, rail you six ways to Sunday.

I also like to imagine he reads erotic literature,,, he's so Victorian to me hehe. Do you know of Queen Victoria's journals and how she often wrote and detailed her sex life? That's what Rollo does with his diary. He writes about you nonstop in there. Sometimes it's sweet and a little poetic. Other times it's him using the pages as an outlet because he saw how easily amazed you were with a few of your mage friends and now he's both irritated and envious that such folly could impress you so easily. Most times the pages are filled with filth. I think Rollo would write so much smut in there. orz you just have him in a horny chokehold.

He's also so delusional and hypocritical. No one is allowed to defile you, but he's an exception because he's ✨ built different. ✨ which really just means he feels he's qualified because he's the only one allowed to love you this deeply, to protect you from all harm, to be sensible enough to care for you. He's above everyone else because he always has your best interests in mind, because he is responsible and would never use magic, because he's not one to submit to temptation so easily (a lie; he folds if you so much as smile at him).

Rollo worships you. Everything that you are is utter perfection to him. He would never hurt you, but if you refuse to understand him he will have no choice but to resort to more dramatic measures. Rollo just wants to lock you away and keep you safe and happy forever. Is that really so wrong? He's certain that his thoughts are justified. He could never be the villain in this situation. It's everyone else who's villainous! He doesn't blame you if you express interest in escaping. The outside must have poisoned your mind, in which case he must show you that it's better to live in captivity, where he can ensure you're always content.

Sex with him is wild because he's spent so much time fantasizing and horny gripping and now he finally has you all to himself........ he tries to restrain himself, but it's impossible when you're wearing such pretty lingerie. <3 you will be so exhausted afterwards because he is not resting until he's tired himself out. Rollo allows himself this greedy indulgence because it's a gift from him to,,, him. ;;; a treat for all the work he's done keeping you safe.

[wasteful-sam]

Worthy [Part 3, Chapter 16]

Tags:

Slow burn, romantic, eventual smut, mutual pining, angst and feels, ongoing, F/M, Rolan/female drow.

Summary:

After two weeks at Ramazith's Tower, Rolan reflects on the torment and manipulation he endures as Lorroakan's apprentice, recalling a cruel "lesson" meant to break his spirit. Still, he clings to hope.

Notes:

CW: abuse. This chapter is, unfortunately, full of misery and angst. But I simply cannot glance over Rolan's time at the RT with the phrase, "It was bad." Our character and motives are shaped by our experiences, both uplifting and horrible, and the same goes for his. You have my word: once this arc is over, the scum of the Earth known as Lorroakan will be humiliated and destroyed.

[AO3 Link]

+++

Worthy

Part 3 | Chapter 16

Distorted

The past two weeks under Lorroakan's tutelage had felt more like two years. At least to Rolan.

Midnight crept in as the tiefling sat alone in his small study, scribbling the day's reflections into a humble diary. Rolan was far from documenting everything that had happened, however. Some truths were simply too humiliating to commit to paper - even in a private journal.

Growing weary of the day's recounting, Rolan set the quill aside and mouthed a spell. Moments later, he hovered a few inches above the chair, legs crossed in quiet suspension.

The wizard's gaze swept over his temporary abode. Small and crammed with bookshelves, it felt hollow still. Even the bed - a luxury compared to the places he'd slept in recent months - was cold and uninviting. Rolan often found himself dozing off in the chair by his work desk instead, fatigued by the myriad of tasks Lorroakan would assign him.

It seemed that the master of Ramazith's Tower could never make up his mind: one moment, Rolan would stand at the Sorcerous Sundries’ counter, trading scrolls. The next, he was in the Vault, dusting ancient tomes.

It was nothing like he'd imagined a wizard's apprenticeship to be. It was as if Lorroakan would rather do anything else than teach him the ways of the weave. And on the rare occasions he did, the mage seemed more interested in flaunting his own power than passing it on.

But Rolan still found merit in staying at the Ramazith's Tower, where the access to knowledge seemed limitless. The tiefling seized every free moment to read rare manuscripts and refine his craft. Even in this short period of time, the arcane energy of the Ramazith's Tower did wonders for his magic skills. Small mercies, Rolan thought, reflecting on everything that had happened since he first stepped foot into Sorcerous Sundries.

He started mindlessly leafing back and forth through the diary, his golden eyes landing on old entries.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

August 3rd I got to see Dammon today. His forge is mercifully close to the Sorcerous Sundries. I can visit briefly when I'm out fetching Baldur's Mouth for Master Lorroakan. Impressively enough, Lakrissa found the underground passage between Rivington and the Lower City. She, Dammon, and Alfira crossed the very day I sent my letter. Dammon says Lakrissa managed to secure a job as a bar maiden at the Elfsong Tavern, and Alfira stays with her. Should I have a day off in the future, it might be delightful to visit them with Cal and Lia.

August 14th Lorroakan ordered Miklaur and me to double the number of traps at the Vault. He grows more paranoid by the day. Not good.

August 8th Another mutilated corpse was found, now near the Grey Harbor. Customers whisper it was a refugee, too. I must write to Cal. They need to stay off the streets after dark.

August 16th I am still unable to master counterspell. Lorroakan muses that it is due to my lack of strong will. Bloody bastard. What would he know of will? He teaches me nothing but evasive tricks. I doubt it's a coincidence. I must endure. Or he'll taste the strength of my will on his own foul bones.

August 4th Master Lorroakan is a braggart and a hypocrite, but he has what I need: resources. Knowledge. The ability to become who I truly am.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rolan's gaze lingered on the August 4th entry. It was short - but it carried so much between the lines.

Those words etched into the parchment were for self-assurance. His quiet prayer for endurance.

His golden eyes slipped shut as memories of that day cast their shadow over him once more.

+++

He was summoned to the top floor of Ramazith's Tower that afternoon - nothing unusual in itself. In this short three-day span, Lorroakan developed quite a habit of calling upon Rolan at the most arbitrary hours. Later, he wouldn't hesitate to summon his apprentice even after midnight. To accomplish that, the magus weaved a simple yet effective spell: should he only wish for it, Lorroakan's voice would ring in the tiefling's mind, insisting, "To me, now." The command could reach Rolan anywhere in the Tower or the Sorcerous Sundries and wouldn't fade away until he'd complied.

As Rolan stepped into the chamber, he found Lorroakan standing at the center, head bowed over an ancient tome. It was a familiar performance. The wizard liked to feign distraction, to pretend he hadn't noticed anyone's arrival. But Rolan could already feel Lorroakan's saucer eyes following him across the room.

"Master Lorroakan," the apprentice bowed.

"Come closer, boy," he leisurely waved his hand, "I have something to show you."

No questions asked, Rolan strode towards his mentor. As he neared the center of the room, he felt a surge of weave stirred near the floor just ahead, brushing against his senses with an odd, defensive hum. The energy seemed to shift here, carrying a defensive aura. It was quite unusual.

Still pretending to read, Lorroakan urged, "How long do you intend to keep me waiting?"

"Master," Rolan hesitated, "Did you cast something recently?" his eyes drifted briefly towards the area of interest.

The wizard tsked, "Let's leave ignorant questions for later, shall we? I need you to come here. Now."

The tiefling took a couple more steps, but his gut feeling kept on persisting that something was very wrong. He stopped again, meters away from the place where a bizarre surge of invisible energy accumulated. Rolan would have to cross it to get to Lorroakan. His golden eyes flickered at his master. Surely, he was testing his apprentice somehow.

The tiefling took a deep breath and quickly waved his tale above the area. Seconds later, the floor exploded with bursts of ice and frost. Rolan barely managed to flick his tail away, remaining unharmed by the masterfully hidden glyph of warding spell. A smirk adorned his face - it was a test, and he passed.

Yet, Lorroakan was far from pleased. As he observed the scene, his lips shrank into a thin, pale line, "What do you think you're doing?!" he screamed.

Confused, Rolan muttered, "Uh… disarming the glyph. As you would - well, as I thought you'd expect me to?"

"You presumed wrong, you imbecile!" the wizard rushed to the tiefling, clearing the weave residue as he moved, "I ordered you to come to me, not to stand around waving your tail like a damned performer!

As the realization dawned on Rolan, his mouth went dry, "You wanted me to step onto it?" he asked slowly, trying to hide disbelief.

"It's an empowered spell," Lorroakan lifted his hands into the air, "How else do you expect me to see its effects on a living subject?!"

The tiefling remained speechless. Words he wished to utter would escalate the situation beyond repair. What's more, Rolan still struggled to understand if Lorroakan's words carried any hidden meaning. Perhaps the magus was just in a foul mood?

"I think, he began, "there are less harmful ways we can test..."

A thwack.

A dull, sickening crack against the left side of his face stole Rolan's breath.

Lorroakan's staff had struck without warning - clean, brutal, and precise. The force of it drove Rolan to his knees.

At first, Rolan thought he went deaf, hearing only the muffle of white noise. The sound of blood dripping against the cold stone finally returned him to reality. His nose and upper lip were dosed in burning pain, the smell of metal brought upon nausea. His limbs buzzed with a sickly cold as if his own body was punishing him for not reacting faster.

His fingers curled against the ground, and he stared at them - at Nimriel's ring, now streaked with crimson. Blood smeared across the band, like a mark of the tiefling's humiliation. He hurried to clean it away with his thumb as if doing so would erase his shame.

And when it didn't, the tiefling looked up, meeting Lorroakan's smug glare.

"I summoned you here not to think but to do as I say," he murmured, his voice drenched in amusement.

"Why...?" was all Rolan could master, unsure if he addressed Lorroakan himself or the cruel twist of fate that had brought him here.

"Why?" the master of Ramazith's Tower repeated mockingly, "Boy, don't you realize I went soft on you for such insolence?" he shrugged, inspecting the tip of his staff, checking if it was damaged in any way, "You don't quite understand your place in this world. I've given you one in a million chance, and you choose to disobey me at the first sign of difficulty? Quite pathetic."

Lorroakan lowered his staff towards the tiefling, making the latter flinch, "Grab it and get up," he commanded.

Rolan remained motionless. He stared at the man's face, studying every twisted crease, every gleam of sadism in his eyes. He knew. This would happen again.

The need for retaliation surged through him - raw, white-hot fury screaming for release. But reason followed close behind.

If he had acted out now, his journey here, years of writing letters and searching for a mentor, would have been in vain.

If there ever was a time to swallow my pride, it is now.

Ignoring the cautious protests in his chest, Rolan finally reached out and grabbed the staff, getting up on his feet.

"I misunderstood," he mumbled, jaw clenched, each word dragged like iron across his teeth.

+++

The memory gripped Rolan like a vice, yanking him from the air. His levitation faltered, and he dropped back into the chair with a jarring thud, eyes snapping open.

Unwittingly, Rolan brought his hand to his lips and nose, feeling a phantom pain of that hit. His lower lip was cracked - a consequence of another recent beating by Lorroakan. Rolan's "crime"? Forgetting to note one of the ingredients they'd received from the Underdark.

Maddened by the sensation of swelled, raptured skin, the tiefling swiftly got up, knocking the chair over with a loud crack.

Rolan stormed to the standing mirror in the corner. The tiefling's reflection looked even more miserable to him than it did yesterday. His amber eyes were sunken deep, their color amplified by the coal-black rings beneath them. His cheeks, jaw, and nose now always carried burgundy bruises. Lorroakan exclusively battered him with his staff as though even a short contact with the tiefling's skin might infect him.

The cut on his lip was now bleeding - an unfortunate consequence, as Rolan developed a habit of biting on it when distressed.

He sighed, thinking how merciful it was that Cal and Lia didn't see him like this. Lorroakan forbade the tiefling from inviting his siblings to the Sundries or the Tower, citing that they would serve as a distraction to his apprentice's "studies." Rolan knew it to be a blatant lie, but he didn't mind Lorroakan's decision as much. If his siblings discovered what his apprenticeship truly entailed, they wouldn't hesitate to drag him out of Ramazith's Tower themselves. And the wizard couldn't afford that to happen. Lorroakan paid him on the daily - undoubtedly, another leverage above the tiefling's head, his instrument of control, his disproportionate retribution for cruelty. But gold is gold, and without it, Lia, Cal, and he would be tossed out of the city, thrown into the wilderness again with little to no means of survival.

And so, he chose to protect his siblings' peace, lying to them in letters. Rolan wove excuses about long hours and difficult studies, telling them it wasn't a good time to meet and that their visits would only distract him.

Minutes passed as he stood motionless, glassy stare eviscerating the mirror. His thoughts drifted to the memory of Moonrise Towers when he plunged a dagger again and again into a cultist's flesh. Only in place of an absolutist, he imagined Lorroakan instead. Replaying the image over and over in his mind finally put a crooked smile on Rolan's face. He was ready for another of his daily rituals.

The tiefling feigned an unbothered look, eyes still on his reflection, "What, this?" he gestured vaguely at his bruised face, "How silly of me. The stairs at the Sorcerous Sundries are very twisted. I simply missed a step," he offered his clone in the mirror a clumsy smile.

Rolan repeated his well-rehearsed lies over and over, coming up with variations just in case.

Still, his reflection wasn't convinced. It finally snapped, twisting its lips into a demented grin, "Is it everything you ever dreamed of?" the creature that looked like Rolan sneered, eyes gleaming with mockery, "Revel in your misery, you sorry excuse of a wasted flesh bag."

"Shut your mouth," the tiefling could only mumble in response, shielding his face with his palms from the despised reflection.

It was enough practice for today. Stepping aside from the mirror, Rolan returned to his desk, getting the chair off the ground. Exhausted, he sank back into it, limbs heavy, mind humming with fatigue. The tiefling had no intentions of writing anything else or studying, for that matter.

Instead, his hand reached for a small, worn book tucked in the top-right corner of the desk. It was The Way of the Wanderer, gifted to him by the little Ide. Surprisingly, the book became one of the few joys Rolan blissfully experienced while staying at Ramazith's Tower. Reading it, the tiefling could pretend that he himself was the titular traveler - wandering lands unknown, free from masters, burdens, and bruises.

From Bex's last letter, he knew that Mirkon was still in Rivington, likely getting into trouble as usual, racing through alleyways with untied boots and too much laughter. But Ide and Umi… they had vanished into the night a week ago. A day later, the remaining tieflings received a note without the return address, saying Mol had found them and that they had now stayed together. There was no indication of their whereabouts, as the children were probably afraid to be discovered and scolded for running off. Mol was alive, at least, a small relief.

Still keeping the children in his thoughts, Rolan opened the book at the part he'd marked - one that echoed in his mind more often than he cared to admit. It read:

Home isn't home unless you're far from home. That love isn't love unless it unleashes you. That the sky is infinitely big as long as you can always see it.

There they were, the three integral things Rolan desperately lacked at the moment.

A sky - his freedom from Lorroakan's torment.

A home - where he could be living happily with Cal and Lia.

And...

Love. Unleashed.

Would he ever be able to unleash it? To speak aloud the truth that haunted his sleep, to face the one who now lived in the quiet corners of his dreams? Of that, he doubted the most.

A fresh wave of longing rose in him - gentler than grief, but far more enduring. He closed the book slowly, fingers brushing the page one last time before setting it aside.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Rolan reached for the piece of parchment he hid, which was locked in the desk drawer.

The tiefling had to reread it every night since he got it. Just to make sure it was real. Her letter.

[sacrosanctitty]

I think its a little insane how if you're critical of anders his Fans will jump you with paragraphs of how he wasn't wrong for what he did at the end of act three.

which I can agree to an extant. I hated that he lied to hawke, manipulating them to be complacent in murder without their consent and don't like how many bystanders (because you cant convince me everyone in there was just chantry workers) got killed in the cross fire, but I agree that something drastic needed to happen to get the chantry's attention.

(do i think that was what it had to be? no, also there's a lot to be said about a white man blowing up a religious building and all of those horrible real life connotations but that's not what im posting about and also many muslim fans have already said it better and smarter than me)

thats not why I'm critical of anders.

Anders as a character in DA2 is a racist hypocrite, who will treat you like shit if you reject his advances and never gives others the same grace he expects of them. The comments he makes to Merrill that are condescending to her at best and malicious and gross to all dalish at worst are just the tip of the iceberg. Even removing blood magic from the conversation he's a complete and utter ass towards her, I don't think its a coincidence that the two characters he treats the worst are the two elves of the party.

and as for fenris theres and endless list of complaints I have for how anders treats him, more often than not, unprovoked. You can say fenris is just as bad, that the two are equally in the wrong that Fenris treats him terribly just for being a mage, then what about fenris treats Bethany and Hawke?

Then theres the fact Anders approves if you give Fenris back to his former slave master in a moment of complete betrayal, and many people try to argue that Anders would never and its completely out of character but is it? throughout the entire game Anders does nothing but dehumanize fenris, calling him nothing more than a wild animal, comparing him to a dog on several occasions, asks him why he never killed himself, and so on and so forth. Anders can be a piece of shit a lot of the time and that has nothing to do with how act 3 ends, and thats okay, im not saying you have to dislike him or stop loving him.

What i am saying is that hes deeply flawed and I need a lot of you to understand that really quickly and not be an asshole when people dislike him for those things

[rikas-things]

Malleus' Dorm SSR vignette gave me stomach pain.

I'm serious.

*Ahem*. Help, everyone I mean hello. Hello, everyone . Welcome to my blog thingy.

I just wanna start off saying this is probably the first time I've actually felt this strongly about a vignette of all things. Irrationally so. I've been so bothered about it that it's made it hard for me to sleep. Yes. I swear I'm not joking. 🫩

I went to bed at like 2 in the morning last night from thinking about it. Because, well, the way it's structured is just...so bizarre?

Um, let me put in some ground work first. Most vignettes are just random tidbits or lore of a character that while it won't really impact a story, could give you better insight and even better understand how a character views things in different settings.

And what's special about a vignette compared to an event story, there's no rush for the character to have their moment, they don't have to fight over the spotlight to get a funny or cute or interesting moment.

Usually.

What's especially special about an SSR vignette is that it has three acts as opposed to just one or two, so that you can get a more fleshed out story to better immerse yourself with your favorite character.

Again, usually.

This did not happen in Malleus' Dorm SSR vignette. What happened was-

🧐

Why isn't he the first person to pop up in his own vignette??

Why would they make the card centering around-no, no, Rika. You must endure. Maybe there's an interesting point that comes after this.

Part Two

Okay, so we FINALLY get in Diasomnia Dorm and Lilia and Malleus talk about Malleus' reason for being unable to attend the dorm meetings, which, in all seriousness, develop more questions than answers.

1) If Malleus is THIS sheltered, what measures did Lilia try to enact to combat this once he got out of Briar Valley?

2) If Malleus' phone (his only means of communication apparently) was constantly getting damaged that easily, why didn't Lilia try and talk with the Headmage about creating an earpiece specifically designed for him?

3) If Malleus' absence was this much of an issue, why didn't the Headmage do something about it already?

Ig you could say that the last part was simply that the Headmage didn't feel like it and/or didn't think it was SO important that one of the strongest mages in existence to attend a meeting-or that Malleus somehow has so little presence that he simply forgot Malleus altogether (he tends to do the latter a lot, which is very 🤔)

....

....What?

Why did Lilia say this?

And why wasn't that very comment acknowledged by Malleus, or hell, even Lilia (not like, in the moment, I mean like, at all, like at least as an acknowledgement of his own behavior in how it affected Malleus)

...More on acknowledgement of lines later.

I'm sorry but I'm a little worried about just how much he lashes out at Malleus here?? It also feels a little hypocritical that Lilia comments about Malleus "breaking a phone every time he gets mad" when Lilia LITERALLY GAVE IT TO HIM AFTER THEY JUST DISCUSSED MALLEUS' PENCHANT FOR BREAKING THINGS ON ACCIDENT??

*Ahem*

And then it FINALLY gives us something vaguely resembling lore through Malleus talking about how humans fear "creatures of the night", referring to the nocturnal fae.

And then it starts to get to something interesting!!

[sulky-valkyrie]

its me im back again with a prompt for whenever you don't have something to write AHAHAHA. Five times Character A left Character B behind, plus one time they went back for them - for fenders maybe?? :O

Better late than never, right? I'm so sorry this took me over a year to get to and I hope you're doing well 💜💜💜

for @dadrunkwriting and screenshot snagged from this lovely Fenders video

~1~

“Well that was…interesting,” Anders muttered as the arcane horror collapsed.

Fenris looked somewhere between haunted and furious.  “Gone.”

Hawke shrugged and picked at her teeth.  “So we keep looking.”

“No, he’s not here.”  He spun in a slow circle.  “Take whatever you want.  As payment.  I’ll… I need some air.”

Hawke filled her bag and made for the door almost immediately, but Anders lingered, running his fingers over the books.  By the time he made it outside, the elf was gone.  

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“Argument about my sister.  And you.” Hawke offered a fierce grin.  “Don’t worry about it.”

~2~

The air inside the Hanged Man was full of stale beer and Anders was losing at Diamondback.

“Another hand?”  Varric started dealing.  

Anders sighed.  Hawke was covering his bets anyway.  

“We should move on.”  Fenris was at the door, strapping his sword back on.  “The gangs will begin patrolling in another hour.”

Was Fenris suggesting they leave together?  Impossible.  Still, Anders found himself standing up anyway.

Anders paused to retie his laces once they made it outside.  “Who's walking who home?”

He looked up when Fenris didn't answer, only to see him already halfway up the stairs to Hightown.

Impossible.

~3~

Hadrianna's corpse fell to the floor.  Fenris stared at it for a few moments, then muttered something under his breath.

“Do you need – I mean, are you okay?”  Anders reached for him worriedly.  They'd started to reach a common ground in the last few months, but it felt like that was crumbling to dust under his feet.

Fenris reared back.  “Do not, mage.”  

Anders failed to hide his wince, but tried again.  “No magic, just let me –”

“No!” he snarled as his hands glowed blue.  “There will always be magic with you, and…” he turned away.  “I need to go.”

~4~

The clinic was empty, for once.  Anders barred the door and sat in the corner, staring at the blood on his hands.  I almost killed her.

Fenris phased through the wall, sword in hand.  “Your demon is out of control.”

Anders shook his head.  “It's not Justice’s fault.”

“No?” Fenris snapped.  “Is there another one in there?”

“It was me, Fenris,” he insisted.  “My fury.  Won't happen again.” I hope.

“See to it, or I'll end this.  Permanently.”  With that, Fenris walked out.

Anders sighed.  Fenris was right.  All Anders could hope for was a clean end when it came.

~5~

Anders woke with a start, clutching at his chest, where the gaping hole should be.  Should be, but wasn’t.  We were in the Fade and… oh.  He glared at Fenris in the cot next to him.  You hypocritical bastard.  

Fenris stirred with a groan and pawed at his throat.  He sat up and felt his skin, obviously looking for injuries.  “Hawke killed me,” he mumbled.  He turned to meet Anders’ eyes, horrified.  “I killed you.”  

“Whose demon is out of control now?” Anders asked snidely.

“Fasta Vass, I –” Fenris covered his mouth and ran for the exit.

Serves you right.

6

Fenris’ gauntlets creaked as he balled his hands into fists while Varania left.  “To think my sister…” 

Hawke put a hand on his shoulder.  “But you're free now, right?  Both of you?”

“You heard her.  I wanted these,” he growled.  “I did this to myself, and to her.  Where's the freedom in that?”  He shook his head.  “Let's go.”

“That's it?” Hawke asked incredulously.  “We're in a bar.  No drinks?  No celebration?”

Fenris wiped Danarius’ blood onto his leggings.  “Perhaps another time.  For the moment, I need to get out of here.”

Hawke slung her bow back over her shoulder.  “I'll walk you.”

Varruc stayed behind to organize cleaning up while Anders rolled up his sleeves to deal with customers who'd been caught in the crossfire.  Their injuries were remarkably minor, no doubt thanks to well-honed instincts to duck and cover during the many late-night brawls.  By the time he was done, the bodies were gone, and a bowl of mystery stew had appeared in his hands.

After he ate, he went down to the clinic.  It was past sundown, and no one was waiting for the Darktown Healer to cure their ills, so he didn't bother lighting the lantern before going inside.  On the surface, Danarius had been everything Anders used to admire, and seeing all that money and power used solely for personal gain was sickening.  He hung up his coat and washed the blood and dirt from his hands, but it couldn't cleanse the lingering feeling of wrongness in the pit of his stomach.  I should go apologize.  But for what?  His ignorance?  His insistence that mages were people?  

The door creaked open slowly, as though the newcomer was nervous.  It wasn’t uncommon for a desperate soul to look for Anders even when the lantern was out, so he schooled his expression into one of serene competence and turned around.  “What seems to be the – Fenris?”

His grudging companion for more than half a decade didn’t answer.  He swayed on his feet slightly, then took a long pull from the bottle in his hand.

Guess he celebrated with Hawke alone.  It was a treacherous thought, full of bitterness and jealousy, and wholly unreasonable.  Why wouldn't they be close?  Both of their lives had been shaped by magic, and in some of the worst ways possible.  Of course they'd find solace in each other's company.  Isabela had been betting on it for years.

“I once said,” Fenris began haltingly, “that you'd be happy in Tevinter.”

It was like a punch to the gut.  “And I agreed with you,” he admitted.  “But –”

“But I was wrong.”  He took another swig of wine, peered at the bottle owlishly, then tossed it onto a nearby cot.  “You are nothing like a magister.”  The room lit up with blue, and suddenly Fenris was in front of him, fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him close.  “They are a disease, a plague on Thedas, but you… you're a cure.  Seven years of, of this –” he swept his arm out, gesturing at the clinic “– of wading through piss and vomit and mortal misery and no small number of insults, yet you still care.  About them.”  He tilted his head up in an invitation.  “About me.”

A better man would’ve asked if he was drunk.  A better man would've reassured him that of course he cared then suggested he should get some rest.  Anders was not a better man.  All the absurd fantasies he'd asked Justice to lock away lest they drive him to distraction broke free as he leaned forward to press their foreheads together and slip an arm around his waist.  “I always have,” he murmured.  “I still do.”

Their lips met, and Fenris' hand slid into his hair.  “You're a man of action, mage,” he chuckled softly.  “Prove it.”

[fah-ren-heit]

ohhhh BABY i’ve missed act 2-3 fenris and anders interactions so much. just absolute pure cunts to each other and it does not get better even once. fenris oh-so-smugly reminding anders that anders claimed he could “control it”. the ever-iconic “did you ever think about killing yourself?”. anders, audibly seething, saying that fenris can’t be that much of an idiot while they’re at each other’s throats in meredith’s office. anders asking if hawke’s sure about fenris and fenris swiftly and justifiably dragging him for being a hypocrite. alternatively fenris full-on threatening to kill anders if he doesn’t treat hawke right. anders trying to argue that meredith is insane and fenris clapping back with “mages in glass houses shouldn’t throw fireballs”. anders going so all magisters do that slavery and blood magic stuff, do they? and fenris pointedly replying that it’s only the ones who aren’t whiny little bitches, actually. god the boys are FIGHTIIIIINNNGGGG.

[chanafehs]

im in love with your hawke and the way you stylize her 😭 can i ask abt hasna's (was that her name?) decisions and relationship with the cast, as a friend/lover/rival and big sis :3 da2 is very companion/approval-disapproval heavy game so i got really curious about that. Because learning these makes you learn about the character

(i hope you'd feel safe answering this tho because from what I've seen you don't mind having thoughts straying from fandom's most popular takes, and DA ain't really the best fandom, but we're in veilguard era rn so who cares lol)

Thank you!! Hasna is my little morally dubious almost 7ft tall lesbian blood mage. She has good intentions at her core and is very self-sacrificing but her execution is extremely poor. I'll put it under the read-more because this is just a block of text

I usually don't have the chance to flesh her out a lot because most of my brain rot fixates on Asma but she is very special to me. As for relationships, Hasna is either an opposites attract or is just looking for validation for her beliefs. She has a lot in common with characters like Sebastian and Fenris - I don't know if I ever stated it before but Hasna is a devout Andrastian - and she has very critical views of her fellow mages, who she believes she is above.

Magic cannot be made safe, so it must be controlled, and she represents that control: She doesn't falter; she is a perfectionist, a believer, a patron of the templar order, and Kirkwall's savior. In her own way, her body and mind are her circle.

It's why she is constantly at odds with Anders, who represents everything her personal ideology is against. He is the embodiment of a mage's lack of control and the exact idea that Hasna has spent her life fighting against, which makes it all the more infuriating to her when she sees what he does to the Chantry in the final act of the game. She spent ten years of her life proving to others that Mages can control their magic and fit into society just as she had for some guy from the sewers to ruin it in ten seconds.

I think my favorite aspect about her is that she is a hypocrite and projects a lot of her insecurities on others, especially when it comes to control. She easily resorts to blood magic because she doesn't think she is strong enough - could always be stronger - in battle, but will criticize other mages resorting to it out of fear. Her reasonings are righteous, theirs are weak, etc etc.

I think she has a really interesting relationship with Isabela because while their views on life are completely different, Hasna views Isabela as almost what she wishes she could be. She wishes Isabela's life was her life. Uncaring, free, laidback, just nothing but the ocean ahead of you - Hasna lives almost vicariously through her and experiences Isabela's happiness as if it were her own. Isabela is the only one who knows about her blood magic because she's the only one who wouldn't hold it against her, Merrill would point out her hypocrisy and Varric would view her differently, Isabela just accepts it. Hasna is the one who actually pushes Carver to join the Templar order in the beginning, as she believes it is a way she can still protect and watch over him while being entrenched in Templar politics.

Thats a brief Hasna summary! definitely not the standard Hawke lmaooo I used to care about the Dragon Age fandom takes but I cannot do it anymore bc 1) this fandom is extremely preformative and values pixel wizard discourse over everything 2) it is very boring to have the same perfect angel characters three times in a row I love giving them flaws and making them more like real complex people

Thank you!

[blackjackkent]

One of the challenges in Rakha's Act 3 playthrough continues to be figuring out what order she would do things in, which is how we come to a decision point at this unassuming little intersection.

From where she is currently, the left turn here is the correct path to head on towards the Counting House, which is Rakha's ostensible immediate destination. However, on her right is... this:

Sorcerous Sundries. And, realistically, there's no way Rakha doesn't notice it. She is acutely attuned to the Weave, after all, and this is the biggest collection of magical artifacts and tones in the city. This building has probably been showing up like a beacon to her from several blocks away.

So, without saying anything, she pivots off the path southward and starts heading up into the square, where bursts of magic are going off at regular intervals from the mages performing demonstrations there. And she's so distracted by this wondershow that she nearly plows straight into the woman charging at her from the opposite direction.

"Godsdamned hypocrite!"

(A/N: Fun! Hector didn't have Florrick out of prison yet at this point, so this is another new angle for me. :D )

There is no sign now of the apathy that Florrick displayed when they found her in prison. Instead, her eyes are alight with fiery rage - directed not at Rakha, but at Wyll.

"The Blade of Frontiers - all pomp and empty oaths!" she snaps. "The Sword Coast's most dashing fraud! I trusted you! I *believed* in you!"

Wyll flinches back from the harshness of the words, his eyes widening. "Florrick - what are you on about?" he stammers, bewildered. "What is this?"

"Lady Mizora told me everything," Florrick growls. "How you slaughtered your own father. How you crave his power." Her fists clench, and Rakha can see the slow winding up of magical energy around her fingers. "You mean to make the city bow to you and you alone!"

Her voice is rising with fury, and Wyll sinks back under it as if under a torrent of physical blows.

"That meddling *ghoul*," he cries, and Rakha can hear the anguish - and anger - in his voice. "Florrick, I--"

"Save it," Florrick says, bitter and cold. "My duty is to Baldur's Gate - and it holds no place for Ravengard's treacherous spawn."

She lifts her hand, the flame starting to lick around her palm. Her companions - a mage and a man in Fist armor - both draw their weapons as well, their eyes hard.

Immediately Rakha is on her guard. Kill, growls the beast, awake and snarling at once. Drown her in the fountain with her staff shoved up her ass. Let her corpse decorate the city she loves so. Let the guards come, and let us burn this open place to the ground with all these innocents inside it. Kill, and kill, and kill, and kill...

Her breath drags in a low groan in her throat as she struggles the violent instinct down with every bit of her strength.

(A/N: This one's a bit challenging, in that the only dialogue option that is immediately Rakha-ish is "Attack us, then. Let's see who's left standing," which might be an interesting conversational line if Florrick was less of a badass, but as it is, she says "bet" and we're immediately tossed into a fight. I was a little worried about how I was going to justify any OTHER tack, but then I realized that this is a rare case of the history check we have here (one Hector also passed) actually making sense for Rakha despite her Durge history.)

Part of her, it's true, would happily kill Florrick for the pain she is causing Wyll at present - but Rakha also knows perfectly well that Wyll would not stand for it. She already could be blamed, if he wished, for the death of his father; she can't bear to have him blame her for Florrick's as well - not to mention for all the innocents in this square who would no doubt be caught in the crossfire.

Mizora - it's Mizora that she needs to kill. Mizora has lied to Florrick, painted Wyll as a monster to one of the people he cares about. But Mizora is untouchable, out of reach, protected by magical defenses Rakha has not yet learned how to break.

One day-- she thinks, with the slow-burn rage that is her own and not the beast's, one day I will strip her bare of any protection, and then I will kill her with my bare hands. And for once I will find no shame in taking pleasure in it.

Unfortunately, the situation at hand is far more pressing. Florrick is certainly ready to strike the first blow if Rakha does not - and Rakha does not trust her own ability to continue to hold back once attacked. But what else can she do, other than fight, in this moment? Florrick is strong-willed and powerful; Rakha has seen it in the past, and even admired it. If she has decided Wyll is a monster, a threat, then she will see that threat ended.

But she is like Wyll - she cares about the city's future more than anything else. If Rakha is to have any hope of holding both herself and the Counselor back, she must find a way to prove that attacking Wyll is a greater danger to Baldur's Gate than not doing so.

[HISTORY] A relevant thread of knowledge pokes at your mind. Explore it.

Narrator: You remember the stories of Elturel's fall. The city was dragged into the Hells at Zariel's behest - and Ravengard along with it.

(A/N: This is honestly kind of a weird reach for the conversation in the general run of things but it does kind of fit with Rakha's habit of extrapolation and sticking facts together. XD )

That's it - the key. The stories Zevlor told them of Elturel, all the way back in the Grove, the line that connects Mizora to Ravengard as an enemy.

"Zariel's stunt destroyed countless lives," she points out curtly. Her voice rasps with the effort she is putting into keeping herself under control. "Mizora is her minion. You can't trust her."

"Florrick... I am my father's son," Wyll says quietly. He's recovered himself somewhat and looks at her earnestly, steadily - but that deep pain still wrenches at every feature of his face. "You know me. Will you really trust the word of a devil over mine?" He swallows. "I swear I did everything I could to save him. I swear it... by all I hold dear..."

Rakha wonders if he truly believes that. There was, after all, a path to saving Ravengard - at the cost of Wyll's soul. She's sure he would have taken it if she hadn't stopped him.

Florrick studies him for a long, strained moment. Then she nods abruptly and sheathes her staff. "At ease," she mutters to her companions, who relax as well, lowering their weapons. "By the living gods... I believe you," she says - but she still looks deeply troubled.

"What darkness has fallen upon us," she murmurs with a sigh, rubbing her fingertips against her forehead. Then she squares her shoulders with the air of a woman coming to some momentous decision.

"Wyll, there's something you must know," she says, meeting Wyll's eyes with grave intensity. "I should've told you sooner, but I'd hoped somehow your father would return to us. He knew about the Absolute. I thought little of it at first - but he realized the danger before anyone else did. He understood that if the cult were successful in raising an army, Baldur's Gate would be doomed."

She draws a slow breath and then lets it out heavily. "Before the Absolutists abducted him, he told me that should he fall, I must seek you out and give you this message. Your father trained you in the ways of the great champions. You are to use those lessons to wake the wyrm under the city. He is oathbound to answer your call and come to our aid."

Rakha blinks. "A wyrm?" she asks, before she can stop herself from voicing her puzzlement. She knows the word, as she has recognized various isolated words in the course of her travels, without knowing where the knowledge came from - but in this case, it's so jarring a meaning that she's almost certain she must have misunderstood. "Are you saying there's a dragon living under the city?"

(A/N: Larian missed out on comedic potential here for having the PC, especially a Durge PC, think she meant "worm." But we can't have everything.)

Florrick nods. "A bronze dragon, yes. He sleeps beneath us even now, awaiting a hero to rouse him. The wyrm goes by many names. Ansur. The Waiting Storm. The Heart of the Gate." She watches Wyll's expression, seeing him nod slowly in recognition. "He promised Balduran he'd protect the city if ever its existence was threatened - but just the once. Since then, the city faced countless threats, but the Baldurians overcame them all. There was never any need to call upon the wyrm."

Her mouth draws into a tight line. "But this time, things are different. This is the greatest threat Baldur's Gate ever faced. Your father was right; we need Ansur's help. With him gone, the wyrm's awakening now falls to you."

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a tattered, use-worn book, which she holds out in Wyll's direction. "The duke gave me this - 'The Legend of Ansur.' An ancient epic, ill-remembered, dismissed as a mere tale. Let it set the path before you," she says soberly.

Rakha watches this exchange warily. The beast's immediate fury has subsided, though part of her attention is still consumed by keeping hold of it. "Wyll?" she asks, low enough for only his ears. "What do you make of this?"

Wyll's eyes have narrowed with sudden resolution. Perhaps he has heard these tales of the wyrm already, for he does not seem nearly as thrown as Rakha is by this new discovery. Instead, he seems suddenly energized, perhaps seeing a glimmer of his father's lingering presence in this mission left behind for him.

"Baldur's Gate stands on the brink of the abyss," he says, and his voice trembles almost imperceptibly as he accepts the book from Florrick. "Let's awaken the wyrm and take back the city."

Florrick nods crisply. Whatever doubts she held about Wyll, she seems to have set them aside. "Ravengard's blood courses through your veins," she says firmly. "Your father would be proud." Her eyes flick to Rakha and she nods with cool respect. "I will go and assemble any allies I can find. When the battle horns call, we'll stand ready."

She turns to face Wyll fully and offers him a curt salute. "Unleash the wyrm, Wyll. Let his tempest swallow the Absolute and its allies. Good luck!"

[whispersleo]

For the first time asks: first make-up after a fight? <3 (Pick any pairing you like!)

Thanks for the question, but it made me realize that the majority of my ships never fight because my OCs are hypocrites who prefer not to say anything and then behave like shit (clearly very healthy relationships)

anyways here is Belasko and Illario after Illario tried to kill him <3 their first fight so first make-up! chapter 12 of Arsonist's lullaby

[...]

Belasko gave him three different potions, ensuring that all his wounds would heal and any lingering pain would fade. None were particularly strong, just enough to make Illario feel better. He set the empty vials on the tray and pushed them aside near his discarded staff before kneeling in front of Illario again. Gently, he wiped away the lingering tears from Illario’s face. The man closed his eyes, feeling the roughness of Belasko’s scarred hands against his skin.

"Why are you here?" Illario asked again, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Well, someone decided to sleep with a blood mage," Belasko murmured, his fingers still tracing over Illario’s bruises as they slowly faded. "Instead of asking the blood mage he was already sleeping with to do the job."

Illario pressed his lips together but didn’t pull away from his touch.

"Belasko, I—"

"Did you fear Lucanis would kill me, Illario?" Belasko asked softly, tilting his chin up so he couldn’t look away. "Look at me. Tell me that’s why."

Illario’s gaze lingered on the floor before slowly, reluctantly, meeting those bright, burning orange eyes. He gave a slow nod, his expression utterly defeated.

"Yes," he whispered. "Yes. Lucanis would kill you in an instant. I thought the Venatori had a better chance against him—at least in numbers."

Belasko exhaled.

"Mi niño bonito," he murmured, his brows drawing together. "I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry that you couldn’t trust me. If I had known, that night, I would’ve poisoned Lucanis’ food—something slow, something that would let him die in his own bed hours later." He shrugged. "It would’ve been cleaner than this mess."

"Yeah," Illario sighed. "It would have."

"Were you planning to kill me at the Opera?" Belasko asked, almost idly.

"Maybe," Illario lied. Then, he inhaled deeply and forced himself to tell the truth. "Yes. Yes, I considered it—if only for a moment."

[...]

The elf lifted his face again, pressing their foreheads together. "Breathe, mi niño bonito," Belasko whispered. "I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Not for now. We’re in this together. I’m not going to leave you alone in your mess, and I’ll make sure to pull you out of it, Illario."

"Belasko… how can you be so fucking pathetic…?" Illario murmured, his lips curving into a broken smile. The blond smiled back, studying every inch of his face before kissing him.

(this was absolutely not going to include a drawing but I have the screen on so might as well just indulge myself)

[wanderlustknightofmagic]

💞 ♾️✨🔍

💞 - Five things my character likes about your character. //Awwww combo breaker XD 1. How kind Noelle is despite the cruelty thrown her way, Rain often notes that is what he likes or loves about people because of how easy it is to be mean. 2. How she teaches rather than lectures or corrects. There is a difference and he sees and appreciates it. 3. How competitive she is, but in a silly way. Their little games are a highlight of any day when they occur. 4. How stubborn she is when it comes to paying back someone. He wishes she would just be a good reciever, but that side of her is still charming. 5. Her sense of style. It's reserved but also her own. The little bits that make it more than Standard Mage (tm) just makes him smile and he has considered asking her to design an outfit for him.

♾️ - A random headcanon about our characters' relationship. //Combo breaker numba 2! There's is very much a sibling-like relationship. Maybe if she hadn't mentioned she fancied someone, there might have been some flame there, but he's also perfectly content with simply be a great friend to her and is happy to have her do the same for him.

✨ - One assumption my character has about your character. "Honestly, and this might be a little hypocritical coming from me, but I had a belief, early in our friendship, that you magically dyed your hair. It was so different from anything natural on my home. Even on Runeterra I thought it was a little odd."

🔍 - My character's first impression of your character. "Funny enough, that you were a very quiet person," He'd chuckle "Aside from your condition, you are very much on the low-key side of things and only after speaking to you quite a bit did that change."

[winchesternova-k]

31 Days of Dragon Age - Day 3

favourite dao companion

my favourite companion from origins is wynne!

she reminds me a lot of my ma and i’m ngl that’s the main reason she’s my fave. a lot of her beliefs and actions read to me as being based in trauma, both from her time in the circle (and what she witnessed there), and from before. i don’t agree with a lot of the conclusions she draws from those experiences, or the views she expresses (mainly about mage independence), but i think it’s a really interesting aspect of her character. she also clearly means well and wants to help as many people as she can, especially mages, and protect people with less power. tbh its the same reasons i find in vivienne, as well as anders on the opposite side, that make them compelling to me. i can see where they’re all coming from, and how they got there, for better or worse.

also the fear of the self and of accidentally harming people is catnip to me. i think a lot of mages, especially circle mages, in thedas have similar trauma and therefore writing and i really love it with all of them. with wynne in particular, the way she tries to pass on the ‘lessons’ she’s learned from her traumas is really interesting, especially when it’s more abstract like with a non-mage warden and the concept of power generally. the lessons she’s trying to pass on aren’t always healthy per se (trying to convince the warden to break it off with their love interest because any attachment could lead to the end of the world), but to me that’s compelling in itself. her affair and the birth of rhys/immediately having him taken away clearly fucked her up and i’m really hoping to see more of that explored in asunder (though given who the author was, i’m not holding me breath). also the spirit of faith/abomination stuff that she has to reconcile with the what she’s been taught, who she is, and her belief that she’s not a dangerous person is just a fascinating arc. i’m really looking forward to seeing how that could be contrasted with anders and justice (and how it differs or is similar to the friendship or rivalry dialogue). a full deconstruction would have been really interesting there too, especially if it included religion or chantry hierarchy, but what we got as it was always makes me think a lot.

i also get why all of that makes her seem preachy or hypocritical to some people. and she can be hypocritical! but i personally find that really interesting about her. i do genuinely like the contradictions of her life long beliefs being brought into direct contrast with something that she’s now living, and that she had to really look at herself and work through some stuff. unfortunately being mid character arc with no real end point is not an experience everyone will enjoy, especially if religious trauma is a sore point.

(i say this all completely genuinely btw. i Get why a lot of ppl have issues w her, i just wanted to explain completely that those problems are exactly why i like her, and exactly why i like vivienne. i also know the tone here could come across as like bitter or directed but it truly isn’t.)

i also thought the way she protected the younger circle mages, and the children in particular, is very sweet, and again, it reminded me a lot of my ma. her relationship with my canon warden actually ended up mirroring my relationship with my ma A LOT because of all this. idk i just find her very easy to love and it’s also so nice to see an older woman going on an quest to save the world. like she basically saw the warden, with the world on their shoulder, and said ‘is anyone else going to show love and care to that kid?’ and didn’t wait for an answer. and i really love her for that.

(also as an added bonus, her specialisation and starting spells really suit my play style!)

[express-archives]

Yk what, i was about to ask about something concerning Eir. So i might as well ask that question about Venti and Eir as well (i was hoping you would reveal about it at some point)

1. Is Eir aware of the Abyss Order?

2. Do they know about the Traveler’s twin sibling and have they met before?

3 What does Eir think about the Traveler and Paimon?

4. What is going on between Venti and Eir?

- 🐱 Anon

🐱 anon your oc questions singlehandedly keep me alive. thank you for your contributions <3 /lh

eir is aware of the abyss order! they don't particularly approve of their methods despite their own anger towards the seven, so they don't associate with the abyss order. they avoid it if possible. however, eir has been known to connect with abyss mages and hilichurls and other such creatures in the wild, away from prying eyes. they feel a deep connection to these beings.

yes! eir has met the abyss sibling before. i wouldn't say that they were friends but they were definitely friendly acquaintances, at the very least.

eir is neutral regarding them. if they ever needed their help for any reason, they would be more than happy to lend it, but eir is otherwise neutral.

hehe. venti shot eir and is the one responsible for their nerve injury. Yeah. his face is seared into their memory. all they were trying to do was flee, and he effectively disabled them for the rest of their cursed immortal life. eir believes him to be a hypocrite and a coward (i mean, a god of freedom who takes away that very thing from others? please), but they are also wise enough to understand. they hate him so very deeply but they also get it. it's complicated <3 it's "i hate you but i understand you. i want to blindly direct my fury at you but i know better than that. it makes me sick." there's no potential for reconciliation in this situation unfortunately. it will always just be one-sided rage at what he did (or perhaps at what he failed to do).

[veatomis]

HI BESTIE <3333 gimme 6, 11, 13 & 16 for the veilguard asks <3 and 2. for fun

love to be in a dragon age yapping era with you bestie <3

2. Which Dragon Age game is your favorite so far?

..... Inquisition alright. it's inquisition. I believe it's objectively the worst game of all three and yet... the concept of a forced chosen one, the entire business with the anchor, dorian pavus..... they speak to me in ways that are detrimental to my health <3

6. Do you have your Rook(s) planned out to any degree? If so, would you share some details or ideas you have?

Yes you already know a bit about this <3 The main things i have in mind are mage rook, gay guy adjacent, most likely city elf but depending on the options i could be convinced to go for yet another dalish protagonist, joint lucanis/davrin romancer and the thing i'm most conflicted about right now is their faction. Antivan crow would work so well with lucanis' whole thing + my idea of making rook some flavor of hispanic but being from the shadow dragons or the mourn watch looks really cool and i think would fit better a mage rook. We'll see what i end up going for.

11. What's one thing you'd really like to see in this next game?

I need so much from this game but tied for number 1 is solas being irrevocably a villain. he needs to be doing bad shit the entire game so that a potential path to redemption is extremely arduous for him AND i also need an inquisitor/solas confrontation i need it i need it i need it. i need arihs to wreck his shit i need arihs to be able to call him a hypocrite to his face i need solas to look like a kicked puppy because one of the closest people to him absolutely hates his guts and can't stand to be near him. i need everything they didn't give me in trespasser. i need arihs to discuss IN DETAIL how much the anchor and losing an arm fucked with him. i need solas to feel TRUE remorse for someone and something other than elvhenan. i need him to see the tangible ways in which his decisions have hurt people in THIS current time.

13. What's one thing you've seen confirmed so far that you're a fan of?

I'm already obsessed with the places we'll get to see, I'm going to have so much fun exploring the nevarran necropolis and minrathous and arlathan. I also love that we'll get to see two of the other evanuris, i just hope that they're not mindless beasts or villains like corypheus, if they end up casting doubts on solas' story and they are somewhat compassionate characters too I will love this game forever and ever.

16. What's one crack theory you subscribe to (yours or someone else's)?

This isn't necessarily dav related because it hasn't been confirmed if the other evanuris is June but this is me manifesting <3 In my heart of hearts i know June is actually a decent guy <3 he's the god we know the least about because in my mind he just didn't fuck that much with the rest of the evanuris and he did his own thing. i also know he and solas have crazy beef. i know they hate each other's guts i know it.

ask me things about veilguard <3