#and has to be reminded that not everyone is a grey warden now

[snurtle]

actually come to think of it

Did the origins gang have a decontamination regimen after dealing with darkspawn? Alistair and the Warden might be immune to the taint, but the rest of their entourage sure as hell is not.

I know they weren't traipsing into camp leaking who knows what kind of cursed bile/ichor everywhere. Surely. Surely they cover that in Grey Warden basic. ....

..

right.

right?

[stressedbisexualtm]

[< - LOTS OF WORDS - >]

trafficblr, hear me out on this:

We've all seen the idea that the life series are seasons, right? I normally see it like this: third life - winter, last life - spring, double life - summer, limited life - fall/autumn. But I think of it more like this: third life - fall, last life - winter, double life - spring, limited life - summer. Listen:

I think it would be more interesting (and true to the series) if third life was fall. The main reason people say third life is winter is of course because of the "RED WINTER IS COMING!" line, but the truth is, red winter was on its way. Red winter was coming, but first comes fall. People are more tight-knit in third life, always staying true to their real, solid, established alliance, and we see this all the way until the end of the series. It reminds me of fall, but I can't explain how. I feel like the visuals of the season match up, with the lighter greens and browns that cover most of the server, the stone of the Crastle and Dogwarts, and the tans and yellows of the desert. People are getting nervous, scared, and towards the end, more bloodthirsty than before. As the final battle of dogwarts begins, you can see the first snows of a very, very painful winter. Grian, being the winner, shares some of these traits. He's quick to judge and slow to make allies, unsure of who might betray who next. He does keep his closest ally with him until the very end, where they decide theyre going to win together no matter what. Grian, at the end, is tired of the nervousness and painful loyalty that comes with autumn. He is ready for winter to begin.

And so we move on to last life. Here, at last, is our red winter. Death is rampant and vicious here, our first red name appearing in only episode 2. Everyone is cold this season- when you're red, you're out. There are no true alliances or friends, though people tend to fall into patterns when they need to. The reds are much more bloodthirsty this season, being unable to contain themselves around anyone else (though we see our one or two exceptions). So by the time the canary falls, this season's fate is sealed in a bloodbath. No one who has made it this far is arguing that winter this year is red. This season was much more muted visually, the world being covered in dark greens, browns, and greys, as well as the snow covering a decent portion of the map (again, playing into the winter theme). Scott started the series warm, and while he never did get that bitter edge winter has, he was certainly ready to grow outward again into spring.

Double life. A brand new season, full of hope and expectancy, though that fades as time goes on (like things that only bloom in spring). It's new, it's exciting, and for some, it's full of love (as spring is typically seen). Things get intense, but there's always this air of excited mystery. Everyone has played at least one game before, so they know what to expect. Or they think they do, because at every turn there is something new. Secret soulmates? Why not! Leaving your soulmate and choosing someone else? Wonderful! FISHING A WARDEN TO DEATH?! Well, anything for the content.... Pearl, to me, also fits her season. She starts out excited to meet her soulmate, albeit a bit nervous, but she's turned away almost immediately. And, well, who could blame her if she cried? (After all, 'april showers bring may flowers', or whatever it was) She picks herself back up (a plant budding after its flower falls off) and makes it alone. She makes it to summer. And if, in the end, she learned how to plant her seeds, who was going to stop her?

And, well, limited life. Alliances, while having establishing members, are flimsy and easily remade. Everyone is wild, and spontaneous, and most people aren't really gunning to win anymore. There are go-getters, and nobody likes losing (they'd like winning even less..), but no one is playing as seriously as they were before. Everyone has played at least 2 games by now, most have played 3, and this time around dying doesn't even cost you a whole life! It only costs you 30 minutes, which out of 24 hours? Basically nothing until you hit red. Alliances shift with the wind, and not everyone is quite playing by the rules. In the end, Martyn wins. Martyn is... a wild card. He could be like summer, if he wanted to. He could be like spring, or fall, or winter. He's a traveler, a shifter, a knight, anything he needs to be. And if that doesn't go with the fluidity and changeability of this season, then I don't know who else could have won.

[thatcheeseycandle]

//OKAY TO THOSE WHO ARE IN THE TTTE/TIDMOUTH SERVER, OR ANYONE WHO SEES THIS, YOU KNOW ITS TIME FOR A YIAU REACTION

TW SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRETY OF CHP. 37 AND SOME BITS OF A GOLDEN SOUL

(Notes on my last post will be at the end)

OHFMSJAHAJAKSHDHSJAJSHD ITS HERE YEAHAHAHAHHDHD ITS HERE FRESH OUT OF THE OVEN

Oh OH THEYRE THERE ALREADY THEYRE AT THE HOUSE, MANSION, WHATEVER IT WAS

Ah gosh RIGHT THE HYBRID THING. Thank God I did a refresh read before this chapter came out

GADWALL BEHAHAJDB HOLY GOSH

"She has to be okay. I can't just abandon her!" Oh you loyal man, considering she's not.. Yknow in there anymore, I'll be bracing myself for whatever emotions are to come to both Oscar and the readers BEGAJAKDJCB

"You're going to be a part of this family very soon, need I remind you" YEAAASSS THAT TOO! Still feels like a feverdream to now see that these two are engaged considering long ago they were a bit messy with their relationship (aka, A Golden Soul and perhaps many other series-es)

Wait a click GADWALL IS A SILVER SOUL????

Okay now that adds onto my theory of (most likely) all the revived constructs (aka people like Quicksilver) being silver souls, cause to think about it I think Gold dust would've been too limited (most likely) around the time they were actually revived

So then, silver souls were one of the few ways to get ehm back during said times, as to not risk wasting Gold dust

But then- It wouldnt make sense considering HENDRICK HAS VILES OF GOLD DUST but I suppose it could've been gained around recent years and not like by the minute he was revived

ANYWAYS CONTINUING THE CHAPTER! I'll be saving those theories for seperate posts I suppose

Sorry Oscar you just YOU GO WITH HIM TO TELL HER THAT, SHE REALLY REALLY NEEDS TO HEAR IT.

"I know. You always come back running to me, one way or another." Considering a lot, same goes to you Truro to Scot LMAOAIDH

Woag WOAH GADWALL

WHAT ON EARTH?? IS THIS IMPLYING THAT SILVER SOULS HAVE ABILITIES SIMILAR TO THAT OF A GOLDEN WARDEN OR IS GADWALL ONE?????

GOOD LORD-

Oop OOOOOOO WE'RE BACK TO MAYFLOWER AND (Actually) BLUE PETER

Lack of stamina, waif WAIF WAIT

I might post the note I saved this theory on onto my tumblr after this, but is this- IS THIS BLACK SMOKE

Okay now thats sortve an exaggeration considering lack of stamina can be a sympton of a lot of things, BUT ANYWHO CONTINUING ON

Oh yikes YIKES OKAY, INSISTENT, NOTING THAT DOWN

I love how 9F was used in that sentence, fits well!

Friends FIRUABAB OKAY WE GETTING INTO THE LITTLE PEEKS LETS GO

"He'd push everyone that might have given him a place to rest his wheels." Sorry I just I nearly exploded at that sentence, ITS SO AIHFJDUFH Its relatable in a way

CLASS 37 MENTION LETS GOOOO

Her name has a ring to it, lovely!

"We so rarely get larger engines visiting our small piece of paradise."

"Excuse me, I'm a larger engine!" mAYFLOWER BEHAHAJDBXNZ

CRACKED ME UP RIGHT THERE LMAO

(Insert words that describe me just going suddenly quiet reading Blue Peter's thoughts and basically whats happening between the three)

Now wasnt that lovely! Yknow yhe title card got me all tense when I read out Blue Peter's name when I started reading this bit LMAO CAUSE I THOUGHT SOMETHING WAS GONNA YKNOW YEAH HAPPEN

HOLYGO I NEARLY LOST MY OXYGEN, BITTERN MY GUY HAHAHAJAHDHXN

"You act like this is a common thing, Grey"

"That's because it is!" I am not getting over these two australians BEHSJDHDB THIS IS ONE OF THE MOMENTS THAT GET MY CURIOSITY ALL UP FOR FLASHBACK BITS TO PENDENNIS' PAST

shy SHYAHAHAJFB

I love how this bit of the convo is just:

"Well you didnt tell me!"

"How could we? We didnt even know shite about how it works for you!"

FIAYR DUDT

New nickname for Gold dust, Fairy dust

Grey that is one of the most poetic interesting things you've said HOLY GOD

Honestly I cant blame them, even if they knew, that sentence wouldve been magnificent either way

"I mean, who better to run a railway museum than an engine, right?" The way Olivia is technically half an engine (or is she?) and now theres this lad BEHAHAJAKDH

Wait GREY. LORE BIT LORE BIT- Okay I mean why am I surprised, SILVERFOX AND WHO I SUSPECT TO BE BLINK BONNY WORK ON THE BLUEBELL RAILWAY OF COURSE THERES CONSTRUCTS LIKE THAT

(For context, in aGS Godred says he met this person named "Bonny" alongside Silverfox when he was on the Bluebell, but thats from what I remember)

Aait WAIT HORATIO HE

IS THIS IMPLYING HE ALSO TAKES A SIMILAR ROLE????

Waut WUAJAJA OHMYGOD GOLDEN CIRCLE MENTION, GOLDEN CIRCLE MENTION FOLKS

WELL SAID HORATIO WELL SAID (I am speechless)

Oh God OH GOD

OKAY FINALLY THEY REALIZE THAT

WELL SAID EVERYONE.. WELL SAID (I am still speechless)

Oh so THATS WHY THEYRE CALLED WARDENS ITS OHMYGO IT MAKES SOME MORE SENSE NOW

Wait WAIT. HOLY SHIT

THE FUCK YOU MEAN THEY WERE THE ONES TO RUN IT????? THIS

IT MAKES SENSE NOW, WHY THOSE PRICKS HAD ACCESS TO BLACK-SMOKE RELATED THINGS LIKE YKNOW THE LITTLE CANISTER THAT CAUSED SCOT HIS NIGHTMARES AND THE VILE OF BLACK SMOKE

ITS A FUCKIN CORRUPT SYSTEM

Well damn I never expected that a corrupt government would pop up in YIAU, but then again YIAU is basically collecting every type of trauma so LMAOHDGHD

Oh wait he isnt blue in this timeline LMAO NEARLY FORGOT ITS STILL 2023 IN THIS

YoYOYOYOYOO A GNR SADDLE-TANK LETS GO

Yeah YEAAHH FIGHT OFF THOSE OLD HABITS LETS GO BLUE PETER

"It was what enamoured him to that King Class, his dearest Eurion" dare I say the term- BLUE PETER YOU BEHAJDHXB I SEE YOU

"He had always been good at hiding what ailed him. So why was he failing now?" WELL THAT SHOT DIRECTLY INTO MY HEART DIDNT IT

Ohmygo💥💥💥 This is why I love Mayflower, LOOK AT HER SHES JUST YEAH

SHES GOSSIPING WITH HER FRIENDS BEHAJDHDND

Cold and the pain. THE COL-

OHMYGOD OKAY YEAH THIS EXPLAINS THE TITLECARD, WELL I MEANT MAY EXPLAIN BUT YKNOW YEAH

Well I be damned, thats actually kind of true in a way. BUT I MEAN SHE IS TECHNICALLY DIRECTLY RELATED TO THEM AS A NIECE (referencing another chapter I unfortunately forgot the number to but I'll put it in the tags if I do remember it)

AH CRAP I GOTTA EAT DINNER FOR CRYING OUT LOUD- ILL COME BACK TO THIS DRAFT SOON

I AM BACK YEAH LETS GO

"After accepting Tornado he realised just how alone he was." Well THATS. THATS SOMETHING TO BE SHOT BY ON A FRIDAY EVENING

(Insert just a cacophony of "WHAT"s, "NO"s, "STOP NO"s, "LORD"s, and then silence just reading this bit)

"Don't ever feel sorry for being sick, this isn't the 50s or 60s anymore, you won't get scrapped just because you've got a rivet wrong." wHAT IS WITH THIS CHAPTER AND IT'S DEEP QUOTES

But still, wise words from Mayflower right there

Ohmygod. OHMYGOD. I JSUT

I PREDICTED IT AGAINMYGOSOAOOAOAO

THE BLACKSMOKE THE OHVYAJAOAOAOAIDB I THEORISED IT AND I WAS CORREFT

WELL SOMEWGAT CORRECT BUT I WAA CORRECT ABOUT HIM HAVING BLACKSMOKE OHMGYODOAOAKJZBXNX

OH NO ONONNOOBOOO NONO BLUE PETER HOLD ON TO YOURSELF

BE STRONG BE STRONG

NOOOOOOO BLUE PETER NO

(Future me here, I screamed my lungs out irl and my gosh I was not okay since I waa processing a lot of emotions LMAO)

Oh shet its Lode Star OKAY YEAH ITS MUSEUM TIME GUYS

OH ITS THIS BIT BEHAHAHAJXHX

Ay AY WATCH YOUR THOUGHTS ON DOTTI THERE

"He refused to admit it, but he had missed her too." YIEEEEE MALLARD ADMIT IT ALREADY

Woah WOAH KING GEORGE

OOOOOOOO DRAMA LETS GOOO

Wait. King Edward II WAIT. WAI TNOU

NONONONONOO WHAT NO THIS NO NONONONONO

MALLARD FOR FUCKS SAKE YOU JUST GOT BACK NOOOOOOOOO

(Future me here yet again reading over this review before I post it, I was in silence for a while processing this LMAO SO YEAH YKNOW THE EMOTIONS WERE DOING THEIR THING IN THIS CHAPTER)

ANYWHO. GOD THAT- THAT WAS HARD TO SWALLOW

Yet again another well delivered chapter by RedWryvernWrites aka Baku! The emotions were REALLY tugged on in this chapter, anxiety was the main emotion in this LMAO but I did also appreciate those little spills of lore in the mix!

Anywho, I'll see you lot in my next post then!

[mumms-the-word]

Bound by Blood - Ch. 1

Ch. 1 - Ostagar

Characters: Alistair, fem!Surana, Zevran, fem!Tabris, and basically the rest of the DAO crew Plot: Seventeen-year-old Nyssa Surana never expected to find herself a Grey Warden - let alone one of three surviving Wardens, one of which is her own cousin, Velle Tabris. She's the last person anyone would ever choose to save the world. Young, inexperienced, deeply anxious, and only just out of the Circle Tower for the first time in a decade, she's convinced she's as unlikely a hero as unlikely heroes come. But someone has to save Ferelden from the Fifth Blight...and keep her cousin out of trouble...and try not to fall in love with the charming Alistair Theirin, all at the same time. Three impossible tasks, but she's determined to succeed, even with the odds stacked against her. A/N: I figure that Duncan can't be in two places at once, so while he is off recruiting Velle, whose recruitment experience follows the game's canon, Nyssa has a different experience.

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Nyssa Surana was one of the youngest women in all of Ostagar, and no one would let her forget it.

It didn’t matter that she would be eighteen in two months. It didn’t matter that she had completed her Harrowing only one month ago, a test that was as much a rite of passage into adulthood as it was into being a full mage. It didn’t matter that some of the knights in the king’s army had squires as young as fourteen and that the camp quartermasters had elven messengers barely out of their teens running messages to and fro. No, because she was young, and a girl, and an elf, and a mage, it made her somehow different than everyone else, though she couldn’t fathom how or why.

If you asked the mages she had traveled with to get there, or if you asked the soldiers who stared at her as she walked through the camp, she was far too young to be in a place like Ostagar. She was only seventeen, after all, and an army camp was no place for children.

But she wasn’t a child. Though some days she felt about as naive and foolish as one, the robes she wore were proof that she had passed her Harrowing and was a full mage now. Perhaps not an enchanter like the other mages of the Circle that were there to assist the army, but not an apprentice either.

Still. Some days it didn’t seem to matter. She was young and every day she spent at Ostagar was a visceral reminder of that fact. Stares, whispers, and snide remarks all seemed intended to make her question why she had ever agreed to come here, rather than stay warm and safe in Kinloch Hold in the middle of Lake Calenhad. The enchanters tolerated her presence, but the soldiers and warriors in the army? She could feel their eyes burning into her back. She could hear their whispers following her as she walked from the purple tents of the Circle mages to the makeshift clinic run by the Chantry.

They let a girl like that walk around camp alone? Looking like that?

Shut up, mate, she isn’t some knife-ear messenger. She’s a mage, she is. Can’t you tell? Robes and staff?

You can’t be serious. She’s too young. They don’t let mages that young out of the tower.

Look, if you want to risk her setting your bedroll on fire, be my guest. I wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot tent pole, no matter how she looks. But if you want to play dangerous games…

For a pretty thing like that? I just might, once this battle is over.

She shouldn’t have come here. But she was here now. And despite how the stares and whispers made her nervous, it was easy to ignore them when she reminded herself that the alternative would be to stay trapped in that tower forever.

In Kinloch Hold, she was just another mage studying magic. And sure, it was safe, secure, and familiar. But here, she felt as though she could breathe, as though she were a little more alive than when she was shut up in the tower.

Here, she could see the sky and the mountains, which loomed so large and so close that she felt a little dizzy every time she looked up at them. She could touch the bark of strong, healthy trees with her hands, marveling at how they found the strength to grow up from the flagstones that paved most of the ground around the ruins. She could walk freely among the crumbling walls and broken arches of Ostagar, studying the remnants of architecture that must have been breathtaking, in its heyday. She could breathe in the fresh air, though here it was tinged with woodsmoke and the smell of dozens of mabari hounds at all hours.

It usually didn’t bother her much. She couldn’t get that heady mix of beauty and decay or that combination of fresh mountain air and pungent musk in the tower, after all. She ought to appreciate it all while she could.

Ostagar had stolen her breath away when they had first approached it. Though ruined by time and weather, the shells of the fortress halls, arches, and towers nevertheless soared high overhead despite the ages of neglect, casting long shadows with ease, their stones weathered and rugged. Kinloch Hold was tall too, but it was only one building. Here, the towering walls and columns seemed to go on for miles, but with everything open to the sky, it never felt like a prison.

In some places, she could all too easily envision what it must have looked like before, when people still roamed and lived in the fortress. In one corner, an old cathedral or temple stood empty, its roof almost completely gone, but if she stood among the columns there, following them upward as they stretched three or four stories high, she could picture them bearing aloft a vaulted ceiling, perhaps one that was painted with frescos or patterned over with beautiful mosaics. Elsewhere she could see evidence of former gardens and walking paths, places where bits of natural beauty must have poked through in courtyards and around fountains, spaces that had now given way to the trees that sought to take over the area.

It must have been beautiful before it fell to ruin. It was beautiful now, in a tragic way, even with all the modern scaffolding and army tents that cluttered the spaces between. What she wouldn’t give to linger and study the architecture, to try and discern some kind of secret or two from the worn stone arches and crumbling walls.

But that wasn’t why she was here. Nor was she here to amuse soldiers or be stared at like a caged animal. She was here at the behest of First Enchanter Irving, who had sent her with the other Circle mages to assist them as they prepared to fight alongside the armies of King Cailan. Her job was simple. Work alongside the Tranquil to gather items the enchanters and senior enchanters needed and then provide support spells to protect the soldiers and scouts of the king’s army before they headed out into the Korcari Wilds to scout the area or, eventually, into battle.

She was not, under any circumstances, allowed to enter any battles. Irving was very clear about that. She was to assist the enchanters and the army and to stay out of trouble. That was all. Those were the terms with which she had been allowed to leave Kinloch Hold, despite having only completed her Harrowing days before their departure to Ostagar.

She had promised Irving she would obey him to the letter. But she had already broken that promise several times over in small ways.

For one thing, technically she wasn’t supposed to be helping with the Chantry clinic. Though the Chantry wasn’t armed with healing spells, they had plenty of potions, poultices, and bandages for conventional healing. They didn’t need her, and generally speaking, they didn’t much trust her. But Senior Enchanter Wynne had suggested she might be of more use there, attempting to soothe the pains of the dying with her spells. Nyssa wasn’t sure whether her suggestion was meant to keep her farther away from the soldiers or away from the mages preparing complex rituals for the upcoming battle, but in the end it didn’t matter. It gave her the excuse to walk the camp and be of use to someone other than the enchanters.

She just wished she was better at healing. On her first day at Ostagar, she realized just how ill-suited and ill-prepared she was to be an army healer when she saw the first man come in with wounds deep enough that she could see the soft, wet flesh of his organs. She had nearly fainted when they laid him on the cot beside her. Her hands had trembled terribly as she handed the Chantry sister the poultices and bandages they had used. In the end, the poor man died before they even finished trying to stitch his wound closed.

She had gone off shortly after to be sick in the bushes and returned, teary-eyed but determined to ignore the pitying or judgmental looks of the Chantry sisters. After that, each bloody wound still made her feel ill and woozy, but she pushed through it. She wanted to be helpful. She didn’t want to be sent back to the mages, and then from there sent back to the tower. She had to be useful.

She asked Wynne to teach her a healing spell or two and went right back to work in the clinic.

But for some soldiers, it didn’t matter. Not even her healing magic could offer relief to those who came back from the Korcari Wilds sporting wounds tainted by blackened darkspawn blood. Try as she might, the best she could offer them were cool drinks of water and something to dull the pain. The Chantry sisters at the clinic could offer no more than she.

“Wynne,” she asked at one point, after a long day of working at the clinic. “Are there really no spells to help with tainted blood? Nothing at all?”

“I’m afraid not,” Wynne said gently. “Nothing short of becoming a Grey Warden, that is. Only they know of ways to counteract the effects of being tainted by darkspawn blood.”

“But all of them are staying outside of the ruins,” Nyssa said, her heart sinking. “I’m not allowed to leave.”

“And I doubt any of them would answer you even if you asked.”

Nyssa frowned. “There has to be some way…”

She had felt Wynne’s gaze on her as she thought through ways of possibly sending a message to one of the Wardens, to arrange a meeting of some kind. Eventually, Wynne made a thoughtful noise.

“Perhaps you might try asking Ser Duncan, once he returns from his visit to Denerim.”

“Ser Duncan?”

She remembered briefly meeting Duncan, the leader of the Ferelden Grey Wardens, at Kinloch Hold the day after her Harrowing. She had walked into Irving’s office to find Irving, Knight-Commander Greagoir, and Duncan discussing the need for mages in the army because at that time the king had none. That was when she had first heard the word Blight to describe the threat brewing to the south.

The power you mages wield is an asset to any army, he’d said, speaking partly to her and partly to Irving. Your spells are very effective against large groups of mindless darkspawn. I fear if we don’t drive them back, we may see another Blight.

He’d said mages were necessary. Not helpful, not convenient, but necessary. Vital. It was a far cry from what she usually heard about magic.

After years of listening to mages and Chantry sisters and Templars debate about the usefulness of magic as well as all of its many, many dangers and whether it was a gift from the Maker or not, to hear that magic could be so important…it had drawn Nyssa in. When Irving mentioned that they were considering sending a few mages to answer the king’s call for allies, Nyssa had asked to join. It was a rare show of impulsivity for her—she normally kept her head down. Even now she didn’t know what possessed her to ask, but she was glad she did. Irving hemmed and hawed and said he would consider it, but in the end, Duncan had agreed with her.

“If this is the girl you’ve told me about,” he’d said, “then it seems a good idea to let her go. She has earned that right, I think.”

Nyssa still wasn’t sure what he meant by those words. And when she met him again in the library, slowly perusing the books on the shelves, she was too much a coward to ask directly. So she asked to learn about the Grey Wardens instead.

“I once heard that the Wardens accepted elves among their ranks,” she’d said. “Even to the point that the last Warden to slay an Archdemon was an elf.”

“You refer to Garahel,” Duncan said, nodding. “It’s true. The darkspawn threaten everyone. They do not distinguish between the races, and neither should we.”

She had been a little surprised to hear such thoughts from him. “Not everyone agrees with that,” she said softly.

“No, unfortunately not.” He paused, studying her for a moment. “Has being an elf in the Circle been difficult for you?”

She shrugged and looked away, rubbing her arm absently. “A little…”

It could be worse. Given what she knew from letters from her parents and from her Uncle Cyrion, elves seemed to have it worse out in the cities, where they were crowded in alienages and forced to work long days for only a handful of coins. Though they didn’t live in an alienage like her uncle and her cousins, her parents were servants of the Howes in Amaranthine, a destiny that she would have shared, had she not unexpectedly developed magic at seven years old. She thought about it often, what kind of life she might have led if she had never had magic. It was hard to imagine.

At least in the tower, she could pretend she was someone’s equal because she had equal or better magical talent than them. In the tower, she had a bed to herself, even if she’d had to share a room with twenty other female apprentices, and her meals came ready-made, if a little bland, in the tower dining hall. She never had to worry about not having a bed or a hot meal, though privacy was never guaranteed and she often wished she could hide away somewhere just to give herself room to think or breathe. So, she supposed, she ought not to complain if someone occasionally called her a knife-ear or insinuated that she was using cheap tricks to get ahead. It was simply…how things were.

But Duncan’s voice had been soft, almost gentle when he responded. “It is hard to change perceptions. I have tried to reason with many, and failed. If one has always seen elves as less than human, it’s hard to imagine them as anything else.”

Nyssa pursed her lips slightly. It wasn’t a truth she wanted to hear, but she knew it well enough. “I know. I shouldn’t let it bother me, but…”

She stopped before she could find herself pouring out her heart to this complete stranger. She wasn’t ready to embarrass herself that much just yet. So she simply ended with another small shrug.

“Do not let it discourage you,” Duncan had said. He leaned in and she glanced up to meet his dark eyes, finding in them a sense of determination and encouragement. “Let it temper you and make you stronger. That is how you can survive in this world, no matter where you are or what you are doing.”

She hadn’t known what to say at the time. But ever since then, his words, his kindness in that library, had stayed with her.

Let it temper you and make you stronger, he’d said. She tried to. Every time she felt ill at the clinic, or heard the soldiers whispering foul things about her, or a Chantry sister looked at her with open disdain, she tried to let it temper and not discourage her.

But such things were easier said than done. And she had never been particularly strong.

She wished she could ask Duncan for advice again, but he wasn’t around. But if he was really returning, like Wynne said, then perhaps she would get her chance. Perhaps he would even know a solution for treating tainted soldiers. If anyone knew how to help the soldiers dying of darkspawn taint, it would be him.

But she had to wait for his return. So she waited as patiently as she was able and tried to be useful in the meantime. She cast support spells on scouts and soldiers before they ventured into the Wilds, hoping it would be enough to protect them if they encountered small bands of darkspawn. She ran errands for the enchanters and worked as much as possible in the clinic, even though it regularly made her feel faint or ill. In her downtime, she sometimes visited the kennel, speaking to the kennel master and watching the mabari hounds. And she tried to take Duncan’s advice to heart.

There was a noticeable shift in the air the day he returned. The eve of battle was looming ever closer and there were whispers that the king was ready to launch the attack almost as soon as the Warden Commander arrived. She could see a noticeable difference in the tempo of camp life that day. It was as though everyone was suddenly moving at twice their normal speed, eager to don arms and armor, set up fortifications, and prepare the hounds.

Duncan should be back today, was the whisper around the camp. I guess he’s brought another Warden recruit.

She was rolling bandages for the Chantry sisters when she saw him walking through the camp. A young, dusky-skinned elven woman trailed along behind him, looking sullen and quiet. Something struck her as familiar about the elf, but with a quick word to Duncan, the woman split off and disappeared into the camp, while Duncan made his way over to a bonfire to sit and rest.

This was her chance. She finished rolling the bandages, set them in a basket for the sisters, and prepared herself.

It was time to meet the Warden Commander once again.

[broodwolf221]

solas x another unwritten ship for him - caressing the other’s hand

hehehehehehehehe okay. everyone else needs context for this. so, there's a joke in my friend group about how i ship solas with EVERYONE. and, well. one friend suggested someone as a joke. except i am me and i accepted the challenge. thus, i present to yall the most unhinged fucking ship: solas/oghren. yeah, them. pre-relationship and a bit of awkward desire and solas having a Thing for hairy men! (that said, i can actually sorta see it - reading through oghren's dialogue has been eye-opening fr. but it would take a big fucking fic to get them together in a serious way lmao) @dadrunkwriting 821 words cws: none

The Inquisition had made significant connections, including a promising one with Orzammar. Yet none had expected the dwarf who showed up at Skyhold, particularly one wearing the armor of a Grey Warden. Blackwall did not recognize him, but that did not mean much, for as he reminded everyone who asked, he had been out recruiting alone and had not been to Weisshaupt personally. The new Warden seemed disinterested in their current Warden… and in all of them. 

In fact, about the only thing he seemed interested in was the tavern. One day, Solas had gone to speak with him, but several clumsy insults later and he had determined it was a useless endeavor. Which is why this came as a surprise. 

“Have you need of me, Warden?”

“Nah. Just wanted to, uh…”

“What?”

“Shouldn’t have said what I said.” He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “But I’m not gonna apologize!” Solas couldn’t help but snort, the man’s eyes widening a little before he grinned. “Well. Okay then. We good?”

“Why not?” He replied, closing his book. “I may loathe the Wardens and have little reason to be impressed by your carriage, but yes, we’re good.” The dwarf blinked, then suddenly his grin widened.

“Hey! Nice! You got a bit of bite to you, huh? Yeah, that’s good. Okay then.” He nodded firmly and then waved, leaving Solas alone in the rotunda.

And a little curious.

-

Several weeks had passed, and the Warden had made himself more at home. He still spent plenty of time in the tavern, but he had ventured outside of it as well. He spoke with Solas sometimes, the two of them trading barbs, but eventually he’d had enough. Oghren came into the rotunda and Solas shut his book pointedly. “Come, dwarf,” he said simply, rising and walking away. Oghren paused before following him, and didn’t balk at all until Solas stepped into the small room—with a prepared, steaming bath.

“Hey now, no—”

“Yes,” Solas insisted, gesturing at the tub. “You represent the Inquisition now. You will look the part. And if you refuse, I will summon Bull, and he will pick you up and put you in—”

“Sod it! Fine! Fine!” He started unbuckling his armor, grumbling under his breath about ‘sodding elves’ the whole way. Solas snorted, glancing away as the final layers came off without any attempt at propriety. But at last Oghren stepped into the bath, cursing up a storm at the hot water.

“Good,” Solas said as he was finally seated, shoving a bar of soap at his chest. “You scrub, and I will tend to… this,” he tugged on a bit of Oghren’s beard, amused when the man’s eyes went wide.

“Hey, no. A dwarf keeps his beard. You don’t get to touch it—” Solas held up a wide-toothed comb, wiggling it in front of Oghren’s face until he just scowled. “You are a right pain in the ass, you know that, elf?”

“So I’ve been told,” he mumbled under his breath, Oghren snorting before he started lathering up with the soap. Solas knelt outside the tub and began working on unbraiding his beard. “If you get food in this when I’m done,” he began quietly, “I will burn it all off.” Oghren grunted and glared at him, but did not protest.

Solas was still working by the time the dwarf was done soaping up—having taken a break during a few particular moments of cleaning—and eventually the other man was just relaxing in the tub, letting Solas work through his thick beard. It was fascinating: the length, the coarse texture, the way that brushing it revealed the threads of white through the stark red. 

He actually enjoyed spending time with the dwarf. Solas appreciated his blunt manner, always knowing that what was said was what was meant, but through their conversations he had also uncovered glimmers of surprising depth. Bold analyses presented as jokes, made light of. Details of his personal history, while few and far between, had shown a life of utter loyalty to Orzammar, followed by a deep disruption that he spoke little of. He was intriguing.

Solas enjoyed being intrigued.

He did not realize for some time that Oghren’s eyes had opened, that he was staring at him. Eventually he met those eyes and did not break the gaze. Oghren looked puzzled, a wet hand rising to just skate across the back of Solas’, making him shiver.

“I think it’s been brushed enough, elf,” he muttered under his breath, finally looking away. Solas startled at the reminder of his task, nodding and stepping aside, looking away as Oghren dried himself and got dressed again.They spoke little and returned to their business. And if that night Solas considered the rough weave of that beard and how it would feel under his spread hand, pressed against the other man’s equally thick chest hair, all of it intriguing… Well. That was his concern.

[felassan]

its that time again! 🍵 

Thoughts/wonderings on Dragon Age: The Missing #4, under a cut due to spoilers for The Missing -

I'm probably becoming a lil unhealthily obsessed with this building. what do we think it is? the Archon's Palace is the highest building in Minrathous (tho I guess not, as it has sewers and this is floating). A Circle? it has a similar shape to the logo for the Circle of Magi. the meeting place for the Magisterium senate, lording over everyone below from high above? whatever it is it looks cool and it must be important to be featured on the map. I wanna go there (๑*ᗜ*)

I love Neve Gallus' design. it's fresh and cool, and she just looks so cute and neat okay. also full of detail - the snake pattern on the headpiece, shoulder 'scales' and scales elsewhere, collar & jacket like one of those hooded snakes, snake-'tailcapped' footwear (rather than steel toe-capped), the serpent belt and of course most of all the beautiful snake design of her prosthetic limb. 10/10 character/costume design

this page had me on my knees basically. my heart.

surely this panel is a new meme format hh? same goes for the one where Varric is saying "Then perhaps all this is linked" and Harding says "And we've led them here"

you walked into the wrong neighborhood bro

I also liked this pair of illustrations, they had a nice 'bookend' feel and reminded me a lot of Lord of the Rings.

Other thoughts:

Minrathous looks kinda cyberpunk and (despite what Harding says in the opening panels) feels quite clean in this comic

Is that the person tailing them lurking in the doorway that Harding is catching sight of here?

These holes in Varric's ear seem to be new. What happened? Injury from the leopard attack?

confused a bit by the perspective flip in this issue. In issue 1, Varric was more like 'stop', and Harding was more like 'talk to him'. it's flipped around a bit here.

Varric smiled when he thought about Neve and then lit up when he saw her. she calls him an "old friend". I wonder how they met and how long they've known each other. something to do with varric's spy network?

This panel felt a bit meta hh.

When Neve says "Your friend is quite intense" is she referring to Solas or Harding?

Then we come to the two main things we learn in this issue:

We learn that Solas has been in Minrathous causing trouble. He's been attacking Venatori locations in the city, stealing artifacts from them and freeing elven slaves in the process, which has greatly angered the Venatori. The Venatori now want revenge and a "bunch of rebellious elves" are "causing trouble throughout the city, presumably in the name of the one who freed them". I wonder if the artifacts weaken the Veil, are connected to the idol somehow, or are simply sources of great power that Solas either needs for himself/his plans or that he simply thinks should be taken away from the Venatori so that they don't cause harm using them? Tevinter Nights showed agents of Fen'Harel seeking artifacts and referenced rumors of elven artifacts that strengthen the Veil, like the ones from DA:I. freeing folks also makes sense, "I am not a monster" and it's something he has a history of doing

In this issue we also learn that Neve works with a group called the Shadow Dragons, who have been trying to help the former slaves. indeed they're trying to help anyone who is held as slaves in Minrathous. this is our first time hearing about this new group. they make it their business to help those in need and Neve makes it her business to help them. I'm a bit ¿ about their name, just due to how it sounds, but it's exciting to learn about a new group/faction. Each issue of this DA:D prequel comic has shone a spotlight on a faction - Grey Wardens, Antivan Crows, the Veil Jumpers and the Shadow Dragons. two new, two old. it's a nice balance. and it brings to mind the common fan theory/speculation about the PC of DA:D having a different faction background depending on the player's choice. at the very least it feels like a way of saying 'these four groups [or characters from them] will feature in a significant way/be 'players on the board' in DA:D".

thinking about the Shadow Dragons' name in an in-world context, like thinking about why they may have chosen their name: dragons are emblematic of Tevinter. dragon imagery is everywhere there, dragons are a symbol of power and Tevinter heraldry shows a dragon. the Tevinter Imperium is a 'dragon', or several (metaphorically) - Magisters, ruling over the classes below. the "shadow dragons" feel like "the other side" of Tevinter, the side in shadow, the underside, the 'anti-Tevinter'. I'd guess that they are the "Tevinter you forgot", i.e. the Viper's faction. (and if you look at Tevinter heraldry, there is also a snake 'in opposition' to the dragon.) before Missing #4 I wondered if “the Tevinter you forgot” "means they are a group of folks who have fallen through the cracks in Tevinter society or who are the downtrodden in Tevinter society. is it some sort of uprising or anti-Magisterium movement?" - here we learn they're trying to help people Tevinter 'forgot' like slaves and former slaves. I also commented "from the story it sounds like the dark-clad card dealer is the Viper. the magister in the story is afraid of him and tries to claim that the Viper is just a tale, implying that the Viper’s name has become known as a sort of shadowy, stealthy urban legend in Minrathous and that it has a sort of bogeyman effect on magisters." Shadow indeed. Neve later comments that the Shadow Dragons are trying to "help anyone held as slaves in Minrathous". I think it was in the Dorian short story in Tevinter Nights that there's a reference to how there's now an anti-slavery movement in Tevinter. Is that the Shadow Dragons? you can see possible echoes of "the Tevinter you forgot" in later comic dialogue "The Shadow Dragons have vowed to help us restore our dignity. To get back the lives that were stolen from us by the Venatori. To make sure we don't have to scrabble in the dirt for food and warm", imo.

I wonder if Dorian, Mae and the Lucerni know anything about the Shadow Dragons? maybe they've done some work together?

and while the Viper/Viper's faction/the Shadow Dragons themselves didn't appear in issue 4, issue 4 still highlighted them, continuing the pattern I speculated about, of the DA Day short stories (Evka/Antoine/Wardens, Teia/Viago/Crows, Strife/Irelin/Veil Jumpers and Viper's faction/Shadow Dragons), one from each of those short stories per issue.

Varric is still having a bad time. also he was born in 9:1, and so if DA:D is set in 9:52, he's now over 50. from these comics, he's feeling old and tired. I don't expect that he'll be a companion in DA:D. more like an advisor (off-field), a contact or quest-giver, or the person that recruits us.

"But why? What did he get out of it? Surely, he wanted something in return" was an interesting line. because like on one hand "I am not a monster", he has a history of freeing people who were enslaved and he's shown as valuing freedom and not enjoying needless suffering. setting people free definitely is the only decent thing. but he's also smart and does things with purpose, always playing 4-D chess, and has been outwitting Varric and Harding at every turn throughout these comic issues, always one step ahead. it seems like a 'it's both' situation. like two birds, one stone. he would free people and it's the right thing to do, and he also gains from it strategically. Varric lampshades this in the final page: and it's three stones, actually. Solas freed people, dealt with the Venatori on his tail and slowed Varric/Harding down long enough to escape all in one move.

Also, at first I wondered if the brown-haired elf was sort've projecting his own perceptions on Solas (with the "his kin" lines). but look here. the leader of these Venatori has a pouch round their neck. the others don't, it's prominently placed and it's consistent on this Venatori in every panel they're in here. and where have we seen that before? around the neck of the Venatori stalker that saved Varric from the leopard in Issue 3. I think we're supposed to conclude that the ringleader of the Venatori that attack the elves in this issue is the Venatori person that's been tailing Varric and Harding all throughout these comic issues. the Venatori ringleader seems to recognize Varric in a later panel, with the "You!". They fight and Varric starts demanding answers from the Venatori leader. but then, just as he's about to get answers, the brown-haired elf intervenes and kills them at that very moment. they won't hurt their people anymore, and conveniently also (more than one purpose to things again..), now Varric and Harding won't get any answers. and also this:

another - not two, but - three stones. when the brown-haired elf kills the Venatori ringleader, A) preventing them from further harming his people and B) preventing them from giving any answers to Varric and Harding, C) the killing blow also cuts that pouch from their neck. a very specific thing to depict. presumably in the chaos of the Venatori leader's death (you can't see the elf's hands in the very next panel) the brown-haired elf has grabbed the pouch, and part of his goal all along was to take it. I think we're supposed to conclude that the pouch contained the crucious stone and that the brown-haired elf works for Solas. so the "You're too late, I already have the crucious stone" letter from issue 3 was a Solas fakeout, the Venatori at that point in time did in fact have the stone (having beaten Solas to the vault, and as-shown by the Venatori who saved Varric from the leopard having the pouch around their neck), and the events of issue 4 were part of Solas' plan to steal it/steal it back from them (and going by Neve's earlier dialogue, it's not the first artifact he's stolen from them). so two things here: one, Solas' 'three stones' are actually-actually four (free the slaves, deal with the Venatori on his tail, delay Varric/Harding long enough to escape, and steal the crucious stone artifact from the Venatori [my head hurts]). and two, the brown-haired elf was working for Solas after all. he'll give the pouch (and the contents, the stone) to Solas, "he set us, his kin, free" wasn't projection considering that he does work for him, and him being there in the alleyway when he was, with the information that he had, was part of Solas' plan to escape and get the stone. otherwise, it's pretty convenient that one of the former slaves at the place Neve's aware of where former slaves have been eating scraps, at the time when she takes Varric/Harding there, just happened to have helpful info about the meeting that Varric/Harding needed and also happened to kill the Venatori leader and in the process cut the pouch from their neck. idk if it means all the elves here were working for Solas or just the brownhaired one or the brownhaired one & the blond one, but yea. definitely the brownhaired elf is I think.

Neve fighting was cool: staff-less magic and then as a mage using a dagger or shortsword.

party combo-kill! ice spell + finishing blow - a comic depiction of Shattering :)

Brown-haired elf missing his elven ear here.

A cool panel. Also, you can't see his other hand..

just really liked these two panels :) also, they missed their chance, they missed this chance, in this, a comic called The Missing... is that why it's called that?

[clenches fist] vowing to protect Neve and her good heart at all costs

and he stole the crucious stone artifact from the Venatori.

I am not sure that I agree with the premise of this article that BioWare retweeted, that The Missing is required reading before DA:D. I enjoyed issues 2 & 3 a lot! I was hoping for a bit more from the end of issue 4, perhaps a small Solas appearance like at the end of Dark Fortress or just a bit more insight into his plans or things in/the setup for DA:D. finishing on the Dread Wolf mural from the DA:D TGA 2020 trailer as a reminder was neat but the highlight reveal from these comics as a whole was definitely the new mural depicted in issue 3.

"He knows us too well, we need to find/use people he doesn't know" is the same conclusion that was reached at the end of Trespasser (and Harding was present for that conversation). I guess the meta irl reasons for The Missing are: A] since it'll be almost 10 years irl between games, to refresh folks about that conclusion and the fact that it will be a new PC and why it has to be 'someone he doesn't know', since most new players to the franchise at DA:D aren't going to buy years old DA:I and DLC and play til it the end of Trespasser B] fill some irl time C] do some marketing/advertizing and D] highlight these four groups/factions and introduce the two new ones (Veil Jumpers and Shadow Dragons) in advance of DA:D, and possibly highlight these specific characters (Strife, Teia, Evka etc) the same way (though I speculate those characters are more like DA:D 'contact' cameos rather than that they will be companions themselves). Certainly if I was Varric at the moment when Harding asks "So who are you thinking?" at the end here, after the events I had experienced and people & groups I had met in recent weeks, with those being fresh in my mind, I would be thinking about the Grey Wardens, the Antivan Crows, the Veil Jumpers and the Shadow Dragons, both as groups and terms of the mental list of people that I had recently met who Solas doesn't know. again it makes you think about the popular speculation that the DA:D PC will have the background of being from one of these groups. also, those 4 groups aren't ones which were referenced in Tevinter Nights as keeping an eye on Solas/as Solas having some info on them in turn (unlike some other groups like the Mortalitasi, the Executors, the Ben-Hassrath etc).

[agentrouka-blog]

I will admit, I’ve never read the books (for SHAME, I know) and have only seen the show and read many analyses by all you lovely folks (I like my happy little pro Sansa & Jon/Jonsa corner), so the question I’m about to ask might be silly.

I get Varys’ endgame - he wants Aegon (aka a king he has influence over/he thinks will be good) in charge. And that’s been his plan since AGOT, IIRC. But… what do you think was Littlefinger’s plan at the start? Did he even have one? Or was it just “chaos is a ladder” and he was winging it? We know he convinced Lysa to Poison Jon Arryn and place the blame on the Lannisters… was he hoping Ned would make it to the Capitol, let his honor get him killed, and then that would open up Cat for marriage? He tells Lysa he’s only ever loved Cat, but even so I don’t know what a marriage to Cat would get him… He’s always wanted her so there’s satisfaction in that, but would that be enough for a power hungry man like LF? I doubt it. And killing off sickly sweetrobin is one thing, but Cat had three healthy boys so it’s not like he could reasonably get that warden position. Obviously, at some point his plan became “get Sansa the North, Riverlands, and the Vale and become her consort,” but I find it hard to believe that was his plan from the very start… I’m rambling now so I’ll shut up, but would love to know your thoughts on it??

Hi there!

First of all:

(We shame because we love. <3 )

That out of the way, I think Littlefinger’s main motivation with Ned is not gaining power through a marriage to Catelyn. As you describe, that’s an impossibility. 

I’d say it’s simple revenge, alongside the intention to destabilize the kingdoms to create some of that much-desired chaos for ladder purposes. 

Petyr Baelish was a charity ward in a High Lord’s castle, and the effect of growing up in such an environment, the wealth and opportunity and power he witnessed without being able to fully partake - and the ease with which he was expelled - left a deep wound and an insatiable ambition. 

He challenged Brandon Stark (!) for Catelyn’s hand, perhaps because he believed she slept with him that one time, perhaps because he genuninely believed (like Quentyn) the power of a good story would be enough to overcome reality, and their classist society and give him his dream. Instead he was beaten to a pulp and then thrown out on his still-recovering butt two weeks later when Lysa spilled the beans about the pregnancy to Hoster. 

Everyone thought it was because of that stupid duel with Brandon Stark, but that wasn't so. (ASOS, Sansa VII)

He was completely humiliated and reminded of “his place”, and had only Lysa’s infatuation left to capitalize on. Which he did thoroughly. A slow climb based on flexibly taking advantage of every opportunity he could identify. Once the pieces lined up, he could get to work on doing to them what was done to him. 

Littlefinger gets Ned killed - killed and humiliated and publicly stripped of his honor: the guy who got Catelyn, brother to the guy who physically humiliated him. But he also destroys Catelyn’s happiness, her family, her peace. He may have loved her, and he certainly uses that sentiment as a weapon to hurt Lysa in her final moments, but it’s not his motivation to be with Catelyn now. 

He transferred that past obsession onto someone new, and incorporated that into his plan to destroy his past “enemies” Tully and Stark, while at the same time making her a potential puzzle piece to gaining power through her (as of yet potential) inheritance. 

Reason 1: her look and her family connection (easily controlled replacement Catelyn)

When Sansa finally looked up, a man was standing over her, staring. He was short, with a pointed beard and a silver streak in his hair, almost as old as her father. "You must be one of her daughters," he said to her. He had grey-green eyes that did not smile when his mouth did. "You have the Tully look."

"I'm Sansa Stark," she said, ill at ease. The man wore a heavy cloak with a fur collar, fastened with a silver mockingbird, and he had the effortless manner of a high lord, but she did not know him. "I have not had the honor, my lord." 

Septa Mordane quickly took a hand. "Sweet child, this is Lord Petyr Baelish, of the king's small council."

"Your mother was my queen of beauty once," the man said quietly. His breath smelled of mint. "You have her hair." His fingers brushed against her cheek as he stroked one auburn lock. Quite abruptly he turned and walked away. (AGOT, Sansa II)

Reason 2: her romanticism, which is thoroughly unlike Catelyn and feeds into the fantasies he harbored as a boy.

Lord Baelish stroked his little pointed beard and said, "Nothing? Tell me, child, why would you have sent Ser Loras?"

Sansa had no choice but to explain about heroes and monsters. The king's councillor smiled. "Well, those are not the reasons I'd have given, but …" He had touched her cheek, his thumb lightly tracing the line of a cheekbone. "Life is not a song, sweetling. You may learn that one day to your sorrow."

Sansa did not feel like telling all that to Jeyne, however; it made her uneasy just to think back on it. (AGOT, Sansa III)

Reason 3: the Bael the Bard move. 

One day in his bitterness he called Bael a craven who preyed only on the weak. When word o' that got back, Bael vowed to teach the lord a lesson. (ACOK, Jon VI) 

He was humiliated so he’ll humiliate them back, by stealing the daughter of his enemies (Tully and Stark) and making her his, claiming their legacy and turning it into his own. 

He has pragmatic, political reasons to use Sansa as a pawn, but his inability to control himself around her, his uninvited touching gives away that he is personally invested.  

That’s what will break his neck eventually. He’ll trip into vastly overestimating himself like he did with Brandon, and this time no one will beg to spare him. Not because that boy back then deserved to be crushed by feudal hierarchy, but because he allowed himself to become a monster because of his bitterness and caused vast death and destruction. 

[thedinanshiral]

The time is nigh.

We´re nearly there. we got news this week.

Say goodbye to "Dreadwolf"

Dragon Age: Dreadwolf is now Dragon Age: The Veilguard, and while the name change isn't horrible, insiders poking at it merely hours before BW got to reveal it was particularly annoying. Insiders are good to expose issues, harrassment and other bad practices in the industry, not spoiling game details barely a moment before official news! While we were all waiting for the Summer Games Fest on Friday, "insiders" spoiled the game would have a name change. Soon after BioWare confirmed this with a blog post, but i'll take a moment here to say this is a game many of us have been painfully waiting for ages, there's unimaginable anxiety and expectations involved on all sides and just when we're right around the corner some people popped up to stir a pot that doesn't need any more stirring, considering the dev history of this game i'm sure many people read these insiders' "i know something you don't tee hee" posts and streams and feared the worst, again. Completely unnecessary. Fortunately the news were rather inocuous but what insiders did at such a last moment was still annoying. They did the equivalent of telling an excited kid at Christmas that they got socks right before they got a chance to open their present, at least it feels like that.

Moving from that, many people feel the name could drop that "the" and be just Dragon Age: Veilguard. It'd follow the pattern of DA games having three-words titles (Dragon Age Origins, Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age Inquisition), and personally i think it rolls off the tongue way better without "the" in the middle too. This name change brought with it the acronym issue, and a sad goodbye to all the DA:D jokes. Now people are deciding if it should be DA:V, DAtV, DAVG. Former DA dev and writer David Gaider has already expressed his wish we all just don't go for DAVG, one presumes because it's too close to his own name. DAD jokes are quickly being replaced by Dragon Age TV and Dave ones, and others about DAD going to get cigarrettes and never coming back. I'm already fond of DAV or simply Veilguard.

The name change is already applied to platforms like Stream and console stores, where it's been possible to add the unreleased game to the wishlist since the latest trailer from last year. This one is from the PS5 store:

As BW explains in their blog post, the name change follows a need to change the focus due to this story's particulars. Yes, Solas is an antagonist, a big bad wolf, he's the Dread Wolf! BUT he's not the only threat we'll face this time, there are others, possibly bigger and more urgent matters to deal with. The Veil is quite the protagonist in this game, seems it's the last barrier between Thedas and utter annihilation, and as BW says, "the Veil needs guarding". DAO had the Grey Wardens, DA2 had Hawke & friends, DAI had the Inquisition, and now DAV has the Veilguard, a group of individuals from various backgrounds tasked with guarding the Veil. Pretty straightforward.

Gameplay details

BW has so far revealed we'll meet 7 new companions from a variety of factions and backgrounds, that we could romance any of them and that got everyone excited.. but we can only take 2 at a time to join the party, and combat will include a wheel menu to pause and strategize. This detail has people anticipating combat this time around will be much more like Mass Effect, with only MC and two party members the player might not control but send commands to instead, while some think BG3 and its success may have influenced some decisions as well.

This comparison reminded me of Mass Effect Andromeda, a highly criticized game many threw under a bus quickly and undeservedly (yes, undeservedly) . While it had its flaws it was a good game and its combat was possibly the best ME combat to date, and i think BW may have taken that for DAV. The one redeeiming grace from their last released game before DAV could have very well served as a base for it.

As for the different factions our companions may come from, it has all been teased before in concept art and side media, namely the Tevinter Nights anthology where we were introduced to entirely new factions as well as shown old ones more in depth. Antivan Crows, Mortalitasi, Lords of Fortune to name possibly the most anticipated ones. And we know the action this time will move all over Thedas, exciting new locales like Antiva, Rivain, Tevinter, the Anderfells, Arlathan Forest..

Lore trove!

On top of all these exciting news, just think of the lore, THE LORE. If Solas is not the main threat, if as BW says there are other gods we'll have to deal with as the Veilguard, who are they? Are we finally getting a double Blight? Are those other gods the last two remaining Old Gods OR is it the remaining Evanuris pushing from the other side of the Veil? Just how many fronts will our party be fighting on to save the world? And what ancient mysteries will come to light as we explore northern Thedas? In The Missing comics we learned there are areas of Arlathan forest that are twisted in time and space, paths too dangerous to traverse where spirits may take control of you, and gods know what else is there, what long forgotten horrors are waiting in the shadows of a history very few may remember. Could one of our new companions be an ancient elf? Many questions and the imagination is flying so high and far ..

But i'd like to focus on a small detail. Remember this? The little red book. It's where my avatar comes from! Here's a bit more on that. I remember back then i quickly edited it trying to get a clearer image

The tower on the cover first reminded me back then of the figurines seen on the map in Inquisition, then the protagonist of what we now know is Veilguard was said to be named Rook (possibly a codename), so there it is. The Warden, Hawke, the Inquisitor and now (the) Rook. A chess piece in the Dread Wolf's board. I think that's what the mystery red book's cover is hinting at. So when i read we'll be getting 7 companions my mind went straight to chess. This game will be about strategy, moving the right pieces the right way, specially if we'll be fighting on multiple fronts. The protagonist Rook and 7 companions.

Also reminded me of Solas' banter with the Iron Bull where they were playing a chess match mentally on the go. Here's a great recap of it. I don't understand chess, never really got to fully learn it, but i appreciate its symbolic value and of course, this will be a race of wits.

Solas, the other gods, the politics, the manipulations and revelations, everything Thedas has to offer is getting closer by the minute. Today it's the Xbox Showcase, in a couple of hours, we're all counting on some kind of reveal after the SGF gave us nothing. I hope for a cinematic trailer and introduction of companions, maybe if i could be so greedy even a release date or the possibility to pre-order, or a date for it. If not, we still have Tuesday 11th for a confirmed and announced by BW 15 minutes long gameplay reveal.

A gameplay reveal, fiften minutes!! It's real, it's happening, we're going home.

[feralkwe]

I know you've been put off DA like I have, but I'm still nosy nosy, so anything you want to say or share from A Warden's Penitence, I'd love to see.

oh man, i've gone back and forth on if i should even keep writing this fic at all. there are so many great and fun things happening in it, and it is by far the most self-indulgent fic i've written. you know i love all of dragon age for all it has given me in fandom and irl, and yeah, i'm pretty put off from it, but the story of the warden just pulls at me and will not entirely let go. i know bioware says they're done with the warden's story, but i have so many more questions that demand answers for not only my warden, but the order overall. if they won't answer them, i will. even if they do, i'm not sure i care to hear their answers anymore.

a particular point of interest to me is fiona, whom i love beyond reason. an enigmatic and magnificent character who has just endured so much, overcome so much more, and despite being put in impossible situation after impossible situation, continues to do the very best she can for everyone involved. if i ever get back to it, i have a whole magical mystery tour arc planned for kahrin and fiona. have an excerpt:

Kahrin pinched the bridge of her nose. “And where is this dagger now?” “I would imagine it is in Weisshaupt, somewhere. It was thoroughly examined, along with the brooches, and myself.” “None of this makes sense.” “A good many people have said all of this long before you ever took a step in the world.” That was all Kahrin needed, to be reminded that this woman was old enough to have birthed her. Alive and fully within her mind, this woman had been a Grey Warden, and then just not. It set a panic in her that she couldn’t shake, even when Fiona looked at her with a small smile of understanding that felt too comforting. “So, you can’t help me.” “I’m afraid the Wardens have already looked at everything from the socks I was wearing to blood magic.” Kahrin huffed and dropped back into her chair. From socks to blood magic sounded like a store for cursed thrift sundries, but also like something the Wardens would cover when they tried to figure out what had cured Enchanter Fiona. “I can’t just go back to them and ask nicely.” Not after deserting, not after Adamant. Not ever, probably. “You’d think they would be more interested in a cure.” “Do you?” She blinked, though she heard Fiona’s words exactly. “You don’t?” “I think that the Wardens enjoy their secrets, and for good reason.” Fiona tilted her head a scant inch. “Let’s say you do find a cure, how far would it go?” “What do you mean?” A crease formed across Kahrin’s brow, causing a chain of wrinkles over her tattoo. “Would you share this cure with everyone?” The words of course sprang upon her tongue but her lips couldn’t quite birth them. Kahrin let a little gasp at the realization that she didn’t know. She wasn’t sure. She knew she sought this cure for herself and for Alistair. She would share it with Anders and Nathaniel for sure. Maybe all of Vigil’s Keep. It was the maybe that stopped her from speaking at all. Why would she keep it a secret from anyone? Because, as Fiona said, Grey Wardens liked their secrets, and Kahrin was, at her core after so many years, a Grey Warden.

[elfmagesurana]

Warden!Jowan AU: Redcliffe Conscription

~°••°~

Surana feels herself panicking, breathing coming on quicker at Arl Eamon's refusal to let Jowan leave the castle unmolested. The Arl, Bann Teagen, and Alistair look at her in various states of disapproval for even asking.

Surana knows for a fact now that Jowan will become Tranquil if he is sent back to Kinloch Hold. He'd told her as much when he'd been in that awful prison cell she released him from, and Irving himself had said as much when she'd asked about it in his office. She should have released him from the cell before, and told him to leave forever, hindsight is crueler than any demon.

With a heavy heart, Surana looks Jowan in the eyes before speaking.

"Then I shall recruit this mage into the Grey Wardens." She takes hold of his hand, and through muscle memory alone he brushes his thumb against her hand, calming her nerves. Jowan is her dearest friend, and she just wants him safe.

No one else accepts this outcome, especially Alistair. Surana can feel his disapproval before he even speaks.

"The Grey Wardens can't recruit criminals, Surana!" Alistair protested, Eamon gone silent and Bann Teagen looked to be in deep thought.

"Duncan recruited me, and I was sentenced to die!" Surana reminds him, hurt by his vehement refusal. He'd seen how much Jowan meant to her.

"Because of him!" Alistair shouts, and Surana jumps slightly as Alistair makes an unconscious step forward.

"Don't yell at her! You're mad at me, not her!" Jowan pipes up in defense of his friend, slightly surprising Surana. Usually the roles were reversed. He looks at her fondly. "She's my friend, and I care about her, more than anything. I'm sorry it took so long to realize that." Jowan apologizes.

"Oh Alistair, everyone deserves a second chance. The man is clearly remorseful of his actions." Leliana lightly scolds, her tone sympathetic to Jowan's situation and no doubt thinking of her own.

"Yes Alistair, do you truly hate this man so? Or has your Templar training poisoned your mind such that you cannot even conceive of anything beyond it? Would you truly let this man die?"

Alistair calms a bit at this, shamed. "I... you're right. I'm sorry Surana... Jowan. You're the leader, and I can't fault you for wanting to save your friend, Maker knows I wish I could've saved some of mine." Alistair says, quietly.

Surana feels nothing but relief, and accepts his apology. Looking to the Guerrins, Surana asks if she can count on them in the fight to come. They say yes, with Eamon recommending the group to finish using the grey warden treaties while he aims to get the Landsmeet started. Neither man make eye contact with Jowan.

With her heart lighter, Surana heads out of Redcliffe with Alistair, Leliana, Morrigan, and Jowan in tow.

--

Jowan is rendered unconscious, and Alistair is quick to check on him.

"He made it, surprisingly." Alistair said, picking Jowan up like a sack of potatoes and walking with Surana back to camp. He'd actually had to threaten a nosy Zevran not to follow them, and Alistair still felt guilty. Then felt annoyed at his guilt over threatening an assassin.

"I'm glad. And thank you again, Alistair. For letting me recruit him." Surana says, smiling up at him shyly.

Alistair blushes and looks forward. "He's your friend, and you are the leader of our little group. Doubly so after you beat up Sten. I still can't believe that worked." Alistair says, ribbing her.

Surana laughs along, happy there are no hard feelings.

--

Jowan wakes up eventually in his own tent, Surana had been taking care of him while he'd been unconscious. She smiles at him, eyes filled with something Jowan can't recognize. "What...was that? Was that the Archdemon?! We have to fight that thing?" Jowan says fearfully.

Surana nods, "Alistair said the nightmares will either get worse or you will be able to block them out eventually. as for the Archdemon, well. Between my Entropy magic and your... magic. I think we should save the Archdemon battle for Alistair, we will just support him I think. Now that you're up, we should head out. We need to head for the Brecilian Forest next."

Jowan needs help from Leliana to pack his tent back up, but he's quick to note that Alistair had to help Surana as well. A hard ball of shame sets in his stomach soon after however, knowing that he and Surana were lacking in what seemed to be things most everyone else already knew. He really hated living in the Circle.

Giving Sten a wide berth, Jowan sets his meager things into the caravan Bodahn had apparently given to them, as thanks for safe travels and good coin.

Jowan just hoped life as a Grey Warden wasn't as awful as life in the Circle.

--

Jowan didn't live many of his years outside of the Circle, but he was pretty sure that trees hadn't been attacking people constantly.

Morrigan had called them Sylvans, like they were normal. Jowan had tried casting a Flame Blast, but when it proceeded to do nothing but set them all on fire, he hid until the fight was over.

Sten had been livid, and Surana had to defend him by saying that it was his first battle. Which was true, but trees were attacking and that more than anything had scared him. Sten scared Jowan, not because of the Qunari thing but because of the way he looked at him. Like Jowan was the scariest person in the group, besides Wynne who he gave the same look to. Jowan would have chalked it up to them being mages except he was just plain nervous around Morrigan same as everyone, and looked at Surana with deference.

So Jowan had no clue what Sten's problem was, specifically, but until then Jowan would not get near him to find out.

--

Surana will admit, Jowan running scared wasn't a good look, especially as they were just trees. Apparently sometimes trees just began killing sprees but either way Jowan needed to be able to fight. Not necessarily be the best at combat, but at least do something.

Except blood magic, everyone got all up in arms about that apparently.

[inverswayart]

suddenly got some mahariel thoughts, gotta let them out while they are still there (gentle reminder but if you want to know something in particular there's an ask game in pinned post! hurry while i'm still on the dragon age wave, it might not last that long)

you know how in da2 if you import mahariel as alive hof merrill says they never contacted the clan after they left? seems kinda weird, but i think it kinda works for merlin in particular, and here's why

you see, he spend his whole life leading to the dao with an underlying feeling that everyone around (exept maybe merrill) is merely tolerating his presense underneath all the nice stuff - not only he is a result of something so vile and abominable that everyone refuses to even mention it (yeah he did not pass that persuasion check with ashalle), he is also just a terrible burden: he failed to be both his father's (his magic is laughably weak, almost like it's not even there) and mother's (he has none of her hunter provess or any inclination towards fighting at all) son, he is unsuitable for proper bonding (sorry but there's no way dalish have no cultural hang-ups about sexualities, and merlin is so terribly gay) and he makes keeper sad with all of that

so when the prologue happens and merlin is told to go with duncan, all his fears basically came true - he ultimately fucked up, he let tamlen die (there's very little difference between dissappearance and death after the mirror is shattered) and failed to fix it, and became even more of a burden than he was before, and so now even the keeper, who was always so patient and forgiving with him and asked everyone to treat him nicely in spite of terrible thing with his parents, is through with him and sends him away from everyone, going so far as to lie to grey warden that merlin is a hunter and warrior. but merlin always was a dutifull child and student, so he abides with marethari's wish and leaves

but it's not the end - he somehow survives the joining and the ostagar, and now has to stop the blight, but he is a herbalist and a homekeeper, he knows little of armies and fighting (and what little he does know he picked up only to impress tamlen and spend time with him, and we know how that went) - and so he lunges at every opportunity to be usefull, to not burden his comrades so terribly, and finds zevran's arts with poisons and traps, all so familliar, and dives into them - only to find blood magic, one thing that marethari warned him against, the worst things the mage can condemn themselves too - and he finds that he is good with it, so good he can call upon demons and they answer to his will, that he can expose blood in his enemies for him to spill. not only he was never good, never enough - now he is worse, he is objectively terrible and evil thing. sure, it helps him through the blight and even grants him the victory and life, but merlin was always nothing but dutifull, and now his duty is to save his clan by never touching it with his evil ways ever again.

[bellarkeselection]

Wolf Sword - part 2

Part 1

Y/n Lannister rides into Winterfell with her husband, Jaime. But how will her family react to her return and an unexpected surprise.

Finally after a long ride on horseback we ride through the gate of Winterfell. The cold wind hits my face with small snowflakes sticking in my hair. King Robert Baratheon dismounts his horse causing everyone who lives in Winterfell to bow, following my father's actions. The family is lined up with Rickon, my mother and father, Robb, Sansa and Arya with Bran on the very end. My eyes watch the interaction before me. "Your Grace." My father rose when his king commands by the show of his gloved hand, everyone followed. "You've gotten fat." Is the kings first words to my father who eyes his friend before the pair hug chuckling. "Cat." The pair broke away to hug my mother who bowed after they hugged. He goes down the line. Shacking my eldest brother's hand. Smiling at Sansa and forgetting Arya's name. Having Bran show his muscles before he turned back to my father. "Nine years why haven't I seen ya. Where the hell have you been?" My father spoke of his duty as Warden of the North. "Guarding the North for you, your grace. Winterfell is yours." Cersei or as I should properly address her, the Queen steps out of the carriage heading to greet my parents.

Jaime lifts his helmet off shacking his golden locks about before eyeing me. I shuffle my dress skirts dismounting my horse making my sword hallster swing slightly out from under my cloak. He dismounts his horse to squeeze my hand as we slowly approach my parents. This is it the moment where I'm either rejected or loved after being away for 5 years. I curtsey before the pair as Jaime kisses my mother's outstretched hand. "My lord, my lady." I breathe out seeing my father looking me up and down. The gold and red colors of House Lannister combined with the grey and brown of House Stark. My mother does the same but makes a concerned face eyeing the sword attached to my hip. Luckily my father opened his arms gratefully and I rushed to them without a second thought. "Y/n, welcome home." I hug him back tightly clutching the furs of his cloak in laughter. "Thank you father. It's good to be back home after so long." My mother steps up to hug me as well voicing. "My darling girl. I've missed you." I broke the hug to smile sweetly at her. "I've missed you too, mother."

"So Lord Jaime have you been treating my daughter well?" My father's voice made me turn to see Jaime reply. "I have, Lord Stark. You raised a lovely daughter and between you and I she is very skilled with a sword." I immediately blush knowing my mother never approved of such things for young ladies. Sansa was always good about acting lady like. Arya on the other hand dreams of being a knight, seeing lady things as stupid. At least that is how it was wrote in the letters my mother sends me. "Yes Indeed father. But Jaime only taught me at my request to learn how to use one." My father nods seeing Jaime and I both smiling. Even though my mother doesn't fully trust my husband I can see a small smile on her face as well. Enjoyed at the sight of me being as happy with my arrangement as she has been with her own to my father for years now.

"Y/n!" Arya's young voice squeals out charging my direction and breaking the neat line. I grunt a little at her embracing me so quickly. "Arya." But I bend down on my knees to hug her reguardless. "Where's the imp?" She questioned grinning at my sword. "Tyrion is off having a few drinks before the feast." I reply ruffling her hair. "You have a sword. Can you teach me how to use one, please?" She drags out the last word a little longer tugging at my arm gently. I grin big at her desire to wield a sword reminding me of how much I remember being like her at that age. I secretly want to tell her she can do whatever she wants. But I know our mother is trying to raise her to be a proper lady not a boy. Tilling my head up to Jaime I see a huge grin on his face of our interaction. "I do believe my husband and I may have some time to teach you....out by where the servants wash the clothes." I whispered low in her ear so no one else could hear making her grin bigger.

"Arya. You shouldn't have done that!" Sansa barks but I playfully shake my head as both Bran and Rickon join in knocking me backwards into the dirt. All three aweing at my return home. "Alright, that's enough. They'll be plenty of time to play with your sister later. But she and her husband need to get ready for the feast tonight." My mother explained pulling the three to their feet and they all ran off to play. Jaime holds out his open hands pulling me to my feet gently helping me dust off my dress a little. "It's a joy to see you finally home, sister." Robb finally spoke coming to gently hug me.

"Yes. It's been awhile since I saw you last, Robb. Wasn't it a year after my wedding and you were still following me around like a lost dog." Robb chuckles and I loved hearing it once more. "Yes, well I only wanted to ensure you were safe. I am your older brother after all." I giggled at his gentleness. Robb is the oldest to everyone else except me. I was born the first Stark child but he was born the first Male so he gets to reign over Winterfell. Shortly after though I feel my head starting to spin and my stomach moans like I must have eaten something spoiled. "Y/n, darling. What ever is the matter?" I sway in my boots instantly Jaime noticed securing his arms around my waist to hold me up and I can hear the panic in his voice.

I feel like I'm about to vomit so I put a hand over my mouth mumbling out. "I don't know - I think I'm gonna be sick." My father exclaimed for Jon, his bastard son to help me as he was standing behind Sansa. "Jon help your sister!" My mother ordered Robb to tag along. "Robb, take her to the Master. I'll be up to check on her shortly!"

Jaime hands me over to my brother's arms eyeing my uneasy state with fear. I squeeze his right hand in mine before Robb carries me bridal style inside the castle. Jon opens the door to my old chambers running to fetch the old man. Robb started to lay me down but I forced myself away from him to vomit in the chamber pot on the floor. He bends on a knee holding my hair back as I puked up whatever was upsetting my stomach. Why is this happening. I know I hadn't ate anything rotten before we left the Red Keep.

Finally Jon appeared with the Master who assures both of them out at once. He helped me to lay down in the bed making sure I was done vomiting. He examines my body and asking me questions related to if I were pregnant. "When was the last time you concemated with your husband, Lord Lannister?" I croked out. "About a month ago..." He asked me next resting his hands over my stomach feeling around for something. "When was the last time you've bleed?" I bite my lip having to think for a moment. "The end of last month." The master stood exiting the room without a word to return with my mother who gently closed the door behind herself.

"Mother, what did he say?" My voice cracked when the words came out. I hope it isn't a fatal illness that has come for me. I loved Jaime and I didn't ever want to leave him. She takes a seat at my bedside after pulling up a chair, a slight smile on her face as she takes my hand in hers. "Y/n, honey everything is quite alright. Robb informed me that you puked once you got up here." I nod my head yes feeling my heart race in such concern. "Yes, I did. But what does that have to do with this?"

She rests her other hand over our intertwined ones. "Darling have you and Jaime tried to have children before?" I raise my brows at her question. Of course we had. That was the duty of a wife and Tywin Lannister was insistent we provided an heir to Casterly Rock. Although I had fallen pregnant twice during the first four years of our union but sadly I'd lost both of them. Finally Jaime and I agreed to try one last time and if I lost the child then we would discuss the news with his father. Tyrion has told me their father probably wouldn't be pleased to hear the circumstances but I haven't fallen pregnant so there hasn't been a need to worry.

My mother's smile grows bigger as she reveals with joy. "Y/n. You're with child." I hang my mouth open in shock and horror at the thought of losing another child. At the possibility of having to face a furious Tywin Lannister. But also the joy to know Jaime and I could be parents to the next lord or lady Lannister. "I'm pregnant." How will Jaime react. How will the rest of my family react.

Part 3 will be posted sooner if requested

Please comment and reblog 😊

[cdroloisms]

yk, I always thought of c!dream to perfectly fit the saying “the road to hell is paved with good intentions.” and every time I think about it I get even sadder send hepl

hello !! it’s been a bit, so sorry anon, but ty for ur patience :D 

but yeah !! that saying REALLY fits c!dream - he’s someone that has done a lot of awful, unjustifiable things, but they were all for a Reason, as much as people like to think otherwise. he’s said so before, repeatedly - it’s all for a vision of the smp as it “used to be,” one “giant family” that can be happy again. and obviously, what he does isnt right, and will never be right - but in the end it’s all in a very twisted attempt to find a home he lost, which makes his character all the more twisted and tragic, yknow? 

sometimes i wonder what an earlier dream would say, after seeing how far he’s fallen, which is what really led to this oneshot - it’s a bit messy, but i like it nonetheless. c!dream is a disaster that makes me Very Sad 

tw: derealization, implied torture, hallucinations, injuries, dark content, mentioned abuse, manipulation, emotional distress, implied suicide, panic attacks, self-hatred  

“Was it worth it?”

Dream blinks, looks up; this is new. He’s no stranger to hallucinations, of course - they’d started somewhere around the first week or two of solitary, and had only grown in frequency and duration as time went on, but this has never happened before.

The figure standing - well, sitting in front of him is hazy at the edges, indistinct, little more than a splash of green and grey, blown out at the edges by the bright white highlights from the lava lighting them from behind. Even so, Dream is all too familiar with the craftsmanship of the iron armor they wear, with the bright green hoodie tucked underneath that he’d once worn like a second skin. The figure’s face turns just enough to catch the slightest sliver of a mask.

“Well?”

“You’re me,” Dream says - breathes, really, his throat too sore for the words to be much more than a labored exhale. The other Dream turns, the lava throwing shifting shapes in orange and red all over his chestplate, his mouth visible and pulled into a frown underneath the bottom edge of the mask. Dream touches the cracked surface of the one sitting on his own face reflexively, feeling the jagged hole on its left side surrounding his eye, the edge pulled over his chin to keep as much of his face obscured as possible.

“Well, I mean,” the other Dream’s hands come to the edges of his mask, easing it over to the side of his face in a practiced motion; his eyes burn brilliantly in the dark room, green and furious and bright. “I wouldn’t exactly say that, now.”

Dream knows that this man isn’t him - well, isn’t him anymore, doesn’t have the burn scars that trail all over his body, doesn’t know the feeling of his stomach turning itself inside out in pain and emptiness, doesn’t know how it feels to have an axe dragged painfully, slowly over his skin over and over and over and over until he’s screamed his throat raw. This is the ghost of a man that has not lived and died a million times, that does not know the feeling of blood on his hands better than he does kindness, that can think of other faces and feel something other than shattered ribs and remembered pain.

“Was it worth it?” The other Dream watches him, eyebrows furrowed, insistent. It’s hard to remember that this was once him, that he has a face made of skin and muscle and bone instead of porcelain and leather even with the bruises and dried blood beneath his mask reminding him otherwise. The expressions on his face, the ones that must be on Dream’s own face, feel foreign, like they belong to someone that isn’t him. Maybe that’s the point.

“You’ll need to get more specific,” Dream’s voice cracks, throat protesting at the strain pulling at the still healing wounds from within it. Dream takes the pain, boxes it up, files it away; he’s becoming pretty good at that. “Was what worth it?”

The other man throws his arm out in an arc, gestures vaguely at the entire cell. “This! All of this- this prison, what you did to Tommy, what you did on Doomsday, what you did in the vault.” His words burn with a dangerous fury, and Dream closes his eyes. It’s not real. It’s not real. “You ruined everything! You destroyed our home! Everything is gone and it’s all your fault!”

“Don’t-” Dream’s voice cracks, shatters in on itself, and he swallows around the pain and pushes on. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the exact same thing as me.”

The other man scoffs, a fiery light dancing in his pupils. “As if. This is all your fault. You didn’t have to exile the kid. You didn’t have to blow up the community house. And you sure as hell didn’t have to manipulate a fucking teenager, you sick fuck.”

The voice morphs, overlays with the echoes of voices he hasn’t heard in what feels like an eternity. His back burns, stings; his head pounds furiously and threatens to plunge his world into darkness. Through it all, green eyes stare at him, twin flames in his ever blurrier vision, looking for all the world like a god handing down judgment.

“You know you would,” Dream mutters, each word dropping and shattering on the ground like broken glass, “if you had to sit in here for just a chance at bringing them together, you would. If you had to burn the whole damn server down for them, you wouldn’t hesitate.”

The other Dream shakes his head, teeth bared. “Don’t you dare pretend that you did this for them. Don’t you dare pretend that you don’t deserve this.”

I deserve this. I know, I know, I know. “But you would.”

The hallucination’s shoulders rise, fall; it’s hazy, shimmering from the heat, but the eyes glow ethereally and feel more real than anything in the cell.

“You’re an idiot, you know?” He laughs, and Dream tastes iron and ash and salt. “You’re so fucking stupid. You- you thought that the problem was Tommy. You blamed everything on Tommy because you couldn’t see him as anything other than the person that ruined our server and you’re so fucking stupid.”

The voice distorts, echoes in on itself; a half-hearted whisper of wrong wrong wrong rises in Dream’s mind and melts under the fury of the other’s glare. The image shimmers, shifts, and the other Dream- is he even Dream, anymore? - smiles humorlessly, stepping closer. It’s not real, Dream knows, because the image is hazy and flat and wrong but his mind echoes with the sound of shoes scuffed against obsidian and a netherite blade dragging against stone and the book, Dream, and we’ll stop-

“The real problem was you. It was always you. You were the one that ruined the server, you were the one that blew up the community house, you were the one that destroyed L’manburg. You are the one that everyone hates, that everyone fears. You are the villain, Dream, a monster. You’ve always been a monster. Now that you’re gone? The server is finally at peace. You were the problem.”

“And- well, Dream,” The figure leans over, lips right by Dream’s ear, and when they speak their voice is sweet-sharp, all-too-familiar. Quackity. “I guess you should’ve fuckin’ offed yourself when you had the chance.”

He flinches back, eyes squeezing shut, hands scrabbling around his neck. His lungs heave and he tries to suck in air but he can’t there is lava in his chest like everything inside has been torn apart like the words have ripped through him like he’s no more than wet paper and he chokes and stutters on the exhale and it’s not real it’s not real it’s not-

(That night, long after Quackity leaves with a fresh bouquet of bloodstain blooms splattered over his shirt like a field of blooming poppies, after the Warden leaves from forcing another round of health potions down his throat, Dream curls around his ribs in the back corner of his room, watching the lava fall.

Was it worth it?

He laughs, low, bitter, every inch of him feeling scaped raw and open and hollow, thinking of a world without himself in it, of a sky and earth and family with the ugly parts cut neatly away. He thinks he must be a wither skeleton, watching as everything his fingertips touch crumbles away into black rot and ash, breathes in and out and hears the same echoing rattle from deep within his chest. Was it worth it?

It must’ve been, he tells himself, even as the sound of a drop of brilliant purple magic falling against the obsidian makes his muscles seize, leaves him cowering under a blow that does not come. It must’ve been worth it, because-

What was this all for, if it wasn’t?)

[azenkii]

Suki Headcanons

because she Deserves Better Goddammit

she's three months older than sokka, making her the second oldest of the gaang (biologically, of course. chronologically, aang crushes all of them)

prefers fighting defense to offense, strangely enough, because she kicks ass at offense

her favourite weapon is her fans, closely followed by her fists. she has a katana that she can use very well, but swords in general (especially longswords) aren't really her cup of tea. daggers, on the other hand...

most of the older kyoshi warriors, including her mother, were killed at some point during a three-year-long feud with local pirates. the feud ended when suki was twelve, as did her mother's life.

her father was a passing traveller who had a one-week fling with suki's mother. by the time she found out she was pregnant, he was already long gone.

after her mother's death, suki (who was already a trainee kyoshi warrior) started training harder than ever. at fourteen, she became the youngest fully-fledged kyoshi warrior in the island's history, and then youngest leader at fifteen

she also started cutting her own hair after her mother died. this went on until she was made leader of the kyoshi warriors, and they walked in on her cutting it with a knife

her second-in-command immediately went 'nah, nuh-uh' and from then on there's been a tradition of the kyoshi warriors cutting each other's hair

she has a really high tolerance for spicy food, but she still doesn't like it

sweet food, on the other hand...

she's really good at anything involving fast fingers. knot tying? you saw what she did to the warden. braiding? on par with katara, who grew up braiding hair. weaving? she can make you a tunic in like half a day.

she has a really good douchebag radar. for instance, if she ever met jet, she would've noped out of there the second he opened his mouth

she always used to wish she had a younger sister, and now she has two?? katara and toph??? hell yeah she's gonna be the best big sister ever

being the best big sister ever is a little bit hard when katara, the designated middle sister, keeps trying to mother her. suki manages.

she's horrible at cooking. can't do it at all

also really bad at art, which is weird considering how good she is at practical crafts like weaving

she can sing pretty well. not amazing, but better than average

she's good with kids, but she doesn't like them. something about her draws them to her, but she has literally no idea what to do with them oh kyoshis flying fans katara help

when she was seven, she broke her left arm by falling out of a tree

she's a really good swimmer

she has surprisingly small hands and feet

she's left-handed

her favourite colour is actually yellow. it reminds her of daffodils and spring

she's bisexual (is this even a headcanon?) and she most definitely had a crush on her second-in-command at one point

the aforementioned second-in-command is, by the way, a year older than her

there's only one weapon she doesn't know how to use at all: the bow. this goes for crossbows too

at least with things like nunchucks she can just kinda spin them around and hope for the best, and sokka's taught her the basics of the boomerang, but she's completely clueless when it comes to bows

she's a little bit long-sighted

she hates wearing jewellery. this might come off as a little odd, considering she wears a giant golden headpiece every day, but in her eyes jewellery—especially necklaces—is nothing but an easy tool for a kidnapper

however, she does have four solid gold ear piercings, two on each ear. mostly in case she ever finds herself on the run and needs to sell something off for money

her hair tie is cut from her mother's old waist sash

her second-in-command designed the foldable wrist-shields (as seen when fighting azula) and THAT'S when suki discovered she had a thing for nerds

she hates the colour orange with a passion. not because of any fire nation related trauma, she just thinks its ugly as fuck

she was convinced her eyes were grey up until she turned eight and one of the old village ladies commented on how pretty her blue eyes were

she has an irrational hatred for the number eleven

she secretly wonders if her father was water tribe. It would explain the blue eyes.

when she was five, she wished she was an earthbender...for a grand total of five minutes, because then she saw the kyoshi warriors in action

she's cursed when it comes to things like soup and tea. no matter how long she leaves it, it's always just hot enough to scald her tongue when she takes her first big gulp

the first time she tried chi blocking, she nearly popped her knuckles out of place on ty lee's ribcage

she and toph get along scarily well. seriously. it's terrifying. those two could take over the world if they wanted to, and when katara gets added to the mix? everyone starts running.

she's a 'forgive but never forget' kind of person

has the potential to be a really good dancer, but she never learned

just. suki, y'all. she deserves more recognition

[lavellander]

hello im feeling extra “touch the stove”-y today so. i was looking for any dialogue where solas just straight up lies and (of what i could find online/transcribed, obv) i didnt find anything that was 100% untrue. he’ll completely avoid the question, change the subject, give part of the truth, etc etc etc, but nothing was just Entirely A Lie

what really gets me is that there’s a handful of convos where someone infers something from what solas says, and he will even point out that he didn’t directly say that. like, he tells people how to see through his shit, lmao

here is an embarrassingly long ass list of examples, all sorted by what kind of not-lying he’s doing lol, just bc i am unhinged<3

*note that some of these are cut from longer bits of dialogue or have been split up from one conversation into different categories*

literally just Not Answering The Question lol

Dorian: How much “will” do they have? They’re amorphous constructs of the Fade. Solas: Hmm.

Dorian: Solas, have I offended you? Solas: If you have, why would it concern you?

Dorian: Solas, what is this whole look of yours about? Solas: I’m sorry? Dorian: No, that outfit is sorry. What are you supposed to be, some kind of woodsman? Dorian: Is it a Dalish thing? Don’t you dislike the Dalish? Or is it some kind of statement? Solas: No.

Dorian: Let me get this straight, Solas. Dorian: You’re an apostate – neither Dalish nor city elf – who lived alone in the woods studying spirits. Solas: Is that a problem for you?

Solas: [has a whole tactical moment about the red jennies lmao] Sera: Where d’you get all this, then? Solas: Do you wish to be unnerved by another tale of my explorations of the Fade? Or do you wish to learn something?

Vivienne: You must be pleased with what was revealed at the Temple of Mythal, Solas. Solas: Why should those ruins please me, Enchanter?

changing the subject before he backs himself into a corner

Gatt: I don’t see any tattoos, but you’re carrying a staff. Are you from a Chantry Circle? Solas: No. And I would prefer not to discuss it.

Solas: I find the fall of the dwarven lands confusing. Varric: What’s so confusing about endless darkspawn? Solas: A great deal, although that is a different matter.

giving the truth, but not the whole truth

Blackwall: Skyhold. How did you find it? Solas: I looked. Blackwall: Now you sound like Cole. You looked? Solas: This world is full of wonders for those who seek them.

Blackwall: You spoke of seeing death and destruction. Did you fight in a war? Solas: There are struggles across Thedas at any given time. I doubt you would have heard of it. Blackwall: An elven skirmish? Solas: In a manner of speaking, yes.

Cassandra: Solas, have you always lived alone? Out in the wilderness, as an apostate? Solas: For the most part.

Cassandra: Have you ever encountered templars before? Solas: Only at a distance. I am an apostate, after all. Cassandra: And they never caught you even once? Solas: I am a very careful apostate.

Dorian: We found elves, living ancient elves, at the Temple of Mythal. Does that bother you, Solas? If Inquisitor allied with the Sentinels: Solas: I am pleased we were not forced to kill them, if that’s what you mean.

Iron Bull: You’ve got an odd style, Solas. Your spells are a bit different from the Circle mages or the Vints. Solas: That comes from being self-taught. Solas: I discovered most of my magic on my own, or learned it from my journeys in the Fade.

Vivienne: So, an apostate? Solas: That is correct, Enchanter. I did not train in your Circle.

Solas: You are a man who made a choice... possibly the first of your life. Iron Bull: I’ve always liked fighting. What if I turn savage, like the other Tal-Vashoth? Solas: You have the Inquisition, you have the Inquisitor... and you have me.

from cutscene at beginning Inquisitor: [mentions the anchor closing a rift] Solas: Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake – and it seems I was correct.

from cutscene at beginning Solas: [to a Dalish Inq] You are Dalish, but clearly away from the rest of your clan. Did they send you here? Inquisitor: What do you know of the Dalish? Solas: I have wandered many roads in my time, and crossed paths with your people on more than one occasion. Inquisitor: [Crossed paths? dialogue choice] Solas: I mean that I offered to share knowledge, only to be attacked for no greater reason than their superstition.

from “I’d like to know more about you” convo in Haven Inquisitor: What made you start studying the Fade? Solas: I grew up in a village to the north. There was little to interest a young man, especially one gifted with magic. But as I slept, spirits of the Fade showed me glimpses of wonders I had never imagined. I treasured my dreams. Being awake, out of the Fade, became troublesome.

actually telling the truth but no one picks up on the gravity of it

Solas: [...] I believe the elven gods existed, as did the old gods of Tevinter. But I do not think any of them were gods, unless you expand the definition of the word to the point of absurdity. I appreciate the idea of your Maker, a god that does not need to prove his power. I wish more such gods felt the same. Cassandra: You have seen much sadness in your journeys, Solas. Following the Maker might offer some hope. Solas: I have people, Seeker. The greatest triumphs and tragedies this world has known can all be traced to people.

Cole: No, inside. I don’t hear your hurt as much. Your song is softer, subtler, not silent but still. Solas: How small the pain of one man seems when weighted against the endless depths of memory, of feeling, of existence. That ocean carries everyone. And those of us who learn to see its currents move through life with their fewer ripples.

Cole: You didn’t do it to be right. You did it to save them. Inquisitor: Solas, what is Cole talking about? Solas: A mistake. One of many made by a much younger elf who was certain he knew everything.

Solas: Empires rise and fall. Arlathan was no more “innocent” than your own Tevinter in its time. Solas: Your nostalgia for the ancient elves, however romanticized, is pointless.

Solas: Our people used to be here. Sera: Pfft, you say that everywhere. Solas: It is more true than you want to believe.

Vivienne: You must be pleased, apostate. With the Templars dissolved, your rebels will be most difficult to pacify. Solas: My rebels? Am I an agent for their cause, whispering poison into the Inquisition’s ears? Solas: How comforting. Vivienne: You enjoy seeing yourself as a villain? Solas: No more than any other clever man who wonders what he could do if pushed.

Vivienne: [about the Temple of Mythal] Now you know the elves were once a mighty nation. Solas: I always knew, Enchanter. The Temple of Mythal is just another reminder of what was lost.

(in the Emerald Graves): These forests have changed much since I was last here.

during the Fade!Haven cutscene Solas: It seems you hold the key to our salvation. You had sealed it with a gesture... and right then, I felt the whole world change. Inquisitor: [romance option] “Felt the whole world change?” Solas: A figure of speech. Inquisitor: I’m aware of the metaphor. I’m more interested in felt. Solas: You change... everything.

pointing out that people assume he means things he did not directly say

Cole: There is pain though, still within you. Solas: And I never said there was not.

Solas: You may well become fully human, after all. I never thought to see it. Cole: When did you see it before? Solas: I did not say that I had.

Iron Bull: We’ve got the alliance with my people. Given how much you love the Qun, I figured... Solas: I might scold you? Berate you for your decisions? Iron Bull: Hey. The Chargers died as heroes for the good of the mission. Solas: I never said otherwise.

Sera: Don’t you start. Solas: I’m reasonably certain I said nothing.

Vivienne: [talking shit about grey warden mages] Solas: I never claimed mages should be above the law, Enchanter. Vivienne: No, darling. You merely implied it, while offering no viable suggestions for improvement.

after infamous “side benefits” dialogue Warrior Inquisitor: You find my muscles enjoyable? Solas: I meant that you enjoyed having them, presumably. Warrior Inquisitor: Ah. Solas: But yes... since you asked.

diminishing things he does actually know by saying he he “believes” or “thinks,” or that things were vaguely “said” or “told”

Solas: I say what I believe to be true, even if it gives offense to those who prefer the lie.

Dorian: That orb Corypheus carries... are you certain it’s of elven origin, Solas? Solas: I believe so. Why do you ask?

Solas: It is said that we lived at a pace that sustained us for... ages.

making it sound like he’s talking about something/someone else, but it’s just him lmao

Cole: Do you know a lot about wolves? Solas: I know that they are intelligent, practical creatures that small-minded fools think of as terrible beasts.

Solas: No man can kill so many people without breaking inside. To survive... those you fight must become monsters. Iron Bull: The ones that kill innocent people, yeah. The rest... I don’t know. Solas: The mind does marvelous things to protect itself.

during In Hushed Whispers Inquisitor: I’m glad you understood what he just said because I’m not sure I did. Solas: You would think such understanding would stop me from making such terrible mistakes. You would be wrong.

misc

this one i wanted to include because it’s the only circumstance (that i came across) where someone directly asks solas to lie and he literally says he can’t

during the fucking crestwood breakup scene Inquisitor: [angry option] Tell me you don’t care. Solas: I can’t do that. Inquisitor: Tell me I was some casual dalliance so I can call you a cold-hearted son of a bitch and move on! Solas: I’m sorry.

*also note that most of these are banter transcriptions from the wiki; some are cutscene / other dialogue posted by either @/daitranscripts or u/karinini on reddit; it’s not all his cutscenes obv, but I’m not about to look up every single one individually sdlkfj*

[wild-houseplant]

The basics- Rhodri Amell

[id: Rhodri, a Grey Warden (physical description in post) in yellow mage robes, is standing in a Chantry with Templars in the background. She is frowning quizzically, and her mabari, Jeppe, is to her right. The dog has black kaddis on its face and body in stripes. /end id]

I got tagged by @heniareth​, who showed off the super-cool Astala Tabris, and now for my part, I bring a lengthy Rhodri information snippet. Thanks heaps for the tag, friendo! :D :D And now I will tag... @ash-soka, @m-m-m-myysurana, @rlainarin, @atypicalacademic (if you fancy? Maybe Tatiana Amell? or anyone else really; I am madly in love so very many of your OCs), @mango-mage, @icy-warden, @stylographic-blue-rhapsody​ and anyone whose name isn’t here, I still wanna see your OC, I’m just absent-minded! (or maybe a friend you haven’t met? :) ) Go ahead and tag me! :D :D

deets under the cut; this one, like everything I do about Rhod, is long.

Character’s name: Severin Rhodri Amell Callistus (Rhodri to most)

Role in story: Hero of Ferelden, Primary Dickhead (role conferred by yours truly)

Age: 20 when the First Blight begins in 9:30 Dragon 

Physical description:

Rhodri is tallish (for an AFAB who spent the last twelve years underfed), very pale, has grey eyes and short, stick-straight black hair. Her sharp, angular facial features and very muscular physique give her an intimidating and distinctly androgynous appearance. Arched brows, a grecian nose (think Fenris) and frequently forgetting to smile further compound this situation, and give her an extreme case of resting bitch face. She has long, almost spidery fingers and toes, long arms and legs, and, though her large muscles mostly conceal it now, she is slightly bow-legged.

MBTI/Enneagram Personality Type:

Her MBTI type is ENFJ (though she tends to be much more joyful and flippant than the description would suggest). Similarly, her Enneagram type is Type 1- The Reformer.

Internal Life

What is their greatest fear?

After a lifetime of being reminded that she has a ridiculous amount of power over others as a Magister’s heir, along with plenty of stigma for the unintentional but fairly sizeable number of social mistakes she makes, Rhodri lives in terror of causing harm to others-- intentionally, or unintentionally.

Inner motivation:

Her sense of justice. To Rhodri, the act of making things right, maintaining goodness, preventing harm, is to show devotion and care at its highest level.

Kryptonite:

Awareness of suffering. Of others because they deserve better and she needs to fix it; and of her own, because she knows she isn’t allowed to share that sort of thing with others-- cue intensifying feelings of aloneness.

What is their misbelief about the world?

That with the right argument, everyone will be equally ready to do the right thing. I don’t think it ever really goes away properly, maybe reduces slightly to fervent hope.

Lesson they need to learn:

That perhaps not everything her father taught her was correct, even if he said it with all the conviction and good intentions he had.

What is the best thing in their life?

Her loved ones. Easy one.

What is the worst thing in their life?

Being forced to confront horrific things with the expectation that her feelings are kept hidden and take least priority. She finds that hard to cope with at times, particularly when many things that bring her comfort (various stimming things such as rocking) are frowned upon.

What do they most often look down on people for?

Insistence on maintaining unacceptable viewpoints (e.g. racism, magephobia, the idea that harassment is perfectly acceptable, being nasty to Tranquils, children, or any vulnerable person).

What makes his/her/their heart feel alive?

Combining something/someone she likes with enjoyable sensory input, e.g. watching a sunset with a glass of fruit nectar, a lively dance with a friend, rocking in a rocking chair with Zevran draped over her.

What makes them feel loved, and who was the last person to make them feel that way?

Rhodri’s easy to please, all things considered. No need for gifts or fancy gestures; as she navigates through life, a little bit of gentleness and patience are all it takes for her heart to put down roots. All of her companions are able to do this to a degree, but not quite as well as Zevran, who is replete with both and actively wants the devotion she readily offers in return.

Top three things they value most in life?

People, knowledge, virtuousness. The rest falls into place with those things in balance (according to her).

External Life

Is there an object they can’t bear to part with and why?

The schedule Duncan wrote down for her to help her cope during the rough transition from regimented Circle life to unpredictable Grey Warden life. She keeps it for the rest of her life and has transcribed copies of it on the first page of several notebooks as a reminder of his kindness.

Describe a typical outfit for them from top to bottom:

Her hair is just long enough to sit in a ponytail, and is often done with a traditional Tevinter undercut, when she can manage it. In keeping with Tevinter standards of modesty (the more you cover, the more you have to lose), she isn’t seen outside the home (or tent/room at the inn) without a robe that covers everything but her head, hands, and toes. Eschewing expensive clothes where she can, the robe is usually simple and black (no such thing in game, unfortunately :( ), and underneath she wears comfortable clothing a plain cotton tunic and breeches. Her boots are a size too large, because tight shoes are sensory hell for her. She keeps her clothing scrupulously clean and tidy, and in good repair.

What names or nicknames have they been called throughout their life?

By her father: Severissimus (a play on her name, Severin, ‘severissimus’ means, ‘(my) most severe one.’) By any non-Tevinter: Rhodri By any Tevinter: Severin By her siblings (when they are asking her to take them for ice cream etc): Indulgeeeeeentis (used by people affectionately appealing to someone with greater authority, ‘indulgentis’ means, ‘one who indulges me.’) By Alistair: Rhod By Zevran: My Warden, Rhodri, later on: mi Rhodri (’my Rhodri’, her personal favourite), mi sol (’my sun’), amore, my love. A number of offensive names, largely by Templars and snide people. The one she takes particular umbrage to is ‘Tranquil,’ a term used in my worldstate to mock and offend autistic people, as she is firmly against the mistreatment of Tranquil mages.

What is their method of manipulation?

Nonexistent. She is firm and clear about what she wants, and if a suitable compromise isn’t reached, then she takes request elsewhere.

Describe their daily routine:

[The paper is crumpled and yellowing, torn in some corners, but folded neatly. The writing is simple but tidy.] Daily schedule for Rhodri 1. Wake up, attend to body [the writer is referring to hygiene and other self-care], get dressed. 2. Make tea, eat breakfast, discuss the day ahead. 3. Pack up camp, extinguish the fire, and begin travelling. Kill darkspawn as necessary, discuss new skills, make conversation if desired. Hydrate throughout. 4. Brief stop, attend to body, eat. 5. Continue travelling. Kill darkspawn as necessary, discuss new skills, make conversation if desired. Hydrate throughout. 6. Stop, set up camp, collect wood and light campfire, prepare and eat dinner. Review plans, discuss new skills, make conversation if desired. Pursue own interests. 7. Extinguish fire, attend to body, sleep. When we reach a town, we will stay at an inn instead of making camp. They will provide our food, and after breakfast, prior to departure, we will buy more from the market to take with us. You are welcome to ask me questions or come to me at any time of the day or night. Please tell me if you are going somewhere Adjust this as needed. You are doing very well. From Duncan

Their go-to cure for a bad day?

A solution. Finding a way to prevent a repeat of the bad things where possible, to minimise the damage of the inevitable things. That’s enough to turn her mood around, but for Ultimate Comfort to ease the fatigue away, something familiar is always welcome- e.g. an hour to spend on a special interest (usually magic), snuggling up with someone. If it’s been unspeakably bad, she’ll magic herself asleep to avoid a meltdown.

Goals

How are they dissatisfied with their life?

She hates that the life planned out for her is not moving in a linear fashion. She was meant to go to the Circle in Tevinter and live with her family there, but her magic came early and the templars in Kirkwall packed her off to Ferelden. Her mother disappeared; she was about to receive the official appointment of Enchanter in the Fereldan Circle after having been one in every other sense for years, and her transfer to the Minrathous Circle (her father pulled many strings for that) was almost ready when Jowan played on her naïveté and forced her conscription as a Warden. Rhodri was content to come into magehood in her home in Minrathous, be paired off with a nice young man when she was ready, have a brood of estimable offspring, and be the head of House Callistus, eventually representing said house as a Magister. To say there have been bumps in the path is an understatement, and secretly, she is not pleased about it.

What would bring them true happiness or contentment?

She’s pretty good at finding true happiness or contentment wherever she is, but above all, she wants to be back in Tevinter with her loved ones. The knowledge that her mother had been found alive and (quite) well would have been an enormous relief for her during the Blight, too.

What definitive step could they take to turn their dream into a reality?

I mean she could’ve just chucked in the Grey Warden  towel and fucked off home, couldn’t she. Nah, all she needs to do is keep going, get the duty stuff out of the way and get out before any more requests can be piled onto her.

How has their fear kept them from taking this action already?

No fear, just bad timing. Jowan betrayed her. The Darkspawn are bona fide dickheads, and the Archdemon even more so. Then the Darkspawn get smarter and actively plan to overrun orchards and commit murder. Her husband has to go and look death in the eye. The girl can’t get a break.

How do they feel they can accomplish their goal while still steering clear of the thing they are afraid of?

She just keeps on as she always does. Rhodri is nothing if not perseverant. How does she get the energy for it, one asks? Zevran subtly gestures at a small heap of smutty letters he has sent her before laughing it off and beginning an hour-long seminar, during which he reads off a list of her finest qualities. At the end of the session, he picks up the pile of letters and waves them indicatively, and is promptly carried out of the room by the recipient of said letters. Rhodri’s face is red. Zevran’s face is shining.

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