#i love them so much that i designed her as a human circle mage in dai so she could properly romance cullen

[elliot-ayy]

a private moment between friends

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

Hey Hey Ed So y'know how we were getting a little unhinged the other night? Well GOOD NEWS it's friday and I have an oc x oc prompt for you!!

For some Tal & Hamin, "The dark collects our empties, empties our ashtrays. ([The dark collects…], Ben Lerner)" from the poetry prompts list.

OKAY SO I DID MY BEST WITH THIS ONE. I am new to Hamin so please if I made any character errors, lemme know and I would be happy to fix. But also I love them and think they would make great friends so long as Tal isnt trying to kill her LOL uwu Anyway, enjoy!

for @dadrunkwriting

Rated G: Tension and mild violence, ~1.5k words

Stained by Ash and Darkness | By Exalted_Dawn

“There is someone watching you.” 

The warning floated in the dark corners of Hamin’s mind, a low roll like thunder on the horizon. Hamin stilled, her hands going to rest upon the hilt of one dagger. She had specifically picked this route to avoid enemies. The lower valleys were flooded with dueling mages and templars– too much of a death trap to be worth the convenience of the roads. And besides, the sound of all the fighting had scared most of the game away regardless. 

“An enemy?” she murmured, praying instead that it was simply a lost kid in the woods. 

There was a pause. 

“I am unsure. They hide amongst the trees, but they are alone, and… they do not seem to be like the rest.”

A rogue bandit perhaps? Fuck, but she really hoped it wasn’t a templar. The last thing she needed was for some deserter to try their hand at easier pickings for food and coin and get close enough to find out she was a mage. 

Hamin kneeled, playing pretend at having found some fungi for harvest. If they were a threat, it would be better if they still thought themselves unnoticed. At least for a little while– long enough until she could get away “How far back?” 

“About thirty… maybe forty feet back. They are hard to follow.” 

That close? Hamin’s brow furrowed.

Even with the din of the forest and the far away battles, she should have been able to hear the crunching of leaves of the drag of a lazy step. Especially if they were wearing armor. But as she stood and began walking again– listening– she heard nothing at all. Ten feet. Fifty. And still not a sound. Without the ghost, she doubted she would have picked up on the presence of her tail at all. And thatshe hadn’t been told otherwise likely meant they were probably still following her.

She ground her teeth. 

Fuck her poor luck harder than a bear in heat. Why did this have to happen to her now, when she was so far out from the scouting camps?

Thinking quickly, Hamin chanced a few more measures of length before ducking behind a small bend of trees and skirting her way down a sharp drop off in the rocks. It was a steep hill, and she could feel loose gravel giving way beneath her feet, threatening to either shred them or trip her. But she was willing to take either of those odds against possibly going back to the Circle. She was free now, and free she would stay. 

Coming to a stumbling stop at the base of the hill, she took off in a full on sprint. They may not have been her woods, but she would still wager she knew them better than any human at least. 

The world was a blur of verdant waves as she ran, launching over twisted roots and around thistle bushes. She was swallowed up by swaying shadows, a veil of the forest’s weaving. But still, she heard nothing. Not a clank or a clamor or a shout. Certainly no curse words thrown at her. Huffing hard, she did not dare look back.

“Are they still following me?” she cried out loud, ducking beneath a low branch.

“Yes, but-”

Suddenly, there was a dagger stuck into the wood of the tree in front of her, right where her head had been. It thrummed still with the power of the throw, but that is not what caught her attention most. The design– she recognized it. Ironbark, carved with a rune for- 

“Ah tits-!”

She dodged backwards, just in time for the tree to explode into a shower of wood and lightning. But even if she had evaded that attack, she realized too late she had made an error in backpedaling. Before she could turn to right her balance, there was a knife held tight against her throat, another pressed into her gut. Whoever stood at her back was roughly her height– their mouth perfectly level against her ear to hear the hissed insult.

“Thief.” 

She turned her face to see stark gold eyes. A sweep of dark hair. Gaunt features. Ash smudged cheeks. And Mythal’s vallaslin beneath. A Dalish elf. But what had she meant by-?

There was a slicing noise as the kill she had collected a few hours was cut free from her belt, the lack of weight causing her to stumble a little and cut her skin against the sharpened knife blade. 

Hamin winced, straightening her neck away from the dagger, stumbling over her words. “H-Hold, lethallan. Aneth’ara. I am of clan Virnehn. A hunter, not a thief.” They were spat in quick succession, hoping to sway the elf before she decided to cut her throat for having wandered too close. 

Just to prove her harmlessness, she lifted her hands away from her belt, where her own knives still sat sheathed. She wanted no confrontation today, especially not with someone who had her weapons to Hamin’s throat. 

“If I stole from you, then it was unintentional. I was sent to empty Inquisition traps,” she explained. “I must have made a mistake.” Even though she was nearly certain she hadn’t. If it had been a Dalish trap, she would have recognized the make of it, she was pretty sure. 

She chanced another glance over her shoulder when she did not receive an answer. The elf was studying her suspiciously, eyes flicking between her face and her weapons belt. Now that Hamin had a bit of a clearer look, she could tell that the woman was more than just a bit gaunt. The darkness clung to the ridges of her protruding bones, and her clothes, which hung loose on her frame, were almost entirely smothered in scorch marks and ash. 

…The victim of one of the mage skirmishes then. And a very malnourished one at that. 

“The shems are reckless to throw their magic around as they have been,” she tried, forcing herself to meet the woman’s sharp gaze. “They’ve been setting the forests on fire, and scaring off all the game. Scorching and starving out the woods. If you like, I can build a fire and we can share that. I can also heal you if you need…” 

The voice in her head piped up, wary. “Hamin. It is not wise-”

She did it anyway, letting a bit of mana flicker to her fingers. What else was there left to lose, if she could not convince the woman to let her go?

“I’m a friend. I promise. So, sathan, if you could let me go?” Green eyes met gold, reflected in the canopy above them both. A bit of sun poked through, shining dappled light on the woman’s cheeks. A light, plum colored purple, and not the black of the forests’ shadows she had assumed them to be. 

There was a single, tense motionless second where she thought she might have blown it. That perhaps, out of safety, the other elf might assume she was simply an elven apostate, among the number who have been causing so much chaos and destruction in the lands below, and choose to kill her anyway. It is what most Dalish might have done, to protect their clans, but as she breathed in, and then out in one, strained exhale, the hold on her neck loosened, and then retreated all together. 

She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Serannas,” she said, turning as she touched the nick at her throat and sealed it with a spell. “May I have your name?” 

There was still mistrust in the woman’s gaze as she watched. A flickering in her eyes.

“Where is your vallaslin?” the stranger asked, speaking with the all-too-familiar lilt of the People. 

Well that was a fair question, she supposed. “A long story– and one better told around a fire, if you wouldn’t mind it.” 

Slowly, the woman lowered her guard, and sheathed her daggers at her belt. Barely, she tilted her head in a nod. 

Hamin walked up to the tree that had been partially blown to bits and tugged the dagger free from its center. It was undented– a beautiful work of woodcarving and smithing. She flipped the small dagger in her hand and then held it out to the woman. Tentatively, she tried again. “Andaran Atishan. I am Meldiriel of clan Virnehn, but I go by Hamin.” 

Equally as hesitant, the woman extended her hand and took the knife. “Talenna, formerly of clan Ethera. Now, though, I am clanless.” 

Clanless? Then they were alike. 

She nodded. “Well, Talenna, if you would allow me, I would like to offer you my help.”

Another second passed, and then surprisingly, Talenna scoffed. “I would prefer your food, but… I will not deny help when it is offered.” 

A small smile twitched to her lips. “I will prepare the rabbit if you build the fire?”

Talenna nodded. “It is a deal.”

[chtozaepta]

I love your OCs with the horns and tails! And all of your non human OCs, if you want could you maybe say a bit about their characters and the world they live in? Only if you want to (also I'm obsessed with your art, you really are a pillar of shaperaverse fan community on Tumblr)

Oooooh this gonna be lömg!

First of all, thank you I’m glad you like them :> These are characters from an original comic I’m about to post (the first chapter is almost ready), but this race does not appear in the main plot for some time, so I can say a few things without spoiling anything. I know it’s not a very original design, I mean, duh, who doesn’t have horns and tails right 🌚 So anyway, these guys are called yáve, and they are like… feral elves in a way. They live in forests/tundras in big clans and build funky colorful térems, mostly out of wood bc permafrost.

They looove all things colorful and worship the spirits of nature. The huge pink moth/dragon/reindeer guy? That’s one of them.

His/her name is Menerik and he/she is essentially a god(ess) of Northern Lights, the Moon, madness and magic. He/she is very coherently genderfluid, the gender depending on the moon faze. During the full moon she is a female entity, and when it’s a crescent he is considered male. On the new moon it is forbidden to speak of him. Fun fact - this also is reflected in their language, based on Russian, where a word for “moon” is feminine, and “crescent” is masculine). Since Menerik is a he for the most time, that’s what I would usually call him.

Most yave are mortal, their lifespan being close to humans, but there are two ways for them to achieve a sort of immortality. First is joining the Circle of Memories, an order that keeps their knowledge, culture and traditions and become essentially immortal through a ritual, and another way is becoming a mage and learning the ways to prolong life through contact with spirits. Any yave who starts learning magic is introduced to the spirits on the thinner layer of reality and give up their birth name, color and gender. Their new name they choose themselves, their new color is given by the spirits, and from the moment they start learning magic they are all non-binary, body and soul. All this “immortality” tho is really just a longer life, because they can still be killed, fall sick or get cursed, so there is hardly anyone older than 200 years there. There are rumors about mages over a thousand years old, but that’s spoiler territory)

Some stuff here is *very loosely* based on siberian shaman practices, some names and words borrowed from siberian folklore.

Some of the yave characters I’ve drawn so far:

There’s Chanava, the purple witch with blue horns, around 20 years or so; they will probably appear in the comic. They are a mage, and also joined the Circle, but neither have given them immortality or enough power. Not that they are desperate, just very curious.

Aravellane, their uuum king? Tsar? Prince? Whatever. The one in the crown and a blue fur coal a few posts earlier. A mage, but prefers he/him; he has a blade that can make whatever cut without killing you. Some say, he cut his own heart out with it once to stop feeling sad feelz, and the heart ran away, because he treated it terribly. Since then, an endless winter covered his part of land, and if it weren’t for the mages and trade of diamonds they mine, they’d all be very much fucked.

Myándush, the head of the Circle of Memories. Öld, woise, mistürios, all that. Speaks in riddles. Has a beef with Aravelle, though why, no one can tell.

Ryt’kheo - dabbles in magic, but is not officially introduced to the spirits. Makes airboats, which is basically a boat with a magic sail that can get it into air. The sails he weaves from wool and puts in threads of Menerik’s mane. He is considered one of the coolest craftsmen among the yavi, and everyone wants a flying boat, so he is always very fucking tired and 100% done. Random fact - a “Ryt’kheo” is not a name, it really means “Unnamed”. It is used to address someone who has already given up their name but have not yet taken a new one.

Harrahaye - Ryt’kheo’s brother, not much to say about him except that he is a pain in the ass. I’m still fleshing out their characters, so there you go x)

There is another one, who is more or less complete, but they will appear in the comic and are quite important, so all the info will be there 😌✨

[greypetrel]

Elfroot and Prophet's Laurel. Still a wip!

Playing around with more Lavellan designs, and considering whether to just pop Radha in the fic because I quite like her.

A doodle of the GANG, and more background rambling under the cut!

Aisling was adopted by the Lavellan at 6. The First, Pavyn, was 14 at the time, and when it was clear that his sister Radha, 9 by then, was showing no magical talent, Keeper Deshanna decided to take another little blorbo in.

The three grew up together, with Pavyn showing off to little "Shrimp" and acting like the good elder brother who always know better and is such a cool, talented person (he was talented, but believed talent is enough and would rather enjoy life and youth and spend time with people rather than staying in and studying, Deshanna had to run after him and force him to exercise). Radha, on the contrary, was very introverted and reserved: she never cared much for magic and never regretted not having developed magic. She always was the quiet, reserved person who prefer to stay in the sidelines, observe and gather informations to use later more than being in the front and leading. She's not so trusting and will question and suspect your intentions until she's certain you're trustworthy… Once she does, tho, you're friends for life, and she'll be very protective. She tagged along with her brother and treated Aisling like the third sibling, and loved to learn and read for the sake of it.

The dynamic between the three changed when Aisling, after years of studying hard and exercising a lot (putting into her studies all the frustration of a teen with a desperate crush over a clan member that EVERYONE knows about, crush included) got her Vallaslin and was named First right after, snatching the place from Pavyn who was still slacking up and yes, was more popular in the clan but not so capable and in control as a mage. It was the shock Pavyn needed to start taking things seriously, and in the following years he caught up… Or would have if Aisling wasn't constantly studying and practicing on her own, because if Science Bros were not formed yet, she did the same on her own. Radha was in the middle, not really taking a side and exposing harsh truth to each of them. She still speaks little, but when she does every word is carefully weighted and meant, and she's not afraid to speak her mind. Not the best hunter around, but she was a valuable presence when trading with humans, firm and unshakeable and capable of diplomacy without letting others put her in a corner. A thing that Aisling always looked up to.

When in Haven Aisling replied to the "Contact clan Lavellan" mission with something extremely dry and caustic, and the Keeper read it as weird and suspicious coming from miss "I can't mask my emotions if you pay me for it and I will cry when I need to thank you very much", Radha was sent south to investigate and, eventually, get Aisling back north if she was indeed held there against her will and closed in some sort of Circle.

She stayed in the Inquisition, acting first as basically the guard dog to her little sister and having all the Inner Circle spend a nasty ten minutes when she had to make sure no one was there to exploit her, and then became a respected member of the organisation, when she decided to stay there.

[gxldencity]

6 for the veilguard asks as well!

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

I got way too attached to my main tav from BG3 that she's just going to be my main rook for DA4 and that automatically means that she comes with a backstory already, just adapting it to Dragon Age/Thedas

Her name is Dolores and she is the saddest girl in the world (again) 🥺. She's gonna be an elf(-blooded) mage. Here's how she looks like in the dd2 CC!

I wrote up her back story here and HERE for random thoughts comparing her rs with her brother in BG3 and dragon age but basically stopped before she got into tevinter and her backstory for That depends on what we get for the shadow dragons back story lol. The tl;dr is she's was a circle mage till the circles ceased to exist and bc she was 16 at the time, she basically followed her teacher where she went until her 11 year old brother's latent dreamer powers awakened and now she has no choice but to take him to tevinter and has been living there ever since lmao.

Other rooks planned:

Georgie - another BG3 expat, my evil durge but she's not evil this time! Idk about her yet in part bc so much of her backstory hinges on BG3 specific plot threads that cant be adapted in dragon age lmao. Except she's a rogue grey warden and was a chantry sister at some point lol.

Peep at her design in BG3

Unnamed mourn watcher warrior (idk the lineage lmao)- uhhh.....I loved the locked tomb so much that for emmrich romance I am bAsically trying to recreate the cavalier/necromancer romance with them. A himbo, not very bright but he likes swords.

Crow human rogue who's Dolores's cousin and whose the known gossiper of the Crows lmao. Knows every drama that's happening among the houses.

Kidlat - elf probably mage viel jumper, my OG da4 oc before I got attached to dolores lmao. They're an ethical blood mage (bc they use only animal blood 😤) but I gotta figure out what their spec is bc no blood mage

[icharchivist]

I'd definitely love to see the character you create

omg....

all my screenshots are on my harddrive so i can really access only to them

and also yeah the designs look similar enough lmao i'll def try to do different things next time. maybe.

Dragon Age: Origins

Kurai Mahariel, a Warrior Dalish Elf who romanced Alistair. Headstrong but gentle, she took into her new job as the Warden diligently, head standing high as the remembered her people back home.

Laven Tabris, a Rogue City Elf who romanced Zevran. Cocky and impulsive, her circumstances made her more abrasive and she won't hesitate to intimidate people rather than taking the peaceful route. Punch first ask question later type.

Lyra Amell, a Circle Mage Human who romanced Leliana. Teasing and calculating, she approaches most situations lightly, going at the beat of her own drums, unless it is about magic where she takes the severity of everything very seriously.

Ellaria Cousland, a Human Noble Apostate. (i used a mod to make it possible), who romanced Alistair. Ngl i did this specifically because i kept hearing the Cousland and Alistair's romance was so good. And i hated every second of it LDKJFKDLFJ Ellaria came out as extremely ruthless and angry, bloodthirsty in her revenge. She doesn't care much for what is at hand as long as she can screw over the people who screwed HER family over.

They're all about 20yo.

Dragon Age 2

Mara Hawke, A Human Rogue who romanced Anders, Diplomatic Personality. Trying to do everything to keep her little sister safe, she involved herself with the mage rebellion trying to navigate every situation analysing how much she needs to nudge people in the right direction. However she will be cutthroat and not tolerate it if people try to use her. Let's say one of the final choice of the game didn't go well with her temperament.

Ariel Hawke, A Human Apostate Mage who romanced Fenris, Charismatic Personality. As the illegal mage, Ariel takes everything lightly in order to lay low. Invested in the Mage Resistance still and really caring for her friends, she still puts her family first even if there's tension with her brother. Personification of "if i make jokes through a bad situation at least this would turn into a joke."

I replayed Ariel many time lmao both are 22 when the plot starts.

Dragon Age: Inquisition

Leana Trevelyan, Ex-Circle Mage & Human Noble who romanced Cullen. Careful and Anxious, the whole burden of having to lead the Inquisition is just one alarm after the other to her. basically *screaming inside* type of person.

She's 28 at the beginning of the game. I replayed this route a few times.

Ithena Lavellan, Mage Dalish Elf and Ex Apprentice Keeper, who romanced Solas. As an apprentice to the Keeper she always tried to stay level headed and trying to approach every situation with wisdom and curiosity and also a huge respect for her culture. She wears the Vallaslin of Mythal as a reminder of being understanding but also Just.

She's 30 at the beginning of the game. I keep replaying this route lmao.

Renan Lavellan, Mage Dalish Elf and Ex Apprentice Keeper, who i was planning to romance either Dorian or Cassandra with, but i didn't go far into this specific playthrough. I don't really know the grasp i have on his personality because of that. Probably teasing and Charismatic considering who i decided he should date but mhmmmmm i'll see if i ever continue this playthrough. IDK his bday but since Dorian is 29 and Cassandra 36 i'll probably have him stand in the middle until i sort my things out

Other Things

And that's my characters for ya 🫡 in term of beliefs i keep choosing my own morality level lmao, so it's still mostly Pro-Mage/Pro-Elves and all sort of things like that.

Also i heavily use mods, esp for the haircuts, so don't worry about it.

My Main Timeline when i go into DAI is Lyra as the Warden and Ariel as the Hawke, but i've planned for my first DA4 playthrough to use as a background Laven, Ariel, and Ithena.

so yeah 🫡 the more u know!

[annalyticall]

Thoughts on Dragon Age: Inquisition

Other Dragon Age Thoughts: Dragon Age: Origins | Dragon Age 2 Part 1 | Dragon Age 2 Part 2

It's done!

Going into Inquisition I was aware of two things: one, that it heavily revolved around the theme of faith, and two, that Solas was the villain somehow. I didn't know much more beyond that, so I was excited to learn that by playing an elf mage I was going to be playing a Dalish First like Merrill was, instead of a circle elf like my Surana. This gave me more narrative threads to follow since I was originally only planning on exploring the question of faith from the viewpoint of a mage (a continuation of Anders' influence, I suppose) but ended up exploring much more the question of warring faiths - faith in the Maker and faith in the elven gods.

My Inquisitor was Eva Lavellan, a soft-spoken yet fun-loving First dedicated as much to preserving elven culture as she was to finding peace with her human neighbors, doing her best to balance the honor of their past and the betterment of their future. While she never claimed to be Herald of Andraste, she didn't deny it either, hoping the title would give humans enough faith to rally behind an elven hero. It wasn't until her experience in the Fade and the Well of Sorrows that she realized the Chantry would erase her heritage anyways, so she rededicated herself to her elven culture despite the Chantry. Her vallaslin honor Ghilan'nain, the halla mother. I used halla leather to tint her armor because I'm nothing if not devoted to my character aesthetic lol.

Major story decisions include: Allying with the mages, reuniting Empress Celene and Briala, sacrificing Hawke to the Fade instead of Alistair, recruiting the Grey Wardens, drinking from the Well of Sorrows, inspiring Leliana (on accident, I only knew this was possible from a coworker who congratulated me for it lol), getting Leliana promoted to Divine, spreading the truth about Ameridan, vowing to redeem Solas, and disbanding the Inquisition. I completed all companion's personal quests and maxed out my approval with all except Sera, who greatly disapproved of my drinking from the Well of Sorrows and would not become my friend after that. I made Cole more human, sentenced Thom Rainer to serve as a true Grey Warden, did not sacrifice the Chargers, and encouraged Cassandra to rebuild the seekers. Lavellan married Cullen with Dalish vows.

Like before, I'll break down my thoughts into "The Good, The Bad, and the DLC" a well as "The Companions" since they were a major part of the game. Then a special bonus section for Cullen and Solas because wow do I have Opinions on those two and their respective romances, so skip to Conclusion if you don't care about them lol

The Good

Knight Enchanter. I was pretty disheartened when I learned there was no healer specialization and that I could no longer spam heal since that's how I survived combat the last two games. However, the lack of healing made the combat more interesting. For once I had to think strategically about the gameplay and figure out which skills would work best together. Knight Enchanter was a godsend. Even when my team was down I was able to solo kill a dragon with no healing potions. The ability to play as a tank warrior and still be a mage was genius, and even better was the fact that the specialization in-lore aligned perfectly with my character: a skill originating from the elves and reappropriated to serve the Chantry. Sounds familiar. In any case, this game was the first one I didn't set the difficulty to easy just to skip the combat.

Atmosphere. The music. The level design. The subtle physics of character movement. Everything worked together to immerse me in the world, even the locations I didn't particularly like, like the Hissing Wastes and the Deep Roads. I LOVED the Emerald Graves and the Exalted Plains, and the entire Crossroads Shattered Library section in Trespasser (perhaps a biased opinion for a Dalish elf). I listened to the soundtrack of this game on its own because the ambient music was just so good.

Companion Quests. Every game has had them so far but the ones here felt most worthwhile. There were some very big and long-lasting decisions to make here, such as the fates of Thom Ranier and Cole and the Chargers. I also liked how many quests involved other companions - Cole's involved Solas and Varric, Thom's involved Cullen, Cullen's involved Cassandra, so on and so on. Really felt like the Inquisition was one unit instead of disparate companions lumped together by association to the main character.

Wow That's a Lot of Content. There was. A lot. To do. And that was both good and bad, but I'll start with the good. I liked having the opportunity to get to know the places I was exploring and having time to hear the banter between my party. The downtime between missions helped build that sense of camaraderie and nostalgia once I stopped playing.

Get-Along Shirt. Something that rubbed me the wrong way about Dragon Age 2 was how much everybody fucking hated each other and nobody ever learned or grew. Anders and Fenris were at each other's throats from day one and they never realized how much they had in common. Inquisition more or less fixes this. There are still some companions who never get along, but you can at least sense they are developing some respect for one another. Although I didn't get to see the romantic consequence of it, I was still able to appreciate this sort of growth in the Dorian/Bull banter.

Romance. Yes, for once I'll praise the romance scenes here. I only played through Cullen's romance and watched a playthrough for Solas', but I do like the variety of romantic dynamics you can have and the progression of each is believable enough, culminating in some very sweet and touching moments that were fairly well-paced. I was mostly spared from sex scenes this time around, though awkward kissing animations still haunt me.

The Bad

Too Much Too Soon. I'm going to say it: The Hinterlands is a terrible location to start the game. The map is too big, there's too much to do, and it's not very easy to navigate for a new player. I think a location like Crestwood would have been much better to start with. It's more streamlined and has a main quest that's easy to follow. As it is, I had to restart the game 10 hours in based on a save file error, and even replaying the first 10 hours again felt like I was replaying the tutorial.

Wow That's a Lot of Content. My god. Once I hit the 100-hour mark I was quickly starting to tire of this game. I know the devs probably put so many side quests in there so people enjoy the hard work they put into the level design but having so many needless collect-a-thon quests padded out the game unnecessarily. I think this game could have easily been cut down to 80 hours or so and not lose anything for it. I don't need to collect 144 crystal shards I just don't.

Decisions, not Consequences. Something I praised Dragon Age 2 for was making the consequences of your decisions unclear until you finally experience them. For example, the game will not ask you if Carver should become a Grey Warden or a Templar, it solely depends on if you brought him and Anders with you on the expedition. That felt real. Inquisition does not do this often and I think it suffers for it. It asks you if you want to ally with or conscript the mages, warning you that allying with the mages might leave them open for corruption. This decision never backfires. Same with recruiting the Grey Wardens. Drank from the Well of Sorrows? Well, Mythal can control you now but she barely asks you to do anything so don't worry about it. There are no consequences for your actions, except who becomes Divine. You will win regardless. That severely hinders my enjoyment from making any decision at all.

War Table Missions. I like the idea in theory but in execution, it was too much reading for too little reward. Cutting down on the number of missions and the reports you have to read would have made a big difference, or even better, getting the player physically involved in some way. My favorite table missions ended up being ones I came across naturally in the field. That or ones that made reference to previous characters, like getting a letter from my Warden, helping Zevran, or defending Kirkwall from Sebastian.

No Evil Allowed. I get it. You're the Herald of Andraste, a supposed holy prophet. You probably shouldn't have total freedom to do the kind of shit you could do in the last two games, like defile a holy relic or sell your friend back into slavery or kill all your companions. Not being able to be anything worse than rude or disagreeable DOES give the effect that you are being stifled by this all-powerful religion, and I think that really could have gone somewhere. However, that's never truly explored, and the player is never given the teeth to fight back against any differing opinion. At worst you might be a little too execution-happy as a judge but since most of those who are brought to you have done some great evil anyways it's not like it can't be justified. The abundance of middle-of-the-road options makes the game feel too limited in possible personalities and doesn't make me feel nearly as good when I choose to be good.

The Dalish. I had this whole thing prepared for how this game handled the Dalish, then I found an article that basically made all my arguments for me. TL;DR though, the Dalish always get the short end of the stick; the Dalish inquisitor's clan can be slaughtered in a war table operation without so much as a mention by anyone including the inquisitor, there are no companions vocally sympathetic to the Dalish, and the Dalish religion and culture is constantly challenged or questioned or proven wrong, and all of this is frustrating considering the Dalish clans are coded to be minority nomadic tribes.

Blood Magic and Red Lyrium. You thought I was done ranting about blood magic? The thing is, my problem with blood magic and red lyrium in Inquisition is somewhat different from my problem with it in Dragon Age 2. In DA2, I thought it was a cheap way to blur the moral line between religious persecutors and the religiously persecuted. In Inquisition, I think it's a cheap way to hide any nuance there could have been in the mage/templar war. This war should have been a BIG DEAL, considering that's what Dragon Age 2 was building up to. But there was no room for an honest debate here because both sides are being manipulated to do vile things - the Red Templars are under the influence of red lyrium and the mages at Redcliffe are heavily implied to be under the influence of Venatori blood magic. There isn't any real side to take because no one is acting on their own accord. I allied with the mages based on principle but I wasn't even happy about it because I could have boiled down my argument to 'they would be best to close the breach and also they were being mind-controlled by other mages so maybe they're not completely at fault here.' My decision had almost nothing to do with the fact they had been systematically oppressed by the Chantry for a thousand years, you know, the whole reason this war started in the first place?

Tranquil. I was pissed when I learned most rebel mages left the Tranquil to fend for themselves which essentially meant they were left for dead. You can't tell me Anders and that one mage you meet first in Haven are the only mages who give a shit about the tranquil - most mages would have seen their friends become tranquil and I'm sure at least some of them would have wanted to help even if they weren't the same anymore. Again, I just got the feeling this cruelty was written into the rebel mages in order to blur morality lines between them and the templars even though it doesn't make any fucking sense.

Corypheus. What an underwhelming villain. His introduction was pretty cool but then he just kind of fucks off and doesn't do anything until the last act. Until then we have to fight his minions and I don't care about them because they're not Corypheus. The decision to make Samson evil (as opposed to making Cullen good?) was also questionable. If I remember right Samson was one of the few templars who had some sympathy for mages in DA2, something Cullen lacked at the time. Felt weird. Probably would have more to say about that if I gave more of a shit about the templars. I also think a better villain for this game would have been the Architect. He was already introduced in Awakening and depending on your choices in that DLC the Grey Wardens being allied with him would have made more sense (because I did ally with him in Awakening). His intentions are actually somewhat noble - he's an enlightened darkspawn who wants to end the slaughter of his mindless darkspawn bretheren. That's SO much more interesting than a guy who wants to be a god. The Architect also mirrors Solas in a way, having a vested interest in his people and wanting to bestow a higher consciousness onto them to better their future.

No Sense of Urgency. What really got me hooked on Dragon Age Origins was the fate of Lothering. Thinking that game was going to be like Skyrim, I left Lothering with some side quests unfinished assuming I could just come back and finish them later. Nope! The Blight is coming, it destroyed Lothering, and you really thought you had time? And after that, while I was traveling across Ferelden, I could see the Blight physically grow on my map and that made me nervous as it touched the borders of another town I needed to go to. THAT'S effective. Dragon Age 2 does this to a lesser degree, making some missions time-sensitive and locking you out of completing them if you don't do them soon enough. Inquisition does not do this at all and from a narrative perspective that doesn't make sense. Corypheus, for all his failings, is a Big Threat. He's world-ending. Possibly worse than the Blight. Yet I'm free to roam the Hinterlands collecting shards and no one remarks on how maybe this is a bad use of time. I get it, the developers probably decided there was so much content that it would be unfair to make any of it time-sensitive. That's fine, then at least give me a sense like this is urgent, like the Blight on the map in Origins that didn't actually end up destroying anything after Lothering. Give me some narrative reason why I can't just jump between The Western Approach and The Hinterlands and have it feel like that months-long journey only took 2 minutes.

The DLC

The Deep Roads. This was probably the most successful attempt any of these games have made in making me interested in the Deep Roads. Unfortunately, I still did not like it. I liked the two dwarf companions we traveled with, and I actually loved the final level at the Titan's heart because it wasn't just another fucking cave filled with darkspawn. That doesn't rectify the fact I still had to fight through 5 levels of caves filled with darkspawn to get to it. I did think the lore implications of the Titan were pretty interesting though.

Jaws of Hakkon. Started off pretty slow, but it quickly picked up once I made contact with the Avvar of Stone-Bear Hold. Learning about their different way of life and approach to magic was refreshing after living in this Chantry-dominated society for the last three games. But most importantly: Ameridan. He felt like a crucial puzzle piece in my Lavellan's story about her heritage being erased from history. I could not have written that better, I loved the ending.

Trespasser. I love this DLC so much that I hate it. I hate it because it SHOULD have been the ending of the base game. I am sincerely sorry for anyone who had to shell out $20 or whatever for the actual ending of the game they paid $60 for. The locations were stunning, the music was gorgeous, the resolutions with your companions and advisors were heartfelt, the way the DLC built up to a big boss fight and you ended up just having a quiet conversation with an old friend was extremely appreciated. Solas himself is an interesting villain and while I worried I was missing out by not romancing him, I actually didn't feel that way at all once I reached the end. Vowing to redeem him as a friend feels somehow just as impactful, maybe in some ways more so.

The Companions

Cassandra. Took a long time to grow on me but by the time I reached the romance novel quest I started to like her. She's just a hopeless romantic at heart and I found that endearing. I also was surprised when, during party banter, she expressed concern for Anders after Hawke was sacrificed to the Fade, asking Varric if he had told Anders yet. For someone who has reason to hate Anders, that really made me soften to her. Didn't mean I thought she would make a good Divine.

Varric. I loved him in DA2, it makes sense I would love him here. He did feel different though. Wiser and kinder, maybe. I had used him as a companion a lot up until I sacrificed Hawke, then something about bringing him along didn't feel right and I switched to Cole as my main rogue. Maybe because I wanted to remember him as Hawke's companion, not Lavellan's.

Dorian. I didn't expect to love Dorian as much as I do, but he's great. I love his sarcastic and witty commentary on basically anything, but his excitement about history especially made me excited about history. He was so sweet and I maxed out his approval in no time since apparently we share similar opinions on things 90% of the time. I definitely would have romanced him if I could lol

Cole. Love Cole. It was a little difficult for me to understand him at first but I quickly picked up on what he was saying after I learned what he was and I was eager to bring him along on most missions just to hear what more he could sense from the locations and people we met. He's also like 80% of the reason I decided to romance Cullen after he told me he could sense his soul was soft or something sweet like that, and also why I decided to redeem Solas after he said he was well-meaning. I trust the compassionate ghost boy with my life.

Blackwall/Thom Ranier. I really liked him as I do most Grey Warden romance options, and apparently, I came really close to romancing him until I chickened out last minute. I'm kinda glad I did considering he lied and wasn't really a Grey Warden, but I still appreciated his down-to-earth company.

The Iron Bull. He was cool. I loved the first little cutscene I had with him where he wanted me to sit down with my army and listen to how I inspired them without them noticing who I was. It was a refreshing perspective to have, and I liked the variety he brought to the group. He's also deceptively intelligent. He feigns disinterest I think, but when I brought him to The Hissing Wastes and The Crossroads he was incredibly knowledgable on the ruins of both dwarves and elves. I guess he wasn't a spy for nothing.

Vivienne. Oh Viv. I DO see why she's hated, being a pretentious Circle mage who favors the confinement of the Circle and Chantry order. But really, if you look beyond that, she cares. She was perhaps the only one besides Cullen and Blackwall who cared about my wellbeing once we arrived at Skyhold, and unlike those two, I hadn't been actively flirting with her at the time. Everything she does she does because she thinks it's what's best to protect her people from themselves, and while it might be a narrow viewpoint to have, I do understand her.

Sera. It's hard for me to judge her since she's the only one I didn't get to befriend (although I probably would have had I finished her war table missions before the Well of Sorrows) so if she had a more heartfelt scene unfortunately I never got to see it. I had the hardest time understanding her at first, but I somewhat got the hang of her speech patterns after a while and started to like her after that. I like how she kept the inquisitor down to earth and places an emphasis on helping the little guy, although I wished she saw that the Dalish were also the little guy. I hated how mean the game could let you be to her. The writing felt almost biased against her, and I was surprised that I still had the option to kick her out of the Inquisition so late into the game when no one else had that option.

Josephine. She is very sweet! I don't have much of an opinion on her beyond that. I did appreciate that she was the ONLY person who asked me what it was like to be a Dalish elf with any honest and open-minded sincerity, so that was appreciated. I just didn't find much of her family's political conflicts very interesting as I was helping her with them.

Leliana. I was sad at first to learn she was hardened despite the fact that I had kept her soft in Origins, and that Surana stopped talking to her even though she was my Surana's best friend. Still, I was able to chip away at her, and in the end, she felt like the Leliana I loved before. I'm very happy that her being Divine meant reform for the Chantry's acceptance of elves and mages. I know it's not the canonical reason, but I like to think her friendship with Surana influenced her views on elves and mages, and her decision to make those changes.

Cullen and Solas

If you don't give a shit about either of them (I totally understand) then I'll just put my bullet points on them here but I will elaborate for anyone who is interested:

Cullen. Surprisingly, I thought he made a good love interest even to a mage inquisitor. He was kind and thoughtful and I am admittedly weak for men who are awkward and shy when flirting. But Inquisition Cullen is not DAO Cullen or DA2 Cullen, who I hated so very much. There was growth there but it all happened offscreen between DA2 and DAI and it's hard for me to say all of it felt natural; most of the time I felt like the writers did a complete overhaul of his character just to make him more palatable as an advisor and love interest and because of that his character across the series feels like a confused Frankenstein's monster of different writers' intentions. His most believable character development happened in the war table missions sometimes. I at least appreciate the apology he gives for the hurtful things he had said to my Surana, that was a pleasant surprise.

Solas. He frustrated me. I wanted to consider him a romance option since everyone kept telling me he's the best one for a female elf. Unfortunately, he gave me the immediate hurdle of not respecting Dalish culture, which made it hard for me to justify that my Lavellan, a Dalish clan First, would want to date him. Beyond that, he's closed-off until you actually get to know him better, and by the time I did, I was already halfway into Cullen's romance track. Once I did get to know him, I did start to really like him. He is gentle and good-hearted, which is why I completely believed Cole when he said Solas had good intentions as we were chasing him down in Trespasser. I do see him as more of a brother figure though, like a narrative foil to my Lavellan. He's the Anakin to my Obi-Wan.

Here is where I talk about them and their romances because boy let me tell you I was torn between these two as someone who has an interest in romancing the Most Narratively Relevant Character. And that is Solas, undoubtedly. Cullen has his relevance too - he's an ex-templar trying to see the good in mages after hating them for so long, which was relevant for as long as the mage/templar war was relevant but also he was personally relevant to me since I had a vendetta built against him starting from my Surana Origin story. But looking at both characters from a pure quality of romance perspective, I honestly think Solas' romance is the one that's lacking.

Here are the qualities they both share that make their romances feel somewhat similar:

Grumpy/unemotional loners

Has an "I can fix him" type quality

Has some pre-existing bias against you if you're a mage with Cullen or a Dalish elf with Solas (which is all you can be if you want to romance Solas)

I will say this now: Cullen's romance executes on all of the above better than Solas. Cullen is grumpy sometimes but he's not opposed to spending time with others as evidenced by his willingness to participate in the card game. Solas almost never willingly interacts with others with the exception of chess with Dorian (which Cullen also does) and mentoring Cole who doesn't count since Solas only sees him as a spirit, so you're never quite sure what he thinks of anyone else but you, making his romance feel isolated from everything else.

The "I Can Fix Him" is also executed better with Cullen because YOU are not the one fixing him. Cullen's decision to get off lyrium was his own and was initially aided by Cassandra, not you. Cullen's decision to place faith in mages and admit he was wrong was his own and was made well before he even meets you. Romancing him means you are supporting him through these decisions, but you are not the one bearing the burden of them. That is how it should be. By contrast, YOU are the one fixing Solas, full stop. He knows what he is doing is wrong and yet he continues to believe he is justified in it. YOU are the one bearing the burden of that decision. Which, to be fair, you would do anyway if you vow to redeem him and are not romancing him like I did, I'm just elaborating on why this doesn't appeal to me as someone who really does not like the idea of "fixing" in a romantic context.

Then there's the pre-existing bias. I think they both get a lot of flak for this because they have similar lines addressing their bias in their romance and both can be interpreted as "I only changed my mind about your people because I am attracted to you" but I think that's oversimplifying it. Cullen, specifically, says "If I had known you back then, I don't think I would have cared about you. And the thought of that sickens me." To me, that's admitting to his own fault rather than placing any on the mages. He's saying you're a good person and he wouldn't have been able to see that because he used to believe all mages were evil. He never claims to think you are an exception to that rule, only that the rule itself was wrong and he's disgusted for ever believing it. He also never realizes he was wrong because of you, since he already made that realization before a flirting option was even available. You're really only further confirmation.

Solas, on the other hand, says "For all they got wrong, the Dalish did one thing right. They made you." Solas IS saying you are the exception to the rule, a rule which he still very much believes in and never apologizes for having in the first place. But at least he's consistent about it, romance or not. In the friendship scene, he says something like "I wonder, if they could raise someone like you, have I misjudged the Dalish?" which is not an outright admittance of his own fault because it's phrased as a question. He deflects that fault onto you to decide if he was wrong or right. If you say he was right and that he didn't misjudge them, you actually gain approval from him. Gross. Please stop hating my family, man.

Also, Solas' offer to remove the vallaslin is sweet on the surface but his declaration of love being "your culture uses these face tattoos as a symbol of pride in your elven heritage after having been subjected to human slavery for centuries but because they used to actually be slave markings themselves in ancient times (which nobody could have known other than me) you should let me remove them to show how much I care about you, although doing so will surely alienate you from your own people and culture who I still harbor undue disdain for" is kind of awful. Maybe the Dalish were wrong about the original meaning behind them, but the current meaning of them and how they came to be so important is what matters, and it's one of the only things the Dalish have left to declare pride in themselves anymore. Needless to say, if I romanced Solas I would have kept my vallaslin.

That's not to say Cullen's romance is perfect, I still have major issues with it. For one, his line about not being able to care about you if he had known you earlier in his life, as well as saying he was "unworthy" for judging the mages so harshly in the past, is about the closest he comes to ever apologizing for the harm he's done to mages. And he has done A LOT of irreversible harm to mages, more than those two lines could ever possibly atone for. Every time you ask him about how he feels about you being a mage, he either deflects the question or never answers it. I asked him what he would do if I were possessed and he sadly said "I don't want to think about it" okay well if we're dating I feel like the subject of you potentially killing me is one that's important to discuss. He benefits a lot by not having an approval meter because if he did I don't think I would have been able to romance him at all. Everything he advised me to do when it came to the recruitment of the mages or templars I blatantly ignored and did the exact opposite because he's still more sympathetic to the templars. That would not have earned me any approval I think.

Then there's Cullen's attitude towards the Dalish. It was leagues better than Solas' (or Sera's) so I took it, but unfortunately "leagues better" means "basically no opinion or interest whatsoever." I asked him how he felt about me being an elf and he said he doesn't mind because elves and humans were viewed the same in the Circle (which I call bullshit on, my Surana was able to say life wasn't easy for elves in the Circle but I digress). But elves in the Circle are not the same as Dalish elves. I was less interested in how he viewed me as an elf since I already knew he could be attracted to elves (see Surana), and I was more interested in if being a Dalish elf specifically bothered him since that meant I did not believe in the same faith he did. Unfortunately, this is not a question I can ask him.

In the end, Cullen pleasantly surprised me by encouraging me to make my Dalish vows at our wedding, so apparently he also didn't mind my differing faith, but it would have been nice to know that before our literal wedding day. Otherwise, his attitudes towards the Dalish were a mixed bag at the war table. Some missions he was flippant about them ("Blasted halla") and others he was in complete favor of them ("the Dalish deserve honest reparations", saving my clan from annihilation) so all in all it was a wash. Romancing him still did help my whole "warring faiths" narrative I was going for though. Something something marriage between elven gods and the Maker something something making peace with human neighbors something something. I AM glad she was able to get married to someone who wouldn't leave her in the end though, really hit home with the theme of "taking the happy moments where you can find them." I needed her to have a happier ending than Hawke.

This all to say I think Cullen and Solas are interesting characters but there are some pretty big and glaring issues with both of them and I do think Solas' romance specifically is a bit overrated and somewhat troubling when scrutinized, even ignoring the whole 'wanting to destroy the world' thing. Cullen is overrated too but purely because he's handsome and scrubbed clean of all his ugly past which is not always properly addressed. I hear Cullen had some hardcore stans from his DAO and DA2 days and I have to say, please love yourselves. Cullen was intentionally terrible in DAO and DA2. I only care about arguably redeemed DAI Cullen but let's be honest, he still pales in comparison to Alistair who never wanted to be a templar in the first place because he was too kind-hearted to become one.

Conclusion

Sorry, I couldn't conclude my reviews of these games without mentioning my love for Alistair one last time. Truly the best video game boyfriend I've ever had.

Overall, I think Dragon Age is great. I know I ragged on these games a lot but it's impressive they even got me to think about them as much as they did. I love most the characters, I love the atmosphere, I love the impact of choice on the world. There isn't much more I can say about them that I haven't already said.

So what's my favorite game? Well, I do think Inquisition is, technically speaking, the best game. It's the most polished, the most mechanically competent, the most expansive. However, I think Dragon Age 2 had the best plot. It was different, took risks, wasn't afraid to say something even if that something was a little muddied by the world itself. So in those ways, I think both Inquisition and DA2 have merits.

But after pondering it for a while, Origins is my favorite. While the plot is pretty standard compared to DA2, and the game isn't as technically impressive as Inquisition, it holds up just fine and I overall thought its characters were among the most endearing barring Oghren. It was the funniest and most light-hearted game of the three, and the various origin stories do so much to enrich the narrative you can build for your character and your experience. It's the perfect length, and side quests almost never feel like a chore. Grey morality isn't forced and doesn't bog down the narrative. Also, you can romance Alistair in it, so really none of the other games stood a chance lol

Thanks to everyone who read my thoughts on these games! I really enjoyed it! :D

[9bitghost]

REMEMBER THIS AU???

Took me 2 years, but I’ve finally got everyone’s designs roughed out for my RPG AU!! Some designs gave me a lot of trouble, so I’ll probably change a few in the future, but for now, they’re all based around their outfits in the show. Getting back into this has also got me more into learning about D&D, so classes and subclasses are based on stuff from there and homebrews I’ve found and liked, with some liberties taken for the fun of it. ☆  

I want to write proper backstories for all of them sometime, but until then, classes, alignments, and headcanons are under the cut!! ↓ ↓ ↓ (VERY LONG)

This AU can be set either as its own, or if everyone sat down and played D&D with characters based on themselves. I would love to write fic splicing the two together if I ever get around to it lol

Character Info

David: Ranger/Bard - Champion of Nature (Lawful Good)

S4E7 pretty much laid out his character and class perfectly; David is a Bard at heart, and sought to make people happy with his tricks and performances when he was younger, until he found his true calling in his connection to Mother Nature. His home is wherever he can set up camp and has his heart set on protecting the forests’ natural beauty and integrity from quickly growing cities. Breaks into song at random and dislikes conflict. Prefers to shut fights down though talk and song, but does excel at archery and long-range combat if the need arises.

(tbh, binary-bird’s david design is so much cooler and i was heavily inspired by it, so please just imagine him in that one instead lol)

Gwen: Bard/Cleric - College of Lore (Chaotic Neutral)

In all honesty, Gwen is the most difficult one for me to place in this AU. She strikes me as the one to DM for the kids so Nerris can play, and enjoys creating stories for them, hence why Bard comes as the most natural to class her. An unconventional one, as she’s sharp-tongued, usually straight-faced, and witty in a sarcastic sense. Probably owns a bookshop in her town and writes many of her own books (half of which are erotica and stored in a curtained off area you need a password for). She has a way with words and handles her spear with the same proficiency. Badass fighter if you get on her bad side.

Max: Rogue - Thief/Trap Master (Chaotic Neutral)

Grew up poor and practically on the streets with barely a glance from his parents, Max learned it’s every person for themselves from an early age. Known for being a little shit and a master at picking pockets, MacGyvering traps, and winning bets through words alone. Shitton of knives, prefers throwing them from the shadows. Says he doesn’t care for anyone but himself, but would actually kill a man or 20 for his friends. Met Neil when trying to swindle him out of some expensive potions and wound up traveling with him. Purely for profit at first after hearing about the tech Neil’s in search of, but they ended up clicking and became fast friends (in denial).

Neil: Artificer - Alchemist (Lawful Neutral)

Neil’s family is very well off and many of his relatives are well known scholars; his father being the leading philosopher in their district. Though proud of his family’s and his own scientific accomplishments, Neil became bored of his mundane village and life, and thus set off in search of new scientific discoveries that could land him a place in the history books. Hates combat and stays out of it whenever he can. Sticks to the side lines, crafting bombs, poisons, splash potions, and buffs for the party. Relatively level-headed and often leads the team’s strategies in battle, until things go wild and sends him into a panic.

Nikki: Barbarian/Druid - Path of the Beast Master (Chaotic Good)

Born into a broken family, Nikki fled to the woods at a young age and lost her way home. Found and taken in by a pack of wolves, she quickly answered to the call of Mother Nature and grew into a nomadic lifestyle with her pack. Nikki is a wild one, brandishing her giant axe with ease, communicating with animals, and able to shift into a wolf form. Met Max and Neil as they were passing thorough her forest and nearly bit a chunk out of Neil’s arm on their first encounter. Would do anything for her friends and thinks of them as her own pack as she journeys with them.

Nerris: Sorceress - Storm Bloodline (Neutral Good)

Born to a human mother and elven father, Nerris is skilled in magic pertaining to the elements, specifically lightning and electricity, and not to shabby with their shortsword when the need arises. Left their village on a traditional journey to hone their skills and become a great sorceress to make their family proud. Always up for adventure, but rash and dives head first into more dangerous situations. Met and traveled with Harrison, who they bicker with constantly over who is the better magic user, before they both joined the Main Trio feat. David. Don’t mess with their party, man, Nerris will beat your ass into the neighbouring realm.

Harrison: Wizard - School of Illusions/Wild Mage (Chaotic Good)

Harrison was born with chaotic magic that had his parents on edge since the beginning. He quickly became a specialist in illusions, but due to his wild magic, he’d caused a lot of unintentional trouble in his town, escalating to making his brother disappear with no idea how to get him back. Fled his family and town young in pursuit of honing his magic and searching for a way to bring his brother back. Terrible at hand-to-hand, weapons, or close-range combat, but packs a punch when his magic goes haywire, often being linked to his emotions. Will sometimes levitate without realizing and freak people out. His hat is his nearly unlimited inventory and is probably a dangerous rip in space-time that should be dealt with.

Preston: Bard - College of Glamour (Lawful Neutral)

Preston travels around in search of fame and artistic inspiration and loves any audience he can find. Rarely staying in one place for long, he recites his poetry and one-man acts for captivated audiences in the town’s square or taverns, sometimes accompanied by lute or flute music. His outfits are flashy and as much of a trainwreck as he is so he’s easy to spot. In battle, his acts are usually used to stun or paralyze opponents, often done as a tag team with a more offensive member of the party. If forced to fight, he’s not too bad at fencing his way out of it.

Dolph: Bard - College of Paint (Neutral Good)

Born into a prestigious and proud military family that he left to pursue a career in art. Has painted quite a few nobles’ portraits and has thus become well known as a traveling painter. Became quick friends with Preston when they met in a town square Dolph was passing through. Hates conflict and tends to stay back in battle, but if he has to fight, he’s able to summon whatever he paints in ink to fight for him (think Sai from Naruto lol).

Ered: Rogue - Scout (Chaotic Neutral)

Daughter and assassin-in-training of her two fathers who work closely with their country’s monarchy. Though she loves them more than anything, Ered has more of a go-my-own-way attitude, opting to work more freely and alone for smaller contracts than under her parents’ wings. Amazing sharp-shooter with her crossbow and can hold her own in hand to hand combat. She’s a name quite a few know in underground circles, and Max has heard of her before as well.

Nurf: Barbarian - Path of the Brawler (Chaotic Neutral)

Half-orc and full temper, Nurf is a brawler through and through. On the run for various crimes and resents the justice system for putting his mother behind bars. Fights mainly with fists and daggers and is one of the strongest in the party. Actually quite perceptive and insightful, but whether he chooses to act upon that insight is entirely dependent on how he feels at that moment. Nurf joined the party a little later than the rest, after meeting them during an ongoing brawl and teaming up as a spur-of-the-moment decision. He stuck around for one reason or another.

Space Kid: Cleric - Cosmic Domain (True Neutral)

Space Kid comes from a line of astronomers and astrologists, and he too answers to the Stars and Celestial Bodies. Many of his decisions are based on what star charts tell him and he’s just happy to be along for the ride. Met the Main Trio early on during a quest relating to astrology and, realizing they lacked a designated healer for the team, found Space Kid to be decent enough. Probably has untapped powers that are pretty incredible if he knew how to access them. Sticks around due to the Stars hinting that their fates are tied and good things will come about in the party’s future.

Other Notes

I’ve gotten an ask or two in the past asking about Daniel and he is 1458903% a Lawful Evil Warlock/Bard who answers to his patron Xemüg. Quartermaster is also a Warlock, probably Chaotic Neutral, and I like the idea of his patron being The Octopus (thank you S4E5 for the harrison and QM inspiration).

[warsofasoiaf]

I've got a video game suggestion-you've mentioned that your favorite quest in Witcher 3 is Reason of State, and I would like to hear your analysis of that quest.

This is truly a god-tier quest, a very good example of well-done quest design, that culminates a world’s worth of quest-building and features some exceptional character work. Since we’re going to be up to our necks in spoilers, there’s a cut here.

Reason of State might be the grand climax and resolution of the quest arc, but context in this is critical and that goes. The northern wars between Nilfgaard and the Northern Kingdoms is all over the games. Nilfgaard’s plan to assassinate Northern kings using Letho of Gulet is the entire plot of Witcher 2, and the war between Radovid and Emhyr forms the backdrop for Witcher 3. The Northern Kingdoms are almost all broken by the time of the Witcher 3. Temeria is occupied, Foltest was murdered in the Witcher 2. Natalis missing from the Witcher 3, and Vernon Roche forced to fight a guerilla war in caves. Velen is a broken land thanks to this war and under the absentee rule of the Bloody Baron. Aedirn is a non-entity, Stennis is absent no matter what happened in Witcher 2. Kaedwyn is gone, Henselt either being killed by Roche or Radovid and forcibly integrated into Redania. Only Redania remains, forcibly integrating Kaedwyn, but it is run by Radovid V. By the third game, Radovid is a cruel, psychotic king, but has a solid understanding of tactics enough to fight the Nilfgaardians to a stalemate (and he will win, without player intervention). Nilfgaard is responsible for a lot of Northern disorder, their campaign to use Letho to kill Northern kings successfully rid themselves of Demavend III and Foltest, the first of whom was able to successfully predict Emhyr’s movements while the latter is the leader of the most powerful kingdom and successfully defeats Nilfgaard’s invasion. But it’s not all Nilfgaard, Philipa Eilhart murdered King Vizimir II, Radovid’s father and one of the chief architects of the First Northern War victory, largely out of a bid for personal power. This paragraph shows that things are bad all around. Emhyr is a blatant expansionist responsible for a great deal of suffering, and the only man capable of resisting him is an open sadist relentlessly persecuting mages, which might be the only hope for the North to remain independent (it won’t be, but you have no way of knowing that at present)

When the player begins to be introduced to the characters, they’re framed as desperate men on the fringe. Roche is waging a crusade with his Blue Stripes, but the Nilfgaardian advance has been stymied largely by Redania and the two sides attempting to compete for the fleets and treasures of Novigrad. He’s forced to working with Radovid, who he openly doesn’t like, out of a practical need to do something. Ves is even throwing herself into suicide missions against Mulbrydale, out of a desire to do something worthwhile, a far cry from the man who was such a major mover of the plot in Witcher 2. King Radovid does not present well, acting psychotic in his introductory scene with the chessmen, and acting poorly toward Geralt, the player character and thus the vector for exploring the game world even if he is an established character (it’s worth noting that one of the best ways to get a player to dislike a character is to have them be rude to the PC, no matter how justified it may be in-universe). His mage hunts are also not likely to endear themselves to the player; the two primary love interests to Geralt and friends to Ciri are mages, and the witch hunters attempt to bilk Geralt of his reward by demanding the megascope crystal in Redania’s Most Wanted. Djikstra is helpful enough to Geralt during his hunt for Dandelion, but the two end on a bad note which isn’t entirely Djikstra’s fault since Geralt did lie to him; he’s notably nicer if you secure him his vault key, but that requires botching a quest and ends up causing Triss to commit torture to progress the storyline. The player character inclined to be friendly to Roche, if only because he tends to be straight and polite with you. Sure enough, Roche and Ves help out during the climatic fight in Kaer Morhen. Radovid isn’t even an option (and will kill Kiera Metz, further engendering hatred from the player since she’s another character Geralt can shack up with and Kiera’s absence means fellow Wolf School witcher Lambert dies). Djikstra doesn’t help you at all if you don’t get his key back, and if you do he gives you gold, which isn’t likely to be very significant since you’re likely swimming in coin by that point in the game. 

One of the things I like in this questline is that this is a big and monumental quest, but you will lose it if you don’t take the time to get in good with the plotters, you’ll simply miss this quest. If you don’t get in good with the plotters, they won’t trust you. And if you beat down Djikstra instead of giving him information, he despises you and won’t bring you in on the plot, Geralt’s effectiveness as a Witcher and as a protagonist be damned. That’s something that more games need to be doing, rewarding players for investing themselves in the game with content. A lot of Triple-A games these days are so scared of players missing or cutting themselves out of content that they refuse to do this, which makes a lot of RPG’s feel far more shallow. I’m sympathetic to a point to game developers, content is expensive. Graphics and voice acting are expensive and losing content means spending money on content that’s not going to hit 100% of the audience. Thing is though, the same argument can be made for sidequests, or even for alternative conversation paths, so I don’t consider it a good enough excuse on its own. Avoiding this is as brainless as it is lazy.

When the game circles back after the Isle of the Mists, things are clearly reaching a breaking point. Djikstra has recruited like-minded conspirators to his cause to kill Radovid, each of whom have their own reasons. Djikstra, who worked with Radovid’s father, finds him a poor king unlikely to continue Vizimir’s great reign. Gregor the Redanian guard sees the devastation wrought by Radovid’s lynchings and persecutions and despises it, his loyalty to his country is too high to desert but he feels he needs to do something. Thaler and Roche are devoted to the idea of a free Temeria that they’re willing to back Djikstra’s play to bring an end to the Third Northern War. The player is likely to support the conspirators, Radovid’s support of the witch hunters has led to the deaths of non-humans since you need to complete Now or Never and save the mages; pogroms aren’t a great way to endear a player character to Radovid, especially since Zoltan the dwarf has been nothing but a straight-up pal to Geralt. This is a good tactic in RPG quest design, by making the least appealing result the default, it encourages the player to do the quests. As any GM can tell you, you have to make your players want to do the quests, otherwise they’ll do something else. Games are not able to just make up a new quest off the cuff like an improvisational tabletop GM can (this was one of my strengths as a GM, if you trust my players’ judgment), so they must heavily rely on getting the player to do quests. Some are mechanical, do this quest for XP and loot that makes you better at the game. The Witcher excelled though, at getting people invested in characters.

The conspirators’ play won’t work though, not without help from Phillipa; the hated mage is the bait that they need for the trap to work (and coincidentally, it won’t work without Geralt as well both because Phillipa won’t give her ring to any of the other plotters and by virtue of Geralt as the protagonist in the RPG). The trap is laid for Radovid, and if the player goes through with it, Radovid is executed by Phillipa, who flies off into the night having murdered yet another Redanian king.

Then, after the conspirators escape, the stage is set for Geralt to make a moral choice when Djikstra betrays the conspiracy. It’s a wonderfully set and acted scene, from Djikstra quoting a Macbeth stand-in to the patriots’ giddy excitement at the future. Then, the shoe drops and the conspiracy falls apart. Djikstra plans to become the next Vizimir, taking Radovid’s consolidated northern kingdom of Redania and Kaedwyn and fighting Emhyr to a standstill. Temeria would be subsumed into that, ceasing to exist. Naturally, this enrages the Temerian patriots, who refuse to go along with that scheme. It leaves Geralt with a choice, leave and allow Djikstra to murder Roche, Ves, and Thaler, or stay and defend them, resulting in a fight that will end in Djisktra’s death. This is often the case in partisan movements throughout history, where a power struggle over the shape of the victory to come causes disunity and strife, ending with one faction murdering the other ones, so points for historical and thematic elements being on point for the gritty fantasy. Similarly, by making the choice being the resolution of a conspiracy, it threads the needle between the protagonist doing everything and solely resolving the ending for one faction, which often feels shallow, and giving the player no agency which robs investment in the ending. By allowing the conspirators their machinations and taking advantage of others already in place, it allows the player to feel a meaningful impact that has wide implications. Fallout’s ending slides could be hit or miss, though the small scale of post-apocalyptica does make it more relevant. It hits a nice sweet spot, where it’s probably a bit too much to be realistic in a straight history but works just nicely for the scope of fantasy fiction. By forcing the player to do the quests for these people, not only does it meet the threshold of believability by explaining why they would bring Geralt on the quest save that he’s the protagonist, but it invests the player in the characters. Of course, this can only be done because the game did such wonders with its character work. Even if you don’t play Witcher 2, you see Roche love his country, you see Ves try to defend Mulbrydale, and they both can contribute meaningfully in the Battle at Kaer Morhen. Djikstra does influence the main plot and he can be funny with his sarcastic quips delivered by excellent voice acting. Thaler is less of a presence, but he’s also side-splittingly hilarious when he taught the trolls to swear, the player likes these characters and so likes the quest they’re in, and picking between them does actually cut deep in a way that Telltale Games “pick which character you want” drama can only hope to achieve in its wildest dreams. It’s political game storytelling at it’s best, using character work which is easier for players to identify with as I mentioned in my geopolitics essay.

Backing Djikstra is tough in the short run, because you lose three characters that you probably like. Roche and Ves, after all, did join you in Kaer Morhen and it seems cold for them to help and then betray them, unless of course, you didn’t ask for their help. Djikstra rules and reforms the North on a program of modernization, often contrary to the wishes of his subjects. Plenty might think that to be a path of success for the North, since Djikstra will build a military that will defend them and ensure a general level of prosperity. You just have to turn a blind eye to the Temerian patriots being slaughtered by Djikstra.

The alternative, backing Roche and Thaler isn’t a pure win either. Temeria becomes a province of Nilfgaard, but Emhyr gets Aedirn and Lyria. Emhyr finally wins his war and isn’t likely to stop his expansionist ways unless Ciri becomes Empress. Even then, he’s a senior statesman and can exert influence if he wants, Ciri even says so. We can get Roche’s perspective, and we like Roche. After all, he (probably) helps us out in the grand fight at Kaer Morhen, but he’s not an unbiased observer. He’s a Temerian partisan happy to sell out the other Northern Realms for a dubious pretense at some internal autonomy for Temeria alone. In plenty of ways, the Roche path is a collaborationist success story, selling out the North for Temeria alone.

The choice is yours to take and to make what you will. Plenty of folks might hope for a change in direction if they put Ciri on the Nilfgaardian Throne, but they might instead desire for her to adventure on her own as a de facto Witcher. In that case, Emhyr fails, is killed, and who knows what happens next? Could more provinces break away, might there be further wars in Nilfgaard, or power struggles, or something else. It could go a lot of different ways and it’s up to the player to decide. In a way, that’s amazing in its own right, because it’s actually what the real world is like. The absence of a golden ending is standard fare for grimdark, but that so much is left open shows a level of restraint and trust in the player that I admire in a developer. 

Thanks for the question, Anon. Hope you liked it.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 29- Fae Magic

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

BDubs and Stress take a trip to the eternal spring fields in eastern Lairyon, where they face lighthearted trouble and grim fates.

________________________________________

“Oh! That tingles.” BDubs giggles, feeling the hot, dry heat turn into a comforting warm breeze upon entering the magical barrier. Wet, damp air hanging with droplets soaking in the warm sun rays, clinging to the vibrant flowers and trees that turn the enchanted forest into a painting. Eternal spring among the Flowerfruit Fields, petals and berries of rare specimens growing in the wild space. Pink and green grow from the collapsed buildings, vines laden with fruit creeping down the roof. The vines and bushes overflow onto the thin green pathways of the roads and walking trails.

It’s the fruit and herbs that Stress and BDubs are here for. If they hope to face Dolios, and to help their friends ward off the darkness that attacks them, they need an antidote for dark magic. Stress thinks she found a potion that could reverse any ill effects- if administered in time. Unfortunate for the hermits, the ingredients are rare and unusual. No apothecary she visited had the ingredients she needed. Most they never even heard of. 

But if there’s one place she could find the ingredients, it was here in the fields. Foraging among neon green leaves and plump blue fruit. And if there’s one hermit that knows what weed is what, it would be BDubs- resident plant mage. And already, he’s like a kid in a candy store. “Amazing, I thought the starflower went extinct eons ago! Oh, is that a kipling scale vine? Absolutely incredible, stunning.” 

Stress snorts back a laugh. “How do you keep all that information in yer head?” 

“By removing non-important info, like how not to yell, or all my maths I learned in school. A-and names. If they aren’t a hermit, I don’t remember.” BDubs springs to his feet, grabbing the parchment of paper while Stress escapes the heat of her robes. It’s a little much, the fuzzy wool and thick fleece. She wraps the sleeves around her waist, revealing pale, toned arms and a bright pink undershirt. “Alright, what’s on the shopping list for today?” 

Together, the two forage across the field. Stress plucks leaves that BDubs points out, bags fruit that she remembers from the potion book, but no matter how long they searched, they could not find the rarest, most elusive ingredient of all- dragonfruit. Though BDubs has heard of the unique plant, he has no clue how it grows. Is it a vine plant, like a melon? Or perhaps arboreal, or bushgrown. After stabbing himself on the thorns of an estenberry bush, for the fifth time, he snarls defeat. 

“Aww, don’t give us that attitude, BDubs. We’ve been at this fer ages, it’s okay if we take a break.” Stress gazes at the sky, the sun already setting. They arrived here this morning, but all day among the fields has eaten up their daylight. A cold breeze nips at her nose, inviting her to set up camp. 

“No, I’m not stopping until this job is done!” He plunges his hands into a patch of star flowers, hoping that maybe he’ll find something in there. Instead, he feels the sensation of something cool but energetic running along the tips of his nails. The sound of bells rings in his ears. 

And Stress smacks her forehead, so hard that her pale skin turns as red as a Fi fruit. “The fair folk! Of course! They created the Flowerfruit fields, surely they’d know where we can find one of them dragonfruit!” 

BDubs snorts, brushing dirt from his fingers. “You actually believe in faeries? What are you, twelve?” 

“Would you-!” Stress claps her hand over his mouth, glancing from side to side, then glaring him down. “Of course they’re real, BDubs. What, you tellin’ me you’ll believe in dragons and plant monsters, but the other kind are too far outta the realm of belief?” 

The plant mage only nods his head, glancing around at the evening field. Fireflies dance in the blue night sky, and bunnies hop across the trails, from fruit to fruit in search of their next meal. He sighs, backing away. If there’s one thing he learned, it’s best not to trifle with any of the girls. Cleo and False could run him through with their blades if he crosses them- which, admittedly, takes a lot to do. But he’s also the master of annoying people. Stress however… she needs no weapon to make an impact. “Alright, we’ll look for your faerie friends, if you think it’ll help.” 

Stress’s smile is worth backing down on this argument. Seeing his friends happy is what he loves to see most. BDubs follows the ice blue trail of her robe into a thicket of trees, dancing around the rare and exquisite herbs growing at his feet. He can hear the sound of bells ringing in his ears, soft and sweet, just at the cusp of sounding like voices and laughter. Some of the dancing fireflies cast shadows that look bipedal, but he chalks it all up to his weary body. Stress and him had been traveling for days to arrive here, only to jump right into searching for ingredients. Ingredients that now swing in pouches and vials on his and Stress’s waist. 

All except for this ridiculous dragonfruit. He can’t help but grumble to himself as he follows Stress. Why would a dragon even want fruit? Are they omnivores? It sure didn’t seem like it at the championship. Do they grow them, is that why? What he wouldn’t give to see a massive dragon tending to a tiny dragonfruit plant, tilling the soil and watering it at the mouth of their caves. 

BDubs is yanked out of his own thoughts, Stress grabbing him by the arm and nearly throwing him into the mossy grass at her feet. He’s about to whine about the rough takedown, but she falls to the floor next to him. “Look!” 

The two peer through ivy and bushes. Before their eyes, mushrooms and toadstools grow and glow in the moonlight. Pink flowers of cherry blossom trees sway, petals falling to the verdant floor in a storm of rose. Fireflies dim to reveal the festivities inside the ring. Dozens of fae, dancing with bare feet across the soft moss. Their laughter sounds like tiny bells, harps and pipes filling the air as if it were a human orchestra. No matter their tiny size, the music rose well beyond the center of their festivities. 

Stress reminds herself it’s rude to eavesdrop. She crawls through the bush, about as unlady-like as she can get, but announces her arrival. “Hello, fair folk!” 

The fae rise on dragonfly wings, an aura of light following them as they dance upon glitters and gusts. They bow and welcome Stress to the Flowerfruit Fields, though the music grinds to a halt and the glimmers turn red. Stress realizes what’s wrong, and elbows BDubs in the stomach. Hard. “Ow! Alright, Hello, other kind or whatever.” 

“Don’t ruin this, be polite.” She growls under her breath, amber eyes turning icey. “Just...follow my lead.” Stress turns away, walking into the clearing. Careful to avoid stepping within the faerie circle. “I’m the Ice Mage, and that’s the Plant Mage.” 

“My name is-” BDubs howls as a heavy snowboot lands on the arch of his foot. “Yep, that’s me, the Plant Mage.” 

A young faerie, hair a dark halo of curls bouncing against deep hued skin. Pink petals stitch into clothing, a smile for jewelry and raindrops for gems. “Welcome, mortal mages! For what reason do you enter our forest? Do you wish to join in our celebrations? Perhaps you would like some food?” 

At least this time, BDubs waits for Stress to tell him no. They do not enter the faerie circle, nor do they accept the food. “Actually, we’ve been lookin’ fer something all day long, and if there was anyone who would know where to find the final ingredient to our list, it would be the very people that created these fields.” 

Just like BDubs, fae like their egos stroked. The fae accept the kind comments, a few playing with Stress’s short brown locks. BDubs steps away, unwelcome to the idea of tiny, glittery creatures touching him in any way. “Of course, we would love to show you our wonderful creation. Eternal spring, the time of birth and celebration!” 

The faerie attempts to lead Stress into the circle, but she’s too clever to be caught in their trap. She’s a woman raised in high society- she can sniff out trouble a mile away. “We searched all day, but could not find the last ingredient we need.” 

“A dragonfruit.” BDubs finishes, wringing his hands. If he gets his hands on the seeds of this rare plant, he’ll propagate it in his own jungle garden, until no one ever has to stick their hands in a fi fruit bush ever again in search. The fae around him titter, and he catches only snippets of the gossip and conversations around him. Something about the rarity of the fruit, the tender care needed, like it was a jewel or child. How much time it took for the fae to find one. He sneers, turning his back on the petite party. “Forget it, they don’t have the ingredient Stress. They just want to force us into their weird little realm they’ve got.” 

“BDu- Plant Mage!” Stress claps her hand over her mouth. He said her name. Not her full name, thankfully, but it’s one piece to the puzzle the fae could use in their tricks. She turns back, kneeling to the tiny troublemakers. She has to pick her words carefully. “Please ignore my ignorant friend, he didn’t mean what he said. Your help is greatly appreciated from me, and my appreciation spans to him.” 

“Oh, yeah. Thank you so much for all the help. I dunno about you, Ice Wizard, but I don't see a dragon-” His whining morphs into squeaking, and laughter crowds the illuminated air around Stress. Her fellow hermit is no longer at her side. A rabbit is instead. No, wait. Stress would know that tuft of hair between large, floppy ears anywhere. 

“He runs his mouth like a bunny.” The pink faerie giggles. They turn their attention to Stress, a glint in their eye matching the mischievous tone of their voice. And Stress thought the look on Grian’s face was trouble. “Unfortunately, bunnies cannot carry a dragonfruit. And I don’t think we’d want to give such a rare fruit to ungrateful humans. No no no!” 

“Fair folk, we humbly request your kindness. My friend here is an idiot-” She yelps as sharp bunny teeth nip her fingers. “And a right meanie. But we need the fruit. This potion is crucial to the safety of all Lairyon. Please, if he apologizes consider giving us the dragonfruit.” 

“An apology will not be enough.” A fairy with a red aura and lanky wings deems. “Apologies are worthless to the fae. Your belittled bunny here must prove he is sorry, and lower his crown to that of jester to be granted reprieve.” 

Stress glances at her furry friend, but he shakes his head, crossing his paws in defiance. “It’s a deal! What’s one little prank gonna do?” 

The fields flurry around the two, separating Stress from bunny BDubs. One faerie settles on Stress’s shoulder, warning her she should stay back. They don’t want the kind human to be caught up in the misgivings of the illfated. Another faerie drops a flower crown atop Stress’s head, though Stress is careful not to accept any food the fair folk offer. 

BDubs, on the other hand, is picked up by his fluffy cotton tail by three different fae, their laughter a cacophony of bells. His tiny claws dig into the dirt, but the otherworldly beings are must stronger than his thumper feet, and they succeed in pulling him to a faerie well. The pink aura fairy flits to the stone siding, casting dust into the ripples as if she were sowing seeds. The water turns a milky shade, swirling like clouds trapped in the ground. Mist pours from the sides. 

Fae pull BDubs off the ground, suspending the rabbit above the well. “Enjoy your nap, Plant Mage.” 

Stress joins in the raucous laughter from all around the forest, and a short squeak is cut off when the faeries dunk BDubs into the well. He doesn’t stay under for long, but when the faeries pull him out, his eyes are closed and mouth lolled open. Somehow, even in a rabbit’s body, BDubs manages to snore. Stress raises an eyebrow. “Is that all?” 

The fae go silent, the entire forest echoing only the sound of BDubs fast asleep, apart from a snicker here and there. A squeaky, high pitched voice breaks the silence. “Nonono, big gummy bear, I’m not cherry flavored. I swear.” 

Stress realizes the voice is coming from the rabbit, and a snort slips through her lips. The forest roars with laughter, as BDubs continues to dream aloud. His dreams jump from ridiculous statement to ridiculous statement. Stress was sure she heard the weirdest things come from BDubs before, but she can’t help but howl like a chupacabra when BDubs mumbles out his secret enjoyment of diamonds. “Guess someone ‘as rubbed off on ya. Better remember to wash my coins and jewels when they come from both of ye now.” 

Feeling fuzzy both inside and out, BDubs coughs up a hairball from his throat. He opens his eyes, rubbing them from sleep, before realizing he is fuzzy. He’s still part rabbit, in the midst of transforming back from bunny to human. Paws turning to hands, ears shortening back to be beneath his bandana. The young faerie donned in pink settles their arm against BDubs’  bunny feet. “So, how was your nap?” 

“That was the wor-” Stress cuts BDubs off, eyes blazing hot enough to melt all the ice in Lairyon. The last thing he should be doing is rebuking the fae. Again. BDubs groans, but voice pitches to a sickly sweet tone. “I had a wonderful nap.” 

The fair folk all in the fields laugh and cheer, some zipping away to tell others of the fun they missed. It’s a rare delight to have such entertainment, such a witty human that can still fall for their pranks. The young faerie in pink disappears among the bushes, and returns with a bag full of small black seeds. “We fae keep our word.” 

“Th-” BDubs remembers not to say those words, and simply bows his head in response. “Great kindness, i guess or whatever.” 

“We will miss your company.” They snicker. “We would love to have a romping rabbit to bemuse us...and of course, the kindly Ice mage. Take good care of these rare seeds, they require the care of a beast, much like their namesake.” 

BDubs takes the pouch, securing it right next to his heart. He’s going to sleep holding these seeds after what he’s been through. The two hermits rise, about to make their way from the fields when a green light collides into BDubs’s head. “Can I not get a godsdamned break here?” 

The faerie that ran into him shakes off his stupor, voice running so fast it sounds less like talking and more like chirping. Stress turns to look at the fae. “What’s the problem, loves?” 

Faeries rush around them, flitting around in every direction with no sense of purpose or precedent. The young pranking pixie starts to fly away, but stops dead in the air. “No, no that will not do. The dark presence is too close.” 

“Dark presence? What do you mean?” Stress follows the faerie, but they turn on the hermits. A hand as small as Stress’s pinky nail passes between hermit and other kind. BDubs moves to follow, but discovers he can’t pick up his feet. It’s as if they are rooted into the ground. 

“Be the light.” The faerie breathes, before disappearing in the brambles and bushes. Stress cries, watching as her robes turn to bark, bones to wood. Her feet have become roots, and it’s climbing higher. 

BDubs reaches out to help his friend, shock dawning on his face as his fingers turn to branches, bright pink cherry blossoms blooming. The transformation engulfs Stress’s face, Features turning to knots and whorls of the grain. He can only close his eyes, and accept that they’ve been tricked by the fae again. 

Except when he opens his eyes, he can still see. He cannot move, cannot even breathe, but he remains able to see the outside world. He feels a brush of leaves against his own branches, and that’s all he needs to know that Stress is alive as well. 

Why have the fae trapped them? Why turn them to trees, but let them see the world beyond? 

Screams fill the air where there was once birdsong and laughter, the peace of the Flowerfruit Fields shattered. BDubs surges forward, but is stopped by his own roots and rigidity. A howl sends shivers down his leaves, and in the moonlight, a shadow beast prawls through the grove. A varkolak husk, red foam dripping from it’s misty muzzle, sniffs the air before chasing after fleeing lights.

Stress can’t watch. She closes her eyes, hearing the husked creatures snarl and snap, and a distant chuckle begins to arise from the bloodbath. She keeps her eyes closed, until that charismatic voice warms across the massacre. “Such raw magic...so ethereal, why haven’t I thought of coming here before?” 

Three spires of black crystal orbit around Dolios’s crown, mist swirling. With each breath Dolios takes, he consumes the dark magic. Red splatters across his cheek, droplets falling from the hairs of his perfectly kept beard. Eyes glimmer with curiosity as a faerie is dangled from between his fingers. 

A crystal lowers from the angled orbit around the Magistrate’s head, and a shadow falls over the cherry blossom tree. Transparent mist swirls like midday clouds, a low rumble of a magic spell escaping under Dolios’s breath, followed by a cut off scream, scraping like a bell. 

When the shadow disappears, there is no faerie left. Only the magic, the power writhing through Dolios’s veins. The magistrate looks around, and for a moment Stress fears he knows they’re not real trees. But he steps over the corpses on the ground, faeries sapped of their power fading away into nothing. Not even a husk. 

The stolen magic disappears under Dolios’s golden hemmed sleeve, and his hands clasp behind his back. The husk monsters continue at the simple nod of his head. Leaving behind in his wake a bloodbath, and the ashes of what once were the fae of the Flowerfruit fields.

[potatotrash0]

Your DR magic AU, hand it over 🤲

Okay I have two other anons and I’m just gonna split the character ideas among the three asks. I don’t quite have a plot thought out, and most of these characters’ concepts have only existed in my head up until now...bare with me skdjksjfkd

Mm I talked about them briefly in Prom’s ask? But here’s a more in-depth thing of the THH fighting styles.

Makoto is a mage-type. (I used fighter, support, and mage to describe the various adventurer types it’s temporary just roll with it) Again, he can’t really hold magic for very long? He’s got a large mana reserve but it’s hard to activate and harder to control, so he’s currently working on mastering the little bullets. In the future, I imagine large barrages of bullets would sort of circle around him like they would in the barrel of a gun.

He probably got in accidentally? I’m not entirely sure about this, but I think there’s an entrance exam for Reserve Courses and he was probably forced in on Komaru’s behalf for some reason.

He was basically running the entire time until the very end when he panicked and suddenly the entire field was wiped clean from him waving his arm. HPA saw that, decided that he was worth training, and put him into the Main Course. He doesn’t feel very good about getting in that way, but HPA isn’t exactly empathetic like he is. Again this is like one of three ways I think he could’ve gotten in with the rest of the cast because I’m indecisive skdjsjf

Kyoko is another mage-type, in general the Main Gangs of each game have various themes. THH’s trio has a magic theme, they all use magic. She doesn’t use a weapon, though I’m thinking her gloves act as a limiter of sorts?

As a general rule, more mana means less control, and being half-demon gives her a lot of it. Her gloves help her regulate her mana output so that she doesn’t use too much of it when attacking and tire herself out. Later in the timeline, I imagine there might be a scene where she takes them off and fights off some enemies to buy the rest of the class time to escape something? She would get trapped in the process, but I think this would happen after she’s worked with Makoto for a while and she would trust him enough to believe he would come back for her if she didn’t return.

Oh this isn’t related to her fighting style but on the topic of her being half-demon, that’s mainly because I thought it was boring for everyone to be human and I’m a big sucker for fantasy species so yeah. She’s a cambion.

She has purple-tinted skin, horns that curl up and are fairly close to her head, a thin pointed tail, pointed ears, her pupils are slitted, she’s got carnivore-style teeth, her nails are longer and sharper by default. Whenever she uses the full extent of her magic, her scleras turn dark purple and her irises turn white. Oh yeah her scars came from an accident she had when she was young where her magic got out of control and burned her hands. Her mom’s the demon by the way, for no particular reason, I just thought that the Kirigiris would stay human in this and I don’t know anything about her mom’s side of the family.

I just realized I never said Makoto’s race skdjks he’s human!! He and Komaru just happen to be a special case and have a lot of mana. Most other humans in this AU aren’t so lucky. (cough hinata cough cough)

Byakuya, again, uses magic. He’s the only one who uses a weapon in the Trio, he uses a staff specially made by the Togami family. He also knows how to use a sword and a bow.

I haven’t put too much thought into him, but I know for a fact that his adventuring outfit would have a big sweeping cape later in the timeline. In the beginning though, he just has a stupid expensive suit. The cape comes in later as he, Kyoko, and Makoto start to group up more and more.

I’ve decided that adventurers in this AU group up just as often as they go solo, and while Byakuya would initially be solo, he would deem Makoto and Kyoko strong enough to work with whenever they’re taking on a difficult job.

Groups would change to have matching designs the longer they’re partnered up, and capes/cloaks happen to be the THH Trio’s Thing, as in all three of them would have a cape/cloak of some sort. Byakuya because he’s pretentious, Makoto because he thinks it looks cool, and Kyoko because she uses the cloak for practical reasons like storing things and keeping a low profile when needed. Oh and Byakuya’s bloodline is of royal elven descent, their business is selling spellbooks, runestones, potions, reagents, any magical item you could think of.

Sayaka is a half-siren mage! She mostly uses charm and illusionary magic, as well as healing so that she can support her allies. Later on, she might learn water magic so she can actually deal damage as well. I haven’t decided on her weapon of choice, perhaps she uses a lyre or casts spells from a book. I’m also debating having her learn hand-to-hand combat instead of water magic?

I just like the idea of someone coming up and trying to challenge her, thinking they’ll beat her easily, and barely getting a hit in before she kicks their legs out from under them and tosses them over her shoulder like they weigh nothing. She deserves to take out people twice her size and be menacing, as a treat for the amount of disrespect she gets in the fandom. And I want her to take Leon down a peg because he definitely acts a little like a cocky frat boy sometimes.

Speaking of Leon, we’ve got our first fighter-type!!! I could have him use a baseball bat but that’s boring so I’m thinking he might utilize items as well as a weapon? Bombs or grenades that look like a baseball and explode on impact, baseballs that ignite when thrown and act as fire balls. Alas, I don’t think about him much so this is all just me throwing ideas to see what sticks.

Whatever the case, the main thing I know would happen is that he frequently gets help from Kazuichi and Miu because he just cannot for the life of him stop breaking his equipment. He’s reckless and rushes into battle and now that he doesn’t have Kanon to stop him from setting stuff on fire all the time, he gets detention a lot. (And no she isn’t into him like in canon, I refuse to acknowledge that she ever was.)

Chihiro......they can’t fight djfjsjfjjf. They specialize in making tech and weapons, and in the beginning, would mainly use robots that they programmed to support their allies. Though, they do end up training with Mondo, Sakura, and Aoi to help them become better at combat, and eventually they join everyone else on the front lines as a ranged fighter/support type.

Also, the robots would kinda follow them around like pets. Cute little guys that can also shoot lasers. The robots are powered by mana crystals and each one has a different personality and magic type! Sometimes they follow around different people, the electric one took a liking to Mondo and you’ll see it floating around while he works out. They’re buds.

On the topic of Mondo, he’s another fighter-type! He’s more hand-to-hand combat. A controlled berserker, if you will. Probably started out fighting guys in his hometown and progressed to clearing out monsters when Daiya got concerned about his temper? Perhaps. Maybe. I do not think about Daiya I apologize.

Oh wait hold on. I’m looking at his character art and he’s got a hammer.........it’s decided he uses a warhammer, the biggest one they’ve got, and it’s probably a mana-based weapon. Specifically electric. He and that lil robot wipe the battlefield with their opponents >:D

Taka is probably a fighter-type? I can’t for the life of me find where I read this, but apparently he’s really good at self-defense so I imagine he does hand-to-hand combat as well as sword-fighting for the Noble Paladin Aesthetic.

Hifumi was originally a mage-type, but upon second thought, I’m making him a support-type who uses items and potions and stuff! I like the idea of him making fun little bottles and potions themed after his favorite animes and mangas..........he also definitely helped everyone design their adventurer outfits. He’s the only reason that Makoto’s outfit isn’t boring as hell.

Celeste is, of course, a mage-type. She’s Miss Lolita of course I have to make her an ethereal magic user alright also I love her and I love mages let me have this skfjdkjf. As for her weapon, my first thought was her having playing cards that she throws HxH style?

Or she could summon goons to fight for her, playing into the whole loyal servant dream she has. They would be vaguely themed after the cards, so there would be a jack, king, queen, and joker, all of different magic types depending on the suit of the card she throws. Electric for a spade, fire for a heart, ice for a diamond, something along those lines.

I’m also considering having her little...finger armor thing? I’m thinking of having that cross into her magic, where she attacks with claw-like things formed out of mana. Of course she could also just. Use the cards to cast spells directly skdjksjfkhf

Sakura is definitely a fighter-type. Again, hand-to-hand style, but I imagine she’s more controlled and strategic than Mondo. I can’t see her using a weapon, so I guess she’s like one of the only characters to fight exclusively with fists.

Mukuro’s a ranged fighter-type, but she can also do melee. She uses magic-based guns, ones that shoot mana infused bullets. They have a variety of effects depending on the type of bullet and magic. (I’m not a gun person so take this with a grain of salt.)

Bullets that break apart might be laced with electric magic so that they can shock a target from several points, or fire magic if she’s aiming to start a fire quickly. Exploding bullets are usually used with fire magic, but she might switch to ice if she wants to create a barrage of ice shards for...some reason, I don’t know. There’s more combinations I could probably make, but I’m. Not here to spend an hour researching guns. Not right now at least, who knows what I’ll want info on in the future.

Mmmmmm I’m starting to lose patience here so forgive me for the shorter explanations. I might throw in a fun fact about them for ✨ flavor ✨

Junko’s a fighter/mage-type! She uses a scythe and laces the blade with magic. She could combine it with fire magic to create a flaming scythe and go nuts with it, or she could just channel general mana and slam the blade into the ground to create a big crack in the ground.

There’s about an 80% chance she gets several weapons later in the timeline. Her scythe, a spear, possibly a gun. Monokuma probably exists, I like to think Junko ran into a smarter monster and tamed it and kept it as a slightly feral pet.

Also, yes, she’s still a big adrenaline junkie who gets off on despair. If you see her fighting things she knows are out of her league, mind your business.....actually, call someone to help before she gets herself killed. Please.

I haven’t decided what Aoi will be just yet? I’m veering towards fighter/mage-type, she could use water magic and maybe a leg-based fighting style. Possibly judo or taekwondo. I.....do not have any ideas for her. However I do know that she and Sakura would have a bunch of combo moves together dkfjkejfkdjjd

Toko is a mage-type! She probably uses a book to cast spells from. Or just uses her hands. She would fight ranged, I don’t think she’d want to be up in the action. Too much stress for her, y’know? I

As for Syo, she fight differently than Toko! She technically uses dual swords, but the swords can also connect to create a giant pair of scissors. Again, this is just sort of a fun character thing, but she gets to hate Byakuya in this AU. They have arguments and get on each other’s nerves a lot, but I think the rest of the class usually separates them before anything serious happens.

At some point after Toko befriends Komaru, I like to think that Syo gets a proper fight scene with Byakuya where she rips into him. I don’t think Toko would want to hurt anyone though, even him, so Syo would probably leave him with a few minor cuts at most.

Afterwards, I think Byakuya would quiet down with the insults with Naegi and Kyoko’s requests. (Well. Naegi asked him to try and be nicer because he was worried that they might fight again. Kyoko just bluntly told him that he needed to stop being a jerk and start considering everyone else’s feelings.)

Skfksjfkdh ah. I also like to think Komaru and Toko were initially partnered up by HPA for a job. They were assigned to deal with a couple of school kids wreaking havoc on a nearby city with some monsters they semi-tamed?

But after finishing the job, they decided to partner up permanently on their own. They probably have a few combo moves that Komaru came up with, Toko tweaked them to make them actually possible with their skill set and weapons.

Hiro is...possibly a mage/support-type? He’s probably a bit cowardly and freaks out when on the front lines, but he can use a crystal ball to attack from afar. I’m also considering giving him tarot cards so that he can toss them and attack from several points at once?

Or the ball could shatter at some point during the story and he could just roll with it and spread the shards out during battle to attack from several points at once. They could also be used to create a magic cage of sorts, like electric fence but only electricity.

Okay that’s everybody oh my god. I have plenty more stuff about this au, this isn’t even half of it trust me lmao. I’m sorry about this being so long I didn’t realize it’d be this wordy!!!!!

[whatissleepeven]

I -

I can't stop thinking about it -

About what, you ask?

An Obey Me! and Fate/Grand Order crossover

(Warning: Long post ahead!)

Either the bois get summoned to Chaldea or they're able to summon Servants themselves

(...I'm leaning towards the first)

The tomfoolery! The shenanigans!

Imagine: Humanity's Last Master (aka you) ends up summoning them as they trek through Rome with Mash and the Servants they already summoned

They set up the summoning circle, but one minor mistake is made and the summoning glow looks a bit darker than usual and BOOM

"S-...Senpai...is this normal?"

You have no idea what's normal or not, I mean you're time travelling to save your people for fucks sake -

"Servant of the Rider Class. My True Name is Lucifer. Do not expect me to cater to your every whim."

...Wait he's a what now??

They were not supposed to have this whole "Class" thing designated to them (it's not how demonic summoning works he swears), and yet they do for some reason

(You can tell I had fun thinking of their Classes)

The introductions are...cold, to say the least

"Saber Class Servant, and none other than The Great Mammon, Avatar of Greed! I got better things to be doing, so don't go calling me whenever ya want, got it?!"

"Lancer Class...Leviathan. I have an mmorpg raid coming up, so I can't stick around."

"Berserker Class. My name is Satan. What? Are you surprised that I seem calm for a Berserker? It's quite alright; I get that reaction often enough. A word of advice: Be careful what you wish for."

"My name is Asmodeus, but you can call me Asmo darling! I'm a Caster, which is good. I can't mess up the work done on my nails and hair!"

"Hm...Oh? Sorry, I was thinking about lunch. Servant Class: Ruler. I'm Beelzebub, but most people call me Beel. Do you have any snacks on you?"

"Servant Class: Avenger. My name is Belphegor, but I doubt you'll be alive long enough to remember that. I won't do your dirty work for you, human."

You are just...done at that point. You are literally carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders and their attitudes are not helping

"Yeah, yeah, here's the gist: there's a war going on and we're trying to save the planet. The future's been incinerated, and it's our job to fix what went wrong. I don't have time for your uncooperation; get on board."

(Mash is worried for your mental health)

It takes some time, but they do manage to open up to you

The main catalyst for this is when they heard you talking to Robin Hood, who was summoned in France

"Say, Master...I gotta ask: Why are you doing this?"

You pause what you're doing, shooting him an incredulous look. "You mean saving the world?" You ask in return.

He shrugs, tilting his head forward in a slight nod. "Yeah. There's other people who could do this, aren't there?"

"There isn't." The brothers hear you say firmly. Beel almost went in because he wanted a snack, but the others held him back; the conversation had peaked their interest, and they wanted to hear what you had to say.

"Robin..." Your voice comes out strained, as if you were barely holding yourself together. "I watched innocent people die in front of me. Good people. The world outside is gone. I can't even go see my family, because they're dead. I'm not expecting you to understand, but it hurts so bad that somedays I don't feel like getting up. If I die, it's all over; humanity's done. I'll never be able to see my family's smiles again, I'll never be able to hear their laughter; I'll...I'll never be able to go back home.

"So, instead of asking why I'm doing this, you should be asking "How far are you willing to go?" instead."

Robin is silent for a while. Mammon shifts on his feet. The Green Archer finally speaks, somber but curious tone filling the air. "And? What's the verdict, Master?"

Your voice has a tone of finality to it that shoots them back to the past, back towards the Celestial War. It's final, but it's tired. "Whatever it takes."

(And, so, the brothers come to understand and even sympathize with your situation a little bit. You had to fight for the sake of others without rest, you were a leader, you were a savior, but most of all...you were alone. And something about that didn't sit right with them.)

They would fit in perfectly with Chaldea's dynamics, actually

Mammon has a gold sword he lovingly calls Goldie (yes it changes into his beloved credit card)

His Noble Phantasm is literally him raising his sword and mountains of Grimm burying his opponents from the sky as he cackles out:

"Don't worry, I'll take all that money off ya hands!"

Or, in a proud declaration:

"My sword is my love, and my love is my sin. I'll take all that you have on ya! STULTUS IN AVARITA!!"

(Translates (from Google) to "Greed of the Fool")

(It also gives you an increased drop rate in materials)

Leviathan's weapon is his trident

He's surprised that he wasn't summoned as a Rider, once he got used to the "Class" thing (which was fairly quick, he's seen an anime like this before). I mean, he has a giant snake named Henry 1.0 and Lothan that he would've loved to fight side by side with

He usually doesn't fight, but he proves to be invaluable in Okeanos since he has knowledge on war strategies at sea

His Noble Phantasm is a bit strange, but endearing (sad). He rushes forward with his trident glowing, saying either:

"I can't get the latest Ruri-chan merch because you blew up the world...I won't forgive you. I can't forgive you!"

Or, in a somber tone:

"Even though it's fun, a gamer's life becomes stifling if you keep playing by yourself. I hope you're watching, (Y/N)! EX SOLA INVIDIA!!"

(Translates (from Google) to "Envy of the Lonely")

(Chance of Death increases with Overcharge, and it hits a single enemy)

Satan? Even though he's a Berserker, he behaves more like a Caster (initially)

He's holding a book that shoots out beams of pure energy at his opponents

His Noble Phantasm is...more violent

"Ah, so you've decided to call upon my Noble Phantasm...don't blame me if it's too much for you."

Or, he begins in a deathly calm voice:

"I am me; that's all I need to be. I know this, so why...? Why does this happen? TELL ME! "

He discards his books altogether, grabbing a single enemy with his bare hands and ripping them to shreds.

Asmo’s skill is charming his enemy, which confuses most people since you’d think it’d be his Noble Phantasm

Instead, it boosts his allies’ attacks and NP by 30%

“Don’t get too hurt out there~!”

Beel’s Noble Phantasm heals all allies and increases their attack

“We can’t fight on an empty stomach.”

(Once he hits his last Ascension, your party gets the added bonus of him attacking a single enemy with a lance. All other Ascensions has him using his fists for attacks.)

Belphie’s Noble Phantasm is almost as violent as Satan’s, and yes...he chokes out a single enemy out (rip MC)

“HA! You think I’d work with the likes of you, a lowly human? Get out of my sight.”

It’s Instant Death, unless Evasion or Invincibility is activated

Lucifer’s pride is a bit wounded. He’s a Rider, of all things??

(...He eventually gets used to it though)

His Noble Phantasm is him literally mounting Cerberus and raising his spear towards the heavens, looking as radiant as the days before the Fall

“It seems drastic times call for drastic measures. Cerberus, I trust you to handle things here.”

And Cerberus runs forth, either chomping the enemy in two or breathing fire at them and turning them into ash. (It hits everyone)

Satan and Jekyll hang out a lot because, well...they’re a lot alike

Mammon can and will do stupid shit with the Cu Squad and you cannot change my mind

One time he teamed up with Cascu to steal the other Cu’s spears (Mammon wanted to sell them on Akuzon), and well...half of Chaldea is still in repair to this day

Merlin of all Servants is the one to look after Belphie and Beel

They usually hang out in the garden Robin tends to, Asterios occasionally joining them while bringing both food and Euryale

Asmo frequently visits Medea, dragging Medusa into their group

(Dantes grows fond of Beel overtime, I mean Beel is just so pure there’s no way you couldn’t like him)

Lucifer and EMIYA butt heads at first, but they end up becoming friends despite that

Lucifer admires EMIYA’s skill to keep up with Servants who have a black hole for a stomach, and EMIYA admires Lucifer’s skill to round up his brothers effortlessly when the need to arises (or so he thinks, because he does not know about the Hate Lucifer Club which is run by Satan and Belphie).

Levi and Fran have a pure kind of friendship that must be protected at all costs

He shows her new animes and games, and even though she’s confused most of the time she never fails to listen to his ramblings, nodding whenit was appropriate

BONUS: Undateables (+ Luke)!

Solomon’s situation is...peculiar.

He’s not a Servant, but he behaves like one??

(He’s actually a mage that helps you on your journey to save humanity)

Unlike Da Vinci, he’s able to accompany you to the Singularities (free of charge, too!)

Once he sees the other Solomon, all he says is “I see...interesting.”

(Ngl he probably figured out everything by the time you all went to Okeanos)

Asmo also drags him into his group (consisting of Medea and Medusa), offering to paint his nails as they talk about anything and everything

Simeon is a Lancer and you can’t change my mind

He’s more of a buffer for your team, like Asmo. His skills are primarily healing, and his NP saps the health of an opponent while healing someone other than himself with that health (he cannot heal himself)

He gets along great with Karna!! The two are so nice and kind that it hurts to look at them both for too long

Solomon tells him about the gossip Asmo has on the other Servants. He always listens with an amused look on his face.

Luke is a smol Caster, but he will not hesitate to break your kneecaps

He, too, is a buffer for your team

“I’ll defend you from those demons, (Y/N)!”

His Noble Phantasm heals all allies, restoring their health by 20%

He bakes with Fsn Cu at night, having Proto Cu and Robin Hood try out his sweets. Beel is there 10/10 times, eating any failures or rejects

Diavolo is Ruler Class because he is literally the Ruler of Hell

Surprisingly (to you, at first), he’s the one who always asks to accompany you. He’s very open and considerate, wanting to help wherever and whenever he can

“The Human Realm is essential if we are to establish harmony between the three Realms. Without it there...angels and demons would fight each other for eternity.”

He tells you about his ideas for an exchange program and you offer him input

His Noble Phantasm is applying Invincibility to two allies for 3 turns after dealing heavy damage to a single enemy (cannot apply Invincibility to himself)

He likes to talk with Caster Gil and Archer Gil about their past, going to Ko Gil on occasion. He helps look after the child Servants, and he can often be found reading bedtime stories to them

(Everyone was scared of him at first once they found out who he was, so he usually held off revealing his True Identity)

Barbatos, at first glance, seems like an Archer...but in reality is an Assassin

(HE CONTROLS TIME FOR F*S SAKE)

His Noble Phantasm, depending on the enemy selected, can revive a fallen ally and add them to the Sub Team

(This is only if the enemy that killed the ally is selected)

This stuns him for 3 turns no matter what

He likes to chat with the Tamamo that helps EMIYA in the kitchen. How the two are communicating without issues is up to anyone’s guess

[bluekaddis]

You almost mentioned Cullen as the best written character, but tbh he is written quite bad, his abuse and hate is never confronted in Inquisition and he is made victim by narrative, while he was the very problem why Chantry sucks. Even his fans admit that. He is mostly liked because of romance.

Ugh.

I was waiting for that moment when admitting I like Cullen’s character and story arc will bite me in the ass.

TL; DR (for those who don’t want to get through my long rant) 

Let everyone enjoy any characters/romances/game choices they want. I have my reasons for having Cullen as a fav DA character and liking his story arc and I don’t think there are more problems with writing of his character than the majority of other companions in DA games. 

Full answer below

First of all – I don’t want to argue that everyone should like or dislike the same elements of fiction as I do – it would be stupid. We all have different tastes, like different character archetypes and have varying opinions on what makes a good story. I’m trying to keep my blog character positive and unless someone asks me directly to share my opinion on a certain character or plot element I prefer keeping my critique to myself. I also don’t feel entitled to confront fans who, in their own posts, state they find Cullen boring, unredeemable or overrated, even if I personally disagree with all these statements. 

If your ask, anon, stated the words “i think” or “in my opinion” I wouldn’t probably bother with such a lengthy answer, HOWEVER, you write your personal opinion like it was an objective statement, like you were in position to tell me how I should view the certain character. What did you expect, that I would suddenly realize “oh crap, NOW I see that a character and plot I had liked for my 200 hours of gameplay is actually bad, I was just too stupid to notice it!”.

Haha, no.

So, let’s go through your comment.

“tbh he is written quite bad”

In. Your. Opinion. There are people who don’t like Cullen’s character development. Some like the general idea but would make some changes if they could. Others (like me) don’t have problem with his story arc and just like to add some headcanons to fill the gaps.

It is understandable that when years pass between games, fans have time to develop their opinions and wishes of what they’d like to see. And because none of them actually writes the story it is very easy to feel disappointed and say “well, I would do it better (= my way)”. But the truth is - your way is not necessary a better way. It may be the case that “your version” would be even more hated by the fandom. Some opinions are just more popular than others and therefore may seem like they are objective but it’s an illusion. A well designed pool, with large sample size and good statistics may be objective. Opinions, on the other hand, are like farts – you always think yours are less stinky than the others’ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But I digress.

Yes, I think Cullen is a well written character and yes, I like his story arc. Cullen’s redemption works for me because I see it not as much about atonement for his actions as for his lack of action.

Let me explain.

Anti-Cullen fans tend to assume that he personally did a lot of atrocities, but when you look not at fandom assumptions but at his actual actions we see in games or WoT, you can see that he caused most evil by not doing shit.

He should have protected the mages.

He didn’t.

He should have questioned Meredith’s actions.

He didn’t.

He should have noticed she’s going mad.

He didn’t .

He should have stopped her before she evoked the Rite.

He didn’t.

He was very passive and basically let either Meredith or Hawke make all the choices for him. If he let Meredith decide – people died. If he listened to Hawke (based on player’s choices) he voted for whatever Hawke had proposed.

Why was he behaving like that? Probably because he had lost faith in his own judgment so he put all the responsibility on authority figures (Templar Order and Chantry teachings). Cullen’s core motivation throughout all games was to protect people and it never changes. What changes is his belief of what methods are moral or necessary to achieve that goal and whether he, as an individual, should be in a position to decide it.

In Inquisition Cullen does the opposite. He is a workaholic. He makes his own decisions (leaves Kirkwall, stops taking lyrium) and takes full responsibility for them. He doesn’t follow his leader blindly but openly states his own opinions and advice (whether they are correct or wrong is another topic). He gets really furious when someone in position of power lie to or sacrifice people under their command (like in case of Samson or Rainier). Finally, he dedicates his life, health, skills, basically everything, for a cause - to stop the war that can be blamed mostly on his former organisation, without complaint or asking for forgiveness.

And I love that aspect of his character.

In Inquisition Cullen is still a work in progress. He tries his best but his templar past comes back sometimes - and it’s good. If he was completely free of his biases, it would be damn unnatural. 

I would never say that Cullen is a flawless ray of sunshine. He can be stubborn, biased, narrow-minded, hypocritical, bitter, aggressive and vengeful. But guess what – so can all the other characters. That’s why they are interesting.

“his abuse and hate is never confronted in Inquisition”

It is, at least for the standards of this particular game. DA:I doesn’t have full developed friendship-rivalry mechanics like DA:2 and you can’t even get approval points from advisors. The Inquisitor basically has far less options to condemn the Inner Circle’s actions or change their worldviews than Hawke (you don’t really argue with Dorian about slavery or with Iron Bull about Saarebas or Reeducators either).

But even if the Inquisitor has limited dialogue options to confront Cullen’s actions directly, Cullen himself brings the topic to the player. Cullen’s dialogue and actions in DA:I show that

he is ashamed of the person he became after Uldred’s uprising    

he knows he needs to atone for his actions and he wants to work for it

but doesn’t really believe he can fully atone for what he did

supports the reform of the Chantry, Templar Order and Circles rather than agreeing to their traditional methods

That man already hates himself, give him some rest.

And if you still think he needs an extra punishment for his crimes - Cullen is actually one of only 3 companions/advisors in DA:I whose life you can literally ruin through your choices (the other two being Blackwall and Iron Bull). If your Inky thinks that Cullen’s actions are unredeemable and he deserves nothing better than to forever be chained to the templar life he has chosen as a kid - they can order him to take lyrium again. For me it’s a heartless and morally wrong choice, but anyone can play their game however they want.

„he is made victim by narrative”

Ok, that part really bothers me. Are you saying that it is a bad thing that a narrative treats a person who has been physically, mentally and sexually abused for weeks as a victim of that abuse? Or encourages empathy towards a character fed drugs, manipulation and propaganda? Acknowledging Cullen’s PTSD doesn’t automatically result in ignoring or diminishing traumas and abuse that happened to Anders, Carl or any other character. Empathy doesn’t have to be reserved to people you personally agree with, just saying.

„he was the very problem why Chantry sucks.”

I’d say he was an example showing why Chantry sucks. A symptome, not a cause. Chantry benefits only high ranking members of that intitution + some nobles and rich dudes. Mages are abused and denied most of the rights because of the Chantry. Templars are drugged and brainwashed because of the Chantry. Common folk can’t freely benefit from things like healing magic because of the Chantry. Non-humans are treated like heretics and barbarians - because of the Chantry. The Chantry, as we see at the beginning of DA:I is a corrupt, powerful institution that has forsaken almost all ideals it had been built upon and desperately needs a reform. Everyone can see that. I have NEVER met any fan who said „yeah, Circles, Templar Order, the Chantry – they were perfectly alright, no need to change lol”. Same goes to characters labelled by fandom as pro-Chantry (like Cassandra, Cullen or Vivienne). They all see that major changes must be done, they just believe the reformation is better than abolition.

„Even his fans admit that.”

Some, yes. Others don’t have a problem with his arc. Personally I don’t think there are many Cullen fans that would agree with every single point you made.

„He is mostly liked because of romance.”

Um, no. The reason why the game developers even bothered with making Cullen a romance option in DA:I is that he was already quite liked and popular among fans, despite being just a secondary character. I’d agree that the romance plot made Cullen even more popular, especially among players who didn’t play previous games, but it is wrong to assume that the only reason people enjoy his character is because he’s a pretty boy. I played the games in order and Cullen was one of my fav characters in DA2 - I just like paragon anti-villains with redemption potential. Fight me. 

To conclude this overly long rant - I’m generally under impression that some DA fans tend to point certain aspects of Cullen’s character and story as “stupid excuses made by Bioware and fans to redeem a son of the bitch” and then use almost exactly the same arguments to defend their own favs. It’s the topic for maybe another discussion, but I think it’s a good thing to confront your own biases sometimes.

P.S. I also recommend watching this video about writing redemption arcs. Just for fun.

I rest my case. 

(thanks, Ania, for the high quality picture to sum up my feelings)

[pathofcomet]

bride of ice (5)

{dragon age: inquisition | g. | female trevelyan/iron bull | 5.9k}

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23533642/chapters/61596748

They drink that night, after returning to Haven and getting the Chargers settled. That’s the first rule of negotiations: to break bread at the same table as your new ally, promise made but not entirely true until that moment when the first cup of wine sits on one’s lips, first sip taken, trusting it not to be poisoned. Of course, those are nobles’ fears and superstitions. She has no doubt that given the right reasons, the Iron Bull would simply strike her down: easier to deal with someone, if not necessarily cleaner.

But while she comes up with such scenarios, the Qunari seems entirely at ease, downing cup after cup of ale, laughing next to Krem, turning a bit to the side to glance at her from time to time. She tries to keep her expression levelled, not let the redness at the tip of her ears and across her cheeks to be read as anything but tipsiness. Just because she desperately wants to trust him, doesn’t mean she does so, not quite yet. For as much as she appreciates having him on their side, for now, she fears the time when they might stare at each other across a battlefield. And she knows she has seen only a shadow of what he is capable of: both as a warrior, and a spy, incredibly sharp and smart.

Trevelyan looks around the tables moved together into a corner, to fit all her people, and wonders how on earth did they manage to bring together such a capable, colourful band of experts: Sera shares a joke with Varric, as Cassandra frowns in her ale, suspicious enough to at least imagine that she’s the reason for their laughter. Vivienne looks like she doesn’t belong in here, with her delicate garments, and yet the banter she gets into with Iron Bull feels natural from the first second. Cullen is explaining something to Solas, looking dreadfully serious, all while Krem is caught in an animated conversation with Josephine and a few other Chargers.

Something in her chest booms with pride, that she somehow helped in creating this moment in time, this space for all of them. No one talks to her outright, lost in alcohol, but not forgetting her sainthood, and only the barmaid throws her a wink each time she refills her cup. From the other end of the room, Iron Bull catches her eyes again, and warmed by the fire burning in the fireplace and the drinks, her expression slips for a second, before getting up and retreating for the night. It was a weakness that didn’t feel like one, right then.

Iron Bull accepts the refill, grins at Cassandra just to piss her off, thinks how no one even noticed the Herald’s absence, or said their goodbyes to her as she left. No one questions or challenges her, no one looks after her – even as she’s the one that has to do the same thing for everyone else here. He tries to guess at her age: younger than him, almost too young to be made the symbol that stands between humanity and the end of the world. Yet, ever since they met, he has seen nothing holy in her, only in the gazes of her people.

Sainthood achieved by devotion. Obsession and prayers given as offerings to a reluctant goddess. Martyrdom expected and awaited from nothing but a lost girl. To not allow herself get swept up in all this commotion created by the breach and her Mark, she must either lack serious self-confidence or know herself too well.

Bull downs his drink in one go, shouts for another. The barmaid smiles prettily at him as she passes by.

The cheerful chats go on for much longer in the night, and Trevelyan lays awake in her bed, lulled by the faint sounds of it, but her mind reeling, considering the requests they’ve gone through during the afternoon’s council, thinking of how they can get supplies for the new wave of refugees that are on the way. She thinks they deserve a late start to the day in the morning, feels guilty because it might be a luxury that they cannot afford.

 ***

Despite falling asleep late, she’s up early, with a stiff neck from a bad night, and she swears when she gets out of her blanket only to be welcomed by the typical freezing cold of Haven. If she were back at home, today she would have gotten ready alongside her mother, being a holiday, and maybe that’s why she ends at the Chantry. Habits are hard to lose, especially ones that your entire family is built upon.

But she doesn’t pray, doesn’t want to anymore, even as the words sit at the tip of her tongue, even as her fingers itch to go and light a candle.

She will know no fear of death, for the Maker shall be her beacon and her shield, her foundation and her sword.

However, in the middle of a battle, when you’re gasping for air, when you’re sure you’ll be dealt a final blow, or when your vision goes out just as the world turns louder and louder around you – she knows one is actually very afraid, knows one is not praying for light and a place by the Maker’s side, but for more life, for another chance, for more time. One sees their entire life flash before their eyes, and in that second, they want to grasp it all, multiply it tenfold, hold on to it, lay it at the feet of the Maker and say: see, I deserve more. Dying is as desperate and as ugly as it can get, and there’s no god that can make it less of that, even as those left behind pray for it.

No matter how much she prays, no matter how hard she believes, the dead cannot be brought back to life, or, anyway, not in any way that it matters, not in any way that doesn’t involve blood magic or demons or a blight. So then, what’s the point?

She thinks of her brother, and then she’s angry all over again at a supposed Maker that allowed his death to happen, that let so many go like that. She thinks of his belief, of how badly he wanted to do good as a Templar, or how he was the person who taught her her first prayer, and he only had to die to undo all that good she made her believe in. She hates being called the Herald, because there’s nothing more she’d like to do than throw away her religion and her Mark, even as she knows it’s pointless to wish to change the past.

When will she make peace with the fact that the world if unfair, and it hasn’t been this vicious to her just because she’s been a noble until now? When will she accept that her rage is just exhausting, and nothing more?

“Herald,” Vivienne greets from her side, and she startles like a thief caught in the middle of a robbery. “If you’re praying, I can- “

“No.”

Her answer is too immediate, too sharp, and she turns her back to the statue of Andraste, smiles at the mage. Vivienne is as gorgeous as always, and if the night before was in any way more hectic than her parties, she’s not showing it. She looks at the Mark, reaches out with her magic to test it, and it tickles at the tip of her fingertips, makes it hum and glow – a sight fascinating no matter how many times she sees it. For a mediocre fighter to now possess a magical power stronger than a First Enchanter, with no magic manifested ever before, is a miracle in and of itself, though Trevelyan is not willing to attribute it to anything but pure dumb luck.

“Tell me: why were you at the Divine Conclave?”

It’s a question dressed in prettier words, Vivienne’s experience with nobility showing, because Trevelyan knows that what she means is: why you? There were the obvious political interests, and her mother’s choice that designed her at the ambassador of their house’s position. She has a brother on one side of the war, and she feared losing him even as she didn’t know it will hurt this badly to not have him anymore. She has heard the cries in Ostwick, from family of both mages and Templars alike, ever since the Chantry blew up in Kirkwall. She has barely missed being caught in too many fights on the streets, she heard the rumours that their guards were hiding apostates in their homes, that nobles welcomed back their children in their ranks, now that Circles fell around Thedas.

So she was there as a Trevelyan, just a representative of a name. But she knew what her brother was fighting for, behind the closed doors of negotiations, what Divine Justinia was hoping to achieve with the gathering in the first place.

“The war benefits no one. It must end.”

She thinks of their camps in the Hinterlands, now a mixture of those torn apart by war, villagers equally parts traumatized by lirium crazed fighting and spells blowing up everything to pieces. She thinks of all the bodies that they’ve found, burnt beyond recognition, houses abandoned, livelihoods forgotten behind just for a chance at life. She thinks of everyone who stepped in her path, crying and begging for a piece of their past, for a piece of their loved ones.

She doesn’t want to see something like it ever again.

“Mages, Templars, innocent people of all kinds now look to the Inquisition to decide their fate. Failure is a luxury that we cannot afford, my dear.”

Vivienne sounds calm, so she also tries to remain so, though her breathe is hitching in her throat and she’s starting to get dizzy. She doesn’t want someone to word out exactly what she’s fearing, like she doesn’t comprehend the gravity of the situation, like she needs guidance towards realization. She hates that Vivienne might have read her all right from the damn fucking start, and she breathes, slower, forcing herself to calm down because she doesn’t want to throw up all over Vivienne’s expensive heeled shoes, or her new boots that she looted off someone’s body in the Hinterlands.

“For almost a thousand years, the world believed ir was in the hands of the Maker. Now many believe you are the agent of His will. Whatever the truth, that belief gives you power.”

What a bunch of bullshit, she wants to say, but she knows she’s been allowed entry to Val Royeaux because of that belief, she knows she has an army, no matter how badly fed, because of that belief, she is part of the Inquisition at all because of that belief. And in those open doors, in those raised swords, in the allies she found – there’s her power.

She doesn’t want to use it, too scared, but she already did, just by surviving, and she’s now a piece in a chess game she doesn’t know against who they’re playing.

Vivienne is already not paying attention to her, returning to her desk, writing letters, inspecting the reports she’s received from Josephine. So her warning is more murmured, more an omen than an outright warning, though she knows it’ll hit where it matters anyway.

“If no one leads the way, many will be left in darkness.”

And the Herald knows, that as much rage as she is feeling, there is someone out there with more damage done to their families, with more responsibilities on their shoulders, with more grief in their hearts, failed by the world in ways that maybe she cannot even begin to comprehend. And she knows, that if her rage is true, then she has to fight to make sure that as many people as possible are protected from such pain. She hates that Vivienne read her all right from the damn fucking start. She hates that she knew exactly where to shove her, and in which direction – and if Trevelyan makes the Inquisition, then the Inquisition makes her just as much.

 ***

As she goes around Haven, writing down lists of needed supplies, marking on a map all the places that they need to scout, or where rumours are pointing at, talking with officers and soldiers, upgrading a piece of armour, training with Cullen and discussing best offers for various noble houses with Josephine, she starts noticing The Iron Bull. It’s impossible not to, as he easily towers above everyone else in the Inquisition’s ranks, and almost everyone naturally gets out of his way. When she marks Dane’s stables on her map and question one of the young helpers about the man, the Iron Bull borrows a sharpening stone for his axe from grumpy Harrit, one of the only persons that doesn’t seem at all phased by the presence of a Qunari in their camp. When she leaves a Council meeting in a late evening, Krem is dragging Bull in the tavern, looking outright comic with his arm around the Qunari’s shoulders, their laughter booming in the air.

Then, tentatively, because Bull has done her the favour of directly telling her about his status as a spy, she decides to just talk to him directly as well. Eyes to eye. First comes a morning training, as she goes through the moves with more recent recruits, that still are not familiar with her fighting style, whose moves she cannot guess just because they’ve been trained by Cullen, in a style too similar to her brother’s.

On the other side of the training ground, Cullen and Bull shout their orders to each of their troops, guiding their moves, correcting wrong stances, pushing those showing potential. Sometimes, the missed hits turn into reason for teasing from the others, or a joke is shouted instead of a scream as a soldier lunges for their opponent, and although everyone trains with all their might, there’s an air of comradery between them that makes it not seem much of a chore.

She stops first, head politely nodding at her partner, her skin still sweaty, adrenaline still making her head reel. She starts making her way across the yard, stopping by Bull’s side, waiting patiently for him to finish the drills, ask his lieutenant to take over. She’s staring at all these soldiers making up the Inquisition’s ranks when he turns towards her.

“They’ve got good form. Cullen’s putting his Templar training to good use.”

She crosses her arms, moves her weight so she’s just a tiny bit closer to him.

“Did Cullen tell you he was a Templar? He’s not wearing the armour.”

“He didn’t have to. Might not be a Templar shield, but it’s a Templar holding it. He angles the shield just a bit down. Helps direct fire or acid away, so it doesn’t spray right into your face. Qunari learn the same thing when we train to fight Tevinter mages. Your Templar’s doing good work.”

So that’s what his Ben-Hassrath training is capable of. She noticed the same thing, but it was the familiarity of it that made her notice it at all, and she’s impressed by how sharp he was to catch all those details, and piece together that much of the past behind them, and be so correct. Still, he’s true to his word, and he’s not only telling her his obvious conclusion, but also the thinking process that brought him to it – and she nods her head, looks again at the troops and sees something more this time around.

“I’m impressed by what Cullen has accomplished with the troops.”

Most of the people joined the Inquisition after the explosion at the Conclave, now refugees with a want to do something about this new problem that they’re all facing. Most of the older soldiers died when they closed up the Breach. Yet those standing in front of them are objectively good, and it is all thanks to their commander. It takes time to build a group into a team, but these men gave their loyalty to Cullen, and that’s one important detail when getting ready to fight a religious war.

“Biggest problem for the Inquisition right now isn’t on the front line. It’s at the top. You’ve got no leader. No Inquisitor.”

She turns to stare at him, try and see if he is joking, but Bull looks dead serious, his eye searching her face, memorizing every change in expression – and she knows he’s doing it, and yet she cannot stop herself from looking as incredulous as she feels.

“Cassandra’s been the driving force of this Inquisition. She’s the leader in all but name.”

“Cassandra’s a Seeker. From what I gather, that’s a bit like a Ben-Hassrath.”

The hand – that gives, that takes, that beckons, that strikes. She has hand-picked each person in their ranks, has used the authority of her title and past to create this organization. No one would be here without her, so isn’t that the obvious choice? No matter how terrible their beginning together, no one can deny the fact that the Seeker is an incredibly capable woman.

So then, why not? She frowns up at the Iron Bull, and with him, she doesn’t even have to actually ask the question outright.

“She’s a good hunter and a great fighter, but she doesn’t see the big picture. Too busy searching for answers.”

And Cassandra has searched for answers all her life: about her family’s demise, about the path of a Pentaghast, about her faith, about the heroes of Thedas, about the rightfulness of her actions, about the divinity of her Herald.

“My people don’t pick leaders from the strongest, or the smartest, or even the most talented. We pick the ones willing to make the hard decisions… and live with the consequences.”

She doesn’t know enough about all of these people to figure out who would best suit his definition of a leader, barely having started to know them better, to fit in-between their orders and their skills. But as she thinks it over, she thinks it does make sense – especially as in these desperate times of need, so many people need others to make the hard decisions for them. No one wants to be the one having to bear the guilt of a choice, though everyone envies the laurels of praise that might come in good outcomes. But the balance is so delicately held together, and it so many times more tips towards destruction instead of success. The people just want someone to glorify, or someone to crucify. The Inquisition needs someone willing to wear both the glory and the condemnation.

It explains, however, how come he sits at the head of the Chargers. It explains, however, why he’s so proudly wearing his scars and his missing eye and why his people talk so highly of him.

As the silence lingers between the two of them, Bull breaks it.

“Ah, who knows. Maybe you seal the breach, the Chantry gets off its ass, and all those soldiers go home and get fat.”

She bursts out laughing, the 180 degrees switch in her thoughts and in the conversation making absolutely no sense, but pleased at the attempt to lighten up the situation anyway.

“You think?”

“It could happen. It won’t, but it could.”

She’s still laughing, a smile on her face, as she waves him goodbye, a messenger sent to get her for another meeting.

 ***

Then it’s when Leliana asks her to her tent, after Harding’s recent arrival to let them know of some scouting reports – but the surprising thing is that when she’s done, Harding is still around, sitting by the fire with a few of the soldiers, and Cremisius is next to her. When she’s warm enough, and fed well enough, she’s back on her scout duties, and the Herald takes the moment to occupy what was Harding’s seat just a few minutes ago, trying to smile at Bull’s man. He’s silently passing her a cup of tea, that she’s sincerely grateful for – no matter how much time she spends in the snow, she’ll never get used to the way her fingers go numb if she’s not wearing her gloves, probably forgotten in some meeting room.

She likes him because everything is straight-forward with him. He’s just a really good fighter that is part of a mercenary band that he cares about like no other, and it’s a loyalty and devotion that is obvious even from the way he speaks about them, the tone of his voice turning just a bit softer when he says the name of the people he entrusted his life with, over and over again.

So Trevelyan just goes for it: “I’d like to know more about The Iron Bull.”

“The Chief. First time I met him, he saved my life.”

Well, that’s one unexpected way of describing the Qunari leader of a mercenary group.

“That’s a story definitely worth hearing,” she pushes, sipping from her tea – and Cremisium maybe had figured out that she’s asking out of sincere curiosity, or he is just eager to tell the stories of their adventure together. One doesn’t simply become the most trusted man of a Qunari spy, and it’s not a title that many people can boast.

“I wasn’t a soldier at the time. I was in some trouble and trying to flee Tevinter. A Tribune and his men caught me in a border town tavern. They meant to make an example of me. Bull killed them. Gave up his eye doing it. He patched me up and asked if I was looking for work. I’ve been putting up with his jokes ever since.”

That last sentence grabs a smile out of the Herald, and Krem sits back more comfortably in his seat, pleased.

“That’s how he lost his eye?”

The eye patch is certainly the most unnerving and mysterious thing about Iron Bull. She heard the servants whisper in the tavern about it, and there are as many rumours about the story behind it as there are gossiping mouths in Haven. It probably doesn’t help that he’s a Qunari as well, and he automatically grasps the attention of everyone… well, across Thedas, really.

“Yes. The guards had me on the tavern floor when Bull came inside and yelled for them to stop. The guard had a flail. Bull put himself between me and the blow. Big horned idiot. Didn’t even know me.”

Krem’s voice turns soft, no bite in the offence, lost in the memory of that situation. Trevelyan thinks of the weapon, with its metal, spiked striking end, and how excruciatingly painful it must have been to get a blow in the face, losing an eye in the process. She doesn’t know why, but the fact that he hasn’t lost it in a gruesome battle, or while doing mercenary work, but simply trying to do the good thing and save the life of someone who didn’t deserve death, makes the outline of him in her mind switch.

“And about him being a Qunari, a-”

“A Ben-Hassrath?”

Trevelyan opens her mouth, closes it again, staring at this man defending his leader so fiercely, just by knowing a truth that she thought it should be a secret.

“I didn’t expect he’d tell you all that he was a spy.”

“Not the whole band, but those who’ve been around long enough to trust. He figures most of us would find out sooner or later, and it should come from him. It’s never messed up a job. He just writes letters back home. Lot of the boys write letters back home.”

She sits in silence, sipping at her tea, but no second feeling uncomfortable – her doubt not judged, his answers accepted. They’re just two people that care, in different ways, about the same person: one questioning and one defending. She considers his words and the information that she newly learnt, and how suddenly it makes Bull so much more than just a Qunari spy, or the leader of the Chargers.

If all her selves can exist inside of her, can it not be the same for everyone else around her as well? Cullen is a Templar, as well as just their commander, and a man trying to do right by his past mistakes. Cassandra is a Seeker and a Pentaghast and a warrior. Leliana is a spy master and a deeply religious person and a skilled, Orlais-trained assassin. Varric is a writer, a businessman, a spy and an adventurer. Josephine is the eldest daughter of the Montilyets, an ambassador and a tactician.

She thanks Krem for his time, and he grins at her.

 ***

It’s rare to eat lunch at all, as supplies are spare, so most of them are just keeping themselves busy until diner time. It’s even rarer to get to eat lunch, and when you do, to have it at the same time as other people. But as Trevelyan makes her way inside the tavern, she’s welcomed by the sight of Bull’s back, the musician tuning her mandolin, and a few of their recruits eating a very late breakfast, having woken up barely in time for their morning drills. It’s part manners and part want that makes her slide into the empty seat across Bull, at the same table.

“Hey Boss,” he says, and before she gets to, he gestures towards Flissa for one more bowl of warm soup, and he shoves the loaf of bread across the table, closer to her. She smiles, and she breaks apart a piece, starts eating it as it is, as she waits for her food. Bull has stopped eating his as well, and he waits as well.

“So, Iron Bull… How did you get the name ‘Iron Bull’?”

“I picked it,” he says simply, leans back a bit to allow space for the barmaid to place the new plate and cup on the table, before he returns, picking up his spoon at the same time as her. “We don’t have names under the Qun, just… I don’t know, job descriptions, I guess. When I came to Orlais, I chose ‘The Iron Bull’ for myself.”

She keeps her spoon between her lips as she pays attention to his words, a bad habit from her teenage years that she wasn’t able to get rid of, and so her question is somewhat muffled, makes her sound younger.

“But why specifically ‘Iron Bull’?

“This may surprise you, but I really like hitting things.”

She snorts in her spoonful of soup, the blow of air making all the contents fly back into her bowl, and she’s laughing hard now, Bull joining her a second later. She’s up on her feet, grabbing one of Flissa’s rags, cleaning up at her chin and shirt, as Bull’s laughter dies out. If her mother could see her now, even she’d swear, but as it is, she’s just enjoying her mishap, and clearly her lunch partner is doing so as well.

“Also, it’s the Iron Bull, technically.” He’s waving his spoon in the air to point at her in tandem with his accent falling on the word the. “I like having an article at the front. It makes it sound like I’m not even a person, just a mindless weapon, an implement of destruction… That really works for me.”

Well, she has seen him in a battle, he is all of those things, but she also knows there’s not a second he’s not aware of his people and how they are doing in a battle. He always jumps where the battle is heaviest and he’s incredibly scary swinging his axe around, a fastness in him that can’t seem possible for someone as large. And she also knows of Krem’s story, and how none of Bull’s actions can possibly be called, at any point, mindless or destructive. Heck, isn’t he here at all, tied to be her bodyguard and protect her in all Inquisition matters, just because he doesn’t want this whole world blown apart? But hearing it that he prefers it the other way around, she wonders what exactly she is supposed to believe at all.

So, she asks him about how he became a Ben-Hassrath instead. She knows parts of Qunari culture, just at a superficial level, nothing much but what every other Free Marcher put together during Arishok’s stay in Kirkwall. It starts at pure curiosity, though. Her world has been so narrow, and now it is getting wider and wider every day, with each piece of land walked, with each new ally that she recruits. She wants to be just to all of them, to thrown away the teachings of her family and the superstitions of her people.

She listens to his explanations, tries to piece it together with the book about the Qun that she asked Leliana to get her, that she found in the wares of the merchants she came across. Off the battlefield, even as he speaks of his people, Iron Bull is a refreshingly reasonable person, listening to everyone’s words with the same level of attention, attentively reading the gestures and expressions of those around him, and he replies in a calm matter that has nothing to do with his way of fighting. So even if he might be annoyed by her inquiries, he doesn’t show it.

They’re down only to the bread, that they’re now each grabbing a piece of as he keeps talking.

“They sent me to Seheron because they needed someone who could fight and hunt down problems. That whole island was a sack of cats. Incursions from Tevinter, Tal-Vashoth, and native rebels fighting both sides… And in the middle, me, trying to wrangle the rebels and restore order.”

If there is a place who can haunt a man for the rest of his life, then that place is Seheron.

“I can’t imagine that was easy.” She lets him take two pieces of the bread in a row.

“One day I woke up and couldn’t think of a damned reason to keep doing my job. Turned myself in to the reeducators. I thought about letting some rebel kill me, but I couldn’t give any of those bastards the satisfaction. The Ben-Hassrath ordered me to go to Orlais, ostensibly as a Tal-Vashoth, and work undercover. That’s how I ended up here.”

Trevelyan looks around, at the shoddy tavern that they’re in, with the food that always seems to have something missing, with their untrained soldiers, and with this one table that they’ve shared over the past half an hour.

“I’m glad you’re alive and; well, here, Bull.” It’s an intentional choice of words, and a one-word declaration: his name, but not its purpose. “If you ever need to talk more about all this, let me know.”

She offers even if she doubts he’ll ever take her up on it. Iron Bull gets up from the table, shouting his thanks to Flissa, before looking down again at this Herald, a young woman that is just extending her kindness to a man that she knows to be a trained spy and killer.

“Nah. It was a long time ago.”

 *** 

And then there’s that time when a few days pass by with her locked in meeting rooms, counting once and twice and thrice and then over again all the supplies that they need for the Hinterlands once again. And the next time that she sees the Iron Bull, is as he sits outside his tent, when she finishes talking with master Harrit about the horses that he wants and the Inquisition desperately needs, and that she’s supposed to get from one of her treks in that damned place. Sometimes just the thought of doing something tires her out enough to make her want to stop, though stopping is a luxury that she cannot afford.

And yet, she takes five minutes to hover by Bull’s side, asking him some more things about Qunari. She cannot even imagine not knowing who her parents are, so much of her life hinges on her relationship with her family, and so much importance is placed by humans on their ancestors and links. Heck, the Trevelyans have an entire tapestry up on the wall in their main hall, showing their entire lineage, decades and decades ago, names that have gone out of fashion and names that have shaped the Free Marches and the Chantry and the Templar Order. And out of all of that, she was born to sit at the last end of all those familial roots: made and raised to be who she is, simply because she was a Trevelyan.

How can she judge him his religion and his loyalty for it, when she herself comes from a long line of believers, when her own version is stifling enough that it makes a holy figure out of a mere woman? There is so much she doesn’t know, or if she knows, she doesn’t understand – so it is with open ears and curious eyes that she listens to his stories and lessons, even if they challenge everything that she thought was supposed to be the natural order of things.

And how can she truly criticize the Qunari rules, when her own parents asked much of the same thing from her? There were always the things that they taught she’d be best at, the roles she was expected to fulfil – and that was the width of her life, with all the classes she was made to take to build her into the best image of a young lady, with all the unwritten and unspoken codes of conduct, with the fragile honour and egos. Life back in Ostwick was simply following a path that has existed for the women of noble houses for centuries, and much like a Qunari, they were all just expected to follow through.

People are just people, everywhere.

She likes him, because in his rebuttal of her beliefs, she understands that, for him, she’s nothing more than a bratty noble, and she wants to both weep and hug the life out of him for not even considering the idea that she might be holy. With all the others, she can feel when their perception shifts: that sometimes they cannot believe her survival or her Mark, so there’s only the heavens to blame; that sometimes they watch her train or they have to explain something to her, and they sigh in relief at her simply humane limitations. But with Iron Bull, she’s always just his boss – and he doesn’t seem to care to make more out of her.

And then, maybe because she’s reminded of her life before all of this, or maybe because Bull pauses to look after a redhead new recruit, or maybe because he has not refused to answer any of her questions yet, she asks him about marriage and love. And hears about sex instead, her face turning redder and redder with each word out of his mouth, and Bull seems like he is enjoying both the topic of the conversation, the memories it’s bringing up, and the prude reactions from her. By the end, there’s a teasing edge in his voice, and Trevelyan is covering half of her face with the pair of gloves she’s holding in her hands, while glaring at him above them.

“You asked, Boss!” he shouts after her, when she comes up with an excuse, stumbling over her words, and she just screams back at him that he better be ready for the Hinterlands from tomorrow onwards.

[fereldentrashbag]

You guys know how in DA:I, your Mage!Inquisitor can say they had a crush on a Templar at their circle? Well, this is a short piece I wrote on my Inquisitor Nephele Trevelyan’s background, seen from the point of view of the Templar who was with her in the Circle.

Cillian. A proud name. A Templar’s name. A name he was born and bred to bear. A name that suited him no better than any other. The last of six children, Cillian was eight years old when his mother gave him to the Templar order. And Cillian was eight years old when he understood that he was not to go back home again. Six hungry mouths, and only one of them capable of sending away for money. Number one was born beautiful, and blind, and all she did was sit at home and sing to offer her mother comfort. Number two and three were born together, and would sleep for days on end. It was rumoured they were mages. Number five was born too early, and would never grow strong. But number six. Blessedly capable number six. Number six was born big and pink, and healthily screaming. His mother knew at once that this child would make her important where none of the others could. And he did not begrudge her that, not when he had learned to understand. She had come from Lothering, all those many years ago, fleeing the Blight and the wretchedness that came with it. A woman with no family, no education, who was a refugee in a village that did not want her – a Templar son would give her standing. Allow her a voice where nobody would listen before.

Cillian was twelve years old when he saw his first Circle. He had learned all about mages, and why they were to be feared. He had expected raving beasts when his teachers took him and the others in his class to the tall, round tower where the mages were kept. But instead he saw people. People who were angry. People who were scared. And he could tell apart the mages and the Templars only by the sword insignia on the Templar armour. He had looked into the face of a mage and had seen an expression so like the fear and confusion he saw in the youngest Templar recruits, freshly taken from home. It had been strange to see such a thing in the eyes of an old, old man. When his teacher had told him that though these mages were tame, they could never be trusted for it was in a mage’s instinct to destroy, he had wondered if it would become his instinct too had he been kept in a tower for simply being born.

Cillian was sixteen years old when he stood vigil at his first Harrowing. Though it was not his responsibility to render the killing blow should the mage being tested fail to resist the demon’s promise, he had felt sick nonetheless. It was not right. To decide a mage’s right to live by forcing them into an encounter with a creature designed to prey on their weaknesses was cruel. If the mage failed, they were killed. And these were the few who were lucky. Some were never given the chance to prove themselves. Their lives were snatched away in a different manner. The Tranquil. A mage snapped free of their magic. And their joys. And their desires. Only biddable husks left behind. Both were murder. He had watched that first Harrowing, and had seen the mage go angrily, fearfully, into the Fade. When they returned, they were changed. And he had smelled the stink of fear enter the room when the demon spoke through their mouth. But it had been their eyes that had haunted him most. Human, to the very last moment. And human still when their head rolled on the floor, stopping only to bump against his boot. The Templar to wield the deathly swing had looked down on the horror at his hands, and Cillian had seen him cry. And he knew then that this, too, was cruel.

Cillian was eighteen when he took his Templar vows and was given lyrium to make him stronger. Had seen what addiction had done to his teachers who had since grown too old to wear their uniform, and wondered who had made all these rules. Rules that taught one side to hate, and the other to be hated. Rules that stole the lives of the hunters and the hunted all the same. Rules that dictated using lyrium to give strength and special abilities was right, and ordained by the Chantry and the Maker himself, but using lyrium to create wonders and seemingly impossible feats was evil incarnate. It seemed to him that mages and Templars were much the same. He knew by then that he did not like what he did. He felt a wrongness watching these mages be herded like cattle and, eventually, slaughtered like cattle. Often he would think of number two and three and, with a sickening feeling, picture what would be done to them if they were found. But he understood that he had nowhere else to go. For by now the need for lyrium ached within his bones, and only the Chantry and the Templar order could give him what he needed. What they told him he needed.

Cillian was twenty when he stood vigil at a Harrowing once again. It was his turn, this time, to kill the mage should she fall victim to the demon. This mage was like many of the others before her. Angry. She had walked into the room with purpose, and had spared him only a cursory glance. “You will not be strong enough to stop me if I am possessed.” She had said. It had not been a threat or a boast. She was the most powerful mage to pass through the Circle in many years. Nephele. Cillian had learned her name before the Harrowing – it seemed wrong to not know. Hers was a powerful face. Strong, dark brows above eyes so blue they seemed to glow. Her hair was a long, silver-white braid, worn like a warrior. When she entered the Fade, she had done so fearless, but with contempt. Pride would be her demon. She was gone for a long time. So long they began to fear she would not come back. It was known to happen very rarely. Hours passed. The Harrowing had begun in the morning, and by the time she returned the sky was growing pink and passing into night. When questioned about her long absence, she wiped away angry tears and said, “I was freeing them. The ones who were trapped and left behind.” It was the first of many times he saw her. Though their conversations were sparse and short, they were no less treasured.

Cillian was twenty-two when another mage, far away, destroyed a Chantry. When the news reached them the air grew thick with tension. The mages went to bed quietly that night, but it was not their fear that made the air heavy. Over the next months, rumours and whispers began to crawl through the towns. Another Circle fallen. Another Circle freed. The mages and Templars changed. Some grew distant and terse. Others bonded together in relationships that seemed unexpected, and Nephele was sent away. Cillian stopped taking lyirum. It was on a night that was made impossibly long by the unyielding pain of his addiction that his Circle crumbled. The mages and those Templars who held sympathy for the violations they had been put through efficiently snatched away control. Those who tried to stop them were killed. And still he did not blame them, nor would he have stopped them if he had the strength to try. Then the sky itself tore open, and the world crumbled beneath it, and he was afraid. He saw Nephele walk among the ruins, shaking her head sadly at the destruction. When she found him, lying crippled but not with injury, she had laid her cool hands on him and a moment later the pain was gone.

“Such death, and for what? I could have put them all to sleep, and we could have run for the rebellion. But I suppose they wanted their vengeance as well as their freedom.” She turned to Cillian, who thought then, as he had for years beforehand, that she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, and rose to leave him – healed, but alone.

“Take me with you.” Cillian blurted, aware that he nothing to offer her. No protection. No money. Only company. Only friendship. Only love.

“I am not going somewhere you would like to follow me, Templar.” Nephele said, her back still turned.

And Cillian, quite earnestly replied, “I think I would follow you anywhere.”

“Even if I am going there?” She pointed up, to the tear the sky and reality.

“Even if you are going there.” He agreed. After a moment, she returned to his side, and helped him to his feet. Cillian saw a strange, green mark on her hand that glowed with the same eerie light as the hole in the sky, and an expression on her face of great suffering.

“My name is Cillian.” He said to fill the silence, surprised that he had never told her his name before. Nephele smiled at him, and held out a hand for him to shake. It seemed such a light-hearted action for the brevity of the moment.

“Nephele Trevelyan. Welcome to the Inquisition, Cillian.”

[kuno-chan]

Love Amongst the Dragons: Gales of Yesterday - Ch. 4, Freedom’s Wings

Summary: In a sentence, Prince Callum doesn’t care for dragons. He has his reasons for not being a fan, but the Dragon Ban has expired and now his life is full of them as the Dragon Keep has finished and everyone around him is preoccupied in making sure everything is ready for the Xadians arriving so the dragon rider’s training program may succeed. Now, Callum is up to his neck in everything that has to do with dragons as he does his best to satiate some dangerous curiosities, wrestle sorrowful memories and support his stepfather, King Harrow, in this time of redemption.

Rating: G

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It felt really weird carrying fish in a sack; it felt even weirder stealing fish from the kitchens, but Callum tried not to think about the strangeness of it. They wouldn’t miss a couple pieces of fish, but the Tempest could sure use them.

Callum tried not to let this whole endeavor freak him out. It’d all be fine. If the dragon took it without trying to kill him that is.

He thought about taking Ezran, but never really got the chance to ask. Ezran took off earlier that morning to… somewhere. Where to, Callum didn’t know. His little brother often snuck around the castle on some venture, and it often involved a quest for food. So, it didn’t exactly surprise him, but it was a little strange that Ezran left so early.

He put Ezran’s strange behavior behind him and set his mind on the task as he entered the keep. This time, he needed to be more discreet than his last visit, especially if he didn’t want Viren to catch him. Callum knew Lord Viren usually wasn’t there in the early mornings and late evenings. As high mage, he had other responsibilities to tend to, and there was a degree of delegation that needed attending if anything was to get done.

Callum made it to the Dragon Keep at first light, long before Lord Viren would get away from his high mage duties. Not that he knew what those were, but if it kept him out of his office area for a while, nothing else mattered.

The draft in the prison felt cooler this early in the morning; yellow light against a blue sky a calming backdrop through the rectangular windows in the stone wall. Callum needed as many calming elements as possible when he laid eyes on the Tempest. The Tempest seemed to have heard him coming, considering he already had an eye trained on the boy. Clutching the strap of his bag, Callum took a deep breath.

I can do this , he told himself. I can do this.

His body started shaking; red flashed in his peripherals, and with the sound of his mother’s wheezing voice sounding in the back of his mind he stepped forward. This was insane. This was absolutely insane. This dragon might bite him and then where would he be?

He took another step forward. Every step was painful, and excruciatingly slow, but something inside of him couldn’t back out or back away. If this dragon died when he could have done something… Callum wasn’t entirely sure he could forgive himself.

Maybe his stepfather was busy and maybe Lord Viren was beyond reasoning with when it came to dragons, but that didn’t mean starving them was okay. They were still living creatures, after all.

The Tempest’s nostrils flared and the black slit against his blue eye contracted.

A terrifying, living creature.

“It’s okay,” he tried to keep the shaking from his voice. “Look, I’ve brought you something.”

He pulled a fish out of the sack and the Tempest came to attention. Slow, careful, ready to strike attention. Callum could barely move anymore.

He would do this.

He could do this.

Callum closed his eyes and took another step to the cage. Then another and another until he was trembling, with his hands under the maw of this great beast that could take his hands off any minute--

The Tempest slurped the fish from his hands in a snap and Callum jolted. He opened his eyes.

The dragon was looking at him, waiting, like he knew Callum had another for him. Callum felt more than a bit faint. Quickly, he presented another fish and did the same routine. When he was out of fish, dragon and boy watched each other through the bars of the cage.

The Tempest’s eyes were bluer than anything Callum had ever seen. Electric, brilliant blue and sleek silver scales.

Like grey clouds, Callum realized.

The horns, a longer and a shorter set, made him look more regal. A lord of the sky itself.

Callum could see him flexing his crescent-shaped spines. Anticipation? Curiosity? His eyes were dilated, and it didn’t feel hostile.

The Tempest licked his lips.

“I don’t have anymore,” Callum explained. He had to get a hold of himself. He was still trembling. “But tomorrow. I’ll be back with more tomorrow.”

The Tempest seemed to understand the promise and breathed softly onto Callum. He went back to curl up in his cage.

Callum left, his knees so weak he was surprised he didn’t resemble a noodle upon leaving the keep.

-:-:-:-

When King Harrow asked Callum if he wished to accompany him on a walk through the castle, Callum sure wasn’t turning him down. It was just a walk of the grounds, see how the castle staff were doing, but Callum could see that perhaps it was also a much needed break for his stepfather.

They crossed into the courtyard and it was… different to see so many elves lingering about. They were respectful enough to keep their dragons in more designated areas, like the stables, and he noted how every elf did not have their dragon out. Some of them did, however, including Runaan with his dragon, Athena.

Callum heard laughter above his head.

It was the elf girl from yesterday, Rayla, flying around on her dragon, Luna. He could hear Luna making noises and Rayla laughing as they dipped and soared in the sky. At some point, they shot straight up into the sky before coming back down. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Runaan in a somewhat disapproving manner, but he just shook his head and let her go.

Luna circled above them and Callum could hear Rayla praising her.

It made Callum smile a little. They were sure having fun.

“Wondrous, isn’t it?” Harrow was watching them, too.

“Yeah,” Callum said. “They really love each other, don’t they?”

“It would appear so. To think, humans have been missing out on so much love in our lives.”

“You think so?” Callum glanced at his stepfather.

Harrow raised his brows. “Elves have a special relationship with their dragons. The ones they keep as companions, anyway. They bond with them. Love them in ways different than just having a pet. You could almost argue it’s the way Ezran loves Bait. You feel what they feel and they’re a joy in your life that’s not easy to describe.”

“How do you know all that?”

Harrow shrugged. “Call it a hunch. I’ve never quite had the experience myself, but I’ve seen it.”

Callum could sense a caveat at the end of that sentence. Gingerly, he pressed. “... and?”

“And I’ve ended some.” Harrow said gravely. “The war separated many riders from their dragons.”

“... that wasn't your fault. Not all of it.” Callum said quietly as they passed the courtyard.

Harrow put an arm around Callum. “Most of it started with my decisions. I can’t change the past, but that’s why this peace is so important, Callum. If we foster it, we can’t change the past, but the future will be better, brighter than ever. For us, the elves and the dragons. For all of us. I want you to see that. Remember it.”

Callum glanced behind him. He could still see Rayla flying high on Luna.

“So,” Callum tried to change the subject. “When are the elves visiting the keep?”

“Soon. There’s going to be a preliminary visit tomorrow. Nothing too thorough, but they’ll get a quick look at the place.”

“Preliminary?”

“Politics, Prince Callum. These are the kind of things I deal with. Promise me you’ll never get into politics.”

Callum laughed. “I’ll try.”

King Harrow patted Callum’s shoulder. “Good.”

-:-:-:-

The next day, Callum arrived at the keep before the Xadian’s visit. Preliminary visit, he reminded himself. Just to be smart, he told his stepfather he’d be down there already, early, to do some sketching. King Harrow had raised his brows at the idea, but commended his dedication.

Today, he managed to swipe three pieces of fish. That would probably be his limit from now on. The kitchen staff would eventually notice considerable amounts of fish going missing if he took any more.

Today, Callum still shook, but he’d come to expect it and that somehow made the walk a bit easier. The Tempest sat up slowly when he heard Callum. They were just as apprehensive of each other, just as watchful.

Step by step, Callum approached, each shakier than the last. He let the dragon eat from his hand and, again they watched each other through the bars. Today, he noticed the Tempest’s tail slowly moving on the ground behind him.

Later, Runaan and Rayla got a very broad tour of the Dragon Keep. They kept stony faces -- King Harrow called it a Moonshadow elf thing -- but Callum glimpsed Rayla again. Her tattoos had his attention. He wondered what they meant. Whatever they symbolized, he couldn't help but notice they kind of matched her eyes. The artist in him, perhaps.

He might have imagined it, but he swore she was watching him, too.

The next day, Callum brought three more fish and noticed the way the Tempest’s wings flexed ever so slightly. Before he left, Callum took a deep breath.

He relaxed his limbs.

He looked the Tempest straight in the eye.

“If I’m honest, dragons aren’t my favorite thing in the world, but I promise I won’t forget you. Not down here. Not anywhere.” Callum swallowed. “Just… promise you won’t eat me?”

The Tempest snorted. Callum wasn’t sure if he understood, and thought the notion was ridiculous, or if it was just that… snorting.

Elves have a special relationship with their dragons. The ones they keep as companions, anyway.

Callum didn’t fail to notice how he was still shaking even after all these days. How the thoughts from before still kept circulating, but--

But he stuck out his hand, anyway. Slowly, carefully. Palms face up like when he fed him, but this time Callum had no food to give. Nothing to give except a truce.

They bond with them. Love them in ways different than just having a pet.

More, if the Tempest wanted it. If not, Callum was about to lose his hands. Whatever mad idea this was, whatever rush of nonsense he’d been swimming in these past few days, maybe this was the ultimate result. Callum losing his hands to a dragon. His sketchbook would lay incomplete. He’d never pick up a pencil. Never draw again.

Panic blossomed in his chest.

It still felt like he was supposed to do this.

Why? Perhaps he’d realize it and regret it later.

Still, he held his hands out. A peace. An offer. The peace his stepfather believed in so much.

I want to believe it, too, Callum prayed.

And maybe that was why.

The moment felt like forever and a blitz all at once. He’d known this creature for what? A week? Less? Fed him a handful of times, but maybe…

Callum knew what it was like to feel trapped. All this dragon business made him feel like he was in a cage. Behind bars he couldn’t see, but couldn’t seem to escape either; then Callum saw those blue eyes; he saw them behind bars.

He saw them starving.

He saw them begging for freedom.

And Callum knew. They both wanted the same thing.

I want to be free , Callum still held his hands out, but now he also held the Tempest’s gaze. And I know you want to be, too.

They stood there for an eternity.

Then, the Tempest moved. Callum forced himself not to outright flinch, but the dragon brought his muzzle against Callum’s hand. He breathed softly into his palms and ran the dry scales of his face against the soft pads of Callum’s fingers. A truce. No.

More.

Callum’s lips twitched into a smile, then, a grin. He took his gloves off to feel the texture of the Tempest’s silver scales on his palm; he carefully ran his hands over the dragon’s horns, and the extra plates growing under and behind his jaw. Maybe his ears were under here? Did dragons have ears?

The Tempest sniffed at Callum, inspecting his clothes, his torso, his face. He licked Callum’s face, as if tasting it told him something humans and elves wouldn’t understand. The Tempest made a noise at him, a kind of satisfied warble. He put his head against the bars and made a friendly sound when Callum ran his fingers around the base of his horns.

“You want to get to know me a bit more, too, huh? Curious?” Callum laughed a little at the Tempest’s flexing crescent spines as Callum scratched the base of his horns.

The Tempest made another noise. An affirmation, perhaps. It sounded like it.

“We’re made of the same stuff, I think. You and I.” Callum smiled. The Tempest’s pupils dilated. “If we both want the same thing, then I guess we ought to go at it together. Right?”

The Tempest flexed his wings.

“Alright, then. Together. We escape together.”

-:-:-:-

“Listen, Ez, you had to have been there. It was-- it was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. They’re not like us, but they are, you know? I can feel it. I felt it.”

Callum was pacing the room; he’d come back to the castle and had been drawing the Tempest in his room -- free and uncaged -- until Ezran finally showed up. Callum didn’t even ask where he’d been this entire time. He just sat him down and told Ezran everything that happened.

He didn’t want to leave the dragon, but he described his time to Ezran. Ezran raised his brows, smiling. “Wow, Callum. You really feel all that?”

“I do. I really do. I just… there’s a connection you know? Or, at least, I could have one. Maybe something’s there.”

Ezran beamed. He looked down at Bait and hugged him. “There is. Most animals are willing to connect with us if we just see it.”

Callum laughed. “Well, I see it. They’re… incredibly intelligent and empathetic. I could be crazy, but I think he could really see me, you know what I mean?”

Ezran curled into bed, Bait at his side. “You have no idea.”

-:-:-:-

Viren settled himself against his desk in Katolis castle. He held his children’s attention.

“So, this dragon training program is good, right?” Soren asked.

“Of course it is,” Viren said. “The method in which we are going about it is… questionable.”

“The elves, you mean,” Claudia said.

The room was candle lit; he didn’t want full light in here today. He had a massive headache. Hours of roaring and growling dragons took its toll. The beasts were insufferable when they were all together, but trained… trained they could be a force to be reckoned with. Their force to be reckoned with. His human riders and his dragons.

The irony could not be lost.

“Our Xadian visitors are an investment the king considers necessary. We must humor them. In the meantime, we do as our king bids to the best of our ability. At the end of the day, these elves hold no real power in Katolis. When they leave, their wishes amount to nothing.”

Soren frowned. “But if the king wants to go along with what they have to say--”

“Then we will follow along to the best of our ability,” Viren snapped. His son’s… brilliance with the obvious was something to behold. Truly. “The king will delegate, and we will do what we feel is necessary for Katolis.”

Claudia frowned. “Dad, what are we going to do about the dragons though? We have to keep them happy or else the king won’t be happy.”

Claudia spoke the truth. Harrow had come to love the beasts in recent years. A complete turnaround from the first years after Sarai died, but Viren supported him, nonetheless. Still, it was high time he began churning some… creative solutions in his head.

“The king is doing what he feels is best for Katolis,” he told them both. “And, so will we.”