#kinloch stories

[ringofdoubt]

Uldred’s Harrowing Ch2

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46421830/chapters/117721156#workskin

When the templars had taken him from the apprentice quarters they had seen fit to blindfold him even in the dark. It would be laughable if it wasn't such an indignity - what good would a blindfold do in disguising the number of staircases he was being escorted up. It didn't take a genius to work out they were at the top of the tower - in the Harrowing Chamber.

[my-deer-history]

Francis Kinloch in Müller's letters to his family: Part 2

These extracts are from Johannes von Müller: Sämmtliche Werke, volume 7 (1810).

My translations here, original German and French transcriptions below the cut. Paragraph breaks added for clarity, and descriptive passages included in full for the Vibes.

19 May 1775, to his family

My situation is the happiest that you can imagine; the view from here is, beside the one from Bessinge, the most beautiful in the area; the clear view over the lake and into Switzerland is better than from Bessinge; my house is on a hill, the banks are covered with meadows, gardens and vineyards and appear to me like a great garden;

my friend is one of the most virtuous and flawless men, and our new occupation is the mutual effort to make each other ever more perfect; our business is that which I would choose from among all the occupations of humankind; everyone, even the farmers of the town, praises our quiet and industrious life.

It is quiet without being lonely, because many of our friends visit us now and then, or we them, for lunch or supper. A few days ago we were in Bessinge, yesterday Mr Tronchin came to me, on Tuesdays we are invited to dine at his home. At the end of the month, Bonstetten will come to me for a few days.

Everyone endeavours to contribute to our pleasure, and never in my life have I enjoyed something so great, so innocent, so full of learning. Although we have only been here for 19 days and are not bored, I feel like it has been 19 weeks: we have worked so much and it seems so improbable that I would be able to do all of this in so few days.

6 June 1775, to his family

An extract of a letter from Mr Thomas Boone, Esq., Mr Kinloch’s guardian: “With infinite pleasure, I assure you that of all the deeds undertaken by my young friend since he left me (and he has not done any that displease me), none have met with so much of my approval as the attainment of your friendship. If he had sought out scenes of luxury and wastefulness, he could have obtained the acquaintance of young people of the highest rank; closeness with the man of merit, genius and learning is not so easily established: planning, a desire to learn and morals are part of this. To attain your friendship, Kinloch must have had merits. As his friend, you will be pleased to hear from me that in his entire life he never made an acquaintance that was not creditable to him. I have sincerely discovered such insight, such cleverness in him, that I have decided to let him be the master of all his future dealings. I ask that you convey this to him; he will hear it with doubled pleasure from the mouth of his friend. Wherever you may be with him, he will, I am sure, learn more with you than at any other place. When he enters onto a larger stage, I will  advise him thus: at present he needs no guidance but yours. I approve of your plan entirely. You made Kinloch and me happy.”

I wrote to Mr Voltaire, who lives very close to us, a few days ago to say that K and I would like to come to him. [...] As he presented Mr Kinloch to the ladies, he said: “Here is a man, who comes from the land of savages but who does not look it!” He asked me where my tutor was? And then said to those present: “this young man with the face of a fifteen-year-old is himself a tutor; but simultaneously a historian of Switzerland; he has, like Aeneas, journeyed to the shade, that is to me.” Soon thereafter we were like old acquaintances. He has published a new text on the existence of god. The tall olive-coloured savage and the young delicate Swiss historian send their friendly greetings.

July 1775, to his parents

After a few days, according to his promise, my friend Mr v. Bonstetten came to me and also stayed with us, to our great joy. Our rooms are currently all occupied and my happiness has naturally been greatly multiplied by the union of my two friends, the white and the brown.*

[...]

My friend Kinloch and I are thinking to leave Chambeisi towards the end of August. From there to Lausanne, to Vivis, through the Bernese highlands to Thun, up along the Thun and Brienz lake to Haßli, over the mountains into the Urfern valley, out to Altdorf, overland to Unterwald, overland to Schwyz, past Gersau to Lucerne and Zurich, along the lake to Glarus, down the Rhine valley to Appenzell and St Gallen, from there to Constanz, and from there to Schaffhausen, through the four forest towns to Basel, through Pierre Petruis to Solothurn, then Neufchatel, Bern, Freiburg in Uechtland, Valeyres, back to Chambeisi through Waat, where we spend the winter with the sciences and Mr Bonnet's friendship.

*Kinloch, who appears to have had a notably darker or more tanned complexion to those around him.  

A map of the route, as best as I could get it to match up. Click for better quality, or view the interactive version here.

19 May 1775, to his family

Meine Lage ist die glücklichste, die du dir vorsstellen kannst; die Aussicht von hier ist nebst der von Bessinge die schönste dieser Gegenden; vor der zu Bessinge hat sie den offnern Horizont den See hinauf und in die Schweiz zum Voraus; mein Haus ist auf einem Hügel, die Ufer sind mit Wiesen, Gärten und Wein bewachsen und fallen wie ein großer Garten in mein Auge; mein Freund ist einer der tugendhaftesten und vollkommensten Männer, und unsere einige Beschäftigung ist die gegenseitige Bemühung, einander immer vollkommener zu machen; unsere Geschäfte sind solche, die ich unter allen Beschäftigungen der Menschen auswählen würde; jedermann, selbst die Bauren des Dorfs, rühmt unser stilles und arbeitsames Leben. Still ist es ohne einsam zu seyn, denn viele unserer Freunde besuchen uns bisweilen zum Mittag oder Nachtessen, und wir sie. Vor einigen Tagen waren wir zu Bessinge, gestern kam Hr. Tronchin zu mir, Dienstags sind wir eingeladen bei ihm zu speisen. Am Ende des Monats wird Bonstetten auf einige Tage zu mir kommen. Jedermann bemühet sich zu unserm Vergnügen beizutragen, und in meinem Leben habe ich nie so vieles, so unschuldiges, so lehrreiches genossen. Ob wir wohl erst 19 Tage hier sind und keine Langeweile haben scheint mir diese Zeit 19 Wochen zu seyn: so viel haben wir gearbeitet und so unwahrscheinlich scheint es mir, daß ich dies in so wenigen Tagen habe thun können. 

6 June 1775, to his family

Auszug eines Briefes von Hrn. Thomas Boone, Esqu. Hrn. Kinlochs Vormund: “Mit unendlichem Vergnügen versichere ich Sie, daß unter allen Handlungen meines jungen Freundes, seit er mich verlassen (und er hat keine vorgenommen, die mir mißfallen) keine bei mir soviel Beifall gefunden, als die Erlangung Ihrer Freundschaft. Wenn er sich in Scenen von Wohlleben und Verschwendung begeben hätte, so hätte er die Bekanntschaft junger Leute vom ersten Rang erhalten können; Vertraulichkeit mit dem Mann von Verdienst, Genie und Gelehrsamkeit ist nicht so leicht errichtet: Plan, Lernbegierde und Sitten gehdren hiezu. Ihre Freundschaft zu erlangen, mußte Kinloch Verdienste haben. Sie werden als sein Freund mit Vergnügen von mir vernehmen, daß er in seinem ganzen Leben keine Bekanntschaft gemacht, die ihm nicht rühmlich gewesen. Ich entdecke wirklich solche Einsichten, solche Klugheit bei ihm, daß ich beschlossen habe, ihn künftig Meister aller seiner Handlungen zu lassen. Ich bitte Sie, sagen Sie es ihm; mit doppeltem Vergnügen wird er es aus dem Munde seines Freundes vernehmen. Wo sie auch mit ihm seyn mögen, wird er, das bin ich sicher, bei Ihnen mehr lernen, als an allen andern Orten. Wenn er ein größeres Theater betritt, so will ich ihm rathen; gegenwärtig braucht er keinen Rath als den Ihrigen. Ganz und vollkommen billige ich Ihren Plan. Sie haben Kinloch und mich glücklich gemacht.”

Hrn. von Voltaire, der ganz nahe bei uns wohnt, schrieb ich vor einigen Tagen, daß ich mit K. zu ihm kommen wolle. [...] Als er den Damen Hrn. Kinloch präsentirte, sprach er: “Sehen Sie einen Mann, der aus dem Lande der Wilden kommt und dem man's nicht ausieht!” Mich fragte er, wo mein Gouverneur sey? und dann sprach er zu den Anwesenden: “dieser junge Mann mit dem Gesicht von fünfzehn Jahren ist selbst Gouverneur; aber zusgleich des Schweizerlandes Geschichtschreiber, Er hat wie Aeneas eine Reise zu den Schatten gethan, d. i. zu mir.” Bald darauf waren wir zu Ferner wie alte Bekannte. Er hat eine neue Schrift von der Existenz Gottes herausgegeben. Der große olivenfarbige amerikanische Wilde und der junge zarte Geschichtschreiber der Schweiz entbieten ihren freundlichen Gruß

July 1775, to his parents

Nach einigen Tagen kam zufolge seiner Zusage mein Freund, der Herr v. Bonstetten, zu mir und blieb zu unsrer großen Freude ebenfalls bei uns. Unsre Zimmer sind gegenwärtig alle vertheilt und meine Glückseligkeit ist durch die Vereinigung meiner beiden Freunde, des Weißen und des Braunen, natürlicherweise sehr vermehrt worden.

[...]

Mein Freund Kinloch und ich gedenken Chambeisi gegen Ende des Augusts zu verlassen. Von da nach Lausanne, nach Vivis, durchs Oberland bis Thun, den Thuner- und Brienzersee hinauf nach Haßli, über die Berge ins Thal Urfern, hervor nach Altorf, anzuländen in Unterwalden, anzuländen in Schweiz, Gersau vorbei nach Luzern und Zürich, den See herauf nach Glarus, das Rheinthal herunter nach Appenzell und St. Gallen, von da nach Constanz, und von da nach Schaffhausen, durch die vier Waldstädte nach Basel, durch Pierre Pertuis nach Solothurn, hierauf Neufchatel, Bern, Freiburg im Uechtland, Valeyres durch die Waat zurück nach Chambeisi, woselbst wir bei den Wissenschaften und Herrn Bonnets Freundschaft den Winter zubringen. 

[massgrav]

When the place of slumber becomes the wasteland of dreams There in the absence you appear Suspended above me in silence Casting death's Eye upon me

—

Still not over my own concept of abomination-Uldred... Becoming the essence of fear, nameless yet intimately known, deep within everyone's core ; and feeding with pride upon the terror he inspires.

[obessivedork]

TBH as a writer appreciating the set-up of a character I ADORE Vivienne but her lack of proper character arc & the inability to argue with her more is as infuriating as with most of your companions in DAI, if not more when you play a Mage because you CAN’T grab her by the shoulders and shake her and say Ma’am if you’d had worse luck and wound up literally anywhere other than the Circle you did wind up at you would be a fundamentally different person please for Maker’s sake admit out loud that you only like the Circles because you managed to etch yourself some limited social power out of the broken and corrupt system you might not otherwise have been able to get for yourself and therefore you have not suffered the true effects of it!!!!

[clavicuss-vile]

have i mentioned that i headcanon some circles (kinloch hold specifically) encourage very tightly tied styles for longer hair (usually plaited or braided) without much styling, on the surface for safety reasons (fire spells gone awry) but predominantly for subtly crushing individuality and exerting whatever control over the mages they can. The pressure usually lessens after an apprentice passes their harrowing and it's not mandatory, but very much encouraged. All apprentice robes look the same. All apprentices should have short or tied back hair. All apprentices should have no tattoos.

(Tattooing eachother is very much seen as an act of defiance, ESPECIALLY facial tattoos, and modification to the robes results in confiscation and new robes being given, but hair is far more relaxed. It would still earn quite a few comments especially from senior mages, but apprentices wouldn't be reprimanded for wearing their hair down or styled)

[oftachancer]

There’s new works up on AO3.

Ever wondered what Karl was like when he and Anders were younger? Yeah. That’s there. Check it out.

[mysterious-cuchulainn-x]

Sketches of Kinloch Hold!

I like maps, I like functional logistics, I go nuts when what I'm shown in-game is neither plausibly accurate nor presented in a way that lets me cleanly extrapolate a coherent picture of his things are in-universe.

Therefore, all of this. The tower's not a Circle bc I can't draw those, how sad.

[point-maitimo]

« I can give no more to the Templar Order, nor it to me. The Maker has shown me a new path; I must take it. »

Cullen's story is truly impressive! The path he took from a young templar traumatized by the terrible events in the Ferelden Circle to the Commander of the Inquisition army. I'm inspired by his example.

For the symbolism, I chose the Kinloch Hold, surrounded by water and shrouded in flames. It's destroyed just like Cullen's sword, symbolizing his state of mind. Lyrium flows behind him, a problem he has yet to face. And I really like the “lion” aesthetic in his armor, it’s a wonderful image that shows us his inner strength. And just look at these wonderful cat eyebrows! ^_^

[john-laurens]

Learned an absolutely wild story about Francis Kinloch today

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

I'm back on my bullshit thinking about the Hawke siblings again and how much I love a "both twins live" AU... but y'know what I love just a little bit more? An AU where all three Hawke siblings are alive, but one of the twins still get attacked by the ogre in Lothering and is presumed dead when they actually survived.

I like to think that since the narrative in DA2 is framed as a story Varric's telling Cassandra, we can play around with the fact that he's an unreliable narrator. Varric wasn't there in Lothering. He only knows what Hawke told him. It makes for a better story if Leandra, Hawke, and the surviving twin get to huddle around the dead twin and say their goodbyes... especially if they didn't actually get to do that. I mean, a lot of us already have that train of thought when it comes to Leandra's death and Hawke getting some closure through her final words telling them how proud she is. Whose to say Varric didn't do that for the lost twin, as well?

All that to ask what if the ogre attack happened, but the group was so overwhelmed by darkspawn they had to flee further and couldn't check the twin who "died?" Flemeth still showed up, but it was too late to go back and say goodbye.... so Hawke made a deal with the Witch of the Wilds and they all pushed forward to Kirkwall.

Imagine Bethany, left behind with broken bones and bleeding in the sand, fading in and out of consciousness as the remaining darkspawn surround her. She knows how to heal, how to fight back, but she's weakened. Her staff lays out of reach. Air shakes in her lungs. She tries to call for help, but only wheezes come out. Where's her mother? Her siblings? Did the ogre get them, too?

At this point, we all know what happens to the women darkspawn take, and Bethany could've met that fate; she doesn't have the strength to fight back as they drag her away. But before they can bring her underground, she's saved by another group of survivors. Perhaps they're more soldiers fleeing Ostagar, or townsfolk who recognize her from Lothering. They do what they can to treat her wounds but she needs a healer, so they bring her with them to seek refuge in Redcliffe... except they eventually realize she's an apostate. Well, she doesn't seem dangerous, but they still contact the templars.

Bethany wakes in a warm but unfamiliar bed with skilled healers tending to her. Templars hover by the doorway. First Enchanter Irving greets her, gentle in explaining she's safe inside of Kinloch Hold and that she's going to survive. When Bethany asks about her family, he gives her a sympathetic smile and says they only found her.

Bethany, who never took to embracing her magic the way her older sibling did and always felt like it burdened her family... has lost that very family. Could they survive the ogre and darkspawn? Or did the ogre tear them apart, too? How did she survive... but not them? Did the Maker really have such a sense of humor? How else would she end up in the Circle, a place her family went to great lengths to keep her safe from?

She doesn't want to think about it. She hopes they made it to Kirkwall, but the prickle of dread that crawls up her spine knows how unlikely it is. Bethany finds comfort in speaking with the mages who rotate in to heal and bring her food. Some feel trapped by their magic just as she does, but others remind her of her older sibling in the way they embrace their magic, a gift from the Maker. The younger apprentices who aid the mages ask her questions about what lies beyond the walls. The templars mostly keep their distance, but one is friendlier than others. A man with curly blonde hair and a sympathetic view of the mages bothers to speak to her more than his fellows do.

She's still in recovery when Uldred and his blood mages attack the tower, but she survives. Bethany heals, even as she's haunted by nightmares of the ogre wrapping its tainted hand around her body to crush her, flinging her aside to lay among the limp bodies of her family... haunted by the horrors the blood mages unleashed on the tower. She aids in restoring the tower the best she can, and accepts her new home, her new life. When she's well enough, she lights a candle for each of them; her father, mother, her eldest sibling, her twin... she even lights a candle for the family mabari, and prays to the Maker to give them her love as they stand at His side.

The Blight ends. Years pass. Bethany settles into her new life, becoming a fine example for the younger apprentices she mentors. She witnesses wrong doings against her fellow mages, loses friends to their harrowings or tranquility. She accepts what she is, even if bitterly. The Chantry's teachings about magic scar more than enlighten; she sees it in some of her fellow mages, feels it in herself. Secret meetings. Whispers of escape, of freedom. More escape attempts. Harsher restrictions.

Around this time, back in Kirkwall, Knight-Captain Cullen stands where he always does in the Gallows courtyard. He notices Hawke appear with some of their companions. It hurts to think back to Kinloch Hold, but something occurs to him: he knew of another Hawke who was brought to the Circle while he served there. They only spoke once before... well, before. He wonders if there's any relation. When Hawke wanders over to speak to him, as they always do, Cullen brings it up.

Hawke pales. A beat of silence. Cullen recognizes heartbreak; he sees it unfold in their eyes and swell in their throat as they realize that all this time, their baby sister was alive.

Then the day comes where new whispers float among the mages in the Circle. A visit by a Grey Warden. Most, including Bethany, assume he's here to recruit... until Irving comes to her. He says this warden's requested, though more like insisted, he see her now. But then Irving smiles; the warden in question said his name is Warden Carver. He received an urgent letter that his sister is here, alive, and he demands to know if that's true.

Bethany nearly collapses when she sees him.

While the reunion can't last; she can't leave the Circle and he has his calling; the twins embrace, sobbing out apologies and exclamations that they thought the other was gone. Carver tells her of Kirkwall, the expedition that led him to the Grey Wardens, and their older sibling's status as Champion. With a gentleness she never knew her brother to have, he tells her what happened to their mother, and more tears flow freely. Their sibling learned about her from a templar, though Carver grumbles that the bastard could've said something sooner.

There's the Maker's humor again.

...Now flip the script: imagine Carver being left behind instead.

For as strong and passionate as he is, that ogre still picks him up and slams him to the ground. Bones crack. Black splotches flood his vision, agony exploding across his skin. His sword flies from his hand. The soulless bastard tosses Carver aside like he's nothing, and he's left to lay there. His mother's cries muffle in his ear as though he's stuck underwater, sinking slowly into the dark.

It figured, honestly... that he'd survive Ostagar while his fellow soldiers were cut down all around him, that he and his eldest sibling would flee the field when all hope was lost... that he'd make it home to get his family out of Lothering... only to die protecting his mother. And why not? He is a protector. A warrior. It's a honor to die saving those he loved... so why didn't it give him peace?

Carver eventually wakes in the night among the bodies of fallen darkspawn. Everything aches painfully hot and his thoughts reject coherency. He knows his family is gone; they're dead, or they've fled... either way, he's alone; left behind. Something's broken inside of him, but he has just enough will to pull himself up at the sound of approaching footsteps. A group of survivors find him- funny enough, the same group who aided Bethany in an alternate timeline. Imagine that.

That's how Carver ended up in Redcliffe's Chantry with an overworked healer tending to him. He doesn't even flinch when the mage works their magic on him, knowing all too well the sensation of healing magic seeping into his skin, mending the flesh. He tries not to think of Bethany, or what might've happened to her.

The Chantry's overwhelmed with townspeople hiding from a danger outside that he can only assume is darkspawn... except it's not. He wonders how hard he hit his head when he hears the undead have come from the castle to slaughter what they can of the town every night. But then he sees it with his own eyes when one breaks in, taken down by a templar, and never before has he ever felt so useless.

Then the last two remaining Grey Wardens arrive. They're crucial in the final fight against the undead, swearing to enter the castle to stop the attacks at the source. While Carver couldn't participate in the final fight, something he complained loudly about, he did what he could in his condition to help like sharpening swords and handing out supplies. Mostly to keep his sanity and quite his thoughts throughout his recovery.

When the time came, he took up his sword again in the name of all those he lost.

An archdemon was said to be on the horizon, and the Grey Wardens needed everyone they could get to fight. Carver fights in the battle of Denerim where the Hero of Fereldan defeated the archdemon. He cuts his way through every darkspawn he sees. Ostagar flashes red behind his eyes. Lothering clutches at his heart. So much anger and sorrow built up inside him, flooding out in his tears and screams. Blood everywhere. Fire and smoke.

Then it's over.

In the aftermath of the Blight, like so many others, Carver has no home to return to. No family. He thinks to go back to Lothering to help rebuild, only to hear the lands were too tainted. These tainted creatures took everything from him... That's what eventually brings him to Vigil's Keep, standing before the Hero of Fereldan themself, asking to be made a Grey Warden. He already dedicated nearly two years of his life to killing darkspawn, and he had nothing else. Even when faced with the Joining, holding the chalice of darkspawn blood and being told to drink, he didn't flinch.

Life as a Grey Warden isn't as simple as he assumed it would be, but Carver finds purpose in his calling. Over the years, he grows to view his fellow wardens as family. He travels all over Thedas, venturing down into the Deep Roads to help clear out hoards of the darkspawn. But then comes the day he finds himself in Kirkwall, and it doesn't take long before he hears the name Hawke on the lips of the townspeople. His eldest sibling was not only alive, but they're quite popular among the people. But what about Mother? Bethany? He doesn't have to snoop too far to learn templars took Bethany away to the Gallows, and that Leandra Hawke was the final victim in a string of murders committed by a blood mage.

Carver finds himself standing outside the estate, glaring at the door. Furious. Heartbroken. Bitter. He wants to scream. This entire time, they lived. He's torn between wanting to reunite with his older sibling again, to get the truth from them, and wanting to barge into the estate, demanding answers to how they could let the Circle take Bethany... after what Carver sacrificed, how could they let Mother die like that? Was it all pointless in the end?

He leaves without knocking. He can't bring himself to see them. Not that it mattered. Before he could leave Kirkwall, the tensions with the qunari finally overflowed, and chaos fell upon the city. He's forced face to face with his older sibling again, but he wasn't prepared to watch the recognition slowly bloom on their face, or for all his anger to turn to mush. Carver's the first to speak.

"Somehow, I knew it would be you."

.............So, yeah. I really like this idea.

[hammyham-o-o]

Favorite thing that John Laurens did historically?

Guys, I gotta admit, for such a huge John Laurens fan (both musical version and historically) I barely know about ANYTHING he did irl other than write essays against slavery, recruit 3000 men for the first all black military regiment, witness wayyy too many of his siblings die, be in love with hamilton, and be a kickass soldier. (Oh and the whole marrying out of pity and then never visiting his daughter thing. And the sexism, but I'd rather not dwell on that -_-)

AND THE TURTLE DRAWINGS MUAHAHAHA (guys I'm kidding I know he wasn't actually obsessed with turtles, but he did love art and nature, right?)

WAIT I THOUGHT OF SOMETHING OMG-

So I once read a Tumblr post about historical John Laurens being left handed (there's an amazing depressedrevolutionariesinlove comic about this too !!), and more specifically about one time when he got injured in his right shoulder in the midst of battle, and just tossed his sword to his left hand and absolutely ANNIHILATED the soldiers he was fending off. Imagine their absolute SHOCK when they think they've won because "hahaha his sword hand is knocked out" and then BOOM he's even better with his left? 😂

I'd link the post if I remembered where it was from arghhh, possibly @john-laurens? (GREAT blog by the way)

I also read part of the SALTIEST letter from Laurens to Kinloch once, but unfortunately don't remember where I could find it or what exactly it was about, other than this man's passive agressivness was through the ROOF lol (does anyone know what I'm talking about?)

So, in hindsight after writing this essay (😭), I do know quite a bit about John Laurens... but I still feel like there's SOOO much I don't know (and plz correct me if I got anything wrong in this post!) Also, I'd LOVE to hear any funny or notable stories you guys have about him!! :D

What's your favourite historical John Laurens moment (moots and random people who see this)??

Maybe we could make a chain!!! :DDD

Also just a lil note in closing, my favourite thing about him historically is probably his bravery, passion for justice/abolitionism, and love for hamilton because live laugh lams <3

[ringofdoubt]

i so regret establishing in my Kinloch stories series that Rhys wasn't interested in Niall. I could have written the nichest smut this fandom has ever seen 👀

[glowing-blue-feathermage]

Happy Friday!!

These lyrics really say Anders to me...

"I haven't slept in three days, and my fears dance around as I lay here awake,"

❤️

ty for the prompt darling! sorry not sorry for the angst.

for @dadrunkwriting

The first night he’d cracked jokes when they’d tossed him into the holding cell, hanging on the bars, arms twined through them while he chattered away. He told the funny parts of the short story of his last escape attempt, like the time he’d been thrown out of an inn without his shirt, and had to hide until dark when he could sneak in through a back window and steal another one. The story wasn’t really funny—it had been mid winter, he’d been starving, cold, and had nowhere to sleep that night. He’d just meant to remind the guard that Anders was harmless. That’s why they always caught him, and always let him live.

A week passed, and no guard in the rotation would speak to him. He got his meals through a slot in the door, had a bucket they changed once a day, and only a single window to show the passage of time but which was too high to see through. 

On the eighth day they opened the cage and Anders had managed to keep his relief and giddiness at impending freedom suppressed, so they didn’t picture themselves as his saviors. 

They weren’t. They weren’t there to save him. Instead, they marched him through the halls and down the stairs to the dungeon. 

It had been three days since they'd locked him in and he hadn’t slept a minute of it. The cell they shoved him into was small, damp, and black. There was no cot—just filthy, bug-infested hay and a sewer drain they expected him to piss in. He’d slept in worse conditions on the run, but never somewhere he couldn’t leave.

Anders had felt fear in Kinloch Hold many times. He’d felt it on the road behind every moment of freedom that he claimed, always waiting for them to come.

He waited for them to come now, but they didn’t. A templar scuffed down the stairs and into the dungeon twice a day to leave his meals. They didn’t speak, even when Anders begged to know when he would be released, begged to speak to the First Enchanter, begged for light. There was none. Not even a candle. 

His only company was fear, and an image that replayed itself over and over in his mind—a sunburst brand. They had another plan for him now, not the light security of the upper holding cells, which was a vacation palace compared to this. He had finally worn through the good grace his charm had always won him. 

It could only mean one thing. And he’d had the runed clasps around his wrists for weeks now. Not even a chance to say goodbye to the part of himself that would soon die. To Compassion, his spirit, who would be lost with it.

Anders wasn’t sure how long he’d been in the cell when he finally started scratching crude lines on the wall with a chuck of mortar he clawed from between the stones. 

On the day he’d carved ninety marks—three months of insomnia, hunger, and hopelessness—the cat appeared.

[vultures-and-scavengers]

its not even that i like cullen (im lesbian af), and like im meh about his in-game portrayal and im REALLY not a fan of his "but you're one of the good ones" mage romance but like.

he's my blorbo and its entirely unwillingly. he just could have been so much more interesting.

he's the one ferelden in the room. the one commoner. the one person who has actually seen the horrors of both the templar order (they take in infants and children who will be given lyrium and leashed to the order, thats so fucked up) and the circles (magic is, actually, fucked up and they dont do a good job showing it)

and he has nothing to say about mr "im gonna retake ferelden" gaspard? like dude you grew up in a poor farming village and your parents almost certainly knew people who fought or were killed in the fight to kick orlais out.

his dislike for the nobility only comes up as a joke played for laughs, but like. he's a commoner. yes he joined the templars at 13, but you're telling me all those political intrigues and games the nobility play never affected his life? they laugh in their gilded halls and his family struggles to put food on the table and he has nothing to say about us sucking highborn dick the entire game?

the irl military has systemic issues with assault, and hell, you could have said something about that via the templar order, pointing out how higher ranks can easily abuse the lower ranks, especially with access to lyrium. you could have had something interesting to say about the chantry holding the templars as these holy warriors and then you get in and they call the leash that means you can never leave a gift because its going to steal your memories, which will be filled with blood and horror?

mages versus templars, the rot within the chantry, ferelden versus orlais, classism, imperialism, ptsd, addiction, etc. he could have touched on all these subjects but instead we get... vague references to da2 and kinloch and two scenes about him trying to break free of addiction that imo dont handle it... the best?

like, im a firm believer in the idea that all characters have stories to tell and things to say, and when characters are written with these things in mind, it can make them much more interesting. not that they should be used to preach-- its better to have a wide variety who have different things to say but you can see why they would say those things and have interesting discussions about it.

and he. exists. i admit the coin cutscene is very cute and im begrudgingly fond of the way he keeps the house castle secure while the inquisitor goes off and fights and he never pulls any 'im going to do stupid thing because you're going into danger and i dont want you to'. i like that he never tries to control the inquisitor and im absolutely tickled by him still saluting a romanced inquisitor in the post-perseverance cutscene. what a dork.

tl;dr, i guess, he's my blorbo and im mad about it because i only sort of like him but he could have been so much better. i also think he should have been a rivalmance.

[crows-of-buckets]

I FINALLY FINISHED THE REF SHEET WOOO IVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR A FEW DAYS NOW!!

ANYWAYS. HERE IS MY MAIN WARDEN!! Aviae Surana the loml. While she romanced Alistair, post inquisition her and Morrigan fall in love and get married that's the most important thing you should know about her. She loves her wife and her new son very much tyvm

Some of the scars on Avi do have like. A story. Like the one on her neck came from a Templar when she was younger. The Templar was removed from Kinloch hold at Irving's insistence but that did NOT make it better. She tends to wear stuff to cover her neck because she's embarrassed of it (haha totally didn't do that as a reference to the stupid neck seam the models have 💀). The bite marks on her left hand came from a darkspawn, and the small burn on her right hand is from where she tried learning fire magic

Also there WAS gonna be more concept art I did under the cut however. Tumblr is incapable of formatting things correctly (apparently)

[cullenakingirog]

Finally finished the outfit lineup for Sebastian Isandro "Bastian" Hawke y Amell!

He's in my verse I call "The Stick-Together Families" aka a Warden Amell and twin Hawkes as Champion and Inquisitor!

TLWR:

29 y/o

Warrior

Romances Fenris and Orana (doesn't sleep with either until Act 3 for Fenris and a year later for Orana)

Leaves Bethany behind in Kirkwall (Circle Mage Bethany)

Kills Anders

Sides with the mages

Interested in commissioning me? Click the source! 💗

Sebastian was separated from his twin brother who allowed himself to be taken in after distracting templars with his magic when Bethany's own magic manifested.

This led to him being resentful towards her and his parents. He got close to Carver who let him feel his bitterness amd anger instead of going be glad Bethany's still here or your brother did the right thing. So when Carver died he did not handle the loss well.

At 17 he helped his twin brother escape Kinloch Hold with the help of Teresa Amell, his brother then leaves his medical book behind to Bastian with a decoder for the code he wrote it in.

Agustino Hawke sailed for the Free Marches with Bastian giving him all the coin Sebastian had on hand along with new clothes and papers.

He worked as a mercenary and chose to not nteract with others much outside his work but come Act 2 where he could afford indulgences, he bought a small library's worth of books. Most of them being books on philosophy and poetry and medicine (to compare notes to his twin brother's medical notes)

Fenris learned to read with Bastian's help, at one point Sebastian indulged Fenris' request for him to sing from the Chant book he had on hand. Orana learned to read and write with Sebastian and Bodahn's help.

There's more to Sebastian's story but that's all I could write atm so far!