#tevinter better be in better shape next time

[evanhereonearth]

Solas, outnumbered seven to one, overpowered by a lot more than that, betrayed by his best friend Mythal who bound him to her service and coerced him into leaving the Fade and coerced him into making a weapon that would make an entire people tranquil to stop the war she started AND ignored him when he said it would create *checks notes* a blight and made him do it anyway. Solas, facing seven blighted wannabe gods who turned on his best abusive friend Mythal when she finally stood up to them after CENTURIES of him begging her to do just that and starting a rebellion to free all their multitudes of slaves: *creates the veil, imprisons the blight and the Evanuris, and preserves all life in Thedas* World: FUCK THE DREAD WOLF, GOD OF TREACHERY AND LIES *worships the Evanuris and their dragon thralls*

Solas: zzzzzzzzzz (knocked out cold from saving the world for LITERALLY SEVERAL MILLENNIA MORE)

Tevinter: *razes what's left of Elvhenan, steals all their magic, enslaves the elven people for entire length of Solas's world-saving-induced coma*

Also Tevinter: *breaks into the fucking black city and brings out the blight*

Also also Tevinter: *uses so much blood magic that the veil ends up in tatters*

The Blight: >:)

World: fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck *throws everything they can at the blight, including--*checks notes again*--the blight

Orlais: you know what sucks? elves. let's kill them all

Ferelden: good shout, mes amis

Orlais: you know what also sucks? mages. put them in prisons.

Ferelden: you're full of good ideas when you're not invading us

Free Marches: MAGE PRISON, YOU SAY?

Orlais: add templars who can decide to murder them or make them tranquil on a whim at any moment

Ferelden and Free Marches: *frantically taking notes*

Rivain and Nevarra: we're just going to be...over here...

Blights 1-5: i've got a great idea i've got a great idea

Blights 1-5 after a while: my great idea didn't work :(

Archdemons 1-5: ....... :(

Evanuris 1-5: ......... :(

Solas, waking up in 9:40ish Dragon: what the...WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCKING FUCK. they can just KILL MAGE CHILDREN? AND PURGE ALIENAGES? AND ALMOST EVERY ELF IN TEVINTER IS A SLAVE? *absolutely rabid, seeks out the Dalish, as remnants of his people*

The Dalish, at Solas: *ARROWS*

Solas: ......fuck this shit, fuck all of this shit, fuck these tyrants in particular, fuck this fucking...UGH

The veil, after all this: (o.O:0oO.)

The remaining blighted Evanuris and the 99% of blight that did not escape: :)

Solas: well, that is a problem, going to need to address that ASAP, but turns out millennia of coma doesn't leave a spirit spry

Corypheus, busting out of warden jail: I AM FREE

Solas: hm, could kill that guy letting him unlock my orb, since he broke into my blight prison in the first place and defo deserves dying

Corypheus: veil needs a certain je ne sais quoi, a...bigger hole. i will make one.

Wardens: yes, good plan, blighted magister man. we are in control of the blight inside us and also heroes *in death, sacrifice = divine justinia's ritual sacrifice under thrall*

The veil:

O

Corypheus: >:( but like...not dead

Solas: well, i did not see that coming

Lavellan: *in chains, threatened with execution*

humans: KNIFE EAR >:(

Lavellan: *hole in the sky, hole in her memories, hole in her fucking hand* fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, wait, this hole in my hand helps close holes in the SKY

Solas: *.* It seems you hold the key to our salvation

Lavellan: i'm sorry what

humans: HERALD OF ANDRASTE!!!!!!!! *falls to knees*

Lavellan: I'M SORRY WHAT

Chantry: *choking in the corner*

Cassandra: time for you to decide the fate of the world

Lavellan: I'M. SORRY. WHAT???????? you know what? fine. *stops alexius from blood magicking his way through redcliffe and time itself, gets punted into a hellscape of nightmares and makes it back with the help of a rebel tevinter mage* the mages i rescued from becoming probable slaves to tevinter are our allies and dorian is my new best friend for being the only reason i made it back alive and the whole world didn't die *dabs*

Cassandra: >:(

Mother Giselle: >:(

Lavellan: ffs

Corypheus: *dragon temper tantrum*

Lavellan: *somehow escapes both dragon and Corypheus, trudges through blizzard, collapses*

Mother Giselle: *.* I FEEL A SONG COMING ON

Literally everyone but Solas: *falls to their knees*

Solas: a word?

Lavellan: OH THANK HEAVENS

Solas: these people are wack and aren't going to like that Corypheus is using elven magic *cough*, they're a hairsbreadth from executing us at all moments lol, btw here's a castle, you know, for you cos i highkey see myself in you and god i'm so fucking lonely

Lavellan: me too but wait, what the fuck is happening. you know what? fuck it. solas, what if we kissed,,, in the fade

Solas: what IF we kissed,,, in the fade *fade tongue*

Solas: ...you continue to surprise me. you show a wisdom i have not seen...since my deepest journeys into the fade!

Lavellan: don't you dare walk away from me now

Solas: okay vhenan i stay

Vivienne: this is a DEMON and NOT A PET

Lavellan: *blinks* right, no, this spirit kid who is the literal only reason we escaped Haven alive is my son now. if he hadn't read roderick's mind we'd all be avalanched or blighted dragoned, so SUCK IT UP

Vivienne: >:(

Cassandra: >:(

Sera: >:(

Bull: >:(

Varric: >:(

Solas: :D

Wardens: btw we're doing blood magic and raising an army of demons. not really our fault but also not NOT our fault? idk, blight in the blood, morally grey area. get it? grey...war--never mind, we'll be at adamant xoxo

Cullen: lotsa soldiers gonna die

Lavellan: fuck, is there another choice?

Advisors: ...no

Cory's dragon: *burninating the adamant, burninating the wardens, burninating all the people and this crumbling ROCKY BRIIIIIIDGE! CRUMBLING ROCKY BRIDGEEEEE*

Lavellan, flying through the air hundreds of feet towards the ground: fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck *opens a rift into the fade*

Everyone but Solas: FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK WE'RE IN THE FADE

Solas: we're in the FADE!!!!!

Lavellan, after escaping the nightmare's lair: glad half the team is pissed at me, what's next, an imperial ball? how hard can that be?

Orlesians: they invited an ELF SAVAGE >:(

Lavellan: you know what, fuck this and fuck Celene for genociding the entire Halamshiral alienage and fuck you, Gaspard, you can be Briala's little French Orlesian bulldog

Half the Inquisition: *shocked pikachu*

Morrigan: allow me to shemsplain all of elven history to everyone, including Solas, yourself, and all the ancient elves in this temple

Lavellan: you know what? okay. *rubs at Mythal's vallaslin, makes eyes real big* who is this "Mythal"

Solas: *choking in the corner*

Cassandra, muttering: i do not want to do a ritual to a false god

Morrigan: lemme have the well, lemme have it, i deserve it more than you

Lavellan: ...abso-fucking-lutely not *drinks from the well out of pure spite*

Solas: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, VHENAN

Lavellan: idk vhenan, this world sucks and i wanna make it better and i love you

Solas: ...you are everything and you inspire me, hurry, i need to tell you i'm the dread wolf but am going to break up with you and remove your slave markings instead and btw they're basically a drawing of me in my true form and honestly, this whole thing is real fucked up and you're the only real person in my entire life who sees me

Lavellan: wait what

Solas: i'm bad and don't deserve you and had to harden my heart to save the world before and everyone hated me for it so i'm projecting when i say you must harden your heart to a cutting edge to kill Corypheus, I'll explain after we kill him

Lavellan: ...oh yeah guess we should do that but I gotta go meet Mythal first

Solas: wait what

Mythal: *is Morrigan's mum, is only mostly dead, also 100% cool with overriding her servants' will entirely for shits and giggles, 0/10 do not trust* i'll help you if you fight this dragon lol

Morrigan: *choking in the corner*

Corypheus: *has a mahoosive temper tantrum when Mythal's pet dragon kills his pet dragon, dies*

Solas: ;-; ilu, inky, what we had was real but i'm afraid to do to you what Mythal did to me. I MUST AWAY

Lavellan: ....

World: HERALD OF ANDRASTE!!!!!!!!!!!!*

*some restrictions may apply, like in a couple years we're going to forget everything you did and be real mad at you

Solas, somewhere: been there, vhenan

World, two years later: :D we're here to hate you, right on schedule

Qunari: you are in need of the gentle path. therefore, we are coming to kill you all

Solas: like hell you will. but come to think of it, this is a good excuse to see vhenan again

Lavellan's arm: TIME TO DIE

Solas: defo another good excuse to see vhenan again. probs should study that arm anyway

Lavellan, after several Qunari too many: CAN ANYTHING IN THIS FUCKING WORLD STAY FIXED

Inquisition, including Divine Victoria: *shocked pikachu*

Lavellan: i'm going back through the fucking looking glass to talk to some ancient elven sentinels with Mythal's magic whisper well, they're the only fucking thing that makes sense here

Qunari: *destroying everything in sight but getting hounded by the dread wolf at every step*

Lavellan, whose arm is trying to kill her but is following Qunari through her own people's magic mirror world: ...i think i'm in love with the dread wolf

Companions: pfffffft

Cole: :D YES, YOU ARE AND HE LOVES YOU TOO

Lavellan: thank god i have you, cole, my spirit son

Solas, in a statuary garden of petrified Qunari: i suspect you have questions

Lavellan: honestly, fen'harel, not really

Solas: *shocked pikachu* well done

Lavellan: i'm real tired and you could have just trusted me back in Crestwood.

Solas: this world is broken, i must tear down the veil

Lavellan: yep, i'm one "knife ear" away from putting a knife in the next human's ear who says it tbh, i'd rather live in the fade with you and my spirit son, can i help you pls vhenan

Solas: ...no

Lavellan: wtf

Solas, internally panicking because he followed Mythal wherever she went and she dragged him to literal hell and trauma and now his one true love is offering to follow him while he probably makes things worse again: absolutely not, no, but i love you forever

Lavellan's arm: >:(

Solas: ...right, i gotta take that

Lavellan: wait what

Solas: i will never forget you *trundles through mirror with severed arm*

Lavellan: oh fuck my entire life, you know what, Ferelden and Orlais? Inquisition is no more, i'm going on sabbatical to Stone Bear Hold where at least people are not insane and Storvacker loves me, and then i'm going home to the castle vhenan gave me. don't call me. byeeee

ten years later

Varric: gonna go stop Solas, who invented the veil and is From Fade, from doing things i don't understand, wish me luck, inky

Lavellan: WAIT ONE GODDAMNED SECOND I'M COMING WITH YOU

Varric: no <3 i found a complete rando who will fuck everything up

Rook: hey, what if i drop a statue on this nuclear arsenal protecting the biggest biological weapon of mass destruction known to all of thedas? that'll help

Neve, a literal mage who should know even small rituals can blow up and kill you: probs not a good idea but Varric, a dwarf who knows nothing about magic or the veil or the Fade whatsoever says this ritual must be stopped At All Costs By Any Means Necessary so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Varric: Solas I will shoot you with Bianca

Solas: ffs stop *breaks Bianca*

Varric: can you promise me your way is better

Solas: i know way better than to make promises like that, have you seen this world???

Varric: GOTCHA, YOU LYING LIAR WHO LIES

Rook: TIIIIIIIIIIIIIMBERRRRRRR

Varric: defo going to attack the guy whose millennia of existence has been centred on this massive magical problem i do not even comprehend a little after waiting ten years to ask a single question about it when he'd already got going *tries to stab Solas*

Solas, feeling everything he's spent all of world history protecting the world from breaking out of jail: turns the dagger and stabs Varric instead

Elgar'nan: >:)

Ghilan'nain: >:)

Solas: oh for fucking FUCK'S SA--*exit, stage Fade Jail*

Blight: >:)

Rook: oops

Neve and Harding: omg this could not possibly be our fault at all, not even a little. it's Solas's fault, the lying liar who lies

Lavellan: i will not murder this stupid child, i will not murder this stupid child, i will not murder this stupid child

Morrigan: we have to help the stupid child

Lavellan: we have to help the stupid child

Morrigan and Lavellan: *look at each other*

Lavellan: when this is over, i stg--

Morrigan, who has millennia of memories of Mythal abusing Solas and decades of Flemythal abusing her: yeah no i will throw you a going away party and take care of Dorian for you and help you get your boyfriend back and no way will i fight him, this is actually ridiculous

Ferelden, Orlais, and the Free Marches, all of whom turned on Lavellan ten years ago: hELP help HELP there's BLIIIIIGHT

Lavellan to Leliana: you owe me a hundred gold

Leliana: *hands over a solid gold nug*

Ferelden: X_X

Orlais: X_X

Free Marches: X_X

Lavellan: *grits teeth* i better go meet with rook

Rook: andaran atish'an, honoured inquisitor

Lavellan: yo. sure would be nice to be meeting without our gods, you know, destroying absolutely everything i've spent a quarter of my life protecting and rebuilding after the last apocalypse but here we are i guess

Morrigan: *smirks at shade*

Northern Thedas: ROOK IS THE BEST

Southern Thedas: is rook tho

Ghilan'nain: muahahaha i have so many drago---nooo you killed my dragons and i am BLEEDING LIKE A MORTAL PIECE OF MORTAL SCUM

Elgar'nan: my dragon used to be bigger :(

Ghilan'nain: your dragon's fine

Elgar'nan: Ghilly, make it bigger again

Ghilan'nain: can't, too sad. blood. :(

Southern Thedas: *throwing nugs at blight* hELP

Lavellan, with half of Southern Thedas crammed into skyhold: thanks for the castle, vhenan, we'd all literally be dead without it, again

Morrigan: erm, Inky? seems everyone's telling Rook Solas is just a big monster lying liar who lies and blaming him for everything

Lavellan: that's what people do, blame Solas. had a bad day? blame Solas. Mythal wants to sever the titans' dreams? Blame Solas. Rashvine nettle sting? Blame Solas. Bring the veil 5/7 or so of the way down themselves after releasing the blight? Blame Solas. Rook let the gods out? Blame Solas

Morrigan: Inky.

Lavellan: you want me to go pour out my heart to the person who imprisoned vhenan and let out Ghilan'nain, Mother of Tentacles, and Elgar'nan "My Dragon is Bigger than Your Dragon" First and Worst of the Evanuris, don't you

Morrigan: yee

Lavellan: FINE but you better spill every ounce of tea you've got on the stupid child before i go because i need to at least make rook squirm a LITTLE

Morrigan: i thought you'd never ask

Elgar'nan: you won't make my dragon bigger??? fine i'll move the moon instead

Northern Thedas: i'm sorry what

Anyone at sea anywhere on the planet: I'M SORRY WHAT

Ghilan'nain: *throws a temper tantrum and dies*

Elgar'nan: >:(

Solas: fuck this shit, i'm getting out of Fade Jail

Rook: :(

Minrathous: fuck fuck fuck FUCK fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK

Solas: hello, people who enslaved my people for millennia, i am here to save the day i guess

Minrathous, slapping blight tentacles out of their faces: ...honestly thank you

Solas: wait what

Rook: I ESCAPE FADE JAIL SOLAS YOU BASTARD LYING LIAR WHO LIES

Lavellan: i will not murder the stupid child, i will not murder the stupid child, i will not murder the stupid child

Solas: you know what, fair play, here's the dagger, there's elgar'nan, ima bite his dragon, you go have a great time. have fun storming the blight tentacle

Venatori, poster children for the Leopards Who Eat People's Faces Party: nooo the leopards keep eating our faces

Minrathous: wow who could have possibly predicted that

Everyone who has ever met a Venatori: yes, yes, very sad

Elgar'nan, eating every face in the magesterium and effectively cleansing Tevinter of the worst of its monsters in one fell swoop: ah, rook, you can't kill me, i have the biggest dragon ever to dragon

Dread Wolf: honestly he's kinda not wrong, this dragon is a bastard and i am like a fifth of its size and getting p tired, ngl

Rook's Blighted Companion: welp gonnae put this trauma to use for the greater good. go go gadget blight tentacles, release the Dread Pupper

Elgar'nan: *shocked pikachu*

Dread Wolf: *chomp*

Elgar'nan: *throws a temper tantrum and dies*

Solas: oh ffs finally

Rook: not so fast

Solas: oh ffs here we fucking go

Rook: i don't actually want to fight you

Solas: wait, what

Rook: i think this is all my fault but everyone keeps telling me i'm the hero and that's fucked up. and your vhenan, she's nice to me, no one really else is, i'm just everybody's apocalypse therapist, and i even kinda like you tbh, my whole team basically does fun stuff without me and doesn't even invite me to book club and emmrich's the only one who asks me about my feelings instead of just asking me to do stuff for them, and anyway, i'm going to trust the inquisitor here because i'm honestly starved for connection and she thinks you're worth saving so can we talk i don't wanna fight

Solas: what

Lavellan, out of sight, reliving the litany of "i will not murder this stupid child": oh haha awkward

Solas: look,,, i've been bound to the service of an ancient elvhen god for millennia and everything i do, whether i know it or not, is for her, so i can't do what you want and this sucks

Lavellan: even if i'm here, walking the din'an shiral with you?

Solas: ...vhenan

Lavellan: ;_;

Solas: ;_; ...I cannot

Morrigan: yo dread wolf, my mum's a piece of work and i have all her memories and everything she did to you was fuuuuuuuuucked up, anyway, over to her, honestly not pissed you killed that part of her btw, she reeeeally fucked you up, but rook somehow managed to talk her out of her essence, so that's impressive

Solas: what

Mythal: yeah i kinda tore you out of your home and twisted you from your purpose and made you do murder and worse for me for millennia and said i wanted your wisdom and then never ever listened to you ever and just dragged you through every atrocity i created and perpetuated

Solas: it hurts and i guess you're going to kill me now so here's the dagger ;_;

Mythal: it's still mostly your fault but i was there too i guess, anyway, i release you from my service, which i could have done at any point in the past several millennia but instead I tortured you endlessly, lol god of retribution, that's me. k bye

Solas: what the fucking fuck

Lavellan: right there with you, like literally forever, our love is a miracle and the only thing i can even cope with

Solas: yeah honestly fuck this shit, i'm out, i will put myself in fade jail

Lavellan: you are not going by yourself i stg take me with you i wanna go home

Solas: ...home is a literal prison now

Lavellan: sealed away from all this shit? from getting blamed for everything we do no matter how much we sacrifice? if it's you and me there together, i don't care if it's a grey box full of darkspawn

Solas: there's no darkspa--

Lavellan: ffs i said i want to go, you don't have to sell me on it. you're the only person in this world who Gets It. we go on together, forever.

Solas: *.* my wife

Lavellan: *.* my wolf

Northern Thedas: and rook saved the world from the dread wolf, who was a lying liar who lies

Southern Thedas: *busy being dead and blighted*

Lavellan: yeah, fuck this shit, we're out

You can now download this shitpost in beautifully formatted PDF, courtesy of @amburuthings. Thank u for your service *salutes*

You all have had me howling with the tags on reblogs, thank you, I am absolutely dying in deadline hell and needed that

[volkoss]

Fic: Dissonance (Ch. 1 - Upbringing)

A series of non-linear vignettes exploring the life of Meredith Stannard. Written for @14dayscirclemages.

CHAPTER 1: UPBRINGING | MEREDITH & AMELIA | WORDS: 700 | RATED: T Notes: takes place in the same continuity as the rest of Symbiotes, but prior knowledge is not required for this chapter. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 (AO3 LINK)

Sometimes, Meredith dreams about her childhood. Dreams about her sister, before she had become the Thing.

It had been a simpler time, before everything had gone to shit. A time before the Kirkwall docks where her father once worked had become shrouded in the shadow of the Gallows, even though logic dictated the ancient Tevinter fortress had stood for centuries, and would stand for ages more.

No. In the old dreams, Meredith can only remember the sun. The perfect summer days. The deceptively still surface of the Waking Sea reflecting the cloudless blue skies above their heads. Hers, and Amelia’s. Bare legs dangling into the water to keep cool in the heat. Amelia, jerking into Meredith’s side swearing an eel had slithered past. Meredith, clutching at her big sister’s side to keep her steady. 

It was only seaweed. Only ever seaweed.

On a good day, they’d have coppers enough to split a whole fish between them for lunch, a big juicy fat one at that. They’d cook it on a stick over one of the communal firepits, Amelia glancing around nervously worried the neighbourhood boys would pick a fight with them again and Meredith focused on her task, confident in the knowledge they wouldn’t.

Meredith had known, once upon a time, that their father had been disappointed their mother had borne him a second daughter. But it didn’t matter so much these days, not now she’d proven to him she could do everything a boy could, could do it even better.

She still remembers the first time she’d come home bloodied and bedraggled after breaking a bully’s nose for making fun of her sister. She’d expected to get a hiding but Dad had only laughed, ruffling her matted hair.

Maker’s breath, he’d said, I’ve created a monster. And yet upon noticing her swollen thumb, he’d still taught her how to throw a proper punch. For next time. It had been in that moment Meredith had been convinced of her purpose in life, her reason for being: she had been brought into this world to protect her sister, and she would never ever give up, so long as she lived.

And it had all been going so swimmingly, until Amelia’s magic had manifested. Until the already shy and reticent Amelia withdrew so deep inside her shell she had turned herself inside out instead—

—her dreaming mind refuses to dwell on what had happened after, tonight. Tonight, it still has hope. A false belief there is a chance. Something, anything, that she can do to change what actually happened.

She is chasing her sister through the winding streets of Lowtown, bare feet kicking up clouds of dust as she runs. Amelia is out of sight, but only just. Like Meredith will turn the corner and see her standing there, close enough to jab a finger in the dimple of her smile.

Meredith is not sure any of this ever actually happened.

However, what she is certain of is this: that Amelia has always been just out of her grasp. That the templars always reached her sister first. That every day, she wakes up into a nightmare.

She is sticking to her nightclothes, her sheets, perspiration rolling off her in waves. It’s summer in Kirkwall, but she is no longer eight years old, but forty-two. It’s early still, sun yet to break the sky, but she can make out the shape of the objects in her bedchamber in the red glow of her greatsword, never too far from hand.

Do you still believe you can change things? Orsino had once asked her many moons ago, and back then, she had demurred. Had told him she didn’t know. But now, as she pushes herself upright and hums the red lyrium’s haunting song under her breath, she feels it in her bones.

Certainty.

As good a name for a sword as any.

The Thing watches her out of the corner of her eye. You promised, it says. Once upon a time, Meredith had been adamant that the Thing was not her sister. These days, she sees little utility in such arbitrarily drawn lines. 

Yes, she whispers into the empty room. I did.

[jukkaricity]

Companion banter with Alectris - Lace Harding edition

Alectris and Harding get along like a house on fire, despite their backgrounds and upbringing being as different as they could get.

Alectris: Did I get it right? You worked for the Inquisition? 

Harding: Yes! I’ve done a lot of scouting for them, seen most of Southern Thedas. 

A: You have to tell me all about it. 

*depending on Inquisitor’s race*

(qunari) A: Is it true that the Inquisitor was a Qunari spy? 

(elf) A: I heard that the Inquisitor was Dalish and could shape shift!

(human) A: Someone said that the Inquisitor was actually a Tevene Dreamer? 

(dwarf) A: The Ambassadoria said that the Inquisitor came from a forgotten Thaig!

H: What!? No!

***

Harding: You’re with the Shadow Dragons, right? Like Neve? 

Alectris: Somewhat, yes.  Have you met Lorelei, the front? My shop does something similar. 

H: Your shop? 

A: My family has owned the place for a few generations. Don’t get hung up on that. 

***

Alectris: Lace? Is it true that you only have surface dwarves in Ferelden? 

Harding: What do you mean? If a dwarf sees the sky it makes them lose their caste, so they come up and live on the surface. How else could it be in Ferelden? 

A: Well, the dwarven embassy is carved deep into the ground beneath Minrathous, some of the emissaries never leave the deepest chambers. 

H: You’re kidding? I thought that Tevinter only respects humans? 

A: I guess the desperate need of lyrium puts things into perspective. 

***

Harding: Do you ever get tangled up between your sword and the magic? 

Alectris: I’m sorry? 

H: I mean, do you sometimes mix your moves up? Throw your sword instead of a fireball? 

A: *laughs* Doesn’t really happen anymore. But you should have seen me flailing when I started. 

A: You’re dealing with this new magic thing way better than I did. 

***

Harding: Have I heard some lute from the armory? 

Alectris: I… No, surely not. Maybe someone playing in the kitchen? 

H: I might have believed you if I wasn’t there at the time. 

H: Sounded really good too! 

***

Alectris: So… is It true that magister Dorian Pavus was part of the Inquisiton? 

Harding: Yes! He was part of Inquisitor's inner circle! Traveled with the team nearly everywhere!

A: *laughs* I cannot believe this. Dorian Pavus, his fancy clothes and even fancier mustache in the Ferelden wilderness. 

A: What would I pay to have seen it. 

***

Harding: Alectris! When did you learn inquisition songs? 

A: Some of them I knew before, just had no idea where they came from. 

A: A few others I had to ask around for. 

H: That’s amazing! Oh, we could have a singing evening instead of the book club!

H: Do you have a favourite song?

A: Oh, yes. I like that song about a certain Inquisition scout. 

H: What? No!

***

A: Scout Lace Harding…

H: Yes? 

A: Swift and cunning…

H: Stop it! It’s embarrassing! A: Her arrows cut you down to size H: If you don’t stop I might as well! 

***

H: Do you know how to dance? 

A: Yes. And whatever your next question is, no. 

H: I didn’t even say anything!

A: I know. But no, I’d give my leg to a dracolisk before I agree to anything. 

[mojo-bro-tho]

Paean of Old and Present Days... Ch.3

Note: Like I said, expect another post almost immediately. I will slow down on the posting for chapters starting now because I now feel comfortable with the word count balance. That first chapter was something.

Here is a link to Ch. 1 (AO3 specific, see my post for Ch. 2 if you'd like an explanation for that.) And this will be the link to the actual post for Ch. 2. And finally, link to Ch. 3 with AO3 if you refer. I'll have a better set up for the link next time, promise!

Edit to include word count: 3,793 

Kindness At A Price

Meeting Neve was about as uneventful as it could have gone. The mage made very little announcement of her arrival, simply appearing to the quiet astonishment of everyone who already knew her. Though, Emmrich hardly found that shocking based on what Bellara and Rook had told him. He also near instantly understood where Lenore’s concerns were coming from. He was relieved to see that again, her compassion was palpable. The Warden’s eyes muddled contritely seeing the woman, and she took no offense at the short response that was given in regards to it. Her gaze would sometimes linger towards her Tevinter companion, and he could see her holding back her expression to not appear too pitying. But still, there was a deep hurt lingering beneath it, one he was astounded that no one else seemed to pick up on. 

Upon getting the chance to speak with Neve separately, Emmrich did not believe she was intentionally keeping Lenore at arms length for malicious reasons. She was cordial, nice even, something he hadn’t expected from a mage from Tevinter. He was happy to at least be proven wrong on that count. Shamefully, he worried that perhaps Lenore’s being Elven may have something to do with their distant relationship. But to his relief, Neve didn’t seem to have anything bad to say about their leader. Rather she just had very little to say in general. Perhaps Bellara was right, and whatever was said was not meant on a personal level. That was his hope. 

Lenore herself went back to work with little fanfare. He swore if he turned around for even 5 seconds he might catch her running off to handle yet another miniscule issue. He’d only been at the Lighthouse for a few days but he was already realizing just how much of a workload Rook had taken on. Was she always this way, or was this the stress of the circumstances? Neither answer seemed better. 

Emmrich had planned to ask her to accompany him to the Necropolis for some business Myrna had brought to his attention, but now he was second guessing himself. Bellara had made it clear during their tour that Lenore was ‘different’ and he was more than starting to see what she meant. The woman never truly seemed to sit still. Even while on the ferry in the Crossroads, she busied her hands or her feet with any number of little activities. Cleaning her sword, polishing her shield, counting potions, tapping her heel into the wood as if she were practicing footing for drills. How her bones didn’t ache from the constant strain was beyond him. 

Every once in a while, he would also catch her doing the most peculiar thing. Mouthing words to herself. Reciting something in her head while the lips moved silently. Committing the shape of phrases to memory. This was especially prevalent when she read missives, or re-read missives, or re-re-read missives. Some part of him wished to lean in closer whenever she did this, to try and catch a whisper in the inevitable exhale or the air between it. But of course, he would stop himself. Not wanting to invade her personal space, or not wanting to be obscene at the very least.

Strangely enough, it was Neve herself who, quite bluntly, convinced him to ask for Lenore’s assistance against his better judgement. He was aware she was a detective, Bellara had shown him several papers to prepare for her return, but her observations were almost frighteningly accurate. That and her timing was far too precise. 

“Wait for her to come to you.” She told him. 

“I beg your pardon?” He asked, turning to find the recently introduced Neve a mere few feet behind him. 

He had been waiting in the library, taking a quick glance at the titles that graced the shelves. Well, perhaps longer than a glance. Manfred had decided to busy himself with the remnants of the boxes in his new room so he chanced a moment to explore close by. Neve herself hadn’t exactly snuck up on him either, he was semi aware of her presence and had heard her walk up to him. But he was rather absorbed by everything he was seeing. 

“You keep rereading the same line of books on the shelf and then watch Rook pass by before moving on to the next one. She makes her rounds, she’ll come find you to see what you want to ask.” She responded, placing a hand on her hip

“Ah.” He truly overestimated his own subtlety. “Well, there lies the problem. I am unsure if I should. She appears to be rather… preoccupied.” 

“You should.” Neve said plainly. 

“I’ve only just arrived, I don’t want to kick up a fuss for the poor girl.” Emmrich shook his head dismissively. 

“No, you seriously should. Trust me. Rook is the type where unless she's bed ridden, she won’t stop. If not you, she’ll just throw herself into another project. One that might actually get her hurt if she doesn’t focus up. You wouldn’t be adding so much as you would be pivoting her attention. Honestly, whatever you were needing her for, I’m sure it would be a nice break from what she’d been doing.” 

“What exactly has she been doing?” 

“Fighting dragons, worrying herself over Minrathous to the point where she made sure more than enough Wardens came by to try and stop the Blight from spreading, taking the time to organize the relief aid.” Neve sighed. “It’s almost insulting that she tried to hide it too. Who else could have told Weisshaupt fast enough without using the Crossroads? Child’s play, really.” 

Neve strutted towards the bookshelf, plucking a thin novel from its hold. Her thumb casually peeled back the cover as she absentmindedly looked through the pages. Suddenly, the door into the library opened. Emmrich looked over his shoulder to once again find Lenore rushing through. Their eyes locked and she smiled warmly his way. 

“Hello, Professor. Is our library to your liking?” She asked, slowing her pace into a stop, resting one foot atop the bottom of the staircase. 

“Oh, it is something to behold, I must say! There are some truly invaluable titles here.” Emmrich answered happily. 

Even while in the Lighthouse, Lenore dressed for combat. She wore a slender breastplate and reinforced leather padding on her arms and legs. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t think he’d seen her in anything but armor so far. Her entire body was covered until the middle of the neck, always prepared for some unforeseen darkspawn teeth, he imagined. Even her hands remained obscured, not only under gloves but bound by sleeves and thread. 

“I’m glad to hear it! I haven’t gotten the chance to look through much of it myself so hopefully you can tell me if there’s anything worthwhile. Is the progress with the room going well?” She asked.

“Indeed it has, and I shall.” As Emmrich responded, Lenore began making her way up the stairs. 

“That’s good to know. I have to ask our dragon expert a few questions but if you’ve available I can swing by to check in! It shouldn’t be too long. Good book, Neve?”

“Riveting.” She retorted. 

“Still glad to have you back!” Lenore called out once reaching the top of the stairs and soon disappearing down the hall belonging to Taash. Once she heard the door close, Neve pulled her focus back to Emmrich. 

“She’s been following me around ever since I got back, trying to keep an eye on me. Seriously, get her out of here for a little bit. I think it’ll help us both. She means well, but she needs to take a step away for both our sakes. I’ll owe you a favor, Emmrich.” Neve closed the book and slipped it back into place. 

Just as promptly as she had entered a conversation with him, she left out the library door. Emmrich was a little taken aback by the whole interaction. Neve certainly left an impression. His gaze trailed away from one door to the knowing distance of another. If she was as observant as she seemed, he’d have to take her word on what she said about Lenore. As good as it was to have a friend close by who cared, it could also be suffocating. Neve seemed to be trying to keep her distance for the time being to avoid that. Perhaps she was right and Lenore did need a change in scenery while still keeping her mind busy. 

Emmrich returned to his room after that. He complimented Manfred on a job well done, along with a speedy set up. Before too long, he’d hear a knock at his door as he stood close to the cold fireplace. He expected to find Lenore but instead came the voice of Bellara. 

“Professor Volkarin? It’s Bellara!” Her voice muddled behind the door. 

“Do come in, we’re just about finished for the day.” Emmrich invited. 

He would take the time to handle all the more delicate unpacking once Manfred had found something else to do. Wisps never sat still either. That may be another reason why his assistant seemed to take so quickly to their leader. He decided he would make a note of that later. Bellara sneaked her head through the doorway before shuffling inside in a short strided sprint. 

“Sorry, I actually expected Rook to be in here! But I was curious to see how well unpacking was going.” She admitted sheepishly.

“Why would Rook be in here?” Emmrich asked. 

“Well, she made it seem like she would be? She said she’s been dying to get a chance to hear more about what you do! I didn’t know she was so interested in necromancy, since she isn’t a mage, but she seemed to be looking forward to talking to you.” 

Emmrich himself wasn’t sure why that would interest her either. He hadn’t been outside of Nevarra too many times, and it was already surprising to see Lenore so unperturbed by his magic, but to be excited to discuss it? That was borderline unheard of for someone not as connected to the Fade. Sure the others had been polite enough to him, but aside from Bellara and Lenore, Emmrich had noticed a few… misunderstandings. Mostly involving Manfred’s purpose. It was comforting to think that someone else besides his previous correspondent didn’t find him unnerving. Though he supposed he ought not be too dumbfounded, he was after all equally as charmed by the prospect of learning more about being a Warden. Perhaps they shared an unbridled inquisitiveness for things beyond their inherent comprehension.

Bellara meandered, hands clasped behind her back while swaying towards his bookshelf. She looked over several of the titles and Emmrich followed along to see what caught her eyes. Eventually, they settled on a well loved copy of one of his many research materials.

“A third addition of The Unnamable Element? I didn’t even know it had additions!” She exclaimed.

“Oh, it is much improved with the index! Please borrow it, if you like.” Emmrich offered. Truly, it was worth the read. The third addition was his favorite. 

“I’d love to- oh, Rook!” The sound of the door closing and grounded footfall entered the room alongside Lenore. “You probably wanted to say hi. Thanks, Professor!” Bellara said, quickly taking her leave. He would drop the book off to her as soon as he got the chance. 

“You look moved in.” Lenore addressed him, placing both hands on her hips with a pleased grin. 

“Just a few essentials. Manfred was a great help with the boxes.” Upon hearing his name, Manfred hissed happily. “What a fascinating place this Lighthouse is! What do you make of it?”

“I think I like it better with a necromancer in the place.” Lenore replied. Her expression remained pleasant, without force. The earnestness once again astounded him, or rather her forwardness in this case. If she was putting on a front, it was a damn good one. Emmrich may not have always been the best at picking up when people were being deceptive, but based on what he had seen of her so far, he could not imagine that was the explanation. Still, he doubted.

“Do you?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Especially one with experience.” There was a playful glint in her eyes coupled with the sweet words. A gloved hand raised, pushing away the loose strands of her hair that were freed from the style she kept it up in. Do all Wardens keep their hair up if not cut short? He imagined they’d have to. But the light from above sank so gloomily onto her head, making the white shade brighter and the shadows almost solid, that the question fizzled away. 

“I must be sure to live up to expectations.”

“Did you get the tour yet?” She glanced about the room, conspiratorially. “And I mean, the full tour.”

“Oh, I’ve been exploring, but-” Again, he hesitated. His earlier worry of burdening her returned to him. But he managed to bit back that worry quick enough to continue. “I noticed a few of the others taken aback by Manfred. And I overheard remarks about my skulls. My necromancy won’t cause any undue worry, will it?”

Truly, the question was more for her than anyone else. She had been nothing but charitable in her demeanor towards him. Emmrich was used to people keeping him at a distance, ready to be examined. He would hate, perish the thought, to cause any turmoil amongst the network she had built. Especially now that someone had returned from a rather intense bout of time away. And again, her lips upturned, tickled at the idea of his worry which to her must have seemed somewhat unwarranted. 

“We’re still getting used to one another.”

“True. And yet-”

“Give it time, we’ll settle in.”

Whatever profound sentiment Lenore had planned to give was thoroughly interrupted by an impatient hiss from Emmrich’s assistant. On his tray was a light book that Emmrich had previously been searching for. Manfred finding it now must mean that the organization he had previously cared for had gone awry at some point. That would require a quick correction. 

“Please excuse me. Manfred and I should finish our inventory. Thank you for stopping by.”

Lenore’s eyes softened at their bottom corners. Large, doe-eyed, and lively while unprecedentedly wisened for someone her age. Though she was assuring him, there was a strange undertone of sympathy and expectation. As she began to walk away, making slow steps backwards before turning towards his door, Emmrich surprised even himself. 

“Actually, Rook. I do have a couple of questions for you. If you don’t mind.” 

Her face was slightly obscured by the fall of her white hair while looking over her shoulder towards him. But he could make out the very edge of her lips quirk back up into a grin. Unfortunately, he found himself quite fixated on it for more than a reasonable moment. 

“Yes, Professor?” She asked, a slight hum hidden beneath her voice. 

“Just Emmrich is fine, that goes for both you and Bellara.” He began. “Rook, would you be interested in visiting the Memorial Gardens?” 

“What are you up to?” Lenore questioned. He was relieved to see that the idea wasn’t unpleasant to her despite what her first experience was like. 

“I must tend to some rites in the Necropolis.” His hands pressed flat against each other, a habit he formed when attempting to not move so animatedly. “It should be peaceful, and quite undisturbed. You’d be most welcome company.” 

“Sounds nice. I wouldn’t mind joining you at all. I’d actually like to see more of what the Necropolis is like without Venatori trudging through the place. Was that all you wanted to ask me?” 

The Watcher found it difficult to tell if her tone on the last question was more tongue-in-cheek or slightly disappointed. The way her accent rolled the word ‘all’ gave a hint of something more expectant. Was she being… coy? Her calves flexed, briefly raising her onto her toes, as though she was leaning into him despite the fair distance between them. 

It was all rather peculiar. How unabashed she would be one second and yet near coquettish the next. Perhaps he was imagining it. She had been almost too eager to assist him previously while in the Necropolis. Covetous over the prospect of seeking fulfillment, purpose, to fix something broken. Part of him worried that asking her for her help again might give her a false impression of his intentions being there. So, instead of asking for a willing hand to seek out the wisps Myrrna had written to him about, he offered a reprieve instead. 

At the same time, wondered how different his youth would have been had he listened to that more voracious side of himself the way she did. He was undeniably fascinated with her. Not just her plethora of stories she had to have, but her herself. Which led him to the question Bellara had presented to him earlier. And now, suddenly feeling rather ravenous in his own curiosity, he indeed posed another inquiry for the young woman.

“Are you by chance familiar at all with necromancy? You seem to have an… unexpected, but very appreciated, acceptance of it.” 

Granted, it wasn’t as if he had shown her much of what necromancy had to offer, besides simple reanimations. But still, he recalled her beguiling expression upon their first meeting. How her eyes glowed with an enraptured intrigue over the sight of him. He imagined that was a privilege not many Nevarrans received from foreigners. In retrospect, he thought it sad that he anticipated more ridicule or malice from his peers on this venture. Lenore’s expression turned pensive. Her eyes trailed away from him and up towards the tall ceiling. 

“I’m not familiar with it, no. Actually you might be the only necromancer I’ve ever met. Unless Myrna and Vorgoth are also necromancers?” Her eyebrows came together as she searched her mind for something. Upon finding nothing, she looked back to Emmrich with another simple smile that made his body feel weighed down. 

“They are but… are you certain? I’ve never met someone outside of Nevarra so amenable to it without question.” He couldn’t help but be skeptical. A flash of understanding danced inside her eye sockets. 

“Oh, that. I’m an Elf, and a Warden too. If every person in the world believed the ignorant comments made about my people, we’d be in even more trouble than we already are. I was taught to see things for how they are, not how others talk about them. I’ve met Myrna, Vorgoth, and now you. You don’t seem bad to me, so why should I treat you like you are?”

It was interesting that she brought up both her heritage and her career in her surmation. He was aware that the Elven people were treated less than fairly, to different degrees and in different ways of horror depending on where you fell on the map. It wasn’t unheard of in Nevarra either, sadly. But were Wardens also misunderstood? Was it comparable? 

“Is it truly that simple? Plenty of people still get uncomfortable with things they don’t understand, even if well intended.” He pointed out. 

“I guess that’s true. I don’t know, maybe you just made a really good first impression of what a necromancer could be like? Again, that flaming skull thing you did was really something!” She chuckled. 

“That’s… very kind of you to say.” He replied. 

She truly was something unexpected. He felt like he just kept repeating that to himself every time the two spoke but he was baffled by it. To have another person admit ignorance to a topic while also not showing even a hint of unease or distrust. He had many fears, many worries, even worse in his younger years regarding how others saw him. If he had a friend like her back then, how many more expeditions would he have taken off on? How many more nights away from home would he have spent? 

“Trust me, Emmrich, I’m not speaking out of kindness. I’m just very honest, remember?” Lenore corrected. “We can go check out things happening in the Necropolis soon. Can I come get you when I’m ready?” She asked, cocking her head to the side. 

“That would be perfect.” 

With that, Lenore fluttered one last beaming in the professor’s direction. She looked much more pleased than she had before. Emmrich could see the strain in her cheeks to try and keep up a happy face while worrying over Neve. It felt satisfying, to see her relax enough to grin without pretext. Without a need to uphold an appearance. 

“I look forward to spending more time together, Professor.” A cheeky response given how he just corrected her over calling him that. A dense sense of deja vu fell over him as she turned to leave once again. She had said something similar the last time they spoke alone. Looking forward to speaking with him again, to spend time with him.

It wasn’t until she reached the door that Emmrich noticed just how burdensome his lungs had become near the end of that conversation. He blinked several times, trying in some confused attempt at banishing whatever had fixated him in that moment. Perhaps he was more worried about her than what he had originally thought. Or maybe it had something to do with the way she spoke. 

Saying she wasn’t speaking from kindness seemed unbelievable since her voice fell like honey. If not sweet words, then what else? He cursed himself for even lingering on it, he knew better than that. Though, it seemed what Neve had said was correct. Lenore was more than willing to jump into any project, no matter her experience in the topic. It was an admirable trait, certainly. After all, how many mortals had enough practice in god slaying to warrant a confidence in it? Her sort of people were needed in times like this. 

But that also came with drawbacks. Not only did she seem a perfectionist to him, but also a hypocritical one, as most perfectionists tended to be. Sure, she may be willing to deviate from the standard, but that could only come at the price of her own peace of mind. He felt vindicated for wanting to keep an eye on her, and he hoped he could help guide her towards some better habits if she’d accept them. Some meditative practices might do her well if she’d accept his offer to craft a ward. Emmrich decided he’d make one for her just in case.

[mirandaputsherbestbuttforward]

Anyway, I finished Dragon Age: The Veilguard just over 85 hours for the whole thing (definitely missed some puzzles and a bit of loot here and there), but here are a collection of my thoughts before going to bed.

Spoilers below!

Genuinely, I think it was a solid game. The writing and themes throughout are really potent. I think the dialogue in some places was a little 80s cheesy or a BIT out of place in the DA setting but I definitely laughed at a lot of it.

I think the companions were great, though I found myself not really caring for Lucanis (and I'm not torn up that I accidentally got him killed in the endgame).

Neve, on the other hand, was a sniper shot directly at my forehead; she is carrying out the legacy of the Emotionally Distant Usuallly Hetero BioWare Brunette™ that I have always fallen for, but thankfully not straight this time (bless).

I think the environments were amazing and had so much depth even if the maps were more 'linear' in terms of areas to explore but I loved not having fetch quests. I loved being able to use companion abilities to unlock more parts of the map as we went along.

I do think there was a lot of content - which is good - but it did feel like a bit of a slow go to start.

I felt that the romance wasn't necssarily lacking in terms of BioWare's standard style of romances with casual flirting -> serious flirting -> kiss scene -> romance scene just prior to endgame, BUT because there was so much to do in Act 2, it felt like I wasn't getting anywhere fast and so spacing it out that way felt like there could've been a few more little things in between (e.g. kiss animations like BG3, or something) to hold us over.

In terms of story, I think for the most part it really fit into the series well enough; I don't think the lack of worldstate mattered too much in order to tell the story they wanted to tell with Solas. A few mentioned and call backs are all we would've gotten and I'm okay with that (e.g. like who you picked for Divine or who is ruling Fereldan, etc).

I like that we got to explore more Dwarf lore again, I think this fandom needs to be more into dwarves because holy shit.... the whole reason they can't dream???????? insane.

Also in terms of gameplay, the combat was fun and refreshing, and very mass effect-y and I loved it. I was a warrior and just had fun smashing the shit out of everything. I do wish we had more loot / options to work with (lowkey missed the crafting system in DAI to make our own stuff) but I get why they did it like that.

I loved Rook, and I know that you can't be a super aggressive asshole but tbh this doesn't call for it. They were brought in as someone who could help the team and work together.

As someone on tiktok said, they are friends with fully developed prefrontal cortexes and act like it; DA2 companions are not found family, they are only friends with Hawke and only tolerate each other because of that mutual friendship. Inquisitor is like the manager of a bunch of coworkers.

ANYWAY, I think Rook was a fine protag, and I LOVED the CC aside from a few things like why do some of the more detailed complexions get a 5 o clock shadow embedded into it? No age slider??? no grey hair slider???

Fat slider good but should've had more. Also the boob/ass slider lacking like I get it that it helps keep armours intact but they should've let the sliders go more for better shapes.

All in all, I'm giving it a solid 8.5/10, and well worth the 10 year wait.

I just hope that they get to make a DA5 with that hint they dropped on us in the post-credit scene. I was really hoping for DA Absolution to have a tie in because what the fuck has Meredith Stannard been doing beefing w tevinter to get a circlet to bring someone back from the dead, and what plot point is that gonna be????? but anyway I guess I can hope for a season 2 of DA Absolution next

[alystrin03]

The Firefly Contract! Parts 1 and 2 posted

FINALLY!

Some time ago, @missingnozw and I started working on a collaborative fic "The Firefly contract".

Viago de Riva has accepted a contract from Minrathous: a mage has murdered several Magisters and must be taken care of. Along with Alecto, they head to Tevinter, but they do not expect the Viper himself to get involved in the matter.

We wrote it on a way anyone of them could be Rook (in fact, Alecto will provoke the Antaam situation in a couple of weeks). Also, the idea is posting the chapters in pairs, so you get both the POV of the Crows and the Shadow Dragons.

Small fragment after the cut!

Part #1: Alecto

“You're looking in the wrong place,” said a male voice behind her back. Viago stood next to her, folding his arms “And if you thought I wasn't going to notice you were out, you're sorely mistaken.”

“Where am I supposed to look?” Alecto ignored the last comment. Of course, she didn't think he'd notice, although, to tell the truth, he was the lightest sleeper she'd ever seen. Being a neurotic obsessed with his own murder had to be tiresome. Viago pointed skyward, practically above them. The young woman looked up and opened her eyes wide, unable to believe her eyes. "Fuck that,” she muttered.

The Archon's palace towered over the ship, making it look like a toy by comparison. It was a massive structure, circular in shape, floating in the air on the basis of incantations whose complexity was beyond the understanding of most mortals. Possibly blood magic, Alecto thought, but who knew. She regretted not being able to visit it, though, on the other hand, it was almost better that way. She had no particular fondness for Tevinter in general and its mages in particular, let alone the ruling class. She fantasized about being able to throw them all into the bay from the top of the palace and feed them to the fish, now that would be a sight to behold. Slavery may have been forbidden in Minrathous, but anyone with any sense knew that was a farce.

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

Part #2: Ashur

“This is serious, Viper! One of the Crows that arrived is a Talon!”

That last word made Ashur whip around. A Talon, he thought, dread creeping in. Since when did Talons get directly involved in fieldwork? Only when the target was extremely difficult. And in those cases, he was more used to hearing about the Demon of Vyrantium’s presence in Tevinter lands. His mind raced, memories of past encounters with the assassins resurfacing like unwelcomed ghosts. The Crows were dangerous enough, but a Talon? That was something else entirely.

Whatever the reason, having a Talon in his city was… unusual, to say the least. It was worth looking into.

[masterskywalkers]

Vincent Laidir (Rook)

44. He/him.

A sarcastically charming asshole with a heart of gold. He gets himself into trouble much too easily, yet manages to weasle his way out of it ... at least seventy percent of the time.

Mage - evoker class.

Has a large tattoo of a snake curled around a collection of diamond-like shapes on his left arm -- which he had done after he officially joined the Lords of Fortune. It's meant as a rememberance of his past slavery, and how he was able to come away from it able to rebuild a new, better life for himself doing something he loved.

Romanced Emmrich.

Grew up in a Dalish encampment just outside of Llomerryn, Rivain. He didn't really 'follow' traditional Dalish ways, and decided to leave the camp of his own will at the age of fifteen.

At the age of seventeen he was caught by Tevinter slavers, and for the next eight years was forced to work as a galley slave. He eventually escaped, thanks to the Lords of Fortune.

Treasure hunter and occassional monster hunter - the monsters are somtimes an addition to a hired job. Officially joined the Lords of Fortune when he was twenty five after joining them a crew on a hunt.

On the first expedtion where he met and worked with Varric - also the one that had him killing a corrupt Rivani noble and forcing him to step away from the Lords of Fortune for a time until other Rivani nobles calmed down - Vincent had been captured whilst trying to run away with the artifact the noble wanted to hand over to the Venatori. He was chained and thrown into the ocean, left to drown. Varric, Harding and the rest of the team they were with at the time managed to find and save him, but ever since Vincent has had a fear of deep water.

Loves cats. If he could, he'd stop to pet every one he sees.

[blarrghe]

13 from the love confessions prompts for T and Dorian? 💖

Hmmmmmmmmm hi Viper thank u for the prompt I tried to angst it up just for you 💖

--

11. "You have to come back to me. Because I cannot do this without you.”

Dorian was not an overtly sentimental person. He was a passionate person, from the field to the bedroom, all fireballs and fiery evenings. He espoused verbose compliments, sweet but sarcastic witticisms. Occasionally a serious moment passed, but they tended to pass quickly and be followed by a drink. 

Taren was sentimental in a way that sometimes seemed to discomfort him, so he'd tried to tone some of that down. Things were still new, and if Dorian was too fiery then Taren's was a heart that tended to burn too fast. That wasn't what he wanted this to be, hot but over in a flash. Something was different, in this, and even if Dorian didn't say it, he knew he felt it too. 

It was foolish, to ask for more, to expect it, to want it. 

It was foolish, for a Dalish elf to find himself in anything more than bed with a would-be Magister. 

It was foolish, for a man from Tevinter to seek anything more than pleasure, to show anything more than physical interest. 

Let's be foolish, Taren had said. 

And so they were. Foolish like laughing over brandy up in the library, foolish like sharing tents where any scout could report it, foolish like sharing kisses in the courtyard gardens in view of Orlesian gossipers. Foolish like a fluttering heart and a giddy smile and affectionate petnames and like many more words that went unspoken, but felt. 

Dorian came on as many missions as Taren left on, now. The grumpy Tevinter who detested any temperature lower than that of a warm bath had been the first to volunteer to come out here, to camp in tents in the frozen and red lyrium stricken Emprise du Lion, where they were now, foolishly, facing down a dragon. 

Fire was good against ice. Dorian wasted no time. His walls of fire blocked shards of glassy stone, his fireballs blasted interruptions against gusts of icy breath. Taren supported his team; barriers, quick casts to heal and strengthen and deflect. His magic could be pointed and offensive in a one-to-one, but against a dragon he was better use as a strategist. He directed shouts to Bull, who gladly charged, and to Varric, who sprang lightly from one crumbling side of the old monument to the other, and to Dorian, who responded "I could do this all day!" and seemed ready to. Endless fireballs and endless foolish confidence.

But then one of those ice-beams hit. Taren shouted, flung out his barrier a second too late, there was a flash of ice and fire colliding with a crash, and then Dorian dropped from his sight. 

The dragon was dead on the ground moments later, but next to it was Dorian. 

Taren ran to his side, his heart beating frantically, his breaths short, his mana all but entirely drained. He tore into a lyrium potion, spitting away its cap and downing its contents while his hands hovered over Dorian's cold, frozen chest. Dorian's cheeks were pale, the faintest thread of breath and lingering magic trailed from his lips, leaving him for the void. 

Taren tore into the veil too, reaching across with too much panicked force for the spirits that always seemed to dance close to Dorian. The ice melted under his hands, but Dorian's chest did not rise. 

"Come on," Taren muttered in graceless frustration, his knuckles tight, his breath uneven. He forced himself through an inhale, an exhale, and tried with little success to get his own heart to slow. "Come on, come on, Dorian —" 

Spirit healing was a patient art. The help from beyond the veil needed to be coaxed, gently guided, whispered to. Demands and force were as likely to be met with demons as with nothing, and either way meant death. Taren squinted his eyes shut and willed away the dark and smokey shapes intruding on his thoughts.

"Please," he whispered. Too long. This was taking too long. 

A whisper of something soft and gentle twirled under his hands, blue light and warming energy, prodding at Dorian's motionless lungs and cooling blood. 

"Come back," he demanded, then begged, "come back, come back to me, vhenan, please." 

That spark met Dorian's, kissing the dim flame that still burned within him and working to build its heat. Taren lowered his hands until they were pressed into the leather over Dorian's chest, and beyond him his magic searched out for lungs of air and the slow pump of a heart. He could feel it pulsing, struggling against a weight of heavy cold. He pushed at his spirit some more, dangerously close to too hard. He bent his head in and tried not to listen to the panic of hopeless words as they passed through his mind, to the regret of all the things he'd yet to say. 

"Come back to me. I can't —" the spirit under his fingers faltered. With a grimace and a push of force, Taren gripped it back under his control. "You have to come back. I cannot do this without you." Heat spread from his fingertips, fire burned dim through Dorian’s chest. His cheeks began to colour again, his breaths to rasp out ragged. 

Dorian coughed, and Taren caught his head to his own chest as he jolted upright again.

“Alright, alright, I hear you. I’m here.” Dorian’s voice was hoarse and quiet and sank into Taren’s chest with warm relief. 

The whisping spark of his spirit aid flitted away into the void, and Taren wrapped Dorian in his arms tight, radiating more warmth with the last of the mana afforded him by that potion. He dug at his belt and pressed a healing tonic quickly to Dorian’s lips before he could speak again. 

[edda-grenade]

Nature.

Adaar and her parents have a very serious debate about why Solas is… like that.

#feral verse, 1100 words. on AO3.

Adaar wasn’t sure what exactly Solas was—only that he definitely wasn’t an elf. Not fully, at least.

He sounded strange. Like an elf raised among the Dalish, but… off. Maybe he was originally from a far-off clan where they spoke with the lilt and affect he had, but she had never encountered it.

But then again: he didn’t have vallaslin, despite being more than old enough to wear them.

It could be that he had refused them for some reason, although she couldn’t imagine why. All the young Dalish she had known before and after they had received their vallaslin had seemed so happy and proud to bear them, even when their faces were still raw and sensitive from the markings.

Or he had never been offered vallaslin in the first place. That at least would explain why he didn’t appear to be on speaking terms with any Dalish. Adaar still cringed when she remembered the fight he’d gotten into with Lavellan’s First. And Keeper, and Hahren. At least they hadn’t decided to cut trade ties with her family’s settlement.

He wasn’t much better with city elves, the few times she’d managed to convince him to accompany her into the villages or, on one occasion, the town to the north. She had promised Iolain to fetch him the next time a Dalish clan made camp near their land again so he might join them, and Solas had watched the entire exchange like a man watching an execution. They can’t give him what he’s looking for, he had told her afterwards. All they do is play at being elves, like shadows of the real thing.

And what are you? she had asked, angry and baffled. Solas had given her a look of such abject sorrow it had stopped her right in her tracks.

A shadow of what I was.

So he acted like no elf on earth could be his people. And yet, sometimes, he said things like: My people used to, this place was sacred to my people, back when my people were—

He always caught himself rather quickly, and either ignored or avoided any follow-up questions she might pose. Which was infuriating, but also, horribly understandable…

Because Adaar had the feeling his people weren’t considered people by anyone else. The way he talked about spirits and demons, with a fond melancholy he usually reserved for tales of the ancient Arlathan…

“I don’t know,” said Reth, expression skeptical. “He definitely looks like an elf. And he’s a mage, who apparently didn’t learn in a Circle, or from a Keeper, or the Qun, or in Tevinter. I’m more curious who taught him magic than anything else.”

“That’s my point!” said Adaar. “What if he never learned magic because he didn’t have to?”

“I think he was a slave,” Ari said quietly. “From Tevinter. Probably manifested magic late, and then that presented an opportunity for escape.”

“He’s haunted enough for it,” agreed Reth. “It’s like looking into a mirror, sometimes. Terrible.” He shook himself and downed an impressive amount of the sweetshine they were sharing in one go.

“Leave some for the rest of us, kadan.” Ari swiped the bottle while Adaar folded her legs up on the bench.

“Fine, be boring and sensible,” she said, with two fingers pointed at Reth and Ari. “So Papa’s bet is he’s really just an elf mage, Tama’s bet is that but also a former slave—”

“I’m not going to bet on it,” Ari interjected. They drank a deep swig of sweetshine, then pushed it into Adaar’s hands. “I don’t actually want to be right on this. But I most likely am. Definitely more than any of you lot.”

“That’s depressing,” Adaar said with a grimace. She drank and passed the bottle to her mother. “I bet he’s an—not an abomination, like possessed, but something like it probably? An elf and some kind of spirit, fused together.”

“An old spirit,” Tehenan threw in.

“Oh yes, absolutely. The way he talks about ‘the old world’, it sounds like he was there for it, y’know? Like he’s seen it. Watched it all get sold up the coast.”

“My money’s on one of the Forgotten Ones,” Tehenan said with a grin. “Do you remember how pissed he was when Keeper Deshanna told the story of the Great Betrayal? That reeks of personal involvement.”

“Oof.” Adaar rested her chin in her hands, gaze unfocusing as she imagined what Solas might’ve looked like in the old days, before he got attached to his current shape. “That would be amazing.”

There was a soft lull as her parents’ gazes met among the table. Reth leaned his crossed arms on the table so he was at eye-level with his daughter.

“That doesn’t scare you?” he asked quietly. “The thought that you’re learning from someone who is—who is that old and strange and powerful? Whose nature is so alien?”

Adaar met his eyes. “Should it?”

“…No. You shouldn’t ever have to be afraid of anything.”

“I’m not.” She grinned. “Also, he has a really cute sneeze. I don’t think some creepy old god up to nefarious shit would sneeze like that. And—” she lunged all the way across the table to grab the sweetshine, “—if Solas was going to hurt me, he wouldn’t be teaching me all this magic, right? I can do so much more already.” She tapped the bottle, and frost bloomed along the glass from her fingertips. She set it down in mid-air and left it floating there, spinning lazily, drifting across the table. Ari’s posture shifted, tensed, and she listed against their shoulder, fumbling blindly for their hand, then squeezed it tight once she caught it.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it. I’m not gonna make it explode or anything.”

“But you could, huh.” Reth’s eyes flashed from across the table.

“Sure. But that’d be a waste of perfectly good sweetshine, and it’s really not that hard. Not breaking stuff is a lot more complicated than, well, breaking it.”

Ari sighed, and squeezed her hand back. “You have no idea how true that is.” They relaxed, and rested their cheek against Adaar’s temple. “Can you heat it up again, Sunspot? It’s too late for cold sweetshine.”

“Yep, let me just…” Adaar curled her claws and forced warmth back into the bottle at a measured pace. And, because she wanted to show off a bit more, she pushed further than before until the glass was comfortably hot to the touch and the bottle sailed from hand to hand without ever touching the table.

“This is good, kiddo. We should have it like this more often.” Tehenan smacked her lips after the first sip of the now heated drink. “Do you think Forgotten Ones know how to make sweetshine?”

Adaar laughed. “No idea. But if he doesn’t, I’ll teach him how when we make the next batch.”

[lairofdragonagelore]

DAI: Nation Art: Tevinter

These paintings appear in old Tevinter buildings or quite rarely on walls in the open. Since their presence is strong in Coracavus and Still Ruin, it’s fair to suspect they predate the Blights. If new interpretations arise, this post will be updated.

[This is part of the series “Playing DA like an archaeologist”]

This looks to me like a very aesthetic dragon face. It’s an image that decorates several Tevinter rooms in Coracavus or Still Ruin. It can be found  repeated several times in the cell section of Coracavus.

It appears in other objects as well. There are decorations in the upper part of the walls, doors or in the ceilings of Coravavus that depict this face over and over. We also find it in sulphur containers in Emprise du Lion or Western Approach. I have the impression that if this icon does not represent the Old Gods, it may represent the Archon or dragons. The way it’s depicted over and over in every Tevinter building suggests that it represents something powerful and important for the Tevinter culture.

It’s hard to make out any detail in the painting, while in the metal structures we can see the teeth, the nose and eyes, and a series of overlapped “horns”. These horns are similar to the top of the Tevinter Banner, which at the same time is similar to the ancient elvhenan banner [found in Elven Ruins, Trespasser]. I think this is one of the million examples in which the elvhen style has been taken and adapted by the Tevinters in their own design.

The next symbol is familiar to us. In DAO there was a statue that one could consider related to Tevinter which depicted a three-headed dragon.

This symbol with six snakes could be related to that old figure in DAO [even though most of the iconography in DAO is obsolete after DA2, while DA2 iconography holds a bit better in Inquisition]. Two of these statues could end up forming the symbol above.

Another old statue with three heads and [lame] snake/dragony shape was this one, quite popular in Denerim.

This painting of six snakes has little for me to understand. It’s another icon that represents Tevinter. Observing the details, we can see that the base of the snakes is painted in golden, as if they were fused [Could this be another hint of The Horror of Hormak?]

In the middle there is this small trapezoid that I can’t relate to anything. The only thing that comes to my mind very vaguely is  the shape of the building where the red-headed slaves sit against in DA2. Which is usually a representation of Kirkwall or the Gallows.  It makes no sense in this ancient painting with six snake heads. Unless it’s the mark of Tevinter experiments. But I don’t know.

Next one is the easiest. The symbol of Tevinter, in the same way it’s used in modern [ingame] times. A dragon and a snake. The dragon is a bit altered, we only see a single leg, and the three arrows coming down from its back seem to work as wings.

This is one of the symbols that can be found in the open at least once. And since its presence is stronger in Still Ruin, I think it’s easy for us to assume that this is a Tevinter representation of a Fade rift.

Its green colour helps for the interpretation. The star-like shape looks like a decent representation of the rifts, that we know, these ancient Tevinter have been experimenting with for a long while. This symbol, curiously, evolved to represent the Tevinter Slavers.

As a last detail, I would like to focus on the centre of this last painting. It looks like something we have seen in Elvhen paintings and statues: the golden ring or/and the orb, related to interpretations of control and power. This ring is also related to an elven owl statue, which, to no one surprise, is present in the Tevinter Arcane Flag [Source: Official art of Tevinter]. I don’t know where it’s used in game, but the similarities between them are undeniable: the arcane magic of Tevinter has a lot to do with the elvhen magic, and the use of Fade, rifts, foci [orbs] and this ring. The way Tevinter co-opted all the magical knowledge of the elvhen people is not hidden in the games.

[Index page of Dragon Age Lore ]

[felassan]

🔍 Peering at the cool Dark Fortress cover arts side-by-side and speculating with the synopses in mind, wondering if anything can be gleaned.. 👀 I know the covers aren’t usually 100% literal, it’s just that they’re so neat and I can’t help but be excited and I just rly enjoy speculating!!

Also iirc the cover for #2 emerged around Jan 22nd, maybe the cover for #3 will emerge in the next couple weeks?

(More generally speaking, who is the person whose path crossed Fenris’ and whose past we will get a glimpse of? I’m looking forward to the flashbacks to some characters’ backstories. I also wonder if like.. the comics are their own self-contained stories, complimentary media, but I wonder if there may be a hint or lil story-strand or two [story strand is prob a better word for it than hint] that could potentially tie-in to DA4 / the overarching plot - like how Gaius was an Agent of Fen’Harel, and how Meredith’s statue showed up in the comics, something like that. In any event I’m super excited for this latest look into what’s going on in the World of Thedas and for people who are associated with the [shadow] Inquisition!!)

But back to the covers: We know the person on the left is a new villain. I assume he is a mage, and possibly part of the Venatori or a remaining Old God cult. Could he be a son or other younger relative/associate of the late Magister Danarius? An apprentice or protégé perhaps? I wonder if he’s the heir of House Danarius and that seat in the Magisterium? Did he know Fenris or Varania from the time before Fenris escaped? This character’s song lyrics and grasping hands imply an expansive desire for power.

With the red eyes, does he want to be infused with red lyrium like the plan for Shirallas is - that’s why they tested it on humans? Or maybe he wants a [red] lyrium-infused warrior (Shirallas) the way Magister Danarius had a blue one before? Will he and Shirallas team up? Maybe rather than red lyrium or a stylistic choice it’s a nod towards something blood magic-related instead.

Is he maybe the mastermind or part of the masterminding behind the attempted unleashing of the dangerous power? What does said unleashing involve, some kind of ritual they’re going to try and complete? Is the dragon (or dragon-shaped entity may be more accurate) the ‘power’ at risk of being unleashed, or is it more like.. a representation of it? Its wings look a bit damaged or corrupted, and what’s going on with the fire or what does the fire signify? The shackles on its forelegs remind me a bit of Ataashi from Trespasser and how she’d been captured and confined. It also reminds me of the dragon that was bound and forced to serve as the possessed vessel of Hakkon Wintersbreath in Jaws of Hakkon. Fire is associated with Rage demons and Toth, and the remains of a broken collar [?] around its neck imply it has broken free of its bonds or what it is that keeps it ‘caged’. Its design reminds me a bit of the strange dragon on the right here for some reason, maybe it’s the strange wings. Perhaps this is all too literal tho and the dragon is more like a symbolic representation of the power at risk of being unleashed. 🐉 

(I also like how he and the mage on the right in that DA4 concept art have a similar collar design, Tevinter fashion babey..[?])

When you look at them side by side, it’s interesting how the white line pattern on the cover of #1 creates the impression of shackles on the wrists of and a collar around the neck of the person. His and the dragon’s head and eyes are also in the same rough place on their respective pages. And there’s their red or glowing eyes and open mouths, and a circle of weaponry in both, as well as sharp draconic ‘talons’ on the person’s metal gauntlet. I don’t know if it implies a connection between the two or if it’s more like, cool cover design choices as in visual similarity/cohesion as it’s for the same comic ofc - either way I just think it’s really cool. 

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ ...

[jackdawyt]

We’ve finally reached the moment my channel was created for, BioWare officially revealed a brand-new behind the scenes trailer that showcased many gameplay prototypes, concept artwork pieces and next-gen footage that each demonstrate Dragon Age 4’s current production stages, building an overall mood of the game’s vision and direction. And it’s just the best thing to come out of this year.  

Saria and myself have already broken down the trailer’s concept art, and gameplay shots in an incredible 45-minute video, that you need to check out if you’re remotely interested in the next Dragon Age game.

However, today I’m delving into every single piece of information that surrounds this new trailer, as we’ve got plenty of news, tweets and tidbits to delve into!  

First up though, before the trailer’s release we had a few related tweets from the team regarding the current production of the game.  

Production Updates:

In late July, Mark Darrah tweeted some updates about Dragon Age 4’s development. He said: “I realize that most of you are here for Dragon Age news and there hasn't been a lot of that lately...

Let me just run down some things I can say:

1. We are working on the next Dragon Age

2. Yes we are working from home

3. Working from home is harder  

4. We are making progress”

Continuing from that, John Epler retweeted Darrah’s post and said: “WFH is hard! But we're figuring it out, a little better every day. I miss lunches with my team, though.”

And, Patrick Weekes tweeted: “An exhausting but productive week, with a bunch of folks across the Narrative team coming together for Writer Voltron to look at some stuff and figure out how to make it better. Harder over Zoom, but worth it nevertheless.”

@stoner_gordon asked Patrick: “Writer Voltron? Maybe I’m slow today but what do you mean by that?”

Patrick Weekes replied: “There are things writers can work on for awhile by ourselves. Followers, or individual quests. But some stuff is owned by multiple writers, so we set aside time for all of us (plus non-writers involved with Narrative) to get together and hash things out. That’s Writer Voltron.

It is mostly a TON of meetings. We go over content and see what works and what doesn’t. It’s also the time where we make big narrative decisions as a team (or make big proposals we then bring to other affected departments).

Examples of stuff we decide at things like this:

- Hey, this big story element doesn’t work

- How should we do romances?

- Hey, this big huge thing is unclear

- Does it feel like we’re all making the same game?

We have a great team. It’s positive. We’re all exhausted by Friday.”

This was a very interesting look at how the writing team are pushing forward during the current world situation, ensuring that each writer can push on with individual work, while tasks that are assigned to many writers are slightly trickier, the team are working it out, while staying as safe as possible. And, I’m always eager to hear how certain things like individual quests, followers and romances are being developed.

Dragon Age Website Update:  

With the new trailer’s release, the Dragon Age website was updated. The trailer itself ended on the notion of visiting DragonAge.com.  

Upon impact to the site, there’s a red lyrium wallpaper with a slogan that says:

The world needs a new hero. Will you answer the call?

“Journey into the world of Thedas in Dragon Age™. Discover new adventures full of striking characters, powerful magic, and rich storytelling. Meet an incredible number of Humans, Elves, Dwarves, and Qunari in a realm where every decision you make echoes across history.”

New protagonist, new adventures, striking characters, powerful magic, rich storytelling, a roster of races with every decision having rippling effects in the world. Each quality that truly define a Dragon Age game. Very exciting to see this!  

Behind The Scenes Trailer:

Onwards to the trailer, we have many of the amazing developers sharing plenty of insights into the next Dragon Age game’s vision and development.

Casey Hudson stated their using next generation technology, which will be Anthem’s codebase and tools of the Frostbite engine, to bring the world and characters of Dragon Age to life. And the team are still in early production, I’ve estimated that they’ve been in production stages for around 15 months, since May 2019.  

Casey Hudson (General Manager): “We’ve been using next generation technology to bring the world and characters of Dragon Age to life. We’re still in early production.”  

Gameplay Designer Melissa Janowicz spoke about creating bosses and how she helps with many of the creature designs, mostly doing the big threats we’ll go up against. This trailer’s concept art certainly paints a picture of many dark, evil monsters to defeat.  

Melissa Janowicz (Gameplay Designer): “We’re very experimental here at BioWare, so we’re always coming up with new stuff.”  

“I actually design bosses; I help with the creature design team as well. So, I do all of the big threats you have to go up against.”  

The Creative Director, and previous Art Director, Matthew Goldman shared that Dragon Age is all about mystery, and hard-boiled detective stories, which is an egg-cellent pun. All wrapped up in a fantasy setting, with an original world.

Matthew Goldman (Creative Director): “The world of Dragon Age has really got it all, it’s got frontier stories, it’s got mystery, it’s got hard-boiled detective stories. And of course, it’s all wrapped up in kind of a fantasy setting.”

“This is an original world, original flora, original wildlife, original architecture, that makes it fun to explore and discover.”

Executive Producer, and proficient teaser, Mark Darrah shared that in the next Dragon Age, we get an opportunity to see new things, new places, and interact with people who lived and grew up in these spaces as well.  

There’s a huge emphasis on characters we haven’t met yet, because of course, the Inquisition declared it would look for new people to deal with Solas. We’re going to Northern Thedas, we should expect brand new characters to fall in love with.  

Mark Darrah (Executive Producer): “In the next Dragon Age, we get an opportunity to see new things, new places, and interact with people who lived and grew up in these spaces as well.”  

Mastermind, and Lead Writer Patrick Weekes shared about the game that currently working on, and how they want to tell a very different story about what happens when you don’t have power, what happens when the people in charge aren’t willing to address the issues.  

This time around, we’re playing as a new hero, with not nearly as enough power like the Inquisitor, but instead someone who most likely comes from humble tidings, at a guess, someone like a spy, Antivan Crow, or Lord of Fortune.  

No matter the role, our main character will have many conflicts with the predominate people in charge, as they aren’t willing to tackle the issues at stake. I can assume many ideas of course, perhaps the Tevinter Magisterium, The Qunari Invasion, or the Dread Wolf’s scheme.  

Whatever powerful force that may ignore the ongoing issues, there’s going to be a lot of conflict from what can assume is going forward thanks to Tevinter Nights. 

Patrick Weekes (Lead Writer): “For the game we’re working on now, we want to tell a story – what happens when you don’t have power, what happens when the people in charge aren’t willing to address the issues.”

Arby’s Enthusiast, and Narrative Director John Epler spoke on the things we can expect in the next instalment, there are going to be stories that focus on the people around you, and the friends and family you make.  

Every Dragon Age game is about the family we create along the way, expecting more of that, lightens my heart!  

John Epler (Narrative Director): “The things you can expect in the next instalment are going to be stories that focus on the people around you, and the friends and family you make.”

“I just love the possibilities that Dragon Age offers us, and I’m excited to explore a lot more of them.”

Associate Producer Jen Cheverie shared that something we’ll be able to look forward to in the next Dragon Age are really close relationships with game characters who really become real for you. I’m so excited to see how relationships and friendships develop in the next game.  

Jen Cheverie (Assoc. Producer): “Something we’ll be able to look forward to in Dragon Age is a really close relationship with game characters who really become real for you.”

Foundation Technical Director, Jon Renish, with an amazing beard, spoke on how BioWare want characters to either be loved or hated, the best examples of that is Solas. Half of the community wants to kill him, half the people want to marry him, then another part want to do both.

The fact that the devs can stir these reactions, proves that BioWare can and will create characters that move, and shape us.  

If they can make you love or hate a character, they’ve successfully made you care for this world, even if hate is that motivator. However, if you felt nothing for a character, then you wouldn’t have these strong reactions, and wouldn’t feel as connected to the world, or that character.  

Jon Renish (Foundation Technical Director): “We want characters to either be loved or hated, one of the best examples of that is Solas. Half of the community wants to kill him, half the people want to marry him, then another part want to do both.”

Lead Creature Animator, Esther Ko confirmed that Dragon Age 4 is being created using motion-matching technology, that will ensure characters will be as realistic as possible, from the way they walk, move and interact.  

We saw a sneak peak of Solas’s facial animations, and we can already see the improvement of graphical fidelity and animation quality.  

Esther Ko (Lead Creature Animator): “BioWare and EA have been one of the forerunners in using motion matching technology, and that makes it way more realistic for when you're looking at the characters, the way the walk and move, and interact in the world.”

Writer Slyvia Feketekuty spoke on how players want suspension of their disbelief, to believe that the bunch of pixels that make up these characters are actually a living, breathing soul.  

Slyvia Feketekuty (Writer): “Players want that suspension of disbelief that this wonderful collection of digital pixels is actually a living breathing soul.”

Gameplay Director Andre Garcia said that choice is a big part of what Dragon Age is as a franchise, the decisions you make can affect change in the world. Reiterating that the next Dragon Age will most certainly surround our choices, with consequences for each.

Andre Garcia (Gameplay Director): “Choice is a big part of what Dragon Age is as a franchise, the decisions you make can affect change in the world.”

Adding more fuel to the fire for choices and consequences, RPG Programmer Katrina Barkwell spoke on decision-making meaning that a party member lives, or a party member dies. Ultimately, choice making means owning your outcome and reactivity to the choices that you do make.

Katrina Barkwell (RPG Programmer): “Decision-making can mean that a party member lives, or a party member dies. And it means owning your outcome and reactivity to the choices that you do make.”

I said in my breakdown, and I’ll say it again here, it was very nice to see a few of the developers that we love and support in this trailer, sharing vital information on the next game. The story about Dragon Age 4’s development is all about the people creating it, and I am so glad that BioWare have an amazing, tremendously talented bunch of people who know what Dragon Age is.

Adding to that, it was so wholesome to see many of the other developers on a zoom call, showing how despite the current world situation, they’re doing all they can to push the development of the next Dragon Age.  

Key Trailer Features:

Moving on, throughout the trailer, we had many key features highlighted.  

The in-engine shots showcase the next-gen improved fidelity and quality of the Frostbite engine. The reveal of Solas’s facial animations indicate more realistic and life-like animations and scenes, just look at his pearly white teeth, and how his face folds.

And the Gameplay shots reveal a character playing as a warrior, with a sword and shield, wearing Grey Warden armour. Most certainly, the character is a champion specialization, indicated by the “Line in the Sand” ability.  

We see them evading, blocking, shield bashing, and preparing to strike. The camera placement is solid, I really like the angle it currently has, I’m hoping it stays like this.  

The spider with hands is incredibly frightening, however, beautifully animated. I just hope it’s not going to grab items like the barrel, and throw them at us, when approaching combat.  

Two brand-new voice actors were revealed: Jee Young Han & Ike Amadi

Jee Young Han previously appeared in Anthem, as the character Sentinel Dax. In Dragon Age 4, conceptually, she’s playing a character called “Bellara”, whom I’d suspect is a dwarf, given that Qunari and Dwarves generally have American voice actors. Not to mention her dialogue line of something being “the good kind of rumble.”

Ike Amadi, also appeared in a previous BioWare title, being Mass Effect 3, as he played Javik! It seems he’s playing a character by the name of Davrin. Who is most certainly a Grey Warden, indicated by his dialogue? Perhaps he’s the Grey Warden in Tevinter Nights’ cover, considering none of the characters on the book’s cover appeared in the actual book?

Concept Art:

Moving on, the majority of the trailer features amazing conceptual artwork that reflects the mood, tone, story threads and narrative beats that the developers would like the final game to take inspiration from.  

Equally, that means the concepts may or may not appear in the finished project, it’s too early to tell. However, that doesn’t mean we shouldn't pass on dissecting and inspecting the art pieces, because we get a sense of BioWare’s vision, scope and direction for Dragon Age 4.  

Adding to this, Patrick Weekes tweeted about how concept art is used to create a mood, not to outrightly confirm things, but for a framework. While some concepts may excite you, like “Harley Qun”, don’t get attached just yet because they may, and will change.  

To quote Weekes: “We can't answer questions right now about who is or isn't a follower or what story choices we're making. Beyond giving away too much too early, we could also give you the wrong impression and leave you disappointed later. Or we might need to change things between now and ship.  

What I can say is that I personally am proud and excited about the game we're making. I hope that came through in the video. I also hope you have fun speculating, even if we can't answer questions right now. You all made a lot of devs' days yesterday. Thanks.”

So, while it’s absolutely fun, and amazing to speculate about what these concepts may relate to, and the direction of the next game, don’t get too attached just in case certain plot threads or characters are cut or changed.  

Needless to say, me and Saria still have plenty of speculation videos coming up following the trailer, because we find enjoyment in speculation, and seeing how far off from the truth we were when the game actually does ship, I think that’s a good mindset to have.

Regarding the trailer as a whole, I think it’s fair to say it was created as a reaction to what was shown at EA Play. A lot of the fanbase, and people in general were upset with what was shown, however, BioWare listened to us, and delivered this behind the scenes trailer, two months after.  

We can tell it was recently filmed too, not to get too stalker-ry, but Patrick Weekes dyed their hair on the 19th, June, which was a day after EA Play.  

If they had done so before, Weekes’ would’ve had their natural hair-colour in the trailer.  

So, even with the current world situation, the developers took the time to film and create this amazing BTS trailer. Speaking on behalf of the entire DA fandom, thank you so much BioWare for giving us a trailer while in very early-production stages. It has been the saving grace of 2020.  

Romance Teases:

In other news, we have a few Weekes Tweets that regard romance in the future.

Patrick Weekes retweeted @nevarran-novice saying: “This is my formal request that BioWare give us at least one emotionally damaging romance for every Dragon Age game. Like, literally scoop my soul out and throw it at the wall with the angst. Please.”  

Patrick replied with: “I mean I like happy romances with fun positive endings, but the customer is always right!”

It really is true; we all love pain and tragedy in this fandom, as we play Lost Elf theme at 1 am, sobbing in the night. I’m not the only one, right?

Patrick Weekes tweeted: “Hi, sorry, stumbled across this while looking for something else. Just wanted to say:

- Disliking a character or ship is totally valid and does not hurt my feelings

- Coming into someone’s space to say that what they like or dislike is wrong is bad, sorry that happened to you.

And in games with romances, I believe that the same-sex romances should offer the same spectrum of sweet-to-spicy that the straight options do. If all our m/m romances feel dirty while our m/f romances range from romantic to raunchy, then we need to do better.

This clearly hints to BioWare making their future romances more tasteful for every type of romance, which is always good, more inclusivity for everyone! In my honest opinion, I don’t need sex scenes to drive romances, while I’m sure I’d love one for a potential Qunari female wife, I don’t need, or desire them for every single character. Sex and romance in moderation; while being tasteful, sounds perfect in my opinion.  

In the concept artwork, we saw a sexy, Qunari female, that many of us have dubbed the nickname “Harley Qun”, while it’s really hard not to get attached, it’s nice to see BioWare making this character idea more of a reality.  

In 2017, a fan asked Weekes about the idea of a strong female Qunari companion. Weekes replied: “definitely a chance. We like doing character types we haven’t down before, and that would be a biggie in hypothetical future game.”

 So, while Harley is still just a concept design, there’s much potential for her in the future. I wonder if Patrick is writing her too, not that I’m basing my news on retweets, but Patrick has been retweeting a lot of her fanart. But that could just be because we’re already obsessed with her.  

Final romance related tweet, because I didn’t know where else to put this one... Patrick Weekes tweeted: “Is "Dick in a Box" formally a Lonely Island song, or is it technically SNL? It's for work.”

So, erm. Yep, there’s that.  

Mark....:

Mark Darrah tweeted: “No release date to share at this time…” Obviously as a joke, for those who don’t know, the next Dragon Age is at least 2-3 years away, according to EA’s 2019 earnings call.  

Next Comic:

As a final, very exciting news update, Nunzio DeFillipis, the amazing Dragon Age comic writer, alongside with his wife, Christian Weir posted on Tumblr about the potential of a new comic mini-series:  

They replied to autopotion asking about the future of the comics, saying:

“We have another miniseries planned - and it would have come out this year if not for the current world situation shutting down the industry.  We don’t want to promise anything, because everything is so up in the air with the entire world right now.  But what we can say is that if and when there is another miniseries, it will wrap up the story we’ve been telling since Knight Errant.  We will then aim to tell more stories, but one thing at a time.”  

“Wish we could say more.  Because we have a LOT to say, we promise.  Hopefully we can talk about things soon.”

As an absolute fan of each of the Dragon Age comics, the fact that most certainly another one is on its way, and it will end the narrative since Knight Errant excites the crap out of me. Originally, it seems we would’ve had two comic launches this year, Blue Wratih to start year, and one following from that, ending 2020.  

I imagine we’ll see this project back on track soon. It sounds as if this one may be a conclusion to the current comic roster, and after that, we may get brand new stories explored in other comics. While that’s quite far off, I adore this team behind the comics, and eagerly await an update to their stories.  

With all that said, that’s a wrap for this most exciting news update, I’m honestly so excited to be creating Dragon Age content at the moment, making videos that I’ve dreamed about creating for so long. Check out my latest breakdown, and if you’re new, why not follow me, you’re in the best place to be informed on all things Dragon Age related. From the lore to speculation and news, I have it all here.  

[wizardofozymandias]

14 Days of DA Lovers Prompt Event, Day 4: Candlelight

Written for the @14daysdalovers prompt event.

Pairing: Solas/Female Lavellan

Characters: Solas, Nessa Lavellan

Summary: Solas begins painting his frescoes in the Skyhold rotunda and considers his thoughts on the Inquisitor. (The descriptions of Solas’s painting technique were based on this excellent meta post.) 

The fortress was quiet at night. There was, of course, still the gentle hum of life filling its halls. But the day sounds—shouting voices, craftsmen mending the half-ruined building, the cries of Leliana’s birds, and so many other noises mingled together—were stilled for the hours between dark and dawn. It was at this more peaceful time that Solas took up a new task he had set for himself.

He had already applied a smooth coat of plaster to the walls of the rotunda, preparing it for the work he would do next. He had made a sketch of his design, as well, upon an enormous sheet of paper. Once the paper was fastened to the plaster, he traced the edges of the images it bore with a sliver of wood, carving their shapes into the plaster. When he had finished with the broader outlines, he used a small bag of charcoal to trace the more intricate details through holes pierced into the paper. Peeling the paper away revealed the foundations he would use to build his work. 

Afterward, his work began in earnest: filling in the outlines with paint, setting the image into the wall permanently. He made several trips up and down the scaffolding, carrying the various jars of water and paints he would require. Then he began to paint. 

Centuries ago, when Arlathan still stood in the waking world, Solas had learned the art of fresco painting. The skill had served him well for a while. The powerful were wont to forget the silent craftsman who sat listening to their secrets. 

Now, he worked in the quiet of the night to still his mind as he wondered at the caprices of fate. Plaster smoothed over fresh-washed walls, spread thin as the Veil between the mundane world and the Fade. Paper laid over plaster, shaping the raw material into substance. Traceworks setting the boundaries to be filled. And finally, paint spreading across the entirety, imbuing it with life. 

His brushstrokes trailed faint colors, filling the outlines he had carved into the fresh plaster. This would be his gift to the Inquisitor, a tribute to her work. There would be no removing the paintings without destroying the very fabric of the walls. A fitting homage (and admonishment) to the woman whose choices shaped the world. 

As his brush illuminated the cataclysm of the Breach, Solas considered the events of the last months. Nothing had gone according to plan. Not in a very long while. At first, Solas had been furious. Corypheus was meant to have died. Instead, the Fade was torn open, bleeding demons across the waking world. The Chantry scrambled to make superstitious sense of the disaster, and in the midst of everything was a fumbling Dalish elf with his own magic branded onto her hand. 

He tried everything he knew to remove the Anchor. She was too weak to bear it. No mortal could without dying. But his powers were too weak without the orb. He managed only to siphon off some of the magic of the mark, stabilizing it and preventing it from killing its bearer. The elf woman who had been led from the Conclave in chains was raised up as a hero, the chosen of a god she did not follow. 

The next stretch of the fresco revealed the way Solas had perceived the Chantry’s new Herald in those days: transfixed by the staring eye of the Chantry’s military and hemmed in by wolves. A weapon forged by the servants of Andraste, held tight in their grip. 

And yet she had managed to surprise him. “You came here to help, Solas. I won’t let them use that against you.” She had reassured him as if it were an obvious thing—as if there were no doubt she would defend him against the Chantry. 

“How would you stop them?” he had asked her. It had been a struggle to disguise his cynicism. What could the Chantry’s captive do to defend an unknown apostate?

“However I had to,” she had stated. The edge to her voice surprised him. Suddenly, she did not sound like the sort who would give in to whatever the Chantry demanded of her. 

As Solas drew black paint across the wall, he realized just how strong the Inquisitor had proven to be. The figure he outlined cast a long shadow across the world. Alexius, that snake out of Tevinter, who had altered the very flow of time with his greedy, foolish magic.

And the Inquisitor, not even bearing that title yet, had dared him to strike her down. She stole the mages right out from under the magister, then rewrote history to save the world. 

The scene Solas filled in showed the dark split of time—two castles at Redcliffe, one marred with red lyrium, the other mundane in the sunlight. When Nessa—the Inquisitor, he corrected himself—had asked him if he remembered the dark future at Redcliffe, Solas lied. It was better if she believed that future existed only in her fading memories.

The rebel mages were welcomed into the Inquisition as allies—something Solas had considered impossible. As unlikely as it had seemed at first, the woman the Chantry had chosen to lead them would not be swayed from what she believed was the right course of action. And Solas could only describe his feeling at watching her defy them as. . .awe. She was not at all what the Chantry was looking for. But they had no choice to follow her. It was that, or leave the world at the mercy of the shredded Veil. 

Solas chuckled to himself. What a fix the Chantry was in, led by a stubborn, sharp-tongued elf. It served them right. And as for Nessa. . .she had proven herself to be far beyond what Solas had expected, when he had sat by her side, cursing her for taking the Anchor. Perhaps he should speak with her, tell her the truth of how deeply she had impressed him. 

With that resolution, Solas made his final brushstroke. As he slowly emerged from his reverie, he realized that he had worked late into the night. Only a single candle still burned, barely illuminating the vivid colors beginning to form on the plaster. 

[thedinanshiral]

The Next Dragon Age

As we’ve all seen during the Game Awards 2020 we got an official teaser for Dragon Age 4! Everyone is already analysing it, so here’s my personal quick take. 

It starts with a new mural reveal, slowly showing us parts of it while Varric gives us a bit of a prep talk. He’s faced tyrants and would-be gods,he says, as we see Meredith consumed by red lyrium and Corypheus holding the Orb of Destruction.

Then he continues basically saying how there’s always someoneo trying to destroy the world, and here’s where it gets interesting, as the following figures in the mural are completely new and unknown

These figures are upside down, both have horn-like headpieces, both have their arms crossed over the chest, both have halos. I’m 99% sure these are Evanuris, but the mystery remains, which ones? One appears more femenine than the other, so considering certain elements, like the shape of the headpieces and what we learned from Tevinter Nights, these could be any from a selection of Evanuris, namely Mythal, Elgar’nan, Ghilan’nain, Falon’din and Dirthamen.

Mythal and Elgar’nan because they represent the moon and the sun and the headpieces make it evident which is which. Ghilan’nain because DA4 concept art revealed in Bioware’s 25th anniversary book shows one of the marine monsters have the same head shape and we know Ghilan’nain created sea monsters. The relation to Falon’din and Dirthamen is a bit trickier, as it ties in with the Evanuris=Old Gods theory together with the remaining two Blights corresponding to Lusacan (Dragon of Night, possible equivalent to Falon’din Guide of the Death) and Razikale (Dragon of Mystery, possible equivalent to Dirthamen God of Secrets). Both Evanuris were said to be brothers and very close so, if they are in fact the Old Gods that remain, it’d make sense that they appeared together. 

Then this cinematic teaser trailer shows us new locations and examples of either companions or a new protagonist as Varric speaks over and over sabout “a new hero”, “someone nobody will see coming”. So we see what could be the Anderfells

Then Antiva

 And Minrathous

..while getting glimpses of new figures like what could be a Grey Warden

an Antivan Crow

...possibly a Tevinter Siccari or otherwise another Crow or assassin of some yet unknown affiliation

And an entirely new faction we have no name for yet, that we saw in the previously revealed concept art

Most likely an elf for two reasons, one being they look like what could be ancient elves with magic/tech unknown so far

and two because something similar served as illustration for one of the recent short stories posted on the Dragon Age site, the one titled “Ruins of Reality” with the two elven characters from Three trees to Midnight, the first story on Tevinter Nights

But after we get a quick look at new locations and new companions/protagonists, we get a full view of the mural, and Solas

Solas looks a bit weird here because this is a cinematic trailer, so the model used differs from the one in game, both previously seen on the BTS video.

Then we get a cute and simple title screen and it’s over.

Personally, i’m loving the dark and gold theme we have now, i hope it stays. 

As for the new mural, it has a central piece that calls for analysis

The Dread Wolf! We’ve always seen Sola’s portrayal of his other form in profile only, be it on the Trespasser murals or in his Tower card as well as the previous teaser from 2018, but now we see the Wolf up front. The eyes are six in number, and out of alignment, both eyes and pupils varying in size. The mouth is open and red, as it seems to strike down onto a city, smashing the barrier that surrounds it. Is the barrier the Veil? Is that the Black City, or Minrathous? We can take a better look here..

The city seems to be affected by red lyrium, so frankly, it could be either, as red lyrium has spread far and too quickly through Thedas, and the Black City has been corrupted at least since before the Magisters Sidereal visited. It’s also worth noting that Tevinter was built on the ruins of the former Elvhen empire, so it’s likely both cities are on the same place, in a way. 

Now, because Solas paints these murals, and he’s already shown a predilection for self-portraits, i think this new mural must be considered as Solas showing this particular aspect of himself, at this point in his history where he knows he’s about to do something catastrophic. He thinks it necessary, that every alternative is worse, but that doesn’t make it any easier or excusable. I think this version of the Dread Wolf we’re getting is Solas expressing his current instability. He is, first and foremost, battling himself, constantly. This is a twisted wolf, it looks deranged, eyes mad, mouth bloody, coming down in full force. This is something he doesn’t want to do but feels he has to, this is something he will regret and surely knows that. Notice how in the trailer a single ray of light illuminates only the well-aligned three eyes on one side, while the remaining three that look off stay in the shadows? Yeah, details.

I won’t dwell now on what sort of game we’ll get, based on this alone, but it’s not impossible that Solas turns from antagonist to ally again, should those two mysterious figures turn out to be either dangerous freed Evanuris or the remaining Old Gods threatening a double Blight. I think a double Blight is on the cards and it’d be something even Solas would have to deal with before moving on with his personal plans, as i doubt a blighted world is what he wants for his people. 

This concept art plays with the idea, with these two dragons (or is it a double headed dragon?) and the party fighting off darkspawn. Double Blight is definitely on the cards for the next game.

Next time i’ll be sharing some short notes on the short stories we got on the Dragon Age site, and my analysis of what i think we might get for the next game. 

[degenerate-perturbation]

Chapters: 24/38 Fandom: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening, Dragon Age II Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Female Amell/Female Surana Characters: Female Amell, Female Surana, Anders, Velanna, Nathaniel Howe, Oghren (Dragon Age), Justice (Dragon Age), Sigrun (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras, Isabela (Dragon Age), Male Hawke (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Self-Harm, Blood Magic, Prostitution, Drowning, Wilderness Survival, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better Series: Part 2 of void and light, blood and spirit Summary: Amell and Surana are out of the Circle, and are now free to build a life together. But when the prison doors fly open, what do you have in common with the one shackled next to you, save for the chains that bound you both?

Loriel had not expected to miss Avernus quite so much.

Months went by without word from him. First few enough for her not to notice, and then too many for her to ignore. A dozen times over the past months she had thought to write him, and then decided that no, she didn’t need to after all, but she couldn’t pretend that forever.

It was her own petty, childish pride, then and now. She had fought him just to prove that she’d win, and writing him now would be admitting that she needed his counsel. Which she did

She still wasn’t going to do it.

More than the man himself she missed his knowledge and experience. And if not that, then at least someone to report her findings to. Someone who would care if she didn’t get anything done, and who would care about what she had to say about it. And yes, perhaps that amounted to missing the man himself, too.

The worst of it was that her work had stalled without him. Her rigor and meticulous care wasn’t enough anymore, and she was no closer to cracking open the crystal and finding the Architect than she’d been any time before. She began to lose whole days to restless pacing, to picking up books and putting them down again, to feeling her eyes move across pages and absorbing absolutely nothing. She had not thought that the loss of a sporadic correspondence partner would undo her so badly.

The work had to continue. 

Had she been a spirit mage, she would have had options—spirits of knowledge weren’t that uncommon. The Chantry did not teach its prisoners to speak to them, but a powerful spirit mage could have managed it. The Dalish did so, and so did the Alemarri. Spirit lore was something that might have been available to her, when she was eighteen or twenty and still fresh.

But she had bathed too long in her own blood, and her connection to the Fade had rotted. So it would have to be a demon, and she would have to bind it.

For all her transgressions, Loriel did not make binding demons a habit. Less out of any unwillingness to transgress—what sacred rule had she not already broken?—than a sense of calculated risk. Any imperfection in the binding, and the demon was out, ready to turn its wroth on the first target it could get its hands on—generally, the mage who had bound it.

It was a bad idea, she knew that going in. She would do it anyway.

That did not mean she would be stupid. She did her due diligence. She read up, poring over every scrap of demon lore in her library. Abelard’s Index of Foulest Daymons was particularly helpful. She had borrowed the tome from Avernus and only vaguely intended to return it, and now it seemed like she wouldn’t have to. It was a murderously heavy text, listing every type and subtype and sub-sub-and-so-on-type of demon known to exist, their names and habits, their foibles and tricks, how best to bind one, and what one might ply it with. Better yet, Abelard had lived in Tevinter during the Steel age, and his text was unsullied with Chantry prejudices.

She practiced first. When finally it came time to summon something, she spent hours carefully inscribing the binding circle—with far more care than what she intended to summon really warranted. She started with wisps and wraiths, half-formed blobs of Fade-stuff still waiting to become, lashing them to her will and releasing them again. When she could do this as easy as breathing, she moved on to demons of hunger. Hunger was something she no longer felt, and could not be tempted by, though hunger demons were more likely to try and eat her than to tempt her. 

Next she tried Rage and Desire, creatures of things she had felt once, but hadn’t for months and years. If Rage might still bring heat to her blood, if only in the form of intense irritation, Desire offered nothing she’d ever take. Loriel had no fear of Desire. She’d already had the thing she most greatly desired, had it, and thrown it away—on purpose. Nothing else in this world existed that Loriel could be said to desire.

Sloth she avoided. Sloth—Torpor—was the only one demon who had ever gotten the better of her, who she hadn’t defeated herself. It was too great a risk, that she’d lie down and sleep until the end of the world, given half a demon-shaped excuse.

These lesser demons, though, would be of no use to her. What she needed was knowledge, and what that meant something like Pride.

Abelard’s Index was not very reliable for lesser demons who had since returned to the Fade-sea and reformed. It listed appearances they no longer wore, personalities they had long shed, even if their basic natures would reform. But for powerful demons who had amassed centuries of memory—just the one she would need—Abelard was perfect. She read and reread the relevant heading, squinting at the antiquated Tevene. Vainglory, Audacity, Superbia, Narcissus—no, not quite, no, and no. Demons that dealt with forbidden things—Censorus, Proscripta, Obscurus, Taboo—no, not that one, not this one neither. Then she saw the subheading—Daymons of Knoweledge.

Demons of knowledge came in all manner of forms—she paused for a time on Secerne, who collected secrets. It dealt only with knowledge that no-one else knew. Tempting—but such a creature would hardly be likely to give its secrets up and render them useless to itself. A blood mage could bind a demon and constraint it, but to compel it was pointless—you’d probably just end up destroying it, and if you were after knowledge, what good was that? No, once bound, the demon would have to be dealt with the old fashioned way.

Revelatus traded desired knowledge for undesired knowledge. It would tell you anything you wanted to know, and then something you didn’t want to know—the worst thing your lover had ever thought of you, how happy you might have been if you had just chosen differently, what was really in your sausage. Countless men had been driven mad by this one, Abelard warned. Loriel decided not to test her luck.

Finally she settled on a demon called Veritas, who spoke only truths. It was an ancient creature of malice and cunning, but it would tell her the truth, and for that Loriel would give anything.

tck

There came a point where even she could not justify dithering any longer. Weeks had passed since she had decided she would bind a demon. On the chosen day, she made all her preparations, triple-checked her summoning circle, cast spell after protective spell. Finally she could find no more excuses to delay—she spilled her blood and spoke the words.

The air itself seemed to part, and a greenish miasma spilled forth from the crack. A shape was being pulled through, too big for such a modest aperture, yet somehow, terribly, emerging. Reality bulged and bent, and finally, a demon climbed out.

It was smaller than other Pride demons, shaped something like a bear and something like a lion, though in place of claws or talons, it had clever human fingers. Its face was covered with a golden mask, shaped into the form of a human face. Its hide was pitch black, and every inch of it covered with blinking, roving eyes.  It raised its head, as though to sniff the air, and bent to examine its new situation, noting the summoning circle, the runes of binding and restraint. 

“Hello,” said Loriel. “Might you confirm your name?”

The thousand eyes blinked all at once. “I am Veritas, he who knows ten thousand truths.” Its voice came through as though from far away, echoing around the chamber.

“Ten thousand only?”

“No, far more! Many, many more! I know more truths than there are stars in your sky, more truths than there are grains of sand in your deserts, more truths than the number of breaths you will take—”

“That is more than ten thousand.”

“That I know ten thousand truths was not a lie.”

“Oh, I see. You’re one of those demons of knowledge.”

She had succeeded in offending it. “What do you mean by that?”

“You speak only in riddles and technical truths. You say things that are true by letter only, and lies by implication. Disappointing,” said Loriel, pouring unimpressed into her voice.

It scowled around the room—or seemed to. She could not see its face behind the golden mask. “Why can I not see you, little mageling? Where are you?”

Invisibly, Loriel produced a faint crescent of a smile. “I am here in this room with you, Veritas.” Her voice echoed through the chamber as she spoke, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. The demon’s ears twitched, and only then did Loriel realize that even telling it that she was there in the room with it was more than she meant to say.

“So you are, mageling, so you are. Why have you summoned me?”

“Why do mages ever summon you? I seek knowledge you might have.”

“Why should I tell you anything I know, when you have dragged me so rudely from my home?”

“I will make it worth your while, Veritas. I offer knowledge in exchange for knowledge.”

Veritas laughed. It was a horrible sound, like broken glass. Loriel didn’t dare speak. “Little mageling, you know nothing I do not. I have sought out truths for centuries, bent only upon knowing, and you, little girl, whose lifetime is as a mayfly’s breath to a being like myself—you presume to offer me knowledge? You presume to know something I do not?”

Loriel let the echo of the last word fade, then said calmly, “What is my name?”

No answer.

“So you do not know it,” Loriel said. “And I am forced to conclude, Veritas, that I do know some things that you do not.”

The demon paced inside its narrow circle on all fours. “Aren’t you a darling little pedant! Very well, I’ll take your deal, but I will take it on my terms. You may ask me one question, but first, you must tell me something I do not know. Do not lie! If you answer falsely, I shall know, and I shall devour your heart.”

An empty threat. Veritas was bound. It was subject to her will. It couldn’t get out if it wanted to—or else what was the point of blood magic binding? She was perfectly safe. It was bluffing—

...No, it wasn’t. Of course not. The demon of truth could not bluff. If Veritas bluffed it would no longer be Veritas. I shall devour your heart. Not a promise or a threat, but a statement of fact.

“Very well,” Loriel said steadily. “I shall speak truly.”

“What,” grinned the demon, “is the full, entire, and complete name by which you are called?”

She should have seen that coming. “My name is Loriel Surana.” 

Loriel was common enough for elves. And Surana was not even her family name; it was just what all elves were called in the Circle. Elves had no family names.

“Loriel Surana,” said Veritas, tasting it, savoring it. “Loriel Surana, Loriel Surana...yes, I know of you.”

She was so startled that the question came out unbidden: “What do you mean?”

“Your name floats upon the Fade like a dying leaf upon the breeze! One who often walks free along its emerald waters has called and called it, lacquered it with misery and love, twisted it with hatred and longing. Your name forms an island of despair and desire; tempests that will not calm; storms that will not pass. Yes, what a name!”

“I see,” Loriel said neutrally. Whatever bloomed in her to hear that, she stoppered it at once. “I answered your question, demon, so here is mine—”

“Ah, ah, ah!” The demon waggled a finger not-quite-at her. “You already asked your question. You asked me what I meant. Now it is my turn again. Where in this room are you right now?”

“I am standing in the northeastern corner of this chamber,” Loriel answered, and slowly, on magically silenced feet, moved to the southeastern corner instead.

“No fair,” the demon complained. “I did not know which way was northeast.”

“Oh? Then my mistake. But I answered your question, so here is mine. Where is the ancient darkspawn being known to many as the Architect?”

“The Architect is underground,” the demon said sulkily.

Loriel felt a vein throb in her forehead. “I could have told you that.” 

“Then you should have asked a better question,” sniffed the demon. “Now it is my turn—”

“No,” Loriel interrupted. “No, it isn’t. I didn’t say I would answer any question you asked. I agreed that I would tell you something you did not know. You have just told me you do not know which way is northeast, so I will tell you—it is the direction of the corner where the empty pouch of lyrium powder lies. Here is my second question: what is the cure for the Blight?”

“Why—blood, of course.” The demon smiled with hidden teeth. “It is always in the blood. That was a dirty trick you played, Loriel Surana, but no dirtier than mine, so I will forgive you, this time. Here is the next thing that I do not know and that I would have you tell me.” The demon smiled wider, showing teeth. “What do you love most in all the world?”

“Well?” said the demon, when she had been silent too long. “Will you answer, Loriel Surana? Or will you let me go?”

“I will answer.” And she answered, truly: “Nothing. What I love most in all the world is nothing.”

“How interesting. Yes, very interesting...you are a pleasing little mageling. I think I like you after all. Well, Loriel Surana? It is your turn. Speak!”

“I’m thinking,” said Loriel, and finally settled on: “What concrete set of actions should I take next—immediately after ending this conversation—that, of all possible actions, would take me the further along my goal of discovering the cure for the Calling?”

Veritas grinned wider still, its face little more than teeth. “Take a man infected with the Blight, and find a way to take it out of him. A man, and not a rat. But why waste your time with me asking me that which you already know?”

Loriel exhaled through her nose. “Thank you, Veritas. You may go now.” 

The demon’s grin was all that remained of it as it disappeared back into the Fade, making no attempt at all to remain within the waking world. Loriel was alone, the floor littered with truths both new and old.

“Shit,” she muttered finally.

tck

It had been a mistake to summon the demon. She was no good at dealing with creatures of the Fade. When Loriel had been small and scared and helpless she’d had a silver tongue, been so adept and turning minds to her advantage using nothing but her words. Not it seemed she had forgotten entirely how to deal with a mind she could not break and twist and bend. 

All she had succeeded in doing was in giving an ancient, powerful demon tools to hurt her with, and what had she learned? Nothing she didn’t already know. Stupid. Careless. Idiot.

“Warden Pollard has begun to hear the Call.”

Loriel had been half-listening to Brigit’s report; now she startled to full attention, rattling her morning tea in its cup. “What?” Brigit repeated herself. “Warden Pollard...who is he?”

Warden Pollard was Orlesian. He had transferred from under Warden-Commander Clarel some years ago. He had served well, saved three of his comrades in a raid, and fought with a pike. He had been a Warden for only thirteen years. This was early, but not unheard-of.

“Where is he?”

“The chapel. He prays for his soul. He intends to visit his mother in Velun before heading to the Deep Roads.”

“I would like to speak with him in private.” She said it so quickly as to be unseemly. But Brigit only nodded and moved to acquiesce.

When her office door opened and Brigit admitted him, Loriel couldn’t help but think he didn’t look much like a dying man. Perhaps he was pale, perhaps a sheen of sweat stood out on his skin, but she didn’t know him. For all she knew, he always looked like that. 

Only when traces of discomfort began to appear on his face did Loriel realize she had been staring at him silently for far too long.

“Commander,” he said awkwardly, still with the traces of an Orlesian accent. He’d never met her before. Was he one of the ones not quite aware that she still lived, and still ruled? “I’m honored.”

“Do not be,” she said flatly. “How is it?”

How are you feeling might have been more appropriate. But it would have rung false. 

“Not so bad, yet. I knew it was coming. I accept it.” He paused. “Is there some manner of ceremony?”

Loriel had no idea. There probably was. She had never cared to find out, never cared to make sure that her wardens had a good sendoff. “If you wish it. But that is not why I wanted to speak with you. Can you get more specific?”

A flash of confusion.

“About how it is.”

Pollard looked even less comfortable. “I’ve had nightmares, ser.”

“Different from the usual?”

“Yes.” 

“Can you tell me more?”

“With respect, ser, I’d rather not.”

Her mouth set. “Please,” she said, and there was the power of blood in her voice, and not a trace of a request. “Tell me more.”

Pollard’s eyes went foggy and distant. When he spoke, he sounded oddly flat. “The nightmares were only the beginning. Now when I sleep, I hear the most beautiful voice. Like my mother calling me home. And when I awake, I want nothing more than to hear that voice again. I can hear it now, just barely. And a strange music in my ears.”

“What kind of music?”

“Bells. Like chantry bells, calling me to prayer. Ugly and beautiful at once.”

“Is it anything like lyrium song?”

His brow knit. “Yes. Not unlike lyrium song. But different. Richer and darker. I can almost pick out voices in it, but never what they say.”

She took out a notebook, her shorthand flying across the page. “What do you see? In the dreams?”

“Darkspawn. All gathered together in the biggest chamber I have ever seen. It’s dark, but I can see perfectly. They’re darkspawn, but they do not seem ugly. At the center sits a beautiful figure, bathed in gold, smiling. They welcome me home. I’m glad to be there.”

“When did this start?”

“Three weeks ago I first heard the voice in my dreams. 

“Any physical effects?”

“My skin is hot. The sun hurts my eyes, even on cloudy days.  I feel stronger now than I have ever been, even stronger than I was as a young man.”

“Anything else?”

“I hope not to be alive by the time there is anything else.”

Loriel finished transcribing. “One last thing. Come here. Roll up your sleeve; give me your arm.”

Pollard obeyed. He did not protest, did not react at all, when she took some of his blood. It glinted darkly in the glass vials she had fetched for this purpose, easily a few shades too dark. She stared at it for a few seconds. There was the Blight itself.

She took a few vials. Enough so he wouldn’t notice, later, and closed the wound she’d made with a clumsy burst of creation magic. The vials went into a wooden box inscribed with a rune of entropic suspension—blood spoiled so soon after it left the body.

Frustration overwhelmed her, that all she had was a few vials of blood and a brief coercive interview. Imagine all she might have learned if she could watch as he succumbed to the Taint, hear in his own words what was happening to him. He was going to die anyway—this way he might help save the lives of countless other Wardens, who could object to that? She could just—

No. Velanna had been wrong. She cared about the Wardens, of course she did, why else do all this? She would not subject an innocent man to such a fate. She was better than Avernus.

Pollard blinked as she released his mind, but if he was aware of the lost time he did not show it. She thanked him for his service and assured him that his family would be taken care of. He thanked her in turn, and departed as quickly as was seemly. She watched him go with only the smallest burst of dark regret.

[bluekaddis]

Beastember #7 Halla

The Halla reminds me of the European unicorn or East Asian kirin – graceful, intelligent, and mystical. The connection between halla and the Dalish is wonderful, there is this mutual respect and trust and the relationship benefits BOTH sides – oh I just love it! From biology pov, halla looks a lot like a ��normal” deer, except for maybe their intelligence and social behaviour (in DA:O it is implied that they are monogamous). I think both sexes have antlers, just like reindeer. Antlers are not horns – deer loose them every year and they grow a new pair for mating season. Actually, the antlers are probably the fastest growing bone in animal kingdom. That’s why I was confused by DA:O codex entry which said “Dalish halla keepers carve their antlers as they grow, making them curve into intricate designs” – as the antlers grow only for few months each year it would be difficult? On the other hand, the Dalish have good access to magic – maybe they can shape and carve the antlers to better match their needs? So when the antlers are finally shed, they are basically half-ready to become parts of tools, jewelry and weapons? I am not an expert of Dalish lore so if someone wish to add something or correct me, please do!

Headcanons:

1. We don’t really know how the animals had been like before creation of the veil. Did all of them had magic? Were they able to shape the reality around them? It is a great topic to think about, but now let’s just assume that animals lived and behaved more or less “normally”. Ghilan'nain is known as a Mother of halla – and I think she used to breed them, using magic, turning a common, spotted deer (like one presented on halla tarot card) into more intelligent and beautiful creatures, that were suited to be the mounts of her people. There had probably been many more creatures changed/created by Ghilan'nain but only the halla (and maybe harts, we’ll get to them next time) remained with the elves after the fall of Elvhenan. Though most of their magic was lost, halla retained their high intelligence and connection to the elves.

2. The scraps of Ghilan'nain knowledge, that got into the hands of Tevinter mages, were used to create the mabari.

3. The halla can well understand basic language and concepts like justice or pride. They will not, however, understand religion, writing or... sarcasm.