#the easier solution of course being having mages be free

[pupkinpumpkin]

Anytime I replay DAI and I get to that first conversation with Vivienne back at Haven, I take a long inhale Everytime she asks what I think about doing with the mages.

Like I know my Inky has not thought about this too much. She just knows her clan, but I think about it constantly and no answer I am offered is good enough to assuage my long rant that I yell at the computer for like 8 straight minutes before I choose the Mages Should Be Free line and get the inevitable Vivienne Greatly Disapproves

I love Vivienne a lot, I do, even with the differing political views, but Jesus Christ girlie pop never ask me that question again because I will go off Every Single Time

[jonthethinker]

After a long day of truly cursed thoughts, I’ve come to the determination that the Cerberus Assembly can act as a sort of Exandrian analog of our world’s Silicon Valley, and I hate it. I hate hate hate it.

The more I think about it, the more it just sort of melds into my mind as fact. I can’t escape it. This is where I live now.

You’ve got this collection of self-proclaimed super geniuses, unbounded by modern social mores and determined to invent a new sort of ethics, with an intent on shaping history and sagely guiding the world into a better future. This is despite the fact that most of the ideas they have inevitably end up making the world worse, and the only thing “new” that they really bring into the world is a bunch of actually very old ideas coated in fresh circuitry/magic.

But let’s dig a little deeper and start getting specific.

They both have these images of fiercely independent, creative bodies desperate to remain free from government control, and sometimes even as a check on that very government. The heads of the Cerberus Assembly outright say their intent is to act as a check on the Crown, and are known to have many secrets the Crown is, to their knowledge, totally unaware of.

Tech companies, particularly in America, have this outward facing very libertarian outlook on things, saying they don’t wish to interfere in the very important process of democracy and free speech, while simultaneously feeling it is their responsibility to fact check those in power and hold them to account, with their “serious vetting” of political ads and the like on their platforms. They also lobby heavily against any and all regulation of their various products and services, preferring to let the “invisible hand” of the market provide the service of keeping them in check, much as the Cerberus Assembly prefers to handle its own problems internally.

But when you really dig into the details this is all bullshit. The Cerberus Assembly, for all intents and purposes, IS the Empire. They run the secret police, for goodness sake. The two are so interconnected, and the Assembly as an institution is so dependent on the infrastructure and manpower, and of course money (because the fancy clothes, giant towers, and expensive sets of material components don’t pay for themselves) of the Empire to accomplish its goals, it can’t serve as a real check on Imperial forces possibly “overstepping”, and it also has no material interest in doing so; the more power and control the Empire has, the more power and control the Assembly has; the less freedom the citizens have due to authoritarian “safety” measures implemented by the Crown, the safer the Assembly itself becomes to pursue it’s morally dubious work and experimentation.

The same goes with Silicon Valley and the various tech companies that fall under its ethos. They will expound continually on the necessary freedom from government control they must have to truly change the world in the ways they think are best, but the primary source of money for most of these companies are governments. They either primarily contract with governments for most of their actual profits or to use its already established infrastructure, as is the case with Amazon, or depend heavily on publicly funded research for their innovations, which is everyone from Apple to Google to Microsoft and dozens and dozens of smaller companies besides. They then even get to patent these publicly funded innovations and hold a monopolized stranglehold on their use. This is not even to mention the starter capital necessary to form many of these companies in the first place itself was provided by governments, with the rather, shall we say “morally questionable” Kingdom of Saudi Arabia being among the top contributors to such start ups.

Even when either of these groups claim to be self-made, it’s all bullshit. So many of our famous tech overlords that supposedly built themselves from nothing started at the upper reaches of society, with more than enough capital and connections to insure they were never at any real risk of failing in the first place. Most even went to the same elite institutions of learning that provide the vast majority of the political leadership of the United States, institutions they had access to due to their wealth and familial connections, not their brains. Elon Musk’s family owned an emerald mine in Zambia for God’s sake, one his family would have never owned without the British Empire being a thing.

The same can be said for the Assembly. The upper classes of the Dwendalian Empire are lousy with mages and magic users. If they don’t have a place to climb among the nobility, they work for the Assembly, and hope to climb there. It shouldn’t surprise anyone that the only poorer mage recruits we know anything real about all were sucked up into the service of the Scourgers, one of the few arms of the Assembly known to regularly interact with societies lower reaches and not so positively at that, and had their familial identities obliterated in the process. Both of these groups are of the upper reaches of society and serve the upper reaches of society, and we should never think anything less.

And this brings us to the ideological framework both of these groups think with. They are both full to the brim with people who are individualists to the extreme. They all believe they are singular actors in the great tapestry of history, who got where they are by hard work and dedication, and anyone who isn’t there just didn’t do enough. The folks living in the tent city outside Zadash? lazy layabouts who simply have not applied their mind to be something greater, or perhaps their veins are just full of bad blood. Poor former factory workers in Detroit whose jobs have been moved to places where labor laws are weaker and wages are lower? If they’d only taken their education more seriously, they could be where I am! Or maybe they just never tried to be an Uber driver or delivering for Grubhub, because that’s how you really pull yourself out of poverty.

Meanwhile, most of the groups consist of people who have never once known real adversity and certainly not the hardship of poverty nor the lack of social and political power that position entails. They are blinded to the reality of most people in the world outside their rather small one, and thus have no understanding of the material hardship that most people experience during their everyday life.

You see this most clearer in the manner in which they try to solve what they see as societies great problems, with no clear thought put into the consequences of these particular solutions. In our world, this is particularly obvious. Uber is painted as an innovative means of transportation on a budget, when in reality it’s just a fleet of untrained, underpaid, non-unionized taxi drivers using their own personal vehicles at their own expense. Elon Musk is seen as this super genius when his solution to LA traffic wasn’t a more robust public transportation system or slowly reconstructing the city to be more pedestrian friendly, but instead to build a massive network of single car elevators under the city to zip cars to key hot spots faster in a manner people less anxious than me would still call risky at best. I mean most of these people think the key to ending poverty is teaching people to code or giving them STEM education, even when in a capitalist economy the only thing a sudden flooding of new coders and STEM educated folks would insure is that the jobs that require those skills will see a sudden massive drop in pay and benefits as the pool of prospective employees becomes over-saturated and individual workers no longer have any bargaining power to protect their once rare jobs. You already see this in animation and video game design, and you’ll certainly see it elsewhere.

For the Assembly, despite being praised as the brightest arcane minds of Wildmount, seem to get most of their ideas either by stealing them from others or digging them up out of the ground. But this is just the nature of empire; it’s always easier for an empire to consume than it is to create. So as little as they think of the Dynasty, they are eager to steal every little bit of knowledge they’ve discovered about Dunamis, and without the faith and moral sense the Luxon-based religion imposes, they will never be forced to put the use of this rare and dangerous magic into perspective. Imagine what harm they can cause with gravity and time magic when they don’t have that religious pressure to consider the value of life and choice. But this makes sense when their main sources of inspiration are the wizards of the Age Of Arcana; you know, the wizards whose hubris nearly destroyed the entire world and spurred an apocalyptic war that sent society into a dark age in which the gods themselves abandoned them? A+ inspiration material if you ask me.

Even the culture of these two groups in regards to how they regulate themselves is so eerily similar. Think of Delilah Briarwood. Member in good standing of the Cerberus Assembly. Also, worshipper of Vecna and talented necromancer. Only expelled from the Assembly after involvement from the Cobalt Soul, even when you know every other member of the Assembly almost certainly had loads of information on this lady.

It just makes me think of all the weird, right-wingers and Nazis who occasionally get expelled from the heights of Silicon Valley whenever some journalist exposes them, and how quickly their colleagues are to condemn them even when so many of them either knew this person was this way well before they were exposed or actively agreed with them and still do. I mean, think of how protected Bill Gates is, because of how much his philanthropist image has served to insulate and protect the gross consolidation of wealth and power in the hands of so few, even when his fortune was built on stolen ideas, military funding and research, and a hardcore software monopoly for well over a decade or two. Also, his philanthropy has done nothing to help African people build their own institutions of power independent of European and American influence, and have help distract us from the damage really caused to the entire continent by earlier colonialism and later capitalist imperialism.

This is to say as bad as our world is, I now definitely don’t want to live in Wildemount. I don’t want to live a world where Mark Zukerberg can cast Disintegrate. Not ideal. I guess I’ll just have to work that much harder to fix this one and not depend on learning Dunamancy to just put us on a different path. Bummer.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #79: Paracelsus van Hohenheim

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re making the Father of Toxicology, Paracelsus van Hohenheim! Hohenheim is known for his skill in potion- and homunculi-making, as well as his mastery of the four (five) elements! Also his weird qualifications for what does or does not count as a “medicinal” plant, but we won’t be adding that to the build.

Check out the full breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

Next up: What we all need is something steam powered / What we all need is a - Steam Powered Giraffe!

Race and Background

No points for guessing, but Paracelsus is a Human, giving him +1 to all ability scores. He’s also a Cloistered Scholar, for History and Arcana proficiency. You’re not mixing chemicals at random here, this is science. And magic.

Stats

Your Intelligence should be as high as you can make it, both because you’re a smart guy and because that what all our features are based on. Second highest is your Wisdom- you’re good at being a doctor, but medicine’s a wisdom check so we’ll have to be smart here too. Third is Dexterity- you don’t really use that sword too often, but you have one. Also, you’re wearing leather armor at best, and you don’t get mage armor. Your Constitution’s okay-you’re not really tough, just lucky. Your Strength isn’t very high, you are a caster after all. Finally, you’re dumping Charisma. You don’t cause much of a splash in London, and the only person you need to be able to lie to is a literal child, so it’s not that big of an issue.

Class Levels

1. This may shock you, but the famous alchemist is secretly an Artificer. They’re just coming out of the woodwork in London. First level artificers get proficiency in Constitution and Intelligence saves, as well as Medicine and Nature. You can heal people, and your Arcana comes from Nature, so that all checks out fine.

When you take up the class you learn Magical Tinkering, letting you add various minor effects to tiny items. You also get Spells, that’s right, Spells, that you can cast with your mind thoughts. Use your Intelligence to prepare and figure out their save DCs.

For your cantrips, Frostbite gives you a bit of water for your attacks, and Magic Stone does the same of earth. For some good 1st level spells to prepare, check Absorb Elements to charge your attacks and protect yourself at the same time, Catapult to fill an object with enough magical energy you can fling it around at people, and Grease. I know it’s called grease, but make it some ice to fit the elemental aesthetic we’re going for.

2. Second level artificers can Infuse Items, making and altering up to two magical items at a time. You learn four infusions though, and can swap them out on long rests. Like all casters, there’s plenty of leeway with what you take for spells and infusions, but I’d suggest Enhanced Defense for extra not dying on your part, an Alchemy Jug for raw materials (sometimes you have a hankering for 2 gallons of mayo),  Sending Stones for more earth-themed magic (the next time we get something for Earth is level 13, so enjoy this), and/or an Enhanced Arcane Focus to empower your spells.

3. When you hit third level, you pick your specialty, and let’s be honest here- of course you’re an Alchemist. At third level, you can create an Experimental Elixir at the end of a long rest that lasts until the next rest. Upon creation, you find out what its effects will be based on a roll of a d6. An elixir can heal, increase the drinker’s speed, give an AC bonus, give an attack and save bonus, grant the power of flight, or cast Alter self on the drinker. All benefits (except healing) last a varying amount of time. You can also make extra elixirs by spending a spell slot for each one as an action. You can also just wait a couple levels to make more on long rests.

You also learn how to make The Right Tool for the Job. Assuming you have an hour of free time and tinker’s tools available, you can craft a free set of artisan’s tools.

Finally, your specialty spells, which don’t count towards the number you can prepare, are Healing Word and Ray of Sickness. Throw the former at your party and the latter at your enemies, and make sure you don’t mix them up.

4. Use your first Ability Score Improvement for more Intelligence. That will net you more spells prepared, stronger spells, and plenty of other benefits later on.

5. Fifth level Alchemists are Alchemical Savants, adding their Intelligence modifier to one instance of spells that Heal or deal Acid, Fire, Necrotic, or Poison damage. That means everybody gets the amount you rolled, but one lucky person gets 4 extra.

You also learn how to prepare second level spells. Your specialty spells are Flaming Sphere for a bit of fire, and Melf’s Acid Arrow for... I guess this is void? Sure, why not. For other spells, Continual Flame and Enhance Ability are generic alchemical solutions, Heat Metal gives you more fire power, and Skywrite is a practical application of your air mastery.

6. Sixth level artificers gain Tool Expertise, doubling your proficiency bonus for any check involving tools. You also make a second Experimental Elixir at the end of each long rest.

You also also gain two more Infusions, and can keep a third up concurrently. The Homunculus Servant in D&D isn’t quite as intimidating as the ones in FGO, but it can be useful to deliver touch spells. Radiant Weapon also doesn’t have much use for you specifically, but it makes the Azoth Sword look really cool.

7. At seventh level, you begin to experience Flashes of Genius. When a check or save is made within 30′ of you, you can react to add your intelligence modifier to the roll. You can do this a number of times equal to your intelligence modifier per long rest.

8. Use your next ASI to become a Magic Initiate for a smattering of Wizard spells. These will round out your elemental cantrips and give you added flexibility with Gust and Fire Bolt, as well as Chromatic Orb. The two cantrips mean the full array of elements are always at your disposal, and the latter lets you attack with a variety of damage types, flavoring the orb to your preferred element. All three use your Intelligence to cast like artificer spells, and you can cast Chromatic Orb once per day for free, or with spell slots like any other spell.

9. Ninth level Alchemists use Restorative Reagents in their potions, and also learn third level spells. Any creature that drinks one of your elixirs gains some extra temporary HP when they do so. You can also cast Lesser Restoration without using a spell slot by using alchemist’s supplies. You can do this a number of times per long rest equal to your intelligence modifier.

Your specialty spells are Gaseous Form for more wind abilities and Mass Healing Word for stronger cure-alls. For spells you’ll need to prepare, Water Breathing and Water Walk turns your elemental skill over water into something more useful than just throwing it at enemies’ faces.

10. You become a Magic Item Adept, allowing you to attune to more items at once, as well as craft magic items with much less time and material cost. On top of that, you learn to cast Prestidigitation for more minor magical effects.

Finally, you learn two more Infusions, and can use one more at the same time. Enhanced Weapon should really go to someone else, but Boots of the Winding Path can be useful for anyone, yourself included.

11. At eleventh level, you can create Spell Storing Items. Once per long rest and one at a time, you can put a 1st or 2nd level artificer spell into a weapon or arcane focus. Any creature holding the item can cast the spell, using your intelligence and their concentration. The spell can be cast from the item a number of times equal to twice your intelligence modifier. 

12. Use this ASI to bump up your Dexterity for better swordplay and better not-dying.

13. Thirteenth level artificers get fourth level spells- Blight lets you literally suck the life out of creatures and mostly plants, and Death Ward does the exact opposite, keeping a creature alive the first time they’d die while enchanted. Mordenkainen’s Faithful Hound gives you a more attack-oriented servant, albeit one that’s invisible. Stone Shape and Stoneskin give you further control over the element of Earth. You can also pick up Elemental Bane to increase the power of several of your spells.

14. At this level, you become a Magic Item Savant, with the ability to attune a fifth magic item at once, and you can ignore all race, spell, class, and level requirements to use or attune to magic items.

You also get a new cantrip, as well as two new infusions learned and another concurrent infusion. Grab Create Bonfire for one last blast of fire, and then grab whatever two infusions you feel your party needs the most. Casters generally have a lot of leeway when it comes to building them, simply because of how varied “general magic specialty” can be.

15. Fifteenth level Alchemists can create a third free elixir, and learn Chemical Mastery. They resist acid and poison damage, and are immune to being poisoned. You can also cast Greater Restoration or Heal once per long rest for free, using your alchemist’s supplies.

16, Use this ASI to finally maximize your Intelligence for more and more powerful spells, stronger flashes of genius, and more free casts from Restorative Reagents.

17. With this level, you learn your highest level of artificer spells. You get Cloudkill as a specialty spell, helping you to create the Demonic Fog just a little bit easier. You can also Raise Dead as a specialty spell too; in Fate, death tends to be more permanent, but you could create zombies with pseudo-philosopher’s stones, so this is a straight upgrade for you.

For prepared spells, Animate Objects helps you bring larger homunculi and/or elementals to life, while Transmute Rock and Wall of Stone gives you more impressive earthbending powers. Finally, Creation will help you make items out of the void, lasting anywhere between 1 day and 1 minute. You can’t use this to create spell components though, so you’ll have to find the real philosopher’s stone the hard way.

18. You become a Magic Item Master, with the ability to attune six magic items at once. You also get one last round of infusions, bringing your total number of infusions learned to 12, and your total number available at one time to six. Again, take what you want at this point, you know what your party needs.

19. Use one last ASI to improve your Constitution and Wisdom for better health and medicine checks.

20. The artificer capstone is a Soul of Artifice. You gain +1 to all saves for each magic item you’re attuned to, and you can use a reaction when dropped to 0 hp to remain at 1 hp instead by ending one artificer infusion.

Pros

You’re a strong support caster, with healing, buffs, and magic items for the whole party. You still have plenty of ways to deal damage too, so you’re not doomed if the party splits up.

Soul of Artifice gives you extremely strong saves at level 20. Having a +5 on your worst save is still pretty good, especially since you’ll need good constitution saves for concentration spells.

You can deal a wide variety of damage through your spells. If an enemy resists one type of damage, that’s fine. Even ignoring Chromatic Orb, you’ve got poison, cold, fire, acid, necrotic, piercing, and bludgeoning damage to mix things up. And that’s not even going into what you can get done with Element Bane or elemental weaknesses.

Cons

Your AC is very low for someone with d8s for hit dice. Technically you can get away with medium armor, but the in-character choice would be leather, or even better, no armor at all. Try to stay out of the thick of things.

You also have very low charisma, so you might have trouble convincing people to take your medicine. You might also get shoved into another plane like you’re back in high school.

While you can deal a lot of different damage types, you mostly focus on Fire and Poison, two of the most resisted types in the game. You’ve got plenty of other options, but those are your specialties.

[bluerose5]

The Precipice of Change: Chapter 2

Rated: T

Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition

Word Count: 3,961

Tags: Male Mage Hawke, Hawke as Inquisitor, DAI Inner Circle, Purple/Flirty Hawke, Canon-Typical Violence, past Male Hawke/Fenris, Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence, Blood & Injury

Summary: The story of Dragon Age: Inquisition, as told if Garrett Hawke were to become the Inquisitor instead.

There's nothing like being the Chosen One for a god that you don't really believe in, fighting to save a world that wants you dead eight out of the seven days of the week. But Hawke makes do. He always does.

Chapter 2:

The elven apostate could definitely give Cassandra a run for her money in terms of their supposed stoicism, so Hawke considered the slight quirk to his lips to be some kind of unspoken success. It was only a brief flash, however, there and gone before Hawke could even be certain that he saw it.

“An understandable reaction,” the stranger said, mostly referring to Varric’s response. “All things considered.”

Or perhaps he was referring to how Hawke dragged him down into the snow with him. Regardless, Hawke smirked at him through the pain, clenching and relaxing his hand in a rhythmic motion.

“Nothing like having such a handsome, mysterious stranger swoop in and bury you in cold, mushy snow to help us get acquainted, am I right?” Hawke joked, getting slowly to his feet.

When he held his hand out, Solas took it. Hawke helped him up, both of them brushing themselves off while they spoke.

“That is one way of putting it.” Solas regarded him cautiously, leaning his weight onto his staff. “Although, I would think that the end of the world would be a much more effective bonding experience, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oho!” Varric crowed, grinning widely. “Was that a joke, Chuckles? Someone alert the Chantry.”

“Or in our case, don’t,” Hawke interrupted. “Turns out, it’s not good for an apostate’s health when the Chantry gets involved.”

“Surprise of all surprises,” Solas muttered.

Continue Reading Under the Cut...

Cassandra took the opportunity to get things back on track, pointedly clearing her throat. The three men before her turned towards her with sheepish expressions, caught up in their banter as they were.

“If you three are quite done, we must return to the task at hand,” she said, narrowing her eyes at them. “It’s not as if the fate of the world depends on us or anything.”

“Heh.” Hawke chuckled. “Could you imagine? Besides, I would say it depends more on the mark than anything else.”

“And you are the one that wields the mark,” Solas stated. “Therefore, it would only be logical to conclude that the fate of the world depends on you and your actions.” He paused, once again regarding Hawke with that inscrutable gaze. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

“Or our destruction,” Hawke said, quick to backtrack when Cassandra glared at him. He held his hands up in surrender, and even took a step back for good measure, bumping into Varric. “I’m just saying, usually when I try to do good and act heroic, things tend to worsen and fall apart.”

“Can’t argue with you there,” Varric said, earning a pout from Hawke. “What?!”

Before they could dissolve into further bickering, Cassandra started shoving them all forward, herding them along in the direction of the Breach.

On their way, Solas decided to engage Hawke in conversation once more, curious about this infamous Champion.

“Apologies. I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself. My name is Solas.”

Hawke nodded at him in greeting. “Garrett Hawke, but most people call me Hawke. Like a nickname, or a title, I suppose.”

Or a little bit of both.

Solas smiled, his staff tapping softly through snow and ice alike.

“You are an apostate.” A statement, not a question.

“Yep,” Hawke answered, popping the ‘p.’ “And you are as well.”

“Hmm… and how can you tell?”

“The way you cast.” The “duh” was implied there in Hawke’s tone. “I would wager that you’ve never even been in a Circle. Lifelong apostates, even those that have remained hidden for quite some time, seem to have this raw, powerful style that looks as easy as breathing. Compared to that, Circle mages, even the former ones, seem to be more stilted and awkward with their forms. At least, in my opinion.” His smirk grew bitter. “The difference between embracing your power and trying to control and leash it, I assume. Or perhaps I am reading too much into it.”

Solas looked shocked by such an analysis, if anything. Meanwhile, Varric zoned out at the first hint of any magic-y talk, and Cassandra scowled throughout the whole ordeal, her eyes darting back and forth between the mages with a furrowed brow. As if they were part of some big, bad conspiracy.

Gotta love the distrust.

“I wouldn’t say you’re reading too much into it at all. That’s actually a rather perceptive take on it.”

“More than you were expecting, you mean,” Garrett said, taking some satisfaction in watching a bit of guilt mix in with his expression.

Solas shrugged, and Hawke knew that was probably all that he was going to get in terms of an apology.

“It’s a moot point anyways. At this time, all mages are considered apostates.”

“True enough.”

Their conversation continued on, Hawke glad for any distraction that didn’t leave him ruminating over the pain in his hand for too long. They met several more groups of demons on their way, but they were noticeably quicker in dispatching them with four of them instead of two. Unfortunately, Hawke still had to stop every so often when the mark’s flaring threatened to tear him apart, eventually causing the veins in his arm to grow a menacing green. Like little spiderwebs, the light spread until it reached all the way up to his shoulder, Hawke’s eyes wide when he realized just how far the mark stretched in so little time.

When the others took notice, Solas grabbed him by his good arm, practically dragging him along.

Hawke had to admit, for both an elf and a mage, he was pretty strong.

“My magic will not be able to keep the mark under control for much longer. We must hurry,” Solas told him.

It was his frantic tone that made Varric rush to their side, eyeing the mark in concern.

“Be honest, Chuckles, worst case scenario…” Varric said, trailing off so that he could fill in the blanks.

Solas grimaced.

“Do you really want the answer to that question?”

Hawke and Varric exchanged a glance.

“No,” Varric sighed. “I guess not.”

Ah, so it seemed as if Cassandra wasn’t exaggerating about Hawke’s imminent death.

Why can’t anything about Hawke’s life be normal for once?

“So…” Hawke drawled, unable to stand all of this doom and gloom. “Solas, you seem to know a lot about the mark.”

After Solas and Varric explained how the elf stopped the mark from killing him, they encountered one last rift before finally —finally— entering the forward camp. An argument could be heard from the gates, Leliana and some Chancellor engaged in a heated dispute once they arrived. To be honest, Hawke stopped listening as soon as the Chancellor threatened to throw him in chains, everyone going back and forth while he remained silently focused on the sky. It was impossible not to look at, that wide, yawning maw always in the corner of his periphery no matter where he looked. It swirled threateningly, growing larger and larger with each pulse of light.

How could anyone fix something like that?

It took Hawke a few moments to realize that everyone had grown silent, staring impatiently at him. He blinked owlishly at the sudden attention, wondering what in the world did he miss.

“What?” he asked, shuffling from foot to foot. “Do I have something in my teeth?”

Ignoring Varric’s snicker behind him, Hawke dug his tongue into the crevices between his teeth, causing the Chancellor to scowl.

“You honestly think he is our savior?” Roderick snapped, addressing Cassandra instead of speaking directly to Hawke.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Hawke stated, his expression serious yet innocent, despite the fact that he was anything but. “Were you saying something just now? From my experience with Chantry Brothers, I find it way easier to filter out all of their ramblings and simply nod along here and there. Nothing personal, mind you.”

Chancellor Roderick sputtered indignantly, but Cassandra stepped in before the situation could escalate.

“We were saying that we needed to decide on a way to get to the temple.”

Hawke raised an eyebrow at them. “And you were waiting on me, because…?”

“You have the mark,” Solas noted.

“And you are the one we must protect,” Cassandra added. “Since we cannot decide amongst ourselves…”

Oh, great. They wanted him to lead, because of course they did. Now they were starting to sound like Anders.

How many times must Hawke tell people that he was not leadership material before they would believe him?

Ugh, well, if he must.

After they recounted his options again —the whole “should we charge or use the mountain path” debate— he simply stated what he thought was the most obvious solution.

“Why not just split up and meet back up at the temple?”

They stared at him blankly, making him wonder if he really did have something in his teeth this time.

“Explain,” Cassandra ordered.

How could he even think of refusing when she asked so nicely?

“I’m just saying that a small group could go investigate what happened with the missing scouts, and the rest of us could charge on ahead. That way, we hopefully save as many people as possible, and we get me to the temple. Easy as pie,” Hawke explained.

“As idealistic as that may be,” Cassandra started, “the whole point of this plan is to get you to the temple, not to rescue everyone. We should spare no resources in getting you ther—”

Hawke interrupted then.

“You asked for my opinion, and I gave it. If you don’t like it, then please feel free to waste more time we don’t have by trying to decide amongst yourselves.”

Of course, he kind of did waste some precious time himself by not listening before, but that’s not the point.

After considering it, Cassandra and the others agreed, despite Chancellor Roderick’s vehement protests.

Hawke may or may not have stuck his tongue out at him when they passed.

Splitting into two groups, the majority of the soldiers went with Leliana and Hawke in the charge forward. While they used the more direct approach, Cassandra, Varric, Solas, and a few others were going to be traveling indirectly through the mountain path. Both routes would eventually converge, and they would wait for one another at the Temple of Sacred Ashes before advancing in their final push. In a realistic world, losses were to be expected, but Garrett knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep soundly at night if he didn’t at least try for the optimal outcome.

If he could even sleep at all, what with a deadly mark upon his hand that’s constantly trying to kill him.

As each group set out, Hawke forced himself to focus back on the here and now, using magic and his sword alike to lash out at the demons before them. The soldiers weren’t the most seasoned or experienced warriors out there, but they were enough to keep the corrupted spirits at bay. One wave after another, they fought, and eventually they happened upon another rift.

In the middle of this chaos, the last person that Hawke had expected to encounter was Cullen Rutherford.

Huh, turns out it really is a small world after all.

There was a tense, awkward moment that followed when their eyes met, but it wasn’t anything like what one would hear in the stories. The world didn’t fade away around them. Time didn’t stop or slow to a standstill to allow them that one instance of recognition and animosity. Instead, the battle raged on, and the demons’ shrieks still tainted the air alongside the soldiers’ frantic yelling.

Turns out, the end of the world had a way of uniting even the most unlikely of allies.

When Hawke spotted a terror demon behind him, he didn’t hesitate. He couldn’t hesitate, lest he sentence the man to death right then and there. The air prickled with the smell of ozone, his hairs standing on end as goosebumps spread across his skin like a wildfire. A charged bolt of lightning shot through the demon, causing it to writhe and convulse until it burst open in a shower of blackened goo. Cullen tensed at the feeling of magic arcing past him, enough to avoid him entirely yet still too close for comfort. He refused to succumb to his discomfort, though, focusing instead on the fight at hand.

“Duck!” Cullen barked out, Hawke instantly dropping low enough for his sword to slash out at an approaching shade.

Turning on the demon, Hawke joined Cullen in his attack, running the damn thing through with his blade. Unfortunately, that only served to close the distance between Hawke and the shade, the demon lashing out with wickedly sharp claws. It managed to get in one good swipe at Hawke’s arm, bright red blood soon flowing freely.

Hawke released his grip on the sword and scurried backwards. That gave Cullen an opening to step in, decapitating it in one fell swoop.

With gritted teeth, Hawke decided that he had enough of this shit for one day, lifting up his hand to seal the rift as before. Weakened as they were by the sudden disconnect, the rest of the demons were soon defeated by the remaining soldiers. Leliana regrouped with Hawke and Cullen in the aftermath, helping to support Hawke’s weight.

Garrett managed a strained smile, holding his now-bleeding arm close to his chest.

“Anyone have a lyrium potion by chance?” When silence answered him, the former Champion gave a weary sigh. “Of course not.”

“Here, ser!” One brave soul rushed forward, digging around in their bag as they approached. The bandages they eventually pulled out weren’t the cleanest by any means, nor was the healing potion they provided the best quality; however, Hawke knew better than to complain. Beggars can’t be choosers after all, and many others out there needed the supplies just as much, if not more than him, so Hawke simply accepted the items with a mumbled “thanks.”

After he forced down the potion, he made quick work of wrapping his wounds, eyeing Cullen as he fixed himself up.

“You know, Knight-Captain—”

“Former Knight-Captain,” Cullen corrected, already exhausted by the conversation at hand.

“Right… So, former Knight-Captain, didn’t expect to see you again.”

“Nor I you, Champion.”

“Former Champion,” Hawke mocked.

“Right. Apologies.” Cullen nodded at him stiffly, turning to include Leliana, who was watching the two of them in utter amusement. “Sister Nightingale, it’s good to see you in one piece.”

“And you as well, Commander,” she stated. “There have been many losses, but there would have been undoubtedly many more without the Champion and his mark.”

Cullen glanced down at Hawke’s glowing hand, his gaze quickly darting away when Hawke caught him staring.

“I assume that this was the missing piece we needed to close the rifts then.”

“And you would be assuming correctly,” Hawke said. “You would think that, after watching lyrium bring statues to life, I would be used to all of this strange shit happening to me.”

Cullen gave a sharp laugh at that, bleak and bitter. “And yet the world keeps surprising us.” He cleared his throat then, more so to cover up his sudden outburst. “I hope they’re right about your mark, though. Everything is riding on this.” No pressure. “The path ahead should be clear when you’re ready to head out. Hopefully, Lady Cassandra and the others will be awaiting your arrival.”

“We’ll depart now then,” Leliana told him, assisting Hawke in the direction of the Breach. “Give us time, Commander.”

“Maker watch over you,” Cullen muttered, and it took Hawke a full minute to realize that he was talking to him. “For all our sakes.”

Before Hawke could retort, they separated, Cullen and the soldiers heading out to set up a defensible position while Leliana shuffled them forward.

Once they made it to the temple, Hawke’s heart immediately sank into his stomach. Even Leliana could not hold back her reaction as they surveyed the damage, her voice a soft, broken whisper that was easily overtaken by the winds.

“Oh—Oh no…” she gasped, her eyes glazed over as she regarded one of the statue-like corpses nearby.

It was as if they were frozen in time, some of the bodies still burning as they tried to escape the blast.

And beyond that, the rest of the dead were unrecognizable, stripped of their flesh until nothing more than their bones laid covered in dust and ash.

Even Hawke didn’t have something witty to say at such a moment, all life drained from the surrounding area.

It was right then that they heard shuffling nearby, Hawke and Leliana rounding on the spot, poised to attack. They both breathed a collective sigh of relief when they spotted the others, Cassandra leading the remaining scouts to safety. When they regrouped, she recounted what had occurred on their journey there. Apparently, they had encountered a rift on their path as well. Some scouts had already perished by the time they arrived, but the rest had managed to hold out for just long enough. With their combined forces, they had slain enough demons to buy them some time between waves to beat a hasty retreat. A couple of the others succumbed to their injuries on the way to the temple, but the losses were still less than originally anticipated.

If anything, Garrett considered that a success, no matter how small.

After this whole shitshow, he had to claim his victories when he could.

Now that everyone was together again, they traveled forward in a solemn silence, the crackle of flames and the roar of the Breach the only sounds to accompany them.

While Leliana and Cassandra were busy giving orders to their people, Hawke surveyed the area around them. Varric made the occasional comment or two about the Breach, and Solas eventually interrupted all of them to explain how they could possibly close it. Something about closing the first rift that it created, or that was the theory, anyways. It was at least better than anything else they could think of, though, so it was worth a try. Best case scenario, the Breach would be sealed.

Then again, the worst case scenario was that Hawke would end up making an already catastrophic problem even worse, and then the whole fabric of the Veil would split open, causing the end of all life as they know it.

Oh, and he dies! That would be bad, too.

Why did he volunteer for this again?

Either way, he knew now as Cassandra escorted him through the ruins that he had missed his opportunity for escape. Any chance he had was long gone by now, so he might as well ride this out to the end.

“Now is the hour of our victory.”

Hawke stumbled in shock, Cassandra lunging forward to keep him from falling.

No, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t. Hawke was surely going insane, that’s all.

“Bring forth the sacrifice.”

It had to be an illusion of the Fade. It had to be.

“What are we hearing?” Cassandra asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

“At a guess, the one who created the Breach,” Solas replied.

Okay, but if it was that Maker-forsaken magister, then surely Varric would recognize—

However, when Hawke glanced over at Varric for backup, the dwarf was preoccupied with another matter entirely, eyes wide and jaw slack. Hawke followed his gaze, only to shudder in revulsion. Without thinking, he shuffled closer into Cassandra’s side, trying to get as far away from the foul stuff as possible.

Red lyrium.

For fuck’s sake, this day was apparently the gift that kept on giving!

That voice forgotten for the moment, Varric followed Hawke’s lead and shifted away from the lyrium as much as he could, their teeth rattling at the discordant song that flowed through the air.

“You know that stuff is red lyrium, Seeker.”

She pursed her lips, but refused to be distracted from the task at hand.

“I see it, Varric.”

“But what’s it doing here?”

“Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temp—”

Hawke didn’t even listen to the rest of Solas’s explanation, distracted by another voice entirely.

“Keep the sacrifice still.”

It was like it all came crashing down on him at once, a dam bursting open after years upon years of cracks splintering its foundations. Adrenaline surged through Hawke’s veins, giving him the strength and energy needed to slip free of Cassandra’s grasp. He took off into a run, not even stopping when the others called out. All he could focus on was that voice and that voice alone —that stupid, blight-infested voice. It made his skin crawl even now, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. It shouldn’t be possible, but there was no mistaking it. He should be dead. Hawke had killed him, yet there he was.

That voice was one of many that haunted his dreams. Hawke would know it anywhere.

“I thank you for my freedom.”

Larius. Larius wasn’t the same. He changed. He said it was because he was free of Corypheus’s influence, but no. Something never sat right with Hawke about that. He was too clear-headed for a man beyond his Calling. Too composed for someone that had been long overtaken by the Blight’s corruption.

Garrett didn’t get a chance to think any deeper about it. The second he dropped down towards the rift, they were all engulfed in a vision of the past. The Divine had called out to him, and when Garrett had burst into the room to save the day, Corypheus had ordered someone to “slay the Hawke.” No other information was given, and Hawke’s memories of the encounter still refused to return.

By the time the vision faded, Hawke’s head was spinning, and his stomach was churning. Cassandra demanded answers of him, but he couldn’t give them at the moment, those black and white dots returning to cloud his vision with a vengeance. Dazed and disoriented, Hawke had to force himself to piece together each word when Solas spoke up, addressing the need to open the rift in order to seal it properly. Hawke remembered nodding distantly, but the elven mage had to step in as he did before, his hand warm against Hawke’s as he guided the mark’s magic through the motions.

Of course, opening the rift just had to summon a pride demon, of all things. It couldn’t be something nice and small and easy to contend with, like a wraith.

Or a nug.

Oh, no, that would be too easy to defeat! The universe liked a challenge!

Well, screw the universe. How about that?

If Hawke were a religious man, he would have thought it to be divine punishment, since —at that exact moment— a damn shade spawned behind him and raked its claws down his back. One blast of fire to its face was enough to melt its ugly mug, but the damage had been done.

Red ribbons of blood trailed over his skin, hot and wet. They didn’t drip down into tiny, delicate droplets either. Rather, they stained the ground red in free flowing streams.

Pain radiated all around Hawke until he didn’t know which way was up or down, left or right…

All he could see was green.

But he couldn’t stop. It couldn’t end there.

With his hand outstretched towards the brightest patch of green, he managed to disrupt the rift in time, stunning the demons long enough for the killing blows to be made.

He heard her voice through the fog clouding his mind, unable to recall her name at the moment.

“Now!” the warrior yelled. “Seal the rift!”

The last thing Hawke remembered before he lost consciousness was an unbearable pain shooting up his arm, and then everything went dark.

[aurorapillar]

Title: though we don't share the same blood   Fandom: Trash of the Counts Family Characters: Alberu Crossman

Cale Henituse was a very annoying person, and that was Crown Prince Alberu’s honest opinion; the man in question was disrespectful, rude, a near-constant headache and a troublemaker. But he was also one of the people who Alberu trusted most in the world, and despite his flaws and faults, Cale had never let him down.

He’d not only completed any job that had been set for him, even if it wasn’t always in the manner that Alberu would have preferred, Cale had also managed to accomplish numerous other tasks that had not been requested of him. From making it possible for the Roan Kingdom to obtain the surviving Whipper Kingdom mages, to helping in the creation of the navy, to getting his hands on high-grade magic stones which he’d proceeded to sell to the crown; the list of things he’d done which benefited their country continued to grow. That combined with the blood Cale had bled in defense of the nation and the fact that he’d kept the secret of his heritage, made it impossible for Alberu not to trust him.

When it came down to it he and Cale were similar; both of them were capable of and willing to manipulate and use others without feeling much guilt after the fact. Normally, Alberu would do his best to avoid interactions with a such a person due to the danger that came with it; words and deeds could be a weapon just as much as a spell or sword could, and when going up against someone equally skilled at using them it was all too easy to lose track of whether you were winning or losing. And Prince Alberu was not someone who could afford to lose.

However there was another similarity between the two of them that had convinced Alberu to use Cale as an asset rather than avoid him, and that was the fact that both of them worked towards the greater good. When the situation called for it they both set aside their selfish desires and focused on using their cunning to bring about a solution that benefited the kingdom, putting their skills to work in order to achieve the best outcome.

Of course, that didn’t mean they wouldn't take advantage of any opportunities that came along in the meanwhile, neither of them were saints after all, despite what so many people in both the Roan Kingdom and other lands thought about Cale. It was quite amusing really, the inaccurate impression so many people had of 'young master silver shield'; to them, he was a paragon of virtue, a true hero that wanted nothing more than to protect and help other people.

To be fair they were correct in some ways, no matter how much he grumbled and showed distaste towards such a title, Cale was a hero; his role as such had already been written in history using the blood that he'd bled as ink. That didn't change the fact however, that he was also a greedy and conniving punk.

What would the citizens think, Alberu couldn't help but wonder at times, if they knew some of the things that troublemaker had done? He himself was well aware that he didn't know the full extent of things Cale had gotten up to, the paths that had been taken to reach certain outcomes, but the things he did know and the things he could suppose by reading in between the lines at times astounded him. He'd played the Whipper Kingdom like a fiddle, obtaining their mages and magic devices for the Roan Kingdom while at the same time earning their trust and friendship; he'd convinced the Queen of the Jungle somehow that he was a pure and gentle man; he'd earned the love of the Empire's citizens while stealing it's treasures and then turned around and helped cause a revolution. And then there was whatever he'd been doing on the Eastern Continent that had gotten him entangled with the Mercenary King; quite frankly Alberu wasn’t sure he wanted to know any details about that, he had a feeling it would only cause him more stress. Yet despite all that, hardly anyone knew what he was really like, the majority still saw him as a pure and naive being.

Alberu had heard the whispers among many of the nobles, they had a tendency to think they were a lot more subtle than they truly were and that he had a lot fewer ways to find things out then he really did; so many of them bemoaned the fate of Cale Henituse, the poor hero who was being yanked around and manipulated by the Crown Prince and his glib tongue. The storyline they had created in their heads couldn't have been farther from the truth of course, and there had been many days Alberu had found himself indulging in some rather unprincelike laughter after listening to it.

Such whispers had only increased of course after he and Cale had become sworn brothers, people saw such an action as Alberu’s way of tying Cale to him so as not to lose a valuable tool. They were partially right however, becoming sworn brothers had been a way to tie him and Cale together, but it had not been for the reasons they believed.

Though he had two younger half brothers, the fight for favor and the throne had meant that he'd never gotten the chance to be close to them; doing so was far too risky, even without taking into account the added danger of having to keep his heritage a secret. There was a part of him that had always longed for that missed opportunity though, for the chance to be an older sibling with someone younger to care for and dote on, and with Cale that opportunity had come back around.

It hadn't been something he'd even considered when they'd first started working together, back then Cale had been nothing more than a necessary annoyance needed to reach his goals, but over time that had changed. It had started with Cale discovering his heritage, something that Alberu still wasn’t sure how he’d done, and yet keeping quiet about it despite what he could gain by running off to tattle to one of the other princes. Such information in the wrong hands would have guaranteed that he was knocked from his place as Crown Prince, possibly even gotten him killed as well, and earned Cale plenty of favor from the other princes and their factions; but it had been Alberu himself that he’d come to directly, and he’d even brought a gift of dead dragons mana along.

It had been rather infuriating really, Cale hadn’t even tried to blackmail him; not that he wanted to be blackmailed mind you, but at least with blackmail it was easier to tell where the other person stood. While he’d said he wasn’t keeping his mouth shut for free, there had been no threat accompanying his request, though Alberu wasn’t so naive as to think that necessarily meant he wouldn’t have done something if he’d refused. Still it had felt more like a deal between partners than extortion, and from that point on Alberu had found himself viewing Cale as an ally of equal standing rather than just someone to be used. He wasn’t quite sure when simply viewing him as an ally had turned to also worrying and caring about him, perhaps it been after their time in the Empire when he watched Cale struggle to hold up the tower and then turn around and question about the welfare of others despite his own health issues; it was hard for him to say for sure though. He could clearly remember however the way his heart had been pounding during the attack on the Henituse territory as he watched black blood drip from Cale’s eyes, nose and mouth over the video communication device; there had been more blood coming out of him than any of the previous times he’d seen the man use his shield, and it had taken great willpower to keep his voice calm as he’d reminded both Basen Henituse and himself to not forget their task.

He’d had to use that willpower again later that same day to remain calm while talking to Cale, who while still covered in blood and looking exhausted, had expressed his intent to head to the Ubarr territory that night. At the time he’d been worried that Cale was pushing himself too hard, but had figured that he was smart enough to not go past his limits and neglect his health too much; of course later he’d realized how wrong he was, Cale Henituse was a truly brilliant and talented person, but he was also a stubborn idiot.

It was like all of the man’s intelligence flew out the door when it came to the matter of his own welfare, and the worst part was that Cale didn’t even seem to realize his own recklessness or how much he worried other people, anytime that anyone tried to express their concerns he always seemed to have a confused expression on his face like he didn’t understand what they were making such a fuss about. Honestly, sometimes Alberu found himself wondering if he’d one day cancel the illusion hiding his true appearance only to find his hair had turned gray from the stress that Cale’s recklessness caused him. What a troublesome younger brother.

It had been a surprise when he'd suddenly realized that that was what he considered Cale to be, his little brother. Following the end of the battle at Maple Castle, Alberu had found himself contacted by Rosalyn, who had filled him on the events that had taken place before heading off to the Jungle with Choi Han; their conversation had brought up many concerns, not the least of which was the re-emergence of black magic and Cale’s current unconscious state.

Of course, Cale being Cale with his apparent allergy to properly resting and recovering, had awoken after only three hours; and while he'd looked pale when Alberu had spoken to him over the video communication device, he'd also seemed ready and willing to get back out into the field. Truth be told, Alberu would have likely to forbid him from doing so, but he'd known they needed Cale out there and as the future king of their country he couldn’t sacrifice their chance at victory because of personal sentiment.

Not that he was sure Cale would have listened to him even if he had forbidden it. Despite Cale having proclaimed that his future goal was to be a slacker during their conversation that day, based on past experiences Alberu had a strong feeling that Cale was the type of person who would end up getting involved even when they didn't want to.

He'd known of course that Cale’s friends would do their best to keep an eye on him and keep him safe, but that didn't stop him from worrying, and so he decided to take advantage of something he needed to do anyway and tagged along with his aunt and the other dark elves who were headed to the Jungle. The main reason for going with them was to see the battlefield and the golems for himself, there were quite possibly very dark times coming and as a leader, he'd needed to understand the things his men would have to have to experience. And if it also happened to give him the chance to check on Cale in person, well nobody but himself needed to know that had been part of his plan.

Originally he hadn't actually been planning to tease Cale, but the shocked expression on his face at the sight of him had been too entertaining to resist, and the words 'little brother' had just slipped out. there had been no falsehood in those words though, because that was exactly what Cale Henituse had become to him over the course of the two years they'd known each other.

When the end of the war had finally come around it had only seemed natural to offer up the idea of becoming sworn brothers as a method of keeping get the hounds at bay, and it had been accepted. He didn't really know if Cale actually saw him as an older brother or if he was just playing along, but the title of 'hyung' slipped easily enough from the other man's lips and for the time being that was enough.

Cale Henituse was still an annoying, disrespectful and greedy headache; but he was his annoying, disrespectful, greedy headache of a younger brother.

[aerial-jace]

matues13

Ooo, I’m interested in those opinions! 

(In reference to this post: https://jaceladag.tumblr.com/post/615417288880013312/i-wish-tabletop-rpgs-were-much-more-popular-than)

As you wish! I’m always open to talking about my new obsessions! Post may get a bit long so I’ll hide it under a cut.

Now, when I first looked into branching out from non-DnD RPGs, I first looked to stuff like the Fate system quite simply because I’m bad with game mechanics and such and I thought less rules=I like it more. Why on earth would my actual first experience outside DnD be Ars Magica though? The game known for being super crunchy, like engineer levels crunchy? Simply put, the premise hooked me right away. Medieval history and wizards are like my top 2 interests, so I thought it’d be worth it to check it out and boy did I do an amazing decision. Character creation alone kept me endlessly entertained and to be honest Ars just has a *lot* of rules to keep track of but the math isn’t particularly complicated and most of the math-ey things can be sorted out off-session.

I also appreciated a lot of things that set apart Ars from the standard TTRPG formula, stuff that with the major exception of the magic system Fate shares to an extent admittedly, but still:

Lessened focus on combat, with the option to not engage in it at all as well as not needing to use grids or worrying about terrain and stuff. As someone who showed some interest in DMing but ultimately found himself not having much fun designing combat encounters this is a big one for me. It’ll likely take a while before I find the time (and people) to run a game myself but the prospect still excites me!

Less level up style progression down a path more of a picking up skills as you guide your character through their storyline style of play. I find it easier to design my character with the ideas I have in mind with the buying of skills with exp model of progression than juggling classes and remembering spell lists and levels at which important features come into play, and what classes synergize together for multi-classing and all the other options which can honestly get kinda overwhelming. Ars still has the free house virtues and the Virtue/Flaw system in general but not trying it to level progression just makes it simpler in my mind.

Minimal inventory management is a godsend. Just keeping track of weapons and other special items such as vis is so much easier and less boring than keeping track of every. single. ration, foot of rope, matches, etc. It sometimes really shows how DnD’s core was designed to be dungeon crawls and how the mechanics were designed squarely around that.

And of course, no talk of Ars is ever complete without gushing about the magic system. It really does hit that sweet spot between very explicitly laid out rules that allow anyone to make their own spells and being free-form. I also adore that I no longer have to keep track of frankly annoying mechanics of DnD such as keeping your prepared list handy or being limited in your spell slots. Of course, this is mostly because Ars is not about balance, it’s about recreating medieval stories and mages HAVE to be more powerful to really give that feel. But it’s still nice to have a game that works like that.

As much as my boyfriend complains about it whenever I tell him about it (he doesn’t play Ars, he’s a through and through DnD purist), I also feel like the trope-style play concept is not only a clever solution to the balance problem inherent in not making all options completely balanced, it also kind of solves one of the big TTRPG problems, the “I have more characters than I’ll ever get a chance to play” problem. Of course you still can’t churn out a new character a week and expect to play them all, but having like 2 or 3 at the same time is still nice.

Of course the game still isn’t perfect. I for one find the covenant management, and the economics of it most of all really, extremely uninteresting and would rather do away with it. Also, I feel like in some places some rules really are superfluous but what you gonna do. The community is in a constant state of push and pull between math-oriented and story-oriented types and all, at least from what I’ve heard and seen on the Atlas Games forums.

I think that’s it for opinions on Ars in general, but if anyone’s interested, I’m up for answering asks about it or rambling more! Thanks for showing interest <3

[aeducanwrites]

In response to the  @dapromptexchange prompt, also found here on AO3:

“With the mark comes increasingly severe chronic pain - pain like the Inquisitor has never experienced. They keep it under wraps, though, not wanting to appear weak or have anyone pity them. But some days are worse than others and their intake of potions made by the healers plus their own herbal remedies and even alcohol are beginning to become noticeable to others. How does their LI find out and help them? If it is Solas, does he feel guilty for causing this?”

Pairing: Cassandra Pentaghast x Female Trevelyan

Words: 3540

Rating: T

---

Elera Trevelyan was woken up to the feeling of fire in her veins and sudden breathlessness, her private quarters—usually dimly lit by the moon’s light—aglow with a sickly green hue. She grabbed the pillow behind her in time to shove her face into it and muffle her agonized scream, body curling into a tight ball and arm convulsing freely as the pulses from the mark on her hand came steadily. She wasn’t sure how long it was until the pulses slowed and finally stopped, but by then Elera was covered in sweat and her throat felt raw. Her entire arm twitched from the after effects of the mark’s spasms, veins still feeling like fire but slowly ebbing into the dull throb she normally felt on good days.

If tonight’s episode was anything to go by, today would not be a good day.

Elera sighed in defeat and reached over to her bedside table, tugging the drawer open and pulling out a small bowl, a cloth, and a half-empty bottle of Tevinter wine Dorian had gotten her for her birthday. With a wave of her hand the bowl was filled with water, and she began the tedious process of wiping the sweat from her brow and checking on her arm, the same as every night. A few weeks back she’d found blood oozing from a battle-earned wound, reopened from the intensity of the mark’s spasms, but tonight she was lucky. Instead of blood, she noticed what looked like several scars creeping their way up her arm, tinted the same shade of green as the mark on her hand.

Elera grabbed the wine bottle, uncorked it, and chugged straight from the bottle.

She’d deal with the panic that would no doubt come in the morning. The moon was still bright in the sky, way too early an hour for her to be up, and at the moment Elera wanted nothing more than to sleep. She set the bottle aside and curled back under her covers, covering her hand with the pillow she’d screamed into to block out the light glow from her palm.

Just another average night for the Inquisitor. 

***

Elera had a routine.

It started at Maker-knew-when at night when her mark decided she needed a little more pain in her life, a pain so sharp that when it had first happened her scream was enough to summon some guards who believed she was being murdered. Solas had assured her that once the Breach had been closed, the pulses were sure to stop and she’d finally get a full night’s rest, and--fool that she was—Elera had believed him. She’d suffered the pitying glances from her fellow troops and supposed worshipers each day while at Haven as she made her way from her cabin to the healer for a potion or two, then later to the tavern for a stiff drink. Blackwall had often joined her once he’d been recruited to their cause, the two of them swapping stories about their home and the biggest creatures they’d fought; a real dick-measuring contest. The Iron Bull, of course, beat them all once he figured out her routine, though half the time she wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth. Properly drunk, Elera would stumble back to her cabin, stare at reports that she didn’t know half of the words of, and collapse onto her bed to cycle through the day again. Missions were a little more difficult, but Solas was a competent potions-brewer and Dorian always had a flask on him, either of them helping her through depending on her party for that trip.

The pain didn’t stop with the Breach, though, but Skyhold didn’t need to know that. She was no longer Elera Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste, which was daunting enough on its own. She was Inquisitor Elera Trevelyan, leader of the Inquisition and a figure all of Thedas was to look up to if Corypheus was to be stopped. Showing pain wasn’t an option for her, so she had to hide it.

Her pain-filled nights never stopped, but it was easier to hide that with how secluded her quarters were from the rest of the hold. Elera had given the staff strict orders to only clean when she gave the go-ahead to stop any accidental discovery, and so far they had obeyed. From her room she made her rounds, gritting her teeth against the throbbing that seemed to increase in pace and intensity when she was near Solas for a reason she couldn’t understand. Perhaps it was lucky she always looked stressed or tense, because no one bothered asking why her jaw was clenched enough to hurt, nor why she kept her hands clasped behind her back when she could help it. By the time she got to Cassandra the surgeon would finally be in sight, and Elera told herself that was the only reason her heart leapt in excitement. It was never the way Cassandra swung at her training dummies that made her react that way, with her toned muscles flexing in the rising Orlesian sun under a loose shirt that hung just right (because she didn’t always wear armor, contrary to popular belief). Nor was it the way Cassandra would startle slightly when she noticed Elera approaching, a slight smile touching her lips in acknowledgement.

No, it was because the surgeon had the stronger healing potions that she’d always been awful at making herself. It had nothing to do with her ill-fated crush on Seeker Pentaghast. 

That never fooled the surgeon, of course, not after the woman saw Elera run into a wall several times already as Cassandra swung at the practice dummy with well-practiced ease, stopping just short of chopping its head off or puncturing it beyond repair. It was embarrassing, to say the least, and she was proud when it didn’t happen again, the only embarrassing aspect of the morning being that Cassandra caught her staring and smiled at her. 

Smiled. Elera could swoon from a smile like that. 

She entered the surgeon’s building and quickly shut the door behind her, ignoring the older woman’s chuckle as she took a few breaths to slow her heart rate. When she was certain her flushing had stopped, Elera finally looked to the surgeon, an older woman with a kind smile that reminded her of her mother. She remembered vague details about her family, having been eight when she was brought to the Ostwick Circle, but she was certain her mother had a smile like Surgeon Rein. 

“Hiding from your object of affection again, Lady Trevelyan?” Rein teased, and Elera brushes the hair out her face with her good hand to compose herself. 

“Please, I haven’t been a lady in twenty-seven years,” she responded, sitting on one of the free cots and smiling warmly at the surgeon. “Do you have the potion ready, Rein?”

Rein’s smile faded, and she grabbed the potion from the top shelf with practiced ease. “I always do, my lady. How was the pain last night?”

A flash of intense pain sparked through the mark at the thought of the previous night, and she stifled her gasp by clenching her jaw tight. “It was worse than previous nights, I admit. Unfortunately, I can say that I’ve had it worse than this.”

The surgeon tutted and knelt before Elera, examining the mark and tracing the branches from it that traveled up her arm, tinted the mark’s unique shade of green even when the mark itself was otherwise dormant. “There’s only so much I can do to help with this matter, my lady. Perhaps Solas would be able to relieve some pain that my potions and tonics cannot.”

“No,” Elera said quickly, almost tanking her hand from the woman but just barely resisting. “It is bearable with what you’re able to provide, I promise.”

“It is spreading, Elera. It cannot be that bearable if it is consuming more of your arm each day.”

Elera swallowed thickly and looked away. She knew the surgeon was correct, that seeing Solas was likely the best solution for whatever was going on, but she didn’t want any of her companions to see her as lesser for being unable to handle the mark. She didn’t want Cassandra to see her as lesser, more truthfully. If it affected her field work, however, and endangered her teammates…

“I’ll consider it,” she finally said, voice trembling slightly. “I owe it to the people I fight beside, don’t I?”

Rein smiled gently and nodded. “They will be more understanding than you believe, my lady. Even your Seeker.”

“She’s not my Seeker, Rein. Nor am I a lady.”

“If either of those become true statements, then I will follow them as such. Until then, you are of House Trevelyan, a noble household, and I shall respect you as such—mage or not. Likewise, if you confess your affection to Seeker Pentaghast and she does not reciprocate, I will stop referring to her as yours. Believe me, though: she holds more affection toward you than you believe.”

Elera gave the surgeon a small smile and nodded. “Thank you. I’ll let you know if I’m right and you’re not.”

Rein smiled cheekily and stood, brushing the dirt off of her knees. “I would expect nothing less of you, my lady. 

***

In the end, it was her own stubbornness that revealed her pain to her companions, rather than her approaching Solas for help like Rein had suggested. 

Elera had meant to go to Solas, honestly, but soon after meeting with the surgeon her advisors had told her the sooner she got to Crestwood the better. The humidity and general dreariness of the place didn’t do anything for her mood, let alone the pain that seemed to worsen in bad weather. Though the constant rain had ceased after she’d helped get rid of the large Rift in Old Crestwood, it still rained about as much as the Storm Coast, and hunting down the Rifts she’d missed the last time they were there in such bad weather wasn’t the best. Varric and Solas were arguing with one another a few feet ahead over Cole, something that was becoming increasingly common between the two of them, and at her side, Cassandra huffed. 

“They’ll never agree,” she said. “I do not know why they bother arguing circles around each other every day.”

“They both care about Cole in their own way,” Elera said, smiling fondly at the two men. “Solas keeps treating him like a spirit, and Varric a human, so they’re bound to disagree.”

“But he is a spirit,” Cassandra said, brows furrowing. 

“He’s the most human spirit I’ve met. Unless Cole says something to me, and so long as Cole is treated kindly, then why does it matter?”

“I suppose you have a point. You can be the one to get that in their heads though.” Cassandra nodded at the men, and Elera laughed, bumping her arm against the Seeker’s fondly. For a moment she thought she saw a light flush on her cheeks, but that had to be because of the weather. Armor could get hot, and humidity did nothing to lower the heat of Crestwood. The silence dragged between the two of them for a time, only filled with Varric and Solas’ arguing and the pattering of rain against the cobblestone path they walked along, and it was comfortable in a way that Elera only felt in Cassandra’s company. 

Which should’ve been weird, considering when they first met Cassandra was holding her prisoner, but no one was perfect. 

A familiar green hue flickered up ahead, and Elera tensed, reaching back and grabbing her staff from its holster on her back. Her companions did the same at once, their eyes to Elera for the okay. They had a routine: she would aim her mark at the Rift to drain its power and weaken the demons that came from it while the others attacked them, join them while the demons were down until the Rift reaches full power again, rinse and repeat. It was only a matter of getting close enough to start the process, and Elera muffled the sound of her footsteps as she inched closer. 

The mark flared as it usually did around a Rift, but rather than tingling it felt ready to burst, and she shoved her hand at the Rift to close it. The mark burned as it sucked the power out of the Rift, and Elera let out a scream, clutching her forearm and dropping her staff—a critical mistake. The demons were going after her at once, but her companions made swift work of the majority of them. Cassandra used her shield to block the ice beam a despair demon shot her way, glancing at Elera as she cast a barrier around them both. 

“Are you alright?” Cassandra asked, though it was more of a shout so she could be heard above the demons’ shrieks. Elera nodded quickly and brought herself to her feet, grabbing her staff and casting a bolt of lightening toward the despair demon. 

“I’ll be okay,” she responded. “Go help the others. I’ll be alright here.”

Cassandra seemed hesitant but conceded a moment later, nodding and running toward the pride demon trying to attack Varric. Sweat was on Elera’s brow, and she wiped at it before continuing with their routine. Fire, attack, weaken the Rift, repeat. It was elementary at this point, but each time she weakened the Rift she nearly collapsed again. Even while fighting her companions kept sending her worried looks, but Elera just downed a health potion and continued her onslaught until the Rift was weakened enough to close. Her knees were weak and her breathing was heavy, but she shoved her hand at the Rift anyway to close it; somehow, it hurt worse than just draining it did. She tried to swallow back a scream but ultimately failed, sounding more strangled because of her effort and feeling as though her arm was about to fall off. 

If this was death, she’d gladly take it, though she’d miss seeing Cassandra every morning. A small price to pay for relief from this. 

When the Rift closed she fell to her knees, arms wrapping around her to keep her from falling any further. Elera looked up and saw worry in Cassandra’s eyes, said eyes flickering between Elera’s face and her left hand. So much for a secret, she mused internally. 

“Are you alright?” Cassandra asked, and Elera laughed painfully. 

“No, not really,” she admitted truthfully before passing out, the last thing she heard being Cassandra ordering Solas to look her over for injuries. 

***

Elera woke Maker knew how long later in an Inquisition camp, the red tent ceiling instead of her scrappy brown travel tent giving it away. She was in her night clothes and covered by what felt like two blankets, both pulled up to her chin and still managing to cover her short figure. It could’ve been a normal stop at camp, truthfully, but then she remembered the Rift and winced. That was certainly a way to reveal how much pain she’d been in since Haven, and not the way she’d intended by far, but what was done was done. She groaned and tried to sit up, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. 

Cassandra. 

Elera winced and lay back down, staring up at the other woman uncertainly. The contemplative look on Cassandra’s face could mean anything, she’d come to learn over the past year, so she had no idea what to expect. It didn’t seem like she was inclined to speak, though, so Elera wet her lips and asked,

“How long have I been asleep?”

“About half a day,” Cassandra responded. Elera’s mind froze. 

“Did you say half a day? Seriously?”

The Seeker raised an eyebrow. “Would I lie to you?”

She winced and sighed. The unlike you went unsaid but was certainly understood. “I’m just surprised. I haven’t slept that long in… in a while.”

“Because of your mark?”

“Yes, because of my mark.”

“Why didn’t you tell me it troubles you?” Cassandra asked, looking genuinely hurt. Elera’s heart broke; she hadn’t wanted to hurt Cassandra. “We could have gotten you proper help if we had known you suffered.”

“I didn’t want to worry any of you,” she admitted quietly. “I’ve dealt with pain before. It hurt like this back at Haven, and I couldn’t stand the pitying looks everyone gave me, Cassandra. I don’t want pity. I can’t stand it.” 

“I believe you mix pity with concern,” Cassandra said slowly, pulling the blankets back from Elera and lifting up her left hand. Elera tensed, ready for pain to flare up, but was surprised to feel nothing but vague pins and needles along her arm. When she sat up that time Cassandra didn’t stop her, instead using her finger to trace the veiny branches that emerged from the mark to just above her wrist. She watched silently as she did so, uncertain of what to make of the situation. “I too often find myself mistaking concern for pity,” she continued, eyes flickering up to meet Elera’s own. “As a Seeker, we are meant to withstand enormous pain without flinching to do what needs to be done. As a Pentaghast, I am expected of the same for far less noble intentions. During my time with the Inquisition, I have taken a great deal of hits that led me to sustain serious injuries. Did you pity me while I was in pain?”

“No,” Elera said quickly, eyes widening. “I thought about dragging you by the ear to lay down and rest though.”

Cassandra chuckled and nodded. “I suspected as much. Tell me, then, why you would believe we would pity you, when you obviously do not pity us while we are in pain?”

“I—” She hesitated, looking away and rubbing her neck with her free hand. “I don’t know. In the Circle, when someone was ill or in pain we hid it in case a Templar saw and used our weakness as an excuse for punishment: Tranquility, because we couldn’t fight back, isolation under the guise of keeping disease from others, sometimes worse just because they could.”

“That is repulsive.”

“That was reality,” she countered, frowning. “I know you and Cullen wanted me to side with the Templars while closing the Breach, but between what was happening in Redcliffe and my experiences in a Circle personally, how could I not support the mages? Maker, I couldn’t show it, but when I heard Kirkwall’s Chantry went in flames and the Gallows were destroyed by the infighting I was ecstatic. Would Andraste and the Maker want a world like this?”

It was Cassandra’s turn to frown, and they both watched each other for a moment, neither trying to make the first move. Elera could slowly accept that she saw concern, not pity, but if the mark brought enough pain to knock her unconscious, what good was she as Inquisitor? She swallowed thickly and closed her eyes. 

“So—”

“Elera—”

They both chuckled a bit awkwardly, and Elera nodded. “You first.”

Cassandra nodded and gripped Elera’s marked hand loosely in both of hers, her eyes intense as she looked at her. “I wish you had told me. I have… I have come to care for you a great deal since we founded the Inquisition, and seeing you collapse on the battlefield not from an enemy, but from this mark, terrified me.” She paused. “I do not want to see you come to harm, and if your pain is more chronic than temporary I wish to help you however I can.”

“Seeing you every morning helps me,” she murmured, blushing when Cassandra grinned. Slowly, as if she could scare Elera away with any sudden moves (which was possible, given her history), the Seeker brought the hand she held up to her lips and brushed them across her knuckles, her cheeks a deep crimson red. 

“Is that why I’ve seen you run into walls while looking my way?” Cassandra teased, and Elera giggled to hide (or show) her embarrassment, nodding and leaning closer to the other woman. 

“Perhaps.” Elera steeled her resolve and took a deep breath as she said, “Cassandra, I’ve come to care for you deeply as well. If I may, could I take you to lunch or dinner sometime? Just the two of us? There’s this little restaurant in Val Royeaux I’d love to try with you.”

“I would like that.”

The tent flap opened to the two of them grinning like idiots at one another, and Elera didn’t even mind when she heard Varric laugh at them. “You two finally got over yourselves, huh? Good for you. Hey Chuckles, she’s awake.”

She vaguely heard Solas explain how he’d cut off the majority of the pain she felt through the Fade and agreed to seeing him every few days to keep the mark from spreading any more than it already had, her mind more focused on the fact that she had a date with Cassandra. 

Surgeon Rein would be delighted to be able to say ‘I told you so’. Elera couldn’t find it in herself to mind.

[a-robin-among-thorns]

Request 4:Battle Wounds

Requested By @demonic-chaos

Word Count:1,750...I had a bit too much fun here ^^;

Content Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Despite what Renfred so often liked to accuse, Elias was not a violent person by choice. There were, of course, situations that forced his hand. Much like the one he found himself in now. He was unsure if there was ever a peaceful solution to be had when crossing paths with a territorial manticore, but he knew there was no chance he would find one today.

It had been pure bad luck that Elias had stumbled across the mismatched creature trouncing around the outskirts of the forest while he had been gathering components. He suspected it had somehow become misplaced from its Arabic homeland, perhaps in an even shadier than average auction transition. The church would have had him become involved sooner than later and he definitely did not want the man-eating beast lurking within a hundred miles of Chise.

But still, something of this nature is much easier to deal with when one is prepared, Elias thought as the beast’s swollen red stinger zoomed just past his shoulder.

The beast retracted its scorpion tail and reared back on its thick lion legs before landing down releasing a ghastly howl. Its face was human-like, as is someone had sawed off the face of an emaciated young man and sewn it to the neck of the lion body. Green strings of saliva hung from is cracked lips as it panted bodily.  

Elias sidestepped around the creature’s defensive position, slowly drawing his wand. No neighbors would come to his aid at this moment, he would have to draw on his power alone. The beast’s gold eyes, much too large for his human face, followed his every movement. Now or never.

He thrust his wand forward. "Nettle in the shadow. False hol-Ah!"

Heavy paws and claws crashed into his shoulders knocking aside his wand as he fell downward. Some instinctual fraction of good sense reminded him to raise his head slightly to prevent his horns from jamming and possibly cracking, into the soil. As luck would have it, that sense also moved his head in time to miss the stinger as it bolted forward and became deeply embedded into the earth.

Drops of stringy saliva brought the mage’s attention back to the beast hanging over him. Just in time to see its lips crack open across its face as it unhooked its jaw. Ah, so that was how this creature managed to swallow humans whole. Elias would just have to be bigger than a human then.

In an instant the liquid shadows that made up Elias’ body expanded, sprawling outward in jagged thorns and spikes. This didn’t stop the creature's trajectory resulting in its humanoid teeth clamping against the plumage and neck where Elias’ skull had been a second earlier. The teeth were blunt but the force behind them still threatened to knock the wind out Elias. He ignored the pain focusing on his thorns as they wound and spun around the beast prying its body of by an inch. Exactly enough for Elias to free his arms.

His right hand plunged into the beast’s side like a harpoon. Distantly, he noted the jaws of the creature unclamping from his shoulder while a sharper pain set in his external ribs. He ignored it, gripping his jaws around its neck and surging his hand into the beast’s hide deeper and deeper as it screeched and howled. Finally, his claws grasped the throbbing mass they had searched for and tugged. It fought furiously to free itself but the grip of Pilum Muralis was vice even against thick ropes of tendon and muscle.

Elias could feel muscles against his hand and tongue go limp as he ripped the beast’s heart free of its chest. A final hiss like a deflated balloon choked out of its mouth. With a definitive yank, Elias broke the organ free of the vessels connecting it. He was unlearned if the beast expressed healing capabilities but he did not wish to leave anything to chance.

Only after the heart ceased its residual beating did Elias finally release his grip, both on the creatures neck and disembodied organ. He made to sit on his haunches to inspect the damage...well damn. This could pose a problem.

----

The gathering basket fell to her feet in a clatter of herbs and vegetables. Her hands clasped over her mouth as Chise inspected the scene before her in horror. Her ring had alerted her the instant Elias had been injured and she had rushed to find him. She couldn’t have possibly imagined this.

Elias lay on his side, his body taking the huge form she had not seen since their first encounter with Cartaphilus. Blood seeped from his shoulder and coated his hand. Not an arm's length away laid the slain manticore, it’s open throat and chest already being scoured by mushroom-like fae. All of this was awful. But not quite as awful as the sight of the beasts stinger embedded in Elias’ external ribs.

She fell upon him in a flush, cupping her hands against the corners of his jaw. To her great relief, his eyes flickered at the contact opening up to meet her. “...Chise..?”

Chise felt a mountain lift from her shoulders. “Elias, thank god you’re alive.” She leaned her forehead against his own, grateful beyond words to feel his rumbling breath tickle her belly. She finally pulled away, still cupping his jaw, to look him in the eyes. “What happened here?”

“Lots of things,” he answered as he slowly propped his long arms to sit upright, “but mostly I was very unlucky today.” Chise was not pleased with the answer but her attention was quickly drawn to the heavy thud of Elias’ body collapsing back to the ground. A pained hiss slipped between his grinding teeth.

She shuffled to where the stinger, still attached to the beast’s tail was lodged into the lowest and smallest of Elias’ external ribs. An inch lower and it would have sunken into his belly, she thought with a shiver. She didn't know how potent the venom of a manticore was but bone should, in theory, spread it slower than blood. She hoped.

With steely resolve, she looked back to his eyes. “What do I need to do?”

“You’ll need to remove it without touching the venom." He rumbled in answer. "Try not to let it break off if you can.”

She fished her gardening gloves from her apron pockets and hurriedly put them on. Placing her right hand against his stomach for purchase, she felt him tense as she cautiously closed her dragon cursed hand round the bit of stinger closest to the embedment. Using the ancient strength of dragons made her nervous. One slip of concentration would render the stinger to keratinous shards.

She took a deep breath and slowly pulled. Inch by inch, centimeter by centimeter the stinger was removed from the bone. With a jerk, it unhooked from the bone leaving a dent filled with a shallow pocket of a troubling thin yellow liquid. But thankfully no blood.

Elias rose to look at her work and made to give her the next instructions. To his surprise, Chise was already at work pulling basil leaves from her bag of holding in one hand and her wand in the other. She peered around the treetops til stopping at one. “Will you help me?” She called offering up her palm. A gentle tinkling sounded as a Hawthorn spirit landed in her palm. Its eyes crinkled in a smile. They were often pleased to help their dear sleigh beggy.

Chise crushed the basil between her fingers and sprinkled it in the dent of bone. A spicy herbal scent filled the air as the powdered leaves fizzled in contact with the pooled venom. Holding her wand and the fae aloft she began to chant.

Seep and burn herbs of the earth.

Run deep and work the bezoar’s deed.

The magic of the queen bee sparkled and fizzed through the air landing on the specks of basil leaves. The herbal smell grew stronger as the fizzling leaves burned in bright yellow streaks. The light spread along the bone in spiderweb patterns followed by smoke like an incense burner. In a few minutes, the last of the smoke dissipated out of the bone leaving not a trace of venom.

The crease between Chise’s forehead smoothed as she sighed. “Thank you, friend.” The hawthorn squeaked happily and disappeared is a flash of sparkles.

Elias rose again in a smooth unhurried motion. “Well done Chise, I am very impressed at your progress.” He looked her over with a proud glimmer in his eyes. “And your ingenuity.”

Chise blushed, tucking a wild tuff of her bangs behind her ear. “I had made something similar for mother up the hill whose son was stung by a scorpion. I was worried it wouldn’t work without the rest of the catalysts or it just wouldn’t be strong enough for monster poison.”

Elias tilted his head, pondering. “If a normal mage would have attempted it, it may have not worked. Also calling on a forest fae was a smart decision.”

Chise would have basked in the praise a moment longer were it not for the spots of blood dripping from Elias’ neck. She reached into her bag once more and secured the gauze and cleaning agent she kept on her desk drawer. She walked to where he had lain his head earlier. “Can you lie back down on your stomach so I can patch up your neck?” He complied as Chise set to work on her knees.

Despite the second set of horns making the maneuvering somewhat awkward, Chise made quick work of the wounds. Once finished she removed her gloves and stuffed them in the apron pocket. She would have to remember to wash the whole kit later. “How does that feel?”

Elias experimentally twisted his neck here and there. “Much better. Thank you Chise.”

She smiled again as she sat criss-cross. “I don’t suppose you can change back yet?”

He haunched somewhat sheepishly. “Not yet, I don’t think.”

Chise held her hands out urging. He accepted the invitation without hesitation, settling his chin in her lap. “That's fine. I’ll stay here till you can.” His eyes muted pleasantly as she began stroking the top of his skull.

“Thank you Chise.” He said as his clean hand wrapped around her.

“And you can explain why you didn’t call me when you saw the manticore.” She teased.

“Urk!...Alright.”

[gattius-starfrost]

Unexpectedly Expecting

Gattius’ old bedroom had changed over the last few weeks. The bed no longer saw many sleeping patrons, instead serving now as an exam bench of sorts. Free closet space opened up room for books, notes, and all manner of medical supplies. He had moved his leisurely items out as well, clearing his desk space for a laboratory expansion. It was an idea he had for some time, but never enacted because there was never room for it. At least, not any room he had access to. The basement would’ve worked well, but Tannis locked it away before his passing. Just as well - from what he’d been told, the basement housed nothing but knicknacks and junk. Typical for a basement. Still, Gattius wondered why Tannis never thought to set up at least one room in his manor as a small exam room. Perhaps he didn’t care to bring his work home with him. Either way, Gattius saw the merit of it. And now that he’d moved in with Syrielle, it was the perfect opportunity to turn his old room into a makeshift infirmary, right here on the Manor grounds!

‘I don’t know why yer botherin’, lad.’ Alteris chuckled, leaning idly up against one of the bookshelves as he sharpened his blade. ‘What else could it be?’

By some miracle, Gattius managed to pull a blood sample from Syrielle just a day prior. She hated needles; there was no way she’d let him take a blood sample, even if it were to test her for biological anomalies. Specifically, in this case… pregnancy.

“Could be a dozen things, Alt.” Gattius replied aloud to his imaginary friend. “Still could be mana deficiency. Or some kind of virus she picked up on Argus. Hell, it could be a stomach ulcer, blood sugar deficiency, abnormal menopause, or even a parasite.”

‘It’s a parasite, alright - one you put in ‘er!’ Alteris laughed.

“Bah, shut up! We’ll know soon enough.”

The beakers were set, mixtures stable. Carefully, he pulled the syringe of Syrielle’s blood out from his medical pack. There was enough, thankfully, to conduct three conservative tests. The first, obviously, would be a pregnancy test. But the results of it would take longer to manifest. So while he waited, he decided to do two more - a standard, wide-spectrum wellness check, and a cell/mana-cohesion test to indicate if her body retained the same magical potential it always had. Thankfully, he had a pretty extensive medical record on Syrielle for comparison. He rationed out the blood samples, and got to work. Each mixture was set relatively easy. Now, all he had to do was wait.

‘Still can’t believe she lied to you about those herbs…’

“I’m sure she didn’t.” Gattius frowned. “They’re not one-hundred percent effective.”

‘Aye, unless you take ‘em, they’re ZERO percent effective!’ another boisterous laugh.

Gattius sighed, shaking his head. A part of him did worry that perhaps Syrielle wasn’t entirely truthful with him. He never verified, that first time or any subsequent time. More often than not, he’d just assume. But she wouldn’t lie about something like that… with all the partners she’s had over the years, and no children to show for it… surely she took precautions. What if she forgot one time? Or maybe a lingering effect of the curse caused her to believe she had?

‘What if her contraceptive plan was entirely post-conception?’

Gattius frowned deeper. That’d be horribly irresponsible. There were ways, of course. But like many other things, it was much easier and safer to prevent than to treat. Syrielle wouldn’t be so cavalier with her body like that…

“... Would she?” he asked himself, with a sigh.

‘It’d be a simple thing for a mage, lad. Abra-cadabra, Fetus Deletus!’ Alteris proclaimed, waving his dagger around as if it were a wand.

“--Not Syrie!” Gattius barked. “She knows better. Dr. Starfrost must’ve had dozens of talks about this with her, all growing up. I incited a few of them, myself, with all the little pranks I’d pull on her. She wouldn’t use such a dangerous method.”

He turned, seeing one of the tests conclude. The beaker of solution bubbled for a moment, before calming - the mixture turning a clear pinkish hue. He nodded, smiling, as he flipped open his notepad.

“Patient’s wide-spectrum returned no abnormalities…” he said aloud, as he normally did conducting such tests. “Traces of hormone supplements manifested. So there - she is taking the herbs.”

He smiled proudly, writings filling the page with additional details such as time, date, and others. A good start, at least. She was healthy, using the right methods, and most importantly, telling the truth. Of course, that meant it was either mana deficiency, or…

‘Fine, so she was takin’ them.’ Alteris conceded. ‘Could somethin’ counteract them? Undo them, y’know?’

“Hm…” Gattius hadn’t considered that. “It’s possible. The herbs and teas increase hormone levels to close off the uterus. That prevents the pregnancy. But… it’s possible something she ate or drank could counteract those effects.”

‘Somethin’ on Argus, perhaps?’

Gattius shook his head.

“No, no, the only thing there would be fel contaminant. That doesn’t affect hormone levels. And even if it did, I--”

A thought struck him; a medical procedure he’d use to mend biological anomalies. Something standard practice for him when tending patients. Something he’d employed for recreational use…

“... The Light.” he gasped. “When I used the Light on her… it would’ve reset her biological systems to their natural state. And using it so close to her uterus… must’ve reopened it.”

‘So yer lil’ Light-show foreplay undid her contraceptives?’ Alteris grinned.

Gattius swallowed hard. “... I think maybe it did.”

Alteris erupted, laughing hysterically. Gattius, however, did NOT find it funny in the least! ...Well, perhaps a little funny. His efforts to bring a little more excitement to the bedroom had backfired. He brought his hands to his face, and groaned. A bubbling hiss interrupted his dreaded moping, however - the second test was complete. He sat up, and inspected the second sample. The liquid sparked, this time, turning a deep blue - as deep a blue as he’d ever seen!

“--Well… her cell/mana cohesion’s as strong as ever.” he sighed, picking up his notebook again. “Patient exhibits exceptional cell/mana potential. No depreciation of Arcane affinity.”

‘Doesn’t leave much else it could be, eh?’ Alteris grinned.

Gattius sighed. Signs pointed more and more to Syrielle being pregnant. And to make it worse, he was pretty sure it was all his fault. He watched the pregnancy test, anxiously waiting out the last few minutes before it would either confirm or disprove his hypothesis. Most likely confirm.

‘What’re you gonna tell her, lad?’

“I don’t know…” Gattius sighed. “What should I tell her? She’ll find out I took a blood sample, first of all. Can’t imagine she’ll be thrilled about that. Then I have to tell her I unwittingly cancelled out her tried-and-true contraceptive method… and got her pregnant!”

He collapsed back into his chair with a sigh, throwing his head back against the headrest. What a mess.

‘... Well…’ Alteris began, stepping off from the bookshelf. ‘Is it really so bad, this?’

“What do you mean? Of course it’s bad!” Gattius frowned deeper. “We didn’t plan for this. We’re not ready for this. Fuck, I haven’t even proposed to her yet!”

‘Folks have kids together out of marriage all the time, lad.’

“I don’t know if she’s ready! I don’t know if I’m ready! This is a huge deal, Alt!”

‘Oh, get it together, you drama whore!’ Alteris scolded him. ‘Worst case, you terminate it and learn a valuable lesson about gettin’ kinky with the Light!’

Gattius sat up, brow raised at Alteris as he spoke.

‘Best case… she’s thrilled about it. You two get married, spawn the youngling, live that happy, picturesque life y’ve always wanted.’

The last vial fizzed, indicating it was done. Gattius turned quick, and watched in eager anticipation. The liquids continued to fizz, mellowed out, and turned bright yellow. Tentatively, Gattius reached for the vial, and gave it a light swirl. The color remained. There was no doubt about it now.

“... She’s pregnant.”

‘Told yeh.’

Gattius opened his notes, and jotted down the results.

“Patient… is shown to be with child.” he said aloud, before pausing.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Despite the headache, heartache, or great confusion this could easily cause him… he made a person with the woman he loved. And try as he did, he couldn’t be entirely upset about it. He gave in, grinning as he finished his notes.

“I, uh… I’m gonna go tell her, yeah?” he said.

‘Think you ought to, lad. I’ll wait here.’ Alteris joked.

Gattius rose from his seat, and headed out the door. His stomach churned, from excitement and dread both. He walked down the hall, and towards the bedroom where Syrielle was. Stopping just shy of the door, he took a deep breath.

“Here goes…”

[mllemaenad]

Something occurred to me recently, when I was contemplating the outcomes of a Leliana!Divine world-state. Circles, imperfect as they arguably are, provide a contained environment with which to resolve a potential outbreak of possession. I acknowledge that, as you have opined, the Rite Of Annulment is a sub-optimal response to them; that said, even a less questionable solution would be easier to implement with the Nevarran Accord in place. How would the post-circle Thedas solve such events?

Well, that’s a bit of an understatement. I believe I said that the Right of Annulment is fucking evil. :)

I stand by that, absolutely. I don’t think it is ‘questionable’ or ‘sub optimal’. I think the indiscriminate murder of what may amount to hundreds of trapped and helpless people is a grotesque and horrific thing. I get these Asks, sometimes. And they all amount to ‘But when do we get to murder mages? Surely now we can murder mages? Surely this situation is bad enough that we can murder mages?’

My answer is never. You never get to murder mages without consequences. And let’s be clear here: my word is ‘murder’. If you are cornered by a mage, possessed or otherwise, who means to kill you, and you find you must kill them to survive, then you are acting in self defence. And that’s fine. But if you have arrived on the scene with the intent to kill, you are a murderer.

First thing: this business about Circles and the Annulment being set up to resolve possession scenarios. They’re not. Not at all. If they’ve ever actually accomplished that, it was incidental to their true purpose. However, I think in most cases the Circles (and in all cases Annulments) have made things worse rather than better. I know that safety is how the Chantry sells it, but the Chantry lies.

Let’s take a look at how all this got started:

In the 83rd year of the Glory Age, one of the mages of the Nevarran Circle was found practicing forbidden magic. The templars executed him swiftly, but this brewed discontent among the Nevarra Circle. The mages mounted several magical attacks against the templars, vengeance for the executed mage, but the knight-commander was unable to track down which were responsible.

Three months later, the mages summoned a demon and turned it loose against their templar watchers. Demons, however, are not easily controlled. After killing the first wave of templars who tried to contain it, the demon took possession of one of its summoners. The resulting abomination slaughtered templars and mages both before escaping into the countryside.

The grand cleric sent a legion of templars to hunt the fugitive. They killed the abomination a year later, but by that time it had slain 70 people.

Divine Galatea, responding to the catastrophe in Nevarra and hoping to prevent further incidents, granted all the grand clerics of the Chantry the power to purge a Circle entirely if they rule it irredeemable. This Right of Annulment has been performed 17 times in the last 700 years.

– The Right of Annulment

The Templars murdered a mage for practising ‘forbidden magic’. What did he do? We’ll probably never know. And that’s the root cause of the problem: Templars are empowered to perform summary executions, and are never held accountable for their actions. They are assumed to be justified in anything they do.

The Circle mages, finding themselves trapped in a building with a mob of religious fanatics who had just proved they were not even slightly above murder, retaliated. Apparently, they were really good at it. Targeted guerilla warfare that kept the Templars on the back foot, and for which they were never caught. I’d just like to pause for a moment to give a fucking standing ovation to the Glory Age Nevarran mages. It’s doubtful they were ever able to write down and disseminate their tactics. Nevertheless, they should be an inspiration for every generation that followed after.

Eventually, someone broke through the Templar lines. I’m not sure whether I believe the bit about the demon summoning. I’ll certainly concede that it’s possible: people do summon demons to fight their battles, and that can get very, very, very out of hand. But ‘demons’ and ‘blood magic’ are the Chantry’s go-to excuses for everything, and they’ve been caught out lying or misunderstanding these situations before. The mages were, as I said, doing really well. And they were Nevarran mages. This is a culture that knows how to work the Fade, and, given that this is early Chantry history, I’d expect traditional Nevarran practices to be more prominent and less suppressed by Chantry forces. I’d put Nevarran mages up there with Rivaini and Avvar in knowing how to handle spirits.

Someone got out, and they stayed free for a year. Given that a ‘legion’ of Templars were sent after them (from context I’m not entirely sure if the author means 5,000 (ish) Templars, like they sent in the Roman army, or if she just means ‘a lot’ but I suspect the latter because bloody hell, that’s a lot of Templars), and they were pursuing them over the course of that time, I would guess that the 70 people killed were mostly, if not entirely, the pursuing Templars.

Whoever this was, possessed or not, they conducted an extremely effective rebellion against the Chantry and Circle systems. They, as well as the other mages involved, demonstrated that Templars could be resisted. And not just resisted: killed. They could be taken out in large numbers. You can just walk out of a Circle.

That could never be allowed to happen again.

The Right of Annulment meant that, back at the stage where the mages were just ‘mount[ing] several magical attacks against the Templars’, the Templars could just go in and slaughter everybody, without making any effort to discover who was behind the rebellion.

The Right of Annulment is a terror tactic, aimed at suppressing rebellion. The Circle system exists to oppress and contain mages, both for the financial and political gain of the Chantry, and because Orlesian culture is genuinely anti-magic and wants to suppress magic in other cultures. None of this is done for anyone’s safety.

Look at the other times it’s occurred (where we have any details to discuss):

The third time the Right of Annulment was invoked on a Circle of Magi, in 3:09 Towers, Knight-Commander Gervasio of Antiva killed all of the city’s mages for demonic possession. However, a massacre may have already occurred at the hands of Knight-Captain Nicolas, with the Right invoked as cover-up. The Seekers of Truth later apprehended Ser Nicholas, who had left the order to kill mages and admitted to having murdered over a hundred.

– Magehunter

Ser Nicholas murdered a bunch of mages, both inside the Circle and out, and the other Templars killed any survivors to prevent retaliation or attempts to seek justice. This is a perfect case of the process Galatea implemented working exactly as intended: the Antivan mages were never given the chance to organise and resist the way the Nevarran mages did. They also claimed they did it because of mass demonic possession, which is why I’m suspicious of the original Glory Age event.

The Annulment in the Broken Circle quest was called due to Uldred’s rebellion:

Uldred will show us the way. Finally, recognition within the Circle and freedom from the scornful eye of the templars. We will not be shunned. Be ready.–Enchanter Gravid, Libertarian

The time is drawing near. Uldred has brought his intentions to light and a confrontation is all but inevitable. We will separate or walk with our brothers, but we will be free.–Enchanter Boson, Libertarian

If blood must be shed and used, so be it. I will follow when he calls. The yoke must be released, whatever the cost.–Enchanter Prist, Libertarian

I have spoken to him directly. His intentions are that we will demand the templars withdraw. I don’t know that I am willing to follow, but I will be present to hear his argument.–Enchanter Fonst, Aequitarian

Madness! I doubt blood will be of use to you if it is flowing down the tower steps. Step away from this folly, before it consumes us all.–Enchanter Luvan, Loyalist

The call is made. We will stride out of here with pride in our step, regardless of outcome. This is for the good of the circle. Uldred will see to it.–Libertarian Rhonus

– Promises of Pride

I can’t take any Templar handwringing over this situation seriously when I have to note that this is, once again, a rebellion. Uldred and his allies had an actual plan: with Loghain’s backing they were going to force the Templars out of the Circle. It is entirely within Templar interests to kill all of these people.

This is also a rare case where we can actually confirm a demon outbreak in the Circle. It is thus a clear example of why ‘containment’, as you’ve put it, is cruel, counterproductive, and indeed itself an outright evil.

If you are confronted by a demon, and lack the strength to fight it, the best thing you can do is leave. The Circle system does not allow mages to do that. They are unable to get away from the demons hunting them, and have no choice but to confront them. 

Because the mages could not leave the Circle, what started with a single case of demonic possession, when Uldred fucked up a summoning spell, became a plague. While the timeline on this is somewhat murky, the events of Broken Circle likely took place over two or three days: during that time both mages and Templars who were trapped in the Circle were hunted down by demons and either killed or possessed. This was always bad, but the Circle made it a nightmare.

The Annulment in the Kirkwall Chantry was largely called because Meredith is a terrible person who likes to hurt mages … but, it can certainly be framed as a reaction to what she perceives as open rebellion:

Varric: The more she squeezed the mages, the more they resisted. The more they resisted, the tighter she squeezed.

Mages have been attempting to flee Meredith’s brutal regime in the Gallows for years:

Here in Kirkwall, citizens actually help rebel mages escape. Escaped apostates have survived their freedom long enough to form the “the mage underground,” a network that feeds and shelters escapees and even transports apostates into remote areas of the Free Marches and beyond our easy reach.

– The Mage Underground

We can’t trust the raiders’ promise of passage - the templar’s bounty on us is far too tempting. Press on every contact you have! We must leave Kirkwall before the knight-commander does something drastic. Each night, more of our brethren make it to the coast.

If the hounds sniff out your current location, the other site we discussed is clear. Be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice.

– Blood Mage Dispatches

Ultimately, of course, Meredith used Anders’s attack on the Kirkwall Chantry as a pretext for the slaughter. That had fuck all to do with the Circle mages, but it didn’t need to: the Kirkwall mages were already attempting to escape their oppression in large numbers. That couldn’t be permitted. ‘Anders’, ‘demonic possession’, ‘blood magic’ – in the end, any excuse will do, when the point of an Annulment is to both crush the present rebellion and deter anyone who thinks about trying again.

When we heard of the injustices against our fellow mages at the White Spire, the Circle of Magi in Val Royeaux, I feared what was to come. Our Circle at Dairsmuid is small and isolated; it exists largely as a façade to appease the Chantry.

When the other Circles rose up, the Chantry sent Seekers across the bay from Ayesleigh to investigate. They found us mixing freely with our families, training female mages in the traditions of the seers, and denounced us as apostates. Perhaps they thought we were spineless robes who could be intimidated with a little bloodshed. Before I was first enchanter, I was the daughter of Captain Revaud, of the Felicisima Armada. I know how to plan a battle.

They brought with them a small army of templars. We fought. And we might have won. But they invoked the Right of Annulment, with all the unrelenting brutality that allowed. It is their right to put screaming apprentices to the sword, burn our “tainted” libraries, crush irreplaceable artifacts under their heels, tear down the very walls of our home. No mage has the right to disagree.

We of the Dairsmuid Circle wait now, behind barricades. I have sent word to our brother and sister mages of this outrage. When they break through, we will not die alone.

– The Annulment at Dairsmuid

The Annulment at Dairsmuid happened because a large-scale rebellion was already underway. The Dairsmuid Circle is clearly sympathetic to the rebellion – Rivella clearly calls the events at the White Spire an injustice – but given that they are a small Circle, practically speaking they probably couldn’t add much might to the uprising. This Annulment was symbolic: the Rivaini mages have likely been living their lives like this for generations; in the context of the mage uprising any deviation from Chantry dogma could be called ‘rebellion’. This Circle could only be said to be in rebellion in the most technical sense, but that was enough. They killed them all.

The Annulment is not a solution to demon possession. It’s not intended to be. That’s not what it’s for, and that’s not how it’s used. It’s terrorism. I’m sorry for the length of this, but every time I get an Ask like this I feel like I’m somehow failing at a fundamental level to convey the horror of what is going on in Thedas. The grim, ugly persecution and mass murder that is going on day-by-day, and is being sold to the average Thedosian as for their safety. The world of Dragon Age is terrifying, but not because it has demons or mages in it. It’s terrifying because of the amount of power it has ceded to the Chantry, and because of what that means for any person who doesn’t meet the Chantry’s definition of ‘normal’.

Okay. So. How should they handle it?

There’s a flippant part of me that just wants to say ‘Any way other than this!’ Because, honestly, it’s difficult to think of a system that’s worse than the one they have now. But it’s not as though they have no way forward.

The first thing I would say is that simply abolishing the Circle system should alleviate the problem considerably, because you aren’t going to have hundreds of mages packed into a place they can’t leave. You can’t have 500 possessed mages on your hands if only three mages live in your village.

It would also limit several of the causes behind possession: you won’t be forcing people to live in places where the Veil is routinely thinned by blood magic and demon summonings (phylacteries and Harrowings, respectively, and fuck the Chantry for their hypocrisy). You won’t be constantly subjecting people to high-stress situations: Tranquility, the Harrowing, forced separation from your family, long-term confinement, Templars in general, the fact that sometimes your friends just disappear and you have to accept this as normal – you know, the standard horrors of being a Circle mage.

Of course, there will still be cases where relatively large numbers of mages congregate to deal with matters affecting them specifically: classes, lectures, magic-related competitions or other leisure activities, and the political proceedings of the College of Enchanters.

Should any trouble occur in such situations – well, most schools have evacuation and lockdown procedures in place aimed at protecting students and staff when there’s a threat on campus. Why should this situation be any different? No system is ever going to be perfect, and you can’t guarantee that no one is ever going to die (we can’t do that in our world either), but you can have strategies arranged in advance to get people away from danger areas, and on what to do if you find you can’t get out and have to protect yourself until help arrives.

First thing is clear the area. Anyone who is not actively hurting someone else right now gets to evacuate. Right now, I don’t care whether any of the people in the crowd are also possessed. You can test for that, and it may not even be a problem. Unless you currently look like this:

… and you are trying to rip people’s arms off, you get to leave.

Now, yes, that still leaves us with a possessed person. On that point, I would say that the Chantry lands need to completely change how they view spirits, mages and possession. As far as I can tell, everything they think is wrong, and a lot of it is dangerous. The Chantry regards demons as ‘the Maker’s first children’, who turned on humanity out of jealousy. They are inherently evil and irredeemable. That’s not true. No spirit has ever corroborated that story, and All New, Faded for Her demonstrates that a demon is a spirit in pain, and can be healed.

The Chantry regards possession as just about universally a death sentence. And that’s … really not true. There are some cases where possession is just fine. The Chantry would have killed Wynne just as much as Uldred if they knew about her situation. Cullen wants to lock Sigrid in a room with a Templar, because he doesn’t grasp that there’s nothing wrong with her. Your first question, when dealing with a case of possession, should always be ‘Is this actually a problem?’ If not, go away and leave them alone.

Even in cases where you are looking at outright hostile demonic possession, the mage is rarely gone. Connor, untrained child that he is, still surfaces sometimes. Having defeated her Templars attackers with demonic assistance, Evelina first flees from her kids, taking the demon away from them – although she loses control later. Marethari will contain the pride demon with which Merrill has been working until she is clear of her clan and the battle can be fought in seclusion. Grandin’s kind of a weird case, because the possession was voluntary and the two are working together – but it does seem to be a demon. Nevertheless, in that case you can speak to him, and there remains hope that the two might eventually sort themselves out.

We know that mages can be saved from demons. Connor, Feynriel, Fiona, Pharamond – all people who have survived demonic possession. It’s not even necessarily difficult: you can send Jowan in to fight Connor’s demon – this poor hapless apprentice whom they were going to make Tranquil – and he does just fine. Of course, some demons are stronger than others; I’m not saying it’s not a good idea to have specialists. But the Chantry is seriously overstating the problem here.

When possessed, most mages think they are about to die. The brave, the strong, the selfless – they fight to contain the demon until someone can come and kill them so they don’t hurt anyone else. But in those circumstances, it’s all too easy to succumb to despair. Imagine if mages could think, not ‘hold on, they’re coming to kill you’ but ‘hold on, help is on its way’.

So the next thing to do would be ask Dorian. People always seem to forget that Tevinter exists and, given that mages are aristocrats there, would seriously frown on just murdering them out of hand. Anders says in Dragon Age 2 (I haven’t got a screenshot, yet) that they help possessed mages in Tevinter. Now, when you explain to him that your previous plan had just been to murder small children because of demons, Dorian is probably going to yell … a lot. I mean … really a lot. But the entirety of southern Thedas deserves that and worse, so I can’t be too bothered. Get him to send books and specialists. Make this part of the curriculum in the College of Enchanters. It might become part of the Spirit Healer specialisation, since they’re already good with spirits.

Our third thing is … well, asking Solas is probably impractical at the moment, but there are alternatives. We need people who care about spirits and who want to help them. Ask Cole: one way or another, his entire quest line is about providing a spirit with the emotional tools to handle the mortal world. There’s more than one path that works, so regardless of whether you chose more spirit/more human, he should have some insight. Ask the Rivaini, the Dalish, the Avvar. They know about spirits, and they know how to reach the Fade. Some things the Chantry thought were impossible (like safe spirit possession) turn out to be perfectly normal in other cultures.

The Chantry needs to admit they know fuck all about this situation and have been causing incalculable harm for centuries.

This whole process should be regarded like an outbreak of a really complicated illness: get everyone clear of the area, and send in professionals to help, rather than harm. Ideally, everyone should get out of this alive. You should be aiming to save the spirit and the mage. If that’s not possible, you save whom you can. Killing is only ever a last resort.

And finally … now we need to determine whether a criminal act was committed. If you got possessed because you live in Kirkwall, and it’s hard to go three steps without running into a demon, then you are a victim and once you’ve been freed of the demon you have nothing to answer for. If you thought it was a good idea to summon a demon army in your basement to TRY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD, then we’re going to have to bring in the guard to arrest you.

Now … that’s should. It’s probably not will. The Chantry has ruled Thedas for centuries, and they have taught people that mages want to get possessed and kill people and/or that mages want to be magisters and make everyone else slaves. Making Leliana Divine does not just do away with all that prejudice. She may well ask the questions and do the research – she’s a bright lady, and will just give zero fucks about gossip about talks with Tevinter or ‘barbarian’ cultures – but teaching people not to stab first and think later, not to regard mages as inherently evil at worst and as expendable sinners at best will take time. I expect them to handle many things badly. We haven’t done away with bigotry in the real world either, so.

There’s also the problem of Bioware, because they would really like it if I were deeply conflicted over whether to choose mages or Templars, so I do expect more side quests where they force me to kill possessed mages. I mean – I really hope they stop that shit, but I’m not expecting it.

But Circles and the Annulment are for no one’s protection. Well, no one’s but the Chantry’s. And I say: fuck the whole lot of them.

[missmorior]

Just a mini project I started concerning my DA:I Inquisitor Evangeline whose play through I just recently finished- I swear I had a theme going but it just kinda got lost somewhere in here;;

Redcliffe wound up a relatively simple mission. A briefly tense moment during which the Herald and Dorian vanished in a plume of smoke before shortly reappearing, but that was the end of it. Alexius surrendered without a fight and the Inquisiton gained valuable allies in the rebel mages and in Alexius’ son, Felix. Returning to Haven, few saw the shaking of the Inquisitor’s hands or how her eyes would mist whoever she glanced upon one of her companions. She was quiet when recounting the events that occurred in the future, obviously skipping over details but still giving enough information to ensure that the terrible future would never come to pass. Questions about it all were expertly dodged, even Dorian couldn’t pry anything from the iron trap that she became.

It wasn’t until Skyhold that cracks began to appear in the great armor of lady Trevelyan.

Cole notices first, because of course he does. Her sadness reaches through even beyond how bright she shone. Pain, so much pain. Need to keep moving, cannot rest until everyone is safe- I will NOT let them fall. He sees that she makes an effort to remember him, to seek him out and make sure he is welcomed into their fold. How her eyes go very sad whenever they arrive a moment too late or when she sees her people in pain. She wants to help, but doesn’t know how. Her hurt is so much bigger than she knows and it stops her from helping how she wants to. Makes her scared, and very small. Even when she stands up to the bad people and becomes so very, very big- she shrinks back into herself and the hurt. He finds reasons to leave flowers in places she frequents. Small white blooms that smell like home. Evangeline’s smiles are a little softer when she finds them; it still hurts, but the hurt is different. Easier. It brings back memories of things other than the sickly red glow and dying sky. She’ll tell him later that the feeling is called homesickness, and it’s bittersweet in a good way.

Dorian’s awakening is a rude one. He’s grown rather fond of the Inquisitor, she’s one of the only relatives of his that he can stand at present. She’s willing to listen to his views on politics and magic, better yet she doesn’t question his choices and makes a point to shoo off anyone who would give him too much trouble. Nothing he can’t handle but seeing the delicate woman snarling at an over-confident templar and bringing them to heel is a great show. So it’s beyond distressing to answer a quiet rapping on his door in the middle of the night to find dear Evie shaking like a leaf, looking up at him with watery eyes. She must have worked wonders with make-up because how could he not have noticed those circles under her eyes, so dark they could have been bruises? They made a habit of this, pestering each other in the ungodly hours of the night when either the nightmares hit too close to home or when they simply needed the reassurance of family. He managed to help some with those haunted looks she’d keep sending everyone, knowing all too well that she still saw her friends warped by that dreadful lyrium, and Andraste preserve him- his cousin actually managed to help bridge the impossible divide between he and his father. If Evie happened to deck Magister Halward Pavus and leave him with a rather glorious black eye, well Dorian wasn’t going to be the one to snitch to the Imperium. The altus keeps an eye on her when they travel, fussing like a mother hen if she tries to get away with taking multiple watches or ignoring injures. Insists on teaching her simple spells- “These are child’s play! How have you not learned how to do this?” - to be used in daily life that offer small comforts. He’ll handle the good-natured ribbing from Bull about going soft, she’s family.

When Solas walks the Fade, he finds an echo of Haven and the dreaming Inquisitor within. She does’t seem to notice his approach, sitting on the dock of the frozen lake and staring at the Chantry across the way. It’s full of life once more, noisy but dulled from being memory. He sits beside his fellow mage and they watch in silence for a time. Evangeline breaks it when she sighs, snow falling as creatures of despair begin to take notice. “You said in the Fade, when a spirit dies something could once again form in its place. Do you-… Do you think that in time, something new could be built where Haven stood?” “I cannot tell you, my friend.” They walk together in the Fade often after that, speaking of everything and nothing. The Inquisitor was eager to listen as he spoke at great lengths of his travels and his studies of magic - things he knew would keep her mind from wandering to the past, ironic as it was. Later, far later when the greatest threat to them all was slain and Evangeline victorious, Solas would spare her from having to say goodbye. Though he did not look forward to the inevitable clash, they would surely meet again.

Sera likes Evie. Sure, she’s got the whole glowy, mage-y shite going on but she’s people. Despite being her high and mighty Inquisitorialness, the mage always puts the needs of the little people first. It was a bit of a shock when Evie had her people go and run Red Jenny stuff, even more so when Sera found out that the Inquisitor was always up to running around pranking people. It was good. Meant that the pomp and nonsense didn’t go to her head. Regardless, Sera knows people, so she sees how Haven hit Evie hard. Not the loss of the base, let Cully-Wully and Josie fuss over that; she’d been there with the Inquisitor, running into fire and headfirst at red templars to save every person they could. They still lost people, good people, ones that even Sera knew. The cookies were honestly a mistake. She was just going to try something and then next thing she knew the tray was overflowing. They weren’t even any good, stupid raisins. But Evie liked dumb stuff like this, and it’s why Sera dragged her to the kitchens to help make decent cookies. Inquisition cookies. Those were good, yeah? Getting all covered in flour and making a huge mess wasn’t how it was supposed to end up, but it was fun and it got Evie focusing on something other than the hole in the sky. The Inquisiton cookies weren’t too bad either, even if they were burnt.

Being a Ben-Hassrath (well, former now) meant Bull had seen the cracks before the rest of them, close to when he noticed Cole leaving weeds all over the places the Inquisitor went. Evangeline was a good leader- wouldn’t do well under the qun though. She was too soft, too willing to listen to a sob story and throw herself into problems that weren’t her own. Liked to sing when no one was looking. That’s what really tipped him off. When the camp settled down, the dwarf and the warden having gone to sleep already, he’d expected their resident songbird to pipe up while tending the fire as she took first watch. Instead, all he got was the crackle of their fire and the occasional yipping of hyenas further off in the Approach. She barely made a peep when he’d woken up later to take over for the second watch, just stayed huddled too close to the fire to be safe and glared at it like it’d offended her. Wasn’t a look he’d see often- “I don’t think you can intimidate the fire like you do templars. You’ve gotta be tired if you’re trying that." “Just a little longer out here. I can’t sleep, not yet. I’ve-.. I have cards-?” “...Sure, Boss. Might want to move away so you don’t burn them.” He understood Dorian’s fussing a little better after that, when the Inquisitor ends up falling asleep curled up against his side, clinging like he’d vanish if she didn't. She had too big of a heart for the shit hand she’d been dealt- even if she usually carried the weight like it was lighter than her grimoire. So if he’s a little more protective of their leader after that no one takes notice, they probably see it like his affection for his Chargers. Probably a little too transparent with the boss though- she thanks him by taking him along to fight an Abyssal High Dragon.

Vivienne and the Inquisitor did not often see eye to eye on issues. Though both had attended the Ostwick circle, lady Trevelyan seemed far too keen on disbanding the circles of magi for some other solution. Discovering that Trevelyan had found copies of some manifesto by a Kirkwall apostate- no, from /the/ Kirkwall apostate that blew up the Chantry- and that she agreed with them set the two against each other fiercely. Still, Vivienne could not discount the girl’s kindness, however misguided it was. She sought to assist the front lines, taking on the specialization of knight-enchanter (finally some sense of good taste in the dear Inquisitor) and Trevelyan brought her the snowy wyvern heart without so much as a question. Agreed to come along to-… Well, no need to dwell on the unpleasant past now. Truly, such single mindedness would be her undoing. One cannot afford to be unerringly kind to so many without risking undermining one’s own worth. Don’t even get her started on the girl’s agreeing with Tevinter ideals or allowing a demon to roam free within Skyhold. But perhaps she was too hard on their dear Inquisitor at times. There was a quiet strength to Evangeline that Vivienne could come to appreciate and count on, one that rarely showed until she was pressed beyond what that outer image of innocence. The younger mage played the grand game expertly even with her heartfelt honesty, and her dancing left the nobles’ heads spinning in her wake with all their secrets now held within hands that quickly turned to assist the servants. What a curious paradox.

From the moment that mage popped up on his doorstep and into the fight with those bandits, Blackwall knew she’d be nothing but trouble. She was overeager to hear stories of his travels and liked to flit about the stables, chattering nonstop to whatever poor sod was unfortunate enough to be seen. Worse yet, she understood. Something in that little mage wanted so badly to do something good in the world despite how they were all too eager to demonize her missteps. She pulled together a menagerie of people who should have never been able to cooperate and turned them into something along the lines of family. Maker’s balls, she even inspired him. Made him want to be better than he was and if that didn’t bring trouble crashing down onto him then he doesn’t know what else could, short of darkspawn. He’d thought after the ordeal with his leaving and revealing himself a complete liar that the Inquisitor would want nothing to do with him. Count him not at all surprised but entirely disappointed that she pulled strings and brought nobility to heel all for the sake of getting him out of the Orlesian dungeons and into those at Skyhold. They’d been friends, despite his lie, and he’d seen her fury the one time she spoke with him. Sparks literally flying as they yelled at each other. He’d been certain with this he'd traded one executioner for another but- he hadn’t. The fury he’d seen was still there, but it had been all for his secrecy. Sentenced to carry out his duties to the Inquisiton as Thom Rainier and given his freedom to atone. And, to quote the Inquisitor after she’d caught up with him and backhanded him before a bone-crushing hug complete with messy tears, “to never scare me like that again you blighted fool”. She was still trouble, dragging them around to the far corners of Thedas and ever chattering about whatever came to her mind, but Rainier supposed he could use some trouble. It was what Grey Wardens were kept around for after all.

Their friendship was a strange thing indeed. Cassandra hardly expected to count the suspect of Divine Justinia’s murder among her friends yet here they were. Evangeline was a curious person, incredibly strong in her faith yet greatly unhappy with the Chantry. She was a fierce advocate for the freedom of mages yet she agreed that the templars had their place. They had first argued, Evangeline refusing to allow herself to be without a staff and met the Seeker’s own bullheaded determination with that of equal stubbornness. But that came with a sense of duty, of needing to atone for whatever had happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Over time they found more common ground, even in the most unlikely of places. Cassandra still couldn’t believe that she and the Herald both enjoyed the terrible writing that was Swords and Shields. But once she’d been found out Evangeline had squealed with delight and launched into a flurry of excited motion- going on and on about her love of the plot twists and how the guard captain just /had/ to find her true love in the next book! Surely there would be a good ending! She’d been going to drop off the gifted manuscript of the unpublished Swords and Shields to Evangeline when she’d stumbled across the Inquisitor staring down at the war table, looking far more tired than she let on and scribbling note after note as she adjusted the pieces upon their map of Thedas. A piece with bells towards Nevarra, two pieces with nightingales towards the Emprise- Cassandra felt herself smile softly at seeing their leader pick up one of the pieces representative of their forces ever so carefully and direct it towards the Hinterlands, reconstruction efforts if she remembered correctly. Cullen would be more than happy to lend his soldiers there after several arduous campaigns in the Frostbacks. Their leader’s soft spot for their Commander would not go unnoticed for long but, Cassandra adored that the two could get so caught up in their own world, just like in stories. But, letting the Inquisitor get lost while planning troop movements would do no good, not alone and with such a melancholy expression. They could do so together. Friends shouldered each others burdens, it was the least Cassandra could offer.

Varric had seen a lot of shit from his time in Kirkwall to joining the Inquisition. Turns out he had a habit of following the weird shit into even weirder shit. First a trip to the Deep Roads, then Qunari invasion, the Chantry getting blown up by Blondie, Meredith losing her mind- and then there was the Maker damned hole in the sky. That was great. Really. Not like he wanted a break after all the chaos with Hawke. Then along comes another mage with the Seeker and he just knows that this one’s gonna be it. Aside from the glowing mark on her hand, the kid just had that same look in her eye that Hawke always did before he went running into this danger or that. He half expected the words ‘Let’s go to the Bone Pit again’ to fall right out when she first opened her mouth. But heroes don’t get happy endings, and this poor kid wants to be a hero. He sees it as she goes running around across Fereldan and Orlais, trying to keep the world from falling apart through sheer force of will and some seriously persuasive puppy dog eyes. Literally puppy dog eyes in the case of those four huge mabari of hers, that was a story he’d definitely write to Hawke about- Garret would be green as envy at the idea that someone had four of the dogs imprinted on them. Maker knows it’d have him dragging Anders and Fenris all the way from wherever they’d run just to see if Varric’d been bluffing.  He’s along on the mission to Redcliffe when the Herald and Sparkler vanish and reappear like a failed rogue’s smoke bomb. He sees that look of hers when she turns to the magister, how Sparkler had to hold her back from something. Remembers seeing the same look on his friends after the Chanty went sky high and Blondie just sank right down on a box to await judgement. So he keeps an eye on her and watches carefully. Sure, she winds up earning a nickname of her own (Birdy, half because of Bull drunkenly calling her a songbird one time and making Evangeline flush bright red and half because of how excited she was to be free as a bird- damn near floating on air even as they trudge through the muck of Crestwood) but she’s nothing like Blondie, doesn’t go turning to anything from the Fade for help. In fact, she’s almost as bad as he is about asking for it. She’s busy with the Inquisition but he still catches her up far past the time any sane person should be awake, notices how she watches them all like a hawk, and how she seemed to have developed one hell of a personal vendetta against red lyrium seemingly overnight. Haven damn near breaks her. The Chantry was bad, but nowhere near as bad as Haven was. Nobody they knew was in there save for the Grand Cleric but even then only Sebastian really cared for her. Haven- Birdy dropped a mountain on herself and somehow lived to tell the tale. Buried their home and nearly died but got right up and marched them all to Skyhold. Took on the title of Inquisitor with more grace than he’d thought anyone could manage then set them all to work readying for the next steps to defeating Corypheus. Turns out she and Hawke got on like a house on fire, a dangerous combo. Especially when those two started talking about new spells and how to wield staffs as melee weapons. While one grew up in a circle and the other as an apostate, they swapped stories like they’d known each other for years and not just hours. It made Varric puff up a little with pride, seeing those two just get to relax and have someone else around who got it. (Well, right before he went back to hiding from Cassandra’s wrath) It’s when he sits down to write that he really takes stock of things. Birdy was one hell of a mage, and she commanded the Inquisition with ease that belied how she’d been raised noble before her magic showed. She was scared shitless though, and he knows something happened in Redcliffe that not even Sparkler gave up the details for. Something that makes her look at all of them like she’s seeing ghosts; he’s definitely seen how she recoiled away whenever some new hopeful vows to give their life for the Herald- and he slowly pieces it together from there. So when ‘This Shit is Weird’ actually comes out after the Exalted Council, he hand delivers a copy to her and Curly at their place just outside of Kirkwall. Lets her flip through it and watches as he always has. Varric knows that Evangeline found his note when she can’t quite hold the book steady anymore and lets it drop into her lap as a huge grin stretches across her face. She’s complaining about him making her cry even after launching at him to wrap him in the strongest one-armed hug he’s ever had. Because sometimes, heroes actually get their happy endings and he’s so, so glad that she proved him wrong.

[legit-scam-review]

Blythe Masters Looks Beyond Finance for Next Wave of Blockchain Growth

To hear Blythe Masters tell it, the time has come for Digital Asset (DA) to spread its wings and fly.

The distributed ledger technology (DLT) company she founded in 2014 is entering a new phase, heralded by, among other things, a partnership with Google Cloud to simplify and proliferate the tech.

To date, DA’s strategy has stood out among the big enterprise blockchain players for its laser-like focus. Instead of spending a lot of time on consortiums, proofs-of-concept and the like, the New York-based company concentrated on landing the one big fish.

It achieved that goal late last year when the Australian Securities Exchange (ASX) officially hired DA to replace its creaky Clearing House Electronic Subregister System (CHESS), a multi-year project that’s currently underway.

Now, having earned the rare distinction of a bona fide production customer, Masters’ startup wants to foster an ecosystem around its Digital Asset Modeling Language (DAML), which is about to become available with a software development kit (SDK) via Google Cloud.

“Having spent three and a half years in the design-and-build phase, this is the ‘open up and educate’ phase and [the time to] build a community of channel partners and developers,” Masters told CoinDesk.

This, in turn, will open a vast range of opportunities for DA, she said – both within the financial services industry where Masters spent most of her career and outside it.

“The application of this technology is by no means limited to the world’s biggest market infrastructures,” the former JPMorgan Chase executive said, adding:

“It goes well throughout financial services, well beyond capital markets and beyond financial services into all the other industries that have a vested interest in improving the efficiency of their workflow orchestration.”

According to Masters, there is “a lot of pent-up demand” for DA’s technology which the cloud-based DAML SDK can start to meet and a “potential addressable market that is almost unmeasurable.”

To give a sense of the breadth of this market, Masters rattled off a litany of new pastures for DA, including: healthcare and insurance claims; digital media rights; royalty streams; real estate; lending and collateral management within capital markets, derivatives post-trade, securities post-trade, reference data, supply chain, crypto wallet custody of assets and more.

However, Masters was careful to qualify this, acknowledging the fatigue felt in many corners following the blockchain hype of a few years ago.

“I think there was some fair criticism that blockchain was a technology solution looking for a problem to solve,” she said. “But our approach has very much been to work with customers to identify the problem first and sometimes not to recommend a DLT solution.”

‘Web-paced innovation’

The DA team recently returned from San Francisco, where Masters and Shaul Kfir, DA’s CTO, gave a talk on DLT partnerships at the Google Cloud Next conference.

The primary aim of the Google Cloud partnership is to make it easier for developers to deploy DA’s tech, which Masters describes as “a mission to unleash web-paced innovation across multiple industries.”

This means abstracting away the underlying complexity of the cryptography, the data architecture, the blockchain or DLT state engine, said Masters.

The Google Cloud-DA partnership appears to run deep as well as wide. To help drive the DAML platform-as-a-service (PaaS) program, DA has also welcomed former Google engineering executive AG Gangadhar to its board.

And adding to the symbiosis, Google Cloud has joined DA’s developer program private beta, giving Google Cloud developers access to DAML.

“The DLT space has garnered extraordinary enthusiasm and Google’s developers and its customers are no less curious and motivated in this space than any others,” said Masters.

It’s now clear Google is getting serious about blockchain following candid comments last month from co-founder Sergey Brin that the search giant was playing catch up with the blockchain trend.

Google would not comment on the partnership or DLT generally, but an insider close to the DA-Google Cloud partnership confirmed to CoinDesk, “All of Google has access to the DAML SDK, and this includes Alphabet,” Google’s holding company, which has portfolio companies in a wide range of industries.

But not every influential figure in Mountain View is a blockchain convert. CoinDesk asked Google’s chief internet evangelist, Vint Cerf, if he thought tokens could perhaps be used to incentivize users and align them with the goals of tech platforms.

Cerf, who was not commenting on the DA partnership but on cryptocurrency generally, replied in a curt email: “Not clear yet. It could just turn into a speculation like tulip bulbs and bitcoin.”

Still, Masters said DA and Google share a common approach to solving engineering problems and “a focus on empowerment of enterprise customers, particularly in the workflow orchestration space that we have in common. So that is where the enthusiasm is coming from.”

Maverick Masters

To be sure, DA is far from alone among enterprise blockchain vendors in trying to expanding its ecosystem.

For instance, IBM and Hyperledger are hard at work exploring what they can do with partnerships. Meanwhile, a recent announcement from banking blockchain consortium R3 talked up the potential for its Corda platform to be interoperable across a wide range of industries.

There has also been an increase in blockchain-as-a-service announcements of late. BlockApps Strato has also been welcomed onto Google Cloud, while Amazon Cloud Services (AWS) recently cemented a partnership with ethereum design studio Consensys in the form of the Kaleido project.

But Masters pointed out that DA has always charted its own course, adding that the company’s strategy remains unchanged.

“It’s where we always intended to focus,” she said, referring to the new priority on building a developer ecosystem. “We just didn’t approach it via the same avenue necessarily as everyone else.”

Aside from ASX, other customers DA has publicly disclosed it is working with are the U.S. clearing and settlement giant DTCC and Dutch megabank ABN Amro.

Another thing enterprise blockchain watchers seem to be interested in is a possible amalgamation between private or permissioned DLTs and public chains, with their fluidity of tokenized assets.  

Asked for her opinion on the nascent token economy and where it might bleed into the enterprise world, Masters said she is “not ruling out tokens by any means.”

She agreed there is lots of good research and development work being done on this, but said the institutional use of enterprise tokens requires enterprise-grade command-and-control infrastructure.

“It won’t be until the kind of controls you routinely expect around transactions and post-trade processing of a stock or bond today can also be produced for the transaction of a tokenized instrument – whether it’s a stock or a bond or a cryptocurrency – that we will see widespread enterprise adoption of tokenized instruments that rely on public chain technologies.”

Ever the hard-headed businessperson, Masters would not be drawn on the merits or otherwise of one DLT architecture versus another, but answered categorically all the same when she said:

“What I believe in is our technology. I don’t mix philosophy or religion with technology. I believe in solving business problems using tech in a cost-effective and safe manner.”

Blythe Masters mage via CoinDesk archives 

The leader in blockchain news, CoinDesk is a media outlet that strives for the highest journalistic standards and abides by a strict set of editorial policies. CoinDesk is an independent operating subsidiary of Digital Currency Group, which invests in cryptocurrencies and blockchain startups.

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[talesfromthefade]

Sonja Hawke x Anders (Anders POV) || SFW || angst, hurt & comfort || 2105 words

The band feels heavy in the pocket of his robes. Every now and again- more and more often in recent weeks- the mage will plunge his hand into his pocket to twirl the little piece of metal, or smooth his fingers over the small stones. It’s easily the most expensive purchase he’s ever made, and quite possibly the most foolish. He still doesn’t know what possessed him to buy it. Justice disapproved, of course, just as he’d done from the start when the healer had finally given in to Sonja Hawke’s advances.

Selfish, he thinks, scolding himself as fingers close tighter around the ring, letting the stones bite into his palm a little to punish himself. He should have listened to the spirit. Should never have let her in. He should have broken things off with her as soon as he’d determined there was no peaceful way of changing the fate of his fellow mages. Instead, Maker help him, like the hopeless and romantic fool he is, he’d bought a ring.

It feels even heavier now, like the weight of the world now he’s realized the full truth of it as he sits on a crate in the middle of Hightown under the gaze of his lover and all their friends as the Chantry and parts of Kirkwall burn around them. He’d bought it because he loves her- has done for years- perhaps even from those first few months of getting to know one another. He’d bought it because he can’t imagine being with anyone else anymore, because he doesn’t want to. He’d bought it because he wants to spend the rest of his days, his nights, his life, with her. He’d bought it because, despite the certainty he doesn’t deserve to and has perhaps never deserved her less, he wants to live. Wants a future. And one with her in it. Stupid, selfish fool, he thinks again, avoiding her gaze and staring determinedly instead at the stone street beneath his feet.

He’s not sure whether Meredith and Orsino leaving his fate in the hands of her and her twin is a mercy, or punishment for all the trouble the Hawke twins have caused in their tenure in the city. If he must give his life for what he’s done, it will have been worth it to know one day mages might live happy and free. He’s not in a position to ask anything of either of them, he knows whoever’s hands deliver the killing blow will be mercifully swift, but he hopes Garrett’s protective instincts will spare his lover the task of his blood on her hands.

“There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t already said to myself,” Anders says finally, shaking his head. “I took a spirit into my soul and changed myself forever to achieve this. This is the Justice all mages have awaited.”

“Did that spirit tell you to do this,” Sonja asks, words almost choked out by the weight of the emotion behind them. He knows why- what she is asking this for, but he cannot bring himself to hide behind Justice. He will face what he’s done, if it is the last thing he ever does.

“No. When we merged, he ceased to be. We are one now. I can no more ignore the injustice of the Circle than he could.” He knows she won’t believe him. Knows that no one has hoped or looked harder for a way to free the two of them from one another. But he also knows, even should she have somehow managed to find a way to get the spirit out of his head and body, he’s been forever changed for having shared it with him. His hands did this. Willingly. He won’t pretend otherwise now, even if it would save his life.

“I might have understood, if you’d only told me,” she replies softly with a heartbroken frown that hurts to look upon, but Anders forces himself to anyway.

“You condone this,” Sebastian interjects surprised, and disapproving. “The brutal death of an innocent woman of faith? Someone you knew! Who trusted you!”

“I wanted to tell you,” Anders admits mournfully. “But what if you stopped me? Or worse, what if you wanted to help? I couldn’t let you do that,” the mage continues shaking his head once more.

“You really think this is the answer,” his lover asks, pained.

“Things can’t stay as they are. The people fear what we can do, but to use that fear to bludgeon us into submission is wrong! And they do it with our blessing! The world needs to see this. Then we can all stop pretending the Circle is a solution. And if I pay for that with my life… then I pay. Perhaps then Justice would at least be free.”

“Opinions,” Garrett asks the rest of their companions at large.

“If I’d been in that Chantry today, would you be waffling? You know what must be done,” Sebastian replies angrily.

“Bold plan. Well, I thought so,” Isabela assesses with a nod.

“He wants to die. Kill him and be done with it,” Fenris growls under his breath where he reluctantly stands at the younger twin’s side, though it’s clear he would be more than happy to take on the job should his lover allow or anyone ask it of him.

“Belief is no excuse. Sincerity does not justify… this,” Aveline chimes in, shaking her head.

“He should come with us,” Merrill suggests, frowning. “Do what he can to put things right.”

“I think I’m sick of mages and Templars,” Varric grumbles.

“Whatever you do, just do it,” the mage concludes, resigned to whatever fate they may determine is right for him.

“Help me defend the mages,” Sonja pleads softly.

“You mean… stay with you,” Anders replies, eyes wide as he rises to his feet, and turns to meet his lover’s gaze once more. “I didn’t think you’d let me. But if you do… I’ll fight the Templars. Damned right I will.”

“No,” Sebastian shouts. “You cannot allow this abomination to walk free. He dies, or I am returning to Starkhaven and I will bring such an army with me on my return that there will be nothing left of Kirkwall for these Malifcarum to rule.”

“Sebastian,” Garrett cautions, with a meaningful nod towards his younger twin where she stands beside a still silent Anders. Fists clenched and trembling at the other man’s words.

“I will not fight you, Hawke. My death now would serve nothing. I will return to Starkhaven, but I swear to you I will come back and find your precious Anders. I will teach him what true ‘Justice’ is,” Sebastian promises seething.

Sonja moves with ever the same quickness and grace she always has, that he has always admired: cat-like and nearly too quick for even the best eyes to track. She’s drawn a small blade from her hip and holds it across Sebastian’s throat before anyone has a chance to react. The eyes of her brother and their companions all wide-eyed, anxiously transfixed on the scene in front of them.

“Take it back,” she growls, eyes flashing, positively feral. “Take it back now, and you can still walk away from all this.”

“Sonja,” Garrett calls out to her, eyes full of equal parts fear and concern for his sibling from where he stands trying to soothe and hold back his own furious lover from attacking the mage, Fenris’ glaring daggers into Ander’s back. But Sonja shakes her head.

“No,” she replies loudly. “Innocents died today, but the Grand Cleric wasn’t one of them,” she asserts fiercely, glaring back at Sebastian, pressing the knife flush against his adam’s apple, daring him to challenge her. “She knew the abuses mages suffered here, knew what that crazy bitch, Meredith was doing. And she did nothing. Whatever good she may have done, may have preached, we are all of the Maker- mages, or no. Elthina turned her back on his children when they needed her most. She made herself blind and deaf, because it was easier. She made her bed.”

Sebastian’s eyes burn with a similar kind of fury at her pronouncement, but the younger woman isn’t finished, or giving him so much as an inch to protest it, and cold steel against his throat, it seems he’s wise enough to recognize it. “But you are right about one thing,” she snarls at Sebastian. “Anders is precious to me. Andraste as my witness you shall not have him. You will not touch him, so long as I draw breath,” she swears fiercely.

Anders stares, mouth agape. Justice told him once that demons are just spirits perverted by their desires. He thought it a kindness giving him a body. He took him in, and made his friend a demon. And now, Anders realizes heart impossibly heavy, he’s corrupted his lover too. She was always more a lover than a fighter. Ever a peacekeeper, avoided conflict and bloodshed whenever it was possible. Not that she was by any means any less adept at defending herself or fighting than her younger brothers, she was simply more careful about picking her battles. This, Anders thinks, however, isn’t a battle she can possibly hope to win. Nor one she should take up arms for. He deserves Sebastian’s wrath and whatever fate awaits him, far more than he has or ever will deserve her now.

“I don’t condone this,” she continues, and at these words Anders cannot help but to hang his head a little lower. “I still believe that there may have been another way, without so many innocent people hurt or caught in the middle. But it is done. But Anders’ life is not yours to take or his to forfeit. It is mine, and I won’t allow it,” she declares fiercely, slowly stepping back and lowering her knife from the other man’s throat, before stepping defensively in front of her lover to shield him from the other’s fury and any of their other companions who may wish to argue with her. Sebastian looks to Garrett, perhaps hoping the other will contradict this, be a voice of reason for his twin, but the mage is clearly conflicted. He’s never been in a Circle, but he knows enough of them, and Kirkwall’s specifically to be cautious, fearful of them and most of the Templars here, despite his usual glibness and cavalier attitude. And this is his sister, and Anders is her lover. Would he feel any differently? Would he not do everything in his power to protect and defend Fenris if somehow their roles were reversed?

“Go, if that is your design. Return to Starkhaven. But know this,” she snarls. “The next time you threaten his life, you won’t live long enough to repeat the offense.” Sebastian looks as if he wants to argue, but there really isn’t much to say that hasn’t been already, and it’s clear enough from the way she’s lowered, but still grips her dagger tight in her hands she will make good on her promise if he provides her the opportunity. Shaking his head, Sebastian takes his leave of them all without another word.

“We should get to the Gallows and quick,” Varric assesses in the silence that follows. “It’s going to be quite a show.”

“I should have trusted you,” Anders whispers softly, still rather surprised to still be standing, to be walking at her side as the group make their way to the fighting. “Even with all we’ve shared, I never thought you’d spare my life. If we live through this… you know I’ll be hunted. No one in Kirkwall will offer me mercy. But- if you would join me, I’d rather be on the run with you, than safe with anyone else.”

“Then we will be fugitives together,” Sonja promises, the softest hints of a smile at the corners of her mouth, as she takes her hand gently in her own and squeezes, holding it as they quickly continue to make their way to the Gallows.

It’s possibly more foolish now than it has ever been, even now the most immediate threat to his life has been spared. There’s not a man or woman in Thedas that won’t soon know what he looks like. Not a soul who would be brave or stupid enough to marry them, even if he’s more than certain of her answer now. But with his lover at his side, her hand clasped and fingers laced with his, the ring suddenly doesn’t feel quite so heavy in his pocket anymore as it was before.