#the sun is based on how it looks in the korcari wilds

[across-stars]

Dragon Age cover page from my bujo, mainly based on da2 loading screen for chateau Haine

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [864]

“Do I know you?”

It’s not a question Bull has to ask a lot. He’s got a memory for faces and voices, a memory for bodies and people. But there’s something strange about Ellana Lavellan. He’s not sure what he was expecting when he heard that Evelyn Trevelyan had sent for help.

There’s a fucking hole in the sky that shits out demons. Who do you call for that?

Ellana Lavellan, apparently. A mage that — she doesn’t feel like a mage. She doesn’t fight like a mage. She doesn’t feel or fight like anyone Bull’s ever met before. Except for the fact that she feels familiar. Something about her nags at him, pulls at the edges of his consciousness. She snags on the edges of his mind and refuses to come loose. Either forgotten entirely or remembered in full.

The woman turns to him, wrapped up in her fur and her long fine cloak that should swallow her but somehow makes her seem taller. Bigger. More incomprehensible.

That’s another thing. She doesn’t look like any elf Bull has ever met before, either. Bull doesn’t know elves that dress that fine. Not even the ones who somehow married well dress that fine.

Ellana Lavellan’s cloak is embroidered along the edges in gold, or something similar to it based on the way it catches light. It’s not new, he can tell that it’s rather old, but it’s been cared for. Her armor is made of some kind of silverite, and the leather — well. Bull wants to say that it’s dragon scale but he hasn’t gotten to check and he doesn’t know what he’d do with the answer if he asked.

She carries a sword. And a fine bow that looks — it doesn’t even look like a bow, really. It looks like a branch she cut off a tree but he’s seen it when strung and he’s seen her shoot with it so he knows it’s a bow. But he’s never seen one like it before.

“Not yet,” Lavellan answers. Her eyes are laughing at him, but he doesn’t feel any malice there. Anything mean. She just seems that way.

When she arrived at Haven, unannounced and impossibly unencumbered by any luggage and unaided by any creature, she looked that way too. She looked right at the Trevelyans, the same kind of laugh in her eyes, and she smiled and said something Bull still doesn’t understand. He’s not sure if he somehow wasn’t hearing her right or if it means something else. She had said to them, “Wasn’t one adventure enough? Did you miss me in your dreams so much?”

Now, with those laughing eyes turned on him she asks, “Do you feel like you should?”

“Yes,” Bull answers. “You feel familiar.”

Lavellan’s smile broadens. “Perhaps you know me from a dream.”

Bull stares into her eyes. “I think I would remember if I ever dreamed someone like you.”

“I do feel familiar to you, so perhaps you do,” she points out. “Does it displease you?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Bull replies. “Where are you from?”

“You wouldn’t know it,” she says.

Bull raises his eyebrows, allowing the disbelief to show across his face.

Lavellan turns away from him raising her hand and pointing south. “Do you know the Korcari Wilds?”

“Yes, though I’ve never been that far south myself.”

“Travel through the Korcari Wilds, deep, deep into the forest. So far that even the Frostbacks can no longer severe it from the Arbor Wilds, where all of those trees share one root and every single river shares the same heart. Further than that, until you’ve glimpsed the sun off of the Sundered sea, and even further to a land that does not care for any name. And then you would be close enough to where I come from, I suppose.”

“Close enough?”

Lavellan turns back to him, hand lowering and disappearing into her cloak once more. Her smile remains, though.

“I am from a place that does not care for names or boundaries. Everything is what can be seen and felt. It is all just one forest, it is all just one river, and it is all just one sky. The Chantry and the wars and the trifles of the people here are nothing but whispers in leaves. Curious happenings playing out for us to someday dream about.” Her gaze turns searching as she watches his face for reactions. “And apparently, the people here sometimes dream about us there. Who knew?”

“For someone who’s from somewhere so far away that you guys only dream about the rest of Thedas you got here pretty quick. How do you know the Trevelyans exactly?”

“Ah, I’m from there, but I wasn’t coming from there.” Lavellan shakes her head. “I was in the Brecilian. I wanted to see the ocean from that side. As for how I met the Trevelyans — the same way you and I met. In a dream.” Lavellan’s smile is playful, and for all that the words should be unsettling they don’t land that way no matter how Bull examines them. “Max and Lynn saved my life. Or perhaps it’s better to say that they’re the ones who started it? If you asked them I think they would say the same. We are each other’s beginnings. My life could not begin until they were there.”

Well that’s one headache of an answer.

“Does everyone talk like you where you’re from? Because I can only imagine that it must be a pain in the ass to get one straight answer.”

Lavellan laughs. “If you had hair and if you met my brother I think you’d pull it all out. I’m actually rather straightforward, I think, compared to the rest of my family. My father especially has such a terrible time about it. Whenever he and my brother talk it’s a real show to watch. Do I frustrate you, the Iron Bull?”

“Something like that, Lavellan,” Bull admits. “I haven’t decided.”

“Ah, then I’ve got some time to win you over,” Lavellan says. “I shall do my utmost best to win you over with as much charm as I can muster. Is it a tall task, do you think? Or am I already doing well? Don’t tell me. It was rhetorical. I’ll find out when I find out and not a second sooner.”

[queen-of-the-crows]

Survivors of Ostagar

Mina Cousland, Clea Mahariel, Alistair, and Morrigan

word count: 2912

It was early afternoon before the remaining two Ferelden Grey Wardens along with Morrigan, a Witch of the Wilds, left Flemeth’s hut in the Korcari Wilds after she rescued them from the Darkspawn at the Tower of Ishal. The battle at Ostagar was two days lost by this point after Teyrn Logain’s men abandoned the king’s army and the Grey Wardens and leaving them at the mercy of the Darkspawn who laid siege to Ostagar and took out everyone, extinguishing all hopes of ending the Blight then and there. The only two Wardens to survive only did so because they were sent to light the signal fire instead of joining the battle on the ground, it was there in the tower that Flemeth rescued them after the Darkspawn broke through stating that the Darkspawn threatened everyone including her and only the Wardens could stop them and that is why she saved them and sent her daughter Morrigan along with them to aid them in their quest to recruit an army, slay the archdemon, and save all of Ferelden.

               Of the two Wardens left alive, one was a new recruit who knew hardly anything of the order and the other was still only a junior member. Alistair was the more senior member of the order. He was a young man of 20 who was raised in the Chantry and was formerly a Templar before Duncan recruited him into the Grey Wardens. He was still reeling over Duncan’s death as he was like a father to him and felt like he abandoned him but not being on the battlefield. He had been silent most of the walk causing the other Warden to watch him carefully as he had not been this silent the whole time that she had known him which admitted wasn’t more than a couple weeks.

The new recruit, the now junior member of the order was a young woman also of 20 by the name of Mina Cousland. She was the youngest child of Teryn Bryce Cousland and was recruited into the Warden’s once Arl Howe murdered her entire family and she alone escaped with Duncan. Duncan had come to her home hoping for more recruits for the coming war and was taken by Lady Mina who had been trained from a young age by her father and brother to be a warrior and that she was, outdoing many of the men in her father’s army. Mina’s father had originally forbidden Mina from joining the order since he didn’t want her to join her brother Fergus in the war to come. His mind was only changed once Duncan promised to take Mina to safety and her father promised his daughter aid in fighting the Darkspawn, Mina’s joy was only overwhelmed by her sadness at the loss of her parents and possibly her brother. Duncan made good on his promise and took Mina to safety and then on to Ostagar while Arl Howe destroyed her family’s home. There at Ostagar was where she met Alistair who oversaw her joining much as he had done for the weeks before with all the new recruits. Everyone at Ostagar seemed to take notice of Mina as she was just as beautiful as she was powerful. Mina had short thick hair that hung down to her shoulders and was the deep rich dark brown of chocolate. Her eyes were a deep piercing ocean blue that seemed to suck in all who caught her gaze and appeared all the brighter for her dark hair and her light skin that seemed to hardly ever seen the sun despite the time she spent outside training. The only thing people seemed to find more shocking than her beauty was her skill with a blade, or two blades as the case was for her. Mina’s weapons of choice were a longsword and a dagger with a twisted blade. She was fast and she was deadly and she struck hard. In the short time she had been at Ostagar, she had bested many soldiers while sparring and caused many others to refuse to engage her. Many people looked to her to eventually take a general’s position once everything was settled but the chance was never given. Everyone fell leaving only her and Alistair to recruit an army and defeat the Blight as well as outing Logain for the traitor that was he and keeping him from the throne that was left vacate by King Cailian Theirin’s death at the hands of the Darkspawn.

“Alistair, you can’t brood forever. It’s getting rather dull.” Morrigan quipped soon getting bored of hearing nothing but their footfalls and the sounds of the Wilds as they made their way towards a small town on the outskirts of the Wilds called Lothering at Morrigan’s suggestion.

Alistair chose to ignore her instead of fighting with her as he would have under other circumstances. Mina glanced to him and saw the sadness in his hazel eyes and decided to leave him to his grief for the time being. Morrigan was about to open her mouth to say something else when Mina reached her hand out and shushed her. “Did you hear that?” She reached behind her back and withdrew her sword and dagger. She heard Alistair do the same as she looked around for the source of the noise that she had determined was a human voice.

“It sounds human to me.” Morrigan commented as she raised her staff.

Mina nodded. “I agree.” She scanned the treeline looking for any signs of life.

Alistair began walking towards what appeared to be the source of the noise. “Over here!” He yelled, the first words he had spoken since leaving Flemeth’s hut. He sheathed his sword as Mina approached him and also sheathed her dagger but still held her sword as she followed Alistair’s gaze to what appeared to a woman hunched over on the ground at the base of a tree partially hidden by some bushes. They would not have noticed her if she hadn’t moved.  Mina lightly kick the woman’s leg and she twitched and groaned in pain. Mina sheathed her sword and instead crouched down to look over the woman.

The woman wasn’t human at all but was actually an elf, most likely Dalish due to the gold tattooing that framed her delicate face. She was also most likely a rogue due the bow and quiver of arrows strapped to her back and the dagger that Mina noticed on her back at the waist. She had long black hair that had originally been tied into a tight bun but was now falling loose and tumbling down her back. Her eyes were barely open but Mina could see that they were a vibrant green and her pale skin contrasted greatly with her black as night hair. She was wearing what Mina guessed was traditional Dalish armor because she had never seen anything like it before.

“Help me.” She coughed. She had a very light voice with a somewhat mystical quality to it that many elves seemed to hold, light and airy.

Mina followed the elf’s arm to where her hand rested on her bare stomach covered in blood no doubt from the wound that she was protecting in her side. “What happened to you?” Mina asked her as Alistair crouched down beside her and pulled bandages from his pack to bandage her wound and stop the bleeding. Mina also noticed some more much smaller holes in the woman’s shoulders and upper chest and one in her thigh, no doubt left from arrows that she had pulled free herself.  

“Darkspawn. I was at Ostagar. I’m a Grey Warden”

Mina looked shocked as she looked into the young woman’s face. She couldn’t be much older than Mina herself was and she knew that she didn’t recall seeing a beautiful raven haired elf at Ostagar, let alone even a single Dalish elf. Alistair’s hands stilled at her words and he looked up from his bandaging and caught her eyes instead.

“I remember you. Duncan recruited you from a Dalish clan to the north, said that you had the sickness and brought you to us to save your life and also cause you were the best hunter in your clan according to your keeper. She’s telling the truth. I oversaw her Joining weeks ago, back when Duncan and Cailan first started to amass their army at Ostager.”

“She was there for weeks? How come I never met her then? I was there long enough to see many people but never her. I think I would have remembered seeing one of the Dalish.” Mina still seemed skeptical despite Alistair’s insistence she was telling the truth.

“I stayed with the soldiers and never ventured out into the main camp after my joining. I stayed and trained and engaged no one. Even being one of the Wardens, the soldiers would give me looks like I didn’t belong. I kept to myself.” The woman spoke up.

“You were new to the Wardens and wouldn’t have been allowed to make camp with the rest of our soldiers because Duncan still had much to teach you and much to tell you. Same with all new recruits. The difference was that Darkspawn came, the battle started, and there was never a chance.” Alistair finished her bandages and helped her to her feet.

Mina nodded. It all made sense. So her and Alistair weren’t the only remaining Wardens after all, not that she thought one more of them would make much of a difference anyway, they were hardly an army. “I’m Mina, Mina Cousland. This is Alistair in case you never caught his name and this is Morrigan.” She gestured to where Morrigan stood outside their little circle just watching but saying nothing.

“My name is Clea Mahariel, adarin atishan.” Clea greeted them in elven, showing that they were friends, welcoming them.

“Hopefully this one shows more promise than Alistair.” Morrigan told her in greeting earning her a glare from Alistair and a look that told her to be nice from Mina.

“You were in the battle then?” Mina asked, slowly coming to the realization of exactly what that meant.

Clea’s bright green eyes grew dark and sad, her face shadowed. “Yes I was there.” She stated simply, not volunteering anything else.

Alistair perked up this, his eyes gaining a light they hadn’t had since waking up in Flemeth’s hut. “You were in the battle and you survived! Did you see what happened to Duncan?! Did he survive?!” Alistair probably would have grabbed her shoulders in his desperation if Mina hadn’t reached a hand out and lightly touched his forearm.

The elf’s face told him all he needed to know and just as quickly as the light returned his eyes, it vanished.

“Tell me what happened, please I have to know.” He almost begged her.

“Trust me Alistair, the battle was a bloodbath, you don’t what to know the details of what happened out there.”

“I do! Duncan was family to me, I have to know.”

“If you’re sure, if you’re both sure, I’ll tell you what happened.” Clea said sounding resigned. Ostagar wasn’t something she wanted to relive and it certainly wasn’t something she wanted to talk about to someone who had cared so deeply for someone who died there. The horror of the battlefield of Ostagar was something that would haunt her dreams for as long as she lived.

Clea Mahariel signed and pulled her long hair loose letting it fall down her back and around her face, almost as a curtain against the story she was about to tell. “It started out just as we all knew it would, King Cailan sent out the hounds and gave the order to loose the arrows. Darkspawn started to fall but it seemed that just as quickly more came from the wilds. It was then he called for the attack, his army and the Wardens to charge the darkspawn ranks and that we did. Intially we appeared to have the advantage, each one of us took out a slew of those monsters but every one we killed, there were two more who would appear. We all waited anxiously for the signal fire that seemed to take ages to light, everyone covered in sweat and blood, most of us thinking the next parrying would kill us.”

By now the small band had stopped walking and even Morrigan seemed focused on the tale being told. Mina’s mabari, Lucifer, also sat attentively at her feet watching the elven woman with his large dark eyes. Clea lifted her eyes from Lucifer and instead raised them to meet Alistair’s for the first time since starting her tale. The anticipation she found there brought a small lump to her throat knowing that what she knew would break his heart all over again and Clea didn’t take joy in being cruel.

It was with a heavy heart that continued her story. “When the signal fire finally went up, the relief was evident on everyone’s face; some people were even smiling. Loghain’s army was joining the fight, we stood a chance again. Except they never came. As the fire continued to burn and the army didn’t show themselves, the hope slowly died on everyone’s face and was replaced with despair and a sense that we all knew we were doomed.”

Clea paused and drew a deep breath to steady herself for what she needed to tell next, the hard part of the story. “That was when the ogre grabbed the king from the field. He roared in his face, like an act of defiance and then crushed his body in his fist. Your king was already dead by the time his body hit the ground; even his heavy gilded armor held the imprint of the creature’s fist. Duncan saw it all go down and moved his attack in the ogre’s direction. He leaped at the creature and buried both of his blades into its heart and twisted. The creature in its dying rage threw him aside. When he hit the ground he didn’t get back up, he was too badly wounded from injuries he had already taken. I ran to him, even called for a healer, but there was nothing anyone could do, he was already gone. He died avenging his king and killing darkspawn, I don’t think he would have had it any other way. When I looked around I saw much the same every where else on the field, soldiers dying, fewer and fewer still able to fight. Then I took a darkspawn arrow to my shoulder and another to my chest. One pierced my thigh as I was attempting to pull the others free and I just missed one shooting through my hand before my shoulder. It was only feeling the slice of a darkspawn sword against my side that took my mind from the arrows. It burned red hot for only a second before it was too much and I passed out. When I finally came to, the battle was done and we had lost. The darkspawn had quit the field but I could hear them not far off. The majority of the horde had moved off together but I still heard others back at the ruins of the camp. I wrapped my side as best I could and stumbled into the wilds just trying to put as much distance between myself and that place as I could and I made it here to where you found me.”

Alistair was trying his best not to cry but his efforts were in vain as the tears fell silently. Mina’s eyes were misted over as well as she placed a comforting hand on the young warden’s arm.

“I’m so sorry Alistair, I told you that you didn’t want to hear it.” Clea told him softly finding it hard to look at the pain in his face and turned her gaze to Mina instead.

“You were right, I didn’t but I think I needed to. Can we just move on now? I don’t want to think on it in this dreadful place any longer.” Alistair was already continuing on their intended path as he spoke, not waiting for any of the others to join him.

“I’ll go to him.” Mina said shaking the sadness from her face. Her admission wasn’t necessary as neither Morrigan nor Clea were going to volunteer. Instead the two of them continued further back and out of earshot.

“Tis remarkable that you survived at all without a healers aid.” Morrigan remarked once Mina was gone.

“The Dalish know quite a lot about bandaging and healing wounds, especially hunters. You don’t want to be stranded in the forest after taking a wound from a wolf or bear and not know how to bandage it enough to keep you alive for a couple days. I wouldn’t have lasted much longer had you not come along though. I had accepted my fate.”

“It seems that fate had not accepted your death.”

“So it does. I’m sure there will be many more things to come that will give fate a chance to change its mind.” Clea said, feeling lighter now that Mina and Alistair had moved on ahead and a dark cloud no longer hung over her.

Morrigan chuckled at that, thinking that she actually liked their new companion. “Of that I have no doubt.”

  ?

[of-storms-and-saints-blog]

Blood on the Trail

Shielded in Flame Part 01: Tainted Hero Chapter 7: Blood on the Trail

“Oh, now that is just unnecessary.” Alistair gazed at a large fallen tree. The suspended tree acted as a natural bridge between two large rocky hills. Fallen soldiers swung down from the trunk and branches. The trail the company had been following passed underneath. Alistair shook his head. “Poor sods.”

“We should cut them down,” Ser Jory suggested.

“Aye.” Brina felt uneasy. “We should be quick. This is the first real sign of nightgangers we've encountered all day.”

"Nightgangers?" Alistair raised an eyebrow.

Brina sighed. "Darkspawn."

“Ah, True. There are some darkspawn close by.” Alistair led the way around the back of one hill, searching for a more accessible path. He stopped suddenly, looked back at the group and put a finger to his lips.

The others nodded, and they all quietly drew their weapons. They picked their way carefully to the top.

Alistair held up a hand, and they stopped. “Where are they?” He said to himself. “Cover me.” He pulled out a dagger and carefully made his way across the tree trunk. He sat, straddling the tree, and began cutting through the ropes. Brina, Daveth, and Jory glanced around them watching for signs of movement.

After the last body dropped, Alistair slowly made his way back. He stood quietly with his hand up, listening. He scanned the ground before glancing up at them, mouthing, “Get ready.”

For a moment, wind through the trees was the only sound Brina could hear. What is that sound? A strange . . . Rumbling?

Behind them, three darkspawn broke free from the ground. They were the size of dwarves. Two carried dual daggers, and the third had a bow.

"Genlocks! Watch your backs!" Alistair spun to keep his back to his companions.

All three Genlocks disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.

Where'd they go? Wait . . . What is that? She caught a glimpse of something shimmering near Ser Jory. There you are.

She threw a light shard. It flew inches from Ser Jory's chest. He jumped back in surprise. The shard pierced the darkspawn square between the eyes, and the darkspawn dropped to the ground.

Jory whipped his head back and forth between Brina and the dead darkspawn. “How did you see that?”

“They aren't completely invisible.”

“Look out!” Daveth threw a dagger, hitting another behind Alistair.

Alistair nodded in thanks. “The third Genlock is still around with a bow.”

“Watch this and cover me.” Brina circled her staff above her head. Within seconds, clouds full of snow appeared. The snowflakes blew around, sticking to everything in the vicinity.

“Wait, look, the snow is sticking to something there,” Jory said, pointing.

With some effort, Brina closed her other hand into a fist. Ice formed, encasing the Genlock. She wasn't fast enough. The Genlock released an arrow before being completely frozen. The bolt struck Brina's shoulder.

She cried out, dropping her staff.

“Brina! Are you all right?” Alistair sheathed his sword and dropped his shield.

Jory went to Brina, examining the entry and exit of the arrow. “It's deep.”

Brina gasped. “Did it go all the way through? I can't tell.”

“Not quite . . .” Daveth made a face.

“I can feel the tip of the point, right here.” Jory helped shift some of Brina’s outer layers.

“Then we'll have to push it through.” Alistair knelt down in front of her, his eyes locked reassuringly with hers. “Are you ready?”

Brina took a deep breath and nodded.

Alistair gripped the arrow. “Hold her steady.”

Daveth held her uninjured arm and shoulder. Jory took her other arm and braced her back.

“Ready? One-” Alistair pushed the arrow a few inches.

Brina yelled out and grunted. “Bronto's ass . . .”

Alistair smirked. “You know it's easier that way.”

“Still . . . shit.”

“All right, let's break the head off, and we can pull it back through.”

Brina leaned forward. Jory supported her weight and held the arrow at the base where it protruded from her shoulder. She took a sharp breath when Alistair broke the head off. “Son of a nug.”

“Okay . . . Jory, Daveth, brace her again.” In one swift pull, the shaft was out. Brina let out a long groan. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Alistair put a hand on her other shoulder. “Can you move your arm, Brina?”

She wiggled and bent her fingers, turned her wrist and forearm. Her elbow took more effort to bend. “I can't move my shoulder . . . but I can move my elbow.”

“Should we go back?” Jory's face held concern. “We just have to get the blood from the darkspawn. Can't we come back for the treaties another day?”

“No. Just give me the tonic from my pack. And one of those bandages. No, not that. Aye, that.”

Jory handed her a small glass bottle. With her uninjured arm, she held the bottle and opened the stopper with her teeth. Brina downed its contents and shuddered. I need to work on the taste.

She waved Jory back over. “Bandage. Hold that side. Cross it over. Aye.” They tied it tight around her shoulder under her armpit. “There's some extra for padding. Get as much in there as possible in the front and the back.”

With difficulty, she moved her injured arm and secured her elbow and tucked her forearm into her wide belt. “There's a larger cloth in there. Aye, that one. Help me tie it around.” Daveth and Jory worked to secure her arm. With her arm bandaged to her torso, she used her staff to stand back up. “My thanks. Don't worry; I still have my other arm and my staff. I can cast magic.”

Alistair eyed her for a moment before nodding his head. “All right. Now that we have dead darkspawn, we need to get blood. Do you all have your vials? Good. Well, go on!”

Daveth covered his mouth and nose. “Eugh! Smells awful! Like . . . rotting meat.”

Alistair put his hands on his hips. “Well, what did you expect? Flowers?”

“I dunno . . . I've just never been this close to one. Hideous things . . .”

Jory managed to get his vial half full before dropping it and running a few feet away. He fell to his knees and retched.

Brina felt sick as well. It's so much worse this close. Once her vial was full, she backed away quickly, relieved. Jory and Daveth took a little longer but managed to fill theirs as well.

“Next, we need to find the treaties. They are located at on old Grey Warden base about three miles south of Wildling Lake. The lake is about half a mile off that way. We just follow this trail, and we'll get there in no time.” Alistair led the way down the hill and back to the trail.

“What about our fallen comrades?” Jory pointed.

They all glanced back at the bodies on the ground.

“We'll send someone back for them when we get back. It's a hazard of the job, and it's too dangerous for us to stick around.” Alistair turned on his heel and marched down the trail. Reluctantly, the others followed.

The journey to the lake was quiet until Jory spoke up. “Alistair, what can you tell us about the Joining?” He sallied up next to Alistair.

“I can't tell you anything.”

“Can't? Or won't?” Brina cocked an eyebrow.

“Can't. Can. Not. It was a secret to me as well.”

Jory tossed up his hands. “Why is it a secret?”

“Let's just say that all will be made clear later tonight as long as we can get the treaties and get back to the compound. Oh, look, the lake. We're here. Be on the lookout for a marked tree.”

“This is a lake?” Brina scoffed. Wildling Lake was little more than a mud puddle that took up less space than the infirmary did at Ostagar. “I'm surprised the sun hasn't dried it up. It hasn't rained or snowed in days.”

“You've been up in the mountains. It doesn't rain or snow down here very much. A little further west and you'll see six different rivers, all mountain run-off. This just happens to be a flooded area.”

“Flooded . . . if you can call it that.”

“Oh! There's the tree.” Daveth gestured toward a scraggly tree. Purple paint was smeared across the trunk.

“Great. Three miles south. You'll know it when you see it.” Alistair began down a path that broke off from the main trail. It was thinner and somewhat overgrown.

Brina happened to glance down and noticed a patch of white flowers with red centers. Sigfrost's Eye! She bent to pick a few.

“What are you doing, Brina?” Jory stopped to watch her.

“The kennel master, Jove, wanted these.”

“Andraste's Grace?”

“Aye, that's what he called it. I know it as Sigfrost's Eye.”

“I heard the Mabari were sick, and he was looking for that as a cure,” Daveth piped in. “Maybe grab some extra. He told me he'd pay for it.”

Brina shrugged. “If it helps, it helps.”

“Come, let's get those treaties.” Alistair helped Brina up.

They walked in silence. The trees pressed around them. The branches became thick and twisted, and the air grew colder as they went deeper into the forest.

Brina looked around uneasily. “The forest is sick here.”

“Yes. We're entering the heart of the Korcari Wilds. We must tread lightly. There are darkspawn afoot.” Alistair drew his sword and led them deeper into the darkness. Brina glanced at Jory, whose brow was deeply furrowed, and shrugged before following Alistair. Jory sighed deeply as he and Daveth stayed close behind her.

[changeling-fae]

This is my large headcanon about Clan Lavellan in my DA ‘verse that I was finally able to more or less get out of my head. I’m surprisingly proud of this although it took me awhile to write. 

I would like to thank @vir-ghilani for reading over it first and offering suggestions.

If I could, I’d make pretty banners for each section but I don’t have that talent so the above is the best I could do so, sorry it’s not more polished looking.

Feel free to ask questions!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                                          Clan Lavellan Master Post

Index:

1.     Codex

2.     History

3.     Region

4.     Diet

5.     Religious Practices

6.     Hanal’dirthara

7.     Seers and Oracles

8.     Magic

9.     Material Culture

10.   Folklore

11.  Relationships

                                        Codex Entry: Clan Lavellan

Clan Lavellan is one of the few Clans of the Dalish who thrive in the dangerous and dark swamp forest of the Korcari Wilds. They have lived in the wilds since the Towers Age, being one of the last great houses to leave during the Chantry’s Exalted March of Halamshiral.

House Lavellan had been dedicated to discovering the lost magics of Arlathan and many of their members were gifted with Dreaming abilities, specifically Seers and Oracles. It is perhaps unsurprising then that they ended up settling in the Wilds, living alongside the Chasind folk who’s hedge witch matriarchs have similar gifts.

Indeed, Clan Lavellan even learned the ways of Shapeshifting from these Witch of the Wilds and have had a unique peaceful alliance that is rarely seen with elves and humans.

The Veil being as thin as it is in the Wilds is likely the reason the Clan produces so many mages and with less of a fear from the Chantry’s Templars they are able to remain in the Clan, only being sent to other Clans who are in dire need.

These mage members who are not to become Keeper apprentices are still taught the writings and if not dedicated to another apprenticeship will form special groups with some hunters known as Hanal’dirthara who specifically search for lost lore and bring it back to the Clan to study. Mages in the Clan who are born with any Seer abilities are typically apprenticed to the Keeper as it is a rare gift, often skipping generations and never in strong numbers.

Between the desire for knowledge and the intricacies of the fog covered swamp that they live in, it is said that “A Lavellan always finds the path”.

-        Excerpt taken from a First’s lesson learning of various Clans

                                          Clan Lavellan’s History

The original Lavellan House of Halamshiral was a house specifically dedicated to finding the lost magics of Arlathan and a fair number of its members were Dreamers, specifically with the Seer/Oracle subset of the ability.

When the Chantry declared an Exalted March, their house was one of the last to leave the Dales, desperately trying to preserve what little lore they had recovered. Many were unfortunately slayed by the armies, the greatest massacre occurring when the Chantry’s army burned their temple to the ground with hundreds inside.

The survivors followed the few surviving High Priests with what little artifacts and recorded knowledge they had with them and fled south, brimming the border of the Arbor Wilds. Parts of the Chantry’s army still hunted them but were mysteriously killed within the Arbor Wilds.

Some members wished to stay within the forest for its protection believing perhaps the gods heard them but the High Priests who were Seers felt that their presence was not wanted and that they should move on.

They finally settled in the Frostback Basin but life was difficult thanks to the hostile Alamarri tribes who weren’t keen on sharing land with precious resources. Eventually they moved further east and into the Swamp-Forest where humans known as the Chasind were less hostile but where wildlife was more dangerous and the Veil incredibly thin.

There was finally a sense of peace amongst the elves, not having to fight the humans and they were able to focus on adapting to their new environment. The gift of Seerhood was still passed down through the newer generations which aided them in survival and allowed them to recover surrounding lost lore of their people, creating the first members of the Hanal’dirthara.

A new challenge appeared when at the beginning of the Black Age werewolves appeared, threatening both them and the humans in the surrounding areas. It was here where Clan Lavellan picked up the practice of having wolf companions for protection. The Red Wolves that thrived in the swamp became close partners to Clan Lavellan and often warned them of potential attacks. This bond stayed all the way into modern times and the wolves are considered as much as a friend as the halla.

The werewolf epidemic still took its fair share of casualties not just from the beasts but from the humans just north of the wilds who went in slaughtering both Dalish and Chasind alike. By this point the Clan had respect for the strange witch, Asha’bellanar and the Keeper at the time approached her for aid where he was taught how to manipulate the natural fog, for a price, but it is unknown what the price was by today’s Clan.

He shared this knowledge to all the mages of his Clan and they used the fog to manipulate their surroundings for protection.  They mostly used it to hide but they will also use it for the rare times the humans from the north, such as Templars, try and attack them.

In 7:92 Storm, Keeper Deshanna was born to the Istimaethoriel Clan in the Nahashin Marshes.

In 8:14 Blessed, Deshanna fell in love with Teinen Lavellan, Lavellan’s Hearthmaster, during the Arlathvhen and there was almost a Clan dispute because the Istimaethoriel Clan produced few mages. After a lot of deliberation and negotiation Lavellan sent 5 of their young mages to Istimaethoriel in exchange for Deshanna who was Istimaethoriel’s Second.

In 8:34 Blessed, Deshanna became Keeper after the previous Keeper and First died by a Templar attack when they were taken by surprise returning from the Arlathvhen. The Clan did not yet have a Second and a fair number of mages had been sent to other Clans that year.

In 8:96 Blessed, some members found the young King Maric and a young Loghain Mac Tir and brought them to Asha’bellanar.

In 9:20 Dragon, future Inquisitor Tsura Lavellan was born.

In 9:30 Dragon, the darkspawn started to erupt from the Korcari Wilds and a raid took 24 of its members, the First included. The Clan made a hard decision and left south into the Sunless Lands, migrating with some Chasind tribes, and lived there for 4 years. These years were known as the Annar’banalarla (Years of No Home) as they wandered the frozen tundra.

The Clan’s Second Tsura, who was raised to First and the future Inquisitor, was gifted with Seer abilities and with the strong leadership of Keeper Deshanna, they were able to eke out a living for the Clan. The magic the mages in Clan Lavellan use is water based thanks to living in a Swamp and they were able to adapt to the snow-covered land.

It 9:34 Dragon, they were able to return but some of their old settlement sites could not be returned to thanks to Blight corruption.

In 9:40 Dragon, Tsura had a vision about the Conclave and felt she had to go witness it and Keeper Deshanna gave her blessing, sending Tsura and two hunters with her to observe. Unfortunately, the two hunters died in the blast.

                                                          Region

The Korcari Wilds is a vast Swamp Forest in the southern part of Ferelden. The trees are incredibly tall and covered in hanging moss, and it is impossible for sunlight to ever hit the thickest parts of the Wilds.

The outer edges where the sun does hit never gets any brighter than dusk light and between that and the continuous fog, the Wilds can only be navigated by those familiar with it.

The temperature ranges from chilly to downright hot (59 F – 95 F is what swamps typically range in) and the waters rise to the point of flooding in the summer whereas in the winter they recede a great deal. This cycle has caused Clan Lavellan to have an interesting relationship with their Halla and Harts who migrate to more solid land in the summer and return to the Clan during the end of autumn.

The Halla in the Wilds are smaller than their northern cousins and their horns are much shorter to prevent from getting tangled in hanging moss. The Harts are often found in outer edges and are a plum color to blend with the low lighting.

When the waters are high in the summer and the Halla/Harts are gone the Clan’s Aravels are turned into makeshift boats and the Clan spends that time almost exclusively on the water and in the tree branches directly above. The aravels are tied to trees and the clan will use rope hammocks in the branches above for sleeping.

The wolves that live in the Clan won’t migrate as far as the Halla/Harts but will roam the closest borders to the Clan that they are able and many of the hunters will check upon them throughout the summer.

Other creatures that live in the area are giant spiders, giant swamp crabs, giant salamanders, giant catfish, werewolves, deer, gurguts, bogfishers, leeches, various aquatic species, birds, and insects.

Giant Spiders have actually taken an interesting role in the Clan’s society, namely that in their depictions of Sylaise she has spider like qualities and features. Weaving has become one of Lavellan’s greatest expressions of art, creating beautiful tapestries, shawls, and baskets as a result.

They use the spider silk in medicine and for wounds and spider venom is called Sylaise’ Fire, which is used in hunting or medicine.

The Veil is so thin that the Fade leaks through and the deeper parts of the swamp have spirits often possessing trees and animals. The Clan will pay their respects to benevolent Spirits each time they pass, similar to the Avvar and Chasind, while the hunters and warriors keep an ever-watchful eye out for malevolent ones, usually possessed corpses in the water. They use the word Spirit interchangeably and very rarely call spirits Demons.

In the heart of the swamp where it is darkest and foggiest, the oldest tree resides and is considered sacred to the Clan. It is known as Din’adahl (Tree of the Dead) and it is where they carry the ashes of those they lost. Because dead bodies don’t decompose in the Korcari Wilds and with the weak Veil, the Clan took up cremation for their dead. By adding the ashes to the tree they help strengthen it and believe it makes the forest stronger, protecting them in turn. Over time their vallaslin for Falon’Din has evolved to look more like the tree. 

The Din’adahl houses thousands of spirits within itself, originally trapped but over time evolving into something else. The tree is where all mages of the Clan gain their staves, each stave housing a spirit. The mages creates their own stave and carries it for the rest of their lives. Upon their death the stave is reabsorbed into the tree and the spirit returned. This partnership is considered sacred.

There is also a creature known by the Clan as the Harelbanal’ras (Shadow Trick) that has walked the Wilds even before the Chasind. It appears as a tall man-like being with a deer skull as its head and its body is a grotesque combination of roots and branches that look like muscle tendons found in skinned bodies. It also has a rib bones from its victims that it replaces with new bones periodically.

It is usually the Keeper who deals with the creature when seeking passage through certain sections but every member knows the words to say to keep it from attacking. The creature will sing them a line and they must respond with the right verse, and in some cases the Keeper offers the creature an apple that only grows in the Wilds and every mage carries apple seeds to grow should they get isolated (such as the Hanal’dirthara).

                                                          Diet

The Clan relies heavily on fish, insect life, amphibians, and occasionally birds and the Clan spends much of their time surrounded or during the summer on water and so they are expert fisherman. Nets are their primary source of hunting and even Dalish children as young as 6-7 can weave their own in a short amount of time.  

Leeches are a real problem in the swamp and so Clan members who must walk through the water eat special bitter black berries that keep the leeches from biting most of the time. The gatherers of the Clan are often looking for these berries wherever they go.

Giant crabs are usually what’s hunted specifically by the hunters and the carapace is used for other things like tools and bowls.

Every member of the Clan learns to use their other senses to survive in the fog and learn not to trust their eyes but this is especially true for Hunters who are taught to fight even blindfolded and can shoot anything that they can’t necessarily see.

There are wild apples the Clan as well as Chasind use in their wine. The wine is famous outside the wilds but the technique on creating the wine is known only to the inhabitants of the Wilds. The apples by themselves are as deadly as Nightshade and must go through a difficult process for safe consumption. 

It is not uncommon for Orlesians to try and learn the secret but they have had no success.

                                              Religious Practices

The Clan believes in the Creators just as any Dalish but there has been an evolution to how they’re perceived that deviates from even their closest cousins in the Brecillian Forest.

Falon’Din, Dirthamen, and Sylaise have taken up stronger roles in their society and generally only the Keeper wears Falon’Din’s vallaslin on their face. The weakened Veil and constant fog has made the Wilds very similar to the Fade itself and so the Keeper as the Clan’s guide wears his markings which have evolved to look like the Din’adahl, symbolizing that they carry the weight of all that is lost and must guide the living forward.

The other mages in the Clan will either wear Dirthamen or Sylaise’ markings depending on their role in the Clan and the only non-mages who wear Dirthamen’s are the hunters who are part of the Hanal’dirthara.

When a member gains their vallaslin they must perform a task specific to that Creator. Those who are to become Keeper must perform all the tasks of every Creator.

Future Keepers who wish to gain their vallaslin must venture to the Din’adahl and consume a specially crafted concoction made from the flower known as Fen’harel’s Footsteps, a dangerous plant that’s normally deadly poisonous to consume.

Under normal circumstances the flower causes madness and eventual death but for the ritual, the current Keeper and Hearthmaster/mistress create a mild diluted dose that causes hallucinations followed by a temporary coma.

The young First/Second must lie under the tree and slip into this coma where they have to wander the Fade and learn one thing from the spirits of the tree. It can be anything, whether about themselves or something about the Wilds. If they learn nothing by the time the poison leaves their body, then they are not ready and must wait another year.

During this vulnerable time, the most experienced members of the Hanal’dirthara watch over their hidden form to protect them from predators (or in the extremely rare event of demonic possession).

Once the future Keeper awakens with their new-found knowledge they must tell the current Keeper what they learned and the Keeper will tell them their own learned secret from when they had to do the ritual. This ritual is done only after successfully performing all the other tasks for each Creator.

Those who have Sylaise’ markings are the healers, birthers, cooks, and weavers of the Clan. To gain her vallaslin they must weave a tapestry that depicts the cycle of life before the day ends. Those who are apprenticed to become the next Hearthmaster/mistress must also take the venom of the venomous spiders that live in the Wilds into their bodies and not get sick at all. These particular apprentices have been slowly dosed with the venom over the years and have developed an immunity to the venom over time.

Those who take Dirthamen’s markings are to become part of the Hanal’dirthara and they must venture to a sacred site with their partner (always a mage and a hunter) where two spirits dwell. These two spirits will tell them two separate things, a lie and a truth, and the two elves must determine which is which and return to the Keeper who knows the answer. If they get it wrong, they must wait a year until they can try again.

This task is to prove they can work together and that they can’t be easily deceived.

All hunters who are not to become a Hanal’dirthara bear Andruil’s vallaslin and must hunt in a team and bring three creatures that will bring the most bounty to the Clan without taxing the environment.

Ghilan’nain’s members must successfully bond with ever Halla/Hart in the Clan and the future Herdmaster/mistress must learn to speak the language of beasts (Ranger ability).

June’s members must create a weapon from dead bark and not have it break. Future Craftmaster/mistresses must also infuse it with Fade-touched material successfully.

Those who bear Elgar’nan’s markings are the warriors and defense of the Clan and they must create successful barriers that the Keeper, select Hunters, and some wolves will test against.

And finally, those who bear Mythal’s markings are the members who teach and raise the children of the Clan and who focus on the day to day tasks. Their task is to use a portion of the Clan’s resources successfully and manage to keep enough for the next day. The apprenticed Storyteller must also successfully remember and repeat every story of the Clan orally to the Keeper.

The First is also required to dance in every religious ceremony and only the First will play Fen’harel in performances, often adding their own interpretation to the dance so every generation is a little different.

Gaining their vallaslin is when they also gain their true name. This name can only be known by members in the Clan (or intimate partners if from outside) and thus everyone has a common name based around their true to be used around outsiders.

For example, Tsura is her common name but her true name is Tarensa’sulrasana and as a child her name was only Tarensa.

                                                 Hanal’dirthara

Mages who don’t leave the Clan who don’t become Keeper or Hearthkeepers and specific non-mages who are trained like Hunters become members of the Hanal’dirthara, a group centered solely on finding and recovering lost lore. They are always paired into two per group, one mage and one hunter, and this bond stays throughout their lives.

This group leaves the Clan through various parts of the year and travel to new areas searching for artifacts to bring back to the Clan to study. Because it’s dangerous for mages outside of the Clan, when traveling, the mage will shapeshift into a bird, usually a hawk or an owl, and this helps the pair travel through more populated areas safely (mostly).

Since new knowledge gets gathered often, the Clan has a very open minded view on their history, knowing that anything they learn can be contradicted by the next finding so they instead focus on all the similarities found.

Currently there are 13 pairs in the Clan.

                                               Seers and Oracles

The first High Priests of Lavellan were Dreamers who could see the past and future and who were the first leaders of the eventual Clan Lavellan. It is more common than in any Clan alive today for a child to be born with the gift, although it is getting less and less frequent every generation.

Clan Lavellan carries a tome that has every account written from mages with the gift born after and if a child is born with the gift then they are generally raised to become the next Keeper.

Visions of the past occur more frequently and are generally triggered in areas where the Veil is weak. Unlike Dreamers who must go to sleep to see Spirits reenact history, the Seer can see it while awake, although they do end up in a trance like state. In severe cases a memory can “possess” the Seer for a brief moment and the mage would feel whatever the individuals in the memory felt.

Visions of the future are much more complex and can be seen awake or sleeping. Either way, the vision presents itself in symbols much like a dream does and the Seer must interpret it themselves.

If they happen to see a future vision while awake then they will sometimes end up speaking in riddles, especially if it “possesses” them.

For example, Inquisitor Tsura Lavellan had a vision about the Conclave where she saw a large burning sun being eclipsed by darkness while she falls into the Void only to be saved by a spear on a chain going through her left hand and wrapping around her body, the chain being pulled up by a large wolf with multiple eyes.

She’s had Dread Wolf symbolism throughout her life, including her test to gain her vallaslin, and knew she had to meet her visions to discover what they meant.

Seers are extremely sensitive to the Veil, Spirits, and magical artifacts; anything with a magical fingerprint as it were.

                                                           Magic

Every Dalish Clan has Keeper magic that is influenced by the environment that they live in and for Clan Lavellan their magic involves water and wood. Mages in the Clan are able to control water in all its forms and use it for various things needed.

Since they are surrounded by water they only need to manipulate what’s around them which helps conserve their mana. Should they travel to someplace like a desert, they would need to expend more mana to call water forward.

Clan Lavellan’s mages are all talented shapeshifters too, taught the moment their magic shows itself in childhood. The older the mage, the more forms they generally have since they practice one form at a time and shapeshifting is a difficult school to master.

Mages who rarely come to the Clan from other Clans (like Deshanna) are not as fluid in their transformations and generally know less forms even if they are older since shifting is easier to learn as children.

Overall magic is used sporadically and only when needed in dangerous situations, otherwise they use other means to do the things they need to do in the Clan.

                                                 Material Culture

Clan Lavellan is known for their tapestries, baskets, and jewelry that they will trade with other Clans in the Brecillan Forest or occasionally with villages closest to the Wilds, usually before winter when they need more supplies for the cold.

Their tapestries are large and hang from the trees where they are camped, creating a vibrant and colorful setting. Each tapestry has its own story, either about Dalish belief or even just everyday stories felt by the individual weaver.

They use special bugs and flowers found only in the Wilds to create the colors used and a technique that allows the color to capture light, which is needed given the dim setting the Clan lives in. The only tapestries allowed to be sold are ones that have no religious or personal attachments tied to it.

Their tapestries found outside of the Clan are so rare that one can occasionally find counterfeits in Orlais being sold in a market but any Clan member can figure out a fake a mile away.

The tapestries and drapes found in Skyhold were created by Clan Lavellan as a source of pride.  

Some musical instruments are also created using the resources only found in the Wilds, a forked pipe flute being a favorite creation.

Many of their celebrations and ceremonies involve costumes and masks that the dancers must create for themselves.

Everyday items are created from bones and the carapaces from hunted Giant Crabs, while hanging moss is used for any number of things. Dalish children in particular love to play with dolls made from the moss.

                                                       Folklore

Many of Clan Lavellan’s folklore revolves around a protagonist solving some sort of mystery or outsmarting a tricky Spirit and sad tales of star-crossed lovers. Tales include (all of which I’ll write in detail on a later date):

The Halla and the Hunter

The Dalish Girl and the Werewolf

The Spirit and the Butterfly (a sad tale)

The Dalish Boy and the Catfish

                                                   Relationships

Clan Lavellan has anywhere between 200 – 300 members and the camp is split into sections, the center being the largest which holds the Keeper, the H/hahrens, the various apprentices, the healers, and the children.

The middle ring holds the everyday members focused on day to day work and crafts.

The outer ring of sections holds the Hunters and Warriors where they keep an ever-vigilant eye on their surroundings to watch for danger.

Every section is connected in the above trees with rope that is used to travel and converse with members, especially in the flooded summertime.

The Keeper spends the majority of the time watching for Spirits, discussing with the Hahrens, performing religious rites, and training young mages.

Once the First is old enough (usually 13-14) they take on the tasks of acting as a middle man between the Clan and the Keeper and develop their diplomatic skills. They are also still trained in all the Keeper tasks while preparing for when they will get their vallaslin since they must perform every basic skill for every Creator.

Hahrens train their apprentices while hahrens (the elderly) help raise the young children since parents have any number of duties depending on what they’re dedicated to. Once children reach the age of 8 they are taught basic skills that every Clan member should know, though 6-7-year old’s will generally already know how to make their own fishing nets.

Once the child reaches 10-11 they are to decide which Creator they will dedicate their skills to, Firsts and Seconds being the exception.

It is at the age of 15-16 when a Child takes their vallaslin and becomes an adult, future Hearthkeepers being the exception and taking their vallaslin at 17-18 to solidify their immunity to the spider venom used.

Only the Keeper, Hearthkeeper, and their apprentices remain in the main camp throughout their lives.

The Herdmaster/mistress will move between all three sections throughout the seasons.

Due to the extremely weak Veil, members of Clan Lavellan generally live a long time and many make it well into their 100’s (Keeper Deshanna is 148 at the start of Inquisition and the oldest member is 160) and since elves do not go through menopause it is common to have huge generation gaps between even parent and child (Tsura’s father was well into his 50’s when he died and was Deshanna’s youngest child out of 5).

The Clan does raises children communally and every child is treated fairly with mage children especially protected and raised with strong convictions.

Given the high ratio of mages being born in the Clan compared to others, it is quite common to find a Lavellan mage sent to other Clans, many Keepers or healers.

Tsura’s Aunt and Deshanna’s daughter for example, is the Keeper to Clan Surainen up near Wycome.

Because of these things, Clan Lavellan is considered highly respected amongst the Dalish  although there is a bit of a political shift when Tsura becomes the leader of the Inquisition and some Clans fear Chantry assimilation.