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enasallavellan · 9 months

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Antivan Crow Headcanons

So, I have some headcanons about how the Antivan Crows work. Since I wanted to dive more into the Crows' inner workings in my most recent fic, I decided to expand on the whole thing in my little gremlin brain. Now, I've decided, that maybe people as gremlin-like as me can see them too!

Couple of things: I refer to the Crow houses as nests - I don’t know if I made that up or read/heard it somewhere, so you’ll hear me use that term when I’m talking about the actual area/building the crows inhabit. And also, to avoid sentences like, ‘The crows didn’t like when crows blah, blah, blah, I will from here on out refer to the overall group as the Antivan Crows, and individuals as crows. I know it might sound a little weird and repetitive, but I can’t really find a good way to do it otherwise.

SO BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUPS, IT'S GONNA BE A WILD RIDE!

(under the cut, obviously)

Different Nests, Different rules.

This one is very self-explanatory. Each house has a slightly different culture, rules, and standards. Some nests don’t get involved in certain jobs and hold their Crows to some sort of code. Most have at least a few hard nos of what sorts of jobs they take and what behaviors individual crows might engage in. For instance, one nest might forbid their Crows from making deaths needlessly painful or prolonged if the mark hasn’t actually done anything wrong, just pissed off a noble. I’m sure there’s at least one nest that is kind of a ‘do whatever, we don’t give a fuck’ house. But most have some sort of hard nos.

The Way Things Stay the Same

So, Zevran mentions that the Antivan Crows put their younger recruits in a building near a tannery, which leads me to believe that they have different paces for different people. So, maybe up until they’re a certain age they stay in the same area as the prostitutes. I’m just gonna guess maybe 8-10ish when you can kind of take care of yourself. They get shipped into a building with as many kids as they can put in one room and with only the occasional crow to stick his head, see if anyone is dead, then leave. As the recruits get older and continue to show promise, their living situation will change. Older recruits that have survived the first slew of training that tends to kill a lot of recruits, might get a tiny little crackerbox room. Like five feet by five room with a bed, but not just a bed - a very small trunk for personal belonging and a hook to hang shit with! Too tall for the provided bed? Find a way to get comfortable, because you’re stuck there for a bit.

Because what better incentive would a kid in this life than to let them go from a shitty place with no privacy (especially as they get older) to a slightly last shitty place where you have a mild amount of privacy in your tiny room and paper-thin walls. (I like to imagine that every so often a few of the recruits are roughhousing and get knocked/fall into an interior wall they just end up on the other side of it covered in debris).

Eventually, you move into the nest proper with similarly small rooms but now it's near the food and you don’t have to walk twenty or thirty minutes to food.

It would be within the Antivan Crows’ best interest to keep their recruits and crows in a somewhat central location so they can have as much control over their crows as humanly possible. Having basically ‘dorms’ for the crows would be a good way to do that. And you can get some nice places if you get good enough, so there’s still a reason for the recruits not to run away. Just as Zevran says - a crow is well supplied with sex and alcohol, but as far as having a lot of personal freedoms? Well, he did say it was a gilded cage. Granted, there are crows who make enough money and are regarded well enough that they can live some very lucrative lives - some might work much less than others, but because they’re extremely skilled at their job, they only need to take a few big jobs here and there and have no issues. But the average crow lives a relatively short life and with no way to extricate themselves from the Antivan Crows.

But there are other reasons for all the crows to control as much as they can. They have control over food, which I’ll talk about a little more when I talk about the kitchen girls.

No Idle Children

Younger recruits do simple tasks; bringing written correspondences around the nest, making deliveries, and acting as gofers to whatever a crow happens to need something (just snatch a kid running past for immediate service). As they get older, they do more and more complex jobs. Occasionally, kids might actually assist or participate in jobs. Acting as bait or a distraction is a great job for the younger ones. A little girl rushing up to a stranger, begging and pleading for assistance, would be a very good way to get the target right where a trap is waiting for them.

This also gives the recruits time to watch things in action. A well-regarded recruit might go to complete a job with a fully trained crow if they’re deemed skilled enough - and may even get a few coins for it.

Second Generation Crows

They have to exist. The Crows have access to the brothel, there are going to be kids. But this can be a very weird and tricky thing to handle depending on the parent.

Your average crow is probably not going to give much thought to a kid - and with no pressure to have anything to do with a kid, it’s rare a crow would be remotely involved in the life of their child. Despite this, any concerns about birth control go out the window, since each child born in the brothel is one more potential crow or prostitute. On top of that, most of the Antivan Crow-run brothels have enough prostitutes that having a few here and there not quite able to work isn’t a big deal to the Antivan Crows’ profits. Granted, the women can’t stay out of work too long because if they run out of money to pay their rent, they’re on the streets or dead. So, working as long as you’re able to get jons and getting back as soon as humanly possible would be integral for a prostitute to keep their home and job.

Now, some women might keep their children a little longer, but the ability to do this is directly impacted by how ‘important’ a prostitute is. And by ‘keep their child’ I mean they keep them in their room to sleep and involve themselves in their lives while they can.

The child of a very high-ranking crow or prostitute might be afforded some smaller comforts the others would be denied. Oh, they’d still be either Crows or prostitutes, but they might have lighter duties or private lessons to give them a boost in their chances of being able to make a life for themselves. There most likely are families (and I use that term loosely) that have been in the Antivan Crows for generations - but at the end of the day, what matters is that the nest is running smoothly and everyone is making money for the organization.

But honestly, I would say that there might be a handful of kids who have ever actually gotten out of the Antivan Crows without being a crow. But for most? There are two choice - three if you count dying, which I will talk about…

The Pipeline: The Crow Path

I mentioned before that I feel like the Antivan Crows would keep all their people in a few general areas, both as a way to keep control as well as monitor certain things. So some sort of staff will be needed.

So, there are two roles that a kid might go - go into crow training or work as staff.

Boys will all go into crow raining. No ifs, ands, or buts. Girl crows are less common but do exist. So if a girl has a temperament and resilience that might have a chance? She gets tossed in with all the others.

Recruits live a life of difficult training, torture (you know, so they can learn to resist it), cutthroat competition, and being subjected to the wills of the older crows - which opens the doors for all sorts of additional abuses. Generally, a recruit can expect a beating if they break a rule, cause problems, or irritate someone enough. Depending on what the issue is and the mood of whoever is doing the beating, it might be getting whacked with a stick once or twice, or all the way up to having a few people wail on you for a while. Denying food and sleep might also be used, as well as isolation in a very damp and chilly room.

And absolutely, positively, don’t you dare fucking cry. Even the kitchen girls are held to this - crying is weak, and crying gets you beat.

The Pipeline: The Staff Path

Girls begin their work in the kitchens. Now, the life of a kitchen girl seems like a pretty sweet deal at first. Yes, they work hard in the kitchens, but outside of those duties, they have free time. They also have a degree of respect from the crows - after all, they do have control over the food, and if you want a certain food you need to be on the good side of the kitchen girls.

And you get on their bad side? They might purposively make things you hate, or it’s bad enough, you just might get a plate of overly poisoned food.

Now, all the food has mild amounts of different types of poisons and toxins so the crows can build up immunities. It’s not enough to kill anyone, but you can imagine the new recruits having a really bad time for the first few weeks. So all it takes is a mild slip and suddenly - oops! You’re either dead or going to spend a while wishing you were dead.

And many of the girls form tight friendships in the kitchens - something denied to crows and the recruits (never know who might stab you in the back). The kitchen girls are also in charge of what goes into the kitchens. They’re sent out to markets to sample what is being sold and decide which vendors to buy from. There’s a crow somewhere nearby keeping tabs on them, both to keep them out of trouble and keep trouble away from them. And one of the kitchen girls is easy to spot - there's a very specific shade of blue that is only made for the Antivan Crows (or else). Girls have two aprons - one that is used in the kitchen and one that is used for going out into the world. And when people see those signature blue aprons - it’s obvious who they are.

So, you’re thinking to yourself - why Lacy, why would they treat these girls so well? Why would the profits-over-everything Antivan Crows spend money on resources on a group that isn’t making them money?

Well, I’ll start off by saying that these little outings of the kitchen girls are not just to let them have a fun day in the market - it’s advertising. Because once that girl reaches a certain age - I’m sure it varies depending on the nest - they go to work upstairs. AKA, the brothel.

So all those outings? Picking the prettiest of the kitchen girls to go out where they will be seen? You show off the goods - one day, you’ll be able to purchase one of those girls by the hour.

While some intermingling between the recruits and the staff is inevitable, it’s discouraged. And the girls are definitely discouraged from being sexually involved with anyone. There isn’t a punishment if they do, but they will miss out on a massive boost in money. We all know that there's plenty of people out there who have a weird obsession with deflowering girls. So if a girl has abstained, their first job is auctioned off to the highest bidder. A girl can make good money from that. And unlike kitchen girls, prostitutes have to pay rent to the Antivan Crows - which is taken out of anything they make. As they get older, they get less and less support. If they don’t make enough money, they go back to staff, specifically cleaning. Cleaners don’t have anything near the life they once had as kitchen girls, since they’ve already been used up. So for the most part, they’re ignored by the rest of the nest (if they’re even seen) and live in bare-bones housing.

But there is one particually chilling danger a kitchen girl faces.

Every so often.

Maybe once or twice on a bad year.

A particularly pretty kitchen girl might simply disappear.

Their friends might be sad, but there would be no time for all that - there’s kitchen work to do. Everyone knows, nobody talks about it, and it’s accepted as just Something That Just Happens Sometimes.

Sex, fine - love, no.

So it seems a common trend that love is forbidden in the Antivan Crows. It’s a distraction and a weakness that can be exploited. So it’s a major, no-go. Sex? They don’t care; have as much sex as you want. Now, this no-love clause goes for crows and prostitutes, but also for recruits and kitchen girls. After all, a bunch of them are probably teenagers and there’s not much use in trying to stop something that’s just going to happen.

So a decision must be made. If one is a crow and the other not, the crow is made to kill the person they love, or they both die. If it’s two crows, then they either pick the more promising crow to do the killing, or if they’re pretty equal they just leave them in a room with a knife and see who comes out. This, in turn, makes something very clear to the remaining member. This especially hits older recruits and younger crows who might not have the foresight to think about the long-term effects of a romantic affair.

Templars, Watch Yourselves.

Mages are great for the Antivan Crows - people who are their own weapons or can patch up their assassins are invaluable. So, the nest will offer those mages protection in exchange for using their magic in some way to make money for the nest.

For the most part, the templars and the Antivan Crows don’t bother each other, so long as the nests aren’t flagrant about it.

Now, this is where headcanon ends and my own fic begins, but I’ll tell you about a little thing that I decided went down.

Templars got sick of perfectly good mages escaping and getting to be safe with a criminal network, so they decided to make an example of a smaller house in Salla. They hired the Antivan Crows through a particularly devout and rich noble, tasking them with quashing a nonexistent rebellion. Once most of the crows in the nest were halfway across Antiva, the templars made their move. They overtook the nest, and snatched as many mage kids and adults as they could, killing the ones they couldn’t take alive.

Then, to let the Antivan Crows know just how naughty they were by defying the templars for so long - they barred the exits and burned it to the ground. You could count the number of survivors who weren’t taken by the templars on one hand.

The Antivan Crows respond with coordinated attacks on the Antivan templar order. Templars might have some diet-magic and armor and specific training, but the Antivan Crows massively outnumber them - and they’re trained to kill. Not to defend or control or subdue, but to kill.

In other words, the Antian Crows brought the templars to their kness.

From that point on, the templars leave the crows the hell alone.

Happiness in a Nest

But, it’s not all doom and gloom. As with every situation, people make the best of what they’re given. Whether they admit it or not, most crows have some fair-weather friends and a few might even have friends they trust. Children in the nest find ways to have fun and even play. Older kids find ways to sneak out for a night of fun and bad decisions. When the workday is over, prostitutes socialize and play cards over glasses of wine.

Good memories are made, even in a nest.

In conclusion.

Life with the Antivan Crows is just like living under the crushing weight of modern capitalism - it only benefits the upper echelon and anyone that can’t make money is deemed useless and cast aside.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

Leave a comment/reblog or message me with any questions or share your own headcanons! I look forward to hearing from y'all!

#headcanons #Antivan Crows #Antiva #Filling up the gaps #If I'm not given information I WILL MAKE SOMETHING UP #Dragon Age #share headcanons #lacy explains it all #zevran arainai #serafina tabris #The Sea the Stars and the Albatross

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ghostwise · 5 months

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Matacuervos, ch. 3 El milagro In which the brothel receives an unexpected visitor. Read update on AO3 - Read from the beginning on AO3

A miracle was taking place in Rialto. And what better place for a miracle than the longest-standing brothel on the city’s promenade?

El milagro.

For decades it had promised patrons a unique experience; something transformative and life-affirming. Something they wouldn’t find anywhere else. Today it was aptly named.

“Ahtziri’s son is downstairs!”

The news spread quickly through the prostitute’s quarters, high up on the third floor. Past the first floor and all its revelries, past the second floor with its private and comfortable rooms, the flurry of heeled footsteps sounded through the hallways of the old building. “Come quick! Have a look for yourselves!”

Those who were recent hires at El milagro met the news with little more than a bemused smile. But those who had been there longer remembered the scandal like it was yesterday.

“Ahtziri’s son!”

“The laundress! The knocked-up Dalish girl.”

“I remember her. Miss too-good-to-wash-our-linens. Miss wouldn’t-be-caught-dead-whoring.”

Amid the chatter, a sharp intake of air. “Don’t speak ill of the dead. It was a tragedy! She left a child behind.”

“Her son! What was his name?”

“Looks just like her. Blond hair, big brown eyes…”

“Got taken away one day, I remember. Adopted, they said. What was the name? Started with a Z…”

“Ziran? No!”

“Zarah?”

“No, no! Zevran?”

“Yes, that was it! And he’s downstairs right now!”

Of course the old prostitutes remembered. Who could forget? The dead husband, the widowed Dalish girl, the piles of debt, all the rumors of money and passion—and caught amidst all that ugliness, the orphaned baby. But the memories had softened with the passage of time, and the men and women of El milagro chatted amongst themselves, pleased with the reminiscing. Wasn’t it nice to be remembered, bad blood aside?

An Antivan never forgets his roots, they all agreed.

An Antivan always remembers, they said, and nodded wisely at the thought.

Meanwhile, unaware of the commotion he had caused, Zevran was downstairs and speaking with the brothel manager in her office.

Gloria Amilcar was a wisp of a middle-aged woman, fragile and thin, save for her soft and lined face. With her hair tied back in an austere bun and her fingernails delicately lacquered, she had a flighty air about her that seemed ill-fitted to her role.

She was also trying very hard to get Zevran to leave.

“I understand, completely. But, as I said earlier, we have a strict no loitering policy,” she said.

“Of course,” Zevran returned smoothly. “With such a fine establishment, your employees must be very busy, I’m sure. Allow me to pay for an hour! I will even pay double! I do not mind, if only to see old friends—”

“It is a generous offer.” She gave a pause, and a forced smile. “But we simply cannot accept.”

“After work, then?” Zevran asked.

“There is no ‘after work’ here at El milagro. I cannot close the brothel to our other clients. This is a business, young man.”

“Then perhaps on a day you are closed? I can return then-”

“We are never closed!”

Zevran plucked at a thread on his trousers, a placid smile fixed onto his face; a tactic to hide his growing irritation. “I am asking to simply pay for an hour or two with your esteemed workers,” he tried again, “As any client would. Am I being denied that right?”

“Precisely. You are denied.” Sra. Amilcar left her desk abruptly. Refusing the opportunity for any further discussion, she opened the door and with a sharp gesture motioned for Zevran to leave.

“You have your answer. Please, go.”

The sounds of the brothel floated in through the open door, and Zevran sat in his chair, impassive.

Truth be told, he hadn’t expected to be met with so much resistance. When he’d first arrived to the brothel he’d been greeted as a guest, but no sooner had one of the older women recognized him that Sra. Amilcar’s demeanor changed entirely. Now his intuition was telling him there was a reason why Amilcar was desperate to get him gone.

This was not a prison. Surely the workers were free to chat with a guest? So why did she seem worried—even afraid?

The thought was interrupted as a familiar voice floated through the door.

“Vhenan? Oh, there you are.”

Hamal had evidently grown tired of waiting out on the street.

If she hadn’t been scandalized already, Sra. Amilcar was doubly so now. She scanned Hamal from top to bottom, eyes wide. “Ven-an?”

“Ah! Hello.” Hamal simply smiled at her as he sidled in past her. “Very little Antivan, sorry! My husband is done? Everything good?”

“Everything is fine, amor,” Zevran said, looking at Sra. Amilcar pointedly. “Just negotiating.”

“I was just,” Sra. Amilcar interrupted, her voice terse and jumping from syllable to syllable, “telling your husband that we cannot accommodate his request. Please, gather your things and leave. You know? Get out. Go away. Goodbye, no more! Perhaps your husband can translate more properly! Shoo!”

She elaborated further by pointing rather aggressively towards the exit.

Zevran and Hamal exchanged a look.

It wouldn’t be the first time they had been kicked out from an establishment. It would, however, be the first time they were kicked out as a married couple, and that made it special.

Zevran smiled, with a soft tilt of the head, as if to say, see what I’m dealing with?

“Oh,” Hamal intoned, a hint of mischief in his eyes. He looked from his husband to Sra. Amilcar and then repeated, “Sorry, very little Antivan, very bad. I can explain: We are married! On our honeymoon.” He made sure to speak loudly enough that his strongly accented Antivan rang clear out across the brothel. “Where can I pay? I will pay everything. A gift for my husband!”

By now, the discussion had drawn the attention of others, who erupted into cheers at the declaration. Zevran grinned, simply beaming under Hamal’s confidence, and the way the prostitutes shouted encouragement and praise: What a doting husband! What a thoughtful gesture! Were they open to adding a third?

Meanwhile Sra. Amilcar had grown quite pale. Swaying a bit on her feet, she seemed to steel herself before taking a deep breath and stating loudly, “Enough! I will call the city guard if you do not leave, NOW!”

All things considered, this was much farther than Zevran had ever expected to get.

Nevermind the fact that they now found themselves on the street, having been swiftly expelled by the brothel’s security. The visit had been enlightening, and not entirely a waste. For instance, he knew now that the brothel was still running, and under the same management, too. But the reaction he’d met within had been troubling.

“I am sorry.” Hamal grimaced. “I may have made things worse. I should have waited-”

“She had already decided to kick me out when you showed up,” Zevran assured him. “But it was very fun to watch, amor.”

“I am glad you had fun. I cannot recall ever seeing you so unhappy in a brothel, ma vhenan.”

Zevran laughed softly. He did not respond.

“You seem distracted,” Hamal observed after a moment. “What happened?”

Zevran looked up, and found Hamal’s eyes on him. “That woman in charge,” he said with a frown. “She was afraid of me.”

“Afraid? Why?”

“I cannot rightly say. I suppose I was drawing too much attention. Everything was fine when she thought I was just another customer to charm. But as soon as some of the older prostitutes recognized me, she suddenly became quite concerned. She forced them upstairs and pulled me into her office, where you found me.”

“They recognized you?” Hamal asked.

Zevran let out a sigh, mulling over the unexpected influx of memory and feeling. It was more than he’d expected. More than he’d been prepared for.

“They did,” he said, voice softening. “They were pleased to see me. They greeted me like an old friend.”

“Did you recognize them?”

“Yes, in fact. Sofia and Nadia. They and another young woman named Adelmar used to take turns watching me and the other children.”

“All these years and they did not forget you! You must have left quite an impression,” Hamal suggested, with a smile.

Zevran considered it; then he grinned, and an exuberant little laugh escaped him.

He had never expected to be remembered.

He remembered El milagro, of course, because he had suffered so much there. But here were people who had lived beside him, and watched his childhood years from their own perspective. In a sense they were witnesses to a crime, though they did not even realize it.

“I must speak with them at once,” Zevran said earnestly. “They could tell me things about my past. About my childhood. About the Crows.”

Hamal nodded. “We must find a way to get past this Amilcar woman. But for now,” he added, glancing at the first-floor shutters of Gloria Amilcar’s office, “I suggest we leave, before she calls the city guard.”

Gloria Amilcar peered through the shutters of her office window, watching the retreating figures of the two unwelcome visitors until they vanished into the distance. Being a woman of little imagination, she felt her heart rate settle almost instantly.

Thank the Maker, it had been taken care of quickly.

She shut the blinds and tucked a loose strand of hair back into her updo.

The situation with the Dalish boy—now a young man—had certainly been unexpected, but she had handled it, in her own opinion, with grace and intelligence. Now this Zevran and his strange foreign companion were gone, and they would not return again.

And why would they?

After all, what good would it do for them to dig any deeper? To linger nearby, esculcando where they shouldn’t and stirring up trouble? Even if they tried it, she would make sure they were swiftly taken away and locked up. Pull a few strings, pay a few guards. Send a strong message.

But it hadn’t come to that.

Feeling pleased with that conclusion, Sra. Amilcar went back to her desk.

It was her duty to keep such things from the workers. Threats to El milagro could imperil their all their livelihood in ways few could understand. Not only the wayward sons of politicians, or a dozen noble-born bastards to keep track of; running a brothel involved a lot of customer service—but she had hosts who took care of that. Mostly she handled the administrative side of things.

She tallied up totals and calculated expenses. She filed things that were necessary, or made it so that they were not necessary after all, ensuring the owner’s accounts were always in good standing. Obscuring a few lapses here and there. Falsifying birth certificates. The financial records needed to be completed by a deft hand, so the tax collectors wouldn’t dig too deeply into things. She was good at all this. El milagro kept her busy. She had no time for disruptions. No time for mess.

As she pulled out a list of supplies for the next month, she heard the door swing open.

“Is he gone?”

“Who?” Sra. Amilcar asked, without looking.

“That man,” Nadia said, and settled into the now vacant chair. “Zevran.”

“Ah,” Sra. Amilcar said. “Yes, he’s gone.”

Nadia regarded her closely.

She was a gem, and a gossip, a favorite of the customers for many years. Sharp-tongued and honey-eyed, Nadia had no surname, but she held half the city's secrets in her pockets—she'd even birthed a few herself—and she enjoyed a certain rapport with the brothel manager. Simply put she was irresistible, with her aged and deep-set features, which now focused into a critical and exacting look.

“Did you kick him out?”

Sra. Amilcar set an inkwell and fresh pen upon the table. She laid out her lists of supplies, her tally of accounts, and her roster of the brothel’s most productive workers, and only the faintest tremor of her right hand betrayed her.

“Money has been a bit tight, Nadia,” Sra. Amilcar said carefully. “I may have to let a few of the girls go if things keep up.”

“Sure,” Nadia hummed. “What is it he wanted anyway? I never get to see you make such a fuss, even when the clientèle gets rowdy, so…?” Under the sharp warning glare of the brothel manager, Nadia grinned. “Did he want to know about his mother? Is that it?”

Sra. Amilcar cleared her throat sharply. Unable to hold Nadia’s gaze, she looked away, subdued.

“Yes,” she lied quietly. “And I told him the truth: We know nothing about it. It was all too long ago. He was understandably disappointed.”

“I see.”

Nadia watched her for a moment, allowing the silence that followed. When Sra. Amilcar said nothing more, she got up from the chair, and gathered up her skirts.

“Well,” she sighed, “I was just curious. No reason to dwell on the past. Not in this line of work, right?”

“Exactly!” Sra. Amilcar let out a little sigh, pleased to be understood.

A soft moment for Nadia to prod into. She stood beside the door, casting a glance over her shoulder.

“And Gloria?” she asked sweetly before leaving.

“Mm?”

“You will find a way to stretch the budget, won’t you? You’re so good at that. I’ve always said numbers were just one of your many talents.”

“Yes… well.” Sra. Amilcar paused. “You’re right, of course, Nadia. I’m sure I will figure something out.”

#rinnywrites #dragon age #dao #zevran arainai #zevran x warden #antiva #mahariel #oc: hamal mahariel #here's the beginning of the first little subplot that leads to adelmar and then to salle... if i keep fiddling with it i will never post it #btw ahtziri is my hc for zevran's mother :) idk how much i will delve into their story in this longfic but she'll be mentioned a few times

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storybookhawke · 5 months

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youtube

Thedas Calls - Dragon Age Day (2023)

#daday #dragon age day #dragon age #dragon age dreadwolf #dadw #da4 #bioware #thedas #Youtube #anderfels #rivain #antiva

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redlyriumidol · 2 months

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THEDAS; a fanmix collection for the settings of dragon age: dreadwolf. listen on spotify: TEVINTER / ANTIVA / ANDERFELS / RIVAIN TEVINTER / opulent, magnificent, but creepy, sinister... corrupt city of darkness and hedonism. immense gothic cathedrals of dark stone tower above the downtrodden masses that scurry beneath. so much history, so much culture, but the blood will never wash out ANTIVA / italian, with hints of spain. neighbours sit around in the streets to play guitars or lutes and sing/clap together. beautiful twisting spires, refinement, but there's a seedy underbelly, the stink of leather and the risk of murder- the people are joyful nevertheless- wine, food, song flows from every open window. ANDERFELS / vast, open, nothingness. a feeling of pervasive doom, a searching for some sign of the maker in the unforgiving wastelands under an expanse of empty sky. grim soldiers clad in grey march across the dusty landscape, the king has long abandoned his people who must fend for themselves against the constant threat of darkspawn. RIVAIN / their lives are intertwined with the sea. fishing nets, the smell of salt. pirates and sailors come and go, drinking spiced rum at the taverns. and there's an old magic there which sits on the skin, it's as natural to them as breathing. respected seeresses with wrinkled, weather-beaten faces ply their trade under the smoke of burning herbs and cured fish. women sell branches of rosemary on street corners. hints of spanish romani culture and music, also north african and al-andalus.

#dragon age #dragon age fanmix #dragon age: dreadwolf #antiva #tevinter #anderfels #rivain #dragon age 4 #minrathous #treviso #these took ages! im particularly proud of tevinter.#with rivain i went for the sort of seeress/hedge witches vibe. but also pirates #these are subject to reworking if the settings are RADICALLY different than how i imagined them once the game comes out #also if there are more settings i will do those too. like kal-sharok fingers crossed #and i may do the settings from the prev games #mix #mine #also lol thats a pic of notre dame burning im sorry

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afinickyguide · 3 months

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episode 128: crow feed 🐦‍⬛🍚🥓

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larkoneironaut · 1 year

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Zevran Arainai, Black Shadow, plotting the fall of the Antivan Crows ✨

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sinizade · 1 year

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Zevran, the Antivan Crow

#zevran #zevran arainai #dao zevran #dragon age origins #dragon age #dragon age fan art #antivan crows #antiva #rogue #drawing #drawings #characterdesign #draw #sketch #digital drawing #character #drawn #sketchbook

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exhausted-archivist · 5 months

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So About That Thedas Calls Teaser...

I am by no surprise a map fiend and have been combing over the map shown. First off it is tilted and squashed to heck cause of the really fun stylization which seems to be pulling inspiration from historical nautical maps as it has at least two sea bound center points.

Second, we have confirmation of:

Treviso, Antiva

Rivain

Weisshaupt, Anderfels

There are elements that suggest the following:

Merdaine, Anderfels: a location that holds the giant white sculpture of Andraste titled "Our Lady of the Anderfels", this is also near Weisshaupt.

Minrathous, Tevinter: which would make sense considering everything we've seen in previous concept work and through the short stories and anthology Tevinter Nights

Arlathan Forest, Tevinter: Same reasoning as above

Kal-Sharok: This one is a bit more tenious because as I mentioned in the first point the map is squashed and tilted so exact location is hard to figure out. Couple with the fact the structure is largely hidden in the fog of war. It could very much also be Andoral's Reach as that is the other known location in that area, but that is in Orlais so I have my doubts.

The following images are organized in order of mention:

The last image shows the whole frame for Minrathous, Arlathan forest, and the mysterious southern fortress (Kal-Sharok?) I also wonder, given that the Thedas Herbology oversized mousepad shows two varieties of deep mushrooms we've only seen in a drawing in The World of Thedas Vol. 2; the bleeding russula and the blighted morel. I wonder if that further lends to the possibility that we will be venturing back into the Deep Roads.

I'm really hoping we get to see more than one place in each location outside Tevinter. Not only that, but I also hope we get to go to Antiva City, though not named it would be interesting to see the capital of Antiva as well as how the "crown" and crows are handling the fifth occupation of Treviso by what they perceive as the Qun and if the main body of the Qun is helping fight against the rebelling Antaam as we see suggested in Tevinter Night.

I do really love the map they've shared, the stylization definitely communicates a focus on certain locals and fades away the ones we don't need to even consider. The use of the fog of war also plays so well into that and the sea monster.

Unfortunately, it doesn't portray much in terms of climates/biomes. The Anderfels looks arid as it always has, but Antiva is even more un-informing than usual. The fact the map is essentially stylized cracking rock portrays little on if Antiva is an arid climate or not. Considering Treviso seems to have snow on the mountains, and pretty low on the peaks as well, I have questions considering the rough placement we've been suggested they are on the globe and the fact that Seheron and Par Vollen are tropical and Rivain has the hallmarks of the same with the crops they grow - bananas, sugar, nutmeg, cinnamon, rice, chickpeas, bell peppers, ect.

Very excited to get back into the world of Thedas again.

#Dragon age 4 #dragon age: dreadwolf #da4 #dread wolf rises #dragon age day 2023 #spider cw #insect cw #deep mushrooms #fictionl fungi #I am so hyped for the full reveal and gameplay trailer #I also really hope we get to see more flora and fauna variation TT-TT''#long post #da4 teaser #Antiva #Anderfels #Rivain #Tevinter #Weisshuapt

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