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inquisimer · 2 years

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Dalish Week: Craft

Day two!! Jumping back to pre-Inquisition, a bit of Neria learning when she first joined Clan Lavellan and a snippet of her early relationship with Mahanon and Rosha🥰

@dalish-appreciation-week

~~~

Neria drank in Master Souren’s lesson with rapt attention. His aged, calloused hands shaped and cut and bent and twisted wood with ease; the ironbark seemed to bend to his very will.

The students formed a semi-circle around the makeshift workbench he’d laid between two stumps. Though she sat barely a head above the tallest, Neria felt odd and out-of-place among the children. In her mind, she was an interloper, the duckling destined never to fit with the geese. She supposed the Dalish would always cast her as a child, long as her face remained bare and free of ink.

Some time had passed since she sat for lessons, but this differed pointedly from her Circle classes in many ways. Mainly, that she was the oldest playing catch-up rather than the budding prodigy. She’d climbed those ranks with rapid ease, thanks mostly to the advantage of living and absorbing Circle teachings practically since birth.

She wondered if these children felt the same pride in their skill as she had, when she was no taller than a dwarf, but still wove a better paralysis rune than an apprentice five years her senior.

Demonstration completed, Souren passed chunks of ironbark to each student, along with a warning not to waste the precious resource. They spread across the grass to try their hand at the trade. Neria took a moment to admire the dark knots and smooth grain of the wood, and to watch how her peers took up their task with gusto.

She could only liken it to the Tranquil enchanters at Kinloch and to draw such a comparison did a disservice to the energy around her now. The methodical process of the Tranquil prioritized function and service. The mages used the runes at the Circle and the Templars profited off basic items—daggers, buckets, cloaks—with enchantments woven into their very fibers.

But that work product lacked the spark of imagination, creativity, the personality of the creator. Neria could practically feel the buzz of that excitement across her skin now. It was a pleasant sensation and she let it guide her hands as she bent her head over her work and shaved fine scraps from the wood.

They spent several days just like that. Each morning Souren circled with small critiques and they adjusted their work accordingly. At the end, each student walked away with a simple shortbow of their own making, carved to their liking, and strung with a composite of linen and elfroot fibers Master Souren spun while they crafted.

Though proud of her work and happy to trace the endless spirals of leaves and feathers that wove around the weapon, Neria had no real use for a bow. She wandered away from the children toward where Rosha sat by a fire, following the edge of her blade with a whetstone.

“Care to trade?”

Rosha grinned without looking up. “Don’t you want to keep your masterpiece?”

The long grass fanned out where Neria settled herself alongside her friend. She laid the bow across her legs and raised an eyebrow over steepled fingers.

“I don��t fight with a bow.” She shrugged and rolled her wrists, leaning slightly back. “And if I ever need to…”

She snapped her fingers without any sound and the Fade coalesced at her summons. The air in front of her turned opaque and shaped itself into a bow not unlike the one on her lap.

Surprise widened Rosha’s eyes, then her grin returned full force and she leaned forward to inspect the spell.

“Incredible,” she breathed. Her fingertips hovered on the edges where the spell blurred against the Veil. “It works like a proper bow and everything? And they taught you something like this in a Circle?”

“It is a proper bow,” Neria said, somewhat petulantly. “And—not exactly. I’m not sure how the tome ended up in our library, but I doubt the Templars meant to leave it there. It had so much dust on it, they likely assumed it was an old reference for something that had simply become common knowledge—like restoration potions or arcane bolt theory.”

She unwrapped her fingers from the summoned bow’s grip and it dissipated back into the Fade. “It came in handy, though, when I couldn’t carry a staff. Unchanneled casting only gets you so far.”

“Anyway” —she gestured down to the tangible bow still lying across her thighs— “I don’t need it, but it was a good lesson. So, are you in the market?”

“Not in the slightest.” Rosha turned one of her daggers so it caught the light of the fire on one side and reflected her shrewd smile on the other. The freshly sharpened edge gleamed like silverite at sunset. “I’m rather partial to my blades. But you know who is fond of his bows—“

“Not this again—“

“In fact, I’m pretty sure Mahanon was asking just a few days back when Souren would have new pieces ready.”

Neria’s glare soured against the side of Rosha’s face, but the hunter only hummed an innocent tune and set to work on her second dagger.

“I would make a peace offering, but I think he’s as liable to shoot me with it as a passing rabbit.”

“Please, the way to the man’s heart is through his armory.”

“Well I’m not trying to get to his heart, now am I?”

Vindictive satisfaction flooded Neria like the blood flooded Rosha’s face, until her skin matched her hair. “Maybe you do need it after all, eh falon?”

“I might.” Rosha narrowed her eyes and tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I suppose it would serve as a club to beat away that smug smile just as well as anything else.”

“Wow, rude.” Neria jabbed her elbow and a spike of mana caught Rosha’s side, making her drop the whetstone. Her daggers joined it in short order and she tackled Neria before the other elf could blink.

“Oof—“

They rolled away from the fire, wrestling for dominance in a tangled knot of limbs and joints and unbound hair until a shadow fell over their childish antics.

“It’s come to blows already, has it?”

“Mahanon!” Rosha returned to her feet with ease, landing upright on a patch of moss. Most of her color had given way to blotchy exertion, but patches returned as she grinned at the somber, unimpressed hunter. “We were just talking about you.”

He raised an eyebrow at her; his gaze cut to Neria’s still-prone form and his lips thinned to a nonexistent line. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Oh, lighten up.” Rosha nudged Neria with a leather-wrapped toe and she reluctantly dragged herself up off the ground. “Weren’t you telling Ilvin the other day that you’re due for a new bow?”

Mahanon crossed his arms firmly over his chest. “And if I was?”

“Well then you’re in luck!” An expectant look passed from Rosha to Neria and the latter reluctantly paced over to where her crafted bow fell during their scuffle.

“Rosha—“ Weariness lined his voice and he pinched the bridge of his nose. Instinct told Neria to disengage and hide away until his ire burned out; as if sensing her thoughts, one of Rosha’s hands looped like steel around her wrist and tugged her back into the conversation.

“Just look at it, ‘hanon,” she coaxed. “It’s a fine piece and Neria doesn’t need it.”

“Hmph.”

Despite his reluctance and her own reticence, Neria offered the weapon for his inspection. He traced the curve of the limbs and the carvings that worked seamlessly around the riser. Neria was nothing if not partial to symmetry; she’d painstakingly balanced the design.

It did look good, she realized, studying it with fresh eyes alongside Mahanon’s scrutiny. A hint of pride budded in her chest. Even if he spurned this olive branch as well, she felt confident another, less bull-headed clan member would gratefully accept.

One by one, Mahanon’s fingers closed around the grip. He tugged gently and Neria let it slip from her grasp so he could feel the balance and test the weight in his hand. His face betrayed nothing and despite her confidence of only a moment before, Neria felt that familiar evaluation anxiety.

“It is a decent piece,” he finally said, though each word came slowly, as if at a great cost. “If you truly do not have other plans for it…”

“Keep it.” He still hadn’t looked at her. “As Rosha said, I do not need it.”

The air teemed with awkward tension and silence for a few beats, until Rosha sighed loudly and rolled her eyes. She jabbed a finger into Mahanon’s shoulder.

“This is the part where you say ‘thank you’, lethallan. I know you remember the words. And they’ll come off better if you actually look at her while you speak.”

Mahanon’s ears flattened against his head for just a second, then flicked back out. For a moment, Neria thought he might just take the bow and walk away.

Instead, his eyes finally found her face. She’d seen them suspicious and crestfallen, and she’d seen them angry most of all. So to see them totally calm and neutral jolted her—she wasn’t sure what it meant, or if she should be nervous about it.

“Ma serannas,” he said lowly, jaw tense and chin jutted out. As if she needed another reminder that this was not an invitation for further conversation.

She simply bowed her head. When she looked back up, Mahanon had vanished.

“Well,” Rosha clapped her hands together, a wide, genuine grin stretching her freckled cheeks. “That went well, don’t you think?”

“If you say so,” Neria shrugged. “I’ll hold my judgment until he goes…say a week, without shooting me.”

“That’s the spirit, falon.”

#dalish week #dalish week 2022 #dragon age #dragon age fanfic #dragon age inquisition #oc: neria surana lavellan #neria & mahanon & rosha #clan lavellan #dalish elves #they love each other really #rosha is an unending beam of sunshine and I'd die for her #I wrote this instead of sleeping so excuse any errors lol #inspired by my favorite skyrim weapon uwu

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crossdressingdeath · 2 years

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Regarding Cullen's argument: I found out recently that the official story in-game for what happened in Kinloch Hold, regardless of which side the Warden chose, is that the templars were the ones who liberated the Circle from demons. Vivienne herself believes this, and it is no surprise Cullen, who was literally there at the time, also speaks as though this is truth. People believe templars are competent through propaganda alone.

It's the fact that Cullen was there that makes it ridiculous that he's arguing the Templars saved everyone, though. Out of everyone in the Inquisition except Leliana he should be the most aware that the Templars will straight up abandon their responsibilities the moment it gets tough! Hell, they abandoned him too; he had to be saved by the Warden, in a party that I believe is guaranteed to include at least one mage (I don't think Wynne is optional? Might be wrong). I get that that Templar pride runs deep no matter how many times he says he's not a Templar anymore, but this is not a situation where you should be letting your pride take the lead given the entire world is at stake here. I get that they really needed someone at the war table to suggest siding with the Templars just to make that option seem at all viable, but still! "I was a Templar, I know what they're capable of-" You mean running away the moment things get dangerous? Come on, man, you know better than this. If I was going to pick an advisor to really go to bat for the Templars I actually would've gone for Cassandra, who wasn't at Kinloch Hold and isn't a close friend of Leliana's and so is the most likely to be working entirely off of the propaganda. I know that Cullen's advisory role is basically "Suggest all the moves that are immoral, stupid, generally dickish or some combination thereof" like 90% of the time, but even so, this is just idiotic.

Also: of course the official story for Kinloch Hold is that the Templars saved everyone. I'm not even surprised. Couldn't possibly suggest the Chantry's pet guard dogs are worthless for anything but torturing children, now could they? I wish there was an option when Vivienne brought it up to at least suggest that she talk to Leliana, who was there (potentially, and at least knows the people who were) and knows what really happened...

#dragon age inquisition #asks #anon

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yr-obedt-cicero · 2 years

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We're going through this whole FUCKING album because every single song IS about John Laurens and I am RIGHT

I'll cut this into multiple asks because if I don't it'll be way too fucking long and I'll also go insane <3 Also I will cut out unnecessary parts of songs (mostly parts that repeat for brevity)

And the songs are linked because. Dropkick Murphy has such a sound and I swear I lose my fucking MIND over them they have just such a SOUND you don't UNDERSTADN THEUR SOUND SIHPIWD AH XOEU DSAGVN IUEQWDTNG VUOYE

Walk Away:

So you say you fell in love

D o u b t . John is marrying Martha and says he loves her, but we, the audience, knows he doesn't, hence the "so you say." Alternatively, this could also be about Kinloch and their breakup.

And you're gonna get married Raise yourself a family How simple life can be

Self explanatory

Somewhere it all went wrong And your plan just fell apart And you ain't got the heart To finish what you started

Ngl there's a few ways I like interpreting this. Either it starts when Jemmy dies, when John and Francis breakup, or when the war breaks out. But no matter which, the ending lines are talking about John leaving Europe to fight.

The ones that you loved The ones that you left behind The ones that you said you tried to find They tried to find you

This is. About his family. His siblings, his wife and daughter, whichever, both. Like. Idk what to say here because *clenches fists* It's about his family you don't understand IT'S ABOUT HIS FAMILY

Somewhere it all went wrong And your plan just fell apart And you ain't got the heart To finish what you started You walked out that door To find out where you belong To fulfill your own selfish dreams I think you might have forgotten

The ones that you loved The ones that you left behind The ones that you said you tried to find They tried to find you

Okay again this is about John leaving his family behind to fight in the war, and perhaps the underlying reason of getting away from Martha 'cause y'know. he doesn't love her. Which I do think could historically be a possibility, but certainly not the main reason why he left.

Worker's Song:

First of all. I'd like to say I have two interpretations of this song. The first one is it's about the aides, which I'll detail below. The second is it's just about the Culper Ring. It's Woodhull complaining he gets no credit and that's it that's the song and it works so well especially because of "Who's given a gun and then pushed to the fore/And expected to die for the land of our birth/Though we've never owned one lousy handful of earth?"

Yeah, this one's for the workers who toil night and day By hand and by brain to earn your pay Who for centuries long past for no more than your bread Have bled for your countries and counted your dead

Okay like??? I swear half the time I don't have to even explain what I mean here likglj,gul. It's THEM. It's the AIDES. They're so UNDERAPPRECIATED. DO YOU UNDERSTAND.

In the factories and mills, in the shipyards and mines We've often been told to keep up with the times For our skills are not needed, they've streamlined the job And with sliderule and stopwatch our pride they have robbed

More meta but like. Do you understand. Aides won't be needed one day. They'll be replaced by technology. Do you understand.

We're the first ones to starve, we're the first ones to die The first ones in line for that pie in the sky And we're always the last when the cream is shared out For the worker is working when the fat cat's about

They WORK. So MUCH. Do you GET IT. And they're FORGOTTEN. IJYGFLYUOBYRJGTFB&OYUTFHFJYBGLHKJ

And when the sky darkens and the prospect is war Who's given a gun and then pushed to the fore And expected to die for the land of our birth Though we've never owned one lousy handful of earth?

they're FORGOTTEN. WE DON'T CARE ABOUT THEM. CRYING SCREAMING THROWING UP DO YOU UNDERSTAND UYTBUKYTBUKJVTGKUJUBTGB

And all of these things the worker has done From tilling the fields to carrying the gun We've been yoked to the plough since time first began And always expected to carry the can

THEY. DID SO MUCH. THEY FOUGHT AND THEY HAD LIVES AND THEY DID THINGS KYTHDYLKHMRVNBFIVTHRCVFJVTHRGFJ

I'm normal :)

Especially with the last lyrics of Worker's song, they all fit quite well!

#amrev #american history #american revolution #historical john laurens #john laurens #queries #maip macrothorax #dearest mutuals #my husband <3

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massgrav · 6 months

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My knees won't bend My hands won't fold I swore dissent on your Father

—

Will I ever tire of drawing him? no. Am I willing to seek help? also no

(Alternate version under the cut)

#please reblog if you like it!#lyrics: draconian - the sethian #uldred #dragon age origins #blood mage #circle of magi #kinloch hold #dragon age #possession #pride demon #pride abomination #dark art #dark fantasy #traditional art #digital editing

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avrorean · 1 month

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Below is a comprehensive breakdown of the entirety of Nanna’s world state & decisions of Origins that this blog will follow. Each primary quest is summarized for those who aren’t familiar with the first game or the setting, as well as a list of notable decisions made during the mission. Companion quests included at the bottom! 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: All quests that follow are written in the order of Nanna’s personal progression through the game. All of my muse’s emotional development specific to the game timeline will be written at specified points assuming prior events/quests have occurred. If this conflicts with your muse’s own timeline or there is a specific plot point you want to explore at these points, please message me before the intended interaction. *: may not be as canonically depicted

𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐒

Nanna Amell had never known anything but the Circle Tower, and the confined life of a mage was all she’d ever expected to live. This, too, had been no different; in the dead of night the time come for her Harrowing, her final trial to leave the realms of Apprenticeship and prove her worth as a Circle Mage to the Chantry and its Templars. The Test? Enter the Fade and face down a demon, and leave once again without its hold on her. Terrifying, yet straightforward.

But all hopes of simplicity vanished as soon as Nanna entered the Fade. Nothing was as it seemed in the realm of dreams, and Nanna found herself with hostile spirits on all sides. Her only guide is Mouse, a former mage Apprentice who had failed his Harrowing and lost his body, now eternally drifting meekly through the Fade. Together, however, Nanna is able to navigate her way through the maze of this warped reality, finding aid in both a Spirit of Valor as well as a Demon of Sloth. With Mouse's own confidence grown, they face down the demon of the trial together. And yet, even in victory, Nanna knows something is....wrong. His prior dealings with the demon aside, Mouse's story and desires don't make sense, and it takes Nanna only some firm pressure for him to reveal his true form. A Demon of Pride who, with her rejection of him, releases her from the Fade with only these words: true tests never end. She awakes again in the Tower, uneasy but whole. Finally, she would move up in the Tower as a full-fledged Mage.

But the celebrations were not to last. Her childhood friend Jowan approaches her with a daring plan of escape with his secret love, Lily. A rumor has spread about his using blood magic, and he's lined up for Tranquility as punishment much to Nanna's disbelief. So the three scheme themselves down into the lowest levels of Kinloch Hold, past magic traps and cursed monoliths down to the Phylactery chamber to destroy Jowan's phylactery so he and Lily could live together freely. But at the height of their victory, and only then did Nanna and Lily both discover the truth... Jowan was a blood mage. As he flees the Tower, Duncan, the visiting Grey Warden, intervenes on her behalf with the Right of Conscription to sweep her out from under the Templars' wrath. But at what cost?

Talked Valor into giving her a weapon

Rejected Mouse

Spoke to Irving, but did not tell him Jowan and Lily’s plan

Spoke to Enchanter Sweeney to get the Rod of Fire

Helped Leorah clear out the infestation regardless

𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐑

By the time of Duncan and Nanna’s arrival, the southern wilds of Ferelden are being torn apart by war and taint. King Cailan’s army holds the line at Ostagar, and believes victory is at hand against the hoard, yet doubts that this is truly the coming of a Blight, robbing him of the battle of legends he so yearns for. Duncan is less assured. He turns his attentions to preparing his newest recruits to become fully recognized Grey Wardens, bolstering their numbers against the threat he knows all too certainly lingers just over the horizon.

Alongside the knight Ser Jory and a thief named Daveth, the Warden Alistair leads them into the Korcari Wilds for their test - collect the blood of the Darkspawn and find the treaties hidden by the Grey Wardens.

It was there at the fallen Warden tower that they encountered Morrigan, a feared and fabled Witch of the Wilds, who had been watching their progression through the wilds. In the depths of those swamps, her mother Flemeth had kept the treaties safe when the seal that protected them throughout the years faded. She returned them in prime condition as well as an offered, if cryptic, warning of what was to come.

That very evening, the three recruits underwent the Joining, an initiation ritual that all recruits undergo before they can become Grey Wardens - one with all too steep a price. Of the three present, Nanna was the only survivor, and as per King Cailan’s orders, was thusly sent with Alistair to light the beacon. However, by the time they arrived the Tower of Ishal was already overrun by Darkspawn. When their numbers became too great Loghain called his forces to retreat rather than send them into the valley, and the battle was lost. All would have died were it not for the witch Flemeth, who swooped down in the form of a large bird and rescued Nanna and Alistair, the last surviving Wardens, tended their wounds and sent them along with her daughter Morrigan on a journey to end the Blight themselves.

Spoke to and fed the deserter the guard’s meal

Cured the sick mabari

𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆

Having left the Korcari Wilds with new purpose in mind, Morrigan leads the two Grey Wardens (and the newly acquired mabari, Rune) north from the wilds and Ostagar to the village of Lothering, now serving as a safehaven for refugees in the wake of the departure of their Bann. The air of hopelessness is telling however as, despite the attempts of Templars and Clerics to maintain order, it becomes more and more apparent by the people eager to flee that this village is not expected to last in the wake of the encroaching Darkspawn army.

Without army or ally, the small band must figure out their course: to seek out the allies of the Grey Warden treaties or take the attack directly to Loghain. Neither of which hold very promising outcomes, considering the inexperience and disadvantage they have compared to that of their enemies. They take only a short time to chart their course – gathering a handful of companions somehow more unusual than their current company all the while – and as the promise of darkness rises, Nanna and Alistair begin to realize it will only get harder from here.

Scared away the Highwaymen without fighting them

Gave the lost boy a silver for food

Helps the homeless Elven family*

Calmed the Chasind Wilder

Helped at the Chantry Board

Convinced the merchant and the Chantry Sister to compromise

Released Sten without the Revered Mother’s permission

Reluctantly recruits Leliana

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓

Their path set and holding out hope to reach the nearest Dalish Clan before they fled to the north, Nanna and company travel to the Brecilian Outskirts only to find that the Dalish face a threat all their own. A virulent outbreak of lycanthropy threatens to destroy the clan, leaving them to die a slow and painful death or become twisted into the very beings that threaten to tear them asunder: werewolves. The Keeper Zathrian enlists the help of the Grey Wardens, explaining that the source lies in a wolf known as Witherfang, and that the cure for his people may very well lie in the heart of the wolf, and in turn he is willing to pledge their numbers to their fight against the Blight. And so was Nanna tasked with hunting down the Weres and bringing Zathrien the heart of Witherfang.

But things are not so clear cut as they may seem. Quickly it becomes apparent that the clan of Weres are intelligent, having given themselves names and a reason for attack that clearly runs far deeper than mere animal instinct. Their drive for vengeance rejects offers to talk, and uses the magics of the forest to their advantage. With the aid of the Grand Oak, they made their way deep into the heart of the forest to the Brecilian Ruins, where they find opportunity to parlay with the weres and meet with the true face of Witherfang – The Lady of the Forest. She tells Nanna the truth of Zathrien and his vengeance, behind his long life and the Werewolves alike, and Nanna finds she cannot follow through with her original and instead seeks the Keeper out to find a peaceful solution to breaking the curse that plagues both sides.

Zathrien, however, is not so willing. Centuries of vengeance runs deep and rotten, and he retaliates in a rage. After the battle, he at last surrenders and together, both he and The Lady release the curse at last at the cost of their own lives.

The Werewolves are cured, the Dalish healed, and the newly appointed Keeper Lanayla swears the clan’s alliance with the Grey Wardens.

Cammen & Gheyna brought together

Helped the Grand Oak; traded for the acorn from the Mad Hermit

Retrieved the ironbark for Varathorn; gives all of it to the clan

Rescues Deygan and brings him back to the camp

Kills Danyla*

Freed the Elvhen spirit; gained Arcane Warrior ability & memories*

Convinced Zathrien to break the curse; brokered peace

Dalish Recruited

𝐎𝐑𝐙𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑

In the heart of the Dwarven City, Nanna finds herself once again in the center of political struggle rather than finding their promised allies. Orzammar and on the brink of a civil war of its own; King Endrin is dead, and both his son Bhelen and his right hand Harrowmont vie for the throne they each claim right to. And without a king, there will be no one to send them aid from the Dwarves – the people who may very well be their most valued allies against the Blight. Their options for neutrality dwindle all too quickly.

Having seen only the surface of these issues, Nanna seeks out Lord Harrowmont – a seemingly more gentle man whose abilities in leadership seem to so positively effect the people of Orzammar that they hope for his rulership – but treachery and each candidate’s fear of each other sends Nanna into a gauntlet meant to prove her loyalty. After winning the Proving and ridding Dust Town of Jarvia, her last test is to go into the Deep Roads to find the Paragon Branka; if not alive, then her remains will show the ‘Ancestor’s favor’ for Harrowmont.

This attracts the attention of her husband, Oghren, who had been trying for two years to gain this very opportunity. With his help and maps, they are guided through the maze of Darkspawn, lost cities and fallen thaigs, at last finding Branka amid a barricade deep in the caverns. But all is not well, as she seems to have gone mad in her search for the Anvil of the Void, willingly sacrificing their entire house and allowing their women to go through the worst of the Darkspawn's machinations to have bodies to throw at Caridin’s traps. Nanna and her party themselves fight their way through this gauntlet, and to their surprise, they find the old Paragon Caridin within, trapped in the body of a metal golem that has kept him alive all this time.

He begs her to destroy the Anvil of the Void, for if anyone else were to get their hands on it, more golems would be created by his same method: the sacrificing of another life. Branka insists to keep the Anvil to build an army make the dwarves great again, one she’ll swear to the Warden, but gaining an army by sacrificing the lives of dwarves en masse is not a price Nanna is willing to pay. Branka perishes in the following battle and Nanna, allowing Caridin to end his life with peace, swears to destroy the Anvil so none could recreate his work.

They return to Orzammar, crown in hand, to find the Assembly gathered and nearly in an uproar, demanding a vote for the new king before she enters. When the time comes to crown the king however, Nanna cannot find it in her to still endorse Harrowmont after everything she has seen. So, invoking the favor of the Paragons, she crowns Bhelen the new king of Orzammar.

Initially sides with Harrowmont; fights in the Provings & kills Jarvia in his name

Convinces the other proving members to fight

Convinces Zerlinda’s father to let her go home with her son

Agrees to arrange for Dagna to go to the Circle of Magi

Gives Leliana ‘Schmooples” the nug.

Gives Nadezda coin in kindness, and pays her later for her information

Sides with Caridin against Branka and destroys the Forge

Crowns Bhelen king

𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄

Fully equips militia; Dwyn recruited

Tomas was killed

Pays Dwyn for Sten’s sword*

Jowan freed, but told to run away and not to return

Saves Valena, the Smith’s daughter

Chooses to seek the mages to free Connor from possession

Enters the Fade to face the demon herself

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐈𝐑𝐂𝐋𝐄

With the fate of young Conner and the lives of Redcliffe hanging in the balance, Nanna can no longer avoid the inevitable. She must return home to the Circle of Magi to seek help from her fellow mages to seek their aid, both for Conner and the Blight encroaching ever more on their doorstep. But she would find there was more truth to the rumors she’d heard on the road than she’d dared to believe.

Their arrival finds Kinloch Hold in a disastrous state; wounded Templars litter the great hall, blood stained across the stony floors, and a barricade at the door that would lead to the halls she once called her home and the battered forces of Knight-Commander Greagoir at the ready for battle. The worst has come to pass; mages throughout the Tower gathered to rebel against their Templar jailers, turning to blood magic amass overwhelming forces for the sake of freedom. But the coup has gone wrong, and now each floor is littered with demons, raging Abominations and the bodies of innocents.

For Greagoir, there is only one option going forward: The Rite of Annulment. To Nanna’s horror, he’d already sent the request to Denerim’s Grand Cleric for authorization, and she strikes a reluctant agreement with the Knight-Commander that the rite will be revoked if she can fight her way to the heart of this darkness, end this threat and return with First Enchanter Irving at her side. The clock is ticking for her to save what remains of her people.

Sided with mages

Killed the Blood Mage that surrendered on the second floor

Saves Irving and the head enchanters with the Litany of Adralla

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒

There is no time to grieve. With Connor free from the influence of the demon, the Arlessa and Bann Teagan plead one more task from the Wardens, to heal Arl Eamon from Jowan’s poison. Yet with no cure to be found, they desperately turn to Isolde’s frail hope: the sacred ashes of Andraste.

Killed the Weylon imposter

Sent Brother Genetivi back to Denerim

Rejected Father Kolgrim’s proposition to defile the ashes

Awoke the Dragon guardian*

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏

Tricks Sophia into sealing the portal first

Allows Avernus to live; demands humane experiments

Drinks the Alchemic Concoction

𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐌

Completes the Crime Wave quests, & earns the title ‘The Dark Wolf’

Completes Ignancio’s assassination quests

Surrenders to Cauthrien to allow Anora and co. to escape

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓

Faces Loghain herself in single combat

Anora made sole ruler

Loghain is spared and recruited; Alistair leaves the party for good*

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐌

Loghain performs the Dark Ritual

Morrigan fought in the battle with the Archdemon

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒

All companions recruited ☼ ･°･⊱ Alistair reunited with Goldanna; encouraged to help her out; Hardened. Romanced. (note: for personal hcs and development only. Not applied to any rp partners unless discussed in depth) ☼ ･°･⊱ Defeated Flemeth in battle to obtain her Grimoire and return it to Morrigan ☼ ･°･⊱ Killed Taliesen alongside Zevran to grant his freedom. Allows him to choose for himself where he goes from there. ☼ ･°･⊱ Leliana taken to Denerim to confront her old Bardmaster; Marjolaine is killed; Hardened. ☼ ･°･⊱ Wynne taken back to the Dalish camp, able to reconcile with Aneirin ☼ ･°･⊱ Bargained with Dwyn, Sten’s sword returned ☼ ･°･⊱ Oghren taken to the Spoiled Princess to reconcile with Felsi; successfully brought together. ☼ ･°･⊱ Shale taken to Cadash Thaig to find their name and former life. ☼ ･°･⊱ Loghain taken back to Ostagar; given Maric's shield.

#I got tired of looking at it I'll fill in the summaries of the last few later IGOFJDG

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compendiumhistoria · 11 months

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This post has me devastated thinking about Zarrin & Elrevas in the same worldstate, discussing legacies, post-Hakkon pre-Trespasser or so. Just.

"You're Dalish. And yet you're seen as an Andrastian symbol so bright, flocks swarm to you. They'll drown out all that you are until they don't need you to believe in anymore."

"That outcome... would not surprise me."

"And this doesn't bother you? For all the Dalish pride themselves on remembering old ways and their pride as elves itself?"

"I understand you keep quite a few secrets. Want to hold another?"

"...Sure."

"Not much was known about the old Inquisition. But we found out that the last Inquisitor was a Dalish mage. All his efforts were for order and peace in the world, to keep the world going. So of course, all aspects of his identity were erased."

"And so of course, my question stands taller."

"I've read about you too, Surana: you lived in Denerim before you were taken to the Circle, correct?"

"Mother and I traveled a bit, but Denerim was where we ended up, yes. We weren't talking about me--"

"But I am going to. I've seen some reports of abuse and tight restraints on autonomy particularly at Kinloch. The transcripts of the Landsmeet where you revealed Loghain had dealt in slavery, selling out the alienage's people. As an elf mage, you've made your stances on these matters no secret despite your Wardenhood.

"What then, Surana, kept you from looking at the state of all things and saying fuck it, let the Blight take them? What impulse led you to save the world, even if it would've killed you and would've never thanked you for it?"

"...Hm. What legacies we'll leave, Lavellan."

"At least we'll make the shemlen work hard to erase us and our work. "

#there was more but I GOTTA sleep #Kris writes #DA #Zarrin #Elrevas

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kinlochstories · 6 years

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[❤] Lucretia

there is beauty in simplicity.

#kinloch pride #lioden #image #pride member queue #she only has four marks #sometimes simple is best

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stolenmagi · 3 years

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it’s sinday, homies, and if you think lust is ros’s sin of choice you’d be wrong. it’s not even greed. surprisingly, not pride either. (though his harrowing featured a pride demon, still no.)

it’s envy.

it’s found in the way he gazes upon the vallaslin of other dalish, the fact he lost the title of keeper in exchange for a shem’s life. he doesn’t want that life anymore, necessarily. he knows if he ever were to return, he’d never become a keeper. he has no illusions of that. he wishes he could have had that choice for his life, and resents those who did.

it’s found when he’s behind the closed, barred windows of the circle tower. shems came here by choice. they gave him no such thing, they stripped away his culture, they stripped away who he was and left him half of what he could have been. they considered him stupid when he disobeyed. but there were others who had it easier. far easier. he envies the innocence that allowed them that path.

it’s found in the way he looks at wardens who enjoy their work. why do they feel joy in the life he’s had forced down his throat? why do they get to say who lives or dies, when they’re on death’s door? why did they bring him, of all people, back from the brink of death, when he wished for death in that moment? even in the scenario where the hero of ferelden befriends him, there are some things he can’t forgive easily.

it’s found when he learns of the studies allowed in tevinter. there’s nothing he can do to get to that place, not in the current condition he’s in (what with the calling; he’s no idiot, even if he left he’d still be trapped) but they are allowed so much freedom. he wants it. he covets it. but he can’t have it, even if he tried for it. he is, after all, also an elf.

this man is an envious little bastard, and it drives him. it demands his attention, and drowns out most everything else.

#canon.#sinday.#i know there's a lot of wack stuff in his backstory and in this post #it's just so generalized in this post [shrugs] idk how to tag it lol #i pull from history with ros so his experience in kinloch very much matches that of a residential school program for indigenous peoples #and also the treatment of mental health within those residential schools #i'm in teacher ed i've studied this stuff in-depth and it's horrific but it happened irl #i don't think many - if any - writers in the darp community address the trauma there #i personally pride myself in focus on accuracy #but also the space for healing within his story #without that space i wouldn't be able to write this #[lays down on the floor]#pls i'm just here for this mans working through his stress and trauma and turning it to activism #bc i wish i had his energy even tho it's not easy for either of us

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washettes · 6 years

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happy pride

well wishes to all historical lgbt folk

#pride #history #john laurens #alexander hamilton #francis kinloch #sappho #alexander the great #marsha p johnson #bayard rustin #audre lorde

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elfyourmother · 2 years

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FFXIV Black OC Week: Day 3

“What was their childhood like?”

I was born unto a place which made the Brume resemble the Pillars, in truth. Twas naught but Mother and I--but her vallaslin was no blessing as it had been among Clan Halathren, rather a curse to the city of Denerim. It marked her as wild and Dalish, and she could not find work. And so she was the local eccentric, reading fortunes in the market until the city guard chased her back behind the gates which imprisoned and kept us safe by turns, we elvhen of Denerim. There, in the alienage, Fereldan hounds were set upon we children for sport, the laughter of their shem masters loud and hateful.

But still, there was the warmth of community, of tending the vhenadahl, of foraging with Mother for the herbs she used to tend the sick--and betimes swindle the shems when they did not sic their hounds upon us. Sickly and malnourished as I was, my tiny stomach knotted with hunger more times than I can count, I clung to her colorful skirts and learned the names of herbs, of stars in Elvhen, the stories of the Creators our people held dear. Her Dalish wisdom was all I possessed--and the gentle spirit who watched over me for so long as I could remember, for I knew Her before I knew mine own name. Until my constant companion and self-appointed protector, little Serena Tabris, skinned her knee, and I laid my hands upon the wound as that Spirit guided me, and she was healed. Then, I had my father’s gift, Mother said in awe and wonder--the legacy of a storied lineage of which I should be proud. There was much magic in the Surana line, of course. Twas why the old Keeper deemed her unfit for him, and she fled the clan back to the city she so loathed, for her pride could not suffer their condescension.

But when the templars came, and took me from her, I had only seen my eighth winter. The Chantry cared not; small and sickly as I was, I held a dangerous seed within me that must be tightly controlled in the name of their distant and uncaring god. And so Kinloch Hold became my home, such that it was: a forbidding tower in the center of a lake malms and malms from everything and everyone I ever knew.

I admit, for all I wept for my mother, the Circle was a gilded cage: for the first time in my short life, I did not want for shelter, neither for food. But a cage it was nonetheless. Mayhap I did not realize it until I spoke of these things to my Sharlayan comrades and lovers, and scandalized them with how I was treated. I never believed the Chantry sisters when they called my gift a curse, for Mamae taught me otherwise, and it was still a far better life than I could have had in the alienage, where I would have known little more freedom in the end, crushed by poverty and married off for the good of my community. Nowhere in Thedas could an Elf achieve such respect, such dignity and authority, as the Circle of Magi. I learned to read, I was educated, I was taught to think. The petty indignities we were made to suffer, the leering of the templars as I blossomed--one becomes numb to such things, after a fashion. Even our blood was taken from us, the better to hunt us should we think to escape, but it was a home to me. I knew love there, as much as resentment. I made it mine own.

Eorzea was a revelation, once my memories returned. The cruelties of mine upbringing were made stark in a land where my gifts were celebrated rather than feared. Where Hydaelyn’s Blessing made me a heroine of the realm, not an Abomination in waiting. (By the Fury, if only I had known who that gentle Spirit was all along!) Does a bird truly know she is caged, until she is set free to soar the skies?

And as I walk amongst the vast libraries of Sharlayan, I see young scholars following their fancies without being torn from their families, nurtured and molded free of fear and condemnation, and weep for what I was--what I did not and could not have, in that dark world of prejudice and superstition which birthed me. How might I have flourished, had I been born to the Leveilleurs in all their attendant wealth and privilege in a city which valued knowledge--rather than backwater Ferelden, under the boot of the Chantry, caging mages out of fear of what Tevinter wrought?

I would not be Gisele des Fortemps, no. My youth shaped me in ways both tangible and incomprehensible. That I as yet thrive in this land I have so come to cherish, that I have mastered every conceivable art of the arcane to which I have ever set my mind and aether? Tis despite the suffering of my youth, not because of it. And I did not deserve it, any of it. So sayeth Urianger, and Shtola, and Krile, and the twins, and Thancred, and for all I cannot bear their pity, I cling to their words as a child might a blanket.

Tis what I tell myself, when I begin to weep.

#gisele surana #ffxiv black oc week #sorry this is so da heavy but #she’s isekai

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thessalian · 2 years

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Molly!Warden vs the Fade

The Blackmarsh Undying

Molly: This Fade shit is overrated. This is nugshit.

Anders: I have so many questions right now.

Molly: *snarrrrrrrrl*

Anders: But now is not the time, I get it! Look, I’m sure there’s someone around here you can stab to get us back!

Molly: There are too many blood magic parallels for me to be cool with that, but okay, fine. But I guess since we’re here, we’d better try to fix those rips in the Veil. Anders, you’re the one who actually goes to the Fade and remembers it when you wake up; what are we looking at here?

Desire Demons: *doing that pose thing around Fade-side Veil tears*

Molly: Oh, these. I’d say things about the scenery but LADIES, NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR FONDLING YOURSELVES!

Nathaniel: She is taking this far too calmly.

Anders: She’s in a homicidal rage.

Nathaniel: You’ve known her a whole day longer than I have. You should be aware that for her, that is calm. She should be having some kind of breakdown.

Molly: I UNFUCKED THE CIRCLE TOWER AT KINLOCH HOLD AND THERE WAS A SIGHT WORSE THAN PURPLE WENCHES THERE, LET ME TELL YOU! NOW KINDLY MAKE WITH THE MURDERING!

Anders: ...You learn to cope, I suppose?

Nathaniel: This is all rubbing off on me. I’m not sure I like it.

Stabnation: *ensues*

Several shades and desire demons later...

Whimpering Woman: Oh no! Undead! Come hide in the crypt!

Molly: She’s freaking out about undead. Here.

Sigrun: Bets on us walking into a trap?

Molly: You want someone who’ll take a sucker bet, you should talk to Leske.

Sigrun: Isn’t he, like, dead? And dwarven, so not here?

Molly: We’re here. I take nothing for granted anymore.

In the crypt

Whimpering Woman: Ooh, you came! Your strength will be mine!

Molly: Lady, you want to know how much we slaughtered to get here? You really want to start this?

Sigrun: She killed an archdemon, y’know.

Whimpering Woman: ...Fine. I guess at least you dealing with that Baroness will do me some good here.

Molly: I am so tired of being a piece in other people’s games, I swear.

Anders: But if this Baroness brought a whole village here, maybe she can send us back?

Molly: She sent a whole village here. I vote stabbing. I just don’t like it benefitting some other demon, but I honestly don’t have time or inclination to stab someone else I don’t really have to today.

Whimpering Woman: ...I suddenly feel intensely lucky. I’m going away now. *poof*

Molly: Oh good. I really didn’t want to wear out my stabbing arm more than necessary just now.

Undead: *popping out of crypts* RUUUUUUUUU

Molly: Oh, fuck a nug.

And over at the manor...

Guard: New people?!?

Molly: Just don’t ask. What’s the what?

Guard: An ally trying to mount a revolution but most of us are too scared. We can’t defeat the Baroness without an army!

Molly: How about a smiter of many dragons and most of an army of darkspawn? Will that stand in for an army?

Justice: ...Apparently, yes it will!

Molly: Oh. Hey. Hi. Which concept are you?

Anders: ...Molly, what--?

Justice: I ... am a spirit of justice. But ... how did you--?

Molly: I had a friend who hooked up kind of literally with a spirit of faith. It was a thing. Right. Baroness Fade-Abduction needs a stabbing.

Justice: ...I find I like you.

Anders: I still say we could bargain with her.

Molly: She’s a blood mage who’s been living in the Fade for, like, Ages. Literal Ages. She’s about as close to being a demon as you can get ... unless her spirit got turned into a demon or something. I mean, can that happen?

Anders: I don’t know. I know spirits can--

Justice: WE WILL NOT BE DISCUSSING THAT.

Anders: But I always thought humans were more complex.

Baroness: They tried to burn me for blood magic and now try to rebel after I’ve taken what is rightfully mine! MINE MINE MINE!

Molly: And now you think...?

Anders: Pride demon.

The First: This one promises to send me to the Mother again! You are in the way!

Sigrun: Anders...

Anders: I know, I know, she’s working with the talking darkspawn now, fine, she dies.

Molly: This Fade-ripping fucknugget first, though.

Stabnation: *ensues*

Baroness: ENOUGH! YOU! MONSTER-MAN! YOU DIE! AND THE REST OF YOU STOP FUCKING UP MY COURTYARD!

More magic that will look familiar in a couple of games’ time: *happens*

Back in the real world

Molly: Well, thank fuck for that.

Justice: Um. This. Is. This is a dead human. That I am currently stuck in.

Molly: Hey, it could have been worse! When I said that spirit of faith hooked up with my friend, I meant kind of literally. Like, sharing a body, kind of thing.

Sigrun: Then again ... I mean, I think I prefer my being dead being mostly metaphorical rather than walking around in a rotting meat shell.

Molly: Not. Now. Sigrun. Actually, we need to make sure that Baroness bitch didn’t get out when the rest of us did so I’m going to have to ask you to go very sneaky back to Vigil’s Keep and let them know ... okay, some of the bullshit. No need to mention our more-deceased-than-you friend here.

Justice: She is ... entirely too calm about this.

Anders: It’s a Warden thing. You learn to cope, apparently.

Justice: Well ... it would be just to avenge the man whose shell I am currently wearing...

Molly: Hey! Justice! We found some armour that’s better than this shit Kristoff was wearing! Here! Try it out! Oh, and this shield I picked up awhile ago, and this mace is way better than Kristoff’s. If you want to avenge Kristoff, maybe wear stuff that’s better than the stuff he died in.

Justice: ...................

Nathaniel: You ... do get used to it. Somehow.

Back at the manor, now unlocked

Baroness: Oh look, it’s the real world.

Molly: Anders, pay up.

Anders: Oh, fine. Though I did say you were probably right before, you know.

Baroness: Wut.

Molly: Look, our friend here landed in a convenient body when he turned up back here. We managed to cling to our own, both trips. You, on the other hand, didn’t have a convenient body that wasn’t dust or bones or both. Unless you wanted a darkspawn, which...

Anders: Demons don’t. They don’t even usually like corpses all that much. Spirits are a little less picky, apparently.

Molly: So you’re a demon, who managed to bring yourself across the Veil. So want to show your true shape and let us stab you properly? Or do you want to die without a fight?

Baroness: *goes pride demon*

Nathaniel: ......................wut?!?

Molly; Anders; Justice: Meh.

Justice: I have seen its kind before.

Anders: You should have seen what I went through at my Harrowing.

Molly: Uldred turned into one of these fuckers. I made him so dead...

Nathaniel: ...I will think of it as a very magically adept ogre. I will think of it as a very magically adept ogre. I will--

Baroness: *rips open a hole in the Veil*

Nathaniel: Um.

Molly: Oh, FUCK YOU TWICE, YOU JERK SOCK!

Stabnation: *ensues, if rather protractedly*

Later...

Nathaniel: After all that, we’re climbing this hill again.

Molly: Hey, I found that last bit of dragon bone! If I want to take the skull home, I’d rather it be in one piece. *inserts bone chunk into skull*

Spectral Dragon: *flying overhead* RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

Anders: Molly. Molly, no...

Nathaniel: I know that grin, Molly. No!

Justice: To leave it living after summoning it, when it might devour innocents, is unjust!

Anders: If I managed to survive physical travel to and from the Fade, a talking darkspawn, and a pride demon, and I die to a dragon made of lightning, I am going to slap you when we get back across the Veil, Molly!

Molly: Good luck finding me! I don’t go there when I die, remember?

Anders: ...knickerweasels.

#Molly!Warden #Thess liveblogs Dragon Age

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