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#valaslin
obligatedart · 6 months
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I simply can’t get enough of pretty elves
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whoisnotmyname · 11 months
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i couldn’t decide if he was gonna be a warrior or rogue so surprise to no one! I made him a twin lol. He doesn’t have a name yet, and i’m still on the fence about what his valaslin will be but
two of them
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thecoffeerain · 1 year
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Blackwall x Aodhan Lavellan
With his unwilling curse being red lyrium infused valaslin, Aodhan believes the only man close to him he can be around and not hurt is Blackwall... how wrong was he..?
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palipunk · 8 months
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do cullenasma's kids consider themselves dalish? did they raise them in/with dalish people and customs?
They do! Asma and Cullen do spend a lot of time at the clan after trespasser with their children - Asma makes sure her children are very well in touch with their dalish heritage, it’s something very important to her as her children are part of her and therefore part of the clan.
They discussed pretty thoroughly about how their children would be raised and they agreed they would be taught about both sides of their heritage (I kinda projected onto Cullen bc he’s a farmers boy and in my eyes he’s fellahi) - Adalah and Ateef, the twins, permanently remain with the clan when they become adults and Safi, their eldest, gets his valaslin when he becomes of age. Plus their uncle Ashura always welcomes them in the clan with treats and gifts.
(I don’t ascribe to the “half elves don’t look elven” BioWare lore because it’s weird and I’m indigenous and I hate it so it is done away 🫶)
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knife-eared-jan · 2 years
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There’s a lot of posts where people wonder how Merrill would react to Solas. I’m a bit worried myself tbh. But here’s a different one: Merrill meeting Morrigan!
All I want in life is for Merrill to get to have a chat with Morrigan where she finds out that 1.)  Asha'bellanar, whom she met and spoke to, is actually Mythal, THE goddess whose valaslin she freaking carries and therefore once chose to committ to with a tattoo on her face for LIFE, like can you imagine what that would mean to her!!! 2.) what Eluvians can really do and what significance they had to Elvhenan 3.) that really she probably managed to fix hers a long time ago and all she is missing is the password and why yes, Morrigan would love to take a look actually 4.) that it makes no bloody sense for a demon to have been bound inside the mirror that somehow also could be let out by Marethari without activating the eluvian so really Marethari was full of shit and her death isn’t Merrill’s fault. 5.) MYTHAL HERSELF FREAKING CALLED HER BRIGHT I’M GOING TO CURL UP IN A BALL AND CRY NOW. 
Not even going into scenarios where the Warden is a Dalish elf...
Please just let Merrill befriend Morrigan. Can you imagine how her sweet little mind would just be blown. 
You know Morrigan would be weirded out by her unbridled enthusiam at first and try to keep her at a distance but Merrill would just worm her way into her heart by being oblivious to Morrigan’s initial coldness until Morrigan would realise that Merrill really is exceptionally bright and gifted at magic, equally doesn’t care about conventialism and social taboos around magic, and that they both share not just a goal but an obsession!
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inquisimer · 3 months
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Merrrr I am curious about “barris post-COTJ” and “vallaslin~~” pls and thank
thanks Niri!!
Ask me about a WIP :3
barris post-COTJ
This is a half-started piece about Acacia and Barris' first proper meeting on the way back to Skyhold after Champions of the Just. She's having a serious traumatic reaction to Envy messing around with her brain and he's a comforting shoulder and a good distraction from what Envy showed her of Cullen ;-;
valaslin~~
exactly what it says on the tin! a one-shot about Neria taking her vallaslin with Clan Lavellan and a bit of an exploration into her views on Dalish religion (religion in general) and her place in the clan
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transprincecaspian · 3 months
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tell me more about your mahariel! what subclass do you have planned? what valaslin does he have? (would he be good at bowling?)
Duelist and Bard are the subclasses I have planned for Nomaris! Mostly because archer is not a great class so I need the the attack rating and later I’ll need song of courage: I’m not sure how I’m gonna justify it in roleplay but it’ll work out!
Nomaris has Ghilan’nain’s valaslin which is really intentional to his backstory! Ghilan’nain is associated with the moon and so is Mahariel’s mother, who reportedly walking into the moonlight and never returned. Furthermore Ghilan’nain is called the mother of Halla and her valaslin is very uterine in shape. Because my Mahariel is a trans man this is important!!!
Also his silver hair! Ghilan’nain was said to have had the same before she was made a goddess in elven mythology. So all very intentional on my end:)
And he would be the best at bowling😭😭😭
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evangeline444 · 10 months
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glance, stature, stillness, night, texture, makeup, and change for the girl ever Dhaveria pls <33
THE CREATORS FAVORITE WEIRD GIRL!!
Glance: At first glance, what stands out most about your OC’s appearance? What’s their distinguishing features?
Dhaveira is albino so her pale skin, white hair and red eyes tend to grab people’s attention almost immediately. Her eyes especially tend to draw attention because of the contrast between red eyes and pale skin. Can i say that her distinguishing feature is that she kind of looks like a ghost?
Stature: What’s your OC’s body type? How tall are they? Do they wear clothing to accentuate their look or do they try to mask it?
Girly is 4’9”, birdboned and wispy as fuck. You could pick her up and put her in your pocket if you wanted to. I don’t think she really intentionally wears clothes to hide or accentuate her stature. She is pretty neutral about her stature most of time and doesn’t really mind if her wardrobe happens to accentuate it(unless someone is specifically poking fun at her about it)
Stillness: How does your OC act while still? Are they fidgety? Do they have any common gestures or tics? Does their clothing affect how they hold themselves?
She fidgets a lot, she spends alot of her time with the dead trying to claw their way back to the world through her and it leaves her restless and unable to relax. Because of this she wears a lot of little charms and bracelets that she can fidget with when her restlessness is particularly intense. Her clothes also have quite a lot of embroidery from her brother that she likes to trace over mindlessly. Her clothes and the additions she has made to them make it alot easier for her to stand still without feeling like she’s going to jump out of her own skin.
Night: What does your OC wear to sleep? Do they have a favorite pair of PJs, or are they more the birthday suit type?
She tends to wear nightgowns to bed, as i mentioned above most of her clothes have embroidery done by her brother and that includes her PJs. She also definitely steals articles of clothing from her loved ones to use as PJs sometimes because it makes her feel safe.
Texture: Does your OC favor any specific kinds of cloth or textures? Is there anything they can’t wear or don’t like? What sort of fabrics do they prefer?
Dhaveira has a very strong preference for fabrics with soft texture. She’s really sensitive to different textures and absolutely despises rough or scratchy textures, it makes her feel all itchy and makes her want to take off her skin (surprise surprise the weirdgirl is autistic and has sensory issues)
Makeup: Does your OC wear makeup? How often? What kind? Why do they wear makeup, do they like it?
I don’t think she wears makeup often, and when she does she really doesn’t wear much maybe a little bit of eyeshadow to draw more attention to her eyes and maybe some red or pink lip tint. Her cheeks are always really rosy so she has no need for blush. I think she likes accentuating her features, especially her eyes so she genuinely enjoys the rare occasions that she gets to do makeup.
Change: Has your OC drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?
Her appearance hasn’t changed much over the years, beyond her hair being significantly longer and the addition of more valaslin to her body. Besides the valaslin on her face she now has some on her hands, forearms, chest and back and she will likely continue to add more to it as time goes on. She is very proud of this change, because each valaslin marks a milestone in her life and her efforts to honor Falon’din. Her wardrobe has also changed slightly, mostly out of necessity because she was previously used to a much colder climate and now has had to adapt her wardrobe to a wider variety of climates.
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bryants-things · 2 years
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So this is my first fanfic. It’s a one shot from the Emerald Graves. I like the idea that my Inky is not invulnerable, that he’s a person who at times just loose patience. I my head cannon Solas managed to stop the anchor by using my inky’s mana instead of feeding of his body. So when he runs out of Mana things can get rather dramatic. I like having my companions relate to one another so I took the opportunity to write some scenes how they are getting along. Slowly learning to trust each other and making unlikely friendships, so here it is my first fanfic:
Under thé canope:
Maharon strech, his left arm tingling after closing one too many breaches. It seems they can head in any direction and run into one.
With good reason of course the emerald graves is where the elves made their last stand. Here among these dense forest is where the Dalish started the veil is thin from all the death this place has seen. “You alright bouncy?” Varric sais. The dalish mage seems lost in thought absentmindedly rubbing his left arm and the scar is pulsing angry, might have been to many. They all know what happens when he close to many breaches. Varric remember that night in the Hinterlands, they woke up to Lavellan screaming the anchor glowing in the dark. Varric has no desire to relive that night and he’s pretty sure it ain’t at the top of Lavellan’s list either. Vary he approach the elf, ready to bolt if the anchor should flare up.
He’s the hight of Lavellan’s chest knowing full well that neither elf nor dwarf are tall examples of their species.
“Yes, I’m fine just tired.” Maharon meets Varric’s gaze, the dwarf look worried.
“I don’t blame you , we seem to be swimming in demons, this place lives up to it’s reputation. I’m slightly worried it will end up be our graves to.”
Varric gestures to the anchor. Maharon put his hand on his back.
“It’s not that bad the forest has a sad beauty don’t you think? Either way it beats the wastes by a long shot.”
Lavellan give him one of those cheeky smiles. The white lines of His valaslin curles around his nose. He puts a hand on Varric’s shoulder. “Nothing to worry about my friend.”
The elf walks of to help Cassandra with the tents. Varric can’t shake the feeling that something is off, the anchor have been getting bigger lately. And although Lavellan those not seem any more bothered by the ancient magic invading his body than usual. There is never a thing as too careful especially when the Inqusitor is involved.
“Solas” Varric sais and head over to the apostate, the elf looks up, Solas is taller than Lavellan and Varric just about reach to his elbow. “What is the matter child of the stone?”
Varric huffs he despises the mage’s need to be more knowledgeable than anyone else, always the clever words and formal approach. But he respect Solas when it comes to all things magic.
“Bouncy seem a bit off, the anchor is well it looks angry.” Varric gesture towards the elf at the other side of camp again rubbing his arm.
“ It has been a long day with a lot of breaches, our Inquisitor might simply be tired. He most certainly took a bit of a beating from that despair demon could be he’s bruised as well. And this place does have a rather grim meaning for the Dalish. It seem to me that we should not worry to much. He’s gotten a lot stronger, I believe he can handle the anchor just fine. “
Always with the long speeches Varric thinks. “I suppose you are right. I just got this gut feeling something is not right.”
“ Hmm alright I generally do not follow the advice of inner organs. But I do value your input Varric, I will keep an eye out just in case. But he generally is not fond of being watched. So he might not take it all that well.”
“ Rather a grumpy Inquisitor than a dead one, thank you Solas”
“Indeed”
Varric head back to making the campfire. Dorian joins him the normally well groomed hair is messy and coverd in grass. “ looks like you found the ground face down vint”
“Well yes I did I turns out pride demons rather dislike having fireballs thrown at them”
“You don’t say” Varric laugh.
“Anyway please tell me we have something more interesting than camp rations one the menu today” Dorian grimace and sits next to the dwarf.
“Got a bit of left over nug from yesterday and some potatoes it will at least beef up the camp mush” Varric sais. Dorian huff.
“What’s wrong not up to your fancy standards”
“You know as well as I that waging a war on an empty belly is not a good idea. But it could not hurt that the food tasted a bit less like dust. I am gonna beg Bull for one of his ales it might help the flavor of nothing else”
“ How will that help?” Varric asked.
“Have you tasted qunari brew it will deprive you of your tastebuds”
“Ha, I like your sense of humor Dorian”
“Well thank you but I am afraid that was deadly serious.” Dorian smile and head towards the qunari.
The tents are up Varric has dinner going. Sera is of getting water. Finally some rest Maharon thinks. He sinks down on a stump, the camp is nestled on a hill overlooking the fores and the river it’s a rather nice view. He’s generally the first one to set up camp, in the clan no one is idle. But he’s tired and his arm hurts more than he likes to admit so right now he is happy to just take two minutes to breathe. The rush of shighs is just on the other side of the river although the area is crawling with giants so they decided to get some rest and move on tomorrow. Still Maharon feels drawn to that hill. But it has to wait the despair demon hit him hard he’s on no condition to start trekking of on his own. He head back to camp and take his pack of the pantient horse. Granted she is no Halla but so far this gentle but dense creature has treated him well. He pats her on her neck. One of the inquisitions soliders is tending to their mounts. So he starts finding his way to the closest tent. Set up your stuff eat and sleep he thinks. He throws a smile at Varric as the pass by, the dwarf seems nervous probably worried about the anchor which is the last thing Maharon needs now. A smile tend to be an effective way to fain his condition so it will have to do. He start by unpacking his bedroll, taking his time not wanting any attention. He finds his healing kit. A brown wooden box, which he can just about fit in his hands. He should have a bit of warning balm left. Despair demons attack with a nasty ice blast. It’s not lethal by any stretch of the imagination so no need to call in the healer. But Mahoran is out of potions until supplies show up tomorrow, so this will have to do. He grabs a small glass container with a red balm. It smells of brimstone and embrium He then peel his shirt of. Getting to work on his right shoulder. He had his back turned when then demon attack. An although he can hear well he cannot be everywhere at once. He lets out a bit of a sigh, the warming balm offer instant relief. He takes the opportunity to check the rest of his chest and belly nothing major a few scrapes and a red mark just above his belly button that will most definitely bruise. He finds his shirt and grab the glass of balm. Solas was quick with a barrier when the despair demon hit Mahoran and although the older mage almost never complain he must have been hit. He’s about to head out of the tent when Cassandra shows up and pass him her pack behind her back. Mahoran laughs, although their relationship is no secret the seeker is still careful with putting things on display. Not that he minds all that much. With all this hero business Cassandra Pentghast is one of the few good things in his life that he does not have to share. She smiles and reach out to stoke his ear. He leans in for a gentle kiss. By Mythal does he love this woman.
Solas is setting up his bedroll as well, calm and collected as always. Although they do not always agree , in fact sometimes the disagree loudly . Mahoran have come to respect the older elf.
“on deha’lam Lelathin” Solas have been calling him lelathin for a few weeks now. But this is the first time Maharon feel he can use the title “friend” with respect. The elven language is built around titles and they all demand a certain level of respect and kinship to use them.
“On deha’lam lelathin” Solas smile it has taken the younger elf some time to go from professional to friendly although Solas has no trouble understanding why he was thrown in to the center of this war with no choice in the matter. He had to give up his entire past and future to save Thedas. And although he’s Dalish in many ways that Solas do not care for. The Herald has proven to be both brave and willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good.
“How are you after that despair demon?” Solas gesture towards his right shoulder.
“Nothing a bit of heating balm and a good nights sleep can’t cure, I’le live. You took the brunt of the hit. Ma seramas by the way and here.” Maharon hand Solas the heating balm. Solas open the glass jar and smell the content.
“What’s this?” Solas wrinkle his nose from the smell, he shoots Maharon a curious look.
“Ise Hial, ma lelathin, we are out of healing potion. I have a bit left from atlhan “
Heating liquid Solas thinks, clever the brimstone heats the skin and the embrium flower soothe.
“Your knowledge of nature is impressive, ma seranas, but are you sure you should let me have the rest?”
“Vin, there is plenty of embrium round here and if we can find that dragons nest I should be able to make some more.” Maharon smiles to himself he almost never impress Solas. And the older elf have a view of the Dalish elves that usually lead to arguments. Maharon has nothing against neither city elves nor apostates. He is however proud of his heritage and firmly believe in many of the Dalish and by extension the eleven traditions, he is first of his clan for a reason. And having Solas, Sera and basically every human in the inquisition not just question his faith but outright mock him. Is difficult, in fact being Dalish in the middle of a human war is not just difficult it’s damn right awful at times. So a little recognition never hurts.
“Lelathin, may I ask how you feel? There have been quite a few breeches the last few days.”
And just like that it all went Maharon thinks he knows Solas mean well he also knows that to the older elf closing the breech is the main priority and since Maharon is the only one with that ability, him staying alive long enough to save everybody is well everyone’s concern. But he is not entirely sure what happens to him after the breech is closed is important to any of them. Via Cassandra, and of course he understands it’s just not easy being considered a means to an end.
“I’m fine a little tried I must admit like the rest of us.”
That’s it keep reminding Solas that you are flesh and blood to, not just a weapon. Solas pick up on the annoyed thone in the Herald’s voice, although the Herald is no child he is sometimes shortsighted when it comes to his own importantance. Or maybe he is simply tired or a little of both. Solas has seen the graves in walks in the fade and know the heavy weight that lies here. They say every tree in this forest is planted to mark the death of a Dalish elf. And the whole area those seem to affect the Herald somewhat.
“That’s good to hear. Lelathin, you are most definitely right we could all do with some rest” Solas watch him shrug and walk off. Again rubbing his arm, he must keep a close eye on the Herald tonight. Solas fear the consequences if he should loose control of the anchor. And he is growing rather fond of the younger elf, although he knows full well that the anchor will kill him he would rather it didn’t.
“Thank you Sera” Maharon watch as Sera pass Varric the water.
“Should be enough until morrow, granted that you all fill your own soddin water skins” Sera dump down next to the fire.
“I think we can manage that.” Maharon smile at the city elf. She gives him one of those annoyed smiles back. He sits down next to Dorian.
“Evening Herald.” Dorian is sporting a nasty bruise at the side of his face and no small amount of dirt.
“Evening Dorian are you alright?”
“A bit bruised as you can see, but nothing some qunari brew can’t cure, want some”
Dorian offer him a bottle.
“No thanks last time I drunk that I could barely stand on my feet.”
“Ha I remember, I had to carry you to Cassandra”
Iron Bull dump down beside them. Even sitting the qunari tower over them. Maharon had never seen a qunari before the Inquisition, and he must admit he was vary in the beginning but Iron Bull has proven to be loyal and fun loving. And Maharon is rather fond of him.
“ Not my proudest moment but at least I beat Cullen’s walk off shame”
“Ha that you did Herald” Dorian laughs.
“Ugh” Cassandra rolls her eyes.
“I can always trust you four to talk about things that should not be said out loud” She does say it with a smile though.
“C’mon venahn we are merely having some fun.” Cassandra smile and lean in for a kiss. «And those any of these fun stories involve me?”
“No I believe we are the only ones up for roasting tonight.” She smiles and find a seat by the fire. Varric start passing out bowls of “camp mush” as they have dubbed.
“Gotta do some hunt’n soon ‘‘tis food ain’t good for anybody”
“So even red Jenny has standards. “
Vivienne come sauntering up to the fire.
“I know what good eat’n is when I see it and ‘tis ain’t good eat’n”
“For once I am inclined to agree with you”
“Prrt” Dorian spits his brew.
“Ha, I know right us bitches no what we like.”
Sera throw her head back for one of those loud but hearty laughs.
Vivienne smiles at her, it’s odd how people from so many different places can find common ground but the fact is Maharon’s inner circle is slowly becoming a good team. He scoops spoonfuls of camp mush. Although tasteless it satisfies. The clan would share all their food and it was never surplus. And as such Mahoran is not picky as long as his belly is full he’s happy. Still he has favorites, apples, Dalish cheese and bread. But most of all chocolate he tasted it first time at Skyhold Jospephine has some sent from Antiva the sweet bitter taste was overwhelming and he can’t help himself it’s so good. If he ever get back home he’s gonna bring a crate of the stuff. Maharon strech and watch the sun get low in the sky. Dorian is yawing the food is gone and the ale supply is diminishing by the second.
“I think I will retire” Dorian stands up, rolling his shoulders and holding back a yawn. “So how am I sharing with today, no one that snores I hope.”
“Good cause qunari don’t snore we rattle the very earth beneath us.” Iron Bull winks at Dorian.
Dorian rolls his eyes.
“Right so no sleep for me, alas good night everyone.” He walks off with a bit of a huff. Iron Bull give a short nod and follow him.
“I’le take first watch. You want second sparkles?” Varric gesture to Dorian.
“Sure sign me up.”
“I take third watch then.” Solas sais as he sends one last look the Inquisitor’s way, the elf is currently leaning on a log by the fire, his anchored hand resting on his knee. The lady seeker is next to him stealing glances of a very different nature, it is clear for those who look that they are enjoying each other’s company. Solas nods at the lady seeker and head of to bed.
Cassandra catch the gaze of Solas, the apostate is looking at the Inqusitor. He looks concerned and give her a short nod in Maharon’s direction. She nods back. Shooting a sideways glance at the anchor, its getting bigger and she knows it’s causing him pain.
“I’le take last watch then”
That way she can keep her eleven mage safe if the anchor should flare up. Cassandra is slowly starting to admit to herself that the Inqusitor means a lot more to her than she first thought. He’s got this sweet charm to him, accompanied by bravery and no small amount of pride. He’s not perfect by any means but he is an attentive lover and a sharp mind, and Cassandra can’t get enough.
“I think I am going to get to bed as well.” Maharon stand up and stretch, he smiles at Cassandra knowing she will follow him soon enough.
“Good night”
“Night” Varric answer.
He waves and walk off leaving the crackling fire for the now quiet camp. Mahoran is found of the night especially after joining the inquisition he finds the quiet safe and unassuming.
It starts as tingle, the same prickeling pain as when
he’s close to a breach, but there is no breech close.
Pins and needles stretch the length of his arm. He can feel the raw fade magic pressing against his own. Peeling away his mana. Scared he force a ward trough the pain just above his shoulder he must prevent the anchor from reaching his Vallaslin.
He’s always got some extra mana in his Vallaslin but cutting it off with a ward will leave his arm open to the raw magic.
Still it’s a risk he must take, again the pulse rips trough this time a thousand nails pierce his skin or at least it feels like it. He screams and drop to his knees, again forcing a ward this time just above his elbow. And the magic fights back, which make his own magic spark in response.
Cassandra is still by the fire not wanting to join Mahoran to quickly, when the hair stand on her neck. She bolts towards their tent, she’s learned long since what his magic feels like and the scream that follow confirm her fears, he’s on his knees the mark glowing and with each pulse it sends green magic up his arm. “Mahoran! I’m here, it’s going to be okay just breathe”
Cassandra approach with caution, she loves her mage but she must admit his power scare her. And she knows full well how much damage the mark the can cause. He looks at her, green eyes filled with pain.
He can hear her, by Mythal he wants to answer but there is too much pain. He forces through another ward, this time under the elbow. “Fendis”
The word is more a gasp than anything else. Fuck it’s hurts. He can vaguely hear the others, Dorian is first to the scene his voice breaking through, “Inqusitor are you alright, what’s happening Cassandra?”
“I don’t know his mark is spreading, I don’t know why. Dorian do something please”
“Ahh.” Mahoran is in no condition to do this he’s tired and low on mana he’s not gonna be able to this for very long. The anchor flares again and he’s got no defense. It’s back up to his shoulder again,
“No you cannot loose control, you just need to suppress the anchor with your own magic” He thinks to himself, and builds magic you force another ward. Biting his lip until it bleed. Somehow the ward works.
“Dorian get Solas I will stay with him”
“I’m on it”.
Dorian runs off.
Cassandra scoop him into her arms, to hell with the anchor he’s never hurt her before why would he now. He’s bit his lip again, she noticed he tends to when he’s in pain.
Mahoran can feel her strong arms around him, a kiss on his forehead, he needs to stop the anchor now. As on cue the thing flares sending painful surges through his body.
“Solas wake up!”
“What’s the matter”
Solas poke his head through the tent flap. Dorian got a worried look on his face, panting as he’s been running.
“The inquisitor, his mark just come on”
Solas is quick on his feet and they are both running to the other side of Camp. A scream pierce the night, an almost animalistic sounds full of pain and fear. By the time they get there the Inqusitor is supported by Cassandra, his pupils dialateted ears pressed close to his skull. The anchor is sending green pluses up his arm and every time his electric magic spark in response. His Vallaslin glowing faintly. He’s clearly in a lot of pain. Solas reach out with his magic to the younger elf. He can sense that he’s running low on mana and stamina. But he can also sense the ward he’s got up, he must be trying to suppress the anchor. Then an idea hit Solas. “Vivienne” He calls out.
“Yes Darling?” She must have heard all the commotion. “.
“You have some experience with mana regeneration?”
“I do although I’m not sure how that will help”
“Our Inquisitor has the capability of controlling the anchor, but he is running out of mana, I’m hoping a mana boost will help him achieve that.”
“ I see’ let’s see what we can do”
Mahoran’s wards are too weak. “Fendis I don’t want to die.” But there’s nothing left, it feels like the anchor is tearing him apart.
Then there’s another magical presence, he can feel the rush of a mana regain. Vivienne is pumping magic in to his system, not a lot she’s running low herself but just enough for him to gain some control. With a grunt he force a ward up just above his wrist. It hurts, fen harel’s sweaty balls it hurts. But it works, the anchor’s magic is fading. He’s beaten and bruised from the experience but, he’ll live to fight another day.
“Vivienne?” His voice thick with exhaustion.
“None other my dear”
He looks around Cassandra still got him in her arms. Vivienne is crouching just above, him. Solas and Dorian behind her looking worried.
“Are you alright?” Cassandra stroke a hair behind his are, her beautiful features locked in a frown.
“Well…” “Might as well be honest they’ve been through too much together to not trust each other” He thinks to himself.
“No, but I will be I just need a stiff drink and about a a week of sleep” He sais with a cheeky smile.
. “Typical you would brush it off like nothing” Cassandra huffs.
“You should take this more seriously inquisitio….”
“ Hey that’s not fair” He cuts Solas off.
“Unlike you the chance of me walking a way from this is… Trust me my lack of longevity is ever present. And in spite of the fact that I’ve accepted my path I’m just as much flesh and blood as the rest of you. And come to think of it I rather like living. I know exactly how bad this is, and I’m shit scared. So of you don’t mind I’m the only one who has a say in how I handle this fendis fen harel’s hairy back side of a situation. As such I would rather make the best of whatever time I have left…”
Mahoran get up despite his body protesting. Everywhere hurts and he has no idea how much damage the anchor left behind. He muses over how such a small thing can contain so much power. Although the scar has gone from a thin line that’s spread the entire palm of his hand. So small is not the right word here. Cassandra catch him when his legs give in.
“Ma serranas Vhenan, thank you all you. Ir ablas. I pushed myself to far. I should have known better. I’m sorry you had to see that, and for my behaviour … I just it hurts”
“No need to apologise Inqusitor you are doing all you can to save us all.” Vivienne offers.
“Indeed” Solas adds. “I’m sorry my love, when you close breeches and kill demons you make it look easy, and I forget that you are a lot more than the shape of your ears and the scar on your hand” Cassandra strokes his ear as to prove a point, and get her arm under his shoulder. “Let’s get some sleep, all of us.”
“ A very good idea, lady seeker. I for one can’t wait to hit my bedroll. But do tell us before the anchor manages to almost kill you. I know I don’t always come across as the most warm and fuzzy of people. But I consider you a friend. And as such I would like to help if I can.” Dorian pat his shoulder, his sleepy smile reflect Mahoran’s own weariness.
“ Sereanas ma felon I appreciate it.” Mahoran let Cassandra lead him into their tent.
“Felon?” Dorian aims the question at Solas. “It means friend” Solas offers. “But I thought that l-word Letha… something meant friend?”
“Lethalin” Solas smiles. “Is what we use when we respect others directly translated it means my kin. Felon we use when we consider someone a close friend. Beyond everyday polite relationships.”
“Oh right that’s good right?”
“I’d say so yes, good night Dorian”
“And you.”
Mahoran half hear their conversation, he’s peeling off his armor not caring where it lands. And curls up in his Halla fur. The Halla belonged to his mother who died a long time ago. How much he misses home and his family. His trail of thought is interrupted by Cassandra’s warm body snuggling close. He can hear her steady heartbeat. He turn to face her, she smiles and lean in for a kiss. “I love you.”
“And I you.”
For the first time she grabs his left hand. Interlocking their fingers and watch as the anchors magicglow escape the small gaps in between. He would do anything to not die. Not when he’s finally found his vhenan his hart’s journey. He pray Mythal might protect him long enough to defeat Corephyus long enough for him to go home, long enough for him to just love Cassandra… it’s not to much to ask is it….?
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patissonthepumpkin · 5 months
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Reflective surface shined in a dead of night, scaring away rats that searched for scraps in a dusty room. For a solid second the light framed the siluette, emerged from behind the magic wildwinds, just to turn comletely dark in a blink. A shadowy figure, hinting a human form, stepped away from the mirror, moving quietly in a stillness of a room.
A figure stopped by the sleeping elf, curled up on a thin mattress, looming over her like a silent shadow. A gloved hand reached for an elf's head. The owner of a shabby house lied peacefuly, unaware of the presence of an unwelcomed guest. The thin ear twitched slightly when the strangers' fingers gently ran through its owner's hair, tracing pattern of short braids and fragments of valaslin on cheeks and temples. A capricious curl fell on the elf's nose. She let out a sleepy noise, palm brushing away an invisible bug from her face, still dreaming. Figure shied away to not to disturb the peace of a person anymore.
The mirror shined again: a signal for the stranger to leave the place. Shadow let out a short sigh, clearly saddened to leave the place so fast. Quietly it searched for something between the layers of the fabric and then just as quietly and weightlessly layed the object on the table next to the bed. The person's actions once again remained undetected by sleeping elf.
As figure returned to the mirror, it briefly turned its head around. Magic glow highlighted pointy tips of the ears and delicate features, revealling the guest to be elven woman too. Raven feather appeared briefly from behind the hair and disappeared again. Taking this one last look of the sleeping friend, unnoticed visitor steped over the carved frame and disappeared from the room. The mirror returned to its original dark reflection and nothing else bothered the tranquility of the modest dwelling that night.
***
The next morning, Merril was even more enthusiastic and cheerful then ever. Which Varrick did not fail to point out.
- Oh! I just had a wonderful sleep today! Rats played with my hair and were even so kind to left me a gift. I found it on my sidetable.
- A gift from rats… I'd better stay away from such a thing. As far as possible, Daisy. Not the stangest thing I've seen beside me in the morning, though.
- Right! Remember that one time…
As Hawke took over the story, the party continued their way, with the laughs and friendly banter. Merril stopped just for a second to admire her new precious posession: a wooden ring, with images of a halla and griffon decorating it. Squeezing it tightly in her small palm, she put it back to be save in her sash.
She will tell them. One day. Maybe. And maybe they will even believe her.
But no need to say, that the big hopeful smile remained on her face for many days after.
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eclipsecrowned · 1 year
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myri desperately trying to convey to taran that he’s a grown man with his valaslin and she’s not holding him to what their parents said, he can go home or start his own life or walk right into bloody val royeaux with all the flouncy shemlen if that’s his desire, but he doesn’t have to stay here with her. they’re both adults who can make their own decisions.
meanwhile taran is balancing on bull’s sword and screaming PULL as he attempts to get flipped like a sweetcake on the griddle. he’s having a grand time. hasn’t had a concussion once in spite of the repeated contact with the ground. no thank you sister he’s staying here :) his decision is he’s gonna go party in the wilds with the inquisitor and their pals. this shit is lit.
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new-austin · 1 year
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Ik you can make your valaslin any color but for npcs is there any canonical color other than green, black, brown, red (?), And marethari's gold?
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fensyl · 2 years
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to everyone reblogging my valaslin art; thank you, i spent a long time on it and i appreciate every reblog ;;
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nemhaine42 · 4 years
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14.10.2020 | Dragon Age 2 Tattoos
I like the idea that warrior!Hawke got a mabari alongside Carver, as a match sibling battle tattoo. Only i think she probably thought it was funny that she got a cute-and-fluffy one instead of the angry-stronk looking one I did for Carver. 
Merrill’s valaslin are outlined in green with negative space in-game but I find in my art work that often leaves them largely invisible, so I just made them solid. 
Apologies for the censoring but Fenris’ dick is far too much for tumblr. But I want you all to know that I did draw a nice and extremely tasteful peen and that now and then I open up the sketchbook to look at the original and go “hehehehehe penis (◔◡◔✿)” 
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skyjynxart · 3 years
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Warden Surana
The Sketch ---> The Final
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vivalasthedas · 2 years
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ohp, just had my favorite piece of 'well, they didn't think that one through did they?' bit of default dialog. So regardless of class or player race
asking Morigan what the temple of Mythal is. As a dalish elf.
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