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Banished

Word Count: 759

Summary: Wyll kills Mizora, but it lands him in a realm completely unknown to him.

All of his efforts were going to pay off in that moment.

While blades clashed behind him, the scent of smoke and sulfur clung to the air, yet Wyll's sights remained solely on her.

He finally had her cornered. There she laid upon the ground, covered in blood with her hand clutched tightly against her side.

Even then, she smirked at him, as if she was the one that was victorious.

And when he readied his blade, she outright laughed at him, which quickly turned into a sickly, wet cough. With her lips and chin stained red, Mizora opened her mouth to speak.

Regardless of what she had to say at that point, Wyll was done talking.

Talking only wasted time, and that led to mistakes, mistakes that he couldn't afford to make with his justice —his vengeance— well within reach.

He'd have his time to savor it once she was dead.

Within the blink of an eye, he ran her through with the very weapon she had given him in the mind flayer colony. When the rapier struck true, plunging deep within her chest, she grasped at the blade with a wet gurgle, gasping for air when Wyll gave it a slow, sickening twist.

But even then, she still smirked at him.

In her final moments, she panted out, "So proud. I knew you had it in you—" Before he could comprehend what was happening, she raised a shaky hand up between them. "—but we both know. I always get the last laugh."

She snapped her fingers, and a sigil instantly sparked to life underneath Wyll's feet in a fiery inferno. Mizora's hand fell limp at her side, and she managed a final, bloody smile before her expression fell slack, her eyes staring blankly off into the distance.

Death didn't stop her spell from carrying out her final act of defiance.

A vortex of power rose up from the floor to consume him in his entirety, slowing his movements down, as if time itself moved at a snail's pace within that area of magic.

"Wyll!" Karlach shouted, her panic booming through the air.

While the others continued their fight, she rushed towards him in spite of the danger, taking down one enemy after another with every swing of her axe on her way to get to him.

It took every muscle in his body to reach out to her, but everything outside of the spell was quickly fading away. All colors, sounds, sights, smells. Darkness persevered until only an empty void was left in place.

The last thing Wyll saw, the last thing he felt, were Karlach's fingers as they brushed against his.

Then, for a split second, there was nothing.

After that, it hit like lightning. The darkness fell away in one fell swoop, and a sudden surge of dizziness shot through Wyll as the landscape changed around him, taking shape into something new.

He took one look around and knew that something was wrong. He could feel a change in the air.

Oh, no.

Where did—Where did she send him?

He most certainly wasn't in the Hells anymore, but he wasn't even sure he was back in Faerûn either. Not any part of the continent he knew of, at least.

He stumbled forward, noticing as he did so that his body was growing… lighter?

Holding his hands out in front of him, the first thing that caught his attention was his claws reshaping themselves, sinking back more into his skin as they returned to their former state. Struck by a wave of disbelief, he turned them back and forth, this way and that, struggling to comprehend what was happening, even as he watched it occur.

Eventually, Wyll reached up and felt his horns all but turn to ash in his hands. Next, his wings, and then his tail.

The scars left behind from his punishment soon smoothed out, and his fangs retracted into a reasonable set of canines. For a human, by any means.

Huh, what a surprise. Mizora had been lying all along. The changes were reversible.

It just came at the cost of her death.

Convenient that she kept that to herself.

With no particular destination in mind, Wyll set out in hopes of finding some sort of civilization in this mysterious region. That way, he could figure out his next move from there.

Little did he know, his exploration would lead him directly to a village, one besieged by monsters unlike any others he had ever encountered.

Darkspawn, he would later learn.

[bluerose5]

"They go to SEX CLUBS and pretend to be DOGS!"

Yeah well you go to church every Sunday and pretend to be a good person

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🤭

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Wanted to see what they’d look like with swapped hairstyles

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Banished

Word Count: 759

Summary: Wyll kills Mizora, but it lands him in a realm completely unknown to him.

All of his efforts were going to pay off in that moment.

While blades clashed behind him, the scent of smoke and sulfur clung to the air, yet Wyll's sights remained solely on her.

He finally had her cornered. There she laid upon the ground, covered in blood with her hand clutched tightly against her side.

Even then, she smirked at him, as if she was the one that was victorious.

And when he readied his blade, she outright laughed at him, which quickly turned into a sickly, wet cough. With her lips and chin stained red, Mizora opened her mouth to speak.

Regardless of what she had to say at that point, Wyll was done talking.

Talking only wasted time, and that led to mistakes, mistakes that he couldn't afford to make with his justice —his vengeance— well within reach.

He'd have his time to savor it once she was dead.

Within the blink of an eye, he ran her through with the very weapon she had given him in the mind flayer colony. When the rapier struck true, plunging deep within her chest, she grasped at the blade with a wet gurgle, gasping for air when Wyll gave it a slow, sickening twist.

But even then, she still smirked at him.

In her final moments, she panted out, "So proud. I knew you had it in you—" Before he could comprehend what was happening, she raised a shaky hand up between them. "—but we both know. I always get the last laugh."

She snapped her fingers, and a sigil instantly sparked to life underneath Wyll's feet in a fiery inferno. Mizora's hand fell limp at her side, and she managed a final, bloody smile before her expression fell slack, her eyes staring blankly off into the distance.

Death didn't stop her spell from carrying out her final act of defiance.

A vortex of power rose up from the floor to consume him in his entirety, slowing his movements down, as if time itself moved at a snail's pace within that area of magic.

"Wyll!" Karlach shouted, her panic booming through the air.

While the others continued their fight, she rushed towards him in spite of the danger, taking down one enemy after another with every swing of her axe on her way to get to him.

It took every muscle in his body to reach out to her, but everything outside of the spell was quickly fading away. All colors, sounds, sights, smells. Darkness persevered until only an empty void was left in place.

The last thing Wyll saw, the last thing he felt, were Karlach's fingers as they brushed against his.

Then, for a split second, there was nothing.

After that, it hit like lightning. The darkness fell away in one fell swoop, and a sudden surge of dizziness shot through Wyll as the landscape changed around him, taking shape into something new.

He took one look around and knew that something was wrong. He could feel a change in the air.

Oh, no.

Where did—Where did she send him?

He most certainly wasn't in the Hells anymore, but he wasn't even sure he was back in Faerûn either. Not any part of the continent he knew of, at least.

He stumbled forward, noticing as he did so that his body was growing… lighter?

Holding his hands out in front of him, the first thing that caught his attention was his claws reshaping themselves, sinking back more into his skin as they returned to their former state. Struck by a wave of disbelief, he turned them back and forth, this way and that, struggling to comprehend what was happening, even as he watched it occur.

Eventually, Wyll reached up and felt his horns all but turn to ash in his hands. Next, his wings, and then his tail.

The scars left behind from his punishment soon smoothed out, and his fangs retracted into a reasonable set of canines. For a human, by any means.

Huh, what a surprise. Mizora had been lying all along. The changes were reversible.

It just came at the cost of her death.

Convenient that she kept that to herself.

With no particular destination in mind, Wyll set out in hopes of finding some sort of civilization in this mysterious region. That way, he could figure out his next move from there.

Little did he know, his exploration would lead him directly to a village, one besieged by monsters unlike any others he had ever encountered.

Darkspawn, he would later learn.

[bluerose5]

Every day my heart breaks for Veilguard not having Origins-esque prologues for the Factions. Don’t get me wrong, I love the opening in Minrathous, but it just feels…so weird to keep hearing about this exciting and character defining moment of Rook’s past second hand.

Like what do you mean Grey Warden!Rook drove back a horde and collapsed an entire building to seal off a Darkspawn tunnel?

What do you mean Lord of Fortune!Rook performed an Indiana Jones level escape from an ancient ruin and killed the son of a bitch that crossed them?

Don’t even get me started on Mourn Watcher!Rook being involved in something called War of Banners (it already has a name!!) where they prevented an entire civil war between undead!

I want more!! I want to get invested! I want to see what Varric saw in them, how he knew they were exactly what he needed.

Dragon Age: Origins, no one did prologues like you and I still think about them to this day.

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also can i just say that it is a little wild to me that upon learning that there's a blight going with new darkspawn alongside the evanuris making themselves known to rook. that their first thought is not "let's get a warden on board" its "lets find a guy who kills mages". like idk i always find lucanis's set up SO weird bc sorry these arent regular ass mages that some fuck ass assassin can kill, they were revered as GODS for a reason. the blight tho, the blight can be dealt with by a warden

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Speaking of Wyll, have some more Wyll!Rook while you're at it.

He's so cute, and he wants that Grey Warden so bad. 😭

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Yeah, yeah, Wyll with devil features is hot, but you know what's even hotter? Wyll being in a body he's comfortable with and regaining his bodily autonomy. (For context, I'm once again saying Wyll should have been given the option to at least try and regain his former appearance back after he was free from Mizora.) Plus, brown eyed Wyll. Enough said.

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Wyll, baby boy, I wish we could have at least offered to help you get your old appearance back.

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i love listening to the same 6 artists over and over. #music #mymusic

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Made a regular-degular Tav version of River for a co-op run, he's fresh from the Underdark and doesn't know all the words(there's so many!!). A fun possibility for a wizard romance uno-reverse presented itself.

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okay for fun and since dragon age is so wishy-washy inconsistent about it

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A day late, but this is my second of three pairs for the Dragon Age Kiss week event going on! Zevali for the soul...

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Thinking about Wyll!Rook and Davrin pulling this off for him. <3

While I think Lucanis being First Talon would be a point of tension (and many arguments) between these two, I believe that Lucanis actually enjoys going on hunts with Davrin post-game to get away from it all. While it's a new sort of challenge to some degree, it's actually not too far off from what he does as an assassin at times. It requires similar concepts of patience, tracking, knowing your target, etc. So far as Lucanis is concerned, the main difference is in the type of "prey" that they kill.

Then, one day, Davrin offers to take him along on a job, but he doesn't tell him much about the hunt itself, only that the purpose of it this time was that they were going to observe, not kill. Which is really strange, but not exactly unheard of. Sometimes, Davrin actually tries to verify the claims of their employers about how hostile and destructive their target is before acting. Other times, he simply likes to gather more information first.

Whatever his reasons are, the second they set out on their "hunt", Lucanis can tell something is off. Davrin is too relaxed. There's no sense of urgency, none of that steely determination that he's used to seeing on other hunts, but those tracks that they're following look mighty familiar...

So imagine Lucanis's reaction when he hears a roar not too far off, and Davrin takes him to a spot where they can safely overlook a wyvern's nest from a distance.