#Rogier my beloved

[tra1nchi]

I know I should be posting and I'm sorry, but rogier deserves so much and I wanna kiss him stupid

[koruneru]

my dear beloved husband Rogier

[sadmages]

Durge thoughts

[pillowenvelopchair]

That’s what she holds onto. A life—an eternal one—with someone else as Lord. Someone true of heart. Quick of mind. That’s the dream, right there. And all she has to do is clear the way.  - Chapter 26

Another swrd art… what a surprise lol. go check it out guys! (i will never stop preaching about it)

hi @un-local how r u on this fine afternoon

[herald-of-time]

Some older artwork of my Tarnished and Sorcerer Rogier.

I was consumed with thoughts of blorbo and crocheted him a tiny crystal grab irl, so here's my character offering it to him.

A friend of mine said he'd really like it.

The crab itself

[gyldowen-draws]

"Kill them with kindness?" wrong. GLINTBLADE PHALANX! 🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

The wheel didn't actually choose Rogier for today's warm-up bean. Instead, this image came to me in a dream and I needed get out of bed and draw it immediately. I hope you enjoy my vision ✨

[un-local]

Me, writing Rogier: God, i miss Rogier

[dyanara]

I like my men sad I like my men pathetic I like my men absolutely and utterly devoted and in love

[awolfnamedluna]

HOLY SHIT I KILLED MARGIT

THAT ONLY TOOK ME LIKE 10-15 TRIES I THINK

[anteregem]

Sorcerer Rogier my beloved

[draken-rotzi]

Tarnished Lore?

From my draconic girl Emma?

Yes she got it!

Though it's mostly a set of points in her story, I do need to write them down in a google doc ToT

I usually just throw my characters into the world, not really thinking in a deep backstory until later when I've defined their personality and relationships, they just fall into place and I add into that !

I'll try to make it as short as possible, since its not that much of a linear story I think? It happens paralel to "the chosen" tarnished's journey (the game's canon), so world events can progress without much issue!

Her name is Emmlyn! Emma for short

• Tarnished from the warrior/hero category, draconic mom and blood noble dad who mysteriously left so she basically never met him (Ansbach lol)

• Arrived at the coast in Limgrave, following the grace, led her to Agheel Lake where she met Yura and learnt about dragon communion

• Unable to beat Agheel, made her way east to Caelid, at Redmane Castle she trained (painfully) with the Leonine and Crucible Knight there, managing to defeat the smaller drakes around and crafting her (altered) drake knight armor

• Back in Limgrave convinced Yura to help her defeat Agheel and kept the heart, not doing communion (yet)

• Heard of a dragon at Stormveil, got to defeat Morgott with the help of Rogier. Didn't fight Godrick after she learned that the dragon was a corpse, proceeded to Liurnia following word of glintstone dragon Samarag.

• At Liurnia she met Bogart and Rya, she offered Emma a future visit to the Volcano manor, seeing her interest in dragon hunting the two wyrms around the place might interest her.

• Went to fight Samarag and failed, wounded she had to retreat, deciding to rest against the walls of the Rose Church where she met Varre, who made fun and dismissed her for being so weak.

• Back at the roundtable she notices Rogier's situation and decides to find a way to help him. (Basically what kickstarts her main story)

• Still following grace, she needs to be stronger to explore more dungeons and reach farther for any means to help her friend, she takes Agheel's heart to Caelid where her first step in dragon communion happens, she takes on more dragons around the area to further her goal.

(Not defined yet other than her draconic heritage but for the sake of convenience instead of the dragon eyes she can use a dragon form for a short while now, gives a boost in stats for combat but clouds the mind)

• Hunting dragons leads her back to Liurnia where she beats Samarag, on her way back she finds Varre again who is now interested in her strenght and offers his usual deal, she reluctanctly agrees bc that's another medium for her goal if needed.

(Pretty much Fia's quest minus "enter Ranni's service" happens here)

• Rogier's condition worsens, things get desperate, so she reaches out to Varre and his bloody finger offer.

In the end nothing can help Rogier from dying of deathblight, Emma is left with two curses and the lost of her beloved, she lost the ability to see grace as well.

• Varre takes advantage of her grief and makes her get attached to him (whats better than a knight elevated by toxic love?)

• Some time passes and Emma makes the trip to the Volcano Manor, now with the craving of more dragon hearts. Meets the recusants, specifically Diallos who is the kindest of them, but she keeps him at arms' distance.

(You can insert the DLC here)

• More time passes and they have become friends with benefits, though it distracts her from her duty at Mohgwyns (not good)

• In this story its Varre who sends the poachers to kill Diallos

• Now that again Emma's got no one else she fully throws herself into being a bloody finger (with a side of dragon hunting). It gets to a point where she's almost always in her dragon form, unable to turn back on her own.

(Next bit subject to change tbh lol)

• Her mind and heart broken, in the end funny enough Varre slips speaking about her past lovers' gruesome deaths and thats what does it, the floodgates open and both curses take away her remaining humanity, turning her into a violent mindless beast of blood and fire.

And there it is! I play around a lot in scenarios with my friends but this is basically her canon lore/ending ^^; hardly anything complex but I've been having a lot of fun with it ♡

[wraith-caller]

WIP Wednseday

I was tagged by @tallmatcha

Here's something from an AU involving the post-Liurnian War era, with Rogier as one of many Carians basically handed over in arranged marriages dressed up as 'strengthening the union' of the two nations. He sees it for what it is, a slow erosion of Carian culture and power, his cynicism validated by the harsh treatment and alienation he experiences in the capital...with one exception of course :]

Will tag folks in the next post

In the Carian Manor, the leaves would be green and bright, some trees blooming with flowers. But in Leyndell, everything was gold. His eyes were overfed with the rusty, copper hues of the Erdtree and the obsessive sycophants it kept at its feet like some narcissistic god. He was, quite frankly, sick of gold, sick of the bright glow that obscured the moon and the stars, sick of Marika's face gazing down at him on every corner, and sick of a curious sea of bright eyes studying him and everything he did because he was strange and foreign here.

Of course, he'd perhaps been strange and foreign back home, too. His preceptors called him flighty, cohort called him soft, and his mother called him an embarrassment. What kind of reflection was he casting by abstaining from the Hunt at mid-autumn when all the other sons and daughters were bringing home any number of offerings to the full moon? What kind of young man spent more time with books than with others of his age and social standing? And what kind of nobleman could he someday hope to be if he didn't learn to stand his ground and take charge rather than fawn and lie his way through all disputes in an effort to end the conflict in the quickest way instead of the most personally enriching?

He knew coming to Leyndell meant a sort of second chance for him. He could've rehabilitated his image. Staked his claim on his own slice of the political landscape. But then he'd seen all of those pale, flaxen haired people, and how they glowed with the gold of their beloved tree, and he knew there was no rehabilitation in store for him. This was just an extension of a war he'd been too young to fight in, the conquering Golden Order whoring out the sons and daughters of Liurnia to dilute all divisions. The leaders of the two nations called it an exchange, but he couldn't help noticing the ones dragged from Liurnia were all young and unpracticed in statecraft, the ones taken from Leyndell all older, more experienced, well-suited for slithering into the upper echelons of Carian society until even the noble houses most resistant to Marika were singing her praises.

Maybe in the end that meant things weren't all that different for him. He'd stay with his nose to his books instead of somebody's ass, and not have to be bothered with the ruthless games of smoke and mirrors the rest of the aristocracy would mire themselves in. Maybe being given over to this general was a sort of boon in the end, because it meant the pressure was gone, and his family could cut their burdensome disappointment of a son loose without tarnishing the decorum court life demanded. You didn't have to love your child, my no. But you must pretend you do, at least, around the people who mattered.

He told himself that he didn't care if anyone loved him. It was for the best, given his present situation as prisoner to a man he'd never even met. How many people really ended up marrying for love anyway? Even many peasant families traded their children for resources and land, so it was hardly something he could hope to claim.

He was still nobility, which carried with it certain privileges regardless of where you lived. And he knew how to be charming, how to smile the right smiles and say the right things, and how to tilt his head just so and that if their pupils dilated it'd probably meant he'd won whatever he was after. It was easy to be something other people wanted. He'd already learned all the wrong ways to be someone, so he simply had to do the opposite of that.

[businesscatfelix]

rogier my beloved. i wanted to go for a "storybook" kinda vibe for this.

he will be a keychain. i mostly am making him for my friend gecko.... but if you want to buy him he'll be for sale soon.

[pillowenvelopchair]

From the doodle board

[nightingale-fic-recs]

By the Grace Of [Sorcerer Rogier x Fem!Tarnished] - Chapter One

Summary: Rogier meets a Tarnished and finds what he’s been searching for- in more ways than one.

Author’s Notes: 1K words to start! The Tarnished isn’t named in this chapter, but she will be. 😉 thank you to my beloved @halfmoth-halfman for giving me an excuse to post this. 💙

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or events from Elden Ring

Warnings: abstract horror? I think? Unedited (basically), unfinished story- read at your own risk!

If he hadn’t watched it happen, he probably wouldn’t have ever known. He’d just stepped forward to peek out the doorway when a figure landed on the stones before him without a sound. The same Tarnished who’d fought Margit. She froze, lavender eyes locked on him as he paused.

“Ah, nice to meet you. The pleasure’s mine.” When she didn’t move, he went on, turning on his infamous breezy charm. “Rogier’s the name. A sorcerer, as you might’ve guessed.” She straightened slowly, eyeing him warily.

Rogier shifted, growing a bit nervous. He’d thought she might be friendly, after his aid in her fight against the Omen. Now, though he could hardly begrudge her caution, he wasn’t so sure. And she was beautiful in a way that was vaguely intimidating all on its own. Sooty lashes brushed her cheeks as she blinked at him, one slim hand on her sword hilt.

“I’m looking for a little something, here in the castle. When I’m not hotfooting it from the troops, that is.” He cocked a rueful grin, hoping for some expression. Nothing. “But enough about me. What are you doing here in Stormveil Castle? This place is bristling with Tarnished hunters, you know.” He was rambling, now. “They sacrifice our kind, for grafting. Not exactly a place I’d stroll into without a purpose in mind…”

“I’m here to defeat Godrick.” Her voice was soft and rough, low in a way he hadn’t expected. He blinked, momentarily thrown off guard.

“I see. Here to challenge Godrick, and lay your hands upon a Great Rune, are you?” She nodded, and he could feel himself relaxing. If only a bit. Then her gaze seemed to catch on something he couldn’t see before coming back to him. Bitterness flooded his throat, nearly choking him in its intensity. “You can see it then, I take it? The guidance of grace.”

She nodded, and he tried to level his voice when he replied. “Well, enjoy it while you can. I’m Tarnished, like you. But unlike you, I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of this guidance for the longest time.”

Her brow furrowed, and she stepped further into his little sanctuary. Rogier tried to mask the sharp spike of anxiety he felt, and was grateful when she came no further. He felt naked under her sharp gaze, pierced through and stripped of all his cavalier defenses. He tried to keep the panic and exasperation from his voice. “Still, I won’t forget how it felt when I first came here, to the Lands Between.” He’d erred too far on the side of caution. His voice was far more wistful than he would have liked.

The Tarnished hummed, finally taking her eyes from him to look around the room. He breathed out sharply, relieved. They rested for a moment on his fire, and Rogier extended a hand. After a moment’s hesitation, the Tarnished sat. Rogier realized that she was just as nervous as he. On the one hand, it filled him with pride that he could intimidate a warrior as fierce as she. On the other, it filled him with relief to have a peaceful encounter like this. Had she any wish to strike at him, she’d have done it by now.

“I’m privy to a few magical battle arts,” he blurted. She looked up, eyebrows raised. Rogier stumbled on, lowering himself to sit across the fire from her. “Would you care to learn one? As a fellow Tarnished, once guided by grace, I’d love to help you out, if it please.”

A wry smile quirked one corner of her lips, highlighting a fine scar there. “I’m afraid I’ve no aptitude for magic. Cold steel’s more my speed.”

“Oh?” Rogier grinned. He drew his rapier, carefully, holding it out handle first. The Tarnished took it gently from his hands, turning the blade this way and that reverently. “Keen to learn another battle art, are we?”

She looked up, then back to the hilt in her hands. “It’s a fine blade,” she admitted, turning it back toward him. He took it from her hands and leaned back to slide the blade into its sheath. The soft hiss of steel raised his eyes, but he found only another hilt before him.

Rogier’s eyebrows lifted. The blade was rusted, chipped in places and somewhat dull. “You used this… to fight Margit?”

She shrugged a muscled shoulder, not quite meeting his eyes. “I’ll replace it eventually. Just haven’t found anything better, yet.” She looked up then. “Thank you, by the way.” At his blank look, she went on. “For helping me.”

“Oh, that. Of course. As I said, fellow Tarnished and all that. Happy to help you out.”

She hummed again, tilting her head. “That doesn’t seem to be the case amongst us all.”

Rogier grimaced. “Come across someone less friendly?”

“Several someones, in fact.” He waited, but she offered no further comment before standing. “Thank you for sharing your fire with me. I’d best be getting on, though.” And off she went through the door, silently as she’d come. As eager as Rogier had been to escape from her eyes, her absence left him feeling bereft of comfort. He sat for a long while after she went, watching the space where she’d been.

There was a certain despair that accompanied meeting new Tarnished. Sometimes, when they were particularly rude, Rogier allowed himself to gleefully imagine the moment that they, too, lost the ability to see the guidance as he had. But only for a wink.

Tonight, he found himself hoping that just this once, that moment might take a long, long time. Perhaps even long enough that he could discern what made her attention so captivating.

And in the depths of the castle, pierced with Death itself and barely able to drag himself away, as he crawled on shaking arms, fumbling his Roundtable medallion out of his pocket, the only thing that kept him awake enough to escape was the memory of those eyes, burning into and through him. The memory of feeling, and the hope of feeling again, seen. Truly seen, for the first time.