#elf hunter ash

[motherstone]

Splash!

I slaved over this for a couple of weeks 😭 I really wanted it to look polished, so I really took my time w every detail and color, yes even designing their casual clothes w their personalities and headcanons I have always wanted incorporate (w Riva esp).

Ngl, I'm not only super proud, I also love how it came out 😭 even canonically, these 5 never interacted all at once.

[winterfox26b]

Amulet RE-read: book 8

I got this book sign by the man himself.

I’m amazed that how Trellis did not recognize the older version of Emily.

If Trellis understood who he was speaking with he would understand what she said.

It’s nice to see the inside of Charon house again.

Trellis social anxiety is showing.

I think that Emily’s painful memory help her remember who she is.

Karen still can’t believe what is happening in her life.

I didn’t know why they were put on medical duty.

Makes sense that you don’t want your equipment to break.

I guess that Silas told the resistance of the shadows.

I wonder when the bike races Alyson talk about happened.

I’m also amazed that Emily didn’t recognize her older self early on.

Ikol’s servant seems not to like what the other stonekeepers are saying.

Emily is being a better stonekeeper then Silas was.

What old Emily said on Page 133 was vary powerful.

Ikol’s plan is starting to fall apart now.

Everything in the Daikon Family home seems so small and cute.

Page 156 and 157 feel cozy.

I think Ikol didn’t expect Emily to do what she did to him.

It’s nice to see everything so good at the end of the book.

[pomrania]

Compilation for week four of Draw Everything June 2024, where I drew people's queer TTRPG characters using the poses @adorkastock put out. (week one) (week two) (week three) (supplemental)

Charlie, non-binary Protector, for @coldwind-shiningstars

The Nurse, agender sea surgeon, for @finndnot

Courage, Oak, and Cor, queer tiefling blood hunter, bigender half-orc half-elf ranger, and genderfluid half-elf paladin, for @happinessisntfun

Yvette, lesbian half-elf paladin, for @thebestbeearts

Ashe, non-binary aasimar monk, for @lynndoublelegacy

[beccacoffindaffer]

Even Gods Need Miracles: Expanded Edition (Chapter 1)

I wrote the original version of Even Gods Need Miracles in early October after years away from the fanfic community. Just a quick one-chapter ficlet to vent some Solavellan feelings.

Then I got the idea for more scenes and expanded it a little. I wrote a short prequel fic in response to a prompt. I started sketching out a post-Veilguard sequel. And all the while, I kept thinking of scenes and potential off-screen moments from DAI that I wish I had included in the original. Until, at last, I caved and started writing this.

An expanded, longer version, now with more angst, more pining, more moments of seeing Lavellan through Solas's eyes over the course of DAI and Trespasser.

Chapter 1: Wherein a God Meets an Impossible Woman

He is the first to find her, crumpled amid the rubble and smoke and festering embers, the only thing left in a twisted field of corpses. She is face-down, curled in on herself, cast in a pale green hue from the gaping rip in the Veil that oscillates in the air above them.

With careful hands, he turns her onto her back, hoping that he hasn’t miscalculated, that the orb he’s been searching for in the carnage might be there, beneath her. 

It isn’t. But that is not what takes his breath from his lungs.

She is alive. Breathing.

He can feel the faint pulse of her heartbeat in her throat, the brush of air across her lips. And yet he saw her body fall from the Fade. It shouldn’t be possible…

He studies her closer. An elf, Dalish, June’s vallaslin curving in faded blue swoops from her forehead down to her temples and cheeks. As much as he hated those markings during the days of his rebellion, the sight turns his stomach in new ways since he awoke and discovered what they have become to those who claim to be the People. There is no inherent magic in her body either, no sign that her spirit or her song touches the river of possibility that is the Fade. She is wiry and strong, clothed in the rough leathers of a hunter, strands of her silver-white hair plastered against her ash-coated skin by sweat and blood.

She seems young, but then again, they all do to him. It’s difficult for him to think of age in the way elves conceive of it now, with such terminality, such finite limitations. All he knows is that she is terribly ordinary in every measurable way. 

And yet. 

A vivid flash of green crackles across her left palm, breaks apart into a million spiderwebs of light, and then dies away. He starts to reach for her hand, but the sound of tromping boots and clanking armor stops him short. 

Soldiers.

With one last glance at her, he draws aback, fading into the shadows. A year in this broken world — this world that he broke — has already taught him to be more than wary. 

To have one mysterious elf at the heart of a catastrophe such as this will be suspicious enough. No need to give them fodder for more.

* * *

He waits until the Right and Left Hands of the Divine arrive, so he can assess exactly who he might be dealing with. Both women are fractured, wracked with devastation — one calmly, quietly breaking; the other, furious as a pent-up storm. He is still deciding whether to approach when the Breach decides it for him, drenching the area in so many demons that he is forced to the forefront to keep the soldiers and the mysterious survivor from being overrun. 

When the last shade has dissipated into nothing, he steps in front of the Hands of the Divine, bowing his head slightly in greeting. “More will come,��� he says. “We must retreat to a more secure area.”

The Right Hand — a Seeker, powerful, with short black hair and burning hazel eyes — rounds on him, grief and rage rippling off her. “And just who are you exactly?”

“Someone who is trying to help.” He keeps his tone calm and even, but he is already tired. His magic has been so limited since he awoke, drying up sometimes faster than he can cast, and every interaction with the people of this world drains him even further. Their spirits are thin, jagged, slicing at his own.

“Cassandra.” The other woman — a redhead, armored and hooded — puts a hand on the Seeker’s shoulder. “Now is not the time. We must fall back or risk losing more of our people.”

“Very well, Leliana.” Cassandra glares down at the unconscious elven woman nearby and gestures sharply to her soldiers. “Bring her. She has much to answer for once she wakes.”

They respond instantly, dragging her limp body up off the ground, treating her with about as much care as a farmer throwing bales of hay. When one of them clamps iron cuffs and chains to her wrists, the spike of rage that splits his chest is acute.

His people branded. Enslaved to false gods. Calling for a savior. Calling for the Dread Wolf.

“Is restraining her really necessary?” He is on thin ice in company such as this, and yet he cannot keep the brittle sharpness out of his tone. “She is not exactly in any position to run.”

“Look around you, mage.” Cassandra flings a hand out at the ruined temple. Overhead, two arcs of green light, like comets, peel away from the Breach, streaking toward distant areas. “Anyone capable of surviving so much destruction should not be underestimated.”

He is close behind them as they turn to leave, soldiers in a somewhat disorganized formation. He keeps his eyes on the elven woman, thrown over the shoulder of a brawny soldier, her pale hair and bound wrists dangling against the man’s back. Whatever had happened with the orb and the Breach and Corypheus, she bears the mark now. It all rests on the mystery of her. He must stay close.

“I am somewhat of an expert on the Fade. If you would question her, you will need my help to ensure she recovers.”

Cassandra looks ready to cut him down, with word or with blade or with both, but Leliana answers before the Seeker can. “We are in truly unfamiliar waters. Any assistance you can lend will be welcome. Come. We make for Haven.”

* * *

They put her in a prison cell because of course they do. They think her dangerous, duplicitous, while he is allowed to move about the makeshift camp with minimal restrictions and only vague threats from Cassandra that she is watching him. The irony of it might be amusing were he not so distracted.

He avoids most everyone, instead maintaining a constant watch by her side, studying the mark on her hand. Its power fluctuates in rhythm with the Breach outside, sometimes in little sparks, sometimes in bright explosions that cause her to twitch and writhe in her sleep. Even when the mark is quiet, it seems to take from her, bleeding her vitality so that he has to continuously pour his own magic into her to keep her from slipping away. 

He searches for her in dreams, but wherever her mind has gone, it is too deep for him to find. He uses clean, damp cloths to wipe the ash and blood and sweat from her face, cooling her feverish skin. He trickles fresh water between her lips, and every time her body’s instincts kick in and she swallows, it is a small victory.

A dwarf — Varric Tethras — is the one who convinces the soldiers to bring in cots, both for her and for Solas, in his vigil. Varric is a rough sort of creature, prone to coarse language and shirts that never seem to stay buttoned, but he shows a thoughtfulness that far surpasses anyone else in Haven, bringing in food at regular intervals, watching over her when Solas needs to search the Fade or rest.

Even keeping him company despite the fact that Solas certainly never asked — or even wanted — him to do so. 

“She’s a tough kid.” Varric sits on a stool on the opposite side of her cot, prepping and repairing bolts for the unique crossbow he carries.

“Kid?” Solas frowns at the dwarf and then down at her. He does not yet have the context to tell the difference between mortal lifespans. They are all too young, too short, too fragile. “I doubt the difference between your ages is that great.”

Varric chuckles. “Aw, you flatter me. Nah, judging by the amount of fading on those face tattoos of hers — ”

“Vallaslin.” The correction is automatic; the bitter taste to the word, horribly familiar.

“ — I’d guess she’s in her mid to late twenties? Which means I’ve got ten or fifteen years on her, at least. Just enough that I get to call her ‘kid.’”

Ten or fifteen years. As if that is so long. In the days of Elvhenan, he knew of someone who had worked a spell to turn themself into a tree for fifty years, just to experience what it would be like. 

The mark flares with power, throwing lightning patterns of harsh green across the cell, and she stiffens, her face twisting as if she is in pain. He shifts to the edge of her cot, dampening a new cloth in cool water and pressing it to her forehead, her cheek, her neck. 

Varric shakes his head, muttering, “What is that damn thing anyway?”

A power no mortal such as her should bear. That she had lived at all was miraculous; it ought to have consumed her in an instant. 

He reaches for a water cup, tries to drip some of it against her cracked lips. “It is connected to the Breach, that is all I know for sure. The rest is just guesses and theories.”

Not a complete lie. Whatever Corypheus did, whatever had happened in that temple, things had changed in drastic and unforeseen ways.

“She’ll pull through, though, right?”

Varric’s voice is rough and worried. What a remarkably soft heart to care about someone he doesn’t know, and in fact never even exchanged a single word with. A commendable, if foolish, trait.

But this Solas cannot lie about. “Unlikely. It is only a matter of time before her body succumbs to the damage her trip into the Fade inflicted upon her.”

He whispers magic into her skin, but her heart beats too fast. Her breathing too shallow. Her skin too hot beneath his touch. The mark is tireless in its hunger, but he is not. Soon, he will have nothing left to give, and she will burn up. 

And then that Seeker and all her Chantry forces will turn their eyes on him. 

He means to be gone well before then.

Varric sits back with a heavy sigh. “Man, Chuckles. I bet you’re fun at parties.”

* * *

When she appears on the mountain, he first thinks he is imagining it. 

He’d left her in that cell in Haven, certain that to stay would only be to watch her die. But then she’s there, sweeping into the battle behind Cassandra, wielding dual daggers with the confidence and ferocity of one accustomed to having to cut their way through life. It tips the tide of the fight in their favor, and the instant the last demon is dealt with:

“Quickly! Before more come through!” 

He wraps his fingers around her bare wrist, thrusts her hand toward the rift. For a heartbeat, he isn’t sure it will work in the way it ought to. She shouldn’t even be alive right now, let alone walking and fighting, with a strong, steady pulse he can feel against his fingertips. But then, a rush of Fade magic rips through her arm, spears upward, and the rift snaps shut in an explosion of vibrant green.

And still she stands. Still she breathes. Still she lives.

Impossible. And yet.

She stares down at her own hand like it is a foreign thing. Which, he supposes, it must be to her at the moment. She looks dirty and tired, spattered with ichor, and yet there is something too bright, too vivid about her. She drags her eyes up to his face, meets his gaze for the first time.

And the world tips beneath him.

[petalouda85]

Forever (in my Mind)

Fandom: Blades of Light and Shadow 2

Pairings: Tyril x f!human!MC (Kassandra)

Word count: 3.1k

Concept: the follow-up to Promise. TW: character death

Tags: @liviusofpella, @megas-choices, @starlight-starfury, @dutifullynuttywitch, @thosehallowedhalls, @choicesficwriterscreations

AO3 link: x

A/N: this was… an emotional rollercoaster. The amount of times I cried is unreal; this was harder and more heartbreaking to write than Promise despite an arguably happier ending. I swear, this is going to be the last sad fic I’ll write in a while. The song in this fic: “Forever (in my Mind)” by Malinda. Another song that played a large role in this fic: “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story” from Hamilton.

When Tyril had asked for a doctor, Adrina knew the time had come.

The last year had been a slow and steady decline for him; he began the year standing upright but was soon reliant on a cane, his movement still getting slower by the day despite his restrained use of the Light. A few days ago, he’d retreated to his chambers and asked to be left alone so he could rest, abandoning his gilded cane for the comfort of his bed. But after days of rest, his energy never returned. He’d stubbornly denied requests for a doctor but after some pleading and no improvement, he’d finally asked for one.

The doctor had come quickly and shut the door behind him, leaving Adrina to pace in the hall, her daughter keeping her company. No words were exchanged between the two. They knew the end was near, but Adrina’s heart sank at the mere thought that her beloved brother was nearing that end.

After a long and painful wait, the door opened, and she immediately ran to the doctor as he exited the room. He simply looked at her and shook his head.

“There’s nothing more I can do. Best we can do is make him comfortable.” Her face broke only for a moment before she regained her composure, Lady Starfury speaking as she addressed the doctor.

“Thank you.” The elf bowed and left, Adrina and her daughter rushing into the room.

Her brother had always been a driven man. Serious and driven. Nothing could stop him the moment he set his mind to something. Every setback, once mourned, only served to spur him onward, a hunter slowly and steadily pursuing prey.

She had only ever seen him stagnate once, after the battle against the Ash Empress. But his grief, his promise had pushed him forward. Always forward.

Life threw much at him, but he continued, visiting libraries, traveling to the far reaches of Morella and beyond, coming back to Undermount with stories and scars. During his short intermittent stays in Undermount, he could often be found in his study, writing feverishly into thick book after thick book, writing like he was running out of time.

He kept going, even when everything he cared for began to disappear. His friends had been gone for a long time. Imtura went first, the sea reclaiming its warrior. Mal followed not long after; the shadow desired to claim him once more but he breathed his last in the light. Nia had held on for much longer, her work never done, but she too eventually returned to the Light. And Kade read his last book a decade later.

Tyril had kept going through it all, his unrelenting drive pushing him forward. Spurred by his grief, his promise or perhaps a death wish, Adrina did not know but now, 200 years later, he lay fragile in bed, a face and body worn down by quests and time.

Slowly, she approached the bed, sitting down in the chair that had been placed next to it as her daughter remained by the door, too overcome with emotion to approach. The siblings didn’t say anything to each other for some time, the atmosphere heavy enough to choke down all words. Slowly, Tyril reached for the side table and grabbed a thick piece of folded paper, sealed with wax.

“My will. It has instructions and my final wishes.” He said softly, holding the paper out. Slowly, Adrina took it, holding it tightly in her hand. “I’ve ensured that the funds for the orphanage will continue. Can you make sure they’re used properly? I do not wish the children to suffer because of greed. I want them to have a good life, even when I’m gone.” She nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“I’ll make sure of it. They’ll want for nothing.” Briefly, he managed to smile, before letting out a long, exhausted breath, the silence permeating the room.

“200 years…” he muttered after some time, “it’s not enough. There’s so much I could still do.” He took a shallow breath, a tear escaping his eye. “But I’m so tired, Adrina.” Another tear rolled down her cheek and she reached for his hand; it felt cold in hers.

“Then sleep, Tyril.” She managed a weak smile despite the tears in her eyes. “You’ve pushed for so long, done so much. You kept your promise. It’s okay to rest now.”

“But you, Amara…”

“We’ll be fine.” Adrina beckoned her daughter closer, the young elf struggling to hold back her tears.

“Uncle.” He smiled lightly at her voice.

“Amara.” The young elf approached, settling herself next to her mother, the old elf turning to look at her. He simply stared at her before whispering, “the chest.” He pointed towards a small chest that stood unassumingly at the foot of the bed. Amara nodded and brought it closer. “Open it.” She did and pulled out one of several thick, leather-bound books, tied shut.

Carefully, she untied the leather laces and opened the thick tome, opening to a page showcasing a masterfully illustrated image of Tyril and his friends at the Ancestral Masquerade, facing Duchess Xenia, the page next to it filled with words. As the book fell fully open, magic beamed in the brush strokes and the image began to move slightly, bringing the painting further to life. “My adventures… my friends’ adventures, it’s all written in these books. Kade and I… we wanted the truth preserved somewhere before we were relegated to the myths we once chased. He helped me compile much of it and I kept going when he couldn’t anymore.” Adrina couldn’t help but stare at the pages in awe.

“This is incredible. We’ll keep them safe, brother.” She assured. Amara tried to shut the book, but Tyril stopped her. He stared at the image, a bittersweet tear running down his cheek. He continued staring, running his fingers tenderly over the painted images of his friends. When he eventually pulled his hand away, Amara shut the book and placed it back into the safe confines of the chest.

They fell silent, the seconds ticking by slowly, Adrina’s keen eyes watching her brother as he continued to fade, his eyes partially shut, wishing to sleep but a part of him still stubbornly hanging on.

She could hear him mumbling but it was hard to make out what he was saying. She leaned closer, her heart twisting when she heard that it was a name.

“Kassandra.” He muttered breathlessly. A tear rolled down her cheek, as she recalled something he told her a few years back, in one of the few conversations he ever mentioned her.

You want to know the horrible truth? I barely remember what she looked like. She was the only one I ever wanted. She was taken from me, and 200 years of living couldn’t fill the hole she left behind.

“Kassandra.” He muttered again. Adrina leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Go be with her, brother.” She whispered, her voice shaking. “Go fill the hole in your heart. We’ll be alright.” Briefly, she spied a smile on his face before a weak puff of air escaped his lips, his chest going still and his hand loosening under hers.

—

When Tyril opened his eyes, he was no longer in his bed. Rather, he stood next it. It was a strange sensation to see his own aged body still lying in it, his sister and niece weeping over it. He looked and examined his ghostly hands, finding them to be in a state of youth again. Examining his hair had similar results - gone were the grays and whites, the strands returned to their youthful black.

Carefully, he moved around the bed and tried to place his hand on Amara’s shoulder, only for it to go through her, his niece not reacting to his attempted touch. He felt a stab in his chest, but he shed no tears as it confirmed what he knew to be true.

He was dead.

He took a moment to mourn with them, though they mourned different things. As he knelt with his sister and niece, he tried to recall the final moments. His recollection had been hazy, his vision and mind unclear as he teetered between the realm of the living and the dead.

If he’d recalled correctly, a specter had come to him only moments before the darkness came. He focused on that vague memory, trying to push past the fog.

It had begun as a mysterious shape, no rhyme or reason in his failing eyes. It had eventually morphed into something, the shape becoming less and less transparent the longer it hovered above him. It had smiled at him as the shape became even clearer.

A woman. Human, dark skinned, dark braided hair, and brown eyes.

He had whispered her name and she had kissed his forehead.

Find me on the mountain.

“Mountain.” He whispered, looking above him, piercing his gaze beyond the limits of the ceiling.

He headed for the door, stopping in the frame to glance once more at his family. A tear rolled out as he looked; how he would miss them.

He wandered down the hallway in his ghostly form, servants unintentionally passing through him, whispering the news of his death among themselves; no doubt the rest of Undermount would know within the hour.

He continued to wander the halls, struck by a desire to see every nook and cranny of the vast estate before he would eventually say goodbye to it. He wandered through the library, the kitchen, the dining hall, even the servants’ quarters, trying to memorize every detail. Eventually, he found himself in the wide expanse of the ballroom, the curtains drawn but the magical orbs floating above providing just enough light to prevent total darkness in the room.

Many an evening he had spent here, helping his sister host masquerades. He’d been glad for the masks, if only to hide how much he didn’t want to be there. He mingled and chatted as expected but rarely danced, his sister and niece being the only dance partners he could bear to have; it was impossible to dance with the one he truly wished to.

The thought of her brought back the memory of the specter and the words she had whispered before the end.

“Find me on the mountain.” He whispered to himself once more, his sight falling onto a staircase, it hidden away in the far reaches of the room and partially hidden in the shadows. He knew it led up to the outside. He made his way to them, freezing when he heard a sound in the stairwell. It echoed yet it was beautiful, a gentle voice singing words he was too far away to understand. There was a pang of emotion when he listened more carefully, stepping further into the stairwell. The words he still couldn’t make out, even with his keen elven senses, but for a moment, the voice sounded familiar, dredging up painful memories of a time long ago.

In a burst, he began running up the stairs, two steps at a time, the words of the song becoming clearer as he climbed higher and higher, forcing tears down.

Like the moon, you pull me closer

Bathe my body in your lavender skies

Like a sound, you slip away

Leave a shadow of a day gone by

And I’ll love you forever in my mind.

And I’ll love you until the day I die.

He burst out of the stairwell onto the mountainside, quickly looking at his surroundings, trying to deduce the direction of the voice. The echoes of the words were carried in the breeze, guiding him in the right direction. He ran in pursuit but came to an abrupt stop when he noticed a ghostly figure ahead, standing near the edge of a sheer drop off the mountain, facing the sun. Her back was turned to him, but his stomach twisted in knots when he recognized her, disbelief and doubt overwhelming him.

And I’ll love you forever in my mind.

And I’ll love you until the day I die.

She sang softly, the wind carrying the melody of her voice to him. Slowly, she turned to face him.

It was her.

Tyril stood still as a statue, staring, emotion choking him. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He tried to take a step forward, but his legs collapsed under him, his tears finally breaking past the dam of his own control. In seconds, he felt a touch and soon he was enveloped in an embrace, the touch of her hands a sensation he had forgotten long ago. He grasped onto her tightly, burying his face in her neck, weeping louder when he breathed in her scent, another thing he’d forgotten.

“You’re here.” Tyril said softly, his voice shaking. He felt her tighten her grip on him.

“I never left.” Kassandra responded, her voice shaking too. They held onto each other tightly, neither wishing to let go. Eventually, Tyril pulled away, desperate to see her face.

She looked exactly as he remembered. Still as beautiful and radiant as the day she was taken from him. He reached up to cup her face, his hand faltering for a moment. He choked back a sob when his hands didn’t go through her and immediately planted kiss after kiss on her lips, the taste so sweet but salty too. He kept planting more kisses, as if intent to give her every kiss he’d wished to give her over the last two centuries.

Far too soon, he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.

“I missed you. So much. You have no idea…” The words were lost in his throat, drowned by another sob. “I kept my promise.”

“And you have no idea how thankful I am that you did.” She pulled back and cupped his face in her hands, brushing away his tears. “A man like you, wasting his life on tears, unable to dig himself out of the pits of grief, surviving but not living. What a tragedy that would’ve been.” Gently, he took her hands and held them tenderly, staring at them as more tears appeared. He lifted them and placed a kiss on each of her hands.

“It was not easy.” He admitted, his voice trembling. “Living a life with a fractured heart wears down even the most resolute of men. 200 years and somehow, I feel as though I’ve not done enough to live by my promise and your wish.” She smiled at him through her own tears and squeezed his hands.

“You did everything I asked and so much more. You’ve lived not only by my wish but by the wishes of our friends. Mal was so grateful for what you’ve done for the orphanage.”

“Mal? The others? They’re here?” He looked around them, seeing only the wide empty breadth of the mountainside.

“They’re in Elhalas.” Anger suddenly bubbled in him, already thinking of a few choice words for the gods.

“Did they deny you entry?” She quickly shook her head.

“I refused to enter Elhalas without you. I told the gods to go screw themselves and came back here, to wait for you.”

“You waited for me?” He asked in a small voice.

“I’d wait an eternity for you.” She leaned forward and gave him another kiss. “It hurt to wait so long, just watching and unable to touch you or help you. Years of the sweetest words you couldn’t hear. But the wait is over now. Now, we have an eternity.” Gently, she pulled away and rose to her feet, taking a few steps. She looked over the expanse of the mountainside, taking in the details. After a moment, she turned around and walked back to him, holding out her hand. “You ready?”

With a soft smile, he reached out and took her hand. Once standing, he intertwined his fingers with hers.

“Yes.” She lifted her hand and moved it in a familiar motion, a portal of ethereal light appearing before them. “Show off.” Kassandra chuckled and moved through the portal, pulling him through too.

In an instance, the mountain had disappeared. Instead, before them, was an open field, wide and expansive, the otherworldly beauty nearly causing a tear to roll down his cheek. A glistening city stood in the distance, the structures and the stones they were made of unlike anything he’d ever seen, even in the hall of visions in Undermount. It put the vast beauty of Valen to shame. A gentle wind blew around them, the air carrying with it a potent and divine energy.

“Welcome to Elhalas.”

“It’s beautiful.” He looked over the area once more, finding it hard to take in all the magnificence. His gaze fell to a hill in the distance, a single, stunning oak tree resting at the top. The leaves and branches swayed gently with the breeze when he noticed some figures sitting and standing around the trunk, the shade and the distance hiding their identities.

He could see four figures. Three seemed to be of similar stature, two seated by the trunk and the third leaning against it. The fourth was seated on the grass nearby. The leaning figure moved away from the trunk and moved to the one sitting in the grass; within in a moment, the standing figure dashed around the trunk, the sitting figure jumping up to give chase, revealing a much larger stature. As they came around the trunk, the hulking figure grabbed and tripped their assailant, Tyril seeing rather than hearing the laughter of the others as they tumbled to the grass, a wrestling match ensuing. He continued to watch them, his stomach churning with a whirlwind of emotions he found difficult to decipher.

Kassandra squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring smile.

“Come on.” He let her gently pull him along, moving closer towards the hill. As they began to walk up, the figures became so much clearer, and he choked back a gasp.

Kade and Nia sitting by the tree, Kade playing a gentle tune on his lute as Nia tapped her hand and seemed to hum along to the song. Nearby, their typical childish wrestling match over, were Imtura and Mal, also listening to the songs played.

Nia saw him first.

The priestess stood up as they made eye contact, the others following her gaze and standing up too as he and Kassandra reached the top of the hill. All stood frozen for some time, only staring as countless emotions and thoughts swirled between them all. Then, with a sob, Nia ran to him and embraced him tightly, Tyril’s own tears flowing once more as he embraced her back. Quickly, more arms embraced him, and more sniffles joined.

“Took your damn time.” Imtura scolded, making the elf and the others chuckle. He embraced his friends tighter, feeling the last heavy weights that lingered in his heart finally lift, leaving behind a sense of peace.

“My apologies. I had a promise to keep.”

[raayllum]

MOONSHADOW ELVES:

Moonshadow elves believe in oath and duty above all else. Their bond with the Moon primal is exemplified through their elusive nature and profound connection with the concept of balance. Stealthy and speedy, they’re well-suited to the role of assassin or scout. Though many are peaceful guardians of the forests in southwestern Xadia, Moonshadow elves are among the most feared kinds of elves. Some human cultures consider them synonymous with death itself.

Moonshadow elves usually wear garments that allow them to move quickly, comfortably, and silently. They favor dark garments that evoke the colors of the night sky and the shadows below, such as deep green and violet. Horn rings and decoration are a traditional symbol of marriage. Elves express affection and intimacy by braiding each other’s hair.

In ancient times, before they assisted in the banishment of humans, there were Moonshadow druids in western Xadia. Conducting their studies around the Moon Nexus, they created the Moon Henge, which allowed them to open a portal to the strange and dreamlike realm between life and death. Unfortunately they were forced to destroy it when the world was divided, separating them from their most sacred place of power.

Moonshadow elves tend to live amongst the trees or near the mountains. Because they guard their emotions well and the more martial among them are trained to never show fear, they can appear rather rigid to outsiders. Yet they incorporate dancing into their rituals more than any other elves, from magical protection spells to marriage ceremonies.

The Silvergrove

Deep in the Moonshadow Forest lies a hidden community of Moonshadow elves. Home to the most feared assassins in all of Xadia, it’s also known for its weaponcraft. The village’s entrance is difficult to find without a Moonshadow guide, and the assassins there might not have a warm welcome for every party that manages to get past their entryway defense. Despite their hostile reputation, the elves here value tranquility.

Stories of Note:

Blood Moon

Long ago, a group of Moonshadow elves embraced a forbidden practice: they drank the blood of still-living beings to extend their lives and enhance their magical powers. Their fellow elves shunned them, and eventually the blood-drinkers were hunted down and killed by their own kind. Only one is known to have survived: their former leader, Kim’dael, or as most know her, the Bloodmoon Huntress.

Flowers of Elarion (note: Katolis has its own version of this tale known as Lasair the Insidious) 

When the world was divided in two, an unfortunate elf called Lasair was stranded in the west. Lasair lived in fear of human hunters and mages, tormented and lonely for years. While not a thief by nature, they began to take items left unattended out of necessity, but never without an exchange. Lasair left beautiful blooms called flowers of Elarion, rare and precious blossoms that glow with soft light and have a scent that can soothe the most ragged spirit. While Lasair hoped the trade would lay the grounds for friendship with humans—a fair exchange of beloved for beloved—they never saw the precious blossoms fade and turn to cold ashes when exposed to the dawn. They never learned their gift was perceived as a curse, not a trade, and never knew why their name drew ire and hatred across the Human Kingdoms.

[moicaire]

It’s WIP Wednesday my dudes (AHHHHHHHH)

Thanks to @hircines-hunter for tagging me!

* * *

She started out the Riverwood gate at a jog, which quickly turned into a run. In the distance, smoke rose from the burnt city. Where had the horrid creature gone? Was he going to return to Helgen? Move upward to Riverwood, to Whiterun? Divines forbid. Aeilif ran as fast as her worn footwraps would allow. The cold wind stung her face and her throat but the urgency pushed her forward.

“Hold up.” The guard standing at the gate of the city stepped in front of the door. “The city is closed, with the attack on Helgen and all. No one can come in.”

“Have news… about Helgen,” Aeilif heaved. “Need to speak to the jarl. Now.”

The guard looked her up and down. “Gods, you were there, weren’t you? Get inside.” He fumbled with the bar on the gate and let her in. “Is it true? Was it really a dragon?”

Aeilif nodded. “A dragon.” Without waiting for a response, she tore up the road towards Dragonsreach. She repeated the explanation to the guards as she ran by. They let her pass.

The Whiterun court all turned and stared as she burst into the hall, breathing hard, covered in ash, disheveled from her flight from Riverwood. The housecarl immediately rose and stood in front of her, hand on her weapon.

“Who are you and what is your business here, woman?”

“The Jarl. I need to speak to the Jarl. Helgen—I came from Helgen,” Aeilif panted.

“Anything you need to tell the Jarl you can say to me,” the elf woman said suspiciously.

“No. Let her come,” the Jarl instructed. With a glare, the housecarl moved to the side with a nod. Aeilif crept up the stairs and stood in front of the throne. “Now. What is it you were saying about Helgen?”

“The attack on Helgen—it was a dragon. I barely escaped with my life. The town was utterly destroyed.”

The hall, previously filled with the light chatter of servants and court members around the long table, fell dead silent. A cup clattered to the floor and the sound echoed over the roof beams.

“A dragon… so it’s true,” Jarl Balgruuf growled. “Divines have mercy. First the war, now this. Can our walls withstand such a beast?”

“I don’t know. But Riverwood is in danger,” Aeilif blurted. “The dragon could be headed there next.”

“Very well. We must act at once. Irileth. Send some of the men over to Riverwood. We need to be prepared for anything,” the Jarl said, turning to his housecarl. She nodded curtly and rushed toward the door. “As for you,” he continued, turning back to Aeilif, “You have gone to great lengths to bring this warning. Whiterun and myself are in your debt. In the meantime, you are welcome at to rest at the inn. Speak to me tomorrow and I will reward you for this. Proventus, with me.” He rose from the throne and exited the hall. Aeilif found herself alone once again.

As she caught her breath and opened the door back into Whiterun, the reality of the situation came over her in a wave. She was alone here, with no money, and all her supplied destroyed in the fire. She had nothing but the clothes on her back and the axe she had taken from Helgen, and the small meal she had received from Gerdur. She found a couple of coins in the pocket of the Stormcloak gambeson, but it was not even enough for a meal at the inn, much less a room. Aeilif sighed, and slowly headed back down the steps to the center below. She sat on a bench under the tree. It wasn’t as if she could go back to the palace and ask the Jarl for coin. A trip back to Riverwood seemed to be the only option, but the sun was creeping towards the horizon. It was not a safe journey to make in the dark. She couldn’t help but think about that same fateful journey that Halbjorn had taken, that one awful evening. I miss you, Halbjorn, she thought. You would know what to do.

[spicywarl0ck]

hello and happy friday! maybe "it seems like the end of the world right now, I know," for solas/male lavellan if that picques your interest. 💖

Happy Friday! Thank you for this prompt, took me a while for inspiration to hit, but here we are <3 (Also I received this prompt multiple times, and I can only say to the others: I will do the others too x3 You just have to be a bit patient) I might have made myself cry a bit with this, anyway: @dadrunkwriting Pairing: Solas/mLavellan Length: 689 Rating: G The world was a whirl of green and grey, the air filled with pure electricity.

It was the stillness before the storm and the last night before the biggest battle he’d ever fought. He felt the quietness of the Keep as everyone kept talking in hushed whispers, each of them under suspense, holding the one hope that he might be able to save them all.

It made the pressure on his shoulders almost unbearable. 

Revassan had never been a leader before. He had been a capable hunter under the Dalish maybe, resourceful enough to be sent as a spy to the conclave. But he’d never been more than that before the fateful events at the temple of sacred ashes and he never wanted to be.

He hadn’t asked to become the Herald of Andraste or the Inquisitor, but here he was, preparing to lead them all to battle.

Revassan wasn’t ready for this and he probably never would be. He’d lived a quiet life with the Dalish; his sister had been the magical prodigy and his father’s pride. All that had been left for him was to make himself useful somehow.

It hadn’t been her fault and he never blamed her for it. Yet, he couldn’t help but wonder if their interactions would have been different if things had been different.

Well, it was too late for that now, he supposed as he took a deep breath. Even that was hard with the heaviness of the air that left a bitter taste on his tongue. He could just hope they succeeded; That he succeeded.

“Ah, there you are. I was searching for you.” Solas’s voice made his lips twitch into a half-smile. 

Revassan might have had a few regrets and saw some unpleasant things during his time in the Inquisition, but Solas had made it worthwhile. He wouldn’t miss the man in his life for anything, in the world.

“I just needed fresh air.” His forest green eyes looked tired as they looked at the mage approaching him, his grey eyes expressing sadness and compassion.

“It seems like the end of the world right now, I know.” His hand cupped Revassan’s cheek, making him feel the warmth of it pressing against his skin. He could have melted into the touch right away, the fear in his heart eased just for a few seconds.

“But, I have seen many endings, and the world is still there, as it will be for a while.” 

There was something unreadable in Solas’s expression when he said those words, his hand swiftly retreating so he could clasp them behind his back in thought. His gaze wandered to the Breach, watching the whirling and brewing storm with an almost unsettling calmness.

And all of a sudden, he seemed to be very far away until he pulled back.

“It’s so quiet.” Revassan pointed out as he kept one ear listening for any movement in Skyhold.

“Not all of them. Can you hear the Chargers drink and celebrate?” Solas asked, giving him a moment to listen to the distant chatter echoing from the Herald’s rest and reaching his balcony. 

“They have seen many battles and drink to the next. Determined to emerge victorious.” 

“Will they though?” The younger elf asked quietly. He sometimes felt there was something Solas wasn’t telling him but he also couldn’t say what. But ever since the Well of Sorrow, he felt Solas might have been older than he let on, just like the sentinels they met.

“Who knows.” Solas’s eyes were still focused on the distance before he looked away, the dimples showing when he smiled patiently. “I’m afraid that’s not for me or you to know,” he added quietly. “But, I am content that you will succeed. You might not see it yourself, but you have become a leader everyone looks up to. And quite a capable one.”

His hand moved to tilt his chin softly as he locked eyes with him before he continued in elven.

“Do not worry, Vhenan. You are a stronger force than you think. And no matter what will come. Don’t forget that I love you.” 

[surnumanaja]

Welcome to my TED talk called "Rooki sõbrapäevik täidetuna" since

1) i wanted to talk about my rook and two non-rooks lol

2) the only way to ask me anything is going to the four road cross on the midnight of loss thurdsay (i think it was meant as an askbox questionnaire?)

Original Rook questionnaire post

Warning: long post that's headcanon heavy and said headcanon is wild. (For longtime foreign followers who might have wondered what on earth I yap about, this is your time to find out.)

And if anyone wants an excuse to talk about their Rook(s), then I tag @pauvrecamille @artemetto @raikoden (maybe @etruski in the future? maybe also @kotitontunmanaaja ??) @happyhourtea anyway im happy to read about your rooks :D

Quick recap of the soap opera that's my headcanon: starting off from Inquisition, there were technically 4 survivors of the temple explosion, but still one herald – Magda Cadash, the other three became Inquisition members and part of the inner circle. Cadash was a good tactician on field, but politically shit ruler. She sided with templars to ensure trade deals for her family's (mainly uncle's) lyrium smuggling operation. She had hope same hope with wardens, but that didn't end up as lucrative business venture as templars.

Instead of letting Morrigan drink from the Well of Sorrows or drinking herself, she made a low ranking Inquisition elven scout drink from the well instead.

By the time of Exalted Council inquisitor Cadash was already burned out and disbanded the Inquisition. She lived very secluded life in Kirkwall until she died in house-fire that was commonly believed to be started by her uncle.

Now, in sometime right after Corypheus was slain by Cadash: Mythal, distrusting Solas, flies to Far-South in dragon form and (literally) crashes a wedding (not important whose) and enlists three following volunteers:

half-elf hunter Terhi of Taigaste (Eng Woodsville or Taigaville);

half-dwarf bard-fighter and mercinary of Kilbinäkid (The Shieldselkies) Elona "Elo" of Tormivere (either Stormblood or Stormhill);

qunari sorcerer Sander "Sass" ("Lex") of Imesaare (farm Wonderisle or Wonder-Ash (tree)).

Mythal gives them a quest to hunt down wolf god known to locals as Pontu Kaarel (Carl of Dogs, as in wolves are known dog killers). The three prepare a ritual according to a folk song, but the magic backfires and the three companions are thrown all over Thedas and other worlds (shhhh don't worry about it.) Terhi found herself in Arlathan forest, Elo in Nevarran Necropolis, and Sass got an illith tadpole in Forgotten Realms (don't worrrry aboouuut it).

Terhi joins the Veiljumpers and meets Varric and Harding and is given the nickname Rook (which she finds confusing as she's never played chess). During the events of Veilguard the three hunters manage to reunite.

(I mostly talk about Terhi, as she's my canonical Rook, unless I state otherwise lol)

1: Where in the Thedas is your Rook from?

Further south from Korcari Wilds that the northerners call "uncharted territories"

2: What is your character's alignment?

I haven't really though about character alignments for awhile. Characteristics wise Terhi is stoic, blunt, doesn't talk much, has dry sarcastic humor, very loyal.

Elo's a charmer, true soul of the party, or more accurately she was all of that until she woke up with a splitting head ache among hordes of undead and had to navigate around Necropolis virtually alone for 8 years.

And Sass had a rough life (orphan in strange land that never really accepted him, his magic constantly causing him troubles, illith tadpoles etc), but he refuses to give up and continues to find a way. Also he's a firm believer that the only good god is a dead god.

3: Race and subclass?

Half-elf Veilranger

4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?

With Elo and Sass it's easy – Elo would be in the music room and Sass would be where ever they store the wine. But Terhi? Maybe she'd camp somehere in the Crossroads?

5: What emotion did they usually pick?

Stern mostly and sometimes sarcastic, diplomatic for companion's personal stuff.

6: What companion are you platonically close with?

Harding, Davrin, Bellara, and Taash. She has kind of weird almost friendly relationship with Sass, but its been greatly undermined by Sass' alcoholism.

7: Romantically close with?

Elo (headcanon, but Harding in-game), Sass was also flirtatious nuisance to Lucanis.

8: Who are they suspicious of?

Besides Solas? First time Terhi met Emmrich, she was suspicious about, because she expected him to be all snob about her Chasind origins. She also managed to be weird about Lucanis and Spite while she literally has a demon dog companion tied to her with blood magic (again don't worry about it).

There's ever-present worry and distrust about Sass' soberness and lack of it and how it will affect his magic.

And then there's something off about Harding's wife, especially when Elo tries to guess where's she's seen her and she gets more defensive.

9: Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction?

She gets along well with other Veiljumpers other than Strife.

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

Again, it's easy with Elo and Sass. Elo plays kannel, Sass can play willow flute. Maybe Terhi can be trusted with jauram, since it resembles a bow??

11: Weapon of choice?

Bow. Keep them far.

12: What is their orientation?

Terhi's a lesbian, Elo's pan and Sass is gay.

13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?

Terhi's a life long hunter, she thinks of it as a last resort ("kill or be killed") or necessity (hunting for food and hide), nothing evil nor nothing to enjoy.

14: What hobbies does your Rook have?

Make-shift crafting, cooking, dog training, and sharp-shooting have all been necessary skills for her. But she does like to stitch patterns on her clothes, that's not necessity and her needlework certainly cannot be called neat.

15: What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike?

Morrigan is cool because she's also Chasind.

Terhi has her differences with Strife, especially about what comes first – the team (Terhi) or knowledge gained (Strife). They both think they are right and the other party is wrong.

16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas?

Griffons! What ever those panthers in Arlathan (in the comics) were, phoenixes, and lynxes. Also normal wolves are cool and DA:I's great bears and harts.

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

Yeh

18: What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric?

Moved through wilderness somewhere else to see what life has to offer, but not able to find lost companions that was Terhi's goal for the first few years in Arlathan.

19: How do you think they'll meet their end?

Probably fighting something they can't best. That or of the blight because of the amount of the blight she had to hack herself through.

20: Would they side with Solas or fight him?

Get his ass for certain

21: What is your Rook's favorite ability?

Necrotic shower of arrows.

22: What languages is your character fluent in?

Mother tongue (not elvhen, but one of many languages spoken in Far-South) and trade language.

23: What do they do after an absolute crisis?

Either hitting training dummies or work out with Taash.

24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?

Yea

25: What specialization best represents your Rook?

Ranger

26: What animal best represents your Rook?

Lynx if you exclude fear of heights.

27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?

She survived 8 in Arlathan as did Elo in Necropolis. (They both agree being spit out in Arlathan beats Necropolis)

Of those 8 years the first half a year Sass survived in Forgotten Realms, then accidentally isekaid himself back somewhere in Orlais. Then tried to isekai himself back to Forgotten Realms via blood magic, but gave up eventually and decided that life as tranquil beats getting yourself killed through blood magic. So he's been a tranquil for 7 or so years.

Then before that 8 years, they were hunting the wolf-god for 2 years. and before that they lived their more or less separate lives.

Terhi was hunter and raised hunting and sleigh dogs.

Elona was the leader of mercenary band, ship captain and a well-known bard in Far-South.

Sass was hedgemage who did odd jobs across farms and towns.

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

De facto leader

29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?

Maybe Lord of Fortune would make sense too for Terhi. hmmm as well with others too i guess

30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook?

I didn't have any good ideas for my Rook so I just went with my wolf hunters and surprisingly Terhi's motivation suited well to be a Rook. (Eh and elven veiljumper Rook's origins are conflicting/vague anyway so)

[tokiko220]

It's been too long since I did one of those drawing memes i remember from my deviantart days soo I decide to do one by @naigotlost (sorryyyy if you don't want dA past dredged up but too late lolololol) especially since I'm apparently the reason she made it lol Here's the blank version!

Oh and by the way I already filled it out once if you wanna see that lol I'd like to think I'm more skilled now lolol

You can read about the characters under the cut!

SHOT - Ospa (Fallout New Vegas) - My Fallout NV courier, pretty obvious what moment of the story this one depicts lol After being shot she suffered brain damage and was never the same- remains a genius, she's just wierder than before.

BURNED - Mariah (Original)- This one is in the more conceptual stages, I was drawing scifi-ish nun designs and really liked one so I thought "what the hell". It's all (vaguely gestures) but she has a burn on her face that she got while pulling patients from their monastery during a huge fire. Through sheer determination and hysterical strenght she hauled out men twice her size, the other nuns never let her live it down.

NECK WOUND - Ctirad (Original)- One of my vampire hunters. I still can't quite get his design down but I do know that he gets turned into a vampire, much to his best friends/basically sister's dismay. It's a whole thing.

IMPALED - Michiko (Samurai of Hyuga) - My beloved being impaled by a spear in a hypothetical scenario in which she's protecting Masashi. I felt so strongly about it I wrote a whole oneshot- i'm still super normal about SOH, I just have less time to draw.

MISSING A LIMB - Jun Uesugi (Samurai of Hyuga) - Jun-y boy artist's interepretation of that scene in book 4 (if you know you know). I am once again super normal about it I only think about it most of the time.

VOMITTING BLOOD - Taro (Original) - Guy from my final school project VN concept thing, he's the main character of an isekai who's kind of a dick and gets vibe checked once he gets transported back to his world in which Apolena (a girl from the other world that he betrayed and got killed) wants some payback- cue a violent time loop.

DROWNING - Marianne (Crown of Ashes and Flames) - My MC from an interactif story by Cœur. Check it out it's good literally makes me cry every time. The characters make me absolutely insane and spin around in my head like rotisserie chickens.

INJURED EYE - Wolf (Original) - Character from another visual novel concept that I reallly want to finish I swear I tried but it's hard work and I'm a drawer not a writer, I hope one day I can actually bring him to life lol Anyway he's a cannibalistic yandere set in, as his name implies, a story loosely based on Red Riding Hood.

BANDAGED - Apolena (Original) - Taro's antagonist and the protagonist of my final school project, she's the elf noble who just wanted to read and embroider when she was forced by her father to join the Hero's adventure (it apparently builds character) but the Hero thinks she's mega lame so after she suffers bullying by the Hero's party he ends up letting some bandits take her which eventually leads to her death (but the Goddess that put the hero into this world is like shit sorry that was kinda my bad do you maybe wanna go be destitute in modern pseudo japan????) Not only was she betrayed and murdered she now works in customer service, which is arguably the worst thing that has ever happened to her.

god i feel like i haven't infodumped about my characters in a decade this is so freeing haha

[omgkalyppso]

OC Masterlist

If I forget any of them I apologize. Last updated March 10th.

If you open this and regret it you can press J to skip this post on desktop.

Baldur's Gate 3 / D&D:

Étoile - high elf oath of devotion oathbreaker paladin of Auril Borgakh - orc hunter ranger Meabh - wood half-elf assassin rogue dark urge Zavorys - mephistopheles tiefling oath of devotion paladin of Lathander Uleri - deep gnome illusion wizard Upton - bronze dragonborn fighter Voriya - seladrine drow draconic bloodline sorcerer dark urge Cemryt - mephistopheles tiefling bard Aoibhinn - hill / gold dwarf hunter ranger / monk Orboloth - lolth-sworn drow druid dark urge Determination - asmodeus tiefling tempest domain cleric of Selûne Yar'sul - githyanki barbarian Baudelaire - wood half-elf archfey warlock dark urge Arilemn - elven aasimar arcane archer fighter Serenity - high half-elf asmodeus tiefling college of swords bard Naimh - hill / gold dwarf horizon walker ranger Anivine - asmodeus tiefling life domain cleric of Lathander Artie - zariel tiefling oath of ancients paladin Zoltan - bronze dragonborn druid dark urge Namanyla - wood elf oath of ancients paladin, head of Adventurer's Guild in Baldur's Gate Anastasia - human vampire spawn, Leon's branch Jarnarei "Joy" - zariel tiefling, blacksmith clerk, Cal's partner Nephemir - asmodeus tiefling, baker, Lia's lover Vanora - water genasi unholy death knight, Umberlee's Chosen Tybalt - werewolf ranger, Malar's Chosen Gillian - werewolf fighter, Tybalt's wife Zavael'ahn - talosian drow sorcerer, Talos' Chosen Chri'dalto - zariel tiefling great old one warlock Vandren - high elf turned fiend, college of whispers bard Mordeimos "Atonement" - zariel tiefling monk Bedivere - Zevlor's summoned mount Blbxrl - Fimbrul Devil loyal to Mephistopheles in Raphael's service Yakrayat - Rakshasa Demon imprisoned in Avernus Nev - asmodeus tiefling sold soul during Descent Into Avernus Rohn - asmodeus tiefling sold soul during Descent Into Avernus Sozican - white dragon who has an albino drow guise

Fire Emblem:

Fodlan:

Faedolyn - fe3h My Unit / Byleth oc Zoran - Faedolyn's genderfluid brother Avery - few3h My Unit / Shez oc Almanzor - Dimitri's cousin / Rufus' son Josiane - ex or ongoing Rufus lover Lucanus - Dimitri's cousin / Rufus' son Paulette - ex Rufus lover Eugénie - Felix's mother / Rodrigue's wife Évrard - Blaiddyd bastard impersonator / Rufus idolizer Armand - Rodrigue's brother Violaine - Armand's wife Jocelyn - Armand's son Fabrice - Armand's second son Dijana - Faedolyn's mother Balfour - Faedolyn's father Enok - Zoran's father Adrijan - Fae and Zoran's uncle / Dijana's brother Taisiya - Dimitri's mother Imelda - Mercedes & Jeritza's mother / Dimitri's aunt / Taisiya's sister Cocytus - Avery's adoptive mother / Agarthan kidnapper Othello - Avery's father Rosalind - Avery's mother Peregrine - Almanzor's wife Huguette - Peregrine's daughter Apolline - Peregrine's second daughter Rebecca - Claude's mother Régimbald - Lorenz's father Agneth - Lorenz's mother / Ionius IX's sister / Edelgard's aunt Ayane - Lorenz's mother when not Edelgard's cousin Philomène - Évrard's best friend Herschel - Hilda's father Hanna - Hilda's mother Ionius VIII - Ionius IX & Agneth's father Eurybia - Ionius IX & Agneth's mother Serge - Rodrigue's chief of staff Wilmar - Lorenz's chief of staff Olive - Ashe's sister / Oren's twin Oren - Ashe's brother / Olive's twin Luzia - Dedue's sister

Almyra:

Sarim - Claude's brother Sara - Claude's sister Asmaa - Claude's sister Shahid* - Claude's brother Sajad - Claude's brother Rumaisa - Claude's sister Shohreh - Sarim's wife Ami - Sara's (second) husband Yaser - Asmaa's husband Isabelle - Rumaisa's girlfriend Imran - Shahid's partner Samiya - Shahid's wife Hadiya - Shahid's mother Rahim - Claude and siblings' father / King of Almyra Noor - Sarim and Shohreh's daughter Ana - Sarim and Shohreh's second daughter Farid - Sarim and Shohreh's son Ben - Sara and Ami's son Alain - Sara and Ami's second son Tamara - Geralt's childminder Vera - Nader's childminder Miri - Sadaf's childminder

OT5 kids:

Halvard - Lorenz and Hilda's son Lorencia - Lorenz and Hilda's daughter Nader - Claude and Fae's son / Geralt's twin Geralt - Claude and Fae's second son / Nader's twin Sadaf - Claude and Fae's daughter Baldovin - Lorenz and Hilda's second son Diana - Avery and Fae's daughter Simon - Claude and Fae's third son

Fankids:

Blythe - Dimitri and Marianne son Elspeth - Sylvain and Felix daughter Keegan - Caspar and Ashe daughter Fernan - Dedue and Mercedes son Idoya - Dedue and Mercedes daughter in merciesyldue configuration Nicodème - Sylvain and Dedue son in merciesyldue configuration

Ylisse:

Evalynn - fe:a My Unit / Robin oc Morris - prime timeline Morgan Lucy - prime timeline Lucina Miradonna - fe:a My Unit / Robin oc or Plegian oc Noravanna - Miradonna and Vaike daughter

Creatures:

Ghaymah / Honor - Claude's wyvern / cat Haris - Faedolyn's wyvern Unnamed - Hilda's first wyvern (dies in war) Braith - Hilda's second wyvern (dies in war) Unnamed - Hilda's third wyvern Magic - Lorenz's horse / dog Cookies And Cream "Cookie" - Zoran and Jeritza's cat Smoked Peach Skewer "Smokey" - Zoran and Jeritza's cat Justice - Caspar and Ashe kitten Chivalry / Tapeworm - Caspar's kitten Moonlight Knight "Mimi" - Sitri's cat Galahad - Ashe's cat Paladin - Ashe's cat Meatball - Caspar's cat Inferno - Caspar's cat Knives - Caspar's cat Dragon - Nader's cat / Claude's childhood cat Little Monster - Hanna (Hilda's mother)'s cat Noraxia - Holst's cat / wyvern Nidhogg - Holst's cat / wyvern Vigil - Sylvain's horse Lady Caramel de Bushels of Apples - Ferdinand's horse Cinnamon Brambleberry Racer - Sylvain and then Felix's horse

Skyrim:

Meldiara - stealth and bow dunmer dragonborn Wylla - sword and shield imperial dragonborn werewolf Oretia - sword and shield imperial Farknir - nord sorcerer, Meldiara's brother Drynlof - nord sorcerer, Meldiara and Farknir's father Vigdna - nord civilian, Farknir's mother Ninayne - dunmer civilian, Meldiara's mother

Dragon Age:

Aerynne Aeducan - dual sword warrior, Paragon Farasuta Tabris - dual weapon rogue, Warden-Commander Illusen Amell - entropy healer, fugitive Galadriel Cousland - dual weapon rogue, Queen of Fereldan Wylla Brosca - two-handed warrior, Warden-Commander Maeve Mahariel - two-handed warrior, sacrificial lamb Marian Hawke - blue dual weapon rogue Kalyppso Hawke - blue dual weapon rogue Illusen Hawke - purple force mage healer Ursula Hawke - red sword and shield warrior Samaire Cadash - tempest rogue Aneirin Lavellan - assassin rogue Tarren Lavellan - champion warrior Olwen Lavellan - rift mage Mildred Trevelyan - knight-enchanter mage Wylla Cadash - reaver warrior

Mass Effect:

Jolene Shepard - Paragade, colonist, war hero, vanguard Victoria Shepard - Renegade, earth-born, ruthless, adept Celeste Shepard - Paragon, spacer, war hero, engineer Josephine Shepard - Renegon, colonist, war hero, sentinel

FFXIV:

Sawyer - midlander hyur, monk / bard wol Sybille - wildwood elezen, scholar, Sawyer's interpreter Turold - Sawyer's father / Borgakh's husband

Original Setting / Stolen from Setting:

J - vampire jazz pianist from a sci fi future Theo - supernatural investigator Nova - magnetic presence for supernatural creatures

[winterfox26b]

Amulet RE-read: book 6

I think that the rest of the posts will be short, I don’t know yet.

The king’s servants looking down so that they won’t see the markings on his face.

I don’t know how other people didn’t know that something was wrong with the cloud’s as well.

I wonder who’s idea to make a giant cotton swab for the wax extraction device.

Why does Karen think that Emily and Navin will be the ones going down there with Navin said “They’re sending us, mom.”?

It’s too bad that we don’t get to see the colossus’s in action.

I’m amazed that really old when he said “Silas trusted me to guard this message as I was his best student.

Ikol was probably the one who manipulated the council into exiling Silas.

The shadows probably don’t like the smell of fish and that’s why the Elf’s can’t stand it as well.

I wonder why the resistance went to Lucien.

It’s nice that Navin still remembers his home world.

Why is the code just the second row?

Emily is that they were chosen because they the most vulnerable.

I don’t know why Patrick thought that the pipe was a good idea for Navin and Alyson. (but then again he is just a kid.)

I think that Ikol know that they were coming for him.

Max must have known about Algos island by Gabilan.

What happened on page: 196 to 199 seams like the proficiency that father Charles said.

It’s nice that Navin believes that Emily is going to Valcor to fight the elf king but it won’t be until the eighth book.

The others that left since the cloud searchers are now back!

[dragonologist-phd]

Introducing: Allys Mahariel

In Summary:

Grey Warden, Hero of Fereldan, Arlessa of Amaranthine (Secondary Worldstate)

Dalish Elf

Rogue (Ranger)

Main Weapon: Bow & Arrow

Perceptive; Curious; Impulsive; Humorous

Relevant Fic: Darkest Before the Dawn (Series)

more rambling:

Origin:

Hunter and scout for the Sabrae clan

She was naturally friendly and got on well with most of her peers, but was unquestionably best friends with Tamlen; the two were notorious for attracting trouble

Despite her friendly attitude, she would often get hit by a lonely mood and disappear into the woods on her own to explore and hunt alone

As a dedicated hunter who both loved and excelled at archery, she chose to take on Andruil's vallaslin when she came of age

She encouraged Tameln's explorations of the ruins and very nearly touched the eluvian before him; afterwards, she was so plagued by guilt that she refused to leave the forest and had to be forcibly recruited by Duncan

Major Choices:

Saved Connor from possession with the help of the Circle mages

Sided with the mages at the Circle

Helped form a truce between the Dalish and werewolves

Did not defiled the Ashes of Andraste, slew the dragon

Destroyed the Anvil and crowned Bhelen king of Orzammar at Zevran's recommendation

Dueled and killed Loghain at the Landsmeet. Placed Anora on the throne alone

Convinced Alistair to perform the Dark Ritual with Morrigan

Party Dynamics:

Best friends with Morrigan. The two actually didn't like each other much at first, but grew closer over time as Morrigan warmed to Allys's compassion, and Allys began to appreciate Morrigan's survivalist attitude. They changed each other for better and for worse, and by the end of everything were very close

Close with Alistair. They fought plenty of times over the course of their jourey, but were boded by their role as Wardens and ultimately they always had each others' backs

Did't get on well with Wynne or Leliana. She was always friendly with them, couldn't quite get over their strong adherence to Andrastianism and the Chantry

Best friends with Velanna in Awakening. It felt good to have another Dalish around again, and in a lot of ways Velanna reminded her of Morrigan, whom Allys missed dearly

Romance:

She was charmed by Zevran from the start, though she knew he was dangerous and didn't completely know what to make of his flirting. When he promised her a simple distraction, however, she decided to throw caution to the wind and take him up on the offer

The distraction grew complicated as they both began to develop feelings. They both worried they were being foolish, and both were grappling with guilt over past loves. Both were so caught up in their own emotions and insecurities that they nearly broke down over it

In the end, they were able to come together and be honest about their feelings. Once they confessed the depth of their bond, they remained devoted to each other

Epilogue:

She sets up the Warden stronghold in Amaranthine. While she's proud of her work, she always regrets that she can never truly go back to the Dalish

Zevran eases her homesickness and they make a family together, taking in children in need and raising them as their own

Allys and Zevran leave together to investigate the possibility of a cure to the Blight. Allys's greatest hope is that she can find the cure and live out the remaining years of her life in peace

Misc:

She loves animals, and in addition to her mabari (named Da'len) she acquires a pet Blight Wolf

Storytelling was another hobby of hers when she was young, and she still remembers many stories and songs of the Dalish. She has a good singing voice, and the stories are one of the few things she bonds with Leliana over

Merrill had a crush on her when they were young, a fact to which Allys was quite oblivious

She never does get the hang of politics and lets Varel handle most of that in Amaranthine

She does make an appearance in my massive combined worldstate, but since she's Doomed by the Narrative in that one, she gets her own worldstate with a happy ending here

[silversiren1101]

Got the Dragon Age bug again thanks to @camelliagwerm . Made me realize I don't really have a 'canon' Warden? Usually I have to let ideas percolate before they truly settle, but here's the first attempt!

Asharis "Ashes" Surana: former hunter of a Dalish can whose magic manifested just before coming of age. With the Keeper already having an apprentice, she fled deep into the woods to try and make out a solo, if not feral, existence. Rumors of the elf with eerie wolfish, almost supernaturally yellow eyes, spread to nearby human settlements however, and she was eventually captured by Templars and sent to Kinloch.

Many decades later, she is a surly old mage with a very pragmatic and aggressive disposition, almost always with a scowl on her face. To Asharis, "Magic is magic. Either you know what you're doing or you don't." Falling prey to demons is, to her, a skill issue, and she will do whatever it takes in order to accomplish what needs to be done.

Loghain is about to have his crusty broken old heart revived by this ferocious veteran mage :)

[major-fukkup]

@hyperobsession here goes!

So, I've created several different DnD pcs, as one does, so I can use them for different things BUT in my mind they all also exist in a separate AU where they're all in the same party and the problem with this is three of them are rogues.

Two of them, Ezian (catfolk) and Vargas (tiefling), become best friends almost immediately (just kidding it takes at least a week or two) bc it turns out they share a braincell and work reeeaaally well together. And they basically force the third, Sivain (half elf), to join their lil mini group within the party just bc ya know, they gotta, but he's traumatized (to be fair they all are lol but his trauma was the most recent) and doesn't wanna get close to anyone. Eventually he learns to trust them, and they never let him down. At least, not intentionally.

They are, for all practical purposes, being babysat by Storm, the chillest bard ever (you may remember him - he's a dragonborn), and Ash, a wood elf druid with a moral compass that won't quit. They basically become co- party leaders on account of being the smartest, and also the biggest and strongest (in a "the strong protect the weak" kind of way, not a "might makes right" way lol).

Storm doesn't really care what the rogues do as long as they aren't actually hurting anybody, but Ash tries to talk morals into them - to be fair they do have standards of their own but they struggle quite a bit with reason and logic, and Sivain believes quite heavily in destiny and luck. For example if someone drops their wallet or whatever and doesn't notice then it's fair game - bad luck for them, good luck for him.

Ash eventually learns to look the other way sometimes, but not if there is an objectively morally correct course of action that can be taken. She chooses not to partake of any goods that she knows are stolen but she isn't going to deprive her companions of stuff they actually kind of need, either.

Also Volstar, the edgy halfling sorcerer, is there but he mostly keeps to himself. He spent the first few months with the party constantly assuring them (himself actually) that he was ONLY in the same place at the same time as them because they happened to be investigating the same thing (they asked for his help one time with one thing and he was already looking into it so he figured why the hell not but he expected them to leave him alone afterward and they very much did not).

He talks to his mage hand and minor illusion more than any of them. ...Until one day he finds himself calling the party his friends. He never regrets it, either.

And of course we can't forget about Mark, a high elf ranger who doesn't give any fucks about anyone or anything except himself and smoking weed (I originally made him a high elf just for that joke even though wood elf would make more sense). He's literally just a hunter but he always wondered what was beyond the forest so he agrees to accompany the party into the city they're heading toward.

While there, they find a raccoon and he tries to kill it but it starts talking and the other party members decide to adopt it. Its (his) name is Roadkill but it's unclear if he already had that name or if they gave it to him.

Roadkill immediately decides Mark is his favorite person, you know, the guy who tried to kill him at first sight, and spends the majority of his time sitting on his shoulder. He refuses to get within five feet of Ash despite the fact that she's objectively the most adept at animal handling.

He is also a thief (I'm not giving him a class simply bc he'd be a rogue and that would make four, and also bc he's a raccoon and doesn't deserve a class [affectionate]) and frequently attempts to steal from Mark, who in turn chases him around trying to stab him. This continues nearly every night until Mark is given a reason to care about someone other than himself and has a change of heart (it is unclear how much time that takes, and also unclear exactly what happens to incite this reaction - I have some ideas but nothing set in stone yet).

Roadkill also fights with the rogues over shiny things. They don't try to kill him like Mark did but he does find a dagger somewhere and they quickly give up on trying to take it away from him.

That's about it for these guys, for right now anyway. I have so much more to say about each one but that can be done another time, in another post.

I'm also working on a couple more pcs including a half orc paladin and a drow cleric but since I'm not overly familiar with either of those classes I'm waiting 'til I have time to consult the Player's Handbook before continuing their development. I also want to add a barbarian to the mix but I don't have any exceptionally good ideas for one so I'm not sure yet. Maybe a gnome bc I love the idea of a really strong tiny dude. I was considering a gnome fighter instead but again, not sure.

I have a number of npcs as well that I'd love to talk about, but that's DEFINITELY going in a different post.

Anyway feel free to ask for more info about any of these guys! Like I said I have a lot more to say XD