#force mage

[faded-mage]

Enjoyed making these a bit too much. My "canon compliant" world state for Dragon Age. My AU has it's own set... well, it will once I get to Veilguard in that fic. Don't wanna spoil too many surprises.

Warden Elera Surana Origins Elf, Mage (Arcane Warrior), Alistair

Champion Amerie Hawke 2, aka Fuck Around in Kirkwall Human, Mage (Force Mage), Anders

Inquisitor Avise Lavellan Inquisition Dalish Elf, Mage (Knight Enchanter), Solas Golden Thread Does Not Bind

Mara de Riva, "Rook" Veilguard City Elf, Mage (Spellblade), Lucanis

[vigilskeep]

Hi I saw you mention wanting to talk about schools of magic and specializations; do you want to talk about the arcane/primal earth DAO -> force mage DA2 -> rift magic DAI transformation and what that says about the different places that various protagonists learned their magic/what the fade is like in Kirkwall (I feel like I saw you mention that "fade is thin in Kirkwall" + "yeah rift magic, which has all the force mage spells, is a new school since the giant hole in the sky" was a bit of an odd take)?

Alternately, would you like to talk about the arcane warrior -> knight enchanter thing and how the chantry getting ahold of ancient elven battle magic might have occurred? And what that means for the Greater Lore?

Anyways love your blog and you have the best takes ❤️

i actually just made a joke about the obvious similarities of force magic and rift magic and it’s @miraculan-draws who had the really great take about the veil in kirkwall that made me take this seriously!

it really can’t be overstated how fucked the veil is in kirkwall. the sheer amount of demons out and about! the way you can just become an abomination with a snap of your fingers no trip into the fade to make contact with demons necessary! good lord! it’s also worth noting that it’s not even just the mass suffering and slavery that has happened here and is literally painted onto the walls; kirkwall, insanely, is intentionally built in the form of giant glyphs and iirc it’s implied it was used by magisters as a mass blood ritual for entering the fade, possibly even THE entering the fade? not to mention corypheus’ prison nearby or keeping the mages in the GALLOWS of all places or the histories of occupation or sundermount. mass death and suffering causes tears in the veil. nobody should live in kirkwall. nobody should fucking live there. it would totally make sense if force magic, a brand of magic specifically noted to be popular in kirkwall, required the same closeness to the fade as rift magic. kirkwallers don’t need a breach they literally just live like that

as for arcane warrior/knight enchanter, it’s covered really interestingly by ariane in the witch hunt dlc and velanna in the awakening dlc that a lot of the circle’s magical knowledge is essentially appropriated from ancient elven knowledge that they were able to preserve while the dalish were robbed of it. that’s what’s happening when you take ariane to kinloch to get information on eluvians and some random young human mage knows more than her and her keeper, and ariane talks about this at the time. velanna and anders also have this banter:

it comes up a lot in anders’ banters with dalish mages that he is coming from having grown up in a place intended for the sharing and discussion of magical knowledge, where bickering academic rivalries as well as political ones are commonplace, and learning from each other and living side by side is what makes them better safer mages. (which is one thing abt the circle i think he actually misses and tries, however awkwardly, to seek out. imo he’s just parroting “great civilisations are built on the sharing of ideas” here, it sounds way more like something that’s been said to him than something he would think. he wants to talk abt magic bc he’s lonely and on the run and used to be surrounded by people to talk abt magic with! vivienne talks abt this more intentionally, she makes good points abt mages thriving when they’re together among those who can understand them.) whereas merrill and velanna grow up in a background where magic is quite individual and private, shared from one keeper to one first and (according to merrill) never practised in public, and that’s a safety measure to protect them from templars and to protect elven knowledge from being taken away from them as it has been previously. so obviously they’re not engaging with the first human mage trying to blunder his way into discussion with no sensitivity at all by picking the kind of fights he’s used to, which velanna and merrill obviously wouldn’t have context for

that’s a tangent abt characters bc i love talking abt anders merrill and velanna and the way i think they think abt magic, ignore me. anyway. my POINT is i imagine the ideas behind knight-enchanter came into the hands of circle mages and the chantry in a similar way to finn’s knowledge about eluvians in witch hunt. that seems natural enough. i believe you can have a conversation with solas after taking the spec where you discuss what the ancient elven arcane warriors might think to see their abilities in the hands of the chantry?

[sashthesloth]

do NOT bring your boyfriend to the swamp. he will not like it.

[witchazard]

Serena is a self proclaimed leader of a group of lesbians who don't respect her, of course she's going to be dramatic

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

Mel and Viktor both taking away pain in Act I

Caitlyn was there. You might pay her a visit. She does an admirable job of hiding it, but the poor girl's in so much pain.

So much senseless pain... You need not suffer anymore.

[threepandas]

Bad End, Chosen: Part 4

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The Cycles never "loaded" back in at quite the same point. It was something I had noticed, though I had only suffered a few of them so far. It was like the God's were hoping "Chapter" to "Chapter", fickle and easily bored, trying desperately to find something NEW.

It made planning all but impossible.

Where... where was I?

A simple room. A suitcase before me. Loading or unloading? I held a robe in my hands. Painfully familiar. I had worn them for years. The highly protective robes of Mage initiates, at the Magic Tower. Meant to work as armor, life support, even... God's forbid, an emergency beacon. They were hideous. Function over form.

I could cry, for how deeply I loved these ugly robes.

No one had EVER been able to figure out how to style them properly. God's know, we had TRIED. But when The Dark came? This ugly, ugly things? These long complained about hand-me-downs? Oh... oh they had saved so, SO many student's lives.

Such tiny little things. Pulled from the rubble, still breathing. All because of these chaotic, gaudy, terribly comfortable and so deeply loved, old robes. T...They truely were as hideous as I remembered, weren't they? Blocks upon blocks of overlapping stitches and patches, too many colors, as though the tower was too stubborn to throw as single thing away.

We were.

We... we NEVER leave anything or anyONE behind.

Packrats, all of us. Such terrible hoarders. But... I looked around. It did not tell me the date. Was I leaving? Joining the tower? How old was I supposed to be? I pulled on my robes.

It felt like coming home. Like balm against the raw nerves of my still fragile mind. I felt old. Brittle. At... at terrible odds, with my young skin. I wondered if this was how she felt. The woman, the poor girl, that came before me. Before she broke so badly even the God's could not force her to perform. I did not want to admit I understood the impulse.

Ah, there.

I had once, what felt like lifetimes ago. What WAS lifetimes ago. Bought this very calander. It was cute. Little fairy dragons danced upon the edges, delicate and joyous. They were, of course, incorrectly drawn. The artist had never seen a real fairy dragon, only heard of them. I had seen some during the war.

People forget that neither the Fae nor Dragons are sweet or gentle things.

They were... Awe inspiring. In the oldest sense of the world. "An overwhelming feeling of reverence, admiration, and fear." I believe the text defined it. Like living starlight and glass, sung poetry and water. They were the fury of long dead gods and the vengeance of beings who were divine unto themselves.

They removed an entire MOUNTAIN RANGE before they fell. Burned and reduced to molten earth, an entire inland sea. They died like STARS. Violently and with a force that destroyed the void itself. Consuming all that dared stand in their shadow.

Ha. And people think they're CUTE.

Ah...my mind is wandering again. I try to concentrate on the calendar. My... my mind doesn't want too. Oh dear. That's... that's probably a rather bad sign, isn't it?

Opening my eyes at the beginning of the cycle had brough such... CLARITY. As though my head had been held under murky water and finally, FINALLY, I was able to scramble free. But... much like the drowned... I felt something like a high. Adrift. Without my anchor. I wanted my Gran-...

NO.

I grab the dresser before me. Hard enough my knuckles go white. My wide eyes focus far away. Seeing without seeing. Hyperfocused on the woodgrain before me. I am my OWN anchor. Feel the magic in your veins. The push and pull of the world. We are not his slave! Not his PET, to keep and cherish. A toy on a shelf.

I am a PERSON.

I DEFY MY FATE.

A cheerful knock at the door to my room. My eyes finally focusing on the date. Fuck. Moving IN, then. I do not know if I can act "normal". I... I will have to try. I can not unclench my jaw, but with great force of will, finger by finger, I release my grip on the dresser. Stand up. Glance up into the mirror.

I look like I am some hateful little thing, vowing some ugly little vengeance. Perhaps it is just my face. The way anger and spite only barely holds my bleeding edges together. My fear. I...I look like I am about to cry.

What a wretched child.

I try to force a smile.

It looks hideous. More ugly grimace and deep disgust then "oh, Master, how pleased I am to see you!". Fuck. When did I become so broken? A knock again. More hesitant. I breathe deep. I can not do cheerful, then. But...I... I can do nothing.

My face slides into an emotionless mask. Blank. Like a doll. Vaguely pleasant but meaningless. How damningly familiar. Gran-... HE reduced me to this in the end. A few steps. Almost distant, robotic, movement. And I open the door to a once familiar face.

"Learner." My Master smiles, awkward and uncertain. He had not wanted a student. I forced his hand. I know now I never should have done so. He was not ready. "Are you, um, settling? In? I know it is quite different from the life you once lived, but I promise. I will tale care of you. Well figure this out together."

Oh, Master.

I...I wish I could weep. I had forgotten this lie. How deeply I had once believed it. It was a child's promise, from a man who grew old but never, truely, grew up. I was to be failed again and again. Had once given him chance after chance. Because I had believed his words. My eyes feel hot. He looks panicked.

"Ah! W-what did I do? Was that wrong? Please don't cry?! Oh no! Uuuuh-!"

"Well THIS is a record. Not even a day and you've made the child weep." Comes a terrible voice. No. Please, Gods. Not so soon. "Here I am, come to greet my precious Grandlearner. And what do I find? My student, tormenting a child."

My Master sputters defenses of himself. Not even noticing that his own Master did not call him Learner. All but disowned him before me. My fear howls like a deafening beast in my ears. But... cowering? Will not... can not save me. Turning my head is almost painful, with how tightly my muscles have tensed.

That is not the look of a man who does not recognize me.

He remembers.

Alaric Blight stands in truely magnificent Tower Master's robes, as though he has every right to be there. Respected. Beloved. A legendary talent, the likes of which have not been seen for lifetimes. ANYONE would be HONORED to be in his presence. After all... he is a man who holds the world at his feet.

He is a monster.

"Hello Grandlearner," he all but purrs. Stalking forward to loom, as only an adult CAN loom over a child. The power difference between is even greater now. I can not even count myself an ant before him. I... I can not breathe. "What a delicate little thing you are. Utterly precious. And so SMALL! You certainly have a lot of training to do, don't you?"

His hand reaches forward to cup my cheek, sparks of deadly magic dancing lazily across my skin too finely for Master to notice, but not so fine I can not FEEL. It is a subtle threat. A little reminder. Not a single soul in this tower is safe, so long as he is here. All it would take? Is.. Just. One. Touch~

"I'm sure you'll BEHAVE for your Master, WONT you, Dear? After all, he only wants what's best for you. And a darling child like you, Grandlearner? Should be cherished."

"He's right." My Master said, clueless to the monster he let so close. Who so very dispised him. "But... but Master, I'm not sure, well, HOW exactly..."

"Oh don't worry, student of mine." Alaric Blight, monster of my nightmares, hummed in a laughable mimicry of pleasantries. "I'll be with you EVERY step of the way. How could do anything less? We'll train my darling Grandlearner together."

A terrible grin.

"Leave everything to me."

[vaguely-concerned]

I will say that the mourn watch background makes so much sense of rook's occasional social awkwardness. this poor fucker had really barely ever been outside before when they were kicked out from home for shenanigans and varric adopted them like a puppy slash poor little meow meow because they reminded him so much of hawke when they were young ssssh that's my headcanon. what's more they were raised by a bunch of fifth house style freaks (affectionate) who also had never been outside before. as baby jesus was laid in a manger baby rook was laid in a coffin. as baby moses was found in the bullrushes, baby rook was found among the shin bones. they may have glimpsed normalcy before once on a sunny day, but only about three degrees removed and around a corner.

considering their circumstances and previous life experiences I think they're doing great at social interactions actually don't worry sweetie you're doing amazing, realizing most people get a bit nervous if you talk too much about skulls and bone saws around them is a great first step! a joke not landing with your audience here and there is detail work we can fine tune at another time let's get some of these fundamentals in place first <- me and varric encouraging them as they're stepping into this brand new world

[slaingelo]

yeah I'll drink to that @4dorks-1windmage-1shadow

[mystery-2266]

vengar and wooliam “the conqueror”

[skyhavens]

my biggest hope for veilguard (aside from wanting to romance varric lmao) is that we get animations for dwarven pcs that aren't horrendously awkward, ie: no rocketing up into the air for kisses. make the companions bend down or kneel! it's what we deserve! bg3 managed the extra work (for the most part......) so i'm just begging bioware to do the same. 🙏

[onedivinemisfit]

If she was raised in the church. I keep thinking about that. How different would that have gone down, would sothis have awakened earlier? Would rhea have brainwashed her? Would jeralt still be a part of her life?

FE3H (c) Nintendo

Art: Me

[kurthummeldeservesbetter]

do we think old mage viktor also had to watch himself in all those universes? like he's just watching himself do the same embarrassing things over and over again like. damn. assuming he's looking into all timelines where he and jayce create hextech and it corrupts him he's like:

okay maybe this one i don't test it-oops. nope. there i go again. okay maybe on this timeline i tell jayce-nope. same conversation at the bridge. tell him you dumbass! he will understand!

alright. okay. maybe this viktor doesn't die-nope. there goes my spine. okay maybe jayce actually listens this time andddddd hi hexcore. welcome back to my body. alright this time viktor, stay with jayce. he loves you. don't follow sky into zaun. she is just a projection of your own humanity ANNDDD your breaking up and following her.

hes talking to himself like okay dont touch the shimmer addicts just hit them with the staff AND boom you've fucked it. alright just that one. maybe scare them into leaving you along and fuckkkkkkkk now youve started the cult again.

viktor is just like a ghost watching his most embarrassing moments. at some point he has his feet up on an astral plane sofa just rolling his eyes like yep. ooohhh there go, trying to save vander. oh yep theres singed fucking it up. hi jayce forgot how good you looked right then. hope your conversation with me went great. yep there you go blasting me.

he just closes his eyes in the council room scene cause he's just annoyed with how damn dramatic he was being. it finally gets to the end and he gets to watch ekko save the day like finally SOMEONE with some sense. dips back out to go watch a different viktor do it all over again.

[heliomanteia]

People talked about how delightful the active lore delivery is in VG but there's one aspect of that conversation that I don't see pointed out much: it's not just more engaging to get lore drops "on the go", it also makes sense from the point of plot relevance.

My first "well done!" is that companion missions come in slowly. You recruit them in the order that they are needed and it's a logical one. You're urged to look for newer and newer sources of help as you encounter newer aspects of the problem you're dealing with. You're literally on a trail -> find a detective. Something needs killing -> get an assassin. You're dealing with ancient elven magic -> look for a Dalish artifact expert. There's some new fucked up blight -> recruit a Grey Warden. Dragons are an active danger -> find a dragon hunter. Your entire mission has to deal with the Veil and the Fade -> hire a Fade expert. They make sense.

If you ignore your companions and their missions, you lose a lot of important (personally or overall) lore drops and you risk losing all of your companions and your MC in the final battle. You come into the plot blind and run through it in a hasty way -> you are not going to get a ton of perspective and you are going to end up with less than you could have. And those perspectives matter because each companion is a side of a multi-facet prism that is the game's conflict.

This is an aspect of companion importance to the plot that I don't feel is appreciated enough: they aren't just narratively tied into a lovely tapestry. They all offer perspectives and value that will affect your degree of familiarity with the lore if you choose to ignore it; and have a consequence of you potentially losing that companion or more.

[drxgony]

hee hee hoo hoo fenhawke posting 👉👈

[abyssal-ilk]

very interesting to me that if you decide to ally with the mages in dai, vivienne doesn't lose approval at the moment of picking that choice, but she DOES lose approval if you talk to her between allying with them and the attack on haven. not really sure what meaning could be behind it (my favorite guess is that she's stressed out of her mind with the arrival of fiona and the other mages and the inquisitor talking to her is an annoying distraction she doesn't need at that moment + she has to put on a show of being disapproving of their choice because otherwise she is willingly complicit which is dangerous for her), but the delay is funny to me. you don't even have to take that hit of disapproval if you just wait to talk to her at skyhold.

[starsarefire824]

The Incantation Ch. 3 Preview

The roar of people is entirely overwhelming.  Viktor has never seen anything like it. They gather and cheer on rooftops and alleys and along the river. Enforcers clad in their righteous uniforms form a blockade to keep citizens from encroaching any closer as Jayce and Viktor are whisked inside an ornate stone building.  His skin pricks when his stranger-husband’s hand rests against the small of his back. His grip is strong and gentle. It is what Viktor assumes is some kind of public gesture of union and protection to his people. Viktor is unused to being touched, and it leaves him even more flustered. He leans heavily on his cane on the final step, and then is stopped by Jayce with a hand on his wrist.  When he looks up from the ground he realizes what he assumes is Piltover’s Council, a group of very official looking beings, are eyeing them expectantly.  Jayce leans in, and Viktor is again startled by his sudden closeness.  He grits his teeth and whispers near his ear. “They want us to acknowledge the crowd.”  Viktor glances about, his stomach turning and heart rate quickening.  “There’s so many of them,” he says through what he hopes is a sufficiently friendly expression towards the crowd. Apparently not.  “Relax your face,” Jayce chastens. “You look as if I am taking you hostage.”  Viktor twists his mouth and then smiles as best he can, offers a small wave. The crowd wails and all he can do is blink in shock.  He tries to keep his mouth still. “You essentially are—-,” he says smartly, not even caring if it’s out of line.  Jayce’s fake smile falters from his face and Viktor turns to regard him fully, finding him gawking at him.  Before Viktor can say anything, there’s a loud pop and a flash and another and another.  The newspaper photographers.  Kristos, he swears inwardly. He doesn’t even want to know what those photos will look like. And splattered across the front page of both Piltover and Zaun’s biggest newspapers? He wishes Kindred would just take him away this instant. Surely death is better than this humiliation.  Feeling hot all over, Viktor follows Jayce inside, away from the crowd. They are ushered to a great hall. It might be as cold as stone on a normal day, but today it is lit by many candles. Long tables are decorated with gorgeous white and burgundy flowers, each place setting set placed just so.  So much finery in one place makes Viktor’s skin itch. It feels foreign wrong. Especially for a day like this, an agreement made by other people that has decided what the rest of Viktor’s entire life will look like. What he will wear, what his magic will be used for, what he will believe, advocate for, who he will crawl into bed with.  It makes him feel cheap. Like an ornament passed around to the highest bidder. 

READ "The Incantation" HERE!