#garahel

[the-rebel-archivist]

It took a minute to piece together why Davrin's armour was so familiar despite being such a unique warden design but then it finally clicked. And it's brilliant.

Davrin has griffon rider armour.

Modernized, of course - it's been almost 500 years after all. If Garahel's armour took some inspiration from WWI pilot uniforms, Davrin's pulls from WWII, drawing on the vibe of the classic leather jacket with the wide, high collar taking the place of lambswool.

It's debonair and cavalier, a griffon rider for these modern times of 9:52, but it keeps the same colour scheme and basic elements of brown leather on blue cloth with sparse metal elements. And there's even a nod to the leather scales on Garahel's shoulder on Davrin's.

[sky--phantom]

This made me both sad and glad that I'm reading Last Flight

[ghostwise]

I've been working on something exciting for @dragonageannual ✒️💚

[nightingaletrash]

I love the Last Flight so much tho, the way it truly encapsulates the horror of the Blight. How a single day of dawdling was enough for Antiva's royals to doom their people. The soul-rending endlessness of it, and how even the biggest victories are only temporary unless they can get you to the Archdemon.

It also shows how, by this point, the Grey Wardens have come to be so respected that its detrimental. When they say that a Blight is here, they're listened to and people react accordingly, but Antiva's royals really believed that the Wardens could save their city - its why they sent for them, they believed they could turn the tide of the entire horde and were shocked when the Wardens said 'we can't save your city, the best we can do is help to evacuate you and your people before it's too late.' And then that belief keeps them from listening to the Wardens when they say that they can't perform a miracle. And it costs them everything.

Then there's Isseya's blood magic, and how the novel shows us that while she never used it for malignant purposes, there was a huge cost for her... but it wasn't entirely her fault. The first time her blood magic had a horrible cost - when her altered Joining practically destroyed a griffon's mind and filled him with hatred - she swore off of using the spell ever again. It's not until the First Warden orders her to do it over and over again does the magic take its toll by accelerating the Taint in her blood. And when her spell proves to have created a blight disease unique to griffons, the fault lies largely with the First Warden as he failed to enact quarantines and he kept using the griffons as messengers. If Isseya had had her way, Shrike would have been the only griffon to have been changed, but the pressure from Garahel and the First Warden and Lisme and everyone else that insisted that the joined griffons were a solution made it so that she couldn't say no.

There's just a lot going on in the Last Flight that really communicates things better than the games do without diving into codexes. Origins doesn't really show just how soul-grinding and all-consuming a Blight is supposed to be because this is the weird one that only lasted a year. DA2 only shows the consequences of blood magic via the reactions to it as opposed to the real consequences of the magic itself. And Inquisition's attempt to portray the Wardens as flawed and sometimes misguided comes off as dismissive of the order itself.

The Last Flight describes how the Blight changes the landscape as it spreads and shows our characters changing and ageing as it goes on, with the protagonists going from a couple of fresh-faced recruits to aged veterans over the span of a decade. We see a real, tangible consequence of blood magic beside the societal reactions to it. And we see the Wardens at their best and at their most flawed; from evacuating and saving as many people as they can from the Darkspawn, to recklessly forcing blood magic on their griffons and failing to enact proper quarantines when the first signs of the problem began to appear. Its such a damn good book and I love it so much 💜

[inquisimer]

mer's arlathan eXchange works

Creators for the 2024 @arlathanxchange have been revealed and I'm excited to share the pieces I wrote! I was absolutely inspired by the wealth of amazing prompts and had a lot of fun creating all of these.

Check out the entire collection here for more amazing works! Thank you to everyone who created lovely gifts for me💜

a sky full of stars - gift for @about2dance | Rated G, Alistair/Female Surana, 2512 words

what has been forgotten - treat for @kiastirling-fanfic | Rated G, Avexis & Cassandra Pentaghast, 2523 words

show me your thorns - treat for @amarmeme & @kiastirling-fanfic | Rated T, Alistair/Avexis, 2059 words

what time does with us - treat for @kiastirling-fanfic | Rated T, Fiona & Female Surana, 1672 words

gatekeeper of an endless war - treat for the collection | Rated T, Garahel (Solo), 1145 words

I still use velvet gloves - treat for the collection | Rated T, Alistair & Female Surana, 3324 words

summaries and more below the cut!⬇️

a sky full of stars - gift for @about2dance

Rated G | Alistair/Female Surana | 2512 words | No Archive Warnings Summary: On their way to Haven, Alistair and An'da share a moment under the stars. An'da is about2dance's OC and she has SO many layers!! It was an absolute joy to dig into her lore and craft this bit of fluff for her and Alistair. Dorks in Love, my beloved😌

what has been forgotten - treat for @kiastirling-fanfic

Rated G | Avexis & Cassandra Pentaghast | 2523 words | No Archive Warnings Summary: Cassandra seeks an alternative means for the Inquisition to fight the red lyrium dragon. Kia rolled in with SO MANY good Avexis prompts and this one snatched me up right away, I just had to write the Dawn of the Seeker reunion that we never got.

show me your thorns - treat for @amarmeme & @kiastirling-fanfic

Rated T | Alistair/Avexis | 2059 words | No Archive Warnings Summary: Over a cup of tea, Avexis confronts Alistair about his intentions—and finds common ground she wasn't expecting. The Alistair/Avexis ship was another genius idea of Kia's and it was so fun to play in that sandbox! And to see other people there as well :3 I loved the idea of Avexis getting to have some of the first crush/love emotions she lost to Tranquility, and in the process found a link between post-Tranquility Avexis and formerly-Drunk Alistair that just clicked.

what time does with us - treat for @kiastirling-fanfic

Rated T | Fiona & Female Surana | 1672 words | No Archive Warnings Summary: At Leliana's behest, Surana makes a detour through Skyhold before heading West in her search to cure the Calling. Two elven Circle mages-turned-Wardens, one who was somehow Cured of the Blight and the other in search of a Cure? Yeah, this was just another pairing too juicy to pass up. They're so similar!! And Fiona is right there, and Leliana definitely can contact Surana, and you can see how I ended up here. I haven't thought much about Surana as a Warden, since my Surana is not, so this was a fun one to dive into!

gatekeeper of an endless war - treat for the collection

Rated T | Garahel (Solo) | 1145 words | Major Character Death Summary: The Wardens sent him and Isseya to the Anderfels. Garahel would not forget. Even though this didn't quite fit anyone's specific requests, I've been all up in my Last Flight feels since reading the novel a couple months ago and couldn't resist. Garahel, the city elf Warden hero, his legacy of lifting up and protecting the lowest in society lost to a history that didn't want to remember his ears. I broke my own heart a bit exploring how his knowledge of that legacy might have worn him down by the end ;-; (also check out the quote that I used to title this fic because DAMN if it isn't Grey Wardens to a T, especially elven and/or mage wardens)

I still use velvet gloves - treat for the collection

Rated T | Alistair & Female Surana | 3324 words | No Archive Warnings Summary: The Landsmeet wounded Alistair and Catrin Surana in ways only time can heal. This piece was inspired by some of the prompts in this year's exchange, and even though it ended up not quite fitting anyone's requests specifically, I'm still quite please with it! An exploration of the broken friendship between King Alistair & Warden Commander Surana after she spares Loghain, and how they come back together over the years. Not gonna lie, I did not have a Warden Surana OC before I dove into this fic but. uh. now I do 😂 it was a lot of fun to look at this friendship dynamic from a more turbulent angle!

DAFF Tag List: @warpedlegacy | @rakshadow | @rosella-writes | @effelants | @bluewren

@breninarthur | @ar-lath-ma-cully | @dreadfutures | @theluckywizard | @nirikeehan

@oxygenforthewicked | @exalted-dawn-drabbles | @melisusthewee | @blarrghe | @agentkatie

@delicatefade | @leggywillow | @plisuu

[dragonageannual]

Meet the Legends: Garahel

Introducing the myths and legends of Dragon Age Annual 2025: Legacies! Garahel features in fic as part of our zine, Sagas.

Click Here to order DAA 2025: Legacies NOW!

Orders Close:

Physical Copies & Merch: October 31st

Digital Calendar & Zine: January 31st, 2025

Codex Entry: Garahel's Helm

I watched from across the battlefield as Garahel struck the final blow against the Archdemon and a great wave of energy surged out from the beast. It was enough to level what buildings were not already destroyed by the endless battle we had fought, enough to knock horses and ogres aside as if they were little more than parchment. Even at my distance, the force struck me like the blast of some great storm. The darkspawn around us felt it too, as savage desperation turned to sheer terror. A great pillar of energy rushed up into the dark clouds, the blackness that had gathered with the horde and blocked out all glimmer of hope. When we stood again, we saw the first rays of sunshine peeking through those clouds and we let out such a cheer of joy and relief that it shook the very earth. I joined the others as we searched for Garahel, but as the eve approached all I found was his enchanted helm. It was not until much later that I heard his body had been retrieved, flung to the far side of the battlefield by the Archdemon's death throes. My friend, this elf who helped us unite the lands and cleanse Thedas of the darkspawn scourge will always be remembered. I swear it.

—Excerpt from a letter written by the Grey Warden Prosper, 5:24 Exalted

[verenalattanzi]

Isseya and Garahel from the dragon age novel "Last Flight" written by Liane Merciel.

Reworked her portrait. Sometimes I stare so long at something that my view gets totally scewed. Always good to get up more often.

Still far away from what I want, so it will be portraits for a while. Enough characters left in those books that no one yet has visualized.

[attractthecrows]

let it also be said that I love the Mahariel + Lavellan worldstate. It's so haunted. You are Dalish, you are not a part of human culture, but by happenstance you're dragged into it and to the forefront of hell to save a world that hates and fears your people. You have no choice. You can never return to your home, to the familiar, to anything you've ever known. You will be an echo; Mahariel echoing Garahel, Lavellan echoing Mahariel. You're so proud of your Dalish heritage, but your identity doesn't matter at all. Doomed to be a martyr for a people that do not respect you and cannot understand you, while your clan mourns, lamenting that they cannot bury you, no life-tree to stand as your memory. You're a hero. You're already dead. You died the moment you left your clan.

[theaologies]

I am once again asking the Dragon Age fandom to read Last Flight for your Griffon Lore

[vigilskeep]

when they still have a mabari labelled ‘sick mabari’ in the pen but you’re playing cousland and already have a mabari so it won’t let you interact

[arcandoria]

some of the books got me pretty emotional but it's The Last Flight that finally managed to get me crying

[anderstrevelyan]

Anyway now that I’m thinking about Surana, just reading through some old prompt fills and having Jowan-related feelings:

In 9:20 Dragon:

The elf that’s allergic to elfroot—that’s going to stick.  “How could you not know?” the mage in the clinic asks, anger in her voice, as the templar waits to walk him back. Surana looks at his shoes. He doesn’t tell her he’d never seen the stuff before, that he was only dragged here last week—that all those apprentices who laughed never listened long enough to learn his name, that he wants, more than anything, to go home. He’s learned they like it better when he doesn’t talk. And Surana really, really likes to talk.  They send him to a new class, one that’s working with a different herb today, and sit him next to two human boys he’s never seen. One has his nose buried in a book, the first in a stack of five, and he jumps when the enchanter shouts at him to put them away. The other whispers something in his ear that makes him laugh. They’re friends already, then.  Surana looks down, pulling his new robe tightly over the splotchy rash on his hands. He wants to disappear. “Hey, I don’t think we’ve met before!” Surana startles, eyes wide. They’re talking to him? “I’m Jowan. This is Garrett. What’s your name?”

In 9:35 Dragon:

He’s always been Surana, just Surana. It always felt too ostentatious, too lofty, too ridiculous—Garahel—being named for the hero who stopped the fourth Blight. He can’t change the world. He can’t even convince a room full of arguing mages that they should support separating from the Chantry.  Today’s meeting of the Libertarian Fraternity is quiet, angry, with none of the hope that tied them together just a few years before. Until Fiona strides through the door. “I have someone new who’d like to meet with us,” she says. “You’ve heard of him, I imagine.”  Surana’s surrounded by whispers—“The Hero of Ferelden!” “The Warden-Commander?”—but Surana just sees him. His old friend Garrett. Fiona had hoped they’d all have dinner together that night, but they steal away to the corner of the hall, just the two of them. They don’t say his name, not yet, but they set out a chair for Jowan anyway, the lost member of their trio. “It’s good to see you again,” Surana says, clasping his shoulder. He can’t resist making fun of him, for how many children in the coming years will be called Garrett, too.

[sky--phantom]

This one was pain

[chronalshifts]

pretty committed to bellara as my first rook’s romance but ALSO there is just something about him and davrin that’s making me crazyyy 😵‍💫

[nightingaletrash]

Garahel: wait, you've not been with anyone at all after all these years? Isseya: no Garahel: really?! I thought you and Calien maybe- Isseya 'I'm too aroace for this shit': absolutely fucking not

[inquisimer]

for garahel! 'If they wept for him, he couldn’t hear it.'

ro I just 😭😭 I MADE MYSELF CRY AGAIN, I'm so fucking emotional about these two 😭 where do I put all these FEELINGS

for @dadrunkwriting | Isseya & Garahel | wc: 716

-

His mind made the same leaps as Isseya’s, at almost exactly the same time. For all that they thought differently, they had spent their lives together and sometimes they thought just the same. He saw the last of the Tainted griffons fall, Edelys, frozen and incapable, and he saw Isseya, lips pressed together, gather Revas’ reins for one last dive.

No.

No sooner had he thought it than Crookytail was moving under him, drawing alongside Revas so that they could stop Isseya before she gave herself up.

If it was to be one of them—and it was, there was no other way, this could not all be for naught—Garahel would not let it be her.

His beloved sister. He’d seen the light in her eyes when they first saw the griffons; the bright joy that bubbled up when Revas wrapped her up in a wing. Of course he’d felt something similar with Crookytail—but none of them ever felt the griffon’s beating heart as Isseya had.

And now the griffons were dying.

He did not know exactly what dark magic Isseya had worked on Strife, those fateful years ago, but he recognized the blame in her eyes. The self-flagellation and disgust at the sight of their great beasts with bloodied beaks and pure, unadulterated rage in their eyes. Whatever she had done to save the griffons had condemned them just the same. Perhaps even worse. And she would never forgive herself for it.

But it was not only her fault. He could have stopped her.

It was his Joining kit that she took, back when he was a Field Commander and she was not. His supplies that she used in that first experiment. If he’d stopped to question her, listened to the nagging in the back of his mind that something was not right, he might have saved her so much of the grief and corruption that weighed on her now.

And beyond that—he had given her secret away. He had been the one to tell the First Warden what she had done, given him the knowledge he needed to issue the order that killed them all. It was necessary, it had to be done, he would do it again—and that did not change the fact that it had hurt his sister, and he regretted that alone.

She was dying. Her hair had long since fallen out and in the rare moments that he saw her unwrapped from all the scarves, Isseya looked more like a ghoul than his sister. But he knew the shape and feel of her as well as he knew his own. He had known her all along and he knew her now still.

Which was why he knew she could fix this.

Isseya had worked impossible magic in her own right. She had a brilliant mind and so many people of the Free Marches owed their lives to her alone. It was her well-intentioned mind that poisoned the griffons and Garahel did not doubt that it was her mind alone that would find the answer, given a chance. A chance she would only have if she lived beyond today.

So even though it was, by rights, her blow to take, Garahel pushed Crookytail past her. They rarely flew the griffons so close, for risk of collision, but he could not stop himself from reaching out to brush bruised and battered knuckles against her shoulder one last time.

Be strong, Isseya, he thought as the wind whipped his hair about his face. You are strong. The strongest of us all. I love you. And I’m sorry.

“Give my love to Amadis, and my weapons to the Wardens,” he said. “And, Isseya, be kind to yourself.”

He prayed that she listened.

As he stood on Andoral’s spine, barely daring to think for fear that he would lose this precious chance, Garahel’s eyes caught on the dark speck that could only be Isseya on Revas, watching it all play out. He raised his blade in a salute she certainly couldn’t see, and drove it down through the Old God’s skull, deep into its Blighted brain.

And as the archdemon’s soul sought him out, as it ripped fire and agony and anguish through his mortal soul:

Isseya, be kind to yourself.