#i love her and her dwarven accent so much

[steamclouds]

Cattie-Brie Battlehammer the woman that you are...

[starryknight-dragonarts]

Worker Dwarf

Dwarf Mage Me and my friend are working on a new fantasy story together, and we wanted to come up with our own version of classic Fantasy races like Dwarves, Elves, Goblins, Orcs, etc… I like to add a twist to them that makes them very different than you expect them be; But also I feel like in a lot of recent fantasy stories people have taken some of the "Fantastic" out of fantasy. I know it's the "classic" look but, too often Elves and Dwarves are literally just like Humans with something a little different about them and are rigidly type casted into one or a couple of specific Stereotypes:

Dwarves are almost always short muscular hyper masculine men with big thick beards, wearing Viking inspired helmets, and talk with a scottish accent. They are gruff, speak very bluntly and might be super literal or can't take a joke; They are very industrious crafters and builders, said to be some of the best in the world but also very strictly traditional as to never make too much progress out of the realm of medieval fantasy. They Love Booze-Hate Elves, like to Boast about how strong they are, are obsessed with gold and other treasures, live in Gigantic cavernous mountain halls, and greatly favor Axes and Hammers over all over Weapons.

These Dwarves on the other hand are like nothing you would find in the natural world. I wanted them to exhibit some of the classic Dwarven traits you expect like having big beards, being skilled craftsmen, and living underground, but I also wanted them to truly feel like a magical creature.

Dungeon World Dwarves are like a weird cross between an Ant and a Potato-man. Dwarves have a Queen who's larger than all other Dwarves and doesn't even look human. She produces all other Dwarves from her body as buds, then once they are big enough, attendant workers will sever the buds from the queen and bury them to finish growing in special nursery garden chambers which help adapt the developing bud to whichever working role they are meant to serve in the colony. After they fully develop they just pop out of the ground as a conscious Dwarf who know exactly what their role is, and immediately get to work. When they first emerge from the ground, Dwarves have legs but no arms. Over time they will grow their own arms with tools specific to their jobs and can grow arms which also double as tools for their specific job, but when they start out they may borrow an arm from one of the older worker dwarves who can just pop off their own arms off if they don't need it, and stick it to another dwarf, they may even have an entire group of dwarves who's job is to grow and farm spare arms for new dwarves so there are constantly extra arms in circulation, but even with a borrowed arm Dwarves seem to prefer to grow their own. One arm is typically smaller and more human-like, meant for more versatile general usage, while the other arm tend to be exceptionally large and even weirdly proportioned having multiple joints or branching arms, which are coated in an Earth-like or Metallic Exoskeletal shell that grows into the shape of tools. These Tools are highly durable, and resist extreme heats, and while attached to the dwarf that grew them, if they sustain damage from use, they are capable of regenerating. They can also make several arms at a time if necessary, but they always seem to specifically have an odd number of arms and are never entirely symmetrical. These arms are also not fixed in one place on the body, they are mobile and able to slide around all over the dwarf's body.

[undead-potatoes]

Not sure if anyone else has beat me to this, but tell me about how Jay and Rory speak? Anything that makes their voice 'theirs'?

This took a while to answer, not just bc my brain tapped out, but I got this ask in the middle of a redesign of Jay, so it just sat in my drafts for over 9 months while I tried to figure things out 🙈

Jay:

None of the in-game voices really fit him, with Voice 3 being the closest, but it's honestly not that close either (more on that in a sec).

As he's a Baldurian born and bread, he should probably have a commoner Baldurian accent (which seems to be just plain old "standard TV bri'ish"), but I reaaally like the idea of him having an accent closer to some of those found in northwestern England. Something like a Mancunian or Scouse accent, where the vowels get all big and distorted.

I was re-watching Ted Lasso when it hit me: Jamie fucking Tartt is the perfect voice claim for Jay. The accent, the pitch, the slight vocal fry, the way he sounds a little whiny when he's upset. Even with a more "standard" accent, Phil Dunster (Jamie's actor) has all the other qualities to his voice that I want for Jay. As far as I'm concerned, Phil is the voice of Jay through and through.

His vocabulary is very casual, using lots of common slang and informal terms of address like "mate" and "love", even when talking to relative strangers, and gravitates towards "babe" as a term of endearment for romantic and sexual partners (and his bestie Karlach, who belongs to neither one of the aforementioned categories).

While he used to swear a lot when he was younger, he tries to keep most of his swearing under wraps, a conscious effort to appear more professional when dealing with clients. He also tries his best to practice speaking in a relatively calm and even manner when dealing with other people, as he has a bad habit of talking both too fast and too loudly, especially when he's excited about something or feels flustered.

Those last two kind of fall apart after he and Karlach become close friends, her more loud personality and copious swearing rubbing off on him over the months they spend together. He's not complaining though - it's a hilariously small price to pay for genuine friendship.

Aurora:

Aurora's in-game voice is Voice 6, and I think that's pretty close to how I imagine her voice to be. It's rich and deep, without being scratchy. Her speech is surprisingly mellow and quiet, and she doesn't raise her voice much. She's not meek though, just a little reserved and naturally quiet.

She has a lowborn/commoner Baldurian accent, with a distinct burr (pronounced Rs) due to her upbringing in a primarily dwarven community. I'd like to imagine there are bits and bobs of Scottish terms and ways of speech there too. (I mean I'd love to give her a Scottish accent, the sexiest thing on this planet, but I'll stay within Ed's own canon here and just add some extra shit to it lmao).

There's also the occasional random outburst, when the Urges become too loud and she can't shake them off. It's usually short and a little aggressive like "shut up" or "fuck off" mumbled under her breath, which actually kinda works (source: personal experience). Other people can probably hear it a lot of the time, but they're usually nice enough to not mention it.

She has auditory tics too, especially when she's extra stressed out, and the others can often gauge just how bad it is based on how intense the tics and fidgeting is.

- - -

Cult!Aurora was even more quiet, and had a bad habit of not answering people or letting on what she was thinking at all. It really added to her intimidating presence, even if that wasn't her intention at all, she just didn't deem the people around her important enough to answer. The only real exception here is probably Gortash, who she would actually hold entire conversations with, but even he had to get used to the eerie quiet she often brought with her.

[mrs-gauche]

Thank you for the translations! I have extra fun with them since my solavellan inquisitor was born in the Anders and then her family moved to her father’s clan when she developed magic. So Anders aka fantasy German is her first language. It’s super interesting reading about the different meanings and theories that come with it!

Ah, you’re welcome!! <3333 😁 I really enjoy making these posts, partially because it’s just so fun and interesting to compare translations, voices and voice acting to me! :D But I love this idea of the Inquisitor having another first language!

In general, I love how DA has implemented both real and fictional languages (and accents in the English version) in its worldbuilding, like aside from the obvious French, German, Spanish, Pseudo Latin in Orlais, Anderfels, Antiva and Tevinter, I love how you’ll hear the bard in Val Royeaux sing in French regardless of what version you play, or how the last verses of the original Grey Warden song are also sung in German, given that the Grey Wardens were founded in the Anderfels too (and fun fact, the song was actually performed by a German band called Corvus Corax!). And according to the World of Thedas book, the other verses are also in Dwarven, English and Elven, much in the spirit of the Grey Wardens uniting against the Blight regardless of race or origin. 😁

I wonder though if we’ll get to hear some more German phrases, if we get to visit Weisshaupt in DA4! 👀

(Also, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before, but even though I love Alix Wilton Regan too, the German female Inquisitor‘s VA, Manja Doering, is like one of my all time favorite VAs and I practically created my Lavellan with her voice in mind, so even now, it’s still a bit weird to me whenever I play in English or French and hear her talk with a different voice. lol)

[gentlemanjester]

NEW BOOK RANT: The Dwarves by Markus Heitz

So, I've made a rant about the Cirque du Freak movie. I've made a rant about the Last Dragon Chronicles by John d'Lacey. Now it's time to move away from the kids/teen genre and into something more adult.

For those who don't know, The Dwarves by Markus Heitz is apparently one of the most popular German fantasy series, translated into English. Since Dwarves are my favourite fantasy race, I had to pick it up. I tried to read it once, and didn't get far before moving onto something else. Then a few years back, I gave it another try and got through the first three books in the series: : The Dwarves, War of the Dwarves, and Revenge of the Dwarves. The books follow our protagonist, Tungdil, who's a foundling Dwarf as he battles orcs, Alfar (evil elves), and dark magic to save the realm of Girdlegard.

The first book introduces Tungdil as a plucky underdog; he was raised by one of the several Magus who defend Girdlegard, and is sent off on a journey by that Magus where he meets up with Boindil and Boendal, warrior twins (a lot of the Dwarven names do have accented characters, but I can't be bothered doing the key combos to put them all in), who tell him that he's been chosen as a candidate to become the Dwarven High King. Tungdil says "sure, but lemme do my errand first." So they do that, and return to find Tungdil's home wiped out by orcs and everyone killed. At the same time, an evil Magus has killed the others and become an evil wizard who's trying to bring darkness from outside Girdlegard.

Now, here's our first problem with the pacing of this book. Up until now, the chapters have been mainly Tungdil, interspersed with other perspectives: the Magi and the Dwarven council in the Secondling Kingdom. Tungdil learns that the person leading the Alfar and the Orcs is called Nod'onn, quite interesting. Maybe 2 chapters later, the Magus called Nudin (HMMMMMM) kills the other Magi and announces himself as Nod'onn. Not a lot of time to build suspense, there. On top of that, just a few chapters later, Tungdil and the twins leave his old home to find themselves surrounded by Orcs and Nod'onn, and they're saved by... Andokai. One of the Magi who was apparently killed but survived. There's no real buildup to her reveal, which makes it underwhelming.

Naturally, the protagonists prevail, and along the way, Tungdil finds love in the form of Balyndis, a Firstling. It's a happy ending, good prevails over evil. It's an okay book, the characters are great, but the book just took so many different directions. Tungdil has three different quests he goes on, one after the other, and as I mentioned, the pacing is really weird. You get big timeskips concerning travel; journeys which take weeks pass in a page or so, which is understandable but it stills feels very much like just a compilation of events.

So, the second book starts out with, basically, Tungdil and Balyndis breaking up because her clan don't want her marrying a Thirdling (oh yeah, turns out Tungdil is a Thirdling, a clan of Dwarves who hate and kill other Dwarves but he didn't know that at all). So she marries this dude who's elected the king of the new Fifthlings, and Tungdil goes away on a new quest with Boindil and Boendal, which takes him to the Free Cities; underground cities of Dwarves who don't belong to any one clan and live freely. Here, just a few pages removed from his ex-girlfriend, Tungdil falls in love with a new girl and marries her within a few chapters of meeting her. Of course, it turns out she's actually a Thirdling spy and betrays the heroes; she was also married to a Thirdling, but she's remorseful because she actually loved Tungdil? I think. To be fair, though, this reveal comes much later in the book, so we've got a lot more suspense there, especially with the identity of the spy split between her and another Freeling.

So the villain of this book is the Thirdling clan, who're doing their nefarious things to sow discord among the humans, Elves, and Dwarves who have since formed an alliance following the defeat of Nod'onn. I think it's in the Firstling Kingdom where the battle with the Thirdlings occurs... and then there's also another force coming to attack Girdlegard, called Avatars. Beings of light who purify everything in a cleansing fire. So again, we've got one quest, turning into another, turning into another. Also, Tungdil has lost his magic axe, Keenfire.

There's also the plot of Andokai (the surviving Magus) basically blackmailing the half-Alfar friend of Tungdil (Narmora) into being her apprentice by almost killing her husband, so she responds by engineering her death, and then Narmora dies in the climax because a crystal powered up by a super-pure Elf blows up and destroys all evil in Girdlegard (Alfar and Orcs, mainly).

The book ends with Balyndis and Tungdil getting back together and living happily ever after.

Okay, I'm not gonna bother writing the synopsis for the third book because it's late and I need to sleep, but I'll give you the highlights of why I dislike it.

So, 5 years have passed. Tungdil's a fat alcoholic now, still regarded as a hero and when he shows up, he's a shadow of his former self. He's sent off to do something I can't remember and Boindil joins him (Boendal died at the end of the last book, by the way). We learn that Tungdil's super depressed because he and Balyndis had a son, but that son drowned when a bridge collapsed, and he has survivor's guilt. But I kid you not, the very same chapter we learn this (which is like the 6th chapter of the book), Boindil says "get happy or I'll knock you over the ledge of this cliff" and Tungdil says "yeah I'm not suicidal anymore, also gonna stop drinking, and be better to my wife."

An extremely disappointing turn of events. It would've been fascinating to see Tungdil work through his demons during the book and get over his guilt, but... no. I think his son is mentioned three more times in the whole book.

The second main thing I dislike takes about three quarters of the way through the book and really took away any sympathy or relation I had with Tungdil. Because he basically falls in love with this foreign Dwarf from outside Girdlegard, despite being married and working so hard to get this marriage, and this bastard breaks up with his wife by sending her a FUCKING LETTER. His excuse? "Oh, I have an adventurous soul."

You fucking twat.

He was so depressed in the second book when he couldn't marry Balyndis, in fact he even had a little voice in his head telling him to kill the guy she'd ended up marrying, this is such a damned stupid decision and the only consolation is that Tungdil is presumed dead at the end (definitely not dead, but I'm not reading the others so yay).

The third thing I didn't like was that at the end, the maguffin can only be repaired by a "pure Magus." With Tungdil's old Magus adopted father now revived from being a statue, everyone assumes he'll be the one to do it but, gasp! He's been corrupted by the dark magic that corrupted Nudin in book 1! So who can save us? Well... it's a new Dwarf who was introduced in this book. A dwarf. All the lore up until now has been that Dwarves can't use magic, they don't like magic. And in this entire book, this Dwarf showed no sign of having anything to do with magic. No hints, no suggestions, absolutely nothing, and now all of a sudden "oh, you can use magic, go ahead and win the day for us." It is such a cop-out and makes no sense at all. Frustrating, to say the least.

And the last thing I hate about this book, I absolutely despise... is that it sets up some absolutely awesome thigns for the next book! A Dwarven Civil War! A gigantic dragon has shown up in Girdlegard! I would LOVE to read about those, but this book was just the nail in the coffin for my appreciation of this series.

The best way I can describe these books is that they're big events split up by nothingness, and those big events only last a page or two at the most. It was such a disappointing series to read. The protagonist becomes a dickhead by the end, even though it was meant to be his redemption in the third book. The characters are actually really good, but Heitz barely gives any suspense to their twists or returns. The world is actually awesome: the Dwarven clans, the human kingdoms, and then we learn about a bunch of other creatures from outside Girdlegard, such as the Acronta. So much potential, but it's just... disappointing in so many ways.

Small aside, the first book has a video game based on it (available on Steam, The Dwarves, and it's honestly a super faithful adaptation, and the character model for Djerun is freaking awesome).

Anyways, if you're thinking about this series, I'd say read only the first one. Anything further than that will be a disappontment.

[annoyed-galaxy]

Fictober 2024 ~ 10

"is this normal?"

Fanfiction - DAO:A I've been thinking a lot about Awakening Anders and how he and my Warden would have been really close friends as both of them are mages from the Circle of Fereldan. Despite being the Hero of Fereldan, Feril's mage status appears to be erased in most of the tales about her and some people still hate her because she's a mage. So I feel like the two of them would bond a lot on mage freedom and all that. So I just wanted to write something about the first interactions Feril and Anders might have had when he was recruited. I like to headcanon that she taught him what she knows as a spirit healer since that was her other specialization in the game. Can also be found on Ao3

Being a Grey Warden was freeing in its own way. He no longer had to worry about the templars and he was free to use his magic whenever. The only thing he didn’t like was the Deep Road part of it all. 

Anders traveled in the middle of their group, looking at the impressive dwarven architecture all around them. He had to admit, the dwarves were pretty talented, being able to do all this without magic. 

Leading the group was Warden-Commander Feril Surana, the legendary Hero of Fereldan and former Circle mage. She inspired Anders so much. She was a legend and she was a mage. Although Feril claimed to not like using her magic, she always did in combat, using magic to make her stronger and faster. Not to mention how powerful her healing was. 

Feril was both arcane warrior and spirit healer and her skills were mythical. Watching Feril fight in battle had truly been an amazing experience. It was no wonder how she was able to defeat the Archdemon and stop the Fifth Blight. He was honored to serve under her. Not to mention she did literally save him from the templars by Conscripting him. It might have also helped that she and the King of Fereldan, Alistair Theirin, were a couple, so of course King Alistair allowed her free reign to conscript whoever she wanted. 

That had been almost two weeks ago when Anders had taken his Joining. A green Grey Warden and now he was experiencing all that being a Warden had to offer. 

By his sides were Nathaniel Howe, the son of a disgraced arl that Feril had killed during the reign of Loghain, and Oghren, drunken dwarf who had traveled with Feril before. It was an odd merry band of people who followed the tiniest elf Anders had ever seen, but Anders enjoyed it. It was nice to be able to walk freely without worrying the templars were going to find him any second. Being a Grey Warden meant immunity and Maker, did he love it. 

Suddenly, Feril raised a hand, motioning for them to stop as her pointed ears flicked about. That’s when Anders felt it in his bones: a chilling whisper that traveled up his spine. He shuddered. 

“What was that?” Nathaniel asked, also shuddering. 

“Darkspawn,” Feril replied, her accent heavy and thick on the word. 

Anders felt something poking his mind and he gave in to it. He could feel…things nearby. It was like he was part of them, knowing their location and how many. Was this why they had to drink darkspawn blood? To be able to know where the creatures were? 

“Well let’s get to kicking some ass!” Oghren roared, taking out his war axe. 

Feril shook her head. “There’s too many for the four of us we—“ A loud roar cut Feril off and a moment later came the crashing sound of a wall collapsing. Or rather, the wall was busted as an ogre charged through it. Anders’s blood went cold as he saw the mighty beast. He fumbled with his staff and gulped hard. 

“Maker’s breath! What is that thing?!” Nathaniel cried out. 

Oghren let out a maniac laugh. “An ogre!” Then the dwarf started charging towards the large beast. 

“Oghren, wait you bastard!” Feril called out, but the dwarf ignored her. She groaned and unsheathed her sword and dagger. She looked back at Nathaniel. “Give us some support,” she pointed to the ogre. She looked towards Anders. “You, focus on the little ones.” She pointed towards the hurlocks and genlocks that were now flooding in after the ogre and into the corridor. “Use big group spells and wipe them out.” 

Nathaniel and Anders nodded, thankful to be ranged so that they could stay behind. Feril crossed her blades together and whispered an incantation and slashed them across one another, igniting the blades with flame. Then she put a hand on her chest and a dim corona formed around her. She sped off into the fray with inhuman speed. 

Anders and Nathaniel followed their orders, firing arrows and flinging fireballs into the growing horde of darkspawn. Anders felt another piercing chill down his spine as he sensed a darkspawn getting closer to him and Nathaniel. It was on the other side of the wall. 

“Look out!” he warned Nathaniel, just as soon as the wall exploded with another ogre charging through. Nathaniel jumped out of the way, dodging the falling debris barely. Anders, unfortunately, was not so swift. A large piece of rock collided into his chest knocking him down.

His vision blurred and he saw the ogre roar, spit flinging off of its teeth. Then it looked down at him with beady eyes filled with nothing but hate and rage. Anders tried to scramble to his feet, but the dull pain in his chest was too much. He cried out as the ogre’s meaty hand wrapped around him and pulled him. 

“Anders!” Nathaniel screamed, spinning around and launching some arrows into the ogre. The beast seemed unfazed and began to squeeze. Panic soared throughout Anders’s body and he tried kicking and punching the hand slowly squeezing him to death. Tears filled his eyes. Was this really how his short life of freedom was going to end?

He felt his bones begin to snap and he screamed an ear piercing scream that echoed off the walls of the Deep Roads. 

This was the end.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Feril felt the singe of her magic light up inside her as she hastened herself, throwing herself into the gray. Her flaming blades showered embers across the battlefield as she cut through the darkspawn on her way to Oghren and the battling ogre. The dwarf was handling his own quite well, hacking at the ogre’s heels, but Oghren was too confident. Ogres could sometimes be unpredictable. Feril knew this well. They were large and cumbersome, but they could also be quick and sneaky when you least expected it. 

There blood and gore all over her as she carved her path. Her magic barrier surrounding her dulled any small cuts and scrapes that managed to land on her. Arrows bounced off the magical ward. And even for the weapons that managed to make it through, they were stopped by her armor and the owner of said weapon quickly decapitated. 

She finally made it to the ogre, not hesitating for a moment. She ran and willed the air around her to gather. Oghren let out another battle roar upon her approach and braced himself for this. They had done this multiple times before, a very useful tactic. Feril jumped, landing with one foot on Oghren’s shoulder and then pushing with both her leg and magic into the air. Oghren also shrugged his shoulder up, giving her an extra boost. 

She flew across the air, wind soaring through her hair until she landed on the ogre’s back. She caught herself with her sword embedded in its flesh. It roared and tried to swat her off, but she was too small for its arms to reach back and grab her. She willed fire into her blade, burning the ogre’s flesh before pulling it out and using the force to launch herself up. Despite wearing heavy armor, Feril’s magic allowed the bulky set to not weigh anything one her allowing her to move nimbly like any other elven rogue would. 

She had the might of a warrior, agility of a rogue, and the magic of mages. 

She was an unstoppable force, worthy of her title as the Hero of Fereldan. 

She swung her blade around the ogre’s neck and with her own roar, forced the blade deep into its throat. Her eyes lit with flame as she willed another burst of fire into her blade, making it burn and burn until the fire escaped the ogre’s eyes and mouth, searing its insides and causing it to fall. Feril pulled her blade out and backflipped off the ogre’s face and landed gracefully on the ground just as the great beast fell back with a loud thud! 

She swung back around and dealt with the remaining darkspawn. Her blood ran cold when she heard another loud crash and looked up to see that another ogre had crashed into the corridor behind them. She heard the faint scream of Nathaniel saying something, but then she saw the ogre reach down and grab someone. 

The scream that spilled from Anders’s mouth pierced Feril’s ears as she watched the ogre squeeze him. 

King Cailan’s body flashed in her eyes, the royal majesty snapped in half by an ogre during the battle at Ostagar. 

Fury filled her and the wind around her picked up. She ignored the rest of the darkspawn, knowing Oghren could handle these grunts, as she flew past them all, riding the speed of the wind she commanded. In a flash, Feril used her magic to burst her once more and then angled her blades. She spun like a saw and sliced through the ogre’s hand that had grabbed Anders. The mage and severed hand fell to the ground and neither moved. 

Feril went blind with fury, snarling at the ogre as she launched herself at its face. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Anders’s eyes fluttered open and suddenly his body was bursting with pain. However, the pain was slowly receding as a coolness filled his insides. He was resting against someone’s legs and as his vision slowly recovered, the white blur that he saw in front of him cleared into the whitening hair of Feril. 

Her face was covered with blood, but her elven eyes were so soft and calm. There was a gentle blue hue cast on her face from the spell she was casting that shone in her eyes. She was so beautiful his heart ached. 

Then he saw where her hands were and noticed they were on his chest and the source of the coolness in his body was coming from there. He could feel his insides shifting, bone snapping back together, internal bleeding sealed up. Even the soreness around his sides and front and back started to ease away with the soothing cold. 

“Is this…normal?” he managed to wheeze out, his voice barely audible. 

Feril looked up at him and smiled the most gorgeous smile he had ever seen. “For Grey Wardens? Yeah.” Her ears flicked up to emphasize her smile. 

He allowed his head to fall back and then realized the person who’s lap he was laying against. 

“Is he going to be okay?” Nathaniel asked, holding Anders’s head up a little. 

Feril nodded. “If it were anyone else but me healing him, then no. I’ve had a lot of practice healing in my journeys and I’ve seen worse than this.” 

Anders let out a laugh, but it sounded like a simple release of air. “I didn’t know you were so powerful with healing.” 

Feril shrugged. “I don’t use that much magic when fighting, preferring to use it to compliment my swordplay. So I have lots of reserves left for stuff like this. Or even during battle. Since you went through a severe injury, it had to wait until after the fight.” 

Anders looked around and saw all the corpses lying on the ground. “Did we win?”

“No, we actually lost and are in the afterlife,” Feril snarked, but with a humorous glint to her eyes. She finished her healing and pulled her hands away, the blue glow on her face dissipating. “You guys did well for newbies,” she said to Nathaniel and Anders as she stood up. She offered her hand and Anders took it. Her hand was still cold from the soothing healing spell she had cast. 

Nathaniel stood up behind Anders and smiled. “Other than the giant ogre almost killing Anders, I think I agree with that statement!” 

Anders smiled down at Feril. “Thank you for saving my life,” he said giving a slight bow of his head. 

Feril waved it off. “What kind of Commander would I be if I let my companions die on my watch? Besides, you’re a friend Anders. We mages gotta look out for each other,” she said as she nudged his arm. She turned to the rest of the group, clapping her hands. “Alright, let’s head out of here. Time to eat some grub and get some nice sleep.” 

The men nodded and followed the elf. Oghren stumbled behind, the fury of battle slowly fading away and his drunken stupor returning. 

Maybe being a Grey Warden wasn’t so bad after all. At least not with Feril Surana leading. 

[moondustocean]

OC/PC Masterpost because there are many of them and I love talking about them c:

First things first: my canon run is always a bit chaotic, I try not to reload and only go for the choices the character I roleplay would make. That's how I get the most fun out of RPGs c: (I had a hard time falling in love with Inky and when I finally found a canon one he chose the opposite of anything I'd have done.)

• Cyberpunk | V - the one who deserved better

only got a bit cyberware installed after the voodoos betrayed him - is a beast anyway | canon ending: the tower | 2079 is like waking up from a bad trip and all the guilt hits him at once | he's a fixer now and tries to make NC his city

• Dragon Age (I need to make a "collage" for my DAO babies and Hawke as well someday. I haven't posted about any of them yet, so no links for now.)

Meena: canon HOF | dwarven commoner | rogue | sacrificed herself because she didn't really understand magic and wasn't sure if she could trust Morrigan's ritual | was a warden with all her heart

Diem: elf | circle mage | used to despise blood magic but ended up taking advantage of it anyway to save his friends | travels the world and looks for a cure at the moment

Kiwa: warden commander | human | rogue | took Anders in after he fled from Kirkwall | gives wine evenings at the warden's keep

Hawke: mage | purple | I went with canon male Hawke bc I played DAI first and instantly fell in love with him. He's in the fade rn ._. I hate my Inky sometimes.

Feodore: the inquisitor | human | mage | made everyone believe he's the herald of andraste because he liked the attention that came with it | was an arrogant idiot until he saw the future | most of his decisions were based on his hunger for wisdom | loves forging

Vi'Alla: elf | mage | got adopted by an old couple when she was one | was on the run from the templars but ended up in a circle for two years until she was sent to the conclave | has a thick accent

Yumaí: dwarf | rogue | if there are potions missing in Skyhold she has them | Sera will probably follow Yumaí around when she joins the wardens because she distrusts them and loves Yumaí so much

Ha'Jae: elf | rogue | lost one of his twelve cousins at the conclave, and wanted to avenge them so badly that he joined the Inquisition, even though he dislikes everyone but the dalish

• Baldur's Gate 3

Sandalion: half-elf | rogue | chaotic good | was an adrenaline junkie and did everything to get a kick | he slowly became somekind of "hero" who still stole from everyone around him | leads the Guild now

Cyanahara: high-elf | bard/babarian | chaotic neutral | is a "if you want something to be done right do it yourself" - person | Sandalion just needs to breathe and Hara is annoyed by him

Osha: tiefling | druid | lawful good | would do about anything to avoid fights | loves to adopt random stuff - pets, strangers, plants | is extremely glad about being a druid

• Mass Effect I'm not going to share much about my Shepard online bc he's my dearest PC.

earthborn | soldier | ace | clean for 15 years now | stone-cold until he "died" in ME2 and slowly learned to feel and function like a normal human being again. "Oh no! by Mariana and the Diamonds" is the best way to descripe my man.

[anglbrkr]

Breakfast [Orc/AFAB Male Reader] 🔞

Breakfast 

Man I love orcs

Content Warning: Afab genitalia vocab but mainly anal, forced marriage, past noncon and present dubcon, free use, enslavement (✊🏾), monsterfucking, anal with no lube, pain during the act, mind break, sex and sex and pain and sex and yeah, also my bad attempt at this weird scottish or pirate accent, im sorry scotts and pirates

You know the drill

3.4k works

[N] no longer flinches when he feels the orc’s large hand grope at his body. Rather, his eyes flutter half mast, biting his lower lip each time the orc’s thick fingers dig into his arse, sighing softly as they’re kneaded and spread apart through the fabric of his loin cloth.

A month or three prior, he would’ve jumped, desperate to move away from his captor’s touch, and his eyes would brim with tears each time Valen would force him back into place, wincing when a harsh slap would meet his behind as punishment. It’s odd how much can change in a number of weeks.

The elven lad discarded cooking utensils, his arms against the counter as he pushes his behind farther into the orc’s rough hand, gyrating his hips ever so slightly. His mind becomes fuzzy each time as if he’s been conditioned to respond to Valen’s touch, mouth falling open to let out small whines. A quiver runs down [N]'s spine as the orc's thick fingers press against his sensitive opening. He looks up at the ceiling as Valen presses a finger inside the tight ring, curling it just enough to give [N] some sense of relief.

"Good mornin', love," Valen's lips press against his ear, his voice deep and raspy, his morning breath evident. "Woke up before me, eh?" His thick finger unhurriedly pulls out before pushing back in, his other hand working its magic between [N]'s thighs.

[N] moans, panting heavily, head hanging forward against his chest as he tries to catch his breath. Valen moves slowly, his motions slow, teasing [N] as his mate closes his eyes to enjoy the ride.

"Yer such a good little wife, aren't ya? Preparin' breakfast without having me ask," Valen hums, pulling out completely only to push another finger in. "Such a sweet young thing."

[N] shifts uncomfortably at Valen calling him that—his wife. It wasn't supposed to go like this, or so he thought. He moans weakly, shivering under the assault, his shoulders hunching forward and his legs crossing over one another. Not long ago he was home with his father, chief of the village, preparing for a celebratory feast. One of their merchants had struck gold, making a fine deal with a dwarven man, and shared her wealth with his father, who then shared it with everyone else. It was fantastic, farms were being reinforced, new homes were being built, and it truly seemed like they would have a prosperous year…

He finds himself leaning further backward and letting out a quiet whimper, closing his eyes tightly, willing away what lies ahead. The grips [N]'s hip and pushes him closer to the counter. His insides still ache from the evening before, there were even bruises to remind him. If anything, [N] has become accustomed to the soreness since the first time Valen took him. Valen's seed from last night is still snug inside him, and the orc takes advantage of [N]'s slick flesh.

[N]'s knees hit the edge of the countertop, his feet dangling as Valen grinds his groin into [N]'s ass. At this point, the elf's loincloth is untethering itself, revealing a hint of his nether region. [N] lets out a squeak as his buttocks clench around the intruder.

"W-what about breakfast," the elf stutters, looking back at Valen as he works the third finger in, stretching him wider and deeper. "You should eat something while you're awake," he adds with a pout.

Rather than answer, Valen rolls [N] over, turning their positions to have [N]'s back lying flat against the countertop. Save for the cloth wrapped around his chest, the elven lad is bare before the orc, all of his body laid bare for Valen's gaze.

As Valen drops the loose end of [N]'s loincloth to the floor, [N] folds his hands together across his stomach and clenches his eyes shut, trying to prepare for the worst.

"Breakfast can wait, lad," Valen places his near-hard manhood against the elven lad’s thigh, "I woke up this morning, harder than a rooster, and yer weren't there." With a wicked grin, Valen smirks down at [N] and leans close, kissing his cheek. "So I decided to come find ye myself…"

His words send a thrill through [N]'s body, despite his reluctancy and reluctance of Valen. The elven by’s face heats up, nodding, giving him another small smile. He had been trained well to obey and please the orc, his own body betraying him and reacting to Valen's presence. Even after a month of captivity, [N] knows he cannot refuse his orc captor.

"Ahhh…love," Valen kisses [N] again, pressing his face into the elf's shoulder, his hand cupping the back of [N]'s neck. His hair tickles the orc’s nose, his warm scent intoxicating. Valen wraps his fingers gently around the elven lad’s wrist, holding his arm firmly as the orc presses [N] deeper onto the countertop. "I could never stay away from that hole of yers," he murmurs, sliding his blunt organ along [N]'s slit and pinching the base, making sure the elf is aware he plans to penetrate [N] later. "Nay," Valen shakes his head in amusement, "I think we'll save that for tonight." [N] bites lightly at his bottom lip as the orc continues to stroke him, memories of the night before flashing into his mind. Valen stops his ministrations and draws back, giving the elf a moment of reprieve.

The orc stands tall, towering above [N] as he reaches down, petting the elven lad’s head, and stroking his scalp with rough fingertips. Then with a nod, Valen gives him a command. [N] rises to his feet, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the palm of his hand.

"Come here, love," Valen commands quietly. [N] raises his head, looking up towards Valen, who bends down and grabs the strap of [N]'s loincloth from the floor. With a tenderness the elf isn't yet used to, he tethers the long fabric back onto [N], tying it securely.

This action alone sends a spark of fire through [N]'s body, and though the orc plays with him during the day, the harshest touches are nothing compared to Valen's soft caresses. Though there’s no ignoring Valen's rough nature, [N] find himself craving his affectionate side. And lately, he seems to be getting more of what he wants.

It doesn't help that [N] hasn't had any time to get accustomed to Valen's attention; every minute spent with his master is filled with either chores or pleasuring. There is very little left for [N] to do besides sleep, dream, and spend time with the orcs—but he can’t even find the time to do that, not with Valen’s demands needing to be met quickly. He watches the orc leave the kitchen, taking a deep, thoughtful breath before turning to the counter, and resuming with the breakfast. Today will likely go as all days do, serving under Valen, cleaning the house, running errands, and doing as Valen pleases until he makes his next demand.

In the center of the kitchen is a firepit, where he does most of the cooking, a large bowl sits over the fire, the smell of mutton filling the air. [N] throws in various spices and a few chopped vegetables, mixing everything with wooden paddles. Orcish meals mainly consist of meat, but the elven lad adds his own taste to them. He uses the opportunity to add fruits, herbs, roots, and mushrooms, along with bread, which he kneads each day with his own hands. Valen seems to be open-minded about their differing diets, bringing back items like cheese, rice, and fish, most of these ingredients are found in the surrounding mountains, but never in orcish shops.

Once [N] has finished stirring the meal, he sets it aside in an iron pot to simmer while he prepares his plate. He cracks a dragon egg into his stew and stirs the contents carefully to mix. As if by instinct, the dragon eggs' blue-tinted shell absorbs the reddish hue of the lamb stew, making both sides almost identical.

He takes his and Valen's dishes to the dining room upstairs, wincing at the light from the open windows. The curved and rounded walls are decorated with the Warlord's trophies and weapons, though [N]'s managed to add his own taste, placing vases of flowers on each surface, and greenery by the windows. He places the plates on the large, circular table, and two chairs next to each other. After returning to the kitchen and fetching some ale and bread, [N] settles onto his chair.

Dust catches the light of the open window, floating lazily to settle on the wood grain of the floor. He watches these particles swirl about before focusing on the ceiling, watching the sun stream in behind the roof and illuminate the hallways outside. 

The stairs leading to the dining room creaked, and Valen walked in, properly dressed for the day, a leather vest over his torso and trousers tucked tightly into his boots. His arms were adorned with many rings, and he wore a heavy chain wrapped around his waist. He plopped down beside [N], taking a hearty bite of his own food, humming in appreciation.

"Leave it to my lil' wife to feed me so well," Valen grins.

[N] smiles softly, head buzzing from the praise. The elven lad finds it odd how despite the rape and abuse the orc had inflected on him in the beginning, the two somehow manage to have such mundane and soft moments.

Breakfast goes on, though, a familiar hand pressed on [N]'s thigh, caressing his flesh. Soon enough, the orc approaches the end of his meal, and Valen tugs hard at the hem of the young elf's loincloth pulling [N] to stand. He nods once, already knowing whats to come.

With a wide smile, Valen pats [N] on his buttock and wordlessly  instructs him to strip off his clothes. Face warm, [N] undoes the binding of his loincloth, letting it fall from his hips and thighs, exposing his bare flesh to his master as Valen admires the elf's skin. Even after such harsh treatment from the orc, Valen never once refused him proper meals or warm baths, no matter how many bruises decorate [N]’s skin, he always has a healthy glow. Next, to come off was the cloth wrapped around his chest, pulled away, revealing his slight chest.

Valen walks around [N] and inspects the goods, running his fingers lightly over [N]'s belly before coming to rest against the underside of [N]'s right breast. He presses there with his finger, massaging the sensitive area slowly before leaning forward and biting gently into the nipple. It aches sharply but [N] remains silent, waiting patiently for Valen's actions to stop.

His heart races, pounding furiously in his chest. After a moment passes, he can feel Valen release the pressure from his nipples and pull away. However, Valen continues to stare at [N]'s chest, lifting the elven lad to the table, and moving the plates aside.

[N] gasps, feeling the orc's large hand spread his thighs apart, his soft lips spreading with them, causing [N] to shudder. Once again Valen studies the sight before him, his eyes roaming all over [N]'s body. The orc's eyes drifted back down to the elven lad's moist inner thighs. He looks up at [N]'s face, practically feeling the warmth they radiate, causing a short chuckle to escape him.

With great haste, Valen kneels down and pushes his mouth between [N]’s thighs, tasting the sweet nectar the eleven lad produces. The tip of his rough tongue licks up his slit, pressing between them to feel the smoothness of [N]'s bud, incircling it, tasting his own semen from last night as it dribbles out in small globs. The orc places a wet kiss directly atop [N]'s clit, and the elf shivers beneath his touch.

Guiltily, [N] has to admit he looks forward to mornings like this, where Valen's slimy tongue plays with between his legs, the orc's tusks pressing into the lad's inner thighs, forcing his legs further open with each stroke.

When Valen finally pulls his mouth away from [N]'s nethers, leaving his clit throbbing painfully, [N] lets out a low moan of pleasure as Valen's large finger presses against his entrance, probing just inside. Slowly he begins to push it deeper, stretching [N]'s hole until only half of the finger remains within. He draws back a short distance before repeating the same action. Each time he does so, [N] softly cries out as Valen penetrates him more deeply.

After five strokes, Valen stops abruptly and pulls the hand away, leaving [N] panting and shaking with need. [N] bites his lip to keep from making any sound; he knows Valen is getting ready to violate him again.

"Time for the real breakfast," the orc whispers, more to himself than [N]. He undoes the belt of his trousers, drawing forth his massive manhood from within, it's almost the size of the lad's thigh, so thick that it can't even hold itself when erect, instead requiring the orc’s assistance. Vien's bulge out around it, and [N]'s breath catches in his throat as he sees the orc's cock twitch and grow thicker under Valen's hands. He pumps it once, the foreskin sensually sliding across the bulbous head. Finally releasing his tool, Valen sets it at the base of [N]'s pelvis, lining up the shaft with [N]'s entrance. The elven lad softly throws his head back as it slides between his folds, aching for release as the orc’s precome decorates his thighs.

"Ya want me yer arse? Or that tight cunt of yers," the warlord teases, watching [N] drool over the sight of his cock. The head of his tool lowers further down and Valen lets out a low sigh, feeling [N]’s cheeks part at the size of his cock. This doesn’t go unnoticed by his little mate, who shudders at the thought. 

[N] bites his lower lip, raising his hips. "M-my arse.." he mumbles quietly.

His fingers grip at the soft cloth that covers the table, the head of the orc’s cock streatching past his spintcher with no hesitation whatsoever, making [N] cringe a little bit as it enters him completely. He holds back a pained moan, eyes fluttering rapidly as the orc's cock stretches him further, slipping halfway into the lad’s rectum. Yet another inch gone, [N] can tell Valen is enjoying himself immensely now, his breath is heavy and his eyes are trained on the way [N] envelopes him like a glove. Perhaps it is meant for this reason alone.

Valen's thumb generously yet roughly massages [N]'s clit as he pushes himself further into the elven lad's rectum, splitting him wide open with ease, eliciting squeals and moans from the lad as he gets used to Valen's monster prick stretching him wider, his walls desperately trying to hold on to their contents while Valen relentlessly drives himself deeper and harder into the elven lad’s bowels.

Within minutes, Valen is fully seated within [N]'s arse, and [N]'s entire body quakes violently, small tears running down his cheeks as a burning sensation settles into his stomach, causing involuntary jerking motions to occur deep within his core. As if sensing [N] discomfort, Valen's thumb increases its pace on the elven lad's bud, pressing down on it to even out the pain.

He moves his other hand around behind the elf, gripping tightly onto [N]s hip to steady himself as he thrusts into him. A few moments later, [N] finds himself holding his own buttocks apart for Valen, easing his discomfort. Yet the act of freely offering himself in such a vile manner causes [N] to shudder, his insides clenching reflexively around Valens enormous organ.

This does not go unnoticed by Valen.

"Loving this, aren't ya," he huffs, his voice gruff and thick with desire. "Aye, my love…" Valen growls lowly into [N]s ear before shifting his weight and bringing his hand down firmly upon [N]'s left shoulder. Almost immediately the elf feels Valens balls press into him as he drives himself deeper still, his movements becoming swift and deliberate now that he has gained some momentum. Soon enough he is slamming into [N] hard, driving his large member deep inside the elf's ass before pulling back out before pushing in again. Over and over again Valen pounds into [N]'s rear end, grunting with satisfaction as he watches the elf wince in pain or pleasure.

[N]'s eyes permanently roll inside of their sockets, feeling the orc's cock rapidly press against something deep inside him, sending waves of electric shocks throughout his nerves. He can feel every movement of the orc's muscles move through his spine, his hands clenched tightly at the cloth, his legs trembling beneath him as Valens cock plows repeatedly into his anus.

The steady and hard rhythm is nothing short of hypnotizing, all prior thoughts trickling out, the eleven lad isn't even sure he remembers his own name. All that matters is the sharp jabs of pain or blissful ecstasy that reverberate through his mind, pulsating down his body and triggering hidden reactions within. When he can think of anything else besides Valen's large cock plunging into his gut, [N] focuses solely on controlling these sensations, seeking to avoid injury at any cost.

"Mmnnhhh.." [N] whines softly when Valen leans close to whisper in his ears. His words vibrates along [N]s neck as he speaks low and husky in [N]s ear, using his free hand to rub a bruise on [N]'s wrist caused by his constant twisting about the room in order to get comfortable.

"Can you even understand me, lad?" A teasing laugh escapes Valen's mouth, his lips pressed close to [N]'s pointed ears. "You've been jabbering nothin’ but nonsense," Valens tone growing serious once more. He turns to look straight ahead, ignoring [N] for a brief second while he attempts to catch his breath, "I have to know what I'm doing right."

"Yes.. 's good," [N] replies lowley, hoping Valen won't notice how much he had to force the word through swollen lips. It hurts too much otherwise. "Be gentle... just a little.. please..." he adds submissively.

"I can't 'ere you, lad," the orc taunts, squeezing [N]'s shoulder tighter for emphasis. "If ya ain't gonna talk properly then don't bother." With those words, Valen picks up more speed, if that was even possible, a rhythmic smacking sound echoing through the dining area, soon joined by [N]'s gasps of pain interspersed with pleasurable moans.

He can feel it, feel the head of Valen's cock press against his stomach, causing a noticeable bulge on his skin, feel Valens cock pulse and swell within him, filling him entirely with each forceful plunge. Valen's hips begin to bounce in rhythm with his thrusts, pounding the lad's flesh mercilessly. Each impact sends jolts of searing agony and pleasure radiating downward, breaking [N] momentarily from whatever strange spell Valen's brutal sodomization has placed him under. He tries to speak again—but there's no air to fill his lungs with, his body shudders involuntarily as an orgasm rips through his system, warm liquids pouring out of his folds and onto Valen's thrusting cock, his insides tightening as his sensitive clit throbs uncontrollably.

Valen groans loudly, feeling the lad squeeze harshly as he orgasms and begins to rut into him, chasing his own pleasure, thrusting faster and deeper with each stroke. His arms slide over [N]s shoulders and chest, both of them gripped securely as Valen continues to hammer into him relentlessly, his loins writhing with lust and excitement as [N]'s inner muscles ripple and contract around his invading appendage.

The orc's moan echoes throughout the dining area, his seed erupting deep into [N]'s bowels, hot spurts jetting out of the orc's cock with ever-increasing intensity until [N] is completely filled by Valens semen. As he continues to chase his pleasure, his semen escapes [N]'s bowels, coating Valens groin in viscous fluids and the floor below them.

Moments later, his cock slowly slides from [N]’s abused hole, a stream of his semen eager to exit. Valen snorts as he watches the elven lad try to regain his breath, his hips still shaking.

“Don’t die on me, now,” he teases, taking him by the shoulders to sit up. A whine leaves his lips, his body unbelievably slack. Using his left hand to steady himself, [N] cringes as his fingers touch his plate, the cold mush that was once is breakfast between his fingernails.

[youareunbearable]

Headcannon that Celebrimbor and Thranduil were childhood Frenemies because I don't like how the Mirkwood Elves were left out of everything that happened so pls enjoy this fliclet

---

Once the Feanorians touched down in Hithlum, Thingol sent his younger brother's brother in law Oropher to be his ambassador. Oropher, of course, brings his son Thranduil along because this is a great chance for diplomatic training

Maedhros, this is during the time Morgoth is sending his own persistent ambassadors, thinks it would also be a great time to start Celebrimbor on diplomatic training, because before this he was just in the forge with Curufin and Feanor. And it doesn't look like the rest of the Sons of Feanor are going to have kids so he'll be inheriting the crown one day.

So Celebrimbor and Thranduil are pushed together on children "play dates"

They hate it, they always fight with each other and have competitions and as soon as they see each other they will throw down and scream new insults they learned since the last time they met. Sometimes they spent entire visits only speaking to each other in their own native tounges and mock the other for not properly understanding what they are saying. This particular game didn't last long, but Tyelpe did become the first of the Noldor to speak Sindarin fluently with no accent and Thranduil enjoys the annoyed tick in Galadriel's typical serene expression when she hears him speak flawless Quenya with a Feanorian lisp

Oropher is concerned, being the youngest of 4 he never had an antagonistic relationship with any of them. But Maglor (the new depressed Noldor High King) just gives a small smile and shrugs. He grew up with 6 brothers and even more half cousins. Little Tyelpe and Thrandy are just playing like boys and future best friends do

And they keep up this frenenimes relationship even after Curufin moves them to Himland. When it gets sacked during Dagor Bragollach and Curufin, Celegorm, and Celebrimbor all flee south to their cousins home, Thranduil sends them some relief supplies. When Celebrimbor disown his father, Thranduil comes to visit and generally be annoying until Celebrimbor can stop feeling like shit

When Thranduil, his parents, and their people leave eastward after Thingol's death but before the second Kinslaying (for Oropher is older then the Sun and Moon, he is not about to be led by a boy not even in his 30th year, Maiar blood or not, and many Sindar agree with him) Celebrimbor travels with them and secures them safe passage through the Blue Mountains.

They both grieve when they hear of the Second Kinslaying, then the Third, and then when the East sinks under the waves. Not many in Lindon support Celebrimbor wearing the eight pointed star again, but Thranduil just rolls his eyes and tells him red looks dreadful with his complexion

During the Second Age when Thranduil gets married, Celebrimbor is invited to the wedding and vis versa when Celebrimbor marries Narvi

(Both marriages involve lots of teasing over their partners of choice. Thranduil laughs over the fact that of course a Noldor would marry a Dwarf, they are basically the same, what with their love of rocks and metal work. Celebrimbor rolls his eyes and snorts that he's surprised Thranduil didn't end up marrying an Ent, what with his love of trees, but he supposes that marrying a lady named "tree maid" is close enough. What next? Will he name his children "sapling" or "twig" or "leaf"? Thranduil shoves him off his chair, spilling wine all over the table and floor and growls that at least his children will have original names, and not share a name with two of his forefathers like Men)

They visit each other a lot during the second age, and Thranduil tries to help him as best he can during the fallout of Narvi's death, and when Celebrimbor is designing his rings of Power with that suspicious Maiar of his (who Celebrimbor SWEARS is helping him craft to work through the grief he has no other intentions) he had Thranduil (or Oropher) in mind when he created Vilya

When Thranduil heard about what happened to his friend and his land during the War of Elves and Sauron he grieved deeply. The only thing he had to remember his friend by was some forgotten blueprints of unfinished jewelry, an Age worth of letters (mostly written in Quenya, he of course had replied in proper Sindarin), a clumsy eight pointed star he laughingly embroidered onto the breast of Thranduil's favourite robe, a set of Sindarin long knives overly embellished with Noldorian swirls, and a box of white gems Celebrimbor hand crafted and left with a promise to come back once he finished his rings and use them to make a matching crown set for Thranduil and his wife to wear whenever he inherited the crown

("There may be even enough left over for a third crown. For your 'little leaf' to grow into whenever you two get around making one." Thranduil's wife laughed with Celebrimbor and sent her husband a leer that set his ears ablaze and Tyelpe's laughter began anew)

And enough regrets to haunt him for Ages. It seemed like bad things always came in three. Celebrimbor, his father, his new homeland. Thranduil led his people north, away from everything he had loved, and kept what remained close to his chest. After his wife was slain shortly after the birth of his son, he refused to lose anyone else. Greenwood the Great began to mirror his grief and became Mirkwood

It was almost another another Age before he decided to commission the Dwarves of Erebor to turn those precious white gems into the crowns Celebrimbor intended. Not for him and his now dead wife, but maybe for Legolas and his future partner. (His little leaf, he could hear Celebrimbor's laughter every time Legolas calls himself "Legolas Greenleaf" with that cheeky grin of his) And if Celebrimbor couldn't make them himself, he would be happy to let his Dwarven friends do the job for him

Thranduil almost burned down the mountain himself when they withheld those gems and one of the last pieces of his dear friend from him

Under the bone deep fear of watching a dragon from his nightmares sack the kingdom, he was a little pleased. Jewel thieves get their due

(He knows that Celebrimbor never swore his grandfather's Oath, but sometimes late at night he wonders if he still carried the curse of it. If that Oath and the Curse of Feanor are the reason his dearest friend died that awful way he did)

It was the beginning of a forth age when those sparking white gems were finally turned into the crowns they were destined to be. And Thranduil could almost hear Celebrimbor's delighted laughter as he watched his only son and heir, his little leaf, marry a dwarf.

When it came time to sail, Thranduil stayed with his people, he has coveted them for so long he now refused to leave unless he was forced too. Legolas, who had somehow made a small boat that could barely withhold the waves of the Western Sea, was greeted with a welcoming and joyful embrace by the Elf he only heard stories about

"Hail Celebrimbor, Lord of Eregion, Crafter of the Rings Of Power, Husband of Narvi son of Vilarvi of Durin's Folk, and most importantly, the dearest friend of my father!" Legolas greeted in flawless Quenya with a very noticeable Feanorian lisp. The gathered crowd twitched a little and Elrond (who was hoping of news of his sons) gave a sigh. "I have much to say, and so does my husband Gimli, but first I must give you my father's message!"

Legolas cleared his throat, and then with mock superior expression, one that made him look just like Thranduil, he said: "Celebrimbor you Spider Spawn of the Shadow, if you worked on my crown instead of those thrice damned Rings like you said, my son would never have married a Dwarf. Once I am reborn you better start running because I am going to burry you in my forest and chop down the tree you become with my anger alone!"

There was a startled gasp of silence on the shores of Valinor, before Celebrimbor burst into peels of joyful laughter. Legolas smiled at his honorary uncle and laughed with him

"As you can see, father missed you very much"

[deathoverdignity]

The Rings of Power has better parts than others but broadly is….meh.

Best parts by far is the Harfoots/Hobbit storyline, even with the GODDAWFUL Irish accents. The two actresses playing the Harfoot children are absolute delights & bring so much charm. Would like 80% more hobbits, 80% less Galadriel.

I’m presuming the dirty meteor man is Gandalf & an interesting origin story of both him & his life long love of Hobbits.

Gandalf: *holds up hobbits*

Speaking of Galadriel, her character is so far (as of episode 2) extremely one dimensional & unlikelable. This is the case for almost all the elves with the exception of Elrond and broadly speaking I’ve come close to wanting to skip past some of their sections. Hoping things will improve. Why does she act like a 14 year old edgelord?

Same with the human/elf stuff. I felt they had the makings of an interesting storyline on the potential class conflict between the Elves/Humans and the difficulties of relating to immortal arrogant beings with such self appointed power over mortals. They decided to tease a very cringe potential romance instead. We’ll see if it develops as I acknowledge it’s early days.

The Elrond/Dwarves storyline is also great, i of course wish they weren’t complete cowards and gave the Dwarven women their beautiful luscious beards they deserve but the actors are great & the dynamic between Durin & Elrond is very enjoyable.

Elrond: oh wow, it’s only been 20 years? Golly gosh, time sure does fly, well done on all the charming infrastructure development, you people sure have a lot of gumption :D

Durin: ….😒😒😒 You’ve literally missed the majority of my key life events you prick 😤

They obviously did my beloved Celebrimbor dirty in terms of looks, an attempt to forestall potential Sauron/Annatar shipping in the future is my guess. The actor himself is great though.

Celebrimbor: My one desire is to do something innovative & useful & move away from silly trinkets & what not. Yes, it’ll take an army worth of elves to fulfil my plans and Gil Galad sent me… you Elrond. Just…just you. *clenches teeth*

Elrond: :D

All in all, it isn’t as awful as people are making it out to be. It’s a solid mediocre with potential for growth with some strong elements that could be very good if given focus and weight. Worth a watch so long as you don’t over think it.

[fatale-distraction]

happy friday!! For dadwc, could I request Dalish x Skinner + "This is why the Maker left.”?

Okay, this one is going to the top of the list, 'cause I love these girls so much.

Here's some cute sexy times, followed by drunk Charger shenanigans for @dadrunkwriting

They had only been gone for...Dalish licked her finger and put it in the air. Ten minutes.

Ten minutes.

The Chargers had just returned from a mission that afternoon, and given the rare opportunity of a few days rest until the next assignment. Everyone had bathed, eaten, put on fresh clothes, and gathered up at the Herald's Rest for a night of celebratory over-indulgence. A typical scenario for their group. The boss had been pre-gaming with the 'Vint mage, and Krem had run off somewhere with the little Inquisitor, emerging suspiciously from the hayloft an hour later with mussed hair and red cheeks before joining the rest. By then, Skinner had already quaffed quite a few tankards. Dalish, on the other hand, was taking it easy. She didn't relish spending her first solid day off in a while with her head in the chamber pot.

Then Skinner had started giving her The Eyes.

The Eyes didn't appear all that different from her usual stoic, grouchy demeanor. It was only because they knew each other so intimately that Dalish could even detect the slight narrowing of the other woman's eyelids, the slight lift in her dark brows, the tilt of her chin, and the softening of her jaw. She tossed her partner a knowing smirk and toyed with her foot under the table.

"Dalish, that's my foot," Krem informed her helpfully. Stitches snorted so hard he started coughing up beer.

"Sorry there, lovely," she said, winking his direction. Krem wasn't terribly easy to make blush, but she did so enjoy it when it happened.

A few moments later had found Skinner on her feet, dragging the taller woman bodily out into the icy night air with all the subtlety of a slap to the face. She threw the "archer" up against the stable wall and pressed their bodies close. Lips met hungrily, and her tongue tasted like spiced ale and burnt elfroot. Dalish moaned with the longing of two entire hours of behaving themselves, spurring her partner on. Skinner yanked at the taller woman's hair, tilting her head for better access to her pale, unblemished neck, intent on blemishing it lavishly.

Once they had sufficiently made a moaning, wanton spectacle of themselves in the courtyard, the two women began heading back toward the tavern. It was noisy as usual, but in a distinctly suspicious way. There was cheering, and laughing, and chanting. They exchanged a glance, quickening their steps. Skinner shoved the door open and snarled at the crowd of people blocking their view. Like curtains, the crowd parted for her.

Rocky was, somehow, hanging from the chandelier by the back of his shirt, singing a dwarven drinking diddy, and Krem and The Iron Bull were tossing horseshoes at him, trying to get them around each of his feet. Grim appeared to be keeping score, while Stitches lingered nearby with his first aid kit at the ready, a resigned look on his tired face.

Skinner turned and looked up at her girlfriend with a bland expression.

"This is why the Maker left," she said in her thick accent.

[thequeenofmyownscreen]

Twelve things I noted about CR2E75 “Rime and Reason” and the Talks Machina about it :

Mica, after Sam in the ad presented fake items that "will be included in the store - nope not really" including a silver cock square ring : "Can I go home now ?"

Liam is not there and unable to connect, so Marisha's piloting Caleb, and attempting to take the accent (she just does an hilarious and bad rendition of a Northern European accent - like... 'the guy who owns the sauna in Frozen' bad). "Matt is horrified", says Mica, who hasn't watched Campaign 1 and didn't know Marisha's infamous "dwarven accent". I'm so happy. And throughout the episode, Sam just takes great pleasure to annoy Marisha as she's playing Caleb. A true friend.

Marisha : "Oh yeah, before going to sleep, Liam has like eight things he wants to do." Matt, lightly sarcastic : "Of course he does. What is it ?"

Oh, I LOVED Caduceus and Fjord's talk. Especially this phrase : "What do you think this is? All of us, me, here, you, here, these people... this is intervention. Eventually, some day, somebody will pray for a miracle, pray for something to save them, to whatever gods are nearby, and that prayer will be answered because you'll show up. That's how it works. That's what a champion is." Also I love how Taliesin and Matt siltently communicated with their eyes while Caduceus was asking the Wildmother ; I think they have similar ideas on faith and that helps.

They really did it. They put together a "Best-off of the critters' insults thrown at Brian during Travis Willingham's Yeehaw Game Ranch". Amazing. And it made me want to watch the second season in one go, but I will wait further to see all of it in 2 days like I did last time.

Marisha, as Caleb, not even trying the accent anymore : "I can also send in my shitty cat, Frumpkin, that fucking fails at everything." Nott : "Caleb, that's your cat !" Marisha, as Caleb, trying and failing the accent : " Oh, sorry... love him so much..."

ANCIENT WHITE DRAGON ? oh no. They're fucked !! But I love dragons so much, and I really miss them, especially with Matt making them fucking terrifying. The start of the Chroma Conclave arc was one of the best scenes that ever happened.

They really made some good plans this episode. First with the yetis, and now with the dragon. It went well first, too ! Despite the dragon seizing the spider queen and the mithril, the dragon had breathed on it, and so the mithril changed or started to. Also the dragon did not see any of them and no one was hurt, that's a victory. The second part was more difficult, but I think they were very clever.

I just love that from the POV of the guys... they're chilling, down in the tunnel, in the dome... while the ladies of the Chaos Crew and Reani are up there on a stealth missions... and suddenly they hear a noise ! Are those the bottle rockets that Beau bought in Hupperdook so long ago ? It sure is ! OH NO FUCK THE OWL AND BEAU AND THE DRAGON

I think in a weird way it was "good" that Liam wasn't there - though I love him, he is a man of action, even with Caleb being support, and I'm not sure Caleb would have stayed in the dome if Liam had played him. But Marisha did (also just the fact that she had to play 2 characters facilitated her choice to put Caleb in the dome, I think). And thank god for that, because otherwise, they were dead.

This episode of Talks is wonderful, because of the very antagonistic way that Mica is goign after Brian's job. I love their dynamic !

Oh, so Marisha the deductive genius once again was right, Gelidon was a dragon scorned !! By none other than Vorugal !!

[the-punslinger]

Exandria Unlimited Quotes and Memorable Moments - Series 1 (5/?)

Poska: "Not til tomorrow, for what it's worth. But. Seeing as you are not the people we thought we would be dealing with. Maybe we can come to some sort of arrangement, and we don't need to come to blows. It's all a bit messy." Dariax: "I missed half that, I'm sorry." Poska: "Oh my god. What is his deal? I can't tell if he's... what?" Dariax: "I was going to say something cool, and I forgot what it was, but it was going to be threatening.” Poska: "Yeah." Dariax: "And you should be feeling real bad about it now.

Poska: "But what will you do for me in return?" Opal: "I mean..." Orym: "Not bring you to the city guard right now." Poska: "Hm, you're not going to do that." Orym: "We're not?" Poska: "No." Dorian: "We might." Opal: 'We'll do it. [yells] 'CITY GUARDS!' My voice carries." Dariax: "That... she means business." Fearne: "When she yells things, things appear." Orym: "I hope this is the thing that shows up finally."

Orym: "I'm talking about information, or... you seem to have a philosophy in life." Poska: "Mm-hmm." Orym: "Give you a chance to prove it to us." Dariax: "Maybe a really cool hat." Poska: "Information and a very nice hat."

Fearne: "Hmm. Wait, why did... She sniffed you [Dorian] and said that... I don't know." Dariax: "Said you're money, which is ridiculous. You're, like, a blue person."

Dariax: "Look, I speak for all of us and that's a big responsibility. I wouldn't put that upon you if I didn't care about you." Orym: "You met me a week ago and we don't remember six of those seven days." Dariax: "That's most of my friendships, though. So it's not a big deal to me."

Fearne: "Stick together, birds of a feather." Dorian: "Another saying?" Fearne: "Just another one."

Orym: "I'm going to try to carry more stuff than would make me visible behind it." Aabria: "That's actually kind of amazing." Fearne: "Okay, I'll grab that. 'Oh, I'm so excited to cook on this ship! That I got hired to cook! I love cooking! I can't wait to take care of the sailors.'" Aabria: "I hate you so much. Okay! Performance with advantage because you found food." Dariax: "Many ships sink into the ocean, the great Ozmit swallows them without the proper journey blessing. And as such, my job is to come and ensure that the proper deific eyes are upon the deck." Fearne [Cockney accent]: "He's kept us alive! Many times I almost died if it wasn't for him."

Orym: "Like an entrance to the hold?" Dariax: "Yeah, that works, too." Opal: "Do the accent again." Fearne [Cockney accent]: "Is there a boat door? You opened the boat door." Aabria: "I don't know why "boat door" is funniest thing I've ever heard." Opal: "There has to be an official term, we just don't know it." Dariax: "Well, Dariax doesn't know it." Opal: "Yeah, no, neither do I."

Aabria: "You land with some style. No one sees it. It's dark down here." Dariax: "No, but I cast Light on myself as I land." Opal: "Nice.

Aabria: "Now, Light is a cantrip, so there's no roll associated. However, I need you to make an arcana check." Dariax: "You got it." Orym: "Strong dwarven thighs." Dorian: "Yeah, right." Opal: "Low center of gravity." Dariax: "That was my nickname in high school. Ah, 17." Orym: "Thighs." Aabria: "Yeah, with a 17." Orym: "The thighs have it." Aabria: "You all get a little flash of dwarven quad..." Fearne: "Okay!"

Aabria: "What'd you do?" Fearne: "I just walk down the stairs." Aabria: "You hear the clip clop of her faun hooves as they slide across the stair before she takes a step and finds her footing, like a mountain goat, as you make your way down the stairs and get to the group."

[naiatabris]

ZevWarden Week Day 5: Jealousy

We're back in the Charity Case AU today! It's Tabris family cookout time. Nosy neighbors, meeting the parents, an unexpected ex ... what could go wrong?

_____________________

Zevran did not know what to expect from a Tabris family cookout. He had assumed, of course, that Naia’s younger cousins Soris and Shianni would be there, along with their parents; he supposed that there were probably aunts and uncles and cousins he had not met as well.

But apparently Cyrion and Adaia Tabris had a more expansive definition of “family” than he had realized.

Naia’s parents had filled their small backyard with seemingly every neighbor they could fit. Elves of all shapes and sizes—even a handful of humans and a dwarven couple—were milling around picnic tables and coolers, laughing and chatting. Small children wove their way through this crowd, blowing bubbles and racing one another and pausing for hugs from loved ones.

It was utter chaos. And that was before anyone saw Naia.

“Naia! Honey! Is this the new boyfriend?” An elven woman with Naia’s bright smile and warm umber skin came over to wrap Naia in a hug.

“Mom, this is Zevran.” Naia linked her arm through his and grinned proudly. “Zevran, this is my mother, Adaia.”

Zevran extended his hand and prepared to say something about where Naia had gotten her good looks. But he had scarcely placed his hand in Adaia’s before it felt like the entire party pounced on them.

“Naia! It’s so good to see you!”

“Naia, did I hear that this is your boyfriend?”

“You never bring guys to these things!”

“What happened to that shemlen you work with? Did you break up with him, too?”

Naia shot Zevran a long-suffering, see-what-I-meant look. She began with the last question, addressing herself to a slender, grey-haired woman with fair skin and a friendly expression. “Alistair and I have never dated, Dilwyn. For the millionth time, we’re just friends.” She reached for Zev’s hand. “This is Zevran, we’ve been dating about a month, and please don’t scare him off.”

Zevran aimed his most charming smile at the little crowd. “A pleasure to meet everyone.” Under normal circumstances, he would have reached for a compliment, perhaps something even a bit flirtatious. But with so many people looking at him with naked curiosity on their faces, it was difficult to know where to begin.

“Where are you from, Zevran?”

“Are your parents in Denerim too?”

“Zevran—is that an Antivan name?”

Zevran felt his breath catch awkwardly. “I—no.” He almost explained that his parents had passed away when he was small, but that information tended to have a dampening effect on peoples’ moods. “I have only been in Denerim a short time. And yes, I am Antivan.”

“Oh my god, Naia, that accent,” he heard one of the younger women whisper enviously.

Perhaps sensing that all of this was becoming a bit much, Naia began to pull Zev towards the back door. “I need to find my dad,” she told the crowd. “We’ll catch up soon!”

Naia led him through the back screen door of the family’s home, which opened right into a bright, well-worn kitchen. It was not a large space, but the scarred yellow countertops and slightly uneven white cabinet doors spoke of years of family dinners, of many parties just like this one. A photograph of Naia at her college graduation was held to the fridge with a large Denerim State magnet.

Two men stood inside the kitchen. One was obviously Cyrion Tabris; he was a white-haired man in his late fifties with a slight sunburn on his pale skin. He was wearing an apron that said “Kiss the Cook” and loading hamburgers and hot dogs onto a tray, clearly intending to take them to the grill outside. A tall, blonde elf around Naia’s age was standing next to the refrigerator, emptying a large bag of ice into a plastic bin. The two of them were laughing at some joke Cyrion had just told, and did not seem to have heard Naia and Zevran enter.

Naia stiffened in surprise. “Dad—and Nelaros?”

Cyrion was the first to greet her. He turned and wrapped Naia in his arms, kissing the top of her head. “Hello, darling girl!”

“Da-aad,” Naia grumbled—though she did not pull away.

When the hug ended, the young man raised his hand in greeting. “Hey, Naia. Good to see you.”

“You too, Nel.” Naia smiled at him. “It’s been a while! Did you move back from Highever?”

“I’m just visiting family,” he replied. “And you know my parents, they never miss a Tabris party.” He seemed a bit sheepish, as if he thought his presence required an implied apology.

“Well, uh, welcome back. I hope it’s a great visit.” Naia swallowed. “Dad. Nelaros. This is Zevran Arainai.”

“A pleasure.” Zevran offered his hand to Cyrion first. “Thank you again for your assistance last week.”

“Happy to help,” Cyrion said cheerfully. “Glad someone is spoiling my little girl. She has a hard time letting people take care of her.” This, said with a pointed eyebrow raise directed at his daughter. "Right, Nelaros?"

“Maker’s fucking butt, Dad,” Naia muttered under her breath as her cheeks turned red.

“And you, Nelaros? Are you another member of the delightful Tabris clan?” Zevran asked.

“Just a family friend,” the other man said after a slightly awkward pause. “Hey, nice to meet you, but I’d better get this ice outside before Adaia kicks my ass.”

“And I’d better get these on the grill.” Cyrion gave his daughter a kiss on the cheek. “Come find me in a minute, you two. I’ll need to know how Zevran likes his burger.”

Zevran stepped back to hold the door open for the two men. Once they were in the backyard, he let it swing shut, since Naia didn’t seem to want to follow. Instead, she was banging her head lightly against the refrigerator.

“I’m sorry, Zev. I didn’t know Nelaros was going to be here. I would have warned you. He’s—he’s my ex-boyfriend.”

Zevran’s brows drew together in puzzlement. “It is no trouble. He does not seem the type to cause a scene, no?”

“He’s not.” Naia let out a long breath. “It’s just—I know this is a lot. Everyone asking you questions. People still thinking I’m dating Alistair. My dad cracking jokes with my ex. I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize.” The harsh tone in his own voice took Zev by surprise. “Never apologize for what you have here, Naia. For having so many people who care about you. I would have given a great deal for something similar.”

Naia swallowed and looked down at her feet. “You’re right. I know I’m lucky.”

But Zevran could sense her discomfort nonetheless, and it baffled him. Naia was usually so confident, so easy with people. Why was she hiding away from a party at this, of all places?

“The questions do not distress me. But—do they upset you?”

Naia raised her head and let out a long breath. “The questions are fine. People still thinking I’m dating Alistair has gotten really old. But—the awkward part is Nelaros."

A dark suspicion began to bubble in Zevran's mind. "Was he unkind to you?"

"No. Definitely not." Naia looked through the window to the backyard, where at least a few curious guests were peering into the kitchen. She sighed. "You know what, let's go somewhere more private. It's kind of a long story."

They moved into the Tabris family's den and settled together on an overstuffed sofa. More family photos decorated the wood-paneled walls—of Cyrion receiving some sort of award from his job, of Naia at a high school soccer game, of Adaia clad in hiking boots and standing atop a mountain. Zevran felt an odd twist in his chest as he contemplated his own sad, thin collection of family photos—three of his mother, none of the man who'd fathered him, and few of him as a child or teenager.

Naia cleared her throat and continued the story. "You know I don't usually do, uh, serious relationships. Nelaros was the exception," she explained, rubbing her left thumb against her right thumbnail in a familiar nervous gesture. "We got together in high school, dated through most of college. My parents loved him. My cousins loved him. Random neighbors would ask us when we were going to get married. But—I realized I didn’t feel that way about him. That forever-and-ever way. So I broke up with him.”

Zevran nodded. He felt a most unusual surge of—something—as he listened to Naia’s story. A curious sense of relief that Nelaros had not been the right man for her, that she had been very much single when he moved into the apartment next to hers.

But Naia was not done with the story. “Nelaros was decent about it, but I really hurt him. And this is a tight-knit neighborhood, in case you couldn’t tell. So for a long time, every time I came home I got to feel like a monster for breaking his heart. There was even a rumor that I’d dumped him for Alistair, which couldn’t have been further from the truth.” She scowled. “And boy, did people like to tell me what a huge mistake I’d made. It’s been six years and people still casually ask me if I’ve seen Nel lately.”

Zevran did not know what to say in reply. He did, however, feel an absurd surge of jealousy for Nelaros. Naia clearly did not welcome the meddling—not should she—but any man her community deemed worthy of her had to be a good man.

And Zev was not under any illusions about the kind of man he was.

“Do you think it was a mistake?” Do you think I am a mistake?

“No.” Naia’s answer was immediate and firm. “Like I said, he’s a sweet guy. But we weren’t right for each other.” She cleared her throat. “And, um, I’m kind of crazy about you. I have a hard time saying stuff like that, but … seemed like you should maybe know.”

Zevran leaned forward and kissed her—only once, but firmly, passionately, a promise of things to come when they had more privacy. “And you are splendid, Naia Tabris, and I am very fortunate to be here with you.” He winked. “Perhaps we could put some of those tiresome queries to rest if I put my hand in your back pocket and murmur inappropriate things in your ear for the rest of the afternoon?”

Naia laughed. “You know what, it’s worth a try.” She squeezed his hand. “Thanks, Zev.”

He stood up and tugged her hand to pull her with him. "Let's go find your father. I believe he promised us hamburgers."

[lavalampelfchild]

And finally some dwarves!!  Here are all of my dwarf Wardens.  From left to right:  Leofalda Kader, Gundhram Aeducan, and Tristan Brosca. 

Leofalda Kader - My canon Kader Warden who accompanies my Caron and Andras OCs to Amaranthine after the Fifth Blight is defeated.  She is skilled with dual-wielding multiple kinds of weapons, and has picked up some bardic skills from her time in Val Royeaux in particular, though she isn’t a bard herself.  Born in Orzammar Leofalda left for the Surface when she was still a young child, sneaking out with the help of a group of dwarven scholars who were studying the Deep Roads.  At Gherlen’s Pass, instead of going east to Ferelden, she chose instead to go west to Orlais, and very quickly managed to build up the necessary survival skills to keep herself alive, including learning the Orlesian language and perfectly mimicking a native Orlesian accent.  She chose the tattoo on her forehead both in defiance of her brand, and to take advantage of Orlesian nobles’ tendency to underestimate those things which they see as “foreign,” including dwarves.  She joined the Wardens shortly before the start of the Fifth Blight, welcomed for her skills in stealth, striking from the shadows, and resourcefulness.  She claims that the reason she never became a fully-fledged bard is because her singing voice is too horrible to make the cut, but no one has ever actually heard her sing.

Gundhram Aeducan - My canon Aeducan who ends up exiled in the Deep Roads, where Duncan and his Wardens find and recruit him.  Gundhram is a skilled commander and tactician, and is very skilled with two-handed large weapons (particularly axes).  Born in Orzammar, the second son of King Endrin and his favored consort, Herja, Gundhram has always known a life of privilege and luxury.  He hasn’t thought his brothers were so suspicious of him or each other, however, and wasn’t able to predict Trian hiring mercenaries to kill him, or Bhelen killing Trian and then framing him for it.  Devastated by this turn of events, and the loss of his family and the life he had known, Gundhram willingly joined the Wardens.  The version of him above is before he was exiled, as Orzammar tradition states that when a casted dwarf is exiled, they lose their braids and have their hair and beard shaved/cut.  Unflappable on the battlefield, and experienced with leading soldiers and warriors, Gundhram steps up after Duncan’s death as the de facto leader of the Wardens.  

Tristan Brosca - My canon Brosca who joins the Wardens willingly to escape life in Dust Town.  Tristan’s weapon of choice is his bow, which is unusual for lowly Carta thugs to have, as crossbows are much easier to wield and much cheaper to buy in bulk.  But Tristan received this bow from his mother as a young pre-teen, and has kept it with him because it’s the only thing of his absent father that he has.  While skilled with a bow, Tristan can also turn virtually anything into a weapon if he has to.  Tristan is only really close to his sister, Rica, and close friend, Leske, and does not extend his trust to anyone else.  Having worked for Beraht since he was just out of childhood - and having been looked down on and left at the lower end of the Carta totem pole - Tristan has learned that words are cheap, and actions, while more expensive, are just as easy to turn around on someone.  Tristan’s main goal is to get his family and himself out of Dust Town, and for that reason, he jumps on the opportunity to join the Wardens (once he receives encouragement from both Leske and Rica, though).  The braids Tristan wears in his beard were given to him by his sister, who made up her own version of family braids for the Brosca family to share.

And there are the dwarves!  I absolutely have more dwarf OCs to get to, but for now, I’m sticking with the “in-game protagonist” theme.  Leofalda’s dwarf scholar helpers are most likely going to get some faces at some point, and I would love to sketch them out when that happens.

[larsisfrommars]

Rewatching Campaign Two: Curious Beginnings

Oh not even a “WE PlaY DuNgEoNs & DrAgOns!!” Yet.

Wow, I forgot how heavy Nott’s accent used to be and how light Caleb’s was. Headcanon he was still using a lot of Zemnian. Also everyone’s reaction to Jester’s voice is wonderful! Lol

Man the over and underhamming the accents is so weird! I am so ready to be violently reminded what a dick Beau was lmao

Awwwww Fjord has always had that lawful good streak in him even if it waited a bit mid-campaign, I love it. Laura having to train herself out of Vex’s greed lmao.

JESTER lmfao, she was SO rude! I love her good god, I find it so goddamn funny that Caleb ended up being sweet on her when the first thing she basically said to him was “my dude, you smell like ass. 😄💕” Beau clearly already has a crush Lmao. I forgot how early the whole “entire top table has a crush on Jester” thing started XD

Sam pretending to not know he knows Halfling, well played.

Caleb accidentally over sharing 😂😂😂 that is fucking wonderful, and low-key in character lol, nervous as hell lmao.

Every fan artist immediately deciding “a bit taller than the average lass” meant fMUCKING H U G E is so Good.

M O L L Y !!!!! Molly was so… himself lmao, if only they knew! Man. Immediately charming the shit out of Jester.

Listen I know how tarot works, but at the SAME time, THE FORGE (Fjorester? The Star Razor?!), snake in the future, could be Uka’toa or the fact that Molly/Lucien has a serpent tattoo. Yoooo tarot can be so cool lol. Jester does it even better though, because she did it at random and you didn’t have to bend ANYTHING about what cards she pulled to make it fit.

“I AM A VESSEL FOR HIGHER POWERS” *draws the eye card* EXCUSE ME

Ah yes, the birth of Beauyasha lmao “wow… she was awesome.” Lmao. Nott trying to chat Caleb up, Travis/Fjord’s immediate repulse at Frumpkin for being cat god XD. “I USE THAUMATURGY TO OPEN ALL THE WINDOWS” legendary! Low key forgot Beau was a cat person lmao.

“I’m sticking with this accent for the next two years” and then he didn’t. Lol

Caleb getting excited by books is so wholesome given the context of what we learn about him. 😊

THE CIRCUS IS ✨HERE ✨

Molly and that farmer, bruhhh go see a physician lol. Maaaan Yasha used to be grumpyyyyy lmao. Bo vs Beau! Lol Beau is so fucking awkward lmao I love her, reminds me of middle school lmfao. Ooof that little casual “hahaaaaaa my parents traumatized me” side comment, what a MOOD!

God I MISSED Molly and Beau’s sass fest SO MUCH!!! Holy moly! They were so funny “are you patronizing me Mollymauk?” “No I was hoping you’d patronize us!” I misssssss themmmmm

SWORD OF FATHOMS IS HERE REEEEEEEEEE

OH! Molly thought Jester was a follower of The Moonweaver with those cards and was trying to keep it on the down low!!! I JUST picked up on that!! WOW! :D

Early Beau is a fuckboi mode ACTIVATE, Yasha being coy tho lmao. Molly knows what Yasha’s hugs are like for sure.

Gustav’s talk of imagination is so interesting given how everything turns out. “Making one whole out of two bodies” or two souls from one body. The fire! The beasts of Xhorhas! These themes that carry through the whole campaign HOW!? EVEN?!!

Man this campaign could’ve been SO different if anyone died super early on! Lol Sam actively murderering Scanlan lmfao.

First ever POP POP! Woo! Lol Tal saying “shot” way back in early days like he’s still percy! Lol. First TRAVELER mention. First I Would Like To Rage!! My babies!

God the sass continues, I can’t believe how much I missed this dynamic.

BEAU gets the first HDYWTDT of the campaign! I forgot! Awesome!!

Even in a fantasy world the cops suck! Jester bamboozled that crownsguard lmaoooo

Wow lol leave it to this party to be like “it definitely wasn’t the frog demon it was the DWARVEN CHILD of course it was!!” Lmao. I love these idiots, so much.

Why did they let BEAU talk to the cop?! Whyyyyyyyyyy. Can’t wait for Fjord and Caleb to start really doing the Charisma checks. I love Beau, but she is not high Charisma.

FAKE NAMES HERE WE GO! Shirley, Temple, Caleb, Beau, Beau (Fjord), Mary, lmfao. Molly glaring daggers at the thought Yasha ratting out Toya was a neat touch. First Cerberus Assembly reference 😬

Yasha ghosts the partyyyyyyy for the first time ever! Lmao!

WOW these cops SUCK, “you need to show us you’re not guilty but your not allowed to leave the inn” w h a t?!