#oc: elera orrick

[evangeline444]

4, 7, 11 for Lark

4. A letter from your OC to their love interest

[A letter found tucked into Melittas bedroll. It smells of fresh herbs and contains a pouch of healing salves and a single white falcon feather speckled with black.]

My love,

I hope this letter reaches you safely as I was unsure of where to send it until I wrote to Rion inquiring about your whereabouts. As frustrated as I am that I have not heard from you in so long, I am proud of the work you have been doing. I must remind you however that you do not often travel with a healer and as skilled as you are in magic, you are far from mastering healing. And if I know you—which I do—I know that you have been neglecting to care for your body properly so I have enclosed a few herbs and a poultice that should help with low Iron levels.

I ask that you write me back soon, I tire of hearing second hand of your adventures and I tire more so of having to hunt you down to find out how you are doing. I will not hesitate to ask that Rion keeps tabs on you if I must.

I do hope you are enjoying yourself, though I worry for you often. I have been kept incredibly busy between handling the transition of the Mage Rebellion and helping the Inquisitor. And of course there is no shortage of people in need of healing.

I understand we may see each other soon due to the Exalted Council. I would like to have a moment alone with you and Sammael if possible. I am considering joining Sammael as he travels with the Chargers for a bit, I feel I have been neglecting my skills as a battlemage for too long. I can only hope that I can still keep uo with them in my old age. Perhaps if you are agreeable to it you could join us as well, I have missed traveling with you and Sammael dearly.

Eljin seems to like the idea of seeing you again. She is perched at the head of my desk, pecking at my pen, She misses you and Sammael—though not as much as I of course,

Please write to me soon, I miss you (fiery temper and all) Until next we meet, for the love of the maker stay safe.

All my Heart,

Lark

7. Someone describing a time your OC hurt them

[A letter written by an unknown templar in Hasmal circle]

Don’t be a fool. The healer is a threat to us all. You were not there when he killed both the knight enchanter and one of the other templar recruits. He was wild with rage. He tore through our ranks like we were little more than toy soldiers. Nothing and no one could stop him. I was foolish to have believed I could stand against him simply because he was a healer. The scars littering my body and the near constant ache in my sword arm will remind me of that mistake for as long as I live. Keep that in mind before you consider joining the Knight Commander’s fools errand to hunt him down. I say just let him go, it will do us no good to die chasing him down.

11. Your OC’s description of their game’s events

[An entry from a journal found on Senior Enchanter Orricks desk in the infirmary.]

My dearest Nyra,

It has been some time since I last managed to write to you. Much has happened in the last few weeks. Truth be told I have had scarcely a moment to myself to think too much on what has transpired.

Haven is gone. Templars dawning red lyrium stormed our gates and overwhelmed us. The Herald--or rather the Inquisitor-- he risked his life to save everyone and nearly died in the process.

He is so young, Nyra. Only a few years older than little Elera would have been. He reminds me of her often. I think they would have gotten along and you would have adored him.

He is healing slowly but his duties never cease. It is clear to me he is exhausted and over worked. I only wish someone would listen when I attempt to impress upon them how important a smooth recovery is for him. But they all seem content to demand the world of a boy far too young to carry so much on his shoulders.

He already carries such guilt for the lives we lost at Haven. And I cannot deny that I too feel such guilt. We lost many in the encounter and we lose more each day due to insufficient space and lack of proper supplies. Even my healing can only do so much when I do not have the time to replenish my mana.

I have taken to sleeping in the infirmary they have set up for me and my patients. It is little more than a broom closet but I suppose it is better than nothing, at least for now. I struggle to sleep in a proper bed when I do not have you at my side and the need for a healer seems to be constant so it works best for all parties if I remain near.

[The entry stops abruptly as if the writers focus was pulled away and he simply forgot to continue]

Also including some other codexs a wrote a while back for funsies, mostly involving the circle Lark comes from in the Free Marches.

[I had heard about the Rebellion of Hasmal’s circle. I’m told it was a brutal stand off between the vigilant Templars and the rebelling mages. The Knight Commander of CoveaHold lost several good men in the battle and was severely injured, nearly losing his own life in the confrontation. By the time the rebellion was put down even the First Enchanter had been killed in the struggle, by a fellow mage no less. Supposedly the one who led the rebellion was a Senior Enchanter, the Healer of Coveahold. It is hard to believe a healer would easily kill so many, though of course what can be expected of a mage. -statement from an unnamed man in Hasmal village, 9:33 Dragon]

[It is said that Hasmal’s circle is one of the lucky ones. Perhaps this was true at one time, now it is a rotting dying thing. The mages here know it only as CaveaHold. I hear the people of the Free Marches call it the Bird Cage of Hasmal. Perhaps they are right. We mages are nothing more than pretty songbirds with clipped wings here. We sit in this crumbling tower, this dying tower, waiting for what? There is nothing waiting for us here. Our only hope… my only hope is to die so they may never clip my wings -a journal entry from an unnamed mage, 9:22 Dragon]

[just-call-me-angel]

Wip Wednesday!

Not me actually posting a wip without any prompting....love this for me

Anyways please enjoy this short snip from a fic im working on for my dragon age oc, Lark Orrick. The fic will explore his time in the inquisition as well as some of his past and what it means for him to be a healer.

He thinks of his wife and daughter more often than not. Certainly far more often than he’d like.

Her infectious laughter and the brush of her lashes against his cheek as she curled against him on a cold morning.

Or how small Elera had looked when she was born, how worried he had been for her in that first year and how her bright little smile had always seemed to make his worries disappear.

The infirmary doesn’t allow him much time to think–no time to grieve or mourn–there's enough for his patients to worry about as it is.

So he leaves his grief at the door, rolls his sleeves up and gets to work.

Tagging @k9rage , @quitecontrarycherry , @merrybandofmurderers and anyone who wishes to join 👍