#only some of them being unsavory and about taash harding and this gal

[invinciblerodent]

woke up very in my feelings after talking just a little bit about this girl last night actually

there is something so compelling to me about the idea of an Orzammar-born dwarf who, instead of confusion and apprehension (which also compels me so so much), took in the surface with sheer wonder. someone who spent their formative years hidden away under a rock, staring at the walls, and then as an adult took to open sea and open sky, and found that it moves something in them, then yearns never to be confined again.

.... anyway so I've decided that she indeed does write profoundly horny sapphic poetry, but most of it is, in at least a roundabout sort of way, about sailing, and the water, and the inherent eroticism of it

whether it's the chopping waves of the Waking Sea, the embrace of Rialto Bay, or the quaking, frigid depths of the unknown that is he Sundered Sea, she's just so deeply entranced by the beauty and vastness of the world that she just... can't help it.

"The sea is our mother, the cloud is our brother, the waves are our comrades all."

(also this is a great reason for her to actually have the mermaid tattoo that I had been picturing her with, since mermaids in sailor tattoos are generally a symbol of that beauty and danger represented by the ocean.)

I love giving my little hobbies and interests to my characters (partly for authenticity's sake, and partly because I think every little guy benefits from having a hobby), so like Arvid crochets and is interested in philosophy, Iona is a jeweler (I'm, like, super fascinated by historical jewelry-making techniques and symbolism), Petyr does all sorts of weird DIY shit, Tristan does embroidery, and I'm really considering giving Tanner some sort of a writing-related hobby, for those long hours of downtime one has on a ship

I can't decide what'd be more fun: to have this burly, pirate-adjacent, helplessly butch dwarfette writing gorgeous, lavishly written travelogues and memoirs under a pseudonym with sales numbers rivaling Genitivi and Tethras, or for her to like, write actually kind of incredible, and profoundly horny sapphic poetry that never sees the light of day

maybe both

...... and this is not at all because my death grip on my knee turns into a horny grip at the thought of a dwarven stud with a smoker-voice and a sailor's hands tenderly reciting the poetry that she had written for Harding at the small hours of the morning