#tamlen was my first love so you see this is where the problem started

[pinacoladamatata]

if they Tamlen solas' ass, that might just be IT for me

[aeantizlkamenwati]

So I'm adding to this after about twenty more hours playing it.

Yes it's a long ramble again. The last line sums it up for you.

Again I don't think it's a bad game; it's fun (once I removed the combat essentially. It does get repetitive very quickly though). Sometimes it does make me genuinely laugh. The music sometimes feels...Mass Effect. Like literally there's a few tracks that are too futuristic and I swear to every god I hear the main menu piano bits from one of the Mass Effects in a few.

But it's still so sanitized. It feels like Rook is supposed to be the protag of a Pokémon game? The type where it's all sunshine and rainbows and everyone gets along and power of friendship, you know?

Part of the problem, I think, is everyone in the game knows Rook's backstory, we don't. Rook knows their backstory; we don't. I saw someone mention there should've been like a handful of protagonist slides in the beginning, and I agree. It would've helped me to understand BioWare's MC, maybe care a little bit about them. But instead we find out about Rook's backstory via bits and pieces. Like Mercar apparently was found as a baby after a skirmish? And here I was thinking maybe they were orphaned or cast out onto the streets. Silly me. No. Mercar has never known anything but privilege I guess? Idk what the other Rooks familial status is (aside from the necro one) or if it ever gets brought up. But like knowing it up front would help me connect with this...person who has to be always funny (honestly the witty Rook is the only dialogues that make sense tonally for me?)

I get it. They want to be as inclusive as possible, but it comes at a very high cost. I don't really do evil routes myself, I'm more the redemption arc or anti-hero or just really reluctant hero type, so I get everyone is like "why do you want to be evil?" I don't. I just wish Rook had more personality, or our tonal choices matched what came out of their mouth? If I choose stoic/stern, I expect to be stern/stoic and not...impatient? I guess? Witty is the only one that always matches everything, everything else is just kinda blah, which begs the question why make it a choice? It takes away part of the roleplay.

And it's made worse, for me, by the fact that it is so sunshine and rainbows all the damn time? Again I understand they want everyone to feel seen, and some people don't like things like fantasy racism or classism or religious problems...

But...the major conflicts in DA involved those things? And now they are just swept aside and we are one musical short of a Disney movie.

So everything just lacks punch. Again we are told something is bad, but never allowed to witness why. It's like Bioware is an overly protective parent shielding our innocent eyes, going "oh no it's too terrible for you, we don't want you to feel bad."

So I, as someone who lives for angst because that's cathartic to me, just stop connecting to the characters because everyone's going to be nice, and there's no real conflict and the "hardening" makes no sense if you remember these aren't teenagers but fully fledged, battle-seasoned adults who know full-well Rook did send help but apparently the Veilguard Elite Force is useless without Rook...cough. Sorry, got salty about that again. (Don't get me started on Taash).

And all this light, this lack of something to balance it out makes the triumphs blah. Because...

Like I think of Hawke and the Warden on how invested I was in their story. Going through the prologues in Origins made me feel for those characters. I can still remember the gut punch and rage I felt playing a female City Elf, and knowing what was going on and murdering the entire castle, and feeling sick seeing Shianni. Or playing Mahariel and flirting with Tamlen, feeling like the "young love was in bloom" and having it all ripped away, and then him showing at camp? Oof, messed me up. I CRIED playing a Cousland and the sheer emotion in the goodbye scene. I teared up when my first Hawke lost Carver and then her mother and seeing the awkward and lack luster scene with a companion trying to comfort her...it hurt.

But that made the triumphs, the light moments, the humor, the storylines all the more sweeter.

The shadows that infested Thedas gave the characters depth and emotion. It made the journeys the characters went on mean more because I knew how bad it COULD be, and it felt like we could grow together as a team through the hardships and horrors.

Veilguard doesn't have that. There's no conflict between personalities or biases that need to be checked or opinions to change. Rook doesn't witness hardships and doesn't get a "COULD ONE THING IN THIS FUCKING WORLD JUST STAY FIXED?!" moment (so far...closest thing I got was telling Solas (still sickeningly polite for the angry option) to stop pretending he was doing a good thing (seriously the tone and the dialogue did not match the short "Quit the bullshit" tag; be angrier Rook! Tell him off!).

I replayed DA games so many times I can quote an obscene amount of lore, history, and direct lines. I did it because they were comforts to me, an escape from my own shitty life where there was something equally shitty going on and the characters reacted to it (like normal people, not witty one-liners) and even through that darkness I found a home in the characters, their stories, their journeys. We had ups and downs, and yes I'm a people pleaser so I memorized how to win everyone over completely, but that didn't detract from it, from getting to know these characters. It made me feel connected to them. I didn't love Varric because he was charming, I loved him because I could understand his need to slap a smile on and ignore the pain. I loved Fenris despite his hostility towards mages because I could understand it (I hate Anders because he is a toxic waste dump but I guess other people love him). I thought it beautiful that Fenris had to go on a little journey with me, learning to accept one mage at least and trust them.

Inclusivity does not mean pastel and rainbows; it means treating the dark topics with care and respect, giving warnings maybe or a toggle. Which I think is my main problem with the game.

Bioware forgot the darkness they scrubbed away...it's what made the light parts shine so bright.

Veilguard Thoughts

I just need to get my thoughts out of my head and the Void seems like a perfect place since I can’t write a review on console. I’m all for civil discussion, but at the end of the day this is my opinion/feelings after 20 hours. Perhaps it'll change once I finished the game, but I doubt it. Beware minor spoilers.

Warning: Incredibly long. TL;DR at the very end.

I’ll start this off by saying it’s not a bad GAME, just a bad DRAGON AGE. It runs nice (only had one crash, and minimal amount of stuttering on fidelity mode, one time the screen went completely black but the dialogue and music continued which was vaguely terrifying. Some movements are janky in cutscenes, but overall, not bad). It's pretty, I like some of the new designs. The music is nice.

I’m not a fan of this style of combat (never could jive with God of War or Bloodbourne; my preference for real time action is like Hades and DMC) mostly because I can’t cancel an action with dodge/block and the AI focuses solely on Rook so you end up getting swarmed and unable to properly see the flasher plus the timing is weird af. I tried playing on what I assume was supposed to be Casual mode (Keeper) because it said “emphasizes party composition over reflexes” and well…it lied. To the point that I was not having fun because the game is 70% combat, 20% exploring and 10% story. So I turned it to Story mode because I could not be bothered and enjoyed it slightly more. It feels very MMO, team-based, looter imo. The UI, how it handles, the depth of the story and how it goes about it (the Mission Accomplished Journal screens specifically), the emphasis on combat over anything else…

And here we get to my problem: I only enjoy it when I pretend it’s just a generic fantasy game and not Dragon Age. Because it doesn’t FEEL like a Dragon Age. It feels as soft as everyone’s skin texture. I don’t care about the story or the characters and it boils down to the writing.

It feels juvenile.

Like I loved DA because it was willing to confront the worst in humanity. The disgusting parts of war like Loghain selling elves to slavers, or the nunances of blood magic. Presenting choices that are morally grey like sacrificing the Circle or the Templars in DA2 (yes that choice was heavily forced and stupid but still). It didn’t shy away from it. There was levity, but the characters had multiple sides. They could get angry, they could get snappy or sappy. There was GROWTH to them. Zevran’s romance arc if you choose to reject the earring without more commitment was beautiful. DA2’ romances were…a little stilted, but I still enjoyed them. Inquisition also had lovely little arcs, depending on the romance. But even friendships felt natural as you got to know these people.

And Veilguard falls flat. They were okay with pissing off the culture war babies with trans/nonbinary options, but not with showing us the bad things. The game TELLS us “this is bad”, but doesn’t show why. They have their soap box moment of “slavery bad” like it’s not 2024 and anyone worth the air they breathe knows that, how about you still show that since we are IN THE HEART OF THE SLAVE TRADE?! Where’s the option to maybe be an escaped slave? An escaped Saarebas? They refuse to give us blood magic because “it’s messy” Yeah. It is. That’s the point. Maybe let me decide if that's a line I'd like to cross? No? Necromancy is fine? It’s like we traded the dark adult themes for better sex scenes.

The major choice I’ve gotten to means NOTHING outside of metagaming. It’s like they were trying to show they could be edgy or that “now now you can’t save everyone because we say so and we are going to force one of your companions to hate you”. And it boils down to who you want to romance, who is vital as a support character, and which faction do you prefer? Has nothing to do with anything else and there’s no way to fix this forced hardening, so have fun with that I guess? It’s not like I chose the dialogue options or anything, it feels as shoe horned in as DA2’s ending tbh. Like here have a shitty decision for no other reason than we want you to.

Then BioWare seems to have tried to both cater to the newbies and the ones who read/watch/listen to the extra media and fail to find a middle ground. It relies too heavily on codexes and journals and other media (which was my gripe with Inquisition) to do the heavy lore lifting (for example as someone who did not read Tevinter Nights yet nor listened to the third-party podcast, I have no connection to Rook's backstory).

But at the same time, it treats us like we are stupid? Going back to how juvenile the writing feels: it repeats itself a horrific amount. Every time Solas says “the Evanuris” it’s apparently a contractual obligation for him to say “or the elven gods as you would call them” immediately after. The amount of freaking out about them CONSTANTLY is like they are afraid we forgot after an hour. And again I kept thinking: how about you stop telling me they are terrible and why I should be scared and SHOW me?  D’Meta did nothing because I didn’t see it happen like watching Loghain call the retreat after watching darkspawn slaughter the army. Another example in the beginning is after you get the dagger, you speak with Harding and you can discuss magic. Rook notes they know dwarves are called Children of the Stone. Five seconds later Harding goes in the most “I’m speaking to a toddler” tone: “Dwarves call ourselves Children of the Stone. Some of us have what we call Stone sense.” Like…Rook would know that??? If newbies are confused they can go look in the glossary (isn’t that what that’s for?) or give an option to ask a question. It just feels so fucking patronizing.

Then it spoils so much of the story with the Varric interludes, or repeats itself AGAIN when I think they are there for style and suspense. Like Varric I already know they need to craft a red lyrium dagger, they straight up TOLD ME. That scene didn’t need to be in there at all. Solas’ little monologue rehashing everything in the beginning was unnecessary, and honestly him just telling us who we were against without us first seeing how bad it was…just…It took the suspense out of it. Like imagine if Inquisition straight up told you that Corypheus was the baddie just immediately in the Temple of Sacred Ashes prologue scene. That’s what it felt like.

Which brings me to the dialogue and characters I suppose. The companions have the depth of a shallow pool and Rook has less. They have moments where I like them, but tbh I don’t really care for any of them because how could I? I can’t talk to them. It feels empty. I like that they have lights telling me when I have new dialogue, but I miss having conversations with Dorian or Zevran, getting to know them before I started flirting with them. But nope. None of that. And good god the flirting is cringey because of it. Just comes out of nowhere and feels like teenagers. Again, there are moments where I’m like: THAT DO THAT, but it goes right back to the blah stuff. Like whoever wrote the Crows, good job. I loved Teia almost immediately. Viago great. Illario, I’m intrigued. Lucanis by default also interests me, but unfortunately, I don’t get to explore his character much. Irelin is also good. I liked the Veil Jumper fight you could get into with Strife (felt like witnessing a father/child yelling match). Where’s that sort of dialogue with everyone else?

And ROOK. Oh god Rook. They make a big deal about us not being able to be a people pleaser, and yet that’s the only personality Rook has. My favorite moment of Inquisition was in Trespasser where the Inquisitor could FINALLY have a human moment and BREAK. It felt like they had been bottling it up for so long and they just couldn’t anymore. I don't foresee Rook getting that sort of moment.

Rook is just three flavors of customer service. There’s no option for them to be anything but the dashing hero who has boundless optimism like a puppy. Where’s the option be the reluctant hero? The ruthless “hero”? They are just a bumbling idiot with witty one liners.

They feel like a teenager’s first protag as they try to give them “flaws” but never show those flaws. Nothing you do matters, just how you say “yes I’ll help”. There’s no nuance. No places where I think Rook can grow without ME. Rook is just a blank doll without me projecting onto them and even in BIG supposedly heartwrenching moments, Rook is just an idiot. And put them with the juvenile and forced dialogue of the companions? It feels like they are a pre-teen who’s been put in charge of a bunch of toddlers while the nice uncle tries to soothe them and the abusive dad yells.

The abusive dad is Solas btw. Varric says he views us all as children, to which I want to reply: yeah and he’s a piece of shit dad who rubs their toddler’s face into their diaper going “LOOK AT THE MESS YOU MADE BAD BAD BAD!” Like honestly, you can tell it’s not the same people writing these characters. Solas feels like they decided the low approval Solas was the canon no matter what. In Inquisition I truly felt like he was redeemable. This Solas? Nah, I want to stab that bitch first chance. Like he’s giving me no reason to like him and he’s being a dick for no fucking reason. Maybe later on we learn a reason, but in 20 hours there’s ZERO. That’s a problem if you are trying to get me to see his side of things. And the tonal shifts from when he shows that he regrets stabbing Varric? Feel forced, like my dude I think you are lying just because you seem to be unable to comprehend half of this is YOUR fault.

Which ties into my last gripe: this is not MY Thedas. The decision to make only the last fifteen minutes of a paid DLC mean ANYTHING (and tbh I have yet to find where the hell it actually matters in 20 hours. I have two saves about the same amount of progress: one Solavellan and the other Dorian, they are basically the exact opposite choices. I can't say I've found where anything has changed, so what was that about them not wanting to do one bit of dialogue???? At least in Inquisition within the first two hours I could find those bits of dialogue) that decision made it where none of these characters matter to me. They feel more like carrots dangling in front of long-time players trying to entice us closer, but when you grab the carrot…it just vanishes.

That’s not MY Morrigan. That’s not MY Varric, MY Solas, MY Dorian. They are NewBioWare’s versions of them. The Inquisitor? The character I played over 100 hours as isn’t MINE. They are a stranger because they tore away any agency I had. They just picked whatever personality they wanted and said LOOK SEE CONNECTION. But there’s no history, no connection, NOTHING. There’s so many places where I can see where they could’ve done something. And if I can see them, why couldn’t anyone at BioWare?

They forgot that DA’s uniqueness wasn’t just the companions (and these ones are just below DA2’s since we didn’t get to interact with them either, so…), it was the world and how it reacted to choices in previous games. How new heroes might have to deal with the consequences (and to be fair, no DA game has ever actually managed to deliver on that, but they at least TRIED).

This though…

TL;DR: this should’ve felt like a homecoming and instead it feels like BioWare demolished my home, spray painted the ruins with soft pastels and is trying to tell me it’s the same, if not better. And it’s not, and probably never will be again.

[diirthara-ma]

“On Skyhold” Codex Entry Translation

The codex entry “On Skyhold” contains elven writing which references the elven name of Skyhold (“Tarasyl’an telas”), found written underneath a pillar in some of the older parts of the fortress. The Skyhold archivist notes that the writing is “old but still [written] long after the place had been built over.” Only part of the writing survives:

Var'landivalis him sa'bellanaris san elgar

Melanada him sa'miras fena'taldin (word missing)

Nadasalin telrevas ne suli telsethenera

Tarasyl'an te'las vehn'ir abelath'vir (word missing) 

The translation provided was put together by the archivist, with the assistance of Solas. The archivist notes that, even with Solas’s help, they still “managed only a partial translation.” Here is the translation given in the codex entry, along with the archivist’s notes:

Our belief transformed into everything. (assertation/problem? uncertain)

All time is transformed into the final/first death (uncertain),

Inevitable/threatened victory and horrible/promised freedom in the untorn veils, (uncertain)

Where the sky is held up/back, where the people give/gain love that is an apology/promise from/to....(missing subject, uncertain)

While I think the archivist’s translation here isn’t actually *incorrect*, I thought it could be interesting to break this down word-for-word and see if anything new can be gleaned from it. As the archivist even notes in this codex entry, “Elven is often a game of intents, not direct mapping of phonetic meaning. That means it's a mess.” Additionally, the fact that Solas helped them translate makes me think there are potentially parts that he purposely simplified or concealed the meaning of when translating.

My word-for-word translation and musings are below the cut:

Var'landivalis him sa'bellanaris san elgar

“Our belief transformed into everything. (assertation/problem? uncertain)”

Var’landivalis = “our belief”; an elision of var + glandivalis

var = “our”; Var Bellanaris is translated by Keeper Gisharel as “our eternity” (from the quote here); Emma solas him var din'an is translated as “Arrogance became our end”, literally “____(?) pride became our death-place” (from the codex entry Tracing from the Temple Doors)

glandivalis = “belief”; in the poem “Where Willows Wail” we see the line Ir tela’ena glandival, vir amin tel’hanin translated as “When we could no longer believe, we lost glory to war”

him = “to become/to make (into)”, “to transform”; as I discussed here

sa’bellanaris = “____-eternity/forever”; possibly a contraction of sa and bellanaris, “one eternity”?

sa = “one”; it’s entirely possible that this is actually a shortening of a larger word, but sa is so short it’s hard to even guess at what the full word would be

bellanaris = “eternity”, “forever”, “many years”; the elven dictionary in World of Thedas Volume 1 translates it as “eternity”; Var Bellanaris is translated by Keeper Gisharel as “our eternity” (here); the Dalish translator in “Torn Notebook in the Deep Roads, Section 3” translates it as “forever”; Asha’bellanar, the name the Dalish give Flemeth, is translated by a Dalish elf in The Stolen Throne as “The Woman of Many Years”, asha = woman and therefore bellanar means “many-years”

san = ????? San doesn’t seem to play a direct role in the arcanist’s translation, and while we’ve seen the word like a half-dozen times it’s not clear from any of those contexts what the word actually means? I’m going to try to puzzle it out in another one of these elven language posts at some point in the future.

elgar = “spirit’; it’s strange to me that this word doesn’t seem to factor into the archivist’s translation at all, this seems like a definite sign that his translation is incomplete

Thoughts:

I’m not sure why elgar doesn’t factor into the archivist’s translation at all? Or why they translate sa’bellanaris as “everything”, unless they’re interpreting “one-eternity/forever” as meaning “many”? Like an infinite number of things? Maybe they’re translating the whole phrase sa'bellanaris san elgar as “everything”?

Some possible translations include  “Our beliefs transformed our eternal spirits” or “Our faith/belief [in Fen’Harel] transformed our immortality and spirits”---referencing the elves losing immortality bc of the actions of Fen’Harel and his people?

Or perhaps “Our beliefs transformed our spirits into eternal/immortal ones.”---referencing the beginnings of the elves? That they were once spirits, and then became immortal, physical beings?

Melanada him sa'miras fena'taldin (word missing)

“All time is transformed into the final/first death (uncertain)”

melanada = Something to do with time; melana is translated as “time” in the codex entry In Uthenera; da as a prefix normally means “little”, that doesn’t seem to be the case with it here, as a suffix?; Melana + nadas? “Inevitable time?”; melana is also translated as “now” in the codex entry Tracing from Temple Doors, perhaps melana + nadas = “it is now inevitable?”

him = “to become/to make (into)”, “to transform”

sa'miras = I’m not sure if this pairs with the next word and *together* the archivist takes them to mean “final/first death”, or if this is separate and just means “into” or for some reason doesn’t factor into their translation?; clearly another contraction, sa + miras ?; it’s possible that if the sa here means “one” that this word means “first”

sa = as previously mentioned, sa means “one” but we don’t know if this is actually an elision and, if it is, how how much of the first word was lost

miras = possibly related to mir, “my”?; to my knowledge we don’t have any other words that would be related to this

fena'taldin = This is clearly part of what the archivist is translating as “the first/final death”, given the word din

fena = ??? the only related word we have is fen, which obviously means “wolf”, but I’m not sure that’s relevant? I guess it’s possible that fena’taldin is referencing death caused by the Dread Wolf, but that doesn’t seem likely to me; it also seems unlikely to me that either sa’miras or fena’tal translates *literally* as “final”, given that both halam and din are already used to mean “final/end”

taldin = something to do with death (tal + din); the only word related to tal that I know of is Keeper Marethari’s surname, Talas, which we don’t know the translation of

(word missing) = Given that there are so many unidentifiable words in this section, it’s hard to make even a wild guess at what could be missing here. Potentially something about the Veil? Or uthenera?

Thoughts:

This section has so many unidentifiable parts it’s difficult to make even a guess at a translation beyond what is said by the Skyhold archivist. The only parts we can reliably translate basically give us “Time(?) become/transform _____(?) _____(?)-death.” 

From the archivist’s translation, I’m assuming this is about the elves losing their immortality, hence “final/first death,” referencing that people started dying of old age for the first time?

Nadasalin telrevas ne suli telsethenera

“Inevitable/threatened victory and horrible/promised freedom in the untorn veils, (uncertain)”

nadasalin = If this elision breaks down the way the archivist seems to think it does, it should be nadas + enasalin; it’s interesting that the archivist also suggests “threatened victory” as a translation, perhaps from the general tone of the sentence they get the impression that the fact that victory is inevitable is bad?

nadas = “inevitable/inevitably”, “something that must be”; from the elven dictionary in WoT v1

salin = from enasalin, “victory”; the codex entry “Enasalin” translates Enasalin'abelas as "sorrowful victory", literally “victory-sorrow”

telrevas = Translated by the archivist as “horrible freedom” or “promised freedom”, it seems to be a contraction of tel + revas, so literally “not-freedom”. Therefore I think the definition the archivist is trying to get at is a sort of “false freedom,” a promised freedom that turned out to be horrible. Another possible translation might be “un-freedom,” as in the opposite of freedom, so potentially “slavery”?

tel = “not”; Wisdom says Tel’abelas to Solas during the quest “All-New, Faded for Her” and it’s translated as “I’m not sorry”; Tel garas Solasan is translated as “Come not to a prideful place” (“not” + “come” + “pride-place”) in the codex entry “Tracing from the Temple Doors”

revas = “freedom”; from the elven dictionary in WoT v1; in The Last Flight, when Isseya sees that her griffon is named Revas, she thinks to herself that “it was an Elvish word: ‘freedom’”

ne = there isn’t much precedent for the word ne, one of the only places we’ve heard it is when Solas tells Abelas Malas amelin ne halam, which Solas translates as “I hope you find a new name,” but the phrase definitely doesn’t *literally* translate to that; perhaps this is what the archivist is translating as “in”?; potentially related to nae, which means “no”?

suli = we’ve not seen this word anywhere else; we’ve got a lot of elven words that start with “sul-” (sulahn, suledin, sulevin) but it’s difficult to know which, if any, of these words suli would be related to; perhaps this is what the archivist is translating as “untorn”?

telsethenera = tel + sethenera, something like “not-Fade” or “the absence of the Fade”? I think this word is the part the archivist is translating as “veils”

tel = “not”

sethenera = another name for the Fade?; setheneran is translated as “land of waking dreams” by Tamlen in the Dalish Origin, he says Hahren Paivel uses it to refer to places where the Veil is thin/weak; in “Where Willows Wail” from WoT v2 sethen’a is translated as “the land of dreams” (it’s noted that a “form of lyrical shorthand” is used in this song, which might explain the shortening of sethenera to sethen’a); theneras is translated as “dreams” in the codex entry Torn Notebook in the Deep Roads, Section 3

Thoughts:

A possible translation is “The inevitable victory of the (untorn? untearable?) Veil brought nothing but a false freedom.” or “The Veil was a false freedom and a pyrrhic victory.”---the victory of Fen’Harel and his people after the Veil went up ended up not bringing the elvhen people the freedom Solas had promised, but instead cut the elves off from the Fade. This had catastrophic effects on elven society: it destroyed buildings, caused people to start aging and dying, cut many elves off from magic, etc.

Tarasyl'an te'las vehn'ir abelath'vir (word missing)

“Where the sky is held up/back, where the people give/gain love that is an apology/promise from/to....(missing subject, uncertain)”

tarasyl'an = “Sky-keep/hold-place”; this is what Morrigan says the ancient elven name of Skyhold was, and she translates it as “the place where the sky is kept”

tara = “sky”?

syl = I’m curious if this is the part that means “kept/held”; this would match up with Sylaise potentially being literally translated as “hearthkeeper”; however it would also potentially conflict with Dirthamen literally translating as “keeper of secrets”

an = a suffix that denotes that the noun is a place; Solasan is translated as “prideful place” in the codex entry “Tracing from Temple Doors” https://dragonage.fandom.com/wiki/Codex_entry:_Tracing_from_Temple_Doors)

te'las = In the last addition to the “On Skyhold” codex entry, Solas says that the name of Skyhold is not just tarasyl'an---“some simplistic allusion to holding up the sky”---but that the full elven name is tarasyl’an telas, meaning “the place where the sky was held back”; therefore I think te’las translates to something like “not shared” or “not given,” making Skyhold’s full literal name something like “Sky-keep/hold-place not-given”

te = from tel, “not”

las = “give/grant”; in the codex entry Tracing from Temple Doors, Melana en athim las enaste is translated as “Now let humility grant favor”; in the codex entry Torn Notebook in the Deep Roads, Section 3, the phrase Mythal las ma theneras is translated as “Mythal gives you dreams”

vehn'ir = given that the archivist translates this as something to do with “people”, I think this might be a misspelling? I think it’s probably meant to be vhen’ir

vehn = probably meant to be vhen, “people”; as seen in words like vhenadahl, “the tree of the people” (from the codex Vhenadahl: The Tree of the People) and elvhen, “the people”, as seen in the elven history section of WoT v1

ir = ???? as I mentioned here, it’s difficult to tell if ir is meant to be a pronoun (either “I” or “we”) or a verb, potentially “to be” or ”to have”; I feel like in this context, especially with the archivist translating this part of the sentence as “the people give/gain”, it would make sense if ir is being used as a verb, potentially “to have”?

abelath'vir = “way of sorrowful love”, “path of loving apology”, “love through sorrow/an apology”; as this is made up of three words (abe + lath + vir) it can combine in many ways

abe = from abelas, “sorrow”, “to be sorry”; from the elven dictionary in WoT v1

lath = “love”, “love of being”, “to be in love”; from the elven dictionary in WoT v1

vir = “way/path of”; Vir Tanadhal translates as “Way of the Three Trees” (from the codex entry Vir Tanadhal: The Way of the Three Trees)

(word missing) = I feel like Fen’Harel would make sense here; Evanuris could also possibly fit

Thoughts:

It’s interesting that the archivist is certain that the *subject* is missing from this sentence. I wonder how they came to that conclusion? Elven doesn’t seem to properly follow any specific word order, nor do noun declensions seem to be demarcated in any noticeable way, so how would they be able to tell? There are several other nouns here that could all be the subject of the sentence. I wonder why they specify what type of word is missing here and not in the other phrase that’s missing a word?

One possible translation for this would be something like “Where the sky was held back, people give love as an apology to Fen’Harel”---Perhaps saying that, after the Veil was created, elves continued to travel to the site to essentially try to convince Fen’Harel to take the Veil back down? Like, they would give him “love”--offerings, worship him, etc.--hoping it would make him change his mind and put things back to the way they used to be? Solas was presumably asleep at this point, and potentially wasn’t even aware yet of the ramifications of the Veil, but assuming that many elves still didn’t understand he wasn’t actually a god maybe they thought he was purposely ignoring them?

Another translation that would have a similar meaning is “Where the sky was held back, the people give love as an apology to the Evanuris.” That maybe people tried to reach out to the locked-away gods from the place where the Fade was held back, hoping that somehow they could reach them?

Another possibility, basically coming at the sentence from an opposite perspective, would be “Fen’Harel held the sky back, as a loving promise to the people.” Perhaps whoever is writing this sees what Solas did as a good thing, despite the ramifications? Or they’re trying to explain Solas’s motivations?

I’d love to see what other translations people come up with! 

[puffy-shirt]

Hi! I was browsing the DA tag and saw your new Wardens. Have you decided on their personalities, classes/specializations, or romances yet? C:

Eyyy! Thanks for asking :) I know you asked abt my new wardens, but I haven't actually talked about a lot of my older ones either! So I'm using this as my excuse :P

-Ro Surana: Female/Elf/Mage (Sword); Arcane Warrior/Shapeshifter(Spider)/Battlemage ♡ Alistair

Dog: Dog

Ro is my oldest and most beloved warden. She is loving, smart, and has a great sense of humor, but above all she has a strong sense of justice and a fire in her heart. Her and Alistair are married im Redcliffe after the blight and they stay wardens together. If they find a way to rid themselves of the taint, they have a daughter together 🥺💗

-Helena Cousland: Female/Human/Warrior (Sword and Sheild); Berzerker/Champion/Spirit Warrior ♡ Zevran

Dog: Prince

Helena is one of the youngest (in terms of her age) of my wardens and one of my favorites! The loss of her family is a horrific event that turns her temperament angry and spiteful. She can't stand alistiars constant jokes. She can't stand Leliana's piousness. Basically she can only stand her dog, and zevran (who she has a tumultuous but overall loving relationship with). After the blight she stays with him, but they never marry.

- Persephone Aeducan: Female/Dwarf(Noble)/Warrior (Greatsword); Champion/Templar/Guardian ♡ Gorrim

Dog: Aeducan

Persephone was a born leader, and player in the game of politics. She is wicked intelligent and cunning. Her and Gorrim have a long illicit relationship and they just adore each other. Pers is just... absolutely heartbroken when Gorrim tells her he is married. She knows they still love each other and always will. After the blight she returns to take her rightful place in orzammar, gorrim along side her. I have two minds about her ending tho... half of me headcannons that gorrim lied about having a wife, believing that was the only way persephone would let him go so that he wouldn't burden her. In that scenario, they return to orzammar together and resume their relationship - now open about it. In the scenario where he was truthful, he never really loved his wife, but they all follow Persephone to orzammar. There, there is a lot of pining for each other and persephone keeps him on a tight (metaphorical) leash.

- Mason Cousland: Male/Human/Warrior (Dual Blades); Templar/Champion/Guardian ♡ Anora

Dog: Hound

Mason was designed to be the pinnacle of the noble character trope. He is the noble prince, the righteous king. Him and Alistair are best buddies. However, Mason decides the right thing to do is spare Loghain and give him a chance at redemption. He is HEARTBROKEN when this causes his best friend to leave. Mason marries Anora, and I have this entire story written out (in my head) about their relationship and how they fall in love after the blight. They have two children, and Mason is beloved by all as king.

- Rose Amell: Female/Human/Mage; Blood Mage/Spirit Healer/Keeper ♡ Alistair

Dog: King

Rose is... hmmm... I really love her, but ultimately she is a coward. She wants to do the right thing, but is soft. Ultimately her fear of failure causes her to turn to blood magic, as she believes that is the only way she would be able to beat the darkspawn. She sees Alistair as her knight in shining armor, and stays his consort/lover when he becomes the sole ruler of fereldan.

- Ariya Tabris: Female/Elf(City)/Rogue (Dual Blades); Assasin/Duelist/Shadow ♡ Alistair

Dog: Mutt

Ariya is my chameleon character, originally from the elder scrolls universe, that I've come to insert into every rpg I can hahaha. She is a sourpuss who can't say anything that doesn't come out as sarcastic. She also struggles a lot with addiction problems to both alcohol and lyruim. Her and Alistair get together, however he leaves her to become king. This obviously upsets her, and when morrigan tells her of the ritual, she decides not to tell alistiar about it, a decision she regrets for the rest of her life. She intends to sacrifice herself at the battle of denerim, and is horrified when alistoar beats her to it.

- Lienna Mahariel: Female/Elf(Dalish)/Rogue (Archer); Ranger/Assasin  ♡ Tamlen

Dog: Vhenan

One of my newer ones! I wanted to make a spicy ass elf maiden who was inseparable with her lover Tamlen until the blight. She is definitely anti human, and refuses to hang out with the human members of the party. She starts to develop feelings for zevran, but feels too guilty about it to follow through with the relationship. In the end, she sacrifices her life to end the blight.

- Dorrien Tabris: Female/Elf(City)/Rogue(Sword); Bard/Duelist ♡ Zevran

Dog: Nelaros

My youngest both in age and when I created her! She is a hopeless romantic and falls in love immediately and often. In her story, she has love at first sight with her betrothed, Nelaros. In her version they actually get married and are well into the celebrations when the wedding is interrupted. She is heartbroken at the loss of her husband. Her moms side of the family is from antiva, and she was trained to Duel with a rapier. Her main talent is song though, and her and Leliana are bffs for LIFE. Her whole thing is that there is this big ol love triangle between her, alistiar, and zevran. She falls in love with Alistair immediately, who takes a but longer to develop feelings. Meanwhile Zevran falls head over heels right away for Dorri, and he slowly grows on her. Ultimately, when she realizes Alistair is destined to be king, which means they could never truly be together, she chooses to be with Zevran. They marry and have a child after the blight.

[pikapeppa]

Sten/f!Mahariel: Fall Into The Tide, Chapter 4

Chapter 4 of Sten and Yara Mahariel’s nautical adventures is up on AO3! The chapter is called ‘Conversations’, and it consists of a bunch of... well, conversations.

~6800 words; read on AO3 here. 

********************

The journey to Par Vollen unfolded in a series of surprisingly fair-weather days. Yara and Sten soon slipped into a new routine of training twice per day: once with weapons in the morning before breakfast, and another session of hand-to-hand combat before the evening meal. 

On the first day that they started hand-to-hand combat, however, Yara was met with a surprise: Sten didn’t seem entirely confident on what he was doing. Their sessions seemed to involve a lot of trial-and-error, and Yara often found herself standing idly while Sten inspected her body, almost as though he was trying to assess her value as a weapon. When he finally instructed her to hit him, he only seemed annoyed when he easily deflected her strikes. 

On the third day of this sort of haphazard training, Yara eventually held up a hand to stop him. “Sten, is something wrong?” she asked.  

“I do not want an audience,” he said.

Yara blinked in surprise. That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. 

She glanced at the deck, where a handful of sailors were casually watching their sparring. It wasn’t unusual for a few crew members to watch while she and Sten were training, and Sten had never expressed a problem with it before. 

“You don’t want them watching us at all anymore?” she said. That was going to be a bit difficult to achieve, since the ship was not very big. She and Sten had been doing all their training on the forecastle deck where they were mostly out of the way, and seeing as the forecastle was raised, it would be quite difficult for the crew to not watch them at all.

“The weapons training, yes,” Sten said. “But this? No.”

She raised her eyebrows, feeling increasingly nonplussed. Why did it matter if the crew were watching weapons training or hand-to-hand? But Sten’s tone was firm, and Yara knew only too well how futile it was to argue with him when he was this adamant.

“All right,” she said. “I can ask them not to watch for now.” 

He nodded brusquely, and Yara drifted down to cajole the crew into not watching during their hand-to-hand sessions. When she and Sten were alone and unobserved on the forecastle deck again, she tilted her head.

“Why don’t you want them watching our hand-to-hand training?” she asked. She offered him a little smile. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of letting them see you get bested by a woman.”

Sten gave her a chiding look, then turned away. “I have little experience fighting such a small opponent.”

Yara tsked and planted her hands on her hips. “All right, I get it, I’m small and frail and you’re big and huge. Why does that–”

He cut her off. “I don’t know how to train you without the advantage of weapons,” he said. “I do not know how to make you stronger in this. This is a weakness. Such weakness should not be… witnessed.” He shot a suspicious look at the crew, who had returned to their posts by now.

Yara tilted her head. “But we knew from the start that I’m weaker than you. That’s the whole point.”

Sten shook his head. “You misunderstand. The weakness is not yours. It is mine.”

She stared at him in rising confusion. “Sten, I… I don’t know what you mean. How is my lack of ability your weakness?”

“To know something is to possess the power to master it,” he explained. “In the lack of knowing lies weakness.”

Yara raised her eyebrows, then frowned as the meaning of what he’d said sank in. “So… hang on. So you think it’s a weakness anytime that you don’t know how to do something?”

“I am a sten of the beresaad,” he said firmly. “I am a soldier and a fighter. It is my duty to know how to fight, and how to train my companions to do the same. But I don’t know how to train you to best me.” He bowed his head to her. “I lack mastery in this, kadan. I am sorry.”

She blinked at him in utter bemusement. “But… but Sten, we just got started. You can’t expect to be a master at this right away.”

“It should not be this difficult,” he insisted. “The principles should be the same. We are both intelligent beings of muscle and bone. But your fists are so small and ineffectual. I do not know how to get around this problem.” 

He looked so put out by her small and ineffectual fists that Yara couldn’t help it: she laughed. 

He scowled at her, and she raised her hands in surrender. “Listen, I think I can help. I used to scrap a little bit with the boys in my clan. They did a lot of horsing around or tripping each other up since it was all in fun and no one really wanted to hurt each other.” She shrugged. “Maybe we could use the same ideas here.”

Sten stared at her. “...horsing around?”

“Yes,” she said. “You know, like… like plowing into someone’s belly and throwing them off balance so they’d fall down. Or kicking someone in the back of the knees so they’d land on their knees and be caught off-guard.”

His face cleared suddenly. “You find a way to bring me down, and if I fall, you can strike me with greater force while I am caught off-guard.”

“Yes, exactly!” Yara said brightly. 

Sten nodded decisively. “Yes. This is a good strategy. A good way to use your smaller size as a benefit and not a hindrance.”

Yara chuckled and folded her arms. “Good to know I’m not a hindrance despite my tiny size.”

For a brief moment, a hint of a smile lit the corners of his lips. “I did not say ‘tiny’, kadan. You are not an imekari.”

“I’m certainly not,” she replied.

As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized how provocative they sounded. Sten’s eyebrows rose, and when his eyes darted over her body, her heart jolted nervously in her chest.

His eyes returned to her face. “Are you flirting again?” he asked.

She nervously licked her lips, then boldly lifted her chin. “Maybe I am.”

He stared at her without replying, and she stared back at him in all his shirtless glory. For a tense moment, neither of them spoke, and when Yara felt like her heart might beat its way straight through her throat, he finally gestured for her to approach.

“Come,” he said. “Show me a way that the men in your clan would toss each other to the ground.”

She exhaled slowly – whether with disappointment or relief, she couldn’t quite decide – then did her best to describe how her clanmates would imbalance each other to throw each other off their feet. She and Sten worked together to balance his much-greater weight against her agility, and by the time their session was finished, Yara had managed to get Sten to his knees, and his face looked more relaxed than it had all day. 

“Good,” he said. “You are improving already. This is good.”

She smiled at him and wiped her forehead. “We make a good team.”

“We have been a good team for some time,” Sten replied. 

She smiled more broadly. She knew his compliment was entirely professional, but it didn’t stop her ears from heating up or the butterflies from fluttering in her belly.

She ducked her head and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Yes. All right. I’ll, um, this will be good to get back into tomorrow.” 

Sten nodded and rose to his full towering height, and her heart kicked into her throat once more. His chest was rising and falling with exertion and his muscles were lined with sweat, and Mythal save her, he smelled so damned good… 

Her pulse suddenly throbbed between her legs. She gulped in a breath of his sharp and salty scent, then stepped back and waved haphazardly at him before scurrying away to bathe. 

In the days that followed, their hand-to-hand sessions became more and more focused and satisfying, though Yara was still having difficulty getting Sten into a vulnerable enough position to strike him hard. When they weren’t training, they often sat together while doing their own quiet activities. Sten spent a lot of time reading, and Yara wondered if he was hoping to finish The Rose of Orlais before they arrived in Par Vollen. For her part, Yara spent quite a bit of time just sitting with him and thinking while playing fetch with Fen’ain. She could be reading too, if she wanted to; Brother Genitivi had given her a small book containing essays and analyses of his own about the Grey Wardens, and Yara did want to read the book at some point. But for some reason, she was reluctant to pull the book out of her satchel right now. 

Instead, she sat with Sten and let her mind wander as she watched the clouds scudding across the sky. She thought about her former companions and wondered what they were up to: was Alistair with the Orlesian Wardens now? Had Shale and Wynne already set off on their trip to Tevinter? What sort of mischief might Zevran be getting up to? Had Oghren gone to find Felsi yet, and where in Mythal’s name had Morrigan gone? 

She thought about her clan, too. She still felt wistful for the simplicity and certainty of her life as a Dalish hunter, as well as longing for Ashalle and Fenarel and Marethari and for poor Tamlen too. But cutting through her longing was an ugly but persistent thread of bitterness. She still couldn’t decide whether she was more angry at Marethari for handing her over to Duncan, or at the entire clan for packing up and leaving instead trying harder to find Tamlen. If only they’d managed to find him, maybe he could have joined the Grey Wardens as well. If only they’d taken a little more time to look for him, maybe he wouldn’t have risen up as a blighted ruin of a man choking out his love for her through twisted and blackened lips while attacking her at the same time–

“Kadan?”

She jolted and looked up at Sten. “Yes?”

“Your hands,” he said. 

She looked down at her hands, and her gut twisted with dismay; her left wrist was reddened. She’d been scratching unconsciously at the skin on wrist – a bad habit that Ashalle had always gently scolded her about, especially when she was a child and prone to scratching until the skin was raw. Ashalle had stitched her some soft ram-leather cuffs to stop her from scratching herself raw, and eventually the habit had gone away, for the most part at least. 

She forced herself to relax her fingers and looked up at Sten. “Can you read to me from your book?” she asked.

He frowned, and for a moment Yara thought he was going to refuse. But his response took her by surprise. “I am several chapters ahead of where I was the last time I read to you,” he said. “You will not understand what’s happening.”

“So tell me what I missed, then,” she said.

“Why should I do that?” he asked.

She smiled pleadingly. “Because it’s fun?”

Sten shot her a very skeptical look, and she laughed. “All right, that was a terrible way to convince you, I’ll admit. Pretend I’m the Arishok and you’re giving me a report on your book so far.”

“The Arishok would not want a report on this drivel,” Sten said flatly.

She gave him a sly look. “So why are you still reading it, then?”

Sten frowned and returned his gaze to his book, and Yara immediately felt guilty. “I’m sorry, Sten,” she said. “I shouldn’t tease. Honestly, I think it’s great that you’re reading that book.”

He didn’t look at her, and he didn’t reply. As the silence stretched tensely between them, Yara began to wonder sadly if she should leave him alone. 

Just as she was about to rise from the bench, he spoke. “You have missed very little. The chevalier went to a tourney. He did not win, but instead of accepting the responsibility for his own failure, he became petulant and drunk.” He raised an eyebrow. “This appears to be a common theme among bas. There was also a suggestive drunken encounter with the noblewoman on a balcony.” He shot Yara a flat look. “The elf assassin would have called it ‘titillating’.”

Yara smiled, relieved that he was speaking to her again. “All right. That’s a great summary.”

He nodded, then began reading out loud, and Yara smiled to herself as she relaxed into his soothing baritone.

The days continued to blend together in a pleasant and unhurried flow. It soon became routine for Sten to read to Yara a little bit each day, and these quickly became the most calming parts of her day. She would sometimes make comments during Sten’s reading-out-loud sessions, prompting him to make dry or sarcastic replies, and eventually the focus of their sessions morphed from reading out loud to talking. 

One day, as Sten was opening The Rose of Orlais, Yara tilted her head. “I’ve still been thinking, you know,” she said. “About that parable you told me. The one with the ashkaari and the laundress.”

He nodded. “Have you determined the meaning yet?” 

“No, not yet,” she said. “But I was wondering. The way you told it was… perfect. Like you’d done it before. So I was wondering if you – if qunari, I mean – do you memorize all your fables so you can just recite them anytime?”

Sten nodded. “It is a part of mastering the Qun. To understand the Qun, you must first know the words. We recite them over and over as imekari until they become as familiar as our own faces in the mirror.”

Yara raised her eyebrows. That sounded like a harsh way to teach children, but it had clearly worked in Sten’s case. “Do you ever take a little creative licence when you’re retelling the parables?” she asked.

He frowned curiously. “‘Creative licence’? What is this?”

“It means changing the original story a bit, or adding interesting details to make it more, er, interesting.” She grimaced at her own implication that Sten’s parables were boring. “Or, um… well, I guess it would defeat the point of memorizing it if you were changing the story.”

Sten put his book aside. “These are not stories, kadan. They are lessons passed down by the Great Ashkaari Koslun. It is not my place to alter the wisdom that has governed my people for ages.”

Yara nodded, but she couldn’t help but feel a little skeptical about whether the stories – sorry, lessons – really were exactly the same as they were when the Askhaari Koslun had first come up with them. All stories or lessons changed with time and telling, after all. 

Then Sten spoke again. “I sometimes imagine the ashkaari wearing armour made of dawnstone instead of iron or steel.” 

Yara looked at him in surprise. “Dawnstone? But… but dawnstone is pink.”

Sten nodded. “An ashkaari in pink armour. It is… frivolous.”

Yara stared at him, then slowly smiled. “You think it’s funny to imagine the ashkaari in pink armour.” 

Sten smirked, and Yara had to resist the sudden urge to hug him. Before she could say anything else, he spoke again. “Your people. Your Dalish clan. Do you have fables?”

“Yes,” she said. “We have nine gods, and we have stories about all of them. Do you want to hear one?”

Sten nodded, and Yara smiled. “All right. You’ll have to bear with me, though, I’m not much a storyteller.” She settled herself facing him on the bench. “I’ll tell you about Mythal and Elgar’nan. Once upon a time, there was only the sun and the land, and there were no gods. Then the sun and the land had a child–”

“The sun and land had a child?” Sten said. “That is impossible.”

Yara gave him a patient look. “Sten, do I interrupt you when you’re telling me parables?”

He sat back. “You are right. Go on.”

She smiled before going on. “The sun and land had a child, and he was Elgar’nan. The land, who was the mother, loved Elgar’nan and made all kind of animals and plants for him to enjoy. But the sun, who was the father, got jealous and burned all the animals and plants out of jealousy.”

Sten opened his mouth to comment, and Yara raised her eyebrows. He closed his mouth and waved for her to continue.

She continued the tale. “Elgar’nan flew into a rage and leapt into the sky to fight the sun. The sun was strong, but Elgar’nan was so angry that he was stronger, so he cast the sun down to the earth into a… a crevasse, I guess, and he was imprisoned there. But because the sun was gone, everything on the land started to die.”

“But everything was already dead from being burned by the sun,” Sten pointed out.

“Oh. You’re right,” Yara said blankly. “I never thought of that.” She paused and wrinkled her nose, then waved her hand dismissively. “Anyway, the sun was shoved deep into the earth, and the earth was so sad that she began crying. That’s how all the oceans and seas came to be. The land begged Elgar’nan to forgive his father, but he wouldn’t. That’s when Mythal came out of the sea, born from the land’s tears, and she convinced Elgar’nan to change his mind. So he pulled his father out of the crevasse inside of the earth, and they came to an agreement: the sun could shine, but he would do it gently so he wouldn’t kill everything on the earth. And, um… well, I guess that’s kind of it.” She shrugged. “The land was happy that her son and husband weren’t fighting, and Elgar’nan and Mythal lived on the land with all the animals and creatures under the sun. They gave birth to the other gods – or most of them, at least, but that's moving into other stories.”

Sten didn’t speak for a moment. When Yara raised her eyebrows at him, he frowned. “You are finished?”

“Yes,” she said. “That’s the end of the story.”

His frown deepened. “But there was no lesson. There was no point.”

She smiled. “No, it – it wasn’t really a lesson sort of story. It’s just a story of how the world was made.”

“But you established from the start that the world already existed,” he argued. “The land and the sun already existed.”

“Yes, but the animals and creatures didn’t,” Yara said. “Nothing was alive on the land.”

“But why was the land alive?” he asked. “Why was the sun alive?” 

He looked so affronted, and Yara had to force herself not to laugh. “It’s a metaphor, Sten. Or – not a metaphor, but… look, it’s just a story. It’s just for fun.”

“I don’t understand,” he said. “Your culture is premised on stories that make no sense and have no meaning?”

She burst out a laugh. “Sten! That’s so rude! And besides, those stories aren’t what our entire culture is based on. It’s – it’s just a part of it. It’s our heritage, but it’s not how we live.”

He stared at her. “The stories you tell your children are not lessons, and you do not live by them? This is ludicrous.”

“There are different stories for different reasons,” she explained. “The ones that we tell around the fire at night are not the same as the ones that govern how we live our lives. We live by things like the Vir Tanadhal, which is the hunter’s code. But stories like the one I told you are just for fun. They’re… they’re like children’s stories.”

“But the stories you tell your imekari and the code by which they live should be one and the same,” Sten said.

She gazed fondly at him. “There are different ways of doing things. I was raised by the Dalish with our no-lesson children’s stories and I’m not so bad, right?”

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, and Yara shrugged. “I don’t really know what else to tell you. All I can say is that sometimes a story is just for fun. It’s like when we’d sit around with Zevran and Alistair and the others and chat.” She pulled a little face. “Or, well, I guess you didn’t really join us when we did that…” 

“I did this with my brothers in the beresaad,” Sten said. “We… chatted.”

“All right, then it’s like that,” she said. “The stories are just something interesting to talk about. A way to entertain. Like that book,” she added with a nod to The Rose of Orlais, which still sat unopened in his lap. “There’s no lesson in there. It’s just for fun.”

He frowned pensively, and Yara idly swung her bare feet as she waited for him to speak. When he did, he surprised her yet again. “I would like to hear another story.”

She raised her eyebrows. “All right, if you like. Um… I can tell you about Andruil. She’s the goddess of hunting–”

“No, not a story of your gods,” he said. “A story about you.”

Her eyes widened. “About me?”

“Yes,” he said. “Tell me a story of yourself. For… fun.”

Yara stared wordlessly at him, thrown off by his request. She didn’t particularly like talking about herself, preferring instead to deflect people’s questions back to themselves so she could listen instead of talk. But now that Sten had asked, she was realizing that he didn’t know very much about her life before they’d met, despite the year they’d spent travelling together. 

She awkwardly ran her fingers through her hair. “I… um, I guess I can think of something.” She gave him a challenging look. “But only if you tell me a story about yourself after.”

He frowned slightly, then nodded. “This is a fair exchange. I agree.”

She smiled. “All right. Well, um… I guess I can tell you about a time that Fenarel and I almost burned down the Keeper’s aravel. It was a very dry summer, and this was about fifteen years ago…” 

Yara continued her tale, and when she was finished, Sten told her a tale of his own about one of his brothers cooking the wrong sort of mushroom and making their entire squad hallucinate. And for the rest of that afternoon, they exchanged small stories of their lives, and Sten didn’t even open The Rose of Orlais. 

The journey continued, and so did their new routine of talking about their lives and their cultures and even their respective languages instead of reading. Yara sometimes felt guilty about interrupting Sten’s reading, but she was enjoying their conversations too much to stop. 

On one particular occasion, about ten days into the trip, Yara was sitting beside him and idly twisting the front of her hair into a simple braided crown when she noticed that he was staring at her rather blatantly.

Her belly did a nervous little jolt, and she paused in her braiding. “Sten, is everything okay?”

“You are a redhead,” he said. 

Yara smiled uncertainly. She had absolutely no idea where he was going with this. “Yes,” she said.

“But your hair is not red,” Sten said. “I have been thinking about this term, ‘redhead’. It is inaccurate. Your hair is orange. Perhaps with a bit of gold when the sun is bright. They should call you an ‘orange-head.’” 

Her heart did a little flip at his flattering description of her hair colour. She was sure he didn’t mean to compliment her, but it felt good anyway. 

She smiled shyly and went back to braiding her hair. “That doesn’t really have the same ring to it. ‘Orange-head’ doesn’t sound quite as sexy as ‘redhead’.”

“Sexy?” Sten said.

She pressed her lips together. The word had slipped out without her thinking about it. She ignored her burning cheeks and shrugged as casually as she could. “You know, um… attractive. In a… sexual way.”

His frown deepened. “Sex has nothing to do with the colour of hair.”

For a split second, Yara gaped at him, flustered by hearing him saying anything about sex with such certainty. Did he carry that same certainty when he was actually in the throes?

Stop it, Yara, she scolded herself. Already a thrill of heat was starting to thrum through her blood. Embarrassed, she dropped her gaze and continued to braid her hair. “I know it doesn’t. But, um. There are just, um, common beliefs about people who have red hair.”

“What kind of beliefs?” he asked.

“They say we’re… hot-headed and temperamental,” she said reluctantly. “Quick to anger or to get passionate about things. And that we, um…” She swallowed hard. “That we’re, um, passionate sex partners.”

“I understand,” Sten said.

She darted a cautious look at him. “You understand what?”

“The metaphor,” he said. “Red hair is like fire. That is the metaphor.”

“Oh,” Yara said dumbly. “Yes, that’s – yes, exactly.”

Sten grunted, apparently pleased to have sorted out the linguistic mystery. Then he gave her an appraising look. “You are not like this. You are not fierce-tempered or quick to passion.”

Her heart sank a bit at this. Sten didn’t think she was fierce or passionate? Did that mean he thought she wouldn’t be a good lover, either? 

Oh, what in Sylaise’s name was she even thinking? It’s not like Sten was thinking about her sexually at all. She let out a self-deprecating little laugh to hide her dismay. “I know. I’m kind of a disappointment that way.”

He frowned. “That is not what I said. What I mean is that you are not like a flame. You are more like an ember.” 

She frowned curiously as Sten went on. “An ember is steady. It retains the warmth of the hearth rather than dying out in a flash of light and heat. It is no less hot than the flame itself. And when one attempts to blow the ember out, it only flares brighter.” He gave her a frank look. “That is not disappointing, kadan. The ember is superior to the flame in its own way, and just as useful.”

She gaped at him. What he’d just said was so… so nice. So thoughtful and… well, rather  romantic, really. 

Creators save her from herself, she wanted to straddle his lap. 

She suppressed the lewd thought and smiled at him despite her burning cheeks. “Sten, are you flirting with me?”

His eyebrows leapt up. “Flirt–? No. It’s–” He scowled. “Vashedan. Let us speak of something else.”

She laughed and patted his knee. “I’m just teasing! It was a really nice thing to say. Thank you.”

His scowl deepened. “I did not mean to flirt. I was speaking the truth.”

“That’s what makes it so nice. Thank you,” she said softly.

“You are welcome,” he grumbled. He cleared his throat, then opened his book for the first time that day, and Yara watched with a thrill of nerves and hope as he read his book with a more focused sort of attention than usual. Maybe Sten hadn’t meant to flirt, but he had complimented her, and not on something relating to her combat form or her leadership skills. And he had said that other nice thing about her hair being golden in the sunlight…

Maybe it didn’t mean anything. Maybe she was just reading too much into it because she was so attracted to him. 

Or maybe it meant that her feelings weren’t completely one-sided after all. 

****************

Later that night in their cabin, Yara combed her hair and watched Sten surreptitiously as he washed his face in the basin in the corner and brushed his teeth. The muscles in his broad shoulders were rippling as he bent over the basin, and her eyes traced along the smoky grey expanse of his back to admire the scar on his left flank, as well as another smaller scar on his right shoulder. When he turned around, she hastily looked away from him and continued combing her hair. 

Sten slid into the bedroll on the floor and folded his arms behind his head, and a spark of lust danced down her spine. The definition in his abs was easier to admire with his arms raised, and his biceps were as thick around as her thigh, and… 

And he looked content. His expression was neutral, but his forehead wasn’t creased or lined with a frown, and his gaze on her face was relaxed instead of its usual sharp focus. 

Oh Creators, he was looking right at her while she was ogling him. She dropped his gaze and combed her hair more quickly. “You look, um, happy,” she blurted. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a question?”

She smiled faintly at him. Of course he had to make her innocuous remark sound like she’d said something stupid. Which, in all fairness, she had. At least he wasn’t pointing out that she was staring at him yet again. 

“Not a question. Just a comment,” she said. “You look relaxed. Content. It’s… I don’t know.” She shrugged. “You’re usually all focused and on duty.”

“I am about to go to sleep,” he said dryly.

She smiled more broadly. “You even look focused when you’re asleep. Like you have to do a really good job of getting a good night’s rest.” 

He scoffed. Yara chuckled, and they fell quiet for a moment. Then Yara tilted her head. “I do have a question for you, though. If you don’t mind my asking while you’re trying to sleep.”

He turned his head to look at her more fully. “Ask, kadan.” 

She nibbled the inside of her cheek for a moment. She’d been thinking about this ever since their first discussion about the difference between a purpose and a mission. She rather envied Sten’s certainty about his place in the world, and his conviction in the Qun’s worldviews was undeniable. Even so, Yara had the sense that Sten wasn’t a typical example of a qunari citizen. He said things and did things and enjoyed things that weren’t in keeping with the Qun as he described it, and whenever Yara pointed out these inconsistencies, he found some way to change the topic, whether it was by questioning her culture or insisting that she train with him, or simply by saying he needed silence in order to read. 

“Are you going to ask?” he said.

“Oh,” she said blankly. “Right. I was just thinking… are you happy being qunari? Being a member of the Qun, I mean?”

Sten frowned, then slowly sat up in his bedroll. “‘Happy.’ You often use this word as though it has meaning. As though it is clearly defined and understood the same way by everyone. What does this word mean to you?”

She blinked. She hadn’t expected him to throw the question back at her so quickly. “It means… not being miserable, I suppose.”

“Misery is a choice,” Sten said. “You can choose not to be miserable.”

A little laugh escaped her lips – more of surprise than true mirth. “No you can’t,” she said. “Sometimes terrible things happen and they make you sad. That’s just… it’s normal to be miserable sometimes, Sten.”

“It is normal for terrible things to happen,” he said. “It is a choice to remain stuck in a state of misery instead of moving forward.”

She gazed at him with growing disbelief. “So you think people should just… stop being sad and move on?”

He studied her for a moment, then shook his head and lay back down. “I am not a tamassran. It is not my place to teach. Qunari do not transgress their roles.”

“Well, I’m not qunari,” she said. “And no one here is going to accuse you of stepping out of line.”

He shot her a suspicious look, and she gestured at him. “Come on, tell me. I like hearing what you have to say.”

He gave her one of those penetrating looks, and Yara waited with bated breath for him to respond. Then he sighed and sat up once more. “We have a canto in the Qun: ‘There is no chaos in the world, only complexity. Knowledge of the complex is wisdom, and from wisdom of the world comes wisdom of the self. Mastery of the self is mastery of the world. Loss of the self is the source of suffering. Suffering is a choice, and we can refuse it. It is in our own power to create the world, or destroy it.’”

Yara grimaced. “You’ll have to say that one again for me.”

Sten recited the saying a second time. Yara frowned pensively, and for a long minute, they just stared at each other in silence while she thought. 

“So… when we found you in that cage in Lothering,” she said slowly. “Was that… how was that in line with what you just said? If suffering is a choice?”

He leaned away from her slightly. “You are suggesting that I was choosing to suffer.”

“Weren’t you?” she asked.

He stared at her without speaking, and Yara winced. “I’m not trying to pick on you or make you angry. I just—”

 “I am not angry,” he interrupted. “I am thinking.”

Yara nodded, and they sat silently for a while longer. Eventually Yara cleared her throat. “Were you…” She trailed off. She’d been about to ask if he was happier after he joined her, but she realized now that that question would seem foolish to him. Before she could rephrase the question, he spoke.

“When you released me from that cage, you helped me to fulfill my purpose,” he said. “You helped me to find answers in a land that harbours little wisdom. And you recovered my asala.”

She nodded and waited for him to go on, but it seemed that he was finished speaking for now. Yara recrossed her legs and shrugged. “Well, I’m happy you decided to join us.”

He looked at her carefully. “This is what being happy means to you? Having strangers follow you?”

She snorted a little laugh. “No, of course not. But I do think being happy means being with people you love. People who love you.”

His gaze sharpened, and Yara realized with a horrified jolt that she’d basically just admitted that she loved him.

He was staring at her again in that way that felt like he was seeing straight down to her bones. “And if those people go away?” he asked. “If they die or are taken from you? If they leave your side? What then?”

Friends dying or leaving or being taken away? Her breath stalled in her chest at the bluntness of his question. She thought of Tamlen and of her whole clan, and of Morrigan leaving without saying goodbye. She thought of Alistair and Zevran and Oghren, whom she’d left behind in Denerim. 

A swelling of distress filled her throat, but she refused to dwell on it. She forced herself to inhale. “I don’t know,” she said.

Sten lifted his chin slightly. “This definition of ‘happiness’ based on love is not sustainable,” he said. 

Yara scoffed and dropped his penetrating amethyst gaze. “Don’t try and tell me that qunari don’t love each other,” she said. “I don’t believe that.”

“Of course we do,” Sten said, somewhat to her surprise. “I felt love for the brothers of my beresaad. But love is not purpose for qunari.”

She shot him a resentful look. “Well, I’m not qunari.”

“I am aware of that, kadan,” he replied.

Despite his harsh words, his tone was quite soft, and so was his expression. To Yara’s horror, tears were suddenly rising as a hot wave in her throat and at the back of her eyes.

She hastily lay down and rolled onto her side facing the wall. A moment later, the yellowish light of the oil lamp went out, and she heard the shuffle of fabric as Sten lay down in his bedroll. 

She closed her eyes, and a trickle of tears ran down the side of her face into her Sten-scented pillow. She breathed silently through her mouth to quell the weight behind her ribs, and eventually she succeeded at quashing the tears back into her chest where they belonged. 

When her face was dry once more, she carefully rolled over onto her other side.

“Sten?” she said quietly. 

“Yes?” he murmured.

She took a slow breath, then asked him the question that had been building at the back of her mind for the past few days. “Do you think I should join the Qun?”

There was a heavy pause before he replied. “All bas should join the Qun. This is the only true path to wisdom.”

That’s not really an answer, she thought. And her conviction that Sten wasn’t like a typical qunari rose even higher. If he was a typical qunari citizen, he would have just said yes, wouldn’t he?

Suddenly she remembered something odd that he’d said the first time they were in Redcliffe. He’d made a snide comment about the Chantry lacking in wisdom, which Yara had found rather amusing, but he’d finished his diatribe by saying something surprising. He’d said that someday his people would bring the Qun to all of Thedas, and that he hoped he would not live to see that day. 

She sidled closer to the edge of the bed and looked down at him. In the dim moonlight filtering through the porthole window, she could see that his eyes were closed, but his brow was creased in a tiny frown. 

“Sten?” she whispered.

“Yes?” he said.

“Tell me what you think,” she said. “Do you think I would be happier if I joined the Qun?” 

He opened his eyes to look at her. “Are you happy here on this ship?” he said. “Are you happy now?”

She gazed at him through the soft pale light of the moon. His rugged face was serious as always, but… sympathetic too, somehow. There was a subtle sort of softness in his expression — a softness to his beautiful violet eyes, perhaps, and gods save her, the piercing way he was looking at her…

She licked her lips nervously. “Yes,” she said. “I’m happy now.” 

“Then perhaps for now, that is enough,” he said. He closed his eyes once more. “Sleep, kadan. We can speak more in the morning.”

She smiled. “All right,” she whispered. She settled on her side facing the edge of the bed and let out a slow, relaxed breath. 

Then, after a long hard moment of thought, she reached down and gently squeezed Sten’s shoulder. 

A moment later, his big callused hand covered her fingers.

Her belly burst into a flurry of excitement. Sten gently squeezed her fingers, then released her hand. 

She smiled to herself, then closed her eyes. A minute later, with the salty-sleepy scent of Sten’s pillow beneath her cheek and his solid shoulder beneath her palm, Yara fell asleep.

[ramblinganthropologist]

Writober 2020 - 17 (Cold)

Summary: Cahel Mahariel likes the cold... but it finds him frustrated more often that not. 

---

That night, the sky was orange.

Cahel's breath created steam as he trudged through the snow, cloak wrapped tight around him. Down the hill, his clan was sleeping through the winter night. In the morning, they would wake to the layer of white deposited on their aravels and the keeper would melt it away. Until then, the world belonged to him.

At the peak, he had a clear view of the entire area. Off in the distance, a hunter's campfire burned as a point of light in a dark forest. He heard the rustling of bare branches, the whisper of owl's wings as they too set out to hunt. All of it was quieted by the snow falling softly around him, covering the dead grass and muddy ground with pure white.

He loved nights like this. It felt clean.

Cahel sought a stump in order to look up at the sky. The fact he had to brush snow off bothered him little as he sat, curled up in his cloak. Snow began to fall on his shoulders, but he didn't mind. He was content to watch it fall, still as the world around him.

If only down below was like that.

He frowned, drawing his cloak closer. Despite the fact he was almost 18, Marethari still wasn't letting him take the final hunt to earn his vallaslin. Hunters a year younger than him already had the ink settling into their faces, but he had nothing to show for his efforts. It was frustrating, to say the least – he wasn't incompetent. In fact, the head hunter said he was one of the best archers he had seen in quite some time.

So why weren't they letting him go?

“This better not be because of ada...” he sighed, closing his eyes. “No... it's probably not because of him. Marethari promised it wouldn't be.”

But then why? He knew how to hunt, he had taken down game. They could leave him on his own and he was perfectly fine. All of that indicated he was more than ready to prove himself. Besides, it wasn't like a whole year was being held back. All those he had trained with had long since passed on, some even beginning their families. He was left behind, to glance at their footsteps and wonder when it would be his turn.

“I don't get it!”

His voice rang out on the hill, and somewhere a bird startled to life in the bush. Cahel watched it fly, frowning as he felt the cold wind against the tips of his ears. Part of him had hoped coming to watch the snow fall would help settle his nerves, but it only seemed to be making things worse. At the rate he was going, he wouldn't sleep at all.

Tomorrow was going to be rough at that rate... but it wasn't like he was doing anything important anyway.

“Shit... I just want to know why...”

His question was met not with an answer, but the crunching of feet on snow. Someone was coming up the hill at an easy pace, though they slipped once if the muffled cursing was anything to go by. The voice was familiar, and caused him to chuckle as he turned to face them.

“You're loud, lethallin.”

Tamlen had snow on his head and the knees of his leggings were wet from the snow. He ignored his friend's snickering as he came to rest on a nearby stone. When he tilted his head to glance up at the sky, the lines carved into his face seemed to match the dark sky.

Unlike Cahel, he had passed.

The thought made the apprentice hunter frown as he pulled his cloak closer. “Sorry... better here than down in the aravel, I guess.”

“Yeah, you would've been tossed on your ass for sure.” Tamlen chuckled at the thought, but then he frowned. “Usually, you like watching the snow though. What's wrong?”

Cahel sighed as his shoulders fell. “What's always wrong?”

The other elf winced in sympathy as he nodded. “Ah. Your cram-”

That earned him a glare from a rather red-faced elf who would rather not have to think about that. He still had a few weeks before he was suffering. Better to not mention it and bring it early. For all they knew, the gods were listening and ready to spite him.

Tamlen was, as always, good at reading that look. “Ah. Not that.”

“Not that.” Cahel sighed as he brushed some snow from his cloak. “Marethari still won't let me go on my hunt.”

Part of him knew he sounded like a sulking child when he said it like that. After all, he wasn't the first elf to meet 18 without his vallaslin. But he was the first actually competent one in quite some time, at least by his calculations. Other hold-backs often didn't know their ass from an arrow, to say the least. That didn't make him feel any better though... in fact it only made his mood darker.

Tamlen frowned at the info. “You asked her again?”

“Before dinner, yeah.” He shrugged. “She said I wasn't ready and that I needed to wait.”

That made Cahel stand as frustration propelled him to his feet. “How am I NOT ready, though? You've seen me in action, I can do it!”

Part of him wanted to just march down to Marethari's aravel and demand she tell him what the holdup was. He didn't, though. That wouldn't exactly help his case if he was acting like a child about things. Besides, she might blast him out onto the snow, and then where would he be? He liked not being on fire, thank you very much.

It was still tempting though...

“I know you are, it's weird...” Tamlen frowned. “Perhaps she wants you to wait until spring?”

“She said no last spring.” Cahel ticked the rejections off his fingers. “And summer. And fall. I ask her every season and she keeps telling me I'm not ready. You think she would at least tell me how I could become ready, I'm no good to anyone stuck back in camp!”

Well, he was good for watching the small kids and baby halla when he wasn't helping the hunting teacher. When it came down to it, he was becoming quite the errand boy. Cold fear struck his stomach at the thought that Marethari might have been preparing him for that... but then he let it go as soon as it came. After all, if that was true she would've stopped him from hunting. You didn't exactly need an errand boy to pull a bow properly.

But that was the last of his explanations, so there wasn't much else he had in mind.

Tamlen watched his antics and shook his head. “I don't know, then.”

“That's the problem, I don't know.” Cahel plopped back onto his stump, sighing a cloud of steam as his ears drooped. “Creators, I hate this...”

Tamlen left his rock at his words. The elf soon joined him on the stump, close enough to touch. It was at least a little warmer now, though the wind was still chill as it blew across the hill top. Down below, the campfire flickered. Hopefully the hunter had success...

“You'll get it, I know you were.” Briefly, their hands met and squeezed together. It was something new they had started, something unsure in their routine. Cahel's face heated up as he saw Tamlen's gaze on him. The look in his eyes was new too, and something about it excited him in a way nothing else ever had. “I'll be the first one to congratulate you when you do.”

He smiled, briefly. “Thanks, Tam.”

“No problem...” he paused, looking back down the hill. “Now... can we go back to the aravel? It's cold out here, and we're going to catch a cold at this rate.”

Now it was Cahel's laughter that rang out into the darkness as he stood, brushing the snow from his cloak. “Alright, we can go back. Can't have the mighty hunter freezing to a stump.”

Together, hands still laced, they started back down the hill to the waiting aravel. No doubt the next morning was going to be messy and tiresome, but at least he felt a little better. Doubts still ate at his mind, but... he felt like he was going to be able to sleep.

So... bring on the errands come morn, he supposed.

---

Even in Amaranthine, the snow laid thick.

“What the hell are you even doing out here?”

Miris' nose sounded stuffed up as they walked along the top of the fort. It was a dark night, and the snow falling turned the sky above their heads orange. Down below, Vigil's Keep was quiet. In the morning, they'd have to do some shoveling.

That he'd give to someone else. He hated shoveling.

Cahel kept his cloak close as he walked along the stones. “I like being out when the snow's falling. The world looks clean.”

A good cleaning was exactly what it needed after the Blight. They were still finding remnants of the horde in pockets of Ferelden that they had to put down and burn before someone got tainted. The land still bore the scars, especially at Denerim. They would be rebuilding for months, maybe years, before things were back to normal.

Yet... somehow, they had won.

Cahel stopped to stare over the wall. In the distance, he saw Amaranthine and the Waking Sea beyond it. At the distance he was at, it looked like a pane of dark glass reflecting the snowy sky above. Something about it was strangely peaceful, as if the world had gone to bed.

“That still doesn't answer why you're up here. You could see the snow from anywhere in Vigil's Keep.”

Miris and Stumpy were back a ways, surveying the area. Technically, neither should have been on night duty thanks to the warrior's poor eyesight. The problem was that they were stretched a little thin at the moment, so it was all hands on deck.

Cahel shrugged. “Figured I should relieve you. You're night blind.”

“Among other things.” Miris looked relieved, however. He picked up his maul, laying it across his shoulder. “Thanks... I'll cover your morning shift for you. Don't let anything kill us while we sleep, Commander Squirt.”

The rogue rolled his eyes as he settled onto the wall. “Can do, Senior Warden Cyclops.”

There was no barb to their words at this point – they were too close for that now. It happened when  you slayed an Archdemon together and lived to tell the tale. That of course didn't mean they stopped teasing each other – that would be bizarre. But, it was friendly now. Mostly.

Miris and his dog disappeared down the stairs, leaving Cahel to the sky. His breath came out in a fog of steam as he stared out at the ground below. Without the moon, he wasn't sure what time it was. Probably after midnight, but other than that he was lost.

“Well... here I am again, watching the sky.”

Cahel wasn't sure who was talking to – it certainly wasn't his dog. Tamlen was in the capital city, trying to bolster their mabari numbers. He had no other company other than the torch and the snow, and neither of those could respond to his words.

But he said it anyway, as he looked down at the necklace hanging from his neck. He had gotten it half a year prior attempting to save someone who didn't deserve it in the slightest. Not that it mattered- Eamon's days were numbered by a number of assassins – but he had promised Alistair he would try. After that, the man was on his own.

Tamlen, the real Tamlen, had been there, but not there at the same time. After all, Cahel hadn't been able to touch him, or to hold him one last time. His ghost, maybe, had given the necklace to him as they stood in the gauntlet. A lifetime had passed between them in those few moments before he smiled and faded away, never to be seen.

It had been good to see him, especially after...

Cahel still didn't like thinking about that. He tried his best to block it out, but the memories still leaked through in the quiet of the night. Something had needed to replace the Archdemon eating him, he supposed. They were getting less by the day, but sometimes they still got to him. It had gotten to him that night – it was why he was awake.

“I still don't have my vallaslin, you know. Found out why – Marethari wanted to make me a clan guardian.” He laughed at the empty air. “Can you imagine that, me a warrior? The armor weighs more than I do.”

Nobody was there to answer his laughter. There was just the cold air and the soft snow falling all around him. Cahel watched it, sighing as he pulled his cloak closer. Day by day, he was getting over it. Maybe it wouldn't hurt so much in time.

Or maybe it would always hurt a little. Some wounds did.

“I miss you, Tam.”

His ears lowered as he stared across the snowy landscape. “Hope you're alright, wherever you are. It would suck if you were stuck in the Gauntlet.”

If the gods were kind, Tamlen was somewhere warm and safe. That's all he could hope for as he watched the snow fall on Vigil's Keep. If he couldn't be there, may he be somewhere he could no longer be hurt. That all he could ask for, though he doubted they heard his pleas.

“Stay safe, lethallin.”

He sighed once more and allowed himself to fall into the routine of watching from the top of the Keep. Come morning, he was going to have to find someone to shovel it all up, but that was when morning broke. Until then, he was content to watch the snow.

[bleeding-star-heart]

The Dragon Age: Origins Starting Companions, as rated by my older sister and I

1. Gorim (Dwarf Noble). Gorim is Best Boy. He stands by you to the very end, even when you’re about to be executed for murder. The only reason he even leaves is because he’s forced to leave. Although if you choose to be in a romance with him, he DOES end up marrying another woman, but he only did that because, through being forced to die at the hands of darkspawn, YOU left HIM. 

2. Shianni (City Elf) My sister had nothing to say about Shianni, but I personally found her annoying. 

3. Soris (City Elf) and Ser Gilmore (Human Noble) They’re tied for this position because they’re both kind of boring and don’t get enough screentime to develop as characters. 

4. Tamlen (Dalish Elf). Tamlen is number four because unlike Jowan lower down the list, he’s actually kind of badass. Although he is kind of bloodthirsty when it comes to humans, which personally put my sister off. Also, he is REALLY stupid, touching things he should never have touched, and getting himself sick in the process. 

5. Leske (Dwarf Commoner). I personally originally would have tied him with Jowan, but Jowan is...well, you’ll see how bad he is later on. That doesn’t mean he’s off the hook, though, because Leske is no picnic. Leske is the DEFINITION of a fair-weather friend. You see, when you go back to Orzammar later in the game and are ordered to eliminate the Carta leader, you discover that Leske straight-up betrayed you to the Carta leader, Jarvia. To the point where he tries to have you murdered. And he was your best friend back when the PC was in the Carta. Also, before this, during the origin, he makes creepy, lecherous comments about the PC’s sister Rica, and YOU DO NOT TALK ABOUT PRECIOUS RICA THAT WAY YOU PERV! 

Also, if you do the Andraste’s Ashes quest before Orzammar, his ghost has the GALL to make you feel guilty! Yes, you can actually feel guilty about betraying this little traitor, and then you can go to Orzammar and start the chain of events revealing what a little turd he is. 

And now...(drum roll)

6. Jowan (Mage). I originally would have tied him with Leske, considering that they are both little shits, but my sister pointed out that Leske, while a little shit, only betrays you to Jarvia because the going got tough thanks to circumstances relatively beyond his control. 

     Jowan, on the other hand...is the direct cause of the going getting tough for the PC. As my sister said, he is not even a fair-weather friend. Things were actually going pretty well for the PC before Jowan’s little series of quests: the PC had just become a full wizard, earned everyone’s admiration for completing the Harrowing in record time, and even the first enchanter respected you. 

        Then, Jowan begs you to help him destroy his phylactery, which is this vial of blood that the authorities can use to track rogue wizards.  He asks this because he’s in a forbidden romance with a priest named Lily, and he’s about to have his emotions and powers stripped from him because the higher-ups believe he’s a blood mage. This is an accusation he fervently denies if you press him on it, which you should keep in mind for later.

      And of course, the PC cannot refuse, because the game won’t progress if you do. Not only can you not refuse, you also have to do most of the dirty work in getting a rod of fire to melt the locks on the repository door, where Jowan’s phylactery is. Then, once you succeed in your little break-in and destroy Jowan’s phylactery, when you break out, you get caught. Naturally, the authorities are not approving of this adventure, and accuse Lily of working with a blood mage and threaten to send her to DA:O’s equivalent of Azkaban. 

    Not wanting his lady love to go to prison, Jowan thus chooses this exact time to bust out the blood magic. Yes, you read that right. The exact same time of magic the authorities accused him of doing, the magic he directly denied doing if you questioned him about it. 

   Jowan then admits that he totally did the blood magic to a horrified Lily, because he believed it would make him a better mage.  *face palm*

     There is one caveat I must make: you can betray Jowan back, if you tattle on him to the first enchanter. But even if you do, the first enchanter still insists you help Jowan anyway, for...reasons. Putting you in this exact same position regardless. 

    Regardless of what you do, Jowan gets away, and Lily, horrified at unknowingly working with a blood mage, willingly goes to Aeonar. Gregoir, he head of the templars, which are these knights with anti-magic powers, gets mad at you, exiles you from the mage tower, and is looking forward to punishing you even further.  Fortunately, you get rescued by Duncan at this time, as he conscripts you into the Grey Wardens, so no further punishment happens. Now, depending on whether you betrayed Jowan or not, the first enchanter may or may not defend you, insisting that you were acting on his orders. But still.

     Originally, I had some minor shred of sympathy for Jowan, considering the forbidden romance aspect of his problems, and the fact that in my Mage playthroughs I often end up tattling on him to Irving. But, as my sister pointed out, Jowan didn’t have to do any of the things he did. He could have chosen not to be a blood mage, he could have chosen not to have an affair with a priest.

Unlike Leske, who, like the Dwarf Commoner PC, became a gang member for economic reasons, and was forced to betray you further because of economic reasons and possible threats to his life, Jowan had enough free will that he could decide not to make the bad decisions that he did. Jowan is a spineless coward whose misfortunes, and by extension the Mage PC’s, are all his fault. 

[dirthera-blog]

how much would you hate me if i lovingly said to do all of them? : 3 do all that meme. do eet.

romance ll accepting.

ilu. u complete me.

🌟 What is my muse’s sexual/romantic orientation?

Demi on both counts, with little regard for a partner’s gender.

💦 At what age did my muse lose their virginity?

She’s in her twenties when it happens. She made it through the Blight with her virginity intact, and then honestly who knows. I have to work out a better timeline of ‘Aria’s Romantic and Sexual Conquests.’ It’ll be super easy, there’s only one feathery apostate thread to follow.

😘 Would my muse have sex on the first date?

Nope. That makes Mythal cry. Or something. Really it’s just that her orientation is incompatible with quickly getting into bed with someone.

😊 Would my muse ever ask someone on a date?

I think she’d prefer it, in fact.A chance to show off and be clever in how she asks, to try and charm the object of her affections into agreeing.

👍 Does my muse prefer to be asked on a date, or would they rather do the asking?

See above! Aria definitely prefers to do the asking, but is not put off if someone asks her first.

😉 What are my muse’s fetishes/kinks?

Answered!

💬 When did my muse go on their first date?

Sometime after the Blight, probably. She’s kind of a late bloomer about relationships, but that’s okay!

💯 What is my muse’s ideal date?

Answered!

💗 Has my muse ever been in love?

Answered!

👠 What was my muse’s last serious relationship like?

Childhood friends and partners in crime growing into that couple everyone thought would have happily ever after. Just because she and Tamlen never quite made it into romantic commitment does not mean their feelings weren’t serious. There are reasons Ashalle implies she thought the two of them might one day be together in full.

👰 Would my muse ever get married?

The Wardens say no, but her own desires and her culture say yes. She’s not above eloping just to make that commitment where certain duties demand she surrender the opportunity to do so. Even if it’s just she and her partner making their own vows, without anyone else around, it would be good enough for her with the right partner – like Anders in Discord RP.

🌼 Would my muse prefer a big wedding or a small wedding?

Small. Please, everything she does is a spectacle, let her have some understated wedding be it with just the person she loves or their loved ones.

🍬 Is my muse a sub, dom, or switch?

Switch, though she has a slight preference for letting her partner be more in control.

🏩 What was my muse’s first time like?

As soon as I know anything myself, you guys will be the first to know.

🎆 Is my muse into monogamy?

Absolutely. I’m not saying it would be an end all be all for her, if both she and a lover can agree to open things up a little to allow in a third partner, but I don’t think it’s anything she really thinks about. Monogamy is just her default.

💕 Would my muse ever be in a polyamorous relationship?

If the right person came along and both she and her initial partner felt strongly enough, sure, but the newcomer would have to be really extraordinary. I imagine the Dalish might have been a little looser with the idea of polyamory than a lot of societies seen in-game, given their dwindling numbers, so Aria’s only real hesitation is her own personal preference.

🔥 Would my muse ever be up for a threesome?

Going by the same disclaimers as above about her own reservations, sure.

👮 Has my muse ever had sex in public?

I’m not saying it’s unlikely, I’m just saying a lot of her sex life is a big old question mark at this stage. I think as long as no one was around she might get a kick out of screwing somewhere more public, but I don’t know that she’s actually ever done it.

💔 What was my muse’s first heartbreak?

Tamlen. For a long time she thought it was the cave and the mirror, the lack of closure, no body to bury, that hurt her the most.That was before he found his way back to her, there at the end.

💑 What are my muse’s requirements for a potential partner?

Someone brave, someone who also works or speaks out against the status qup. She needs someone just as willing to defy convention and right injustices as herself – it was pretty inevitable that she end up with Anders, even if I never considered it as a ship before Rea seduced Aria with her amazing writing. So long as her partner knows how to live and isn’t a prick, she could make it work. In addition, she gravitates more towards outsiders, those who understand what it is to be a stranger in a strange land. What I’m getting at is Aria is not really an ‘Opposites Attract’ kind of girl when she looks for love, she wants someone who can complement her even when they challenge her or her notions. 

💋 How many people has my muse slept with?

One (1) bird-man apostate probably.

👀 Is my muse the type to sleep around?

Nope. Not unless some big beefy Kossith boy swept in and made her life like all of those smut novels about the months she spent in Seheron.

👎 Would my muse ever cheat on their partner?

Jokes about her inexplicable attraction to Qunari aside, never. She’s been hurt by the loss of too many people to ever hurt a partner so selfishly.

😳 What was my muse’s worst romantic/sexual relationship?

The one that never started and left her would-be boyfriend a fucking GHOUL.

💲Would my muse ever date/marry/sleep with someone because they were rich?

I mean she’s a rogue. That screams doing underhanded bullshit to get ahead. It’s practically the first thing they learn to do. So I mean, she’s not going to sleep with a mark but she might be persuaded to toy with a noble’s affections to get something out of them if the situation called for it.

👓 Would my muse ever lie for sex?

That’s gross, no.

👿 Would my muse ever blackmail someone into sex?

THAT’S GROSS, NO.

🎥 Who is my muse’s celebrity crush?

I guess in-setting this would translate to another important and well-known character in terms of setting. Most of whom are people she actually knows, which makes it all a little awkward. All she knows is if that Varric Tethras looks as good as he writes, she’s in trouble.

Yes, she has never seen Our Father of Hot Dwarves, but she’s pretty sold on his writing. Creators know if the idea she has of him would ever live up to the Dwarf, the Myth, the Legend.

🎀 Who would my muse sleep with if nobody ever had to know?

The Arishok. Any Arishok. Just for bragging rights. Just as long as we’re entertaining what ifs that will never come to be.

💍 Has my muse ever had a one-night stand?

No, and likely never will.

💝 Does my muse like Valentine’s Day?

The Dalish have no equivalent, so she’s not entirely sure what to make of any other culture’s holiday that might correspond to our Valentine’s Day. Why not just show every day how much you love someone? Shemlen are baffling.

💘 What are the ways my muse says ‘I love you’ without actually saying it? 

I like to think a lot of it is what’s shown in game – being there for others, helping them with their problems, giving people things that make her think of them. She shows her love more through care than the word itself, always supporting the people who are important to her and offering a sympathetic ear. There’s also this part of her where if she does love you, she’s more honest with you, even a touch snarky. She doesn’t have to put up a wall with those she loves. That, however, might be trickier to discern unless someone has known her a while.

Basically, if she treats you as a member of her community, she’s giving you love.

[wyrdsistersofthedas]

Cloak and Shadows

Hey buddies!  Hey friends!  Hey pals!  That (↑) is fucking Falon’Din, my dudes!! (So says Artemis.  So say we all.)

The Wyrd Sisters of Thedas and others believe that the figure depicted in the Mark Darrah tweet is Falon’Din, the elven god of the dead, and that he will play a major role in Dragon Age 4.  He may even be the true big bad of the next installment of the franchise.

Want to know more?  Equip your tinfoil hats and follow us below the cut....

In our last post, we Sisters Wyrd were rather confused by the final image Mark Darrah posted.  On first glance, all of the Wyrds thought it was a figure shrouded in black.  When @the-tale-of-the-champions said that @the-queen-of-thedas thought it was Falon’Din (and we highly recommend looking at how she came to this conclusion as well as subsequent posts), the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place.  Before we even had time to look up her theory, I had pulled up an image that took our breath away.  The figure seems to be wearing a mask that is startlingly similar to the one of Falon’Din’s statues in the Temple of Sacred Ashes.  

So why wear a mask? There seems to be an artistic tradition of the Evanuris dressing up their godliness with masks or elaborate headdresses that might have mimicked their favored magical forms.  

June

Elgar’nan (Doesn’t he look like a dragon? Or it just us?)

Fen’Harel’s true face is never seen in the representations we have of the pantheon, likely due to his rebel status.

Now compare the masked statue from the beginning of the post with these freaky ass statues with the fancy dos:  

In the Dalish Origin, Tamlen identified the side figures as being the “Friend of the Dead”, Falon’Din.  (The central figure has not been identified definitively.  I’ve always thought it was Dirthamen due to the similar appearance to Falon’Din, but there is no 100% proof in the lore as far as I know.)

What is interesting is how similar these figures are to statues of Mythal in her temple.  

A visual throwback or recall to the Dalish Origin.  Notice the mask or helmet depicted covering her face?  It is not the same as the one in the Darrah image, but shows one type of iconography that was associated with the elven gods.  (Interestingly, the other elven goddess are not portrayed masked, at least so far.  Maybe.  There are some images that might depicted them masked or helmeted like Mythal, but that will have to be a post for another day.)  

 So what does this mean?  In our opinion, there is a distinct possibility that the Dread Wolf will not be the only Evanuris in Dragon Age 4.

In previous posts, the Sisters expressed the view that the next big bad of Thedas might not be the Dread Wolf, but rather the “Friend” of the Dead, Falon’Din.  Our DA developers love a little sleight of hand, setting us up to think that we will be combating one problem/antagonist in the game only to find out that there is a totally different foe we have to face: Loghain must be defeated before the Blight.  Anders setting in motion the endgame for DA2 leading to the Mage-Templar War.  Heading into Inquisition the Wyrds were pretty sure this pattern would continue and, sure enough, Corypheus stepped up.  You could even argue the revelation that Solas set the whole thing in motion by giving Cory his orb is yet another instance of pulling back the veil (ha ha) to reveal larger forces at work.  

We think this may be another misdirection.  Certainly Solas will undoubtedly be a main focus of the game, but we doubt how we go about addressing his plans for elvendom and the Veil will be anything but a simple situation. The Dread Wolf has demonstrated he is far too powerful to go toe to toe with, as Viddasala and her Qunari followers found out.  So where will the next protagonist of Dragon Age look for the power to defeat a being with god-like powers?  Another “god”, perhaps?

Whether the hero has to become as powerful as Solas of if they have to discover ways to dismantle his magics, we will need to know everything we can about the ancient elvhen and their Evanuris.  

Solas certainly seems to have strong feelings about Falon’Din and his attitude towards elvhenan.  

A showdown between the elven gods seems inevitable.  Add all this information together and we think there is a strong possibility that Falon’Din is the figure Mark Darrah tweeted. 

There have been hints from the very beginning of Origins, long before Fen’Harel awoke, that dark forces were already at work in Thedas (See our Pre-Tres post: Thedas is on the Brink).  Falon’Din or his agents may already be players in the game.  Consider that the first elven god you “meet” in all of the Dragon Age games is Falon’Din.  And the lore about him even gets a cut-scene.  Suggestive!

Could the Evanuris have active agents working on their behalf in Thedas, just like Felassan did for Solas?  It certainly seems likely.  If his agent’s and Mythal’s could sleep for thousands of years, the guardians of the other Evanuris might have as well.  In fact we may have caught a glimpse.  Or Tamlen did...

Where did Tamlen go?  And what did he see in the eluvian?  I’ve thought about this until I felt like a mabari chasing its tail.  Could it have been the archdemon in some part of the Deep Roads?  Possible, but I keep coming back to something very weird about this ruin.  The only way to enter it is through the eluvian.  All the other “entrances” were broken through the walls and not actual doors.  You were meant to enter the temple from the eluvian.  And what is the first thing a worshipper would see when they entered that temple through the elvuian?  Falon’din.  Greeting his followers with arms wide open.

That temple was almost certainly dedicated to him, and it’s purpose was likely to provide a ceremonial resting place for those entering uthenera.  The fact that this sanctuary of his had been broken into from the outside and the eluvian activated is a sign, perhaps, that forces have been seeking him since the Fifth Blight.  And wherever that eluvian originates from is likely extremely tainted with the blight that it infected the mirror.  (Again, that seems so suggestive.  Some might argue that the darkspawn tainted the temple and the mirror around the time of the Fifth Blight, but I think it is more likely they were drawn to it when Tamlen went through it and the power it pulsed when Mahariel was knocked away was felt by the darkspawn.)  

Powerful forces seem to be at work in Thedas.  So many references to Falon’Din throughout the series we believe point to the Friend of the Dead being a major player in the future.

Mythal said a reckoning that would shake the heavens was coming.  Evanuris, Titans, Tevinter and Qunari.  DA4 is going to be a hell of a game!

-MM 

(I have so many thoughts about Falon’Din and Dirthamen, Ghilan’nan and the Sinner.  Hope to show it too you soon!)

[bugswarm]

Dragon Age II - a short summary

Hawke: damn we managed to escape from hell in Lothering now things will get better.

Ogre: well think again motherfucker

Hawke's sibling: don't worry people I'll protect ya'll.

Hawke's sibling: *dies*

Wesley: don't worry people I'm a templar I'm hella jacked I got this.

Wesley: *dies miserably*

Flemeth: hey losers I just saved your fat asses by turning into a dragon I already did that in the previous game.

Hawke: we lost two of us why didn't you come sooner?

Flemeth: you're fucking welcome

Flemeth: so bring this thing to this elf please

Hawke: why

Flemeth: bitch don't make me turn into a dragon again

---

Hawke: finally we arrived in Kirkwall now things will get better.

Gamlen: well think again motherfucker

Leandra: shit bro we rich where all da money at?

Gamlen: I've got a problem ok you future zombie bitch

---

Hawke: well a year passed I'm not gonna say that things will get better because last time I said that shit went down real quick

Varric: *impales someone for no reason* yo join me and my useless brother in a very risky spedition in the deep roads there will probably be no reward at all

Hawke: where do I sign

---

Aveline: hey what's up I'm a city guard now.

Hawke: who the fuck are you?

Aveline: shit we met one year ago before the ogre my husband is dead rude

Hawke: fuck me I forgot to mention you in the first part of this post sorry girl

Aveline: I'm unromanceable

---

Fenris: I'm trying to escape to my former master he is a mage

Hawke: cool bro cool

Fenris: I hate mages

Hawke: got it

Fenris: no like seriously if you support mages I'll kill you like forreal dough

Hawke: no prob homie

---

Varric: Hawke we need some maps for that spedition I know a guy who got them.

Anders: yo I'm the map guy I also am mage and hate templars

Hawke: you look like you're gonna fuck shit up in the ending you know that

Anders: I hate templars they're evil.

Hawke: k

Anders: don't trust them or else I'm going to do something really really stupid

Hawke: I got you

Anders: I'm going to do something really stupid anyway tho

---

Isabela: fuck me

Hawke: yoooo

---

Hawke: shit I forgot I had to give this shitty medallion to that shitty elf for that shitty dragon bitch a year passed I better hurry

Marethari: thanks bring it up that mountain it's dangerous tho someone might die.

Marethari: Merrill you're going you little ungrateful shit.

Merrill: bitch you always put me in danger first with Tamlen and Mahariel now this I'm gonna call some hella sick demon to ruin this clan you'll fucking see

Merrill: just joking I love y'all that's why I use blood magic and I'm trying to restore a big ass mirror I'm not even sure what it does actually

Hawke: you're prettier than what you were in Origins

Merrill: is this a compliment

Hawke: *delivers medallion*

Flemeth: yo whassup bitches *turns into a dragon and flies off into the sunset*

Hawke: majestic

---

Varric: so the spedition started here we are in the deep roads now

Varric: hey nice red lyrium idol

Bartrand: yeah really nice I'm taking it

Bartrand: I'm also leaving you here later assholes

Hawke: well shit

---

Hawke: here we are in Kirkwall again now things will get better.

Arishok: *inarticulate yelling*

Arishok: *acts like a bitch*

Arishok: *starts a war*

Hawke: I should stop saying that

Isabela: well I think that's my fault bc I stole some qunari relic

Isabela: my bad *leaves*

Hawke: Isabela what the actual fuck

Fenris: I managed a duel between you and that giant unbeaten Arishok

Fenris: that's way better than all of us and Kirkwall's army fightning against six or seven qunaris I think

Hawke: who asked you

Isabela: hello friends I'm back

Hawke: Isabela you slut turn that book rn

Isabela: chill

Arishok: I'm taking the woman too

Hawke: no you're not you ugly horned owl

Arishok: *dies*

Qunari: we're leaving bye

---

Hawke: ok I ended a war what now

Meredith: what about another war lol

Hawke: why me

Orsino: Hawke templars are big fat meanie help us

Meredith: Hawke mages are out of control help us

Anders: don't worry people I got just a fine solution

Anders: *blows chantry up*

Hawke: fuCK

Sebastian: kill Anders

Hawke: where do you even come from?

Orsino: we will resist 'till the end!

Orsino: nah I changed my mind better turn into a living nightmare and kill everybody

Hawke: yeah sure why not

Meredith: blood magic is bad so I'll use a magic red lyrium artifact to destroy everything.

Hawke: seems legit

---

Cassandra: so it's over but we need Hawke now where is that fucker there is another fricking war coming

varric: idk lol

[feedthemuse]

Dragon Age II - a short summary

Hawke: damn we managed to escape from hell in Lothering now things will get better.

Ogre: well think again motherfucker

Hawke's sibling: don't worry people I'll protect ya'll.

Hawke's sibling: *dies*

Wesley: don't worry people I'm a templar I'm hella jacked I got this.

Wesley: *dies miserably*

Flemeth: hey losers I just saved your fat asses by turning into a dragon I already did that in the previous game.

Hawke: we lost two of us why didn't you come sooner?

Flemeth: you're fucking welcome

Flemeth: so bring this thing to this elf please

Hawke: why

Flemeth: bitch don't make me turn into a dragon again

---

Hawke: finally we arrived in Kirkwall now things will get better.

Gamlen: well think again motherfucker

Leandra: shit bro we rich where all da money at?

Gamlen: I've got a problem ok you future zombie bitch

---

Hawke: well a year passed I'm not gonna say that things will get better because last time I said that shit went down real quick

Varric: *impales someone for no reason* yo join me and my useless brother in a very risky spedition in the deep roads there will probably be no reward at all

Hawke: where do I sign

---

Aveline: hey what's up I'm a city guard now.

Hawke: who the fuck are you?

Aveline: shit we met one year ago before the ogre my husband is dead rude

Hawke: fuck me I forgot to mention you in the first part of this post sorry girl

Aveline: I'm unromanceable

---

Fenris: I'm trying to escape to my former master he is a mage

Hawke: cool bro cool

Fenris: I hate mages

Hawke: got it

Fenris: no like seriously if you support mages I'll kill you like forreal dough

Hawke: no prob homie

---

Varric: Hawke we need some maps for that spedition I know a guy who got them.

Anders: yo I'm the map guy I also am mage and hate templars

Hawke: you look like you're gonna fuck shit up in the ending you know that

Anders: I hate templars they're evil.

Hawke: k

Anders: don't trust them or else I'm going to do something really really stupid

Hawke: I got you

Anders: I'm going to do something really stupid anyway tho

---

Isabela: fuck me

Hawke: yoooo

---

Hawke: shit I forgot I had to give this shitty medallion to that shitty elf for that shitty dragon bitch a year passed I better hurry

Marethari: thanks bring it up that mountain it's dangerous tho someone might die.

Marethari: Merrill you're going you little ungrateful shit.

Merrill: bitch you always put me in danger first with Tamlen and Mahariel now this I'm gonna call some hella sick demon to ruin this clan you'll fucking see

Merrill: just joking I love y'all that's why I use blood magic and I'm trying to restore a big ass mirror I'm not even sure what it does actually

Hawke: you're prettier than what you were in Origins

Merrill: is this a compliment

Hawke: *delivers medallion*

Flemeth: yo whassup bitches *turns into a dragon and flies off into the sunset*

Hawke: majestic

---

Varric: so the spedition started here we are in the deep roads now

Varric: hey nice red lyrium idol

Bartrand: yeah really nice I'm taking it

Bartrand: I'm also leaving you here later assholes

Hawke: well shit

---

Hawke: here we are in Kirkwall again now things will get better.

Arishok: *inarticulate yelling*

Arishok: *acts like a bitch*

Arishok: *starts a war*

Hawke: I should stop saying that

Isabela: well I think that's my fault bc I stole some qunari relic

Isabela: my bad *leaves*

Hawke: Isabela what the actual fuck

Fenris: I managed a duel between you and that giant unbeaten Arishok

Fenris: that's way better than all of us and Kirkwall's army fightning against six or seven qunaris I think

Hawke: who asked you

Isabela: hello friends I'm back

Hawke: Isabela you slut turn that book rn

Isabela: chill

Arishok: I'm taking the woman too

Hawke: no you're not you ugly horned owl

Arishok: *dies*

Qunari: we're leaving bye

---

Hawke: ok I ended a war what now

Meredith: what about another war lol

Hawke: why me

Orsino: Hawke templars are big fat meanie help us

Meredith: Hawke mages are out of control help us

Anders: don't worry people I got just a fine solution

Anders: *blows chantry up*

Hawke: fuCK

Sebastian: kill Anders

Hawke: where do you even come from?

Orsino: we will resist 'till the end!

Orsino: nah I changed my mind better turn into a living nightmare and kill everybody

Hawke: yeah sure why not

Meredith: blood magic is bad so I'll use a magic red lyrium artifact to destroy everything.

Hawke: seems legit

---

Cassandra: so it's over but we need Hawke now where is that fucker there is another fricking war coming

varric: idk lol