#taran answers

[amalasdraws]

me when i see that pic of tao giving aran a buzz cut: 😳😳😳

Aren’t they cute together???

[nobodyexpectstheinquisition]

Hi! 6 or 14 for the Rook Story Time asks, if you want!

6.) Rook is severely injured

“Ow… kaffas,” Janus wheezed, lying flat on his back. His vision of the bright blue Hinterland sky obscured by the river of blood flowing into his eyes.

“Janus! Are you alright?!” Hira cried somewhere above his horns.

“Hnnngggghhh…” Janus moaned in response, which was all the answer anybody needed to know how he was doing.

“Just hang on! I’ve still got most of a healing potion left in my bag!” He could hear the sounds of rustling paper and the tinkling of glass his friend rummaged frantically through her backpack. “Sorry, but I’m out of mana, so this will have to do.”

He felt the edge of a flask being pushed against his lips and drank, sighing in relief as the worst of the pain eased and his wounds began to close. “S’alright. I’m out too,” Janus managed to grit out after a moment. “Spent it trying to keep my insides in.” He grimaced when he moved and a bolt of pain shot through him. “Maker, what is wrong with the animals in this country?! First the druffalo that chased us halfway across the valley and now this!” He blinked as some of the blood was wiped out of his eyes with a handkerchief. “That bear wasn’t a normal bear. I set it on fire and still it kept coming!”

“Hush now,” Hira said, her face pale. “The others will be back with reinforcements very soon.”

Janus grumbled, but silenced himself after a muttered, “… Hate this place.”

Hira wasn’t wrong. No less than a half hour later a group of eight Imquisition agents (twice the amount that had gone to get help) returned with a field stretcher.

“Shit, he’s really messed up!” a female voice said.

“Is he even going to make it back to camp?” asked another.

“We have to at least try to save him,” a male voice replied. “Let’s grab him and get moving!”

It took five humans to roll his heavy qunari arse onto the stretcher and all eight of them to lift it. Janus squeezed his eyes shut as the wooden frame creaked threateningly under his weight. Praying to the Maker that the flimsy thing that clearly built for humans didn’t break before they even made it a quarter mile.

“Alright, let’s go! Double time!” the man shouted.

He felt a smaller hand take his as they began to move. “I’m right here, Janus. Don’t go to sleep. Keep talking to me,” Hira said.

Janus felt a lump form in his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut as tears sprang to his eyes. I wish my family was here, he thought�� but they weren’t, and he had no one to blame but himself for that. “What should I say?”

Hira probably didn’t have anything in mind when she told him to talk because it took a minute before she said, “Tell me all your favourite things about Qarinus.”

Thankfully, that was pretty much a never-ending list.

*********

“How did I not know about this?” Taran asked, after he’d finally gathered the courage to ask about the claw shaped scars on Janus’ face as they sat in the kitchen at the Lighthouse. “At the time, I mean.”

Janus shrugged. “You were the Inquisitor. Pretty sure you had far more pressing concerns than one of Leliana’s agents getting mauled by a bear.”

“Maybe, but I could have at least shown up at your bedside and said: ‘thank you for everything you’ve done for us, sorry you nearly died!’”

“Sure, but you had thousands of people under your command. Did you really have the time to go visit everyone who was injured in the Inquisition’s service?”

“No…” Taran murmured, slumping a little in his chair. “I still wish I could’ve, though.”

Janus waved off the elf’s concern. “It’s fine, Taran. I knew the Inquisition was grateful then and I know you appreciate it personally now. Besides, I knew the risks when I joined up. Well, maybe I didn’t know about the insanely tough and bloodthirsty Ferelden bears specifically… but you get the idea.”

Taran snorted. “You know, one of my ‘disciples’ had to shoot a mini-cannon at one to stop it from dragging me out of a tree and ripping me a new arsehole.”

Janus laughed. “No shit? You’ve got to tell me that story.”

“Alright, then. So, we were walking through the Hinterlands just south of Fort Connor near that giant Avvar statue…”

[gingersnaptaff]

☁️🍦🍄?

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?

Basically, I'm ginger and a taff (Welsh person. Technically, I'm a Gog which is a Walian but my buds called me it in uni and it sort of stuck.)

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate

I hate Tristan in Arthurian BUT equally, I do think the fact that he's excellent at music, stupid because he used his name backwards as a disguise, and also just really loves Isolde, are all really cool.

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

Headcanoning that Taran and Eilonwy from the Chronicles of Prydain show their affection by ripping the piss out of each other. Also when they want to get away from royal duties they go to a little farm that they own.

[lomakes]

who is Taran and what is the soul sword? Are those hands souls?

(is so excited to talk abt him rn dhbdb)

Taran is the main character in a fantasy story I'm working on! He becomes the bearer of the soul sword which is like Excalibur inspired magical chosen sword type thing that when it choses a hero it servers the soul from the body and takes it within the sword giving the hero powers but also limitations. The eyes and hands are to represent all the previous 'chosen ones' souls who stay trapped in the sword after their deaths to act as mentors to the next bearer

[cockamamieschemes]

5, 18, 19, 26!

5. If you could make only one of your OCs popular/known, who would it be?

Probably Ariadne?? She's got a really fun sense of style, and I love drawing all her outfits and hairdos. She's also the sort of heroine that I like seeing that doesn't compromise her femininity while also being a leader, and we need more of that tbh 😌

18. Any OC crackships?

The Demagogue and Xi. Let's just say it's a good thing that there's a couple hundred years separating their stories, otherwise they'd get together and burn the galaxy down 8'D

19. Introduce an OC that means a lot to you (and explain why)

Lon started out as a very VERY side character in the WIP before I started to get to know him more, and entwined his story and goals with the main cast; he's more of a main character now because of that. He's pretty important to me since he's one of my most relatable characters--at least for myself!--who struggles with feelings of inadequacy and helplessness that can make him spiral if he doesn’t talk it out with people who care about him...which is true for me too :')

26. Have you ever had to change your OC’s design or something else about them against your will?

Probably Taran/Tau, at least when I was redesigning the old character I was basing him off of! He was looking too much like a Corvan sibling at first, so I had to change his hair color from dark to copper. I was on the fence at first, but it's grown on me since! (initial design below, before I took the volume away from his hair too and nixed the scar LOL)

[scvcnofswords]

❝ i hope you’re right. ❞ || taran to regin || @thedaschosen

Honestly.

So does she.

But most of life is confidence, and that more often than not means faking it, at least when you're living through and attempting to combat and halt a would-be god and the apocalypse.

"I'm right," Regin says firmly, crossing her arms and looking to the sky, and then looking to him. The storm that's building overtop of them is snow and ice, mostly- though the rumble of thunder within it makes it clear that a warm front had collided with it overtop of Skyhold. The pair of mages are standing atop one of Skyhold's towers as the snow begins to slowly fall in massive, clumped flakes around them.

"We're going to use the storm to further your wards. Because it's real," she says, folding her arms. "Not something constructed, not an illusion. You're going to first make a ward to stop the snow from touching you- like a bubble of warmer air moving just around you in a manner like a bubble. You're going to focus that warm air on your face, your ears, your hands and feet. And then when I... Encourage the storm to release its' wind or hail, you're going to adapt. In real-time. Because no amount of scenarios I make up are gonna account for how you're going to feel in the moment. This storm isn't mine. You have to protect yourself."

And it's not that she intends on leaving him to his lonesome. If things go wrong, if this storm proves too violent or he slips up in some manner, she's here to prevent any true mishaps... But they need to try something new. He understands the theory and the concept.

He needs something realer than just fighting against the storm-fragments she's been creating and throwing at him, because every time, without fail, his wards fizzle out, his spells go awry. She could have summoned a real storm, could have created a true one-

But there's an edge, sometimes, that a truly natural scenario cannot be matched by, and she thinks perhaps that's what he needs to click.

"We're making progress. And I believe in you. We just need to make it fit right in your mind, slide that puzzle piece in correctly. Start now, and we'll get to work." She moves, then, and paints her own wards into the air around her with a twist of her hand and her will, not bothering to reach for her staff. She asks the wind and the air, coaxes it into following her wishes, until that warmer air is shielding the most vulnerable parts of herself, until the glyphs fade but the spell takes hold, an easy thing that barely drains at her mana, anymore.

"Let's see it."

[unit-zero-two]

It’s interesting to me that when Reed’s EN voice was shown off there was annoyance/disappointment from people about her not having an Irish accent. Then we get to the new event and we find out that it’s a plot point. Reed very explicitly sounds like a Victorian, not a Taran. Until she speaks/sings Taran no one knows that she’s a Taran. She’s a minority passing as the majority. She’s assimilated. Even when it’s revealed that she’s Taran, she’s still treated as separate due to the implied class privilege that allows her to speak like she does.

I love how this helps to emphasize the ongoing theme/question of the event, “What makes someone a Taran?” They talk repeatedly about how the Taran language has been widely obliterated. Their stories relegated to folk tales and avant garde art that’s seen as revolutionary. The Victorians have removed all bits of culture that makes a Taran, and spread them from their homeland through Victoria. In this situation, how could they know who else is a Taran? How could they know they’re a Taran? The Tarans have been made into an underclass with the majority of them poor. Their cultural struggle has become a class struggle and it is through this lens that many see themselves as “Taran”. Is the person who runs the factory that grinds up Taran lives for a better profit margin still Taran? What about the nobles who fund Taran art but otherwise speak the Victorian tongue, wear their clothes and otherwise ignore the plight of the Tarans? What makes Reed Taran? And how does this affect whether she’s qualified to lead the Tarans to salvation?

It also handily plays into how no one who doesn’t know to look for it doesn’t recognize her as a Draco. If Reed doesn’t call herself a Draco and own the flames inside of her, then is she still a Draco? What really makes a Draco and a Vouivre different? This event is a struggle for identity, and doesn’t really have answers to these questions. But it still provides a certainty with the path forward for our characters, and maybe that’s more important than answering these questions?

On a side note, I love the point where a character grumbles about the three stupid Vouire standing up for each other, but only one of the characters is actually a Vouivre.

[rusticfurnace]

Hi! I was wondering if you have any tips on how to learn anatomy? Any art books or videos you can recommend, maybe? Your anatomy is so so great, absolute kudos to you for that. <33

thank you!!! and to answer your question, i mostly study how artists draw anatomy! and i really recommend: taran fiddler

josh black esp this video! and tbh, i study from my mutuals on twitter too! BUT for those complicated poses, i use csp to rig the poses and lighting (if i plan to shade, that is, which is rare)

[whistlecat]

The Black Cauldron🐦‍⬛⚔️

🥀⚔️🥀 "Although an imaginary world, Prydain is not too different from our real one…Even in a fantasy realm, growing up is accomplished not without cost." - LLoyd Alexander twitt// bsky

The 2nd book is filled with much grief. But it's very important to see the changes of the characters that come to this fate and those who live on. Especially those like Ellidyr who was a rather uncouth character but the perfect foil to Taran. His harsh sacrifice and Adaon's sad fate are both two events that stay with me.

"Your horse carries a difficult burden. And so do you," Adaon said. "What burden do I carry?" cried Ellidyr, bristling. "Last night I dreamed of us all," Adaon said…."You I saw a black beast on your shoulders. Beware, Ellidyr, lest it swallow you up." "And I?" Taran asked. "What did your dream tell of me?" "You," answered Adaon, "you were filled with grief." -The Black Cauldron

twitt// bsky

[sissiarte]

10 for all the pairs and then 4 for cadash and dorian!

Yippieeeee!! Thanks Leto <3 (link to the questions)

Me reading this oh I wonder why question 4 is only for pavash... ah...

4. Have they ever been forced apart due to circumstance? How did they handle the distance?

WELL YES, yes they have fjdks

The first time Dorian leaves is hard, but manageable. After all they are both very busy, so it leaves little time to miss each other (they still do). It’s also uncertain. They still haven’t really talked about their relationship and really defined it. Yes, Taran told Dorian he wanted to be with him after it was over, and it is over, and they are still together. So that should be enough. They write to each other as frequently as they can. Taran pairs his letters with little trinkets from wherever his work takes him, and Dorian sprays a little of his perfume on his.

The second time… Oh Taran was MAD when he got the news (more about the fact that he was the last to know and all that). This I have thought about a lot and I have been pondering in my brain a fic about Tresspasser that I hope I'll write one day bc I love angst and crying 👍

Taran didn’t argue more in that moment because he had to deal with the council, but if things had gone as planned the continuation of that conversation would have been pretty ugly and I think Taran would have gotten close to break up the relationship, he was really angry. So thanks Solas I guess hfdkas.

But that wasn’t really the question, so after the whole ordeal I think both their stances changed. Dorian still wouldn’t have Taran go with him to Tevinter (actually in this he grew firmer) but he delayed his leave as much as he could. Taran on the other hand wasn’t angry anymore, and he still would go with him in a heartbeat, but he understood. They did finally talk before Dorian left and settled everything, so all the doubts are gone. But now it was harder for Dorian to leave, and although Taran had come to terms with letting him go, it still wasn’t easy. And now without all the inquisition business he had too much time on his hands hand (sorry) to miss Dorian. He still overworks himself as much as he can. The sending crystal helps, and they talk every day. They end up getting used to it, and it also makes their reunions all the sweeter. It’s not ideal, but their relationship grows stronger and they wouldn’t give it up for anything.

10. If they were picking up something special for their partner in a market what would it be? What would their partner get them?

Hawke/Anders: kinda answered Hawke's part on this one. He heard Anders had a cat and every cat thing he sees ends up in Anders' hands. But picking up something special I think it would be something to eat like a fancy and huge pastry at a bakery stall (at Hightown’s market, so you know it’s good). He's like have you eaten? Here they had these huge croissants (he overdoes the accent) at the market, they're orlessian! (I love you)

Anders gets him a horse toy. Hawke had been telling some funny childhood story and mentioned he had one he lost and cried for days about it. It doesn't look like the one he had at all, how could it. But Hawke recognizes it immediately.

Taran/Dorian: I think shiny things would remind Taran of Dorian, so he'd want to get him jewellery, but overthink it not wanting to appear shallow or like he's trying to buy his affection or something like that, so he doesn't. Untill one day he sees a small pendant that is the same icy colour as Dorian's eyes, and he can't not buy it for him. He pays more than it's worth because the merchant is selling it as a gem, and he knows it's just pretty glass, but he doesn't mind. It’s the prettiest glass. He gives it to Dorian without giving it much importance, just a “oh I saw it and thought of you, here” but he’s still taken aback and very touched.

Cadoc/Davrin: He’d take Davrin around to his favourite markets in Minrathous and buy his favourite foods for him so he could try them. They once see on an art stall a beautiful painting of Arlathan Forest and Davrin stops a bit to admire it. He goes back alone and gets it, then sneaks into Davrin’s room to hang it on a wall so he has a bit of home he can look at.

Dorian wants to give something in return for his help with retrieving his family amulet but has no idea what he would like. Taran is very austere and practical so he wants to give him something he could use, not just have. Finally while looking for books, he finds a seller that has very nice leather bound notebooks and he remembers seeing Taran carry an old one that’s falling apart where he takes his notes at meetings and stuff. He buys one that has some geometric patterns on the cover. Taran loves it so much that he never uses it because it’s too nice for just his notes and nothing is ever good enough to be written on it. He always has it at his desk.

I took a bit long I really had to think through this one (you had me googling: things you can but at markets hfjdjd) And I ended up writing a lot! I had so much fun aaa <3

After the fail with the truffle tea picnic (Cadoc insists he had a lot of fun but Davrin still fusses about it), he thinks about other ways to help him relax. Cadoc has a lot of trouble sleeping, so he ends up getting him some nice scented candles with soothing properties. He triple checks they wont get him high this time tho. The thing is he ends up sleeping more on Davrin’s room that his own. Which is good because he sleeps in an actual bed instead of his couch thing. But they also put the candles there and Davrin is also noticing it’s effects and starts oversleeping.

[elkieselkiewrites]

As per my previous post, have some family drama in dribs and drabs!

This is all the threads for one piece of drama involving the second son, Taran. I have some more about Ungus and Eithi written, and a bit on Derelei, and even a little on Luan, but they're even more fragmented, so just have Taran drama for now!

This is some 18+ content so CW for language, relatively explicit sex right off the bat, off-screen character death, and people generally being arseholes.

~*~

"You're getting fat, love." Taran said as he thrust into her, hand cupping her belly as he held her body close to him. But the flesh under his palm wasn't soft padding from a season's good eating, rather it was the hard swell of a familiar problem. He groaned, his nose in her hair, panting hard. "That had better not be what I think it is."

She gasped a humourless laugh between the snap of his hips. "Well you put it there, Taran, so if you have an issue with it, that's on you."

"Fuck, Claray, a baby? How far along are you?"

"Far enough along for you to finally notice." She said. "Oh, fuck off Taran, did that turn you on? Does it get you going, the thought of knocking me up like this?"

In lieu of an answer, Taran groaned loudly as he came, hand still cradling the swell of Claray's stomach.

"You can't be pregnant, Claray." Taran said at last, his breath still coming in haggard gasps.

"It's a bit late for that, Taran. If I'm right about when you spoiled me, I'll be due around Winter Solstice."

"I haven't even broached the topic of a second marriage with my father, there's no way he'll let us marry soon enough to get away with this."

"You'd better find a way to convince him then, because I can keep this hidden for another few months, if I'm careful, but this baby is coming whether we are wed or not, and you know how your mother feels about bastards."

"What of your father? Will he allow it?"

Claray shrugged. "I'll beg and cry if he protests, and if he refuses I suppose I'll have to tell him we married in secret already, and I'm already gone."

Taran mouthed her shoulder affectionately. "Would you marry me in secret?"

"No, Taran. It's bad enough that I won't be your First Wife, I'll not degrade myself further."

They were both quiet for a moment, their skin still cooling in the night air.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Taran said at last.

Claray rolled her eyes. "All I heard from you last year was how much you hated your existing brats, and never wanted another child. Sorry that I didn't take that to mean you'd be excited to be a father again."

"It's different with you, Claray."

"Really? Because you didn't seem all that happy when you worked it out."

"I was just surprised!"

"Taran, we've been sleeping together for the best part of a year, surely it can't be all that surprising. You already have two children, you know how it happens."

~*~

"Father, I need to speak with you about something important."

Glancing up from the table, Ungus saw Taran haunting the doorway and gestured for him to take a seat.

Taran did so, but remained silent for a moment before taking a large, steadying breath. "Father, I wish to take a second wife."

Ungus regarded him carefully. "Is there something wrong with the one you have? Ferelith has given you healthy children, she is still young and beautiful, what need have you for a second wife?"

"I married Ferelith for political reasons. I wish to marry Claray for love."

Ungus gaze sharpened under his large, fiery brows. "Claray? The High Priest's daughter?"

"Yes, exactly!" Taran replied quickly. "She's pious, well-educated, she has excellent connections, and is already familiar with court life."

"I do not think that the High Priest would allow his only daughter to be married off to a second son, let alone as a second wife."

"He would if you entreated him to. I want to marry her, Father. You always spoke about falling in love with Mother, and I never understood until I met Claray."

"If I agree to this, and I mean if Taran, it is likely the High Priest will want a full courting period, hefty betrothal gifts, the kind of pomp and circumstance that could take two seasons or more. Would that be an issue for you?"

Taran hesitated.

Ungus sighed. "Tell me you did not get a bastard on the High Priest's daughter."

"It won't be a bastard if you let me marry her."

"Salt and surf take you, boy! You have a high-born wife to give you babies, why did you go behind her back to get another woman pregnant, and why did that woman have to be the High Priest's daughter?"

"I meant to wait, to court her properly, but I saw her at the Spring Equinox celebration last year, the way the firelight caught her hair when she was dancing, I thought she was a fae creature sent to spirit me away beyond the veil."

Ungus waved him off with a large, calloused hand. "Alright, enough with the poetics. How long have you been bedding her?"

"Since the Spring Equinox last year."

"When did you knock her up?"

"Spring Equinox this year."

There was a pause. Ungus' response was dry as bone. "Taran."

"I thought it was quite romantic." Taran said weakly.

"I'd tan your hide if I thought it would make a difference, you idiot boy."

Taran felt his hackles rise. "At least I got a bastard on a woman of calibre and not a damn serving girl."

"You will not talk of your Third Mother so disrespectfully."

"Third Mother is young enough to be my daughter, Father. If Vurgist had given you grandchildren when you wanted them they'd be of an age with her. Surely you can see why Mother disapproves."

"We are not speaking of my marriage, Taran, we're speaking of yours." Ungus said, firmly. "I will agree to this, and I will agree to a bride price far exceeding what she's worth, but do not think that matter is settled. There will be consequences."

"For love?"

"For indiscretion!"

~*~

"You have poisoned my daughter!" The High Priest cried, finger wavering as he gestured towards Taran. "I see how your eye follows her and I see how her belly swells! Your seed rots inside her and the daughter I knew is dead because of it." He turned to the Lord of Isles, face just a shade off puce. "I will have recompense Ungus, or there will be hell to pay!"

"Your Grace," Taran began. "I love your daughter and would have married her a year ago if I thought we would have been allowed, but Claray told me in no uncertain terms that you would not accept my suit."

"She was correct. My daughter is a pious, well-bred girl and you have spoiled her! She should have been First Wife of a man of good standing, but you are now suggesting she be Second Wife of a rogue and a scoundrel? And I have no choice, for who will marry a woman with her leg broken above the knee?"

"Hendry," Ungus interjected. "Can we speak not as Lord and High Priest, but as father to father? I love my children, but I know they have their flaws. Taran is impulsive and romantic, to be sure, but he has offered to take responsibility for this… accident. Surely that speaks favourably of his character?"

Instead of being mollified, the High Priest laughed bitterly. "Oh, I should have expected that a man who has only recently broken the leg of his own wife's serving girl, then attempted to set it with a sham marriage, would take the boy's side. The acorn hasn't escaped the shadow of the oak, it seems."

"Remember your place, Priest." Ungus growled. "The gods you serve blessed me with these isles, and with these children, you would be best to take note of that before offering me insult."

The Lord of the Isles took a steadying breath. "Your daughter will marry my son, as is proper, and I will welcome your blood into mine through our grandchild. Your line will be as blessed as mine, Hendry, that is a good thing, is it not?"

The Priest seethed silently for a moment, calming his trembling hands.

"Claray's mother died in childbed." Hendry hissed. "If the same fate befalls my daughter I will curse your bloodline for twenty generations!"

Ungus nodded wearily. "So be it, Hendry. So be it."

~*~

The night the second wife of the second son of the Lord of the Isles died there was no deluge or great crash of thunder, the sky was clear and the wind a bare breath through the open shutters. She had laboured through all of the previous night and day, and by the time the sun had sunk once more below the serene sea it was clear that there would be no babe. By the time the sun returned, bathing the islands in a warm, golden glow, Claray and her child were dead.

The wailing grief of the High Priest was comparable only to his fury, the cold kind that could stem only from something as keen as the loss of a child. He spat curses at Taran and Ungus until his chapped lips cracked and bled. He called upon every god he served to salt the earth beneath their feet, to strike some down where they stood and keep others tethered to life only to prolong their suffering. He screamed for his daughter until his voice grew hoarse and he fell to the ground beside her body and let unconsciousness take him at last. When he awoke, he spoke no more, as though every word he had in him for the rest of his days had been spent in cursing the Lord of the Isles and all his kin.

Ungus turned away from the scene to his First Wife, silent tears brimming in her eyes, but not falling. "This is a grave loss to be sure, but he simply a grieving old man."

"No." Came a voice from behind them both. "There was power in his words. I felt it."

Looking back, Ungus could see his Third Wife, skin as pale as her hair, watching the body of her daughter-in-law in its stillness on the bed.

"Eithi, now is not the time for such superstition." Ungus replied, voice low and chiding, but Lorna stopped him with a firm hand.

"The girl speaks true, which you'd know if you weren't so removed from your roots. She is of the islands, as we once were, and she feels their power more acutely. You should trust her." Lorna turned to Eithi, her expression still stern, but softened. "What do you feel, Eithi?"

"He's old, he's been faithful to the gods most all his life. They know him, they know his words and they know his blood. They may take his life as tithe, but I believe they'll heed his call. I fear he's doomed us all."

Ungus scoffed and cried nonsense, but Lorna nodded gravely. "Gather the little ones. We'd best make our way to the temple. We'll need to beg for forgiveness before this curse takes root."

[nobodyexpectstheinquisition]

14.) Rook attends a celebration. "Alright, everyone ready?" Taran asks, adjusting the gold-plated armor and white cloak he'd dragged out for the occasion. After some thought, he'd decided to dress up as a spirit of valor for the big All Souls Day feast in Kirkwall that Varric had invited them to. When he wore a prosthetic arm crafted partly from a suit of armor on a day-to-day basis, it felt like he was already halfway there anyway.

"Are you kidding? I've been ready since I got up this morning!" Harding says, practically bouncing on the spot. The extra pair of googles she's borrowed from Manfred, as well as the maps, compass, and telescope adorning her short frame indicating that she is a spirit of adventure, or perhaps discovery.

"Same!" Bellara squeals, her jewellery jingling as she joins in the jumping. From the easel she’s holding and the mix of colours on the robe she’s wearing, Taran guesses she’s a spirit of creativity. "This is so exciting! I've never been to a formal feast before!"

Taran had been to many since he was declared the Herald of Andraste and then the Inquisitor. The novelty had worn off quickly for him. However, he didn't want to spoil things for anyone else, so he kept his opinions to himself. At any rate, this one should be a lot more fun than since Varric was the one hosting it. “Glad to hear it!”

He looks around at everyone to check anyway, though. Golden eyes moving from Emmrich (spirit of mourning), Lucanis (spirit of spite, at the insistence of Spite, he’d been informed), Davrin (also a spirit of valor), Neve (spirit of curiosity), and Taash (spirit of… ?)

“Taash… are you a dragon spirit?”  Taran asks, taking in the metal dragon helm on their head and the cape on their back that has been dyed and cut to look like wings. Well, he supposes there are spirits that choose to emulate animals - but still, its an unusual choice for the occasion.

“No. I'm Dumat," Taash says.

“Oh… as in the Old God?”

“Yep! All Soul’s Day used to be dedicated to him before the Chantry was created.”

“Taash is correct!” Emmrich chimes in. “Indeed, almost all holidays in Thedas were associated with the Old Gods. However, after the First Blight and the obviously poor associations that came with it, the purpose behind each holiday was changed from the worship of past or future Archdemons to something else. In the case of All Soul’s Day, it was repurposed as a day to remember our revered dead.” He smiles at the dragon hunter. "What an excellent homage to the celebration's origins!"

"Thanks!" Taash says brightly.

Taran suspects that the choice of costume is more likely just Taash seizing any opportunity to dress up as a dragon than anything else. No matter, though. He’s not here to enforce a dress code. Besides, it clearly makes them happy.

"Wait," he says, looking around. "Where is Janus?"

"Right here," Janus says behind him.

Taran turns, his eyes popping open and his mouth falling open in shock when he catches sight of their group's leader. The usually dark grey qunari is now pastel pink all over, a stark change which is only emphasized by the fact that Janus has forgone his usual concealing Tevinter-style plated robes for gold scaled small-clothes and a pair of gladiator sandals. His muscular torso, arms, and legs on full display.

“So, what do you think?” Janus asks, turning around to show the stuffed pink tail with the spaded tip attached sewn onto the back of his small-clothes.

“Maker…” Lucanis mutters under his breath.

“Nice,” Taash proclaims, pushing up their dragon mask to get a better look.

“Oh my!” Bellara gasps while Lace bursts into a fit of giggles and Neve lets out an amused snort.

“Uhhh…” Taran says, completely dumbstruck for a moment before he finally manages to reply. “It’s very, um… realistic?” "That's one way of putting it," Neve says, her voice coloured with amusement.

“Isn’t it, though?” Emmrich agrees, pulling at his caveat uncomfortably. “I… had no idea you were so talented at costume-making, Janus!”

“Am I supposed to be able to see your pillar and stones? Because I sorta can...” Davrin remarks, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he stares intently at Janus’ small-clothes.

Taran elbows Davrin hard in the side with his prosthetic arm, making the other elf shout in protest.

“Ow! Damn it, Lavellan!”

“Right! So, now that we’re all here, shall we going?" Janus asks, clapping his hands together before striding towards eluvian that leads to the Crossroads. “That feast isn’t going to eat itself!”

Most of the others follow Janus (Taash following especially close behind), but a few (Emmrich, Bellara, and Lace) trail behind with Taran.

“We’re… we’re not gonna get kicked out of the feast for this, right?” Bellara asks.

“Probably not?” Taran says, shrugging a bit. “I’m pretty sure Varric will just find it amusing.” As for the other nobles present… well, they would just have to cross that bridge when they came to it. "Don't worry! I’ve made it work with far worse. A scarily sexy desire demon costume isn't going to be our undoing, rest assured." He smiled at the other elf. "Have I ever told you about the Inquisition's disastrous visit to the Winter Palace?”

“Yessssss!” Lace says, pumping her fist. “I love this story!”

“Not yet, but I’d love to hear it on the way to the feast!”  Bellara says.

Taran motioned for the others to follow through the eluvian. “Right. So, after months of having our warnings intercepted, we finally manage to get an invite to a ball that the Empress would also be attending…”

[qedmirage]

Episode 14 clear!

And there we go. The climax to our Arc 2 plotline, finished. As usual, gameplay thoughts above the cut, story thoughts below. I feel like there isn't actually much to talk about with the gameplay in chapter 14. The new mechanic of Active Orignium storms is interesting at least; tiles will have Pollution, and a nasty storm that gets stronger and larger each time it touches them circles the map. Plus, some enemies benefit from being in or crossing the storm. The Beacons being used to steer the storm is neat, but the deployable beacon only shows up in 3 stages, so outside of puller/pusher strats there's not much interaction with it. There is a very cute moment in 14-1 where a large number of Originium Slugs look at the Originium Storm and just run away. An 'even speedwagon is afraid' moment. The second half of the mechanics, dealing with the Revenants on the airship and in the Assimilated Universe, doesn't stand out as much to me. You basically have swarms of lil' baby units you want to keep separate from the main units, or they'll eat the small guys to empower their attacks. Works well enough in the main stages but frustrates me in HI-2 because of the sheer quantities of mans they start out with; it ends up feeling like something that really WANTS you to have massive AOE DPS. Special mention to the new flying Chalice enemies, which absorb a portion of the damage suffered by all enemies in an aura around them, have giant HP pools, and 0 defence. And you know what that means:

On to the story. Spoilers abound!

Episode 14's story is long. It has to juggle the resolution for the Self-Salvation Corps, Siege, The Followers, the Taran rebellion, and also the RI gang going up to stop Theresa. It juggles all these plotlines...okay. I felt I came away from it all with more questions about 'Theresa' 's goals and motivations than answers. Okay, high points! First off, chapter 14-10 has an amazing cutscene in it, where the narration talks about the struggles of different members of the Exemplars to get Siege to the 'stone of the sword'. As it does so the image pans up, scrolling as Siege and the sword advance, the narration shifting to the different members of the Exemplars as it does so. The full piece is amazing:

my cinematography! A high point of the story.

Okay, since I know I get a ton of non-arknights players reading these, I'll warn you in advance that this isn't really a full summary of the story, of everything that happens in chapter 14. But I will drill down a bit on one bit, because people make a lot of memes about her and I think she's one of the more interesting parts, and that's Priestess.

Priestess was first mentioned in chapter 8, RI's ship has an AI called 'PRTS', and the map interface has 'Eyes of Priestess' written along the bottom. She (in as much as she has a gender) has been haunting the background of the game, and we don't really learn much about her until Babel and then again now. Back in chapter 8, she's someone who holds Doctor's hand as Doc goes into the Sarcophagus for the first time, and says this:

Well, we've given the writers a few more years to figure out what they want to do with her, and they've landed on some fun stuff! Priestess only appears in person after the airship contacts the originium crystal Ammannan, with everyone being almost instantly devoured by crystals. Like, doc sees this:

And then comes to rest in a dark room with Priestess. Storywise, Priestess is the only known surviving precursor other than Doctor. But she isn't out there 'in the flesh' ; she seems to exist as a digital consciousness inside Originium. And while Doc doesn't remember their past, she does - including their civilization's last struggle before its death, and the decisions they made as a result.

In Priestesses' telling (Which may not be accurate - other characters have disagreed), Originium is a record of their civilization to leave far beyond the disaster passes. The harm that it may cause to other civilizations along the way is irrelevant; it is THE solution, and all those other societies were going to die anyways.

She's very devoted to Doctor, having been with them for a long time; she describes her first introduction of herself as:

"My name is Priestess, a linguist. I am researching the final sound waves emitted by planets as they die. I like quietly spending my time alone, but I also wanted to find someone to explore the universe with."

and it's unclear just how long they were together, but their transhuman hyperspace adventures clearly spanned quite a while. Back in Babel there's a line where Doc references the 'billions of lives lost' in the search to an answer for that disaster, and we also get a firm answer for how long Doc was in stasis before Theresa awakened them: 13,021.9 years [BB-ST-2]. Priestess has been sleeping within Originium for at least that long, and this is where we get to the final neat leg of Priestess's character; her patience and supreme confidence that things will go her way. See, Priestess is an antagonist. From what we know so far, she wants to see Originium flood over the surface of Terra, converting all the life on its surface. She wants Doc to give up and retreat into despair. But Priestess is also loving and affection to Doctor, in the calm way of a long life, and she's confident she knows what Doctor will do. Her words before parting in 14-19 sum it up well.

It's calm, welcoming, caring. But there's a manipulative quality to it, right? Amiya and Kal'tsit are 'doubts'. The entirety of Doc's involvement in the surface world is 'grand rhythms and minute pulsations' destined to fall into silence. At the same time she's far from a standard anime yandere, as she doesn't actually do anything to stop Doc's involvement in the surface world, and wishes them well as they go. After all, why not? She's immortal, and so is Doctor. She can be patient. You will return to her side. ... Okay, some last notes. It's really funny that in the Assimilated Universe, the 'The Matrix' - like construct inside Originium, Logos the words and grammar wizard intuitively understands that the place 'has its own grammar' before Kal'tsit tells him to not study it too deeply. My man got put in a computer and almost instantly was thinking on how to hack it. The Follower's drama with Shining and her dad (sorry I am not copying those names over) is very abstract but I think I get it after a while. Poor Liz, I hope she can find a happy life. Also as Arknights is a game by otaku who definitely read Fate/Stay Night, if your dad is a Matou Zouken you are obligated to kick his ass with your girlfriends. It'll be really hard! But you gotta do it. Finally, I actually have this book on my back shelf, 'Great Mambo Chicken and the Transhuman Condition'. A sort of study of scientists poking at ways to live in space and survive the heat death of the universe and all that, with a bit of a lens of 'aren't these guys kooky' if I remember correctly. It's been over a decade since I last cracked it open. BUT I do remember that the segment on how to survive Heat Death introduces, as one concept, creating a virtual world that would slow its clock rate down as the usable energy lowers, extending the last few perceived seconds of its inhabitants into infinity. Given the literal demons Arknights has in the form of Collapsals I think the disaster that befell Priestess and Doctor is somewhat more direct, but it was neat to see digital arks as a long term survival method again. "Until the stars fall", huh.

[hannahhook7744]

Worries Can Wait.

------------------------------------------------------------

Summary: How Alice Liddell first became a mother. Trigger warnings: child abandonment, technical kidnapping, lying, swearing, etc. Hazel and Artie are from The Sword in the Stone. Taran and Eilonwy are from The Black Cauldron. Marie, Calla, Aquarianne, and Cavin are from Adventures of the Gummi Bears. Alexander, Pinocchio, and Lampwick are from Pinocchio. Reese Jenkins is from Disney Descendants. Alice Liddell is from Alice in Wonderland. Tiger Lily is from Peter Pan. Smitty is from Dumbo.

Made for @casinotrio1965 .

A glance was exchanged between Pinocchio and Lampwick. 

Then Lampwick and Alexander.

Then Alexander and Taran. 

Then Taran and Hazel. 

Then Hazel and Artie. 

Then Artie and Smitty. 

Then Smitty and Marie. 

Then Marie and Calla. 

Then Calla and Aquarianne.

Then Aquarianne and Cavin. 

Then Calvin and Reese Jenkins. 

Then Reese Jenkins and Eilonwy.

And then, finally, a look was exchanged between Eilonwy and Tiger Lily until finally, the Neverlandian warily spoke up—realizing that no one else was willing to do it.  “Alice?”

The blonde hummed from the rock she was sitting on in their forest ‘hideout’ (which was just a little aways from Auradon University). Not looking up from the small bundle in her arms that had every one of her friends (not to mention her poor boyfriend, Pinocchio) filled with dread. “Yes?”

“Whatcha got there?”

The twenty year old didn't miss a beat. “A baby.” 

“ Who's baby?” Eilonwy asked, sharply before Tiger Lily or anyone else, could.

“My baby.”

Pinocchio yelped and started counting on his fingers, only for Lampwick to elbow him in the side. 

“We would have known if you were pregnant, Alice. Who's baby is it, really? ” Tiger Lily crossed her arms, just as Eilonwy herself did so. 

The blonde shot her a glare. “She is mine! I found her, that makes her mine. She's just as much mine as you guys' children are yours!”

“You weren't pregnant so WHERE did you get it?!”

“ Her. I got her from the barrage, okay?!”

“THE BARRAGE?!”

Alice rolled her eyes at everyone’s reactions. “Yes, the barrage.”

Pinocchio swallowed. “The… the one that brings supplies to the isle of the lost every day—”

“ —and the isle where people like the coachmen live?” Alexander asked, pale. 

“Yes, that barrage and yes that isle.”

Lampwick, Eilonwy, and Reese swore. And they were the only ones.

"Alice, what the fuck—”

And Tiger Lily? She lost it. “WHAT WERE YOU—”

Alice shushed her as the baby started to cry. 

------------------------------------------------------------

It was a story that all of them swore to take to their graves after that day. 

And after that day, if anyone asked who the baby girl belonged to, all fourteen of them would give the exact same answer: Alison Ludovica Liddell, daughter of Alice Liddell and Pinocchio Collodi-Rossi-Liddell. 

Or, Ally, for short. 

[its-callum-everybody]

I CANNOT DRAW. You see chat, I can’t draw, so I need to think of ways to share my TWST oc with the world. So instead of learning how to draw, I’ll be doing it the best way I know how: In Depth Character Analysis!

Part 1 — Basic Character Information / Relationships

Part 2 — Everything to do with her Unique Magic

Part 3 — Lore

Part 4 — Appearance

Part 3 ➤

LORE.

I love it, you probably love it. (At least I would hope so if you’re still reading this.) Lore is what makes up any good storyline. And makes up even better character because all characters have a backstory! Even if it’s something completely rudimentary. Not every backstory has to be completely tragic. But I am inclined to make my OC (Cyrielle) go through the wringer. So that’s what we’re doing!

Lets start off with some explanation about the movie she is inspired from though, shall we?

The Black Cauldron~!

Now, The Black Cauldron is framed around a young boy who dreams of being a hero. But is in charge of taking care of a pig instead. As it turns out, the pig can create visions and The Horned King (the main antagonist) wants that pig so he can find The Black Cauldron.

The Black Cauldron was the prison/death sentence type deal used to rule over the mystical land of Prydain. He was so good at being evil that everyone was scared of him, even the gods. So when they put him in this cauldron it made the cauldron evil. So now whoever finds it can grant themselves a bunch of power by summoning an undead army. The problem is The Cauldron takes up a lot of power and ends up actually consuming The Horned King at the end because it truly can’t be controlled.

So let’s straighten out one thing, which character is Cyrielle based off of???

Taran, the pig keeper and protagonist? No.

Princess Eilonwy? No.

Dallben? No.

The Creeper or Gurgi? Definitely not.

The Horned King? Surprisingly no.

The Black Cauldron and The Emperor Inside of it whom we barely know any past lore of because the movie doesn’t really tell you anything besides how evil he was? DING DING DING! WE HAVE A WINNER!

Now, while the Cauldron played great inspiration in her Unique Magic (check out Part 2 for that grand explanation) Her character isn’t precisely based ON the emperor. No. She plays OFF of him.

Cyrielle, as explained by her upcoming lore, acts as a sort of explanation as to how The Emperor (Teivel, as I named him.) ties into the world of TWST and sort of just how his legacy played out. Granted. She is still connected to him, a fact I will elaborate on later.

But now that we have that explained lets move onto phase one—

World-building!

World building is important here because I somehow have to manage to literally input the entirety of Prydain somewhere in the TWST-verse.

Now we don’t have names of continents per se, we just have the names of Nations which are on those continents and then places in those kingdoms like- you have The Queendom of Roses but inside the Queendom of roses are villages and cities like Clocktown.

Or in the Shaftlands you have characters from Harveston or Fleur City IN THE SHAFTLANDS. So most of characters are only identified by the nations/kingdoms they hails from instead of the villages. No clue how those Nations/Kingdoms are positioned geographically or how they link up.

But from what I can tell from the Wiki and a now inactive blog (thank you @twstarchives, you are my saving grace.)

They do take up entire if not certain sections of a land mass, except for The Coral Sea obviously because that going to be part of a larger ocean instead of land. Like how the North Atlantic Ocean connects to the Caribbean sea.

[ For those wondering the difference between a Sea and Ocean, here’s the summary of a googled answer:

Oceans — Larger, Deeper, more open divisions of earths salt water, typically higher salinity levels.

Seas — Smaller parts of the ocean, located where land & ocean meet, usually partially enclosed by land, shallower, lower levels of Salt.]

So I’m basically throwing darts at a board here. Except I have no idea where anything else is located. So what better idea than to just have it to not exist!

Prydain simply just won’t exist. Also. Another good reason for just not having it exist will be because at the beginning, as she and Crowley are searching for Prydain. It will make it harder to find information and throw them off the trail, red herring style, even though Prydain will still, at one point have existed in TWST wonderland.

And what better a place to put in than the Shaftlands.

“ A large country with a diverse population. Because it's comprised of several different biomes, it's home to a variety of cultures. ”

In the Black Cauldron we see a grand shot between different area. There is a drastic change between the farm at the start, The Forbidden Forest, and the land where The Horned King resides which is sort of like an Alpine Tundra. So given the difference between all there places and the fact the Shaftlands is described as large. I’m gonna say that it’s sort of towards the Northwest as pure North is very snowy according to Jack’s Wish/Birthday card but we don’t see a lot of snow. So Northwest it shall be!

That leaves me with explaining how Prydain became a lost Kingdom. And just as The Black Cauldron was never really a popular Disney film in its time, I’m going to say it worked the same for Prydain. Prydain. may have been well-known, but as time progressed it grew smaller and many of its people branched off to go to different lands or just generally lost itself. So as these people naturally went away from Prydain, along with a bit of land change from the elements over the years. There isn’t much to be noted about the lost kingdom as there wasn’t much left behind from it besides a few legends, records, and buildings. And most documents and writings left behind probably would be unable to be translated. As many of them would many be in a lost common tongue.

So thats taken care of! Onto phase two,

The Legends and Lore!

Now of course, all the villains and hero’s featured in Twisted wonderland some long, long time ago. So that’s the same for all the characters featured in The Black Cauldron. So obviously The tale of Taran, The Horned King, and The Cauldron is well known. And is probably one of the legends that was best kept alive because of how directly it impacted Prydain as a nation.

Still lesser known, but not entirely forgotten!

Which brings us to how The Cauldron, or Teivel, and Cyrielle are related. I mentioned earlier there wasn’t a direct inspiration from the cauldron in her personality. More so in her ability. Now why is that?

Because she’s meant to both reflect and go against him.

I’m adding a legend to Prydain’s catalog:

~ The Princess and The Thief

“ Long ago, in the faraway land of Prydain there was rumored to be a King so cruel, so evil that even the gods feared him. As no prison would hold him, he was thrown alive into a crucible of molten iron. There, his demonic spirit was captured in the form of a great Black Cauldron.

The King had no wives, though his mistresses were many. And with one he had a child. A princess who at the time was but just a babe. But, just in case she had inherited his evil heart, she was cast away into a manor deep within The Forbidden Forest. Through trees so thick and under the canopy so dark not even the bravest soul would dare venture in.

However, no one dared to consider that even a brave soul would not enter, a foolish one certainly would. A young lady, who laid claim to the keep of gold of an ex-nobles by trickery was the first and last of the fools. She took her goods as the good-men chased her down. Ducking into the forest on the whim no one would dare follow. Her whim was correct though it cost her much.

Loosing her gold to the vicious forest she had no chance but to re-treat. The forest forbade it, growing and churning to keep her inside as she ran in endless circles. Until, instead of the end, she came upon a grody manor to which she let herself inside with no hesitance. Wonder her delight when she found that the inside had been far kinder. Orante walls and Avant-Grade Roofs. Imagine her surprise when at the top of the stairs, peering down at her, was the most beautiful girl she had ever seen— ”

I’ll cut the story off there for everyone’s sanity but to summarize the rest The Theif (Named Verity) and The Princess (Named Enora) begrudgingly start to form a friendship to which Verity promises to help Enora escape her fate [to reside in the manor for the rest of her life] because she doesn’t want to live forever in punishment for her fathers crimes. But the son of the Nobleman whom imprisoned Enora in the manor gets word of it and sends one of his best hunters after them.

The girls attempt to navigate the seemingly endless manor through multiple magic rooms but end up having to lock themselves in the clock tower. In one last culmination, they both decide they know what they have to do. Locking themselves in a kiss as the Hunter breaks through the door. Though what he finds on the other side is two girls, clasped in each other’s arms, a sword through both their hearts as their bodies slowly eroded into nothing but blood. Which then began to form a different woman from both their forms, she removes the sword from her chest, kills the hunter. Then leaves. Disappearing nameless into legend.

As you could guess, the woman formed is Cyrielle. Though she had no recollection of these memories herself and memories she does have of her past actually fake (though no one knows that yet).

It’s a generational process of cycle-breaking.

Teival is the one who does the crimes. He does not feel sorry for anyone, and even trapped inside the Cauldron he will remain wicked.

Enora has to pay for them just as he does despite being innocent, having others fear her and her power simply because she was the daughter of a cruel man. All she wants is a life her own. Undecided by fate and fear.

Cyrielle is the one meant to break it. She is the creation of love between Enora and Verity even during their fates, having but one purpose but to do what they couldn’t, break free from fate. Still. Cyrielle is cursed just like Enora was.

She has Teival’s blood running through her veins just as Enora did. Only now it is less, only now is it covered by the spite that came from love. She can bleed out however much she likes but she will always be the granddaughter of Teival until the world decides she is not that, but just Cyrielle.

Teival’s Lamb. It was once the unique Magic Enora had. Now it is Cyrielle’s. The haunting reminder of their own power drags them back to their Father/Grand-father. Anytime they bleed, they can make it into something else, even something used for good. But will always feel evil because they have bled for it. Bled for it because it is his.

So that brings me to phase three;

Why and how is she at NRC?

Cyrielle would appear similar to how MC/Yuu does. Dragged to school by the dark mirror because she is filled with power magical abilities. In fact, given the fact the mirror may be even older than the school itself; my whole basis is that it immediately sensed someone equal to Teival’s power had appeared and immediately sent a carriage to retrieve them.

The problem is, Cyrielle doesn’t remember anything and what she does remember is [unknowingly] fake. Why is that you may ask?

Because The Manor is magic, I mentioned that earlier. Even if Enora had managed to escape there certainly would have been more precautions in place in case she did. One being a spell that made her drowsy, possibly making her forget everything that occurred so it was easier to transport her to somewhere back to the manor or somewhere with higher security.

Then Why is she so young then if this happened such a long time ago? I head you ask

She’s young because of the forest and because she, on some level, was literally created via magic. She wasn’t born, she was crafted. Meaning that she had more control over how she appears because just as the appearance of clay can be morphed so can she. She doesn’t realize this though as she would spend most time after the manor ordeal trying to find a way out of the forest. So long, that it would be modern day by the time she exited. Only to be subdued by magic that made her forget all that struggle.

And now that I’ve answered your questions let’s move into more of Why she’s there, shall we?

Now. The simple reason to the mirror would be ‘Hey. There was just a weird spike in really powerful magic energy. We should probably get that person an invite.’ And it did.

The more lore-complex, my reason, is because it’s a school of villains. The people here embody on some level what Cyrielle is trying to escape from. (Not that she knows that, *cough* amnesia *cough*).

So what better way to have her do that then to have her also make everyone go on a journey of self-exploration with her by pointing out their cruddy flaws and giving them some accidental therapy. Even though it’s hard because ninety-eight percent of the student population all suck.

But she’s going to try her best and, hopefully, by the time its over with she can be recognized not by her grandfather but as her own person, get her memories back, not have an identity crisis, get a really awesome boyfriend (Silver), and save some people from their toxic and dangerous qualities!

[scvcnofswords]

"i'm out of time" || @thedaschosen [ Taran ]

"Bullshit!" Regin hisses, vicious and desperate, even as she twists the spell into being, dragging a barrier into existence across Taran's skin. It's a modified one; trying to protect him from the backlash, the power and the shrapnel that keeps tearing into him every time the Anchor discharges.

More and more often, as the Anchor becomes more powerful and less stable by the minute.

He's going to die. They all know it. Regin knows it, even though the idea of giving up, of just letting him be torn apart to fade into nothing, whilst the great powers of Southern Thedas squabble over his bones like vultures at a carcass.

Her head bends forward, and she lays her hand on Taran's shoulder, taking a shaking breath as she floods him with healing magic- again, the fifth time in the day, since they'd found the Viddasala's stronghold. He's wearing down, and she's burning herself out trying to keep him together.

Regin takes in a sharper breath- the magic twists to her will again, and the healing energy attaches to the barrier. It's a clever trick; for a short time, the two spells will feed one another, protecting him from harm- until the anchor either exceeds the spell's limit, or something else causes so much damage that it can't keep up. The glyphs shimmer like green wind around his skin for but a moment, before vanishing entirely and fading to the sight.

Regin's golden-green gaze meets his, mouth pressed into a thin line. "We're going to find S-" Even now, she struggles to say his name, to talk about him. But her feelings aren't important, right now. Taran's life is. "We're going to find Solas," she says then, more steadily as she buries the pain, buries the fear an the longing. "And he'll... We'll intercept the Viddasala before she can hurt him. And he'll help you. I know he will." Even if they can't get Solas to return with them; this one thing she's sure in.

He won't just allow this to kill Taran. Not like this.

"Come on. We've got to catch her. And her saarebas."