#this is mostly a character study on emmrich

[absoluteditto]

Upon returning to the lighthouse, after watching Emmrich take a particularly heavy blow, one that was nearly fatal, Rook nearly tears his robes off of his shoulders to see the freshly mended skin. She was the one who healed it, but she needed to physically see that he was alright. Emmrich started crying when he saw the sheer relief in her eyes, but didn't realize until a few hours later that he hadn't felt so truly cherished in quite some time.

He wanders out of his room during the evening on one of their free days to find Rook dozing off on the couch in the library/meeting area. The book she was reading has long since fallen to the floor, and while he likely has the strength to carry her, he does not want to risk waking her. Instead, he takes a quilt from his room and lays it over her. When she wakes, she looks at the quilt fondly and notices a small embroidered signature along the edge. The quilt was made by his mother. The following day, he finds the quilt neatly folded atop his desk along with a handwritten note written in her elegant script. As he pulls the quilt to his chest with a smile, he realizes that she'd sprayed the slightest bit of lavender scented perfume over the quilt.

One day, Rook decides to teach Manfred sign language. She will steal him for around an hour every few days, and slowly but surely he begins to learn. One day, Emmrich takes note that his ward has been gone far longer than usual and decides to set out in search for his companion. His search leads him to the dining room, where he sees Rook sitting with Manfred and having a full conversation with him, while she translates the whole conversation to Neve. His heart feels full as he realizes that there is nothing in the world that he would change if it meant ending up here in the long run, in finding his family amongst the mismatched puzzle pieces that make up the Veilguard. These people who have come to mean so much to him.

[flowersforthemachines]

Some facts about Emmrich (and also the Necropolis, Nevarra and other related things) gathered from the banters

I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).

Note: This list may not be exhaustive. I might have missed some something or didn't write it down because I considered it common knowledge. If you have anything to add, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from, though)

Note 2: Posts from this series (mostly) don't include information from banters specific to quests or between companions and faction members. I plan to do another playthrough to capture more of those and will add any relevant info to the character posts.

Other characters' posts: Bellara, Davrin, Harding, Lucanis, Neve, Taash. I'm also planning a post about just the Lighthouse some time later

About Emmrich:

Family and early life:

“Volkarin” is a commoner’s name. Emmrich’s father was a butcher, and his mother was a cook 

When Emmrich was around 5 years old, his neighbours had a pig named Lucy. He was very fond of her, and she’d always let him hug her around his neck

Emmrich grew up poor (clocked by Neve based on the way he always saves his candle stubs, shows up first for meals and never leaves food on his plate) 

Emmrich grew up hearing that all dragons were so hostile they had to be slain and is surprised that Taash has found ways to deal with them peacefully 

General:

The gold Emmrich’ wears is called “grave-dowry” (or “grave gold”). It’s a Nevarran custom to wear precious objects one would like to take to their grave

Emmrich’s bracelet (not specified which one) was gifted to him on the day he became a full Watcher. The ring with a large stone was the last gift from his father. The skull pin doesn’t have a story, he just likes it

Emmrich isn’t fond of the Nevarran nobility

Emmrich’s shaving cream smells like potash (at least to Taash)

Emmrich uses moss perfume with flowers

Decades ago, Emmrich used to see an Orlesian woman who was an art appraiser

If Emmrich wasn’t a watcher, he would like to be a botanist

Emmrich displays some interest in Ferelden, mentioning that many of its heroes greatly shaped the history. Harding says that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said about her homeland

Emmrich doesn't like beer because it's bitter

Emmrich prefers tea (he mentions purchasing a Brynnlaw curled-leaf blend in Nevarra), but he can also drink coffee 

Emmrich doesn’t eat meat (seafood and insects included), but he indulges in cheese. It seems to be a Watcher thing - he says that each Watcher must decide what they will and won't take a life for, and meat crosses that line for him

Emmrich likes melons, mushrooms and pineapples. He also enjoyed a plate of fried leeks and potatoes at Halos’s stand in Minrathous

Emmrich always thought he’d get married one day

After a Minrathous merchant sells Emmrich fake charms, he causes him to see skeletal faces on the windows and hear spirits whispering that false goods endanger lives as punishment. Emmrich agrees to stop once Neve tells him that she can convince the merchant to get back to selling linen if the visions cease

On magic and studies:

Some deaths may leave emotional imprints so intense Emmrich may feel them decades later 

Emmrich thinks the magic of old Elven artefacts is “rigid” 

Emmrich isn’t very good at figuring out Elven artefacts (by his own admission)

Emmrich’s first published work was A Monograph on the Vagaries of Determining a Body's Time of Death

Emmrich is roughly familiar with the dragon anatomy

Emmrich knows a lot about how bodies work (muscle-wise etc.) from the time he performed autopsies 

Watchers study the death practices of other cultures. Emmrich knew about Eb-ketarra and the Rivaini traditions even before Taash performs them at the end of their questline

On life in the Necropolis: 

When Emmrich fell for another boy during his youth, he showed him a corpse he was allowed to practice dissection on. The date was ruined by a passing wisp possessing the body and causing it to sit up and ruin the mood 

Emmrich tutored Dorian during his term in the Necropolis (“Tremendous potential, but appallingly flippant towards the dead”)

Emmrich and other watchers live in the Necropolis (Emmrich has a flat there)

On life at the Lighthouse:

It took 8 skeletons half a day to bring that slab of marble into Emmrich’s room

He didn’t bring his entire collection of books to the Lighthouse (there are more)

Emmrich talks to skulls in his room 

Lighthouse kitchen reminds Emmrich of the mortuary

Relationships with companions:

Emmrich offers to introduce Bellara to Audric, the Necropolis librarian (who appeared in Tevinter Nights’ Down Among the Dead Men)

Emmrich calls the Archive spirit a work of art  

Emmrich and Davrin disagree on parenting methods. Emmrich thinks Davrin should better discipline Assan and teach him boundaries, while Davrin suggest Emmrich should let Manfred learn more on his own (e.g. let him fall so he learns how to get up) 

Emmrich turns to Neve when he needs help acquiring some reagents he can't get his hands through normal ones, and she agrees to help him out (smuggling is involved)

Emmrich isn’t too thrilled about Neve taking over the Threads, questioning of what’s going to become with the organisation and the future and thinking it may become corrupt (sort of mirroring the way Neve is apprehensive about his lichdom) 

Taash likes Emmrich’s lich helmet. They are not usually fond of skulls, but that helmet is fine because it’s on fire

Taash thinks that gemstones like amethyst or green opal would look good with the lich helmet

Emmrich doesn’t seem to like unrealistic books as he criticised Harding’s “Gore-Knight” novels for their incorrect interpretation of magic. He is worried about people misunderstanding magic and spirits

Emmrich calls himself Harding's 'de facto physician'

On Manfred: 

(If Rook chooses to save Treviso) Manfred brings Neve tea by his own volition. Emmrich thinks it's because Manfred sensed she might need a friend

Manfred is as aware of his surroundings as most people (to a certain degree)

(If revived at the Necropolis) Manfred learns to say Emmrich’s name 

(If revived at the Necropolis) Manfred becomes much more talkative 

Manfred likes boiling tea because he is fascinated by steam

Emmrich suggests Manfred tries tending to plants in Harding's garden 

Manfred is curious about Spite and wanders into Lucanis’s room at night

Spite and Assan miss Manfred if he’s gone

On Lichdom:

Emmrich smells fine to Taash even after he becomes a lich 

Emmrich’s lich helmet burns with veilfire. He once tried using it in combat, but the flame ended up blinding him

Emmrich thinks Strife would no longer be interested in a relationship after he becomes a Lich. That doesn't prove to be true

Lich!Emmrich doesn't need to eat but still comes by the kitchen for company

The energy of Emmrich’s magic changed after he became a lich

Other liches call lich!Emmrich “Young Volkarin” 

Lich!Emmrich no longer has muscles, but when he tries out Taash’s pull-up routine, he can still feel something like “a spectral memory of flesh”, as if he had pulled a tendon

Emmrich starts seeing more books in the Lighthouse library after becoming a linch

About spirit, demons, and the Necropolis: 

There are spirits of Temperance and Diligence 

The Watchers avoid using the word “demon” because it creates bad expectations and can negatively influence spirits 

Some in the Mourn Watch suspected that elves originated from spirits, though it was just one of many theories, and not a particularly popular one

Chambers in the Necropolis can go missing (according to MW!Rook, they turn up, eventually)  

Even after the despair demon is banished from the Necropolis, the halls remain cold. However, the effects will abate with time

There are horses on display in the Necropolis

Watchers rarely get possessed thanks to the special wards of the Necropolis. Possessions also don’t happen as often because the necromancers already provide spirits with bodies, so they don't need to possess anyone by force

Bellara calls the background magic of Necropolis tidy and quiet

There something called “The Deep Necropolis” featuring sections like “The Unspoken Valley” and “The Charnel Bridge” (which has something called “nightmare fog”) that hosts all kinds of entities. Bellara is very excited to visit once the nightmare fog clears

Vorgoth ensures that the transgressions of those who use magical to cruel and abusive means will not be tolerated (whatever that means)

About Nevarra:

Many great Nevarran artefacts have been lost to time, including the Skull of Sabinar, the Key of Dead Dreamers, and the Crown of the Moon

There are strict rules about selling enchantments in Nevarra. You can’t sell anything without a licence and an inspection from the mage Circles

A Tevinter poem “Faustina's Song”, a romantic epic from the Steel Age, is very popular in Nevarra, and its quotes are used on ‘more than one’ epitaph in the Necropolis. Neve is surprised people even read it outside Tevinter 

Pineapples don’t grow in Nevarra

[sangre]

Fandoms: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Video Game)   Relationships: Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook, Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook/Spite, Lucanis Dellamorte/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Rook (Dragon Age), Lucanis Dellamorte, Spite (Dragon Age), Emmrich Volkarin, Everyone Else Is Here But Without A Speaking Role Additional Tags: Self Recognition Through The Other But It's The Bad Kind, Slow Burn, Banter, Tension, Communication Failure, Protectiveness, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Sleepwalking, Sleep Deprivation, Nightmares, Some Homebrew Magic/Spirit Stuff, Necromancy, Possession, Demonic Possession, Spirits, Hurt/Comfort, Character Study, Mostly Canon Compliant But I Had Some Fun, Spite Has Absolutely Had It, Spite Loves Rook, He Is Like Venom To Me, Backstory Words: 17,933 Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

“You were! Sleepwalking! You were, too.” Spite’s taunt is clearer, then, which makes Lureva’s insides lurch. “...I was?” Lucanis doesn’t seem to discredit the idea, but he grits his teeth. “We can’t just trust his word. He could say anything to get what he wants.” “Rook - is stained - you’re like her. And she’s like me.” – OR: As a member of the Mourn Watch, Rook is used to the company of spirits… though outside of necromancy, she rarely keeps them in close quarters. Thanks to an unexpected side effect of Solas’ Veil-cutting dagger, she begins to see more of herself in Lucanis than she knows how to live with. Their ghosts are not finished with them just yet, much less the dizzying, unspoken everything between them that keeps getting in the way.

[escapismlover]

One of my main issues with veilguards is how much they told us instead of showing us, especially with the companions. I think more companion quests would have been an easy fix, besides their personal ones. Two or three quests, easy, nothing complex, to showcase their skills and activity. I will go in further detail under the cut for each companion in particular.

I also personally rlly liked the story sliders for each companion but given how short and forward their storylines were they all felt a bit anti climactic in the end, so I also think more quests relating their personal issues would ve been great and easy to do but that s a post for another time.

I will not make over the top suggestions no matter how great they might been, I like imagining these things as easy corrections so I can get more mad that they weren’t included.

I also have way more intricate quests for all of them planned in my head, let me know if anyone would like to hear any of them, maybe use the ask box for that hahaha

No hate toward the characters, just how they were treated. No hate towards the writers either, they tried their best with what they were given. Ok, let s get into it

Harding

               The best scout in all of thedas that we never see actually scouting but uses the verb to scout once every 5 minutes (dramatic exaggeration). This might be the easiest one to fix, just give us a mission w Harding whenever we unlock a new area, just to follow her and reach some places. No need to implement anything new to the game, besides some dialogue that could be kept simple.

Neve

               The over all personal quests she has give off the detective vibe quite well, but it would have been better for them to show us how much Neve is actually know in Dock Town. It could be 3 simple quests of simple NPCs like Maria the Weaving lady that lost her car, Marius the runaway slave that got lost in the catacombs and stuff like this. Seeing her interact with them, them coming to her, her showcasing her skills would have made it all better.

Bellara

               Let her find some artifacts ffs. Arlathan is full of glades and statues, just let her go and find more, maybe one of them ending up in a boss fight with a sentinel.

Lucanis

               The mage killer that we never see killing an actual mage the whole game. 3 quests, 3 venatori in Treviso, 3 boss fights like the revenants. Easy peasy. Or an antaam. He s also the assassin that we never see assassinating someone, a simplet quest at the opera putting poison in some food would ve been neat.

Davrin

               The monster hunter that…you got it by now. A bear in arlathan, a bigger deepstalker queen, maybe an ogre.

Taash

               They got the best treatment fr they re a dragon slayer that has two quests revolving around killing dragons. More dragons would have been better tho, one for each area, but I understand that would be the hardest thing to implement out of all these as that would require a dragon fight area to be built.

Emmrich

               Given how he s a teacher and an expert on the fade his quests would probably be the hardest to implement, but not impossible. A gathering quests in the garden, plants for his next seminar, meeting a student NPC. A quest in the Crossroads, him wanting to study the place, could end in a boss fight of a haunting. A quest similar to one of Hardings scouting quests where he s called to investigate something in the necropolis, he just goes around and does it and u follow.

I know there are similar quests already for mostly all I said but those are quests for Rook, which is not an expert like Bioware says our companions are, yet rarely shows it. Maybe if I saw Harding scout at least once her argument for leading the second team would actually make some sense to me instead of basing that choice on whom I like more, same for the wards choice.

[elgar-nyan]

OC Tag Game

Tagged by @vitaeplaysda !!! :Vc I'm cheesed I get to yapp about my OC djsslkajsdlk x3c

Tagging anyone who wants to do this - I'm actually unsure who all has done it or not already but *boop* @crystalizedbloodd @soeasilyswayed @crowofstarlight @kezzdaddy

Note: Da'mithra is the core character, but Rook is her reincarnation. They are the same spirit/being, but different lives and experiences for the most part. I have separated them where applicable as the following format: Da'mithra <- // -> Rook

GENERAL

Name: Da'mithra // Valkryie Ingellvar

Alias(es): Little Fox // Rook, Val

Gender: Female (she/her) // Non-Binary (she/they)

Age: ∞ // 20 years-old

Place of birth: D: Somewhere in the Mountains // V: Tevinter Imperium (Minrathous?) Was moved to Nevarra City as a foundling

Spoken languages: Ancient Elven, Trade // Trade, Nevarran

Sexual orientation: Panromantic Demi-Asexual

Occupation: Evanuris, Elgar'nan's Shadow // Mourn Watch Necromancer

FAVOURITE

Colour: Gold // Green (like her magic)

Entertainment: People watching, being a general nuisance, stealing Elgar'nan's Crown off the top of his head when the opportunity strikes and playing hard to get, testing Elgar'nan's patience in general, bullying the Dread Wolf

Pastime: Working out, sparring, getting drunk, swimming in shallow water

Food: Cheese, meat, stew, anything Lucanis or Bellara cooks, those weird breaded cheesesticks Taash has

Drink: Honeyed mead, fruity wine, otherwise just water

Books: Anything about the Fade, Spirits, and Magic. Spends a lot of time around Emmrich to study his collection and Bellara for Ancient Elvhen studies. Rook is mostly unable to read due to visual impairments and needs someone to read to her. (At least until after DATV events happen.)

HAVE THEY

Passed university: Rook passed the Mourn Watcher Academy, although she never took the advanced classes.

Had sex: As Da'mithra; whenever it struck the fancy of her partner. She never initiated. // As Rook, however, never before the events of DA: Veilguard.

Had sex in public: Depends on your definition of "public." If in a spot accessible to the public, yes, but never in front of or at risk of being seen.

Gotten tattoos: Rook got a dwarven tattoo around her neck as her first tattoo because it "looked cool." Then she got a sleeve tattoo on her left arm to signify her journey becoming a Mourn Watcher

Gotten piercings: Da'mithra gets ear piercings and wears moon-looking discs only when in "uniform." // Rook never before DATV. She was raised by humans and tried to avoid things that drew attention to her pointed ears.

Had a broken heart: Maybe a few close calls, but never truthfully got her heart wholly broken

Been in love: Da'mithra was in love her whole physical existence, as well as a great majority of her time as a spirit (although it was a bit different then. More so just the nature of being connected.) // As Rook, never until she met Elgar'nan. She thought she was in love with Emmrich but one awkward kiss later proved otherwise (oopsie).

ARE THEY

A cuddler: Very much so. Likes touch and to be touched. Hugs and snuggles are their love language much more than anything else.

Scared easily: Nothing scares them. They are 5'0" and are so used to "punching up" that they don't scare easily at all. // With exception to Claustrophobia and Thalassophobia which is exclusive to Rook.

Jealous easily: Not at all. Not as Da'mithra and not as Rook. Never felt the need to feel jealous, or feel as though she isn't getting enough attention either, so there never is a reason to feel jealous.

Trustworthy: Depends on to whom. Da'mithra is eternally trustworthy to Elgar'nan and would drop anyone and everything at his command. // Rook, however, is less inclined to blindly follow the word or desires of Elgar'nan. Her end goal remains the same no matter what; stopping the sixth blight and preventing the apocalypse.

FAMILY

Sibling(s): not technically, though it depends. The Evanuris acted like siblings and a dedicated family structure in front of the public, but in actuality none of them are related // Rook doesn't know if they have any siblings as they do not know who their blood parents are. The closest she has is Bellara and Harding who both treat Rook as their little sister.

Parents: None, unless you count whatever created the Primordial Spirits to start with // Unknown Tevinter slaves. Later adopted by a Lich Lord named Victor Ingellvar who died under mysterious circumstances and then she was raised by Vorgoth and Myrna until she was of age and a full Mourn watcher.

Children: None - Can't have any // Can have kids as Rook but her partner can't

Pets: Does Elgar'nan's dragon form (Lusacan) count? Does a massive great dragon even like chin skritches or belly rubs??

[thecraftybaroness]

Saw this format going around and thought it would be fun to add Sabriel to the mix.

Characterization Sheet: Sabriel Mercar

Faceclaim & Voiceclaim: A blend of Michelle Yeoh’s presence and Emma Thompson’s expressiveness—poised, weathered, eloquent, with a low, deliberate voice edged in dry wit and quiet warmth.

Age: Early to mid 40s

Gender/Pronouns: Female / she/her, they/them

Orientation: Demisexual bisexual

Race/Species: Elf

Faction/Organization: The Veilguard (formerly the Shadow Dragons)

Role/Title: Rogue, strategist, former resistance operative

Fanart and Fanfic permission: Hell yes! Also happy to collab!

Character Vibe/Concept:

A blade honed by survival, tempered by grief, and wielded with care. Sabriel is the quiet step before the strike, the steady hand in the dark, and the heart that loves without asking for anything in return. She doesn’t demand attention—she earns trust in the space between silence and action.

Look:

Sabriel stands 5'6", lean and agile with a quiet, coiled stillness. Her black hair is streaked with gray at the temples, often tied back or left loosely swept. She bears three distinct scars—two across her brow, one trailing beneath her right eye—and wears a stylized tattoo across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. It resembles a Dalish vallaslin, but it is not a true one: Sabriel had it inked after joining the Shadow Dragons, reclaiming a piece of her heritage not as it was, but as she chose to carry it. She wears practical armor with a gauntleted arm, a neck-guarded shoulder pauldron, and twin swords at her hips. Beneath it all, she keeps a gold ring on a chain tucked under her shirt. She touches it like a habit—never to show, always to check.

Likes:

Jasmine flowers: She once passed a jasmine garden outside Minrathous, and the scent lingered—soft, clean, comforting. She keeps a small satchel of dried petals tucked in her gear or her pillowcase.

Quiet nights in her quarters: A simple room, made hers by choice. Sabriel treasures calm evenings curled on the chaise with a blanket, often listening to Emmrich read aloud—history, necromantic theory, or some old story. In those moments, the world feels far away, and she feels safe.

Well-balanced weapons: Her twin blades are perfectly weighted. She’s particular about maintenance—sharpening them herself, often in silence, like meditation.

Drawing: She rarely shows anyone her sketches, but her pack always has charcoal and folded parchment. Her drawings are mostly of the people she travels with—caught mid-laugh, lost in thought, unaware.

Warm tea, too many blankets, and Emmrich’s voice: These are the comforts she rarely admits needing, but never turns away.

Sensible armor with a story: Her armor, once Hawke’s, isn’t flashy—but it fits. Protects where it should. Moves with her. It reminds her of what endurance looks like.

Maps and quiet planning: She likes strategy—laying things out, thinking ahead. When she can’t sleep, she studies terrain like someone might study poetry.

Hooks:

One of the oldest members of her Veilguard—often the first to move, and the last to speak without purpose.

Carries herself like someone who’s already made peace with dying—but keeps choosing to live.

Known for her dry humor and even drier patience.

The name “Rook” was all anyone knew for months—until one night, walking the Necropolis Gardens, she told Emmrich her real name.

Wears a self-made vallaslin—a tribute inked after joining the Shadow Dragons, symbolizing choice, survival, and a heritage that no longer had a voice but still deserved to be remembered.

Backstory:

Sabriel’s earliest memories are of a name, a melody, and fire. Her Dalish clan was slaughtered by the Venatori when she was still a child—collateral for blood and power. The Mercar family found her amid the ruins and adopted her into a life of discipline and duty in Tevinter's military elite. She wore their name like armor until the truth surfaced. The Venatori hadn't attacked her people. They’d orchestrated it.

She left the academy. She left everything. She joined the Shadow Dragons, a rebel network embedded in the cracks of the Imperium. There, she became a whisper—sabotaging slavers, disrupting rituals, saving who she could. It was during this time that she had the stylized vallaslin tattooed across her face—not a true mark of the gods, but her own symbol of remembrance. A tribute not just to the family she lost, but to the fire that still lived inside her.

Years later, the Veil began to tear, and Varric came knocking with a job, a nickname, and a team that would change everything.

Relationships:

Emmrich Volkarin: Her tether. Her softness. The only one who ever made her believe she didn’t have to be strong all the time. She loves him deeply—sometimes playfully, sometimes protectively—but always fully. The ring she wears under her shirt is a gold band she bought to give to Emmrich. She just hasn't found the right time to give it to him.

Combat Style:

Sabriel’s strength is in precision. She doesn’t overpower; she outthinks. Dual blades in close quarters, bow at range, and an uncanny knack for setting ambushes before the enemy knows they’re in danger. She moves like a whisper and hits like a blade through silk.

Dialog and Quotes:

“Hope isn’t a quiet thing. It’s a fire in your chest that won’t go out, even when everything else does.”

“Don’t mistake my softness for weakness. One is a choice. The other is a mistake.”

“I don’t fight because I think we’ll win. I fight because they shouldn’t get to walk away unchallenged.”

“If we’re lucky, we get to choose who we become. If we’re brave, we do it more than once.”

“You call it a scar. I call it a lesson I survived."

Emmrich: “You always look like you’re about to disappear.”

Sabriel: “Habit. Learned early it was safer to leave before you were missed.”

---

Emmrich: “You’re always the first to move.”

Sabriel: “Because I’ve seen what happens when no one does.”

---

Davrin: “Is this your subtle way of threatening someone?”

Sabriel: “No. You’d feel that one in your ribs. This is me being nice.”

---

Harding: “You sure you’re alright?”

Sabriel: “Of course. I’ve had worse days. Granted, I stabbed most of them.”

---

Varric: “You planning to stab them or charm them?”

Sabriel: “Yes.”

Bonus Lore:

Skills & Languages

Combat Skills:

Dual-Wielding Mastery: Expert in close-quarters combat with twin blades—fast, efficient, and brutally precise.

Archery: Proficient at medium range. Less flair, more results.

Stealth & Infiltration: Exceptionally skilled at moving unseen, bypassing wards and physical defenses.

Ambush Tactics: Specializes in scouting, silent takedowns, and setting strategic traps.

Improvisational Fighting: Excellent under pressure. Adapts quickly to unpredictable terrain and opponents.

Non-Combat Skills:

Strategy & Tactical Planning: Veteran of countless resistance missions. Adept at quick assessments and long-game planning.

Survival Skills: Tracking, field medicine, and resourceful scavenging from years in the field.

Cartography & Map Reading: Can orient in any terrain. Often marks and annotates maps with precision.

Drawing & Observation: Keen eye for detail. Sketches people, layouts, and key information with accuracy.

Languages:

Tevene (Fluent): Raised in the heart of the Imperium, her grasp of the language is near-native.

Trade Tongue/Common (Fluent): Used in most of Thedas—her default tongue for work in the Veilguard.

The Scars on her face: Sabriel earned the long scars on her face in a brutal fight against a blood mage in Minrathous. They had summoned demons. It was close—too close. She won. Barely.

Terrible at Card Games: Sabriel has the worst poker face in Thedas. She tries to bluff but her eyebrows give her away every time. That said, she refuses to stop playing. She's very competitive, and prone to muttering things like: “If anyone mentions my tell, I’m flipping the whole table.”

Sketchbook Keeper: She draws often, usually in the quiet between battles. Landscapes, the curve of a friend’s hand, someone’s profile mid-laugh—she sketches to remember. She rarely shows them.

Armor of a Legend: Her armor is a spare set once worn by Hawke, modified to suit her lighter frame and dual-wielding style. Varric gave it to her without ceremony—just a quiet, “Thought you might make better use of it than my closet does.” She treasures it, not just for how well it fits, but for what it represents: endurance, resistance, and choosing to fight when it matters most.

[choccy-zefirka]

Fic Author Self-Rec!!

Thank you @volkoss for tagging me! :D

The rule was to hype up five of your fics, and I am happy to oblige! LOOK AT IT

Mister Monster — Skyrim, Gen, Rated Teen and Up (mostly for some self-destructive thoughts among minors brought about by child abuse and general shitty living conditions), 1500 words

An old-ish Skyrim fic that I polished and reuploaded, describing how my vampire character uses his powers to rescue kids and thus becomes an urban legend: a monster that you have to summon/invite in if you want help. Can be read if you have minimal knowledge of Skyrim, if you don't mind the occasional name drops for fantasy races. I really like its narration style, a sort of campfire story passed on by the older kids; and for a gen fic, it did pretty well too!

Doomscrolling — Mass Effect, Shakarian (pre-relationship), Rated Teen and Up, 3,380 words

Basically, Garrus is sitting around on Omega all sad because he thinks Shepard is dead, and thinks back to some bonding moments they had.

This was my first time trying to write something for the trilogy, let alone for such a popular character/ship: I'd previously written a couple of Andromeda drabbles, as I played that game before MELE, but did not even attempt to step into ME fandom spaces, because of the game's reception. Plus, I kept hearing from friends who were in the trilogy fandom that Garrus/Shakarian fans had a reputation for being obnoxious bullies, and when I took a shine to Garrus, I immediately felt a surge of immense guilt. Those were the feelings I had to battle through while writing this story; I did, however, persevere, and am proud of the result! It also helped me discover friendly, welcoming communities of Garrus fans, full of amazing people whom I'm proud to share a blorbo with! And lastly, I peppered in a bunch of pop culture references that may seem corny but made me smile.

Passing of the Years — Dragon Age: Inquisition, Inquisitor Lavellan/Gereon Alexius (not the main focus), Rated Teen and Up, 2,090 words

A character study of Elgara Lavellan, a city elf mage who was taken from her loving community to the Circle and, after growing up there, had to be made Tranquil because she freed the demon that had been trapped in the Fade to test apprentices at Harrowings. It explores her perception of the world as she lost her emotions and then regained them thanks to the Mark, and challenges her fear that she might be too old to explore her sexuality (she was a virgin at the time of her failed Harrowing, and still remained one 20 years later). I like the repeated motifs I use in narration: the colors of a sunset, the sight and sound of cute fat little birds on a branch, the taste of berry porridge. The simple everyday things that Elgara reacts to differently depending on where she is in life. My friends, who read the fic out loud as it had been chosen for our Discord server's fic reading calls, were also deeply moved by my writing, which means a lot to me.

Hjördis Laidir's Guide to Being Fearless — Dragon Age: the Veilguard, Emmrook (at the very end if you squint), Rated Teen and Up, 925 words

Another character study, describing the thought process of Hjördis, a young Lord of Fortune who projects a daring pirate persona in order to mask the fact that she's terrified of a lot of things. She tries to act impulsive before her anxious brain catches up to her, which eventually leads to her flirting with Emmrich in order to silence her fear of necromancy (given that she was a street urchin adopted in Kirkwall by Hawkemeribela, and her only other point of reference for necromancers is Quentin). This one is maybe not of a particular interest to my fellow fans, as with both BG3 and Veilguard, I have noticed a shift to blank-slate protagonists or reader inserts (which are very tricky to write for me, and I applaud anyone who does!). But I personally like being in Hjördis' head, she's such a mess masquerading as a storybook adventurer. The Flynn Ryder to Emmrich's Rapunzel, if you will.

A Trifle — Dragon Age: Inquisition, Gen, Rated General Audiences, 1,376 words

A little scene where Alexius, now assigned by the Inquisitor to work for Fiona, befriends a bunch of mage kids and begrudgingly slips back into his half-forgotten teacher persona. Also there's a cute cat.

I usually write about Alexius' redemption arc in the context of his Enemies to Lovers romance with the a specific Inquisitor, so it was fun to create a general hc/scenario that might fit anywhere, including in my friends' worldstates (should they share my Alexius woobification vision). It's a bit adjacent to blank slate protagonist fics, so a fun challenge for my OC-pilled brain :D

Thanks to everyone who reads this post (and gentle forehead kissies if you decide to follow the links).

I tag @druckkugelschreiber , @whiskynorocks , @bearlytolerant , @sky-scribbles and @lazyadmiral

[emmg]

20 questions for fanfic writers

I've been tagged by a few wonderful boos (@aldisobey & @thepalehorsevictoria and as always I'm like two weeks late to the party, but here goes nothing lmao, and I'm tagging the usual suspects as well as anyone who wants (please tag me if you do, i'm a nosy fuck, i wanna know) @heylittleriotact @jainydoe @lavenderprose @caffeinatedmunchkin (i thiiiink? you did it???? i have a bad memory lol) @rooks-leather-jumpsuit @excited-hiss @rooks-leather-jumpsuit @starfleetteddybear I think everyone did it except me but I have the memory of a napkin so im tagging yall anyway lol

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

43 (wtf lol)

2) What’s your AO3 word count?

548 367 oof how

3) What are your top five fics by Kudos?

We don't talk about Bruuuunooooo, meaning we don't talk about anything written prior to 2023/4. So I'm just gonna count my recent Dragon Age shit.

An In-Depth Analysis of Trying to Get It On (Emmrich yaps and Rook fucks him on the autopsy table)

Something, Something Decorum (Rook steals Emmrich's rings and fucks him—there's a pattern here guys lol)

Herbarium (angst-y, very purple prose-y, overly lyrical, character study-ish 5-parter of Emmrich & Rook's relationship from Emmrich's POV, not yet finished.)

Aftertaste (modern "sugar daddy" Emmrook AU)

Lavender (smutty first time Emmrok one-shot)

4) What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Dragon Age, but every now and then, I might get the urge to write for something else. Just a one-off here and there.

5) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, BUT BUT BUT it takes me forever because I apparently have the emotional resilience of a damp paper towel when people are nice about my writing. I know, shocking, considering the absolute nonsense I spew everywhere else. I love writing. I love the process. But the second I have to acknowledge that someone else enjoys it? My brain files for immediate resignation. I GET SO SHY. Creativity? Fantastic. Embracing it? Absolutely not. Psychological block? Probably just some deep-seated nonsense I don’t have the energy to unpack.

appreciate comments more than I appreciate oxygen. They make me stupidly happy. And if you’ve ever received one from me, you know I have zero chill and will leave an essay. But responding to my own? Suddenly, I forget how to human. Not because I’m ungrateful, just because I’m awkward as hell. So yeah, if you get a random, painfully sheepish thank you from me a month later, just know I’ve been pacing around like a Victorian child with a letter to papa I’m too nervous to send.

6) What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Euh, I mean I'm not finished with it yet, there's one part left, but it would be the Lich!Emmrich x Rook creepy reincarnation/memory loss fic.

7) What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I don't know lol, any of the smutty one-shots, I guess. They all end nicely.

8) Do you get hate on fics?

Nah

9) Do you write smut?

That's almost exclusively what I write nowadays lol. I'm a fiend.

10) Do you write crossovers?

Nah. My brain is too exhausted for that.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nah

13) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Can't say that I have

14) What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Solavellan forever.

15) What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My own book lmao

16) What are your writing strengths?

Idk. I dislike everything I write. I find fault with everything. Being visceral I guess.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm a purple prose monster.

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

Unless absolutely necessary for the plot, don't do it. I say this as a multilingual person.

19) First fandom you wrote for?

I think I wrote some shitty Hunger Games fanfic back in the day.

20) Favorite fic you’ve written?

I like Charlatans a lot. I had fun with it. Even if I'm rewriting the parts 2 & 3 that I lost when I upgraded my computer.

[officialnostradamus]

Rate Your OC ✨

I'm catching up on tags and I was tagged by @dragonagegayz for this fun little character study. Here's just a slightly deeper glimpse into Rook's way of being.

Compassion: 7/10 - he's sweeter than he gives himself credit for. He definitely thinks of himself as self-serving and he can be, hence the seven, but he also takes good care of others, wants the best for even strangers, and hates to see others hurt for no reason. 

Bitterness: 5/10 - A normal, average amount of bitter, I think. He's bitter about some things, a little bitter about the way his mom treated him, and generally about growing up in Tevinter, but those are fair things to be bitter about, so it's middle ground.

Happiness: 7/10 - All things considered, he's doing alright. The world is crashing down around his ears but he has friends and a direction. He does also have some demons. Dealing with his problems with rejection and internalized blame hasn't totally occurred to him yet.

Politeness: 4/10 - Also normal enough, but he makes so many poorly timed jokes and he cannot help himself, it can be a little rude, so one point gets taken away. He knows how to be polite, and he usually is, he's just also a little snarky.

Chivalry: 6/10 - not his strongest suit, not his weakest. Mostly, he trusts people to take care of themselves.

Pride: 2/10 - nope. If he had to worry about his pride, he’d spend too much time nursing the bruises to get anything else done. Because he leans so heavily on humor, falling on his sword is often the quickest way to diffuse a situation. 

Honesty: 5/10 - he’s doing his best to be honest when it matters, but he can also be secretive and he’ll lie outright if the situation calls for it. Or if it’s particularly funny.

Love: 9/10 - Rook has never been afraid of falling.

Bravery: 8/10 - he doesn’t consider himself particularly brave, though it would be hard to argue otherwise, largely because he doesn’t see it. Saving the world is a scary task, no matter how you look at it, and he’s out there. 

Recklessness: 9/10 - it’s sort of his thing. Dangerous portal? Let’s jump. Is the door trapped? If we open it, we’ll know! It’s a bad idea to goad the angry god? Well, maybe they shouldn’t have been so tauntable. 

Ambition: 4/10 - being good at things is something Rook likes, even being the best, but he mostly prefers no one is looking at what he does, unless what he’s doing is telling a dumb joke.

Loyalty: 7/10 - loyalty is a loaded word. Rook is loyal to his friends, to the people he truly loves and cares about, even to his home, but it’s never been a broad feeling for him. His loyalty is small and intimate.

Sense of Family: (What does this mean?) 3/10 - if we’re talking the family that raised him. Raised by human parents in Minrathous as an elf was tricky enough. His mother never forgave him for being who he was, and his father tried to love him, just never more than his station. 

7/10 - if we’re talking about his found family. It’s a little harder because he doesn’t know how to be in a family, but he learned how to love all on his own, and he hopes that’s enough. 

Attractiveness: 7/10 - pretty much everyone in Thedas is really hot, and Rook is just cute enough to stand out in the right circles. (To me, by the way, 10/10, he’s designed to be cute as cute can be.)

Agility: 9/10 - if Rook is still, people wonder if he’s okay. Rook may fall from time to time but he gets back up, he can dodge like a madman, and he like to squeeze into places he probably shouldn’t be in.

Sex Drive: 7/10 - Rook has always been interested in being physical. He’s found enjoyment in short-term lovers and long-standing relationships. Enjoying sex isn’t something he’s ever considered as more than a usual part of life. Wanting Emmrich, however, does make him feel like a starving maniac, a temporary 12/10, then he likes the idea of settling into the comfort of familiarity and intimacy.

**I love him and I will talk about him all the time if you let me. No pressure tagging @dragonagehyperfixationwoo (I know we've seen some cuties, but do you want to talk about them? 🧡) @edvervain (I know you want to talk about them :])

[thesummerstorms]

For the Rook as meme - how about 4 and 20?

Character asks here! Thank you for sending (and I absolutely would love more from anyone who wants to send them in.) Fun fact: this took so long because even though this is stupidly long for a meme response, I have to draft and then cut down the drafts multiple times. I talk too much.

4. What's other people's general impression of Rook? How does Rook come across in conversation?

Even when she's mentally screaming, Arsinoë tries very hard to project an air of "untroubled equanimity". She doesn't always succeed, but she tries, for fear otherwise someone will scent blood in the water. The professionalism is a tool, a filter, and the source of a lot of her "stoic" responses in-game.

On the other hand, some part of Arsinoë was too stubborn to entirely surrender the ideals that her teachers thought they had beaten out of her. And as part of that, she has always has seemed just a little too kind, a little too helpful for a Crow. She always sold it to her teachers as a strategy, but its come back to bite her on as many jobs as it helped. The job always got done (or she'd be dead), but not always as cleanly as they should have. There were other, smaller incidents before the Antaam.

Still, she unflinchingly, publicly shoved an electrified blade through the skulls of members of her own House who thought they could leverage her softness and general camaraderie in the former Fifth Talon's favor during Viago's coup. She did the same during the clean up after, during a brief time when Viago had her acting more as a magical enforcer than the knife she would come to be later.

If anything, that made the other members of House de Riva trust her offers of help and a sympathetic ear much, much less, even when the dust had settled and the offers were mostly genuine. Her role as Viago's "crazy pet mage" and her seeming unpredictability (not driven by glory or material gain, you never quite know where her lines are) kept the rest of the House respectful to her face and stayed their hands, but also isolated her.

When she and Lucanis get together, with Lucanis's own reputation re: The Wigmaker Job and a few other similar incidents in play, I think a few of the more senior Crows had to sit their with their head in their hands for a moment and breath deeply.

5. What do they do when they have some downtime?

Arsinoë tends to start with more practical habits. In particular, she does most of her own sewing and mending, even when theoretically as a Crow she should be bringing in enough money to either pay someone else to do it or to just replace whatever is torn outright. Her needlework isn't always the cleanest, and a fair number of "repaired" items end up for extremely casual wear away from Viago's judging eyes, but she enjoys the task itself.

Occasionally she'll sew other odds and ends for fun, but they tend to come out haphazardly because she doesn't plan well enough in advance. Harding tries to take this as a way to build common ground by teaching her embroidery, but her embroidery is... interesting to say the least.

Once Emmrich joins the team, she also starts studying magic purposefully again. She very pointedly avoids necromancy, but Arsinoë's formal studies of magic were first as a young child in a hostile Circle and then in the Crows, who were mainly focused on magic as a conduit for killing. Having access to Emmrich's expertise and willing guidance feels like an unexpected blessing, a way of stretching her muscles as a mage that was previously denied to her, and she soaks it up like a sponge. Once Bellara takes notice, the Veiljumper absolutely tries to draw Arsinoë in to talk about magical theory, although their fields of expertise are so different they both end up confused more often than not.

Other than some of Emmrich's magical theory books and other necessary research, she only reads sporadically, because it's difficult to find the focus and energy at the end of a long day when her whole brain had been locked in focused on something else. But when she does, it tends to be travelogues or popular histories that she can finish off in one or two sittings. (She has a bone to pick with Brother Genitivi based on his descriptions of Bastion and Salle...)

Arsinoë is also a musician, although she goes to lengths to hide it from the team at first. She learned to play the lute for a job as a young Crow and continued when Viago saw it as a way to force some "refinement" on her, but by the time of Veilguard its been two or three years since she practiced. She's deeply embarrassed of the resulting loss of skill and only picks up the instrument again once she's certain the music room is well sound proofed. It takes discovery by Neve and some coaxing for her to play where other people in the Lighthouse might hear her.

[flowersforthemachines]

Some facts about Lucanis (and also Spite and the Crows) gathered from the banters

I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).

Note: This list may not be exhaustive. I might have missed some something or didn't write it down because I considered it common knowledge. If you have anything to add, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from, though)

Note 2: Posts from this series (mostly) don't include information from banters specific to quests or between companions and faction members. I plan to do another playthrough to capture more of those and will add any relevant info to the character posts.

Other characters' posts: Bellara, Davrin, Harding, Emmrich, Neve, Taash. I'm also planning a post about just the Lighthouse some time later

About Lucanis: 

Family and the past:

Lucanis learnt to cook while helping the kitchen staff at the villa when he was a little boy. One of his motivations was learning how to make churros

Side note: Lucanis mentions that cioccolata calda was his favourite drink when he was a baby, and he serves churros to a romanced Rook who picks cioccolata calda as their favourite drink. It’s all coming together! 

Lucanis wanted to be a Crow when he was a child (at least most of the time)  

All of Lucanis's relatives were Crows as well, and all of them were killed by a rival Crow house

Lucanis says Caterina would be proud of Illario hiding his plans well, as well as killing her 

Lucanis says that the hard part about setting Illario free would be convincing Caterina 

Lucanis says that nightlife was more of Illario's thing, and he never got out as much

On Crows and Antiva:

Viago still stares daggers at Lucanis for throwing his (Viago's) pet snake out of the window in a dream

Lucanis doesn't like it when people confuse murder and assassination ("Murderers are hobbyists, we are professionals")

Lucanis has taken contracts in Orlais

Lucanis doesn’t know Treviso as well as he once used to 

Heir didn’t train Lucanis

Lucanis says he has never killed an innocent “by his count” (other people may disagree) 

Lucanis doesn’t think of the Crows as a “big organisation” (unlike the Inquisition) because they stab each other too much

Lucanis became a mage-killer at Caterina’s behest (she wanted to tap into new markets)

The nickname “The Demon of Vyrantium” came from Tevinter news-sheets, though Lucanis thinks Viago started it

Lucanis says that there aren't any special tricks to killing mages. Though, if nothing else works, you can try pissing them off, as that could attract a demon that would eat the mage

Lucanis once killed half a dozen venatori while stuck inside an elevator 

Lucanis doesn’t consider himself a gentleman assassin, manners are less important than getting the job done

Lucanis sometimes spares his targets. He mentioned letting go of a servant who killed her master, as well as a 14-year-old boy. He thinks it’s wrong to kill people so young because they still have time to change

Lucanis doesn’t accept contracts without merit, and the merit is decided by the talon of the house

General:

Lucanis can make bread

Lucanis has never been to Ferelden

Lucanis isn’t interested in killing wyverns, just looking at them :)  

Lucanis has a pet snake 

Lucanis stays awake at night by cleaning his gear, exercising, studying Orlesian and knitting ("it’s just another kind of blade work") 

Lucanis doesn’t understand a lot of things people find attractive

(In a conversation with Harding) Thinking about cooking was one of the things that helped Lucanis stay sane in the Ossuary (the other was thinking about killing his enemies) 

(In a conversation with Davrin) Lucanis survived the Ossuary by shutting down and not thinking about anything except escaping

These two points sort of contradict each other. Either an inconsistency or Lucanis describing his experience differently to different people. 

The Wetlands ruined at least one pair of Lucanis’s boots

(If Rook chooses to save Treviso) Lucanis offers to pay for any supplies the Shadow Dragons may need 

Lucanis doesn't get a better bed because he's afraid of accidentally falling asleep 

Lucanis can identify the killer’s weapon and the height difference between them and the target just through the blood splatter left at the scene

Lucanis considers Grey Wardens dangerous 

Lucanis doesn’t like necromancy, because bringing people back to life is a waste of hard work

Lucanis finds the ice coffee from Minrathous offensive (Harding describes it as “snow, but made of coffee, sweet, and with cream and toffee sauce on top”)

Lucanis had never been in a romantic relationship before Rook/Neve

Relationships with other companions: 

Lucanis gets into reading Bellara’s serials (very passionately - they chat about it a bunch)

Lucanis is outraged that the Veil Jumpers don’t get paid for their work and offers Bellara his contract negotiator

Lucanis made biscuits for Assan

Lucanis is sceptical that the griffons will be safe with the Wardens

Lucanis think that Assan shouldn’t go soft (referring to the time he took care of a halla) because he is a predator at heart

(If Emmrich becomes a lich) Lucanis offers to hold a funeral for Manfred

Lucanis and Harding talk a lot about dreams (mostly silly things like showing up naked for the job, getting chased by someone/something etc.)

Lucanis thinks Harding is deadly with her bow

Lucanis offers to pay Harding for being his lookout/aide at the rate of 6000 gold per contract

Lucanis offers the help of his contract negotiator to Neve after he finds out she doesn't have one

Lucanis made deep-fried peppers for Taash

About Spite: 

Emmrich can hear Spite even when he doesn’t take over Lucanis’s body (at least from a close distance)

Spite is impartial to Emmrich, believing him more than Lucanis

Emmrich says it’s impossible to separate Spite and Lucanis without killing them

Emmrich encourages Lucanis to read to Spite to bring them closer. Lucanis agrees to let Spite pick a book

(If Emmrich becomes a lich) Spite asks if he and Lucanis can get rid of their skin too 

(If Manfred is revived at the Necropolis) Spite asks Emmrich to teach him how to use fire magic. Lucanis isn’t thrilled by the idea

Emmrich sets up wards to prevent Spite from leaving the room when Lucanis is asleep

Spite no longer sleepwalks after “Inner Demons” because he apparently understood the concept of space

By the end of the game, Spite has agreed to stop sleepwalking completely

Spite controls the wings (confirmed in banter with Harding) 

Spite wants to try swinging off the astrolabe at the Lighthouse

Spite is very excited about Manfred having hands and feet (Curiosity. Has. Feet!)

Spite finds the wisps in Neve’s room unnerving (as do Lucanis and Neve)

Spite likes to play with whetstones Bellara got for Lucanis (Bellara got them from the Irelin who supposedly got them from somewhere in Arlathan) 

Spite wants to try eating self-lightning candles at Blackthorne Manor

About the Crows: 

Crows frequently visit Nevarra and have received 20 contacts to assassinate the king. The King has been poisoned 7 times

Crows get a lot of contracts for Divine Victoria

Some seers in Rivain are powerful enough that there are contracts on them as well

Caterina once killed a man with a thimble

When Crows kill someone, most of the time they want others to know it was them (rather than presenting the death as an accident) 

The crows buried six different Eight Talons and rarely take contracts in Ferelden after the Zevran fiasco

[mediumsizedwildcat]

For the Rook questionnaire, 25 and 45 for all four of your Rooks!

Very interesting questions and something I've wondered and thought about before! Thank you for asking! <3

Unfortunately, my answers will probably be very basic xD but i also don't know that many characters off the top of my head, so... Forgive me for being basic? xD

If you want to ask more questions from the Rook questionnaire (it's spoiler free), my ask box is open and I welcome any and all questions about them! (my rooks)

This is a looong post, so I'm putting a read more cut here :3

25. How does Rook like to spend their free time?

a. Luke definitely likes to read, though he hasn't allowed himself much free time. With the Shadow Dragons he was mostly working, only brushing up on some things so he wouldn't stand out too much. Of course he had to hone his skills, too. In a way, the Veilguard actually show him how to relax. Now he watches Davrin carve and might even take up drawing in the future, who knows? He also sews so he doesn't forget how to fix his armors and clothes.

b. Before the Veilguard, Stellan never really had free time. They're too used to being the target, so they've been doing stuff that looked intimidating, like sharpening weapons or training. In the Lighthouse, they're trying to learn about the things the others like. They're learning how to make coffee for Lucanis, trying to figure out how to get through to him that Spite is a person, too, reading the books the Lighthouse's bookclub is up to, learning the finer arts of cooking... They're also writing down what transpired so far and sometimes just sit and stare at the walls, thinking everything that's happened so far through.

c. Nalaya absolutely loves entertaining Manfred. He helps him with his chores, asks him for tea, tries to get a closer look at everything in and around Manfred. She enjoys dragon talk, too, or listening to Emmrich's seemingly endless wisdom. Training with Davrin and Lucanis, philosophical conversations with the Caretaker, you name it. Only reading gives him a headache, so he leaves that up to the professor. And when Nalaya's really lucky, he can find Emmrich in a position where he can just slot in and get some cuddles.

d. Robin has spent the last few years fighting darkspawn and is secretly terrified by their new forms, so he's using Davrin's carvings and some rough drawings he made himself to study them. Antoine is right, the Blight is changed, and it scares the shit out of Robin. However, when he's not studying one of his new fears, he likes to explore. The Lighthouse, the save parts of the Crossroads, and of course Solas. Which means going through drawers and every conversation he's had with the man. He keeps busy with work and tries his best to help people, so there isn't much free time for him, anyway.

45. Who was Rook’s closest friend before joining the Veilguard?

a. Luke didn't have that many friends. Of course he knows fellow Shadow Dragons and could cooperate with them, but what does “close” even mean? He did like to get on Tarquin's nerves and Tarquin let him get away with it the most, but does that make them close friends? Probably not. Luke may also be a bit too paranoid to have close friends, always looking where he could help the most people and how. Unfortunately, the answer is Tarquin, and Luke wouldn't like this question.

b. Stellan's closest friend... Well, as an Antivan Crow, Stellan didn't make friends with most others. There's a sort of friendship going on with Viago, but Stellan has a hard time trusting people. They weren't born into a house and became a Talon's favourite, so friendship tends to mean a dagger in their back. No, thank you. Even with Viago it is a very tentative relationship, though it might count as the “closest” friendship he's had. They work hard, alone, and don't mess up contracts. (Being able to leave was a blessing in disguise.)

c. Nalaya's closest friends before the Veilguard were wisps. There are many of them in the Necropolis and Nalaya trusted them with a lot of things. He even went on a date with a wisp once! They were both children then, but wisps tend to be more understanding than mortal people, in his experience. If hard pressed about his closest mortal friends, he'd have to say VORGOTH and Myrna. Really, he prefers the company of fadefolk.

d. Robin's closest friends are hands down Anotine and Evka. When he joined the Wardens he was in a bad place, mentally and physically, and he fought every Darkspawn he could see. While he wasn't the friendliest (Evka had to knock him out a few times) Antoine and Evka never gave up on him. He wouldn't be the man he is today without them, and he's not afraid to admit that anymore. They taught him kindness and compassion and blighted or not, he wouldn't have it any other way.

[bendingwind]

Hi you wanted to hear more about my Dragon Age world states, didn't you? Naturally you do. I have more PCs than are listed here because I've played Inquisition *mumble mumble* times, these are just my three worldstates that are complete and that I've played end to end.

can't help but pull the earth around me

This is my sandbox worldstate, where I play each game blind and make decisions solely based on ~character vibes~ (I usually make choices within characterization for my PCs, but I craft the PCs that would make the decisions that lead to the story I'm trying to tell in later playthroughs. In this worldstate I just create whomever.)

The Hero of Ferelden is Elemere Cousland, bastard daughter of Eleanor Cousland, though acknowledged by Bryce Cousland. Her bastardry is a semi-open secret given that she looks nothing like either of her parents and her mother's affair wasn't entirely discreet, so she's trained to be a warrior because it's felt her prospects will be better in the army than the marriage market. She learns she's a bastard pretty early in life, and works very hard to prove she's good enough all her life. Her relationship with Fergus is rocky, but she's very close to her mother and to Bryce, who favors her. She and Alistair fall in love, though the path to that is not exactly smooth, and she marries him after the Blight. She's the POV "you" in Hero.

Marian Hawke spars with her father from an early age, and thankfully shows no signs of magic. However, when her sister is revealed to be a mage, her parents make the decision to send her to train as a templar in Gwaren, feeling it will take suspicion off the family if there's a templar sibling. She is deeply unhappy with her training and tries repeatedly to get herself dismissed, with no luck. She begins seducing chantry novices, but none of them will turn her in, until she hears of her father's illness and arranges to be caught herself, after which she is finally dismissed. Bethany nurses her through her lyrium withdraw; possibly at the cost of keeping their father alive, for which Bethany never forgives her. You know most of the rest of the story, but in this one, Bethany is a Circle Mage and Marian sides with the mages despite her misgivings due to her mother's death at the hands of blood magic.

The Inquisitor is Emira Adaar, qunari mercenary from Aqun'anti-koslun, a large settlement of Vashoth and Tal-Vasoth west of Wildervale. They support themselves through some farming but mostly through various mercenary bands, including the Valo-Kas. Emira Adaar was second-in-command of the Valo-Kas, a position she inherited from her cousin Mayan Adaar, before becoming Inquisitor. You know most of her story, too, but: she recruited the mages and she shared a certain multi-cultural, self-discovery journey with Sera. She's briefly mentioned in and yet, by heaven, i think my love as rare though I don't remember in how much detail. When that was intended to be a series, she was Dorian's soulmate (soulmates are often platonic in this 'verse).

Lynette "Rook" Ingellvar has been raised by the Mourn Watch since she was found abandoned as an infant (she's the bastard daughter of a bastard Pentaghast and only 3/4 elven, but she doesn't know that and never learns that and goes through a whole phase of studying her heritage as a teenager). As an ambitious young woman she is put in a position of responsibility but upsets several nobles, resulting in being temporarily sent away from Nevarra to accompany Varric on his adventures, and well, we all know where it goes from there. She pursues Emmrich out of ambition initially, but ends up falling in love with him and encouraging him to fill his life's dream and become a lich. She saves Treviso, loses Harding, and gets her happy ending.

and all of the ghouls come out to play

This is my canon worldstate, the first one I seriously plan out. It features the PCs who had the highest odds of making the cut (there are flowcharts and I once built a calculator specifically to figure out the odds of any given PC being the main character of a given game. I am a nerd, this should surprise no one.)

The Hero of Ferelden is Anatia Brosca, casteless dwarf of Orzammar. Anatia has been roaming the Deep Roads since she was a child, in search of Deep Mushrooms to sell to help support her family and her mother's drinking habit. She's discovered there by the cartel, who put her to work in their smuggling operations. Her story spirals out from there, and she falls in love with Zevran along the way, two mercenary-minded people finding a way to be together precisely because the level of trust between them is so clearly defined.

Marian Hawke is a mage, and furious at the world for the way it has treated her. Despite his mistrust of mages and her mistrust of him, she and Fenris find a way to be together.

The Inquisitor is Mayan Adaar, reluctant qunari mercenary. As a child growing up in Aqun'anti-koslun, she wanted to be a tamaassran, but her magic manifested when she was fourteen and she was redirected into training as a mercenary mage, all the healer support mage roles being filled. She almost gets out after rising to command the Valo-Kas (Shokrakar oversees all of the mercenary bands in my headcanon, not the Valo-Kas specifically) and marrying her second-in-command; when she gets pregnant, she is able to secure a position teaching new mages back in Aqun'anti-koslun and plans to retire. However, as they make their way back to Aqun'anti-koslun, they are attacked, and her husband is slain and she loses her unborn child. She miserably assumes command of the Valo-kas once again, and there her story begins. Wary of magic like most Vashoth mages who are only so far removed from the Qun, she sides with the templars, and she ends up with the Iron Bull. She features in half a dozen, at least.

In progress: Velriel "Rook" Aldwin, Veil Jumper and Davrin romancer

under the starry skies we are lost

This one features some of my absolute favorite PCs. Why isn't it my canon state, then, you ask? Because all of them are extremely unlikely to end up where they do (except Marian Hawke who has a 50/50 chance of being a mage I reckon). Also because this is the worldstate where I ignore canon the most.

The Hero of Ferelden is Noirin Surana, elven mage. She was born to a Denerim washerwoman and a passing Dalish elf, and passed on to the Circle at the earliest opportunity when her magic manifested. At the Circle she was badly mistreated, but a promising student nonetheless. However, her nerves and anxiety due to her mistreatment cause her Harrowing to be pushed back a few times, until she is finally Harrowed at 25, after which our story begins. She romances Morrigan thanks to the power of mods, and when it comes time to conceive the old god baby, she tricks Morrigan into agreeing to a threesome by stating it's the only way Alistair will agree, hijacks the magic and works some more magic so that she ends up the one pregnant, and then marches off to fight the archdemon. Morrigan doesn't realize anything's up for a couple months, after which she seeks out Noirin, Noirin confesses, and they ride off into the sunset together after bickering a whole lot. Noirin makes an appearance in all my possessions for a moment of time.

Marian Hawke is not a mage, and once again gets sent to the templars as in the first 'verse.

The Inquisitor is Eilona "Trev" Trevelyan, youngest daughter of Bann and Lady Trevelyan. The Trevelyans traditionally have three children; one for the land, one for the Order, and one for the Chantry. When her elder sister Cateline, destined for the Chantry, proves to be a mage, her parents decide to have another child: Eilona. Eilona is free-spirited and a bit wild, and runs off with her cousin Arina to tour the countryside at a young age, where she falls into a number of bad habits, chief among them drugs like "blue ruin", an addictive lyrium/deathroot/royal elfroot admixture. After she nearly dies of an overdose at eighteen while touring Kirkwall, her parents send her to live with her aunt in the Hercinia Chantry, and after a couple of years of good behavior they allow her to come home. However, she quickly falls into bad habits again, resulting in another trip to the Chantry, and after a few years of back-and-forth like this, a mostly-clean Trev is sent to represent the Ostwick Chantry with several sisters at the Conclave, where she becomes Inquisitor. Cullen knew of her reputation in Kirkwall and is initially very judgemental and dismissive of her, while she falls in love with him. When she discovers how he really feels she is deeply hurt, but works to shape up and live up to his expectations. He, in the meantime, comes to see the good side of her with some unsubtle nudges on the part of Leliana, and they fall in love. Also she sides with the mages in remembrance of her sister, who dies attending the conclave as a mage representative. She's in runaway and Blue Ruin (WIP).

Antonia "Anette" "Rook" de Riva was orphaned at a very young age, when the king ordered her family (minor nobility from near Brynnlaw) assassinated. She was found after the killings, and brought back to House de Riva by her birth parents' assassin, Cayetano. He and his husband Liam, a former Orlesian bard he met in his line of work, raise her for a few years until they are killed in the same internal battles for power that kill Lucanis' parents. Anette, six, is sent to become a fledgling. Three years later, a sixteen-year-old Viago joins the Crows, and Anette takes him under her wing and teaches him the ropes of fledgling life. They are often partnered together in the years that follow, until he gains his mastery through his understanding of poisons and she lags behind, her magic having finally manifested and caused her career to pause for retraining. After she learns to control her magic, Anette is primarily used for jobs that need to be flashy and brutal and often large in scale, which means they pay well but are fewer and farther between. Additionally, because she is flashy by design, many Crows look down on her and she is not in high regard when she attacks the Antaam and is sent off with Varric. She and Lucanis fall in love, though it's not a great match and they struggle a lot.

honorable mention

Because I love her I also have to mention Inquisitor Ynés Lavellan, who lost her entire family except for her son and spent years finding work as a guide taking academics, lords of fortune and other looters to elven sites to make enough money to support herself and her son after being unable to find a clan that could take another mage. She eventually rejoins clan Lavellan after two of their mages die in an epidemic and brings her son Mihail (another of my PCs) with her. By the time of Inquisition she is 42 years old and attends as a spy for her clan; she sides with the mages naturally, and romances Blackwall, though they nearly don't make it through the reveal of his true identity and her son never forgives him. Also she punches Solas because he's a dick about the Dalish, and I consider this a core component of her characterization. She's in sing me a lullaby.

Because I love him, I also have to mention Isbrand "Brand" "Rook" Thorne, Grey Warden and Neve romancer. He's featured in A Boy's Plan, in which he thinks he can evade going to a Circle by joining the Grey Wardens directly, and is set straight.

[nerdanel01]

Pt. II - Soothe

EmmRook hurt/comfort, pre-Veilguard, 4k wc cw: graphic descriptions of a compound fracture (there be bones here and not the horny kind) SUMMARY: When Emmrich hears his young assistant has been involved in a violent altercation in the Mourn Watch mess hall, he rushes to her defense.

“You know Morten Isaakson as well as I do,” Emmrich began. “Do you really think Agnes alone is responsible for what happened? Do you think she would attack him unprovoked?”

“No, I do not,” Helena conceded, curtly, dryly. “But Agnes sent Morten to the infirmary with his inside bones on his outsides, so I thought that, perhaps, given the circumstances, a conversation about the proportionality of her response was probably appropriate.” 

----------

Emmrich Volkarin did not like to push; he did not like to shove. He considered the high standard good manners and decorum to which he held himself to be a mark of his character. And in the sacred, solemn halls of the Grand Necropolis, he endeavored never to run— not unless exceptional urgency was warranted. 

Nevertheless, he came very close to rudely knocking shoulders with more than one fellow Watcher as he hastened through the crowded Necropolis halls to Commander Helena Lowe’s office.

The residence was always busy at this time of day—assigned shifts and patrols were changing over within the Necropolis itself, and in the Mourn Watch mess hall, lunch was being served. Emmrich winced as he tried to slide his way through the crush, regretting his brusqueness—but he found himself incapable of slowing his step. Instead, for all the good it did, he kept up a near constant litany of apology:

“Excuse me, please—pardon me—I’m so sorry, coming through—”

What Agnes had been thinking, attacking a fellow Watcher, Emmrich had no idea. It had been almost five years since Johanna had brought Agnes to the Necropolis to serve as Emmrich’s assistant, but despite that span of time, and the attempts he had made to get to know her better, Agnes was still mostly inscrutable to him. 

But Helena! Helena Lowe, Emmrich had known for a long time—nearly as long as he’d known Johanna. And it was Helena he judged, for dragging Agnes to her office for a reprimand, instead of sending her to the infirmary to recover from the beating that had been visited upon her. 

Not that Johanna herself had behaved much better: it was she who had delivered the news to Emmrich, grinning smugly, thoroughly pleased with herself. She’d slipped into his study without knocking, as usual—and when her entrance had diverted Emmrich’s attention from his book, and earned her a questioning glance, Johanna had savored it. She waited until she had dropped herself into the armchair beside him before she spoke.  “You are welcome to thank me again,” she had told him, from her leisurely collapse, eyes glittering with pleasure and pride. “Profusely, adoringly—preferably, extravagantly. As usual, I’ve been proven right.”

Emmrich loved Johanna, but he knew that when she had that look about her, it was rarely good news. Cautiously, he took the bait: “About what?”

“About that girl I brought you from Perendale,” Johanna replied, and Emmrich’s heart sank—she could only be talking about Agnes. “I told you that your little protégé would take to necromancy like a duck to water, eventually.” Then Johanna chuckled—a dark, throaty sound—and added, with a tilt to her grin that made Emmrich nearly shudder, “With the proper motivation, of course.” 

Indeed, it seemed Agnes’ necromancy was in far less need of additional remedial studies than her professors in the Watch had suggested—although Emmrich had no idea what Agnes could have possibly found to be adequate motivation to misuse her necromancy to break a fellow Watchers’ arms—instantaneously— in four places.

The crowd had thinned considerably by the time Emmrich reached the more public hallways where Helena’s office was located. He did not realize he had broken out into a sprint until he had burst through her door, breathing heavily.

Helena lifted her head with a scowl to see who had interrupted without knocking—but Emmrich hardly glanced at her.

He was looking instead at the face craning around the high back of the chair in front of Helena’s desk: bruised and swollen around the eye, split at the lip, nose bloodied… the dark hair that framed it uncharacteristically loose and untidy.

“Merciful Maker, Helena,” Emmrich swore, his voice trembling with emotion. “She’s still bleeding.”

Agnes turned her face away from him, as if to spare him the sight of the blood. Not soon enough, however, that Emmrich didn’t catch the way she grinned—the way her broken bottom lip oozed blood awfully at the stretch. When she spoke, that swollen lip made her words less articulate than usual—but despite that, and the sting it must have caused her to speak, she sounded only pleased, and satisfied:  “If you think this is bad,” Agnes gloated, “you should see Morten.”

In fact, Emmrich had seen Morten Isaakson in the infirmary—that was where he had headed first, assuming (as Johanna had told her that Agnes had been subjected to a round of violent kicking from Morten’s gang of friends) that he would find Agnes there, as well. Morten himself had been shrieking, unreasonable with outrage and pain—the sound was terrible—and the healers could hardly calm him to set his broken bones… which were still staring, their yellow pinked with blood from the break, out from the bloodied gashes in his forearms.

And despite himself—despite how absolutely horrid, yes, and taboo it was among the Mortalitasi to use one’s necromancy against the living in such a way—Emmrich had to admit: he was impressed. 

“Wipe that grin off your face, Agnes Gallatus—you should be ashamed of yourself for what you have done, not proud.” Helena’s attention was now fully refocused on the young Watcher seated in front of her desk, and her voice was hard. “Your necromancy is never to be used against your fellow Watchers in such a way! You’ll be assigned cleaning duties in the Cobalt Ossuary for three months, at least, and— roll your eyes at me again, Agnes, and I will pluck them straight from their sockets. ” 

Emmrich knew Helena, and so he knew it was an idle threat, delivered in frustration; still, his heart gave a pang, and he stepped forward until he was standing behind Agnes’ chair, close enough to lower his hand—gently, protectively—onto her shoulder. 

(Agnes stiffened at the contact, her muscles tightening under his touch. Emmrich briefly second-guessed himself, and wondered if he should release her… before he felt her body relax, soften under his touch.)

“You know Morten Isaakson as well as I do,” Emmrich began, addressing Helena only. “Do you really think Agnes alone is responsible for what happened? Do you think she would attack him unprovoked?”

“No, I do not,” Helena conceded, curtly, dryly. “But Agnes sent Morten to the infirmary with his inside bones on his outsides, so I thought that, perhaps, given the circumstances, a conversation about the proportionality of her response was probably appropriate.” 

…and if Emmrich were capable of seeing things objectively, he might have agreed with that. But ever since Agnes had arrived at the Necropolis, Emmrich had felt it was his duty to look out for her. After all, Johanna had cruelly uprooted Agnes from Perendale and everything she had ever known or wanted—without consulting Agnes in the matter—for Emmrich’s sake. Agnes owed him nothing. If anything, perhaps, she should resent him. Instead….

Instead, when Emmrich had begun to suspect the whole arrangement had been a terrible mistake, and offered Agnes the chance to leave the Watch… she had stayed. She had served as his companion on numerous expeditions into the most remote and perilous reaches of the Necropolis, and never once complained. And when she discovered his fear of death, she had held his hands to comfort him, and despite his attempts (half-hearted, perhaps) to discourage her, she had sworn to protect him.

It was… too much, that loyalty. A fealty Emmrich had not deserved and did not earn.

It was the very least he could do in return, to look after her now. 

“No,” Emmrich asserted. “What would be appropriate would be to conduct this conversation at a later time—after she is rested and healed, the same as Morten. There is nothing so urgent about this reprimand that you cannot deliver it tomorrow.” He turned back to Agnes, leaning down just a bit as he spoke to her, softly:

“Come with me, dear. I’ll clean you up.”

Agnes tilted her face to look up at him, and Emmrich got his first good look at her: the blood smeared and trickling from her nose and her split lip, the bruises beginning to bloom around her left eye. Emmrich felt twin swells of affection and anger rise in him at once—not lessened at all when Agnes turned her gaze, anxiously, back to Helena, as if asking permission.

From behind the desk, her head in her hands, Helena only conceded with a weary sigh. “Go.”

Emmrich did his best not to fret over her, but it was proving difficult; soon after the door to Commander Lowe’s office clicked softly shut behind them, the extent of Agnes’ injuries became evident. She was in rough shape. Emmrich had to slow the pace of his step so that she could keep up with him—favoring her right leg, her gait uneven and shuffling. Though she did her best to hide it, Emmrich did not miss her little sharp intakes of breath, the pained gasps she tried to muffle as she hobbled alongside him. 

He had intended to lead her to his study, where they would not be interrupted. But his study was far from the Necropolis entrance, and the halls were so crowded, and she would be jostled—and now, upon reflection, Emmrich did not think he could bear to subject her to the trip. 

The public parlors were at their busiest during this time of the day, when the Mourn Watch kept appointments to plan upcoming internments, and the Necropolis itself was open for guided visitation. Just down the hall from Helena’s office, however, Emmrich found a parlor that had been recently vacated: the skeleton thralls had yet to come and clear away the tea and biscuits from the table. “In here,” Emmrich beckoned, holding the door open for Agnes. As she gingerly eased her body into one of the overstuffed, maroon arm chairs arranged around the tea table, Emmrich shut and locked the door behind them to insure they would not be disturbed.

The chair she had settled into was close to the coffee table. Emmrich delicately slid the tea tray back across its surface, then perched on the end of it, close enough to Agnes’ chair that he could reach out to her.

Agnes looked at him, eyes wide—a perfect ring of white visible around the soft, downfeather grey of her irises—as though he had done something unthinkable. 

It occurred to him, with only a brief, hot lance of shame: until now, she had probably never witnessed him seat himself so brazenly, so disrespectfully upon a piece of furniture not intended for it.

But while Emmrich revered, even enjoyed the strictness and structure of etiquette, there was a time for everything—and a time to know when to let go of such rules. 

Her lip was still bleeding….

Emmrich reached into his pocket for one of his monogrammed handkerchiefs—he was never without them. It was good manners, of course, but especially useful in the Necropolis, where one might always come across someone grieving and in need. He gathered the soft fabric in his hand, lifted it to Agnes face, to her gashed lip—

—and she flinched away from him. And it felt like his heart had cracked in two.

But he silently scolded himself, wordlessly. Urged himself not to take it too personally. He remembered their trip to Perendale four years ago, and what he’d unwittingly revealed of Agnes’ past when he had corpse-whispered her mother. Though the details had not been specific, it had been rather strongly suggested that Agnes’ father had been physically abusive to her—Emmrich should have known better than to reach for her so suddenly, without warning, without asking permission, first in Helena’s office, and now here. He wanted to kick himself for his thoughtlessness. 

But as he admonished himself, Agnes offered a different explanation:

“Blood stains awfully,” she said, quietly, regarding the fine silk in Emmrich’s hand. “It’ll ruin your handkerchief.”

Emmrich’s upper lip gave an ugly twitch.

What must Agnes think of him—what must she think of herself —that she assumed the handkerchief was more precious to him than her comfort?

He was angry at himself, angry at Morten, angry at her father—angry at anyone who had ever made her feel unworthy—but he swallowed that rage and his own impatience and made his voice as gentle as possible.

“If need be, I’ll replace it,” he said, and offered her the handkerchief. “Please?”

Agnes looked at the handkerchief again as though it physically pained her to do so—but then she sighed in acquiescence, and took it, delicately, from his hand. “Thank you,” she mumbled, as she began to wipe the blood from her mouth.

…she was so tough—so resilient—so protective of him, that it was easy to forget… but he saw her, now, bruised and bloodied on that massive armchair, just as he had seen her when they had first met: she was a slip of a girl. Easy to overlook or dismiss from afar; she did not move or carry herself in a way that looked particularly deadly or capable.When Johanna had brought Agnes to Nevarra City,  Emmrich had been skeptical that Agnes was fit in any way to assist him… but he had learned quickly not to underestimate her.

It seemed Morten had made the same mistake. Emmrich did not envy the rude surprise Morten had suffered when he learned that Agnes was far more capable than most people estimated—especially when she was pushed.

Still, skilled as she may have been in necromancy or other magics, she had not stood much chance against four pairs of boots, once Morten’s friends had dragged her to the ground—especially after the mana she would have expended snapping Morten’s arms like twigs. 

Selfishly, Emmrich reached for Agnes’ face, first. The bruise blooming around the eye was almost certainly not the most painful or pressing of her injuries, but Emmrich couldn’t bear to look at it. “May I?” he asked, and waited for Agnes to nod her head in consent this time before he pushed a strand of dark hair away from her face… cupped his hand around the swelling at the socket of her eye, and pulled a thread of magic from the fade.

Agnes winced as the healing magic made contact—then let out a tight hiss of relief as the swelling in her face abated. “Sorry, sorry,” Emmrich apologized, abashed, embarrassed. He was a capable healer, but did not have the most delicate touch… he’d had much less practice invoking his magic upon the living. Or at least, he hadn’t, until recently: 

With Agnes now a full fledged Watcher, he’d found plenty of occasions to practice his skill—as, over and over, Agnes had flung herself recklessly into the path of danger… for him. 

After their disastrous expedition last year—when he’d been wounded terribly, and when the full extent of his cowardice had been revealed to Agnes—when he’d succumbed to another panic attack, bleeding in her arms… Agnes’ commitment to him had taken on an inappropriate, zealous devotion. 

He did not know what was more ridiculous. This young woman, pledging to protect a grown man nearly twice her age… or the fact that Emmrich was actually comforted by it . That he was so happy and eager to hide behind the shield readily offered by a twenty four year old girl. He ought to have refused Agnes’ promise. It was ridiculous… 

…and yet however ridiculous it was, Emmrich could not deny this simple fact: when he was with Agnes, he felt safe.

As the bruising around her eye healed, Emmrich lowered his hands to cover her stomach, where (his magic told him) she had been kicked violently, repeatedly—and he promised her, low and severe, “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” 

Agnes gave a sharp inhale as the magic began to mend her the damage to her abdomen. “The Cobalt Ossuary is not so terrible,” she said, trying to keep her tone light despite the tightness in her lungs as she braced against her pain. She grimaced, more than smiled at him around the silk of his handkerchief as she added: “And I can handle a little cleaning.”

Emmrich felt his nostrils flaring, his mustache twitching with his displeasure. “I don’t care,” he asserted, “that’s beside the point. I won’t have anyone disciplining you for defending yourself against—against bullies. ”

At the word ‘bullies,’ Agnes snorted derisively—then gasped, clutched her side, and winced. Emmrich frowned, feeling his way around the inside of her body with his magic, following the strong lines of her bones—had Morten’s friends kicked her forcefully enough to fracture one of her ribs? 

But “I hurt Morten first,” Agnes said, after a breath of recovery. Her eyes glittered with a wicked, malicious delight when she added, “And I knew there would be consequences… one of which is that, I’m sure, Morten will never say anything to me again like he did today.” 

She shrugged, and smiled—and a flower-shaped red stain blossomed on the silk of his handkerchief with the wideness and wildness of her grin:

“Three months in the Cobalt Ossuary is a small price to pay for the satisfaction of his silence.”

Emmrich had to suppress a grin at that, biting his tongue and averting his eyes. No wonder Helena had been frustrated with her: Agnes was shameless about what she’d done—and there was something so brightly audacious, so self-assured about it that Emmrich could not help but admire. 

He did not think three, nor six, nor twelve months’ worth of cleaning in the Cobalt Ossuary would make her any less remorseless.

And as he found himself smiling at that, he was reminded of Johanna… and his smile faltered. The other Watchers sometimes puzzled over his friendship with Johanna, but the truth was that Emmrich was more like her than he would ever care to admit. Johanna, too, had delighted in Agnes’ violence—he recalled the way that Johanna had swung into his study, amused, laughin….

Emmrich kept his tone cool and his eyes averted as he moved his hands from Agnes’ stomach to her leg, and asked, “What did Morten say that upset you so?”

The question was met with resounding silence. When he chanced a glance at Agnes, he saw that her eyes were turned away from his, deep in thought, a little furrow between her dark brows. 

He did not know whether to be more or less reassured by the fact that she made no attempt to lie to him, despite her reluctance to be truthful. 

Gently, he prodded: “Was it really so terrible that you cannot bear to repeat it?”

“Does it matter?” Agnes asked him, snappishly, glowering at him from behind his handkerchief. “I told you: it’s over now. He said something obscene and foolish; he won’t make the same mistake twice.”

She was so reactive—so defensive. But though she hardly intended it, her reaction was also revealing. Emmrich had known Agnes for five years. He would not dare to say that he knew her well, but in that not inconsiderable span of time, he had never seen Agnes get angry on her own behalf. 

Emmrich paused. Pulled his hands away from her body and folded them into his lap. He met her eyes and held them so that she could not hide from him when he asked:

“Did Morten say something about me?”

Her shocked look, and the long silence that followed, were both more than enough to confirm his suspicion.

Agnes tore her eyes away. By the tension in her jaw and the pucker in her cheek, he could tell she was chewing at the inside of her mouth. And when she spoke to him… once again, she didn’t lie. But she didn’t answer him either.

“You are above reproach,” she said, darkly—intensely. “Morten has no justification for saying anything untoward about you.”

But despite the conviction in her voice, Agnes wouldn’t look at him. For the first time since he’d burst into Helena’s office, Agnes looked uneasy—and a little ashamed. 

“They fractured two of your ribs,” Emmrich said, at last, changing the subject. “We should go to the infirmary to have the healers fix those—I am not as practiced, I can’t be as gentle. It’ll smart if I do it—”

“No, it’s alright,” Agnes said, quickly. “You’re not that bad—you don’t give yourself enough credit. Either way I’d prefer you do it.”

‘Not that bad’ was hardly a full throated endorsement. Emmrich might have suspected Agnes was trying to spare his feelings, if the more likely explanation was not so obvious: if they went to the infirmary, they were likely to see Morten there. 

“Very well,” he gave in, and lifted both his palms to her waist, covering the two fractured lower ribs with the flat of his palm. As he called upon the healing magic from the Fade to reset the bones, he spoke to distract her: “He was a student of mine, you know, before you came here. Morten.”

The grimace on Agnes’ face gave way to one of keen, piqued interest. 

“I meant what I said when Johanna brought you here,” Emmrich continued, sparing the occasional glance at Agnes’ face—she was enthralled—while he focused on mending the fractures in her bones. “I had no intention of taking on any kind of assistant or apprentice at the time. But Morten had… well. After he had finished my course the previous semester, he had inquired.”

Not that Morten had been remotely qualified for any such position—and not that he would have been anywhere near the top of Emmrich’s list, if he had been looking. Emmrich had many favorite students. Morten was not among them.

But that was not the point. There was no call for needless cruelty—Emmrich was a grown man, and he would not stoop to Morten’s level. So he put it as gently and politely as he could:

“I’m not sure what he said to you, Agnes,” although, from her omissions, he had some idea, “but I wouldn’t pay any attention to him. My strong suspicion is that Morten is acting out because he is envious of you.”

It took a moment for Agnes to fully process this news. But as it dawned on her, her clear, grey eyes widened—another bloom of blood dewed upon her bottom lip as she grinned again—and then, gave the most uninhibited, uproarious, incredulous laugh. Her lip bled and she clutched her sides, her whole body shaking with her laughter.

The sound was so beautiful, Emmrich couldn’t help but smile, too. “Would you care to tell me why you find that thought so amusing?”

“No,” Agnes replied, immediately, with another clear, bell-like laugh. She raised his handkerchief to wipe at her eyes—she’d laughed so hard that she had cried a little bit. “But that helped, tremendously—thank you.”

“Well, it’s good to see you mirthful and smiling, all the same,” Emmrich said, reassured by her good cheer. “If Morten makes another attempt to antagonize you, don’t fight him, alright? Regardless of what he says. He isn’t worth the energy. Just… come find me.” 

Agnes smiled at him: bloody, pink-teethed, delighted. It was very hard to resist the urge to take the handkerchief from her hands and wipe her lips clear. “Did you see Morten, in the infirmary?” she asked, and her eyes shone. “Do you really think he’ll try to antagonize me again?”

“Not any time soon, probably,” Emmrich admitted.  Agnes had broken his bones so thoroughly—so violently—that Morten would always carry the scar, no matter how the healers worked to mend him. He’d still feel the aches in his arms when the weather changed for the rest of his life. 

Finally, Emmrich could no longer help himself. Gently—watching her eyes for permission—with tender affection, he reached out his thumb—gently, gently—to press it to the seam in her lip. He felt the skin mend beneath the pad of his finger. “But if he does…”

“I’ll ignore him,” Agnes finished his thought, smiling again with her blood-encrusted smile. She was humoring him more than obeying him; it was clear from the way she spoke, almost teasingly, that she would have been more than content to keep resolving her problems with Morten through violence… but that she’d stop, because he asked. “Or I’ll come to you.”

Privately, quietly, and not for the first time, Emmrich admitted to himself: he was beginning to adore her. 

Then she diverted her eyes to his handkerchief; when he had moved to heal her lip she had lowered it, and now, she was twisting it in her hands. “Let me take it?” she asked, hopefully; then explained, in a hurry, “To wash it for you. It’s not stained too badly—I think I can still salvage it.”

If Emmrich refused her—if he tried to tell Agnes it was unnecessary—she would only argue with him.

“Alright,” he conceded, and watched the palpable relief that overtook her at his agreement. “If you insist.”

volkarin's dog

EmmRook, pre-Veilguard, 1.5k wc cw: graphic descriptions of a compound fracture (there be bones here and not the horny kind)

SUMMARY: When fellow Mourn Watcher insults Professor Volkarin behind his back, a young Rook (Volkarin's assistant) chooses violence.

EXCERPT: In the span of a heartbeat she had catalogued the whole of him, all those years of remedial anatomy lessons at last bearing fruit. She felt the whole meaty, human mess of him, stretching out from under her hands; felt the framework of his bones, from the metacarpals under her her fingertips, along the clutter of carpal bones at Morten’s wrists, up the long, sinuous arcs of the radii and ulnae of his lower arms.

Finding them, it was so easy, then—surrendering more than anything—giving into temptation, into the call of her magic.

When Agnes was twenty four years old, she had broken both of Morten Isaakson’s arms.

By then, she had been long accustomed to the petty abuses he enacted upon her for the amusement of his Watcher friends; these insults had begun soon after she had arrived at the Necropolis for her training. After five years of it, Agnes was more bored of the routine than anything else. She had suffered her step-sisters insults for years back on her father’s estate, and when compared to those little girls, Morten was far outmatched in both creativity and cruelty—and to her step-sisters’ credit, they at least were willing to back up their insults with their hands, if it came to it. Once, Magdalena had viciously torn out a chunk of Agnes’ hair; Tanabeth had blacked her eye with a lucky swing. Morten, on the other hand, was all talk.

He had approached her with his friends in the mess hall where she had been eating alone, and had begun with his usual repertoire: that Agnes was an inadequate necromancer; that she hailed from provincial backwaters that barely entitled her to Nevarra’s rich cultural heritage; that she was no more than a thug. That she did not belong in the Necropolis; that she did not deserve to be there. Sometimes he would go so far as to call her ‘Professor Volkarin’s dog,’ and try to provoke her into barking for him and his friends, which was the closest Morten ever came to getting a rise out of her.

Agnes had only kept her eyes fixed on the book on the table in front of her, picking at the remains of her lunch on her plate. Inevitably, Morten would grow tired and move on, as he always did; all the quicker if she did not give him the satisfaction of a reaction. She must endure for a few minutes, but then she would be left to finish her lunch in peace.

Except—on this particular afternoon—Morten had not stopped at merely insulting Agnes.

“We have been wondering, my friends and I—and not for the first time—how and why it is that you, of all people, who can barely manage to raise a perambulating thrall on your own, were chosen as Professor Volkarin’s assistant.”

Agnes rolled her gaze from side to side across the block of text on the page in an imitation of reading; though she was not looking at Morten, she was focused on him utterly. He never backed up his insults with his fists, but little Tanabeth had, and that vigilance, once she had learnt it, was hard to relinquish.

And something about Morten today was different. Eager, gleeful, too keen to get under her skin. Agnes’ plate and cutlery jumped when he slapped his hands down upon the dining table, all the better to lean over it, leering at her.

“Do you know,” Morten said to her, jovially, “I think we’ve finally figured it out?”

Beneath the table, Agnes’ feet were flat on the floor. Her body was coiled, ready for fight or flight. She considered the book spread out before her on the table: if it was heavy enough to break Morten’s nose; if she would be fast enough to strike him across the face with it before he flinched.

“Maybe… Volkarin wasn’t looking for an assistant at all,” Morten crooned, with malicious delight. Faux-whispered, loud enough for all of his friends behind him, as well as the Watchers sitting further down the table to hear:

“Maybe what your necrodaddy really wanted was the company of someone warmer and wetter than the dusty old corpses he normally spends his long nights with.”

In five long years, Morten had almost never succeeded in antagonizing her—but at that, at last, Agnes looked up from her book, and found Morten smiling down at her, his blue eyes glittering with laughter.

She was not hurt. She did not think Morten could really say anything that would hurt her.

She was shocked.

For all the time that Morten had been bullying her, he had never once extended those insults to include Professor Volkarin.

Morten gorged himself on that glance—incontrovertible proof he had succeeded at last in pushing her buttons—and he lowered his head almost tenderly close to Agnes’ to add:

“That mouth of yours is usually ruined by the look on your face, but I bet your Professor’s found an adequate way to keep it occupied.”

And her shock transfigured into rage.

A quiet rage. A titanic pressure. The kind of force that pressed coal into diamonds; the python strength that squeezed life from lungs: as tight, as wound.

Morten could say what he liked about Agnes. That she didn’t belong in the Necropolis; that she was a terrible necromancer; she had been able to ignore these remarks because, in some respect, she agreed with them. As she had never aspired to be a necromancer of any skill or renown, these comments also hadn’t had any power to hurt her.

But what Morten implied now was not only vile, it was so far from the truth that Agnes would have almost found it laughable, were she not so furious. The idea that Professor Volkarin—by far and away one of the kindest, most decorous, respectful people she had ever known—would take advantage—would even think to use his position in such a way—!

(He wouldn’t. Even if Agnes herself would have happily let him make use of her in any way he pleased, she knew—he wouldn’t.)

Slowly, Agnes closed the cover of her book with a dull thud. Her lips twitched into a frown.

“No, Morten,” she replied, in her thick, borderlands accent that had marked her as an easy target for his humiliations since her arrival. “An imaginative conjecture, but you’ve had it right all along: he picked me because his work is perilous and important, and he needed someone to protect him. A dog.”

(It was only months prior that she’d failed in that duty: that she had soaked her clothes with Professor Volkarin’s blood, clutching him against her body in the lift, praying to the Maker or the Old Gods or anyone who would listen that he would keep breathing, keep living—how they had wrenched him from her on the upper levels and hastened him to the infirmary—how she had sat beside his bed and sworn him an oath of fealty—that she would always protect him.)

He had not asked, and she had not promised, to protect his honor—but in this instance, she was happy to do so, gratis.

Agnes slid her hands across the table, and covered Morten’s with her own, forcing herself not to recoil in disgust as the bare tips of her fingers skimmed across the bare skin on the back of Morten’s hands.

The corners of Agnes’ mouth lifted in a barely perceptible smile. She held Morten’s gaze, and for the first and only time, gave him the satisfaction:

“Bark, bark,” Agnes said—flat, monotone.

And gave no further warning before her mana ripped through him like a current.

In the span of a heartbeat she had catalogued the whole of him, all those years of remedial anatomy lessons at last bearing fruit. She felt the whole meaty, human mess of him, stretching out from under her hands; felt the framework of his bones, from the metacarpals under her her fingertips, along the clutter of carpal bones at Morten’s wrists, up the long, sinuous arcs of the radii and ulnae of his lower arms.

Finding them, it was so easy, then—surrendering more than anything—giving into temptation, into the call of her magic.

Hot blood sprayed Agnes’ face as her magic snapped all four bones at once—clean and violent fractures, but broken horrifically through the muscle and skin, leaving four fresh, gaping wounds in Morten’s forearms—the stalagmites of his broken bones staring out of them, yellowed bone and unctuous marrow.

An all too brief moment of satisfaction: the blood dripping down her cheeks; the sudden silence in the mess hall; the shock then horror then rage feeding all at once to agony on Morten Isaakson’s face—before he released a blood curdling scream, outrage and agony all at once.

Everything after was a blur. Rough hands seized her from behind, dragged her off the bench, shoved her to the floor. Shouting. The sounds of people running. And the kicks—the boots of Morten’s friends coming down again and again on her legs, her stomach, her back. But it did not matter—and as Agnes lifted her arms to shelter her head against their blows… she smiled. Because in that brief, blissful moment before Morten had begun screaming, she had seen more than pain and shock and revulsion and horror in his eyes—he had stared at Agnes, his shattered arms between them, and in his eyes, Agnes had seen regret.

He would not stop his harassment of her. In fact, for a while, she suspected it might get worse. Once he’d recovered from his injuries, Morten would be more mean-spirited than ever. But she knew: though he might continue to say what he liked about her, she did not think he would dare to speak that way about Professor Volkarin again.

------- Excerpted from Chp. 8 of my longfic, for love is strong as death.

[flowersforthemachines]

Some facts about Bellara (and also the Veil Jumpers, and other random Elven things) gathered from the banters

I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).

Note: This list may not be exhaustive. I might have missed some something or didn't write it down because I considered it common knowledge. If you have anything to add, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from, though)

Note 2: Posts from this series (mostly) don't include information from banters specific to quests or between companions and faction members. I plan to do another playthrough to capture more of those and will add any relevant info to the character posts.

Other characters' posts: Davrin, Harding, Lucanis, Emmrich, Neve, Taash. I'm also planning a post about just the Lighthouse some time later

About Bellara

Family and past:

Bellara’s mother is a woodworker who sells furniture in Orlais, and her father is an herbalist. He taught her about deadly plants (for her own safety)

Bellara didn’t tell her parents about Cyrian’s (second) death

Bellara once broke both of her arms while racing an Aravel 

Bellara learnt magic from her Keeper and later the Veil Jumpers, but she also studied a lot on her own by reading books and just trying things out

When she was little, Bellara wondered what it’s like to settle down instead of moving all the time (just like Davrin did) 

General:

Bellara can better focus on writing when she has background noise (like Rook talking)

Bellara likes tea (but can also drink coffee after she pulls an all-nighter, which seems to happen pretty often)

Bellara liked Lucanis’s grilled fish

Bellara didn’t know any Qunari recipes before joining the Veilguard

Bellara wouldn’t want to be an assassin, but she would be interested in taking lessons from Crows about assassination techniques

Bellara thinks that most people in Tevinter are condescending, even the nice ones 

Magic and life with the Veil Jumpers: 

Bellara once found an artifact that was basically an ancient elven mechanical toothbrush 

Bellara is a Veil Jumper because Arlathan is her home, and she can’t stand by and do nothing. Also, because of the artefacts

Part of the reason why Irelin and Bellara broke up is that Bellara became too consumed by studying/fixing artefacts 

Bellara and Davrin agree that the Veil Jumpers’ odds are even worse than the Wardens’

Bellara thinks that the ancient Elven magic feels cold

Bellara didn’t find anything on the Devouring Storm in the libraries or Circles. Vorgoth and Myrna never heard of it either 

Life at the Lighthouse: 

Bellara owns a bronze candleholder shaped like a fennec

Bellara thinks that the Fade in the Lighthouse is almost too calm compared to Arlathan

Bellara likes her space in the Lighthouse and feels like “it's been waiting for her”

The Archive sometimes stares at people who come by

Bellara eventually suggests that she and Lucanis completely take over the cooking. Everybody except for Harding dreaded any meal not cooked by them anyway and gleefully agreed

Antoine let Bellara borrow his compound for flaming arrows to see how it reacts in the Fade (she doesn’t speak about the results, but she used at least one compound for testing without incidents and later wants to borrow more) 

Relationships with companions: 

Bellara offers Davrin to listen about his findings regarding the Gloom Howler as he searches for the missing griffons, saying she's a good listener

Bellara asks Neve if she can become a Shadow Dragon and is very excited when she hears “Yes”

However, when Emmrich offers her to join the Mourn Watch, she turns him down saying that the Veil Jumpers need her. 

A writing inconsistency. Probably. 

Neve once saw Bellara poking around Assan, trying to figure out if he was real or some clever mechanical contraption 

Bellara wants to make pillows out of Assan’s molted feathers (but Davrin refuses because he finds it weird)

Bellara made dog biscuits for Assan (that Davrin accidentally ate the first time). The next time she brought a batch, she left them in a box labelled “Assan biscuits inside, do not eat.” Assan liked them!

Bellara once covered Assan in olive oil thinking it could improve his wind resistance and let him fly faster. Didn’t work. 

Bellara offers Emmrich to co-author a paper about ancient elves after they find out elves came from spirits

Bellara asks Emmrich about vampires multiple times. According to him, when a Hunger Demon possesses a corpse, the resulting abomination can seek out blood, sort of resembling a vampire. They can't turn into bats though

According to Neve, some magisters in Minrathous have tried bonding with Hunger Demons which resulted in them having immense power but also a craving for blood 

Bellara and Harding swap books for reading

Bellara gets into lifting using Harding's rocks

Bellara doesn’t think she needs to threaten Lucanis when she finds out he and Neve are dating because Neve could wipe the floor with him herself if she wanted (Lucanis agrees) 

Bellara is fine with Lucanis taking on Ghilan’nain’s contract (“Whatever we were worshipping, it wasn’t her") and cheered him on at Weisshaupt

Bellara asks Neve to beta-read her story

(If Neve and Rook are in romance) Bellara thinks that solving cases together is romantic

(If Neve leaves after Rook chooses to save Treviso) Bellara kept notes of everything that happened while Neve was away to help her adjust after she’s back

About the Veil Jumpers:

Bellara mentioned that a certain elf camped in some ruins, and one day woke up stuck in the clouds. The Veil Jumpers haven’t figured out a way to get them down, so they just send them food and water

Veil Jumpers use some of the artefacts they have recovered as weapons. However, they don’t use them often, since most of them need to be charged after one use, and nobody really knows how to do that 

Veil Jumpers eat whatever Arlathan Forest provides

Though Bellara also mentions she doesn’t forage in the forest anymore. Strife does, however, he always finds something edible

It’s hard to say how many Veil Jumpers are out there because people die/go missing/leave too often to keep a proper count

The Veil Jumpers once found an artefact that caused whoever activated it to get sucked into the Fade. One guy got trapped inside because he used it even if the others told him not to. Bellara is weirdly nonchalant about that whole thing

The Veil Jumpers once found something like an entrance to the Deep Roads on the Southern Edge of Arlathan Forest. The group that found it sealed themselves inside and destroyed the entrance, leaving a note telling the others not to enter. Davrin hypothesises it could be one of the pools similar to the one we saw in the Horrors of Hormak

Ritsivas from the Veil Jupmers is non-binary (mentioned by Harding in a conversation with Taash)  

Misc:

The power crystals are called “June'suledin'bellanaris'ena'ghilan'lasa'shiral”. You may infer the reasons everybody just calls them 'power crystals'

Not all traps in Elven ruins were originally meant to be traps, but their magic is old, so it doesn’t recognise modern people and can backfire. And sometimes magic just degrades over time and accidentally rips the Veil, summoning demons

Andruil’s Gauntlet is an ancient site meant to test hunters who want to wield the mightiest weapons. It’s filled with traps, and no one has made through it in ages. It was made by Andruil’s priests to test the warriors of Elvhenan 

Clans Nuvenis and Sabrae live in Ferelden. Harding’s village traded with the Sabrae in the past

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

Here's mine!

Rook: Juniper Aldwir, a dalish elf mage, I mostly went for the direct/aggressive dialogue options with a few of the more positive/nicer or joke-y options in companion convos. I went with the spellblade specialization and ended up loving it after a rough mage start. I also played arcane warrior/knight enchanter my first DAO and DAI runs though so. lmao. i have a type.

Faction: Veil jumpers! How could I not go with the scientific study of weird magic group... I've decided she's more on the geography and cartography side of the profession rather than mechanics/tinkering like Bellara, which is why she's not the one fixing the broken objects you encounter herself. I imagine she's the one drawing maps of all the places you go, making notes of interesting landmarks/items, etc. the crossroads drives her insane (bc it drives ME insane) because of the weird half reality half fade logic to the locations, travel, etc.

Companions/NPCs: My go to companion squad was Lucanis and Davrin or Taash for the best combos/fighting, and Emmrich because I enjoyed his comments/character a lot too. NPC wise, of course finally seeing FELASSAN!!! was great and he got so much more content and dialogue than I expected. was cheering every time i found another codex entry from him, and the Betrayal fight ruled. otherwise, like most everyone else i LOOOOVEEEE Teai & Viagos Divorced Energy... i'm obsessed. And then Antoine & Evka for actually wholesome, and Vorgoth bc idk wtf is up there but its sexy. but also THE CARETAKER what IS it... i have so many questions... that i will be filling in with weird headcanons probably. I also liked listening in on the two fledgling crows on the balcony who have a ton of unique banters, and a couple other npc banter points idk how to describe lmao. Some of the spirit ones in the crossroads I wish we got more of.

Romance: Lucanis my BELOVED obviously i am doing... an insane amount of lucanisposting lately... yeah I've got the full brainworms. even though the game itself was lacking in content my neurons are instead working overtime to try to fill in everything the game left out

Major decisions: I saved Treviso because Minrathous JUST had its turn being saved, shouldn't they like??? be mobilizing the ARMY they actually have over there by now??? they should have been better prepared idk what else to say. insane it got hit a 3rd time at the end anyway so i stand by my choice in picking Antiva. As for the companion endings, I felt most didn't really make a difference to me, with the exception of Emmrich. I kept manfred on this run becuase I was NOT ready to say goodbye to my gentle skeleton son 😭 next game i will romance Emmrich and make him a lich tho. As for the ending... I sent Harding to lead the second squad and Neve was the one who got mirror-kidnapped. Whcih did leave for an absolutely devastating post-Nightmare-In-Dreamland fade sequence where Rook suddenly had NONE of the companions she started the game with. Getting hit with losing Harding, losing Neve, and then the realization that Varric had been dead the whole time definitely makes for some angsty roleplay opportunity, though I do wanna replay it with Bellara in the final position just so I can watch her stand up to the gods, because i think that'd be pretty great. Ending-wise: I'm a Solavellan fool who's been pining for a real life decade now almost so I of course went for that lmao. I will play through all the other options just for the drama of it all, and probably come up with some adjusted exact sequence for how things go as a headcanon, but yeah.

again pls feel free to reblog & add yours, i've really liked reading about the couple who've answered so far :))))

ok i know ive been doing a lot of bitching about the game etc but putting that aside for a moment. Now that more people have finished Veilguard, I'm curious about people's first playthroughs!

What kind of Rook did you make (lineage, class, dialogue personality options, etc)?

What faction did you play as?

Fave companions and npc's?

Who did you romance?

The major choices--what'd you do? (which city, saved, notable companion routes you strongly prefer, what went down in act 3 and endgame...)

Any particular missions/lore you were excited about?

you don't have to be a mutual to reply to/reblog this! im just curious what we all veered to for the first run. i'm doing a second one now making different choices but it's interesting to compare people's first instincts.