#thread: here be dragons

[pathfaring]

Starter for Efren @feralego

They say there's a dragon in the mountain.

They had dragons in Earthsea, far out in the west, noble and ancient and dangerous. but Ruskin had never met a dragon there and he doesn't know what dragons of this world are. The locals seem scared enough to ask a stranger for help, but neither are their crops burning and their town ravaged.

But in spite of himself, in spite of what he tells the villagers, he is curious. He's allowed to be curious, he tells himself, even if still the feeling sometimes makes him nauseous with memories.

The path up the mountain is rocky, steep. Unforgiving, perhaps, if he couldn't soothe the ache in his feet and lighten his pack with a touch of his hand. Anyhow, he's used to walking, and it's a bright, crisp day, rays of sunlight dropping through cloud and leaving a shimmer in the air.

Still, he should probably, he thinks, as he stands on a grassy ridge, unable to see an obvious path, have checked exactly WHERE they thought the dragon was. He's passed a small tarn, the odd nook that might be a prime spot, but found nothing alive and larger than a rabbit.

It's dark before he gives up the search for the night. he slings a hammock between a tree and a rocky outcrop, fastening it with deft fingers. He has nothing to cook so he doesn't bother to light a fire--- he can keep himself warm well enough. But he does light a torch, a soft orange flame that will keep burning the small kindling of dried leaves all night.

Footsteps in the twilight. Ruskin looks over his shoulder, and thinks he can see a half silhouetted figure hidden in the foliage. "Is someone there?" he calls, soft, uncertain he's not just seeing a trick of the light.

It doesn't look like a dragon.

[felassan]

Compilation of snippets from the DA:TV acting talent panel at SDCC (Dragon Age: Meet the Heroic Companions of Thedas) today (July 26th). DA:TV spoilers under cut.

Huge props and tysm to the users who live-tweeted and clipped this panel, you are heroes 🙏💜!!

The panel was moderated. In attendance were John Epler, creative performance director Ashley Barlow, and the actors of Lucanis, Neve, Emmrich, and Harding - Zach Mendez, Jessica Clark, Nick Boraine, and Ali Hillis respectively.

The panel ended with a Q&A session.

(BioWare have stated that a recording of the panel will be made available at a later date.)

Edit/update: I've now been through this post and tidied it up :)

---

Here are some pictures from the panel [source]

Here are some more pictures from the panel [source]

In this Twitter thread there are also some video clips of parts of the panel [source]

BioWare tried to avoid spoilers in the panel [source]

Key points/summary of DA:TV: hunting Solas, found family companions, stop the elven gods [source]

When auditioning the companions, BW were specifically looking for character chemistry [source]

BW used motion capture for the game [source]. Mo-cap was mentioned a lot in the panel [source]

Lucanis sees assassination as a job. His mind is as dangerous as his knives and he is also "kinda hilarious" [source]

There was mention of other Crows [source]

Zach Mendez read Tevinter Nights like three times [source]

A clip of the actors doing mo-cap was shown [source]. Photos of Zach mo-capping for other characters was shown [source]

BioWare said that Zach brought a certain darkness to Lucanis [source]

Zach is excited for the romance and is looking forward to the stats [source]

Zach mentioned that he used his own relationship with his brother in his portrayal of Lucanis [source] (surely this means ILLARIO.. ?👀)

Zach played a lot of darkspawn originally while auditioning [source]

Ali Hillis really welcomed Zach into the DA family [source]

Neve is from Minrathous. She has fun banter and is a cynical detective with a heart of gold. They want to show a rebellious side of Tevinter [source]

Jessica Clark loves Neve's loyalty, dedication, and different vision of Tevinter

Neve is fighting for the people [source]. Jessica: "She is really really fighting for those people, and she loves those people. So, yes, she's cynical, and yes she's kind of tough and brusque and all these other things, but when they say there's a heart of gold, there really, like, to have that kind of a passion and dedicate your life to something like that, I think that's definitely my favorite part about her" [source]

Jessica loves how much Neve loves Docktown and its people [source]

Neve sees a different vision for Tevinter than what has previously been depicted in the series [source]

The actors were separate from one another while recording lines but still bonded really well and organically [source]

There are several Veilguard gc [source] (groupchats?)

Ali is an angel and very supportive of the new cast [source]

Emmrich is a "stone cold silver fox" (this is a quote from the panel moderator) [source]

BioWare knew the reaction they would get about Emmrich from the fandom [source]

Nick Boraine feels like he's been preparing for Emmrich all his life. He's obsessed with death (as a comfort and not scary) and enabling people to transition into death. He is attracted to this aspect of the character [source]

"You're gonna need a dictionary for Emmrich" for all the magic spells [source]

"Interesting how this character caught fire compared to the other sexy characters" [source] (I think this was said wrt Emmrich?)

BW had a great time recording with Nick, he is a very consistent actor [source]

Nick and Matt Mercer have never met [source]

Manfred plays off of Emmrich. "I set the tone" [source]

What has Harding been doing in-between DA:I and DA:TV? She's been working closely with Varric and the Inquisition remnants. She and Neve already met in the comics [source]

Ali vividly remembers the beginning of voicing Harding, she says it's brilliant writing. She really thought of Harding's personality and traits. She's so happy to be back [source]

wrt the Covid-19 pandemic and the year 2020, BW had to pivot with working remotely and were able to push through their projects. [source]

"[Harding] chasing Solas for a decade..." "that was a great relationship that [you] developed... and now I'll stop talking now". Ali was excited [source]

John Epler talked about how companions may but heads, and won't be predictable [source]

There are thousands and thousands of lines and so many characters to meet [source]

Zach "unfortunately has been around the DA Reddit before recording as Lucanis" [source]. He feels inspired by all the fans and cannot wait for us to play it [source]

[new textblock due to character limit!]

John Epler on Emmrich: "I mean honestly, I will say, like, we expected a great reaction to Emmrich. Went beyond what we expected for sure. But it’s been fascinating to see, because again, Emmrich is this character, he’s more of the professorial, more, he brings a wisdom and kind of a calmness to the group, so even when things are at their worst, there’s that one person in the group who is kinda like, ‘okay, y’know, we've got, let's figure it out, let’s take a deep breath’. And just his journey through his character arc, and his interactions with the others, it’s been fantastic to see. Even just finding opportunities for him to bounce off the other characters, you know, the way he talks to Bellara, the way he talks to Neve, it’s all so different, but it’s also just, again, based around this core of this warm, kind-hearted, professorial necromancer. Which, again, is not something you see a lot of in media. I mean, usually, necromancers are depicted in a very specific way. But it’s been, it's awesome to see how Emmrich has grown and just, really one of the most, one of my favorite experiences has been just working with Emmrich’s writer, working with Emmrich as a character." [source]

All the actors are excited about the dialogue and narrative, and for us to explore DA:TV [source]

Ali says that we will really find ourselves in this game [source]

During the recording process, the actors all hear the previous person's recording and react or respond to it [source]

Due to Covid-related lockdown, a lot of recording was done over Zoom, and the writers besides Ashley Barlow (creative performance director) would jump in on the call to talk about the previous person’s lines [source]

A question was asked about the background factions. "Characters not causes". [source]

You can work with the Grey Wardens in the game (for example) [source]

The actors all met this weekend. They are an "un-chosen" family [source]

Zach stood in for multiple characters for mo-cap, for example he was Assan [source]

Lucanis has a heart but is stubborn and stuck in his ways. Zach is excited for fans to help his character open up as the story progresses [source]

Jessica is incredibly honored to join the DA universe. She is new to voice acting for video games. “This is play pretend. Playing Neve allowed her to step into her power.” [source]

A question was asked on what their first exposure to fantasy was, and do they implement this into the acting? John talked about Lord of the Rings and how every media you experience will seep out into your work [source]

Ashley didn't want the dialogue to sound modern [source]

Zach loves Theseus and talked about the symbolism in DA [source]

Jessica loves Greek mythology and lore [source]

Nick talked about The Hobbit and how he would dress up in big boots and a cape when his mother would read to him [source]

Ali recently went to Greece and felt like she saw DA everywhere [source]

A question was asked - "From your companion's perspective, which previous companion would you romance?" Zach kind of has a thing for The Iron Bull, saying "oh that awakened something inside of me". He also likes Dorian. Jessica was too overwhelmed to answer. Nick was also overwhelmed by the question, but thinks Solas is sexy [source] [source]

Ali fangirled over Lucanis and Emmrich [source], prefers Emmrich [source]

A question was asked - "Is DA:TV and DA:I streamlined together?" [paraphrased]. Answer: DA games are not as streamlined as Mass Effect and act almost as standalones [source]

The cast were asked about which aspect of their character is their favorite. Ali loves the little quirks about Harding. "Lucanis is a good cook!?" ** Neve is very dry and pretty closed off about it. For Emmrich, it's the "exploration of the idea of death and necromancy" [source] (** FINALLY CITATION for this? :D)

A question was asked: "How do you decide to introduce the lore in each game?" BioWare answered that it depends as they build each game. They always know the base lore, and see opportunities through game mechanics and characters. They try not to infodump [source]

A question was asked: "Any favorite party banter?" Ashley Barlow said to listen for "hand to bone combat" [source]

The game takes place approximately 10 years after the end of DA:I. You start the game hunting for Solas. The game is built on some core principles: be who you want to be in a world worth saving and with characters that matter. The companions are always at the heart of DA and they are at the heart of this game too. [source]

The moderator asked John Epler about what is bringing this party of people ("this rogues' gallery") together. John: "I mean, it's the end of the world, and each character that you bring into your party understands that the world is ending, that they need to stop that, and you're really building, what I would say is, more of a found family. These are characters who may not start off liking each other, may not even start off liking you, but over time they grow to understand the importance of what they're doing and just, how critical it is to stop the elven gods" [source]

"He is kind and has some spectacular lines. He is a natural nerdy scientist. He loves learning." [source] (Emmrich? ^^)

Ali didn't realize that Harding was such a beloved character. She thanked fans for bringing this character back [source]

Ali is super excited that the game is releasing. She said that there has been an evolution to Harding's character and that she's been chasing Solas for like a decade at this point [source]

Jessica loves the writing in the game [source]

Nick loves its narrative [source]

Ali said that this game is going to take you into a world that will blow your minds [source]

On Manfred: Nick was asked what it was like having another character to bounce off of. He said "Oh man! I mean, that is such a hard question, because Matt and I have never met, and we worked completely separately, and, I, I mean I know that the rapport is really great, but it's in the ether, I mean it is just, the magic that these guys create, telling us how to respond, how to do that, but it's, I can't wait to meet Matt" [source]

BW still said that the game's release window is Fall 2024 [source]. Nothing more specific was given [source]

There are also more snippets here in this Tumblr post, go check it out!

[source, two]

[gloriousmonsters]

love when you can ask the Narrator why the Princess is a Princess and he's like 'well i uhhhh YOU did that. maybe it's because uh... something something about her being above you... but still approachable... look i don't want to analyze or anthropomorphize your--' my guy. i am a primal being of Order and Eternity and Shaping. You're the one who convinced me I was some dude and were quite willing to take credit for shaping my view on the world through narration five seconds ago. Are you gonna look me in the eye and tell me the desire to interpret something worthy of adoration and more powerful than me as a dommy princess is written in the very nature of the universe or are you going to show me your browser history like a man

[inkskinned]

it is all chaos and entropy. the thing is that the chaos and entropy make it beautiful and lovely.

yes, it's true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is terrifying. i have lived through some of the unfairness - i got born like this, with my body caving into itself, with this ironic love of dance when i sometimes can't stand up for longer than 15 minutes. i am a poet with hands that are slowly shutting down - i can't hold a pen some days. recently i found a dead bird on our front porch. she had no visible injuries. she had just died, the way things die sometimes.

it is also true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is wonderful. the sheer happenstance that makes rain turn into a rainbow. the impossible coincidence of finding your best friend. i have made so many mistakes and i have let myself down and i have harmed other people by accident. nature moves anyway. on the worst day of my life she delivers me an orange juice sunset, as if she is saying try again tomorrow.

how vast and unknowing the universe! how small we are! isn't that lovely. the universe has given us flowers and harp strings and the shape of clouds. how massive our lives are in comparison to a grasshopper. the world so bright, still undiscovered. even after 30 years of being on this earth, i learned about a new type of animal today: the dhole.

chance echoing in my life like a harmony between two people talking. do you think you and i, living in different worlds but connected through the internet - do you think we've ever seen the same butterfly? they migrate thousands of miles. it's possible, right?

how beautiful the ways we fill the vastness of space. i love that when large amounts of people are applauding in a room, they all start clapping at the same time. i love that the ocean reminds us of our mother's heartbeat. i love that out of all the colors, chlorophyll chose green. i love the coincidences. i love the places where science says i don't know, but it just happens.

"the universe doesn't care about you!" oh, i know. that's okay. i care about the universe. i will put my big stupid heart out into it and watch the universe feast on it. it is not painful. it is strange - the more love you pour into the unfeeling world, the more it feels the world loves you in return. i know it's confirmation bias. i think i'm okay if my proof of kindness is just my own body and my own spirit.

i buried the bird from our porch deep in the woods. that same day, an old friend reaches out to me and says i miss you. wherever you go, no matter how bad it gets - you try to do good.

[chanafehs]

10 hour mark for DATV:

Neve is probably my favorite companion so far (who could’ve seen that coming)

The dialogue is a little…odd. Especially between companions. It just kinda feels like everyone gets along and disagreements never impact the story in an substantial way

Antiva is beautiful but WOW it was buggy for me

Morrigan is wayyy too nice. And “my old friend solas”? There has to be some lore reason for this we find out. Where is my mean wife

The soundtrack sometimes feels incredibly out of place but other times it’s great - I liked it best in Arlathan!

There’s only one part I’ve been through so far I would count as “dark and gritty” and it was over way too quickly.

[the-algebra-thing]

runaans character is sooo sososo fascinating to me. and I don't even see much more of myself in him than I do any other character that's not the draw. there's just something so compelling to me about how it must all fit together for him: his massive respect for all life/talented assassin career thing from bloodmoon huntress, and his relationship to rayla, and her parents, and his prejudice against all humans, etc. and I feel that this is all going to come together to form such an interesting mindset to study/internal conflict in general in season 7. the idea that he's been gone—half-living trapped in an altered state of consciousness utterly corrupted by an insane depth of love twisted into gut-wrenching guilt, at that—for the two years in which elves and humans have begun to try to coexist for the first time in centuries, missed all that time and gradual change completely & dumped into a completely new political landscape, contrasted with his position as king killer, contrasted yet again with his position as father to one of the most relevant and devoted catalysts to this world-bending change is going to blow up in his face sooo bad as soon as he puts on his slutty little shirt and starts listening to the story. and I think the entire thing is just the most uniquely enthralling quagmire I've ever encountered

[little-eye-guy]

fathoms, snappers, and ridgebacks all finished! these are available at my adopt shop, along with every other modern breed

thanks to @woodoats @maraariana01 @girlfriend-boyfriend and @koobi-fr for lending me your dragons!

[lightsummit]

A quick little something for my darling Retro!

[askkaimei]

｛ 39Clture 2024 EXTRA WORLD＆FES ｝| @nishikikope

[inamindfarfaraway]

Hey Descendants fans, did you know that the franchise has a stage musical adaption? I wasn't until today! But this production is actually really cool, creatively adapting plot points and remixing songs from all over the franchise. There's so much earnest passion bringing it to life. It has the charm of the first movie that endeared us to this stupid franchise despite itself. And the immense added charm of being not a Disney Studios production designed to make money by copying Ever After High with worse writing, but instead an independent project by people just like us who also love this stupid franchise and put in the work and care to make their rewrite fanfic a LIVE MUSICAL. I'd say that it has better writing and costume design than the movies do at times. (Looking at you, Descendants 3).

[athena-xox]

You know what? Fuck it.

If I think that epic winter should take place soon after dragon games and not have the 20 whatever episodes that go in between them im going to do it.

This is my timeline, and while yes is still canonically I’m going to take a few creative liberties in between the lines. It’s not like the series is canon anyways, because the series narrators are either 1. liars or 2. incompetent (I’ll link the post explaining later) and they tell Brooke “take us to the next scene” meaning they control when scenes happen so the series could canonically be misleading

[perseus-veil]

finally got to make my lil girly. you will look at her

[heartsdefine]

you: éowyn and boromir never even meet.

me: according to me and @sonxofxgondor on my old éowyn blog @dernhelmalso boromir is FINE and they absolutely DO meet when the dwindling fellowship reaches edoras and they totally have the chance to bond while in the houses of healing later!!!

[driofaire]

When one thought of necromancers, they hardly put a thought to them being quite as friendly as Gale was. It seemed as though the mages she had been destined to meet were either perfectly pleasant gentlemen, or bright and cunning others; nothing unfriendly or worth fearing. Rook was mystified by the magic in them yet in the same breath wary of it, though it was as much a tool for them as her daggers and bow were for her. Without her weapons, she would be about as much use as tits on a fish ... but him? God, he would be entirely unstoppable. Gale's quarters in the lighthouse were precisely as she expected; a mess of books, some opened, others for perusal as the fancy took him. She liked books well enough. Not quite the entire history of everything that had ever happened ... ever! But the ones of poetry, of sweet loves and unconquerable affections! Delightful.

Her fingers brushed against a particular one: an anthology of poems of the uncharted seas. Author unknown. Curiosity drew her to it, and for a moment she considered opening up the first few pages and taking it in. "Oh, this is right up my street," Rook said, finally. "Don't suppose you'd recommend this, would you? Already went through the books I bought in that pokey little place in Minrathous."

@recitedemise / closed starter.

[adeadlysong]

@starwrittenfates (for Ellana Lavellan from Tahirah :D)

Not long ago, Tahirah had promised to bake pie with the Inquisitor.

Today, she made sure to go through with this process, from making the dough for the crust to creating the filling and now...

Tahirah beamed as she took out the pie from the oven, making sure to wear oven mitts. The warm, inviting smell filled the room instantly. One might find it weird to think that a Countess and the Inquisitor were, well, baking. Then again, had anyone met Tahirah, they would all figure out very quickly that it was something she greatly enjoyed.

"We did it~!" Her voice came out in a sweet singsongy tone, a giggle leaving her after as she looked at the pie as she set it onto the counter, then up at Ellana. "I just know this is going to be so good!"

[partystoragechest]

A story of romance, drama, and politics which neither Trevelyan nor Cullen wish to be in.

Canon divergent fic in which Josephine solves the matter of post-Wicked Hearts attention by inviting four noblewomen to compete for Cullen's affections. In this chapter, the banquet begins.

(Masterpost. Beginning. Previous entry. Next entry. Words: 3,616. Rating: all audiences. Warnings: brief mention of murder/decapitation, very close to the end.)

Chapter 24: The Banquet - Part 1

Trevelyan’s dress was not plum.

Her plum dress, sent oh-so-specially by her mother, was currently indisposed.

‘Indisposed’ here meant that it was, at this moment, being washed—quite thoroughly—by the laundresses. Because after it had been pressed and prepared yesterday, it had gone mysteriously absent—only to be discovered hours later, by Trevelyan herself, stuffed inside a sack of sugar.

And so, while the Baroness wore a sleek golden gown, and Lady Erridge one of ruffled green gossamer, and the Lady Samient an outfit of breeches and doublet—black, with striking red panels—Trevelyan simply wore her silk shift, and burgundy surcoat.

“You’re sure you saw her?” Lady Samient wondered, as Trevelyan recounted what had led to this choice of outfit. It was certainly one way to pass the time while they waited to enter the Great Hall.

“It was her,” Trevelyan confirmed, “that Sera.”

Because whilst scouring for the dress her ladies’ maids had failed to find, Trevelyan had seen someone. Certainly, it was dark, and they were dressed like any other servant—but she swore, in that glimpse, she recognised her. Sera.

“You ought to report it!” said Lady Erridge, who had, strangely, been the most furious about the matter—even more so than Trevelyan. “Tell Lady Montilyet!”

“No,” said Trevelyan. “If this is her response to informing on her once, then I should hate to find out the consequences of a second attempt.”

Because it all fit too well, the idea of Trevelyan having blabbed about the swapped sugar and salt being met with a dress covered in a such a substance, hours before it was due to be worn.

Besides, the only injured party was Trevelyan herself, rather than the dozens it would have been for the salt and sugar swapping. The laundresses did have some extra work now, but they were happy to do it, by way of apology for letting the dress out of sight in the first place.

“That is for the best,” the Baroness said. “You shall not stoop to her level. Play with the mabari, and you shall win only fleas.”

Trevelyan was suddenly quite grateful Sera had not resorted to covering her dress in fleas. But there was little time to think of that:

“Presenting Baroness Touledy of Val Misrenne; Lady Samient, daughter of Duke Samient; Lady Erridge of West Coldon; and Lady Trevelyan, of Ostwick!”

The crier’s call was their cue to enter. One last look of understanding passed between the Ladies. No matter how it had started, they would enjoy the rest of tonight.

The door opened, they entered. The frown was wiped from Trevelyan’s face, and replaced with awe. It seemed not only they knew how to dress for an occasion—the Great Hall had been decorated to perfection, under the guiding wisdom of Lady Montilyet.

Every other candle had been left unlit, resulting in an ambient warmth akin to a campfire’s glow. Tapestries and banners adorning the walls were of a rustic weave; mounted game served as focal points of the display. This grand space, which had once played the role of an opulent ballroom, was transformed, into an intimate country manor.

The guestlist reflected such intimacy. Only thirty attended—including the Ladies themselves—which the Great Hall made seem an even smaller number, with its size. Their gazes felt as intimidating as a hundred, however, as they applauded the Ladies’ entrance.

Trevelyan cast her eyes across this congregation, seeking faces of those she recognised, the anchors of safety she would cling to. But having done dreadfully little mingling in the noble kind of circles (and more in the mage kind of Circles), Trevelyan was hardly spoilt for choice.

There was a Dorian, as promised. He sported a black tunic, laden with gold embroidery, and stood beside the Inquisition’s flame-haired Spymaster, who wore a contrasting blue gown. It was so tight to her body, Trevelyan wondered how she concealed the doubtless many weapons she had hidden within.

Varric, meanwhile, wore half a very nice shirt, and was entertaining a few fans. Lady Montilyet, ever the consummate professional, glided past, ensuring goblets were full and people were merry. Her dress was of a muted blue-grey, that almost blended into the stone—intentionally so, most likely. She would not outshine her guests.

And then, there was the Commander.

Trevelyan hadn’t seen him in a day. Lady Erridge had told her, in that time, that his stubble had grown, but it appeared he must have trimmed it back since, for he looked remarkably like his normal self.

Not so pale, not so weak. Normal.

Handsome, even, for he was finely dressed. He wore a sort of doublet, sleeveless, to expose the arms of the fine shirt beneath. Odd, though. Trevelyan struggled to find any word to describe the colour of this waistcoat other than… plum.

How fortunate that Sera had played her prank, then. Trevelyan chuckled to think of what might have happened, had she attended wearing that dress her mother had sent. They’d have matched! How embarrassing it would have been. She’d have to thank Sera for the favour.

If only the little prankster could have tricked the Commander instead, into staying away somehow. For as well as he looked, Trevelyan still did not think it best for him to be in attendance. More and more, she was drawn to the suspicion that the person he treated with most contempt, was himself.

“Lady Trevelyan,” the Baroness said, stealing her attention away, “look over there.”

She nodded towards a small group of nobles—clearly Orlesian, going by the elaborate fashion—and indicated in particular a woman in a mask of turquoise, and a ballgown of silver. With pale yellow lace? Definitely Orlesian.

“That, is Comtesse Bervard.”

Ah.

Trevelyan had been told much of the Comtesse before their arrival. Like how one might learn all the types of wild animal that stalked a road, before travelling down it. And just as that information might make one terrified to leave their home, so did the Ladies’ warnings of Bervard make Trevelyan nervous now.

The Comtesse, she had been told, was a skilled player of the Great Game. Translated, that meant that she was callous, quick, used others for her own entertainment, and gossiped more than the Randy Dowager. Anyone who didn’t like it, would have a nice little visit from a bard.

“Why invite her?” Trevelyan wondered, very, very quietly.

“Because should this banquet be a success, all of the Heartlands shall hear of it within a week,” Touledy explained. “Everyone has their uses, your Ladyship. Though, to that point: do not say anything to her you do not wish the entirety of Thedas to know.”

Lady Samient smirked. “Do not say anything to her at all,” she corrected.

Like a bear, then. Do not look at it. Do not get close. Do not make eye contact. And if it sees you, pray.

But thankfully, stewards arrived, to lead them away from the Comtesse Bervard, and to their seats. The banquet was to take place across two long tables, that flanked the Great Hall’s central path. Like the Hall, they had been decorated with care. Evergreen wreaths made up the centrepieces, with ripe red fruits—possibly candied—nestled betwixt them. Pewter dishes lined the edges, and precisely-laid cutlery surrounded them. Rustic enough for Fereldans and Marchers, quaint enough for Orlesians. Montilyet was good.

To her relief, Trevelyan and the Ladies were escorted together, to the leftmost table. Though, unfortunately, it was not to last. Their stewards divided, and sat each of them two or so spaces away from the others. So perhaps Montilyet wasn’t that good.

At least Trevelyan had been situated at the end of the table, her back to the garden door. In case of emergency, she could make a run for it.

But she would at least wait to see who sat beside her, first. A steward pulled out the neighbouring chair, with a scrape so quiet it was barely a ‘scra’. Still, the movement caught Trevelyan’s eye, and she watched as a devastatingly handsome, incredibly clever man took his seat.

“Dorian!” she said, quite gladly. “I see you made it.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” he lied, already reaching for his glass. “Reminds me of home.”

Oh, she quite understood that. “Well, it’s lucky we’re sat together, at least.”

“Luck...” Dorian muttered, “or a direct request.”

“Ha! I’m flattered.”

“As you should be.”

Trevelyan smiled and left him to his drink, distracted instead by the arrival of further guests. A couple of Banns, one Arl, some Baron—and, of course, the Commander.

Where he sat, and indeed, where all of the guests at this particular table sat, though tedious to describe, would be important for events to come. Therefore:

Lady Samient was to the far left of Trevelyan, at what might be considered as the ‘top’ of the table, given its proximity to the Inquisitor’s throne. Two places down from her, was the Baroness Touledy; and near-opposite Touledy, was the Commander.

Two places down from Touledy sat Dorian. Opposite him was Lady Erridge, and next to Lady Erridge, there was an empty chair.

That empty chair was to be surprisingly important, in the farce that followed. And it all started with Baroness Touledy.

“Lady Trevelyan?” she called. “May I exchange seats with you? I need more space, for my leg and cane to rest.”

Though reluctant to abandon Dorian after he had so specifically sat with her, Trevelyan would not leave a friend in pain. And she was at least confident that he would not find the Baroness a dissatisfactory conversational partner.

“Of course,” she said, rising from her chair.

Dorian sighed. “Well, that lasted.”

Trevelyan laughed as she walked away, passing a grateful Baroness on her journey. Once seated, she absorbed the new landscape of faces surrounding her—most notably, the Commander’s, sat directly opposite.

She gave him a little smile. He reciprocated, and began to ask, “Lady Trevelyan, are you—?”

“Commander,” interrupted an approaching Lady Montilyet, sounding quite harried. She leant down to whisper something to him, which Trevelyan fully intended to hear: “The Marquis du Vert refuses to sit next to Bann Royton. Would you be able to sit in his place?”

There was a barely-contained look of exasperation on the Commander’s face. But nevertheless, he rose, nodding once to Trevelyan as he did so, and went to the empty chair beside Lady Erridge. Her Ladyship seemed quite startled by this. Quite startled indeed.

“Lady Trevelyan!” she called down the table. “Would you switch places with me? I cannot speak to Lady Samient from here.”

Trevelyan considered it for a moment. A long moment. But dutifully, she agreed, and got up from her chair.

“Thank you,” said the giddy Erridge, practically skipping by. Trevelyan, defeated by her sweetness, surrendered to the embrace of her new seat.

Quite by coincidence, she was now sat shoulder-to-shoulder with the Commander. She glanced at him, with a smile and a shrug, and a stifled laugh that escaped her mouth. He offered his own smile in return.

“Are you well?” he asked, retaining a little of that shyness from their previous encounter.

“I am,” she told him. “Are you?”

He confirmed he was, and let the thread of the conversation dangle there. It was like talking to him for the first time, again. But Trevelyan was well-practiced in this by now:

“That is a nice waistcoat,” she said, indicating the plum doublet.

“Ah—er, yes. Lady Montilyet chose it—or, rather, the one she chose was in green. This one was brought to me by mistake.”

“Then a happy mistake it is. I think this colour suits you quite well. Certainly better than green would have.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Thank you, you… too?”

“What?”

“You, you look nice. As well.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Trevelyan brushed her skirts so that they hung correctly over her legs, which was certainly not an excuse to escape eye contact. “Though I think—”

“Commander!”

Lady Montilyet returned, even more frazzled than before. “The Comtesse wishes to switch tables, and the Marquis now says he would rather sit with the Bann than near her. Would you..?”

Trevelyan held her mouth to stop herself from laughing, because this had to be a joke.

And yet, deadly serious, the Commander rose again. “Forgive me,” he muttered, as he followed Montilyet back to his original seat. The one he left behind was soon taken up by a man in a fanciful white mask.

And not long after, Lady Erridge leant forward. “Lady Trevelyan, would you—?”

Trevelyan sighed. “Lady Erridge, unless it is a matter of life and death, I shall not move from this spot.”

Erridge relented, and sank back into her chair. “Never mind.”

And so, it ended, with Lady Erridge in the centre, and the Commander opposite. The Baroness sat where Trevelyan first had, at the very end of the table, next to Dorian. Trevelyan sat on the other side, relieved that she was still, at least, not far from the garden door. Lady Samient had not moved at all.

Yet there was one seat left, across from her Ladyship in particular—and the arse it waited for finally arrived.

Turqoise mask, silver dress, yellow lace. The Comtesse Bervard settled into her chair. Poor Lady Samient.

“Top of the table,” said the Comtesse, her voice dripping with Orlesian glamour, “as it should be.”

The Baroness snorted into her goblet. Trevelyan rolled her eyes. This was going to be a long banquet.

“Friends and allies of the Inquisition!” Lady Montilyet called. She stood at the heart of the Hall, between the twin tables, and addressed all upon them. “Thank you all for coming, to solidify our bonds, and to forge new ones. The Inquisition has much to give to Thedas, and we hope to demonstrate that tonight, with warmth, mirth, and good food. Please, enjoy!”

She clapped her hands, and doors opened. An army of kitchen staff filed into the room, each one carrying a steaming plate of food. Well-rehearsed rows were formed around the tables and, all at once, the plates were laid.

Noise of approval came from the guests. The first course appeared to be some kind of baked fruit—but presented in fine slices, and with cuts of meat and cheese. A balance of Orlesian tastes, and Fereldan simplicity.

All conversation quieted, as people began to eat. Polite mouths kept closed, the only sounds those of hummed appreciation. Until, that was, a fork clinked down onto its plate at the other end of the table.

The Comtesse Bervard leant forward, and gazed down its length. “Who am I eating with, hm?” she asked. “I see new faces here. Introduce yourselves to me.”

The Baroness shot Trevelyan a look, but she needed no prompting. She retreated into her chair, hopeful that the extravagant mask of the Marquis du Vert next to her would do enough to hide her face.

And it did. Because it was not Trevelyan whom the Comtesse targeted first. “You there,” she said, pointing at Erridge. “Your Ladyship, is it?”

It was clear, to anyone who knew her, that Lady Erridge was nervous. For anyone who knew her, knew she did not miss an opportunity to speak. And yet, when the Comtesse addressed her, she merely nodded in reply.

“Well, what is your name? You must have one.”

Erridge attempted to straighten her posture. “I am Lady Erridge, of West Coldon.” When the Comtesse continued to stare at her, Erridge added: “In Ferelden.”

“Ah, I see why you were so keen to hide it. You need not be so embarrassed to be Fereldan here. We are all easy company, I am sure.”

Lady Erridge tried a smile.

“But I admit, I have never heard your family name before. How delightful to increase one’s knowledge of the world.”

“Well, you might have heard of us,” Erridge mumbled, gaining a little sense of pride. “My family are quite prolific traders, in stained glass, particularly.”

The Baroness grimaced. Lady Samient tensed. The Comtesse’s stare narrowed.

“Oh, I see,” she said, speaking as one does to a infant, “you are in trade. How sweet.” Addressing the table more generally, she went on: “This is why I am so grateful to the Council of Heralds. In Ferelden, they give titles to anyone.”

Chuckles rippled through the other Orlesian guests. The mocking little chorus was cut short, however, by the screech of Samient’s fork against her plate. Accidental, of course.

The Comtesse turned on her. “Lady Samient, you have forgotten your manners.”

“Oh, have I?” Samient replied. “I suppose we left them in the same place.”

The Comtesse laughed. “Still a little spitfire, just like your mother.” She dabbed her mouth with her napkin, and muttered, “And I hear you like the stables, just like your mother.”

Oh no. If she was referring to what Trevelyan believed she was referring to, then it was best to brace for whatever would come next.

Yet to Trevelyan’s surprise, Lady Samient chuckled along. “Yes, the ones in Skyhold are very well-kept for their location.”

A Bann nearby agreed, and began to talk fondly of the Inquisition’s horsemaster. Trevelyan exchanged a glance with Touledy, all too relieved that was over. They both turned their attentions to Erridge.

The ever-cheerful and bright Lady Erridge sagged as if a candle that had been snuffed out. Her food was half-eaten, being pushed idly around her plate. Had Trevelyan not already been disposed to intensely dislike this Comtesse Bervard, she would certainly hate the woman now.

Servants came to clear plates, providing enough distraction for the Baroness Touledy to see to Lady Erridge’s mood. Through whispers behind Dorian, and a little blown kiss, she managed to put a smile back on dear Erridge’s face.

But Trevelyan was not quite satisfied with this.

She awaited the servants’ return, and the second course they brought with them. Plates were set before the guests—well-cooked meat with a selection of fine vegetables, in a rich sauce. Everyone, naturally, reached for their cutlery. And as the Comtesse reached for hers, Trevelyan performed just a teensy-weensy bit of magic.

“Oh!” gasped the Comtesse, dropping her knife the moment she touched it. “It gave me a shock!”

Trevelyan bit her lip to conceal the absolute smugness with which she wished to smile. Though she expected a reprimanding glare from Dorian, when she caught his eye, it seemed he suffered the same struggle.

And Maker, if only that had been the end of it. But there were still two more courses. And the Comtesse Bervard was determined to talk through each of them.

“How does your gracious father find the increased Chantry tithes?” she asked Lady Samient, in the midst of a riveting discussion about how healthy the Bervard finances were. “My people have been whining, despite all the Chantry does for us in these uncertain times.”

“If there has been complaint,” said Samient, “I haven’t heard of it.”

Nothing to entertain her in that answer. So she turned on Touledy.

“I would ask you, Baroness,” she called across the table, “but you do not have a Chantry to tithe. I expect your people don’t even pay tax.”

What bait! Touledy composed her response carefully: “My people do pay tax, and gladly. For unlike the Chantry tithe, it has some use to them. The roads are well-kept, the commerce flows, no child goes hungry, and my guard is strong.”

The last part in particular caused an unpleasantly confident tip of the Comtesse’s head. “Really? For I have heard your guard was put quite to the test, recently. A skirmish on your land.”

“And they saw it off, did they not? That is proof, I would say.”

The Comtesse had no answer to this, it seemed. She reclined in her chair, and continued speaking to a nearby Baron.

With her distracted, Trevelyan whispered to the Baroness: “A skirmish?”

“Bandits,” Touledy replied, reassuringly nonchalant, “though more organised than the usual louts.”

“That shouldn’t be allowed,” Dorian said. “If they’re smart enough to organise themselves, then they’re smart enough to do something more useful. Become a dancing troupe, perhaps.”

The Baroness laughed. Trevelyan had been quite right that the pair would get along; they’d been doing so famously for the last two courses.

Smiling, she decided to leave them to it, but felt an odd sense of cold as she withdrew. Like a stare.

“And who might you be, on the end there? I do not recognise you.”

Well, shit.

Trevelyan turned, and saw the Comtesse Bervard leaning over the table, piercing mask pointed directly at her.

There was no escaping it: “I am Lady Trevelyan, of Ostwick.”

“Really?” Though the Comtesse’s eyes were near-hidden, her glare was petrifying. “I have met all the Trevelyans of Ostwick, and I don’t recall your face. I am a regular attendee of Lady Lucille Trevelyan’s balls, you know.”

Touledy swept in: “Lady Trevelyan is the Bann’s seventh child; she attended the Circle in Ostwick for some years.”

There was a laugh from that mask. A cold, wicked laugh.

“Oh, you’re the little apostate. How intriguing to meet you here.”

Trevelyan put on her best smile. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

“Naturally,” said the Comtesse. “Though I wonder, if you were truly there, could you tell me something about Ostwick Circle?”

“What is it you wish to ask?”

The Comtesse’s hands crept forward, and in a voice that echoed a thousand times, she asked: “Is it true that the Templars cut off the mages’ heads and sent them to the First Enchanter as trophies?”

The candles began to flicker.

Oh, no.