#vista wardens

[sweaterregrets]

march on little sister 🫡

[felassan]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard art book pages, under a cut due to spoilers:

This sequential series was another way to explore the story structure that was solidifying. It relates the story of Rook, who returns to her ship to find the Inquisitor waiting and expecting a report. Rook tells of the Necropolis mission being interrupted by Solas. Making uneasy alliances. Going undercover with the Qunari, rising in the ranks, and then betraying them to Tevinter. Finally heading to Weisshaupt, stopping the Wardens from making a huge mistake, and ultimately joining them and slaying an Archdemon.

The Dumat The ship idea was coalescing. The name Dumat was pulling ahead (named for the first Archdemon). We were on Frostbite, so we knew we could probably borrow some of that awesome ocean tech from Battlefield! One problem was that thematically, boats didn't quite line up with the spy theme. They're too easy to spot and attack. But you know what's not easy to spot? Submarines. The idea was completely insane... so we had to try it. This brought up the challenge of anachronism. Submarines don't fit in fantasy games. Obviously. But what if we found a way? The first attempts were to make a submersible boat. Something that looked mostly like a boat but could plausibly dive under the surface.

The more we researched and referenced submarine mechanics, the more nautical they became. Subs are incredibly sophisticated marvels of engineering, but the more we referenced them, the more we strained the believably of our fantasy world.

Top: Submarines provide the element of surprise. It was fun to explore how to exit and enter the ship for each mission. Bottom: Sneaking past Qunari dreadnought fleets and giving fishermen nightmares.

We thought it would be fascinating to have a mysterious prisoner in your brig. Do you let him out?

Dragon Sub To make a submarine that fit into our world, we tried to make it look more like a sea monster. We had already named it after the dragon Dumat, so it felt like a natural fit.

We tried to disguise the sub as a natural creature, making it look more like a dragon or a sea monster.

Dumat cutaway. We wanted the interior of the Dumat, built in Tevinter, to feel luxurious and mysterious.

Top: To help give a voice to the Dumat, we explored having a captain and an engineer. They had been shelved, along with their experimental vessel, for decades. We even explored them having an unrequited love story. Bottom: We designed a mystery engine that the engineer had to feed seemingly random objects into in order to keep it running. Ten dried lavender flowers, five quail's eggs, three brass belt buckels, etc... It would have served as a way to offer up some light fetch quests: "While you're out, could you pick up ten giant spider fangs?"

Underwater Mansion The direction that started to feel the most correct was the underwater mansion on the back of a creature. It was much more mysterious and appropriate to the fantasy genre. It still gave us the awesome underwater vistas, but we weren't limited to the claustrophobic restrictions inherent to submarines.

We explored having a giant golem or a colossal sea creature carry the Dumat mansion.

The mansion on the back of a giant... something that you would only catch small glimpses of. Is it a giant sea monster? A colossal construct?

Covert Commandos "Covert commandos" was our answer to the "fantasy spy" theme. Rather than slipping into the rogue mindset that that implies, it left room for warriors to smash things and mages to light things up with fireballs. We tried to imagine what the high adventure of covert commandos might look like. It was a lot of fun to explore different team-ups between classes and factions. How do they solve problems differently? Bottom left: Going undercover with a trading caravan to make a map. Bottom right: Escaping a dragon on griffon back.

Top: A heist becomes a rescue. Center left: Evading guards in the Undercity. Center right: Three brave warriors hold the gap while civilians escape. Bottom: Everyone is on edge when an Antivan Crow enters the room.

The palanquin heist.

Top: Switcheroo at the prisoner exchange. Bottom: The party holds a chokepoint.

Top: Complicated ecosystems. Center: Sneaking through the streets of Minrathous. Bottom: Scoundrels flee when the Crows come to town.

Top: Steal some uniforms and bluff your way past a guard. Bottom left: A high-speed aravel chase. Bottom right: The team using its skills to outwith some bandits.

Bottom left: Clearing a roadblock. Bottom right: Sabotage down at the docks.

Killing time until the monsters show up.

Top right: Discovering the griffon sanctuary. Left: Just five more seconds! Bottom right: End of the line.

Early NPCs The early stages of character design are exciting. Writers and artists will develop simple sketches or descriptions to start filling up the blank canvas. We start simple. If a character works as a thumbnail sketch, they'll work when blown up to full size. It's a great way to keep an eye on shape and color, to make sure they all stand out from one another (an important element on the battlefield). We explore NPCs throughout the duration of a project. They change constantly as we discover more about the project and have new problems to solve. Top left: An early idea for Cole to act as a compassionate voice for Solas. Bottom left: Some characters are strong right out of the gate and change very little, like Emmrich here. We won't know until the project nears completion. Bottom right: It's always fun to bring old characters into newer games. In this case, explored Sten from Origins as a dreadnought captain.

From where we left off in Inquisition and Trespasser, we knew Solas would be a central figure. We wanted to show Solas having cast off his hermit disguise. He was never flashy, but he was calculating and intentional, so we gave him the ancient elven god equivalent of a business suit. --- In the early stages it helps to explore simple expressions of each character. It forces us to exaggerate, focus on fewer details, and really emphasise what matters most. Eventually we can start getting more specific, but this is a valuable stage not to skip over.

Top: Early sketches of Ghilan'nain and her experiments emerging from the sea. Center: A dwarf and her construct friend. Bottom: In earlier drafts, Solas had a partner who could play bad cop to Solas's good cop.

Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain were the two remaining elven gods. From the beginning of the project we were excited about a double Blight. --- Bottom left: Ghilan'nain is the mother of the halla, goddess of monsters. Bottom right: Elgar'nan is the god of vengeance and the sun, fire and shadow. The eclipse motif made sense very early on.

An early version of the party meets up in a private booth at the Blue Blood club.

some other pages -

Some opening pages

Foreword

Google Books preview pages Part One

Google Books preview pages Part Two

Amazon preview pages

Book art credits:

BioWare art: Matt Rhodes, Ramil Sunga, Albert Urmanov, Christopher Scoles, Nick Thornborrow, Steve Klit

Volta art: Gui Guimaraes, Stéphanie Bouchard, Akim Kaliberda, Alejandro Olmedo, Alexey Zaryuta, Julien Carrasco, Maksim Marenkov, Marianne Martin, Mariia Istomina, Marion Kivits, Matti Marttinen, Mélanie Bourgeois, Pablo Hurtado De Mendoza, Rael Lyra, Rodrigo Ramos, Thomas Schaffer, Tiago Sousa, Tristan Kang, Vladimir Mokry, Yintion J, Joseph Meehan, Stefan Atanasov, Julien Carrasco

Additional art: Marc Holmes, Thomas Scholes

[moonlight-1108]

(ACLARACIÓN:dibuje esto solo para aclarar un punto d vista,si ven mi contenido,no dibujo este tipo de cosas y MUCHO MENOS ROMANTISO ESTO!)porqué lo digo?no faltara quien piense que hago pasar esto como algo positivo,Dios!no.No quiero malentendidos.

Ok,ok como dije estaba viendo Superjail de nuevo y me pregunte,qué pasaría con Once-ler en el futuro de Superjail como dictadura y su relación con Warden?a lo que pensé en… No creo que salga algo bueno de eso,realmente creó que se pondría algo horrible su relación.Tomemos en cuenta que Warden es un hombre inestable en todo sentido y creo que en el futuro se pone peor en TODO SENTIDO.Igual solo dibuje esto y ya,quien sabe si siga con esto…tengo que actualizar otras cosas xdd

Volviendo al punto de los dibujos,realmente en serio no creo que su relación sea bonita en el futuro si Superjail se vuelve en el apocalipsis dictopico.Warden se pone aún peor y realmente indeseable para Once-ler y los demás :// lamento decir que al menos esa es mi versión sobre esto.

Por suerte para ustedes,es solo uno de los futuros posibles o dimensiones…nada canon de esto en mi historia pero aún así es triste.

Igual,tengo que dibujar la versión de Once-ler del futuro,realmente se nota lo alejado que quiere estar de la dictadura pero aún así está obligado,LO SIENTO OK,pero no puedo imaginarlos felices con eso :,,((.

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

(CLARIFICATION: I drew this only to clarify a point of view, if you see my content, I do not draw this type of things and I DON'T ROMANTIC THIS!!) why do I say this? there will be those who think that I pass this off as something positive, God! no I don't want any misunderstandings.

Ok, ok like I said I was watching Superjail again and I wondered, what would happen to Once-ler in the future of Superjail as a dictatorship and his relationship with Warden? So I thought… I don't think anything good will come out of that, it really did make their relationship horrible. Let's take into account that Warden is an unstable man in every sense and I think that in the future he will get worse in EVERY WAY. Maybe I just drew this and that's it. Who knows if I will continue with this… I have to update other things xdd

Getting back to the cartoon thing, I really don't think their relationship will be pretty in the future if Superjail becomes the dictatopian apocalypse. Warden becomes even worse and really undesirable to the Once-ler and the others :// sorry to say. At least that's my version of this.

Luckily for you, it's just one of the possible futures or dimensions…nothing canon about this in my story but it's still sad.

Anyway, I have to draw the Once-ler version of the future, it really shows how far he wants to be from the dictatorship but he is still forced, SORRY OK, but I can't imagine them happy with that :,,((.

[demifiendrsa]

Thedas Calls - Dragon Age Day (2023)

A full reveal for Dragon Age: Dreadwolf is scheduled for summer 2024.

Latest details

Thedas Calls

You’ve visited the lands of Thedas thrice before in our games and many more times in comics, books, art, and short stories. This time, you’ll be venturing to places unseen and returning to places from long ago.

To celebrate Dragon Age Day, we wanted to show you some of those sights.

We stand on the precipice of change. This is a world brimming with stories and characters waiting to meet you. The fate of this world teeters on the edge of a knife. In past games, you only got to see a slice of the world. In Origins, it was Ferelden—a land ravaged by war and Dark Spawn. In II, it was Kirkwall and its locales—festering with corruption and a dark underworld. And in Inquisition, you ventured across much of Orlais—facing down political intrigue as often as combat.

This time, however, much more of Thedas is yours to see. The desolate, beautiful badlands of the Anderfels with curtains of distant mountainous spires. The twisting canals and gleaming towers of Antiva, where Crows may lurk in any shadow. The turquoise seas of Rivain with its rushes of greenery and hardy sea-faring people. And of course, there’s more.

We felt this was best for the tale we wanted to tell this time and we hope you enjoy it as much as we have! It’s allowed us to create many more locations than past games, including both some you’ve longed to go to…and some you’ve never heard of before!

The Places You’ll Go

To help capture the wonders of Thedas, we partnered with three wonderful artists from our exceptionally talented community and gave them an early look at what you’ve now seen. We’ve always been so fortunate to have such an incredibly skilled community of artists, and getting to work with these three was a true joy!

We asked each of them to create a vista of one of the three regions in the video based on their interpretation of it in their own unique styles. Please enjoy their wonderful work, and be sure to send them some love when you check out their personal channels for more of their art!

—“Rivain” by Gabriela Isache

Upon eastern shores and sunkissed sands, the Lords of Fortune no longer hold dominion over the coasts of Rivain—not when dragons are growing bolder and laying waste to their ships.

—“Antiva” by Nipuni

Ever the pinnacle of mystery and intrigue, the Crows watch from the deep shadows of beautiful Antiva. Something, however, is amiss, and they are set on uncovering the source.

—“Anderfels” by Solelle

To the far west, three Grey Wardens patrol the Anderfels. Tremors have been creating disturbances of late. Their cause is unknown. Upon the distant horizon, a storm of ominous intent brews and darkens the skies.

[charlesandmartine]

Sunday 17th November 2024

As we sat having breakfast in our little back garden and reading the UK news on our phones, we note all the similarities here. Midwives are threatening industrial action over pay, politicians are admitting taking freebies, trade tariffs with Trumps USA are a worry, housing shortage, 3 year waiting time for operation on public health system, banning under 16s from using social media, high inflation, moaning about paying £1/ litre for petrol/ diesel..... The list goes on.

The next stop is Cloncurry, only a couple of hours up the road, through endless outback with nothing of note on route. Except for Mary Kathleen. In the late 1950s, this was a town, an almost utopian town.

On Sunday 4 July 1954, Norm McConachy and John Walton were making their way along a dry creek when their truck broke down with a loose lead on a spark plug. McConachy is said to be the one who actually took the Geiger counter out of the truck and turned it on. As he continued walking up the dry creek bed, the instrument needle reportedly went off the scale. McConachy then called John Walton who was coaxing their broken-down vehicle back to life. The ore body was then discovered by following a 1.5 kilometre trail of radioactive boulders along the drainage system. The claim was pegged, and an application for a mining lease was lodged at the Mining Warden's office in Cloncurry

The deposit was named Mary Kathleen in honour of Norm McConachy's wife, who had died shortly before their discovery. And so it was that the very valuable commodity Uranium was discovered. The town of Mary Kathleen was constructed in just one year to serve the mining operation which commenced in October 1956 with the treatment plant commissioning in June 1958. The contract was to supply UK Atomic Energy Authority with £40M worth of Uranium Oxide. In the first five years, 4080 tonnes were produced, shipped in 44 Gallon drums to England.

The community built in Mary Kathleen comprised 1,100 families and 200 single men. The town was well equipped with an Olympic size swimming pool, schools, churches, pubs, restaurants, library, cinema, sporting club, general stores, two banks, milk bar, cafes, and hospital. They really did have a modern town, with everything they needed. Rio Tinto, their employer, charged families $8 per week for a 2 bedroomed house, free electricity, no rates, free amenities, and good pay. During the years 1956-1963, a 23 acre market garden was established to provide fresh fruit, veg, and eggs for the town. All they had to was go mine large quantities of a nasty radioactive substance like Uranium.

By 1963 the contract with the UK had been satisfied. A second phase of mining was completed between 1974 and 1982 shipping Uranium Oxide to Japan. After that, the production finished, the buildings were dismantled and sold leaving empty streets of concrete slabs, dwarf walls, tumble weed and a monument to the town's completion. Very little now remains that could demonstrate the vibrant town that once stood there, the lives that it would have represented, the vitality of human day to day existence, testimonies of happy enriched lives, or even tales tinged with sadness, gone with so little to show for it.

Once again, Mr Europcar would've slept uneasily as we followed the brown sign and uphill to the quarry along a very poor road, partially paved, partially unpaved, but together with the grandaddy of all potholes. The nuts and bolts shuddered and shook until we reached a distance of 6km and felt compassion for the Ford and completed the rest of the journey on foot. So we trudged, hatted, up the stony road a further kilometre until the vista opened and there in its glory was the long disused quarry with its pyramid stepped sides of sheer granite leading down and down to assure blue waters, lying so still far below us. The use of this place was dissolved in 1982 and has lain undisturbed, dormant, relatively unvisited ever since. Apart from 4x4 vehicles, it is unapproachable, largely unsigned, on the tourist trail, but difficult to find or access. In the time we were there 3 other 4x4s managed the distance and poor roads. But for us, the experience was well worth the effort, to see the abandoned town where the people who worked this place lived their lives and then the relic of their labours now living its eternity in peace and tranquility now the big earth/ rock movers, the dust, the dirt have now long gone, a monument that tells its own story if anyone can get to listen to it.

Completing our journey to Cloncurry was simple once we managed to find our way out of the abandoned town. In their flight, all signs back to the Barkly Highway had gone!

Happy Birthday, Karen x

ps. We went out for a little walk around the little town at around 8.30 tonight, so warm, and it's like a ghost town. All shut up for the night. These Aussies really are party animals. Worst thing is the Cloncurry Baker's. We'd heard nothing but good things about the famous Cloncurry Curry Pie. Disastrously, the appalling news stuck to the baker's window stated that due to some miscreant member of staff not showing up and letting everybody down, let alone the whole town down, the Cloncurry Bakers will remain closed!!! Bang goes my pie then.

pps. It has to be stated firmly here that this is definitely a neat, tidy, clean, and comly town of charming character. It is a complete surprise and exceeds our expectations by quite a long way. We shall do well here, I feel on our two nights.

[victoriadallonfan]

- Pitch 5.3

This sequence does a lot to really put things in perspective for Victoria in the early phase of Ward

1. It shows how eager she is to grasp to anything reminding her of the “good old days” where she had some measure of innocence and the belief that she had a bright future, trying to preserve them with care and affection as much as possible, even though they aren’t 1:1 the same. Because if she can preserve SOME good in her life, she can remain “whole”.

2. It shows how directly opposite this makes her in comparison to Carol, who removes any reminder of the better days in favor of… nothing. It had just become an empty room that was just THERE now, her hopes and dreams for the future of her children gone. However, rather tellingly, she doesn’t send any of these items to Victoria within the Asylum, despite her daughter clearly wanting them.

3. It expands on New Wave’s station in Brockton Bay, financially. Manpower is mentioned as spoiling Victoria with gifts, juxtaposed with Victoria being excited about earning 2k dollars around the time she was 17 (for reference, had I not paid for EMT/College courses, I would have made nearly 4k when I was 18, in a year or so working at a movie theatre).

What makes this so interesting that the last we hear about Manpower, he has no job, in fact it’s implied that the reason New Wave struggled so much financially (see: Arc 2) was because Carol was the one whom supported both families with her job + donations made by the city to their team.

3.5. When this is juxtaposed to Taylor earning that same amount of money in one meeting with the Undersiders, it really puts into perspective that there does seem to be a huge wealth disparity between indie heroes and supervillains, or at the very least, between the donations New Wave accrued compared to the protection racket the Undersiders enforced + all the other payments made to them by Coil, and how that might further explain the growth of villainy in Earth Bet pre-GM.

4. Victoria planning on leaving the city to live with Dean (or as she put it, follow him), is interesting because there’s never really another character in the entire series that makes Victoria decide to alter her entire life around in order stay by their side. And yes, she’s 17, she’s in love, a lot of people can chalk it up to her simply not knowing better. Maybe.

But I think this is actually more of the peak of Victoria’s flaw in Ward, where she puts people onto pedestals and - in a sense - worships them. Vista, Yamada, Sveta, and Miss Militia are all characters that she highlights as the ideal heroes whom she aspires to be like, and each one fails in her eyes over the story to different degrees (and different degrees of fairness): Sveta is willing to kill people while under the Goddess influence (something that not even Vic was willing to do), Yamada broke her trust and detached from her nearly entirely, Miss Militia didn’t really give a shit when Victoria saved her Wardens from being murdered and stopped WW3, and Vista has murdered and allowed awful people to go free ala Defiant (it’s very telling that Sveta and Vista were ones that Victoria was willing to overlook, because they are tied into #1 point above, whereas Yamada’s breach of trust could not be salvaged).

Dean was all of them, but ramped up to 10. He was her soulmate. He was everything she wanted in a hero.

He died. And all she has are remnants and pieces that can never really live up to the hype in her mind. Not even Dean himself.

[daybreakrising]

@dhahabibi: “Do you ever miss the sun?” said Kaveh, to a particular warden as they look out into the dark sea from the other side of the glass in the meropide.

This is one of his favourite places in the Fortress. There's a peacefulness to the vista beyond; the fronds of seaweed idly drifting in the tides, the lazy rippling of schools of fish swimming by. But it's also a warning - there's no denying the power of the ocean down here, the frightening vastness of its depths. This glass may hold it at bay, but with a single crack, a chip in the armour, the full wrath of the sea would be upon them and they would be powerless against it.

Do you ever miss the sun?

He turns his attention to the man at his side, taking in the head of golden hair, the vibrant clothes. Such a contrast to himself, with his monochromatic tones. Kaveh stands out amongst staff and inmates alike down here. He brings light and colour to a naturally dreary place, like a beacon calling home lost sailors.

"You've experienced Fontaine's weather often enough, surely?" The response is uttered with a playful quirk of the lips, not quite a full smile, but certainly half of one. "We don't get much sun to miss."

He shifts his weight, just enough so that the gap between them closes a little; his shoulder lightly bumps Kaveh's for a split second. Were they alone, he wouldn't hesitate to lay a hand at the base of his neck, his spine; anywhere, really. There's a magnetic force to the architect that almost compels him to touch. But he is ever mindful of the eyes that are always upon him; upon them.

"I think I've come to prefer it down here." He continues, an almost content look crossing his face. "Besides, it's hard to miss something you've hardly experienced for over a decade. I've almost forgotten what the sun feels like." And why would I miss the sun when an echo of it stands beside me?

[shakertwelve]

“I want to make a transaction,” I said.

Whatever.

“What’s the transaction?” the one with the beard and brown hair asked.  He stood from his cot, adjusting his glasses.

I didn’t answer right away.

The two of them were Orchard.  Ex-Boston.  Apparently people Ashley had crossed paths with, in a former life.  Slave peddlers who used their individual powers to alter slaves in mind and body, to fit custom orders.  Vista had said the Wardens and Foresight had been successful in picking them up.

don't fucking tell me victoria is gonna turn out to be justified in this. after everything?

[crackinglamb]

WIP Wednesday Whenever

Tagged by @noire-pandora, thank you! 💕

Tagging @mogwaei, @bdafic, @shretl, @lilbittymonster, @ir0n-angel and @fiadhaisteach. No pressure!

I've reached the penultimate arc of WG, y'all. I'm both excited and overwhelmed to finally get to this point in the writing. From the very earliest parts of the draft (now going on two years old, holy crap), I knew I wanted the main storyline to end this way. Now all I have to do is not fall apart in the middle of it.

Imogen has reached the Western Approach...

(Under a cut for mention of dead bodies and Blight related existential dread. I've been told this scene is very evocative.)

---

In the distance the heat made the black patches shimmer and waver, but she could still find the places where the dead lay, desiccated into grotesque postures where they'd fallen. Their armor and weapons were as shiny and sharp as the day they died, nearly a thousand years ago. She remembered reading somewhere that the Second Blight had so thoroughly ravaged the Approach that the dead didn't even decompose, because nothing survived, not even bacteria. It was why this region was now a desert, in fact, although she had other theories on that, considering the rest of Thedas seemed to bounce back well enough from the Blights.

Mythal killed a Titan, she thought. Was this where it was when it lived? Is this why they call it the Abyss? The Void? For sure no one knows what lies at the bottom of this trench other than darkspawn.

She couldn't look away from the scene in front of her. No carrion birds flew overhead, nothing moved, it was silent enough to hear the sibilant whisper of sand on sand. There wasn't even a smell. Or at least, there wasn't the smell she would expect from such a battlefield. The back of her throat closed up, reminding her of how the air tasted and felt in the future Redcliffe. She'd thought then that it was because of the red lyrium. But no, it was the Blight that made each breath itch in her lungs.

The others caught up and Stroud dismounted next to her, looking at the other side of the canyon, his expression both bleak and knowing. He glanced at her in the saddle for a moment before his eyes returned inexorably to the vista. “You have the look of one who has never seen such a thing, Inquisitor.”

“I...haven't. There's really no way to prepare for it. Knowing isn't the same as seeing.”

“I suppose that is true.” His lilting voice seemed out of place, too gentle and soft for such a grisly location. “It is little comfort to know that this is victory.”

“Yeah...”

“Come, Inquisitor, let us make sure this ritual site is as empty as it should be, and then we can leave this place.”

Imogen watched him turn away from the view as if he was struggling to do it. She wondered how the physical presence of so much Blight affected him, a Warden who'd served long enough that his Calling could have been real. She turned Squirrel away and her gaze landed on Hawke, watching them from the meager shade of the tall stone columns that marked the site. Elly's eyes were sympathetic when they met hers as she dismounted.

“You all right, Genny?”

“Yeah, just...a little overwhelmed.”

“C'mon, the sooner we check this out, the sooner we can leave.”

“That's what Stroud said too.”

Hawke scoffed. “At last we agree on something.”

The trio walked along the bridge that suspended the ritual tower over the edge of the Reach. The site stood on a spur of rock that seemed to simply hang in the air. Imogen was sure that was an illusion, though. The ground itself was simply so saturated with the Blight that it absorbed all the light that shone on it. There was a lingering feeling of wrongness about the place, but it was empty and sand-swept. There was no blood, no demons, no Venatori. As she'd hoped.

Hawke shuddered. “This place is fucking awful.”

[fartasticdurge]

Nec-romance

part 8/9

Join Bellara in this premiere serial as she recounts her companion's most thrilling and inspirational moments, adding her own artistic interpretation and revealing insider details directly from the characters.

Feel the allure of necromancy engulf you as you ascend from the cool, silent lower halls of the Necropolis to the windswept, Fade-drenched vista of the Lighthouse, mirroring the romantic journey of Rook and Emmrich.

The barrier shattered with a deafening crack, casting the city in a rain of crimson shards that dissolved into the storm-laden air. For a moment, Rook lingered, her breath catching as the final ward that had kept Minrathous locked away fell. Beyond the broken barrier, the city loomed—its streets writhing with corrupted life, twisted spires glowing faintly with the unholy light of Elgar’nan’s influence. Around her, the factions surged forward, each playing their part in the strategy she had spent many nights perfecting.

The Dalish archers moved like shadows along the rooftops, their arrows finding purchase in vulnerable flesh; the mages unleashed torrents of controlled destruction, shattering the lines of twisted magisters. The Grey Wardens cut through the chaos with unflinching precision. Amid the chaos, the Antivan Crows moved with deadly grace, their blades flashing like fleeting shadows, cutting down enemies with surgical precision as they dismantled key defenses Rook had marked.

It was all happening as she had envisioned—a fragile but potent unity born of desperation and trust.

As Emmrich and Harding joined her at the breach, she felt a rare swell of pride and relief, the weight of her choices settling not as failure, but as hope. They had a chance. For the first time, as her companions stepped through the threshold and into the hell Minrathous had become, Rook allowed herself to believe in it.

The journey to Minrathous was grueling, the road littered with the aftermath of Elgar’nan’s influence. The spires of Minrathous, once symbols of Tevinter’s power, now rose like jagged claws against the fractured sky. The streets, warped by Elgar’nan’s magic, twisted into unfamiliar shapes. But for Rook, the city’s darkness was deeply familiar. She had walked these streets before, as a Shadow Dragon, cloaked in secrecy and purpose and she wouldn’t let a god change that.

Memories surfaced unbidden—silent missions in the dead of night, whispered orders that carried the weight of lives. She remembered the cold satisfaction of completing her tasks and the hollow emptiness that followed. This was where she had learned to move unseen, to kill without hesitation. And now, those skills would be tested in the open, against a foe who saw it all.

They had fought through waves of corrupted magisters and twisted creatures, the air heavy with the stench of blood and the crackle of magic. But Rook’s focus never wavered. She led them through the chaos, her voice cutting through the noise with commands that steadied the faltering and drove them forward. Until the giant tendril dropped Viper and Tarquin right at her feet.

“You’re alive!” Rook enthused over her Shadow Dragons.

“Thanks to Solas.” Tarquin said. “He’s been the only thing between us and Elgar’nan.”

“Stay with them.” Rook said as she looked towards Emmrich and Harding. “I’m going to talk to Solas.”

Rook watched him from a distance, her unlikely interlocutor wielding power with precise efficiency, flung the blight tendrils against the crumbling buildings, their grotesque forms smashing against the brick with sickening thuds. The air seemed to crackle with her simmering anger, and with each destructive blow, she felt a new wave of frustration rise within her. As Rook approached Solas, a tendril whipped out with such force that it almost hit her, but Solas reacted instantly and caught it before it could strike.

“You are as surprising as ever.” Solas said in a firm, unwavering tone. “Even I could not have escaped that prison. For you to manage it…”

Flashes of burning molten rage rose in her, each image of her fear and pain from her captivity sending fresh waves of agony through her, like a searing fire that threatened to consume her from within. “I should end you right here.”

“I understand your anger. If there had been any other way–”

“There is no other way with you… If always ends up with someone else paying for your mistakes.” Rook snapped. “Me. The Shadow Dragons. Varric.” Tears welled up in her eyes as memories of Varric, his quick wit, his infectious laughter, and his warmth, flooded her mind, but she blinked them away, pushing the emotions down. “You did something to my mind to keep seeing him.”

“Yes.” Solas responded promptly, showing no signs of hesitation. “And I was wrong to do so.”

“I knew you’d turn on me. All that big talk about freedom and justice, but when it counts, you’re no different than the magisters. You’re no different from Elgar’nan.”

“I know.” Solas said, his voice strained. “I betrayed you because I believed that only I could save this world.” He paused for a moment. “But I was wrong, Rook. I have not stopped Elgar’nan. I have not even defeated his Archdemon. The victories that have been won since Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain escaped are yours, not mine. If we are to save this world, we must work together.”

At the outrageous suggestion, Rook's laughter filled the air, a guttural sound that seemed to shake the very foundation of the rock beneath them. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You just finished apologizing for the last time you betrayed me.”

“I know. I cannot change the past–”

“How stupid do you think I am?” Rook cut in. “The best possible version of this is that we kill Elgar’nan… And then you finish your ritual and drown the world in demons.”

“If joining me and stopping Elgar’nan requires the Veil to stay in place, then I will pay that price, unflinching. I swear by my own foolish pride, by love for friends I’ve failed and hurt, by everything I ever held as sacred.”

If she didn’t know any better, Rook might have believed him, his words as smooth as honey and as convincing as a well-rehearsed lie. He always did seem so earnest in his delivery. The price of his errors was paid in blood and sacrifice, with many lives lost to ensure his heroic image.

“It will never come down by my hand.”

Rook found it hard to believe him. She had no idea what it would require to outwit the elven god of lies. The thought of stabbing him the moment he looked away crossed her mind. Looking at her allies, she realized her plan was flawed and cursed herself for not having a better one. If he managed to get them closer to Elgar’nan, she would ally with him for now, but she refused to let herself hope. Not this time.

Even with the Dread Wolf on her side, albeit temporary, her nerves remained on edge as they headed towards the source of the blight's control. As she observed him, she plotted how to defeat him after he inevitably turned against her, looking for flaws in his defenses. Unfortunately, there weren’t many.

But as the blight seemed to manifest more aggressively the further they got to the source, Bellara was being held among the tendrils.

“We are out of time. I will defeat the Archdemon. Once Elgar’nan is mortal, the final blow…” Solas said as he extended his dagger towards Rook. “…must be yours.”

The possibilities of his trickery and lies spun through her thoughts, leaving her unable to craft a logical rebuttal.

“I can think of no one better to wield this.” He continued with his arm outstretched.

“You need that dagger for your ritual. I’m supposed to believe you would just give it to me?” Rook snapped, unable to come up with any other explanation.

“If you do not trust me to uphold my oath, that is all the more reason for the dagger to be out of my hands.”

Time expanded endlessly before her, nearly coming to a standstill. Thoughts of spells that would kill her, Fade magic to trap her if she would merely touch it came and went, yet his voice pulled her back.

“Please, Rook.”

Her jaw tightened as she seized the dagger, bewildered when nothing occurred.

“Good luck.” Solas said as he started to turn from her. “When next we meet, let us stand over Elgar’nan’s body.”

For the first time since meeting him, Solas turned into the Dread Wolf mid-step as he ran towards the Archdemon and snapped at his neck, pulling him away from the team.

Rook stood in place, dagger in hand, trying to wrap her mind around what just happened, trying to turn his words on every side to see any potential for trickery. His phrasing was a bit odd to say the least, but he did speak in a manner that was odd to begin with, so she put it out of her mind for now.

Bellara's rescue revealed more about Elgar'nan's plans, as she described how he manipulated her mind, making her desire to aid him even more horrifyingly and frustratingly.

It didn’t matter. They got her back and Rook felt her heart swell at the thought of at least one decision that wasn’t a failure, one of their own saved, if only for a while longer as they gathered together among the rest of their allies before they would strike Elgar’nan in his throne.

“No wait!” Bellara called as Rook turned to leave. “There’s something more I need to tell you.”

Bellara took a deep breath and started recounting her time away from them.

“When Elgar’nan was in my mind, I was kind of in his too. I could feel him. His mind, his magic, his… life force?”

With a scowl, Rook crossed her arms and stared pointedly at her. Bellara kept talking.

“It’s tied to the Veil. His life is the only thing holding the Veil in place.”

“I felt the Veil weaken when Ghilan’nain fell. I expect that when Solas imprisoned the other gods, he bound them all thus.” Morrigan spoke as she walked towards them, with the Inquisitor beside her. “And now that Elgar’nan is the only one left…”

“If we kill him, the Veil collapses.” Bellara went on.

“Which is why Solas gave me the dagger.” Rook finished. She pulled the dagger from her side and placed it on the table. She was surprised that anger was not the emotion that filled her. But relief. It was a relief to find the mistake and know she'd caught it before anyone else had to deal with the consequences.

“We still need to kill Elgar’nan. So what can we do?” Rook asked. “Can we tie the Veil to something else  to keep it in place?”

“For an enchantment like that, we’ll need a specific substitute. The Veil was made to be tied to the ancient elven gods.”

“Then let’s tie it to Solas. He’s the only elven god left.” Rook said smugly.

“Binding him will require drawing his blood with the lyrium dagger.” Emmrich said.

“And I doubt he’s going to like that idea.” Lucanis continued.

There were surprisingly many options. The ground began to shake and between tricking him with a fake lyrium dagger that would render him useless after the backlash of such magic, to reasoning with him with Mythal’s essence or try to appeal to him with Mythal’s memories hosted in Morrigan, they had enough options to decide what to do later.

With one more round of plans and goodbyes said and done, Emmrich’s words lingered in her mind as she walked outside and the cold air of Minrathous. How I wish we were already safely home together. I love you, my darling Rook.

Home. I love you. She had been terrified by those words for a long time. They gave her a lot of hope now. She longed to tell her younger self that life didn't have to be so tumultuous. That eventually she would find a place she could call home. That she would find someone who would reciprocate her love without reservation.

But that could wait.

With Elgar’nan’s troops bearing down, Rook embraced the mantle of leadership, preparing for battle.

As they climbed the blighted tendril, they encountered wave after wave of horrors. A darkspawn lieutenant was lurking in one corner, and a spell-crazed Tevinter magister in another. However, undeterred by these challenges, they continued pressing on. Deep down, they knew that Solas was above, engaged in his own battle to kill the Archdemon. Their fates were entwined, after all.

Emmrich and Harding broke the tension as they entered the antechamber, their voices echoing off the cracked marble of the throne room, and Rook welcomed the distraction.

“Hey Emmrich? If I die, will you raise me from death so I can have my revenge?”

“Garding that would require…” Emmrich came to a sudden halt. “But with the powers of a lich…”

“Wait, can you actually do it?”

“Possibly.” Emmrich said, his voice tinged with thoughtfulness. “Never without permission from your mother, of course.”

Despite the terror of what lay ahead, Rook couldn’t stop the small grin that tugged at her lips, remembering how much Emmrich used to be bothered by the conversations, making the sight of them getting along a small victory.

The throne room was still far above them, but they could already feel the suffocating presence of Elgar’nan’s power radiating downward. Tendrils of corrupted Fade energy lashed out from the walls and floor, forcing the Veilguard into a deadly dance of defense and offense. Rook swung her blade in precise arcs, severing tendrils and cutting through darkspawn with the efficiency of someone who had faced death more times than she could count.

Ahead of them, a massive rift opened, spilling more of Elgar’nan’s minions into the fray. Solas’s magic flared somewhere in the distance, a surge of wolf-like energy striking through the air. But even from where they stood, Rook could feel his struggle—the Archdemon’s roar split the air, a challenge that shook the very ground beneath them.

It was Bellara who stopped, her breath ragged but her eyes fierce. “He’s not going to make it alone.”

Rook knew what she meant, but she couldn't help but hesitate, her mind racing with the implications. “Bellara...”

“I’m the only one who can stabilize his spells long enough for him to strike,” Bellara shot back, her voice steady despite the chaos. “This is what I’m here for, Rook. You trusted me before. Trust me now.”

Rook’s heart twisted, but she nodded, clapping a hand on Bellara’s shoulder. “Go. And come back to us. That’s an order.”

With a quick, resolute nod, Bellara darted up the staircase toward Solas, her form disappearing into the shadows. Rook turned back to the fight, her blade cutting a path toward the throne.

The throne room was a cathedral of decay. Tendrils of Blight pulsed across the floor and walls, coiling protectively around the massive figure of Elgar’nan, seated on a throne. His once-glorious form was a mockery of divine power, twisted by his dominion over the Blight. His voice was like thunder, filling the room with a chilling resonance.

“I would have restored the glory your lives are too brief to remember.”

Rook stepped forward, her companions fanned out behind her, ready to strike. “I saw D’Meta’s Crossing and Weisshaupt, and everywhere you left your mark and I didn’t see any glory. All I saw was a tyrant destroying everything he touches.”

Elgar’nan rose, his tendrils snapping around him like whips, the air growing heavy with his fury. “We only destroyed because you resisted.”

The fight erupted, and Rook felt a surge of fear as she realized Elgar’nan's raw power dwarfed Ghilan’nain's, the doubts gnawing at her confidence. The clang of swords and the guttural roar of the enemy were lost to Rook as Elgar’nan’s voice pierced her mind, pulling her into a nightmare of doubts, each one a venomous whisper in the darkness. She saw the faces of those she had failed and heard the whispers of her enemies. “You’ve killed for power. You’ve sacrificed for nothing,” he sneered. “You think your choices matter?”

For the first time, Rook didn’t flinch. “Yes,” she growled, driving her blade into the darkness surrounding her. “Because every choice brought us here. Every sacrifice gave us this chance.”

“You failed to save at Wardens at Weisshaupt. You fled in terror at Arlathan.”

“And then we killed Ghilan’nain.” Rook countered.

“You have nothing. No army. No dragons. No thralls.”

“I’ve got a team. And that’s all I need.”

“I have bound the souls of dragons. I have slain Titans and broken the will of gods!”

“You haven’t broken me.”

Nevertheless, Elgar’nan was a god. His power surged, and in a moment of blinding force, he pinned her to the ground, the earth trembling beneath her as his raw energy crackled around them. His darkness was a palpable presence, coiling around her arms, squeezing the air from her lungs, while his burning eyes seemed to pierce through her very soul.

"Die with the rest of them," he spat, his words laced with venom.

Before he could strike, the room fell silent, the air thick with anticipation. Bellara, bloodied and radiant with the Blight’s energy, stood at the base of the throne. As she sat down, her voice, resonating with immense power, seemed to reverberate through the tendrils that encircled her. “Elgar’nan!” she roared, the sound of her voice vibrating in the air. “Release them.”

“I gave you this power, child.”

“You are not my god.” Bellara's voice, like a thunderclap, filled the space with its raw power.

With a single, terrible motion, Bellara thrust her hand towards him, the Blight bending to her will. The tendrils recoiled, their power redirected towards stopping Elgar’nan as Solas struck the final blow against the Archdemon in the distance. The god faltered, his form flickering as the throne and blight themselves seemed to rebel against him.

“Bellara, no!” Rook screamed, struggling to rise, but Bellara only looked at her with a faint smile before the tendrils wrapped around her form and she was nowhere to be seen.

But she didn’t have time to run to her–with Elgar’nan vulnerable, Rook and her companions ran towards him, striking with their blades, magic, and Solas’s dagger, cutting through the last of his defenses. As the corrupted god fell, his form collapsing and exploding into ash and red light, the Veil crashed down, sending shockwaves that threw them all to the ground in an explosion. Solas appeared in Rook's peripheral vision in the distance, his face etched with sadness, and Rook could almost hear the weight of his sorrow in the silence.

He stepped forward, his hand reaching for the dagger. “I am sorry,” he said, his voice carrying in the distance. “This is the final betrayal.”

But Rook grabbed the dagger just before his magic could pull it to him. Her hand closed around the dagger first, and she met his gaze.

“Please Rook. I do not wish to fight against you.”

Her thoughts were in a whirlwind as she tried to figure out the best course of action. To pull out the fake dagger and try to trick the elven god of lies or try to appeal to his soul, his nature.

“I don’t want to fight you either,” she said, her voice steady as she stood up. “But I don’t want to see the world go through more pain on top of what Elgar’nan has done. Do you?”

“This world is broken, Rook. Because of my mistakes.”

“You’re right. You do need to make up for the damage you’ve done… But breaking the world again is the wrong way to do it.”

“Letting the Veil collapse–”

“Is what you want.” Rook chimed in. “But making amends isn’t about what you want.” Her thoughts drifted back to Davrin and Varric as she spoke. “You have a chance right now to save the world. Bind yourself to the Veil and stop it from falling.”

Rook paused, the dagger trembling slightly in her hand, as the internal battle raged within her over the right course of action. Believing in him. Trusting the god of lies. With a slow, measured movement, she extended the dagger to him, the glint of its lyrium blade catching her eye.

Solas, his back to her and a dagger clutched in his hand, walked towards the Veil tear, his footsteps silent on the stone.

“I cannot.” Solas's voice was calm as he spoke. “To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far.”

“Even if those you’ve wronged asked you to stop?” A voice from behind her asked. Rook turned to find the Inquisitor walking towards them.

“Vhenan…” There was a sense of anguish in Solas's voice as he spoke.

The conversation dragged on and on, and even though Morrigan tried to convince him, alongside the Inquisitor, Solas remained unconvinced. Finally, even Mythal's form appeared, acknowledging the wrongdoing they brought on the world together, and it was only then, with all of their voices united, that Solas finally broke down.

He hesitated, a cold dread gnawing at Rook before his hand plunged down, the sharp blade tearing through flesh. The blood flowed freely, staining the air with a coppery scent as it bound him to the Veil.

“I will go and seek atonement.” Concluding his thoughts, he handed the dagger to Rook.

Rook had no idea what had been said between the Inquisitor and Solas before they left, but whatever it was, it had filled them both with such emotions that they clung to each other as they approached the tear. The Veil, slowly solidifying, sealed the wounds in reality, leaving their forms glowing faintly in its wake.

The aftermath was a blur of relief and exhaustion. Bellara was freed from the tendrils, alive but barely conscious, and the Veilguard stood together as the factions of Thedas praised their victory. The city, though broken, was saved, and for the first time in days, the sky began to clear.

Rook leaned back against a crumbled pillar, her armor streaked with dirt and blood, the weight of the battle finally catching up to her. For once, she allowed herself to exhale, the world quiet around her, but she recognized Emmrich’s steps behind her.

“You know, my love, there’s one thing left on the list.”

She raised an eyebrow, too tired to feign interest. “What now? Rebuild Minrathous brick by brick? Fight another god? Hezenkoss?”

Emmrich shook his head with an exaggerated sigh. “No. Rest. I won’t tell you how many injuries I’ve noticed besides your left wrist this time. But I’d like to think, perhaps, you’ll listen for once.”

She smirked, folding her arms across her chest, remembering that moment when he pointed out her left wrist strain at their dinner in the gardens. And what followed after. Her smile deepened just a little as she shook her head. “Fine. Just this once.”

He straightened, brushing invisible dust from his sleeve as if satisfied. “Ah, music to my ears. I expected you would fight me on this, that you might plan to stay and rebuild Minrathous and help the Shadow Dragons.” 

“I think everyone would understand if I took a few days off.”

The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, but her gaze lingered on the horizon. The storm had passed, and the world was saved for now. Behind her, the Veilguard tended to the wounded, and factions once divided shared words of gratitude and relief. They had done what many thought impossible. And yet, standing here, Rook didn’t feel the crushing weight she expected. Instead, there was something lighter, something whole.

As the sun rose higher, gilding the ruins in light, she allowed herself to lean into the silence beside Emmrich. For the first time in a long while, there was no plan to make, no burden to carry—only the faint, steady rhythm of the world beginning again.

The end.

[sweaterregrets]

V IS FOR VICTORY

[moonlight-1108]

Es interesante ver la cantidad de Headcanons que tienen en cuanto a la vista de Warden…y me encantan!

It's interesting to see how many Headcanons they have regarding Warden's vision…and I love them!

i heard from m,y friend that someone headcanon Warden as colorblind or smth, the glasses he wears are to help him see normal colors

[generalb]

Current Selesnya Tokens set up

Commander: Katilda, Dawnhart Prime

8 forest

10 plains

Blossoming sands

Sejiri steppe

Minas tirith

Boulderloft pathway

Botanical plaza

Graypelt refuge

Canopy vista

Mosswort bridge

Selesnya sanctuary

Razorverge thicket

Path of ancestry

Mirrorpool

Champion of lambholt

Coppercoat vanguard

Thalia’s lieutenant

Jasmine boreal of the seven

Mentor of the meek

Prava of the steel legion

Kyler, sigardian emissary

Keeper of the accord

Wilt-leaf liege

Bess, soul nourisher

Rosie cotton of south lane

Hamza, guardian of arashin

Leinore, autumn sovereign

Mangara, the diplomat

Mikaeus, the lunarch

Torens, fist of the angels

Abzan falconer

Hamlet vanguard

Thraben doomsayer

Serra’s emissary

Lossarnach captain

King Darien XLVIII

Queen allenal of ruadach

Ojer taq, deepest foundation

Soul warden

Shalai voice of plenty

Burnished hart

Sakura-tribe elder

Hanweir militia captain

Avacyn’s pilgrim

Devout chaplain

Arcane signet

Defense of the heart

Horn of gondor

Marble diamond

Loran’s escape

Soul snare

March of the multitudes

Laid to rest

Paladin class

Season of growth

Leyline of abundance

Doubling season

Sol ring

Wilt

Environmental sciences

Traveler’s amulet

Sundering growth

Cosmic rebirth

Farseek

Selesnya cluestone

Season of renewal

Tamiyo’s safekeeping

Animist’s might

Master chef

Swiftfoot boots

Make a stand

Wrath of god

Worldly tutor

Garruk’s uprising

Hardened scales

Enlightened tutor

Harrow

Planar disruption

Cathar’s call

Halo fountain

Glorious anthem

Marshal’s anthem

Together forever

[forbiddenwestern]

Miriam Vista Points: Scalding Spear

“Congratulations. You've reached the Southwestern Solar stop of our Vista Point Tour, brought to you by Miriam Technologies and the Coalition for Environmental Reclamation.

With innovation comes challenge, and for all our good intentions, we can sometimes cause harm without meaning to. Solar facilities like this one have helped combat climate change by generating clean energy, but their boilers have proved dangerous to birds, insects and bats. That's why Miriam Technologies' Warden drones are designed to monitor local wildlife, from the largest avians to the tiniest grubs, tracking any change in population. That way, we can help ensure that good intentions always produce good results.”

[desbravandookp]

Lista de Avatares no KaizokuProject

Total de avatares: 175

A

Ain

Alvida

Aokiji (Kuzan)

Aramaki

Arlong

Avalo Pizarro

B

Baby 5

Baccarat

Bartolomeo

Basil Hawkins

Bastille

Bellamy

Benn Beckman

Bepo

Blueno

Borsalino Kizaru

Boa Hancock

Bon Clay

Brook

Buggy

Buffalo

C

Caesar Clown

Calgara

Capone Bege

Carrot

Caribou

Cavendish

Charlotte Chiffon

Charlotte Cracker

Charlotte Daifuku

Charlotte Katakuri

Charlotte Linlin (Big Mom)

Charlotte Oven

Charlotte Perospero

Charlotte Praline

Charlotte Pudding

Charlotte Smoothie

Charlotte Snack

Coby

Crocodile

D

Dellinger

Denjiro (Kyoshiro)

Diamante

Doc Q

Don Krieg

Don Chinjao

Donquixote Rosinante (Corazon)

Donquixote Doflamingo

Douglas Bullet

Dracule Mihawk

E

Edward Newgate (Barba Branca)

Enel

Eustass D. Kid

F

Fisher Tiger

Franky

Fujitora

Fukuro

Fullbody

G

Gecko Moria

Gild Tesoro

Gladius

Gol D. Roger

H

Hachi

Hina

Hody Jones

I

Inazuma

Inuarashi

Ivankov

Izo

J

Jack

Jabra

Jesus Burgess

Jewelry Bonney

Jinbe

Jozu

K

Kaidou

Kalifa

Kaku

Killer

Kanjuro

Karu

Keimi

Koala

Kuma

Kumadori

Kin'emon

Kozuki Toki

Kozuki Oden

Kozuki Hiyori

Kyros

L

Laboon

Laffitte

Lao G

Leo

Lindbergh

Lucky Roo

Lucy (adm meteu essa)

M

Magellan

Marco

Marshall D. Teach (Barba Negra)

Miss Valentine

Momonga

Momonosuke

Monet

Monkey D. Dragon

Monkey D. Garp

Monkey D. Luffy

Montblanc Norland

N

Nami

Nekomamushi

Nico Robin

Nojiko

P

Pandaman

Pica

Pedro

Pekoms

Perona

Portgas D. Ace

O

Oars Jr.

O-Tama

Q

Queen

R

Raizou

Rebecca

Rorona Zoro

Rob Lucci

Ryuma

S

Sabo

Sadie

Sakazuki Akainu

San Juan Wolf

Scratchmen Apoo

Sengoku

Señior Pink

Sentomaru

Shakuyaku

Shanks

Shiki

Shiliew

Shirahoshi

Silvers Rayleigh

Smoker

Sobamask (adm meteu essa)

Sogeking (sim, adm também meteu essa)

Spandam

Squard

Stussy

Sugar

Surume

T

Tashigi

Thatch

Tony Tony Chopper

Trafalgar D. Law

U

Ulti

Urouge

Usopp

Uta

V

Van Augur

Vasco Shot

Vergo

Vista

Vivi

Vinsmoke Ichiji

Vinsmoke Judge

Vinsmoke Niji

Vinsmoke Reiju

Vinsmoke Sanji

Vinsmoke Sora

Vinsmoke Yonji

W

Warden Hannyabal

Whitey Bay

X

X Drake

Y

Yamato

Z

Zeff

Zephyr (Almirante Z)

[dappervolk]

NOVEMBER’S MONTHLY SHOP: THE SOLAR WARDEN

A long and arduous journey through vast empty, plains of sand reveals a startling vista. A mirage-like oasis, nestled within the heart of a region blessed by the sun.

Hello everyone! The Solar Warden has arrived at our November 2021 Limited Monthly Shops! 

♦ Read our November Update ♦