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&& HAWKE.

he’s skulking in the corner of the hanged man, not furtively but not peacefully either. his fingers curl against each other, nails clashing, and they tug at the ends of fraying silks. it takes a conscious thought to settle himself so that he seems calm again, but the chair he rests in creaks as if in ancient mockery, and he frowns. there’s a brawl brewing - any fool could see this. ( what he cannot see is a path to the exit that will not take him by any potential troublemakers ). in the end, he takes the only option available to him - he remains exactly where he is. and a spark - just a spark ( and guilt gnaws at his heart too, lends a weight to his words because there was a time that spark would have been a fire, but what is he meant to give, now? ) - of compassion prompts him to speak to the lonesome stranger nearby who looks as worn as himself.

❝ - the folly of shemlens; they’ll fight for nothing at all. ❞

if he speaks in riddle, well.

#fxreball #;; stares at u loudly. :///

jamsoftheday

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wordsnquotes

“Forgiveness has its comforts, but it can never give you back what you’ve lost.”

Jonathan Tropper, One Last Thing Before I Go (via wordsnquotes)

resistforever95-deactivated2022

anakhronizein-blog

nettle by escume.

SHEMLEN. ❞

❛ this ain’t your camp. ❜

❝ - is it yours? ❞

#;; nerd.#aintashes

&& music update.

#;; like 2 days later thanks kiwi6

ayytozed

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like this post for a short starter in the dragon age world.

#*mutuals only.#;; still gotta do most of these but.

builds off of the main verse.

embittered by his awakening - when he expected to sleep forever or die in peace - Halla’vhenan, at first, secludes himself. within days he is set upon by bandits, and in the defense of himself, kills them - an event that vibrantly colors every single moment that comes afterwards. it’s easier still to steal his resolve to kill when he comes across a besieged dalish clan. though he thinks of them as little more than ruins of a once great nation, he defends them - and finds himself pitted against the nearby towns. and once the breach ruptures the sky, it’s easy to come to a final conclusion: that the shemlens are the true blight. he knows full well he is only one man, with quickening blood that conspires against him, but Halla’vhenan will take as many mortal men and women with him as he possibly can to his grave with him. he becomes, in essence, a vengeful ghost, haunting the forests and the hills, striking at supply lines and caravans, strategic in his ruination of the shemlens. he’ll not see the end of them, he’s aware, but all he wants is vengeance.

builds off of the main verse.

having made himself a fairly permanent home with a dalish clan, Halla’vhenan finds himself as part of the group sent to observe the conclave. he goes willingly - by embedding himself within the clan, he feels not only obligated to participate in their plans but also to protect them. consequentially, he is the unfortunate soul that picks up the orb and finds himself branded; Halla’vhenan bears the mark, and the power to close the rifts in the fade. he exists within a fugue state for a few days, complying easily with the demands placed on him, and making efforts to bolster the inquisition with a deeply solemn intensity. withdrawn and unresponsive to most attempts at communication, though, he often secludes himself. it’s Haven that shocks him awake again, and the resulting deaths. as Inquisitor at Skyhold, Halla’vhenan is floundering emotionally, bewildered and terrified. the overwhelming nature and implications of the mark and his new status both excites and ruins him. he is entirely unsure of how to react - he finds it hard to fathom the situation at all. but he’s more open to making connections now, more willing to make friends with others. Halla’vhenan still struggles with buried ideals and his past - a thing he keeps carefully hidden, presenting himself only as dalish - but he fights wholeheartedly for Thedas.

#*tbt.

during the height of his society, Halla’vhenan was near the pinnacle of nobility. he was no dreamer mage, but he was knowledgeable and famed for his dedication to soothing long-lasting disputes stretching across the centuries. it was a reputation well-earned. && being a guardian and scholar of the ancient city Arlathan, Vhenan is a true elf, as he regards the nature of his existence, at least, with the blood in his veins still thick, still heavy with the thousands of years he has lived, gilded with the loyalty he still carries to his vast history. he bears very little fondness for the dalish or the other mortal races - the time && society in which he lived has imbued him with a multitude of vices and deeply-rooted racism. in contrast to that, Halla’vhenan whole-heartedly cherishes peace. it was his livelihood before, and is the heart of the struggle he faces in the new world. but when the shemlens began to arrive in droves, Vhenan thought to take up his bow to protect, then - to hunt, to kill.

he thought to keep pure everything he'd loved, but could not bring himself to murder even those who ruined him with every breath he took when that high value he’d placed on harmony && nonviolence for so long still resonated in him. so it was himself he slew, slinking into uthenara. it was a cowards act, and this he knew well – but done with, he reasoned, a coward’s logic: he would not have to see the downfall of Elvhenan - and he could not fathom a future in which the shemlens could foster anything good.

he was woken not by man, but by a halla, millennia later, his resting place undisturbed: he’d made it himself, and it was known only to himself, and bore no markings to indicate its nature, and until shortly before he was woken, covered by a rockslide. he considers the way in which he was woken a condemnation from the gods for his inaction. so he wanders, lost in a time not his own, unwilling to take his own life, helpless, shackled to a newfound mortality as his own blood, like his brethren so long before him, begins to quicken. either another curse from the gods, or merely cruel chance. whatever the case may be, Vhenan has no purpose, and cannot find the drive to seek one out. he will wander until given one he finds meaningful, or until he dies a true death.

#*about.