#elvhen oc

[dragonagecinema]

Now recreating the Inquisitor in Dragon Age The Veilguard was quite a challenge 😫 This is the best I could do. How did you get on?

[kakattackart]

"Children of The All Mother, we welcome you into our light. Should your heart sing a hallowed song, we will bestow that which has transcended through our long journey…" -The Vir'harthasan, relayed to a supplicant during their coronation ritual

First in a set of artworks connected to an in process DA crossover Fanfic piece. This is how Uzerin appears during the first arc of The Forsaken Prince.

[w-e-r-e-wolves]

I have run Through the fields Of pain and sighs

I have fought To see the other side

I am the one Who can recount What we've lost

I am the one Who will live on

[faerieavalon]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged last week by @in-arlathan thank you!!

My big acting project wraps at the end of this week (shameless plug) so I have time to work on my rewrite. So as a treat, here’s the new opening to chapter 1.

In the Golden Age of the Elvhenan, the height of the Elven empire, the boundaries between the waking world and that of spirits was thin. Magic flowed easily and grew as naturally as trees reached for the sun. Beings of physical and ethereal form lived together and learned from each other in harmony. Ethereal buildings floated in the sky, suspended by will and magic. No knowledge was far from reach and artistic and academic pursuits led the People forward. So it was for ages beyond telling until the Great War shattered all semblance of peace, The gods darkened the skies, and the Betrayer erected the Veil, rending their world to pieces forever. 

Without their magic, the Elvhen people felt the touch of age for the first time. They were tormented by other races, driven from their lands, decimated by war, disease, and madness. Even the endless sleep and spiritual connection of Uthenera was denied to them. It had once been a refuge for elders when they tired of their physical forms. A place where they could travel the realm of spirit and dreams. The War had taken that, too. The Veil was stronger than any wall of stone and though many could still access a small amount of its magic, the rites of passage were lost to time. Only those who entered before its creation could fully wander. Those who tried after, only found silent sleep.

She saw this over and over when she passed through their dreams; stories and legends of how her people used to live, used to be. At first she tried to connect with them, teach them the truth, or at least pass down some of her knowledge. Some called her demon. Others attacked. So few listened. After years beyond counting, it hurt worse than it helped. It was easier to watch from afar. Easier to keep her distance.

Passing this on to @serial-chillr, @pedlimwen, @johaerys-writes, @mogwaei, @schoute, and anyone else who wants to share.

[kakattackart]

The Forsaken Prince - Ushien & Uzerin Lavellan "Who among us is worthy of any such power!? Are you truly prepared to forge this new era? Can you sit contentedly on your throne, watch as Alas'ala burns to ash, destroyed… forever?"

[kakattackart]

WIP - Ashkaari + Uzerin

[faerieavalon]

Vena Eolas: Journey of the Elvhen Spirit

Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition Rating: Mature Pairings:  Felassan/Elvhen OC, Solas & Elvhen OC Male Lavellan/Dorian,   Others To Be Added

Ch 2 

[Read it on AO3]

Trust between the clan and the Inquisition grew slowly and steadily, as things cared for with respect often do. The Inquisitor, or Mahanon as he kept insisting, started with closing the nearby tear in the Veil. A rift, he called it. That it had a name meant this wasn’t the first or only occurrence. As worrisome as that might be, the clan’s immediate safety came first. Once resolved and spare supplies shared among the clan, they didn’t linger and only asked permission to return as compensation. It was given; a test for both sides.

The Inquisitor visited often in the following weeks, bringing different companions each time. They stayed long enough to share news or goods but never lingered. Once Hawen was willing, he sent scouts in his stead. They brought gifts, but never frivolous tokens. They helped, always asking if there was a need first. The humans in their group were refreshingly respectful, at least while within the clan boundaries. The elves with them brought stories. They spoke highly of their city kin, surviving and thriving in places one might not expect. They brought tales from clans far away, how they were different and yet the same. It was how they learned the Inquisitor was First of his clan before a different path claimed him. Day by day, tensions eased. Happy greetings and laughter replaced stiff politeness and formality. 

She watched the young ones welcome the visitors first. They were fascinated with stories and the outside world, listening eagerly to every detail. The elders grumbled at their passionate interest but couldn’t deny the pursuit of knowledge. The world was changing whether they liked it or not. One in particular, Loranil, was always the first to seek out any sight of Inquisition uniforms. He was old enough to no longer need a mentor so he had more time to spend with the soldiers, even joining in their training from time to time.

The elders’ dark mood broke when the Inquisitor brought the clan items of importance. Most important was news of their missing members. Taven, Hawen’s First and most adept student, was located a week’s travel south. His company was safe and happily searching through ruins deep in the forests of the Emerald Graves. News of Valorin, Hawen’s second student, wasn’t so bright. The anger that drove him to leave the clan had poisoned his heart. Rather than work with others, he summoned a demon to do his bidding and it went terribly wrong. He couldn’t control it. His scorched body was found in an abandoned house near the human settlements. The Inquisitor brought him back and stayed through the following days to pay his respects at the funerary rites. Before he left, he gave Valorin’s sister Emalien an artifact long thought lost. It was the very artifact her brother gave his life to find. Though it did little to comfort her heart, it brought closure and the clan respected him for it. 

She kept herself apart from most of their interactions, content to watch and wait. All her experience with humans and dwarves had been distrustful at best and violent at worst. This group was different. They sparked her curiosity, chipping away at her initial distrust. Seeing how they worked together, regardless of origin, was fascinating.

Resolving to speak with them at their next visit, she busied herself with breaking down herbs for a new batch of poultices until she felt eyes at her back. Stretching her senses, she recognized the familiar, warm aura of her oldest friend. 

“You can talk with them, you know.” Hawen teased her lightly as he approached. “They aren’t nearly as terrible as I expected.”

“It helps that their leader is one of the People,” she agreed. “I cannot imagine one who was raised otherwise might see us in the same light.”

“True, though it seems his character is strong enough to carry that weight. One would hope that strength in any other person might look the same.”

“Have you made your decision then?”

[Read more on AO3]

[faerieavalon]

Last Line Meme

Tagged by @midnightprelude thank you !!

Rules: Post last written line, tag as many people as words (or however many you want, I'm not your boss).

I’ve written enough that I can play, yay! And I’ve been out of the circuit long enough that I’m not going to do word count here. But here’s my last line, from Sule Tael rewrite:

He clasped her hand in his, smiling until his soft green eyes sparkled. “You are with kin now, sister. We will keep you safe.”

Tagging forward to @serial-chillr, @johaerys-writes, @dalish-rogue, @pedlimwen, @in-arlathan, and anyone else who wants to share.