#inkshackled

[chantcftrials]

@inkshackled  ❤’d for a short starter

“Wait... you mean this Alexius was your master back in Tevinter? And you intend to confront him? You cannot be serious.”

[dreadwxlf]

@inkshackled​ liked for Dread Wolf starter

 ~    Kyra no doubt wondered why he had asked to speak to her privately in her quarters. Simply put - he was going to tell her the truth about him. He deeply respected her, and had a feeling his cause would be something she would wish to join. Still, he was nervous - Kyra was Dalish and when she found out he was the great adversary of her religion...would she still trust him? Or would superstition blind her sense? Before he could worry over it more, the Kyra entered the room. ~

 ~    “ Thank you for meeting me, ” he said with a polite nod of his head. “ I apologize for the secrecy, but I wished to discuss more...delicate manners; I did not want to risk anyone listening in. ” He pulled out a seat at Kyra’s desk, gesturing for her to sit - Solas remained standing. “ I trust you Kyra - you have proved yourself to be a steadfast friend and a woman of strong spirit. Which is why you deserve the truth. ” His eyes traveled to the marks of Mythal on her face - perhaps that would be a good place to start. “ The first thing I wish to tell you...your vallaslin...I am afraid they do not hold the meaning the Dalish have taught you. ” His expression softened a bit. “ Lethallan...the vallaslin are slave markings. In the days of Arlathan, they were used by nobles to brand slaves in honor of the gods they worshiped. In time, the Dalish forgot... ”. ~ 

[dreadwxlf]

✭

~FOR EVERY PERSON THAT SENDS ME ✭ I WILL GIVE YOU A RANDOM HEADCANON ABOUT MY MUSE~

~{Solas wants children, but doesn’t believe he will ever have the chance to; he has pushed that desire deep down and doesn’t like to think about it.}~

[dreadwxlf]

❝ you were never even wrong in the first place, right? ❞

  ~   “ I’m not sure anymore, ” he answered quietly. “ Perhaps erecting the Veil was not the answer -- perhaps I should have sought another solution. But what is done is done; now the burden of restoring the People lies with me. ” ~

[rothalion]

@inkshackled​ | Starter

  What was it that was so odd this time around? Rothalion had traveled back and forth between worlds on numerous occasions, it was practically second nature to him. With that belief, the elezen had attempted to cross the barrier with little sleep to speak of; all he wanted was his own bed. He missed his friends after so long away, and even if he had only been doing the same brief errands and knew numerous folk from the First it just wasn’t the same.

  Exhaustion tugged his body down as he cast the spell, a teleportation spell he had used to cross land numerous times to save on time during solo trips. The spell was memorized, even the co-ordinates of home he’d focus on each time to avoid being tossed somewhere unexpected - yet this time the numbers were shrouded in fog and he found himself struggling to recall them. Eyes flick open as a panic washes over him, but at that point the spell was already cast and with a blink of purple he was gone.

  Everything else is a blur, the sensation of falling causing his heart to leap into his throat. For a moment it felt as though he’d be falling forever, that a mishap would be his demise in the end. How sad.

  Then he hit the ground. He fell flat on the ground, only saving his face from bruises and likely a broken nose by catching himself on his hands. With a wince, Rothalion collapsed and rolled over onto his side, a small groan rumbling in his chest. Sunlight beat down on him despite the night he had just come from; it shouldn’t be so bright at home. With much effort, his eyes cracked open a sliver before flying open wide. The elezen sat up abruptly, wincing at shooting pain from the movement. The spell had rendered him weaker than he had been when he had left, something he had hoped would be easily rested off with a nap once he got home.

  He sat on a cobblestone road, perhaps an alleyway? At least nobody beyond had seen him blink into existence - or at least he assumed as he forced himself to stand and looked out. The men and women he watched walk by were so similar to those of his home and yet also so different. He took a deep breath in an attempt to settle the panic spreading from the center of his chest.

  “W-where...?” He uttered the words entirely himself, oblivious to whether or not someone stood out of his field of vision.

[bushelofmuses]

Drag my muse from a fight

@inkshackled​ asked: interception - ameridan or myrna c:

Ameridan kept a hand on his arm, trying to heal the injury enough to stop the bleeding while hiding behind cover. He hissed from the pain and itching of flesh mending itself. He had to draw from the Focus beneath his armor just to get his magic to fucking work.

Maker, he's grown complacent again. Too lost in forgetting that yes, he was not invincible.

A hand grabbed his shoulder, startling him enough that he readied a spike of ice. It fell to the ground and shattered uselessly when he saw who was reaching for him. Pulling and tugging, an arm and shoulder under his, and then they were off. The least he could do was try to maintain a barrier to shield them from stray arrows or spells.

"You have my thanks," he murmured once he and Kyra were a safer distance away from the battle. Now he could focus on fixing the damn gash on his arm without explosives or glinting metal bearing down on him. "Are you unharmed?"

[rothalion]

@inkshackled​ said:       ✨

| Send a ✨ if you want to RP with me but don’t know how to approach me. |

//I’d love to write with you! Its been a while, welcome back. ^^ Feel free to DM me, after my muse change we’ll have to discuss some plotting I think, but Ro is always just as happy to make new friends as my last muse <3

[bushelofmuses]

Yearning and Devotion Starters

@inkshackled asked:  ❝ Someone will remember us, even in another time. ❞ - Myrna

She had to scoff at that. “They tried to erase Shartan’s identity as an elf by cutting him from their Canticles, calling his existence in the Chantry’s history as heretical, and then docking his ears from statues and mosaics...that’s only with those they didn’t destroy. And they successfully erased Ameridan’s identity. What makes you think they’ll remember either of us as we are?”

“We’ll barely be a footnote in a few hundred years, and certainly not as elves. We’ll be remembered by Dalish as hopeful myths while the Chantry proclaims that we were mere humans blessed by Andraste herself as propaganda to continue their veiled disgust for us. Seen never heard, is how they seem to like it...” Myrna had to take a slow breath to calm down. She tried desperately to remain positive, to not grow bitter and contemptuous of others for all of this; it was not the fault of the many, but that didn’t make it any easier.