#knight-captain

[voiddoodles]

I wanna call you on the telephone I made a thousand people love me, now I'm all alone And my resolve is sinking like a stone What would I even say? I guess it's something that just never goes away x ref

Everybody having a normal one after Act III start, right

[felrend]

Our poor Knight-Captain needs some R&R

And so glad he got a better barber once he joined the Inquisition

[thejaguar9art]

Final chibi that I’m going off of request :) From here on out, I’ll have to plan a new list on which I’ll draw! C&C welcome as always...!

[bishops-kalach-cha]

Daeghun Headcanon

Okay so I feel like Daeghun doesn’t get enough love, which is a shame because I feel like he’s such a complex character. Sadly there’s not enough of him in the game.

But, I feel like the way Daeghun feels about his shard (that he hid) ,is very similar to the way he feels about the KC. “I didn’t want to keep it close. But I couldn’t bear to cast it away.”

Daeghun is very distant to the KC, both emotionally and physically (he is often away on hunting trips),that much is clear.

I tend to headcanon that Daeghun often leaves the KC alone because it’s hard for him to be around them. They’re too much of a bitter reminder of death.

But at the same time, he keeps them in West Harbor ( before the events of the game) because sub-consciously he doesn’t want them leave him. They’re one of his only reminders of his late friend, and wife. He doesn’t realise this,obviously. He’s unconsciously selfish.

I could honestly talk about Daeghun for hours. And this post was abit too short and rambly for me to get everything out at once. Ill post a super in-detail post about Daeghun another time.

[voiddoodles]

Kalach-cha, Knight-Captain, Spirit-Eater

babygirl there's something so deeply wrong with you

quick doodle as i get used to Krita

[clanironfististhebest]

A quiet drink

@drakcomancer

A little gift for you buddy. I hope you feel better soon.

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

Khelgar stands at the doorway of the Knight-Captain’s chambers, each hand grasping a mug of ale. He pauses, looking at his friend lying in their bed. They had been this way for a long time.

Days or weeks? It didn’t matter. It seemed like nothing could rouse them from their stupor.

Tired. Spent. Exhausted.

All accurate words for describing his leader.

Some in the Keep had chosen to hide the Knight-Captain’s condition while trying to maintain the illusion of continuous leadership. Others had left the Keep, convinced their leader’s malaise would never abate. Still others had fallen into despair, losing hope of surviving the Shadow War without their leader.

Khelgar ignored them all. He did not know what the Knight-Captain was experiencing, but he didn’t care. 

His leader would return to themself in time.

Khelgar did not hope. He knew. Just as when he knew that he would strike true upon swinging his ancestral weapon at an attacking zombie or he knew that Duncan would loudly exclaim his frustration when the dwarf would consume an entire barrel of ale, he knew the Knight-Captain would recover in time.

Courageous. Intelligent. Persistent.

Also accurate words to describe his leader. His friend.

The Shadow War would be long. There would be many battles with frequent losses and tragedy. But there would also be victory and triumph.

And Khelgar knew the Knight-Captain would recover and lead them to victory.

Khelgar takes a deep breath and walks into the room. He places the second mug beside the bed and take a seat nearby.

“Take as long as ye need. We’ll still be here when yer ready.”

He takes a drink from his mug and looks out the window upon the Keep’s courtyard.

The silence stretches out from the afternoon into the late evening, but Khelgar stays by his friend’s side. He has the time. He has all the time in the world.

[alacritae-blog]

DIAMOND FOR THE SLOW DANCE

♦ | slow dancing

     no good at dancing. 

     yeah, right.

     after the winter palace, it only made sense to      practice. after all, arivis had needed to dance      across the floor with someone she didn’t particularly      like. it only made sense that not only should she      get a dance there with cullen, but another after.      and maybe again.

     hands in hands, fingers laced together, forehead      to his shoulder — he danced well enough. it was      no swinging, gliding thing, but rather… slow. calm,      and dancing in time with each beat of her heart was      simple. who was leading, she couldn’t tell — it didn’t      really matter, as they were simply stepping, swaying. 

     a press of lips to his jaw, brief and slight; meant to      encourage, where words were unneeded, and when      his hands released hers and slid instead to her waist,      she smiled with her face hidden against his neck,      hands on his shoulders.

     another step.

          another gentle tug in the other direction.

               a little laughter to accent it all.

     more practice would do them both well.

[alacritae-blog]

dear inquisitor: i like the view

{ dear commander: who says it’s just a view }

     it isn’t as if she forgot to lock the door.      or even as if she’s already… expecting      company. because she isn’t, and that      could be the entire issue. it is what it is —      and it is that she’s unused to people      having to barge in unannounced with      time-sensitive information, so maybe her      door was already open enough to accidentally      invite someone in. 

     she’s already frozen with her clothes held up to      her form in a classic pose of oh okay this is a      situation we’re in now when her eyes meet the      commander’s, and she thinks she’s doing a terribly      good job of covering everything that needs to be      covered, considering, but only so much can be done      to halt the ensuing other situation, which is —

     "oh dear," she says, because there is very little doubt      they’re both coloring an impressive shade of something-     comparable-to-roses, and when it feels like time actually      starts moving again and she’s mostly sure that cullen’s      eyes are on the ceiling, she has to bite her lip to keep      in the hysterical laughter threatening to bubble out.