ѕυ¢н ι∂ℓє ƒαη¢ιєѕ ----

#█░ x-conversations-x: guarded as she is she cannot deny 'tis a pleasure to converse #█░ x-verse-x: a trusted advisor #theydontrememberme

{ M } -- She is perturbed by his uncanny ability to see what he should not see; know what he should not know. Nevertheless, she is also boundlessly curious about him; about any aspect of this world that she cannot immediately understand. Intrigue, more than anything else, keeps her from lashing out when he touches again on the one thing that is most important to her. That, and the fact that she can so easily think of him as achild. ‘Tis probably inadvisable for her to do so, and yet... power does not equate with maturity. His abilities are impressive. They are unique and even unsettling. Still, he feels young. There is no other way to say it. “ Cole,” she repeats. “ Kieran has done nothing wrong. He remains hidden for his own protection. There are... forces in this world that would harm him. He is my son. I would see him safe, at any cost. Do you understand? ”

idiedinthedark-blog

“I don’t think there is anything like me,” Cole says honestly. He stands loose and easy, hands deliberately away from the blades on his belt. “I came when I was needed, compassion called to a mistreated man. His form fit and followed me and I formed to fit it too…and finally found myself here.” He shrugged, as if to say and that is all there is.

“You have traveled far,” he says curiously. It’s not exactly a question and yet it’s clear he desires to know more. “You know things about the Fade, and spirits.”

#█░ x-conversations-x: guarded as she is she cannot deny 'tis a pleasure to converse #█░ x-verse-x: a trusted advisor #idiedinthedark

{ M } -- “ No indeed. To my knowledge and to the extensive knowledge of those working under the banner of the Inquisition, you are unique in this world. ” She knows not whether the boy is aware of the significance of that. He is more human than she ever would have expected, at least in appearance. In conduct. Yet there is unmistakably something off about him. ‘Tis both intriguing and unsettling. She is drawn to that which she does not understand; and yet, there is the danger that, should he turn that curiosity back on her, he will uncover things she would rather be left untouched. Her answer must therefore be guarded. “ ‘Tis true. I know more of your kind than most ever learn. I cannot profess to know more of the Fade than you, however, I am certain. " She can not, after all, call that place her home. Though she wonders how much of it he truly remembers. If what information she has gleaned is true, this spirit may not even understand its own nature; who can say whether it understands the nature of the Fade?

@crcwnedsacrifice

{ M } -- Oh, but she is a terror on the field of battle, fluid and fatal as a flowing river. The witch’s staff -- and even her magic itself as she pulls energy from the Fade like threading a needle -- it is all an extension of her body and her will. And she is unmatched in her resolve and her fury. Lightning, white-hot and crackling and tangible in the air, arcs from her staff and draws itself into the bodies of the Darkspawn around her. Shrieks, and the smell of burning flesh and hair, flood the air. The strength of her will manifested is a sight to behold: incomparable power, unstoppable force.

And yet, her companion fights with a vigor she cannot match. As the bodies fall around her, she turns to see Gareth fighting like a hurricane. There is a combination of grace and brutality that she has never seen before. Her casting is like a dance; it is carefully measured movements and flowing steps. She is a conduit for her power. Gareth is the source of his. His unwavering counter-assault on their enemies is a different dance entirely. It is telling that when he cuts down the final assailant, he is covered in inky blood. Darkspawn blood cloys like tar and stings like acid. It also flows through him, so she surmises that must be why he is not bothered overmuch by it dripping off his arms and down into the space between his skin and his armor. She eyes him from head to blood-splattered toe and huffs, finally letting out the breath she’s been holding. “ That was... most impressive. ” It may be the first complimentary thing that’s left her mouth since they set out from the Korcari Wilds together, his fellow Grey Warden in tow. It is also short-lived. There is a rustle of movement behind him, then the unmistakable, vibrato wail of a higher form of Darkspawn. Only Shrieks, lethal, lightning-quick, and invisible, make such a keening sound. On alert, Morrigan adopts a defensive stance, her staff thrust out before her. The glow in her eyes seems an unquenchable fire, but already she is losing the stamina to keep up this fight. She had not expected that there might be more Darkspawn lurking along the road, waiting in ambush. “ Of course, ‘twould be too easy otherwise. There are more of them yet! ”

#█░ x-conversations-x: guarded as she is she cannot deny 'tis a pleasure to converse #█░ x-verse-x: witch of the wilds #crcwnedsacrifice #{ this took a thousand years i am so sorry }#{ don't mind morrigan she's got like the teensiest crush it's all good }

ladynightingaleleliana-blog

By the Fire

The air here is frigid and sharp, and it gnaws with icy fangs at Leliana’s fingers and toes. She lets out a small sigh as she notes with sorrow the muddy stains on her pale leather shoes, only newly purchased, but now irreparably damaged. But the fire is warm, at the very least, she muses with a smile, as the embers dance their way into the evening air.

She notes with more than passing interest, the witch, slink in from her corner to join them by the fire. Even after months of traveling with Morrigan, she still finds the woman frightening and fascinating. She looks away hastily as the woman’s intense gaze meets her own curious one.

“I would have thought a witch of your abilities would have no trouble conjuring a simple flame, Morrigan.” Leliana smiles amiably at her, adding teasingly, “Or was it company you came in search of?”

#█░ x-conversations-x: guarded as she is she cannot deny 'tis a pleasure to converse #█░ x-verse-x: witch of the wilds #ladynightingaleleliana #{ this took forever I'm sorry!! }#{ cactus morrigan is a cactus }

{ M } -- There is a clear answer in the blush that alights on her cheeks, hardly swallowed by the orange glow of the fire. Morrigan tilts her head away quickly, coin-bright eyes hidden behind a sweep of ebony hair. The accusation brings a new stiffness to her shoulders, one for which the intense cold is not responsible. Pride damaged, she has little recourse but to retaliate. “ If I were seeking agreeable company, I should have remained among the trees. They are less inclined toward idle prattle. ” Bitterness pulled from her as poison from a wound, she relaxes a fraction, reserving her guilty glances for her hands. She dares not look at the priestess. They have traded little but barbs during their scant months of travel, and Morrigan has not a clue where to begin repairing their fragile relationship. Not that she has any truly compelling reason to do so, of course. And yet, it seems that the silence should hold something other than her poison, so she inhales deeply and begins again: “ Perhaps... ‘twas a bit quiet for my taste. I am... unused to the climes this far west. The creatures of the forest stay well away from this place, safe in their burrows. Even the insects are silent. ” ‘Tis always so in this climate, she supposes. She does not know from experience, though she would be the last to admit it. She is not used to hearing nothing from the forest. No scurrying rodents in the trees, nor soft pads of feet over fallen leaves, nor the chirping of insects in the bushes. It is almost eerie, the lack of these things where they should, by all rights, be louder than ever. But the cold drives away the things that are most familiar to her. They seek warmth east of the mountains.

rebelmentor-deactivated20160506

“Given proper incentive? Don’t tempt me.” A joke, evident by his cocked brow. Felassan fought down the urge to argue on his many millenias’ worth of experience compared to hers.

He blatantly ignored Morrigan’s latter question, as much as he’d love to entertain her endless curiosity. If there was one thing he didn’t want, it was to be framed in the same light as her mother… possessed by the All-Mother, as it were. Too ironic to be a coincidence, but it wasn’t the reason he kept the witch’s company.

The man sighed heavily, having prepared for bitter disappointment on her end. Without assigning meaning to the gesture any more than what it was on the surface, Felassan remained standing in the same spot and caught her hand before she’d wandered too far.

“I happen to keep my promises,” Felassan tutted. The wry smile he offered Morrigan in place of his trademark know-it-all smirk offered the smallest bit of reassurance, he’d hoped. “That is the truth. I don’t know what my birth mother named me. I don’t know where I was born, nor do I have any memories of my mother, nor my father. Names were a privilege as opposed to a right. More than anything, I was called ‘slave’. Ah, there it is. My name from birth was 'slave’.“

He wasn’t looking for sympathy or pity, not that he believed the human woman was equipped to give him such kindnesses. The bitterness of his words mismatched the lightheartedness of his expression and tone.

#█░ x-conversations-x: guarded as she is she cannot deny 'tis a pleasure to converse #█░ x-verse-x: the seeker of eluvians #rebelmentor #{ shows up late with 100000 starbucks }

Of course, she could not understand the slight shift in mood. Though she’d admonished him, it was in the same tone she adopted with any who formed a connection with her. Her sharp edges never faded in the face of familiarity -- if anything, they grew sharper. In making her frustration clear, she’d had no intention of offending him; the comparison she’d drawn seemed only a minor parallel to her, and reflected significantly neither on him nor her mother. ‘Twas merely something she was accustomed to: evasiveness and secrets. Speaking her mind about the matter had always been her privilege. For a moment, she thought he might have taken her more seriously than she’d meant for him to. And although Morrigan would never admit to it, she felt a pang of guilt at thinking she had possibly stepped too far. The contact of his hand on hers stopped her in her tracks, and she flushed gently, already preparing to skirt around an apology. For she was loathe to admit when she had erred, but she deferred to his wisdom on many things, and even a witch of the wilds could swallow her words on occasion. She did not know what to make of his genuine smile, but it did set her at ease. Returning it, her eyes softening, she curled her fingers just so around his. Her response to his explanation was neither pity nor sympathy, but rather a slow, cold anger on his behalf. Long had she wondered at his past, speculating on how he had come into the knowledge he possessed; the wisdom and confidence he carried like a second skin. Perhaps it said something about her, that she had never fathomed ‘twould be anything so terrible as the truth.

“ I did not know, ” she said, and ‘twas as close to an apology as had been wrung out of her in some time. Something reassuring should be said, she know. Morrigan had walked this forest with him long enough to say for certain he was so much more than any one word, particularly slave, could define. Yet comfort was not her strong suit, and she was certain anything she said would sound disingenuous, especially since he’d maintained his lighthearted smile throughout his tale. It was impossible to know what response would be appropriate for dredging up something that must have caused him pain, when she had no idea to what degree the old wounds still grieved him. Instead, she squeezed his hand once more, firmly, and released her grasp. It would be best to change subject again, and yet her curiosity pressed her, as always. “ Clearly you are no longer a slave. How is it that you were freed? ”

witchofthcwilds

Ellana sighed and shook her head. “I suppose we have no choice.” The young elf ran a hand through her dark strands as she thought on how to go about it without desecrating the shrine. “I trust you, Morrigan, I know you won’t go in there and mess anything up. So, lead the way.”

#█░ x-conversations-x: guarded as she is she cannot deny 'tis a pleasure to converse #█░ x-verse-x: a trusted advisor #heraldoflavellan #{ sorry this took forever hunnn }

{ M } -- “ A wise decision, Inquisitor. I have, after all, done nothing to betray your trust thus far. Had I wished to hoard the secrets of this place, I would not have asked that you accompany me in the first place. ” She lifts a hand, tracing the intricate runes that mark the door to the ancient temple. Though overgrown, the place is truly majestic -- the construction simply unlike anything that exists in modern Thedas. Otherworldly is the only suitable word for it, as though they lost themselves somewhere in the forest and stepped into another realm entirely. “ Nor if I thought ‘twould be dangerous, for that matter... ” With a click and a flash of soft, green light, a crack formed between the doors and grew as they began to swing open. Whatever wards had barred the place before had been banished by her touch.

onthesirenscall-blog

For a moment, Isabela was certain that she would lose her head, seeing the blazing fire in her eyes. But luckily (as she believed it did with all things) her flirting saved her once more. “Really? Was he one of those…tal-vashith or whatever they call them? The ones that left the qun?” She said Qun as if it was poison in her mouth. It was surreal to her, seeing all those that so willingly submit themselves to this cult. But those that defy it…those were the interesting ones.

She leaned in to listen to the stranger speak, regarding Dalish clans. Unfortunately she had the nasty habit after having one too many drinks to say what she was thinking out loud. “Dalish? That must be Kitten’s clan.” She smiled, fondly thinking about the innocent elf that she had befriended. “I think I’ve been there a couple of times.” Her eyes lit up at the mention of wanting a glass of ale. She yelled over Morrigan’s shoulder to the bartender, signaling that she wanted two more.

#█░ x-conversations-x: guarded as she is she cannot deny 'tis a pleasure to converse #█░ x-verse-x: the seeker of eluvians #onthesirenscall #{ casually takes forever }

{ M } -- The thought of Sten ever faltering in his devotion to the Qun draws out a sudden, quick bark of derisive laughter. It is bell-bright and clear, and she shakes her head gently, golden eyes peering just over Isabela’s shoulder. As though a shadow of a former friend might be found, lingering. “ Certainly not. He was, in fact, a soldier. A high-ranking member of the army devoted solely to the will of their Arishok. The Antaam, I believe? I can claim no expertise on the matter. ” She is close, too close perhaps, to revealing too much of the truth about herself. ‘Twould not do to expose her true purpose here, nor indeed her true identity, if there is even the slightest chance she may be recognized as a former companion of a fabled hero; a fearsome Witch of the Wilds. Her expression is carefully neutral when the Dalish are mentioned, the curiosity that flickers in her eyes luminous but fleeting as a flash of lightning. “ Truly? No Dalish I have ever encountered would be overly keen to allow human visitors anywhere near a camp. ” And this human, no less, who does not strike her as a scholar, nor as someone knowledgeable on the subject of elven culture or customs. Kitten, though in possession of an irksome pet name, must be the connection between these two disparate things: an ale-swilling pirate and the reclusive Dalish elves. Morrigan accepts the ale that comes her way, and loses the battle to keep a straight face when she tastes the bitter, watery substance. “ Blech. ‘Tis even less pleasant than I thought. ”

#█░ x-out of mana-x: the whispers of the well #{ I'M BACK FROM THE DEAD }#{ and my responses are all queued }#{ sorry in advance for taking a thousand years }#{ *frantic waving at new followers* }

By the Fire

@ladynightingaleleliana

{ M } -- The campfire is burning low when the witch slinks in from the shadows, no longer content to occupy the cold, isolated space so far from the main camp. As they move further toward the snowy western peaks, she is less and less inclined to put forth the effort to start her own personal, smaller fire, though it is relatively little trouble for a mage of her caliber to do so. If she were to be honest, she would admit to the slightest bit of jealousy, watching the others trade stories and share in the warmth in their little group of tents. Too proud to express this aloud, she waits until the fire has dwindled and most of their number have retired to their bedrolls, then wordlessly moves to sit on one of the logs surrounding the pit. She avoids eye contact with the others, but eventually she can feel the priestess’s gaze on her. She does not need to try hard to adopt an irritable look as she meets that gaze. “ What? Does my presence offend? Do none of the tales you enjoy telling mention that a fearsome Witch of the Wilds might also feel the cold? ”

#█░ x-conversations-x: guarded as she is she cannot deny 'tis a pleasure to converse #█░ x-verse-x: witch of the wilds #ladynightingaleleliana #{ she bitchy i'm so sorry lmao }

status: =/

hey guys, sorry for a recent lack of activity. I know I have about ten thousand starters I owe you and I’m excited for them, but I’ve also been super sad lately for reasons, and any positivity you could fling my way would be very much appreciated. It's hard today.

#█░ x-out of mana-x: the whispers of the well

sorrowedvigil

cremiisius-blog

path-of-sorrows:

Over my time here, I’ve seen lots of these posts float about in the ether. As a way to make a more cohesive fandom, I think it’s time to try to approach this and commit again. I will be making a sideblog with a comprehensive masterlist of all characters in Dragon Age roleplay. Anyone, of course, can participate. When I have made the blog, I will try to update entries as thoroughly as I can. Please be patient and realize sometimes in the time it takes me to do things, new stars have formed.

Reblog to be added.

( Do not like this post, please. It will simply be confusing! )

#█░ x-out of mana-x: the whispers of the well #█░ x-grimoire-x: queue is coming to the world

idiedinthedark-blog

He senses her disquiet, shakes his head. "You think I want to hurt him. But I don’t. I just want to understand.” He tilts his head at her; he can register a trace of the fear but not exactly its source. “It’s all right,” he adds gently.

#█░ x-conversations-x: guarded as she is she cannot deny 'tis a pleasure to converse #█░ x-verse-x: a trusted advisor #█░ x-verse-x: mother to a god #idiedinthedark

{ M } -- “ Kieran is... special. To me, and in many other ways. I cannot explain it better than that. ” Her posture is less rigid now, her gaze a fraction softer as she observes the spirit. It is reassuring that he cannot see through to the core of the matter, for whatever reason. She worries for Kieran’s safety, no matter what Cole’s nature. And yet, she does believe that this creature means no harm. “ And what of you, spirit? You are... unlike anything I have yet encountered in my travels. ”

witchofthcwilds

“Aw, crap. So, there is no way around it? We’re going to have to break into the Temple of June and recover his tradebook?” Ella was appalled by the idea. She innocently placed her hands on her cheeks and shook her head.

“We can’t do that, Morrigan! June is going to be mad and curse us!”

#█░ x-conversations-x: guarded as she is she cannot deny 'tis a pleasure to converse #█░ x-verse-x: a trusted advisor #heraldoflavellan #{ a wee bab }#{ morrigan has too much salt for this world }

{ M } -- “ Tch. ‘Tis no concern of mine whether I should offend some nonexistent god. I know the temple and the ancient rites to access the power there. If you do not wish to accompany me, then I shall go forth alone. But I would urge you not to waste this opportunity, Inquisitor. ”

to catch a crow

Zevran took a step back, releasing the servant and sheathing the drawn blade, but not before giving it the habitual twirl. The loose-fitting servant’s tunic hid it in its harness at his lower back. His gaze did not follow as the girl scurried away for her life, still fixed on the vision of Morrigan in a fine Orlesian gown.

“Shall we, then?” He bowed slightly, gesturing at the hall ahead. “We might move faster if you lead the way… escorted by your handsome servant.”

#█░ x-conversations-x: guarded as she is she cannot deny 'tis a pleasure to converse #█░ x-verse-x: a trusted advisor #sneakystabstab

{ M } -- He earned a slightly amused scoff from her, something akin to suspicion flitting over her features before she turned to begin walking. She knew where the good baron slept, and his quarters were not far. While not overly fond of the man, she knew him to be a close ally of the empress. She was willing to overlook his offhand comments about apostates and dangerous magic in light of that. While he could still be of use to Celene, he was valuable enough to be kept alive. It was all for the best, ‘twould seem. While Zevran was not truly a friend, he was once a companion, and they had seen many battles together. It was convenience that kept them from being enemies now, as he was still an intruder in Halamshiral, but in truth Morrigan was relieved she would not have to forcibly remove him. Or call the guard. She kept her voice low as they walked, maintaining a casual gait so as not to arouse any suspicion if they encountered any more servants. “ So, you move actively against the Crows now, rather than merely fleeing their wrath. That is quite the switch. ”

usuledinnadas

“–It’s not worth the trouble. Unless you enjoy scolding from Josephine. I once did the same, but an Inquisitor starting fires makes everyone uneasy, magic made or not.”

Myrrha’s expression remained neutral, entirely oblivious to any offense she may have caused. She bristled slightly at the remembrance that she was forbidden from skinning rabbits in the presence of noble guests as well.

#█░ x-conversations-x: guarded as she is she cannot deny 'tis a pleasure to converse #█░ x-verse-x: a trusted advisor #usuledinnadas

{ M } -- “ ‘Tis not the most appealing notion, no. Truly, from the tales they tell in Orlais, I am surprised any wayward spells on your part are not labelled divine omens from Andraste herself. ” She shifts, relaxing by a hair. Golden eyes scrutinize the elf’s face, searching her expression for any clue as to her feelings.

apostateofsass

Give me all the K.

I want the K: not accepting

17: Goofy Kiss

“You actually wore this?”

The grandiose descent down the stairs into Skyhold’s garden fell a little flatter than Hawke anticipated, breathless as she was from the bone corset constricting her organs. The shoes were one slip away from sending the Champion careening down the stone to break her neck. And having a hoop within a skirt was asinine. Hawke had to kick hard just to take a step forward.

“Twould seem you’ve no regard for my personal effects. I’ve no love for that life but I would mind if you should blemish the garment with blood. Tis obvious you are fond of smearing it on yourself.”

With a hand over her heart, Hawke sighed over dramatically and stumbled forward as if physically wounded by Morrigan’s scathing remark. Hard to say if she perfected the art of insults during her time at court or simply possessed the gift all along. Probably a mixture of both. Taking up position next to the arcane advisor, Hawke leaned against the wall in Morrigan’s court attire, the Champion wholly unperturbed by how ridiculous she now looked.

“You forget I am friends with Varric, whose exact words were, and I quote, ‘I would pay five sovereigns to see that.’”

A dry chuckle was her only reward, but Hawke flashed a grin nonetheless, sidling ever closer as if part of the courtyard’s ivy snaking towards the sun. Morrigan turned her cheek, paying the other’s antics no mind until Hawke deftly dipped the other woman into a kiss for all present in the garden to see.

“Or do you prefer to be the one swept off your feet?”

#█░ x-codex-x: will they remember her as she was or will she become another faceless legend?#█░ x-companion-x: she walks in the wilds and knows it as only one who owns it can #apostateofsass #{ 8] }#{ love }

to catch a crow

Zevran braced himself, drawing a blade as easily as one might flex a muscle. A flick away from eliminating one witness, he knew there would be a second casualty as a face appeared in the mouth of the corridor.

But it was not a servant or a guard who had stumbled upon the scene. Although a smirk appeared on his face, he could not have been more shocked if the Empress herself had discovered his presence in her palace.

“Ah, my dear Morrigan,” he purred, still clutching the servant tightly. “I suppose that would explain why you did not simply continue on your patrol like a half-witted guard.”

He paused, looking the witch from the silk hem of her gown to the amber of her eyes. “And ah, how well the passage of time has treated you. While I would have liked to make the most of our unexpected reunion, I must admit that I am in a bit of a hurry. Your Baron, Feuilly, has a contract on his head, and I came to intercept the Crow who has taken it.”