Welcome To Dadwc!! How About "have You Ever Lost Someone?" For Your Tabris & Zevran?!

Redcliffe Conversations

Lysas

The Hinterlands Masterpost Related Quest: In Hushed Whispers

The PC approaches the elf outside of the Gull and Lantern

Lysas: You’re from the Inquisition. I didn’t think you’d still be here. Were you really looking to ally with us?

Dialogue options:

General: Yes. Mages should be free. [1] - Sera disapproves - Cassandra slightly disapproves - Vivienne slightly disapproves

General: You sound doubtful. [2]

General: No. Mages should be contained. [3] + Sera slightly approves + Cassandra slightly approves + Vivienne approves

1 - General: Yes. Mages should be free. PC: I want this war to end without sending you back to the circle. Lysas: There has to be a way, right? We’re not what they think: all blood mages and abominations. We just want to be normal. Have families. Use our magic to… help grow crops or something. We never wanted war. [4]

2 - General: You sound doubtful. PC: Is that so hard to believe? Lysas: Everyone blames us. The templars left the Chantry, too. That’s worse, isn’t it? They took an oath. Yes everyone calls it the “mage rebellion.” We’re the ones they hate. [4]

3 - General: No. Mages should be contained. PC: This rebellion is doomed. I offered your leaders a way to end it peacefully. Lysas: There was no other way! Do you think any of us wanted this? On the run, everyone hating us… What choice did we have? Stay and be slaves? [4]

4 - Scene continues:

Vivienne: There are better ways than war to affect change.

Solas: Sometimes to achieve the world one desires, one must take regrettable measures.

Lysas: I… I hope you can do something. Tying ourselves to Tevinter…? That can’t be the right way to end this.

5 - Dialogue options:

Investigate: Tell me about yourself. [6]

Investigate: You don’t like Tevinter? [7]

Investigate: When did the magister come? [8]

General: Be careful. [9]

6 - Investigate: Tell me about yourself. PC: You seem young to be part of this. Lysas: I’m Lysas. I came into my magic when I was nine years old. Templars came into the alienage and took me to the Circle. They didn’t even let me say goodbye. It’s not right. I studied hard, I passed my Harrowing, I sing the chant. But I’ll be locked up the rest of my life. [Back to 5]

7 - Investigate: You don’t like Tevinter? PC: You don’t approve of the Grand Enchanter’s decision? Lysas: I was there when we voted to leave the Circle. She really seemed to care what we wanted. She was ready to rebel, but she wasn’t going to unless it was the will of all mages. It’s hard to believe she’d go behind our backs and sell us to the magisters. [Back to 5]

8 - Investigate: When did the magister come? PC: How long has the magister been here? Lysas: A day or two after… after the Conclave, he arrived. Come to save us from the wrath of the templars, he said. But this doesn’t feel like safety. [Back to 5]

9 - General: Be careful. PC: Take care of yourself. There’s something strange going on. Lysas: I never thought the Grand Enchanter would swear to a magister.

CONFESSION:

I know it's insignificant and unlikely, but I've been wanting to go to Tevinter since my family was sold into slavery in DAO and, like.... I just want to know if Valora is okay? If Bioware could put her name above an NPC's head or something, I'd be happy. My poor Tabris never got to rescue her, and I need closure.

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag, @daggerbean! c:

I haven't had much time to write this week (given the circumstances), but luckily I have a handy pile of WIPs in various states of completion. This one covers the wedding scene at the beginning of Origins, the return to the alienage, and the Landsmeet, but it's a bit patchwork at the moment. This scene is set just after finding Shianni later in the game.

Sorry if I tagged you on the other blog already this week haha, my brain is goop. Tagging (no pressure): @demandthedoodles @dungeons-and-dragon-age @greypetrel @ndostairlyrium @vakarians-babe @star--nymph @zenstrike

CW: Panic attack, indirect references to the events of the Tabris origin

“The things that happened after your wedding,” Shianni said, her voice tight, “it was horrible.” Already, being back in the alienage was doing something to her. Wen was not the same girl who’d walked away from here. She could not duck her head and hope for the best as she had for the last ten years. She…also could not hate these people as she had when she’d left. Plenty of them were awful—had been awful to her family for as long as she could remember—but she could see the pained exhaustion in their faces now, too. They were all trapped here together and none of them could do a blighted thing about it. The closest they’d ever come to feeling powerful was kicking at her family when they could.  Arianwen didn’t want them all to die.  But this was—oh, this hurt her. Shianni’s eyes flicked to the left a second before Zevran spoke.  “A wedding?” he sounded like his old, amused self—which, she supposed, meant that he was very hurt. Curse it all. Curse this place and everything that'd happened here. “So there is a secretive side to you after all.”

Little insects crawled around inside of Arianwen’s skin. They carried with them the stench of the alcohol on Vaughan’s breath, the sharp scent of the hair oil Wen had been wearing that day, the heaviness of the dress on her body, the ringing in her ears when she’d woken in the arl of Denerim’s residence. Secretive—yes, she’d been carrying many tiny secrets inside of her. She’d thought she’d gotten rid of them, pawned and forgotten like the golden ring in Ostagar.  Zevran was waiting; she did not want him to wait. Wen looked over her shoulder at him and forced herself to meet his eyes.  “I was…betrothed,” she said, and his face didn’t change one whit. She’d have to explain herself later, when she wasn’t…when they weren’t… “It didn’t end well.” Shianni looked at her, but Wen couldn’t read her expression. It was too loud in her ears to make anything out, though she’d once known her cousin’s face better than her own. Everything around her seemed blurred, somehow, oil paint smeared by a careless finger. Zevran and his bright eyes and his kidskin voice were her present; this place, crooked and dark and foul-smelling, was her past. She didn’t like them meeting. If she’d been thinking, she would have left him at home and dragged Leliana and her pity along instead.  “No?” Zevran’s brows were arched, his mouth crooked with something that might be described as a smile. She wished she didn’t know him so well; she wished she couldn’t see the wound underneath the golden veneer.  Wen wanted to crawl out of her own body. No—she wanted Morrigan’s trick of shedding her own skin and taking another instead. She’d be a cat up the vhenadahl by now if she could, or a mouse lost to the roots.  “You left him at the altar, didn’t you?” Yes.  Yes, she had, in a way. She hadn’t been there for that, though. She’d been neither here nor there, really. She looked at Zevran, her lips parting and pursing again, and his smile faded to a sliver. Beside her, carefully, Shianni’s hand crept into hers. They’d stood like this a hundred times: in the market, when the other people would jostle them as they carried their purchases home; down the street to the gates when Shianni would leave for work; beside the pyre when Mother had been burned. Wen squeezed and Shianni squeezed back, her hands rough and cold but nonetheless comforting in their familiarity.  Tabris couldn’t read Zevran’s face, either. He wasn’t smiling. His eyes looked—she didn’t know. Would it be horrible if she was sick right now?  Yes. She should say something instead. Wen worked her jaw loose from its rictus and spoke.   “He died,” she said. 

Mama Tabris: probably at least half the reason Tabris gets into so much trouble, but also the reason she can handle herself so well once she's in it.

I COME BEARING PROMPTS: "are you falling asleep?" for Kallian x Alistair (Allian? Kalistair? I like Kalistair)

thank you effe!! 🥰

some kallistair for my first ever @dadrunkwriting :3 [prompt]

rated g. warden tabris/alistair. 481 words. pre-relationship tension. there's only one bed 👀

Shale kept watch, both on their surroundings and on Zevran. Morrigan had her own little camp not too far away. Bodahn and Sandal slept in their caravan. Sten and Pether shared a tent. Leliana and Wynne shared another.

That left one.

Between Ciarth taking up far too much space than he needed, and Alistair being as big as he was, Kallian felt... squished.

Her mabari had fallen asleep as close as possible, almost cuddling with one leg thrown across her. She didn't mind, it was winter after all. Plus he was cute.

It did, however, ensure that she and Alistair were pressed up against each other, arm to arm.

Despite their flirting – Kallian refused to see it as more than that – tent sharing was always a very clinical, matter-of-fact affair with the two of them in a way it wasn't with anyone else. There were no whispered conversations, no huddling for warmth, and no stifled giggles. Just two quick goodnights and a see you in the morning.

Things felt... different after the Circle Tower.

"Are you asleep?" Alistair whispered, breaking their longstanding tradition.

"Yes," she replied automatically, staring up into nothingness. He huffed a laugh.

"Are you... are you falling asleep?" he tried again.

"'m trying to."

"Sorry. It... it's just been on my mind."

Kallian didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say. She wanted to pretend she had no idea what he was talking about, it was just too... complicated otherwise.

"Don't worry about it," she whispered after a while. "It was the demon, it doesn't... it doesn't mean anything."

"But what if it does?" he answered with no hesitation, like an arrow to her chest.

"What do you mean?" she asked weakly.

"Nothing," Alistair sighed, before doing the unthinkable. He turned around to face her, laying on his side. Slowly, she shifted to do the same, trying not to disturb Ciarth too much.

"You mean a lot to me, Kall," he muttered, impossibly close and a million miles away. It was too dark for her to properly see him, only a hazy outline that sent her heart hammering against her chest.

"Regardless of..." he trailed off. "You're the only other Warden in Ferelden. You're my friend. I don't want things to be weird just because–"

"They're not weird," she lied quickly. "You... you mean a lot to me too, Al."

If it was just earlier during the day. If the moon hadn't been obscured by dark clouds. If their tent had been closer to the campfire.

Kallian might have been able to make sense of the heavy tension that had softly landed over them. She might have been able to make out more than just Alistair's shallow breath, and her quaking fingertips.

"Goodnight," he whispered, his breath ghosting over her lips. Impossibly close. A million miles away.

"Goodnight," she murmured. "See you in the morning."

this includes fic promo btw!!

I'm absolutely happy to reblog old things next week btw! Don't worry if you can't create anything specifically for next week, tag me anyway! :)

Winter Guardian 

This first version of my new tree amulet is now ready on my shop: the design it’s inspired by Dragon Age Origins and some of my own fantasy stories. I hope you like it!

hi!! Do you know when you'll be posting the optional prompts? I really want to participate, but I'd love some time beforehand to mull over my ideas because I don't think I'll be able to write things day-of during the week 😅

hi!! thank you for your interest :)

sorry, i had intended to post them by now, but i've been feeling really burned out after work. they're locked and loaded in the drafts, i was just holding off 'cause i wanted to try and make some graphics, but 😅

i'll try and post them tonight! :]

City Elf Appreciation Week

~ 5th of August - 11th of August ~

Here are some optional prompts for next week! Please feel free to do whatever you like with them. Remember to tag @cityelfweek or use the tag #cityelfweek24!

Day 1 - Vhenadahl - A pillar of many alienage communities. Firewood in others.

Day 2 - Folklore - Show the folklore that city elves have created over time. Superstitions, stories, heroes, villains... anything!

Day 3 - Community - Close-knit family, or claustrophobic little box?

Day 4 - Customs and Tradition - Andrastian? Dalish? Somewhere in between, or something all new?

Day 5 - Alienage - The only home many city elves ever know.

Day 6 - OC - A day to celebrate original city elf characters!

Day 7 - Free Day - All things city elf!

[original post][divider credit]

Isseya and Garahel from the dragon age novel "Last Flight" written by Liane Merciel.

Reworked her portrait. Sometimes I stare so long at something that my view gets totally scewed. Always good to get up more often.

Still far away from what I want, so it will be portraits for a while. Enough characters left in those books that no one yet has visualized.