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Stories in the Ink -- Chapter Four
Solona smiled, walking up the stairs to the third floor of the tavern. She knew the strange boy in leathers would be in the same corner he always was, listening and observing, noticing while he himself remained unnoticed. He was always in the darkest corner, near several crates and a chest, perhaps even a tiny table.
If one were not observant enough-or perhaps, if the young man did not wish to be seen-they would fail to notice his presence, several people oblivious to his mere existence. But Solona was not. She had seen his lithe form in the grasping darkness, clothes merely conjoined leathers and cloths. But more importantly, she could see him because he had wanted her to see him.
"Cole!" Solona greeted, smiling towards her odd friend as Compassion turned towards her, eyes concealed through platinum strands.
"Yes? I am here." The spirit responded, giving the young mage his attention. Or at least as much as the hurts would allow him to.
"I have something for you. They took me a while t
Mature contentDust. Part 2 NorroenDyrd 1 4
Crown of Daisies - Scene 2
There have always been slavers prowling the Wounded Coast - a danger as constant as the massive force of the rising tide. Silent figures in grey armour, blending in with the brine-battered cliffs, or creeping into the most poorly lit, odorous corners of the Kirkwall docks. Watching, waiting. Biding their time until a victim stumbles into their lures - someone abandoned and vulnerable, someone unable to fight back or lacking friends that will care enough to investigate why they are gone.
A ragged drunken elf that has spent all of his meagre wages on drowning his sorrows at the Hanged Man, and taken a wrong turn on his way home. A terrified apostate running blindly from the templars, not even realizing where her own stumbling feet are carrying her. Sometimes, even a stray Tal Vashoth, left over from the Arishok's mad escapade, no longer certain in the teachings of the Qun but not knowing what to do outside of it either, gaping blankly at the rhythmic sway of the sea in a sort of half-sui
Crown of Daisies - Scene 1
It all begins with a group of apprentice mages, huddled in the murky, musty corner of the castle hall.
They are supposed to be safe here: safe from the war-crazed templars who are after their blood, and from the villagers with pitchforks who want their arl back. Safe in the care of 'their betters' from Tevinter, where the templars are the ones that cower in fear and used as obedient tools; where magic is a guarantee of wealth and power, not a wretched, cursed existence in a stone prison; where, as Linnea tells them in a feverish whisper, they themselves might rise to greatness one day, and rain fire and lightning on all who ever wronged them.
They should be safe - and they do not feel so. There is something in the air, something sickly and stifling and wrong; their sleep is disturbed by blurred shadows lurking in the Fade, always in the very corner of their eye, never quite coming into view, vanishing when they turn around to look - while a small voice inside their head whispers that t
Crown of Daisies - Scene 3
At first, Merrill decides that being cross is called for. Very, very, Aveline-level cross. This... This has not been the nicest thing to do to a person! Snatching the said person off, like in Varric's stories but not in a fun way, in the middle of preparing to make a very, very important healing potion, which was supposed to help the second youngest child of that poor widow whose husband was crushed to death by flying debris on the night of the Chantry blast! And then, snuffing out this person's magic, and gagging her, too, to keep her from asking crucial questions - like what kind of spellcraft was making the snatchers' boat cross the waves so fast? Oh, and where they were taking her, she supposes, but that part was a bit less fascinating.
Another not-at-all-nice-thing, on the part of some of her captors, was to turn themselves invisible and flee with her the moment the uncannily speedy boat ground its nose into the mound of gravel (which let out this crunch that made Merrill's stomac
Mature contentCrown of Daisies - Scene 4 NorroenDyrd 0 2
If you'll be my Star, I'll be your Sky Chap: 6
There were always times that Cullen was embarrassed. Learning how to swim by nearly drowning as he jumped in without knowing how to swim, accidentally being pantsed when training, many more than he could remember.
Walking towards the tents and finding Lady Trevelyan looking at the helm that had been made for him by some Orlesian trader he had saved in Kirkwall as thanks, was not one he had in mind.
But heat rose to the tips of his ears and he hurried forward, snatching it from her.
“Give me that!”
“What is it?” Madilyn asked curiously. “It was made with incredible detail.”
“It’s ah…” He coughed, clearing his throat trying to think of something to say. “Did you go into my quarters to get this?” He asked, trying to sound angry, but apparently failing as she smirked.
“No. It was outside your quarters.” She replied with a chuckle. “One of the cleaners must have taken it out to shine it.”
If you'll be my Star, I'll be your Sky Chap: 5
Madilyn groaned turning to see a familiar dwarf.
“Not you too!” She whined and Varric chuckled.
“Easy now, it’s only a nickname. I’ve called plenty people by their last name, so having some nicknames never hurts.” Madilyn was quiet, slumping onto a crate as she exhaled dramatically.
“Not when all you hear is ‘Herald this’ or ‘Herald that’.” She complained and he laughed again.
“Yeah, I can see where that would get annoying.” Varric admitted sitting down next to her, watching as a few children that had followed their parents to Haven ran around, weaving through clerics and such. Madilyn smiled thoughtfully at them, watching them.
So…that was how children played. Without a care in the world, even with everything that was going on around them they still found time to laugh and play. It had been so long, she was sure she had forgotten.
“Now that Cassandra’s out of
If you'll be my Star, I'll be your Sky Chap: 7
Cullen glanced at Madilyn as she stared at the Redcliffe castle.
“Are you alright?”
“Hm? Yeah...I’m fine.” She murmured.
“Not exactly. The castle just looks really imposing in this lighting.” She said, grabbing her staff and latching it to her back. He stared at her as she pulled her hair back
“Lady Herald, I-” He paused when she glanced up at him. “Be careful.”
“I don’t intend on being reckless, Commander...” Madilyn replied gently smiling ruefully, “though my past seems to beg the contrary.”
He didn’t see the humor in it.
“I will try my best to rescue in the event something goes wrong…” he promised and couldn’t quite understand the strange look that passed over her expression. Finally she nodded.
“Alright...Commander, please be-”
Madilyn looked over at Cassandra’s call and sighed as the Seeker waved her
Siris Of Tevinter: Prologue
Fanfiction written by Valadilen and posted on FanFiction.net
Original Character in a Dragon Age (Bioware) Alternate Universe
That was it.
She was screwed.
A horde of darkspawn attacked, killed almost everyone. The noble was dead. She was no better. Threw against a rock, then fell in the road's gutter. And one of the darkspawn with pointy ears vomit his guts on her, as a Warden reduce him to shred. The human did not see tiny elf suffering in the gutter. The heat of the battle was too great!
At that moment, Siris couldn't move. Her body was plagued by a terrible corruption, pain froze her limbs. She couldn't cry or scream. Helpless. Desparate. Look at me! I'm here! She wanted to shout. But no vo
A Little Different - Scene 6
All the companions that Ursa has brought with her have scattered all across the different corners of the murky, high-ceilinged mystery store. Isabela is busy trying on a succession of oversized, outlandishly decorated hats (one even has a row of jingling bells dangling along the hem), all the while blowing teasing kisses at Aveline, who is thoughtfully frowning at an enchanted blade she has picked up. Bethany is stealthily approaching the drowsy mabari hound, apparently with an intention to pet it without waking it up and potentially making it snap her fingers off. Varric is inspecting the twisted pile of desiccated limbs, which is apparently the establishment's owner - you can almost hear the thoughts racing through his head as he figures out what role this grotesque 'Antiquarian' might play in his next book. Anders is crouching in front of the silent, raggedy urchin who serves the ancient merchant, trying to get the child to at least somehow respond to his questions about what sort o
Mature contentBeyond Life - Chapter 24 TovarasNightroad 2 0
Beyond Life - Chapter 22
Title: Beyond Life
Game: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Characters/pairing: (eventual) Dorian Pavus/Male Trevelyan
Disclaimer: I own nothing besides my own play-through of the games and whatever my head manages to come up with when it comes to the story and situations. ... Sadly, I don't make money out of it.
The theory was there, but as it was with so many things, theories were easier than reality.
Any idea could become a theory, theories could be explored and tested, but it was only when put to the test that one can find out if the theories held water or it if would sink like a stone.
As expected by Dorian himself, his own theories and hard work had done nothing more than buy Felix more time.
The taint was, by now, far to spread inside him and while the now bound spirit inside him was holding the taint at bay, he would only have months, maybe a few more years to live, which was more than he would have had.
He would always need the powder th
Molly Jones: Prologue
“It’s calling me,” Molly Jones cried, thrashing wildly in her bed. “They’re coming…we have to go…Zev.”
Zevran Arainai hunched over the sweat stained pillow and sheet and gently comforted his wife. He held her closely while rocking her and whispering soft, meaningless assurances in her ear. In his heart he knew what this was. For forty-two years they had avoided it, so much so that he had truly begun to believe that taint was no longer there and that somehow, she was immune to the effects of the Calling.
But it was not so. For the past year Zevran had watched his beloved slip into a strange haze. Almost overnight, Molly’s demeanor and appearance had utterly changed. Gone was the strong mind that in war led Ferelden’s army and in peace led a nation. Her once velvety grey-green eyes became clouded and watery; her once lovely red hair turned white. And then the moaning started. There were night terrors and sweats. Zevran had the b