anchored hero

independent 🌲 selective 🌲 mutuals only 🌲 dragon age inquisition rp

ashawen lavellan  🍃 rogue archer  🍃 dalish elf inquisitor

pages are to be updated, blog is heavily under construction

@anchoredheroes asked: “ i am grateful, you know. for everything you’ve ever done for me… i notice. and i see you. and i’ve never thanked you properly before, so… thank you. ” for cully

cullen stopped to stand up a little bit straighter to look her in the eyes. he had been hunched over documents left on the war table, prepping for the next meeting. he was a little bit surprised by her words, but nodded his head and offered a little bit of a smile. “it is nothing inquisitor, just my duty.” 

Heart

A heart in a cynical sense feels nothing, it simply carries through all the blood, all the oxygen, all the components the other parts that do feel need. An ugly organ, misshapen and strange when held in the palm of your hand. Yet, it is the centre of your being. It is the core. Even when you try to act unaffected, it is your heart that gives you away, skipping a beat, fluttering in excitement, halting dead in terror. You have so much of it to give, you just haven’t learned to discern who is and isn’t worthy of it yet. Hold onto it. Do not whittle it down, carve names into the flesh that you cannot erase. Remain patient, remain astute, and remain loving.

Filarick blinked at her, staring for a moment before looking at the mabari in her arms and smiling slightly, finding the mabari cute and also the panicked look on her face amusing. “Well I can tell you that they’re not trying to eat you, so there’s that, as for what to do with them, you could keep them as a pet or something?” He glanced down at the way too skinny mabari before saying. “Either way they definitely look like they need to eat more.” He looked over at the tavern for a moment and said. “I was just heading to the tavern,  if you want, we can go get something to eat for both of you?”

Filarick was taken aback by the sudden nudity, quickly averting his eyes and blushing slightly as she started taking off her tunic. He wasn’t expecting that and was in no way prepared, after she spoke again he took a second to quietly take a deep breath before looking back at her, the slight blush having mostly left his face. “Alright, though how about next time you give a bit of a warning before you start stripping, ey?” He said as he moved closer to her to inspect the wound on her side that was visible now and he started using healing magic on it, slowly closing it from the inside out. “This isn’t as bad as it looks surprisingly, you should be good to go as soon as I’m done. That is, so long as you don’t have any other wounds I don’t know about, any pain elsewhere?” He said as he focused on the wound he could see.

A soft, breathy laugh left Marie at the words, smiling some. “Something tells me that the both of us do far better in a forest than anywhere else.” They certainly weren’t the same, but she had that feeling that the two of them were similar enough. 

"something tells me you would be correct, arani," the dalish woman laughed, reaching back to fidget with her braids. "it's hard to feel comfortable around so many.... " humans? perhaps a poor choice of words in this instance, "people. and responsibilities. you know what? i think i remember seeing our leather stores were low. i think it's high time a hunting trip was arranged. don't you?"

@anchoredheroes​​ ❤️ for a starter from Caleb

Somewhere there was a cool breeze, somewhere there was blessed shade. Somewhere, Caleb was almost certain, there was snow– not that he could imagine it now, of course. That place was not here.

“You said your scouts found this place?”

Sand crunched beneath their boots. And his teeth. And it poured from his ears. It worked its way into his hair and beneath his nails and every other unspeakable place it could find. The sweat certainly didn’t help. Sweat-soaked skin stuck his tunic to ever crease and fold of his body. Even the books beneath his armpits sagged under the draconian heat. Outside on the temple steps his tattered cloak lay in a heap with his scarf and staff. Part of him wished to join them. Ok, perhaps a rather large part. With everyone else circled around the oasis pool, gathered beneath the verdant palm fronds and bright blue water lapping about their ankles, it was rather bleak to wander the desolate room alone. Or.. nearly so. Behind him he could hear Asha’s feet shuffling over dusty stone.

How her feet did not scald in the scorching sand, he couldn’t say. But he expected that even she might welcome the brief respite of the pool outside. No matter how delightful the sound, he also knew that she wouldn’t leave him to wander alone. Her sharp eyes followed him when she thought he wasn’t looking. They were keen, glittering brighter than the crystalline oasis spring in which their companions damn near frolicked. They were watchful. So here she was, only half investigating the single room while shadowing his steps.

But whatever she thought, there were secrets here worth knowing. It was the accessing of them that troubled him.

Long carved lines with great arcing circles and a number of pitted structures that resembled flowers covered the walls. Bandaged palms edged across swirling patterns carved in the blackened stone. Not the stuff from local quarries, limestone or sandstone he suspected, but something else entirely. Where they sourced the stone from was of little interest to him, but the implications of their ability to transport something of this magnitude– across miles of desert no less. Or even more enticing– from miles below. But then why make only a single heptagonal room? And why abandon it? A faceted sable eye half buried amidst the dunes. Ancient Imperium, perhaps?

The heat and impotent study was beginning to wear on him. With a sigh, he untied the canteen from his waist and took a long drink. 

“Here, catch.”

Relinquishing the bottle to his nosy companion, he leaned back against the wall. But just as soon as he’d done so, he leapt from the surface as if it had burned him. With wide eyes, he turned back to the wall but found nothing. Had he imagined it? Glancing down at Frumpkin who had been laying quite peacefully near his feet, his head at raised from his paws to look intently at the stonework. No, not his imagination then. Brows furrowed, he leaned close again with his hand out to the Inquisitor in a quieting motion.

“It was only for a moment, but–” he inched closer to the wall. “I could have sworn it was, uhm…” There. Again, little more than a vibration beneath his fingertips but undoubtedly there.

“Singing.”

With a grin that could cut glass, he set to work. When he stepped away it was gone once more. Step forward, and the barest hint of a half finished tune was rumbling through the stone. Back, and it was gone. Caleb frantically emptied his pockets and belt. Stepping forward– nothing. Something he wore then? He picked up each item and held it towards the wall.

“Na bitte, meine Sängerin…” A flask of blue lyrium. Now free from it’s pouch the song was nearly audible, almost a whisper on their skin, and the liquid inside rippled even when he held it still.

the heat had never been her friend.

to some, this might seem obvious, with crimson locks and seaglass eyes and skin ever-freckled. were it not for the shade of her skin, she would resemble any other ginger-haired woman, burning under a merciless sun. others might take a look at her skin, bearing a similar shade to the sand of the hissing wastes, and decide it meant she was meant for these temperatures. regardless of opinion, ashawen herself was not too fond of the heat. she'd left her armour behind at the camp -- a poor choice, perhaps, as she had no idea what threats they would face but the midday temperature had proven to be unbearable. rather than her standard tunic and breeches, she found herself in long loose layers, with only her arm and leg wraps sticking close to her skin.

what she wouldn't have given to join her companions in that crystalline oasis. alas, the ander mage beside her was keen to wander and explore this strange temple they found themselves in, both alike and unalike the elven one found weeks earlier, solasan. she was ever so thankful for a lifetime's worth of callouses; as it was, the scorching stone and sand only stung a little beneath her feet. later, she was sure, she'd need to apply a balm to soothe the more irritated spots. yes, she certainly longed to join her companions in the beautiful waters. yearned for it. but caleb... he was an enigma. a puzzle to be solved. both like and unlike the other mages that had joined them at redcliffe, and he intrigued her. besides, powerful he may have been... but sturdy? she doubted it. man was purely vertical. as thin was one of her arrows, and much more fragile. " yes, but i'm not sure how a place like this could have ever been lost. "

it was strange. she would have expected more elven writing along the walls. or, really, anywhere. admittedly, she wasn't particularly literate in the language, she did have a bare-bones understanding of it, more than what she'd initially had of the king's tongue. despite the heat, a shiver rippled through her. this place... it felt strange. as old as solasan, or perhaps even older. would they find spirits here? demons? the anchor remained deceptively calm; her nerves burned up past her elbow, and it ached, but it was nothing outside of the normal. still, the dalish woman drew her bow nonetheless, arrow held against flexible wood in preparation for whatever threat might draw near. her ears twitched as her foot caught a loose stone, skittering it across the ground.

she had just enough warning to quickly switch bow and arrow into one hand, nearly fumbling the catch with a curt elven swear. she maintained her shreds of dignity, albeit barely as she caught the strap, and sighed, tucking bow over her arm and putting arrow away so that she may take a drink. she had not realised how thirsty she'd gotten, and the semi-cool water feels wonderful on her parched throat. she was about to throw it back to him with a word of thanks when-- he reacted sharply, and her hand goes to her blades ( blades quicker, threat immediate, can't draw bow, hands occupied, where is threat? ) but... no. she didn't hear an enemy. instead, he stepped closer to the wall once more and ashawen frowned, walking closer to stand by his side.

“It’s nothing, really,” he insisted, waving off her compliments even as his eyes followed her across the room. Did elven ears always dance when their feet were otherwise occupied? A smile flickered through that rosy visage for her wonderment. His little bird rustled in her palms, and its song continued.

It was… sweet. Amazement at such a simple spectacle, like it was the first time she’d ever seen magic up close. According to her, it was– at least of this sort. No flashy explosions or twirling staves, just a bit of hedge magic. Warmth bloomed in his chest to match that which was fading from his cheeks, and it bubbled up to hold that little smile in place.

Until she set his enchantment back on the table and extended her hand to him.

From the table, Frumpkin’s tail swished lazily. Caleb could almost imagine his feline friend laughing at his predicament.

“Oh- no, no I’m–” he stumbled over the words, and should he try to uproot his feet he was sure they would follow. With a breath, he steadied the heart threatening to beat from his chest. “It has been a very long time. I am… out of practice.”

she could sit there and stare at the little marvel for hours, if given the chance. she'd seen magic before, of course she had. the more explosive spells of fire and ice, lightning and spirit. she'd seen her hahrens transform into any manner of creatures, seen healers stitch grievous wounds together... even the more practical spells to help them in their travels. but magic always had a purpose. a practical purpose. not something such as this, light and mirthful and purely out of enjoyment.

sure, one could argue that this little fragile bird served a practical purpose as well. its purpose was to sing a melody for her, so that she may properly learn to dance. yet, were she to bring such an arguement to the hahrens of her clan, it would be dismissed as frivolous. as frivolous as her childhood claims of the singing veil. as strange as the way she weaved through invisible crowds as she walked. not at all the same.

@anchoredheroes​ asked: ❝ i know this is gonna make me sound like a baby but thunderstorms really freak me out, can i hang out with you until it gets quiet again? ❞ ( for Josette maybe? ) it had been a rare moment of quiet in the medical wing of skyhold and josette was taking full advantage of it. the mage had been cleaning and organizing the various potions and salves when the familiar footfall of the inquisitor reached her ears. she smiled sympathetically, but not with pity, at asha’s request. “of course you can, inquisitor. and you don’t sound like a baby, at least not to me. i’ve known many people who feared thunderstorms, all of different ages. does busying yourself help distract you or would you rather sit quietly until it passes?”