Farseer Drijya

The Imperial Throne sits empty.

The Dragonfires cold; unlit.

And from every corner, darkness grows.

Now, ancient enemies band together.

Unlikely alliances are forged.

Old ambitions rekindled.

And as enemies rise faster than allies,

salvation cannot come from one hero alone,

but from many.

It’s still worth writing even if you aren’t feeling it right now.

It’s still worth writing even if it’s fanfiction.

It’s still worth writing even if you don’t think anyone else would ever want to read it.

It’s still worth writing even if it doesn’t get published.

It’s still worth writing even if it doesn’t get adapted into a huge blockbuster movie.

It’s still worth writing even if you can’t have fancy illustrations at the beginning of chapters or a map of the world at the beginning.

It’s still worth writing even if someone you trusted told you to stop.

It’s still worth writing if you just rolled your eyes at me.

Grey Warden

Okay but I truly love that this explains how nonchalant Fenris is about all the wild shit in Kirkwall, while everyone else is freaking out.

*Blood mages force demons inside templars* The Party: How can they even DO that? Fenris: ...They’re mages?

*Discovering the Magistrate was protecting his serial killer son* The Party: That man is so corrupt! Can you believe it? Fenris: Yes

*Walking through the haunted mansion* The Party: THAT BOOK JUST LEVITATED Fenris: A book? That’s the best you’ve got?

*Corypheus rambling* The Party: This guy is not making sense Fenris: Sounds like any other magister to me