#dao week

The Landsmeet, what did your Warden choose to do?  What were the consequences of this? (Aber took a very ‘keep your enemies closer’ method with Anora that I have some solid headcanons about, considering how poorly she and her father were ruling. So like. It’s not so much about Aber liking Anora as it is her a) not wanting to put Alistair on the throne when he doesn’t want it and b) wanting someone she saw as malleable.) Loghain’s blood was still on her face when she turned to Anora. Pointed the sword at her. She flinched, eyes narrowing at the mage. “You.” she hissed, “You betrayed me!” “I...” Anora shrank. “That was my father.” Aberdeen looked down at the corpse. Blood pooling at her feet. “Not anymore.” Anora straightened her back slightly. Tried to look brave. It was acted, of course, but a fair try all the same. “What would you have with me, then, warden?” Aberdeen’s eyes didn’t move from the blood around her feet. “You’re smarter than your father, I’d hope?” she asked. When she looked up, Anora nodded. “Good. Maybe we’ll make something work, then.” It was by no means perfect. Eamon was furious. But, then again, who cared what that old fool wanted anyway. Her interests were in stopping the Blight. And that needed wardens. Ferelden could handle its own mess. They’d make sure it was still standing for them to do so.

Your Warden and their weapon/weapons of choice.  What sort of strategy do they use in battle?  What are their favorite types of weapons? Warden Surana is a force of nature. Lighting and raw spirit magic, hurled from the back line until someone is stupid enough to stray from the tank after her. She doesn’t shrink from a challenge. If anything, she welcomes it. It’s a bit questionable, at first, to see a mage welcome the approach of a templar. But when the lyrium charged spell block clears she stands firm, undaunted. There’s the gleam of something on her belt, just out of view, and then she raises a bloody hand and snatches the air. The fade pulls him in all directions at once and he falls. She lowers her hand and wipes it on her robes. Write about, Draw, or make a tribute to your Favorite Squad Member in Origins. When Morrigan met the Warden she cared little for anyone or anything. It was how she was raised; how she needed to be to survive. It’s almost cruel how much she’s changed now. “Please, let me help.” The caravan is a disaster but they all look largely alive. Just one man with his leg bloodied, an arrow sticking through it. They all start when she steps out from behind it, visibly pregnant even in thick robes. She steps forward and raises her hands to his leg, the healing magic she learned from that blasted old magi school book flowing forward. It handles the injury easily. Before they can respond, she takes a step back. Raises a finger to her lips. And leaves in a whoosh of feathers and wind. What a waste of time that was. Yet she did it anyway. Because... she’s not sure. But she can hear the Warden anyway. I always knew you were a softy. They’d laugh and nudge her arm in that gentle way. She sighs. “Tis your fault, not mine.” Write about, Draw, or make a tribute to your Favorite NPC in Origins. He just wanted a simple life. A pretty girl with brown eyes and a farm. No more magic, no more templars, no more blood. Jowan sighs and stares down at the floor of his cell. Where did everything go so wrong? Maybe if he’d told Surana more. Maybe if he’d asked for help. She’d always been so willing. So much more capable than him. Now he doesn’t even have her around to help him. He rubs at his face and there’s a noise in the far end of the prison, startling him to his feet. No, he can’t defend himself here. If the demons are this far down then... “Jowan?” It can’t be... He blinks and presses against the bars. Surana stares up at him, startled, and reaches out to grasp his face through the bars. Laughs like it’s the biggest miracle she’s ever seen. “You’re alive.” she gasps, shaking his cheek, “Oh, oh my brother.” Jowan wants to cry. After all this time. After all he did to her, to everyone. That word leaves her mouth so easily. He’s family. He belongs. “Yeah... amazing, isn’t it?” he asks. Surana leans back down off her toes. Looks long at him. “What happened?” she asks. Jowan ducks his head. Tells her everything. And she listens, patient. When he’s done, she pats at his cheek again. “What do I have to do?” she asks. “End this. End this mess I’ve made.” She nods. “For you,” she says, “of course.” He does cry now. “Please, let me help.” And she does. Unquestioningly. Because he is family. And he belongs at her side for as long as he has left in this world. Maybe if he’d remembered that from the start, he thinks, this never would have happened.

How does your Warden respond to stress and the different places explored during Origins? The tower looms over them in the distance, a pillar of darkness blocking out the moonlight. Surana tucks her knees up under her chin and pointedly looks down at the water instead. Leliana glances over at her. “Is there something wrong?” she asks gently. Surana shakes her head. “No no, I’m fine.” she says curtly. Alistair reaches over and nudges Leliana’s shoulder before she can speak again. Shakes his head silently. The bard settles back in her seat again. “Nothing’s wrong.” Surana says, more to herself than her companions. “You can’t get claustrophobic in open spaces, right?” Before they leave through the locked door, templars warning them away from the mere idea, she takes a deep breath. One last one before the heavy locks slam closed behind them. Levels her gaze ahead and steps forward. There is fear in her. There is always a fear. But a lion is always a lion; fear or not. Shipping of Non-Warden Pairings.  Write a drabble about a non-warden pairing, or draw them, etc. “If he drives you so mad why not get another job?” Herren shot the Warden a look that could have turned a lesser person to stone. Snorted indignantly and glanced back over at Wade. “The man would die without me.” he says simply. But Wade seems capable enough. He’s a master forger and, whiny or no, perfectly good at surviving. They’ve been ‘roughing it’ for a few weeks in the Keep. No way he couldn’t go off on his own. Then, the Warden stops. “You’ve got other investments, don’t you?” they ask. Herren snorts again, haughty, and waves them off. “Then what is it?” “Guess I should expect this, considering he’s never made a ring he thought good enough for the occasion.” he says finally, watching Wade hammer a chest piece to better fit one of the Warden recruits. The Warden laughs. “I should have known.” they blurt. Herren rolls his eyes. “How long?” “Oh, years now.” he says, “Doesn’t matter. Lost count ages ago. He drives me utterly mad.” He tries not to sound fond when he says this. Judging from the Warden’s grin, it doesn’t work. Oh well.