DRAGON AGE CANON & OC MULTIMUSES
including a herald, a seeker, an avvar warrior- a lyrium ghost, a blood mage, a qunari spy
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DRAGON AGE CANON & OC MULTIMUSES
including a herald, a seeker, an avvar warrior- a lyrium ghost, a blood mage, a qunari spy
{ILLUSTRII; INFO} // {DRAGONVERSED; INFO}
{x}

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@dragonversedâ
âYou know--â Bull had an amused look, leaning into the nook that Dorian had taken for his own, smiling at the cozy nature of it all, âI was rather impressed by how you fought off those templars in Haven--â he praised. Granted the manâs penchant for timing while they were under attack had been less than trustworthy, Bull did need to give credit where credit was due, and Dorian knew how to use a staff like a polearm need be.
(nothing like improvised weaponry)
âYou really cracked them over the head, though your form could use a little work.â
@dragonversedââ said:
â you should go. â from Cassandra
    â should i now ? â    golden eyes looked up from their settle upon the war table , each detail carefully noted among the great map of SOUTHERN thedas . troop movements , points of interest , and strongholds known all mapped and cataloged dutifully among themselves . . . and as morrigan looked up , a WOLF eyeing the DRAGON , her lips found themselves curling wickedly . she was not here to coddle , nor was she here on the seekerâs behest : she was here because she had her own plans -- her own insatiable thirst for knowledge -- one born so readily out of fear and reverence for flemeth . but that shine was gone , and in itâs wake morrigan found only BLACKNESS ; a hollow sense of self that would never be filled .
   but as fingers caressed the ancient wood of the tree that once stood PROUD among elvhen altars , morriganâs head canted -- a silent dare against the seeker .
      â do i unnerve you so , seeker , that you would see me away ? â    morriganâs eyes tracked the seeker as she walked passed , and as she stood beside her , the witchâs grin slipped .     â there are larger threats to thedas than witches and demons . or , have you forgotten ? â
   and with that , morrigan left the room , slender fingers brushing against the solid stone door frame as she parted .
@dragonversedâ said:
13 kiss meme from cass
13. an interrupted kiss .
   perhaps it was to be expected -- two POWERFUL forces of nature meeting only to butt heads almost instantly -- yet what happened now with the seeker was completely UNEXPECTED . morrigan couldnât quite place where things had taken their turn but as she stood there before the seeker , golden eyes meeting those of beautiful brown , she couldnât rightfully bring herself to mind . such a brave , determined woman . one who had defied all orders and forged her own path -- it seemed rather too good to be true . finding another kindred spirit so far from the korcari wilds . . . so far from where she once called HOME .
   perhaps that was why they where where they were ? bickering long since bubbling away to instead make way for breathless anticipation , morrigan quite nearly took them further , the final push to a deep ( and likely completely wrong ) kiss . . . and yet as the doors to the war room pushed open -- the offending commander offering them gruff , uninterested hums as he entered -- morrigan pulled away with a sharp clear of her throat .
   it was too much , it seemed , to ask for a simple MOMENT alone in the fortress . sparing the seeker a lingering stare , morrigan smoothed her clothing before excusing herself , leather boots clicking as she exited the room .
Spots to Kiss + 16. a kiss on the back of the neck || @dragonversedâ
It was a small thing of goodness, waking up aching in sweet ways rather than from a long day of walking or being battered senseless by an ogre or a shield. Orlais was a far cry from the Anderfels in terms of how often they saw Darkspawn, and their greatest threat seemed to be the nobility and The Game that the Orleasians so desperately loved to play.
(if he was treating this as a break, he couldnât be blamed.)
 The beds were certainly nicer here, if he had to compliment the Orleasian Wardens on anything. With a groan, he stretched out and reached across the sheets to grab for Loghain, but found the bed sadly empty. An annoyed huff left him and the rogue rolled from the bed and made short work of dressing so he could seek the other out before the morning escaped him.
Rathlein was content to find Loghain already pouring over reports and warden movements in his office. The man was genius when it came to troop movements, there was no question about that. âYou have mages under your command who can wield a sword a great deal better than most chevaliers, you should utilize them more.... theyâre not just healers, you know?â he hummed against Loghainâs ear, resting his hands on the warriorâs shoulders with intent as he read over the otherâs shoulder.
A laugh left his chest at the otherâs grousing and his lips met the soft back of the manâs neck, sighing against the skin in way of apology before he began to pull away. His hands followed suit, leaving Loghainâs shoulders with a warm squeeze.
âWill you be having breakfast?â he ventured, âBecause if you are, may I recommend with those you command instead of in the company of maps and orders?â he questioned innocent enough, but there was a sharpness behind his eyes. âYou perhaps might be able to better assign them if you actually grew to know them, Warden-Commander.â Rathlein admonished.

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@dragonversedâ said: đ 73. your muse loves mine; my muse doesnât feel the same way.
       lelianaâs no fool - and cassandra isnât subtle about her feelings. sheâs been nothing but upfront and honest about the way she feels. and yet, leliana canât move past her own mind. it would be too easy to give in, but that would open her heart up far too much - leave her liable to getting hurt once again.Â
       she canât love cassandra, at least, not in the way that the seeker desires. one of them would always be in danger, and cassandra could always be a target for those that want to hurt the nightingale.Â
      and yet, she keeps coming back, she keeps falling into the otherâs arm whenever she desires because the affection is far too enticing to turn away. but, it isnât fair, and leliana finds herself deep in thought this time, unwilling to stay in cassandraâs bed for any longer.Â
        âi canât keep doing this, cassandra. iâm sorry.â
 â for @dragonversed ( nathaniel ) continued from here                       And why wouldnât I want to help? he wants to say. With a shrug and a silent â Suit yourself, â he sets about casting protective wards at intervals around their camp â flickering runes of silver and blue burn into the air with a muttered incantation. It shimmers and distorts before settling leaving them invisible and intangible from the outside â a practiced ritual that has served him well in the past until Templars found ways to counter these sorts of spells. Well, it seems to have worked on Darkspawn so far⊠ With the final rune in place, he turns in time to see Nathaniel clutch at his side, breathless and pale, and moves swiftly to his side to steady. Iâm fine, he says, This is nothing, he says.           â â Turn you into a frog? â A dramatic gasp of feigned offence belied only by vague ( and deniable ) flicker of concern. âI would never! That would be an awful waste, donât you think? What would the Warden-Commander say? â Anders places a firm hand on Nathanielâs shoulder before taking the breastplate and setting it aside. â Donât worry, I will first see if I can work my magic with ordinary bandages and a potent salve â â Maker, there is an alarming amount of fresh blood seeping into the thick fabric around the tearâŠ
          His hand presses Nathanielâs wounded side, emanating a warm glow as he instinctively pushes past the noise holding back the Fade and quietly stems the flow of blood. Maybe I will need a little more than some old bandages after all. â â Here, let me help you with that tunic⊠Oh, relax. You get to keep your breeches on. I just want to see how bad the wound is. â
 â for @dragonversed ( fenris ) continued from here
           A pint ( barely touched ) at his elbow, sloshes precariously and is quickly moved aside as Isabela wraps her arms around his neck, leaning warm and heavy. She has questions involving the size of a mages stave ( just curious, you know, for a friend ). Merrill watches attentively with genuine wide-eyed curiosity and Varric laughs â irreverent and infectious â as Hawkes rises to toast to the staves of mages everywhere. Perpetual near death experiences bring out the best in people ( or maybe they will laugh at anything at this point â he might have to explain the joke to Merrill later ). They never really talk about missions Hawke manages to get them involved in ( not directly anyway ) and there is always that rush, that thrill of being alive at the end of it. The room thrums with drunken chatter, smoke and cheap ale. A bard starts a lewd ballad and a group in the corner start to sing along. He knows how these evenings end. At this point the elf arrives, the hint of fresh blood on his blade the hallmarks of yet another night in Kirkwall. With a delighted laugh, Isabela disentangles herself to go greet him ( before calling for more drinks ) and Anders takes a generous swig of ale meeting Fenrisâ glare with mutual animosity.  Someone is still vying for a fight.             â â Well, it just got too crowded, â he snaps irritably ( though not nearly riled enough to seriously make an effort ). However, Hawke shoots him a warning glance from across the table, sharply cutting off further comment.  Oh, fine... I can be civil. â Weâre about to play some Wicked Grace. Can we deal you in, Fenris? â he adds dryly as Varric starts shuffling cards beside him, half expecting ( half hoping ) the elf to decline.  Â