#eris thorne

SAD GIRL WARDEN CLUB ⚔️

Just the saddest little Wardens you ever did see! What started as a silly joke in a Tumblr comment thread is now front and center on Issue #2 of Thedas' hottest magazine for fashionable Wardens everywhere.

Check out Issue #1 here!

FEATURING THE VERY SAD: AYLA (@mushrooms-x-moss), ERIS (@grand-crow), LYDIA (@dudewheresmynug), ZEA (@redaresss), & QUEENIE (@lycheecatee) 💕

Ploppin' the tag list below to share the silliness! 🥲💧

@onelooseskull @serialsforbellara @davrinsleftpectoral @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @hedwigoprah @guacamolleee @introvertedfangrl @vishantikaffar @sunny374940 @sorcerousadventurer @necromanticsoul @brightbreezeblog @casa-dei-corvei @handsignals @wolfmoonwildflowers @notyourmamasdeerbat @sandcastlekings @curiouswisp @quaksi @trashwithvariety @trash-nerd @rooks-dagger @tevivinter @genjyoandgojyoandhakkai @zennihilation @kogarashi-art @pinkvbay @chaosherald @xkatchy @brynriith @in-the-drowning-deep @ass-deep-in-demons @bronzieinthedas @winterhartarts @oddsaint22 @veilguardingonmain @wickedadaar @lemondelighted @andthekitchensinkao3🌿

@onelooseskull @serialsforbellara @davrinsleftpectoral @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @hedwigoprah @guacamolleee @introvertedfangrl @vishantikaffar @redaresss @sunny374940 @sorcerousadventurer @necromanticsoul @brightbreezeblog @casa-dei-corvei @lycheecatee @handsignals @wolfmoonwildflowers @sandcastlekings @notyourmamasdeerbat @curiouswisp @quaksi @trash-nerd @trashwithvariety @dudewheresmynug @rooks-dagger @tevivinter @genjyoandgojyoandhakkai @seaglassmelody @zennihilation @pinkvbay @chaosherald @xkatchy @brynriith @in-the-drowning-deep @ass-deep-in-demons @bronzieinthedas @winterhartarts @oddsaint22 @therivercrow @veilguardingonmain 🌿

“You know our Marie?”

“No.” Why does she assume I know every sodding person in the Anderfels?

“Oh you'll know her! She's Ansel's cousin's stepsister. You know Ansel, the one caught peddling counterfeit relics near the Chantry.”

Rook does remember being offered the toenail of Andraste a few years back.

“Anyway, when our Marie was doing time for that spate of indecent exposure, she taught herself Orlesian.”

“Uh huh...” Rook can barely disguise the scepticism in her voice. “So.... What does it say?” Rook takes a glass of sparkling wine from a nearby server. This should be good.

“It says 'you only live once,' but in Orlesian, obviously.” Sylvia reaches down pulling away the layers of skirt to proudly display her ankle to a bewildered Rook.

The taller woman leans down for a better look. Her eyes barely open as she squints at mostly illegible text. The ink is smudged, and in an awful cursive that makes her own chicken scratch look refined. It doesn't quite say what Sylvia expects, translating to 'we only live for one liver.' At least in Sylvia's case, these are wiser words to live by...

“Erm, Sylvia-”

“Lovely isn't it?” The drunken Ander interrupts. “There's one in Qunlat on my left tit as well, it says 'Live. Laugh. Love. Wanna see?”

Rook momentarily forgets how to swallow as she nearly chokes on her wine. “N-No! Sylvia, it's okay, but why are you getting random shite tattooed-”

“HELLO SERVER!” Sylvia's bellow reverberates around the parlour, frightening poor Rook who clutches at her glass for dear life. The waiter sweeps past them, either not understanding or pointedly ignoring the inebriated Ander.

“Bloody typical, that's not the first time that's happened tonight.”

Gee, I wonder why.

“Sylvia, for a lot of the staff, the common tongue isn't their first language, have you tried the odd bit of Orlesian?” Rook prays that didn't sound too condescending, she knows her aunt can get a bit 'physical' when hammered.

“Oh sweet pea, what do you take me for? Of course I have. Watch this.” Sylvia staggers her way in front of an alarmed waiter, Rook sees it in his eyes, the fight or flight response. “EXCUSEE ME, UN LA BEERO SEE VOO PLATE.”

Mentally, Rook is packing her bags and traipsing off for her Calling. She's about to whisper something to the waiter until a loud eruption sends her lurching into him.

“THEY'RE PLAYING MY SONG!”

Before Rook's brain can register what's happening, sloshed Sylvia teeters towards the harpsichord. A sea of rouge and powdered wigs look on in abject horror as the woman gyrates her hips in a distinctly lewd fashion. Grinding down on the startled musician, her buttocks sway arrhythmically to now dissonant chords. “Sweet pea! Come and join me!”

Oh could this be it? This bubbling? Could they finally be calling to me? Shit, no, it's just gas.

“No, you do you Sylvia! Knock yourself out!” Hopefully literally.

Lace materialises next to Rook, causing the tall woman to lurch forwards once more. “Lace, mon cœur, learn to make a noise when you move!"

“Sorry, I'll start thrashing around like you do... I see Sylvia is having the time of her life.” Lace looks on at the Ander prostrates herself on all fours, slapping her rear-end to endless mutterings of 'mon dieu!'

“Say Lace, fancy a tattoo in Orlesian?”

“Err, no.”

“Shame, you'd look good with 'ma biche' plastered on your right arse cheek.”

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