#sulevin

The game that brought me into the world of Thedas for the first time in 2015, absorbing a part of my soul & mind alike.☺️

💚Inquisitor Sulevin Lavellan & Fen'harel💜 (Ex-Solavellan)

Timelapse & sketch:

Sulevin - he/they/any

Not 100% on the "tattoos" but i'll pen that down some other time :)

this is Sulevin's D&D AU/variant! the main difference between him in Thedas vs him in Faerun (at least physically): DA: Vallaslin - D&D: Actually just a part of his skin! Mortal Elf, frontline mage fighter (arcane warrior) - Fey(Eladrin) druid, healer

and with being fey his ears curl up and are longer than his DA version.

Being Fey he doesn't quite go through the same issues and frustrations he does as his usual setting (cough racism and anti-mage sentiments cough), but instead he has an extended lifespan and is learning to deal with the differences in his own mortality and that of others.

She doesn’t sleep, unable to find quiet in the midst of the echoes that fill her head. How can she believe the word of the self-avowed god of trickery? How can she trust a man who claimed to teach and aid her while using and deceiving them all? How can she listen to someone whose madness seeks to destroy the world in a futile attempt to bring back a time irrevocably lost? 

Yet with everything she’s seen, walking along his pathways in the footsteps of her distant ancestors, how can she not? 

The nights stretch on, spent lying silently awake beside a sleeping shemlen who may love her but cannot understand her turmoil. His certainty in the Maker remains ever unshaken. She envies him that belief, if not the distant, uncaring god at its center. 

Her thoughts entwine like tangled vines, past intermixing with present, memories weaving together like the horns of her father’s halla, like the lines of her brother’s vallaslin. 

Evanuris. False gods. The Creators she has always revered, cast as tyrants, arrogant mages corrupt as any magister. It cannot be true, and yet... 

Uncertainty burns in her like green fire. Memory flickers. 

“Dirthamen? I... I expected you would choose Andruil as I did.”  “I know, lethallan. But you can see that I didn’t.”  “Why?”  “You can’t expect me to answer that. Should I betray my vallaslin before the writing even has time to heal?” 

What secrets did he hold from her, knowledge that turned him from the path they once walked together? After years of wondering, perhaps now she understands how Reverence for the Goddess of the Hunt turned to ironic, mocking tribute to the Keeper of Secrets. Perhaps she is not alone in her doubt, a bowstring snapped, a sail flapping loose untethered. Perhaps there are answers to be found, certainty like an arrow’s smooth flight, a snare pulling taught. 

sulevin (he/they/any) and ruby (he/him) ( @dellvanity )

ruby is a half dragon half firbolg! sulevin brought ruby back to his home in the feywild where it's safer for ruby and his dragon dad to live in ;w;

I guess i’m never going to finish this so here - my happy Sulevin kicking Solas’ ass during their practice time

‘I can’t believe it was so easy to hit you, Solas.’

‘My attention was elsewhere, vhenan.’