dragon age ❤ multimuse

The Crows supply their ranks generally from orphans, illegitimate or abandoned children, children purchased from slavery, whore houses and other similar sources. Some are born into the Crows already, but those would be a very small minority, for reasons explained below.

Lucanis mentions that Crow training involves a lot of acrobacy. After a brief search, sports with similar physical requirements such as gymnastics, ballet and martial arts have the ideal starting age in the range of 4-10 years, 15 at the latest, when the children's joints are still flexible (and their minds can be easily manipulated). Zevran is canonically stated to have been taken at the age of 7.

Crow training is intense and brutal, involving straight up torture as tests of pain tolerance. From the 18 fledglings of House Arainai taken in the same year as Zevran, only two survived to the end of their training (World of Thedas Vol. 2). Training with real weapons, harsh punishment, possibly the Spartan custom of underfeeding the children and driving them to stealing food for themselves to encourage learning stealth and resourcefulness, and very likely killing any who try to run away, all these are very likely factors for the high death rate among fledglings.

If the average age of newest Crow fledglings is 6, they might be ready for promotion to the rank of Assassin very well as early as the age of 14-15. This is where the second meat grinder starts, these new Crows will already have plenty experience, but the first solo contracts will still likely take many of them, either killed by their targets, by their Masters for failing the contract, or by themselves to avoid the pain and humiliation of returning to their Masters unsuccessful. This period might likely have the highest suicide rates in general, as the new Crows are still relatively emotionaly vulnerable but old enough to comprehend their position in the world and the weight of their actions.

Promotion to the rank of Assassin also certainly brings great benefits that only increase as the Crow's career progresses and their contracts bring them more coin. The comforts and opulence of Antiva are for them to take, and someone who has grown up only knowing hunger and pain will certainly not hold back. Alcohol, drugs, sex, all the addictions and diseases will surely take the lives of many Crows.

An Assassin's career begins early and ends early. To use sports and dance once again, most porfessional gymnasts and ballet dancers retire between the ages of 25 and 35 as their physical capabilities decline. Those who have survived this long will be granted the rank of Master and oversee the distribution of contracts and the training of fledglings, and will participate in actual assassinations much less. This is also where one might strive to become a Grandmaster or even a Talon. At this point, a Crow will have enough prominence within the organization that they might become a target themselves. Only the most skilled, well-connected and ruthless Crows will continue to rise and, most importantly, continue to live.

If a presumed average number of fledglings per House is around 20, 2-3 will make it to Assassin. In one Assassin's 20 years long career, that would make only about 50 new Assassins out of 400 fledglings. Probably only about a half of those will make it to 35. Even fewer will make it to 50. Out of 400 children bought or stolen from the streets.

sometimes i feel like there's a hole inside of me, an emptiness that at times seems to burn.

be careful what you wish for.

wish you could believe in me.

we have to banish him.

he wants me. just me.

what was that, [name]?

you know what? i wished for you, too.

let him take me.

the nudity is entirely optional.

it wasn't me, it was you.

we'll grow old together.

can love really travel back in time and heal a broken heart?

i think if you lifted my heart to your ear, you could probably hear the ocean.

don't die on me, [name], please.

i bet we even die on the same day.

of course you're going to see me again.

hang on to your husbands, girls.

what wouldn't i do... for the right guy?

i have this dream of being whole, of not going to sleep each night, wanting.

i took an oath to uphold the law.

life is perfect.

don't do that.

i'd like to think so.

i have never asked you for anything.

i feel like i'm never going to see you again.

what are you doing?

i came here to bring in the bad guy because generally that's what i do.

sometimes when the wind is warm or the crickets sing, i dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for.

i just want someone to love me.

i want to be seen.

please do this for me. please?

hold on just a goddamn second. one step at a time.

that's how you came to live with us.

everything is just so blissfully normal.

i wish you could see us.

they like to meddle in people's love lives.

thought you never wanted to fall in love.

you're saying what i'm feeling is just one of your spells?

fall in love whenever you can.

when you find yourself the center of attention... it's not that they hate you. it's that... well. we're different.

you have the worst taste in men.

i was born with them.

since when is being a slut a crime in this family?

you ever put your arms out and spin really, really fast?

maybe i had my happiness.

you promised me that.

so what kind of... uh... craft do you do.

yeah. it's not real.

curses only have power when you believe them. and i don't.

all i want is a normal life.

that's the point.

yeah, well, you know. all relationships have problems.

that's what love is like. it makes your heart race. it turns the world upside down.

when are you going to realize that being normal is not necessarily a virtue?

well... it's what i want.

now that was me.

i don't want them dancing naked under the full moon.

the guy i dreamed of doesn't exist.

is that why they wanted to hang her? because she's a witch?

i don't even mind the beard.

there's a little witch in all of us.

what was that?

i'll tell you all you need to know.

one step at a time.

you think he's dead?

is he cute?

you came for breakfast? we're having pancakes!

what's wrong? cat got your tongue?

it's honestly nothing. i can deal with it myself.

next time something like this happens, you have to promise to tell me.

you're making a big deal out of nothing. i'll be fine.

how long have you had that?

i'm good at this, you know. patching up wounds.

would you cut it out? i'm trying to help you.

why didn't you tell me you were bleeding?

you didn't have to take that hit for me.

what are you hiding from me?

it's not the worst injury i've ever seen, but it's pretty bad.

how long were you going to hide this from me?

at least let me look at it.

there. it looks much better.

this will help with the pain.

i'm forever in your debt.

i didn't have anywhere else to go.

this wasn't supposed to happen.

is that your blood?

i've patched up nastier wounds than this.

stop squirming! you're going to be fine!

this is bad. this is really bad.

i just need a band-aid and a nap. i'll be fine.

we need to get you to a hospital.

how does it look? be honest.

keep your eyes open, okay? keep looking at me.

it doesn't hurt that bad.

give me your hand. let me look at it.

who taught you how to patch a wound like that?

it's not as bad as i thought it would be, that's for sure.

would you just let me help you? please?

you saved my life.

let me go find my first aid kit. it's in here somewhere.

i'll take care of it. you just sit and rest.

see? that wasn't so bad after all.

i've seen worse.

take two of these and drink some water.

ow! that really hurt!

i've got you, okay? everything's going to be fine.

you're gonna have to take your shirt off.

well... it could have been worse.

it looks worse than it really is, i swear.

roll up your sleeve a little, will you?

does that feel all right?

i didn't even realize i was bleeding.

you could have been killed out there!

give me a second to patch this up.

don't close your eyes. you hear me? stay with me.

i'm not giving up on you just yet.

you still need some time to heal.

i'm right here. i won't leave your side.

thank you for taking care of me.

if you can still hear me, help is on the way!

just squeeze my hand when it starts hurting.

how long have i been out?

let me check for a fever.

did you patch this up?

i've had worse injuries than this.

where did you learn to do that?

take some deep breaths for me.

look at me. you're going to be fine.

hold still! stop moving around so much!

i'll take care of you.

what the hell were you thinking?

where does it hurt?

i'm so used to doing this myself.

lift up your shirt a little so i can see.

lay back down. you're not healed up yet.

you never should have put yourself in harm's way like that.

looks like i've got myself a really good nurse.

will you stay with me while i sleep?

no one's ever helped me like that before.

i would have died had it not been for you.

don't you get it? if you don't let me help you, you'll die.

we have to be quick about this.

"If you insist. The offer stands." Rook shrugs one shoulder, a coy little smile tugging at one side of her lips. It certainly would not be the first time she's punched an man—certainly would not be the last. Her gut says to clock him HARD: make him spin like a candlehop. She herself loathes being told to be quite. Calm down. Watch yourself. Silence equates to obedience, in her mind's eye. And for someone to tell Bellara? Her friend? Someone akin to a younger sister she never had? To stop talking? It's a grave sin.

"You owe no one your silence. Cities are supposed to be loud. You can hear newspaper criers from all the way down the block: what's one more voice?"

Merrill chuckles just below her breath as Bellara's words process. Only because she finds it so relatable how quick she is to speak the thoughts that pop into her mind. (It reminds her of a younger version of herself, only in the good ways of course. Bellara doesn't stumble over her thoughts as terribly as Merrill used to, though.) " Well you can only really know that he doesn't know that you know he knows you know if you really pay attention to how much it looks like he knows, you know? " she beams, matching the energy Bellara brings.

In his periphery, the hunched demon blinks at precise intervals to replicate the descriptions in the text, engrossed at how easily the story changes with the flick of the quill — little wonder Spite laments about the laws of physics when it could, once, change the space around it as easy as crossing words on parchment. "There's more to stare than each other's eyes." Yet, he cannot deny the captivating appeal. These windows to the soul so often carefully hidden serving as the centerpiece of the moment. His brows arch, the silence stretching before: "Are you writing a tragedy? Now I expect all of them to die." NO! One victor for the. Ending.