Happy Friday Aster!!! Intrigued By ❛ I Look At You And My Heart Breaks Because All I See Is Loneliness.

"I am many things: a murderer, a thief, a lover. But I am no cheat." - Zevran Arainai, DA:O

City Elf Appreciation Week

~ 5th of August - 11th of August ~

Here are some optional prompts for next week! Please feel free to do whatever you like with them. Remember to tag @cityelfweek or use the tag #cityelfweek24!

Day 1 - Vhenadahl - A pillar of many alienage communities. Firewood in others.

Day 2 - Folklore - Show the folklore that city elves have created over time. Superstitions, stories, heroes, villains... anything!

Day 3 - Community - Close-knit family, or claustrophobic little box?

Day 4 - Custom and Tradition - Andrastian? Dalish? Somewhere in between, or something all new?

Day 5 - Alienage - The only home many city elves ever know.

Day 6 - OC - A day to celebrate original city elf characters!

Day 7 - Free Day - All things city elf!

[original post][divider credit]

i love them so

ko-fi

Keeping your head down is the best way to achieve the next-best thing to safety in the Kirkwall alienage. Some neighbors are better at it than others, and sometimes, an elf will need a little extra help to keep attention off her.

(AKA. Assorted members of the Kirkwall alienage do their best to not put their resident Dalish neighbor in harm's way. 845 words.)

i've been a bit busy these past few weeks, but i can finally write again and have churned out a late quick little kirkwall-centric piece for @cityelfweek 's community prompt! i've a small handful of other projects bubbling in the doc, so hopefully i'll manage 2 or 3 more before the event is run ^_^

The Assassin - Huevember day 3

i really love her design 😳

The Rose on My Cheek

Part of the Alienage Soundscapes series created for @cityelfweek

WANTED ALIVE for the murder of ser Bern and lady Emmeline Farthin of Edgehall: the elf Falma of Edgehall, scullery maid at lady Emmeline's estate. 5’3”, brown hair and eyes, brown skin, about 20 years of age. Reward: 100 sovereigns.

— Wanted poster in the market square of Edgehall

(Lyrics and song without sound effects under the cut)

A rose on my cheek sits since yesterday morn. A wardog has placed it, the rose had a thorn. The rose has a red crown and a red dress torn, the thorn a cruel gauntlet with gold rings adorned.

There’s violets singing all over my chest. A lapdog has placed them where it thought was best. From green spring the violets, from pink and from blue, and yellow among them, and bold purple too.

A foxglove has just found its way to my hands. It came from the gardens that grow on my lands. It’s meant for the lapdog and the dog of war, it will find them soon when I’m under the floor.

The floor it is sprouting all flowers, like spring. The flowers, they make such a colourful ring. They care not for war dogs or lapdogs no more, they need not to watch them or keep any score.

headcanon time - Lennan’s tattoos

(Copy pasted from a discord chat - so some of you have seen it already.)

The ‘crow’s wing’ tattoo is a symbol of the 'night guardian’ or 'watcher’ - a figure from the elven folklore: the keeper of secrets, the hoarder of whispers and the brother to the dead. Basically an amalgamation of the goth duo - Dirthamen and Falon'din. Linked to birds, good and bad luck, night and shadows. Can be both benevolent and capricious. Cruel, even. One eye in the waking world, the other in the Fade. You have to pass through his eyes to cross the Veil after you die. And if he doesn’t like what he sees, his Fade eye glazes over instead of showing you the way and you get trapped in the Fade forever and turn into something ugly and mean. 'May the watcher’s eye go green/dim/murky/piss/shut/stinky/rotten on ya’ is one of the many curses you may hear if you piss off a Denerim elf.  Gang thugs who get night guardian tattoos usually do it  a) to have the watcher’s protection, b) to be cool - because getting that much ink around your eyes is a pretty badass thing to pull off.  But Lenn actually likes the watcher a lot. Some of the best, spookiest alienage stories revolve around him.

City Elf Appreciation Week- Day 2 - Folklore (and history)

Day 2 - Folklore (and history) for @cityelfweek

- Show the folklore that city elves have created over time. Superstitions, stories, heroes, villains... anything!

“Did yah hear! Did yah hear!”

“Hear what Lani?”

“The bride spirit! The bride spirit killed all the snooty shem up in the castle!!”

“That’s nonsense, Lani. Spirits aren’t real.”

“They are too Peytor!”

“Yeah, well why are you only just telling me about this ‘bride spirit’ if they’re real? Hmm? I bet you don’t even know what they look like.” Peytor rolled his eyes and pretended to humour his young cousin, her eyes wide and cheeks flushed with a mix of agitation and childlike wonder.

“I d-d-do too! She’s super pretty! Prettier than Mamae!” The little girl fisted her tiny hands in her penefor, stomping her feet.

“Oh yeah?” Unimpressed, Peytor grabbed a stick and started to scratch patterns in the dirt.”What do they look like then, that you’d risk Aunties wrath?”

“She’s beautiful! Her eyes are red like my bird's favorite berries! And her hair is so hot it’s on fire!”

“So she’s a wrath demon?”

“Nuh-uh! She’s vengeance, Peytor! And her wedding dress is so pretty and sparkly, nothing can make it dirty!” Lani was twirling her own dress, its dirtiness forgotten in the fantasy.

“If she killed all them shem, how is she still clean? That doesn’t make sense, dummy.” Peytor’s drawing was taking shape. Fiery hair, big ol eyes. Fangs.

“She’s a bride, duh, they’re always clean and pretty. BUT!” Lani jumped, arms raised, little hands waving pudgy fingers. “Everywhere she walks she leaves a trail of shem blood!” the little girl grinned, her eyes scrunched up in little girl glee, her ears pricked up in excitement.

“That’s gross, Lani” he laughed, scribbling more waves of blood onto his dirt doodle.

“Is not, she’s beautiful~” The girl giggled again. 

As a couple of adults walked by,  Peytor pulled his cousin out of the way. Glancing at them, an elven woman with crimson eyes caught his, winking once, before looping her arm around her companion and going on their way.

Artifacts of Thedas

A set of 40 writing/art prompts situated in the Dragon Age universe:

A vial of lyrium; one drop remains

Crushed elfroot leaves

A freshly painted vhenadahl

A mage’s staff, splintered in the center

A Joining cup, its lip badly dented

Two handprints on an aravel

A Crow’s dagger, sticky with drying blood

A basket full of embrium and blood lotus

Dracolisk scales

A shard of mirrored glass that reflects a different sky

Avvar furs, warm before the fire

A book of Tevene grammar, open on a table

A partially melted statue of Andraste

Volume of Koslun’s teachings, the page edges soft and worn

A meticulously clean elven mosaic

Bronze statuette of the Champion, polished by handling

An Inquisition banner, mended many times over

Lyrium dust suspended in a clear fluid

A pendant of a Paragon

An empty nug cage

An unstrung bow that whispers when touched

A set of leather armor with bolt holes in the shoulder

A plaque denoting the Hero of Ferelden’s birthplace

Halla fur caught on tree bark

An empty chest with scratch marks around the lock 

A letter with a broken seal; the wax is stamped with a familiar symbol

A small pot of kaddis, partially used

A handful of werewolf teeth

A sketch marked with the symbol of the Shaperate

Party favor from an alienage wedding

A Satinalia mask

A palm frond from Seheron

Orlesian shoes with jeweled buckles

A hand mirror, its glass irreparably shattered

A Rivaini amulet on a golden chain

Templar armor, marked by lightning

A cask of ale from Orzammar

Sketchbook marked with a griffon insignia

A doll dressed in an Antivan gown

Tiny cakes that taste like melancholy