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lia & zev <3

Mother, Let The Kids Go Home

Part of the Alienage Soundscapes series created for @cityelfweek

“I do not know why bann Wulff insisted on venturing down to the docks. I shall never get the smell of fish out of my hair! And before you start on about the need to understand the family business, there was absolutely no business conducted down there. The only thing of interest I saw was an elven dockhand tying down ropes and singing a song. The song was nonsense, of course—but sometimes, I cannot help but wonder if all of these words do not make a sense to them that we know nothing about. Sometimes, it almost feels like they are speaking in a foreign language, but using common words.”

— A letter from Alinor Hester, daughter of a wealthy Denerimian merchant, to her older brother

(Lyrics and song without sound effects under the cut)

Mother, let the kids go home, work is almost over. Give them spice and give them corn, dandelions and clover. Tell them: “Light the fire, love, put water on to boil. Father’s brought a mourning dove, we will eat it with some oil.”

Mother let the kids go home, sun has gone and disappeared. Run before the moons come up, and before the streets are cleared. When the streets are dark and damp, bar the door and windows tight. For the Nightwolf walks around, swallows people out at night.

Mother, let the kids go home, to their bed and blanket warm. Tuck them in and hold them tight, until sunlight brings the morn. Count their heads and kiss their eyes, take them out and let them roam through the streets until it’s dark, and then let your kids go home.

i love them so

ko-fi

while I have nothing new to post have these random old Fenris sketches

Another zevran!

Warden Commander Nienna Surana, at your service.

Day #16: Bonus

Shartan 9

The rebel slaves flee

For twenty days and twenty nights the People ran,

With the footsteps of the legion ever at their backs.

No rest could they find, since their flight from Vol Dorma.

The People cried out in despair:

"Alas, that we ever left Vol Dorma!

Better we had died there than to be hunted like sport on the plains."

Among the People, some began to whisper of returning

To the city and throwing themselves

At the feet of their former masters,

And Shartan heard them.

Shartan rallies the elves

As the People paused to break bread at the foot

Of the hill the Tevinters called "the Lonely One,"

Shartan stood on the hilltop and spoke, saying:

"Some among you wish to flee back to your masters,

To throw yourselves at their feet and ask forgiveness.

You have left that path. It is already gone.

Your feet can never again tread the dust of Vol Dorma.

"He who asks for the mercy of the masters

Will stand accountable for murder and theft

And be made example for the slaves of other cities,

That they might not have the courage to rise up.

"They will taunt you and humiliate you

While they hang you in the marketplace.

They will pelt you with offal while they call you

Broken, a coward, and a failure.

"A dog might slink back to the hand it has bitten

And be forgiven, but a slave never.

If you would live, and live without fear, you must fight."

And the People heard the truth in Shartan's voice,

And some cursed themselves and their fate and despaired.

And others began to fashion spears and bows

From the branches of trees, and girded themselves

With bark and scraps torn from their sandals

And dug pits in the earth with their hands.

The elves ambush the legion

Darkness fell upon the Lonely One,

A night without moon or stars,

As the legion followed, like bloodhounds,

The trail of the rebels.

And when the hunters reached the foot

Of the solitary hill, they found nothing,

The trail of their quarry vanished, as if the People

Had taken wing.

The officers began to curse their men

And blame one another for losing the trail,

And the soldiers fell to bickering among themselves.

In silence all around them, the People crept out

From holes clawed in the earth, and with harvesting blades

And arrows chipped from stones,

Fell upon the unwary legion and slaughtered them to a man.

The elves celebrate their victory

And the People raised the blades of the fallen soldiers to the heavens

And rejoiced. And Shartan said to them:

"No longer are we hunted! We shall never again

Be prey, waiting to be struck down!

Let us take up the blades of our enemies

And carve a place for ourselves in this world!"

The People heard him, and girded themselves

In the armor of the dead

And sharpened their blades and arrows

And prepared for war.

The army of Andraste arrives

As the People danced over the corpses

Of slain soldiers, a thunder filled the air

And the ground trembled, and a hush fell over them,

As they knew a terrible omen had come.

From afar, they heard the sound

Of ten thousand voices raised in song,

And the marching of a great host.

Shartan goes forth to meet the army

Seeing an army beyond counting gathered in the distance,

Shartan said to the People

"Let us not fall into the jaws of the wolf together.

I will go alone and see what army comes,

Singing, to the land of Tevinter."

Across the empty plains Shartan crept

To where the great host camped, the light from countless fires

Guiding him through the darkness.

Then a great hand clamped down upon Shartan's neck,

And he was lifted into the air. And he looked into the eyes

Of a towering creature, taller than any legion soldier, featured like a man

But covered in fur like a beast and bearing a mighty shield.

Havard the Aegis greets Shartan

The creature spoke in a stern voice, saying:

"Why are you to come upon us alone,

Wearing the armor of our most hated foe,

When I can see you are no man of the legion?"

And Shartan answered him: "If you hate the legion,

Then I am your friend."

And the giant laughed, and set him back upon his feet,

Declaring: "Then the Aegis of Alamarri bids you welcome!

Follow me to the side of the Prophet."

Shartan meets Andraste

The Aegis led him to the center of the great host,

And Shartan saw that they counted men and women of all descriptions among them.

Many bore the scars of escaped slaves, and some had come west

From the coastlands, and they stood as equals beside the wild giant men of the South.

There, in the heart of them, sang a Lady radiant

And clad in armor of bright steel.

She paused her song to look upon Shartan,

And said to him: "All souls who take up the sword

Against Tevinter are welcome here.

Rest, and tell us of your battles."

And Shartan told her: "I cannot rest

While the People wait in darkness and fear."

So Andraste sent him with three of her attendants

To invite the People to come to her side.

And the People came, all astonished

To stand among Andraste's followers,

And she gave them food and drink and bade them sit

While Shartan gave her the tale of their uprising

And flight from Val Dorma.

When the tale was finished, Andraste said to Shartan:

"Truly, the Maker has called you, just as He called me,

To be a Light for your People.

The host you see before you march,

Bearing His will north, where we shall deliver it

To Minrathous city of magisters, and we shall tear down

The unassailable gates, and set all slaves free."

And Shartan looked upon the Prophet Andraste

And said: "The People will set ourselves free.

Your host from the South may march

Alongside us.

The giants of the South rose to their feet as one

And bowed. And Andraste said:

"It is done. We march as one."

—Shartan 9:1-9:28, Dissonant Verse

Shartan 10

The armies clash on Valarian Fields

At Shartan's word, the sky

Grew black with arrows.

At Our Lady's, ten thousand swords

Rang from their sheaths.

A great hymn rose over Valarian Fields gladly, proclaiming:

Those who had been slaves were now free.

The legion fell before them

Like wheat before the scythe,

But the armies of Tevinter were numberless,

A sea of death which crashed upon

The Prophet and her army like waves.

Shartan rescues Andraste

The host of the Lady

Began to falter. The legion

Turned spear and sword, fire

And ice upon them, and the warriors

Of the Prophet were scattered,

Divided from their commanders

By magic, penned like cattle for slaughter.

Shartan saw that walls of ice

Surrounded Andraste and her warriors,

And he rallied the People.

And with arrows aflame,

The walls of magic melted

And the Prophet and her warriors were free.

Andraste names Shartan her champion

And the Prophet stood beside Shartan

And shouted to her host:

"Behold! Our champion!"

And gave to him the blade of her own mother

From her own scabbard, Glandivalis, saying:

"Take this, my champion,

And free our people forever."

And the Prophet and the People

Struck down the mages of the legion

And claimed the field together.

And before them, empty,

Outstretched lay the land

Which led to the gates of Minrathous.

—Shartan 10:1-10:7, Dissonant Verse

Currently replaying Origins! Hachi Tabris I missed you 

Zev and a warden surana