Posts Tagged 'dragon age fanfiction'

The Acknowledged!AU

celeritassagittae:

As a self-avowed connoisseuse (read: junkie) of the
Alistair/Warden ship tag on AO3, I thought I’d talk a little about a distinct subcategory
of Alistair fan fiction that I find really fascinating because, so far as I can
tell, a number of people have decided to explore the same premise independently of
one another.  It’s what I call, for lack
of a better term, the Acknowledged!AU.

There are almost as many variations on the premise as there
are fics that explore it, so I’m going to go with a definition that’s a little
on the broad side: an Acknowledged!AU is one in which Alistair is an
acknowledged member of the royal family before
the Fifth Blight starts
(this includes Blightless AUs, since the Blight
never starts in one of those).  He can be
acknowledged from birth, rescued before he gets sent off to the templars, or
hastily removed from them because Cailan happened to die off early.  I think I’ve seen one where he’s still a
templar, but none where he’s a Grey Warden at the start of the story.

Keep reading

First Lines Meme

Tagged by @therealmnemo for a writerly meme:

List the first lines of your last 20 stories. See if there
are any patterns. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

  1. “This is it?” Metis asked, glancing around at the small
    collection of monuments outside the city limits. (Ave
    Atque Vale
    )
  2. Varania returned to a tavern in disarray. (Beneficium
    Accipere
    )
  3. “Well,” said the voice Fenris least expected to hear on this
    job, from the place he least expected to find her. “Fancy meeting you here.” (Quis
    Custodiet Ipsos Custodes
    , which is technically still a WIP until I figure out what to do with its final chapter)
  4. When the moment arrives, the signs are evident and all
    preparations are in place. (Sapling)
  5. Dust flew, as feet bare and booted pounded across Skyhold’s
    training circle. (Hawkquistion Part 4: Warriors Such
    As
    )
  6. The years have not been kind, but we have been kind to each
    other. (Oak and Linden)
  7. It has plagued him as long as he can remember, the question
    that can never be answered. (Nosce Te Ipsum)
  8. “It’s only rain, Hawke,” Fenris sniffs when she balks at the
    open doorway. (OTP
    prompt 29, Which one holds the umbrella over both of them when it rains?
    )
  9. Carver Hawke hated being compared to his elder sister. (OTP
    prompt 15, Which one screams about the spider and which one brings the spider
    outside?)
  10. “You have pretty eyes,” Hawke hears Isabela purr,
    distracting Fenris from whatever he was trying to ask her. (Oculus Animi Index)
  11. There is a moment when Merrill’s heart skips a beat and she
    thinks, Oh. And she thinks, I love him. And, when did
    that happen?
    (Principia
    Parva Sunt
    )
  12. He blames himself. (Cineri Gloria Sera Est)
  13. What madness has overtaken Serah Hawke? (Amantes Sunt Amentes)
  14. It’s been a long day. (Lights Out)
  15. Three times Carver started to walk away from the door. (Placebo)
  16. “P..p…pa…” The boy’s breath stirred his dark
    hair away from his eyes as each repetition of the syllable grew more forceful
    with his frustration. (Paradox)
  17. The mabari had taken to following Varric around. (Hawkquisition
    Part 3: Patchwork Families
    )
  18. “Really, my dear,” the former First Enchanter drawled in her
    superior tone of voice, “you’re little better than a hedge mage, aren’t you? (Hawkquisition
    Part 2: The Apostate’s Templar
    )
  19. “Still a day or so till we hit the Imperial highway at
    Montfort, my lady,” the Warden recruit said all too cheerfully as Lisbet Hawke
    scraped yet more of the mud of the Nahashin Marshes from her boot. (Hawkquisition
    Part 1: To Remain at Your Side
    )

And apparently those 19 are all the Dragon Age stories I
have yet written! Actually I’m kind of surprised it came that close to 20…I am
easily distracted from things I intend to write. 😦 So for slot 20, I could
give you the first line of one of my much older LOTRO stories…or I could give
you the first line of the current WIP. Let’s go with the WIP, a story titled “Stray”,
since that is a Dragon Age story. And I’m just gonna include the whole first
paragraph since you can’t yet click a link to read the whole rest of this one!

20. Imagine: You are eight years old. Smaller than the other
boys your age, perhaps, but stronger and quicker too; you’ve been training with
a bow since your first birthday, claims Uncle Varric, and Aunt Isabela promises
a knife for your tenth birthday, no matter how Da scowls and Mum argues with
her when she says so. You’ve scuffled with children bigger than yourself and
come out unscathed (at least until Mum found out), so you’re sure you can
handle the knife. Aunt Merrill’s been teaching you to find your way in the
wilderness, too, and you could make the trip to Sundermount all on your own if
Da would allow it.

So now I’m supposed to see if there are any patterns? Hm…well,
only 7 of the 20 open with dialogue. Exactly half of them are in present tense
and half in past tense, which is interesting because I never really wrote
stories in present tense before starting on Dragon Age fic, I don’t think. I
guess I have taken to that technique more than I realized. (It also doesn’t
quite count for #20 because the story does not continue in present tense after
the first few paragraphs which are sort of setting the scene…) One of the
stories opens in first person (Oak and Linden) and one in second person (the
WIP, but that also doesn’t quite count because it goes back to third person
after that first few paragraphs…you’ll see soon, I hope!), but overwhelmingly
third person is my preferred voice. I don’t usually like reading stories in
first or second person either, so I do use them sparingly, only when the story
really seems to demand it. In both those cases, actually, I had started writing
the first draft in third person as usual and it just wasn’t working out. I
switched to first person for Oak and Linden, and I added that second person
intro for Stray, and it clicked. That was how those particular stories needed
to be told.

And now to tag some people! @theherocomplex @lyriumrebel @kaerwrites @jawsandbones @quinnlocke @lypreila @slothquisitor
@spirrum @glyphron-dragon-age @servantofclio – if you wish to, have at it! Don’t feel
obligated to list 20 stories or to sit it out if you don’t have that many,
either…I mean I had to round it out with either a WIP or a really old fic, so
do what works for you! Open tag to anyone else who wants to do this as well,
feel free to claim a tag from me.

A Writing Game: Prompt by Committee

rannadylin:

Let’s play a prompt game! I like to call it “Prompt By
Committee.”

Here’s how it works:

  1. To play, message me with ONE thing you want me
    to include in a story.
  2. It could be an object…a specific character, be
    it NPC or OC… a place…just about anything.
  3. For example, the last time I played this, when writing
    LOTRO fanfic
    , I got suggestions such as “a haunted mirror,” “Barliman
    Butterbur,” and “Dragons!”
  4. Maybe you want to suggest something that you
    would just love to see a story about—or maybe your suggestion is as silly as “a
    mean-spirited slug” with the goal of making the story more interesting as I
    have to work to fit it in. 🙂
  5. For every three
    words I get from three different people, I’ll write a short fic that has to
    include all three of those elements.

That’s it! I look forward to seeing your suggestions…and figuring out how to make them fit together!

Working on the first committee fic with the first three prompts now thanks to @barbex and @servantofclio and @quinnlocke

And the more I ponder and brainstorm and plot out how to make those three fit together, the more this thing evolves from the expected short fic into what might be an intro to a post-Trespasser longfic I had been wanting to write and yet had no real plot for…

So um. Guess it might be time to do something about that longfic plot, huh?

(Also this is a reminder that I’m still doing this prompt game and you’re welcome to send me an ask or reply to this post with an element to include in another such fic! Multiple asks from the same person are welcome too; I won’t use more than one from the same person in one fic but will gladly put your extra asks towards another fic. 😀 Who knows, maybe the next committee fic will ALSO fit into this mysterious longfic of mine…hehe!)

A Writing Game: Prompt by Committee

rannadylin:

Let’s play a prompt game! I like to call it “Prompt By
Committee.”

Here’s how it works:

  1. To play, message me with ONE thing you want me
    to include in a story.
  2. It could be an object…a specific character, be
    it NPC or OC… a place…just about anything.
  3. For example, the last time I played this, when writing
    LOTRO fanfic
    , I got suggestions such as “a haunted mirror,” “Barliman
    Butterbur,” and “Dragons!”
  4. Maybe you want to suggest something that you
    would just love to see a story about—or maybe your suggestion is as silly as “a
    mean-spirited slug” with the goal of making the story more interesting as I
    have to work to fit it in. 🙂
  5. For every three
    words I get from three different people, I’ll write a short fic that has to
    include all three of those elements.

That’s it! I look forward to seeing your suggestions…and figuring out how to make them fit together!

A Writing Game: Prompt by Committee

rannadylin:

Let’s play a prompt game! I like to call it “Prompt By
Committee.”

Here’s how it works:

  1. To play, message me with ONE thing you want me
    to include in a story.
  2. It could be an object…a specific character, be
    it NPC or OC… a place…just about anything.
  3. For example, the last time I played this, when writing
    LOTRO fanfic
    , I got suggestions such as “a haunted mirror,” “Barliman
    Butterbur,” and “Dragons!”
  4. Maybe you want to suggest something that you
    would just love to see a story about—or maybe your suggestion is as silly as “a
    mean-spirited slug” with the goal of making the story more interesting as I
    have to work to fit it in. 🙂
  5. For every three
    words I get from three different people, I’ll write a short fic that has to
    include all three of those elements.

That’s it! I look forward to seeing your suggestions…and figuring out how to make them fit together!

My Stories

rannadylin:

Master list of the Hawkquisition series, to be updated when new stories are added:

Part I: To Remain at Your Side

Hawke arrives at Skyhold without her Fenris? Surely he didn’t willingly let her go off alone. So she must have left without telling him. He’s not going to be pleased when he finds out! This is what happens next, as Hawke travels to Weisshaupt, reuniting along the way with her lover, family, friends, and the Inquisition itself…

Read it at: DeviantArt  |  FF.net  |  AO3

image

Part II: The Apostate’s Templar

Carver escapes the red lyrium-tainted templars of Kirkwall by escorting Merrill as she leads a ragtag group of elven refugees away from the Free Marches. In Ferelden, they uncover a source of red lyrium; the Inquisition investigates and Hawke insists on coming along.

Read it at: DeviantArt  |  FF.net  |  AO3

image

Part III: Patchwork Families

Merrill’s patchwork clan has grown and they return with Hawke to Skyhold just in time for the baby to be born. Meanwhile, Skyhold is abuzz with preparations for Divine Victoria’s coronation and the Inquisitor’s wedding – but danger lurks amidst the festivities…

Read it at: DeviantArt  |  FF.net  |  AO3

image

Part IV: Warriors Such As (Tumblr Masterpost)

Fenris was once told that even in the Imperium, warriors with markings of his sort were rare – with the implication that he is not unique. When the Inquisition learns of a group of Venatori creating warriors marked like Fenris, but with red lyrium, Hawke may have to take her turn being the one left behind while Fenris travels into danger to help the Inquisitor investigate.

Read it at: DeviantArt  |  FF.net  |  AO3  

image

Drabbles and One-Shots

  • Paradox: Fenris/Lisbet Hawke. Teaching their son to read, a vocabulary lesson calls for an example closer to home.
  • Placebo: Carver/Merrill. Kirkwall’s templars are taking red lyrium; Carver seeks out Merrill for help.
  • Lights Out: Fenris/Lisbet Hawke. On bedtime habits.
  • Amantes Sunt Amentes: Fenris and Lisbet are lunatics in love. (Takes place between chapter 1 and 2 of To Remain at Your Side, listed above.)
  • Principia Parva Sunt: Merrill tries to identify the beginning of her falling in love with Carver, but beginnings are too small to bother with. (Concurrent with The Apostate’s Templar)
  • Cineri Gloria Sera Est: What if Hawke had not survived the Arishok duel? Fenris blames himself…
  • Oculus Animi Index: Hawke is obsessed with Fenris’ eyes. (Aren’t we all, a little?)
  • OTP prompt 15 for Carver and Merrill: 

    Which one screams about the spider and which one brings the spider outside?

  • OTP Prompt 29 for Fenris and Hawke: 

    Which one holds the umbrella over both of them when it rains?

  • Oak and Linden: Fenris/F!Hawke. For AU day of Fenhawke Week 2,

    A tale and a translation from Ovid’s Metamorphoses: the myth of Baucis and Philemon in the persons of Hawke and Fenris, in their retirement.

  • Nosce Te Ipsum: Fenris/F!Hawke. Hawke’s role in Fenris’ path to self-discovery. Podficced too!
  • Sapling: Metis prepares for the birth of his granddaughter. (Fenris/Hawke)
  • Quis Custodiet Ipsos Custodes (WIP, ¾ chapters posted): Fenris/F!Hawke, married with children and still getting into trouble.
  • Beneficium Accipere Libertatem Est Vendere: Fenris/F!Hawke as seen by Varania when Hawke and Varric persuade her to stay in Kirkwall and try meeting with her brother again
  • Ave Atque Vale: A preview of Hawkquisition part 5 or a one-shot that fits somewhere after it, depending on how part 5 goes when I actually get it written…This features Varania bringing Metis to Mara’s grave, mourning, closure. It is a sad.

quinnlocke:

writersofthedas:

image

It’s WIP Wednesday! Make Cassandra happy and reblog with 5 sentences from your current Dragon Age WIP. You know you want to!

September came through Ferelden and painted the leaves from
green to hues of red and gold. The air was crisp with the promise of an early
winter. A clean and cool autumn wind danced throughout the city of Denerim,
catching the leaves and sending them swirling about. It was a picture of
perfection in nature. Fenris stared at the symphony from his hotel window,
hating it with every fiber of his being.

“Sorry I couldn’t find you sooner,” Metis said, reaching past leaves to extract a keyring from one guard’s belt, while the men struggled against their unnatural bonds of nature and grimaced at the mage. “Varric’s keeping the marquis and his entourage occupied, but as soon as I tried to slip away, some guest mistook me for a servant and demanded wine.” He grinned up at Hawke as he unlocked her cell, then Fenris’. “Since I was, in fact, acting the part of a servant and relying upon my ears to get me through the estate without drawing attention, it took me some time to disengage. Everything all right here?”

Fic Recs anyone?

purr-o-saurus-rex:

Specifically Fenhawke

I did a Fenhawke (mostly f!hawke but one m!hawke) rec post a while back here: http://rannadylin.tumblr.com/post/137023662106/fic-rec-days

And I write a lot of f!hawke/fenris myself, gathered here: http://rannadylin.tumblr.com/post/120477871456/my-stories

Hawkquisition 5 Preview: Ave Atque Vale

So I’m still in early planning stages for the next installment of the Hawkquisition series, but a week ago an idea for a scene that simply must occur sometime in that storyline struck me so strongly that I wanted to get it written out while it was yet fresh. Being wary of spoilers, I’ll just mention that part 5 will involve Varania, and at some point they’ll end up in Tevinter because…ah wait, the rest is spoilery (if you haven’t read Warriors Such As yet or don’t know who Metis actually is…) so here is a cut!

Yes, so, I wanted a chance for Metis to visit Mara’s grave – his wife, who along with Varania was sold into slavery separately from him while also pregnant with Leto. I like happy endings, you know, but there’s no way around the fact that Varania’s mother died before she reunited however briefly with Fenris in DA2, and that Metis hadn’t found any of his lost family by that point, so it will always be too late for him to find Mara again while she’s alive.

So we’re visiting her grave, because I wanted to give him a chance at closure.

This is a rough draft that will probably end up reworked to some extent once there’s a longfic to fit it into, but it made me cry and so I must share it now as is. 🙂 I would love to hear your thoughts on it!


“This is it?” Metis asked, glancing around at the small
collection of monuments outside the city limits. It wasn’t the Grand Cemetery
where the magisters buried their generations of too-powerful ancestors, but
even here the mausolea loomed to impress over their heads.

A snort of derision drew his attention back to Varania at
his side. “None of those. Did you think we could have afforded such nonsense?”

“I didn’t mean –” He looked back at one of the tombs,
shaped in concentric layers like an elaborate cake. The scrolls carved along
its edges resembled frosting as well. Perhaps it was the tomb of a particularly
well-off baker. “They are rather ridiculous, aren’t they?” he mused.

“This way,” Varania said, tugging him along by his elbow. He
followed his daughter to a doorway set into a building like the standing tombs
around them, but starkly plain in contrast. No filigreed carvings nor
ostentatious etched runes decorated its surface. Beside the door, a single
torch waited, unlit. Varania gestured and brought its flame to life. Metis
allowed himself a faint smile of pride in her magic, since she wasn’t looking.
Varania took the torch and led him down into the darkness.

It was as simple below as it was above, but it was vast. The
underground chamber stretched ahead of them and to both sides of the stairwell,
vanishing into darkness. He followed her, silent as their barefoot steps on the
dusty path, glancing aside to see the niches in the walls, one after another
till he lost count. Low as the passageway was, he counted six rows stacked from
floor to ceiling, the niches open and empty this near the entryway. As they
walked deeper into the catacomb, they passed more and more bricked-up niches,
with plaques bearing simple inscriptions. Nothing like the rows of letters
carved on the tombs aboveground. Surely, he thought, there was more to say of
each life gathered here than such small words could bear.

And then Varania was stopping, running her fingers over one
plaque low to the ground, kneeling to read it by the torchlight. “Here it is,”
she said after a moment, her voice catching. “Mother.”

He knelt beside her, brushing a finger over the roughly
carved plaque. Terracotta – they’d been able to afford something more permanent
than the wooden plaques he saw on some of the spaces, at least. Nothing down
here was marked with metal. In the flickering light he made out the words:

MARAE MATRI
CARISSIMAE

VARANIA F. FEC.

LIBERTAS VERA TE NUNC
TENET

“I thought I would join her here before long,” Varania said
after a moment, indicating an empty niche just beside Mara’s bricks. “I made
payments on that one. For the last of us.” She met his gaze, briefly, and he
wondered if in the torchlight his green eyes looked as golden as hers did now.
Probably. “When she died, I was the last of us, I thought,” Varania explained.

“I know,” he murmured, and for a moment her eyes narrowed.
Anger? He wouldn’t blame her. She had lost her father when she was barely old
enough to speak in full sentences, her brother to a bid for freedom that had
turned sour for them both. But he did
know. He had thought them all lost since the day the slavers came to Seheron.
Finding one another again after the decades had softened the memories was like
reopening old wounds, and all the more so, he guessed, for his little girl, no
longer so little.

She frowned, but before she could speak he asked, “Varania.
Give me a moment alone with her?”

“There’s only one torch,” she pointed out.

“There’s only one path,” he said, his mouth quirking into
half a smile. “I will find the stairs again when I am ready. Please. It has
been –” His breath caught as the numbers, the memories, rushed in on him. “It
has been years. There were things I…hoped to say to her, if I ever found her
again. Even if it’s too late, I still…” He swallowed. “I must.”

After a moment she nodded, but she did not immediately
depart. Shifting nearer to the wall, she bowed her head, resting her forehead
against the bricks, and in the flickering light he thought he saw her lips move
briefly. Then, raising her head, she gathered herself along with the torch,
nodded to him again, and stepped past him to make her way back down the
passage.

He watched her light until it disappeared, waited several
minutes more, carefully removing his spectacles and tucking them into a pocket
of his robe. Then in the devouring darkness Metis bowed his head too, not to
the bricks but all the way to the packed earth beneath his knees, and he wept.
Tears flowed till the ground became muddied with them, and he wept on, a flood
against the tide wall of his heart, dissolving barriers long erected against
the loneliness of his first years of slavery. It had not been safe to miss them as he did at first, so
he’d learned to be content with the happy memories. Memories of his young
family were precious things to be treasured like the odd little collection of
seeds and fruit-pits Varania had insisted on gathering when she was two as if
they were priceless gems, and cheerful memories of just that sort had been all he had allowed himself, content that Mara
and Varania, whether they had survived the raid to be sold as he was or not,
had existed once upon a time, his stars and his sun.

He had not let himself dream that he might ever see them
again, and by the time he had looked for them…it was too late. Bricks and a
plaque were all that was left of his wife, and a brittle, bitter liberati mage had replaced his imperious
and imaginative little girl. She spoke little of what they had gone through,
either before or after Fenris won their freedom against her wishes. His
imagination was all too helpful to fill in the gaps.

However long he wept there, at last the tears trickled to a
stop. With a hiccup he sat up again, drying his eyes with the back of his hand
and then resting a palm against the plaque. “Mara,” he said quietly, and then,
braver, “Mara. I’ve missed you so. And now…now, I miss you even more.”

His eyes stung with tears again, narrowing his throat. When
he had blinked them back, he took a breath and began again. “I am so sorry, my
love, that I return to you so late. That I was not there for you through all
those years. My proud, brave Mara; to think of your head bowed in servitude,
your bright spirit broken…” He swallowed and shook his head. “I couldn’t. I
never could imagine you a slave, even when it was clear the raiders had taken
you. You must have adapted, as did I, but in my memory you were always that
bold girl who would not let anyone else make a decision for her. And do you
know, Mara,” he smiled faintly, shifting from his knees to sit up against the
wall, leaning a shoulder to the plaque and his cheek to the bricks, “that was
the memory that carried me all those years. It’s funny, now, but those few
years we had together stand out more vividly to me than all the decades of
slavery and freedom that followed. You carried me, you know. Just thinking of
you, of the way things were before the raid, you kept me sane through the worst
years.” He closed his eyes with a sigh. “Perhaps I did the same for you. That
would be nice. Oh, but I wish I’d been with you, in person. And the children.
All these years I didn’t even know Varania had a brother, but suddenly, Maker,
here he is, all grown up. And here she is too, barely resembling the little
girl I remembered. Oh, Mara. All alone you had to raise them both. I should
have been there; I’m so sorry I wasn’t.”

Again he shifted, resting a hand against the bricks. “But
here I am now. It doesn’t change the past, but I promise you, I’ll look out for
them now. For Fenris, who doesn’t even remember you – and I think he can’t
hardly be the same Leto you knew him as, or at least Varania thinks not – I
shall give him what I can of my memories. He takes after you, you know, your
pride and your cleverness. As does Varania. I think she cannot have always been
this bitter – she lost so much, her father, her brother, her mother, even the
security of her master’s house – but she always was this stubborn.” He chuckled and then winced at a thought: “They
must have been impossible, raising two such bull-headed children at once. Even now
they bicker like –” He shook his head. “Well. There is trust growing there
again. I shall tend it as best I can. They’re strong, Mara, and they do you
credit despite all they’ve suffered.” He smiled then, straightening to face the
bricked niche. “Thank you. You were the brightest dream of my heart, Mara, and
more than I ever deserved. I will look after our children now, dearest. Rest
easy.”

He pressed a final kiss to the wall with a whisper of, “And
now, in aeternum, cor meum, ave atque
vale.
” Then, rising slowly and pausing to stretch joints weary from his
vigil, he turned to retrace his steps down the dark passage and out into the
light where Varania awaited.


Latin-as-Tevene interpretations:

MARAE MATRI
CARISSIMAE

VARANIA F. FEC.

LIBERTAS VERA TE NUNC
TENET

“Varania, her
daughter, made this for her dearest mother, Mara. True freedom holds you now.”

in aeternum, cor meum,
ave atque vale

“Forever, my heart, hail and farewell.” (with apologies and deep debt to Catullus)

My Stories

rannadylin:

Master list of the Hawkquisition series, to be updated when new stories are added:

Part I: To Remain at Your Side

Hawke arrives at Skyhold without her Fenris? Surely he didn’t willingly let her go off alone. So she must have left without telling him. He’s not going to be pleased when he finds out! This is what happens next, as Hawke travels to Weisshaupt, reuniting along the way with her lover, family, friends, and the Inquisition itself…

Read it at: DeviantArt  |  FF.net  |  AO3

image

Part II: The Apostate’s Templar

Carver escapes the red lyrium-tainted templars of Kirkwall by escorting Merrill as she leads a ragtag group of elven refugees away from the Free Marches. In Ferelden, they uncover a source of red lyrium; the Inquisition investigates and Hawke insists on coming along.

Read it at: DeviantArt  |  FF.net  |  AO3

image

Part III: Patchwork Families

Merrill’s patchwork clan has grown and they return with Hawke to Skyhold just in time for the baby to be born. Meanwhile, Skyhold is abuzz with preparations for Divine Victoria’s coronation and the Inquisitor’s wedding – but danger lurks amidst the festivities…

Read it at: DeviantArt  |  FF.net  |  AO3

image

Part IV: Warriors Such As (Tumblr Masterpost)

Abstract (description may change once I write the actual story):  
Fenris was once told that even in the Imperium, warriors with markings of his sort were rare – with the implication that he is not unique. When the Inquisition learns of a group of Venatori creating warriors marked like Fenris, but with red lyrium, Hawke may have to take her turn being the one left behind while Fenris travels into danger to help the Inquisitor investigate.

Read it at: DeviantArt  |  FF.net  |  AO3  

image

Drabbles and One-Shots


Blogger Gatherings!



Click the button for reports from the 2010 Spring Blogger Gathering, hosted by Linett of Nimrodel!

Berethron of Brandywine hosted the 2010 Summer Blogmoot.

The Winter Blogmoot was held on December 4, 9 p.m. EST at the home of Telwen of Silverlode.

Next up: The Spring Blogmoot of 2011 shall return to Nimrodel with Tuiliel (Whart, aka user-1027520) hosting! Linett is looking forward to another local moot!

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