Posts Tagged 'varric tethras'


Quick sketch.
Trying to draw them from memory


it takes about a week of following the hawke sisters around for varric to finally see the older one smile.

even at his most charming, the most he gets out of her at first is a shift from surly and suspicious to what would be called “neutral” on anyone else’s face, though bethany assures him it’s a good sign from her sister.

“i think she decided if she seemed unfriendly to everyone, they’d leave us alone and wouldn’t look too closely at father and i,” bethany confessed to him once, while a few steps away hawke frowned thoughtfully over the lowtown swordsmith’s booth. “but she’s really kind, i promise.”

they’re in hightown later when bethany says, “i had a twin brother, carver.”

varric is no good at vulnerabilities, his own or other people’s; if he can pass a joke off over them he does, and if he can’t he just ignores them and leaves the ‘dealing with’ for another time. bethany’s a sweet kid, and varric can tell she’s still grieving. she doesn’t deserve to have her pain ignored, so maybe he can make her smile instead.

“i’m sorry about your brother,” he says sincerely, then, “do you want mine? i’ve got a spare.”

bethany shakes her head and huffs a little laugh, which varric is willing to count as a win, then turns to glance over hubert’s overpriced goods to hide her face.

when varric glances up at marian, she’s watching them with an expression so foreign on her it takes him a moment to realize it’s a smile of her own. “thank you,” she says, softly enough that bethany doesn’t seem to notice.

after that, she frowns a lot less around him.


Varric might be my favorite DA character, so I was happy to get a chance to draw him thanks to @reignitedn7 commissioning this picture :> Thank you!



janiemcpants replied to your post:

Hello! I hope you don’t mind me asking, but I was…

The entire fact that Varric finds Sebastian boring is odd to me. Sure, he might be dull NOW (even though he isn’t), but his past should appeal to him, right? What sensational writer could resist a prince in exile with a mysterious, checkered past?

To say nothing of the brutally murdered family, the search for justice (or vengeance), the ability to cling to faith… to see good in a world that’s done its best to heap shit upon shit upon shit…

I sometimes wonder, and this is a wacky theory that may hold no real weight, whether there’s something about Sebastian that actually makes Varric deeply uncomfortable and that’s why he retaliates and dislikes the way he does. As a kind of armor? Or defensiveness?

I mean, when you think about it, Varric and Sebastian actually have a lot in common. They’re youngest sons of important families (merchant and nobility, but still; Varric’s family were noble in Orzammar). They’re both archers. They’re both rogues. They’ve got weird family relationships and dynamics going on. They actually both really do enjoy helping people. Depending on how one untangles the mess of the DA2 timeline, it’s possible they’re actually closer in age than, say, Varric and Hawke. They’re also the characters who’ve spent the most time in Kirkwall, and have the closest connections there, and the strongest ties.

Keep reading

I tried to put this in a reply and immediately went over the word limit. Story of my life


But. While I completely agree with all this, I will say that listening to the actual in-game intonation of that particular banter, it seems like Sebastian is sort of… coyly saying it. Being truthful, yes, but… not revealing everything all the same. And also add to the fact that Varric more than likely does find Sebastian’s past very interesting. And probably very odd that he would be so… up front about it. I almost feel like Varric is jealous that Sebastian’s come to terms with (metaphorical) demons that he most definitely hasn’t. Despite the fact that Sebastian’s got a lot of other things to work through and come to terms with/own up to, but Varric might not… even see that? 

Perhaps he’s hung up on the fact that this other person, who really is so very much like him in probably far too many ways, has been able to deal with issues that Varric hasn’t been able to–maybe never even tried? Even the ones he knows he should, that hang around his neck like an albatross–and it just stirs this… negative sentiment?

Why would Sebastian reveal all these mistakes about himself and his past readily when asked about it, when Varric doesn’t? Why would Sebastian just simply tell the truth about those things, when Varric doesn’t? Why would Sebastian try to move on from his past, all the while acknowledging it and the mistakes he made, when Varric doesn’t?

Sometimes I feel like this is a case of Varric looking at Sebastian and seeing a mirror of himself, except it’s the person he could have been, if he’d chosen a different path, even though he enjoys what he does (because there is no doubt that Varric immensely enjoys what he does), he also wants to have chosen that other path. Either that, or he wants Sebastian to have not chosen that other path and not inadvertently caused Varric to feel bad about his own life decisions. Or maybe both.

Dragon Age doesn’t know what century it’s in




So, what I think I miss most about Dragon Age: Origins is the way it felt consistently medieval.  Not completely, they brought in things from a lot of different cultures, and in fact, even managed to make up some of their own, but it was all woven into this framework of a series of different civilizations where the cultural fabric in all communities was membership to the same religion.  You had your outliers, to be certain–your pagan Dalish, your isolated dwarves, your foreign Qunari, but if you were part of what the Chantry would deem “civilization,” you probably went to your Chantry on a regular basis, even if you didn’t believe what they taught, because that’s where you got your news.  They even reinforce this mechanically with the Chanters’ boards.  (Something that notably disappears in Inquisition, when they really move away from this idea.)

In other words, it looks a lot like the actual Middle Ages, a lot more than “medieval fantasy” normally does, because it actually recognizes the role of religion as a keeper and transmitter of consistent culture.  More amazingly, its analog of the Roman Catholic Church isn’t automatically demonized… in a 21st century video game.  I was gobsmacked.  Sure, they definitely were much more of the “we must do this this and this to get the Maker to love us,” but that’s about what I expect from a religion that doesn’t teach that its slain founder was resurrected.

And even then, we get people like Leliana, who, despite all evidence to the contrary, believe the Maker is still working and still loving people.  (“Cool,” I immediately think.  "When this is over, can I have Leliana start a Reformation?“)

The problem is, in subsequent games Bioware started playing around a lot more with different cultures in space and time, which is completely fine.  But in later games, they didn’t make the same efforts to fit them in together with everything else.  Which is why I say Dragon Age doesn’t know what century it’s in.

So I finish Origins completely in love with Thedas and its culture.  It feels like a fully realized world, and if it draws heavily from fantasy tropes, that’s perfectly fine.  They’re still putting their own twist on them.

Then I start playing 2, and I run into this guy:

Keep reading

The fact that the masses are not illiterate has always puzzled me a little too. In Origins I assumed they were–I could see nobles being educated, but every one else? I mean, I think it’s made pretty evident in the first game that the education Alistair receives as part of templar training or the education that a mage receives are not the standard that every citizen of Ferelden can expect. Even Leliana kind of justifies her education when she talks about being raised by Lady Cecilie. And then along comes Dragon Age 2, and, no, apparently everyone but Fenris can read.

I really love your hypothetical situation with Varric. It’s 9/10s of the way to actually being a fic. It wants to be a fic. I want it to be a fic. It’s a beautiful explanation of how to reconcile the existence of fiction in Thedas.

Oh, this is fascinating and so clever.

So Varric blurs the lines, but rather than in the sublime way that you expect from high fantasy, it’s very mundane.  It almost invites skepticism, rather than wonder […] the cynical, bitter darkness of 2 is so different from the bleak, elegaic darkness of Origins and Trespasser.  It feels almost painfully modern.  (And I’m still not really sure how “dark” vanilla Inquisition ever got, when the worst things that happened were either inside your own head thanks to a demon or got erased thanks to, “magical time travel, go with it.”)

Yes. That is exactly why DA2 didn’t work that well for me, and I’m so glad someone put it better than I could have. I enjoy things like Hard in Hightown and the genre-blending metacommentary – they’re a major part of my love for Dragon Age – but you’ve got to play to some of the rules to bend them. (I actually love the “reading peasantry” thing and find it a welcome change, but it’s certainly not historically accurate.) DA plays with things like the nature of mythology, grand themes…. the human characters work because they’re placed against such an epic, unknowable background.

And the theory of how novels got off the ground is fantastic.

You should do Sigrun and Varric for your banters!


Varric: Hey Stiff, you’re pretty spry for a dead girl.
Sigrun: And you’re pretty beardless for a dwarf. You know what they say about looks being deceiving.
Varric: You’ve got me there. 
Sigrun: Speaking of deceiving, here, you can have your coin purse back.
Varric: Hey, wait just a-
Sigrun: I thought for a merchant you’d have more coin on you.
Varric: You learn not to carry much coin when you spend a lot of time around Isabela.

Varric: Hey Stiff, if I write a book about you, would it be considered a eulogy?
Sigrun: Oh, because I’m dead right? Very original.
Sigrun: Oh! Oh! When you write it, be sure to emphasize how scary I am. Intimidating tattoos, sharp daggers, you know.
Varric: Your unkempt hair, your breath that can stop darkspawn in their tracks. Got it.
Sigurn: Mean. 


da goes broadway: part 3

the lion king // can you feel the love tonight

ft. nug the mabari 


Viscount Tethras takes a day.

It is quite unusual, and people take notice. He rises early, armed with a sheaf of notes, and heads towards the markets. He stops at every smithy along the way – good smiths, some of the best from the Davri workshops that came to aid his city when they needed laborers – and gives each of them a single task. He stays to explain what he can, working with each carefully before moving to the next.

Bran asks, because it is Bran’s job to ask, and Varric explains the plan – to create a new repeating crossbow, partially based on the old designs but with significant improvements learned from his time in the Inquisition. He smiles, outlining his reasons for the individual tasks – if no single smith sees the full design, no single smith can recreate it, and the competition was fierce in the city but alliances could be made. The Viscount pays them well for it, which buys him a protected design. And, of course, the last part was being made half the world away, just to be on the safe side.

It takes a month for the pieces to arrive at his desk, and another week to assemble, but the day it is finished he writes a letter to his love – halfway across the world, rebuilding her order in peace – and puts the crossbow to good use against bandits on the road into his city. The weapon is good, striking true, and he goes out every day for a fortnight to defend his people and their lands. Every day for a fortnight, the Viscount protects his flock.

Until a lone rider appears, and he smiles as the Seeker swings down from her horse to regard him and his weapon.

“That,” she says finally, “is new.”

“Yes it is. Do you like it? Designed her myself.”

“She certainly seems formidable.” She smiles, a finger trailing over the black lacquer. “What happened to -”

“The past,” he says firmly. “This is the future. My future.”

“I see.”

“Go on, ask.” He grins. “I know you want to.”

She laughs. “Fine. What is her name?”

He strokes the handle lovingly. “Cassandra,” he murmurs.

She raises an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“No. Cassandra,” he stresses, and she stills, the surprise all over her face.

“Oh,” she breathes, and then she laughs. “Oh, Varric.”

“Like I said. My future – if you’ll have me.”

It is hardly the most conventional proposal, but then the Viscount and his Seeker were hardly conventional people.


“We can’t exactly put the same ruffians back now… However…”

“I do believe Fenris saw a shady looking bunch of fellows on the way here.”

“I’m sure Isabella could make friends rather quickly.”

“We can work something out.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

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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