Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow.                     In their blood the Maker’s will is written.

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She clears her throat at the top of the steps, hands clasped in front of her and blinking like she just stepped out of a bad dream.

“Leliana.” It sounds like the start to an awkward conversation, and it is, but maybe not for the usual reasons. “How much….do you like nugs.”

She lets it hang in the air for a moment before adding, “I’m being perfectly serious.”

Someone yells in the courtyard, followed by a crash and some colorful swearing. She winces.

“ —Listen, I have a big nug problem and it’s trying to gore the stablehands. I think I made a mistake.”

“A...nug problem?” Whatever the story behind this was, she was sure it had to be interesting to bring the young inquisitor to her in such a panic. 

Her eyebrow raises in suspicion as she hears a telltale crash followed by what can only be men chasing after the aforementioned nugs.

“This sounds urgent. Maybe you can explain how this happened on the way down?” The sister suggested as she started heading towards the stairs leading to the main hall, not really waiting for her guest to follow her. 

Reblog with a list of muses you're considering

andraste, blackwall, tranquil oc, alphys from undertale, an xmen/mutant kid oc, uhhh idk i feel like there was more but i forget?? and i probs wont do these anyways oops

Everybody has some kind of scar. Send me a ✗ to hear about a physical scar my character has, or a ✧ to hear about an emotional/mental scar.

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       Another bias list that is well needed and I know I ramble a lot, so let’s keep this somewhat short. I made this account roughly around March, about eight months ago, and I never expected all that I have on this account. I have received nothing but a positive feedback, I have met wonderful people, I have been able to share my love for Sera and dig deeper into her character. There has been ups and downs, but who doesn’t have them? I’m just happy I’ve stuck around and never did I ever expect close to 1,400 follows, never, never. I sometimes still look at it and just wonder what I’m doing or if I deserve it. And,  maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on myself! Just, long story short, thank you all for who have stuck with me, getting to know me, helped me, wrote with me, everything. You’re all so lovely and I mean everything that I say when I say how much I appreciate you all. Thank you and I hope for more months ahead.

       Below is in no order. Not in alphabetical order - I’m lazy. All are people I admire, people I write with, people I wish to write with - just the word that is wonderful and I highly suggest them all. Give them a look! And, if you’re not on here PLEASE don’t take offense, I may of forgotten someone & I might of put some on here twice - whoops.

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O, Death O, Death Won’t you spare me over til another year Well what is this that I can’t see With ice cold hands takin’ hold of me Well I am death, none can excel I’ll open the door to heaven or hell~

She was here to take refuge under the watchful gaze of the Maker’s wife. To find some semblance of peace more than she’s been getting.

(The Maker works in mysterious ways it would seem)

Sheena had bee carefully turning corners and hiding in the shadows from the Spymaster, but finally she’s been made and she lets out a heaving sigh, stepping forward, cover blown, but her hood still raised enough to obscure her face.And she kneels to the woman in front of her, removing the bow from her back and sliding it across the stone ground towards the other, daggers in her belt and boots following.

“Leliana please put that away before you do anything else old friend”

“Old friend? Who are you to call me a friend?” 

All of her training as a bard and a spy had her defenses on full alert, the grip on her dagger handle only tightening. Her keen eyes narrowed at the strange figure in the darkness. The hood obscured any identifying features, and despite the pull of familiarity that came from a place she couldn’t place, the voice was just as strange to her. Her reflexes caused her to act before she could register that she was kicking the surrendered weapons further away, an old tactic. 

“ NO SWORD, NO ARMY, NO KING WILL EVER BE MORE POWERFUL THAN A SENTENCE. swords may cut & kill, but words will STAB & STAY, bury themselves in our bones & become corpses we carry into the future, all the time, digging & failing to RIP THEIR SKELETONS from our skin. “

                            established april sixth, 2015. written by sleepy mango.

R.N. Prasher (via fadedforthem)

    What is the best way to a man’s heart?

                                                           Between the fourth and fifth rib. 

@makerslight liked for a starter

         “So, Leliana, it’s been a while. What have          you been up to?”

“It has been a while. I’ve been...busy. My job requires a measure of secrecy that I do not wish to discuss. What about you?”