Emyr Tabris

the return of the king..................

Day 3: Community

Mi amor,

By the time this letter reaches you, if it reaches you at all, I will be far away.

I tire of shadows, yet I am more weary of danger, or to be more precise, the danger my presence puts others in. My time among the Dalish was short, and were it not for the intervention of another, may have ended with blood. Innocent blood, that is. There was no shortage of Crow blood to be had. Pray my time in Ansburg is peaceful.

The city’s elves have made me feel quite at home. The elder herself has given me shelter under her roof. Each morning I find children at my doorstep, coveting my attention like I am a hero worthy of their aspirations. I do not tell them what I truly am, though I suspect their elders know.

They live humbly here, but I think you would enjoy yourself— the Minanter flows more freely than your beloved Drakon, and we are far enough north that all manner of fruits and vegetables come through the city’s markets. True, I have not the coin to buy them, but what is the harm in relieving a merchant of a peach here and there?

I will beg the Maker for forgiveness later.

I once told you I considered myself lucky for an orphan, and in many ways that still holds true. I often wonder, however, what would have happened if I was trusted not to the brothel, but my people. I do not remember the Alienage in Antiva City, or, indeed, in Rialto. Would they have guarded me so closely there, as they do here? Would I have been safe? Would I have been happy?

Ah, but what use is there in wondering? You know poverty’s sting as well as I, mi amor. I might have been happy, yes, but I am happy now, knowing your warm embrace awaits me in cold Amaranthine.

Con cariño, Zevran

Written for @cityelfweek day 3!

i love them so

ko-fi

Last minute addition to tomorrow's theme, don't mind me...

Folklore and History!

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 and History

- 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]

Two orlesian elven kids having some happy time.

So I drew my ocs Almael (white haired kid) and Tamril (brown haired one) during their childhood. They were best friends and grew up together. After Almael’s magic manifested at age of 9, he was sent to the circle of Montsimmard. After long time not seeing each other’s, they meet again (mostly by chance) in adulthood. At this time, Almael became a Mage working for the Inquisition (which allied with Mages), while Tamril became a secret Agent of Fen’harel.

City Elf Appreciation Week... BEGINS!

Please remember to tag @cityelfweek or use the tag #cityelfweek24 so your works can be reblogged! Today's optional prompt is vhenadahl - but anything that's focused on city elves is welcome, new and old!

"did you know, Alistair, that I was a bride once?"

hahahah man poor Nelaros, the Tabris origin is by far the saddest.

Hiiii! For Atros x Solas! "come, before the band stops playing. dance with me." Happy writing!

oooh this was fun thank you! my chaos boy........ i love him sfm 😭 @dadrunkwriting 558 words cws: mentions of background character death as in canon

Solas looked right here. Which was ridiculous, or should have been ridiculous, but… he did. He looked right. In the uniform that Atros had scowled to see, refusing to look in a mirror, detesting the idea of having to dress up and be presentable for a bunch of shems, but Solas just slipped in like he was made for this place. Even in his stupid little hat. He should have looked ridiculous. Atros wanted him to look ridiculous, had been expecting to have a good laugh, a shared joke between them. 

Instead, this. Solas wearing the uniform and the hat with a stunning grace and authority, and damn if that didn't do something to Atros. He had some thoughts about having Solas stay in that uniform tonight, but those would keep. For now they had to navigate all the complexity of the Winter Palace: and it was outrageously complex. When they got to the fighting—practically inevitable, really—it had come as something of a relief, although he had to choke down his rage at the servants' lives carelessly and cruelly spent. But at least he knew how to fight, knew the steps. This was honest, where the Game was all deception, saying what you don't mean, smiles like blades slipped between ribs except he only understood the second part. 

But it was strange that Solas understood it all. Strange that he carried himself the way he did. Atros had been watching him all night; in front of other servants he moved naturally, smiled warmly, was sincere. In front of the shems he was coolly indifferent, unaffected, poised. Their gaze slipped across him as if he wasn't there, blending into the background despite standing tall in plain sight. 

Even had he not been the Inquisitor, he knew he couldn't manage that. He was always going to be ill-fit here, always gangly and disproportionate, at odds with expectation. That was him. 

So when they were done with bloodshed and politics (were they even separate things in Orlais?) and he stood on the balcony trying to get some fresh air, something far from the thick rush of perfumes that had given him a headache as soon as he'd entered the palace, he was not terribly surprised that Solas joined him. He must have known this was the right moment… he knew everything else about this. 

What did surprise him was the other man asking him to dance. “Me? You're kidding.” His voice was deadpan but Solas' hand remained stretched out to him, bent in a slight bow. And he was smirking.

“Come,” he said, voice warm and with just the edge of teasing. “Before the band stops playing. Let's have this moment—dance with me.” A raised brow, a challenge. “Or does our brave Inquisitor fear dancing when it's not for political gain?” He scowled at the memory of dancing with Florianne.

“I was so scared I was going to step on her foot,” he muttered even as he placed his hand in Solas', inhaling sharply when that hand closed around his and drew him near. “I think now I should've.”

“She deserved as much,” Solas admitted as he led Atros in a far simpler dance, “but you conducted yourself admirably. And I am confident Josephine is relieved you danced well.”

“Can't let Josie down,” he shot back, lips quirking when Solas grinned. With teeth.

Who Will Your Lover Be?

Part of the Alienage Soundscapes series, created for @cityelfweek

“If I was strong, I would just hit them back!” “That's the point of this song, dummy. You can hit them back as much as you like, they'll always hit back harder, until you're dead.” “Oh… What's it the one who gets away does?” “Fly? I don't know. It's just an old song.”

—Conversation of three elven children playing, overheard by hahren Sarethia of the Highever alienage

(Lyrics and song without sound effects under the cut)

Who will your lover be? Marry me! Marry me! With whom will you bind the knot underneath the tree?

I am strong and not afraid! I am fast and slight! I am smart and know my trade! I am beautiful and great! I will teach you flight!

Who will your lover be? Marry me! Marry me! With whom will you bind the knot underneath the tree?

Strong gets cracked over the head, Strong is strong but strong is dead. Fast is caught and cannot bite, Fast is fast but cannot fight. Smart does not last very long, Smart is smart but smart is wrong. Beautiful will draw a look, they won’t let them off their hook. Only Flight can get away, get away but cannot stay.

Who will your lover be? Marry me! Marry me! With whom will you bind the knot underneath the tree?

 obscure elven heroes! appreciation. post

The Pale Demon: after Orlais conquered Halamshiral in 2:20 Glory and the Dales fell, one of the Keepers of the diaspora clans became infamous for his vicious attacks on Orlesians. humans came to know him as the Pale Demon, for he set upon soldiers and even unprotected merchants with iceblasts and blizzards from his staff, even in summer. these attacks continued until chevaliers killed the Keeper and then slaughtered his entire clan. the staff he bore was called Yavanalis (it’s curious to me incidentally, that Flemythal named one of her daughters Yavana - any connection? maybe the two words share the same root word in elven).

Wenni di Ladia: a City Elf from Nevarra, she was one of the most famous elven heroes from the Towers Age. directly descended from one of the last Emerald Knights who protected the Dales, she took up her grandfather’s bow, Tenasarin (any relation to the river Tenasir, where shrines to the elven gods stood?), to fight when the Third Blight threatened Thedas. her deeds, skill and beauty inspired entire armies, such that I don’t think it would be a stretch to say Wenni was one of the Heroes of the Third Blight. after the Archdemon was defeated, her name launched revolts and rebellions in the alienages, becoming a rallying cry - mien’harel! human Marcher rulers were angered by this, and Wenni was forced to flee criminal accusations. she vanished into obscurity, not unlike some Wardens in some of the potential epilogue slides, but her legend still lives on in the hearts of City Elves. this is very important, because in the City Elf Origin elven children playing “Heroes and Humans” will tell Tabris that they don’t know any stories about elven heroes. I like to believe that Wenni’s story is one that every elven child knows and takes great pride and solace in, just like Garahel’s is noted to be. 

Rajmael: a great general. the elves of the Dales fought valiantly against the Exalted March, but defeat became obvious. in one last act of defiance, Rajmael threw his dragonbone waraxe, The Veshialle, at the oncoming enemy before committing suicide by jumping from the Forlorn Falls. his weapon is said to rebel against all but elven hands. Rajmael may have been an Emerald Knight. a verse in the Chant of Light insists that he recanted his faith in the Creators, but we all know that’s human bullshit. curiously, his tale bears some similarity to that of Nomaris, one of the last Emerald Knights alive after the Dales were destroyed. he too bore an axe - the Axe of Green Edges. he lodged it in a tree, declaring that it should remain there until his People were free, before flinging himself into a river, presumably to his death.

Iloren: the Keeper of a Dalish clan that wandered the Anderfels during the Second Blight, in a time when Keepers were priests that served as archivists and magical scholars. he was a hunter in his younger days, and as crafty as a wolf. he led his people in their flight from the darkspawn horde, staying always one step ahead by the grace of his wits alone. one night, the darkspawn cornered and ambushed them. but the dark ones fell into Iloren’s trap. he and the other hahrens called upon the old magic, and with lightning set fire to dry grass and kindling that the hunters had strewn around the camp in preparation. the area went up in flames, and not a single creature made it through the blaze to harm his clan. today his tale is preserved in its most cherished form in books.

Willem Trialmont: a City Elf who followed a company of the Legion of the Dead for three days through the Deep Roads, doggedly intent on fighting darkspawn with his family blade - a fine elven sword which would later come to be known as Topsider’s Honor in light of his deeds. he was quiet but insistent; the dwarves, confused at why someone from the surface would care to combat darkspawn underground, initially thought that he wouldn’t last, and threatened to kill him if his actions put them at risk. but he shocked them, for later, they witnessed him fight like a man possessed, with incredibly light, silent strikes and marked precision. they toasted and broke bread with him, and when he died in 7:5 Storm, they extended that which was sacred to them and conveyed him to the Stone as if he’d been born a dwarf. his epitaph reads that he served the Deep Roads better than a native son. many Legionnaires lived to see another day because Willem fought at their side and fell in their place. in death, the dwarves lauded his honor and claimed him as a brother in blood. his story is one of true family beyond kin and taking up arms against darkness.

Alidda of Halamshiral: the most famous elven criminal in all of Orlais. a City Elf, she was arrested in 4:45 Black for killing three knights - a deed which hardly makes sense to pair with the word “crime”, as chevalier initiation practices involve “testing their blades” by entering alienage slums after dark to murder innocent elves who happen to be out after curfew. Divine Clemence I presided over Alidda’s trial, where it came to light that she had actually killed twelve chevaliers, in justified retaliation for the abhorrent graduation ritual. she escaped and killed twenty more chevaliers - two in single combat - before finally being cornered. rather than be captured, she cut her throat with Knightslayer, her own dagger.

Orahn: A Dalish smith known to have created fine weapons such as the Dal’Thanu waraxe that was an heirloom in the possession of Deygan’s family. His grandfather passed it down to him. Family legend holds that it was used to fight in the service of Andraste herself, meaning Orahn may have been a contemporary of Shartan.

Corimae: Presumably a City Elf, she owned a beautiful dagger called the Voice of Velvet. She was an assassin - possibly an Antivan Crow? - and when a nobleman refused to take her as a lover, she used the dagger to open his throat.

Sendis and Iselle: A Dalish archer and blood mage respectively, this brother and sister pair were part of a band of heroes that saved the Free Marcher city of Kaiten, having aided Viscount Ravi in preventing an abomination from destroying the place. Their clan was led by Keeper Tianne. Over time Iselle and Ravi became lovers, and she eventually died bearing their elf-blooded son Eiton. Sendis later saved his clan from blood magic control by calling on Ravi for help.

Embri of Gwaren: A City Elf, she was a mage, though unfortunately one of limited talent. Testament to her brave spirit and selfless desire to help, Embri volunteered of her own volition to be made Tranquil. As a Tranquil she proved to be a skilled enchanter, despite her absent-mindedness. She always kept an array of magical herbs and other ingredients at her belt, and eventually the belt itself came to hold magical properties. Embri died of lyrium poisoning.

Temolai: A skilled craftsman who made The Long Sight, a helm which grants a strange and unnerving acuity. He made one more helm better than it, but that helm allowed him to gaze upon the Black City, and he was lost forever.

Korin: An elven king, from a tall tale Tabris can tell children in the Denerim Alienage.

Tathas: A sneaky elven bandit, from a tall tale Tabris can tell children in the Denerim Alienage.

Blargha: A mighty elven warrior, from a tall tale Tabris can tell children in the Denerim Alienage.