Thedas Connections

I love that Merrill is from the same clan as Warden Mahariel.

I love that Inquisitor Cadash is related, however distantly, to everyone’s favorite bird-hating golem, Shale.

I love that the Hawke family is related to Warden Amell.

I don’t love that Warden Surana was taken so early that they can’t remember who their family was… but I do love the potential that gives fanfiction writers to invent their own fascinating backgrounds.

I love that Warden Brosca is related to the prince of Orzammar (and that they get a statue in a special spot in Orzammar).

I love that the Trevelyan family is related to House Pavus.

I love that the Cousland’s ancestors were involved in Flemeth’s story… and also werewolves.

I love that Clan Lavellan was savvy enough to send a spy to the Conclave, and then bold enough to demand the Inquisitor be returned to them unharmed.

I love that Warden Tabris’s mom passed down a knife that has been in their family since the Exalted Marches called the fucking Fang of Fen'Harel (!!!!)

I love the letter Adaar gets from the Valo-Kas Mercenaries that has a P.P.S. that says “If you are dead, disregard this message.”

I love that House Aeducan was begun by a dwarf who led the dwarven armies against the darkspawn during the First fucking Blight, holy shit!

I love that Serault is the last destination of Divine Justinia before the Conclave, and that the poor Marquis of Serault gets kidnapped and needs to be rescued by the Inquisition!

Basically, I love that the Warden, Hawke and the Inquisitor (and even the Marquis of Serault) all have a place and history and a gods-be-damned stake in this world, regardless of where they come from.

Okay, but Mage Wardens who have just left the Tower, you know? Think about it. Like, Mage Wardens, with slender limbs and weak muscles, wincing and grumbling during the trek to Ostagar. They’ve never walked so far in all their life.

Mage Wardens, sitting around the camp at night, holding soft, sore feet in their magically frosty palms, trying to soothe the blisters and aches this new life has brought.

Mage Wardens, not used to the sunshine, covered in freckles and sunburn, squinting and flushed with a patina of sweat.

Mage Wardens making a purchase for the first time ever, counting out their silvers and bits so meticulously that the shopkeep rolls his eyes and clears his throat most rudely.

Mage Wardens applying frost enchantments to flasks for all their companions, so none of them are ever far from fresh, cold water - or ale, in Oghren’s case.

Mage Wardens, determined to be self-sufficient individuals, trying to light the campfire, striking stones together as their companions quietly observe. Mage Wardens finally roaring in frustration, the stones sent sailing and fire, as red as the Warden’s face, flinging from their hand to the pit, because, they shout, Andraste be damned this is barbaric!

Mage Wardens, u feel ∩(︶▽︶)∩

The one major issue with the Magi origin is that, because the player is dropped into the middle of a brand new world that the character has inhabited all their life, Amell or Surana will spend the entire time wandering around like “new brain who dis?”  I like to headcanon that temporary memory loss and disorientation is a well-known side effect of the lyrium taken at their Harrowing. This is why you don’t immediately know the name and backstory of the hundred or so people you’ve been locked in a tower with for at least a decade. All those templars are just rolling their eyes behind their helmets at you as you get lost trying to get to Irving’s office. They’re like oh, no, here we go again, “You can’t leave the tower, remember? You have to stay here because you’re a mage, okay? You do magic. Your name is Amell. Aaa-melll.” 

This also accounts for some of the more awkward conversations you can have with tower residents:

“Why hello, my dearest and oldest friend who I have known since we were both wee magelings, how are you today?”

“Are we fucking?”

“No. Just… No.”

the-mad-hermit asked:

no wait shit i lied i still have more ideas. you must make the world see the romantic superiority that is Amell/Alistair. Like Alistair is really bummed about not being able to ride griffons into battle but you know what? Bear Amell. Amell makes him feel better by letting him ride a bear into battle instead.

im so glad you said this because this is VERY favorite headcanon of mine honestly

RIP everyone who didn’t play Origins

can we talk about the mage warden being able to truly experience rain for the first time though

like they’ve seen rain before while they were in the tower but the most they’ve ever been able to do was stretch an arm out the window to feel it. never for more than a few moments before a templar rounded the corner and pulled them away from the window

and flash forward when they’re a warden there’s a rainstorm while they’re in some small town and they’re forced to stay in the inn until it passes (because fuck traveling in the rain). and the mage warden is out there standing in the rain, smiling and laughing, until their robes are beyond drenched because this must be what freedom feel like

maybe they even convince a few of their companions to join them until they’re soaked and laughing too. they all finally go back inside when wynne scolds them and says she won’t take care of them if they get sick