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a dragon age roleplay

Four years strong, we are a literate to advanced Dragon Age roleplay that focuses on the events post-Trespasser, while also following the timelines of the Warden, Champion and Inquisitor.

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Played by Holly
♕   andraste
♕   cherith
♕   cat
♕   dinah
♕   crim

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 losing my breath, for alayna/isabela
played by Jitterbug
GMT (London)    mature content? Yes    Offline
P16 posts


10 Wintermarch, 9:44, docked in a Tevinter harbor


Everything hurt. Her insides writhed like her stomach was filled with vipers and her head felt like a bronto had been let loose. Every time she tried to suck in a breath something would catch in her lungs, making her cough and hack. It was a wet, gurgling sound, and when she pulled her hand away from her lips she could see the black sludge in the early half-light of dawn.

It wasn't abnormal for Eden to have nightmares, and most, if not all of the crew knew it was because she had the taint. If she woke up screaming one night no one mentioned it for fear of having a swift fist to the guts. It was also normal for her to have these coughing fits, though they usually didn't come as frequently as the nightmares. Eden's affliction was a topic no one liked talking about, least of all her, so whenever it happened it was silently agreed that everyone just ignore it.

And that was how Eden preferred it. When she had awoken from her nightmare - darkness, darkspawn, the flash of blades, the feeling of falling - her bunk had been wet with her sweat, and she had pulled in her breaths like a drowning woman. She hadn't looked around to check if she'd woken anyone up, and if anyone was awake they had the decency to pretend to be asleep. A small thing that Eden was always grateful for. Quickly she swung her legs over her bunk, feeling her lungs start to burn and the need to cough increase with every labored breath. She only picked up her coat, didn't even bother with her shoes, and left the crew's quarters barefoot.

The salty air was cool and prickled against her sweaty forehead, and out on deck she was able to relax a little bit, allowing herself to cough and groan now that she was away from her sleeping crew members. She coughed for a good solid minute, letting herself lean over the side of the boat to spit out the black gunk that had pooled onto her tongue.

With the burning in her lungs beginning to dissipate she gave herself a moment to just breathe. The cold ocean air felt good against he hot skin.


played by alayna
est    mature content? Yes    Offline
P13 posts

Isabela, at this point in her life, had gained the supernatural ability to outdrink everyone on her ship and only receive the smallest twinge of a hangover in the morning. There was a lot of sport to be had in waking up the entire crew at the crack of dawn, all moaning and groaning as they practically fall off of their respective mattresses onto the creaking floor. That time hadn’t come this morning, however, as the Admiral sat on the ledge of the quarterdeck, legs dangling over the edge with a bottle of partially full rum on the deck. Sometimes, when the mornings were a little more rough than usual, a little hair of the dog helped dull the senses.

All those years ago in Kirkwall Isabela would’ve bet (or hoped) her weight in sovereigns that Anders disgusting blight-vomiting would be the last time she’d ever see something like that. Sure, she’d seen a lot of fucked up things, but something about seeing that black sludge was just creepy. Perhaps, in the beginning, Isabela didn’t chalk up the reaction her crew did at Eden’s nightmares because she had her nice, comfy, separated captain’s cabin. She’d wag her finger at the complainers and tell them to shut the hell up because Isabela really didn’t care. Maybe she didn’t make such a big deal out of it because she had the vague concept of what Anders was running away from this entire time and didn’t blame Eden for making the same decision. After all, weren’t they all running from something?

The peaceful morning of the waves lapping at the shore and quiet, still-drunk fisherman was broken up by a familiar scenario: an elven women throwing up unnatural black sludge overboard.

At least it wasn’t on the deck.

“Rough night?” Isabela joked, leaning down (and maybe nearly toppling over) to reach for the bottle on the ground. She raised it in a faux cheer, saying, “Late ones will do that to ya.” Well, she never had a rough night like theirs. Anders never went into the details; most complaining about how they made him get rid of his cat. Isabela would never ask the details from Eden, either, or even address the situation at all. None of her business, really, as long as it didn't complicate things - and it never did. Everything else paled to that one time an Antivan Crow came to kill one of the crew. Nasty ordeal.

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