Baby don’t hurt me || Norman & Dyel 


There was something to be said about his fabled physical perfection if a couple dozen books could keep him down. Lanky frame struggling under the collected mound of leather bound knowledge well his mouth ran through the impressive list of all manners of swears known to man, elf, and dwarf alike. He did have a good source of reference for dwarf and human, elf was a bit more trickier as they didn’t so much as swear as give you a look that meant you’d better sleep with one eye open.

He’d seriously begun considering simply setting the tomes aflame when he felt the books being moved off of him. Determined to refrain from damaging them further as he had a hunch this was Dyel assisting him and not the city guard—the city guard would do a lot more stomping around and demanding to know who he was, why he was here, and blah blah blah. With a crooked grin he shrugged his shoulders under the mound of books, the motion unnoticeable of course as he was still almost fully buried “Simply laying in wait for someone to come and locate the buried treasure.” he chuckled before after several more shuffling and cursing he was able to sit up right.

Gingerly running gloved hands over the back of his head he grumbled darkly before shoving a pile of books off of his lap and twisting around on the spot as much as his current prison would allow him to face Dyel. Eventually deciding on unclasping his cloak from around his body as it was more burried than the rest of him and only dragging him down he managed without that anchor to pull his tall body out of the mess to stand tall. Hands on his hips he looked at the mess he made, pivoting on the spot and letting out a breath “Well!” He exclaimed loudly turning back to Dyel with a sheepish smile “Gotta say, didn’t go how I planned.” he ran a hand through his hair.

Well who was he kidding, he never exactly had a concrete plan to begin with.

Step 1: Go do Dyel’s shop

Step 2: ????

Step 3: Profit!! In the form of sexual intercourse.

It was a miracle things like this didn’t happen more often but he hardly made house calls. Ever. He clapped his hands together, looking to Dyel “Guess I gotta help clean up before I continue on with my original plans for my visit, huh?”

Ah well, a little work never hurt anyway and to be honest he sort of missed having something of purpose to with his massive amount of free time. So he got to work on starting to organize the books and uncover his cloak feeling oddly naked without the thing’s heavy presence over his body.

Dyel chuckled under his breath as he was cleaning the books around the tall man up off the ground, he had known that there could eventually be burglars or something of the sort that could chose his quaint shop as a “perfect” target thinking that most likely a feeble old man ran it, and as such he planted some somewhat-deadly traps around the shop. “It’s a wonder that the lumbering giant didn’t set those off and he got caught by a pile of books” He thought to himself.

While the two were cleaning up Normans mess the elf realized what was said “What did you mean by ‘my original plans for my visit’?” he asked cocking his brow just long enough to look at Norman while he was re-adoring his cloak, and continued to pick up the large pile of books at his feet and started to put them back on the shelves. He could assume the answer, from what he’s seen of his time with Norman he’s, well lets just say he has a way with words, and this talent had not been so limited to women. Seemed the only People he didn’t use this talent on were Dwarves. Having finished shelving the pile he had he turned back to Norman awaiting an answer.


I’m not completely sure everyone is following my second character…
Anyway the URL is
I just posted an open RP feel free to just ask Amell for an RP :)

Baby don’t hurt me || Norman & Dyel 


Lowtown was making a certain handsome mage feel particularly low this evening, the reasons were unknown to him or perhaps he simply didn’t want to go out of his way to find out why. All that mattered was kicking this ‘low’ feeling in the groin and getting himself a high. As a mage this could be either a particularly easy thing to manage, or an astounding difficult one. Elbow rested on the worn wooden table he usually took up residence at within the Hanged Man he absently traced out a crude image on the table’s surface. He wasn’t certain where his hairy little friend was and since he didn’t exactly keep tabs on the dwarf he was at a loss of what to do.

So without a clue on ‘what’ to do, he’d think instead on ‘who’ to do.

See? Problem solving at its finest! Norman reclined back in the chair, stretching long legs out under the table and began to look over the fine patrons milling about within the Hanged Man. It was a busy evening, but the Hanged Man was always busy. Between the rat flavored whisky, the homey atmosphere, and Varric the dwarf’s tales of grandeur on the wonderful Hawke it was always guaranteed to be bustling at any hour of the day. It was kind of nice actually, even when he was trying to sleep through all the cheering because one drunk bloke farted on another drunk bloke and they were now punching out their differences like retarded monkeys.

Right. Time to find someone to do right now before his head exploded out of sheer boredom.

Sex really wasn’t a healthy way to fill his hours in between…well either more sex or pestering his dwarven companion but really he had twenty-something years to catch up on and there were some fine people in Kirkwall he’d had yet to sleep with.

Excluding the dwarven population of course.

The crowd within the Tavern was in particularly poor taste this evening however so the northman decided it was high time he took to perhaps spending some of his hard earned coined (stolen mostly) at the brothel situated in Hightown. He’d never been to a brothel before, maybe they were seeking new pretty people to employ. It would be a wonderful job he noted as he shrugged into his fur cloak once more and flicked the clasp shut at his throat, shouldering his stave he headed for the door and stepped out into the streets of Lowtown. However, sex was great, fucking amazing really because he was bloody spectacular at it but he might have to partake in sexual activities with some ugly bastards and then some. So, a paying customer he was.

Which for some reason had him frowning , he’d never had to pay for sex before but Lowtown’s crowd was getting so boring and unimpressive that unless he found cheap residence in Hightown—but the Hanged Man was so fun—he was going to have start traveling farther and farther for his daily lay.

Why not consider an actual relationship Norman old boy?

He scoffed at that annoying inner voice, throwing his arms in the air at the very idea of HIM in a RELATIONSHIP? How did one even go about a relationship? Didn’t it entitle those squishy emotion things? He had no idea and hardly thought knocking down someone’s door to ask about it would be a wise thing. So he simply walked, there was a lot of walking to be had around Kirkwall. Walking was another one of his many skills seeing as he spent most of his life doing it. Of his…whatever Gard and Dyel were, Norman was the only one unfortunate enough to live within Lowtown. Maybe it was the whole mage thing that made getting a fulltime job a difficult one, but he’d really rather spend his days sleeping, fucking, and eating on stolen coin than working for it himself. Who did that anyway? Why the people he stole coin from of course! On the note of stolen coin he jingled his coin purse cheerfully, heavy with the weight of stolen coin and other valuable trinkets he might just have a pleasant evening ahead of him tonight.  

A stretch of time later he considered paying his shorter companions a visit. Gard was unwelcoming at any hour of the day and although bickering with the shorter, hairier, and far less handsome man was generally an enjoyable way to spend his time he wasn’t particularly feeling up for a vocal battle at the time.

He’d rather put his, and someone else’s mouth to good use elsewhere.

But not Gard’s.

Never Gard’s.

Of course that did leave Dyel…he paused in step, one foot hovering over the stair ahead of him a curiously expression on his face. He considered it. The elf certainly was attractive enough, and Norman didn’t indulge in the Elvin side of things as much as he clearly should have. Alright brain shall we head on over to his shop? See just what he’s up to? He could never be sure, he thought to himself as he continued up the stairs to Hightown, it was rather late in the evening but the alienage was usually bustling with life—mostly elves complaining, begging, and otherwise suffering—but Hightown was quiet, peaceful almost and Dyel didn’t seem the sort to turn in early.

He worked at a bookstore, he had to like reading, so he was probably still up with his nose in a book. However long a stretch of time later, the mage found himself outside the door to the cozy little bookshop. It was as expected, closed for the evening and the door was locked. Magic had its many, many uses and he lifted his hand palm flat out and hovered it over the handle, slowly he turned his hand to the side listening to the almost silent clicks within the door as it was manoeuvred by an invisible hand and with a loud audible click it popped open. A smug smirk on his lips he pushed the door open with one hand and combed his gaze across the ground, it was dark within and he wasn’t entirely sure what sort of security Dyel had.

With one glowing hand he swept it over the ground, keen eyes looking for any sort of trap. He shone the light over the ceiling before he stepped into the store, gingerly one toe and then one whole foot. “Dyel?” he called, looking around.

He was a shopkeep, hardly a master assassin so really Norman didn’t have any particular reason to be so on edge. But his gut was sending all sorts of warnings to his mind and his gut was rarely wrong, what a wonderful gut it was.

“It’s Norman, you know the wonderfully witty, attractive mage from the Hanged Man?” he spoke to the dark shop before him as he gently nudged the door closed behind him.

The interior was dark, not exactly dark enough to unnerve the mage as he’d been in real darkness before but it was dark enough to make seeing difficult. Something that caused considerable trouble within a bookshop packed with rows upon rows of shelves piled high with tomes of varying sizes, shapes, and colors. With the mental image he was able to call to his mind’s eye of how he last remembered the shop, there had been books on the floor, on the counter, along with various other goodies strewn about for ‘decor’. And almost as though on cue he collided with a pile of something or another and fell to the floor with a loud crash and managed to half burry himself under a mound of tomes, decor, and Maker only knows what else.

With a stream of curses in his mother tongue as his light was hastily snuffed out in his surprise of the massive weight falling on him he twisted under the books, lanky frame making this whole thing far more difficult than it had any right to be he smacked his head off the corner of either a shelf or the counter or a stupid table for all he know and cursed considerably louder.


The young elf was sitting in his study upstairs off of his bedroom, deep in a book, not the usual tome this time, but tale of great adventure. It was not often Dyel got to “pleasure read” (mind you he loved learning and reading so he did not mind at all) but when he did he seemed to be so enthralled with the story of the epic tales. He chuckled as he couldn’t help but think of beardless dwarf from The Hanged Man.

Just as a great battle was unfolding in the book, a loud thud caused the elf to jump from his chair, the book flying from his hand as he clutched his knife tightly. His ears slightly picked up what sounded like a man yelling, it seemed muffled somehow. Still clutching the knife in his right hand he grabbed his lantern and proceeded down the stairs slowly.

Even with the lantern the store was very dark. He heard muffled groans and curses, inching closer and closer he noticed the pile of books by the front desk and a near by bookshelf.

"Well aren’t you the most delicate thief?" Dyel said chuckling as he put the Lantern down on the front desk. He bent down knife in hand and started moving books off of the intruder carefully. He removed one more book and there it was the face of the lumbering giant he called his friend Norman.

"Norman?" He cocked an eyebrow "Just how did you get yourself into this mess good ser?"


Sorry I’ve been inactive but I’m going to try to be more active starting right now
Message me if you wanna RP with either Dyel or Catherine

2 years ago · 1 note

OPEN RP: Dust to Dust 


The amount of contracts had finally slowed and the assassin now had more time to enjoy reading. Sadly, there was a distinct lack of books upon her shelf. There were a few which were old and tattered having been neglected by various nobles who had bought them to look intelligent or important. The majority were on Elven history, but there were a couple of books about Tevinter and the Imperium as well as one about Dalish beliefs. Táriel had to have some normal hobby after all, right? But due to the lack of books, it seemed a small outing to the bookstore was in order. She was sure Dyel could do with the business.

She had made it rather quickly to the small shop and was already pushing the door open and entering. He must have not realised who it was right away as he seemed to be trying to hide something. Her lips curled into a small smile “You don’t have to hide behind a cloak for me, Dyel. I can see part of your armour.” it was protruding a little, and that matched with her eyesight made it rather easy to spot. “If you’re heading somewhere I could come back later.” 

Táriel did not wish to hold him up. After all, he must have been heading somewhere of some importance due to the armour and not regular attire. Although, Táriel’s armour and regular clothing were practically the same thing aside from when she was cleaning indoors or sick. 

Dyel laughed to himself softly, “Oh Táriel, it’s just you” he opened he cloak and greeted his friend ” I’m in no rush, I was just heading to the Hanged Man to see if any work has shown up over the last few days.” He moves from behind the counter to join his friend in the shelves.

"I think I know what you’re here for" He said motioning her yo follow him to one of the shelves on the right wall, "I’m willing to bet you want to look at these" Dyel points out two of the rows of books on the shelf "these are the book I found out in the store on Tevinter and the Imperium, I still have to look through my things for the Elven tombs and texts…" Dyel continued to ramble on for a few more minutes before he caught himself "I am so sorry Táriel, I do that alot. Now is there anything you’d like specifically?"

(Source: dale-archer)

OPEN RP: Dust to Dust 

    Dyel sighed as another day was about to pass him by, it was already long after mid-day and there had been very little business in the store. He was working in one of the stacks, as people never put the books away in the right place after they “consider” them. Why people think his book store is a library has always puzzled him greatly. It is always more exciting to work with Norman and his “associates”, no matter what the work is, not much is more boring than wiping the dusty shelves of the store.

    Browsing the shelves he doesn’t find too much wrong with the shop and decides it’s time to go and get ready to meet his friend in the bar. Dyel moves upstairs to his bedroom removing his drab noble’s clothing in exchange for his cloak and armor. He slings his quiver over right shoulder and heads back downstairs, continuing past the desk to grab the iron bark bow that hangs on the wall. As he gets ready to lock up and leave through the secret entrance in the back of the store, the bell rings. Someone has entered the store.

    “May I help you?” Dyel calls as he throws his bow and quiver under the desk and covers himself in his cloak as much as possible.


Going to start my first open RP today hope you guys Join in :D


The store has been rather slow lately.

2 years ago · 1 note

Yet more people in Kirkwall 


Well met, Dyel. I’ve been here quite a while but I tend not to make much of a show of my presence, so us not having met is understandable. Still, I could have saved myself a lot of trouble gaining books if I was aware of your establishment.

And oh? Have you found anywhere you particularly like?

I’d like to have you by anytime, just knock if it looks closed.

There is this one place in Lowtown, it’s a tavern my friend Norman is in often called “The Hanged Man”.

2 years ago · 43 notes (© tarielamar)

Yet more people in Kirkwall 


Then I shall have to pay you a visit. I have been meaning to make more time for reading but…business has been rather hectic lately. And I feel your pain, being an elf does not aid in any height issues. 

You may call me Táriel, and who might I be speaking to?

My name is Dyel, Dyel Hartenfa. I’m new to Kirkwall, been here just short of a year, so I’d be surprised if you’ve seen much of me.

And I’m sad to say I haven’t been able to venture out of the store much, what with cleaning, I have taken my time to look around the city a bit though.