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Post by Knightfall on Dec 10, 2010 2:46:20 GMT 1
Note: I've been working on this little by little as I make my way through the game again. I'm hoping to cover the entire game, but I'm sorry if it doesn't really pan out. =DDRAGON AGE! THE MUSICAL - Based on the Parody of Mass Effect, "Mock Effect," by Mister Buch, by KnightfallPrologue - Apples and Origins[Fade in on a quote that will likely have some significance as this prologue continues.] QUOTE: Tell me what you eat, and I'll tell you what you are. - Brillat-Savarin VOICEOVER: Nearly a decade ago, a man's fantasy became reality in a form never seen before. “Kitchen Stadium,” a giant cooking arena. The motivation for spending his fortune to create Kitchen Stadium was to encounter new, original cuisines, which could be called true artistic creations. CHAIRMAN KOGA: ALLEZ CUISINE![NOTE: If provided opening isn't epic enough, go with the alternate intro that Salzman from Accounting came up with.] VOICEOVER: The Chantry teaches us that it is the hubris of men which brought the darkspawn into our world. The mages had sought to usurp Heaven, but were instead cast out for tracking far too much Sin across the carpets of the Golden City. They became corrupted by a taint so overwhelming, their forms were twisted and perverted into something akin to orcs—and the lawyers of the Tolkien Estate were powerless to stop it. V/O: Until the Grey Wardens came...
V/O: Men and women of every race, warriors and mages, barbarians and kings, liberals and conservatives—the Grey Warden's sacrificed everything to stem the tide of darkness.
[The group of Grey Wardens pull off ninja-like moves to show that they are clearly superior to other warriors who might have fought the darkspawn previously. Also show most of the darkspawn running past the attacking Grey Wardens for no reason. I mean, seriously, how are we going to make a five-versus-five hundred battle look believable otherwise?]
V/O: And they succeeded. It's been four centuries since that victory, and we have kept our vigil. We have watched and waited for the darkspawn to return. But those who once called us heroes have forgotten...not that I can blame them. But I have seen with my own eyes the plot device that will soon make us relevant again. BioWare help us all.
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Post by Knightfall on Dec 10, 2010 2:48:20 GMT 1
Chapter One - Character Creation
Please select one of the Origins below:
-Human Noble (Part One) -City Elf (Skip to Part Two) -Dalish Elf (Skip to Part Three) -Dwarven Noble (Skip to Part Four) -Dwarven Commoner (Skip to Part Five) -Magi (Skip to the race of your choice, proceed to Part Six, then continue as normal)
PART ONE (Human Noble):
VOICEOVER: You were born into a family of noble blood that spoiled you silly and gave you your own castle on the northern shores of Ferelden for your seventeenth birthday. You had all the money, lovers, and ponies you could ever want, and things were great for a very long time. But one night, as you slept on your million thread count sheets, Arl Tim Curry menacingly descends on your castle, destroying everything you've ever known, loved, and stolen from your elven servants. Also, they killed your elven servants. You barely manage to escape with your life. That is until...(Proceed to Part Seven)
PART TWO (City Elf):
V/O: Let's face it, things kinda suck for you. You were born elvish, and grew up with a rather abusive family in the alienage of one of the most destitute cities in all of Ferelden. In the context of your life, the gods couldn't have missed the bullseye of the dartboard any worse if they'd tried. Traveling around the alienage never fails to get you beat up by the guards, and you've actually plotted routes around the village so that you pass by the guards who won't beat you up as bad as the others. After watching your entire family get eaten by a random pack of wolves that had no business being anywhere near that part of the world, you escape the alienage to attempt to start your life anew elsewhere. That is until...(Proceed to Part Seven)
PART THREE (Dalish Elf):
V/O: You were born into a clan of Dalish elves, deep within the wilds of the Brecilian Forest. Compared to other origins you might have had, you live a rather carefree life. Your hobbies mostly involve roaming the forest with your cousin, messing with any human trespassers in an almost sadistic manner. But unbeknownst to you, but knownst to us, karma is about rear up and mount you from behind...(Proceed to Part Seven)
PART FOUR (DWARVEN NOBLE):
V/O: Congratulations! You were born a possible heir to the throne! You do this and that around the Diamond Quarter of the city of Orzammar, but you're really just biding your time until someone slaps that nice-looking crown on your forehead. That was until, in a dickmove of epic proportions, your brother totally screws you over and frames you for the death of your other brother. As punishment, you're sent into the Deep Roads to face your fate. But luckily, you escape...(Proceed to Part Seven)
PART FIVE (DWARVEN COMMONER):
V/O: Same as City Elf, except you're short and have a better tattoo...(Proceed to Part Seven)
PART SIX (MAGI):
V/O: You find out along the way that you can set things on fire with your mind, and are quickly arrested by the Templars to begin your training at the Circle of Magi at the aptly-named “Circle Tower.” There, you were instructed to control your influence over the magical arts. You didn't enjoy it. The mages are crazy about curfews and delight in showing their students only the most heavily-edited rated-R movies. You know the one's I'm talking about: where they say “dang” instead of “damn,” and “spit” instead of “sh**.”
V/O (cont'd): Ah, it appears my monologue was censored for mages. Their influence is far greater than I had anticipated. You win this round, mages.
V/O (cont'd): Anyway, you're put through a trial called “The Harrowing,” under the watchful eye of a Templar who wants to hit you with his sword until you succumb to its effects. After you pass, you accidentally help some malificar and things get a little crazy. That is until...(Proceed to Part Seven)
PART SEVEN (Grey Warden):
V/O: ...One day, as you walk along meditating on your rather interesting backstory, you encounter a Grey Warden named Duncan—yours truly. We make introductions, but I already know a great deal about you. I've been keeping an eye on you, you see, and I use my knowledge of your past to completely and utterly blackmail you into joining the Grey Wardens. It does not matter what you say or do, you're coming with me, and you will likely die defending the values of this Order that I have only just now introduced you to.
V/O (cont'd): So, what say you, Warden?
[You stare at the man, and your head depressingly sags.]
WARDEN: Goddammit...
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Post by Knightfall on Dec 10, 2010 2:52:59 GMT 1
Chapter Two - Foreshadowing at Ostagar[You and Duncan make your way through the frostbitten forests of the Hinterlands and finally arrive at Helm's Deep, the sturdiest stronghold the people of Rohan have ever known Ostagar. The soldiers of Ferelden have already gathered, and the mood is restless. The final battle against the darkspawn is soon to begin.] DUNCAN: And so, the final battle against the darkspawn is soon to begin. WARDEN: Are you going to narrate our travels the entire time? DUNCAN: What do you mean? WARDEN: I mean, you've narrated just about everything we've done for the past two weeks. I haven't been able to get a good night's sleep since we departed. DUNCAN: I'm still not sure I follow. But look, young Warden, here we are. WARDEN: Yes, Ostagar— DUNCAN: Ostagar. Built by the skilled architects of the Tevinter Imperium in defense of invading Wilders, it has always stood as a symbol of a lost time. It is here that the people of Ferelden will make their stand against the darkspawn, and it is here that the Grey Wardens will stop what evil might come. WARDEN: See? I can't tell if you're even talking to me. DUNCAN: Young one, now is not the time for you to lose your composure. WARDEN: I'm not—
DUNCAN: King Cailan. Your Majesty. [He bows.] This is a surprise indeed.
[Duncan reaches out and strikes the back of your knees, sending you tumbling down into a kneeling position.]
KING CAILAN: Ah, Duncan! You've finally arrived. I was truly worried that we'd be forced to win this battle without you.
DUNCAN: That will never be the case, Your Majesty.
KING CAILAN: [He looks to you.] And this must be the new recruit I've heard so much about. I'm sorry, I don't think we've met, but I must say you do look familiar.
WARDEN: [Please select a response.]
-It's an honor and a privilege to meet you, Your Majesty. -Nice to meet you. -I know who you are, but I can't say I'm very fond of you. -I'm an elf, fuck you.
KING CAILAN: So it would seem. It's great to have another Grey Warden here, anyway.
DUNCAN: Your uncle sends his regards, and reiterates his offer to send his solders from Redcliffe to assist in the battle.
KING CAILAN: Eamon just wants in on the glory! I'll be taking every last ounce of it, unfortunately.
DUNCAN: That's far too much glory for any one man. I can imagine Loghain would agree.
KING CAILAN: Ah, Loghain. Never has a man glared at me so menacingly for so long. If he were any other man, I'd say he was ready to stab me in the back! HA! HAHA! [He claps Duncan on the shoulder.] Like that would ever happen.
DUNCAN: Indeed.
WARDEN: You seem very confident in our ability to win against the darkspawn
KING CAILAN: I am, but I'm not even sure this is a real Blight. Shame that. You're not a real King unless you've thrown wave after wave of men and women at an archdemon. Right, men!
KING CAILAN: Right. Anyway, I had better go over our strategies with the other commanders, and no doubt have my ear talked off by Loghain. See you two on the battlefield.
[The King walks away, and as he does, accidentally passes beneath a ladder, steps on a mirror, and pets a black cat that had curiously crossed his path. He also destroys a mockingbird nest along the way for good measure.]
DUNCAN: That king will live forever.
WARDEN: So, the battle's almost over, huh? Maybe you won't need me to join the Grey Wardens, after all.
DUNCAN: Do me a favor, and get your hopes up as far as they can possibly go.
WARDEN: You are not as nice as everyone thinks you are.
DUNCAN: The battle against evil has no use for nice people, you knucklehead. [He goes to poke you in the eyes, but you block his attempt.] Wise guy, huh? [He bonks you on the nose.]
WARDEN: What'd you do that fer?
DUNCAN: I'll be setting up camp on the other side of that bridge. Do me a favor and gather Alistair and the other Warden recruits. Once you've found them, seek me out and we'll continue with the Joining.
WARDEN [surprised]: What's the Joining? You never mentioned any Joining?
DUNCAN: Oh, really? That's interesting. [He walks away across the bridge.] This bridge was the last part of Ostagar to be constructed, purely because of its strategic significance. The Tevinter architects blessed each keystone with the water of—
[Passing soldiers stare at Duncan, flabbergasted beyond speech. You stand there until you can't see Duncan on the other side, then you continue on, fighting the insane urge to bugger off.]
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Post by Mister Buch on Dec 10, 2010 3:58:11 GMT 1
Mock Effect, schmock effect. This is very, very funny. My favourite line was, 'That King will live forever'.
I hope this goes on. You're much better at parody than you give yourself credit for.
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Roman Candle
Lieutenant
For relaxing times, make it Suntory time.
Posts: 120
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Post by Roman Candle on Dec 10, 2010 4:51:35 GMT 1
How could I not find this hilarious?
Good times. I think best part was:
Interesting that you made the Warden a "you." Written almost in second person. But I like it thus far. Good work!
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Post by Knightfall on Dec 10, 2010 10:42:53 GMT 1
Thanks guys! It's really appreciated. I'm trying to write it sort of like I would a D&D campaign, so it has that RPG-ish feel to it. Kinda starting to stretch for humor, though, so I'll see how long I can keep it up. xD
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Post by Knightfall on Dec 10, 2010 10:44:16 GMT 1
Chapter Three – A Lesson in Alistair
[You wander around the various camps set up at Ostagar, meeting new people, learning the subtleties of various groups. You also steal a few things from the war effort when no one is looking. At the end of a great stone causeway, you find a blond-haired man arguing with a mage. Although the camp is filled with Grey Wardens and soldiers wearing similar suits of armor, you somehow guess that this is probably Alistair, the man Duncan sent you to find. You approach and eavesdrop on the conversation.]
MAGE: I don't care what the Revered Mother wants! She needn't send an errand boy to fetch me like some mongrel!
ALISTAIR: Hey, I was only asked to deliver a message, friend.
MAGE: I'm not your friend, buddy. I hate you! I've hated you for as long as I can remember! I'll fix you! I'll fix all of you! [He storms off.]
ALISTAIR: [He sighs.] What a dick.
WARDEN: Is everything all right over here?
ALISTAIR: Yeah, everything's great, couldn't you tell?
WARDEN: Okay. [You hold up your hands.] Just looking for Alistair. Are you him?
ALISTAIR: I don't know. Am I?
WARDEN: Are you?
ALISTAIR: Am I?
WARDEN [irritated]: Look, are you going to keep shilling sarcasm like this, or are you going to answer me?
ALISTAIR: I don't know. Am I? [He coughs.] Sorry, sorry. I get a little carried away sometimes. Yes, I'm Alistair.
WARDEN: Okay...Not so sure I care anymore. [You look over your shoulder.] Why were you fighting with that mage?
ALISTAIR: Ah, that. The Revered Mother thought it would be the funniest thing ever to send a Templar to summon a mage to a meeting. The nerve of some people, right?
WARDEN [confused]: Yeah, that's...uh...I don't get it.
ALISTAIR: Really? Oh, well, I would tell you but...that's a lot of information to throw at you for the sake of an inside joke. Doubt you'd find it very funny after all was said and done, anyway.
WARDEN: I'll take your word on that. Duncan wants to see you.
[Alistair starts to jump around like a little kid. You look on in confusion.]
ALISTAIR: Duncan's here?! EEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
WARDEN: All right, then. That wasn't painful on the ears at all.
ALISTAIR: This is wonderful news! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!
[He runs off. When he sees you're not following, he stops running and waves at you.]
ALISTAIR: Come ooooooooon!
[He disappears around the corner. You mope for a few moments before you begin making your way to Duncan's camp. Just as you catch sight of it, a pale man with long, raven hair and a demeaning scowl descends upon you.]
WARDEN: Hi...
LOGHAIN [unamused]: And just who are you?
WARDEN: [Please select a response.]
-I'm the newest Grey Warden recruit. -Just a common soldier. -Never mind who I am. -The Last Airbender.
LOGHAIN: Does not matter, anyway. Do you know who I am?
WARDEN: Uh...Professor Snape?
LOGHAIN [surprised]: What?
WARDEN: Am I wrong?
LOGHAIN: ...Yes, you are.
WARDEN: Uh-oh. Is Gryffindor going to lose points?
LOGHAIN: What? No, I mean... [He tries to regain his composure.] I am Teyrn Loghain of Gwaren. I saw you conversing with King Cailan earlier today.
WARDEN: Oh, yeah. What of it?
LOGHAIN: If you know what's best for you, you will flee before things progress any further. I don't want anyone else who has a choice in the matter getting killed here.
WARDEN: Hey, man, I'm all for that. I wasn't exactly brought here under my own free will.
LOGHAIN: None of us have any free will. We are all just pawns in this tormenting game of chess the Maker forces us to play.
WARDEN: No, I mean Duncan blackmailed me into coming.
LOGHAIN: Oh...Well, that's no good.
WARDEN: You're telling me.
LOGHAIN: If it's any consolation, I plan on getting them all killed.
WARDEN: I had figured as much.
LOGHAIN: And...that doesn't bother you?
WARDEN: Honestly...don't have much emotional investment in anyone here so far. You've got a flamboyant king who doesn't take sound advice, mages who habitually destroy emotions, some dogs, and an army of Red Shirts. No one I'd lay down my life for. You have my axe.
LOGHAIN: [He studies you for a moment.] This is good...I'll tell you what: When the times comes, I'll do my best to keep you out of harm's way. I have a do-nothing task that I need accomplished when the battle starts. Just light the beacon atop that tower to signal my army, and I'll have someone go up there to retrieve you and get you away from the battlefield. How does that sound?
WARDEN: Sounds like a party.
LOGHAIN: Very well, then.
[Loghain bows to you and disappears into the commotion of the Ostagar camp. Relieved beyond all measure, you practically skip back to the other Grey Wardens.]
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Post by Clint Johnston on Dec 10, 2010 19:57:36 GMT 1
Great stuff, Snowfall! Love the Snape Reference.
A couple tips, not all of which are necessarily your problem. #1 - Can we get the comments and the writing in separate threads? Perhaps by getting things moving on the non ME writing section?
#2 - Love the sarcasm, but your great work seems to lose it's tone when you include cusswords. The occasional name calling certainly is appropriate, but I've found it's usually funnier if you don't say exactly what it was. I learned this reading Harry Turtledove books. Instead of saying "Bill said, fuck you up the ass with a rabid monkey" he would say in third person "Bill suggested exactly what Tom could do with his chimpanzee obsession." Says the same thing, but sounds classier.
#3 - (I'll shut up after this one) Combine your chapters. The prologue and everything up to meeting Alistair could easily fit into 1 chapter, and works better together. At the very least the prologue and the Origin stories could be combined. If you needed extra length to call that a chapter, you could expand the origin stories.
Love the work. I especially like the conversation options segments. Well done!
PS. When do we get to the musical part?
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Roman Candle
Lieutenant
For relaxing times, make it Suntory time.
Posts: 120
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Post by Roman Candle on Dec 10, 2010 20:17:45 GMT 1
I second the motion for combining posts together to make longer chapters.
Although, I do think the cussing is rather funny sometimes. Mostly because you can't say those things while in the game. It adds to the whole surreal aspect of the parody. Obviously Clint's right about too much being a bad thing, though.
And...
No wonder Loghain always seemed so bitter and cynical. He's a Calvinist!
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Post by Knightfall on Dec 10, 2010 21:32:33 GMT 1
It's always Monday for Loghain. He seems to get angry with everything, even in the books. I think he yells at a squirrel at some point in "The Calling," but I might have misremembered.
And Clint, I'll definitely try and get everything streamlined. Wasn't expecting to write as much as I did, and it looks even shorter than it did on Open Office, lol.
I'll also try and get more creative with the language. Both you and Buch did some really creative workarounds in Mock Effect 1 and 2. I'll try and do the same, but I do curse a lot in real life and in my writing. It's not really my thing, per se, but I do enjoy it. xD
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Post by Knightfall on Dec 12, 2010 2:28:38 GMT 1
Chapter Four - Your Sword and How To Swing It[You rejoin Duncan and Alistair at their camp, along with a couple other poorly-characterized gents who practically have “fodder” written across their foreheads.] DUNCAN: Is everyone accounted for? Good. For the Joining to proceed, the four of you will need to take on a mission of some importance. In addition to my preparations here, you will need to fetch me three vials of darkspawn blood: one for each of you recruits. [Duncan remains oddly silent for a few moments. You raise your hand.] WARDEN: That's it? DUNCAN: Yes, that's it. [He strokes his beard.] Oh, and I'll need you to find the ruins of a Grey Warden fort out there in the Korcari Wilds and bring back a stack of papers that have been sitting out there for Maker-knows-how-long. Centuries? Yep, it was centuries. That settled? Okay! Go! [The you and the rest of the group exchange confused glances.] ALISTAIR: Now, when you say “go,” you mean...? DUNCAN: Uh, begin? Commence? Start moving? Technically, the quest has been on for about a minute now, and That Guy is closest to completing it because he's the furthest from the camp. [That Guy self-consciously takes a step forward, leaving That Other Guy as the closest to the edge.] WARDEN: Wait, wait, wait. Now, let me get this straight: You put the lime in the coconut? DUNCAN: Yes. WARDEN: And then you want us to find a bunch of darkspawn, kill them for their blood, and then search the whole of the Korcari Wilds to find the remnants of a Grey Warden fort? DUNCAN: You must have been taking notes. WARDEN: And then! You want us to retrieve papers from that fort that have been there for centuries? How do you know they're still there and not dust. DUNCAN: I don't. WARDEN: And do you even know where this fort is? DUNCAN: Nope. WARDEN: How are we supposed to do all of that and get back here before the battle? This could take days. Weeks, even! DUNCAN: That's a good question and it deserves a responsible answer. [Duncan turns and walks away.] WARDEN [dejectedly]: Well, all right then. [At just after nightfall, you, Alistair, and those other two guys find yourselves in the thick of the Korcari Wilds. All around you are the sounds of the predatory creatures that are surely stalking you. As you continue on, you hold your sword out in front of you, cautiously minding the shadows.] WARDEN: I've got a bad feeling about this. ALISTAIR: I don't sense anything. WARDEN: It's not here, Alistair, it's something...elsewhere. ALISTAIR: Why don't you leave all the “sensing” to me. I'm the only real Grey Warden here. WARDEN: You're just Mister Sensitivity, aren't you? ALISTAIR: So they tell me. They usually just call me a sissy. I'm told it's a term of endearment. WARDEN: Right. Just...something doesn't feel right. THAT GUY: Maybe it's the fact that we're crotch-deep in some of the most unforgiving wilderness in Ferelden. Just figured I'd throw that out. THAT OTHER GUY: This mission is insane! I mean, I'm no coward, but I've soiled myself several times already. WARDEN: And no one's gonna judge you for that, buddy. ALISTAIR: Wait, I think I heard something. [All of you freeze in place.] THE OTHER GUY: I've done it again. WARDEN: Everyone just relax. Let's take this one step at a time. [The four of you begin to move slowly through the foliage.] ALISTAIR: Lions and tigers and bears... [You give him an impatient look.] ALISTAIR: ...Oh my. WARDEN: I want to destroy you. [Suddenly, a group of darkspawn jump out in front of you, their blades held high and ready to strike.] WARDEN: Let's do this! Don't give them an inch! [Fight scene.] WARDEN: Good job, guys. That was easily the most epic fight I've ever been a part of. ALISTAIR: That goes double for me. WARDEN: No one's ever going to believe us. Wow. Oh, do we have the blood? THAT GUY: Right here. [He holds up three vials of darkspawn blood. It's black and bubbles up with evil in their containers.] WARDEN: Where did you get those vials? THAT GUY: What do you mean? WARDEN: Who just has three glass vials on their person? THAT GUY: Someone who's prepared for anything. [You stare him down for a moment.] WARDEN: Right... ALISTAIR: Look! It's the ruins up ahead! [The ruins are suddenly right there in front of you. You rub your eyes.] WARDEN: No fraking way. ALISTAIR: Come on! Let's go find those papers! WARDEN: How is this possible! ALISTAIR: Come on! [You approach the ruins of the Grey Warden fort. Etched into the stone of the entryway are the words: “Stand vigilant for time eternal.” A few feet inside, you find a wooden sign sticking out of the rubble that reads: “Never mind.”] THAT GUY: The Wilds haven't been kind to this place. WARDEN: Which all but ensures that we'll never find those papers. ALISTAIR: Look! A treasure chest! [Surely enough, in the middle of all the rubble and decay, is a treasure chest sitting out in the open like it owns the place.] WARDEN: No way... [Alistair opens the chest, but seems disappointed by what he sees.] WARDEN: They're not really in there, are they? ALISTAIR: Just a Korcari sword, shield, and some deku seeds. There also seems to be a fairy in here. [The fairy tries to fly out.] FAIRY: Hey! Listen! [Alistair slams the chest shut.] WARDEN: Well! We can't say we didn't try. We can say we got the darkspawn blood and had a great time finding it. Let's head back.
WARDEN: Hi there.
GOTH CHICK: Well, well. What have we here? [She approaches.] Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned? Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn-filled wilds of mine in search of easy prey? What say you?
WARDEN: Couldn't you have...ah...asked a more direct question than that?
GOTH CHICK [impatiently]: Intruder or scavenger?
WARDEN: [Please select a response.]
-Neither. The Grey Wardens once owned this tower. -I should much rather like to know who you are first. -Intruder? And just how are these your Wilds. -I'm on a boat.
GOTH CHICK: That is not the answer to my question.
WARDEN: Don't really care. Your an apostate, maybe even a malificar, but definitely something out of a Tim Burton movie—and I've never met a Tim Burton character I couldn't kill. So surrender now or prepare to fight.
MEOWTH: That's right!
GOTH CHICK: Such hostility. It appears my father was right about you outsiders. I have no wish to fight you, but I can set you all on fire if you do not choose to behave.
THAT OTHER GUY: I'm allergic to fire! Please don't!
GOTH CHICK: Let me guess your purpose here—
WARDEN: You could just ask.
[She glares at you and continues.]
GOTH CHICK: You are searching for something, yes? Something that was in that chest. Something that is there no longer.
ALISTAIR: There no longer? You stole them, didn't you? You're some kind of sneaky...witch-thief!
[You turn to face Alistair.]
WARDEN: What the hell did you just say?
ALISTAIR: What?
WARDEN: That's the best you could come up with? Seriously, Alistair.
ALISTAIR: Don't do this...
WARDEN: No, that was lame. You're lame. If you were nobility, I would assassinate you right now. No one that dim should be in charge of anything. [You laugh.] Imagine that. Alistair as a noble. Yeah, you're a regular heir to the throne, aren't you? You sad bastard.
[You see a tear escape Alistair's eye.]
WARDEN: Now that that's out of my system: Yes, Miss Helena Bonham Carter, we're looking for whatever was in that chest. Obviously, it's not there anymore, so we'll be heading back. Good day to you.
GOTH CHICK: Ah, but the papers still yet remain, though 'twas not I who took them.
WARDEN: You're kidding.
GOTH CHICK: Not even in the slightest. 'Twas my father to removed them and keeps them safe.
WARDEN: Your father? Can you take us to him?
GOTH CHICK: I suppose, but I shant be leading you there without first knowing your name.
WARDEN: [Please select a response.]
-No name, just a lowly Grey Warden, miss. -I am Arthur, King of the Britons. -I am Padme, Queen of Naboo. -Chuck Norris, Elven Ranger.
GOTH CHICK: How very, very strange. I am called Morrigan.
WARDEN: 'Kay.
MORRIGAN: Follow me, I will take you to my father.
THAT OTHER GUY: Boobies.
[You strike him over the head and the five of you continue deeper into the Wilds.]
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Post by ommadawn on Dec 13, 2010 6:51:27 GMT 1
Love it! I've nothing to add to the others' comments yet, apart from MORE!
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Post by Knightfall on Dec 14, 2010 1:13:47 GMT 1
Chapter Five – Random Encounter[You follow Morrigan through the Korcari Wilds with your companions in tow. As the hours pass, you begin to question your own judgment, after following a blood mage through an unfamiliar part of Ferelden for the better part of a day in an attempt to retrieve some papers you know nothing about. Yep, it's only now that you're second-guessing yourself.] [You are sad.]
MORRIGAN: Father, we've arrived.
[You gather around the entrance, waiting for her father to appear. No one emerges, but Morrigan looks as though she had expected this.]
WARDEN: Maybe he's not at home.
MORRIGAN: Just...wait for it.
[After another minute of waiting, the treeline explodes into flame. Pine crackles, spitting embers into the air while woodland critters run for safety. Another fireball blooms from the ground in front of the companions, and a man appears amongst the smoke. His face his wrinkled, the beard that hangs from it is long and gray, and his robes are tattered from wear. He holds his plain wooden staff in front of him and stares down his visitors.]
ALISTAIR: I...uh...wow...
WARDEN: Agreed.
[The man continues to glare at you.]
WARDEN: Um, greetings, sir! We are looking for—
[The man points over his shoulder, and more explosions tear up the forest. He turns back to the group.]
WARDEN: What manner of man are you that can summon up fire without flint or tinder?
THE MAN: I...am an enchanter.
[He throws his staff into the air. Fire shoots out from the bottom of it, and it rockets away into the sky. It explodes somewhere up in the blue. An entire flock of charred geese falls back to earth, plopping down all around you. He reaches out and the staff falls back into this grip.]
WARDEN: By what name are you known?
THE MAN: There are some who call me...
[The two of you stare each other down for some time. He appears to be building tension, but you're not quite sure.]
THE MAN: ...Tim?
WARDEN: Greetings, Tim the Enchanter...possibly a blood mage...possibly a gross overuse of this joke.
TIM THE ENCHANTER: Greetings, Grey Warden!
WARDEN: You know my title?
TIM THE ENCHANTER: I do!
[Tim turns around and spreads his arms. His hut explodes into a cloud of splinters and bits of furniture.]
MORRIGAN: [She sighs.] Not again...
TIM THE ENCHANTER: You seek the papers once forgotten, once found at the old fort.
ALISTAIR: That is our quest. You know much that is hidden, O Tim.
TIM THE ENCHANTER: Quite.
[He waves his staff in the air...]
[Meanwhile, deep within the Deep Roads of the Dwarven Empire, a weary-looking lady dwarf lifts another slab of stone away from the ruins of the dwelling. Beneath it, she finds a sheet of silver engraved with ancient runes.]
DWARF: Stone save me! This is it! This is what I've been searching for my entire life! I may have lost everything looking for this, but I've surely gained it all back. This proves my family's of the upper caste. With this, we'll finally have a future!
[The silver slab explodes. The dwarf looks at the shiny remnants as they slip through her fingers.]
DWARF: No...NO! [She raises her fist into the air.] NOOOOOOO!!!
[Back in the Wilds, you regard Tim, unimpressed with whatever he just did.]
WARDEN: So...you have the papers?
TIM THE ENCHANTER: Indeed.
WARDEN: Can we have them?
TIM THE ENCHANTER: How can you have what you did not earn!
[He points and a small poof of smoke escapes the ground beneath your feet.]
TIM THE ENCHANTER: Stand fast, Grey Warden, against the tide of evil that is now bearing down upon you! Find the hilt of your sword as if it were the very destiny that now pursues you, and threatens everything you've ever known and held dear! Embrace it, Warden! Find the light within yourself and leave such shallow trinkets to the wanting! Turn and face what you were created to banish back into the dark! It comes to claim you, Warden, with nasty, big, pointy teeth!
[Morrigan facepalms.]
MORRIGAN: God...
WARDEN: Well, Tim, I didn't much want the papers in any case. So, if you'll excuse us...
TIM THE ENCHANTER: Oh...well, take the bloody things anyway.
[He tosses the papers at you]
TIM THE ENCHANTER: They're taking up shelf space.
WARDEN: Thanks...I guess.
TIM THE ENCHANTER: Your thanks are more than what those blasted pages are worth. Long have they sat upon my shelf, and arrogant was I to think that anything else could fit on the shelf along side them. My novel of vampires and werewolves was relegated to a pile on a nearby stool.
THAT GUY: Oh, how did you like that book?
TIM THE ENCHANTER: In our world, boyo, werewolves and vampires have butchered innocents behind the veil of obscurity for a thousand years, leaving their desiccated corpses in piles for their families to find and mourn over for generations. In this book, a bunch of adolescents fight over a girl who isn't worth the paper she's printed on. The children we pass this world on to will not look kindly on the generation that birthed this brand of literature into existence, I think.
THAT GUY: Oh...I thought it was all right.
TIM THE ENCHANTER: What's a bad opinion on a sinking ship?
THAT GUY: What?
TIM THE ENCHANTER: Nothing. Now, Warden, I expect you'll need to be making your way back to Ostagar to take part in the “final” battle.
WARDEN [confused]: Why did you say it like that?
TIM THE ENCHANTER: Say what like what, Warden?
WARDEN: You said “final” battle, like it won't be. Is it not the final battle?
TIM THE ENCHANTER: Oh, my child, I suppose it will be...for a few choice individuals.
WARDEN: Are you foreshadowing something?
TIM THE ENCHANTER: No! Now do proceed to bugger off. Let's go, on your bike. Move it!
[He points at Morrigan. She flinches.]
TIM THE ENCHANTER: Do be a dear and show our friends back to their camp unharmed. I should have the hut rebuilt by the time you get back.
MORRIGAN: You always make it difficult for me to play the evil witch angle with visitors, father.
TIM THE ENCHANTER: What sort of evil witch plays with dolls, gives them each a personality and a backstory?
MORRIGAN [aggravated]: Maybe someone with an aborted childhood. [She turns to you.] Right this way!
[You and your companions follow Morrigan back to the gates of Ostagar, where she quietly takes her leave and disappears back into the Wilds.]
THAT OTHER GUY: Boobies.
WARDEN: Let's get this Joining over with, fellas.
[You return to Duncan's camp to find him talking with another group of four steely-eyed individuals.]
DUNCAN: Let it be known that I would not ask you to be Grey Wardens if I didn't think you had the talent for it. Each of you will be required to take on a task of some importance. In addition to my preparations here, you will need to fetch me four vials of darkspawn blood: one for each of you recruits.
ALISTAIR: Duncan?
[Duncan finally notices you, and his eyes go wide.]
DUNCAN: I mean, ah...What are you people doing here! I already have four fine recruits that I wouldn't trade for the world! Get out of here!
[He kicks the other group out of the camp, much to their bewilderment.]
DUNCAN: The nerve of some people, looking to take your place before you've even started fulfilling your respective destinies.
WARDEN: Right...
ALISTAIR: I don't understand. Were you not expecting us to come back?
DUNCAN: Quite the contrary, I fully expected you to come back. In fact, where am I? I seemed to have blacked out. I have no idea what I've been doing for the past day, or so. Who were those people? Man, I'm glad you lot found your way back.
WARDEN [unconvinced]: Here, we found your papers.
DUNCAN: What papers?
[You show him.]
DUNCAN: What the hell are—OH! Yes! Of course, the papers that I sent you to find. The papers at the Grey Warden's fort. The Grey Warden papers. Those...papers. Yes, you have done well. Better than I expected.
WARDEN: What did you expect?
DUNCAN: What? Oh, man, I totally blacked out again. I can't remember the last few things I just said, but hey! Here are the papers I asked you to get. Let's proceed with that Joining so we can make this all official.
[You hesitantly follow Duncan to a secluded area of Ostagar, where there are four chairs set up around an altar. There is a name on each chair, none of them belonging to you or anyone else in your party.]
WARDEN: Were you expecting someone else to be sitting here?
DUNCAN: Hm? Oh, that. Those names were on the chairs when I bought them. Take a seat.
[You, That Guy, and That Other Guy sit down while Alistair moves to stand next to the altar.]
DUNCAN: As part of the Joining, Alistair will recite the words that have preceded this ritual every time since the beginning. Alistair, if you would.
[Alistair clears his throat and lowers his head.]
ALISTAIR [solemnly]: Na Na...Na Na Na Na...Hey Hey Hey...Goodbye...
DUNCAN: And so we proceed. You, That Guy, please step forward.
[Duncan holds out a chalice filled with lyrium-enriched darkspawn blood.]
THAT GUY: You...want me to drink that?
DUNCAN: It is the blood of the darkspawn that gives a Grey Warden their power. It allows you to sense the taint, giving you the ability to sense the darkspawn themselves. It's completely safe.
THAT GUY: Really? It's safe?
DUNCAN: Oh my, no. Down the hatch.
ALISTAIR: Drinking the blood gives us the only tool capable of impeding the darkspawn advances.
THAT GUY: I don't see how. How does being able to sense an army numbered in the thousands give you any sort of advantage? That's like being able to sense when it's going to rain.
ALISTAIR: Well, you don't have to, I guess. We thought you were a cool guy, but I guess we were wrong.
DUNCAN: Indeed. He did seem like a cool guy when I invited him to join, but that does not appear to be the case. He's lame.
THAT GUY: That's not true! I'm totally cool! Watch!
[That Guy drinks the entire chalice and slams it back on the altar. His smile is wide for a moment, until he begins to feel the effects. He crumples to the ground.]
THAT GUY: Damn you...peer pressure. You've done me in again...
[He dies.]
WARDEN: Wowsers.
THAT OTHER GUY: No! No, no, no!
[That Other Guy withdraws.]
THAT OTHER GUY: No, I won't do this! You never said anything about this!
ALISTAIR: That's too bad. We thought you were a cool guy.
DUNCAN: I, too, thought he was cool, but he appears to be nothing but an anti-Fonz.
THAT OTHER GUY: No, I won't give in to your peer pressure so easily.
[Just then, Duncan sprints from the altar, descends on That Other Guy, and drives his blade through the man's gut. As the life begins to drain from That Other Guy's eyes, he spots a cherry blossom tree on the other side of the platform. A breeze whips through its leaves, sending pink pedals into the air.]
THAT OTHER GUY: ...Perfect...[He slumps.] They are all...perfect...
[He dies. Duncan wipes his fingerprints off the blade and places it in That Other Guy's hand.]
DUNCAN: It was suicide. You all saw it, right? [He glares at you.] Right?
WARDEN: If I can get through this Joining without dying, then I didn't see a thing.
DUNCAN: That's what I like to hear.
[He switches out the blood in the chalice with another batch.]
DUNCAN: This will give you the powers of a Grey Warden, but it won't kill you.
WARDEN: Okay...Then I gotta ask: Why do you make them drink the bad batch that would kill them?
DUNCAN: This is “dark fantasy,” kid. Where the shortest distance between two points is whatever route gets the most people killed.
WARDEN: [You nod.] Game and match, and down the hatch.
[You drink the blood. It's dry going down, but has an inexplicable peachy aftertaste. And what a great finish.]
DUNCAN: Gratz, you're in.
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Post by Knightfall on Dec 15, 2010 23:13:17 GMT 1
Chapter Six – The Best Laid Plans
[Duncan takes you and Alistair to meet with King Cailan and Teryn Loghain as they make their final preparations for what's sure to be the final battle against the coming Blight. Above on the rafters, a buzzard is perched, staring down at the King, squawking every now and then.]
KING CAILAN: If we place our soldiers here, here, and here, we should be in a good position to keep the bulk of the horde from flanking us.
LOGHAIN: What are you pointing at? There's no map on this table.
[The King seems to wake up to this.]
KING CAILAN: Not that it matters. We have the Grey Wardens here to help us win this battle. [He brightens.] In fact, relieve all of our soldiers of their weapons and give them to the Grey Wardens.
[Loghain grunts.]
LOGHAIN: That's more than what they need, Your Majesty.
KING CAILAN [excitedly]: I know! Our victory is all but assured. Imagine it, Loghain: A collective of Grey Wardens going head-to-head with an army of darkspawn, wielding five swords a piece. Wow, that should be a paining...I say, Royal Painter!
[An old man with paint stains on his garments runs up and bows.]
PAINTER: Yes, Your Highness?
KING CAILAN: Create a painting depicting that exact scene. Just...a bunch of excessively-armed Grey Wardens attacking frightened darkspawn. Also add a few pirates in there for good measure...and maybe some scantily-clothed women. Wait! Scantily-clothed elven women...Actually, you'd better make that it's own painting.
PAINTER: Very good, Sire, but Loghain already has me creating a portrait of him stabbing you in the back.
KING CAILAN: I believe the King's commissions supersede all others. Besides, he has like ten of those already.
PAINTER: I'll get started on it right away, Sire.
[He departs.]
KING CAILAN: Right. Where were we?
LOGHAIN: Nothing important. We were only planning out the battle that will determine the fate of Ferelden.
KING CAILAN: That sounds pretty important, actually.
[Loghain scowls. The painter comes back.]
PAINTER: There it is! That's the scowl I wanted to use for your painting!
[He departs again. The King notices you and your fellow Grey Wardens standing there.]
KING CAILAN: There they are! And it seems one of your recruits actually managed to survive the Joining.
DUNCAN: Yes, Your Highness. Now Alistair will have someone else to project his repressed parental issues onto.
KING CAILAN: Oh? I guess everyone wins, then. [He turns back to the table.] I was just going over the strategy with Loghain.
LOGHAIN: Rather, our lack of one.
KING CAILAN: Duncan, how many swords can you wield at once?
DUNCAN [confused]: Erm...Swords, Your Majesty?
KING CAILAN: Yes, I expect the Grey Wardens will hardly need the help of the Royal Army, but we'd like to play a part in the victory as much as you and yours.
DUNCAN: Uh. Your Majesty, if I might speak freely.
KING CAILAN: [He waves his hand.] Make it so, Number One.
DUNCAN: I know your mental image of the Grey Wardens is somewhere between “godlike” and “Sean Bean” but we are not invulnerable on the battlefield. We breathe, we bleed, and we don't react well to getting stabbed.
WARDEN: Just ask That Other Guy.
[King Cailan's expression seems vacant, as if he's mentally checked out. He snaps out of it after a moment.]
KING CAILAN: I'm sorry, did you say you have an army of Sean Beans?
DUNCAN: No...I said—
KING CAILAN: Why don't you put your feet up and write me a book of things I already know? This battle will go better than I thought it would. And you all know martial arts, don't you? Imagine that, Loghain: a bunch of Sean Bean ninjas.
LOGHAIN: ...What? [He slams a fist on the table.] Cailan, I will not hear any more of this nonsensical foolishness!
KING CAILAN: It's not foolishness. And you will remember who is King. [He points to the army barracks in the distance.] Any attack made by the darkspawn will be a useless gesture, no matter what archdemon they've obtained. With the Grey Wardens by our side, this army is now the ultimate power in the universe!
LOGHAIN: Don't be too proud of this metaphysical terror you've assembled. The ability to destroy a Blight is insignificant next to the power of the Force. [He raises his fist.] To force the Bannorn to assist us in battle, to force Redcliffe to bring their armies into the fray, to force the Landsmeet into uniting Ferelden against the darkspawn. To use such minimal force against a threat so grave is madness.
KING CAILAN: It's not madness. And you will remember who is King.
LOGHAIN: ...Didn't you just...?
WARDEN: Dear god, we're doomed.
DUNCAN: Obviously, the two of you still have a great deal to discuss. We shall take our leave and see you both on the battlefield.
KING CAILAN: Before you go, Duncan, I wanted to ask a favor of you. [He scratches his chin.] Of what we have figured out, Loghain will take his forces up the western ridge and wait for the darkspawn to present their flank. Obviously, they'll be out of sight, so we'll need someone to light the beacon in the Tower of Ishal.
[The King points to the great stone tower on the western end of the Ostagar ruins. Strangely enough, you hadn't noticed it before.]
KING CAILAN: Once the beacon is lit, Loghain's men will charge. Now...this mission is by no means dangerous. In fact, in the context of this battle, it's the easiest job in the world. There will be no combat, no threat. A caveman could do it. Which is why I'll need you to send two of your best Grey Wardens to light the beacon.
DUNCAN [remember that part on Spider-Man when Norman Osborn finds out he's been fired from his own company and just says “...What?” Yeah, Duncan says this exactly like Osborn did.]: What?
KING CAILAN: Yes, two of your best. Heck, why not those two?
[He points to you and Alistair.]
DUNCAN: I hardly think this is a job for a Grey Warden. We should have the entire order out on the field in case the archdemon presents itself.
KING CAILAN: The King disagrees. I'm the King. Therefore, I disagree. The two of you will be on beacon duty.
DUNCAN: May I at least know the reason?
KING CAILAN: A reason? Hmm... Nope! Can't think of one. Good day to you, Grey Wardens.
DUNCAN: But—
KING CAILAN: I said good day.
[The three of you quietly return to Duncan's camp.]
ALISTAIR: I can't see how this could possibly end well.
DUNCAN: Nor do I. [He sighs.] I feel like we're the Spartans at Thermopylae, but we have an even lesser chance of surviving. And they didn't survive at all...
ALISTAIR: Who are the Spartans?
DUNCAN: Exactly. We're so dead, people aren't even going to be able to reference us offhandedly in the coming years. [He perks up.] But, as long as the two of you know how to make a fire, we should be okay.
[You remember Loghain's promise to bail you out of the battle, and you can't help but smile a grinchy smile.]
WARDEN: Yes, we should be okay.
ALISTAIR: If only King Cailan would listen to reason.
WARDEN: Maybe if we had a more competent king. Maybe you should pray to the Maker they find some long lost heir to the throne that could replace him. [You point at Alistair.] How about Alistair? He's a bastard! The poorest bastard I know! Step up, King Alistair. Lead your people to victory.
DUNCAN: How did you know that?
WARDEN: Because he seems to be deficient at everything he does.
DUNCAN: You may be right about that, but I fail to see how you could've discerned—
ALISTAIR: No...Duncan, that's not what the Warden means.
DUNCAN: Oh...OH! Okay. You mean a “bastard” bastard. Gotcha. Well, you still appear to be in the right.
ALISTAIR: Hey...
DUNCAN: Tell it to your father. [He cracks his knuckles.] Anyway, the battle's due to begin soon. The two of you should get ready to light the signal.
WARDEN: Right. Let's get going, Alistair.
DUNCAN: Wait...
[The two of you turn to face your mentor. Duncan addresses you first.]
DUNCAN: I know it wasn't exactly your idea to join the Grey Wardens, and you must be questioning the general moral standing of an order that tricks most of its recruits into joining up.
WARDEN: The thought had crossed my mind.
DUNCAN: Either way, I want you to know that I'm proud of you for stepping up to the plate. Our ways may not be just, and our methods equally unjust, but our overall goal is for the greater good. I'm glad to have known you.
WARDEN: Well...thanks, Duncan.
DUNCAN: No problem. And, Alistair...
ALISTAIR: [He looks hopeful.] Yes, Duncan?
DUNCAN: Alistair...you need to see a head doctor someday soon. Seriously, all of these parental issues are going to get you in trouble someday.
ALISTAIR: O...kay...
DUNCAN: I'm seriously...if something terrible should befall us here at Ostagar, I need to know that when I reach the Fade, I'm not going to hear about how you lost it and attacked a post office in blind rage.
ALISTAIR: Why are you talking like you're going to die? You're going to be fine, Duncan.
DUNCAN: Sure I am...
[King Cailan emerges from his meeting with Loghain and salutes Duncan as he passes.]
KING CAILAN: Good luck on the field, Duncan. Darkspawn are repelled by chocolate oranges, right? I know I read that somewhere...though, I'm not sure it was in a book...Anywho, good luck!
[He leaves. Duncan nods solemnly.]
DUNCAN: Sure I am, Alistair...
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Post by Knightfall on Jan 9, 2011 22:36:25 GMT 1
Chapter Seven – All Along the WatchtowerWILLIAM SHAKESPEARE: Be still, night! Tremble no more, for the armies of darkness are come before mine eyes. Just there, the forests part before their fiendish march across our lands, and the bold and the brave have nowhere to run. Upon this stronghold descends evil, a kind that we will none of us escape. It will destroy not our bodies, not our minds, but our very souls! Hear me, brothers, sisters, and freebeings of Ferelden: Stand fast against the Blight. Make your peace with the divine of your eye. Send the darkness back into the horizon! [The armies of Ferelden cheer, holding their weapons high above their heads in defiance of the approaching horde. King Cailan nods pleasantly, and makes a gesture with his hand.] KING CAILAN: You may fire when ready.
KING CAILAN: Now, we await their surrender.
[Duncan leans over.]
DUNCAN: What was the point of that?
KING CAILAN: Isn't poetry as poison to the darkspawn?
DUNCAN [taken aback]: Who told you that?
KING CAILAN: Some guy told me, or maybe I read it...
DUNCAN: Some guy?
KING CAILAN: Ah! It wasn't some guy. It was the renowned mage: Falren the Doubtful.
DUNCAN: And you believed him?
KING CAILAN: In his defense, he wasn't quite sure it would work.
DUNCAN: Maker help us.
KING CAILAN: That seriously won't work?
DUNCAN: No!
KING CAILAN: Oh...[He clicks his tongue.] Well played, darkspawn...
[The clash of the two armies can be heard for miles. You and Alistair then decide to start making your way over to the Tower of Ishal.]
WARDEN: We should have left a little earlier.
ALISTAIR: It'll be worth it when Duncan sees the “Welcome Back!” banner I made for him. He'll be so proud.
WARDEN: Yes...of course. Proud. That's the adjective I would use to describe the state he'll be in after this battle, too.
ALISTAIR: I would also use: thankful, happy, overjoyed, and last but not least: alive. That's the most important one.
WARDEN: Your hopes are so high, they've invented the power of flight, something we of this medieval era know nothing of. That's how high they are.
ALISTAIR: Yeah. [He smiles.] Hey, we're at the tower.
WARDEN: Indeed we are. I must say, I'm relieved that we were assigned such an easy mission. An easy, easy...easy mission. One that will certainly go over without conflict. Yep, completely without conflict. Without any threat of being attacked, either. In one word: uneventful. I repeat: completely without conflict.
[You and Alistair make it to the top of the tower, without conflict.]
[Meanwhile, back at the battle...]
KING CAILAN: Run away!
DUNCAN: No! Stand your ground, soldiers of Ferelden! We can defeat them! Have faith!
KING CAILAN: Sod faith! Sound the Horn of Gondor!
DUNCAN: For the last time, this isn't The Lord of the Rings, Cailan!
KING CAILAN: Why not!
[Back at the Tower of Ishal...]
[You watch the battle from the view of the highest part of the tower. Alistair stands ready with a torch, ready to light the beacon. The battle looks amazing, if derivative and poorly rendered.]
WARDEN: Seems inefficient. How are we even supposed to know when to light this thing?
ALISTAIR: When they give the signal.
WARDEN: When who gives the signal?
ALISTAIR: No, Who's on first watch. I don't know which soldier will give us the signal.
WARDEN: That's what I'm asking you. Who's giving the signal.
ALISTAIR: I already told you, Who's on first watch.
WARDEN: I didn't ask that!
ALISTAIR: Yes, you did!
WARDEN: I don't care about who's on first watch.
ALISTAIR: Oh, well he seemed pretty fond of you.
WARDEN: Oh! Lieutenant Who.
ALISTAIR: Yeah, what'd you think I meant?
WARDEN: Sorry, wasn't expecting shtick from three Ages ago. Then which soldier is giving us the signal?
[Alistair thinks it over.]
ALISTAIR: They weren't really clear on that one, were they?
WARDEN: About as clear as my motives.
ALISTAIR: Maybe we'd better go down and double check on this.
WARDEN: Maybe if we hadn't spent all that time making your stupid banner, we would've had more free time.
ALISTAIR: It wasn't stupid. You're stupid.
WARDEN: Your face.
ALISTAIR: Let's go.
[You open the door to the stairwell, and down through the torchlight, you see a mass of corrupted creatures writhing their way up toward you. Their teeth are bared, their weapons are brandished threateningly, and a thousand eyes are on you. Carefully, quietly, you close the door.]
ALISTAIR: What's wrong?
WARDEN: Absolutely—[Bile climbs your throat.] Excuse me. Absolutely nothing.
ALISTAIR: Oh, okay. You looked kinda scared there. I got worried.
WARDEN: Nothing to be worried about. Nothing at all. Don't open that door. Okay?
ALISTAIR: Why not?
[He reaches for the ring on the door, but you slap his hand away.]
ALISTAIR: Ow! Ass.
WARDEN: Don't look down there. Someone, ah...I don't know. Don't go out there.
ALISTAIR: O...kay...
WARDEN: Someone's hanging modern art out there.
ALISTAIR: Maker Christ.
WARDEN: I know, it's terrible. Incidentally, I think now would be the best time to light that beacon.
[You sprint across the room and toss the torch into the furnace, igniting a brilliant flame inside of it.]
[But meanwhile, back at the battle...]
KING CAILAN: Spartans!
DUNCAN: Will you stop calling us that!
KING CAILAN: Prepare for glory!
[Cailan lashes out with his blade, cutting down two genlocks with one level strike across their necks. On the return, he drives the sword into the gut of an emissary before kicking the body to the ground.]
KING CAILAN: This is our time, men! The Beacon of Ishal is lit! [He points to the tower.] Now, we only need to wait for Loghain to help us finish this! The Blight nears its end.
THE SOLDIERS: Yay.
[Up on the ridge...]
[Loghain watches as light blooms from the Tower of Ishal, and the thousand soldiers at this back grow restless.]
LOGHAIN: Sign...the receipt.
[Loghain's lieutenant looks over at him.]
LIEUTENANT WHO: What?
LOGHAIN: You heard me.
LIEUTENANT WHO: I did, but I don't think you said what you had meant to say.
LOGHAIN: What did I say?
LIEUTENANT WHO: Sign the receipt.
LOGHAIN: Really?
LIEUTENANT WHO: Yep.
LOGHAIN: That's somewhat disturbing.
LIEUTENANT WHO: Good thing we have NHS, you can get it checked out when we get back to Denerim.
LOGHAIN: Good thing, that. Sound the retreat, would you?
LIEUTENANT WHO: Without question or dissent.
LOGHAIN: Make that my army's official motto.
LIEUTENANT WHO: Yes, sir.
[Loghain's army quits the field.]
[Sucks, because back at the battle...]
KING CAILAN: This can't be happening!
DUNCAN: Loghain has betrayed you, Your Majesty!
KING CAILAN: What? No, I think Shakespeare survived being catapulted. [He shakes his fist.] Get back here and fight like a man you sod!
[An ogre emerges from the fray and rips Cailan from the battlefield.]
DUNCAN: Your Majesty!
KING CAILAN: Is this how it ends? Is this how the Therin bloodline is silenced? At least it ends, now, with a king worthy of its make.
DUNCAN: Well, actually...
KING CAILAN: What?
[The ogre looks over as well.]
DUNCAN: You have a brother.
KING CAILAN: What now?
DUNCAN: You have a brother!
[Cailan nods a few times.]
KING CAILAN: Well, fu—
[The ogre kills him and tosses him aside.]
DUNCAN: NOOOOOOOO—Kugh... [He starts coughing.] Gah, damn. CAILAN!
[Duncan leaps at the ogre and his blades pierce the creature's flesh without yield. He climbs his way up to the thing's neck, rage building brilliantly in his eyes, and strikes home with his dagger. Dark blood arcs over the field, and the monstrous ogre hits the ground dead.]
DUNCAN: I did that.
[But looking around, Duncan's small triumph appears to have been in vain, as the lines of the Royal Army vanish before his eyes. A hurlock with a massive axe approaches. Weak from the fight with the ogre, Duncan can do nothing but look on as his death approaches.]
DUNCAN: And so, Duncan can do nothing but look on as his death approaches. And death happens to be wielding a rather intimidating axe. He reflects upon his long, fulfilling life and finds himself at peace after so many years on the road. His last thoughts are of his apprentices up in the Tower of Ishal, on the future of Ferelden, and on whether or not people will notice when Duncan suddenly stops narrating the game. There are some things that will have to happen without him.
[The genlock swings.]
DUNCAN: With my last breath, I curse Alista—
[Back at the tower.]
WARDEN: Okay, if you can guess which number I'm thinking of, then I'll let you open the door.
ALISTAIR: What? Why? Just let me see...
WARDEN: Nope! Guess a number.
ALISTAIR: Two.
WARDEN [astounded]: How the hell did you guess that?
ALISTAIR: You haven't stopped talking about Morrigan.
WARDEN: Oh, right.
ALISTAIR: Can I look now?
WARDEN: By all means.
[Alistair opens the door, looks, and closes it in one motion.]
ALISTAIR: Hey, I have an idea. Let's keep this closed forever.
[The darkspawn break through the door. An arrow flies through the room and strikes you in the chest. You sing some delirium-inspired folk song and black out.]
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