Post by Knightfall on Feb 24, 2010 4:04:05 GMT 1
This was a Dragon Age parody that I had been working on when I was still obsessed with the lore of the game. I'm not so much anymore (at least not until the expansion) so I figured you guys might get a small kick out of it.
"And So It Begins" by Knightfall1138
Prelude: Days Long Gone
I was born eighty-seven years ago. For sixty-five years, I've ruled as Tamriel's emperor—but for all these years, I have never been the ruler of my own dreams. I have seen the gates of Oblivion, beyond which no waking eye may see.
Behold, in darkness, a doom sweeps the land.
This is the twenty-seventh of Last Seed: the year of Akatosh four thirty-three. These are the closing days of the Third Era...and the final hours of my life.
But this is not the game you will be playing. Your destiny lies far from here, on the poorly-rendered plains of Ferelden, where circumstances are unfolding that threaten to send you headlong into a conflict that will decide the fate of your world.
Be wary of the path set at your feet, for it grows dark as the taint spreads throughout the land. And always remember the game that was long left behind—The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion—and know that you can always come back to it. I will keep the jail cell vacant in anticipation of your return, and I shall be praying to the Nine that you are most swift in your decision.
Make it so.
Chapter One: Magi Origin
You were born under fonder circumstances, to a family that had spoiled you silly and offered to buy you your own castle on the northern shores of Ferelden. That fate, sadly, was crushed on your sweet sixteen when you discovered that you could light things on fire with your mind. Your parents were devastated, and your boyfriend suffered third-degree burns when he went to kiss you goodbye.
Your castle was donated to charity, and you lamented for several years afterward.
In accordance with the Chantry's wishes, you were sent to join the Circle of Mages at the aptly-named “Circle Tower,” where 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**.”
Ah, it appears my monologue was censored for language. Their reach is far greater than I had anticipated. You win this round, mages.
Today is the day of your Harrowing. The word has a capital letter, which means it's something that you probably won't be able to grasp without explanation. And given that these intros are supposed to be brief, I won't be the one to explain it to you.
Welcome to the Circle—the power to command the forces of magic is yours, at a price.
And if you're still reading in the voice of Patrick Stewart, I suggest that you cut it out.
–
Neria Surana ascended the final steps of the staircase and emerged into the high keep of the Circle Tower. The air was electric; saturated with the aura of magical forces. The surrounding windows had been cracked open, allowing the mist of the surrounding cloud-cover to seep inside. The scene was ominous and near-frightening.
She approached the center of the room, where the templars stood in heavy armor with blades dutifully in hand. There was no sympathy in their eyes, only determination. This moment is what they lived for: to maintain the balance between the physical realm and the Fade. They were the soldiers on the front line of that particular struggle, and they were proud to have been chosen for such an honor, and infinitely humbled to serve the Chantry.
“Dead woman walking on the green mile!” one of the templars shouted, with much undue enthusiasm. “Take a look at this sword, boys, because this is the one that's gonna do her in.”
Knight-Commander Greagoir slapped the shouting templar over the head. “Subtlety, you dolt.” He grimly addressed Neria as she entered. “Forgive my underling, miss. He knows not his place—nor the place I'll be stabbing him if his trap doesn't stay shut.”
The other templar made a zipping motion across his own lips.
“It's quite alright,” Neria replied, pushing her stark white hair back over her knife-like ears. “But is someone going to explain what this Harrowing is before I am taken by it?”
“Perhaps I can explain that.” It was First Enchanter Irving, an older human. He had a dried, wrinkled face, grayed hair, and an unimpressive name compared to others you'll find later in the game. “The Harrowing is a trial that all mages of the Circle must eventually face. It is the final test of your apprenticeship and, should you survive, you will have attained your rank as a fill Circle mage.”
“That was a brief explanation,” Neria replied. “I'm surprised the narrator didn't want to explain it during the intro.”
“That's because he's a ding-dong.” Irving sighed. “Are you ready to enter the Fade?”
Neria stopped in her tracks. “What's the Fade?”
Irving coughed. “Oh, well it's the realm that runs parallel to our own. We enter it whenever we sleep and it's where we end up when we eventually pass on. It's the afterlife, where you will fight demons to prove yourself.”
“Demons?” Neria was starting to get annoyed. “What demons?”
“Did I not explain any of this to you during the tenure of your apprenticeship here?”
“Obviously not, because all of this is news to me.”
“You'd think that'd be something that I would have explained at some point.”
“You'd think!” Neria snapped.
Irving groaned, and motioned to the templars to give him a minute. “In the Fade, there are good and evil spirits. The evil spirits are constantly trying to escape, and mages are their only exit, due to their natural connection to the Fade. Should a mage ever lose control of their power, an evil spirit can take advantage of this and use that connection to take possession of the mage's body—thereby creating an abomination.”
“Ah.” Neria pointed to the templars. “So that's what they're here for—just in case I turn into an abomination while my spirit's in the Fade.”
“Exactly.”
“Sounds a lot more complicated than that.”
“It is, but you'll learn everything you need to know eventually. You can do this by either by referring to your codex or by purchasing Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne from your local bookstore.”
“I read that!” Neria exclaimed. “That was a good book.”
“A very good book.”
“An awful lot of exposition from an author who excels at dialogue. Seemed counterproductive, but it was definitely readable.”
“This isn't the time for a review, Neria. It's time for you to enter the Fade.”
Neria groaned. “Do I have to?”
“Did I not just explain the importance of this test?”
“Kind of, but what happens if I don't want to?”
“Then you will be made Tranquil!”
“What's a Tranquil!”
Irving facepalmed. “This is going to get really, really complicated really, really fast if we don't move along. I promise, all of this will be explained after your test.”
“Maybe the narrator was right to not attempt to explain all of that.”
“Maybe you should shut up.” Irving was obviously fighting hard to regain his composure. The templars in the room were glancing curiously in his direction, but he ignored them. “Ahem. Come, child. It is time for your Harrowing.”
Neria followed Irving across the room to a small fountain at the center of the floor. A light blue liquid bubbled up from this fountain and pooled into a perfect circle. It looked as though someone had taken a piece of the summer sky and set it before her.
“What is that stuff?” Neria asked.
Irving's hands balled into fists. “That's lyrium.”
“What's lyrium?”
“Maker help you if I have to explain one more thing to you!” Irving's face went red. “It's almost as if you're only just joining us. Like some...mystical force has taken control of you for the first time—and that force has no idea what the lore of this world is. This is frightfully unrealistic.”
Neria bit her lip. “Right,” she moaned. “I'll go ahead and touch this stuff now, if it'll get you to calm down.”
Irving sighed loudly. “Thank you,” he said. “Good luck to you.”
Looking down into the blue pool of...whatever that stuff was, Neria fought her hesitation and slipped her hand into the fountain.
"And So It Begins" by Knightfall1138
Prelude: Days Long Gone
I was born eighty-seven years ago. For sixty-five years, I've ruled as Tamriel's emperor—but for all these years, I have never been the ruler of my own dreams. I have seen the gates of Oblivion, beyond which no waking eye may see.
Behold, in darkness, a doom sweeps the land.
This is the twenty-seventh of Last Seed: the year of Akatosh four thirty-three. These are the closing days of the Third Era...and the final hours of my life.
But this is not the game you will be playing. Your destiny lies far from here, on the poorly-rendered plains of Ferelden, where circumstances are unfolding that threaten to send you headlong into a conflict that will decide the fate of your world.
Be wary of the path set at your feet, for it grows dark as the taint spreads throughout the land. And always remember the game that was long left behind—The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion—and know that you can always come back to it. I will keep the jail cell vacant in anticipation of your return, and I shall be praying to the Nine that you are most swift in your decision.
Make it so.
Chapter One: Magi Origin
You were born under fonder circumstances, to a family that had spoiled you silly and offered to buy you your own castle on the northern shores of Ferelden. That fate, sadly, was crushed on your sweet sixteen when you discovered that you could light things on fire with your mind. Your parents were devastated, and your boyfriend suffered third-degree burns when he went to kiss you goodbye.
Your castle was donated to charity, and you lamented for several years afterward.
In accordance with the Chantry's wishes, you were sent to join the Circle of Mages at the aptly-named “Circle Tower,” where 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**.”
Ah, it appears my monologue was censored for language. Their reach is far greater than I had anticipated. You win this round, mages.
Today is the day of your Harrowing. The word has a capital letter, which means it's something that you probably won't be able to grasp without explanation. And given that these intros are supposed to be brief, I won't be the one to explain it to you.
Welcome to the Circle—the power to command the forces of magic is yours, at a price.
And if you're still reading in the voice of Patrick Stewart, I suggest that you cut it out.
–
Neria Surana ascended the final steps of the staircase and emerged into the high keep of the Circle Tower. The air was electric; saturated with the aura of magical forces. The surrounding windows had been cracked open, allowing the mist of the surrounding cloud-cover to seep inside. The scene was ominous and near-frightening.
She approached the center of the room, where the templars stood in heavy armor with blades dutifully in hand. There was no sympathy in their eyes, only determination. This moment is what they lived for: to maintain the balance between the physical realm and the Fade. They were the soldiers on the front line of that particular struggle, and they were proud to have been chosen for such an honor, and infinitely humbled to serve the Chantry.
“Dead woman walking on the green mile!” one of the templars shouted, with much undue enthusiasm. “Take a look at this sword, boys, because this is the one that's gonna do her in.”
Knight-Commander Greagoir slapped the shouting templar over the head. “Subtlety, you dolt.” He grimly addressed Neria as she entered. “Forgive my underling, miss. He knows not his place—nor the place I'll be stabbing him if his trap doesn't stay shut.”
The other templar made a zipping motion across his own lips.
“It's quite alright,” Neria replied, pushing her stark white hair back over her knife-like ears. “But is someone going to explain what this Harrowing is before I am taken by it?”
“Perhaps I can explain that.” It was First Enchanter Irving, an older human. He had a dried, wrinkled face, grayed hair, and an unimpressive name compared to others you'll find later in the game. “The Harrowing is a trial that all mages of the Circle must eventually face. It is the final test of your apprenticeship and, should you survive, you will have attained your rank as a fill Circle mage.”
“That was a brief explanation,” Neria replied. “I'm surprised the narrator didn't want to explain it during the intro.”
“That's because he's a ding-dong.” Irving sighed. “Are you ready to enter the Fade?”
Neria stopped in her tracks. “What's the Fade?”
Irving coughed. “Oh, well it's the realm that runs parallel to our own. We enter it whenever we sleep and it's where we end up when we eventually pass on. It's the afterlife, where you will fight demons to prove yourself.”
“Demons?” Neria was starting to get annoyed. “What demons?”
“Did I not explain any of this to you during the tenure of your apprenticeship here?”
“Obviously not, because all of this is news to me.”
“You'd think that'd be something that I would have explained at some point.”
“You'd think!” Neria snapped.
Irving groaned, and motioned to the templars to give him a minute. “In the Fade, there are good and evil spirits. The evil spirits are constantly trying to escape, and mages are their only exit, due to their natural connection to the Fade. Should a mage ever lose control of their power, an evil spirit can take advantage of this and use that connection to take possession of the mage's body—thereby creating an abomination.”
“Ah.” Neria pointed to the templars. “So that's what they're here for—just in case I turn into an abomination while my spirit's in the Fade.”
“Exactly.”
“Sounds a lot more complicated than that.”
“It is, but you'll learn everything you need to know eventually. You can do this by either by referring to your codex or by purchasing Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne from your local bookstore.”
“I read that!” Neria exclaimed. “That was a good book.”
“A very good book.”
“An awful lot of exposition from an author who excels at dialogue. Seemed counterproductive, but it was definitely readable.”
“This isn't the time for a review, Neria. It's time for you to enter the Fade.”
Neria groaned. “Do I have to?”
“Did I not just explain the importance of this test?”
“Kind of, but what happens if I don't want to?”
“Then you will be made Tranquil!”
“What's a Tranquil!”
Irving facepalmed. “This is going to get really, really complicated really, really fast if we don't move along. I promise, all of this will be explained after your test.”
“Maybe the narrator was right to not attempt to explain all of that.”
“Maybe you should shut up.” Irving was obviously fighting hard to regain his composure. The templars in the room were glancing curiously in his direction, but he ignored them. “Ahem. Come, child. It is time for your Harrowing.”
Neria followed Irving across the room to a small fountain at the center of the floor. A light blue liquid bubbled up from this fountain and pooled into a perfect circle. It looked as though someone had taken a piece of the summer sky and set it before her.
“What is that stuff?” Neria asked.
Irving's hands balled into fists. “That's lyrium.”
“What's lyrium?”
“Maker help you if I have to explain one more thing to you!” Irving's face went red. “It's almost as if you're only just joining us. Like some...mystical force has taken control of you for the first time—and that force has no idea what the lore of this world is. This is frightfully unrealistic.”
Neria bit her lip. “Right,” she moaned. “I'll go ahead and touch this stuff now, if it'll get you to calm down.”
Irving sighed loudly. “Thank you,” he said. “Good luck to you.”
Looking down into the blue pool of...whatever that stuff was, Neria fought her hesitation and slipped her hand into the fountain.