Ancient Magics
The dirt path had been well trodden. Impressions in the moist soil stayed from the travelers that had used the way for their own reasons. It was an oddity for the people of the land, the routes being all but abandoned after the tragedies that befell the area. Walls of trees blocked the way from both sides. It forced travelers to move in a singular direction, forward.
Now, the path once again served a traveler as he made his way toward his destination. He stayed silent, eyes set forward in stoic determination.
The horse he rode trotted forward as it was directed. It was a slow ride, but nearly half the day was spent in a fast gallop and the animal's stamina was beginning to dwindle. He saw no reason to deny the creature a resting, slow pace to finish the last lengths of his trip.
Everything was eerily silent, the forest surrounding him held its breath as he passed. Even when knowing his target was still a distance away, the unnatural unease that was left behind in the wake of such heinous acts stretched far. It pained the traveler to wade through it all, his mind buzzing noisily with regret for his own part in what occurred in the once peaceful land.
Soon, the seemingly endless sea of trees broke to reveal a large clearing. Signs of civilization were made clear as the traveler neared them. Small cottages lined the road in an organized manner, leading the way to the center of the small village. Not a soul could be seen, the area was deserted.
The sound of shutters closing broke the silence as the traveler went by. As if they could innately sense an outsider's presence, the occupants of the humble homes peered out their windows to catch a glimpse of their newest visitor. Immediately recognizing his black armor and facial features, the people shut themselves back inside, a glimmer of hope being left behind.
It didn't surprise him. Hope was something that shadowed him for some time. It left him with the need to meet the expectations his reputation gave to people. Never before had he felt so undeserving of it.
A quaint tavern stood out amongst the simple structures of homes. The traveler could see smoke rising from the chimney, the windows alight with an orange glow. A sigh of relief escaped him as he slid off the saddle he had been stationed on for so long, deciding he could lead the horse the last few feet, happy to stretch his legs.
With its rider gone, the horse began to shift back and forth in place. Grunts of unease and the beginning stages of panic were forced out through the horse's thick breathing.
The traveler caught the distress the beast was feeling, immediately standing at its side. “Easy girl,” he whispered, gingerly running his hand across the horse's neck in an attempt to calm it. The traveler knew what was causing it, he could feel it too. There was a unbearable feeling of despair emanating through the very streets of the village, sucking away any positive emotion that dared to make itself known. The air itself was tainted with the stench of blood.
“Commander Cousland!” a voice called out, followed quickly by the rushing of feet across the ground. The titled commander turned to see an armor-clad elf approaching him. A large iron shield was strapped to his arm, a painted depiction of a gryphon on the surface, the symbol of the Grey Wardens.
The commander acknowledged his fellow Warden. Standing before him, the elf bowed his head momentarily in respect.
“I'm glad to see you've made it, Commander,” said the Warden.
“Is the captain nearby?” the commander asked, looking about the area for any signs of the other Wardens he had been expecting.
The elf shook his head. “No, sir, the captain took the others to scout the perimeter in the targeted area.”
Commander Cousland grimaced as he rubbed his eyes. “That fool will probably see fit to burn it down if he gets the faintest idea it'll help.” Pausing for a moment, the commander's eyes drifted toward the welcoming door of the tavern. “Have they arrived as well?”
“Yes, they have been waiting for your arrival.”
Nodding in approval, the commander looked back to the elf. “Could you take my horse? I must speak to the others before we set off and she is in need of water and a rest.”
“Of course, sir,” the Warden replied, accepting the reins as they were handed to him and leading the horse away. The commander then headed for the tavern. It was just as silent as the rest of the town, the only noise he could hear was the sound of his own footfalls on the creaking steps leading inside.
The interior was as cozy as any tavern should be. A large fireplace stood off to the right side, cushioned chairs were placed before it, offering a seat to take in the warm embrace. The flame inside crackled with an intense warmth that could be felt from all corners of the building, sadly it was the most lively thing in the village. Simple tables with matching chairs were strewn about, giving patrons their rest and enjoyment with friends. At the left side of the tavern was the bar, the large counter nearly stretched from wall to wall. Several shelves clung onto the wall behind it, holding multiple bottles of the more tasteful brews. Large barrels stood atop the counter for the cheaper, more often bought, ales.
The owner stood behind the counter, running a cleaning rag through the inside of a glass mug that already looked sparkling. His sullen gaze looked up as he heard the door creak open. His mood immediately brightened as he saw who it was. “Ah, Warden-Commander, you're here,” he said, his excitement peaking.
Before the commander could get a word in, the owner reached down into his counter and retrieved an aqua blue bottle with a silvery liquid sloshing inside. Though the commander wasn't an expert on alcohol by any means, he could tell from a simple glance how pricey the bottle must have been. It wasn't something such a small village could ever afford to acquire.
As the commander tried piecing together the sight, the tavern owner extended the bottle toward him. “Compliments of the arl,” he said, bringing the explanation to light, “he's relieved to know that you are taking care of our problem personally.”
The commander didn't move for the bottle right away, thinking on whether or not he really should. But, he soon figured that it would look as an insult if he didn't accept it. Reaching out for the bottle, the commander's hand soon retracted as another quickly grabbed the bottle and held it up with joy.
“Oh, this is a wonderful brand,” the man the hand was attached to said, examining the bottle with great interest. The robes he wore and staff slung over his back made it clear he was a mage. His dark blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, having the minimalist size one could have to make one. Stuck on his face was a smirk filled with a devious and sarcastic intent.
The mage popped the cork off of the bottle of alcohol, sniffing the contents before taking a prolonged taste. After his drink, he let out a satisfied sigh before offering the bottle to the commander.
“You keep it,” he said, watching as the mage took another sip. “Be sure to watch your drink, Anders. You're a Warden, you should conduct yourself as one.”
“Oh come on,” Anders pouted, “it's a rare age when I can actually get something to wet my lips. What with Oghren always sucking down every last drop of any supplies we get.” A soft, muffled meow could be heard from near the mage. Anders looked down to see a white cat poking its head out of the bag he had at his side. “Isn't that right, Ser Pounce-a-lot?” he said with a high pitched voice a mother might have when addressing their infant child. “That mean dwarf takes all the good stuff, doesn't he?”
A sigh escaped the commander after that, knowing that it wasn't as much of an exaggeration as he wanted it to be. “Regardless, we are going after a dangerous target. That's why I had you come here, I'll need you at your best.”
Anders looked at his commander oddly for a moment, a stare of confusion crossing him. “It's just a blood mage isn't it? I know they're a dangerous lot and all, so I get why you had us come down here. But why are you here? It all seems a little excessive for a single maleficarum.” Preparing his response, the commander was cut off as a third voice made itself known.
“Even I have to agree with the blathering dress-wearer.” Both the commander and Anders looked to the far corner of the tavern. Standing there, eying them both with a gaze of permanent disinterest, was a living statue.
The golem Shale was a sight for anyone to behold. With a body of rock and lyrium infused life, there were brightly colored crystal fragments jutting out of it's shoulders, back and forearms. It's eyes and mouth also held a bright glow, added by the radiant rune that was etched into it's forehead. There was also a large cloth wrapped around the golem's waist, ending with a loincloth that depicted the gryphon symbol of the Grey Wardens. Though unable to take part in the ritual to actually become a Warden, the commander considered the animated statue to be a good friend and invaluable ally.
“It is odd that it would seek out this perpetrator personally,” Shale continued, talking in it's usual hollow echo of a voice in a bleak monotone. “Though, knowing of the intended target, perhaps it feels a responsibility for the whole affair? Like some of the blood is on it's hands? Metaphorical blood of course, since it wasn't it's intention for so many innocents to be slaughtered by it's poor choice of trust.”
Anders blinked forcibly at the what he had heard, quickly turning a questioning gaze toward his commander. The commander himself didn't answer to the questions, knowing that the golem had the answer already. Instead, he could only turn away shamefully, again feeling the painful strike of his own sins in all of this.
“What... what does Shale mean by that?” Anders asked, approaching the commander, looking him in the eyes.
The Warden in question only met the mage's gaze for split second, turning away from him to look down at the floor. “Anders I... The blood mage is- was a Grey Warden who-” Before he could finish, his hesitant voice was overpowered by the sound of horses whinnying just outside of the tavern, added by the sudden stop of a rhythmic gallop. Curiosity propelling them forward, both Anders and Commander Cousland followed the noise out of the tavern and into the streets. Shale followed close behind, disinterested in the noise, but having nothing better to do.
Both Wardens were surprised to see three horse riding visitors to the village. The surprise grew even more as they recognized the man at the lead.
“Alistair?” the commander murmured, seeing his old friend for the first time in a long while. Anders recognized him as well, it being the second time he had met the King of Ferelden.
“Ah,” the king said, his face bursting with a unbridled joy upon seeing his friend, “I was hoping I wasn't too late to see you off.” Dismounting his horse, Alistair approached the commander with a warm smile. “It's been far too long, old friend. Seeing as you never see it customary to visit. You're off having grand adventures, while I'm stuck wanting to bash my head against the throne with all of this 'kingly business' I must attend to day in and day out.” The king heaved a sigh, sounding more like the whine of a child. “Tell me again why I took this job? I've yet to see the benefit.”
“Hmph,” the Warden-Commander grunted, crossing his arms as he eyed his friend. “Well let's see now... The land almost in complete panic and anarchy, a Blight bearing down on us, a usurper drunk with power trying to take the position for himself.” With a coy expression of deep thought, he paused for a moment. “Oh, and your sister-in-law was going to execute us if you hadn't.”
Alistair frowned. “Oh yeah... I sometimes forget about that.” His frown quickly faded as he chuckled lightly. “Then again, who would I be if I didn't complain every now and then?”
The commander suppressed his own chuckle. Seeing Alistair again after so long made him pause to examine what the time apart had done to the king. He looked like the same old Alistair, though the commander did notice the slight sunken gaze in his eyes, like he hadn't been sleeping well as of late. There was also his attire, wearing a magnificent suit of silver and gold armor, added with a fine cloak he wore underneath the shoulder guards that draped behind him, all befitting royalty. Another detail didn't escape the commander's gaze as he noticed the small bit of hair that was growing on the tip of his chin, reaching up and connecting on both sides across his upper lip, it looked more like fuzz than anything.
“Armor's a bit ostentatious, don't you think?” the Warden-Commander remarked.
“I don't know,” Alistair replied, giving it a once over himself, “I think it's nice. Much better than the scrap we used to wear, actually fits my size perfectly too. Maybe you're just jealous? What with your own ragged set, surprised no one loses you in the dark with that black color.”
“What, this?” the commander asked, tapping his chest plate. “It's the same kind of armor commanders of the Wardens have used for centuries. It's like a symbol of authority. Plus... it matches my hair.” The commander smirked as he ran a hand through his black hair.”
“Right...” the king murmured, “I'll be sure to tell you if I find a bag that matches your eyes as well.”
They both shared a good laugh, feeling the nostalgic tug of their old days of adventuring together. Their laughter was suddenly halted however as one of the men who arrived with the king stepped forward. The commander could see that he was a templar, the sword insignia on his chest plate and robes at his waist giving it away easily. The man's grizzled facial scruff and short, greying hair also showed his age.
“I think the amusements can wait until after this maleficarum is dead,” he said, holding little respect in his voice despite being in the company of nobility. The Warden-Commander couldn't help but sneer subtly, already telling he wasn't going to like the man. It didn't help that the templars found it necessary to make themselves a thorn in his side ever since he brought Anders into the Wardens.
“And who is this?” the commander murmured, crossing his arms and quickly developing a combative tone.
The templar first answered with a glare. “Knight-Captain Corvick, I'm here to deal with this murderous mage.”
“Sorry, don't need you,” the commander replied with a shake of his head.
“That's not your call,” Corvick shot back. “I'm under the orders of the Knight-Commander.” An accusatory finger was lifted to point at the Warden. “We know of this blood mage and your own part in this,” his eyes shifted toward Anders, “and we know of your stance on protecting unlawful mages.”
“Anders has proven himself as a hero and a mage,” the commander retorted, his burning gaze matching that of the templar. “And this is the business of the Grey Wardens, I will not have one of you jailers here to undermine us.”
The Knight-Captain scoffed. “As I said, you have no say in the matter, Commander. Our authority circumvents your own while King Alistair is apart of this.”
“Wait...” Commander Cousland blinked, turning toward the king. “Alistair, why are you here?”
“Well, I couldn't have you going after this guy without me,” he answered in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Hold on a second,” the commander protested. “Now, Alistair, be reasonable here. There is no way I'll allow you to endanger your life. You're the King of Ferelden for Maker's sake.
Alistair's expression deadpanned for a moment. “Oh? I don't remember hearing any objections when we fought side by side against an army of Darkspawn, or when I was defending against blows from that Archdemon. I'm pretty sure I was technically the king at that point.”
The Warden-Commander looked as though he had just been struck by the ex-Warden. “Ok, that's completely different, Alistair. If something were to happen-”
“Nothing will happen,” Alistair reassured him. “And nothing you say will change my mind on this matter. It's just as much my fault this has happened. I allowed for it to happen, just as you did.” The king placed a hand on the commander's plated shoulder. “Now, we can put and end to this together.”
“Alright then, we can do this together,” Commander Cousland said, submitting to his king with a smile.
“Aw, isn't that cute, the King and Commander are softies for one another. Ha!” Alistair became surprised as he immediately recognized the gravely voice, while the commander pinched the bridge of his nose. They both turned to see a dwarf watching them. A long, braided mustache of red hair dangled from his lips while a large ax was tied to his back. Behind him stood several more Wardens, fresh from their joining who stood idle as they awaited to be issued their next orders.
“Oghren?” Alistair murmured as he approached the Warden. “You're here too?”
The dwarf gave a firm nod. “Yeah, 'course I'd be here. Surprised to see you here though, King Royal Bastard. Can't say I'm happy bout it though. Last time we met, you let us to save everyone from a sodding miniature Blight.”
“Oghren,” the commander said sternly, realizing that time was quickly ticking away, “what have you to report?”
“Didn't find anything out of the usual,” the dwarf shrugged. “Doesn't look like anyone's left the area though, he should still be there.”
Commander Cousland held his chin in thought for several moments, thinking on how to add Alistair's arrival to his plan. “Alright,” he called, addressing them all, “we're moving out. The longer we wait here, the greater the risk that he might get away. We are to head north, into the forest, until we reach our destination.” The commander then led the way into the forest, King Alistair at his side while the others followed.
As they made their way through the winding trees and uneven ground, Anders quickened his pace to be by his commander's side. “I want to know what's going on,” he said, his gaze focused on him. “Who exactly are we going after, and what is your business in all of this?”
“It's nothing, Anders,” the commander said dismissively.
“My ass it's nothing,” the mage snapped, knowing when he's being lied to.
“Look, all you need to know is that I made a decision that eventually led to this, all without me knowing that this would happen!” The commander's voice was clear in making the mage know that the topic wasn't going to be discussed further, leaving him to stay silent as they continued to trudge through the forest.
After nearly an hour of walking, they came across a small clearing. At the far end of the clearing, the entrance of a cave could be seen, looking as inviting as a monster's den. Their steps began to slow to tentative movements.
Standing at the mouth of the cave, Commander Cousland turned to his fellow Wardens. “We can only send in a few of us,” he said, pointing to his chosen few. “Alistair, Shale, Anders, Corvick and I will be the ones to go in. Oghren, I want you and the others to guard the area outside. Make sure no one comes in or out.”
“Gotcha,” the dwarf said with an affirming nod. Staying silent, Commander Cousland was the first to enter the cave, the others close behind him. As they disappeared within the stoney cavern, Oghren's booming voice could be heard outside. “Alright you sodding milk-sippers, the commander's given us a job to do! Now, I don't care what it is, be it blood mages or a squirrel with a death wish, we smash anything that gets near this entrance! Even if it's the commander and king themselves, we'll try and smash them twice as hard! Just so they know how prepared we were!”
The inside of the cave was the same as any of the other countless ones the Wardens had explored in their time, in terms of physical appearance anyway. It was a very unnerving place all the same. The silence was deafening while they were surrounded by the terrible scent of decaying flesh, making it difficult to breathe.
Alistair and Corvick each withdrew their shields and swords, preparing themselves for whatever was coming their way. The commander unsheathed the sword strapped to his back as well. His weapon was nearly as tall as he was, with an elongated handle while the blade itself was a beautiful, glassy blue in color. He gripped it tightly in his hands as they stepped lightly through the cave tunnels, finding comfort in knowing it was in his grasp.
Venturing deep within the cave, the group found themselves entering a large cavern, the walls barely visible in the darkness. The thick silence was quickly broken as they heard the sound of dripping water echoing through the chamber. As their full attention was placed into the cavern, they were shocked as they saw a large structure sitting in the center.
As they approached it cautiously, the commander's eyes widened as he realized what it was. It was a mirror, several feet taller and wider than a normal person. Set in a arched frame, their were two, large stone statues of men holding swords and wearing strange battle-skirts. A small set of stairs were carved into the base of it as well, allowing one to reach the mirror.
“What kind of demonic shrine is this?” Knight-Captain Corvick spat, looking at the strange structure with disgust.
“This isn't a shrine,” Commander Cousland said, his hand shaking as he ran it across the surface of the mirror, “it's a an Eluvian.”
“I've heard of these,” Anders murmured. “They're elven made, but were used by ancient Tevinter as a means of communication. Though allegedly, they had many more uses.”
“Like a portal,” the commander muttered without thinking. As he felt all gazes quickly turn to him questioningly, he was quick to add to his statement. “So I've heard.”
While the others were busy examining the Eluvian, Alistair's gaze wandered more around the cavern they were in. As he looked out into the darkness around him, the king's eyes fell on an object that he could barely make out, resembling a small pedestal.
Before he could approach the object, the king was stopped as he felt a droplet of water splatter onto his forehead. Wiping it with his finger, he was taken aback as he looked at it and discovered the water was a crimson red in color. His gaze instinctively looking up to the source, the king nearly collapsed onto his back as he felt his heart skip a beat. “By the Maker,” he gasped.
The others quickly followed his gaze, Anders held up his hand as a magical fire ignited in his palm, giving more light for them to see. Just like Alistair's reaction, the others looked on in horror as they saw the mass of corpses hanging from the ceiling of the cave.
There were dozens of them, some wearing the tattered rags of a peasant or villager, others donning armor of templars and mercenaries. Several of the bodies looked to be entirely decomposed while some looked as fresh as a few days ago. They all had thick chains pierced through them, keeping them suspended above the room. The watery dripping continued as, to their horror, they looked down and saw that the floor was painted in red, the bodies being bled dry.
“This... this is inhuman,” Anders breathed, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight.
Alistair was finally able to look away and keep his eyes locked onto the strange pedestal he had seen before. With the light provided by their mage, the king was able to see it much more clearly. Approaching it, his face began to tremble as he inwardly begged that what he was seeing wasn't what he thought it was.
The pedestal was nearly three feet tall with a basin resting on the top. Inside, a viscous, black liquid could be seen sitting inside. Just standing next to it, Alistair could feel an evil taint within it. Even Shale could sense it, as it began to notice the basin along with the other Wardens.
“Maker's breath,” Alistair murmured, his eyes looking into the reflective surface of the black goo. “Is this...? No, it can't be...”
“Archdemon blood.” Everyone but Shale jumped on the spot as they heard the voice echo through the cavern. Their gazes immediately shot toward the source, seeing a bald, elderly man standing on a ledge overlooking them. The robes he wore and the staff in his hand gave a clear idea as to what he was. “It took quite a long time to scavenge the wreckage at Ostagar to find it.”
“Avernus!” Commander Cousland cried, his voice risen in a furious anger.
Though the commander was quick in recognize the old Warden, Alistair was shocked to see that it was still him, seeing how much he had changed since they had last seen each other. Avernus' face was horrendously boney, as though his skin was pulled tautly around his skull to the point that any more tension would make it snap like rope. Black blotches dotted his skin, looking sickly and making the flesh look dead. His eyes were the most horrific to see, looking blank and void of any life, it was as though they were confronting a corpse.
Avernus' gaze drifted toward the commander who had shouted at him, his demeanor looking slow and uncaring. “Ah, Cousland, it has been a while.”
Before the Warden-Commander could say anything in response, Corvick stepped forward, raising his sword to point at the mage. “Blood mage, for crimes against the Maker and his children, I hereby order you to give up and submit to your execution!”
The mage looked down on him, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the armor he wore. “A templar... You're just another short-sighted fool, just like all the others.” He is gaze then shot back to the commander. “And you as well? Have you come here to put a stop to me and my work? I thought you could see the big picture in what I do, did you not partake in what my research has provided?”
The commander glared Avernus, his anger rising as he felt Ander's speechless expression on him. “That wasn't our agreement, Avernus. You were to stop with the senseless killing. This... madness ends now.”
Seeing the unbreakable resolve of the visitors, Avernus heaved a sigh as he shook his head. “No, Cousland, I'm afraid it isn't. You see, I've learned of a glorious power, trapped within the ancient Eluvians. It was imprisoned long before the time of any of us, using the oldest forms of blood magic. I had first thought it would be some time before I was ready, even with the powerful blood of an Archdemon. But thanks to you, the tainted blood of Grey Wardens will be the perfect catalyst to free this power.”
Before they could react, Avernus held out his arms and his hands pulsated with a dark red aura. Immediately, the commander and his companions felt a tight squeeze lock onto their ankles. They looked down to see the blood at their feet swirling underneath them, reaching up their feet to seize them in an iron grip.
Anders tried preforming a spell, to defend himself against the mage's attack, but nothing happened. To his terror, he found himself unable to move. The same was for everyone else. The clattering of metal arms echoed through the cavern as their bodies became frozen like statues, only able to twitch and quiver in their futile attempts at movement. It only grew worse for them as they felt their muscles tightening, clenching around their bodies in a suffocating hold. Cracks of joints being popped and bones beginning to crack sounded off. Then, the screams began.
The pain was excruciating for them all. All they feel was their own agony throughout their bodies. It felt as though every drop of blood in their veins had morphed into a knife and were stabbing them from the inside.
As their pain continued, the tainted blood of the Old God in the basin began to ripple. Within a few moments, the blood glowed with a dark aura as it was lifted from the basin and trailed through the air. Floating toward the Eluvian, the Archdemon blood slowed as it came across the screaming victims. A deep red glow flowed from out of their bodies as the blood was magically forced out of them. The trails of blood mixed with that of the Archdemon's, forming into a single mass that was brought to the Eluvian.
Pressed against the glassy surface, the blood encompassed the entirety of the mirror. An immense torrent of black smoke erupted from it. Even as they writhed in their unbearable pain, the wardens could see the dark silhouette of a nightmarish creature standing within the blackened mirror.
Avernus' excitement was palpable as he saw the ritual coming into fruition. It would only be a few more moments and everything would be done, he would seize the almighty power that was imprisoned within. From his intense concentration on his goal, it came as an unforeseeable surprise as he heard a heavy thud behind him. The mage turned to see an agitated golem standing there, it's glowing eyes set directly on him.
“It's a good thing such blood related spells don't work on those who don't have such a messy liquid,” Shale said, raising it's arm up and ready to strike.
Avernus attempted to defend himself, but it was too late. Shale's punch landed right on the spot, smashing into the mages face with a bone shattering force. With the strength placed into the blow, Avernus was sent flying. His flailing body flew through the air at an amazing speed, crashing into the Eluvian that was still under the effects of the ritual.
All that was uttered from the old mage was a soul quaking scream of unimaginable torment, his body looking as though it were disintegrating in front of them, burning away in a dark fire. As his body was turned to nothing, an ear-splitting sound of cracking glass reverberated across the cavern. A blinding light emitted from the ancient artifact, engulfing everyone within the cavern. None of them were able to see the finished result of it as their conscious minds were then submerged into an abysmal darkness.
“Come on, Spike, are you finished yet?” asked the lavender unicorn Twilight Sparkle. “We were scheduled to finish cleaning an hour ago.”
The dragon in question sighed dejectedly as he climbed a small ladder up to the topmost shelf in the library, placing the book he had in his clawed grasp into its rightful place. “There,” he said, sliding down the ladder to reach ground level, “we're all done.” The purple scaled assistant looked on with pride at his work, gazing upon the Ponyville library and its flawless state, as well as remembering the piles of books that once dotted the room.
“Thank goodness,” Twilight breathed in relief, “I was worried we would never get this place cleaned.”
“Yeah,” Spike murmured, rolling his eyes, “we.” With slow, careful steps, the dragon made sure to double check every detail in the library. He was certain that if it wasn't perfect, he would certainly hear about it from Twilight. “Maybe if you didn't make it into such a mess, you wouldn't have to worry about getting it cleaned.”
“Be reasonable, Spike,” the scholar responded, “I can't waste time in neatness when I'm having a breakthrough in my research and studies.”
The dragon simply rolled his eyes once again as he finished making his rounds. “Well, at least it's all clean now. I don't want to have to put a book away for at least a few hundred-” Spike was interrupted as he felt the ground shaking under his feet. Twilight felt it as well, the entire tree trembling from a massive force.
A tremendous earthquake rattled the library like an infant's toy, bringing fear into the occupants that their home might collapse on top of them. Spike yelped as several books fell from their shelves and nearly landed on him. The frightened dragon was quick to dive underneath a table and curl himself into a ball, whispering to himself that everything would be fine.
Twilight began dodging falling books and other objects like raindrops. It took her several minutes to find a long enough pause for her to create a small forcefield spell around herself, causing the books to simply strike the transparent barrier and topple onto the floor. Under the protection of her spell, the unicorn flattened herself on the floor and covered her eyes as the earthquake continued to turn the library into its plaything.
Thankfully the earths shuddering spasms ended quickly, causing a sigh of relief to escape both the scholar and assistant as they picked themselves up. Spike's eyes widened as he witnessed the damage that was caused. Nearly everything that wasn't bolted to the floor had fallen from their rightful places. All he could see was the wasted hours he had spent previously cleaning the library. “Oh come on!”
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Hmm...OK, I see potential in this. There are far too few Dragon Age crossovers...and "Pony Age" was mostly a retread of the game plot with ponies.
Proceed
I quite enjoyed this. Kudos,
Ok 0_0 I need more of this, depending on how you go about this i could come to love this story
Hehe funny thing is i was a blood mage
50 shades of grey warden
Yes Yes Yes Yes!!!!!
Oh, it's the expansion pack, isn't it? I'd hoped for Sten and maybe Leliana, myself...
Anyways, I don't see real problems with the editing and grammar, which is (alas) more than I could say about a lot of other fics. At the very least it shows that you respect your readers enough to proofread your works, which is always nice.
I had, however, two problems with the actual fic: one, it simply lacks liveliness. Maybe it's just me, but I don't really find the writing engaging.
And two, I just don't see where could the fic go. I know that in the Dragon Age universe people universally fear and hate mages, and this could be the base of the conflic in the fic, but you made it clear that your Warden isn't anti-magist (is that even a word?) And I can't really imagine our favorite ponies chasing the good guys away just because they happen to be human; in fact, Twilight's bound to be interested in DA-magic (and Shale. Btw, are there living construct in Equestria?)
So I guess that, unless you have something else up in your sleeve, the only conflict that could be considered is the good old "drat, I'm stuck in Equestria, how will I go back to my word?" - and that's been done a thousand times, so I'm afraid you may have a hard time if you want to write something unique and memorable.
And, uh, three... why is it tagged as [Comedy]? Correct me if I'm wrong, but it doesn't really look like a comedy
1530054 Well... I do have some pretty big sleeves...
1529413 That's actually the title of the sequel. A clopfic that involves Celestia and Alistair.
Celestial & ALASTAIR?!?!?! UBWAAAAAAAH!!!!
You've stopped me at "Shade of Grey"
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For the first chapter it is pretty well written.
Seems like a promising story, like to see more.
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Wow, I am likeing this so far, the DA characters all are acting in character and the plot hook is set nicely, cant wait to see where it gose from here
Wait a second... All of the characters... In character?
...What kind of sick, twisted demon did you make a deal with to control such power, apostate?
The only way this could get better is if a Male/Joking/Mage Hawke joined them. Though, one witty mage may be all that Equestria can manage...
The writing's utterly fantastic, though I see times where practice could make it even better. We'll see as time goes, huh?
That was certainly an interesting read. I'll definitely be keeping an eye on this, there really are too few Dragon Age crossovers on this site. Can't wait for the next chapter!
1532605 Words cannot sum up how hardly I laughed at that, so have an emote instead!
Somehow I feel flattered....
No Zevran or Sten? they were the best companions!
Equestria will never be blessed with Zevran love making and witty retorts skills
me:dragon age? WOOHOO.
metal scourge:oh thank you.I'M LOVE N IT
metal sonic: would you guys shut up i'm trying to play dragon age.
me:but metal sonic
metal scourge:this story is about dragon age.
metal sonic:....why didn't you guys tell me.
me and metal scourge:sorry.
metal sonic: it ok let read the 2nd chapter.
me and metal scourge:ok.
1530467all:........WHAT THE FUCK.
King Alistair is apart of this
All they feel was their own agony
1. Is this supposed to be A part of or the current one?
2. Felt.
Finally got to treading this and of course we all (most of us most likely) love Alistairs jokes
I've never really gotten into Dragon Age, but so far, I understand most of the stuff. This is gooooood.
>>>“Oghren?” Alistair murmured as he approached the Warden. “You're here too?”>>>
"Of course! We're going to a land of magical ponies!" the dwarf squealed happily, holding a tiny unicorn figure in his gnarled hands.
The rest of the group stopped dead and stared in utter shock as the sound of a record needle screeching blared briefly.
"Er... I mean... Rar! Gotta slay the bad guy! Rar!" Oghren's eyes darted back and forth as he feebly attempted to cover his Freudian slip.
(I can see I'm going to have fun here...)
One of my favourite games combined with ponies?
Why, I do believe that this requires a read, and hopefully a favourite/like. Fingers crossed!
Yay it's Alistair! He's so cute.
Hhmmmm LETS SEE. Ok so they get a group to heather to fight a mage...a blood mage what’s on the floor blood what’s in their bodies blood... is it me or are they increadibly stupid.