Dragon Age: Ballad of the Sick Bard
Author's notes: To commemorate one of my favorite in personal opinion series of games, this is dedicated by having a 'fell from the modern world' story typical of fashion. So I guess enjoy this small fanfic, takes place in between Dragon age 2 and the newest installment, continuing from there.
The man sleeps then wakes up in the new world. The pairing is somewhat decided.
Disclaimer: Dragon Age is owned by the Biowarians, and they do fine work too…good thing EA gave them more time on their games than force churn out cash now, keep it up EA and you may get more respect with future endeavors.
They say the best stories collected across the winners of battles, the conquerors and the kings who emerge from conflicts unscathed while others burn and cackle in fire and ash, or even the winners of duels of influence in the ballroom to the political backdoors where betrayal and mutual agreements are made. These following are what we perceive to be the 'real' history of the world, and in many cases this appears to be the very truth circulating among the world today…we create our truths and we make many demands out of these histories, we counter and argue the facts of our ancestors who do not even need to turn in their graves for any reason than chuckling at the very people who debate and want to theorize what seems to align with our interests.
This tale cannot be repeated, nor can it even be spoken of to anyone in my world now…only my words can be read to a certain amount of people, special people. People who did make an impact and my small travels with them and the experiences I gathered will be enough to be witnesses to the story I spin, for only within their circles will it be the version that is most agreeable with them.
All I can say is, it isn't the most unbelievable story that anyone can lay claim over.
But damn if it isn't fun to debate.
-from the private letters of Cruz, 'The sick bard of Orlais'
To be honest, Cruz was not expecting himself to be awake anytime soon, the lull of the night still fresh in his mind as he laid back to rest his overworked body from a day of progress and work coupled together. He sniffed the air trying to wave away the particles of dust visible in the small ray of light that shone through the window, the covers shifting over his body in small tidal waves in accordance to his body turning over to the side the rough sheet's bristling hairs itching his skin as it brushed against him causing another moan of annoyance.
"God, no mother, I want to sleep just a bit longer." He replied in response on instinct, the man suddenly feeling the familiar raw sensation sticking to his throat before the irritation soon produced the desired effect from the young man who coughed out irregularly.
"Damn it, where is it?" The young man shifted his head opening his crusted eyes as he wiped the underside of his eyelids with his index finger, the exhaustion of the night beginning its fall as wave after wave of it began to give into energy as Cruz reached out his hand blindly wandering over towards the end table to his right where he recalled always placing the medicine bottle onto the surface every night before he slept. However, much to the man's and someone else's own surprise it seemed that the future of Cruz would be on a new path, and it all began here in the wake of daylight over the horizon.
It began with a grope, and a scream that echoed through the small building that wasn't his home. However Cruz could say no more as his crusted eyes still blurry from the short duration of sleep that he even managed to get was soon covered by the slam of a large book on his face.
Flashback
The night was one bad night for one Cruz, the man stumbling into the room almost aimlessly his thoughts aiming for the bed but not before he took out the bottle of medicine and slammed it unceremoniously onto the wood, muttering incoherent insults as he did so opting to put off the bed for now.
"Stupid manager, what does he know about my condition? Can't work properly he says, I can when I take the medicine it works for 24 hours for freaking…gah, this isn't going to get me anywhere." Cruz yelled out as he flopped onto the bed his mind already beginning to hurt from the combination, not wanting to even connect his mind to other insults that he could gather towards the man who had wronged him not many hours before. Shaking his head Cruz tried to close his eyes before a stray thought came to his mind causing him to make a really thin frown in that regard as he shook off that thought.
I wish Mother were here, she may have been a person who was a bit of a jerk sometimes, even less tactful but she was smart if nothing else.
"No, I don't want to remember that…she is gone, I shouldn't even be grieving." Cruz shook the thoughts out of it, his mind drawing an automatic blank at that memory not wanting to see the face of his mother again lying peacefully in the casket almost about two years ago, it wasn't something he wanted to recall right down to the finest detail. His father was already too spaced out and sometimes regretful, even sometimes sorrowful as he was without her, to mention her was a topic that the family never seemed to touch on and it was good enough for Cruz too…he wanted to grieve in his own way. As if to soothe his own troubles, the dark haired man reached out and grabbed a pill feeling the pit in his stomach suddenly shooting up towards his own throat in a raw sticky feeling he knew all too well.
"*cough*…" Cruz kept his volume down, or at least attempted to do so without alerting anyone to his own presence and the condition that he had putting the bottle of medicine down on the end table with a gentler touch.
"Seems that Mother's legacy lives on in me now…ha, if only she knew." Cruz shook his head as he joked to himself, his smile was wry with hidden emotions as he took off his jacket and went into the bathroom grabbing the set of clothes that he himself had prepared not too long ago before he left for the day. Stepping into the shower after removing his work clothes into a small pail which he reserved just for used clothing, Cruz turned on the valve allowing the warm water to refresh his body grabbing the soap bar that was left in the small covered box on a small plastic ledge and smoothed the soft soap on his slightly rough skin enjoying the short luxury that he had. When he was done with it, he grabbed the pail not bothering to even dry his hair as he walked out in a small dark colored t-shirt with the symbol of a Jewish Star of David completed with a heart overshadowing it wearing a crown of light above like a beam of hope. The pants he wore were thin fabric made for running, waterproof to avoid any wet circumstance and prevent cold from setting in on a hot summer's day which was Cruz's favorite kind of wear for most of the year until winter breezes came to chill them to the bone.
"After this, a well night's rest for me and no more stress for the day…that's a good plan right there," Cruz spoke hesitantly as he felt his tiredness seeping into his body, the young man falling onto the bed surface feeling the soft cushioning mattress welcome his exhausted body. As he did so, he resisted to cough spittle into his bed once more as he rolled over to face the ceiling leaving himself alone to his own thoughts as if considering something, his eyes roaming over to a small desk in front of the bed where a computer sat atop staring at its owner with a blank gaze.
"…now that I think about it, it is seven at night." Cruz spoke with a sly smirk, his head inclining to the machine that sat motionless at his approach. "And my father is not around for the night and my sister is asleep…maybe three modest hours of decent Dragon Age Inquisition pre-ordered material shouldn't hurt me for a bit since everyone is sleeping peacefully." Cruz's smile got bigger as his finger playfully stroked the power button as if he was contemplating something important, Cruz took one more glance over his shoulder to see his closed door for a hidden agreement before his finger pushed the button.
Looking back on hindsight, this was probably the one time that Cruz never appreciated pushing a button, for as soon as he did so the computer suddenly burst to life with an unknown energy filling the room without a noise as Cruz put his arms out of himself his eyes widening in shock.
Dream
"What's going on here?" The blurred image of a figure in peculiar armor ran into the large courtyard, the figure staring up at the floating body of the religious leader of the Chantry grinding to a halt in their tracks as the ominous presence of yet another being attracted the attention of the lightly armored person staring in a mixture of fear and awe.
"Run! You have to warn everyone!" The woman in clerical robes screamed out towards the only person who was alive from the initial slaughter of the inner clerics and guards. As the figure tried to find their footing the being in black now turned his dark red eyes to the only figure, his hands still raised to hold the Divine in her levitating cage merely looking at the figure like it was an ant.
"It seems that we have an intruder in our midst. *sigh*," the being said as inhuman growls could be heard in the background forcing the figure in the strange outfit to step back in terror at the unknown presence, the familiar fear-stricken expression showed familiarity to the creatures that moved within the shadows of the dream. "Slay her."
It was then that Cruz felt his world go to black forcefully as a blow to his neck silenced his cries for help and confusion.
At the same time, the Fade
The Fade, otherwise known as the realm of something beyond human understanding and should not be even seen by eyes save for few who have the natural talent to do so. It has been in history a realm which was constantly seen as dangerous to some and others as a source of guidance or power to play with, to make friends in, or to be preyed on instead by the temptations of many inhuman things. Demons, spirits and the like wander this vast land filled with strangeness and yet seemingly carrying the visions of buildings considered human or part of the human world, but the fascinations of such things are mostly fatal with possessions and greed becoming all too real to handle.
Spiraling towers, twisted structures and statues paying homage to weird looking creatures alike with scattered rubble and islands of earth floating in the distant mist added to the creepy and most uncomfortable ambience there was. It was not a home for mortal men, the air thick and strangling with the sound of slime being squelched across the floor and screams of the tormented fill the realm and its blackened charred sky, no light or hope remaining in this isolated corner, or at least one of the many isolated corners where a person can truly feel alone.
It was here that she woke up to, the terror of the previous event just when the explosion hit was still ringing bells of white noise in her ears and blinding her eyes temporarily to visibility.
"…What's happening here?" The teary voice of the woman lying on the ground wondered aloud into the abyss of green and swirling mist without a scent in the world existent to fill her nostrils except the stale strangling gasps of unfiltered wind. The woman tried to rise to her feet defying the voices of her muscles trying to get her to rest, her own hands threatening to give in to the heavy weight that was now oppressing her back almost intentionally before she balled them into closed fists almost ready to punch the floor, anything that could possibly wake her from the nightmare. Pushing herself up to one knee, the woman caught her breath just as a crackling sound was heard around her pounding ears over the white noise, soft yet thunderous as the dark sky.
"I have to get out of here…come on Leora, get up now you can't lie down here and tell me you're going to give up!" The newly named Leora stood to her feet, wiping her slightly sweaty forehead. Standing tall, or if you counted standing nearly half the length of a normal man's height tall the stout woman tugged the collar of her scarf which was wrapped neatly around her neck while she stood, feeling her legs still wobbling from the impact of the explosion that consumed her vision when she fled from the creatures which were still on her tail.
"Oh no, the creatures." Spinning her head around with some of her long flowing copper hair sticking to her forehead slightly blinding her vision, Leora pushed the stray strands to see nothing but darkness around her no sign of light present in the horizon of…anywhere really. Coupling the idea that the Fade was now torn wide open to influence the space where the Conclave was directly, this wasn't really a good time for Leora. To make it worse, her boss wouldn't be excited to hear what happened here and she really needed to write up a report for him on the deal going sour…Leora grumpily crossed her eyebrows at that, furrowing with distaste at the Carta thug. She had smacked him over the head once when he tried to touch her in places no man should venture, and nearly earned his wrath had he not been that wasted to even recall the incident the morning after to care about the pain in his balls, nor did anyone want to tell on her due to the fact she had been the only female recruit since the rest were assigned elsewhere and a raid by angry Templars killed the remaining three in her branch. If anything goes, a way out for her and away from those leering men would have been her top priority over everything else…she was a Carta packmule, but never did she want to be some woman in the alleyways providing services of the most disgusting kind. The thought frightened and motivated her to do better.
"I can't see anything here."
"Who's there?" The voice of a man answering as if to her question made her mind and stomach churn with a sense of panic and fright, the Carta employee looking around to her left and right and her back making sure she wasn't just hearing the voice of anything sinister.
"Who is that speaking?" The copper-haired woman wondered, just before a soft male whisper called out to her right, the woman turning swiftly to catch a glance of white and the palm of a human.
"This isn't real or at the very least, I hope it isn't…follow me if you need to, little dwarf." The voice announced briefly before the darkness began to fade away as a flash of green and flame fell at her feet the sound of her boot hitting something hard alerted Leora to the item in question. Picking it up, she could barely make out the handle of a large torch the light source giving her some comfort before she stared ahead seeing a path of rock molding into a narrow walkway.
"What the fuck was that?" Almost uncertain of what she could find, the dwarf slowly stepped into the direction of the road after realizing the earth she stood on was nothing but pure darkness, the empty abyss was already scaring her nerves as it was as she followed the strange voice and apparition though a secret hope told her that she could trust the man's voice. The eventual hiss and cackling of demons helped the woman make her choice, immediately running a distance down the long narrow precarious road.
An unknown amount of time passed
Walking down the road of narrow straight was something that comforted and scared the shit out of Leora as she continued to use the source of flame to guide her step, happy that the range of visibility was quite far to light up the way. However the voices that she heard on this short and hopefully she did think it were short journey were more than unnerving for anyone to hear.
"These must be what those humans dream when they go to sleep every night." Leora muttered to herself privately as she treaded lightly, not believing what she was bearing witness to. Dwarves were never really dreamers...well they were like anyone else, from the stereotyped according to Orlesian and Fereldan nobles snickering and pointing out the somewhat obsession of drink and dwarves like Orlesians and murder complimenting one another. They had normal dreams like anyone else, not like the tales spun about greed, gold and power under the beards and business demeanor they held like a natural instinct for good opportunities and skill...however the Carta in Leora's opinion were too common and so fell under scrutiny and the stigma began about being drunks and just brawlers with nothing to do with their spare time. She had heard many stories from mages and what not, their faces twisted in horror and their fingers twiddled in rhythm recalling the horrific detailing of such things, the tales of demons and close possessions did frighten her on occasion with good reason...but to see it up close and personal, she could understand why the apostate mages shudder and close their ears with their hands sometimes as if not wanting to let something be heard in some cases.
The mention of it drew more frowns from Leora. The bickering war between the mages and templars were reaching new heights with each side becoming more ruthless and more determined in their stride to enforce their ideals through blood and fire, the Carta found itself a booming business opportunity when they heard of the falling Circles and the destruction of the Kirkwall Circle by the Knight Commander and her fabled red lyrium blade. Leora was present when the leaders met to discuss splitting business two ways, a way of settling rivalries as well as make coin by helping both sides in their war from the shadows and the allowance of leaders and their followers to use deadly force against each other if necessary. It made her uneasy, but also at the same time Leora knew that the conflict was one of great importance than smuggling lyrium to both sides in a double back alley deal down by the Conclave...so she had decided to break rank and see this discussion for herself a few hours earlier, Leora frowning and shaking her head sadly at the vast disagreements and arguments from both sides, eager to see the other pay for their transgressions on the field of diplomacy.
Then there was the Divine, sitting in the middle of the two factions ready to leap at a moment's notice to intervene should she need to. And that happened, a lot in fact. The discussion was already commencing with sour tensions between the two and as time went on Leora had an idea of the politics driving the leaders in this conflict...how she wished at the time that she could have done this instead of being some run of the mill smuggler. She could make a difference if she was one of them, but she could neither use magic nor even much less be recruited by a human organisation with their own biases like the Templars and their Chantry order, if she had the chance Leora promised things would change if she could lend her perspective.
Now she was beginning to regret those words.
"Father, what the fuck is that?" The new voice caught Leora's attention, the dwarf now looking around waving the flame as her sharp ears picked up the sound and syllable of the voice with precision as her mouth began to form into an 'o' of surprise. "That voice is the same guy who led me here!"
"I…son, it is a locket from your mother to you. She wanted you to have it as a dying wish."
"You mean it is a chain to the past, what she can do and what she is capable of doing to me." The man's response spread a chill down Leora's spine as the thud of hands slamming onto wood began to ring out as she paused in her step, unable to continue as the voice of the second presence spoke harshly. "Son, behave, your mother would not have wanted you to turn out like this-"
"To turn out like what, the very person I have become? You knew well enough what she could do to you and me and even Jonathan, she manipulated my life through lies and even subtle messages that I am controlled by her own successes. Why can't you just see that not everything works out in your favor, father? Why or what in your right mind told you that I could be treated like this? Would I be that successful?"
"If I knew what these standards and treatments would do to help you be this person now, I would do it again to ensure that the best is for you."
"According, by the fucking way, to your own country's standards of success and throwing away the thrash who struggle or are unable to, or even cripple those already crippled by monetary issues and other stigmas of failure…success drives people mad, you saw what happened to Jonathan? He was once a fucking success story, and then what? The pressure from you and the country drove him to a drooling mess on the fucking floor." Leora had to flinch as a resounding slap echoed through the abyss, the sound itself painting a mental picture for her before the voices receded, but not before the voice of the man's father sounded pained and yet conflicted.
"Your mother and I, and this country did what was best for you…your brother Jonathan was not strong enough to meet their expectations, that means he is to be taken care of in a home that provides recovery. I would send you there myself, if only you lost your mind too but it seems that reality isn't enough for your childish mind to handle."
"Good to fucking know, at least now you are honest with your antagonistic feelings for me…your own failure of a son unable to match expectations of both father and fucking country. I hope you are satisfied with yourself, this isn't over." The man's voice faded, Leora almost losing her panic over the threat of pursuers just to focus on that one conversation her grip tightening on the torch as she soldiered on unable to really think about what happened back there.
The best question she wanted to ask herself was: what was the point of this particular conversation that struck her so hard and personal? What was the intention behind showing such a private matter? But just as the dwarf turned the corner where the road ended and a cliff wall had rose up to protect her left from falling to certain death, her own perceptive questions began to be lost on her as she stared at the sight before her.
The first thing she noticed was the rocky wall that rose up in a ritualistic fashion with spikes prodding out like a defensive fortress, the structure a short distance from her corner as she wandered towards it seeing the bright space of green exposed at the very top of it all. As she did, her eyes caught sight of something that she was not really expecting to see, and the sight frightened and awed her altogether as she tried to rub it from her own two open eyes.
"What the f-?"
"I see, so this is what happened." The voice of the male she had heard not too long before came to the fore, the presence of the man suddenly appearing in front of the very target of her eyes, the dwarf feeling her own throat go into a lump as she stopped in her tracks watching the outline of the man standing across from a brightly dressed woman in Chantry robes pointing a finger at her speaking in hushed voices.
"Who or what is that?" Leora wondered aloud as she made her way towards the base of the rocky structure, beginning her ascent. As she did the voices became more intelligible to hear as she crept up the narrow road towards the top.
"You are nothing but a false god, so go ahead and do what you want to do. The Old Gods are nothing but a lie, and so are you." Leora stopped her mind unable to process the sharp harsh jab by the male voice towards the spirit just as her foot slipped kicking down several stones onto the bottom before the sound of an inhuman screech sounded behind her, the dwarf whipping her head behind to eye the approaching creatures coming towards her.
"Shit." Leora cursed under her breath as she desperately climbed up, the two figures coming into full view now staring down at her while the male companion snorted gesturing to the dwarf almost insultingly towards the woman as he looked upon her his expression hardened.
"Oh good, your chosen one is here." The man said sarcastically, her eyes trailing to the man who was dressed in strange clothing while the spirit looked on reaching her hand out to Leora passively ignoring the man who then spat on the ground grinding the dirt with his shoe. "Enjoy her while it lasts, spirit. I know you will not be so lucky next time in your lies." Saying this, the male disappeared through the torn green portal, but not before he turned his head back to glance at the dwarf showing a bit of sadness in his own expression just as her hand touched the spirit's hand.
"Meet me in Orlais."
The next thing that Leora knew was the bright flashing light and the hard stone floor.
With Cruz, unknown location
"Ow, mother…" Cruz spoke almost heatedly as he rubbed his head, the man secretly glad that he didn't know what he had touched until the deed was done. However much that Cruz desired in his young life of 25 years of age to be one of the few men, or many men, willing to lay hands on the female body itself Cruz wasn't that lucky when it came to dates instead walking out as friends of the women he would date for that one day. In fact Cruz was close to admitting defeat that he wouldn't work it out, though due to his upbringing his parents would have disagreed to him doing almost anything if they had a say in what he wanted.
However what he was hearing right now…
"Sister, the nobles will be talking about this for months on end had any of the servant girls seen it! You're just lucky this isn't Orlais or else the theories and the scandal accusations…"
Well that kind of killed the very dream he wanted to have a good committed loyal wife to touch.
End
Author's notes: Lemme know what you think, this is pretty much the first chapter. I am kind of sick, headaches and sorts but hey this is commemorating a series I like and though I was a late fan with only the games and no books to make me understand some of the characters, I bet many are excited for it.
Btw, are any of you readers fans of the series? Just tell me what you think of the series so far, has it exceeded your expectations? Dashed it somewhat, or did it address all the plot holes you could point out in Origins?
Comment and don't be afraid to say what you mean, though harshness should be toned down at least.
Have a good day guys,
VI