The Other Lives We May Lead
"And so is the Golden City blackened
With each step you take in my Hall.
Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting.
You have brought Sin to Heaven
And doom upon all the world."
-Threnodies 8:13
-349 Ancient (814 TE)
The Tevinter Imperium
The rot was thick in the air: vile, heavy. It left the taste of death in the mouths of the Imperium; the highest nobles could not wash out the tang with their finest wines. The infection of the chaos was spreading.
Those in the center most of the city did not apprehend the depth of the situation, not fully, but those closest to the edge saw the necrosis of the neighboring lands flesh; it fell apart with each footstep and bubbled with disease, all in silence. Any sound shot off into the world was nothing but deafening noise; it caused vibrations but produced no pitch, the realm was fleeting into darkness. The music stopped playing, words stopped being spoken, raw emotion took over all semblance of communication: a demonic stare, a revolting smile, a sour laugh. The life of the city refused to stop, refused to succumb to the infection that was slowly invading their sterile environment yet with each passing day the streets grew darker and the nobles grew quicker.
The south was dwindling, not that it mattered their southern brethren were being slaughtered, it was a necessity for their survival, like failing limbs being amputated; it just meant that the Imperium was next. Soldiers prepared for battle, gathering up strength, mustering courage and faith where none could now be found; their Gods had failed them.
The inner city fell into political turmoil, as the treachery of the Gods was irresistible to the gossiping slaves who wanted nothing more than to see their masters' fall in anguish, even if it meant their own demise. From the inside out, the city began to turn on itself. Rebellions rose up, throwing away the religion they so meticulously crafted for the Tevinter native. Those in magical power, the magisters, began beckoning entities from beyond the veil, mercilessly slaying those who opposed them.
The wars waged on within the Imperium boarders and throughout Southern Thedas with no indication of relent; death was the only welcomed answer for the weak that saw no reasoning.
-350 Ancient (815 TE)
Edges of The Tevinter Imperium
They were mangled in appearance and soaked in the blood of their victims; they wore death like a perfume and human entails like their skin. They attacked with no formation or any rational; their goal was to satisfy an insatiable hunger that they not knew even about. To the South, they were the embodiment of what happens when a mage seeks too much power and though that is a viewed limitedly shared by most, they are agreed upon as upmost abominable creatures reeking havoc on the lands; they are darkspawn.
The first soldiers to take notice of the creatures vomited in repulsion at their sight, they were quickly slain, as their heads were downturned. The creatures grew in numbers and strength as the soldiers went down one by one, their blood covering the attackers like new war paint, frank and viscous. The battlefield was tainted with bodily fluids from both sides; the taint from the creature's blood causing secondary sordid consequences on those who survived the first blow, none seemed safe, even in the death of their aggressors.
Fear replaced the rot in the air, giving rise to contempt and madness, hanging thicker and heavier than the corruption there just before. Some were still praying, offering little trinkets they had hid away or even the blood of a loved one, just to make it all stop; alas, still no prayers were answered.
Chaos rang on; it obliterated the boarders of safety and moved its way into the bowels of the city. It marched through the market, through the most extravagant homes, it smeared its pollution on every exposed surface, and suffocated every clean corner; except for one. A brave slave scurried through the cracks, harvesting up the pieces of information his master had requested, picking through the bones of the fallen and making meaning of the marks.
The magister, as cunning as any rouge, found a way to reap the profits of the chaos,"karios, amicus meus" he spoke to the silence, "karios, Dumat sit super nos.".
Author Notes:
*Disclaimer: I own nothing in this chapter related to the concept of DA. I am but a humble servant to the cause and just want to share some stories.
*KARIOS is greek terminology used to expresses the importance of any moment in time. A quick google search will throw you whatever you need (:
*Latin! I'm a tad bit rusty, but again another lovely google search and you shall be given the information you require!