Hey guys, I've gotten really into dragon age and I was playing Dungeons and Dragons with my friends and this came to me. I've never seen another story like this on dragon age and I hope you guys like It. I do not own bio-ware or and of the Dragon age franchise.
Beowulf and Jellal entered the cavern deep under the Temple to Aronos. Jellal summoned fire in his hand as they descended an impossibly log flight of steps down into the darkness. The large Iron doors behind them closed, blocking the little light that came through, from coming through at all. It was a narrow corridor, the walls covered in drawings and depictions of the ancient race and his order's history. Beowulf summoned his bright blueish purple lightning in his hand and watched it crackle between his fingers and read the texts and pictures carved into the walls. Surprisingly, the carvings got older but more abundant the closer the the bottom of the flight they got.
There were ancient battles, depictions of gods, beast-folk, Preyth, Dragons, and the ancient race, while giving vivid illustrations of mighty golden cities with glowing sunsets. Beowulf had seen the ruins. He saw how mighty peoples these all were. Unfortunately, the beast-folk are primarily enslaved by elves, creating an inborn hatred in the free that only makes for a more and more violent people each generation. This might lead to their extinction. The preyth crossed the far sea, maybe to one day return. They were perfecting some philosophy they claimed would make a better world and a stronger people. But they also told tales of selective breeding and the introducing of new races. They might look completely different in a few generations.
The dragons? The Elves or Mere-folk hunt the more primitive specimens and force the intelligent ones far into the undeveloped land of Mundashin. The men-folk have taken to hunting them for sport since the ancient races magical blood has been awakening in them. Where did they even come from? Beowulf was half human and he himself didn't even know. They swept upon the continent of Rena like a storm in the last 7 centuries. The ancient race once had an empire spanning the planet and beyond but it fell. Civil disputes,
uprisings, monstrosities of their own creation? And then Caliph. The destroyer visited Mundashin and this was the final stone on the wall of the empire. And it fell.
There are always legends. Every single ancient possessed magic and after the collapse, they bred into the subservient races that had come to dominate the world. If you possess magic, you have ancient blood running in your veins.
All on the wall depicted this. But this was history. The present was a very dark world for the 2 indeed. Their order was hunted to near extinction and scattered all across Mundashin, but the survivors would inevitable fall. There was only one place like this one in all of Mundashin. A place that would guarantee survival.
They exited the corridor into a large chamber that was actually the cavern itself. It was one part of a city that was built by the ancient race and his order discovered it. There were old buildings being swallowed up by invasive fungi, ores, and minerals. They were ancient. tens of thousands of years old. The fungi had created their own world down here with tall mushrooms like trees that glowed and small slit like fungi that took the place of grass. There were huge colonies of glowing fungi on the ceiling of the cavern, hundreds of feet up that bathed the landscape in a ghostly blue. There was a more recent building constructed a hundred years by his order in an intersection of a road. It was relatively small.
They both knew what they needed to do. They both extinguished their hands respectively and approached the building. It was more of a spire than a conventional building.
They both wore the armor gifted to them on entry into the order. Plate-mail made of dragon bone and the chain mail holding it together, scales. They had helmets carved of dragon bone. Jellal's was painted red with blood and Beowulf's was blue with the Lyrium glowing in special places in ornate fashions.
They walked into the building. There was a singular sarcophagus looking thing on a platform. Above it on the wall was the banner of the order. The background was the night sky with a moon in the center and the suns corona peaking around. In front of that, A dragon in upward flight, exposing its belly. In front of that was a naked person on the belly of the dragon with their arms outstretched as wings as well.
They both walked over to the sarcophagus.
"You know that its you who's supposed to go inside." Jellal broke the silence with his sandpaper like voice. A slayer had plunged an axe into his neck a few years previous. It ruined his voice.
"But why me?" Beowulf asked.
"You are still young. You aren't as angry as my old self. When you awake, you are the most qualified to reforge the order. I don't remember all of the old stories, songs, histories, rituals, tactics. The only thing I could offer the next age would be my draconic tongue. And the war has given me a resentment for all elves outside the order. That would handicap me. And I'm a sanguine."
"I-I understand. Jellal, I'm scared. What awaits me in the next age? What if there are no dragons? What if I'm another monster? What if the dark swallows the world?" Beowulf asked with fear.
"Have you forgotten, Beowulf? Fear is beneath us. Fear reminds you that you are alive and tempts you to shame and broken. I am incapable of fear because of the sanguine ritual. You? You are Dimidium. You must conquer it. Now get in. I need to go die with honor and I can't leave you without sealing you in."
Beowulf sighed. "I am ready." He said as he opened the sarcophagus. The inside glowed with lyrium.
"Good." Jellal finished.
Beowulf climbed inside the sarcophagus and put himself in the sleeping position. "Lash'hiin, ver'uk'kiin." Beowulf sounded like a barking snake with his draconic. This was proper draconic.
"Al'theen mur'iin'tir, stella'luna Arsh. Supet jacka am." Jellal said as he closed the sarcophagus and the lyrium sealed it. Jellal bathed it in his flame breath to make sure it stayed sealed.
Then Jellal the Sanguine left, never to return.
Saxon Trevelyan sat on the inquisitor's throne. He was surrounded by his court. They'd just settled into sky-hold and he was "passing judgement". He sat in his dragon maw throne as 7 soldiers dragged in a man completely wrapped in a cocoon of chains. He had thick brown hair and deep, sunken blue eyes. He was heavily built and had chiseled features. He was broken. In body and spirit.
Josephine was a bit confused with this one. She triple checked her list. "Um, liege, we are not exactly sure who this is. He speaks in tongues we do not recognize and even our master linguist could not decipher." The inquisitor looked to his companions about the court. Solas in particular appeared troubled.
"What are the charges?" The inquisitor asked.
Josephine turned a page. The room was dead silent. "From what we were able to gather, Venatori discovered an ancient archaeological site that was barely standing somewhere in the mountains near Quarinus. They did some excavating and reported it was older than the imperium. Not as old as the magisters a thousand years ago. Older than Tevinter. They assumed it to be a temple to some old god lost to history.
They found this sarcophagus buried in a collapsed cavern. It was all they found. Well, an ally of ours in quarinus hired mercenaries and a carta clan to wipe out the venatori. While the Venatori were sorting their guard they struck. A magister believed there was some great power inside the sarcophagus and ordered his henchmen to guard him while he opened it."
"He finally got it open and..." Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped a little. "He... was inside. And very much alive. Reports say he was very angry and shocked and killed the magister by sticking his hand into his chest and tearing his heart out. He quickly slayed the venatori with ease, barehanded may I add, and then picked up a sword and armor to cover his more vital parts. He then walked outside and proceeded to slay every venatori, Carta, and mercenary that crossed his path. Out of 700 people there, only 300 total survived and we presume the majority of those casualties were done by him. 200 survivors were detained by the inquisition and were terribly frightened of him. The venatori named him "Dumat Reborn" after discussing it among themselves."
"Thats quite a story... Does he have anything to say for himself?" The inquisitor asked.
A soldier hit the defenseless man in the back of his head. He didn't respond to the hit. He looked up at the inquisitor with strange, hollow, sad eyes.
"Almadan ir zelaph. Forgat nan buun." He said solemly.
Dorian spoke up. "That sounds vaguely tevint. I don't understand it but it sounds very similar." He said, perplexed.
Solas spoke up. "I have heard such a tongue in the fade. I will try to speak to him." Solas said as he approached the chained man.
The man looked at Solas. "Ibn faladrahan ilithane, ellshat."
Solas backed up in surprise. "T-That is ancient elven. I have heard it in the fade before. I have a bit of an understanding of it." He looked at the inquisitor with fear. "No one has spoken this tongue in 7,000 years. and he speaks with a dialect even older."
"Alright." the inquisitor said. "Put him in a room in the upper turret. Solas, can you go speak to him daily? I cannot pass judgement on a man who cannot speak for himself."
Solas nodded and the soldiers bowed while crossing their chests with their arms.
The man bowed his head and closed his eyes as the armed guard escorted him to a location he didn't know.
I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. If people give me positive reviews, I'll keep going. Tell me what you thought, I'd love to hear it! If you want more slap that follow button and if you like it just give that favorite a little love nudge. Goodbye guys! See you next time! (Feel free to PM me for any questions you may have or even idle conversation. I enjoy speaking to new people ^_^)