I decided to try my hand at writing fanfiction. And since I have been obsessed with Dragon's Dogma for a while now, I thought, "Why not?" There are some great DD stories that I've read and have inspired me to give it a shot myself. Please leave a comment and I am open to critiques, suggestions, and any ideas or thoughts for future chapters. Thanks.
Disclaimer: All rights to Dragon's Dogma goes to the creators. I'm just a fan.
Ser Maximilian Einzenstern decided that he was gaining more from the march than he initially expected, especially in the company of the Arisen and her pawn. It was nearly midday, and they were headed to the Greatwall Encampment. It was quite the distance from Gran Soren, so he was quite pleased that the Arisen was willing to be his escort. Surely the duke's chamberlain had jobs of more import than a simple practice march for her, and yet there she was. Normally, he would decline her company, believing that he could handle himself should he run into trouble, but Maximilian was a modest man, and knew that it would ill serve him to be harmed.
"Are you alright, Ser Max?" the Arisen asked.
Maximilian was amused by her informality. No one called him "Ser Max" but he didn't feel inclined to correct her. Everyone in court knew where the Arisen hailed from, and that she was the least likely to adhere to the customs and courtesies of class and rank. Then again, she had included the title "ser," so perhaps she didn't realize that she was shortening his name. Furthermore, few truly understood what an "Arisen" was except that they were "Ones to be respected and held the Pawn Legion's allegiance."
"Ser Maximilian?"
Ah, there it was. "I am well, Ser." he said. "Just deep in my thoughts."
"I envy you," she said. "I haven't the luxury of losing myself to my musings with this crone pestering me."
The Arisen's pawn seemed unfazed. "I pray you remain alert, Master, otherwise risk unnecessary injury."
"Leave me be, Zillah. I managed to survive Gransys for twenty years without you."
"Not Gransys, Master, just Cassardis."
The Arisen opened her mouth, clearly offended. Maximilian couldn't stifle the laugh in his throat, and coughed when his companions looked at him.
"I apologize, Ser," he said. "You two certainly make an interesting team." He looked at the pawn. "And you, Ser, seem more…lively, than last we met."
The pawn expression was deadpan. "How so?"
"That," said the Arisen. "Pretending like you are not irritated with me."
"I am not, irritated."
Maximilian grinned, and listened to the Arisen and her pawn bicker. Their march had been quiet for some time now, uneventful. The knight had hoped he could wet his blade on goblin blood. It had been a while since he found himself in a skirmish.
"Ser Max."
He turned to look back at the two. They stared intently at something off road, and the pawn had unsheathed her twin daggers from her belt. Maximilian instinctively fingered the hilt of his sword and followed their gaze. He had to peer pass the trees off the beaten path, but he instantly recognized the large, grey hulk in the distance.
"Has it noticed us, Zillah?"
The pawn replied: "No, Master, but I fear that it may company with goblins."
Before Maximilian could remind the two that it was normal for goblins and cyclops to be in close proximity, the Arisen asked, "And?"
"They head toward a merchant caravan."
How in blazes did the pawn see any of that, Maximilian thought. All he could see were trees and the furthering cyclops. From there, he could make out the faint banter of the goblins, but he saw no caravan.
"Ser," the Arisen said, catching the knight's attention, "I know our priority is to escort you safely to the encampment, but…"
"I could not call myself a knight if I were to let such travesty unopposed." Maximilian interrupted. "Are you confident in your pawn's deduction?"
"Zillah is never wrong." she said, looking at her pawn, who returned eye contact.
"Then, pray, let us make haste." he said.
The three sprinted off the road into the wilderness. Maximilian fell behind the Arisen and the pawn, and the guttural speech of the monsters grew louder.
The Arisen charged at a goblin straggler who noticed the mystic knight too late. She swung her sword downward at the creature's leg and was well past it before it fell to the ground. The pawn leapt over it without a glance.
So I am to clean up after them, Maximilian thought, driving his sword into the goblin's torso. He looked up to see an armored hobgoblin swing its crooked blade down on the Arisen. She lifted her shield and the sword clanked uselessly off the metal. The mystic knight propped forward, hard, and tossed the creature off balance before plunging her steel into his abdomen.
Another goblin raced toward her and, before Maximilian could shout out warning, there was a brief "whir." The goblin convulsed as an arrow struck the back of its skull and it died with a final moan. Before the Arisen began running again, another goblin had met a similar fate. She didn't turn to see the carnage her pawn left behind. Maximilian assumed she was either unaware or simply confident in her allies.
The knight felled another of the monster's brethren and chased after his companions. He heard the growl of an ox and, just as the pawn had claimed, saw a caravan that was under attack. He recognized the knight escorts surrounding the wagons, and immediately cursed the fool who allowed his charges to be beset off the road.
The cyclops was already upon them and smashed one of the carts with a massive wooden club. The Arisen neared it, slamming her shield against the smaller enemies in her path, but otherwise ignoring them completely. The pawn shot down two and dispatched a handful of others with her daggers. Maximilian felled one of the creatures she had wounded and sped toward the survivors.
The Arisen came to a halt behind the cyclops. She held her sword down before her and titled her head down. Maximilian was about to shout at her before he realized that she was casting. A floating orb of white energy formed before her. She stood back and hacked at the light. Three spheres, of what Maximilian could only assume to be magick, shot at the back of the cyclops head. The beast roared angrily and turned its massive body from the caravan. The monster's single eye locked on the Arisen. There was another whir, and an arrow hit the target. The cyclops dropped its weapon and clawed at its bleeding eye, roaring anguish.
"Are these your fellows?" the Arisen asked when Maximilian reached her side. She was panting, and her bangs stuck to her forehead from sweat, but her eyes were wide with what he could only pin as delight.
"Yes, and I've half the mind to skin the fool who is responsible." Maximilian said.
"Zillah and I will finish this if you'd care to get these men to the encampment."
"Aye, I am confident that you can handle this." he said. "Don't die, Arisen. I owe you and your fellow a drink."
The Arisen flashed him a smile before turning her back to the cyclops and whistled. She crouched, setting her feet shoulder length apart and bending her knees. She put her hands before her, interlocking her fingers. Before Maximilian knew what was happening, the pawn was suddenly there, right foot in the Arisen's makeshift platform and was sprung into the air. She flipped forward before she fell straight down onto the cyclops's head, a silver dagger in each hand pointed downward.
Two years ago.
Her name was Darien. She was brown-skinned, a slight shade darker than her fellows of Cassardis, with sand-scratched knees and elbows from the hard labor she was accustomed to around the village. She was short and stocky, a full head shorter than her childhood friends. Her shoulders were wide, and her arms toned and marked by faded scars. Her dark hair was short and curly, with a few unruly bangs brushed away from her dark eyes. It wasn't strange for newcomers to mistake Darien for a man and, throughout the years, she had come to care less and less. There was never a lack of errands or duties that required a hardy touch. What she lacked in grace she made up for in strength.
That morning had begun like every other. Quiet and warm. The church bells to the cathedral always rang before sunrise, and Darien would roll to her side and allow herself to wake slowly, her senses gradually emerging from an already forgotten dream.
She threw her legs over her bed and stood, stretching while she moved toward a pile of neatly folded clothes she had laid out the night before. She lived alone, not isolated, per say, for Cassardis was a small village where everyone knew everyone. The familiar sounds of her fellows outside reached her through the open window. She quickly finished her morning ritual and stepped out of her home.
Darien wore the same, tan clothes of the Cassardis fisher; a loose tunic tied together in the front, and breeches that stopped right above her knees. Darien turned the corner pass a stone hut right when the sun peeked above the sea line. She lifted her arm against the light and smiled. As much as she complained how dull and uneventful Cassardis was, she was very fond of its peace and familiarity. The people were kind, and life there was adequate. And, as she had heard plenty of times, "You won't find a better lobster dinner in all the land."
A child bumped into Darien's right hip and bounced off, laughing while his sister raced to catch him. The fisher tousled the girl's head when she ran by. She could hear the speech from one of the visiting soldier's near the gate; something about the coming of the dragon. Nonsense.
Darien looked up and caught sight of Quina. Unlike the boyish fisher, she thought that her childhood friend had grown to be quite beautiful. She had long, curly brown hair, and the sun-touched skin of a fellow villager. Quina wore a white dress with a blue sash and, like most of her peers, was taller than Darien, with smooth skin and a slender frame.
Darien waved to catch her attention. Quina's eyes landed on her and she smiled.
There was a sudden gust of wind. Darien blinked as the rush of sand and salt brushed her face and someone – the little girl, perhaps – had screamed suddenly. The village grew silent, save for nervous whispering. Something was wrong. Darien couldn't place it, but it was like something in the air had been altered.
Quina ran to her and placed her hand on the other's shoulder while they stared out into the sea. There seemed to be a cloud in the very far distance. Perchance a storm was nearing.
A villager ran toward them, tripping over himself. "T-tis a dragon!" he shouted.
The crowd instantly reacted with mummers and shock. Darien looked back at Quina. "Stay here." she said.
The blurred darkness in the distance closed in on the beach, form outlining into what seemed to be an enormous bat. It moved faster than anything Darien had seen before. In moments, the mighty beast flew over the village in a roaring wind. Ocean water was flung into Darien's eyes which were locked on the massive creature. For a brief moment, the sun itself was blocked by a red tide of scales and wings. Darien thought that it might completely overpass them until she watched it make an impossibly sharp turn back towards the town. One of the canopy-like wings smashed into the side of the building on the hill tops, sending debris crashing down.
The people panicked, screaming and running nowhere in particular. Darien watched the beast hover above the shoreline, wings turning the winds to roar and trees to moan. It landed on the sands, shaking the earth. Behind her, she heard someone crying and villagers shouting.
The world deafened to Darien. Her once familiar surroundings seemed to dilate. It felt like she was underwater and the sounds around here were muffled and distorted.
"Darien!" Quina shouted.
Darien didn't move until she heard the distinct sound of metal falling to the hard earth. She spun around and saw a soldier fleeing toward the gates. Darien ran to Quina, pushing her towards the village's exit and, before her friend could utter protest, raced toward the beach, sword in hand.
Before she could get there, the dragon had lowered its head. Darien saw a handful of villagers near its giant maw. One man had his back to the sand, and tried desperately to move away while another stood still, hands before him in the most meager of protection. The others were trying to flee when a massive eruption of flame gushed from the beast's jaws and consumed them in fire.
Even from a safe distance, Darien gasped from the intense heat. Once the flames subsided, she sprinted forward. The beast must not have noticed her, or didn't care, for it moved its snakelike head towards a fleeing group further down the beach. Darien ducked underneath the front left raised claw and swung at the back foot. The sword bounced off the scales harmlessly.
She cursed, and felt another wave of heat and a scream's abrupt end as the dragon blew another inferno. Helplessness reached her eyes and she gritted her teeth. She spun and sprinted toward the beast's head. She would die before it blew fire again. Darien spun her sword against the front claw of the beast, not expecting any damage from her effort. But the creature did turn it's snout toward her.
Darien dug her heel into the sand and turned in time to see a wall of red rush at her. Both hands on sword, she lunged forward. She met with a gruesome thud and crack and thundering darkness, and her body was thrown back. Darien's mind came second of the pain of everything. Her back was against the sand and shallows, and she was instantly aware that something was broken. She was broken.
The earth shook thrice. She looked up into the face of the beast and thought it mad that it was speaking. Speaking. The voice was deep and grating. Her head spun and she tried desperately to sit up, to no avail. Darien watched a lance-like claw bear down on her and hover momentarily above her chest before it came down. Every muscle, sinew, and drop of blood screamed agony through her. She felt herself rise from the sand and she could just imagine herself impaled on the claw of the beast before she dropped back down.
Her vision blurred and darkened, but she watched her still beating heart, a floating speck in the blue sky, raised to the dragon's jaws. She raised her hand. Darien was conscious long enough to see the beast close its jaws on her heart, and look down at her once more before her vision faded.