Author Note
This chapter was guest written by Takao-kun with some minor editing by done my me.
You might remember that a long time ago I attempted to write a story called Adventurer Gothic, that involved many self inserts. Sadly this proved to be beyond my talents as a writer but I did plan for four characters to win the game and become gods.
The character of Alexander the Dragon God is one of the winners.
Warden Gothic
Part 18
Shrine of Andraste's Ashes. Frostback Mountains. Thedas.
The snow crunched beneath my boots as I stepped out of the magical gateway that had brought me to the Dragon Age dimension. I looked down at my red clawed boots and saw that each talon had dug into the snow. I then flexed my hands which were safely encased in my red clawed gauntlets before reaching down to ensure that my dual swords were still in their rightful place. I then examined my red dragon headed pauldrons on my shoulders, and while I could tell that I was wearing it I still reached up to feel that my red dragon head helmet still on my head.
The rest of my body was still protected by my red armour and as I turned I saw that my cape, which shifted through the red, orange, and yellow of a flame, still drifted behind me. I hadn't lost anything in transition, this was good as it was embarrassing for a god to lose part of an outfit in the void between realities.
The mountains winds howled around me as I surveyed my surroundings spotting the Shrine of Andraste's Ashes that had been built in the mountain face, and scattered ruins around it. I also the main target of my interest the corpse of the High Dragon 'Andraste'.
However before I became too focused on 'Andraste' I sent out a mental pulse across the higher realms. I felt it was always best to check if the world or dimension I had entered had Gods, Powers That Be, Ascended Beings, or Divine/Infernal Beings of its own. Better to be warned off as an uninvited neighbour than to be discovered as trespasser in their home world/dimension.
I had been putting off coming here for a few weeks now, hoping that The Warden would slay 'Andraste' to save me the hardship of doing it myself, as it would not be a good start to my rule as a Dragon God by slaying another dragon.
While I'd known that 'Andraste' would be dead when I arrived still I could feel my blood boil from the sight of her corpse, so I took a deep breath and let it out. When I did a puff of flame came leaping out of my mouth as I exhaled, my anger bleeding away with the breath.
I'd had one of my scryers watching this world so I would know when 'Andraste' had been killed by The Warden
The Portal spell while useful for getting you from one world to another wasn't too accurate, unless you had a lot of skills when it came to using portal magic or an anchor for the Portal.
When the pulse came back from the higher realms I felt that nothing had taken notice of it. I had always wondered if the Maker in Dragon Age universe really had abandoned Thedas, and now I knew for a fact that he had. The fact that all the other gods of this world were dead didn't really surprise me. If the Maker had enough power to cast down the old gods of the Tevinter Imperium, why would he stop there?
The spiritual realm of this world felt like a tomb; empty, depressing, and left only as a reminder of what once was. With the Demons and Spirits of the Fade acting as carrion feeder upon a corpses of the gods and the emotions of the inhabitants of this world. There were a few who actually did something but they were not enough.
The spiritual realm was bad enough, but the physical world with the threat of the Darkspawn was like a body with some viral cancer barely held in check. Hopefully no one would ever attempt to remove the Darkspawn from this world for if they were to spread the sickness would grow stronger and that worried even me.
I moved toward 'Andraste', my boots crushing the snow beneath my feet with every step I took. After an inspection I would say that she measured some 50 feet long, most of it taken up by her whip like tail and long neck. She was wounded in several place, but the most damage had been done to to her magnificent wings.
As to what had killed her, judging from the amount of blood spilled it look as if some one had take a long sword or perhaps even a two handed sword had pierced her brain from above. Much like a Dragonborn would in one of the versions of Skyrim.
I mourned the lost of such a dragon, but there would be time later to grieve and to give her a proper send off. For now I needed some information and I intended to get it so while taking a deep breath I grasped her head. The amazing creature was dead and the brain was damaged, but the mind was just a physical thing and memorises could linger in the bones long after the rest of the body was dust. You just had to know how to find them.
[Flash] She was heavy with eggs and had flown for days and nights from two-legged-prey-who-hunt that had killed her mate with false fangs, false claws, and sharp stones.
[Flash] Two-legged-prey had brought her fresh kill prey so she would not eat two-legged-prey that wanted to enter cave under her nest.
[Flash] She had again tried to fly away, but pain came upon her. Forced her to return to nest and cave of two-legged-prey.
More memories passed through my mind, but there was no pattern to them. Just one memory after another, all of different places and moments. Dragons did not measure time the same way that a human or other sapient being would. Making it difficult to keep track of when one memory happened compared to when the next did.
I was beginning to put together what had happened from her scattered memories 'Andraste' had been forced to flee from her previous hunting grounds by dragon hunters that had managed to kill the male she had mated with.
She had then flown some distance before coming upon the remote Frostback Mountains where she could lay her eggs in peace, only she had ended up nesting around the Shrine of Andraste's Ashes.
Perhaps the Spirits around Andraste's Ashes hadn't deemed the Guardian and the Gauntlet sufficient protection for Andraste's Ashes and had decided to bond the dragon to this place, it was hard to tell with how little I actually knew about the magic of this world. Regardless of the how or why something had chained her to this place like a wolf chained up and forced to act as a guard dog.
Then came the mixing of dragon blood into the community gene pool of religious fanatics. Insanity followed.
They had wanted to protect Andraste's Ashes from the rest of the world, they had succeeded beyond even their own expectations until The Warden had come looking for a cure for a local noble.
'Andraste' didn't even have her soul left, likely it had been consumed or somehow taken by Spirits around Andraste's Ashes, there only one thing that I could do now that would bring any peace here. I put my hands together and began to recite in the tongue of the Dragons:
"O ith, svaust xurwka wer darastrix, vur wer nif svant di wer darastrix,
vur majaka ekess ve wer sepa di vi darastrix; batobot tuoric ve ekess wiap,
origato ve vaeri irsa dout kaden karif putole wer flenruid di edar,
origato ve tiichi persvek sia ibahalii, origato ve ti oontanx ista!
origato ve eligne sia tiichi mrith sia jesk vur gix,
origato sia kihletnia kornari shala kilith, origato batobot qe thric drepirn!
origato ve tepoha wer lilbhiahin di shio wer qanescir aurix si kurjh,
origato thric nuwa'jimos jaseve nugriup de sia kivan.
vur, ith, jalla wer rigluin confn vur si qe relgra ekess slathalin,
darastrix xurwkar, shala ve ekess ultrinninan, vur ithquent letoclo batobot daron!
( O Lord, who made the dragon, and the open sky of the dragon,
And gave to me the soul of a dragon; that desires me to fly,
Let me dance within your cloud far beyond the limit of Earth,
Let me praise in my glory, let me not grow vain!
Let me defend my honor with my fang and claw,
Let my enraged heart allow mercy, let that be no blemish!
Let me have the joy of all the shining gold I own,
Let no hatchling leave hungry from my hoard.
And, Lord, should the need come and I be called to fight,
Dragon Maker, allow me to win, and God help that knight!)
While I had been saying a prayer for the High Dragon 'Andraste'. The Warden and company had completed their quest to retrieve a pinch of Andraste's Ashes as I could hear the creaking of the Shrine's doors, followed by the crunching of snow as they began walking away from it.
Then there was a moment when they all stopped having no doubt spotted me and began to whisper to one another.
"Who is the Maker's name is that?" Wynn asked.
"What is he doing with the dragon?" Alistair question.
"He must being mourning her death, they may be misguided in their beliefs, but that dragon has been with them for decades and since we killed it they must be so lost now." Leliane offered as an explanation.
While she was wrong about the source of my sorrow, she had at least felt empathy for me.
"Whoever he is be careful, something isn't right here" said a voice that seem familiar to me then said.
I could not place my finger on where I had heard that voice before as it was distorted someone by the wind and the tiredness of the man who had just spoken.
Their steps began again, but this time it came with the sound of blades being drawn from their sheaths and the creak of wood as a bow was drawn. I could even feel a shift in the arcane as magical energy began to flow towards the mages of the group.
I let them come closer believing that I was unaware of their presence. They were no threat to me, and if it came to a fight I wouldn't even need to draw my swords to defeat them all.
"Looks at him! He must be the leader of the cultists!" Alistair whispered harshly and he received several 'ssssshhhhhh's in response.
Given the style of armour he could be forgiven for thinking that, but I was so much more than a mere dragon loving cultist he would soon discover just how wrong he was.
"She never wanted to stay here" I began to explain once they were only a few feet away.
My words caused them to halt in place. It was barely noticeable as the wind was still making noise, and if not for the snow a mortal may have missed the signs.
"She never wanted to create this cult, but she was desperate and heavy with a clutch of eggs when she found this mountain top. All she wanted was to lay her eggs, wait for them to hatch, and feed her hatchlings until they could hunt on their own" I conveyed while stroking the dragon's head.
There was another subtle shift in their movements as they went from a stance of attack to one that favoured defence. They worked well together and clearly they had been in many fights together.
"The sad thing is that she planned to move on, but when she tried to leave she found herself bound to this place and regardless of which direction she went flying or running she would be forced back. Like a dog reaching the end of its leash" I said softly.
Up until I'd been gentle in my movements and words but that was about to change as I wasn't able to hold my rage any longer.
"HOW NOBLE OF YOUR MAKER TO ENSLAVE A PREGNANT DRAGONESS TO PROTECT THE ASHES OF HIS PROPHETESS!" I roared while spinning around to face The Warden and his company.
My yelling had stunned them for a moment and that allowed me to assess the entire group. There stood before me was more or less The Warden and allies I had expected.
Alistair, the Royal Bastard turned Grey Warden and perhaps the king one day soon.
Leliana, the Orlesian Bard that had worn the mask of a Lay Sister too long. The scent of the Warden was all over her.
Morrigan, Daughter of Flemeth, she planned to become Mother of a God.
The Sten of the Beresaad, who was one of the Kossith in this dimension instead of a "bronze skinned giant".
Wynne, the elderly mage healer, that could double as a Chantry Mother in during one of her lectures.
The Mabari Warhound, that was more proof than anything else that this was Fereldan.
And, finally The Warden, that was a male human, but not a Cousland warrior or an Amell mage.
He was not what I expected.
"Interesting" I whispered.
Leliana recovered first, my attack on the Maker causing a knee jerk reaction that forced her to defend her religion even when common sense urged her to stay silent.
"The Maker would never..." she began#
I was in no mood to hear the ranting of an ignorant child, so I stopped holding back on my Aura of Dragon Fear. The results were instantaneous: Leliana choked on her words as an arrow flew from her bow only to bounce off my armour as she fell into the snow holding herself like a child. Alistair's sword and shield had slipped from numb fingers as he fell on his ass starting at me in horror. Wynne looked like she was having a heart attack. The Mabari Warhound was whimpering. Sten was on one knee his sword held in front of him like a shield, his face made me wish for a camera. Morrigan had fallen into the snow and was trying to raise her staff while attempting to say some counter spell.
The Warden was still the interesting one though, he was still standing although with great effort, and oddly he was glowing.
Was he possessed by some Spirit of Fade that gave him the strength to resist? I asked myself "Does he have training as a Spirit Warrior, or was this something else entirely?"
That was when I reigned in my Aura of Dragon Fear, as I couldn't get answers from them while they were paralysed in fear.
"I will speak. You will listen. Unless I call on you don't talk. If we have anymore 'interruptions' I will subject to what you just felt, again, for a longer period of time until the lesson sinks in" I stated while they slowly got back to their feet.
Everyone of them had the question of 'What did he do to us!?' filling their heads, but they remained silent.
I turned to The Warden and then stepped closer to him. Now that he was closer to me and I was no longer hunched over 'Andrastel, he noticed the obvious difference in our height. There were only three living things taller than me on this world that I knew of, dragons, ogres, and pride demons. In turn I examined the Warden up close and I could have sworn that I had seen this man before now, but I could not remember where.
"All the rest of your party I know of already Warden, and they are unimportant in the grand scheme of things; but you . . . you I do not know and you a man of such interesting power" I stated.
He'd resisted my Aura of Fear very well. I was still fascinated by that.
"Tell me you name" I commanded while staring at him.
It was at the back of my mind that I should know him, but couldn't match his face to a name so I used some of my power to compel him to answer.
"Gothic" he stated while staring back at me.
So that was how I knew him. He was another Gothic, so that would make him Warden Gothic. I had already met and fought Necromancer Gothic, and once I had been allied with Adventurer called Gothic when on my quest to obtain godhood. In fact he was still my friend, at least as much as one god could be friends with another.
Just how many Gothics were the running around in the multiverse anyways? was another question I asked myself.
"So then you intended slay the Archdemon and end the Fifth Blight?" I inquired while already knowing the answer.
"Yes, since no one else seems to want to do it" he muttered,
I knew that it really sucked having the 'save the world' gig thrust on you and this guy wasn't going a good a reward as I had for saving a kingdom.
"Since you asked for my name, may I have yours" he requested in a polite tone voice "And if you don't mind me asking: What you are doing here?"
I had planned for this to be a quick in and out, a mere pick up, but I could not just leave a version of my ally in this kind of danger, at least not with such limited resources.
"Alexander the Dragon God" I stated while deciding on how to best help without breaking the rules of the higher realms.
Warden Gothic just stared at me for moment before looking to the corpse of 'Andraste' understandably he was beginning to look a little worried. I was a dragon god, he was a dragon slayer. He was thinking about some divine wrath heading his way.
"I have been waiting several weeks for you to show up and kill 'Andraste' so I can claim something of great importance here" I then explained,
Upon hearing that he let out a sigh of relief now that he knew I wasn't going to kill him for slaying a dragon.
"It wouldn't be a good start to my reign if I killed the very thing I promised to protect" I said
Being the God of Dragons I could sense that the offspring of 'Andraste' had not been slain, which meant the Warden must have somehow found a way to get to the ashes without slaughtering the cult and the dragon's children. Perhaps by taking a short cut of some sort. Which while clever, it was not that unexpected as my old ally had always been a cunning one.
"Dragons shouldn't live enslaved to another being." I expressed to him while putting my hand on his shoulder.
That caused him to tense, but I ignored his body's reaction as I was an imposing figure.
"Come lets see about rewarding you for the aid you have given me!" I yelled as I turned around with a flourish of my cape and marched back to 'Andraste' "The rest of your party can stop glaring at me and come receive a reward too".
They followed, they didn't rush but the moved slowly which told me that they were still nervous around me. Which was wise of them.
"Oh and you can talk again too I got the information I wanted" I declared while beckoning them to come over.
"You don't really think he is a god do you Gothic? The Maker is the only true god" Liana questioned Gothic while following him.
The idea that there was only one all powerful god was a western philosophy, and it made sense that a culture which closely resembled those of medieval Europe would share that view.
"He is just a very powerful Maleficar, Leliana, this is typical of them, to go on a power trip and declare themselves a god." Alistair sneered while coming towards me.
Hearing that annoyed me, and it was foolish to talk about me in such a way, but it was the witch Morrigan who chided the man rather than me.
"Is that your explanation for everything that you do not understand? That mage, apostate, or maleficar must be responsible for it? Foolish Templar are your eyes shut and your ears filled with wax to all that we have seen in our travels!?" Morrigan scoffed in response.
They still doubted me even after what I had done so far so I decided to make sure that they could never question my claim again. I could use my divine powers simply snap my fingers and make my will reality, but that wouldn't be good enough for them. It was time to go with with shock and horror technique, which was a lot like shock and awe only with body parts.
I grabbed hold of 'Andraste's' scales and prepared to do something I had always wanted to try ever since I had seen it done in the Silent Hill movie by Pyramid Head. I gripped the dragon's scaly hide and with one pull I ripped the entire thing from her body, with the same effort it would take most people to pull a blanket off a bed.
"Alistair I do not think it wise to provoke anyone that can skin a dragon like that" Wynn cautioned.
The Grey Warden then went very quiet and very still. So did everyone else for that matter, it was just that the possible future king looked more like a statue now than a person.
"So who do you want the dragon scale to go to?" I asked Gothic while holding the hide and ignoring the blood that was dripping onto the snow.
He wasn't able to speak so rather Gothic looked at the skinned dragon, then to the hide I was holding, he thought for a moment and then pointed to Leliana to my complete lack of surprise.
With his choice made I turned to Leliana as she stepped forward prepared to accept the hide, she was very brave.
"Thank you I am sure Master Wade in Denerim can make a good set of armour from this." Leliana said softly while staring at the scales.
I grinned at her, which she couldn't see due to my helm but it somehow she knew I was smiling at her. It made her nervous.
"Who said anything about needing a blacksmith?" I commented before throwing hide at her and then wrapping her up in it like a mummy.
The party started towards me, but I spun her around again and suddenly she was wearing Dragonscale leather armor and a Assassin Creed style Dragonshide cloak.
After that I held up a bag for her, when she finally stopped feeling dizzy she took the bag from me.
"Here are the clothes you were wearing." I said while smirking at her, she took the bag and look inside before quickly shutting it, she blushed at me and quickly walked away.
I then turned back to "Andraste', took hold of a wing and ripped it from where it was attached.
"Who is next?" I asked the Warden.
Gothic turned from admiring how very form fitting Leliana's new armour was and he pointed to Morrigan. He was being protective of the women he saw as his girls, that was typical of the other one too.
Morrigan step forward and glared at me, while I stare back at her. I had suspected, but at this range there was no doubt left. I knew what she was, the eyes gave it away, even if it didn't then blood called to blood. She was a Dragon Child, Dragon Blooded, or Dragon Kin. Anyone of a dozen different names for the same thing she was a Human with Dragon Blood flowing through her veins.
I wrapped her in the dragon wings and spun her around as I had Leliana and now she was dressed less as 'slutty barbarian witch' and more as a 'sexy dragon sorceress'.
Once that minor minuscule was done I turned back to 'Andraste' as Leliana and Morrigan compared their outfits.
Next I grabbed the head by the horns and pulled the entire skeleton from what was left of the flesh. That freaked everyone out again so I had to wait for them to emotionally stabilise before I spoke again. Thankfully that didn't take long as this was a group who had been through much and had seen even more.
"Gothic its your turn now, this armour is for you." I announced.
When he step forward I had the skeleton break apart and the pieces fly around him faster and faster until the bones were just a blur separating him from sight. With a flash of light he was encased in a full set of Dragonbone armour that even without any enchantment would protect so very well.
I had made his armour in the similar mould to my own, only in black that was trimmed with silver as I knew that he favoured those colour. Since you could never have too many weapons the guantlets and boots were clawed, there were punch spikes on the back of each hand, a spike on the forearm pointed back for an elbow strike, and the horns on the helmet were designed for head butting.
With this armour had no doubt that one day very soon this armour would make Warden Gothic a source of nightmares for those who feared him.
To ensure this I carved runes into new protective clothing. These occult symbols were of Hardening, Elemental Protection, Regeneration, Magic Resistance, Poison Resistance, and Stability; standard set of armour enchantments for most Fantasy realms, but here they would make him very difficult to kill.
Still there were many bones left over so I pick one up, considered it for a moment before deciding that to do.
"Ah what the hell, when in Fereldan." I whistled to the Mabari, threw the bone for him, and he went dashing off after it barking happily. I smiled as he started chewing on that bone would keep him busy for months.
I then picked up a Femur and looked it over, this would do as the base for a great weapon.
"Gothic what type of weapon do you want?" I asked as he admired the armour I had made for him.
"A two handed sword is what I need right now." He responded while looking at the bone I was holding.
Such a large killing tool would suit his new look so I used my power to shape the bone into a mighty sword. The top third of the blade was double bladed from the point down, then became serrated up to the guard. The guard itself was shaped like a dragon with the blade coming out from the mouth, the wings stretched back to protect the hand holding the sword.
To make the weapon truly unique in this world I carved "ini darastrix ixen qe sventa" into the sword on both sides. Then I examined my work for a moment. Next I took a deep breath and blew a stream a fire onto the blade. Flaming it until both side were white hot.
Now there was only one thing I could do to make this sword worthy of a godly forged weapon: I had to cool it with my blood.
To do this I removed a gauntlet and used this blade I had forged to cut myself as it now had the power to do that. There was a long and loud "Hhhhhhiiiiiiiissssss" as my life fluids flowed down the blade instantly cooling it. The red liquid flowed into the letters I carved, until it reached the guard where it formed into a fist size red orb. Then I held the sword toward Gothic
"It only need one more thing to be complete, your blood to know it's wielder" I claimed while showing him the sword.
I wondered if he understood how much trust I was giving him along with his weapon, it couldn't kill but it could harm me.
"Gothic don't listen to him this is Blood Magic!" Alistair warned, but he was ignored by everyone else.
He stared at the sword while pulling out a small dagger he had strapped to is boot, much like adventurer counterpart had before becoming the god of death. Then removed the gauntlet on his left hand, he made a cut across his palm with the dagger, and made a fist to force the blood to drip out.
The blood fell onto the red orb and sank into it as if the jewel had drank it. Two different types of blood, mortal and immortal, mixed and swirled until the substances arranged themselves. Now there was jewel that resembled a dragon eye's within the hilt of the sword.
Now that it was finally done I handed the sword over to him while he watched the cut he had made on his hand knit itself back together. His new armour was already aiding him.
"That sword now knows you as it's only wielder, if anyone attempts to wield that sword beside you. It will burn them, to what degree, will be determined by their intentions toward you. Those that intend to kill you or steal the sword from you will be incinerated. Those that forget it is yours or try to pick it up will only will get a light burn as a reminder".
While magic was feared here, for good reasons, enchanted weapons were accepted so I knew that soon the two-handed sword would forge a legend of its own.
"I have made this specifically for dealing with the Darkspawn, but anyone who is your enemy will be burned or set on fire with each cut and slash. Stab the sword into them and the sword will incinerate them from the inside to outside so long as the sword remains buried in them." I commented while turning to what is left of 'Andraste'.
A small tooth became a dagger for Gothic's lover, it would serve her well even with just the few enchantments I'd given it. A larger tooth became a bow that would be as lethal as the woman who used it. The largest fangs became two staffs that seemed to me made of the finest ivory.
Now there was only one thing left the High Dragon could give me. Digging into her fleshly remains until I found her heart and pulled it out. As soon as it was in my hands the heart began to beat again.
I held the beating heart in my left hand while pulling out a large vase and setting it in the snow. I gestured with my right hand and all the fleshy remains liquefied into blood, with an arc of my finger the blood flew into the urn filling it up. I dropped the heart into the urn and sealed it before vanishing it for later use.
"There now with that taken care. I can move on to my main reason for coming here." I stated while walking toward the Wyrmling Lair.