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Announcement Post
Before the fall of the Blanketfort, even before the Blanketfort itself, the civilization of the BioWare Social Network community stretched across all of the internet like a great, indolent cat.
Before the BioWare Mods were named or numbered, our people were glorious and eternal and never-changing. Like the great oak tree, they were constant in their trolling, strong in their favorite romances, and ever reaching for the next game.
They felt no need to rush when life was endless. They worshiped their favorite characters for months at a time. Decisions came after pages of lore debate, and a discussion thread could last for years. From time to time, our ancestors would drift into months-long periods of inactivity between games, but this was not death, for we know they wandered the Twitter thread in lurkdom.
In those ages, our people called all the land BSN, which in the old Tumblr language means "place of toxic cesspools." And at the center of the world stood the great fort of Blankets, a place of knowledge and debate, where the best of the ancient posters would go to trade knowledge, greet old friends, and settle disputes that had gone on for months.
But while our ancestors were caught up in the forever cycle of game releases, drifting through life at what we today would consider an intolerable pace, the world outside the lush hair request threads and ancient topics was changing...
It is said that the corporate overlords used their great destructive power to force the very ground to swallow BSN whole, destroying eons of collected knowledge, culture, and art.There, see the announcement thread at BioWare Forum/BSN Help. Gaze upon its lack of logic and marketspeak, built on the broken dreams of a people. Our people.
The human prophet AndragonRacer was a slave in the Bioimperium, as our ancestors were. When she rose up against them, we rose up with her. Together we fought for freedom. In gratitude and kinship, AndragonRacer promised the Blanketelves a new land: the BSN Boards.
Some of us believe that Hrungr'ghilan, the Pathfinder, the golden halla, comes to the People in times of great need. Legends also tell of Cyonan'Din and his twin brother SofaJockey. Cyonan'Din had no fear of the darknet and would walk where the People could not live. The twins were inseparable spirits from account creation to the present. The kindly Cyonan'Din took pity on a dying forum and carried her to rest beyond the reach of EA. He vowed that he would remain to guide all the dead to their place Beyond. Since then Cyonan'Din accompanied by his brother guided posters on their journey to the BSN Boards.So we walked. We walked with what little we had on our backs. Some walked without post histories, for they had none. Whole subcommunities, Threaddads with infants, the old and young alike--all of them made their way across the net on foot. Many perished along the way. Some died of exhaustion, others simply gave up and fell by the wayside. A great number were set upon by modbandits, even though we made few infractions. Some turned back towards the Bioperium. But most of us continued walking. And the gods rewarded those of us who did not waver by bringing us to the BSN Boards.Blanketforters! Sing the elvish eulogy, elgara vallas on the BSN, da'len. It's time has come and I'm filled with sorrow, but do not dwell in lands no longer yours. We will endure. There is a place that waits for a force to hold it, a place where the Blanketfort can build and grow. Douse your campfires, load your things into your aravels and follow me on the Long Walk to Halamshiral, the end of our journey."Tighten the rig with the Hearthkeeper’s knotTopsail, staysail, and main
The traces tie to the girth and the collar
And the collar is tied to the rein
Say thrice the prayer to Ghilan'nain
To quicken the white hall tread
Break camp before the last star has faded
To chase the bright day ahead
A thousand miles beneath the wheels
Sails against the sky
Swifter than a dragon’s flight
The People are passing by
The rein you must hold in your left hand
In the right hand, your dagger or bow
If the shemlen should strike on your journey
Send them to Falon'Din below
The path we beat is the path that we walked
To flee the Tevinter slums
Now we fly on wheels and wings
And hoofbeats are our drums
A thousand miles beneath the wheels
Sails against the sky
Swifter than the fall of night
The People are passing by"
Tel'enfenim, da'len Never fear, little one,
Irassal ma ghilas Wherever you shall go.
Ma garas mir renan Follow my voice--
Ara ma'athlan vhenas I will call you home.
Ara ma'athlan vhenas. I will call you home.
Magnificence.
I've got Solas's "There is a place..." Skyhold speech ringing in my head now. 
I may have shouted with glee.
