39010 réponses à ce sujet

[java_jive_girl]

Staring up at the night sky? :innocent:

Ack!  Top!  I don't think I have a worthy enough pic, but let me sort through the mess that is my screenshots folder...



King Alistair giving the rousing speach before the big battle.

Modifié par java_jive_girl, 21 octobre 2011 - 06:01 .

[Maria13]

Leniph... Priceless.

[RagingCyclone]

Lenimph wrote...

RagingCyclone wrote...

dropping this off because you just have to wonder...what's he doing?

this    jk...jk... 

Excellent!

[ShimmeringDjinn]

Couple more pic's for your viewing pleasure:P




The wolf is my Amell x

Modifié par ShimmeringDjinn, 21 octobre 2011 - 07:19 .

[tklivory]

Sooooo, any more last minute prompt fills?  Anyone, anyone?



Ah, well.





So anyway: anyone want to volunteer to provide the prompt tomorrow?  Anyone, anyone? 

[tklivory]

Oh, hey, my own post reminds me:

@Rage, Meri, whoever: does anyone update the Alistair Prompt group anymore? Ya know, with the new prompts & fills, etc?

[tklivory]

*tap tap tap* is this thing on?



Just posting a pic on a quiet thread...  That's all...



And lo, the Chantry did cast out the evil that was the corrupted texture of Alistair's armor.  And there was much rejoicing.

[java_jive_girl]

lol! tklivory, your Warden's expression is priceless! It's as if she's saying, "Whoa! What the **** is wrong with you (and your armor)?"

Prompt, anyone? I don't have the code for that fancy prompt banner, (AND I have to leave for work in about five minutes) or I might try my hand at it.

[tklivory]

java_jive_girl wrote...

lol! tklivory, your Warden's expression is priceless! It's as if she's saying, "Whoa! What the **** is wrong with you (and your armor)?"

Prompt, anyone? I don't have the code for that fancy prompt banner, (AND I have to leave for work in about five minutes) or I might try my hand at it.

For the prompt banner, just use the img tags with this url: http://www.fivemaple...y_challenge.PNG

[ img ] http://www.fivemaple...y_challenge.PNG [ /img ]

without any spaces.

And if you wish to do the prompt, please feel free!  I'd love to have a new one, and it is Saturday, after all.


EDIT: also my apologies if you meant you wished to contribute with a prompt fill.

Aaaand, i'm giving y'all a couple more hours (looking at everyone else) before I provide *sigh* another prompt...



I can haz new prompt from someone else, pleez?

Modifié par tklivory, 22 octobre 2011 - 10:03 .

[RagingCyclone]

*checking in from the game* tklivory, if you mean the group thread no, I don't think anyone has been. And I see no prompt yet. When I get home from the game (it's the fourth quarter) I'll put a prompt up if I don't see one by then.

[theskymoves]

Prompt: On the road

Presumptuously yours,
tsm

[RagingCyclone]

hehe, get back from the game (which sucked that my team lost) I see a prompt. YAY!! Thanks, tsm!

I actually wrote one with this title a couple months ago...it's less about Alistair (Dan does pick on him) and more about Dan getting in trouble with Leliana...if that's ok with the rest of you.

[tklivory]

Yay! Thanks, tsm!

*pokes head with paw* Think, think...

@Rage - Looking forward to it!

[RagingCyclone]

Along the Road…

The treaties were all filled, and the travelers were making their way back to Redcliffe to see Arl Eamon. Dan’s arm was still in a sling, and the pain was mostly gone. It had been a month since he was injured and almost lost both life and limb. However, the Dalish healers had done their best to save both, and with the help of the elven healer mage Anerin he was making a full recovery. He knew the arm would be stiff and sore for a while, but surviving the itching that came with the healing was almost unbearable. Leliana was very strict with him to stop scratching whenever she caught him, and had enlisted the help of the others to keep an eye on the younger Cousland. Zevran had been the last one to catch him, but it was Leliana who always gave Dan grief and punishment. His penalty this last time was sleeping in his own tent until they reached Redcliffe. As he walked along the road with his companions he could not decide which was worse, not sleeping with Leliana or the itching from his arm. Even his attempt to say that by himself in a tent no one would catch him scratching fell on deaf ears.
He skulked along the trail in the middle of the group watching Leliana ahead of him. She would peek back at him from time to time and smile, but she was also talking to Morrigan. The two women had been getting along better since their time in Redcliffe when they used the Ashes to heal Eamon with the exception the time cool feelings existed between the witch and Alistair. Dan couldn’t hear what the women were talking about, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. But every once in a while one or the other would let out a giggle, and then look back to the rest of them and giggle again. Alistair was bringing up the rear of the group so he was not sure which warden they were talking and giggling about.
It was around midday when the group stopped for some rest. They found a nice secluded place just off the road near a small lake. While the rest of his companions were setting up places to rest, Dan decided to take a walk along the shoreline. He had not had a chance in the past several months to just walk and take things in. He used to walk in the woods all time growing up in Highever and just enjoy the sights and sounds of nature around him. He found peace and solace in those walks, and he wanted to get a little of that while he had the chance. Crossing fallen trees and small brooks were challenging with one arm, but he managed to make his way without too much fuss.
At one of the small brooks he came across a white flower. He didn’t know the variety, but the appearance was familiar. He bent down to get a closer look. Thoughts drifted in his mind trying to remember why this flower was familiar to him. He had never seen one before, and when he heard his friends’ voices in the distance it finally dawned on him…it was Andraste’s Grace. Leliana had told him of this kind of flower…a favorite of her mother’s. Reaching down with his good arm, he gently pulled the flower from the ground. As he stood back up he looked for something to hold the flower in until he got back to the resting area. He had not brought along any of his bags or pouches. Looking down at his sling he placed the flower inside along his forearm. It was as safe as he could make it. He made his way back to the others slowly and carefully doing his best to not hurt the flower. He planned to give it to Leliana since this variety of flower was special to her.
Near the makeshift camp he stopped when he spied a patch of familiar red moving through the bushes ahead of him. She emerged not five feet in front of him. Startled, she stepped back, and then placed her hands on her hips.
“There you are,” she said looking at him. “I was beginning to wonder where you took off to.”
“I just wanted to take a walk and see the lakeshore.”
“You know, you should not be doing things like that. Not with your arm the way it is.”
“I’m fine,” he replied. “I didn’t strain myself, and there’s nothing out here that can hurt me anyway.”
“That’s not what I meant. You are taking chances you don’t need to.”
“I was taking a walk.”
“And with only one good arm? What if you had fallen over or ran into a bear or…”
“Leliana, I’m ok. There’s nothing out here to hurt me…see?” He motioned with good arm around them. Her gaze did not waver from his face.
“You can’t know that for sure.” She stepped up close to him. “Nobody can. I just don’t want you doing these kinds of things until your arm is healed.” She lowered her head and placed her hands on his chest. He reached down with his good hand and gently raised her chin to look into her eyes. “Promise me,” she said. “No more silly chances. No more walking off alone until you’re healed.”
“What’s wrong, honey?” he asked.
“I almost lost you once…I can’t do that again…” She leaned in and placed her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Promise me.”
He hugged her with his good arm. “I’m sorry I scared you. It was not my intention…I just wanted to walk like I did back in Highever. I never dreamed I would be scaring you like this.”
“I care for you more than I can say. I remember what my life was like before I met you, and I don’t want to have a life moving forward without you.”
“I feel the same. I want you in my life for as long as I can.”
“Then promise me you won’t take chances that could take you away from me.”
“I’ll do more than that,” he replied laying his cheek along the top of her head. “When this is all over, I’ll marry you.”
“Really?”
“If you’ll have me, yes.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she said squeezing him harder.
“Look in my sling.”
She looked down at the flower that was peeking through the edge. “A flower?” she asked.
“Do you recognize it?”
“It’s Andraste’s Grace…just like my mother used to have,” she gasped.
“When I saw it I thought of you.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s a rare and beautiful thing, just like you.”
She looked up at him and kissed him. They shared their embrace for a few moments in solitude. They eventually made their way back to the campsite holding each other along the way. When they emerged from the woods Alistair greeted them with a sheepish smile and twinkle in his eye.
“Just what have you two been up to?”
“Nothing,” replied Dan.
“Riiiight. Two lovebirds alone in the woods.”
“We did nothing like you are thinking, Alistair,” Leliana said. “Just enjoying a nice walk in the woods.”
“Sure.”
“You know, Alistair,” Dan said. “You could take Morrigan out for a walk. It’s nice, peaceful, and quiet.”
“Dan…you know…”
“It’ll be fun…just the two of you…in nature…”
Alistair glared at him, pointed him finger, and then turned to walk away. “Not funny,” he said as he walked away from the couple.
“I thought it was funny,” Dan said to Leliana. They walked to where the meal was being prepared by Morrigan. Leliana let go of Dan and retrieved the flower from his sling. She carried it to Bodahn’s wagon and found a safe vase to place it in. She then walked back to Dan.
“Your job the remainder of this trip is to keep that flower safe,” she said to her lover.
“You mean…ride in the cart?” he asked. She nodded yes and smiled slyly. “But…what we said earlier…I promised…”
“You promised to marry me when this Blight was over…and you will,” she leaned in to kiss him. “But you didn’t promise to stay out of trouble, so I am making sure you won’t.”
“Is this how it will be when we get married?”
“Umm hmm,” she answered. “And you still are sleeping in your own tent until Redcliffe.”
“But…but…”
“No ‘buts’ and no arguments. I am a woman and reserve to the right to be inconsistent.”
She turned and walked towards her packs she had left near a tree. When he started to protest again she simply turned, smiled, and waved her finger. He watched her and ran his hand along his bald head and down the back of his neck. Could be worse, he thought. He could be alone, and then he began scratching his arm.

[tklivory]

@Rage - Awwwww, I love seeing a woman skillfully manipulate her ma---  Er, I mean, deliver tender ministrations to a loved one.  Seriously, very cute story.  I love your Dan and Leliana as a couple, and it was fun to see a tender moment in there. 

[tklivory]

All I will say about this fill is that I had way too much fun writing it.   'Tis a bit long, but I hope you enjoy it.

~^~

Second Chances

Alistair blinked, trying to force his vision to focus.  So tired… he thought blearily, feeling himself succumb to the inevitable drain of adrenaline shock.  When his eyes finally cleared, he realized that all of the enemies had been dispatched at last.  Thank the Maker, he sent in a silent prayer.  We survived another ambush.  He started to seat his sword and shield on his back and winced as the pain from a rather deep cut in the bicep of his shield arm suddenly flared up.  Right, that bastard Alpha that got past my guard.  A feral smile touched his lips.  Heh, takes a bastard to kill one.

A hand touched his elbow.  Turning, he met the eyes of his fellow Grey Warden.  “Alistair?  Are you all right?”  Her jade eyes shimmered in the light of the setting sun as she examined his face for any evidence of injury.

“Just the usual collection of ignominious insults from our dear enemies,” he joked, turning slightly so she wouldn’t see his arm.  He didn’t want to worry her any more than necessary, not here, not now, not after—  “Nothing to concern yourself with, dear lady.”

Her brows furrowed.  “Damn, you really are hurt.”  Overriding his protestations, she started a rather direct examination of his person and quickly found the gash on his upper arm.  “By Andraste’s sore throat,” she snapped at him as she pulled out one of their precious healing potions from the stores gifted to them by Lady Isolde.  “That wound is no laughing matter!”  Ripping the top of the bottle off with her teeth, she practically forced the red liquid down his throat before he managed to take it from her and drink it voluntarily.  She watched him grimly as if making sure he finished the entire drink before pulling out the small dagger she kept in a small sheath at the small of her back.

Alistair tried to ward her off.  “Whoa, Kal!  Let’s not waste—“

Her glare scorched him into silence before turning to his arm, leaving Alistair wondering in a slightly detached fashion how that same glare could fail to rip right through him.  Ruthlessly, the petite elf removed his armor without regard to the pain caused by the motion, then cut the sleeve of his shirt off at the shoulder before slicing it lengthwise to remove it entirely.  With a critical eye she examined the wound.  “That’s better,” she said grudgingly.  “At least the supplies given to us by that shemlen witch work well.”  Returning the knife to its sheath, she reached into her pack and took out a small poultice and two clean cloths.  “Hold still,” she commanded.

He watched, bemused, as she wet one cloth to clean his wound, then spread the poultice over the other cloth and meticulously tied it to his much-maligned arm.  As always when she was concentrating on a delicate matter, the pink tip of her tongue emerged from between her lips in a surprisingly enticing fashion.  And, as always, Alistair found himself completely absorbed with remembering the feel of that tongue when she would—

His daydream was rudely interrupted when she tightened the makeshift bandage with an abrupt jerk.  “Ow!” he said, caught by surprise.

Her face softened slightly.  “Sorry,” she murmured.  “It’s just…”  She glanced away, eyes overlooking the battlefield around them.  Suddenly the harshness returned to her expression as she looked at him.  “No other life-threatening injuries you’re trying to hide from me?”

“No, ma’am, I promise!” he assured her quickly.  She looked at him suspiciously for a few more moments before moving away.  Fracas curiously sniffed at Alistair’s knees before issuing a short bark of admonition and trotted after his mistress.  Groaning, he bent down and retrieved his armor and the shredded remnants of his sleeve.  Maker, I wish…  Sighing, he turned to follow her as she gathered the others around her and began issuing orders to return to camp.

-----------------------

Back in camp, after he had removed the remainder of his armor, Wynne clucked over his wounded arm.  “There’s nothing more I can do, young Alistair,” she told him.  “You’ll need to rest a few days before using that arm again.”  Seeing the weariness in his eyes, she chuckled and patted his arm.  “Don’t worry, you’re not the only one who needs a few days of rest.  Kalindra—“

“What?” Alistair interrupted her.  “What happened to Kal?”

Wynne blinked.  “You were there, were you not?  I would have thought you noticed—“

Alistair cut her off with a curt hand gesture.  "Just tell me."

Grimacing, the woman said, "A genlock snuck up behind her and got a knife in her back."  Turning away from Alistair's intense gaze, the old mage continued, "I was able to heal most of the damage, but the blade got close enough to her spine that I told her we should stay put for a few days to avoid unnecessary secondary damage."

"You healed--" Alistair stopped.  "Why didn't she use one of the potions before coming back to camp?"

The mage shrugged, her attention on the party's healing supplies.  She held a bottle of lyrium potion up to gauge its contents.  "She just said that they had been needed for more important matters."  Turning back to him, she started to ask, "Would you say this bottle is half-full or--?"

But he was already gone, marching to the small stream that abutted their camp.  She always sought water after fighting.  Always.

-----------------------

He pushed aside the final tree branches that separated him from the creek, looking around for his fearless leader.  He saw her sitting next to the stream with her feet in the water, her back to him.  Dressed as always in a loose linen shirt and trews, she seemed oblivious to his presence.  Fracas lay next to her, head cocked and ears twitching with anxiety, his little stump of a tail waggling intermittently.  As Alistair approached them, the Mabari whined uncertainly at his mistress before turning to growl at the human Warden.

As if startled out of a sound sleep, Kalindra's head snapped up and she turned to regard him with a cold gaze.  "Oh, it's you."  Taking in his glowering expression, she sighed and looked away.  "Come to yell at me again, have you?  What is it this time?  Upset I killed a Hurlock?"  The growl from the Mabari increased in volume.  "Did I somehow disgrace the Wardens again?  Tell me, oh Master Warden!" she hissed.  "Was one of those I felled in fact not a Genlock, but a child Darkspawn?  Or a close friend to Eamon?  Will you have to defend your precious honor to him even more assiduously when he awakens?"  The Mabari issued a loud bark and moved to stand between the two Wardens, hackles raised.

Shocked by her onslaught, Alistair halted in his tracks.  "What?  No, I--"  He started to move forward again, only to be stopped by a menacing growl from Fracas.  "Dammit, Kal, Wynne said you were hurt!  I came to see how you--"  Hearing the anger in his voice, he forced himself to stop.  Snapping his mouth shut and taking a deep breath, he inhaled slowly until a semblance of calm came to him.  Continuing in a more conciliatory tone of voice, he said, "Please, Kal, I just want to make sure you're all right."  He looked away from her burning viridian gaze.  "I-I'm sorry for disturbing you."

"Oh, suddenly I matter to you?" she demanded acrimoniously.  "I feel honored."

Suddenly something snapped in Alistair.  For weeks since their argument about Conner, it had been like this: angry words, heated glances, stiffened shoulders, biting insults.  The trip to Denerim had been filled with this rancor, and it seemed that it would continue during their journey to Haven.  No more!

Heedless of the warhound in his path, he surged forward and grasped her upper arms in an unbreakable hold.  Meeting her startled eyes with his own, he said, "Enough, Kal.  Enough!"  The pain, worry, and fear rose in him, forming a heat that spread throughout his body.  "You keep telling me that I'm a selfish bastard, and guess what?  I am a selfish bastard.  When it comes to you, I will never be anything but a selfish bastard." He suddenly pulled her close, trying to be careful of her back but at the same time unwilling to have her further away from him than the space of two breaths.

"By the Maker," he whispered intently into her delicately pointed ear, "do you have any idea of what it would do to me to lose you?  Do you understand how much I need to know, each and every morning, that the sun rises to shine on the glory that is your hair?  That every night, the moon worships the beauty that is your face?  That the very wind caresses the wonder that is your skin?"  He burrowed his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent of lavender that always seemed to linger in her presence.  "Maker, Kal, I can't live with this... this distance."

She shuddered slightly in his arms.  Abruptly concerned that he had hurt her, he forced himself to let her go and slowly withdraw.  "I--I'm sorry."  He grinned ruefully.  "I did it again, didn't I?  I hurt you."  He started to get to his feet.  "I'll leave you alone."

Abruptly her hands lashed out and pushed him -- hard.  Unprepared for the assault, he fell flat on his back.  Before he realized what she meant to do, she had straddled him, one hand pressed against his unwounded shoulder, the other holding her small knife against the pulse in his throat.  Panting heavily, she stared at him, her jade eyes glowing with an eldritch light in the gathering gloom.  They remained in that position for a few moments, neither able to speak the words that had remained unspoken for so long.

Without relaxing her grip, Kal said hoarsely, "You are a selfish bastard, aren't you?"  Abruptly, without a change of
expression or moving the dagger, she leaned down and claimed his lips in a searing kiss.  Using her lips and teeth, she explored his mouth with bites that bordered the line between pain and pleasure.  Stunned, Alistair tried to respond in kind but froze when the knife pricked at his throat.  Breaking the kiss, Kal put her face over his own.  "Let me show you what a selfish witch I can be, hmmm?"  A quick jerk of her wrist, and suddenly his shirt was sliced open, exposing his body to her suddenly hungry gaze.  Again he tried to reciprocate, and again the knife flashed to his neck.  "My knife, Alistair.  My rules."

The knife remained rock steady at his throat as her head moved down his body, her mouth leaving a trail of bright red marks as her teeth claimed him for her own.  His breath started coming in short pants as she moved lower until finally she paused at the top of his breeches.  He could almost feel her smirk against the suddenly incredibly sensitive skin of his lower stomach as she verified the effect she was having on him before she reversed the direction of her mastication and worked her way up his body.  She seized his mouth again, tongue and lips devouring him in a possessive manner that he never knew dwelled under that calm, intense, and above all focused demeanor.  He didn't notice when the knife withdrew from his throat and her arms wrapped around his neck, so caught up was he in the heat and passion of the bewitching creature sitting astride him.

When the kiss finally ended, she placed her arms on his chest and pushed herself upright.  Both of them were panting now, their short, sharp breaths filling the night around them.  The air literally crackled, and Alistair realized that he had unwittingly unleashed some of his Templar skills during the amorous assault.  "Maker--!" he managed.  "Kal--"

She laid a finger on his mouth.  "Don't. Say. A. Word," she bit off slowly.  Whipping her head to the side, she hissed at Fracas, "Back to camp!"  The warhound whined, then reluctantly turned and trotted back in the direction of the camp.  She turned a smoldering gaze back to the ex-Templar still pinned under her.  Her fingers toyed with his chest hair as she said, "Did you want to say something?"

Trying to concentrate beyond the feel of her fingers on his chest, he said, "If he goes back alone, won't everyone know--?"

His question trailed off as she leaned down slightly, a wicked grin on her face.  "They're not that far away."  Her fingers reached up and started slowly unfastening the clasps of her shirt.  "I think you can make certain that they know exactly what we're up to."

A wave of heat washed over him at those words, and with a hungry growl of his own, he grabbed her arms and heaved with his feet.  The quick maneuver put him in the place of dominance on top of her.  His breath caught as he glanced down and saw the moonlight glinting on the pale skin around her partially exposed chest.  "Maker, what you do to me, woman," he said huskily as he bent his head and applied himself to the tempting expanse of flesh.

Suddenly remembering her injury, he forced himself to stop the ravishing for a moment.  "What about your wound?  I don't want to aggravate it with..." he paused, searching for the right words.

She chuckled throatily.  "Overly strenuous activity?"

He nodded, forcing his gaze away from where his attention had been focused.  "Yes," he gasped.

Kal looked at him, head cocked.  Suddenly a mischievous smile lit her face.  "Don't worry, Alistair.  My injury looks worse than it is."  Alistair grinned and leaned down to continue his ministrations.  He almost didn't hear her continue, "I made sure of that."

Somehow the implication of her words registered through the rising red haze of lust.  Gasping, he pulled back from her.  "What?" he asked, stunned.

The elf laughed at his expression.  "I had to get your attention somehow."

"Yes, but..."  He shook his head as silent laughter gripped him, the pent-up tension and self-recrimination finding a sudden outlet at her startling revelation.  "Really, Kal?"

She shrugged, causing shifts in her anatomy that distracted him again.  "We all needed a few days rest from the road, anyway.  I figured this way, you and I would have some time to get...reacquainted."  She shifted underneath him, driving herself into parts of him that suddenly very much wanted his attention.  "Now, where were we?"

Modifié par tklivory, 23 octobre 2011 - 11:58 .

[RagingCyclone]

tklivory---thanks. I try to keep the couple as real as I can...and she is his rock. There are moments where he has doubts and fears that only she sees...and at times for him she is the voice of reason. They have their moments of passion...quite a few.

and your prompt...I love it. What better way to break the tension of an argument but with more...tension.

[tklivory]

Drive-by Alistair (not mine, but I a shot I always liked a lot!):




And now a question for the faithful:

As a recent devotee at the altar of Dragon Age, I am still in the midst of discovering various aspects of the lore, characters, and what other players think of such things.  Though I never wrote any FF before I started posting on this site, nor read any, I have now ventured into both writing (a little) and reading (a lot) due to this game.  I also know that FF is met with varying degrees of enjoyment or dismissal, here and elsewhere.  This subject got me to thinking, however, about the nature of the game and why it draws us in.  I know that in the past, this question has been posed in one way or another by those who haunt the forums, but my questions are more on these lines:

1) To those of you who create (whether 'tis writing, art, music, video, &c): what was it about Dragon Age in general and Alistair in particular that made you take your craft and apply it?

2) To those who consume the creations: which ones do you remember the best and why?  What has struck you the deepest, and what has left you the most cold?  (You can be specific, such as a particular work, or general like a specific sub-genre like kmeme)?

3) To those who avoid such creations: what aspect of the fan-created fictional outlets displeases you?  Are there some types of FF (writings, drawings, video, &c) that you can tolerate, and others you cannot?

To those who take the time to read and respond to these impertinent requests, I give my thanks.

[RagingCyclone]

tklivory---for years since I was in college I played fps games (Doom series, Half Life series, Quake series, Jedi Knight series) and for a change of pace back in '04 tried KOTOR. It was my first rpg and I loved it. When I got into DAO it was the first time I could really get into a character in a game. THe story was a typical epic type story but with just enough of it's own that I liked it a lot. But being able to get into the Dan Cousland character was got me to start writing his stories. I like writing little "spice of life" bits instead of the typical follow the game types of fic. They allow me to put down his mindset and how the others reacted to him as I played. In fact I enjoy that character so much I have replayed his game four times and just started a fifth. The more I play the more I get in touch with his character. Call it quirky but I just connected with this character more than any other in any game I have played.

[Penarddun]

Hmm, I always played adventure type games, point and click type stuff for the PC. I won't go too far into that addiction of mine,  but it was my source of entertainment during all my growing up years.

I'm trying to remember if I played an RPG before DA:O. I don't think I did. Or if I did, it certainly didn't leave that much of an impression on me, which doesn't bode too well for it. I have started a few after discovering DA, but none have kept me enthralled enough to finish yet. I keep coming back here.

I never read any FF before DA and the only stories I wrote were entirely my own creation. But many times when I tried to write in the past, I had these great concepts and plots, but my characters always fell short. I just didn't know what to do with them. Or how to make them real or interesting. They were always cookie cutters, and always dull. Recently I have been writing a FF based off of the Mage origin (because that one seems to have the most relevance for me). So I'm using my love of this game as a learning tool for character development and writing. Who knew that having pre-conceieved characters, and then working with them to bring out and illustrate who they are, could be such a great practice tool.

But why DA:O and why Alistair? LIke you said many people have put out their opinions on this. I think playing an RPG takes you to a different level of involvement than a different type of game or a novel would. Honestly, I can't just say that it's Alistair. As much as I adore everything he represents, I happen to really like Morrigan's character, and Leliana, and Oghren, okay I may as well list all of them because they each add a unique quality. Each one enriches the experience. And maybe that's what it comes down to for me. How many times do we hear that some epic novel or film is so great because of the characters and actor's who portray them in the best possible way?

And then you have to consider the things that detract from an experience. If there is one badly written character, him/her can detract from the good ones. I know many will disagree, but there was nothing about DA:O that detracted from the experience for me (except the glitches post-landsmeet, but by then I was hooked anyway). Every so often, everything just comes together in the perfect way and a group of people create something... magical. And that's pretty much what happened here, in my opinion. Maybe this is too much of a stretch, but I would describe DA:O as the Casablanca of video games.

Modifié par Penarddun, 24 octobre 2011 - 03:27 .

[tklivory]

Penarddun wrote...

Hmm, I always played adventure type games, point and click type stuff for the PC. I won't go too far into that addiction of mine,  but it was my source of entertainment during all my growing up years.

Ahhh, Sierra & Westwood Studios, how I miss thee...   (psst, if you liked those, check out this site... just sayin'...

I'm trying to remember if I played an RPG before DA:O. I don't think I did. Or if I did, it certainly didn't leave that much of an impression on me, which doesn't bode too well for it. I have started a few after discovering DA, but none have kept me enthralled enough to finish yet. I keep coming back here.

I played RPG's extensively meself, but mostly they were the party-based, 'do this, do that' type of games or JRPGs (like Final Fantasy &c).  I primarily base my RPG approvals on: story and length. Most RPGs tend to default to the very basic plot element of 'big bad evil exists, you make it fall down and go boom, yay!', and I like the way DAO plays with that trope and amplifies it.  I think (as you say below) that it is the variety of characters and the way you can interact with them that clinch the deal for DAO.

I never read any FF before DA and the only stories I wrote were entirely my own creation. But many times when I tried to write in the past, I had these great concepts and plots, but my characters always fell short. I just didn't know what to do with them. Or how to make them real or interesting. They were always cookie cutters, and always dull. Recently I have been writing a FF based off of the Mage origin (because that one seems to have the most relevance for me). So I'm using my love of this game as a learning tool for character development and writing. Who knew that having pre-conceieved characters, and then working with them to bring out and illustrate who they are, could be such a great practice tool.

But why DA:O and why Alistair? LIke you said many people have put out their opinions on this. I think playing an RPG takes you to a different level of involvement than a different type of game or a novel would. Honestly, I can't just say that it's Alistair. As much as I adore everything he represents, I happen to really like Morrigan's character, and Leliana, and Oghren, okay I may as well list all of them because they each add a unique quality. Each one enriches the experience. And maybe that's what it comes down to for me. How many times do we hear that some epic novel or film is so great because of the characters and actor's who portray them in the best possible way?

And then you have to consider the things that detract from an experience. If there is one badly written character, him/her can detract from the good ones. I know many will disagree, but there was nothing about DA:O that detracted from the experience for me (except the glitches post-landsmeet, but by then I was hooked anyway). Every so often, everything just comes together in the perfect way and a group of people create something... magical. And that's pretty much what happened here, in my opinion. Maybe this is too much of a stretch, but I would describe DA:O as the Casablanca of video games.

Thanks for the thoughtful response!  I agree with you that one of the lasting powers of the game is that the characters are so well-written.  The only time people complain about the characters (i.e., Alistair is whiny, Anora is a *itch, &c) is usually because they never looked under the hood of the characters and dismissed the DAO characters as being as poorly written as most RPG characters are written.

If DAO has a deep-set problem, it seems to be that the whole game just cannot be fully appreciated with a single playthrough (literally).

[theskymoves]

I write, voluminously, very badly, and solely for the benefit of my
role-play, a habit I acquired during my never-ending Morrowind PT. It
helps me to understand my PC, and gives me a way to expand relationships
and interactions, and
to fill in the parts of the story that happen "off screen".

I
read some fan fic, but not much and not in an organized way, mostly
because while I am still actively playing I prefer not being influenced
by another's take on things; the first piece of DA fic I ever stumbled
on nearly put me off the game entirely, so strongly did it color my
impressions and feelings about certain characters and events. Since
then, I tend to be a bit leery of reading something that hasn't been
recommended or vetted by someone I trust. (And that said, I do bookmark
tons of things and copy/paste nearly as many into Word docs, for perusal
in a time when I've wrung everything I can out of the game.)

pax~
tsm

Modifié par theskymoves, 25 octobre 2011 - 03:58 .

[Penarddun]

tklivory wrote...
Ahhh, Sierra & Westwood Studios, how I miss thee...   (psst, if you liked those, check out this site... just sayin'...

YES! Love both those studios. So sad they aren't around any more. And I love LA too. I've played all the games from AGD! They did them beautifully.

Anyway... *cough* I will stop myself before I open up that gate and get way off topic.

tklivory wrote...
The only time people complain about the characters (i.e., Alistair is whiny, Anora is a *itch, &c) is usually because they never looked under the hood of the characters and dismissed the DAO characters as being as poorly written as most RPG characters are written.

If DAO has a deep-set problem, it seems to be that the whole game just cannot be fully appreciated with a single playthrough (literally).

When I hear people complain about the characters I don't mind too much. Because the people who do seem to dislike them, do so very loudly. And any character who can generate that kind of strong emotion, whether good or bad, is a well written character.

And I do agree with you on the multiple playthroughs. I'm glad there are so many achievements that encourage mutliple runs.

Because there can never be too much Alistair on one page (not mine):


He looks so young and innocent here. :wub:

Modifié par Penarddun, 25 octobre 2011 - 04:29 .

[java_jive_girl]

Just stopping by for a quick hello before I go off to bed...I'll be posting more later as a response to some posts, but I wanted to show off the pumpkin that I stayed up until after midnight to create! I know this has been done before, but I'm quite proud of it as my previous pumpkin carving experience consisted only of scary/silly faces.

[KnightofPhoenix]

tklivory wrote...

3) To those who avoid such creations: what aspect of the fan-created fictional outlets displeases you?  Are there some types of FF (writings, drawings, video, &c) that you can tolerate, and others you cannot?

To be blunt when it comes to writing, out of experience (which is limited) the vast majority of them are bad, at least in my opinion. I don't mind drawings (unless they badly draw Morrigan) or videos (I made one, the quality of which is not that great).

There are a few writings that I can tolerate, written by people that I know and with whom I've discussed / debated on the lore a lot. So I trust their judgement. They also do a decent job on the political aspects, which if done badly is usually the quickest way to irritate me.

As for the impact of DA:O. I admit, after playing The Witcher 2, my respect for DA:O degraded quite a bit (same with all Bioware games). It showed me how truly lacking they are in the things I am interested in. That being said, there is no denying that DA:O left a huge impact on me. It was my first *real* RPG experience. I've never been attached to characters as much as DA:O companions. And I've never been invested in a setting as much as Thedas, before DA2 virtually destroyed my interest. 

So DA:O, despite its major flaws becoming more glaring in my eyes, is still a game I love and it holds a special place in my heart (which is really hard to get).