6662 réponses à ce sujet

[MatrixGirl]

Godzilla

I will try to get you one when I play the game again :-)

[Peregrinus]

So who we have here:

 

Godzilla: CEO

Cyan: Writer

Essorance: Voice Actor

MatrixGirl: Voice Actress

Kilrb: Engineer

DisturbedJim: Engineer

Shush: Music composer (Yup )

Me: 3d Modeller / Artist

 

Who did I miss? lol

I can be  IT support if you'll have me.   I have experience in system integration,good hardware/software troubleshooting (500+ server/system builds.) I did major in Graphic Design in college so I could probably do some concept art but I'm rusty at that.   I can also get everyone weapons qualified with M16, M203, M60, SAW, and AT-4 just in case of a Zombie Apocalypse.  

 

p.s. I could also teach the team Taekwondo, and Judo.  I have 13 years of training, well as some military tactics.

[Peregrinus]

Well my verdict after 7 hours of gaming.
The first 4 hours are doing side quests and picking up stuff for other people
Game is fun kind of :-)
I just finished the fight before talking to Mother Giselle in the Hinterlands
Game running at a solid 60FPS everything on high except went with fxaa instead of HBAO:-)
Cut scenes nice and smooth
Did not see anything weird yet :-)
CPU and GPU running nice and cool :-)
Yes the combat is weird so as the looting since you have to be real close to loot :-)
I do have the banter going on :-)
So I am kind of happy :-)
For those of you who wanted to know :-)
Yes one weird thing when you wait for a few minutes the entire party starts dancing all over the place :-)

It's much better storywise/quest wise once you leave the Hinterlands behind.    

[MatrixGirl]

Peregrinus

 

I hope so this is where I am right now :-)

[MatrixGirl]

all right all :-)

 

I am out for the night :-)

it girls night out time :-)

see you guys later :-)

[MatrixGirl]

And I am also PR and HR in this venture :-)

 

see you later people :-)

[Peregrinus]

Peregrinus

 

I hope so this is where I am right now :-)

I think GODzilla brought up a good point in how to play in an earlier post. Side quests are only necessary so you can get enough power to move you onto the main quest.  The ones below are the story main quests. 

 

• The Wrath of Heaven
• The Threat Remains
• Champions of the Just
• In Hushed Whispers
• In Your Heart Shall Burn
• From the Ashes
• Here Lies the Abyss
• Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts
• Doom Upon All the World

[Jackal19851111]

Actually, no. It's because I hold a degree in business, that I despise bad marketing.  Values based marketing with good values, YES PLEASE (example: the Witcher series). can't do business (or law but it's the same) without that these days...

 

Heh same, unfortunately for many it's all about the bottom line, ethics be damned, "companies exist to generate profit, boost the economy, and provide jobs" and all that justification.

 

I look forward to telling my grand-kids someday that I was there ...

 

That I knew the geniuses who did IT ...

 

That changed the way games were made, marketed, and played ...

 

 ... and that I played even the smallest part.

 

http://www.despair.com/teamwork.html

 

Yeah then once we become famous we'll have folks say "I knew this guy/gal!" and no one will ever believe them

 

I can be  IT support if you'll have me.   I have experience in system integration,good hardware/software troubleshooting (500+ server/system builds.) I did major in Graphic Design in college so I could probably do some concept art but I'm rusty at that.   I can also get everyone weapons qualified with M16, M203, M60, SAW, and AT-4 just in case of a Zombie Apocalypse.  

 

p.s. I could also teach the team Taekwondo, and Judo.  I have 13 years of training, well as some military tactics.

 

IT it is! + Another artist!!!

 

Just keep practicing. They look pretty good to me. 

 

Thanks to the physics/weight distribution/rotor placement system in the game most of the time it looks like THIS:

 

 

Junkyard full of helis that can't fly, vehicles that have bad handling, etc etc lol

But that's the game, it's freeform but when I make vehicles in PE I also have to consider the proportions/materials/etc. Currently I found out at the last minute my NOD stealth tank is... a tighter fit than I anticipated!

If I ever get 3dsmax, maybe able to make better stuff.

[Ashen Nedra]

Ashen, what exactly are we creating? 

 

A skeleton of a team for making our own RPG game one day, using all the skills and experiences of the passionate people on this group and on the Master PC Community Thread.

 

The idea would be to learn from all the mistakes described in a 400+ pages long thread and to do, basically, the opposite. On a much more modest scale, of course.

 

To use a more 'positive' way of looking at things, we would be following CDProjekt Red and AA Indies' business model.

 

What would have been an impossible dream just yesterday has became a somewhat improbable reality today, thanks to crowd funding and collaborative working techniques on the Web.

 

But we have a loooooot of time. This is still a dream, albeit no longer an impossible one, imho. 

 

Something like that.

 

In the meantime, nothing changes; this Group is still, I hope, a nice Group to chill and exchange, to make our voices heard at Bioware's level or even generally on the Web.

 

Think of what we already accomplished: 1M+ views of the Master thread and Forbes and Kotaku are basically paraphrasing people on this thread, two or three months after the fact. We therefore have all the expertise and technique we need directly available to us.

Modifié par Ashen Nedra, 24 janvier 2015 - 12:36 .
grammar/typos

[Ashen Nedra]

I can be  IT support if you'll have me.   I have experience in system integration,good hardware/software troubleshooting (500+ server/system builds.) I did major in Graphic Design in college so I could probably do some concept art but I'm rusty at that.   I can also get everyone weapons qualified with M16, M203, M60, SAW, and AT-4 just in case of a Zombie Apocalypse.  

 

p.s. I could also teach the team Taekwondo, and Judo.  I have 13 years of training, well as some military tactics.

Damn impressive references...Euh you are will be hired?

[Ashen Nedra]

Ashen

Did you read my review so far ?

Yes I did. You're still having fun because you knew you were gonna talk to us about it, weren't you?...

 

Try doing a binge gaming session without typing and you'll experience the GRIND and the BOREDOM

[Lady Mutare]

I imagine that my latest comments in the forums will earn me another mute , BTW I have been muted the last few days, hence my silence.

[GODzilla]

Well I guess you take the sentence in your signature to heart, always. Right?

[Lady Mutare]

LOL Actually Yes. read my bio and it pretty much explains why I am the way I am.

[shushNMD]

Yes I did. You're still having fun because you knew you were gonna talk to us about it, weren't you?...
 
Try doing a binge gaming session without typing and you'll experience the GRIND and the BOREDOM

Oh that DAI grind, oh that DAI boredom. I only managed to get into Skyhold and at this point I just gave up. Can't force myself to collect any more shards or deliver packages for NPCs I really don't care about.
And my PSU fried it looks like a Mountain Doom right now.

[Jackal19851111]

Indies are where the innovation is, the successful ones are ones that offer something people have never seen before, or haven't seen for a long, long time. Mount and Blade got me into the indie scene for mounted combat, ended up with more than just that though, sandbox open world/excellent swordplay/etc etc. Lancing someone in the face at full speed, landing a bullsh-t headshot at full-speed with a bow, clonking a horseman off his horse with a warhammer ahhh good times.

[Ashen Nedra]

"What's wrong with these people then? Why am I needed?" asked Dayved.

"I don't know, sir. The Captain is very brief in speech. I am not one to ask...," Jorin said while maintaining a good, brisk walk with the Templar. he thought to himself, for an old man he still walks with purpose.

"Sometimes you need to ask," said Dayved as he stopped suddenly and Jorin almost walked into his mounted shield. "You don't question the order, you question the intent. Everything else is just someone's will needing to be accomplished. Don't ever stop trusting that heart of yours. It's going to hurt and bleed, but in the end... it's with you until the Maker calls you to his side."

And with a polished move of soldier in a parade, an about face and back to the brisk walk towards the Captain.

"I'll try not to disappoint you Uncle," said Jorin.

"Uncle... yeah, I said you can use it," said Dayved. "You don't have to worry about disappointing me Jorin. Just stay kind and the rest will fall into place." 

The two finally meet up with the Captain Miler who was addressing a squad of knights who were dispatched to the main gate per order of Queen Anora. 

"Dayved. I think we have a big problem," said Miler "A merchant that we know arrived to the gate last night and permitted entry. He said there is a group of mages on the run from the Chantry and they're outside with that huge mob." 

"Mages? Coming here? I'm too old for this..." said the Templar as he brought up his right hand to block the rising sun. 

"Possibly, but there's more," Miler motioned Dayved away from the knights. "Go to your assigned towers and be prepared when the gate is open." 

"Dayved, there is more. These mages might be from Kirkwall. They are dangerous and they will kill you if they see you," said Miler in a calm whisper. "What do you think I should do?"

"Open the gate."

Incredulous, Miler says, "Just like that?"

"Just like that. Let's see what we're up against."

Miler calls to nearest guard and yells to open Denerim for business. The amount of sighs that morning took much of the tension out of the air as the portcullis opened. 

Each family passed through the array of fortifications to slow an advance on the city. At each station, there were guards inspecting wagons for contraband and reporting anyone with disease. There were injured and some suffering from ailments unrelated to the blight.

Dayved stopped to see those with ailments and sent them to the rebuilt chantry with an armed escort. However, Dayved wasn't looking for Blight. Not anymore. Then he saw his first clue. A tranquil. No disguising that mark. He's not wearing his circle robe. He's got on the clothes commoners would wear working the fields. Then the sense of magic began to appear in the mind's eye. It's unseen, but a Templar can sense it, feel it and it's faint. Mages are here and they're trying to hide. How many mages are here, then? Blood magic, possession, vengeance, mistrust and fear. "Oh Maker. It's going to be one of those days." 

So read it, it's good.   how long have you been writing?

[Lady Mutare]

Fallen Earth, I played it in Beta and for the last 5 years. I think it was a better when the old Icarus owned it, now G1 owns it. But still its my favorite MMO game. Morrowind is my favorite game of all time.  I just think games back then were written better. It was not about the graphics obviously.  The original NWN was great, good story. I didn't feel Inquisition had a story to tell.  My Fem SHep had a great story and I love that franchise, but it pales with Morrowinds story telling and engaging missions.

[Peregrinus]

This is a recap of Cyan's amazing story so far. I've made some spelling corrections, etc. 

 

Spoiler

Cyan Griffonclaw’s Tale thus far.

 

    Today was one of those days that Jorin wished he wasn’t assigned to the main gate of the Denerim. Jorin, a young man of 16, was a templar’s squire for almost six years. He was rescued by the templar a few years ago after his village was hit by apostates on the run from the Chantry. The Templar, a man in his early 40s, had come to the Chantry a decade ago when a new sense of purpose came over him. Faith changed his mind to serve the Maker, instead of being some strong arm for a noble.  

The Templar, Dayved, had recently decided it was time to stop hunting mages and settle in for retirement. His squire was much too young to retire so the templar had put in a good word with the captain of the guard. He also dropped some gold coinage into the guard captain’s pocket to insure Jorin would have a steady, but reasonably safe job. Guarding a gate is never usually safe, but in this city where two dozen guards are assigned to watch the main entrance meant that Jorin would never have to deal with any issues by himself.

It was the first full day after a brilliant, orange full moon and that always means it’s the first day after the reaping. Grain merchants would arrive to the capital city of Amaranthine. However, the long line of visitors to the city weren’t grain merchants. From the gate tower, he could see a long line of people of all ages on the road stretching back to the horizon. He saw all sorts of animals (mabaris, sheep, goats, horses and cattle) walking alongside the procession of people and he could tell even from his high vantage point that the mood beneath him was sour and desperate.

Jorin told his best friend and fellow guardsman, Rollin, to look outside after he finished wiping down his leather breastplate.

“I don’t like the looks of this,” said Rollin, “Refugees, maybe?”

Jorin could only shrug his shoulders. He quickly felt for his short sword’s pommel that was placed in its scabbard. “Whoever they are… the guard captain is going to want to know about this.”

“Ah well… since you’re the new guy and all… You have the honors,” said Rollin as he quickly exited the tower’s viewing room and headed downstairs.

Jorin looked down at himself making sure everything he wore was in its proper place. Satisfied with his uniform, he took the duty roster off the wooden table by the observation window. He could hear the blacksmith’s hammer striking unworked metal in the distance and the usual sound of foot traffic beneath his vantage point. The sounds of voices this morning were much more tense than usual and the portcullis hadn’t even been raised yet.

He made a quick prayer to the Maker and headed downstairs to take the short walk to the guard captain’s quarters.

He knocked on the heavy door and waited for the gruff or terse response from the captain of the guard. He got none. He knocked again and was startled to hear the guard captain’s voice come from outside the tower.

“Jorin! I’m out here,” said Miler.

Jorin quickly ran out of the tower and handed the duty roster to the captain. Ser Miler took it without looking at it and took Jorin by a shoulder. “Go get the templar Dayved. We have refugees from all over the territory and then give this to this seneschal.” He handed Jorin a scribbled note and gently pushed him away. He then ordered the guards to keep the portcullis closed and to tell the masses outside to wait patiently until the seneschal gives his blessing. He noticed archers hurriedly getting their bows and quivers ready and standing very nervous against the wall’s ladders.

Jorin turned away and headed to the abbey near the city’s beautiful cathedral. He knew where Dayved was staying ever since the former soldier decided it was time to serve the Maker instead of nobles. It was still just moments after sunrise and Jorin knew Dayved would still be in bed. Dayved didn’t get up until he was either summoned or his stomach growled. None of the other Templars bother with Dayved unless they’re inside the training circle. There Dayved stays in somewhat of a fighting form and gets just a tiny pleasure in giving a recruit a memorable lesson in combat. Though he rarely speaks aloud, he has been known to voice his opinion whenever he sees Templars talking in hushed tones about the dark side of their responsibility. He rarely wakes up without hearing a friend lost to combat on some battlefield for some stupid reason and…

The pounding on the door was loud and insistent. “Dayved! This is Jorin. Please let me in, sir.”

The young guardsman walked up the short flight of stairs and entered the hallway. He didn’t have to go too far inside to find Dayved’s door. It was the first door by the entrance, a convenient spot for the Templar. He can come and go as he pleased and would not interfere with the clergy’s personnel or their daily affairs.

Jorin, now worried, opened the door ajar and saw the aging warrior sitting at the edge of his bed rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Dayved looked up at Jorin and smiled. “I already got an earful from Brother Canell last night. So how many are there?”

“Hundreds. Maybe thousands. The mob stretches to the horizon.”

The smile quickly faded from Dayved’s face. He exhaled deeply and asked Jorin to help him put his on armor for old time’s sake.

Morning breath and incense were overpowering Jorin’s sense of smell as he helped the older veteran put on his intricate armor that served as protection and defined the person wearing it as an appointed soldier of the faith. Once the armor was fastened, Dayved opened a cabinet where his longsword stood wrapped in purple cloth. He unwrapped the sword from its protective cloth and studied it. It was still as shiny and unused as the day it was presented to him by King Maric, father of the new king who was once a Templar in training and one of three Grey Wardens to end the fifth blight.

The sword was a gift for Dayved who had fought a darkspawn squad that was intent on killing Queen Anora. Dayved, not a Grey Warden, fought the darkspawn quartet of two Genlocks, one Hurlock and an ogre. He barely survived the assault, but Queen Anora was kept safe. It also helped that a lost Legion of the Dead squad arrived and pretty much saved Dayved and Queen Anora, but that’s up to debate. Queen Anora was safely hidden in alley behind some barrels and could only see Dayved absorbing abuse from the ogre. Okay, abuse is not good enough. The ogre was repeatedly jumping up and down on Dayved’s shield and screaming into Dayved’s face. I digress…

The sword, decorated with various jewels indigenous to the southern lands, wasn’t just used for ceremonial purposes. It was made by the kingdom’s best blacksmith, Herren. It was tailor-made for the Templar. He pulled his second Templar shield down from the wall where it has gathered dust. The shield, a mix of onyx, silverite and everite was commissioned by the church to honor those who will defend the interests of the faith during the siege of Denerim. The shield is decorated with an outline of the order using a touch of bloodstone. Dayved felt embarrassed that Jorin had seen the shield so dusty so he grabbed the purple cloth and wiped it down. “Things gather dust when you don’t put them to use,” said the Templar. He then grabbed some “holy” wine and rinsed out his mouth before heading out of his room with his ‘old’ squire in tow.

The white and purple cloth tunic underneath his plate mail was unique to the church. It symbolized that the Templar took orders only from the head of the church itself, Mother Islane. Templars give the Chantry the reach needed to bring order out of chaos. At least, that is what Dayved tells himself. How long has it been since the debacle in Kirkwall?

Jorin walked a step behind the paladin and remembered how this veteran would lead small groups of soldiers against larger numbered outlaws and brigands with overwhelming success. He knew Dayved had two sides to him.

Jorin had seen firsthand of the Templar’s own sense of justice. It would lead to brutal, public executions of those who survived the initial onslaught. Dayved would decapitate those already killed and had their heads placed on poles at the outskirts of the village or town he was sent to defend. He would then take those whose surrendered back to the village for a public beating before hanging the offended. He would also conscript the youngest of the brigands to servitude of the local church. This Templar saw what needed to be done and just did it. When the Chantry needs someone to persuade an opponent or obstacle to change their course, Dayved would visit. He never had to be sent twice to speak to someone.

Then just as terrible one side of him can be, he sees a side filled with emotions that run the gamut. Some would say he is erratic. His temper, once checked, floods the Templar’s brain and heart with remorse, regret, unhappiness and then slowly, faith. It’s that faith that he is following the Maker’s wisdom that is laid out for all to see in the Chant of Light. It’s the emotional turmoil that is wearisome and has aged the Templar much more than he already should be. He is known it far too long and has even given that silent companion that reminds him of what a monster he can be and it was the Blight. So many infected and so many wanting to be home again. Most of them were elves wanting to be in the sad alienage of Denerim. No one around there to heal. No Grey Wardens to offer advice. They all couldn’t go back to Denerim. Not with the Blight.

“You look like you’re better,” said Jorin. “Are you sleeping better?”

 

“Yes. And no. I hope it’s not the Blight out there.”

 

    "What's wrong with these people then? Why am I needed?" asked Dayved.

"I don't know, sir. The Captain is very brief in speech. I am not one to ask...," Jorin said while maintaining a good, brisk walk with the Templar. he thought to himself, for an old man he still walks with purpose.

"Sometimes you need to ask," said Dayved as he stopped suddenly and Jorin almost walked into his mounted shield. "You don't question the order, you question the intent. Everything else is just someone's will needing to be accomplished. Don't ever stop trusting that heart of yours. It's going to hurt and bleed, but in the end... it's with you until the Maker calls you to his side."

And with a polished move of soldier in a parade, an about face and back to the brisk walk towards the Captain.

"I'll try not to disappoint you Uncle," said Jorin.

"Uncle... yeah, I said you can use it," said Dayved. "You don't have to worry about disappointing me Jorin. Just stay kind and the rest will fall into place."

The two finally meet up with the Captain Miler who was addressing a squad of knights who were dispatched to the main gate per order of Queen Anora.

"Dayved. I think we have a big problem," said Miler "A merchant that we know arrived to the gate last night and permitted entry. He said there is a group of mages on the run from the Chantry and they're outside with that huge mob."

"Mages? Coming here? I'm too old for this..." said the Templar as he brought up his right hand to block the rising sun.

"Possibly, but there's more," Miler motioned Dayved away from the knights. "Go to your assigned towers and be prepared when the gate is open."

"Dayved, there is more. These mages might be from Kirkwall. They are dangerous and they will kill you if they see you," said Miler in a calm whisper. "What do you think I should do?"

"Open the gate."

Incredulous, Miler says, "Just like that?"

"Just like that. Let's see what we're up against."

Miler calls to nearest guard and yells to open Denerim for business. The amount of sighs that morning took much of the tension out of the air as the portcullis opened.

Each family passed through the array of fortifications to slow an advance on the city. At each station, there were guards inspecting wagons for contraband and reporting anyone with disease. There were injured and some suffering from ailments unrelated to the blight.

Dayved stopped to see those with ailments and sent them to the rebuilt chantry with an armed escort. However, Dayved wasn't looking for Blight. Not anymore. Then he saw his first clue. A tranquil. No disguising that mark. He's not wearing his circle robe. He's got on the clothes commoners would wear working the fields. Then the sense of magic began to appear in the mind's eye. It's unseen, but a Templar can sense it, feel it and it's faint. Mages are here and they're trying to hide. How many mages are here, then? Blood magic, possession, vengeance, mistrust and fear. "Oh Maker. It's going to be one of those days."

 

    Dayved let the Tranquil pass unquestioned. "Jorin, tell Captain Miler to put eyes on the fellow whose head is down and carrying a large leather bag strapped to his back. Do you see who I am seeing without giving us away?"

 

"Yes, sir," with that Jorin left the Templar there alone as the parade of humanity and animals passed. As each mage saw Dayved, they all kept calm, but the presence of the Templar unnerved a few to try and act even more inconspicuous. He had felt at least a dozen pass by and all were cleverly clothed. Twelve apostates, one tranquil and a countless number of families fleeing from bandits, apostates, and Chasind who were displaced from the Blighted Wilds (Korcari).

 

As the last of the refugees, merchants and animals crossed through the gate, Dayved had seen enough and decided he better inform the Captain that there at least 12 apostates among all those that entered. To alarm the guards of their presence would've only invited violence and innocents to be harmed. Instead, Dayved was going to hunt them down, one at a time and use the Tranquil to his advantage.

 

Just as his mind was formulating his next step, he turned around to find a man in his mid-thirties. Eyes tired from  a lack of sleep and wearing a shirt likened by the pirates of the Eastern Seas. His pants were leather and covered in dust from miles of walking. He held a staff and said, "Do you understand what Justice really is?"

 

     All the hairs on the back of Dayved's neck stood at attention. He looked at the blonde-haired figure and realized he couldn't see any trace of magic, but there was something there. Something familiar.

 

"I absolutely know what Justice is... what it demands. What it is for... who are you? Why are you addressing me," asked Dayved as nonchalant as he could pull off. He assessed no less than four archers above him and two knights within a few steps distance to aid him if things went sour. He didn't count any innocents because it didn't matter to Dayved. Nothing matters when an apostate is on the loose.

 

The blonde-haired fellow moved his staff to his left hand and extended his right for a handshake. "My name is Anders. I'm a bit of an apothecarist and it's a pleasure to meet you."

 

Dayved looked down at Ander's inviting hand and locked his eyes with Anders. "My name is Dayved. I'm a Templar and..."

 

A feeling of calmness passed through Dayved that he had never experienced before. His readiness and his defenses felt stripped from him. A feeling he hasn't experienced since his first ingestion of lyrium. A sense of freedom or a heavy weight lifted off his shoulders.

 

"... and we can use a good healer here. Lots of refugees here needing help. Go to the chantry and tell them Dayved sent you. Tell them you're clean."

 

    

 

[Ashen Nedra]

This is a recap of Cyan's amazing story so far. I've made some spelling corrections, etc. 

 

Cyan Griffonclaw’s Tale thus far.

 

    Today was one of those days that Jorin wished he wasn’t assigned to the main gate of the Denerim. Jorin, a young man of 16, was a templar’s squire for almost six years. He was rescued by the templar a few years ago after his village was hit by apostates on the run from the Chantry. The Templar, a man in his early 40s, had come to the Chantry a decade ago when a new sense of purpose came over him. Faith changed his mind to serve the Maker, instead of being some strong arm for a noble.  

The Templar, Dayved, had recently decided it was time to stop hunting mages and settle in for retirement. His squire was much too young to retire so the templar had put in a good word with the captain of the guard. He also dropped some gold coinage into the guard captain’s pocket to insure Jorin would have a steady, but reasonably safe job. Guarding a gate is never usually safe, but in this city where two dozen guards are assigned to watch the main entrance meant that Jorin would never have to deal with any issues by himself.

It was the first full day after a brilliant, orange full moon and that always means it’s the first day after the reaping. Grain merchants would arrive to the capital city of Amaranthine. However, the long line of visitors to the city weren’t grain merchants. From the gate tower, he could see a long line of people of all ages on the road stretching back to the horizon. He saw all sorts of animals (mabaris, sheep, goats, horses and cattle) walking alongside the procession of people and he could tell even from his high vantage point that the mood beneath him was sour and desperate.

Jorin told his best friend and fellow guardsman, Rollin, to look outside after he finished wiping down his leather breastplate.

“I don’t like the looks of this,” said Rollin, “Refugees, maybe?”

Jorin could only shrug his shoulders. He quickly felt for his short sword’s pommel that was placed in its scabbard. “Whoever they are… the guard captain is going to want to know about this.”

“Ah well… since you’re the new guy and all… You have the honors,” said Rollin as he quickly exited the tower’s viewing room and headed downstairs.

Jorin looked down at himself making sure everything he wore was in its proper place. Satisfied with his uniform, he took the duty roster off the wooden table by the observation window. He could hear the blacksmith’s hammer striking unworked metal in the distance and the usual sound of foot traffic beneath his vantage point. The sounds of voices this morning were much more tense than usual and the portcullis hadn’t even been raised yet.

He made a quick prayer to the Maker and headed downstairs to take the short walk to the guard captain’s quarters.

He knocked on the heavy door and waited for the gruff or terse response from the captain of the guard. He got none. He knocked again and was startled to hear the guard captain’s voice come from outside the tower.

“Jorin! I’m out here,” said Miler.

Jorin quickly ran out of the tower and handed the duty roster to the captain. Ser Miler took it without looking at it and took Jorin by a shoulder. “Go get the templar Dayved. We have refugees from all over the territory and then give this to this seneschal.” He handed Jorin a scribbled note and gently pushed him away. He then ordered the guards to keep the portcullis closed and to tell the masses outside to wait patiently until the seneschal gives his blessing. He noticed archers hurriedly getting their bows and quivers ready and standing very nervous against the wall’s ladders.

Jorin turned away and headed to the abbey near the city’s beautiful cathedral. He knew where Dayved was staying ever since the former soldier decided it was time to serve the Maker instead of nobles. It was still just moments after sunrise and Jorin knew Dayved would still be in bed. Dayved didn’t get up until he was either summoned or his stomach growled. None of the other Templars bother with Dayved unless they’re inside the training circle. There Dayved stays in somewhat of a fighting form and gets just a tiny pleasure in giving a recruit a memorable lesson in combat. Though he rarely speaks aloud, he has been known to voice his opinion whenever he sees Templars talking in hushed tones about the dark side of their responsibility. He rarely wakes up without hearing a friend lost to combat on some battlefield for some stupid reason and…

The pounding on the door was loud and insistent. “Dayved! This is Jorin. Please let me in, sir.”

The young guardsman walked up the short flight of stairs and entered the hallway. He didn’t have to go too far inside to find Dayved’s door. It was the first door by the entrance, a convenient spot for the Templar. He can come and go as he pleased and would not interfere with the clergy’s personnel or their daily affairs.

Jorin, now worried, opened the door ajar and saw the aging warrior sitting at the edge of his bed rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Dayved looked up at Jorin and smiled. “I already got an earful from Brother Canell last night. So how many are there?”

“Hundreds. Maybe thousands. The mob stretches to the horizon.”

The smile quickly faded from Dayved’s face. He exhaled deeply and asked Jorin to help him put his on armor for old time’s sake.

Morning breath and incense were overpowering Jorin’s sense of smell as he helped the older veteran put on his intricate armor that served as protection and defined the person wearing it as an appointed soldier of the faith. Once the armor was fastened, Dayved opened a cabinet where his longsword stood wrapped in purple cloth. He unwrapped the sword from its protective cloth and studied it. It was still as shiny and unused as the day it was presented to him by King Maric, father of the new king who was once a Templar in training and one of three Grey Wardens to end the fifth blight.

The sword was a gift for Dayved who had fought a darkspawn squad that was intent on killing Queen Anora. Dayved, not a Grey Warden, fought the darkspawn quartet of two Genlocks, one Hurlock and an ogre. He barely survived the assault, but Queen Anora was kept safe. It also helped that a lost Legion of the Dead squad arrived and pretty much saved Dayved and Queen Anora, but that’s up to debate. Queen Anora was safely hidden in alley behind some barrels and could only see Dayved absorbing abuse from the ogre. Okay, abuse is not good enough. The ogre was repeatedly jumping up and down on Dayved’s shield and screaming into Dayved’s face. I digress…

The sword, decorated with various jewels indigenous to the southern lands, wasn’t just used for ceremonial purposes. It was made by the kingdom’s best blacksmith, Herren. It was tailor-made for the Templar. He pulled his second Templar shield down from the wall where it has gathered dust. The shield, a mix of onyx, silverite and everite was commissioned by the church to honor those who will defend the interests of the faith during the siege of Denerim. The shield is decorated with an outline of the order using a touch of bloodstone. Dayved felt embarrassed that Jorin had seen the shield so dusty so he grabbed the purple cloth and wiped it down. “Things gather dust when you don’t put them to use,” said the Templar. He then grabbed some “holy” wine and rinsed out his mouth before heading out of his room with his ‘old’ squire in tow.

The white and purple cloth tunic underneath his plate mail was unique to the church. It symbolized that the Templar took orders only from the head of the church itself, Mother Islane. Templars give the Chantry the reach needed to bring order out of chaos. At least, that is what Dayved tells himself. How long has it been since the debacle in Kirkwall?

Jorin walked a step behind the paladin and remembered how this veteran would lead small groups of soldiers against larger numbered outlaws and brigands with overwhelming success. He knew Dayved had two sides to him.

Jorin had seen firsthand of the Templar’s own sense of justice. It would lead to brutal, public executions of those who survived the initial onslaught. Dayved would decapitate those already killed and had their heads placed on poles at the outskirts of the village or town he was sent to defend. He would then take those whose surrendered back to the village for a public beating before hanging the offended. He would also conscript the youngest of the brigands to servitude of the local church. This Templar saw what needed to be done and just did it. When the Chantry needs someone to persuade an opponent or obstacle to change their course, Dayved would visit. He never had to be sent twice to speak to someone.

Then just as terrible one side of him can be, he sees a side filled with emotions that run the gamut. Some would say he is erratic. His temper, once checked, floods the Templar’s brain and heart with remorse, regret, unhappiness and then slowly, faith. It’s that faith that he is following the Maker’s wisdom that is laid out for all to see in the Chant of Light. It’s the emotional turmoil that is wearisome and has aged the Templar much more than he already should be. He is known it far too long and has even given that silent companion that reminds him of what a monster he can be and it was the Blight. So many infected and so many wanting to be home again. Most of them were elves wanting to be in the sad alienage of Denerim. No one around there to heal. No Grey Wardens to offer advice. They all couldn’t go back to Denerim. Not with the Blight.

“You look like you’re better,” said Jorin. “Are you sleeping better?”

 

“Yes. And no. I hope it’s not the Blight out there.”

 

    "What's wrong with these people then? Why am I needed?" asked Dayved.

"I don't know, sir. The Captain is very brief in speech. I am not one to ask...," Jorin said while maintaining a good, brisk walk with the Templar. he thought to himself, for an old man he still walks with purpose.

"Sometimes you need to ask," said Dayved as he stopped suddenly and Jorin almost walked into his mounted shield. "You don't question the order, you question the intent. Everything else is just someone's will needing to be accomplished. Don't ever stop trusting that heart of yours. It's going to hurt and bleed, but in the end... it's with you until the Maker calls you to his side."

And with a polished move of soldier in a parade, an about face and back to the brisk walk towards the Captain.

"I'll try not to disappoint you Uncle," said Jorin.

"Uncle... yeah, I said you can use it," said Dayved. "You don't have to worry about disappointing me Jorin. Just stay kind and the rest will fall into place."

The two finally meet up with the Captain Miler who was addressing a squad of knights who were dispatched to the main gate per order of Queen Anora.

"Dayved. I think we have a big problem," said Miler "A merchant that we know arrived to the gate last night and permitted entry. He said there is a group of mages on the run from the Chantry and they're outside with that huge mob."

"Mages? Coming here? I'm too old for this..." said the Templar as he brought up his right hand to block the rising sun.

"Possibly, but there's more," Miler motioned Dayved away from the knights. "Go to your assigned towers and be prepared when the gate is open."

"Dayved, there is more. These mages might be from Kirkwall. They are dangerous and they will kill you if they see you," said Miler in a calm whisper. "What do you think I should do?"

"Open the gate."

Incredulous, Miler says, "Just like that?"

"Just like that. Let's see what we're up against."

Miler calls to nearest guard and yells to open Denerim for business. The amount of sighs that morning took much of the tension out of the air as the portcullis opened.

Each family passed through the array of fortifications to slow an advance on the city. At each station, there were guards inspecting wagons for contraband and reporting anyone with disease. There were injured and some suffering from ailments unrelated to the blight.

Dayved stopped to see those with ailments and sent them to the rebuilt chantry with an armed escort. However, Dayved wasn't looking for Blight. Not anymore. Then he saw his first clue. A tranquil. No disguising that mark. He's not wearing his circle robe. He's got on the clothes commoners would wear working the fields. Then the sense of magic began to appear in the mind's eye. It's unseen, but a Templar can sense it, feel it and it's faint. Mages are here and they're trying to hide. How many mages are here, then? Blood magic, possession, vengeance, mistrust and fear. "Oh Maker. It's going to be one of those days."

 

    Dayved let the Tranquil pass unquestioned. "Jorin, tell Captain Miler to put eyes on the fellow whose head is down and carrying a large leather bag strapped to his back. Do you see who I am seeing without giving us away?"

 

"Yes, sir," with that Jorin left the Templar there alone as the parade of humanity and animals passed. As each mage saw Dayved, they all kept calm, but the presence of the Templar unnerved a few to try and act even more inconspicuous. He had felt at least a dozen pass by and all were cleverly clothed. Twelve apostates, one tranquil and a countless number of families fleeing from bandits, apostates, and Chasind who were displaced from the Blighted Wilds (Korcari).

 

As the last of the refugees, merchants and animals crossed through the gate, Dayved had seen enough and decided he better inform the Captain that there at least 12 apostates among all those that entered. To alarm the guards of their presence would've only invited violence and innocents to be harmed. Instead, Dayved was going to hunt them down, one at a time and use the Tranquil to his advantage.

 

Just as his mind was formulating his next step, he turned around to find a man in his mid-thirties. Eyes tired from  a lack of sleep and wearing a shirt likened by the pirates of the Eastern Seas. His pants were leather and covered in dust from miles of walking. He held a staff and said, "Do you understand what Justice really is?"

 

     All the hairs on the back of Dayved's neck stood at attention. He looked at the blonde-haired figure and realized he couldn't see any trace of magic, but there was something there. Something familiar.

 

"I absolutely know what Justice is... what it demands. What it is for... who are you? Why are you addressing me," asked Dayved as nonchalant as he could pull off. He assessed no less than four archers above him and two knights within a few steps distance to aid him if things went sour. He didn't count any innocents because it didn't matter to Dayved. Nothing matters when an apostate is on the loose.

 

The blonde-haired fellow moved his staff to his left hand and extended his right for a handshake. "My name is Anders. I'm a bit of an apothecarist and it's a pleasure to meet you."

 

Dayved looked down at Ander's inviting hand and locked his eyes with Anders. "My name is Dayved. I'm a Templar and..."

 

A feeling of calmness passed through Dayved that he had never experienced before. His readiness and his defenses felt stripped from him. A feeling he hasn't experienced since his first ingestion of lyrium. A sense of freedom or a heavy weight lifted off his shoulders.

 

"... and we can use a good healer here. Lots of refugees here needing help. Go to the chantry and tell them Dayved sent you. Tell them you're clean."

 

    

 

You ninja'ed me Was trying to send a revised version to Cyan just 10 seconds ago by PM. Still used to working with Word and such, I guess

[Peregrinus]

@Ashen  That's why you should use Google Docs.     

[Ashen Nedra]

@Ashen  That's why you should use Google Docs.     

Too many years of habit and reflexes to forget, at least for now...

 

Already been working/typing here 14 hours a day for 4 months now ......My extended family tells me to slow down. closing a big (at least for my firm) deal Tuesday.

 

Btw, I'm out for tonight till Sunday afternoon my time (CET). So, behave, gals and guys.

 

[Peregrinus]

Too many years of habit and reflexes to forget, at least for now...

 

Already been working/typing here 14 hours a day for 4 months now ......My extended family tells me to slow down. closing a big (at least for my firm) deal Tuesday.

 

Btw, I'm out for tonight till Sunday afternoon my time (CET). So, behave, gals and guys.

 

Good luck and goodnight! 

[Invisible Man]

ditto