I miss my RPG crew. It was my weekly escape from the everyday. We played Star Wars, D&D, but the best game was DragonAge. And I got into it, man. I was Ruby. Dwarven warrior princess. I was Xena, but not a lesbian. I loved Ruby. Still do truth be told. I sometimes replay her awesomeness in my head on long car drives to and from work. I expressed this on Facebook the other day and was asked to share her origin story. So here you go, and yes on considering writing it again, but bigger.
(And I got tired of deleting stuff out halfway through. Sorry.)
You can call me Ruby.
A month ago I would have never thought of camping outdoors, under the stars. I didn't know what out doors was. Nor camping. Or stars. I was born in the rock and thought I would die in the rock. This surface life was never part of my plan. A lot of things that happened weren't in my plan.
I was on the path to be a paragon. The first child of one of the most powerful families in Orzamar, second only to the royal family. Two campaigns in the Deep Roads under my belt. I was planing a new campaign to unite us again with our lost cousins. If i was successful I would rise to a paragon. If i wasn't I would die in the rock a warriors death and my ancestors would welcome me home.
Everything was planned. All supplies were purchased. We would leave after the proving. The proving would be strange for me. This was the first time in years that I would not be fighting, but in my private box watching, hoping to find new talent to take with me into the Deep Roads. I never made it to that box.
>> > The arena is always alive. The air thick with the smoke from cooking fires,
>> > the music of vendors selling their wares. If you know where to look, you can
>> > find anything. I wanted a new sword, something special.
>> >
>> > It needed to be perfect. There should be heft to it, but light enough to be
>> > shielded with one hand. There should be runes inscribed for both fire and
>> > ice. I needed a sword that would inspire victory in my troops and fear in
>> > the Darkspawn. I found the booth with little difficulty, even though
>> > someone of my caste should have no reason to. But this was no errand for a
>> > servant. This had to be done by me.
>> >
>> > The sword was perfect. The price exorbinant, but worth it. I left that
>> > squalid little booth feeling happier than I ever had before. Which is
>> > possibly why i never saw them coming.
>> >
>> > The were seven or eight of them. There may have been more, I'm not sure. I
>> > now four of them were dead when I was finished. Three of them were
>> > castless, but the third was a favored son of a rival house. A note found in
>> > his pocket detailed a plan to kill me to stop the campaign.
>> >
>> > I was devastated to say the least, not because someone wanted me dead, but
>> > because they wanted to stop my plans. I assumed as all people of privledge
>> > do, that my actions would be universally accepted, loved, and lauded as an
>> > advancement for all. If this... truth... was in true what else in my world
>> > was wrong?
>> >
>> > I wandered, bloody, through the arena, my appearance like this, raised not
>> > even one eyebrow. All around me I witnessed, for the first time, the
>> > atrocities that dwarves did to one another. Mostly with little or no
>> > provocation. To my right dwarves sold one another for a few bits of
>> > copper. To my left drunken masses fought to the death. Directly in front
>> > of me members of the royal house were descending upon a castless wretch, set
>> > upon killing her for daring to look upon them.
>> >
>> > To be honest, I dont remember my sword striking the royal son. Its all a
>> > bit hazy. I do remember standing over his body as the life left his eyes. My
>> > new sword was now stained with more blood in one hour than might have
>> > happened in weeks of the Deep Roads. This new, beautiful, sword had no more
>> > meaning for me. I gave it to the castless wretch telling her to learn to
>> > protect herself.
>> >
>> > Without another word I walked out of the arena and through the streets of my
>> > home, liming ever higher until I was at the surface gates of Orzamar. I
>> > had left my people, my family, and my given name.
>> >
>> > And I will never look back.
What do you think?
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