Bad Gamer is a new series following one woman as she tries to play her way through RPGs as the biggest asshole possible. Mild spoilers for the first few hours of DAI follow. Check out Parts 1-6 here.
After a fitful sleep, I immediately summon the War Council. I need this breach closed now.
We gather at the site of the breach, where so many lost their lives. Where mine began again. Solas commands the Templars to focus on me, to give me their will. I’m not really sure why it’s Solas who has to be here, with such a pivotal part of this process, but that’s more because I don’t like him one bit. There’s a bit of pain as my mark billows. I seal the breach in the sky. It’s done in an instant. Considering how long it took us to get here, how much effort it took, I’m surprised how quickly it’s all over. I’d expected more fanfare. More hardship.
Cassandra helps Emone to her feet. It’s back to Haven for us all, where the merriment has already begun. People dance, music plays, a sense of calm and happiness over everyone in the camp. All except for Emone. Why do I feel so out of sorts? Part of it might be because it is all over. What do I do now? Am I no longer needed? This has all been a giant pain in the butt, but at least for the first time in my life I’ve felt needed. Like I meant something.
Cassandra joins me overlooking the merriment. Aside from a few other rifts, Solas can see no other problems. She mentions that news of my heroism has spread, but I’m feeling kind of cranky about it all being done so I brush her off. Cassandra tells me they still need us. That they will need my guidance and help in the days to come. It’s a lovely gesture, but it only makes me feel a bit guilty for being cranky.
I don’t have long to think about this before bells start ringing. A warning, but of what? Cullen yells that there are soldiers on the way. Whose soldiers? We run for the gates to see what the problem actually is. When we arrive, Cullen tells us there’s a massive army on the way towards us, but they have no banner to show who they stand for. Someone bangs on the gate, yelling to be let in. It’s Dorian from Redcliffe! He warns us that the army is actually an army of Redcliffe Mages. That a woman named Capernia commands them for the Elder One who—it seems—has officially arrived. Bloody Mages! It seems that they did need us after all, but I can’t have been in two places at once. Was there ever a way to avoid all of this?
We defend the Trebuchets, fighting off any soldiers in the advance guard who come our way. The Inquisition soldiers prepare to fire. At the South Side Trebuchet, I take matters into my own hands and start cranking the wheel to prepare the shot. We fire at the mountainside above the approaching army and cause an avalanche. One by one the lights of the army’s torchbearers goes out. We did it! I’m glad to see the back of those idiots. Did they have any idea who they’re dealing with? We just closed a giant-ass breach in the sky!
Our celebrations, however, are once again short lived. A motherfucking dragon appears out of the din of the avalanche and blows up one of the Trebuchets. We run for the safety of Haven’s Chantry building. On the way we pass by several buildings where people are crying out for help, but fuck them in all honesty. There’s a dragon on our tails, and perhaps they should have been out helping to defend the Trebuchets. There were huge fights outside, you cowards. Could have done with your help.
Cullen is at the main gate helping everyone inside. He tells us the Chantry is the best place—that we ought to make them work for our deaths. When we arrive there all is in chaos. Cullen tells us things seem unclear. There’ve been no demands from the attacking forces. Dorian tells us that this is the will of the Elder One. It does what it likes, takes what it likes. The Mages of Redcliffe have been marched here so they can take the Herald. So they can take me. Not sure what the Elder One wants with me—the only thing I can really do is close rifts and breaches. I’m otherwise not that much more interesting or powerful. I’m not about to give myself up, though, so I ask how we stop him. Cullen suggests instead of stopping him, we give the people a chance to escape. We can aim the remaining Trebuchets at the mountains themselves to cause a landslide. Have rocks rain down on the army and hopefully catch the dragon in the process. The people can escape down a hidden pathway Chancellor Roderick was shown in a vision by Andraste, or so he claims. How did this become my job again? I thought I was here to seal rifts and bask in the glory, not fight off a bloody dragon and probably die in the process. I must have been a terrible person in another life to deserve shit like this. I mean, come on. This will be my death. I know it. There’s no way out for me here.
I run to the Trebuchet with the rest of my party. They cover my ass while I turn the wheel to line up the shot. There are so many fighters behind me but I concentrate on the only thing that has the barest glimmer of hope for me getting out of here: blowing up that mountain. I think I hear Grand Enchanter Fiona in the midst of the battle against my party which makes me a little sad. Maybe she ought not to have agreed to side with the Tevinter?
Finally the Trebuchet is ready but we’re out of time. The dragon reappears and blows several people up, sending us caterwauling across the ground. Out of the smoke and fire, a grotesque figure steps into view. He’s one ugly looking fucker: like someone smushed and reshaped parts of his body. Like tumours had overgrown what he might once have been. His dragon snaps its jaws close to my face. Is this how I’m going to die? An evening snack for a dragon? I vaguely hope he’ll snap me in two. Chew me so I don’t have to wait to die in its stomach. What a thought. The Elder One calls off his pet and tells me I’m done pretending to be something I’m not. Done pretending I’m important. Look, you’re the one with the dragon and the most likely brainwashed army and an ugly face. I’m just doing as I’ve been asked. Might as well piss him off before I die, though, and have some fun, so I tell him he’s not scary at all. Not one bit.
He tells me all men have said the same or similar things to shadows in the past, and they’re basically all lying idiots. He demands I kneel and behold what I’ve “pretended to be”. Hah, as if I would a) pretend to be someone as revolting and boring as him or b) knee to him when I’m going to die either way. I’d like to keep some of my pride, thank you very much. I tell him I’ll never yield to him. Corypheus, for that’s his name, tells me he’s here for the anchor—the mark in my hand. The mark immediately blooms to life. He’s pissed I’d interrupted a ritual years in the making, and then used the “anchor” to undo his work. So, that’s what my mark was originally designed to do! On a much larger scale he’s here to demand certainty from the world, to bring order to chaos. Aren’t they always?
He can’t take the anchor from me, no matter how much he tries, so he vows to begin again and find another way to enact his plan. And me? Well, I shall die. At that moment, the flare in the mountain goes up. Cullen and the others have safely escaped! Now’s my only chance. Emone draws a sword to feel the unusual but comforting weight in her hands, insults Corypheus and sends a Trebuchet shot flying toward the mountain. Corypheus and his dragon look on in shock for a moment, and then escape. Emone runs as fast as she can, but the avalanche catches up with her. She goes flying into darkness.
When Emone wakes, it’s to the pain of the mark, the anchor, going off in her hand uncontrollably. I’m in a cavern, somewhere deep underground, but aside from that I’ve no idea where I am. I start walking. What else is there to do? I’m alive, I think, as I crawl out of the cave into a frozen, snow blown tundra. I’m alive! I walk for hours it seems, and I’m so cold, so tired, and so alone. I come across a campfire—it seems recently used. The others have to be close by! I reason I could go anywhere else. Go into hiding, but where would I go? I press on.
Just when I’m thinking of properly giving up, familiar voices exclaim they’ve found me! I wake much later in a makeshift camp to the sound of Cullen and the others bickering. I want them to shut up so I can get some well earned rest but that’s probably not to be. The only thing I’m going to get out of this are more headaches. Mother Giselle tells me that our situation—my situation—is so much more complicated now. That each time the enemy grows larger and complex so too do my actions as Herald. My power and importance seem greater. Fanaticism is the bane of my existence. I move away, unwilling to hear much more of this.
She begins to sing about the oncoming dawn. It’s a beautiful song. All across the camp people look up and start joining in. This feels like a moment. Is this a moment? Apparently so, for the people kneel before me singing. Despite myself, I get goosebumps.
Afterward, Solas asks for a word. This can’t be good. He leads me to a torch in the middle of nowhere. He reveals that the orb Corypheus held onto, the one he tried to use to remove the anchor, my mark, is Elven. No one can know or our people will be blamed for all it is used for. I ask him how he knows all this so quickly. Of course, he’s extremely well read on the subject already just as a total coincidence. Bit convenient, but then again that could be my extreme distrust of him talking once more.
The next morning we walk up the mountain to a settlement, a fort Solas knows of. A place for the Inquisition to grow in relative safety. This is Skyhold, our new home.
“How did we get here?” is the one question that still whirs through my head a few days later. Refugees from all around are making the pilgrimage to Skyhold. To join our cause. More and more people arrive every day. There’s the quiet but constant sense of getting things done all around the fort, and I watch while taking a short walk one day. Cassandra and the others meet me outside in the courtyard. Cassandra pulls me aside for a moment and tells me it is not the anchor which has helped us but my decisions and strength. They want me to make me their leader. Am I the only one who thinks this is a really bad idea? A large group of people stand there watching us as I make my decision (or, rather, a it’s made for me). I don’t want to lead these people. I don’t want their deaths on my hands or make the hard decisions, but it seems I have little choice in the matter, especially with an audience watching on. So not fair.
I take the proffered sword. Feel the weight of it in my hand. Cullen rallies the crowds in cheers, in cries that they will follow me and fight for me. I hold the sword high. It seems the right thing to do, after all. Let’s hope I don’t let them down, or they’ll probably imprison or execute me.
After the awkward ceremony of giving me control over the Inquisition, my war council and I meet in a hall, or at least what looked like a throne room of sorts in another time. They ask me what I want them to do. We need more information obviously. The more we know, the less guesswork and the more likely I’ll survive whatever this has now become. Plus, hopefully this means more bedtime for me! Leliana points out we did discover Corypheus’ next move already at Therinfal Redoubt: the plan to assassinate Empress Celene and send Thedas into chaos!
Varric interrupts our meeting to tell us he’s taken the liberty of reaching out to someone he knows who’ll be able to help us. I’m a bit pissed he’s out there making deals for me, or contacting people without asking us to be honest. He tells me to just trust him though I’m not really sure I can.
Next time we’ll try and find out who this mysterious contact of Varric’s is, and discover more about Corypheus’ plans.
Emma Fissenden is a writer of all trades. When she’s not pushing through her next rewrite, she’s playing too many games and editing fiction at @noblegasqrtly. You can find her on Twitter @efissenden, or check out her other series for TMS, Game Changer.
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