Lost in Imaginings

Long ago, the tales say, the people came from across the sea. They brought death and destruction in their wake, blackening the forests and skies with disease and decay, and staining the earth red with the blood of the Yecht Fradí. Only when the clans gathered together in desperation, and beseeched the island for salvation did En On Míl Frichtimen send them the Nadaíg, the Guardians. Only then were the invaders beaten back into the sea.

For most of the clans, the tale ends there. For the Sísaíg Cnámeis, the battle has never ended. Muirin, daughter of Arelwin, knows this better than most — but she doesn’t know just how much her destiny will change with the arrival of the newest strangers from across the sea.

I wanted in on the N7 day fun but there's a good chance I'll completely re-write this for the fourth time so I didn't want to put it on Ao3, because I feel guilty retconning published things. Presenting the first chap of my pirate!Shep AU, very much subject to change XD

***

This year, I'll be trying SlowMoWriMo as described by @the-wip-project. As I'm coming out of major burnout and a Big Huge case of writer's block, I'm starting November with very very small goals: namely, 15 words minimum per day, and, though it seems painfully small, 75 words maximum.

“Hey, Captain?”  The voice spoke through the comm device in her ear, gruff and raspy.

Captain Red Shepard held up a hand, signaling a pause to her sparring partner and first mate.  

“What is it, Riggs?” she asked her helmsman.

“We’re picking up a distress call, from a colony in the Theseus System.”  

“Details?”

“Um…unclear,” Riggs answered in confusion.  That got Red’s attention.  Riggs was a curmudgeon, certainly, but he was a highly competent curmudgeon.  It took a lot to rattle him.

“Alright.  I’ll be up in a minute.”

He grunted his acknowledgment and closed the link.  

“Sorry, Ash,” Red said to her first mate as she picked up a towel to dry her sweaty face.  “Distress call from a Theseus colony.  Seems it has Riggs a bit confused.”

Ashley laughed.  “That alone is worth checking it out.  Shall I meet you at the helm?”

“Please,” Red said, and the younger woman dashed off without further ado.

A few minutes later Red was pacing down the bridge after her, the Singularity purring beneath her feet.  Her boots beat out the staccato rhythm of her stride, signaling her approach to the two people at the helm.

“Took you long enough,” Riggs groused without turning around.  Data flashed across the monitors in front of him.

“I grabbed my coat,” she explained distantly, focused on the information displayed on-screen.  The signal had come from Feros, an Earth Alliance planet that was primarily controlled by a big-name colonial corporation.

Riggs rolled his eyes. He often griped about her tendency toward theatrics.  The elaborate red coat was designed like something an ancient Earth pirate captain would wear, and Red always wore it when she wanted to make an impression. In fact, most of her cramped quarters were taken up by a myriad of clothes, so that she could always look the part.  

“What have we got?” she asked.

He tapped at the screen, pulling up a transcript of the audio transmission.  “This is the message we received.  It’s tagged from an Alliance ship, SSV Normandy, asking for any passing Alliance vessels to be prepared to offer backup if ‘the situation’ escalates.  I assume there was a previous message that we didn’t catch, since nothing seems to suggest what exactly ‘the situation’ is.”

“Seems fairly straightforward,” Red remarked lightly.

“Well, the weird part is next. Someone tried to intercept the outgoing message from the Normandy and recall it.”  He gestured at a matrix of numbers flashing across the screen, but Red opted to take his word for it, rather than puzzle through the techno-babble.

“So someone doesn’t want this Normandy to get reinforcements,” Red mused.  “Curious.  Ash, ready the ground team.”

Ashley saluted smartly, drawing a smile from Red.  The other woman had been raised in an Alliance family, and some habits remained even after they were gone.

Riggs gazed at her shrewdly. “So we’re going in?”

She grinned.  “To satisfy my curiosity, if nothing else.”

~~~

She informed her crew of the facts, such as they were: the Singularity was responding to a distress call regarding unknown but suspicious circumstances, originating from an Alliance ship docked at Zhu’s Hope, a colony sponsored by the ExoGeni corporation.  The ship would remain in orbit, while Red and a small crew would take the shuttle in to investigate.

They were going in regardless, but courtesy dictated they at least send an offer of aid to the Alliance vessel before approaching.  It might prevent them from getting blown out of the sky out of hand, at the very least.

Red situated herself on her throne-like captain’s chair while Riggs opened a video comm link with the Normandy.  She’d already thrown on her armor under the coat, so she’d be ready to move as soon as the call was completed.

A very harried looking pilot appeared on the video feed, wearing a baseball cap and sporting a short beard.  His eyes widened at the sight of Red, dressed in her antiquated coat and seated on her lavish throne.  She smiled slightly.  It was the usual reaction, and one of the reasons why she went to such lengths to project an extravagant image.

Besides, why bother with piracy if you weren’t going to at least treat yourself to some fancy clothes?

The Normandy’s pilot gaped for a moment more, before regaining his senses.  “What the hell?” he said feelingly.  “You’re not Alliance!”

“No, I’m certainly not,” Red replied smoothly, lounging back as if she hadn’t a care in the world.  “But my sensors didn’t pick up any Alliance ships in the area to respond to your distress call, so you’ll have to make do with little old me.  I’m Captain Shepard.  Might I be of assistance?”

The pilot looked exasperated.  “Look, lady, I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think civilian interference is gonna be much help here.  I’ve got freaking zombies trying to get into my ship, and my CO and XO are both with the ground team and incommunicado.  So thanks, but no thanks.”

Red grinned, a feral baring of her teeth with just enough elegance to be truly frightening.  “Unfortunate,” she said.  “But you’ve piqued my interest, so I think we’ll come in anyway.”

The pilot began to splutter indignantly, but Riggs disconnected the link before he could reply.

“Sure you want the shuttle?” the helmsman asked, casually denying the incoming request for another call with the Normandy.

“Yes.  Fighters are tempting, but maneuverability is probably limited inside the docking bay.  Are Ashley and Wrex ready?  And Qiana?”

“And waiting,” Riggs confirmed.

She joined her ground team in the shuttle, Ash greeting her with another salute.  Wrex huffed an evil chuckle when she appeared, slapping her on the back cheerfully.  She braced herself against the krogan’s strength, long accustomed to this kind of affection from him.  Qiana, her asari second mate, sat at the shuttle’s helm.  

“According to her pilot, the Normandy is having some sort of zombie problem,” Red announced.  “Let’s go see what’s going on.  If it’s safe to land, that’s what we’ll do, and if not…well, then.”  She shrugged.  Then they would simply fly around with guns blazing.

“You’re doing it again,” Wrex told her with a chuckle.

“Doing what?”

“Grinning creepily at the thought of battle,” Ashley interjected dryly.  

Wrex protested.  “It’s not creepy!”

“Oh, sorry, it’s just a sign that she’s spent too much time with krogan barbarians,” Ash fired back.

Red smiled tolerantly through their banter, carefully observing through the shuttle’s port window as they slipped into the docking bay.  A small, sleek ship sat at the far dock, and sure enough, a horde of angry people were pounding on her hull, trying to gain access.

“Be ready,” she called to her team as she slid the shuttle’s doors open.  “Wrex, would you get their attention?”

The krogan replied by firing a burst from his assault rifle over the heads of the gathered mob.  They paused in their mindless scrambling and looked up at the shuttle hovering out of reach.  

“Stand down, people,” Red called out.  “Whatever your issue is with that ship, I’m going to ask you to calm down so we can work through it like adults.”

The crowd on the ground responded by charging toward the shuttle, clawing and shrieking as they climbed over one another in their attempts to reach the hovering vessel.

“Or not,” Red muttered, and her team opened fire on the horde.

Some few with strong survival instincts fled out of range, cowering behind crates or scurrying around the walls at the far end of the bay.  Most fell, still shrieking and trying to reach the shuttle even as their bodies bled and collapsed.

After the burst of gunfire and screams of the dying, the silence that returned seemed absolute.

“What the hell was wrong with them?” Ash breathed shakily into the quiet.

Red shouldered her shotgun, frowning.  “Dunno, but ‘zombies’ seems like a pretty apt description.  We can probably land now, but be on your guard.”

At the last second, Síora leapt in front of Muirin, arresting her sprint toward the renaigse.  

“Wait!” the young doneigad exclaimed, spreading her arms wide.  “They are allies!”

Muirin stopped before the Gaís Rad, but kept her blade aimed at the heart of the nearest stranger.  “They are renaigse, Síora.  They cannot be trusted.  You see what their kind did here.”

“No,” Síora argued.  “I brought them here, to act as allies and to prevent this conflict between my mátir and the Lions.  Let them go.”

Lips pinching together, Muirin scowled at the strangers.  “Do not try anything, renaigse,” she instructed, and let her roots slip back into the ground.  

The nearest man straightened his coat and brushed himself off.  He was tall and slim, with fair skin and burnished hair glowing in the afternoon sun.  “I must say, my dear Síora, your clan has not been very welcoming to us thus far.  First your sister, and now this stunning lady.  Another relation of yours?”

“She is kin, but not of my clan,” Síora said.  “She is Sísaíg Cnámeis, a bone-blower from Vígnámrí.  What are you doing here, Muirin?”

“We heard rumors of an impending battle between the Lions and the Gaís Rad.  Ullan seeks an alliance with the renaigse, so he sent me here to observe the conflict between you.”

“Ullan wants to ally with the Lions?” Síora exclaimed.  “After everything they’ve done to our people?”

“I think it is foolish as well, but it is Ullan’s thought that an alliance will benefit our clan.  Besides, you have renaigse whom you claim are allies as well,” Muirin pointed out.

“These are of the Lugeid Blau.  They claim neutrality between the Lions and the Suns.  Matír thought they would be able to call a stop to the violence long enough for an accord to be reached.”

“Muirin, is it?” The lanky man stepped forward, giving her a half-bow.  “Charmed, truly.  My name is Constantin d’Orsay, Prince and now Legate of the Congregation of Merchants here on Teer Fradee.”  He held his hand out before her, hovering just above waist level.  

She eyed the appendage suspiciously and took a small step backward.  “What is a legate?”

He looked mildly confused, and put his hand down slowly.  “A diplomat, an emissary.  It means I have the power to negotiate on behalf of my nation.”

June 8, 2022

Of Gods and Dragons, chapter 45

As I clung spider-like to the side of the mansion, shrouded in darkness, I realized just how much fun Astrid must have had before I became the Listener.  

I wore the black rose-embellished armor from Varric, and tight-fitting gloves to hide any chance glow from the mark on my palm.  A simple black Orlesian mask with a thick veil served to obscure my eyes and hide my mouth and nose, and a cowl covered my hair, which was braided back away from my face.  The only weapon I carried was the dagger I’d traded for a rose petal at the Black Emporium.  I should have felt vulnerable, going into a house full of assassins with only one physical weapon, but I felt exhilarated.  

I entered through the same third-floor window I’d exited my first time here.  The room beyond was deserted, but the glow of candlelight crept beneath the closed door.  I listened intently at that door before cautiously opening it and slipping through.

The hall was dimly lit, only a single sconce burning near the stairwell.  Carefully, I ascended the steps, ears pricked for any sound, determined not to repeat the mishap of my initial visit.  My font of vampiric power was full, and I was ready to embrace invisibility at any time.

All the information Varric dug up agreed on one thing: the Marquis du Borde was most definitely out in the country, and would be for several weeks.  But given the activity at his home, we had our doubts.  If I could find the man, he would be my next target: there was no better way to convince the Assassin’s League that we meant business.  And so I crept to the highest level of the manor, searching for the Marquis’ chambers.  

I missed Wednesday but since I’m trying to be more active...I’ll just post a bit of a WIP now!

Of Gods and Dragons, chapter 45 

(probably a deleted scene)

Solas pursed his lips as they eyed the fortress.  It was massive, even from their distant vantage hidden amidst the sand.  Tiny figures crawled atop the walls: Warden sentinels.  

“Nothing short of trebuchets will breach those walls,” the Iron Bull rumbled, shading his eye with his hand.  “And even those will take time we might not have.”

“The only sure point of entry is the gate,” Blackwall agreed, “and of course that’s where the defense will be the strongest.  I’m afraid a lot of our forces will fall to get us entry.”

“Don’t forget the mages,” Dorian chided lightly, also shading his eyes.  “We are rather helpful when it comes to deflecting attacks, as well as attacking at range.”

“And don’t you forget that if the Wardens are dabbling in blood magic, there will certainly be abominations among them,” Solas said.  “We can only hope that their comrades see reason when their mages begin to become possessed.”

Dorian scowled.  “Haven’t you people ever heard of the optimistic view?  Still, I suppose we can’t truly know what we’re up against until we get some more information.  Though I’m honestly not sure how we can get close enough to learn anything without being seen.  The view from those walls must stretch for miles.”

The Iron Bull grunted, eyes now scanning the dunes surrounding the fortress.  “Might not learn anything, but I can try to get closer.  It’s probably best if I go alone though.  No offense, but you three stand out against all this sand like a sore thumb.”

Dorian turned sharply.  “Don’t be absurd.  You stand out twice as much as we do, simply because you’re twice our size.”

Hey Tumblr!  I’m back in a place (mentally, physically, time-wise, etc) where I’m hoping to write some more, so I’m rejuvenating this blog! With that in mind, I thought I’d post a list of the stories I’ve been working on in the last year or so.

Of Gods and Dragons (AO3)

Your standard (or not?) Dovahkiin in Thedas crossover!  Follow Halldora, end-game level Dohvahkiin, as she mysteriously arrives in Thedas right in time to be blamed for the Breach.  Currently with 44 chapters (117k words), which tell Dora’s tale as she follows game canon (the first few chaps are heavy on in-game dialogue, ngl. Maybe someday, when the story is complete, I’ll rewrite them, but not while it’s unfinished or we’ll never reach the end).  About mid-way through the current chapters, Dora and the Inquisition part ways, and not amicably.  But don’t worry, they’ll join forces again at some point.  Probably.  Maybe.  The only written bits that aren’t currently posted are some disconnected scenes, but I have things planned out for Adamant and up to Halamshiral.  The biggest hurdle is getting over this House of Repose arc where I really went off the rails and wrote myself into a corner.  But I’ll figure it out.  Soon.

**This is my priority, since this story has been ongoing for the longest time.  I want to get back to a consistent update schedule, and maybe, just maybe, finish the damn thing before the end of the year.  Pray for me.

Broken Faith (Questions of Faith Part 1) (AO3)

This is the story of a non-Warden Surana, named Branwen.  Bran was a young apprentice when her dear friend, Lindy Amell, was conscripted into the Grey Wardens.  Broken Faith follows Bran’s trials as her two closest friends leave the Tower in disgrace, as Uldred and his minion’s start a blood-magic fueled coup, and as the Blight comes to Ferelden.  3 chapters with a total of 7k words are posted, out of 30k drafted.  Those 30k are not necessarily in order or connected, so there’s still quite a lot of transitional events to write, as well as most of the post-Uldred events.  Eventually, the plan is to write a whole series around Bran, culminating in her rise to Inquisitor during the events of DA:I.

*Because I’ve already started posting, I would like to establish a schedule for this one as well.  But since it’s not been out as long as OGAD, it will be less frequently updated. 

Lucida (Stelliferous Part 1)

The space pirate! Mass Effect AU no on asked for, exploring what might happen if the Alliance was just a bit slower in responding to the distress call on Mindoir.  Red Shepard has made a name for herself throughout the galaxy: not as an upstanding Alliance Commander with N7 training, but as a pirate who escaped from batarian slavers as a child.  Red will stumble into Saren’s plans throughout the course of ME1, and be a right thorn in Anderson’s side before she accepts her fate as the most unlikely savior of the galaxy. 

Not posted yet, and honestly it’d be super awesome to finish writing at least Part 1 before I do publish.  So far I’ve written nearly 8k. 

The Heart of a Renaigse

A Greedfall AU in which the De Sardet we know and love was never taken to the continent, and Constantin never had his beloved cousin to save him from himself.  They meet when Constantin is assigned Legate of the Congregation on Teer Fradee, a sort of trial-by-fire before his eventual appointment as Governor. 

NEW CHAPTER!!!!