Dragon's Dogma (Epic FanFic)

Prologue - The End at the Beginning

A vast army formed to slay a dragon, the ultimate incarnation of evil. But against such fearsome resistance, the army was crushed.

The people's hopes fell upon a chosen one and with those who followed this gifted soul.

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Thus you tread the path of all true Arisen: To face the dragon.... and learn the real truth.

And there he was, the chosen one, the arisen, about to fulfill his destiny, about to take revenge for the death of his father, about to slay the dragon and take his heart back.

The path is dangerous, the terrain is ragged, rocky and steep. Once a regular mountain, 'twas corrupted after the invasion of demonic creatures. What used to be inhabited by a great civilization now falls in ruins, and has became known as the tainted mountain, the nest of 'the dragon'.

As the arisen passes by the rusty metal cell gate, the only passage to the mountain, he and his pawn is met by a horde of goblins.

Goblins, red skinned hostile creatures that inhabit every corner of the world. Smaller than the average human, they find their strength in numbers, able to use rudimentary tools and weapons. They speak in their own unique language but has learned a smattering of human speech.

'Stupid Human!',

One of the goblins voiced out when he saw the arisen and his pawn. The goblins outnumber the arisen and his pawn, seven against two. The arisen driven by the hunger for revenge wastes no time, easily closing the gap between him and the nearest goblin; in a split second the arisen was able slash the head of the goblin off with his sword. The other goblins stares in horror, unable to move or speak, as the head of their comrade bounces and rolls to their feet. The arisen stands straight, re-sheathing his sword. He turns his head slowly until his fierce eyes land on the goblin leader. The goblins gasp, feeling an aura of dread in the already dead air, feeling their death as it comeths near.

Salde, the arisen's loyal pawn, the pawn molded in the likeness of the arisen's father after he touched a riftstone for the first time; without being noticed found his way on the back of the horde and stabbed the goblin leader from behind. Salde's cinquedea rips through the insides of the goblin. The rest of the horde cowers with some falling on their behind, they are demoralized seeing their leader get killed defenselessly, too quickly. The arisen smirks evilly, bloodlust shines in his hair covered eyes. The arisen prepares himself in an unsheathing stance, knees bent, body leaned ahead and propelled himself forward, rushing in, sheathing his sword in the process, pointing straight forward against the goblin standing in the middle of the fray. The arisen stabs the goblin in the gut, an easy kill. The arisen kicks the dead goblin off his sword and spins himself with blade extended, as he draws a deadly circle slashing and killing the rest of the goblins but one.

Salde pushes the goblin leader off his broad cinquedea, dark red blood spills on the dusty mountain ground; he shakes the blood off his sword with a swift downward slash in the air.

The lone goblin, the smallest of the group, a young one already sent for war, looks around himself; the leader of their pack and his comrades all fallen, bathed in each other's blood. The goblin shuts his eyes close and bows his head, he grips the handle of his spiked wooden mace, almost half his size. Tears fall from his eyes as he reopens them and stares dead straight at the arisen. He knows no chance of winning, but he won't die a coward. Goblins are bred for war, goblins are bred to die fighting. The goblin held his mace up high, chanting battlecries with a shakey voice before charging straight for the arisen. The arisen easily shoves the small goblin with his shield, knocking the latter's weapon off his hand. The goblin falls on his behind, both his hands scrapes hard on the rocky ground. The goblin closes his eyes as the arisen raises his sword, ready to meet his death, ready to meet the maker. Salde, void of any emotions, watches as the arisen stabs the small goblin straight to the throat, beheading the goblin.

The arisen and his pawn bathed in blood stands amidst the slaughter. Thunder roars as droplets of rain starts to fall from the dark grey sky, washing the blood off their surcoats, weapons and armor, washing away their sins. The arisen just stands there, his head down; mix of blood and rain water slides down to his greaves to the dirt. Salde sheaths his sword, turns to his back and speaks..

'This way master!'

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The arisen follows Salde, his expression grim, head down. Walking a path of mud and blood, there is no backing down, no going home, he has to fulfill his destiny, he was chosen, he is to end all of this, he is to end the curse the dragon has brought upon their kingdom. He has killed hundreds of these creatures, he has killed men, he has killed stone giants, he has killed mythical beasts but never did he face anything as big, as fierce, as strong and as intelligent as the dragon.

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The scenery hasn't changed, rocks, boulders, walls of earth is all that can be seen; a few scrubs with small leaves bouncing as it basks from the rain, as if it was prancing its small stems with joy from having touched by water after so long. In a nearly infertile land, it's a miracle how in the smallest ways, life finds a way. The arisen walks slowly, ever aware of his surroundings, noticing the smallest of changes; seeing a small snake slide down a crevasse; a mother crow spanning its wings seemingly covering its nestlings as they aeried upon a protruding rock in the cliff drop by the mountain road. Salde glances back and slows his pace seeing his master's mood has lightened. The rain grows weaker, and as the arisen raises his head to glance back at Salde, his eyes are met by a beam of light. He brushes his drooping dark locks with the back of his hand, as his eyes follow the source of the light. He looks up, all that can be heard are final drops of heavenly tears, as light escapes, passing through the dispersing clouds of grey. For a brief moment, the arisen felt peace, feeling the warmth of the gleam as it comes into contact with his moist skin, a tugging smile escapes his lips, something he hasn't done for a while. Being an arisen, is curse but in some ways it is but a blessing. In that brief moment, he was awarded by the feeling that in the end, everything will turn out to be fine; as all the while, he knew that he has received the gift of guidance.

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