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bettsfic · 3 years

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Hello i hope you are doing well! I was just wondering if you had any advice re: writing kissing/sex/etc scenes effectively without making it sound super clinical and "insert tab x into slot y"? I know there's a balance to be struck between writing out all the physical bits vs what your audience actually needs to get the gist of the scene, and you do it so well in your writing.

sorry for the delay answering this! first i’d like to direct you to @star-sky-earth‘s tips for good sex writing. truly, she is the master of smut, and her breakdown is better than anything i can tell you.

here are some big-picture thoughts i have about sex writing, in no particular order:

recently i’ve been asking myself of the purpose and function of sex scenes. when i started writing, every sex scene de facto had to be pornographic, with the intention of reader arousal. over the last several years i’ve really stepped down from that idea, because most of the time i’m writing sex scenes to

unveil character

increase or release romantic/sexual tension

explore some facet of sexual identity and intimacy.

with that in mind, i haven’t necessarily been artfully describing throbbing cocks or slick folds lately. i’m more interested in the lead-up and consequences of a sexual interaction between characters. i’ve been practicing what i call the gloss-over and fade-to-black, where i either summarize the scene or skip it entirely. it felt a little bit like a self-betrayal the first time i did it, because i always like to read sex scenes even if i’m not reading them as porn. i’ve been playing with a “less is more” approach to sex.

in original writing, particularly literary writing, i think smut can sometimes be a hard sell (see: taking years to publish my short stories, which are all very, uh, porny). i had to practice writing sex as exactly how you put it, insert tab x into slot y. i think there’s something to be said for sex writing that is the opposite of pornographic, but also isn’t cringe, you know? like writing sex that is an honest and loving portrayal of the act. sometimes i think that’s hotter than throbbing cocks and slick folds. by that i mean, keeping the sex scene exactly the same sort of narration as the rest of the story, just another thing that happens in a greater conflict (pwp notwithstanding).

in a romance, sex or the first kiss is the highest-stakes moment. it’s the scene where characters are the most vulnerable. the greatest stakes most stories are capable of are creation and destruction. creation being sex, in either a literal baby-making way, or a metaphorical “creating a relationship together” kind of way. destruction being, of course, death. romances and comedies tend to end in creation; tragedies in destruction. so the first kiss, the first time having sex, and the wedding are all narratively emblematic of one of the greatest possible stakes. death and failure fall at the opposite end of the spectrum.

so, with all that said, i think sex writing very much comes down to the sentence-level construction. here are some smaller-scale thoughts:

in terms of genitalia epithets, personally i’m not fond of any words other than cock, cunt, and clit, with the occasional dick thrown in. i don’t mind other epithets when i read, but i just don’t like them for my own writing. let’s use “cock” as an example. “cock” is a noun, which means it’s either the subject or object of a sentence, which in turn means it’s the thing doing the action or receiving the action (pun, sorry). as the subject, it would be “his cock throbbed.” as the object, it would be, “he touched his cock.” navigating the naming of genitalia is i think one of the hardest (sorry) thing about porn writing. i try to use “cock” et al very sparingly, because when it comes up (sorry) it’s more jarring/surprising. that means i have to construct sentences around nouns which, as you might imagine, is difficult. often, when cock is the object, i’ll refer to it as “himself” instead, which i’m sure has a fancy rhetorical term i can’t think of right now (update: metonym. it’s called a metonym). (and i’m sure some linguist or rhetorician has probably written a whole paper on how problematic it is to refer to genitalia as one’s entire person). for example, “he stroked himself.” out of porn context, you get a very ambiguous image. one can stroke any part of one’s body. however in context, even though it’s not directly stated, we can assume he is, in fact, jerking it.

generally speaking, in non-porn narration, i’m not fond of adjectives. again, i’m speaking to my own style here, and not prescribing it for others. but it’s taken me a lot of time and thinking to figure out how to construct my own writing style and i made the executive decision to use adjectives somewhat minimally (explaining why is probably a separate post). however, when it comes to sex scenes, i let myself use them a lot, as a treat. adjectives can concisely develop and complicate images. “cock” doesn’t tell me much about what image to conjure. “red, swollen cock wet at the tip” tells me a whole lot about what said cock looks like. here, red and swollen are adjectives and “wet at the tip” is an adjectival phrase. developing images is key to an arousing sex scene. imagery establishes physical response without resorting to “it felt good.” there’s nothing wrong with “it felt good” but if you’re trying to get your reader off, “red, swollen cock wet at the tip” is going to do a better job of it.

now to verbs. verbs are my favorite because they neatly package (sorry) action and imagery together. the word “thrust” conjures a different image than “grind.” both, however, push the scene along. once you establish that the fuckening is happening, you don’t really have to do much else. when you watch porn proper, you get however many minutes of said thrusting, and that’s what, for some people, is alluring. however, in writing, you can’t really write that exactly as it happens. it would be “he thrust. he pulled out. he thrust. he pulled out.” and nobody wants to read that. presumably. maybe someone would dig that, idk.

so instead of “he thrust x100″ or whatever, you use verbs to notate changes in the scene. on a big scale, it would involve changing position. on a smaller scale, it might be, colloquially speaking, “hit the spot that made him see stars.” each change, or verb, is usually increasing the tension to lead to the (literal) climax of the scene. the number and scale of the changes dictates the explicitness and pacing of the scene. the bigger the change in a single verb, the less explicit and shorter your scene will be; the smaller the verbs, the longer and more explicit it becomes. for example, “he got undressed” is different than describing an entire paragraph of removing each article of clothing. “she came” is different than describing each wave of orgasm, etc. which you choose depends entirely on, as i mentioned earlier, the purpose and function of the scene.

okay so that’s enough about the nitty gritty of sex writing. i’d be remiss to spend so much time theorizing about sentence-level construction without giving you an activity or exercise as practice. so here’s how you might start out writing a sex scene if you’re totally lost. please note, this is not a rule, or even a guideline. it’s an experiment to help you get words on a page so you can revise it into something better.

try out a paragraph with a sentence of each of the following, in this order:

action: character A does something to character B

reaction: character B reacts (moan, crying out, etc.)

image: dependent on what POV character is seeing, but the point is to pause in the action to describe something

repeat

if you stick to this too closely, you’ll definitely sound clinical, but also if you keep this pattern in mind, at least you’ll get a scene down. when you go to revise, you can move things around, throw in some dialogue, and most importantly, internal narration. internal narration during the sex scene is the key to moving forward whatever the actual plot of the story is (if applicable).

god i hope this makes sense. if it doesn’t, feel free to drop back in and ask for clarification. anyway, happy porning!

#writing advice #Anonymous

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buttsonthebeach · 4 years

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Lost Horizon, Pt. 2

@scharoux is the sweetest and most patient soul for waiting so long for part two of this story - thank you, dear friend, for trusting me with Rhaella and her epic tale!

This long fic picks up almost directly where The Last Game last left off - with Rhaella pregnant and alone in a world where Solas has removed the Veil, despite her attempts to stop him.

My Ko-Fi || My Commissions

Part One of Lost Horizon can be found here

Other pieces about Rhaella I have written include:

1. All Things Green and Growing

2. The Long Road Back

3. The Turning of the Year

3. The Same Kind of Scar (contains explicit content)

4. World Without End (contains explicit content)

5. The Last Game Pt. 1, the Last Game Pt. 2, and the Last Game Pt. 3 (contains explicit content), and the Last Game Pt. 4

Pairing: Rhaella Lavellan x Solas, post-Trespasser

Rating: Teen for violence, references to sex

Warning: Directly referenced character death for a character from DAI, general references to death and destruction

********************************

Merrill and Rhaella’s journey to Skyhold was slow. Isabela’s ship carried them swift and true - that part wasn’t the problem, even if the ship and all the crew seemed haunted, even if Rhaella could feel the absence of a woman she had never met as surely as she could feel the sea breeze - but once they were back on land, and traveling via horseback, her pregnancy proved a problem once more. She felt impossibly huge, her belly as big and round as the horse’s it seemed. Years of practice had made her a good rider, but the extra weight and the shift in her center of balance was even more pronounced now than it had been before, when she had ridden from Skyhold to Jader for her journey to Kirkwall.

The slow going meant she had plenty of time to take in how much had changed since that last journey, when she had been on her way to stop Solas. The burned out villages, and also the rapturous displays of light in the night sky - the dance of spirits thrilled to be free of the Veil. They rarely had to use a campfire for light, in fact. Wisps were drawn to them the way moths used to be. They frequently went to Rhaella’s belly after floating near her head and Merrill’s.

At least you’ll get beauty like this, little one.

Her magic surged towards each and every wisp when they came, but she tamped it down. Solas would know the feel of her magic, even across the distance, as surely as he would know the sound of her voice. They had not been pursued as far as they could tell, by people or by spirits, and she wanted to keep it that way. Merrill had known a draught to keep her from entering the Fade, which was their other means of concealment since they’d left.

“Poor Feynriel,” Merrill said the first time she brewed it. “I wonder what’s become of him in this world. If it makes more sense to him now, or less. Marethari made this for him while he was staying with the clan, and I learned it when we visited once. He was a Dreamer, so a draught like this didn’t always work for him, but it will be good enough for you and I. It feels like a different life to remember those times, when he was one of my biggest worries..”

“It does,” Rhaella said, even if she was only remembering a few weeks ago, when she’d been on this road going in the opposite direction, convinced she could stop the tide of Solas’s power from sweeping through and changing everything.

Sometimes on that long slow journey she lay there and was convinced the baby would never be born. She would be trapped like this forever, huge and waiting, adrift. She wondered how many other pregnant mothers lay awake in Thedas staring at the same moons and feeling the same way. They’d conceived their children in one world, and they would be born into an alien one.

Rhaella was grateful for Merrill’s training as a First, and her involvement in Kirkwall’s alienage since then. She still knew enough about pregnancy and babies to act as a midwife. She seemed less puzzled than the other midwife about the size of Rhaella’s belly, how it was bigger than they were expecting.

“Solas is not a small man,” she said with a shrug. “As long as you feel well, and you can still feel your little one wriggling about in there, I’m not worried.”

Solas is not a small man. The words sent a shiver of memory through Rhaella as she envisioned the days and nights that had led her to this moment. The size and weight of his body, how sheltered it made her feel, how whole. She pushed those thoughts away. She imagined, instead, a son that was as tall as him, who had only his kindness and not his narrowed vision, his pride. A son who reminded her of her own father.

I will love you no matter who you are, she promised anyway, feeling the child move.

The journey grew slower and more difficult as they climbed the mountain paths towards Skyhold. Rhaella struggled to lean far enough forward in the saddle to make her horse comfortable, so they had to walk the steepest parts of it. But, the feeling of being further from civilization, and the giddiness of having evaded Solas for nearly two weeks now, loosened their tongues a little, and Rhaella and Merrill were able to talk more freely. Merrill told stories of Hawke that she had not heard from Varric, and they shared their memories of growing up Dalish, compared notes on the Arlathvhens they had been to, speculated on whether or not they had ever met at one of them. It started to feel a little normal. Almost like Rhaella was back to being Inquisitor, and Merrill was one of her companions.

(It was probably a testament to how upside down things were now that Rhaella could think back to that time with fondness.)

Then they arrived at Skyhold, and all that warmth, all that strength she’d built, drained away.

It was not so much that the building was different. Its ancient stone was largely unchanged. It had weathered the creation of the Veil, after all. It was not even the scorch marks all over the courtyard, or the charred ruins of the stables.

It was the sound of the empty hospital tents flapping in the breeze. Of wooden shutters banging listlessly against stone walls.

It was the total, absolute emptiness of the place that had become her home.

The castle stood, but the people were gone, and the emptiness of that threatened to swallow her whole.

She should have been wise enough to expect this, to know that things would not be as she left them, that she would not return home to rally the people she’d left behind to some sort of unlikely victory. She had not heard from any of her forces in the weeks she’d been in Kirkwall. She’d hoped that was because Solas was intercepting their messages, that against all odds, there was still a home to come back to, a chance to set things right. Still, the blow of the silence struck her as true as any kick or punch ever had.

Then there was a high, hollow sound - a call, almost like that of a bird’s - but bigger, and then louder, like a trumpet, coming from the lower courtyard, and the sudden movement of a big brown blur -

“Thistle!” Rhaella called, and her hart galloped to her, drawing up short when he reached her, and then snuffling her with his warm, soft nose, whining again in his throat. She rested her forehead against his, breathed in the warm, woodsy smell of his hide. She scratched the place behind his ears that always made him stamp his feet with delight.

“Hello, friend,” Merrill said, approaching. “You’re a delight! I haven’t seen a hart like this in a long time.”

“He has been my constant companion for years now. I can’t even tell you how good it feels to see that he is okay.” Rhaella leaned her head against Thistle’s again and took another calming breath. She did not need to jump straight to despair. She had not even gone inside the keep yet. Who knew who else she would find, or what signs would be left behind - maybe everyone had moved somewhere else, or gone out into the world to help make a difference -

She wasn’t sure whether to feel reassured or afraid when the first arrow flew and landed at her feet.

Merrill’s hand flung out instantly, as if to shield her, and Rhaella’s magic crackled beneath her skin, longing to cast a barrier. She had to actively work not to cast the barrier without the Veil in the way, and it made her grind her teeth. Her son kicked wildly in her stomach at the sensation of the caged magic.

“It’s okay,” Rhaella called out when the urge to cast her spell passed. She looked in the direction the arrow had come from - the old tavern. She started in that direction, brushing off Merrill’s arm. “It’s me, it’s Rhaella.”

Another arrow flew, this one passing over her shoulder, so close that Rhaella could hear the pitch-perfect whine as it cleaved the air by her ear. Thistle snorted and stamped behind her, spooked, and Merrill took her staff off her back. The third arrow struck the barrier that Merrill cast, splintering into a shower of wooden shards, but Rhaella had seen where it was headed. Straight for her head.

Then Rhaella saw her, in the upper window of the tavern, leaning out now, bow in hand. Sera.

“Sera!” She called, waving her arms, walking closer. Surely it was an accident. Surely Sera had not actually meant to aim for a killing blow. “Sera, it’s just me.”

“Yes,” Sera said, nocking another arrow, half-drawing back the string. She stepped out onto the roof of the tavern. Her skin was even paler than usual, but her eyes were rimmed as red as the plaidweave armor she wore. “Who the fuck do you think I have been waiting for?”

Rhaella’s heart sank.

“Sera -”

“They’re all dead!” Sera shouted, the tears coming now. “All of them! Every person that mattered to me is gone now. Every person who trusted you to lead us. They all paid the price, and for what? So you could get a good shag with a man who never really loved you? And you didn’t even have to see it, did you, oh high and mighty Inquisitor? No, you got to be somewhere far away when it all came crashing down, all the fire and magic and shite, all the screaming and the dying. But I didn’t get that. I had to be here. I had to see it happen. I had to watch and even when I shut my eyes I had to listen. D’you know what it sounded like when your precious Commander died?”

Cullen.

No, not Cullen.

He was many things - not all of them good - but Rhaella prayed in that moment to the gods she didn’t believe in that Sera was lying.

“D’you know what it was like for him when all that bloody magic came rushing back, after all those years he’d worked to stop taking that Maker forsaken lyrium? I bet you didn’t even think about it when you went rushing back to your arse-wiping Dread Wolf. About how he would fucking scream -”

“Stop!”

Rhaella was aware that Merrill had shouted the word, that Sera was still talking, but the sounds were distant, covered up by a roaring as real as the sound of an ocean storm, of an earthquake. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t even think beyond the roaring sound. It was only the kicking and rolling of her child within her womb that brought her back to the surface.

“You don’t understand,” Merrill was saying. “Rhaella went to Kirkwall to stop him. She tried her best. She never stopped trying. She fought him until the very last moment, but there was nothing anyone could do. He was too strong for anyone but another of his own kind. And Rhaella didn’t stop there. She has been aiding the wounded ever since then, and once she had her first opportunity to flee from Solas, she did. How do you think she ended up here?”

“It doesn’t make a difference,” Sera said, and there was a sudden wave of magical heat rolling off of her, sparks at her fingertips. “Shite!”

She threw down her bow and Rhaella could see the trembling in her fingers. Sera had never wanted this, and now she was cursed with it. Magic.

Rhaella opened her mouth but no words came out. Her chest felt like it was caving in. Like all of Sera’s words had lodged there, true as arrows, true as morning sun.

“Please, believe us,” Merrill was pleading. “Neither of us wanted this. We’re trying to make our way in this world, the same as you.”

Sera shook her head once, viciously, and picked up her bow. She nocked the arrow again and started to draw it back. Rhaella realized that her hands were over her belly, feeling it warm and tight as a drum, but her magic was not seething inside her this time. She was making no real move to defend herself. Merrill grounded herself, started gathering the energy for a barrier. Then Sera lowered her bow.

“Get whatever supplies you need to get somewhere else. And then get gone.” Her eyes bored into Rhaella’s. “If I ever see you again, I will kill you.”

Then she disappeared back into the shadows of the tavern.

Rhaella felt rooted to the ground where she stood. Like she might never move from this spot again.

It was one thing to see the devastation of Kirkwall - a city that was not a part of her, another vein through which her own heart’s blood flowed - it was another to stand here in Skyhold and witness the magnitude of her failure. To hear those words of accusation dropped not from the mouth of a stranger but from a friend.

Cullen.

“Rhaella. Rhaella. Come on, love. I don’t think we want to stay here long.”

Merrill was using the same voice that Rhaella herself used to gentle Thistle when he was spooked. Her hands were on Rhaella’s shoulders, guiding. Their steps towards the keep were slow. Thistle whined, high and loud and mournful. Rhaella wondered what stories he would share of the day the Veil fell, if he could speak.

She tried not to study Skyhold as they walked through it. Tried not to see the blood or the winding patterns of lighting etched into wood and stone, the overturned tables, the shattered glasses. The kitchen was ripped apart but there was still food enough in the storeroom beyond it, and she and Merrill filled their packs with as much of it as they could reasonably carry. Rhaella felt the burden of her pregnancy all over again, how she would need more food than she ever had before on the road.

“Is there anything else you want to get?” Merrill asked when they were done there.

Rhaella nodded, and went wordlessly towards the long staircase that led to her chambers. Merrill did not follow. She was grateful for that.

Her chambers were exactly as she had left them. That was the most eerie part of all. She was not the same woman she was the last time she slept here. Her bedroom should have reflected that. But everything was in its place - each pillow on the bed, each paper on her desk. She picked up her field journal, which she’d left behind in her haste to get to Kirkwall. Then she saw the one thing that was out of place. A letter in an envelope, right in the center of her desk.

Rhaella

It was Cullen’s handwriting.

D’you know what it sounded like when your precious Commander died?

Rhaella tucked the letter quickly into her bag. She couldn’t read it. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Merrill had distributed everything they gathered between Thistle and their other two horses by the time Rhaella returned. After a brief discussion, they agreed that they would keep both horses, using one for supplies and if one of their other mounts got tired.

“So where do we go now?” Merrill asked, her eyes shifting towards the tavern and then back to Rhaella.

“The Emerald Graves,” Rhaella said. “It has plenty of resources, plenty of places to hide, and it isn’t terribly far from here.”

“I have always wanted to see them,” Merrill said. “All those tombs of the elves who came before us, who fought for our people.”

Rhaella half wondered if the tombs had broken open when the Veil fell - if those elves had stepped out to a brave new world where their people had both won and lost.

She cast one glance back at Skyhold as they rode through its gate. The towers and battlements she’d come to know as home. It was lost to her now, like so many things were. Another ghost of her own, standing stark and sad against the blue mountain sky.

She took a deep breath and rode on.

They rode until nightfall, back down the same road they’d taken up the mountain, until Rhaella’s lower back ached so badly that they could not continue. She warmed damp cloths on a stone over the fire that Merrill built and then had Merill place them where it ached. She’d never wished so desperately for a bed in her life as she did in that moment, lying there on her side on the nest of blankets they’d arranged, unable to curl up into a ball or lie on her stomach, anything to relieve the pain.

“Warn me if it gets more intense,” Merrill said. “Sometimes that’s how it goes for women - the start of labor, that is.”

Rhaella felt a surge of panic and joy alike. Would tonight be the night she met her son, the person that made all of this worth it? The reason she continued putting one foot in front of the other on this road that had no real destination yet. At least not one she could see or count on. But the pain in her back did subside eventually. There was a new chill in the air by that point, a wind coming down off the mountains that made them both shiver. Rhaella looked to the saddlebags they’d removed from their pack horse, hoping for another blanket - and spied something familiar sticking out of one of the ones Merrill had packed. Red and fur-lined.

Cullen’s cloak.

She rose, went to it, pulled it out, half-hoping she was wrong. She wasn’t. She’d have known it anywhere, and of course Merrill would not have. She’d just seen something warm that might help them on their journey, and not another dagger aimed directly at Rhaella’s heart.

Merrill was a few paces away, standing watch since they didn’t want to risk setting wards. Rhaella went to her bag and pulled out the letter she’d found on her desk, the tears already rising in her throat, the guilt already swimming in her stomach. She found a tree that she could sit against, looking away from Merrill, and eased herself to the ground, cloak and letter clutched in one hand.

She read.

Rhaella,

I am never going to see you again.

That's the worst part of this. It isn't the pain or the screaming or the uncertainty. It's knowing I will never see your face or hear your voice again.

My hand is shaking. I hope you can read this if you find it. When you find it. I refuse to believe that you did not survive this. You and the baby - you have to survive. I have to believe this was all worth something, and if the two of you are still out there, it was.

You are the most incredible woman I have ever known, Rhaella. Your quiet strength - I know it will see you through. I have watched you move mountains and I know you will move them again and again.

(I hope this all makes sense. I was never good at words, and my hand is shaking, and everything hurts -)

I wish I could be there to see you move those mountains. To see your baby. The baby I thought of as ours no matter what. I understand that what we had was never going to be real. I am at peace with that. I would have given you everything nonetheless, Rhaella. You and the baby deserved that and I would have been whatever you needed me to be. If - if this isn't the end - if I can withstand this - if we are both alive - I will still give you everything. Not because I want you to wake up one day and love me. But because you deserve that as my friend.

Whatever happens - when you find this - I want you to know that I believe in you. I wish I had words good enough to express it. I don't. I believe in you the same way I believe in the Maker and his Bride. Maybe that is the closest I can come to explaining it. I believe in you, and if anyone can stop Solas, it is you.

If I die today, I die with nothing but faith and devotion in my heart. It was how I always wanted to go, Rhaella. It's okay. I am at peace.

Yours always,

Cullen

She was crying before she finished the third paragraph, of course. Deep, wracking sobs that hollowed out her chest, carved up her ribs, scratched up her throat. They were animal sounds. She wasn't sure how long they went on. It seemed there was no beginning or end to her grief as she thought of everything Sera said, how she'd sacrificed everything for a man who never really loved or deserved her. Were they both right? Was that really the source of her weakness? Had there been some final part of her strength locked behind a door with Solas's name written on it, where she hid all the memories that were good? Had that been the strength she would have needed that day in Kirkwall?

Rhaella cried into the folds of Cullen's cloak, her mind a maze of questions with no answers, and grieved.

Solas generally prided himself on being the master of his emotions. Controlling them, subduing them, and, when all else failed, simply hiding them away.

He did not bother hiding his frustration when he returned from his fight with the Evanuris.

He came into his Kirkwall base of operations and threw down the helm he'd been wearing, reveling in the loud sound of metal striking wood as it hit the table. Maybe if he did that over and over again he could drown out the sound of his failure - of half of the Evanuris's forces escaping into eluvians and shattering them as they left. He'd wanted to pull them out, root and stem, to be done with all of this, to focus on what came next - rebuilding, helping those that remained find peace and meaning in the new world he'd made. Helping himself find peace with what he'd done. Finding time to mourn the friends he had lost (sacrificed).

Mending things with Rhaella.

"We have not been able to trace them yet," Abelas said, calm and even, but with a hesitance that Solas noted at once.

"What else?" He barked. He'd tried not to be the kind of Commander who yelled unless it was truly what the situation warranted. Then again, he'd tried a lot of things. And yet here he was again, with nothing but ash and loneliness to show for it.

"Rhaella and Merrill are gone."

Abelas said it swiftly and calmly, with the precision of a surgeon making his first cut.

Solas felt the air leave the room.

He felt his power leach into the vacuum it left behind.

Raw mana, undirected, uncontained, filling up every object and person around him, lighting up the room with a blue glow, filling it with a subtle roar. He felt his advisors shield themselves in barriers, as if he would attack them. Perhaps he would. (He would not.)

Solas took a breath and drew his mana back in.

“When?”

“Not long after you did as far as we can tell,” Abelas said. Another surgeon’s cut.

“Together.”

“Presumably, yes.”

“Where?”

“Unknown. We have not been able to track them via traditional or arcane means, though perhaps you will have greater success with the latter. You know Rhaella better than any of us, after all.”

For a moment, Solas considered letting her go. It would be kinder in the long run. He’d told her that once, when he was a stronger man. But he still had dried blood under his fingernails, the screams of the dying in his ears. He still had unfinished business, and people who would seek to hurt Rhaella and his child.

(The child, the child, the child, he could hardly bring himself to think the word at first but now it was ringing through his mind like a struck bell, an endless echo. He might not get to meet his child if he could not find her, and perhaps that was what he deserved -)

He had to find her to protect her. To tell her one last time that he was sorry. If she went her own way then - if they went their own way then - he would just have to find a way to endure.

Var lath vir suledin, she had said to him the day he took the Anchor and her arm. Perhaps that was when she was a stronger woman. Perhaps he had broken them both.

“We leave for Skyhold at dawn,” he said. He turned on his heel and left. He had enough control, enough composure, not to spill his tears before them. He waited until he was in Rhaella’s room, surrounded by the smell of her, to do that.

He would endure, he told himself over and over again. He would endure. He simply wasn’t sure what it would cost.

#beach writes #beach does commissions #scharoux #rhaella lavellan #rhaella x solas #lost horizon #character death #angst #...like all the angst

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scourgewins · 5 years

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A Fateful Encounter

(Presenting my first fanfiction! Well, not my first fanfiction, but the first I’ve posted on a blog of my own. It’s not related to the Mafia AU (I’m still working on that. Get off my back, Drawing Entity!). Anyway, it’s about how Joey and Henry met for the first time. I remember Drawing Entity and I joked once about how they met, and I decided it was actually a great headcanon, so here you go! I hope you enjoy!)

Fifteen year-old Joey Drew stepped out into the bright sunshine of a Spring afternoon. Taking a deep breath, the young man sighed reverently. The day was still full of potential, despite the long hours he’d spent in school. I think I’ll go home and draw a bit.

It was often Joey’s habit to draw, and sometimes animate, whenever he had free time. Joey already knew that once he was done with the rigmarole of school, he would start a cartoon studio, which had been his lifelong passion ever since he’d first seen an animation. Joey Drew Studios would become one of the greatest companies in the world, outshining all other animation studios. The young artist had absolutely no doubt in his mind that this would all come to pass; he knew he had the skill and the will to make it so. Straightening his bow tie, Joey made his way down the steps leading to the parking lot, excited for the day ahead.

“See you tomorrow, Joey!” someone called.

“You too, pal!” he answered.

“Bye, Joey!”

“Bye!”

Joey turned in the opposite direction from his peers, whistling a merry tune. He had parked a little ways away from the parking lot, having arrived at school a tad late, and therefore all the parking spaces had been taken. But Joey didn’t mind the walk. It was at these times when he was alone that he liked to brainstorm cartoon ideas, characters and plot lines and whatnot.

Joey was considered a popular student, by most everyone in school. He got along with almost everybody, and those who made it clear they didn’t like him, well, he let them ponder over it while nursing a black eye. He had often spoken to his peers of his aspirations of being a cartoonist and studio owner. They had all smiled politely, but it was clear none of them understood his vision. No one ever had. Not even his parents, who supported him in everything else, frowned upon his ambition. They thought it wasn’t a “real job” and told him to, “take his head out of the clouds.” But Joey knew he’d show them all what he could do, one day.

In the meantime, he remained an average teenager; he liked to hang out with his peers, to go to parties, to flirt, and sometimes be a bit rebellious, especially when angered. That very morning he’d had an argument with his parents. It had been a small one, about something that didn’t really matter and is of no consequence to this story. All that matters is that young Joey Drew, mad at his parents as one his age usually is, had decided to take his dad’s car to school.

His family owned two cars, so losing one was not so big a deal. The big deal was that Joey barely knew how to drive. He had never given driving much attention, taking it for granted that someone would always be there to chauffeur him. As it was, he had miraculously made it to school in the morning without hitting anything or anyone. That was about to change.

Arriving at his car, Joey tossed his pack in the back seat, and got behind the wheel, revving the car up. There was another car parked right in front of him, so he knew he’d have to back up to get out.

“Now, let’s see…” Joey murmured to himself, “How do I put the car in reverse?”

Joey was too busy eyeing the stick shift to notice a young man his age approaching. The man stopped on the sidewalk a little away from his car, and looked both ways down the lonely street. He, of course, noticed Joey in the car, but since the car wasn’t moving, and he was a satisfactory distance from it, he didn’t think he had anything to fear from it. So, confidently, the young man stepped out into the street.

“Aw, I’ve got it!” Joey exclaimed. In excitement, he stamped his foot on the pedal, and the car sped backward. Alarmed, Joey slammed his foot on the breaks, but not before he heard a loud thump! behind him, along with a sudden cry.

Feeling a cold sense of dread drop into his stomach, Joey sat for a few moments, staring into space, refusing to look behind him. At last, the initial shock of what had happened dissipated, and Joey found himself frantically throwing open his door and dashing to the back of his car. Please don’t be dead! Please don’t be dead!

Joey saw a young man, familiar to him from school, sit up slowly, groaning and rubbing his head. His pack had spilled open at the impact, and the contents were strewn about, but Joey paid them no heed, only sighing in relief that the man wasn’t dead. Descending to his knees, Joey settled beside him, looking him over to make sure he hadn’t damaged him too much. The man at last realized Joey was beside him, and looked at him with confusion in his brown eyes.

“You hit me with your car.” he said, matter-of-factly.

“That I did.” Joey replied, not knowing what else to say.

The man continued to stare at Joey, “Why did you do that?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Joey explained, “You just appeared out of nowhere!”

“Nowhere?” the man said, the initial shock of the event giving way to anger, “I was yards from you. You’re the one who slammed on the gas pedal and nearly ran me over!”

“That was an accident!” Joey said, defensively, “I didn’t know the car would go that fast!”

“Have you never driven a car before?”

“Well…” Joey looked down at the road sheepishly.

The man’s eyes widened, “You haven’t?”

“Not exactly...”

“Then why the heck are you driving one?”

Joey glared, “I don’t need to answer to you!”

“You hit me with your car.” The man said, fury in his gaze, “Heck yes, you have to a answer to me!”

“Well… I don’t know what to say!” Joey said, hurriedly. Panic was making his usually cool and collected mind shut down, so that all he could do was snap at his victim.

The man glared, “How about, ‘Sorry I hit you with my car’ ?”

“I’m sorry I hit you with my car!” Joey practically shouted.

“Thank you!” the man yelled.

“You’re welcome!”

The two of them sat in silence for a minute or two, letting their emotions calm down. At last, Joey glanced at his peer, who he now recognized as Henry.

“Are you alright?” he asked, gruffly.

Henry looked at Joey for a moment, then back at the ground, “My head hurts. I must have hit it on the pavement. But I should be fine by tomorrow.”

Joey nodded, relieved at that. His gaze wandered from Henry’s face to his pack, and the textbooks and papers that had fallen from it. The ambitious young man’s eyes widened as he beheld tons of drawings, even the makings of animations, drawn on many a piece of paper.

“Did you draw these?” Joey asked, seizing one of the papers, and staring at various drawings of cartoon people.

Henry snatched the paper back, his face reddening. “Yes.”

“They’re amazing!” Joey exclaimed, grabbing another.

This time Henry paused before taking the paper from him, “Do you really think so?”

“Absolutely! I’m an artist myself, and it takes one to know one.” So saying, Joey ran back to his car, and pulled out various drawings from his bag, showing them proudly to Henry. Henry looked at each of them in turn, his face slackening in surprise.

“These are great.” he said.

Joey plopped himself back on the ground beside Henry, eyeing his drawings, “You’ve got real talent, Henry.” Henry looked up at Joey, surprised he knew his name.

“Uh, thanks.” he replied, “You, too.”

“You shouldn’t be so shy about your drawings.” Joey continued, “You should show them off to everyone you meet. That’s what I do.”

Henry nodded, collecting his papers and textbooks, carefully placing them back in his bag, not knowing what to say. Joey smiled at him.

“Have you ever considered being a cartoonist?”

Henry paused, a sheet of papers in his hand, “I’ve given it some thought.”

“You should definitely be one.” Joey urged.

Henry looked at Joey for a second, then seemed to shake himself free of a thought. “It’s not a real job.” he mumbled, putting the remainder of his drawings back.

“Bunk!” Joey cried, “It’s as real a job as running a bank!”

Seeing the skeptical look on his fellow artist’s face, Joey said, with the air of one who has rehearsed this speech countless times, “I myself plan on running a cartoon studio when I am old enough. I will create tons of cartoons, that everyone will love the world over! ‘Joey Drew’ will become a household name, and my creations will be even more famous than Felix the Cat!”

Henry stared silently at Joey, thinking he was a tad unhinged, but still intrigued by what he had said. Henry didn’t much care if his animations reached international fame, but the very idea of drawing and animating for a living was enough to fill him with excitement, and Joey’s inspirational tones were very persuasive. Joey sensed the change in his peer’s perspective, and pressed on.

“Of course, I’d need more than just myself to animate. I’d need a score of animators to make my dream come true. Maybe one day you’ll be working for me, eh? What do you say?”

As crazy as it sounded, there was a certain appeal in it for Henry, but he wasn’t ready to commit himself just yet. After all, he hadn’t even made it through high school. “Maybe.” he said, standing up.

Joey rose as well, “I sure hope so, Henry. Oh, by the way, if you didn’t know, my name’s Joey.”

Henry smiled a little, “I knew that.” Everybody knew Joey.

“Well, this is the first time we’ve properly met, so…” Joey stuck out his hand. Henry looked at it a moment, then took it, and they shook hands firmly. Joey offered to drive Henry home, and Henry stared hard at him, letting him know that he most certainly would not be driving anywhere with him, and Joey seemed to recall the circumstances under which they’d met just now.

“Maybe you shouldn’t drive.” Henry reasoned.

“No, I’ve got the hang of it now, and my house isn’t far.”

Frowning, Henry saw it would be useless to argue, and only said, “Drive slowly.”

“I will.” Joey replied, then looked at him meaningfully, “I’m glad I ran into you, Henry.” Henry didn’t smile at the joke, and Joey only pursed his lips and turned his car on. Henry turned and started walking away, pausing only to say, “See you around, Joey.”

Joey watched as Henry turned the corner, and was lost to his view. He sensed he’d be seeing a lot more of shy-old Henry from now on. Joey pressed the gas pedal lightly and headed home, driving very, very slowly.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #BATIM #Joey Drew #Henry Stein #Writing Entity

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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15 Best Castlevania Monsters and Bosses Ranked

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Few series have been more resilient than Castlevania. The first few games in the franchise were fairly standard 8-bit platformers (albeit with a unique horror vibe), but over time, entries in this series became less linear and more about exploration, eventually helping to inspire a whole new subgenre: “Metroidvania.” While the 3D Castlevania games never quite reached the same heights as those earlier titles, they’re still excellent (maybe even underrated) experiences in their own right.

Regardless of your favorite Castlevania, I think we can all agree that the series has given us some of the coolest enemies around. From new takes on horror icons like Dracula and Frankenstein’s monster, to more original creations like skull towers and flea men, the Castlevania series is filled with monsters and bosses that brilliantly pay homage to this series’ genre roots while establishing a legacy of their own even if they already enjoy one elsewhere.

In honor of the 35th anniversary of the first Castlevania game, here is our look are the absolute best monsters and bosses to come out of this classic series.

15. Zombies – Castlevania

Essentially Castlevania’s equivalent of Super Mario’s goombas, zombies are the very first enemy you meet in the original game. While they don’t pose much threat on their own, but can get incredibly annoying if they manage to gang up on you from all sides.

Zombies have become a series mainstay (they appearing in some form in almost every Castlevania), but their first appearance is arguably still the best. These zombies are just rotting corpses in tattered cloaks with the singular purpose of doing as much damage as possible, and it’s easy to love them for their memorable simplicity.

14. Giant Ape Skeleton- Castlevania 64/Legacy of Darkness

The N64 version of Castlevania remains divisive due to a questionable camera and controls, but there’s no denying that the opening moments are among the most memorable in the series. As either Carrie or Reinhardt approach Dracula’s castle, they approach a large gate and are immediately confronted by a towering skeleton wielding a bone as a club.

Taking place just a few minutes into the game, this is ultimately an easy boss fight that sets the tone for a much more cinematic Castlevania experience than the 2D games that came before. Though giant skeletons have popped up in other Castlevania games, none of those encounters have been nearly as memorable.

13. Medusa- Castlevania: Lament of Innocence

Medusa heads have been a constant annoyance for the Belmonts since the very first Castlevania game, but the series’ spin on the mythical monster doesn’t really take center stage until she appears as a full-on boss in the criminally underrated Lament of Innocence.

Admittedly, this Medusa doesn’t put up much of a fight, but the giant, floating head makes for an especially cool looking battle, especially once the snakes on her head continually lash out and she starts flinging stones at Leon.

12. Bone Pillars- Castlevania (Various)

Bone pillars are another example of how Castlevania games can make simple ideas really cool. Basically just two dinosaur skulls on top of each other that shoot fireballs in opposite directions, bone pillars have evolved with the series over the years, expanding their repertoire of attacks to include giant spike balls and even laser beams.

The pillars rarely prove to be much of a challenge for any Castlevania protagonist, but they’ve become so iconic that it’s hard to imagine a game without them.

11. Cockatrice- Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow

The first few Castlevania games were heavily inspired by classic horror movies, but as the series evolved, Konami dived deeper into folklore from all over the world to find some obscure, yet awesome, legendary creatures. The legend of the cockatrice (a chicken egg hatched by a toad) sounds ridiculous at first, but a couple of encounters make it clear that this giant chicken creature is no joke. The cockatrice’s ability to turn Soma Cruz into a stone statue gets annoying fast.

While the cockatrice makes for a fearsome enemy in Aria of Sorrow, it’s an even better ally in Circle of the Moon where you can summon the beast to pummel enemies with boulders.

10. Julius Belmont- Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow

Aria of Sorrow took a lot of risks with the Castlevania formula by moving the setting to the future (which also meant incorporating modern weapons like handguns) and forgoing the traditional Belmont protagonist for a leading man who may turn out to be the new incarnation of Dracula. It all results in one of the best and most innovative games in the series.

Among one of Aria of Sorrow’s cooler surprises is a boss fight with 21st-century vampire hunter Julius Belmont. Julius’ attacks are exactly what you would expect from a Belmont. He largely focuses on using whip attacks from his trusty Vampire Killer weapon but mixes things up with sub-weapons like axes and holy water. It’s a fun treat for fans to finally see how they’d fare against a legendary vampire hunter after playing as the Belmonts for so long.

9. Satan- Castlevania: Lords of Shadow

When Dracula is usually the main antagonist of the Castlevania series, how do you dream up an even bigger threat for him to face in a game where it turns out that you’ve been playing as Dracula all along? As Dana Carvey’s Church Lady character used to as on SNL, “Could it be Satan?”

The final battle of Lords of Shadow is an epic and challenging one-on-one against the Lord of Lies in a fittingly hellish arena that leads into one of the better recent twists in gaming history. That alone makes it the best 3D Castlevania game to date.

8. Death- Castlevania

Dracula’s number two has been a constant source of frustration for Castlevania players. Seriously, the boss fight against him in the first title might be the most difficult in the entire game, and he’s only slightly easier in many subsequent titles. But hey, it’s death incarnate, so what do you expect?

Death’s appearance has changed little over the years. He’s mostly been portrayed as a scythe-wielding skeleton in a cloak, but he’s also always been a fearsome foe who has even displayed an odd bit of respect toward the Belmonts. That quality alone makes him one of the more unique recurring foes in the mythos.

7. Merman- Castlevania: Symphony of the Night

Mermen don’t make a ton of sense, even in the fantastical world of Castlevania. Why does Dracula always have such a massive sewer in his castle? Could mermen even really live anywhere else? They seem pretty content to only hang out down there, which seems kind of weird, even by Castlevania’s standards.

Anyway, the mermen haven’t changed all that much since their first appearance in the original Castlevania. Since they’re heavily inspired by the iconic design of The Creature From the Black Lagoon, there also hasn’t been much reason to fix what isn’t broken. They remain an iconic enemy in the franchise, mostly known for posing a little more threat than the typical zombie while adding a little bit of variety to the castle setting and probably not smelling that great.

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6. Slogra and Gaibon- Castlevania: Symphony of the Night

For the record, Gaibon is the gargoyle and Slogra is the thing that looks like a pterodactyl’s skin stretched over a human skeleton. They first appeared in Super Castlevania IV as endgame bosses Simon Belmont fought separately, but they teamed up in Symphony of the Night as Alucard’s first real challenge inside Dracula’s castle.

The designs alone are really creative (especially Slogra), and they looked particularly impressive at the dawn of the 32-bit console generation. Of course, graphics have improved quite a bit since then, but it’s still just plain cool to watch Gaibon pick up Slogra and repeatedly try to drop him on Alucard.

5. Legion- Castlevania: Harmony of Dissonance

Castlevania enjoyed something of a resurgence in the 2000s, with a string of excellent portable entries that are still among the best Metroidvanias ever made. Harmony of Dissonance might be one of the weakest of those games due to its unusually low difficulty and NES-quality music, but it did make up for it with some especially impressive visuals.

Appearing in two different forms, Legion looks especially intimidating in Harmony’s brighter graphics engine. The first form is the classic ball of bodies, this time held aloft by six angelic wings, while Legion’s second form is a giant ball covered in a shell of bones. Like most Harmony of Dissonance enemies, Legion doesn’t pose much of a challenge, but it’s especially fun seeing Juste Belmont slowly chip away at the giant creature.

4. Beelzebub- Castlevania: Symphony of the Night

Beelzebub is another Castlevania boss that isn’t necessarily the most challenging, but his unique design earns him a high spot on this list. Like something out of a nightmare, or at least a Hellraiser movie, Beelzebub is a giant rotting corpse hanging by hooks. Incapable of attacking Alucard himself, he instead dispatches waves of buzzing flies that you have to fend off while dismantling him piece by piece.

While most Castlevania monsters are firmly rooted in folklore or classic horror movies, Beelzebub remains an especially impressive example of how the series can sometimes put its own stamp on more modern horror designs.

3. Dragon Zombies- Castlevania: Circle of the Moon

Castlevania did the whole undead dragon thing years before Game of Thrones, and this franchise’s take on that concept was significantly more awesome. Dragon zombies have actually shown up in a few games, but Circle of the Moon ups the ante by throwing a pair of them at you simultaneously. The left dragon spews fireballs at you, while the right spits out balls of electricity.

It’s a real pain of a fight, and when you finally take out one of the dragons, the other one regains a bunch of health by feeding on the corpse of its fallen companion. Years later, this remains one of the best, and most difficult, boss fights in any Castlevania game.

2. Chaos- Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow

The true source of Dracula’s power makes for one of the most graphically interesting boss fights in the franchise. The idea of “Chaos” as an enemy isn’t new in video games, but in Aria of Sorrow, Chaos has two forms. First, Soma fights it as three demonic statues circle around the screen. When they go down, Chaos reveals itself as a simple black orb defended by four projectile shooting eyes and a massive skeletal dragon. It’s a nonstop kaleidoscopic feast for the eyes that resembles, well…chaos.

Aria of Sorrow is arguably the one other Metroidvania that comes closest to matching (or even exceeding) the greatness of Symphony of the Night, and a lot of that is due to its fantastic creature design. This incredible design contributes to Chaos’ status as one of the best boss battles in the series. Still, Chaos isn’t the greatest threat the Belmonts and company have faced…

1. True Dracula- Castlevania: Portrait of Ruin

Of course, Dracula had to be number one on the list. The eternal quest to slay him is the entire reason the Castlevania series exists. Which Dracula to pick, though? After all, there have been a lot of great final confrontations with the head bloodsucker over the years. For a lot of gamers, the final battle in Super Castlevania IV is especially iconic, but it also doesn’t hold many surprises.

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In Portrait of Ruin, Dracula first mixes things up by attacking with Death at his side. That’s pretty neat on its own, but after you’ve seemingly dealt with both of them, they merge into True Dracula: a giant demonic bat creature that fights with heavy stomps and screen-filling attacks. Just the design alone is way more impressive than the typical tall, pale guy in a cape. You have to pull out all the stops to beat True Dracula, making for what’s easily the best and most epic encounter in the entire franchise.

The post 15 Best Castlevania Monsters and Bosses Ranked appeared first on Den of Geek.

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ciathyzareposts · 4 years

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Realms of Arkania: Blade of Destiny: Summary and Rating

Realms of Arkania: Blade of Destiny

Germany

Released in Germany as Das Schwarze Auge: Die Schicksalsklinge

attic Entertainment Software (developer); Fantasy Productions (German publisher); Sir-Tech (U.S. Publisher)

Released 1992 for DOS, 1993 for Amiga

Date Started: 13 November 2019

Date Ended: 7 February 2020

Total Hours: 38

Difficulty: Moderate-Hard (3.5/5)

Final Rating: (To come later)

Ranking at Time of Posting: (To come later)

Summary:

First in a lineage based on the German tabletop RPG Das Schwarze Auge, Blade of Destiny is a gem waiting to be cut and polished. A party of six, comprising familiar races but original classes, stops a horde of orcs from razing the city of Thorwal by finding a legendary sword that defeated the orcs in the past. In an effort to offer a computer game that adhered closely to tabletop rules and gaming style, Blade perhaps errs too much towards obtuse statistics, lengthy character creation and leveling, myriad spells, and exhausting tactical combat. Yet the developers managed to create a large, open game world and populate it with interesting encounters of a variety of length and difficulty, thus feeling a lot like a series of tabletop modules. Nothing in the game–first-person exploration (in Bard’s Tale style, but with an interface drawn from Might and Magic III), paper-doll inventories (looking a lot like Eye of the Beholder), axonometric combat (clearly inspired by SSI), dozens of skills and spell skills–works badly, but almost every part of the game needed a little tweaking, editing, or tightening. I enjoyed it more as I became more familiar with its conventions, and it left me looking forward to its next installment.

****

I grew to enjoy Blade of Destiny more as the hour grew later (the opposite of what usually happens), although the game never really did manage to solve some of its early weaknesses. In the end, I’m struck at how much it reminds me of Pool of Radiance, the first attempt at a serious adaptation of another tabletop system. Both feature the standard party of six. In neither game do the party members have a direct, personal connection to the main quest. In both, the main quest is somewhat low-key–the fate of a city versus the fate of the world. Both keep character leveling in the single digits, and both err towards keeping faith with their tabletop roots, even when it might have been best for the computer game to improvise a bit.

I don’t know whether to blame Das Schwarze Auge or the computer game for my chief complaints, most of which can be rolled up into three words: combat is exhausting. Combat is a major part of any RPG, so you don’t want your players doing things like reloading to avoid it, which I did a lot. I abandoned entire dungeons because I was sick of all the fighting, so it’s a good thing I didn’t need an extra character level to win. The primary issues are:

The axonometric perspective doesn’t work well for combat. It’s hard to separate the characters and enemies from each other and particularly hard to move to a specific tile.

Everyone misses too often.

Attacks don’t cause enough damage.

Spells, which would make the whole thing go faster, eat up so many magic points that you can rarely cast more than three or four before needing multiple nights’ rest to recharge.

In light of these things, the “quick combat” system was a good idea. Unfortunately, combat is hard enough (at least until the end) that you can’t really use it until there are only a couple enemies left. Even then, quick combat isn’t really “quick.” (To be fair, I guess they don’t call it that; it’s something like “Computer Fight.”) You still have to watch the computer take all the actions and monitor your characters’ status. It just means you can watch a television show at the same time.

If you can make out individual characters in those blobs, your eyesight is better than mine.

The spell issue had more consequences than just a difficult combat experience. The developers took the time to put several dozen spells into the game, and I never used more than about 5 of them. I kept meaning to find a good place to save near a known combat and then just keep reloading and experimenting, but I never identified an ideal position for this. Most of them would have failed anyway because the nature of the spell skill system means that you can’t possibly specialize in more than half a dozen. When I play the sequel, it will absolutely be my priority to more fully investigate the spell catalog.

I had a few lingering questions after the last entry, such as what happens if you try to kill the orc champion with a weapon other than Grimring, and what happens if you don’t honor the rule that only your champion fights. Unfortunately, the final save prompted me to overwrite the save game I’d take just before the battle. My next-most recent save was from before exploring the orc caves and getting the message that led to the endgame. I’m not willing to do all of that again, so we’ll have to leave it a mystery unless someone has some experience with it. But I was able to check out the alternate “bad” ending, which I would have experienced had I lingered for extra year in the quest. As I typed the rest of this entry, I had my party sleep at the inn for batches of 99 days until the game work me up with the fateful message:

So the orcs are the “Vikings” of this setting.

Overall, I felt that the time constraint was generous enough that it wouldn’t have impacted my approach even if I’d been more eager to explore every trail and sea lane. This is a good thing because there was quite a bit more to find. I took a look at a cluebook for the game, and among entire dungeons that I overlooked were a “wolf’s lair” between Ottarje and Orvil, a six-level “ship of the dead” that I would have found if I’d taken more boat trips, and a three-level “dragon’s hoard” on Runin Island. This latter location sounds like it would have been especially lucrative, with an option to do a side quest for the dragon and receive four magic items as a reward.

But I’ve always been fine with missing content. It’s practically necessary in modern games, let you exhaust yourself before the end. It also enhances a game’s replayability. It’s nice to see the number of titles with such optional content growing.

Let’s give it the ol’ GIMLET:

1. Game World. I didn’t find the Nordic setting terribly original, but I enjoyed it just the same. The backstory is set up well, and as previously mentioned, I liked the low-key nature of the main plot. The main quest did a good job encouraging nonlinear exploration of the large world. The problem is that the game itself doesn’t quite deliver on the backstory (or the tabletop setting in general). The various cities and towns are too interchangeable, the NPCs too bland. Score: 5.

2. Character Creation and Development. Well, I can’t complain that it doesn’t give you enough options. The leveling-up process in Blade of Destiny is probably the longest in any game to date. Not just longest, but most frustrating, with the caps on the number of times you can increase a particular skill per level (even if you neglected it in the early levels) and frequent failures as you try to increase. The caps in particular make it feel like the characters are never really getting stronger or better. (I think the final battle could be won by a Level 1 character.) Hit points and spell points, in particular, are almost imperceptibly slow to increase.

No, not now! I have an appointment in 90 minutes!

Still, I like the nature of character classes in the setting, including the use of “negative attributes” and the plethora of skills. I just wish I had a clearer sense of what skills, attributes, and negative attributes came into play in what circumstances, which bits of equipment compensated for them, and so on. The game text is obtuse enough that sometimes it’s not even clear whether you succeeded or failed. When it is, it’s almost always because you failed. Honestly, how high do I need to jack up my “Treat Wounds” skill before it has a greater than 50% chance of not making the character worse?

Back on the positive side, I think different party compositions would make a considerable difference in gameplay. I think you could have fun with some interesting combinations, like an all-dwarf party or an all-magician party. It’s just too bad the different race/class templates didn’t have more role-playing implications. Score: 5.

3. NPC Interaction. This was a really wasted area of the game. The developers give you the ability to talk to ever bartender, innkeeper, smith, and cashier, but most of the dialogue is stupid when it isn’t confusing. I’d blame the translation, but my German readers report that it was stupid and confusing even in German. The few dialogue options are either false options that lead to the same outcome or confusing ones with counter-intuitive results (e.g., asking to see the map makes the NPC give it to you; asking for the map makes him just show it to you). That said, you occasionally get an important hint from your various NPC interactions. I just wish it had been more consistent and that the developers had used the system to give more blood to the game world. Score: 4.

This conversation made no sense as a whole, and these individual responses made no sense in detail.

4. Encounters and Foes. The game shines, though sometimes with a marred finish, in this area. I really enjoyed the variety of encounters, some fixed, some random, that the party gets on the road and as it explores dungeons and towns. I like that some of them are a single screen, resolved instantly, and others lead you off on a multi-hour digression. I contrast to the dialogue, the text of these special encounters is usually evocative and interesting, and I can even forgive the occasional shaggy dog joke like the “wyvern” encounter. I just wish for a few more role-playing options in these encounters.

These diversions and side areas never stopped being fun.

Foes were mostly high-fantasy standards with similar strengths and weaknesses that we’ve seen in a thousand RPGs but at least they appeared in appropriate contexts. We’ve come a long way from the days when we were inexplicably attacked by parties of 6 orcs, 3 trolls, 2 magicians, and a griffon right in the middle of town. Score: 6.

5. Magic and Combat. Very mixed. I like the combat options, the variety of spells, and the turn-based mechanics. I just didn’t like the execution, which was partly due to interface and partly due to the game rules. Either way, combat was generally a tedious, annoying process rather than the joyful one I typically find in, say, a Gold Box game. As for spells, the game really needs some in-game help to assist with them, perhaps annotating the spells in which each class is supposed to specialize. Every spellcasting session and every level-up was a long process of flipping through the manual. It’s too bad because the spells are so varied and interesting on paper. Score: 4.

I only ever tried about 6 of these spells, which coincidentally is the number of spells I got above 0 in my ability to cast after 5 levels.

6. Equipment. Another disappointment. I like the approach to equipment, with a number of slots, but you get upgrades rarely and it’s extremely hard to identify them when you do. This is something that perhaps no game has done very well up to this point. I don’t mind if it’s hard to identify a piece of equipment–if you need a special skill, or spell, or money, or whatever–but I mind if it’s annoying. I mind if I have to swap the item around to multiple characters to try different things, especially when the interface makes swapping annoying and time-consuming. I mind when there’s no symbol, color, or other mechanism to distinguish weapons and armor with different values.

Blade offers perhaps the largest variety of “adventure” equipment that we’ve seen so far, which makes it all the more frustrating that either so much of it is useless, or the game doesn’t bother to tell you when a piece of equipment has saved the day. Finally the encumbrance system is geared towards making most characters chronically over-encumbered. The ability to make potions is nice, but again the system is a little too complicated. Score: 4.

7. Economy. Blade almost perfectly emulates the Gold Box series here: money is plentiful from the first dungeon and you hardly have any reason to spend it. My party ended the game with well over 1,000 ducats. Even potions don’t serve as a good “money sink” because they don’t stack and you have the constant encumbrance issue. A rack of +1 weapons, the ability to pay to recharge spell points, or temple blessings that actually did something all would have been nice. Score: 3.

I just donated 999 crowns!

8. Quests. Generally positive. Blade is one of the few games of the era to understand side quests, and they sit alongside an interesting-enough main quest with multiple stages. It just needed a few more choices and alternate endings. Score: 5.

9. Graphics, Sound, and Interface. I know that some readers will defend the game here, but I found all three to be somewhat horrid. Graphics are perhaps the least so. Some of the cut scenes are nice. Regular exploration graphics aren’t bad, but the inability to distinguish stores from regular houses is almost unforgivable. Combat graphics are a confusing mess from the axonometric perspective. Any virtues the sound effects may otherwise have are obscured by the jarring three-note cacophony that accompanies opening any menu. And there’s no excuse for the interface, which occasionally gives some nods to the keyboard but really wants you to use the mouse throughout.

Aside from my usual complaints about mouse-driven interfaces, the game is full of all kinds of little annoyances. When you find or purchase a piece of equipment, it always goes to the first character. You’ve got to then go in and redistribute it. It’s annoying to transfer equipment between characters, especially if one is over-encumbered. Messages often time out before you’re done reading them, or pop up so quickly that you don’t have time to read them before you accidentally hit the next movement key, making them disappear. There’s a lot of inconsistency, particularly in dungeons, about when you need a contextual menu and when you need to use the buttons on the main interface. There are dozens of other things like this. The developers took the appearance of the Might and Magic III interface but none of its underlying grace.

The auto-map didn’t suck. I’ll give it that. Score: 2.

10. Gameplay. We can end on a positive note. This is one of the few open-world games of the era, and in between the opening screen and closing combat, it’s almost entirely non-linear. The many things that a first-time player doesn’t find makes it inherently replayable. And the length and difficulty are just about perfect for the era. I particularly love that you have to lose experience points to save (except at temples), which discourages save-scumming. Score: 8.

This NPC seems to think he’s living hundreds of years in the past.

That gives us a subtotal final score of 46, a respectable total that would put it in the top 15% of games so far. But I’m going to administratively remove 2 more points for an issue that really isn’t covered by my GIMLET: a lack of editing that created unnecessary confusion at numerous points in the game. There are numerous places that go unused, such as the tower and “Ottaskins” in Thorwal. NPCs frequently tell you things in dialogue that aren’t true. There are numerous false leads on the map quest, and I don’t think they’re there to challenge you–I think the developers changed things and didn’t update the dialogue. All of the NPCs in Phexcaer were clearly written for an earlier game in which the nature of the backstory and quest were quite different. It’s common now, but relatively uncommon back then, to find a game released in what was clearly it’s “beta” stage.

So that gives us a final score of 44, which still puts the game in the top 15%. It had a lot of promise, and I’m sorry that the developers didn’t find more time to tweak and tighten it.

This is not the sort of game for which you really want to emphasize “conversation.”

Blade of Destiny wasn’t released in the United States until 1993, so Scorpia didn’t take it on until the October 1993 issue of Computer Gaming World. It’s one of her more ornery reviews. After saying that the English translation of Das Schwarze Auge, “The Black Eye,” “might be appropriate,” she goes on to spoil the entire plot in the next paragraph, including the one-on-one combat at the end. She found the plot unoriginal and wasted three days trying to figure out how to find the orc cave, noting that there are no clues to be found anywhere. (Remember: I had to use a walkthrough for this.) She hated the failures when trying to level up, complaining that one of her fighters “made no advance in swords on two successive level gains.” She noted a lot of discrepancies between the manual and actual gameplay, particularly in the area of spells, and she agrees with me that combat is a “tedious, frustrating, boring, long-drawn-out affair.”

She liked the automap, the ability to reload in the middle of combat, and the extra experience you get the first time you face a particular monster. That was about it. I was surprised to see how much she hated the experience cost for saving. She says she wouldn’t have minded if the creators had awarded a bonus for not saving, apparently seeing a difference there that I don’t.

But her worst vitriol was for a bug that I didn’t experience: apparently, if you quit in the middle of the final battle, you get the victory screen anyway. “This is not just a scam; it is the Grand Canyon of scams,” she sputters. “How did the 20+ playtesters manage to miss this one? If they didn’t miss it, why wasn’t it fixed?” In summary:

Those who worship at the mythical altar of Realism often end up sacrificing fun and playability on it. That is what happened with Blade of Destiny. In their attempt to make the game “like real life” (something few players want in the first place) the designers went overboard in the wrong direction more than once. I would not recommend Arkania to any game player, but I do recommend it to game designers as an example of what to avoid in their own products. Let us all hope we don’t see another one like this any time soon.

Ouch. I don’t disagree with the elements she didn’t like, but I found more that I did like.

On the continent, the game had polarized reviews. Some thought that the designers went overboard in the right direction, or perhaps didn’t go overboard, or perhaps only did it once. Whatever the case, the ASM reviewer (92/100) said that he’d “rarely seen a perfect implementation of an RPG that also remains really playable on the computer.” PC Joker (90/100) said that it is “only surpassed by Ultima, leaving the rest of the genre competition far behind in terms of freedom of action and complexity.” But not all German reviews were positive. PC Player (48/100) recommended that players “close your eyes, put the lid on, and wait for Star Trail.”

(At least there were some positives in the reviews for the original game. A 2013 remake by German-based Crafty Studios came out to almost universally negative reviews despite improved graphics, voiced dialogue, and other trappings of the modern era. It was apparently quite unforgivably bugged. Crafty went on to remake Star Trail in 2017.)

Combat in the remake. At least you can identify the squares a bit easier.

The original game sold well despite a few bad reviews and certainly justified the two sequels, Realms of Arkania: Star Trail (1994) and Realms of Arkania: Shadows over Riva (1996). Together, the trilogy established the viability of Das Schwarze Auge setting, which continues to produce RPGs into the modern era, including The Dark Eye: Drakensang (2008), Deminicon (2013), and Blackguards (2014). Lead developer Guido Henkel would eventually tire of the setting, quit attic, move to the United States, join Black Isle studios, and produce Planescape: Torment.

I haven’t attempted to reach out to Henkel, as his work on the Arkania series has been well-documented elsewhere. In his 2012 RPG Codex interview, he explains that the publisher of attic’s Spirit of Adventure, StarByte, originally approached the company about creating a series based on Das Schwarze Auge, claiming they already had the rights. The attic personnel were reluctant to work with StarByte after a dreadful Spirit experience (“a horribly crooked company that cheated us and all of its other developers”), so they were delighted to find that the company had been lying about the license. attic managed to get it for themselves, although at such an expense that the three Arkania games barely made a profit despite selling well.

From a 1992 perspective, I would call Blade of Destiny “a good start.” I look forward to seeing how things change in the sequels.

*****

B.A.T. II will be coming up next. For the next title on the “upcoming” list, we reach back to 1981 for Quest for Power, later renamed King Arthur’s Heir. Come to think of it, the Crystalware titles are so similar and quick that I might try to cover Quest for Power and Sands of Mars in a single session so I can be done with 1981 entirely. Again.

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/realms-of-arkania-blade-of-destiny-summary-and-rating/

#retro games #dos games #retro #crpg #adventure #amiga #oldcomputers #8bit #16bit #blog #repost

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