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3 Jun 2012

Dragons and Dogmas 1: Sparky’s Tale Begins

Author: Grant | Filed under: News

‘Sup.

 

My name’s Sparky the Great, and it’d do you well to remember that.

 

Yeah, that’s blood on my shirt. My blood, to be exact. How’d it get there, you ask?

 

Kind of a long story.

 

To put it simply, a dragon stomped my peaceful fishing town, ripped out my heart, and ate it. No big. I’m fine. What sucks is what that little event leads to.

 

 

I wake up next to some corpses. They’ve got a few burns on their bodies, but none of them have empty spots in their ribs where a heart should be. Wusses.

 

I prepare to leave and demand a refund from this Comfort Inn from Hell, but as I start walking, I hear this voice call out to me.

 

 

It basically says take whatever I want from this table. Sweet – no arguments here.

 

Eh, it’s better than wearing rags covered in my blood. Plus I get a sword and shield.

 

Turns out the sword and shield are covered in rust, though. Bummer.

 

Anyway, as soon as I gear up with my new-found possessions, the voice chimes in again. It gives me some very disappointing news.

 

As if getting my heart literally torn out of my rib cage and eaten by a giant, winged lizard isn’t enough, me waking up with little more than a headache apparently means I’m some sort of chosen one. I’m “The Arisen” it keep saying, and as such, it’s my duty to slay the dragon who did this to me.

 

Y’know, because that worked out so well for me last time.

 

As cool as it sounds, I’ve heard legends of this “Arisen” dude. He seemed like a nice enough guy from the ancient stories.

 

 His ending wasn’t so nice, though.

 

I keep being told that I’m the real Arisen, and my story won’t end anything like that. I’m pretty sure that’s how his story started, too.

 

Regardless, I can’t help but feel that I should give this wicked scar on my chest a cool story to tell the ladies at the tavern. Me wailing like a pansy about how a dragon took my heart won’t do – they’ve gotta hear about me whipping that dragon’s tail to get it back or something. They’ll go nuts over that. So I pick up my new sword and shield, and prepare to leave my boring fishing town behind.

 

But first, I’m getting that refund one way or another.

 

I didn’t pay to stay here in the first place? I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over my lack of a heartbeat. Maybe you should show some gratitude to the guy who’s gonna solve that dragon problem that’s plagued our existence for generations. Let’s see if any of his other victims have any objections to me swiping a couple apples on my way out of town.

 

Didn’t think so.

 

Despite my totally justified argument, the local shopkeeper doesn’t seem to see things my way, and forces me to pay for a new sword and armor. I let it slide this time, only because the armor I get is so cool.

 

I fail to see how leaving most of my upper body exposed is good for defense, though.

 

She insists I have nothing to worry about, and that it’ll work much better than the shirt I had just stolen-err-received would have. I ultimately decide the intimidation factor of the skull belt-buckle likely outweighs any downsides my naked shoulders might provide, and head for the town’s gate.

 

But this dweeb stops me before I can leave.

 

To Be Continued.