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Summary:

"We've fallen off the map. Here there be monsters... All hope abandon ye who enter here.

It's us. We're the monsters. Someone really dropped the ball on this one (literally)."

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter Text

This is the ongoing account record chronicle of a Modern Girl in Thedas, although the meaning of that particular phrase won't mean much of anything to whomsoever opens this chest may find this in the future... Should we have one.

Yes, I realize that was rather dramatic. I'm a Bibliophile, a writer. It's what we do. It's with good reason.

I say this here because it feels like a moral duty, being where I am, being who I'm with, that I take this task for my own. As of now I fear that the repercussions we might be too late everything has gone to shit in ways He didn't expect. In ways that I definitely didn't expect.

(Note to self: Find better nom de plume for He Who Shall Not Be Named.)

I'm keeping this journal, well, because I'll forget. Forget the Little Things since there are so many BIG THINGS that need attention. At some point it'll be good to be able to come back and read the day-to-day stuff; all I can hope for is that everyone gets through this, and we get a better ending than what they gave us.

That's the goal. Not the Canon Finale, not what lay in Trespasser. The Golden Ending: Everyone lives just this once - everybody lives, shit gets done, and everyone goes home happy.

Red thinks the idea of a journal is amusing. I agree (I mean, his history with them is a riot in of itself), but I'm betting against myself at keeping this stupid thing up to date. I've had several, it was just a thing you did growing up, especially if you were a girl, but I never kept mine up to date for long term, let alone three years. At NO point did I have to go through the lengths of writing that I am right now. Fuck this Harry Potter quill/ink/book I looted from a dead body, and all that implies. I would kill a man for a ballpoint pen.

But not this one. This was all Red. I think I'm already in over my head.

(No more rhymes now, I mean it.)

We've fallen off the map. Here there be monsters... All hope abandon ye who enter here.

It's us. We're the monsters. Someone really dropped the ball on this one (literally).

Notes:

If anyone has read the Life And Self-Insert Shenanigans of Dante Alighieri and thought to themselves "I wonder how this would look when applied to Dragon Age," look no further. I'm going to have so much fun with this one.

My first DAI fic! I'm so excited!

Granted this won't have the insane amount of weird biblical symbolism (although MANY religions will probably make their way into this story at some point) but the amount of literary appearances that will be made is close enough; not to mention I'm drawing the idea of the journal from another favorite book. The narrative styling is something new that I'm trying out. It is meant to emulate someone writing in real time without the aid of having a font style handy; italics are out, bolds will be rare but still included.

All will be revealed in the next chapter.

Stay tuned!