Dragon's Dogma - Review Diary: "A New Hope"

Arisen’s Log, Gran Soren – Week 1 Post Wake

It is I, the “Arisen.” At least, that’s what people have started calling me, ever since that dreadful day the dragon awoke and swooped down from the skies onto our village. Now here I sit, in the backroom of Gran Soren’s main inn, embarked on an adventure to kill that very demon.

Am I doing the right thing? I don’t really know; my motives are unclear on that front. Everyone around me just started acting like I was the one destined to slay the beast, all because I refused to stand down before it. Now, the entirety of Gransys calls upon me. “Arisen,” they exclaim with a tone of surprise and dignified dread, whenever I pass by.

It has certainly served me though. The people are all too eager to see their woes dealt with and are willing to grant me leeway in many ways. I aid them with their troubles and in return gather the means and experience I need in order to tackle my bestowed arch nemesis. I even stumbled upon a small gathering of loyal followers. They’re soulless Pawns, but they are but all too eager to protect me and that suits me fine. I do wish they were granted more sentience from the Rift whence they came though. Even if they follow my every word, it seems hard for them to comprehend just what my words mean.  Yet, they themselves offer naught but words, incessantly.

Together with these pawns and the help from the Rift we’ve already conquered many fearsome foes, towering over us with their might, but falling to our feet all the same. It’s not an easy task though and many of my companions have felt that hardship with utmost strength. Yet, the invigorating feeling from scaling a humongous beast and clasping for dear life while thrusting a blade in its flesh is nothing short of godlike. I’ve taken down many an abomination now, but each was met with a similar sense of satisfaction, knowing the world is a bit safer and we are better for it.

Yet, as I write this, I’m left with a few things that trouble me, as if something has changed since my second waking. Gransys has lost some of its spark as of late. Certainly, we spend ample time in murky dungeons and decrepit bastions driving out the filth, but there seems naught but this somberness left. It makes my eyes burn with desire for a luster now lost. More so, my movements and that of my comrades seem to be troubled the same, as if our bodies are not our own.  Perhaps it’s my imagination or the result of this trauma, but none of it feels natural anymore.

I’ll soon need to part, as there is little time for these distractions. Though sporadically, our exploits are chronicled and passed on to the populace, most of our time is spent preparing and adjusting to our adventure. It’s not all heroism and glamor. In order to get ahead we need to endlessly rifle through our materials, round up whatever we can and create the most potent items for our next quest. The same holds true for what tactic we’d best apply to the next foe. It seems endless, but it needs to be done if we are to move on.

I can take solace in knowing I’ve already helped countless of people with their needs. I’ve even gained the attention of the authorities and worked with their issues as well. I just wish they wouldn’t send me all across Gransys on foot each time, but who am I to question their ways? I’m just going through the motions as is anyway. The Duke has asked for me by name. Could this be the élan I need to leap towards the dragon most foul?

Time will tell.