Chapter Text
Foreword - An Author's Apology
Right off the bat, this isn’t my fault.
I was just about to begin my finishing touches on Hard in Hightown 2: Siege Harder , when I received some most troubling news from my publisher. What followed next could only be described as a disappointment beyond belief. Apparently, that impostor Worthy’s miserable, horrendous and outright disgraceful attempt at copying my work with his shit-show Hard in Hightown 3: The Re-Punchening (evidence that this meagre weasel can’t even count correctly), left such a disastrous taste in readers’ mouths that the best decision is to...just wait a bit.
“Don’t worry, my lord,” she said. “Being the Viscount and all won’t exactly get you financially ruined in the meantime.” Ah yes, the very moment a struggling author becomes well-read, in come the excuses. Excuses and more excuses.
“Surely not,” I cried out in horror. “But my readers deserve to be treated with utmost generosity! I will not leave them in the dark like that.” You see, my dear readers? I tried to fight for you until my last breath, but alas, I know when I have to make a strategic retreat.
However, as I was about to make my way back to my gorgeously luxurious halls, she raised her hand in the kind of meaningful way only merchants used before striking the deal of the century.
“But,” she said, stretching the word in an anticipating, dramatic fashion. “The market is currently quite interested in history.”
“History, is that so?” I replied, sensing dread approaching. Ha...dread...oh my…
“A religious organisation from centuries ago, reawakening titans, an ancient Tevinter magister, and the recent return of an elven god”, she said as if speaking to herself. “People want to know what happened to get us all to this point.”
“Well, people do know”, I said, raising an eyebrow. “That’s what history books and Brother Genitivi’s works are here for.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” she said dismissively. “But how well does sand sell in the desert? No. People want something moist, something juicy to quench their thirst.”
“Right...and...my writing is...moist,” I contemplated. Need to use that one at some point.
“And juicy,” she repeated full of enthusiasm, her eyes flaring. “So what if you would sit down in your free time and scribe a new version of the history of Thedas? Doesn’t even have to include every single little detail. Remember, make it juicy.”
“I’m getting thirsty just by listening to you speak,” I said and made a mental note to drop by in the Hanged Man after this. “But, well, as you may know, I’m not exactly a history scholar. I write stories, always have, always will.”
“And that’s what makes it so refreshing! It’s the history of our world but also a story to be engaged by. Do your research and make it entertaining. Don’t tell me you lack connections.” She was right, of course. I certainly don’t lack those, as you all know.
“I’m not sure whether that’s a good idea,” I began but was cut off by a wave of her hand.
“Either this or nothing, for I won’t publish Hard in Hightown 2 for the next two years!”
I sighed. I may be the Viscount now, but in this office, I’m still the struggling and oppressed writer. The history of Thedas it is then. And that is how you’re now holding this in your hands rather than the highly anticipated sequel. I am so sorry.
Maybe she is right. Maybe, after everything that happened in the last few years, a bit of entertainment based on reality is what we need.
Consider the above-mentioned discussion as an indicator of the true accuracy of what you’re about to read. I myself would like to consider it an abridged and, perhaps, slightly embellished edition. But who can tell what the definitive story is? On one day the Maker creates the Veil, the next day it’s a wolf. Take of it what you will.
Let me tell you, my dear readers, the history of our world is an ever-rolling wheel of madness. Sit tight, or lie relaxed, depends on what you’re currently doing. Prepare for things such as mages with too much time and power on their hands, vengeful wolves, dragons that aren’t actually dragons but everyone still calls them that because they look like dragons, giant sentient rocks that make a large part of our population look like bloodsucking predators if perceived from a certain point of view, and much, much more.
The history of Thedas. Holy shit, what a mess.