Hi, I've been out of the games for a while and I'm not a native speaker, so please excuse any mistakes! Enjoy


"'Tis not too late, lass."

Briana let go of the hem of her leather rucksack and looked up at the door, where stood her backlit father. She could not read his expression in the dark; not that it mattered anyway. She'd already decided, and it was not her father's place to stop her.

"I certainly won't stay, father. I refuse to be humiliated like this! Paidin can kiss my arse any day. He thinks he's tough shit just cause he's the thane's son, and now the shaman wants to choose him? I'm better off looking for a decent husband in another tribe, one which prizes my gift better."

"Briana O Darragh. If you so decide. Let me meet my grandchildren, should you bear me. Korth guide your feet, and let us meet again."

He retreated, and Briana could hear the door shut, the snow creaking behind his father's weight, then the soft thud of rackets. She covered herself in her fur lined armour, carefully overlapping layer over layer. She tucked the last bundles of herbs in her sack, picked up her staff and opened the door. She was pleased to see that the snow stopped falling overnight, and that the moons shone alongside the sun. The Lady of the Skies was blessing her with winds of spring, even if that would be an overstatement any time of the year in the Frostbacks. She sat right outside her hut, sliding her rackets on. A long day of walking awaited her, one that wasted much of her nighttime thoughts preparing, by analysing paths and possible obstacles. The Fangs forgave no mistakes; in fact, not even the strongest in her tribe went alone down the white slopes that protected Darragh Hold. These men, however, never possessed the gift of magic.

Her tribe was a secluded one; even more so than the other Avvars. Usually, only one or two children per generation bore the gift; and Briana, being a woman, was just taught to control it, never with the intention of letting her become the tribe's shaman. She heard stories of the Circles of Magi, prisons where mages were locked under the so called mercy of the Chantry and the pretences of a false religion, and the thought made her shudder; such a waste just showed how weak-willed the plainsmen were.

She kept on thinking about it while she went uphill then downward, following the hillside buried in fresh snow. She occasionally stopped to build a fire and eat, but she could not settle for long, or else her feet and hands started feeling numb. When the redness of the sun became evident, she stopped and hid in one of the numerous caves that were scattered along the slopes. They thought they were Korth's dimples, a benevolent smile to protect them from the fury of the sky. She traced protective glyphs near the entrance, killed the insects that infested it and went to sleep, conscious that the first day would have been the easiest.

On the fifth day, she reached Haven. She knew it to be a Fereldan settlement, but the dragon that flew over the area until a few years before kept away all Avvars. She looked down to the village, still two or three miles away; the Chantry was standing clear, and she could also spot houses and red tents. Squinting hard, she could also see a black mass, too blurred to define. Could have been tilled soil, or a lake. As she got closer, she worringly understood: that blur was a mass of people. The village couldn't hold more than a hundred souls; what were all those people even doing there? She backed away from the crag, slowly, when something hit the nape of her neck, and she fell to the ground with a thud.


When she woke up, she was in a dungeon. Stone walls and a sharp chill told her she was underground; but she could not discern more in the dimly lit room. She chose to rest again, but was woken by screams.

"Help me!"

She jumped out of bed, hastily, then eavesdropped. She could hear no one, except the woman screaming.

"Keep the sacrifice still."

This voice gave her the chills. It seemed barely human. But as she heard those ominous words, she knew she had to do something. She opened the door, then ran through an empty corridor. Corpses of guards were lying around in pools of blood. Korth, what had she got into? She then reached a tall door, and felt foul magic, so malicious she shuddered. She thrust open the door.

"What's happening here?!"

Then, green light, and a black curtain.


The feeling of dejà-vu was really something. Her eyelids hazily parted, only to reveal a second, cold cell. No windows this time either. Was it really always like this in the plains? As she tried to stand up, she noticed the heavy handcuffs locked to her wrists. Another dejà-vu: the green, flickering light. For a moment, she thought her eyes had been wounded by the light. Then, she realized it came from her left palm. Her first reaction was to try and shake it off, and she felt scared when it won't leave its place. Then, she brought it closer and examined it. It was definitely magic: she felt the Veil pull and twist, small fractures immediately healed then ripped open again. She had never seen anything like it; but the Fade was very familiar to her, and she spent much time there with the spirit that taught her magic. When she tried to recall how she ended up there she hit her nose against nothingness, like an artificial wall was keeping her from her memories. If that had been the work of magic or something else, though, she couldn't say.

The door opened with clinks of metal, and two women came through. She crouched, keeping her heavy handcuffs up near her bosom.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now", one of them hissed. She wore strange, eye-shaped symbols all over her armour.

"The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead", she added, a strain in her voice. "Except for you."

The Conclave? So they had some kind of reunion here. Briana kept silent.

"Explain this", the woman growled, violently tugging at her hand. Her companion stepped from the shadows, stopping her. She had strange, red hair. A bad omen in the Darragh clan. Maybe that's why she's wearing a hood. Then, like a puzzle piece, something moved in her memories.

"I remember running. Things were chasing me, and then... A woman? She reached out to me, but then..." blackness hit her inward eye again. She sighed, frustrated.

"Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the Rift".