Collision
Location: Tevinter Imperium, west trails of The Hundred Pillars.
Time: The Dragon Age 9:38, two months after the events of Those Who Speak (8-9 years after the Fifth Blight)
Canon: Alistair is King of Ferelden, sharing the throne with his Queen, Sophia (Sophie) Cousland. Derric Hawke, an apostate mage and Champion of Kirkwall, sided with the mages during the Battle of Kirkwall. -More canon to be filled in as story progresses-
Companions: Alistair-Sten-Isabela-Varric, Sophie(Warden)-Oghren-Gatsby(name given to Mabari)-Sigrun, Hawke-Fenris
Chapter One
"You're sure this is the best approach to Perivantium?" Alistair asked wearily.
The man had been trying his best to maintain his composure as the group traveled along the rough trails. Of course, he had to endure worse before over his years, but it was one the edge of two months' travel through the outskirts of the Tevinter Imperium. With all of the magical energies that seemed to float in the air, his skin had been crawling nearly every second since they landed on the coast.
"Sorry to disappoint, oh King," Varric joked, "but unless you want a magister's staff up your nethers before you can even blink, this is probably the best idea. Right, Rivaini?"
Isabela huffed a laugh, though no one could be particularly certain. The rogue woman was covered in a thick cloak up to her nose, and silently regretting not being better equipped for their recent travel. The Arishok gave her the garment once he noticed her shivering. Though whether it was an act of kindness or simply a way to stop her possible complaints remained to be seen. The cloak continued to drag behind her in the deep snow, leaving a snake-like trail in the fresh powder.
Varric laughed heartily. "You know, I never thought I'd see the day this girl had a problem with weather. For a sea farer, you'd think you've seen everything."
"Oh, I've seen everything," Isabela pulled down the cloak enough to answer. "Doesn't mean I have to like all of it."
"Good point."
"I suppose it's no worse than the Frostbacks," Alistair said thoughtfully, shaking his head to loosen some wet flakes from his blond hair. "Though we were underground for most of that adventure …"
Sten suddenly held up a hand, looking pointedly in front of them. He had been leading the trek without much commentary. Alistair was used to the Qunari's regular intervals of not speaking. He and his other companions did pretty well at filling the void among themselves. His motion to stop was the first any had noticed in some time. Immediately silencing, the others stopped behind the large Arishok. They listened and watched with intensity, trying to notice what he had.
The steady wind muted a lot of the sound for Alistair. Aside from conversations and steady crunching of snow underfoot, he heard nothing out of the ordinary. Sten was always overly-cautious, so maybe he had just heard an animal pass by. A few moments and they would be on their way again …
Sten's hand went to the hilt of his beloved sword Asala. The king of Ferelden reached for his longsword at his waist. Varric already had Bianca straddled in his arms, loaded and ready. Isabela pulled the cloak away silently, bringing her two daggers up to complete her fighting stance.
All of them had heard it at this point. Crunching of snow, not from their movements, a deep voice muttering as the heavy steps headed toward them. The trees ahead kept them from fully seeing the approaching party, but they had to be ready.
A deep bark nearly made Alistair jumped. He had to count it to nerves and slight homesickness, because he could have sworn he recognized that bark.