Author's Note: Hello readers! I wouldn't call this my first fanfic, but it is the first one I've posted on this site. So, I should probably call it my first fanfic. = S Ehh... sod it. Just please give me some constructive criticism if you have the time. I'd appreciate it!
Small warning: This Fic contains spoilers. It also contains a tiny bit of borrowed dialogue from Dragon Age Origins: Awakening. I just beat it today and I wanted to take a shot at writing a more fleshed out story for it. I was a bit disappointed about the character development and overall story; it was good, but it didn't quite hold up to the expectations I had for it. Although the characters were slightly memorable, they hardly had the depth of the characters in the first game. And no romances? WHUT?
Anyway, less complaining, more writing... *type type type*
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age Origins or Dragon Age Origins Awakening, all character ownership goes to Bioware and their awesome team of developers. Yes, they are awesome.
Let's get this started...
The clang of sword on sword, the wail of dying men clutching wounds and stubbed limbs, the shriek of darkspawn as they too were struck down – battle was all he heard.
"Amell, you must finish it!" Alistair's cry rang through his ears and he raised his magical sword, Spellweaver, forward to meet the attack. Conjuring a spell for the frozen winters to emanate from his palm, he charged forward and froze two darkspawn into hulks of ice. Spinning and kicking, Amell took the two figures down and continued his dash towards the wounded Archdemon. The shattered fragments of iced darkspawn decorated the floors before him as he came before the great dragon himself. Giving an inhuman battle-cry, Amell lifted his sword and plunged it into the skull of the creature.
Suddenly, as massive fountains of the Archdemon's blood erupted from the killing stab, Amell's body convulsed as he held the sword still embedded in the head of the dragon. Alistair and Morrigan spectated from afar; although they wished that they could assist their leader and companion, they hesitated, for they knew they would be no help.
Alistair's face cringed in horror. "Maker, Amell!" he screamed to his companion. Morrigan said nothing as she observed the situation, alarm imbued into her very stance.
A low-hued ball of light formed over the corpse of the Archdemon and the hilt of Spellweaver. As it grew in size and form, Amell's convulsing grew. A cataclysmic explosion from the Archdemon rocked the tower.
Then, silence and darkness.
*_/\/\/\_*
Amell awoke, not agitated at all by the dream. Though he admitted it was nightmaric the first twenty times– three weeks ago, now it was a part of him; a memory best remembered anyway. He rubbed his eyes and inhaled deeply, attempting to wash the sleep from his body. He rose from the cape he used to cover the ground before him and took in his surroundings – he slept tent-less that night. Forest and cool air greeted him and he stretched as he pressed his eyes shut. Still groggy with sleep, he turned to gather up his things. Under the cape was a round palm-sized stone, one that had given him a sore backside the previous night. The rock had aggravated him through the smallest gap in his plate armor. He complained under his breath before he was interrupted by a voice close by.
"Commander–" Amell turned, startled by the Fereldian accented voice until he remembered his new companion. The woman was dressed in her heavy chainmail armor and helmet, crimson and gleaming; she must have polished it the night before while she was keeping watch.
"Oh... don't scare me like that," Amell shuttered, now fully awake. He turned to face her. "So, how close are we to Vigil's Keep?"
"We are only a few hours' journey to the keep itself, commander," she replied. She pointed towards a towering tree over the canopy of forest. "I'd know that tree anywhere."
Amell, or Warden-Commander Amell, he reminded himself, had received word that he would be moving to take command of the troops at Vigil's Keep, the late Arl Rendon Howe's estate in Amaranthine, north of Ferelden. King Alistair had given the order himself, with the concrete explanation that the Grey Wardens of Ferelden needed to be rebuilt. Vigil's Keep would serve as a base and fortress for the Grey as well as the castle for the new Arl of Amaranthine, whoever that would be. The human mage remembered how much he hated politics and scoffed the subject mentally.
Traveling along with Amell was his guide, Mhairi. The seneschal of Amaranthine had assigned her to him, stating that she was also to be a candidate for the Wardens herself. Still a bit skeptical about her abilities against darkspawn, Amell agreed to evaluate her performance on the way to the Keep.
The Warden and his guide packed up camp quickly for travel, as Amell could smell the oncoming rain. Thick clouds and the loud beating of thunder seemed to usher a downpour and the earth beneath them turned to mush and mud instantly as the rain came down from the sky. Amell frowned and kicked the pebble that had troubled him earlier. And I just cleaned my armor last night…
*_/\/\/\_*
After a few hours of walking through the forest and being pounded by cascading rain, the spires of Vigil's Keep became visible. The forest surrounding them started to become sparser as the green was replaced by the fields of growing wheat. Amell studied the base from afar. It truly was a strategically sound structure, keep towering high, flanked by the mountains themselves. He turned to Mhairi, who wore a smile on her face.
"There it is, Commander. I can't wait to get out of this rain," she commented as she shook her gauntlets, the water sloshing between her fingers and the metal. Amell shook his head and smiled, agreeing with her. They had been traveling for a few days now; though it was spring, the lingering rain and cold weather had made traveling difficult. Soggy rations and wet campgrounds were becoming the usual for the two. Change would be welcomed with open arms.
As Amell and Mhairi advanced down the cobbled road leading to the keep, both gave each other nervous glances. Where were the other Grey Wardens who were to welcome them? Why weren't there any guards posted at the gate? Amell drew his sword and moved forward with caution. Mhairi, noticing her commanding officer's anxiety, did the same.
"What's going on, why are there no Wardens here to greet us?" Mhairi's face was flushed, panic starting to wear away her normally calm composure. She glanced around at the sparse trees surrounding them warily, as if expecting an ambush. Amell tapped her shoulder when she turned around, watching their flank for any potential enemies.
"Look!" Amell pointed his sword toward the gate. Mhairi spun, squinting to see what had caught Amell's attention. "It's a man; he's being chased out of the keep by darkspawn!"
Sure enough, a guard clad in chainmail had broken in a mad dash toward the commander and her, trailed by three darkspawn. Mhairi gasped and started to move forward, beckoning Amell. "Commander, we must help him!"
Amell started his run toward the keep behind Mhairi, muttering words to create wards of protection along the way. The wards would only last a short while, but Amell figured they would suffice for the moment. Upon seeing the newcomers, the darkspawn broke off their pursuit of the man and instead charged the Grey Warden and his guide.
They met steel to steel, Mhairi slashing furiously at the short hurlocks. She swung and parried left and right, showing skill as the darkspawn's axes met only her shield and sword. Holding her shield in front of her, she rammed one of the hurlocks hard onto the stone ground. A crack was heard as his head split on a rock off toward the side of the road and his dark blood spilled onto the walkway. Seeing that his ally's brains were splattered over the sidewalk, the other hurlock growled menacingly and jabbed his own crude blade to stab Mhairi. She brought her sword across her chest to deflect the blow and countered with a reverse slash, cutting the throat of the hurlock. The creature spun to fall face-flat onto the paved road.
Amell nodded in approval and surprise at the guide's skill before unleashing tendrils of lighting from his palms. The third hurlock was caught in the fray, crackling and sizzling on the ground shortly after. The stench of burnt darkspawn flesh filled Amell's nostrils, but he tried to ignore it. He turned to find the Mhairi spinning her sword and impaling the darkspawn sprawled on the floor. Mhairi relaxed and turned toward the commander, blood streaming from her blade due to the rain.
The man, gasping for air and shaking from fear, looked to his saviors. He pointed in awe at Amell. "It's You! The hero of Ferelden! Oh, thank the maker," he exclaimed.
Mhairi frowned at the situation. "Where'd the darkspawn come from?" Mhairi turned to Amell for guidance.
Amell caught her glance and nodded. He turned back to the man. "Tell us where everyone else is, if you can."
"Everyone else? Most are dead, but there are still some trapped inside." The man looked ghastly and he shuddered, whether from the cold rain or the situation, Amell didn't know. He guessed it was a combination of both.
Mhairi shook her head. "That can't be! There were more than a dozen Grey Wardens stationed there when I left! How did they get taken by surprise?"
"They just… came from everywhere it seemed. I-I got out as fast as I could." The man glanced back toward the keep for a split second. "You need to help them, you need to do something!"
Amell nodded. "We will. Run for help, now." Amell pointed down the road, away from the keep.
"Yes sir, I'll see if I can run into any patrols!" The man assented with a nod and salute and dashed off, water splashing beneath his feet.
Mhairi started to pace back and forth, shaking her head as she did so. "Unbelievable, the keep has been overwhelmed! How did the Wardens not sense the darkspawn coming? I don't understand it!" Amell placed his hand on her shoulder to stop her pacing.
"Stay calm. We'll get to the bottom of this."