Ash, bitter and dry on his tongue, an annoyance to his nose, filled the once clear air of Lothering: his home. Hawke refused to look skyward, couldn't even if he wished it as the Darkspawn, twisted and marred beings were before him. Their hisses and blood thirst kept him far too distracted. He had to be strong, his mother, his brother and his sister were looking to him.
"Wait- I can't go on, I need-" His mother bent over panting for breath, she was not the spry youth she had once been that had ran away with an Appostate.
Bethany supported her mother, pushing her up straight and letting her rest against her while Carver and Hawke guarded them. "We can't just stay here, mother we have to go."
"Where? It's not like we have an abundance of money and friends to turn to." Bethany scoffed, "Where were you anyway?"
"Ostagar, doing something worthwhile!" Carver snapped.
Bethany shook her head and looked to her elder brother, "We can't just wander, Brother. We need some destination."
Hawke grit his teeth, pacing forward as he heard the Darkspawn ahead, behind, all damn sides of them, gnawing and hissing, the damn hissing. "Redcliff isn't far, if we can make it to the Hinterlands, it has rams, we could hunt and find lodging- or do work and find a Merchant headed to Denerim."
Carver laughed, it was a strangled fearful sound. "Do you think that will be far enough? I was at Ostagar- we need to get out of Fereldan, those things will swallow us all. They killed the Gray-wardens. Maker." Carver shivered at the memory, gripping his sword tighter.
Hawke snapped, growling in rage, yes Carver had gone to Ostgar, had left the farm, left mother in tears and Bethany terrified. He had been left to tend the farm, to support them all while his little brother skipped away selfishly. "Fine, you have a better idea go right ahead!" Hawke snapped letting his rage burn a wall of protective fire. The Darkspawn that had caught up with them unable to cross the flames.
"Kirkwall."
"What?" Hawke asked unable to control the annoyance still in his voice from dealing with his little brother. He looked to his mother.
"Kirkwall." Leandra repeated, "We have family there."
"There are a lot of Templars in Kirkwall mother." Bethany reminded wearily as they started forward, her staff at the ready.
Carver scoffed, "There's Templars everywhere."
"Carver." Hawke growled in warning, "It will still mean getting North to Amaranthian, let's make sure we live long enough to see it." He tried not to think about the faces of the people he had grown up with, the old woman that had once tended to the scrape on his brother's elbow, how her face was contorted and her screams never ending as the Darkspawn pulled her into their masses. Mavus the cow farmer who had just taken over for his father. How he had refused to leave the land, how he had stood there, starving and savagely protecting his land while refusing to listen to reason. How the Darkspawn had gutted him and defiled him. Hawke refused to let that be his family, he refused to stop running. His bladed staff turned in his palms as the Darkspawn appeared over the scorched hill. He didn't stop, his movement fluid and strong as he raced up with the blade, it was a split second of aiming, using the length of his staff he made sure to keep a distance from those wicked blades the Gray beast was holding. The tip off his own bade sunk into the old leather the creature wore. With his weight and strength built up from his life as a farm boy Hawke drove forward, lifting the creature and swinging it around and into it's comrade. It was just like cleaning out the stables, sinking his weight onto the staff, using his muscle to lift then twist.
Years he had grumbled about the work, how he had lost that boyish lean muscle of a youth in in turn become bull like. Arms thick like trunks, a chest broad as a bears and hips narrow and nimble. It had all come from the food, the sweet creams, protein filled eggs from the ducks, geese and chickens, the meat from the animals. Then all the time, effort, the never half hearted power he had exerted just so he could meet up to the standards his father had put in place, so he could care for his family in his father's place.
He twisted his staff from the rotten diseased flesh and whipped his blade around, it sunk into another Darkspawn's head. There were so many, they seemed to be never ending, he had killed three and more were running towards him, five, six- Maker there was no point in counting.
They were terrifying creatures, the story books did not do them justice, their skin was Gray and mossy in places, like they had never seen sunlight, died and forgotten to do the decent thing such as rot away.
Hawke didn't have time to stroke the over grown black sweat drenched hair from his face, he flicked it back with a toss of his head, letting go of his staff in favour of conjuring the fire that burned within him. He was a mage, and at last he could let it powers flood the world around him.
He scorched the onslaught of Darkspawn, their twisted faces, blood covered claws, all of it burned. His sister joined, a knowing little smirk dancing on her lips. They had ran from this power all their lives and now they could finally unleash it, it was finally not a curse to their family. The liquid flames danced over the edge of the cliff beyond the hill. Finally they could see what the land of Lothering had become, up to the great Highway: a long, high Bridge like structure from the time Tavinter had reined over Fereldan. All of it was bathed in flame, death and Darkspawn. The sky even bled and grew tainted, the mixture of the orange sky and the ash was a hazy mirror of the land below.
Their moment of grief was cut short, The roars of battle and the scream of pain rung in their ears. A Templar staggered while a woman with red, blazing hair bashed in the face of a Darkspawn, Hawke rushed towards the scene with his siblings by his side. His eyes going wide and eyebrows crawling up to his hair line. The woman was wielding a Shield and a kitchen knife. The woman had taken out two Darkspawn already and now she pinned a third below her, the knife being used with such force that it severed the creatures head from it's neck. Hawke swore in disbelieve before firing a fire spell over the woman's hunched form to stagger the fourth Darkspawn from stabbing it's blades into her spine.
Carve rushed forward, his great-sword swinging and lashing out brutally to destroy as many of the tainted beings as possible. Blood, black as ink, spilled out across the ground, it hissed and steamed. Carver remembered one of the lectures at Ostagar before it was over run, the dead Darkspawn lay at the commanders feet. His voice was so grim, he had told them that the Darkspawn blood was black, that it burnt when it touched your skin, maker he was right. Carver could only hope none of them became infected.
Bethany cast a healing spell over the woman and the Templar, pulling Leandra to her to make sure nothing came from behind. She had spent time in the Chantry, she loved speaking to the sisters there and reading their books. One Sister, Lelianna had been a bard in her past and would sing or tell stories. She saw no reason in such a dark time not to heal the Templar, where would he take her anyway?
"Mage!" The Templar hissed marching forward, Hawke intercepted swiftly, towering over the clean cut man of the cloth. He snarled viciously protective and in warning, his mind unable to be pulled fully from the heat of battle so quickly.
The fiery woman of war saved the Templar once more, pulling him back, "Wesley, the Maker understands."
Carver shifted in front of his twin as his elder brother and the Templar turned from one another. As Hawke turned his eyes swept over his family like a wolf prowling, scanning quickly over the three for injury before turning to the new 'threat'.
"If it weren't for you I would have been killed. I thank you for that. I am Aveline, this is my Husband Wesley. I know mages don't tend to like Templars but considering the circumstances..."
"You want to join us?" Hawke asked eyeing Wesley, "Will he be a problem?"
"No more than I usually am to my wife, she is quite the force to reckon with." Wesley chuckled and smiled, leaning towards the redhead that had protected him with the force of a lion.
Aveline smiled, it was obvious they were besotted, "No, there won't be any problems from us. There isn't anything like a blight to put things in perspective for you. I'll fight just as hard to defend all of you should you let us join. We will die if..."
"Of course you're joining!" Bethany interrupted, earning a groan from her brothers.
Leandra backed up her daughter, "We are not going to leave anyone we could help alone out here, you're welcome to stay with us as long as you wish."
"Thank you, I won't forget this." Aveline said so soft and heartfelt for a woman with such strength in her voice. She bent to grab her sword, keeping her husband's shield since his arm was useless. "Let us continue before more come."
Fate was a cruel thing, as soon as they gained a new member of the team, they lost another. He was frozen as Bethany knocked their mother out of the way, he was terrified as the huge ogre plucked his little, sweet sister from the ground. Memories of her playing with her dolls flashed through his mind, how she would grin all gummy at him as a baby and giggle. How she would cry out and toss her toy. How she was still crying out but this time that beast, that stinking retched creature was tossing his baby sister t the ground. Hawke would never forget the sound, that crack. He knew his sister was dead. Pure rage filled him, drove him forward with a roar of Anger. He did not even notice the dragon breathing fire on the creatures around him. Carver's call of his name meant nothing to him, they would not halt him from this. The ogre was laughing, that ugly twisted face looking at him with a snigger. He could see it in it's beady little eyes.
The Ogre, spotted with green scales and breath that could bring one to vomit up their breakfast, slammed it's fists into the ground right on top of Hawke. The unnaturally large knuckles could down an oxen, it shuddered the ground- but, with size it lacked speed. Hawke darted to one side, hopped on top of those huge fists, he propelled himself with magic, leaping with his staff raised high before slamming it into the back of the creature's neck. He landed, shoving the wood deeper and deeper, the wood sliding through the creature's neck and into the ground. It buckled at the last moment, lifting Hawke and forcing him to swing around to it's back. He was falling, he was going to die under the weight of this devil. A startled cry left his lips, he wrapped his legs around the creature's neck as it swung around arm's lashing out. Hawke's heart thundered in his chest in horror as he finally had the mind to reach for his pocket knife, grabbing it tight and stabbing the creature over and over, leaning over it's head to get at it's eyes and nose. It finally topped leaving him shaken.
Hawke felt Carver grab his back, pull him to his feet, but it did not stop him looking up, mouth dropping open as a dragon landed on the cliff above them. HE swore softly, tongue and throat dry as it swooped, swooping is bad. Was all Hawke would think before the creature began to transform. His mothers sobs were deafened by the magic singing. Gold light became a woman, old and deadly as she dragged a Darkspawn corpse with her. Hawke pushed Carver behind him. "Who-"
"The witch of the wilds." Aveline gasped out clutching her sword tight giving a passing glance to Wesley who was giving Bethany's body the words of the maker to guide her soul.
Flemeth's smirk would never leave his memories for years to come.