Spitting the coppery, red liquid onto the dark green grass of the Wilds, Echo scanned her surroundings. The endless skies she'd long imagined were dark and barricaded with ominous clouds, only allowing the occasional drop to pass between them. Jory panted and heaved, resting against a nearby tree to recover. Daveth was kneeled, collecting their final vial of darkspawn blood wordlessly. Then there stood Alistair, protectively watching over the Warden's newest recruits, though his gaze was weary.
"We're off then? To the Cache?" Daveth inquired. "Unless the Dwarf or Jory need a few moments, that is."
Echo's eyes narrowed as she sheathed her twin daggers behind her back. "As I seem to recall, you were the one who required frequent stops to get the twigs from your boots, while I led the way."
With a sigh, Alistair stepped forward. "Now, now. Let's play nice. Daveth is correct - the Warden's Cache should be just north of here," he mediated, his voice calm and smooth while he looked between the two. "Echo, would you care to lead us onward?"
The slightest of smiles tugged at her lips. "Of course, Warden."
The group trudged on, making their way through the slopes and valleys of the Korcari Wilds. Heading Alistair's advice, they cautiously trekked up a particularly steep hill. The recruits quietly unsheathed their weapons of choice.
"Remember - one at a time. Watch your backs," Duncan's words reverberated in the young dwarf's ears. "Our junior Warden will keep you safe."
Her steps were careful, quiet and sure; her blades' song nearly silent. As she reached the crest, her blades relaxed the slightest bit. "Only one," she whispered, her eyes not leaving the grunt.
"You sound disappointed," Jory grumbled. "I've seen enough today."
"Then you're in the wrong line of work, Friend. Alistair, may I?" she questioned, her grip tightening around the leather hilts of her blades.
"You may," he confirmed, slightly surprised. The dwarf did not strike him as the type to ask permission for much.
Her footsteps fell light upon the lush grass, thankful it was more forgiving than the stone she was so used to. The grunt was unaware until it was too late; her blade plunged into his back, twisting as she pulled it out. Its shriek was then cut short when she reached her arm to his front and slit his throat. As it slumped to the ground, she frowned. "I would have to kill the only surface creature that's shorter than me."
Alistair chortled. "I'm positive you will meet more in due time."
"Could that be our destination?" she questioned, nodding her head toward a distant formation.
"Indeed," he confirmed. "Let us move quickly, we're losing the little daylight we had. Daveth, take the lead." Echo shot him a displeased look. "You've done very well. I need to see how well they can do, as well. Let them take a straggler or two themselves." His voice grew quiet. "Duncan was right about you…"
"Very well. But if they brown their pants, I'm leaving them here for the darkspawn," she conceded.
His laugh was infectious and she was smiling again, this time more genuine than before. "Agreed."
Upon arrival at the Cache, the party immediately spotted the worn, broken chest. Daveth inspected it thoroughly, unable to remove the lid. Jory shook his head and replaced Daveth to a similar outcome.
Echo looked up to Alistair, her look an odd mix of pleading and amused. Placing a gloved hand on her shoulder, he gave her a nod of approval. "At least make it look difficult?"
"Step aside, boys. Don't they teach you Surfacers anything?" she questioned with mock distain. Her small fingers reached into her belt, producing a set of tools. It only took a few moments for her to pick the lock and lift the lid. "Alistair? It's empty."
ooooooooo
"Don't look so upset," Echo huffed. "We got the treaties, you realize."
"From an apostate," Alistair pressed, through clenched teeth. "I was raised in a Chantry. To be a Templar. We do not like apostates."
The dwarf snorted, the little knowledge she possessed of Surface religion coming to mind. "A templar? That is not surprising to me. And, to repeat myself: we have, in our possession, the treaties."
Alistair's features contorted disdainfully. "It's not like I had a choice in the matter," he mumbled. "I just don't like it."
Echo halted her steps. "I'm sorry. We did what we had to do, for Duncan and the other Wardens," she reasoned. "It's not as if we helped them gather secret herbs or took part in a secreter, evil ritual."
"That we know of," he sighed, continuing forward. "Come on, we can't stop now. Duncan is probably wondering what is keeping us."
Echo silently agreed and began moving to catch up with the rest of the group as they made their way back to the King's Camp at Ostagar. So far, she was unsure how to regard the Warden. Upon first meeting him, she thought she would have to lead Duncan to his torched corpse, which would probably still be spouting off-hand remarks about how fireballs were not friendly fire. But after their bout through the Korcari Wilds, she was beginning to realize that he hadn't been sent with the recruits just because of his short experience with the Warden's, but because of how capable and sure he carried himself into battle.
Daveth looked over his shoulder as he walked towards Duncan's fire. "Didn't you gather that flower for the Mabari's poultice?"
Nodding, she pulled it from her pack. She looked to Alistair as she twirled it in her fingers. "I will join you shortly; I made a promise to a sick puppy."
Jory snorted. "A puppy that would tear your arm off for the bone."
"He would never hurt me!" she gasped, feigning hurt. "You, on the other hand, he might use as a play toy."
"Glorious," he grumbled, "I'm joining the Grey Wardens to be a meat bone."
"If you do well, you might even make it to the ranks of waste disposal," Alistair agreed, his mead-colored eyes shining. "That's a position many dream of."
ooooooooo
Echo woke with a start, her body springing to a rigid sitting position. Her head throbbed like she had just drank the entire Dwarven army under the table; her vision blurry and body sweaty. To her left lay Daveth and Jory's lifeless bodies, both of their faces frozen in terror. They were dead; only she had survived. Only she had become a Grey Warden. She alone had been rewarded with terrible nightmares of her fate to come.
"Maker's breath," a now familiar voice came, relieved. Alistair kneeled next to the young dwarf, his eyes meeting hers without the scrutiny she was used to, his hand, free from its gauntlet, resting gently on her upper arm. "I'm glad you're awake. For a moment, we thought you wouldn't make it, yourself. I'm glad you're okay."
"I'm…alive, at least," she replied, her eyes falling to where his skin touched hers.
"You had a nightmare?" he questioned, though he already knew the answer. "That's one of the slightly more unnerving side effects to becoming a Grey Warden. I'll explain it more when you're feeling a bit better. No sense overwhelming you now."
She was thankful, to say the least, that Alistair had at least some sense of discretion. Her body relaxed, little by little, and she let herself lean into Alistair the tiniest bit. "What now?"
"A few animal sacrifices, lots of chanting and a mass naked dancing ritual," his answer came, his face serious. When her eyebrow quirked, a grin spread across his face. "Well you aren't any fun. Just rest for now, we've got an important stand tonight."
"Indeed we do," Duncan agreed as he approached. "Echo, you will accompany me to a meeting with King Cailan to discuss strategy."
Alistair helped her to her feet, not saying a word as she followed behind Duncan.
"Duncan, I wanted to say thank you," she told him, her short legs working double time to keep up with the tall man. "I'd probably be dead by now if you hadn't-"
"Do not thank me, just yet, Young Warden. Mortality is something you must be willing face, you will realize soon enough."
"At least I have a chance up here," her voice was earnest. "In Orzammar, I wouldn't be given a trial and my execution would probably have been public. I can start again, now. Just remind me not to look up."
Duncan chuckled, deep and throaty. "You have an agreement."
Being from Orzammar, Echo knew very little of over world politics and rulers. Straight away, she knew why King Cailan was on the list of names she at least, vaguely, recognized: he was handsome, his hair a wheat-colored blonde and his features sharp and perfectly defined. The golden armor he donned further highlighted his undeniably kingly look. Upon Duncan's arrival, his broad smile brightened. "Warden! And you brought the lovely new recruit I've been hearing so much about. This is very good, indeed. We were just about to discuss our plans of attack," he motioned towards the generals that stood before him.
Echo listened with as much care as she could, despite her fatigue, as the commanders picked through their plans, going over them several more times than she thought necessary.
After the meeting, Echo trekked her way through the camp, watching the elder Wardens practice, the mages perform their rituals. After a short while, she found who she was looking for.
Alistair was perched, half sitting on one of the far walls, his gaze seemingly unfocused yet transfixed on the expanse that lay before him. His left leg hung to the side, kicking lazily at nothing. She could not help but notice the way the last rays of the setting sun illuminated his face.
"You're staring," he informed her, not moving his gaze.
"No, I'm trying to figure out how to tell you bad news," she replied, knowing he would not be pleased.
"Bad news?" he asked, moving to face her.
Echo made it a point not to look past her fellow Warden. "Yes. You see, we will not be involved with the battle-"
"That is unacceptable," he cut her off. "'Not involved'? What will they have us do?"
"We need to light the beacon at the top of the tower. When it is lit, Logan-"
"Loghain."
"Loghain and his men will charge. We were handpicked for the job." She tried to convince him it was a good thing.
Alistair was clearly not amused. "Handpicked to miss all the action, maybe." Sighing, he started towards his comrade. Placing a gauntleted hand upon her shoulder, he began to lead the way to the armory.
"It could be worse, you realize." Alistair's eyebrow cocked. "You could be on Mabari waste duty."
ooooooooo
Panting heavily, the two Wardens stood back to back, blades in hand. Tens of darkspawn corpses littered the floor around them, the stench of burning flesh heavy in the air.
"All clear?" Echo gasped.
"All clear," Alistair confirmed. "Are you alright?"
"Perfectly. And to think, you thought you wouldn't get to kill anything," the dwarf teased, stepping away from Alistair. She bent down and began to rummage through the darkspawn pouches, pulling out a few poultices and sovereign.
"Are you…why are you looting the darkspawn?" Alistair questioned.
Echo took a swig of a stolen poultice before offering it to her new partner. "That guy will need more than a poultice and three copper to be okay."
He just shook his head, reluctantly finishing off the flask. "Let's keep moving."
The two quickly made their way through the Tower of Ishal, working in sync with one another as their blades made quick work of the enemies they encountered. Echo continued to take the poultices, salves and money from their kills, ignoring Alistair's look of disapproval.
She was nearly elated with their success until the reached the top floor, where they met their biggest challenge yet. The floor shook with the creature's strides across the room, the beast's stench making her stomach turn as her neck craned to look at the massive ogre.
"This seems like a cruel short joke," she muttered, drawing back her blades.
Alistair chortled next to her, taking a count of their enemies. "If we survive this, I'll buy you lifted boots."
"I'll hold you to that," she informed him before lunging forward, her blades slashing the throats of the two nearest darkspawn. Her feet moved swiftly, careful not to trip over the limbs of those that had fallen to the Wardens. The occasional backstab to the ogre kept Alistair from getting the very worst of his attacks.
Alistair swung hard, and he plunged his blade deep into the ogre's belly. With a loud roar, the beast fell. Looking forward, he watched as the dwarf turned just a few steps beyond where the massive head now rested.
"You owe me boots. Nice ones. I want to be able to look humans in the eye without straining my neck," she told him before taking to picking a few items from the pouches of their kills while Alistair made his way to the beacon, lighting it.
"Echo, come here." His voice was barely audible, his face blank.
"What's wrong?" she asked, quickly joining him. She scanned the scene before them, trying not to let the openness of the world disorient her. "What is it?"
"I don't see Loghain's men. We've lit the beacon, they should have charged by now." Alistair bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to panic.
"It's only just been lit; give it a minute," she reasoned. "I'm sure it'll-" Her breath caught in her throat as white hot pain caught her off guard, her shoulder almost numb.
"Echo?" he inquired, looking down at her. His confusion was short lived, as he watched another arrow pierce her back. Another wave of arrows, and the pair crumpled to the floor.
ooooooooo
"Is he okay?"
Morrigan gave a displeased sigh. "He is in as good of condition as he will ever be. 'Twas a head injury, I believe, but Mother disagrees. He is outside, if you wish to speak with him."
Echo slipped off the bed, immediately pulling linen trousers and a blouse over her small clothes. She noticed the muscles in her left shoulder pulled uncomfortably, but ignored it for the time being. She opened the door, spotting Alistair immediately. She made her way to him, slowly, sitting next to him on the lush Wilds grass. "Do you want to talk?"
"They're dead, you know," he whispered. "Duncan, Cailan, the other Wardens. All of them."
Echo placed a hand on her friend's knee. "Loghain never showed?"
Alistair turned to look at her, his eyes filled with fire. "I need you to promise me that he will pay for what he has done, one way or another."
She nodded, concern etching her features. "We'll do it together. I promise."
Some of the tension melted from his body and he turned back to the small pond that lay in front of them. "Thank you."
