Pearson Colt Part 1

When Pearson Colt arrived at the West Seleny Circle, he knew nothing of Fade Walkers or the trouble that they might cause him. Pearson was a young Templar but first in his class in all accords. He was a gentleman and a soldier winning quickly the admiration of his trainers and peers. His abilities with lyrium were most remarkable.

The long journey to West Seleny was tedious and held few moments of note; an old woman tried to pay for his services one night, the ferryman at Kirkwall kept making hungry eyes at Fenwick, his horse. Certainly out of the ordinary but nothing remarkable. Nothing like West Seleny.

It was an Antivan Circle, one that he had never heard of before receiving his reassignment a few days ago. This was as far as Pearson had ever been from Redcliffe. He had travelled the Imperial Highway all the way to West Hill before he and Fenwick got on a rickety ferry to Kirkwall. From there they rode up to Tantervale which was the last they had seen of civilization for days. They crossed the Minantern River and headed toward their goal.

Pearson could finally see the gates surrounding West Seleny. The map in his hand showed a small tower surrounded by waterways but it failed to represent the scene he entered. The area truly had no name on Antivan maps and was only ever referred to as West Seleny because it was west of Seleny.

"Clever." He muttered as he examined his surroundings.

It was a swampy, moist place. Various buzzing things aimed themselves at his armor and he did the best he could to wave off the pests without losing his balance. This place was dark but his eyes were bright as his steed moved steadily onward.

The tower was shorter than most but what it lacked in height it compensated for with width. It was a large, round, stone fortress with the tower at the back end. The front gate was taller than the walls and made of iron. As Fenwick's feet neared the gate, Pearson could make out a distinct difference between the stone that composed the rounded walls and the stone that held the gate in place. It was darker and appeared smoother. Almost liquid. And, as he approached the gate, two guardsmen greeted him.

"Maker's blessing." The shorter one said, offering a salute.

"Andraste's will." He answered, dismounting Fenwick, he handed the reins to the one who had spoken.

"Pearson Colt, I presume?" the taller one asked, his words thick with Orlais.

"Yes ser." He saluted, grinning. "Reporting for duty."

"You're enthusiastic." The Orlesian said. "That will wear off soon enough."

Pearson's smile dimmed.

"Oh, don't listen to Thorman." She smiled. "Walker's Tower isn't all that bad."

Thorman scoffed.

"Walker's Tower?" Pearson looked at his map. "I didn't know it was called…"

"Oh, it's not on the map as that." She answered. "That's what we call it."

"Oh." Pearson nodded. "Where should I report in?"

"I'll take you." The short one offered.

"Who will watch the gate?" Pearson asked. Thorman and the short guard exchanged a look.

"Don't worry," the short one said "It's being watched."

Pearson grabbed only a few papers and his travel sack from the saddle. He started off behind the short guard toward Walker's Tower. There were many smaller buildings inside the walls. All with the same, liquid stone appearance. He could identify a few of the buildings outright. There was a blacksmith, a training house, a bakery, and a garden all in plain view leading to the tower entrance. Behind those buildings were at least two more rows of structures.

"There's more here than I expected." He blurted.

"Oh?" she replied.

"Yes. I look forward to exploring what all you have here."

"We've got quite a lot. Nearest village is a good three days ride, as I'm sure you know. We find ways to be self-sufficient." Her legs may have been shorter than Pearson's but her stride was quick and he struggled to keep her pace. "Name's Keely. Keely Lock. I'm originally from Wycome."

"Wycome? That's quite a ways." He realized as the words escaped how entirely untraveled he had made himself sound.

"Says you." Keely continued, her feet seeming never to linger in the sand. "I've never been south of Jainen, can't imagine the trek it was to get here from Redcliffe."

They crossed a courtyard and Pearson could see the full height of the tower now. Thirty, maybe forty feet high, the circular tower was supported by massive blocks of stone and iron beams. There seemed to be no wood used in the construction, almost as if it had been carved out of a mountain and planted here.

"From the Korcari Wilds, actually."

"Really?!" Keely stopped and turned to him almost completely knocking him to the ground. Pearson stumbled and recovered in a manner less than graceful. Keely didn't seem to notice or care.

"Yes…" he started. "We were looking for some apostates there when I received word of my transfer here."

"The Korcari Wilds…" her eyes seemed to glaze a bit. "Is it at all like they say? Full of witches and darkness and things we can only imagine?"

Pearson allowed a slight grin. The sad fact was that most of the Wilds were just overgrown trees and want-to-be apostates. He too had heard the tales of old magics lurking those woods but he himself had never seen a lick of it. "Perhaps sometime I can tell you about it." He covered.

"Oh! The adventures you must have had! And to leave it to come to this place." She shook her head and kept walking. "You're better than I."

He would have responded with something charming had he not had to again pick up his pace as they entered the doors of the tower.

The doors themselves were marvels of craft. Each one made entirely of a single piece of stone, hung in just a way that they made no noise upon opening but closed with a thunderous crash. Once inside, there was a hall to his right, a room to his left, and a spiral staircase before him. Keely began marching up the stairs, not seeming to lose a single breath.

The stairs continued upward but they exited at the first landing. Doors leading to unknown places, all single pieces of stone, circled around the staircase in all directions. Pearson counted six of them. Keely led him to the one on his right.

"We'll catch up some time." She smiled. "I want to hear all about the Wilds!"

"That would be great." He smiled back. "Thank you for your help."

"Of course," she put her hand on the door. "And good luck."

She opened the door for him, allowing him to enter without herself leaving the hallway. He nodded to her and turned his attention into the room where he saw two Templars dressed in full armor, one sitting at a desk, the other leaning on it and looking at him as though he had interrupted something important.

"Pearson Colt reporting for-"

"Who in Andraste's name let you in here?!" The man standing by the desk pounded his fist, making the papers fly.

"Well," the gentleman behind the desk cleared his throat. "That's quite an informal introduction is it not?"

Pearson, either from resorting to his military training or from shock, stood silent staring at the wall.

"Roderick, you can't allow every-" the angrier of the two started.

"Solomon, this man is a Templar and a soldier, are you not?"

Pearson could feel his heart in his throat as he nodded. "Pearson Colt, reporting for reassignment."

"See there, Solomon? We were expecting him." Roderick stood from his desk, forcing Solomon to straighten his posture and move toward the wall.

"I would have hoped that we could meet under different circumstances." Roderick smiled. "I wasn't expecting you for another day or two."

"Knight-Commander, shall I return when you have finished?" Solomon turned, biting his words.

The Knight-Commander let out a small sigh. "If you must, Ser Garde." And with that, Ser Garde bowed his head, glared at Pearson, and exited the room brushing his armor against Pearson's shoulder.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion, ser." Pearson began to step out of the room. "I hadn't known…"

" Don't be ridiculous, son." The Knight-Commander said. "You're here now. The new recruit, yes?"

Pearson stood at attention. "Ser, Pearson Colt reporting for duty."

"So you said. May I ask, why are you here ahead of schedule?"

"I left as soon as I received word of my new assignment." Pearson could feel the sweat building up beneath his armor.

"But it's at least a six days' ride from the Wilds. We only sent your reassignment orders just over a week ago."

"Fenwick is a good steed." Pearson answered. "One of the fastest in the Hinterlands."

"No doubt one of the fastest in all of Thedas that you could cut your journey time in half."

"If you don't mind my saying so, Knight-Commander, my orders had mentioned that you yourself would be absent for at least another month and I was to report in with Ser Garde."

"Ah, well, Solomon. He is my second." He grinned. "Not always so unpleasant a fellow, mind you. But to answer your question, it seems my cousin, Knight-Commander Meredith in Kirkwall, now feels that she has a handle on her situation and no longer needs my assistance." His grin faded and his eyes drifted to the floor. "But that is not why you are here." He looked back up to Pearson and rose from his desk. He began to walk around to face him. "You are here because the Circle in Redcliffe couldn't use you."

This was news to him. He stood still, not sure how to answer.

"Not how I would use you. They spoke of your prominence, your skills, and your way with the mages." Pearson heard a ringing in his ears and felt that he might sweat himself out of his armor into a puddle. "Yes they spoke highly of you but they believed your time here would be…" Roderick looked him in the eye and Pearson could feel a part of him chill at the stare. "More promising."

Pearson felt his body ease some as Knight-Commander Roderick explained that a talented Templar such as he could only stay in the withering Redcliffe outcrop only for so long before realizing his higher calling. He wasn't sure what his "higher calling" was, exactly and Knight-Commander wasn't obliged to expound. Pearson had trained in Lothering after that terrible business with Terhyn Loghain was long forgotten and his vigil was heralded as a great success. Word of it had reached Antiva and so now here he was.

Knight-Commander Roderick allowed Ser Garde to give the tour of the tower. His mood had seemed to soften some but Pearson was still diligent to keep his mannerisms in line with protocol. He noted that while much of the basic structure of the tower reflected others he had seen, all of the doors were made from single, large slabs of the same stone. Ser Garde refrained from taking him to heavily mage-occupied areas claiming that it would be better to greet them in the morning. He had, after all, just come from a long journey from the south.

At length, he was led to his barracks which, he was told, were the new recruit barracks. They were separate from the other Templars. Isolated. Pearson couldn't help but notice the very trap-like nature of their walls.

Ser Garde bid him a well-rested night and was off to complete other tasks. Presumably he would return to look at the papers which Pearson had so clumsily distracted him from.

Pearson sat on his bunk. He bounced on it slightly as the springs sang. The moon had already appeared in the sky though the sun had yet to bow its head. He sighed. He began to take off his armor and placed it on the stand across from his bed.

Though his first day there had been plagued with anxiety, more questions than answers, and ill-will, he had no doubt that soon he would be back on top. He was charming. He was intelligent. He was a good soldier. Knight-Commander Roderick had said that he was highly desirable. So why was he in a little-known tower with no town to name it?

He got up and closed the door to his room.

That was when he noticed that there were no windows. This must be an isolation chamber of some sort, he thought. Perhaps a prank? Or some initiation ritual they had neglected to mention. He stumbled his way back to his bed, pulled the covers over his legs, and closed his eyes. Tomorrow was another a day and promised to be better.

After all, he knew nothing of Fade Walkers, so what had he to fear?