CALM

A Dragon Age tale by Oliver Crown as roleplayed by Alice Oliveira

You know the tale. As, they called it, the Tale of the Hero of Ferelden. It goes that in 9:31 Dragon, John Cousland, the younger of the two sons of deceased teyrn Bryce Cousland, united Ferelden against both the Blight and the uprisal of teyrn Loghain Mac Tyr. Arl John I of Amaranthine and King Alistair I of Ferelden, by the time the only Grey Warden survivors at the battle of Ostagar, gathered a faithful party of companions, and led them until they built and army worthy of the one lost at Ostagar, dismantled teyrn Loghain's network of influence, having him executed at what's now known as The Crucial Landsmeet in Denerim, and then, even though people say the Blight hadn't trully began, defeated the Archdemon Uthemiel at the Great Battle of Denerim. Arl John Cousland, like great warriors of the ranks of the Grey Wardens before him, dealt the final blow to the Archdemon. But, unlike those very great Grey Warden warriors, he survived. The tale doesn't tell how.

But, I tell you, avid reader, the end of the Blight was just the beginning of events that would change forever not only the nation of Ferelden, but all the land of Thedas. Arl Cousland will indeed play a very important role on the events to come. But more important than him to these events would be the doings of a mage.

Once again, you know that there were six people who could have risen to the ocasion and become the Hero of Ferelden. John Cousland did it, but what of those five others? Duncan, the Grey Warden Commander of Ferelden in 9:30 Dragon, happened to be in Highever, instead of, say, Orzammar, and recruited John Cousland to the ranks of the Grey Wardens. But it did not prevent Badohr Aeducan's rise to proeminence, and even least that of Alice Amell.

As of the others, the three possible Heroes of Ferelden, the oblivion of history swallowed them, most likely. Their feats are not known to us, even if they ever came to do something remarkable. I will tell you, then, of Alice Amell. About how her path intertwined with that of John Cousland, Badohr Aeducan and Dylan Hawke, among many other great figures of Thedas. The path of this particular mage is the one that better shows you the happenings which answer why was it that Faustine II name our age the Dragon Age.

PROLOGUE, PART 1 - BARRED DOORS

So I take you back to Kinloch Hold, the famed tower of the Circle of Magi of Ferelden, in the year of 9:30 Dragon. To the day where, recently after the battle of Ostagar, John Cousland and his party reached the shores of Lake Calenhad seeking help not only against the Blight, but against the Demon of Redcliffe. This is where his destiny first interlaced with that of Alice Amell.

She couldn't tell exactly how was it that it all begun. She knew only a little of what concerned mages - like her best friend Keili, Alice was more in tune with the templars that watched over them (and she would always say "watch over", in opposition the the more common term "incarcerated") than to her fellow mages. So, whenever the mages were up to something, Alice would be one of the few last to know. Thus she didn't know of the very important meeting Uldred was having with the Senior Enchanters, now that he was back from the fatidic Battle of Ostagar.

I don't know if you would agree with me, reader, but I do find Alice exquisitely beautiful. A rare sight in Ferelden, one can say, given she resembled more an Antivan in looks, with their sharp features, olive skin, big, almond-like, mysterious eyes and slender build. Her eyes bore an exotic reddish-brown tone, and her hair a very dark color, with shades of the darkest gray, but not black, and never brown. She was like a less obvious, more discreet version of Isabela. If Isabela shines like gold, Alice shines like silver and I, for once, always were more found of silver than gold.

Alice had been through her Harrowing about a couple of months ago, right before an unlikely incident where she helped a good friend, Jowan, escape from the Tower. She was a fine woman in her mid twenties, under the influence of Sagitarius and Leo, with a keen aptitude to the Sphere of Spirit. Since she was a little girl, the Fade was always in connection with her, somehow, which is why she was always afraid of studying it too much. Even though she could easily feel the Fade, the dread of demons would always keep her away from delving into its mysteries. She could still hear the voice of the demon she faced in her Harrowing, Mouse, as she called him, saying:

"Remember: true tests never end."

But sometimes, the echoes from the Fade were too loud to be be ignored.

Alice was in the chapel, praying. She was feeling uneasy and worried that day, on edge, alert, taken by an ill feeling that something would go very wrong. She knew there was something in The Other Side going on, but she was too scared to try to look. The arched, angled brows were furrowed close, and at each little sound she would turn around, startled. The air was heavy and damp and, even if the cold stone walls of Kinloch Hold felt even colder that night, her forehead was dotted with little drops of sweat. She felt like warning the Templars. Warn Cullen. But what to tell them? That she had a bad feeling? They had busy lives, and she dared not bother them with what she considered a frivolity, even if a strong, terrifying one.

It was then the the Circle Broke.

The first she heard was the shriek, a sharp, high pitched shriek, as if a huge reptile had its spine torn apart in slow cruelty. She darted out of the chapel, looking around to try and find a living soul, but, except for the statues of Andraste (who, mind you, reader, looked a hell lot like Alice), she found no one. Not even in the corridors. Then, she felt the swing of Mana, the pulls in the ethereal thread that constitutes reality. Powerful magic was being executed somewhere in the tower, more strongly and more rapidly than she had ever seen. What could it mean, Alice asked herself, as she ran through the broad, circular hall of Kinloch Hold. Finally, she reached the stairs which would take her one story up. Usually, templars would keep guard, a pair of them, on these doors. But they were not there. The door was wide open, and the waves of Mana, something so subtle she wouldn't feel most of the time, was now so strong she needed to reach for a wall not to fall. Finally, sounds of armored steps, running, came from the stairs ahead of her.

Alice could not believe her eyes. You see, she always thought the templars were fierce warriors who would boldly face any challenge any mage presented. But now, the very two templars who should guard that door came running, desperately, and even through the thin line of their helmets, Alice could see their eyes were open in wide, ample terror.

"Run! Alice, run for your life!" Was what one of them shouted, and I can't remember his name. Not that it matters, anyway. As soon as he said it, he triped and fumbled down the stairs, while the other one didn't even hesitate and kept running like his life depended on it. Well, it did, right? Back to the fallen templar and the awestruck Alice, we would see that rolling down the stairs in heavy armor was not a good thing. The weight of the armor took the templar's leg to one side, his body to the other, a loud crack was heard, and when he finally stopped, said leg was in such a fashion extended on the floor, that no weak stomach should try and behold it.

But Alice's stomach was strong, at least to the sight of gore, that is, and she promptly went and kneeled next to the fallen templar who cried and shouted in pain. She knew not what they were running from, but she knew that, if running was needed, this templar ought to be brought back to running conditions. Thus, Alice spread her hands slightly over the crying templar's leg, and when she focused in the magic to be performed, another sharp, high pitched hiss was heard, but this time, it managed to hurt the mage's ears, and rendered the templar in fetal position, covering his ears in sheer agony. Alice rose her eyes to the door on the stairs, and comming down from it was a... Thing!

You think you know what the sight of an abomination is, reader, and you are wrong. One never appeared in front of you, the very portrait of the derangement imposed on the mage's mind, the very image of the struggle for control that was won by the demon now dwelling in what was once a human body. And like you, Alice thought she knew what to expect when faced with an abomination. The drawings, specially those of Tevinter books, were very detailed and realistic. But no, she wasn't ready. Her whole body froze, even as her ears felt like bleeding any moment. Her big eyes were open in wide terror, and, simply, she could not move. The thing, the undescribable monster, more slithered than walked in her direction, leaving an ooze the color of spilled body fat on it's wake. There were holes resembling mouths on the top of the mass of leather and skin and scales, mixed with shiny balls that resembles eyes. Some of these mouths grinned as the thing approached Alice and the fallen templar, when, suddenly, it flew past Alice and against the wall next to her.

The next one to come from the door on the stairs was Wynne, followed by Keili and Kenon, all with that terrified expression on their faces that are to be expected of people who find themselves suddenly fighting for their lives and have no idea what's going on. Alice too had one of those on her face. She wanted to ask Wynne what was going on, but still her body was frozen. Alice only managed to move when she realized the abomination was merely five feet from her, getting back on its... Feet? Only then she ran towards the other mages, but hesitating, worried about the templar on the floor, who was even closer to the abomination than her.

"Keili, Kenon, supressing flow! Cover me as I rescue the templar!" You see, Wynne said the name of the templar. I just don't happen to remember it!

Anyway, Keili and Kenon both produced their staffs and overcame the abomination with a gush of bolts of lightning and fire, respectively. The abomination struggled to stand once more, but even as it managed to do so, it seemed that the attacks of the mages prevented it from doing any more than that. The thing was pressed against the wall, and while it kept that way, Wynne knelt next to the templar and placed her hands over him. Too late. The man was bleeding out of his helmet, and beneath the breast plate, his chest no longer moved. Maybe he was not dead yet, but the abomination left no time for Wynne to try. It took the templar by the hand with one of its limbs, and used it as a shield against the attacks of Keili and Kenon.

It was than that Alice finally snapped and with a gnarl (seriously, she gnarled) she too produced her staff and joined the other mages, lauching a bolt of lightning that much surpassed that of Kenon. The abomination, who was already hurt, fell, and at once, as if synchronized, the four mages, Wynne included, turned their spells to fire, finally burning the monster to a point where the combustion took on it's own. The monster, angered and now truly hurt, started stomping and raging out of control.

"Alice, Keili, Kenon, run! Don't stand there watching, we must flee the tower!" said Wynne, motioning the younger mages to run, while they all nodded and ran, but not as fast as they could, since neither of them wanted to leave Wynne behind. She ran well for her age, but not as fast as three other mages could. The sounds of fighting were all over the place now, and as they passed by the chapel were Alice was before, she felt terror to see three mages willingly topple one of the statues of Andraste. She halted, looking angrily at that, about to go and make them pay, when Wynne touched her shoulder: "Alice, don't! We don't have time, the Tower is being overflowed by abominations! We must flee while it's time!"

"But Wynne!" said Alice, in her sweet, even while angered, voice. "Those are not mages of the Circle they... I think they're Maleficar!"

"Yes, but we cannot stop them! There are dozens of abominations on the loose, and I need your help to save the children on the floor below!"

Children. It was a week spot for Alice, such as was any of Wynne's pleas. Even as an apprentice she liked to help the Enchanters teach them. Alice loved children, and it moved her to know that the children needed to be saved. So, the four of them moved down below.

As we know now, reader, the menaces were gathered around the Harrowing Chamber, thus making the group's descent to the lower floors less perilous than the way until there had been. They found Petra with most of the Children, and together, all of them moved to the first floor. Joy and hope filled them all as they saw The Great Doors of the Circle of Magi, and ran towards it. Only to find it closed.

They shouted and banged against the door. Magic was useless. That door was made to keep the mages inside if needed be, and it fulfilled its purpose quite well, much to the escapees dismay. Alice placed both her hands against the darkned thick wood, and cried: "Is there anybody there? Please, can anybody hear us?"

Gregoir's voice answered: "Alice? Alice, is that you?"

It is important that I update you regarding important details of Alice's life, reader. As I said before, Alice was more in tune with the templars than with the mages. She was a Loyalist, a Chantry apologist, yearning to be striped of the curse of magic, and thus, the Knight-Commander's favorite. She was his insight into the younger mages, his eyes and more than a few times, his arm. Very few were the mages that actually liked Alice. Two of them, Anders and Jowan, had escaped the Tower, the former against her attempts to avert him, the later with her help. Wynne was very much fond of her and, of course, such was Keili. Finally, Niall, always avoiding getting involved in religious matters went along well with both the girls who believed way too much in the Chantry's preaching.

But the bond between Alice and Gregoir went further than mere afinity. He was the one Alice looked for a paternal figure and, deprived of a family of his own, Gregoir was reciprocal, and cared for Alice as a daughter. So, you can imagine, how hard it was for the Knight-Commander to say his next words: "I... I can't know for sure if you are Alice. I am sorry. I... I really am. The doors remain barred."

Alice was shocked, but she said no more. Slowly, very slowly, she stepped away from the doors, nodding in an almost imperceptible manner. Of course Gregoir couldn't open the doors. In his place, she would do the same, and she smiled a sad smile when she realized she was proud of him. She would expect nothing else from a true servant of the Maker. So, her fate was sealed. To wait and die, and take with her as many abominations as she could. She kept to herself, though, what Gregoir told her. She didn't want to others to feel desperate. They would fight better with hope of survival. Alice, she would fight better knowing they would soon be next to the Maker, finally, and present to him the biggest amount of abomination's lives she could.