The Warden

by Captain Thrace

Uber J/7 set in "Dragon Age: Origins". Captain Janeway is Kathryn Elerya Jarwin, a mage turned Grey Warden. She with an eclectic cast including a blonde Witch of the Wilds must do whatever it takes to save Ferelden from the Blight.

In front of her stood a statue bordering on ten feet, grand in its presence and elegant in its construction, made from the finest of stone and carved by the greatest of stonemasons and craftsman. The statues' gaze reached outward, peering beyond into the gloom of the morning. The statue was of a beautiful woman standing tall and proud, long hair curled to the small of her back and chin set in defiance. Her normal daily routine saw her in front of this statue, but today was not a day like all the others. Today was the first day after her Harrowing, an experience which although chilled her to the bone filled her with a great strength and warmth. Perhaps it was the knowledge that she was now a full Circle Mage that gave her this... feeling of indestructibility. She had ventured into the Fade as all apprentices are required and she fought and vanquished the demon that awaited her there. She avoided becoming an Abomination. It was both humbling and gratifying, a testament to the years of hard work she had pushed herself through. Now here she was, standing in front of this statue in her old Apprentice Quarters, staring up at the Statue of Andraste, wrapped warmly in her new Circle Robes and feeling the comforting press of the wood of her new staff against her back. Turning her head to the left to spy a nearby mirror she took in her features, the red of her long hair, the strong jaw and defined cheekbones and those brilliant blue/grey eyes, ones that had on occasion made even her teachers quiver. Yet despite the strength and confidence she exuded from each pore, she was a tiny woman, slight and short, although most would testify that she was far from as frail and weak as she appeared to be. Yet her confidence in her abilities did not border on arrogance and she remained perhaps one of the most humble of the Circle. She was well known throughout the tower as one of the most kind and compassionate, her passion (and on occasion her temper) as fiery as her hair. She was a born leader. She raised a hand to a pendant that sat around her neck, closing her eyes tightly at the feel of it.

"Kathryn!" A voice called along the halls, making her turn away from the mirror and the Statue of Andraste, the movement making the left side of her calf rub against the knapsack carrying her possessions – alchemy equipment and the occasional token that she had been allowed to keep as a child since she entered the Circle Tower. Running towards her was a blur of robes, skin and hair, and bemusedly the woman noted it was Jowan. Jowan had been friends with her for many years ever since they had been partnered up for training purposes as young Apprentices. He was much taller than her, but he possessed none of the presence that she did. He didn't exude the same air as confidence as she, nor did he possess the level of skill that she had obtained, despite being an Apprentice of the Tower for longer.

"Jowan," Kathryn smiled grandly and approached him, laughing quietly at his highly disheveled appearance – a quite commonplace occurrence. Her voice was throaty and breathy – a quality that had appeared in her after an accident while indulging her curiosity with alchemical products and a reaction that exploded literally in her face. "I will miss seeing you everyday, my friend."

Despite himself, Jowan grinned back at her. "No you won't – you'll be able to talk with Tuvok all day every day." He shook himself. "But that isn't the reason I'm here." He glanced around the room hurriedly and distractedly as if looking for something that wasn't there. The room was deserted except for the two of them. "I need you to meet me in the Chapel. Soon. Hurry!" Before she could question him he scampered off, leaving the dynamic redhead to her own thoughts. Could it be that Jowan had renewed his previous crush upon her? It had made their friendship rather awkward for a period of time several years ago, but she had believed that issue had been dealt with. Perhaps it hadn't been, and he wanted her to meet him in the Chapel for... what, a wedding ceremony? What an unusual way to propose.

"I knew I would find you here."

"Tuvok." Troubles briefly pushed to the side in the presence of her old friend, Kathryn walked up to her oldest friend and grasped his forearms with her small hands. This man had been the adult to calm the raging child that had been brought forcefully to the Circle at least twenty years ago and still he had not aged a day. His black, cropped close to his head hair sported no greys, despite his age. Granted, he was Elven, one of the Dalish and so his lifespan was naturally lengthened to that far longer than a City Elf or Human. He was bordering two hundred years of age and yet he looked more like her age of twenty eight. He wasn't a mage by any stretch of the imagination but he was a Templar, a Senior one at that, reporting directly to the Knight-Commander as his right hand man. He was one of the Templars that were present at her Harrowing, something which he had remarked to her as something he did not take pride in. "It is great to see you, Tuvok. It'll be wonderful to be able to converse with you more often." Despite being an Elf with a Dalish upbringing and Dalish beliefs, Tuvok was one of the most able Templars stationed at the Tower and often his business was conducted on the Circle floors, floors which were expressly forbidden to Apprentices. Yet Tuvok had made it an effort to see his young friend each day when his duties allowed.

"Likewise, Kathryn. I trust you are well after your ordeal last night."

"Why, Tuvok, if I didn't know any better, I would have thought you were concerned!" Kathryn laughed, jovially wrapping an arm around the Templar's broad metal encased shoulders and walking with him towards the stairs of the Circle floors, Jowan forgotten. The Dalish Elves of Tuvok's tribe, the Vulcans were rooted in the belief that strength came from emotional control. As such, the Dark Skinned Elf regarded her with as stony an expression as that of the Statue of Andraste behind them. In her youth and her ignorance she had remarked several times that he had about as much emotion and character as a block of stone and yet now she came to favour that exact trait in him, partly because it meant he didn't hold the same prejudices against mages as some of the other Templars did, but also because it made him an adviser she could trust.

"The concern you attribute my questioning is for your wellbeing. I have witnessed the Harrowing multiple times and they have often ended very badly. Often, the Harrowing is enough to completely break a new Mage. I am just ascertaining your mental and emotional stability."

Knowing the man well enough, she realised he was telling her that yes, he had worried about her during her Harrowing and that yes, he was very glad to see her well. Kathryn smiled knowingly at the stoic man who raised an eyebrow and they both ascended the stairs up into the Circle floors, to meet with the First Enchanter.

"So, business?"

"I have been asked to fill in for the Knight-Commander while the First Enchanter welcomes you to the Circle as a true Mage. I assume you'll receive your first appointment."

"Perhaps." Kathryn said, readjusting her bag over her shoulder. "Might be with Senior Enchanter Leorah. She was griping a few days ago about not having adequate help."

"I was not aware that you had an interest in Enchanting."

"I don't," Kathryn laughed, "but I figured if Leorah needs help, then I should volunteer."

"An admirable intention, Kathryn." Tuvok quirked an eyebrow at her as they reached the Senior Mages Commons which was filled to the brim. Or as filled to the brim as it could be, considering there were only fifteen Senior Mages currently in residence in the Circle. The rest of the forty odd Senior Mages had all been sent to Ostagar, although Kathryn had no idea why she was willing to place her money on it being the rumours of stirrings to the South in the Korcari Wilds. Although what those stirrings indicated, that was up to speculation. Some insisted it was the Witch of the Wilds and others thought it were an invasion force from a rival country. Most believed they were just rumours. But if anything that Senior Teacher Graven taught her before he died was that something never comes from nothing, and that there are whispers of truth in even the smallest and inconsequential of rumours. Various others had become Apostates and were on the run from the Chantry, something which had greatly saddened Kathryn. She had grown up with a good many of the people that had turned Apostate, mages outside of the Tower and a good many of them had been discovered by the Templars and murdered. Shaking the thought from her mind, Kathryn walked through the crowd as the offered her congratulations on her successful Harrowing. Amongst the chatters she heard whispers, brief snippets of conversation.

Knight-Commander Greagior said that it was the fastest Harrowing he'd ever seen!

Some of the others think she'll make First Enchanter one day. Replace Irving himself!

I wonder what our babies would look like...

Pig! Kathryn hefted a force-ten glare at the man as she walked, feeling gratified when the man flinched and attempted to make himself small amongst the sea of robes. As she approached the center of the large circular stone room adorned with various statues of Andraste, the Maker and various important mages, a man in long flowing purple robes approached her from across the room. When they met in the center, First Enchanter Irving placed his old, wisened hands upon her shoulders.

"You have survived the Harrowing." He said, his soft croaky voice reverberating around the suddenly silent room. "You have become a Senior Mage, with all of the privileges and advantages that title brings. You should be very proud." The old man patted her shoulders before stepping away from her, regarding her with keen intelligence. "Kathryn Elerya Jarwin, you came to us with nothing but the clothes on your back and a fiery personality. Something we experienced many times, particularly when you began experimenting with fireballs." The mages around them laughed heartily, and despite herself Kathryn grinned at the memory of setting the First Enchanters robes on fire. "You are thusly accepted into the Circle as my personal adjunct." The old man smiled, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. "You've made me very proud, my girl." This time when he stepped forward he embraced her, wrapping her in his arms.

"Thank you, First Enchanter." Kathryn whispered. "You honour me for this opportunity. I will not let you down."

"Oh I know you won't, my dear!" Irving laughed and stepped away once more, looking anything but old with the wide smile on his face. "And the first thing you can do is assist Senior Enchanter Leorah, she's been driving me mad with her requests for an aide." Kathryn smirked at Tuvok who merely quirked an eyebrow while those around them laughed, enjoying the lightness of the atmosphere. It was a wonderful thing when a Mage survived the Harrowing and it often brought about celebrations, such as what this 'official' meeting would become. When all was said and done, Kathryn turned away from Irving as he went to converse with Uldred, another Mage. Happily, the young new Mage walked towards another, a man, tall and statuesque. Without a word the man wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

"Mark."

"Congratulations, Kathryn." The man whispered into her ear just loud enough to be heard over the gaggle of Mages around them. "I'm very proud of you. We all are."

"I know. Thank you, Mark." She smiled gently into the warmth of his chest, pressing her cheek against the robe. Jowan and his request once again leaked to the forefront of her mind and Kathryn wondered idly why Jowan had appeared so distracted, so haggard. Why he had insisted that she meet him in the Tower's Chapel and soon. After a few moments in Mark's arms, she decided to put the thought aside for at least one day. Jowan could wait.

---

"Kathryn, I'd like you to meet Commander Duncan. He is a Grey Warden." It was the evening of the day after her Harrowing. The celebrations had been a wonderful affair, and now completely relaxed, Kathryn sat in the First Enchanters' Study, opposite of the man himself and diagonally across the mahogany table from a tall, tanned, muscular bearded man. His long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail and his haggard appearance belied great pressure upon his armoured shoulders. The man was wearing what appeared to be Dragonbone armour, laced with metal. It covered his chest, shoulders and forearms, and most likely followed the same pattern beneath the thick pale skirt he wore.

"Commander Duncan. I wasn't aware a Grey Warden was visiting the Tower."

"This isn't exactly a social call."

Irving steepled his fingers over his desk and leaned forward. "Duncan is searching for recruits for the Grey Wardens."

"Our numbers are few. In all honesty I was hoping to gain a few more mages for King Cailan's army in Ostagar."

"So the rumours are true, then." Kathryn said, attracting both men's attention. "There is something happening in the Korcari Wilds. I've only heard snippets of information and even that was riddled with inaccuracies."

"And yet you managed to deduce the truth. I am impressed." Duncan inclined his head towards her respectfully. "We have kept information on a very need-to-know basis. Those that are in the army and the Nobles that are funding that army are in the need-to-know. The rest of Ferelden knows that an army has been amassed at the Ruins of Ostagar, but they do not know the reason why."

"I'm guessing that the reason why is something big enough to cause a panic if word got out about it. So in the interests of keeping the peace, you're keeping this whole thing quiet."

"An astute observation. Yes."

"So I'm guessing that there is either an army massing against us towards the south from one of our less-than-friendly neighbouring countries, the Chasind are launching an attack on the northern lowlands, or there's a Darkspawn threat."

"You have done your research, obviously. You are correct – there is a Darkspawn threat."

"Kathryn is one of our most scholarly mages here, rivalling Uldred and Niall. Her love for knowledge is rivalled only by her immense skill in the magic arts. Her Harrowing was the fastest we have seen."

"Then I am doubly impressed, Kathryn. I know that the Harrowing is a test alike to throwing someone to the wolves defenceless. It must have been very difficult."

"Thank you, Duncan. So, if you need Mages in Ostagar, may I suggest myself, Jowan, Niall and Uldred go? We are all mages of high calibre and would be of benefit to the King's Army. I myself am a Primal Mage while Niall focuses on Creation magic. Uldred has studied a great deal in Spirit magic and could be of great assistance. And Jowan, well, he has shown great promise in Primal Magics as well. "

"Unfortunately," Irving said as he rose from his seat, "Jowan has not completed his Harrowing."

"Then send him as my Apprentice."

Irving watched her for a few moments, eyes intently boring into hers. She stared back at him with an equally clear gaze, neither relenting. After several long moments, Irving sighed and stood, moving to begin pacing. "Jowan will not be undertaking his Harrowing or continuing his studies with the Circle."

"What? But he's a strong mage, he's got potential!"

"He has also broken one of the cardinal rules of the Chantry by engaging in a romance with an acolyte." That shocked Kathryn into silence, despite it not showing on her face. "It is my belief that he would not survive his Harrowing even if he were to attempt it, and if he did he appears susceptible to demonic possession. We will approach him with the Rite of Tranquility."

The Rite of Tranquility. Kathryn looked down at the hands folded in her lap before she smoothed out the deep red of her robes. Those mages who are too weak of will to resist demonic possession or appear to be dangerous are forced to go through the Rite of Tranquility, which (involving the use of a magical brand made of lyrium) cuts off a mage's connection to the Fade – they can no longer dream. As a side effect, their emotional center is utterly removed. The Tower had a small contingent of Tranquil, various others being scattered about Ferelden, one of them which being the Quartermaster, Owain. Often when walking to the Statue of Andraste in her favourite corner in her favourite, less traveled corridor she would walk past him and he would regard her with lifeless and souless eyes. Those eyes frightened her. She shuddered at the thought. She recognised that it was necessary, but she despised the thought of it. Surely, death would have been a better existence than a life without emotion, a life without love?

"So you're going to rob him of his emotions."

"It is never a decision that we like to make, Kathryn, you have to understand. The Chantry demands it. If I could I would allow Jowan to continue his studies as he is, in fact, if I could I would dispense with the Harrowing completely. We have more things to worry about than Abominations."

"The First Enchanter is correct, Kathryn. The Darkspawn are a greater threat than blood mages, even abominations. It takes decades for the world to recover from a Blight."

"But by that same token, Warden Commander, when a Blight has ended, another one does not arise for several hundred years. The last Blight was four hundred years ago." Kathryn raised her jaw defiantly. "The Chantry have laws in place to protect us all – the populace and ourselves. I admit that I myself detest the thought of the Rite of Tranquility or even the Harrowing itself, but think of the damage an Abomination could cause if it were originally a powerful Blood Mage."

To her surprise, though she did not show it, Duncan began to laugh despite his haggard, tired appearance. "Quite right. But there must be other ways to make Mages safe while dispensing with the inhumane treatment of individuals that could potentially be a threat." He shook his head for a few moments. "However I have gotten ahead of myself. Irving," He turned to the First Enchanter, "I shall return to my quarters for the evening. We shall continue these talks tomorrow, First Enchanter."

They exchanged pleasantries before the door closed behind Duncan, and Kathryn and the First Enchanter were left alone. Irving slumped back in his chair and pressed his hands to his face, rubbing his temples. "I should have known you'd begin a philosophical debate with Duncan. I don't mind it, infact it's one of the things I like about you – you have an open mind and you're willing to question and argue about the world around you, and you support your arguments with valid evidence."

"I aim to please," Kathryn remarked dryly, earning a short laugh.

"Yes, well..."

"About Jowan, First Enchanter. I saw him this morning and he seemed nervous, distracted." Kathryn pursed her lips, frowning as she thought back on Jowan's behaviour. "He asked me to meet him in the Chapel. At first I thought it was a half-baked attempt to marry me, but what you've said about him and Lily makes me think otherwise."

"This is disturbing news indeed. Perhaps he has been notified of the Rite of Tranquility by Lily." Irving sat up, moving to the edge of his seat. "I want you to go to the Chapel, pretend you're on his side. Do whatever it takes to convince him you're siding with him. Then report back to me what he wants."

"Of course, First Enchanter. Do you think he'll attempt to flee from the Tower? Become an Apostate? His Phylactery is still in the Tower, he could try to destroy it."

"Then we should catch him in the act. Nevertheless, go to him and see what he wants, Kathryn, then report back to me. We'll decide what to do then." He leaned back in his chair. "But this can wait for a few moments more... How is Mark?"

"Mark? He's fine. Ecstatic that you made me a Senior Enchanter and your protege just after I completed my Harrowing." She laughed quietly. "He's been pushing for a marriage date. Now that we're both Circle Mages there are no restrictions, so he's looking to take our relationship to the next level."

Mark. Mark Cousland, Teyrn Cousland's eldest son. Mark had shown up at the Tower two years before Kathryn had and had been one of the other children to show her the ropes. While she had been difficult and enraged, Mark had been calm and allowed her to adjust to life in the tower. Along with Tuvok, he had been instrumental in assisting her. Two years before he himself had become a Circle Mage they engaged in a relationship and the amount of time they could spend together was cut drastically due to his commitments to the Circle and hers to study. They had maintained their relationship in the year it took for Kathryn to be offered her Harrowing, and now were free to do as they wished.

"Are you going to marry him?"

Kathryn bit her lip and leaned back in her own chair. "I don't know, First Enchanter. I'm not sure if I'm ready for that kind of commitment. You know the Circle Council will push for a child. That's one commitment I am not ready for."

"Not going to have children?"

"Oh, I imagine some day I might. But not now. I've simply got too much on my plate at the moment, what with my research, my tuition on your role, Jowan and now this Darkspawn threat."

"Perhaps you are right, my girl. There is plenty of time." Irving smiled before standing. "I believe it's time for you to visit our friend Jowan, now. Remember to make him believe that you're on his side. Report back to me whatever it is he wants you to do. Maker be with you."

"Of course, First Enchanter. Maker be with you." Getting up from her seat, Kathryn smoothed down her red Enchanters robes before moving towards the door, exiting it without preamble. As she walked along the halls, she thought back to her meeting with Jowan earlier that morning, wondering if what Irving believed was the truth, that Jowan was with Lily and that he had been notified of his impending Rite of Tranquility. Stopping for a moment despite the need to assess the situation, Kathryn leaned against a nearby wall and pressed her hands into her face, letting out a long, drawn out sigh. "Why do things have to pile up now?" She groaned into her hands before pulling them down to slap her thighs. Standing upright, she began her journey once again and after a few minutes she entered the Chapel, spotting Jowan with company behind a lattice with perfect view of the door.

"Kathryn!" He waved her over and she promptly made her way over to him, eyes moving to the woman beside him who she recognised as Lily. So, First Enchanter Irving was correct. Then perhaps this will be about him needing to run from the Tower. Putting on her best apologetic smile, Kathryn moved to wrap an arm around his shoulders.

"Sorry Jowan for the wait, I've been busy. The official ceremony, the getting settled and then one thing after the other-"

"It's fine, Kathryn. I understand that being a Circle Mage is time consuming work." Jowan chuckled nervously. "Kathryn, I'd like to introduce you to Lily."

"Lily and I have met," Kathryn instantly said, yet pushed her hand forward. "Lovely to see you again," she said, layering on the charm.

"Good to see you too, Kathryn, although I do wish they were under better circumstances." The slightly taller, brunette woman said. Her features were mouseish, not unlike that of Jowans. "There's a reason why Jowan hasn't received a request to undergo the Harrowing."

"They intend to force me through the Rite of Tranquility, Kathryn."

"That's horrible!"

"I need your help to get away from it. To escape a fate worse than death, with Lily. We'll flee Ferelden, go to Orlais, start a new life. Whatever it takes to be free from the Circle and the Chantry."

Kathryn lowered her head in thought for several long moments. "You'll want to destroy your Phylactery, first. If they still have it they'll be able to find you."

"That's exactly what I was thinking. An Apprentice Mage can't access the repository, but a Circle Mage can and it helps that you're a Senior Enchanter, now, too."

"I can get past the first lock fine. But what about the second one? Everyone knows that that lock is warded to only be unlocked by First Enchanter Irving and Knight-Commander Greagior themselves. We'd need some item to melt the hinges on the door." Kathryn began pacing slightly. "How about the Rod of Fire? Senior Enchanter Leorah discovered it a few weeks ago, it could probably melt the hinges without a problem. I'd be able to requisition one."

"Does that mean you'll help us?"

Kathryn took a deep breath. "Yeah. No one deserves Tranquility, not for a crime that hasn't occurred yet." She leveled her blue/grey eyes upon him. "I'll go to the Storerooms and get a Rod of Fire from Owain. You two head down to the Basement and I will meet you there. The Mages should be heading to bed soon, so you shouldn't have any trouble. Be careful of the Templars, though. They don't take well to Apprentice Mages and Acolytes sneaking around at night."

The two of them thanked Kathryn profusely before leaving, leaving her to her own devices... and her own guilt. She was selling them out! Jowan, the boy who had been her friend for years and she was selling him out to be made Tranquil and Lily to be shipped to Aeonar, the prison for those that defied the Chantry. Sinking to the ground, Kathryn sat upon the stone inside the dark, quiet chapel underneath a Statue of Andraste, a hand to her temple, rubbing at the skin as if to fight off a headache.

This couldn't be happening. Jowan, Mark, the Darkspawn, all on the day after her Harrowing. It was enough to drive her mad. Jowan had truly gotten himself into a mess, and no matter what she felt guilty for what she was going to have to do – report Jowan's intentions to First Enchanter Irving. She ran a hand through her long, red hair, letting out a long sigh that reverberated throughout the Chapel. She had her loyalty to the Circle – they had been the only people that helped her in her time of desperate need... but she also felt that what would happen to both Jowan and Lily was wrong. Curse morality, she thought bitterly. Makes everything damnably complicated. After a few minutes she picked herself up off the ground to walk to the Storeroom, reporting to First Enchanter Irving and the Circle be damned.

---

What had gotten her into this mess? Oh, that's right, she thought bitterly, Jowan and his impending Tranquility. Although she didn't agree with Tranquility, she understood that it was a necessary evil – an Abomination could do a severe amount of damage in a very small amount of time, depending on the type of demon that had crossed the Veil. A Pride Demon, for instance, could overrun the whole of Western Ferelden within a matter of days and become nearly unstoppable. But, putting her mind to the task at hand, Kathryn gripped tight her staff as she lead the two lovebirds through the catacombs within the basement. Her staff was alight with magical power and lighting the gloom of the stone corridor. There had so far been no resistance, other than the Second door to the Phylactery Repository being warded against any form of magic, including artefacts such as the Rod of Fire she had acquired from Owain earlier. She had gone so far as to try and blow the door off the hinges with several well aimed fireballs, but the spell had fizzled long before the fireballs reached the door. Thankfully, there was another door and now she was leading the Apostate-to-Be and Chapel-Runaway-to-be down the halls and to the Phylactery Repository. It was, however to her express shock that half way through they began to encounter resistance. Lily was useless in a fight and Jowan was still an Apprentice Mage, still attempting to learn how to control his powers which often fluctuated. He would do more harm than help and against these spirit guardians, he'd be nothing but useless. Muttering under her breath about her situation, Kathryn raised her hands above her head, feeling the magic charge through her bones, skin and out through her fingertips, a conjured wind flapping at her hair relentlessly. She released her power and a large jet of lightning shot through the air and cracked into the forms of the spirit guardians infront of her, knocking them clear off their feet and ten meters back down the corridor where they dissipated into the air.

"Wow," Jowan exclaimed, "remind me not to make you angry!" That remark made her turn her head and level a glare at him. "Er, right. Did I mention how thankful I am that you're helping us?"

"You did. Plenty of times. But we'd better hurry. If First Enchanter Irving finds out what we're about to do, our backsides will be handed to us on a silver platter, courtesy of the Chantry." And find them she knew Irving will, she had no doubt. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if he already knew that they were here. She rounded each corner expecting Irving to be there, flanked by Templars, and yet each time she was pleasantly surprised when no such thing occurred. They were only accosted by the usual spirit guardians of the Catacombs, and they were easily dealt with.

Before long the trio encountered a door, one that was unwarded and one that Kathryn could open with little difficulty and a well placed fireball. When the smoke, dust and debris cleared, the archway revealed a store room, filled with ancient artefacts. Her curiosity suddenly piqued, Kathryn dispensed with caution and breezed into the room, the fabric of her red robes whispering as she moved. "This is amazing," She said with awe. "These artefacts all appear to be from the time of the Tevinter Imperium!"

"Kathryn! Don't touch anything! Who knows what dangers these artefacts have stored inside?"

"They're Tevinter, not booby-trapped."

"Need I remind you of the Tevinter ruins that claimed hundreds of lives thanks to such devices?"

"Good point. But you have to admit, these artefacts are fascinating." Kathryn walked up to a statue, one which held it's hand out as if clasped around someone's neck. The stone of the arm and chest were covered in centuries old blood. "Morbidly fascinating." Kathryn glanced back at the two. "We should be right beside the Phylactery Repository, now. Check around and see if there's a way to get in, if there's some sort of secret door or something." With the orders given she walked along the walls of the well lit (and decidedly ancient) storeroom, eyes roaming the walls and the artefacts that lined them. At the end of the far wall, she came upon a tapestry, one that looked old, and yet it looked hideously out of place as if it were protecting something. Without thought she brushed it aside and stared at what had been behind it. A small portrait, no bigger than the palm of her hand was nailed to the wall, faded and seemingly inconsequential against the grand stone. Reaching forward, she tore the portrait from the wall and brought it closer to her face, her breath leaving her in a gasp as she took in the features of the woman in the portrait.

The woman was hauntingly beautiful, her features bold and her demeanour cool, calm. Her bone structure was elegant, her jaw strong and her chin adorned with a cleft. Her cheekbones high, what captured Kathryn most were her eyes, a startling blue the likes of which she had never seen. The woman's hair was blonde and fell about in long locks to mingle around the black leather that covered her shoulders. In her hands the woman held a staff, and it was without a doubt that this woman was a mage – a keen glow in the woman's eyes denoting the lyrium presence even through the painted medium. Kathryn looked back up to the woman's eyes and marvelled at the colour, discerning a keen intelligence within the otherwise cold gaze. Those eyes... she felt like she knew them. The painter/sketcher had done a wonderful job of the portrait, so much so that it looked as if the woman herself were staring back at her. She turned the paper over to inspect the back which bore only the following:

"7:9 Dragon. Witch of the Wilds."

She turned the paper back over again and stared at the face, only just remembering to breathe. This had been drawn only a few months ago. Only now Kathryn realised that background – something which paled considerably in contrast to the woman – was that of the Korcari Wilds. Given her background and the fact that Kathryn had never seen the woman before, she gathered that she was an Apostate. Wait a second! She straightened up and ran a hand through her hair, turning her head to check that Jowan and Lily were still occupied looking for a way into the Phylactery Repository. It's not like this woman is an actual real live person. It's probably just some artist drawing something to pass the time. Yeah. Nevertheless, Kathryn slipped the picture into her robes, tucking it firmly into a pocket above her left breast. Why, she didn't know, but she didn't have much time to ruminate on that. Both Jowan and Lily had found a bookcase which they moved to the side and required her assistance in blasting through the wall behind it.

"You will both need to stand back, Jowan, Lily. Fireballs can be very unpredictable little blighters."

"You'd know about that, wouldn't you Kathryn?" Jowan laughed nervously while Kathryn merely rolled her eyes.

"Would you like to find out just how unpredictable my fireballs can be?" Kathryn allowed her magical energy to surge into the palm of her hand, creating a fireball. As the tingling in her fingertips reached it's peak, Kathryn aimed her hands at the wall and allowed the fireball loose, watching smugly as it collided with the wall and blew the wall to smithereens. "Alright. We're there." Kathryn retrieved her staff from it's leather entrapment on her back and held it at the ready just in case there were any spirit guardians in the next room. Taking a deep breath, she lead the way. To Kathryn's great surprise, there were no guards, no spirit guardians and perhaps most of all... no Irving and no Templars. She let out a quiet sigh of relief as she stepped into the middle of the room, eyes scowering the contents in search for anything out of the ordinary.

"Finally! The Phylactery Repository! Mine must be around here somewhere." Jowan leapt up the stairs leading towards a second level, leaving Kathryn and Lily to follow quietly behind.

"What will you do after you destroy your Phylactery and escape the Tower, Jowan? Where will you go?"

"Well," Jowan said over his shoulder as he frantically searched, "Lily and I were thinking of going to Orlais. Of course we'd need supplies first so we'd head to Redcliff and then to Gherlen's pass to reach Orlais."

"We're hoping to build a life together there. I've always wondered what it would be like to make Orlesian garments, and Jowan is hoping to make a living as a merchant."

"Sounds wonderful," Kathryn murmured, thinking that there couldn't be anything worse. She was a firm believer that they had been given the Gift of Magic for a reason, a firm believer that they should use their gifts for the betterment of mankind. Many disagreed with her, in particular the Chantry. The Chantry believed that the gifts should be used for the betterment of the Chantry, despite what they would have others believe, and often silenced those that would attempt otherwise, hence why there were an increasing number of Apostates. Because of who she was, and the fact that she was also one of the most powerful mages in the Circle, they could not silence her. But then again, she kept those thoughts to herself, knowing that conformity would be best for the time being, assured that in the future the Chantry will be overthrown and her and her kind would be free to assist humanity in the best ways that they could – amongst the people, increasing the quality of life of the people. This belief she kept close to her heart, locked away. On the outside, she appeared to be one of the most staunch supporters of the Chantry, and on some levels, she was. Some of the rules the Chantry instilled were to protect the people and themselves, but the way that they went about doing things was abhorrent, and keeping the Mages locked inside this tower like cattle was demeaning. In a way, she could understand Jowan and Lily's attempt to leave. And in a way, she could also understand the position Irving, herself and the Chantry were in because of it. If Jowan could be easily turned into an Abomination, then there was clearly a massive risk. But surely, there must be other ways to protect a person and the society they lived in than removing from them all of their emotions? More training, perhaps? Kathryn made a note to investigate that train of thought, later. For now, she was occupied with Jowan's phylactery sitting right infront of her. "Jowan! Here it is."

Suddenly Lily and Jowan were at her side, staring down at the small vial that contained Jowan's blood. "It looks so small." Jowan finally said after several long moments of silence. "I can't believe that this is the thing that's been keeping me from freedom!"

"We should destroy it and get out of here as soon as possible, Jowan," Lily said, hand lightly resting on his arm. "Please."

Jowan glanced over his shoulder at his love and leaned over, kissing her gently on the cheek. "Worry not, love. All of our problems have now been solved." With that, Jowan threw his phylactery to the ground and the sound of glass smashing filled the air. "What's done is done. We are now free."

"Congratulations are in order, I suppose," Kathryn said, "but you're now Apostate. You're going to need to leave – and fast. Less chance of you getting caught by one of the on duty Templars."

"Yes." Jowan turned to Kathryn and gave her a large, relieved smile. "I cannot tell you how thankful I am, Kathryn. You have been instrumental in my studies and now in helping me gain my freedom." He moved up towards her and wrapped her in a tight hug, one which she returned. He was her best friend, after all and some part of her didn't like the thought of him leaving her, even if it was to escape being made Tranquil.

"I am sorry that we have to part ways in this unfortunate situation, my friend." Kathryn murmured into his ear. "You have been a great friend and I will miss you." She said truthfully. "I hope we will meet once again in the future."

"Undoubtedly we will, Kathryn. You are destined for great things, I can tell."

With that out of the way, the three made their way through the second door (which they could now open, being on the other side) and out the first open door, towards the stairs leading them out of the basement. Just as they ascended the stairs to the Circle Tower proper, they were accosted by several Templars. "Oh Maker!" Kathryn swore quietly under her breath as the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander approached them. Without hesitation she straightened up and regarded them with a keen glare, jaw set determinedly.

"A Circle Mage, an Apprentice and an Acolyte. I had scarcely believed it when First Enchanter Irving told me that one of his Apprentices and one of my own Acolyte's were engaged in an affair. Yet here the evidence is before me!" Knight-Commander Gregior said, regarding them with distaste. "Lily, I had come to expect so much more from you."

"Maker forgive me, but Knight-Commander, I am in love with Jowan. We only want to live peacefully, together."

The Knight-Commander snorted. "And this Circle Mage is facilitating your escape! Irving, what is the meaning of this?"

"I do not know, Gregior. I was under the impression that Kathryn was supporting us."

Kathryn leveled a hefty glare his way. "You suppose. While I understand the necessity of the Rite of Tranquility, I cannot sit by and allow it to occur when I can prevent it's occurrence."

"It is not your choice, Mage!" Gregior cried, stalking in front of her, arms gesturing wildly. "The Rite is to protect the people. Jowan, you will submit to the Rite here and now. Lily... you, you will be sent to Aeonar for your transgression."

The Knight-Commander made to move to Lily and take her into his custody, and it was to Kathryn's surprise Jowan stepped in. "No! I will not let you hurt her! I won't let you send her to Aeonar!" With that he produced a knife from his robes and stabbed his hand, the blood creating an aura around him as he channeled it with his magic. He thrust his hands forward and knocked the Templars, including the Knight-Commander and Irving backwards across the large cavernous room.

Kathryn stared at Jowan in shock. "Jowan!"

"That's... that's blood magic!" Lily cried, tears beginning to appear in the corners of her eyes. "Maleficar!"

"Lily! I dabbled, I admit, but it was so I could be powerful enough to protect you. To protect us!"

Kathryn stepped forward. "Jowan, stop this madness. You've gone too far!" Kathryn allowed her magic to flow into her hands, the flesh beginning to glow red as a fireball spat itself into existence at her beckoning. "I was helping a friend, not a Maleficar!"

But Jowan was more concerned with Lily's rejection of him. There were now tears in his eyes as he tried approaching her, blood soaked and hands held out in a placating manner. "Lily, I meant for this to help us..!" But Lily was having none of it. The magic building in Kathryn's hands garnered Jowan's attention and with a gesture of his bleeding hand he created his own fireball, one that impacted with Kathryn and sent her careening into a nearby wall. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air as did Kathryn's short, jagged scream of pain. Like a cornered animal Jowan stared around at the Templars rising, and then at his beloved Lily.

"Lily-" But Lily turned away from him, an enraged howl leaving her lips.

"Maker forgive me," Lily whispered, her arms wrapping about her torso tightly. The last Kathryn saw was Jowan disappearing in a cloud of red, obviously teleporting away, a skill that he would have picked up from studying Blood Magic. The knowledge that she had helped a Maleficar escape from the Tower and without a Phylactery to allow them to find him hit her full force just as she blacked out, quite aware that her life was bleeding out onto the floor.

---

There was pain, darkness, and voices.

I have done all that I can for her. Creation Magic can only heal to a certain point, as you well know. I have stopped the bleeding and healed the surface damage, but what lies beneath, the damage remains. It is up to her to recover.

Irving, I hope you do realise you are responsible for this... this travesty! You should never have given her such responsibility, she is reckless, she disregards authority...! You should have known that she would have betrayed the Chantry.

Gregior, I am sure that Kathryn did not know of Jowan being a Blood Mage. She was simply doing what she felt was right.

Through the haze of darkness and pain, Kathryn became aware that the conversation was about her, spoken not too far away even though the voices were dull and muted. She felt like she was under the surface of a cold lake, and she shivered slightly, but made no other movements. Her body ached, particularly in her torso and a patch of her neck, chin and right cheek. It was several minutes later that she managed to open her eyes, to the sight of the Knight-Commander, First Enchanter, a mage and Duncan standing beside her bed. Her stormy eyed gaze instantly settled on Irving.

"First Enchanter," She croaked out, watching as the older man looked down at her with a relieved expression.

"You are awake." He let out a quiet sigh of relief and smiled. "You worried us, Kathryn."

"Jowan...?"

Irving sobered, and Gregior stepped in. "He's escaped. And thanks to you, we can't track him down."

Not used to apologising for any error, Kathryn merely stared at him for several long moments. "It was not my intention to assist a Maleficar in escaping."

"Nevertheless, Jowan is now roaming the countryside. Thankfully, we have Lily. She has been sent to Aeonar for her punishment. Like you should be." Irving leveled a glare at the Knight-Commander.

"Kathryn was used in this as much as Lily was. You can't tell me that you're going to-"

"This... mage," Gregior positively spat the word, "has helped a Maleficar escape the Circle Tower! He is a danger to our society, and she has undermined the Chantry's authority and the rules that we all abide by. You cannot save her from her fate just because she was going to replace you one day, Irving!"

"But I can." Duncan spoke up, finally. Kathryn turned her head to face him, regretting that decision when the room began to spin.

"Stay out of this, Warden. You have no business in this matter."

"First Enchanter Irving was correct in his first assessment, Knight-Commander. I am here to retrieve more mages of the King's Army, but I am also here as Commander of the Warden's, to recruit more members. Kathryn has demonstrated skills and traits the Grey Warden's need."

"This is an outrage! Irving, stop this madness. This Mage should be punished for assisting the Maleficar!"

Kathryn had enough. She pushed her hands against the bed and forced herself into a sitting position, eyes leveling a force ten glare on the men infront of her. "I am here. You can stop talking about me as if in the third person. It was my choice to help Jowan-"

She was cut off by Irving holding up a hand, forestalling her comment. "It was your choice, yes. But you do not deserve to be sent to Aeonar because of it."

Kathryn was about to retort that she had accepted the consequences of her actions and wasn't about to run away from the responsibility when Gregior piped up once more. "The Rite of Tranquility, then?" Gregior said, obviously taking great joy in this. Kathryn narrowed her eyes at the man despite the pain she was in, deadly threat written within the powerful orbs. Surely it wasn't illegal if she removed his limbs after forcing them to contract gangrene... Thankfully, Duncan intervened.

"I would prefer to offer Kathryn a place with the Grey Wardens." Ignoring the Knight-Commander, he turned and faced Kathryn, looking intently into her eyes. She took in his own, expressive dark ones, understanding dawning upon her. There was hope in his eyes, something which if she had to guess, been devoid of for a long time.

It was either the Rite of Tranquility, Aeonar or becoming a Grey Warden. Kathryn turned her eyes to Irving, who did not look optimistic, and Gregior, who was practically screaming for justice to be done. "I accept, Duncan. I'll become a Grey Warden."

Gregior closed his eyes angrily before straightening. "I hope you're happy, Irving." He spat before turning on his heel and leaving the Infirmary.

Kathryn raised an eyebrow as Irving let out a long sigh, sitting down next to her. "It would appear that you have made an enemy in Gregior, Kathryn."

"That would be an understatement. He wants me dead."

"That will not happen, Kathryn," Said a familiar voice, one that made her sit up.

"Tuvok!" As soon as he approached, Kathryn rested a hand on his arm, glad to see him. "It is so good to see you."

"As it is good to see you, Kathryn. You have been close to death several times over the past two days."

"It has been that long?"

"Yes. Which is why we must leave immediately," Duncan said, frowning slightly. "Yet in your condition I worry if you would survive the trip to Ostagar."

Tuvok straightened and raised his angular eyebrows. "I will accompany Kathryn to Ostagar as her assistance."

"Tuvok, that's unnecessary, I can walk by myself."

"You sustained significant damage to your body, Kathryn. It is inadvisable for you to do more by exerting yourself in such a fashion. For two days out of the four day march to Ostagar, you will be healing, and should you become over-exerted by the March you will need someone to support you. Your security is of the utmost importance. I will resign my posting as Templar, if need be."

"Whatever you decide, Kathryn, we must leave immediately."

Kathryn stared at them all, shock setting into her. The past few days had taken a great toll on her, and she raised her hands to her face in exasperation. After several long seconds she raised her eyes to regard the three people surrounding her, two of which who had been her guides, mentors, and in Tuvok's case, friend since she was a small girl. "I hate to make you leave everything you've made for yourself here, my friend." She told him with sad eyes.

"It is no sacrifice, Kathryn. I would be going on to do greater. Being guardian of a Grey Warden is the ultimate honour... even if a little redundant. You have proven through the Harrowing that you can take care of yourself. I will merely be your crutch for a little while. There is no doubt in my mind," he said in a tone that surprised her, filled with warmth despite his stoic features, "of whether or not I accompany you."

Kathryn grasped his hand tightly in one of her own, frowning when she noted how weak her grasp was. "We should leave immediately." Tuvok gave her a calm nod before departing from the room, intent to prepare both his and her possessions – possessions which, she thought slightly amusing despite the situation, were still packed into her duffel bag, sitting on her bed in her quarters. Irving sat with her for a few moments, as if expecting something. "I won't say I'm sorry for not informing you of Jowan's intentions, First Enchanter, nor will I apologise for supporting him."

"I haven't expected you to."

"I did what I felt was right. I couldn't sit by and watch him be made Tranquil when I could do something to stop it." Irving nodded and they sat in silence for a few minutes. "Where is Mark?" She quietly questioned.

"He was sent to Denerim yesterday to the Wonders of Thedas. They needed a mage to oversee some new stock that was brought in from Orlais."

For some reason Kathryn didn't find that surprising. She also found that she wasn't too disappointed or upset that she wouldn't see him for quite some time, depending on her duties of being a Grey Warden. A Grey Warden. She tasted the word in her mind, finding it sit well with her. As a Grey Warden, she could aid people, use her abilities for the betterment of mankind. Figuring she had enough sitting down, Kathryn grit her teeth and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, taking a moment before standing to prepare herself. Irving had a gentle hand on her bicep and assisted her in standing. The movement felt like it took forever and it hurt like nothing she'd ever felt before. Still, through pure strength of will, Kathryn remained standing. She slowly padded her way over to a nearby chair where her robe lay singed and burnt. She was currently wearing a light blue robe, one meant to facilitate the healing process and she knew she'd require new robes. Strangely, though, her mind was occupied with the picture that she had placed in the breast pocket of her robe. She searched for it and let out a quiet sigh of relief, to her immense surprise, that it had survived. She didn't understand the connection that she held to the portrait and although her feelings frightened her, she couldn't bring herself to discard the portrait.

"I will need some new robes." She said authoritatively, a tone which the First Enchanter looked on fondly at.

"Of course, Kathryn." The old wise Mage turned his head and gestured for some new robes to be brought forth. Even as her tired eyes focused on the robes, Kathryn knew that these were special. These robes were made entirely out of cloth, woven and embroidered in the most caring of ways by an obviously talented robemaker. The material was light and the colour white, that she could tell. When it was in her hands she unfolded it and stared in disbelief as these fabled robes that the hero mage Kara wore in the ancient days of the Tevinter Imperium revealed themselves, the material belying the magical strength hidden within the folds. The neckline delved towards her cleavage, developing into a bodice held together by carefully knitted ties. The material then divulged into skirt which split revealing a black underskirt. The top half also bore a type of hood which she knew would lay partly over her shoulders and down part of her back, connected to the top of the bodice. The sleeves appeared to extend down to the elbow before flaring out. The dress was extremely decorative, but if knowledge served Kathryn correctly, this dress and their two other counterparts were extremely powerful. Accompanying this was a pair of knee high black boots, something which made Kathryn raise her eyebrows. At her look Irving quietly chuckled. "It was my intention to give these robes to you, Kathryn, and I regret that it is under these circumstances. You are, however, a Grey Warden, and you will need all the protection you can get. They don't look like much, but these robes helped Kara through scores of battles during the Tevinter Imperium. May they serve you as well as they did her."

"Thank you, First Enchanter." Kathryn whispered as she took hold of the robes, eyes hardening with the duty before her. "You honour me with this gift. I will not let you down."

Suddenly the old man looked hopelessly defeated and tired. Wondering why, Kathryn's brow furrowed. Did he know something she didn't? "I'm sure." Irving said before turning to move away. "I will leave you some peace now, Kathryn, and I will see you off as you leave." With that the old man, including Duncan left, leaving her to her own devices.

Sitting on the bed heavily, she reviewed the past four days, or at least, the parts where she had been conscious. She had been preparing for her Harrowing, then encountering the demon in the Void. Then there was this issue with Jowan and the Darkspawn threat. The fact that Jowan, a Blood Mage, was now a threat crossed her mind and she wondered that if in the near future she'd have to execute him. That was, if she ever found him again. She let out a quiet sigh and ran her hands through her hair before stripping from the medical robe they had placed her in. With a gasp, Kathryn took in the damage that had been done to her body.

Her skin was a bright, bright red, covering all over her torso. There was a section of it on her left thigh and another peeking up past her collarbone and up the right hand side of her neck. Looking into the mirror, she realised that the right hand part of her face had also suffered damage. Thankfully, despite the severity of the burns, Kathryn knew that they wouldn't scar. Part of the damage had been healed, like Creation Magic and healing did. Such as if she had gotten a broken leg, the Creation Magic would heal it, but it wouldn't fix all of the damage. She would need rest in order to heal, and Kathryn knew with the healing poultices she'd be taking with her on the trip to Ostagar would facilitate her healing. She should be alright by the time they reached Ostagar. Hopefully.

She quickly pulled the white robedress on, surprised to find that the bodice was actually enchanted to appear like a true corset – in reality, it was like the rest of the material, fluid. Her range of movement was much more than it was in her normal robes. The magical nature of the robes meant it shrank to surround her rather meager offering, and she looked down in consternation when she realised that the robes pushed her breasts up. Really now! Despite herself, she was smiling and without hesitation she picked up her precious staff and slid it into the holster on the robes, eyebrows raising as the black clasps magically clamped around the wooden staff. She then pulled on the large boots, amused when they too shrank to fill her diminutive size. According to reports, Kara had not only been taller than her, but also larger. The robedress now tailored itself to her needs. Ready, Kathryn spared herself a look in the nearby mirror atop the vanity, taking in a deep breath when she saw her fiery gaze. Sitting atop a nearby drawer lay her pendant, pure gold surrounding a ruby on a black leather cord. She honestly had no idea how she had come by it, other than it had been with her when she arrived at the Tower of Magic some twenty years ago. She only knew that she couldn't be without it. She picked it up and pulled the cord over her head, the pendant settling weightlessly against her chest. She took it in her hands, studying it for a few moments before shoving it into her cleavage, hiding it from view.

"Kathryn," Duncan acknowledged her presence when she approached them outside of the infirmary, his eyes appraising her acceptingly, taking in that her hair had now been fastidiously brushed. She gave him her own smile, before focusing on First Enchanter Irving.

"It looks like this will be the last time I see you for a while, First Enchanter."

"It does." Irving said sadly. "It is a comfort that you will be doing great things." Kathryn bowed her head in respect to him, noticing that Tuvok was now approaching. He had removed his Templar armour and opted for black leather. She was quite aware of his dislike of the Templar armour, preferring the armour that the Dalish wore; light cloths and leathers. He had much more manoeuvrability this way, and that was how he liked it. Strapped across his back was his large broadsword and in his belt rested his longsword Reisende and a shortsword. The Dalish Elves were very strict in their training and Kathryn knew that Tuvok was highly versed in how to use the large sword across his back as well as the two on his belt. Kathryn was sure that if she handed him a bow and arrow he'd probably be just as deadly with that, too. He had taken to training her in the use of swords, recently, but that was mostly because of her own curiosity than any actual imperative to defend herself in such a manner. For that, she had her precious fireballs.

"I am ready for the journey, Kathryn." Tuvok said as he approached, making Kathryn smile wanly.

"You do not have to do this, my friend."

"On the contrary," The large Elf said as he raised an eyebrow, perhaps as he took in what she was wearing, "it is imperative that I, like before, be your guide and your protector."

Kathryn laid a hand on his shoulder, pleased that he would follow her. "You have been of wonderful assistance to me, Tuvok. Despite our shaky beginning." She quietly chuckled. "I am honoured that you would accompany me on this." The diminutive redhead with stormy eyes turned to face Duncan, carefully measuring him up. "I'm ready, Duncan. Let us go to Ostagar."

As they left the Mages tower, a party of three with small escort to the boat leading from the island, Kathryn turned to view the tower one last time. As she did, her eyes focused onto a black shadow, large, looming beside the far side of the tower entrance, concealed from sight. She watched as it blinked, and was shocked to see two intelligent crisp blue eyes stare at her intently, eyes that she could have sworn she knew. She felt like she was being judged and analysed by the shadow. After several long moments the shadow moved forward slightly to reveal a wet snout, before disappearing back into the shadows, leaving a shocked and perplexed Kathryn to wonder at just what had occurred. Gaining control of herself once more though she was chilled to the bone by the ice cold glare in those menacing eyes, Kathryn stepped into the boat that she had stepped into – albeit kicking and screaming – over twenty years ago. She looked back towards the Tower just in time to see a large black bird take flight from it's place on a tree, swooping low and grazing it's claws in the water before moving back up again, turning south, where she herself was heading.

---

The Tevinter Imperium built Ostagar long ago to prevent the Wilders from invading the northern lowlands. It's fitting we make our stand here, even if we face a different foe within that forest. The King's forces have clashed with the Darkspawn several times, but here is where the bulk of the horde will show itself. There are only a few Grey Wardens within Ferelden at the moment, but all of us are here. This Blight must be stopped here and now. If it spreads to the north, Ferelden will fall.

The trip to Ostagar took as long as Duncan estimated – four days. Four long days while Kathryn attempted to heal from being attacked by Jowan while marching at award winning pace towards Lothering and along the Imperial Highway to Ostagar. Normally, for the healing duration she would have been kept in bed at the Tower Circle, but as she was now a Grey Warden recruit with an impending Blight looming over their heads, waiting for her to recover was just something that could not happen. They did not have that luxury. Over the four day trip, Kathryn healed well yet became increasingly irritable as she relied on her staff for a more mundane use as a walking stick, and then eventually as she relied on Tuvok to assist on keeping her upright, despite her protestations.

Over the course of their trip, Kathryn stared out at the world in wonder and amazement. She had seen the world from afar using a convalescence, and on the odd occasion while they required a large training ground (particularly when Kathryn began experimenting with her fireballs). She had memories of the outside world while she was a child, but they were few and far between, being such a long time ago and a time she'd rather forget as well as the more recent times being completely controlled by the Chantry Templars. She had of course read about the world outside of the influence of the Chantry and the Tower, seeing as the tower had a large library (larger than the one in Denerim), but reading about something was completely different to experiencing it. Yet, her first forays into the world beyond Chantry control were done with the utmost professionalism... even if when she turned around she could sometimes see a black wolf stalking her from the shadows with that same, cold ice blue gaze that she swore she should know.

Strangely, those eyes she regarded felt like they were protecting her. Or perhaps that was just what she wished it were, and not a predator gauging when best to pounce. Tuvok had been silent for most of the exhausting trip, approaching her when needed and in the most dire of circumstances insisting that Kathryn be aided, despite all of her own insistence otherwise. Duncan, on the other hand, brought her up to speed on the situation in the war against the Blight, of how King Cailans army had already had two victories against the Darkspawn yet the numbers of the horde were increasing each day. On the fourth and final day of their march, Kathryn was completely healed as Ostagar loomed over them, an impressive display of human ingenuity and Elven slaves, Kathryn thought bitterly, eyes flickering guiltily over toward Tuvok. She had seen the sneering looks the townspeople of Lothering threw Tuvok's way, and although Tuvok didn't react, Kathryn most certainly found it appalling. Ever since the Exalted March on the Dales, the Elves second homeland, Elves had been subjugated and treated worse than slaves. There were two groups living within Ferelden. The unfortunate souls living within the Elven Alienage within Denerim, slaves to the human populace and then there were the Dalish Elves which had no permanent location, living within landships that traversed the plains and stopping whenever they needed, purely nomadic. From what little Kathryn knew of Tuvok's background, she knew he had been a Dalish Elf and circumstances brought him to becoming a Templar and to the Mages Tower, although the details of that had never been explained. Tuvok, Kathryn sensed, was an incredibly private person and despite being close friends with him, she decided that she wouldn't ask unneeded questions and possibly cause the older man discomfort. She rested a hand on his arm and he turned to look at her, offering her his silent reassurance. With Ostagar looming ahead, Kathryn wondered why her heart wasn't leaping into her chest, why she wasn't terrified. Was it Tuvok's presence, the knowledge that he'd keep her safe...? Or was it the blue eyed wolf that had stalked her from the mages tower? Or was it, perhaps, a belief in her own abilities that were under her command?

"It's smaller than I expected," Kathryn remarked dryly, earning a raised eyebrow from both Duncan and Tuvok, the former of which laughed quietly, to her great relief, being of the opinion that the man had the weight of the world on his shoulders, needlessly. At that moment, three men approached. Sensing Duncan's sudden tensing, Kathryn gathered that these three people were important. Indeed, she thought as she raked her eyes up and down the three who were outfitted in expensive well made metal armour. The two men flanking the middle's armour were silver, while the blonde haired blue eyed man in the middle bore gold armour, and a cocky grin.

"Duncan!" King Cailan greeted them, striding up to them with all the bravado in the world. "It is great to see you again. And is this the new recruit you sent news about?" King Cailan said, eyes turning to inspect Kathryn who in turn nodded her head in acknowledgement before regarding him in the same way he regarded her. The man grinned and moved over towards her, towering over her in his large, bulky armour. "Duncan was singing praises of you. Fastest Harrowing, I believe he said?"

"That is correct, my liege. This is Kathryn Elerya Jarwin and from what Irving has said, is a force to be reckoned with."

"That I can see!" King Cailan said good naturedly, a smile on his face as he regarded her. "And is this your...?"

"This is Tuvok," Kathryn said, motioning to the man in question beside her. "He's my closest friend and demanded he accompany me here." It was not lost on her that King Cailan had assumed that Tuvok was her slave, not her friend. The look that flashed across the King's face meant that he realised he had made a faux pas, but he accepted her deflection from his mistake graciously, smile once again in full force.

"Kathryn had been gravely wounded by an Apprentice, your majesty. It was either wait for her to recover or have assistance." Duncan offered as an explanation, although Kathryn doubted that it had needed it.

King Cailan smiled gratefully, however. "I am glad that you are here, the both of you. Although at the way things are going now, I doubt you'll get much in the way of action."

"We're winning against the Darkspawn?" Kathryn asked, her eyebrows shooting up.

"It seems that way," King Cailan said. "We've won two battles against the Darkspawn and there hasn't been any sign of an Archdemon." The King let out a wistful sigh, glancing off to the right towards the landscape.

"You sound disappointed, my liege." Duncan said wryly.

"I wanted a War like in the tales!" King Cailan said, making Kathryn's eyebrows soar higher. Was this man really talking about wanting a war? "The valiant king and his intrepid army, fighting against insurmountable evil and triumphing!" Kathryn felt her jaw drop. What? For some reason she thought King Cailan would have been more grave about the situation... Apparently not, she thought as she watched him sigh and shrug, shaking his head. "Oh well, this will have to do. At least I have the mighty Duncan at my side, at last."

"My liege, we should think about the possible presence of an Archdemon within the horde."

"Nonsense. Our scouting parties would have detected such in their trips into the Korcari Wilds. I don't think this is a real Blight at all." Kathryn watched as the young man grinned and moved to stand infront of Duncan as she exchanged a brief worried look with Tuvok. "Well, I better head back to my tent. Undoubtedly Chakotay is at his wits end and about to send out the search parties."

"Teyrn Chakotay is only worried for your safety, your highness." Duncan said, frowning as the King waved him off.

"Teyrn Chakotay seeks only to bore me with his strategies. Nevertheless, I must comply." Cailan let out an exaggerated sigh before turning his head to smile at Kathryn, who likewise smiled back, yet hers was significantly more forced. Was this truly the man that was governing their country? Should she be worried? She knew she shouldn't, seeing as Ferelden was in a virtual state of peace apart from the Darkspawn invasion... King Cailan and Queen Anora were running the country with ease. However, Kathryn hadn't expected the King to be so... child-like. He was older than she was, she was sure! "I am afraid, my lady, that our conversation is to be cut short." He tutted quietly. "But duty calls, and as I hear it you're going to be busy yourself soon. Tomorrow will be the day where we crush the Darkspawn and end this blight. I am just glad you both made it here in time." The man then suddenly sobered and gently rested his hands upon her shoulders, something that surprised her given his status and the fact that the metal must have made the gesture awkward. Looking up into his eyes, she could tell that the King was worried about something – a great change from how he had appeared before. "I hope to see you again, later." The King bowed his head respectfully to Tuvok who returned the gesture in kind, before turning and leaving quickly.

"Curious man," Kathryn observed. "I had expected him to be... a lot more serious, considering the circumstances."

Duncan let out a quiet sigh. "That is just how King Cailan is. Despite that, he's a brilliant leader and a brilliant King." He stared at the back of the dignified man, still flanked by two soldiers, before shaking his head. "Walk with me." He spoke to Kathryn and Tuvok before walking in the direction of the King, towards the Gates of Ostagar. "The King doesn't believe that this is a real Blight. But the Grey Wardens know otherwise."

"According to my research, Blights only occur if and when a Archdemon is present. For a Blight to occur, there must be a significant Darkspawn army, which from what you have told me, this appears to be."

Duncan nodded. "I cannot say how we know, not yet, but the Grey Wardens know for a fact that an Archdemon is behind this. Even if the King refuses to entertain that possibility, the Grey Wardens will be ready, which is why it is even more imperative that you undergo The Joining as soon as possible."

"The Joining?"

Duncan's expression hardened for a few moments before he spoke, his eyes betraying an intense dislike – for what, Kathryn couldn't fathom. "The Joining is what each potential Grey Warden must go through in order to be able to defeat the Darkspawn. Only Grey Wardens can fulfil this duty and drive a Blight away." Kathryn nodded in understanding, her eyes roaming the massive stone spires of Ostagar as they drew closer to the gates.

"What must I do for this joining?"

"We have two other Grey Warden recruits, Ser Jory and Daveth within Ostagar – they will be undergoing the Joining with you. Why don't you find them and bring them to me. I'll be by the Grey Warden tents. While you're at it, find Alistair. He'll be accompanying you as you prepare. He should be in the South-Eastern part of Ostagar." He bowed his head respectfully to Kathryn, crossing his wrists over his chest in a sign of respect before turning to leave.

"Thank you, Duncan," Kathryn called after him, watching him as he moved away. Still, the man moved with the weight of the world on his shoulders and when it didn't abate, she wondered if that weight would ever leave at all. She hefted a sigh, knowing that she truly was thankful to him. If he hadn't offered to make her a Grey Warden, by either offering it to her or invoking the Rite of Conscription, then she could well have been sent to Aeonar or worse – made Tranquil. Aiding a Maleficar was a serious offence, and curse her luck it had to happen the day after her Harrowing. She smoothed down her robedress before turning to face Tuvok. "Well. We have much to do and less time to do it in. I suggest we find this Ser Jory, Daveth and Alistair quickly."

With that, the two set off through the gates and down the steps to cross the large bridge, their leather boots making soft whispering sounds against each other and barely any sound against the stone. Not forgetting the haunted expression written on not only the King's face as he regarded her, but Duncan's face, Kathryn turned to Tuvok as they walked. "Do you know why King Cailan said 'I hope to see you again, later'?" Kathryn frowned slightly. "There's something going on here, but I can't put my finger on it."

"Perhaps it is because you will not get a chance to see him until after the battle tomorrow," Tuvok supposed, dark eyes locked on her. "He could be worried that you might perish in the battle. However that is pure conjecture."

Kathryn raised an eyebrow at the man. "What, you think I won't perish to the Darkspawn horde?"

"I believe it unlikely, Kathryn. After all, I am here to protect you." Tuvok said allowing as much of a smirk as possible onto his face without actually using any muscles. His eyes twinkled at her slightly before returning to their usual stoney-ness. She wouldn't have caught his teasing of her if she didn't know him as well as she did. It made her bark out a loud laugh and thread an arm through one of his, patting his hand cheerfully despite being no more than a kilometer from an army vastly outnumbering their own.

"Oh, Tuvok, I am glad you are here with me." Kathryn said as they ventured into the army camp, the smell of potions, magic and fire rising up to greet them as they moved together. Tuvok of course didn't reply, nor did he approve of her stealing his arm but he didn't extricate it. "We should find Alistair, first. He might be able to help us locate Ser Jory and Daveth."

"That would be a most prudent course of action," Tuvok agreed. "Duncan did mention that Alistair would most likely be in the South-East of Ostagar. We should concentrate our search there."

Without delay the duo made their way through the camp with Kathryn and Tuvok observing their surroundings. The Ostagar camp was filled with the sounds of training, soldiers practicing their art and honing their skills. Two large, brutish men were sparring with wooden swords, stripped down to incredibly short leather shorts, muscles bulging, causing both Kathryn's and Tuvok's eyebrows to shoot up into their hairlines. The men were incredibly sweaty, dirty and filthy... and half way through a swing one dived at the other and... began wrestling? A slow grin spread across Kathryn's face as she watched the two soldiers attempt to lighten the atmosphere and successfully – their spectators laughing at the spectacle of the two men wrestling in the mud. Turning away from that was a more sombre scene of soldiers bowing before a Priestess giving platitudes of the Maker.

Do not fear Death. Do not feel Death as a Failure. In your Death you serve the Maker, and the Maker smiles upon you.

With a sigh they continued on before Kathryn suddenly came to a stop infront of a mage, one that she recognised. "Kes!" The young woman with blonde hair and elfin face looked up from her potionmaking, a smile on her face as she recognised Kathryn's throaty timbre. She was slighter in stature than Kathryn, being all arms and legs. She had been a Circle mage for four years and often worked with the Apprentices as a teacher, teaching Creation Magic and Alchemy – both of which she taught Kathryn in. Kes, Kathryn knew, was significantly older than she looked, being about fifty four despite looking close to twenty. Kathryn had always wondered how that was possible, when Kes had revealed her story one late night studying.

I come from a place further than Orlais. The small woman whispered, moving the lengthened locks of hair from around her ears away for Kathryn to see a slight elongation of the ear. I am half-elf. To the Orlesians, we are Ashrax. To the Fereldens, we are Ocampa. The woman then went on to explain that although she had longevity, she was also considerably weaker than either an Elf or a Human. But it was the reason for why the woman was fifty four years old and looked as young, if not younger, than her. At one point, Kathryn thought she should have felt envious. It looked like eternal youth. But even then, Kathryn couldn't bring herself to be jealous of the wonderfully gentle, kind soul that was Kes. The knowledge that her descent into old age would be far from pleasant made Kathryn wonder who really was the fortunate one.

"Kathryn!" The young looking woman dropped what she was doing and moved over to hug Kathryn tightly. Kes was slightly shorter than Kathryn, but held a heart just as big. With a wide smile she regarded Tuvok over Kathryn's shoulder, her smile increasing. "Oh, Tuvok!" The young looking woman moved out of the hug and held Kathryn at arms length. "You're wearing the Triad Robes," Kes whispered proudly. "Irving must have been very proud of you to part with those."

"So everyone's been saying," Kathryn quipped, earning a laugh from the smaller woman. "I knew they sent you away a few weeks ago, but I didn't think it would be here! You're on the front lines?"

Kes blushed mightily. "No, no, I'm just making poultices for the men. They can keep you going in a battle and they can help heal a man from wounds even if they won't bring you back from the brink of death, but that's about all I'm here for. You remember my attempts at Primal Magic, don't you?"

Kathryn laughed, not unkindly. "They were no worse than mine, Kes. I did set a lot of things on fire in my time!"

A sad look crossed Kes' face before she smiled down into her cauldron, returning to stirring. "Yes, I do remember. In fact, I remember First Enchanter Irving bearing the brunt of a lot of your mishaps." Kes glanced up, quirking a slight blonde eyebrow, a soft smile spread across her face as usual. "I heard about Jowan." She said, frowning slightly. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't know."

"You know, I keep telling myself that but I did choose to help Jowan. No matter how it turned out, it was still my responsibility." Kathryn inclined her head. "I am thankful that Duncan stepped in and recruited me. Who knows what would have happened, especially with Greagior demanding my head?"

Kes nodded sagely. She knew too knew that Greagior had a fairly low opinion of mages and took his job incredibly seriously – perhaps too seriously, treating the mages like cattle. A low keening interrupted their subdued atmosphere, and Kathryn's head shot up.

"Is that a dog wailing?"

"Mabari," Kes corrected. "Suffering from Darkspawn taint. A few of our men are suffering too. But they die faster than Mabari. I wonder who's more fortune, a Mabari that has a chance at living but days of agonizing pain or a man who dies within hours." The young woman sighed before moving towards another cauldron, looking thoroughly over-worked. "We've been trying everything we know. I've tried all types of poultices, balms, and anti-poisons, but nothing seems to work."

"Poor thing sounds like he's in a lot of pain." Kathryn whispered.

"Yes it is. I did hear the Penmaster mention that he was offering a reward to anyone that brought him a special type of weed. It's the one thing we haven't tried, and for good reason."

"Let me guess. It's in the Korcari Wilds."

"Darkspawn laden Korcari Wilds," Kes sighed, wiping her hands down on her robes. "The Darkspawn are everywhere. The Wilds are normally dangerous enough without the Darkspawn, but now it's just suicide to even contemplate entering them!"

"I'm sure something can be done for the dog, though." Kathryn murmured, thinking quietly. She had an affinity for such creatures, being companionable creatures. One of the Human Nobles that had arrived at the Tower a few years ago had a Mabari Hound that persistently would not leave the Tower. Irving had relented and allowed the hound to remain, and thankfully, that human noble had been in Kathryn's dorm while she was an Apprentice. She had loved the hound, and found that she loved dogs as well. "I will see what I can do." Woman on a mission, Kathryn made her way towards the dogpens, quickly gaining the attention of the kennelmaster. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Are you going into the Wilds any time soon?" The man replied, face set into a massive frown.

"Not that I know of, but if I do I'll keep an eye out – what do you need me to look for? Kes over there mentioned a weed?"

"It's not a weed!" The man said, rolling his eyes. "It's mistaken for one because it's resilient, but they're few and far between, hard to come across. It's a flower with white petals darkening to red in the middle. Some of the Chasind and Ash Warriors have stories where one of their Mabari ate one of these flowers and survived the Taint."

"I'll keep a look out for it if I ever go out there," Kathryn promised. "Is there anything I can do now?"

"Well, I'd do it myself but the hound doesn't want anyone near him. He needs to be muzzled or he'll hurt himself." Kathryn stood on her tiptoes to peer over the fence of the pen, eyes softening as she took in the suffering dog. The dog's fur was matted in blood, a paw in it's mouth as it curled up, whimpering and screeching loudly when it bit into it's own flesh.

"Let me have a try," Kathryn murmured before stepping into the pen, moving incredibly slowly. "Easy, boy." Kathryn held her hands out, letting the dog see that they were empty. The Mabari, although growling at her, gazed up at Kathryn with almost terrified eyes. She could see black blood dried in the fur surrounding the poor dog's mouth, and wondered at the acrid stench arising from the beast. "I'm here to help. It's alright." The Mabari gazed up at her, almost intelligently, eyes locking. Without making any quick or sudden movements, Kathryn reached her hand out to have the muzzle given to her by the kennel master. She held it for the dogs inspection before reaching one hand forward, placing the palm against the large dog's forehead, a gentle movement to gauge whether the dog would attack or not. When the dog backed down, whimpering quietly, Kathryn slid her hand down the side of it's face and stroked it's cheek before pushing it's face into the muzzle, tightening the straps around the dogs mouth. As if aware of it's impending fate, the dog gave a quiet whimper before settling down in the pen as if resigning itself to it's fate.

"Golly," The kennel master murmured as Kathryn exited the pen, "I ain't seen him calm down for anyone like that. You have a way with the beasts!" A comment to which Kathryn only shrugged.

"I promise you both, if I venture out to the Korcari Wilds, I will not rest until I find this flower." She bowed her head respectfully to the man who in turn crossed his wrists over his chest to her, bowing low. Both she and Tuvok then resumed their journey, moving towards the south-east. They passed a group of mages, their bodies partly incorporeal as they chanted. This sight was familiar to her. The mages were partly in the Fade, conversing with benevolent spirits. Most Fereldens thought that the Fade consisted only of demons, but Kathryn knew differently – the Fade also contained helpful spirits, all though they were much rarer than the malevolent spirits that constantly attempted to cross the Veil through a Mage's body – which was why Mages had to undergo the Harrowing or be made Tranquil. According to the Chantry.

As they walked past the mages, Kathryn felt an unpleasant chill go down her spine. It wasn't uncommon for a Mage soon after their Harrowing to be nervous of the Fade, but the nervous chill that swept over Kathryn served only to annoy her. She had been handpicked by Irving and she had been chosen to be a Grey Warden by the Warden-Commander himself. Surely, if she could venture into the Fade and defeat a demon there she would have no trouble walking past a few mages that were only half through the Fade, only barely piercing the Veil. They passed by the mages and headed up a ramp, encountering a mage arguing with what looked to be a soldier. Kathryn and Tuvok moved closer, curious, listening to the argument as it increased in volume.

"I was sent by the Revered Mother to request your council, Ser Mage, not to cause a scene." The young blonde haired man said, raising his hands in a motion of surrender.

"And I'm sure she meant the insult in sending you to deliver this message." The Mage spat, making Kathryn raise her eyebrows and place her hands on her hips indignantly. Really, now. This was just childish!

Not noticing the two, the soldier huffed. "Here I thought we were getting along so well! I was going to name one of my children after you – the grumpy one."

"You have no business requisitioning more of my mages! And I will tell the esteemed Mother that, myself!" The Mage sneered at the soldier unkindly before storming off in a most undignified manner.

Finally, the soldier seemed to notice the two. "Isn't it wonderful how a Blight brings us all together? Stirs the warm feelings."

Kathryn raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Just a joke." The young blonde looked Kathryn up and down and taking in her dressrobe, his own eyebrows raising. "You're a Mage?" He groaned. "Let me guess, you're here to tell me further of my own incompetence. Or perhaps you're here to gloat?"

Blinking, Kathryn studied the man dressed in what appeared to be splintmail armour, brown in colour. "I assure you, neither." She fixed him with her best stare. "I am Kathryn Elerya Jarwin, Circle Mage... and as of four days ago a Grey Warden recruit."

"Oh! That's right! Duncan sent word that he'd found a recruit at the Mages Tower." He grinned boyishly at Kathryn before extending his hand. "The name's Alistair. I'm a Grey Warden and I'll be guiding you through your joining." His hair unkept and his eyes twinkling with mischief, Kathryn wondered if this man was truly a Grey Warden. Surely, they would be more disciplined, right? Keeping her thoughts to herself, although she could tell her guardian Tuvok was not impressed, Kathryn gave Alistair a broad smile.

"Well then, Alistair, it is nice to meet you." She bowed her head to him respectfully before motioning towards the direction where the mage had retreated. "What was that all about?"

"Oh, just the Chantry and Mages having a shouting match and dragging me into it. Doesn't help that I was a Templar," this made Tuvok's eyebrows rise up into his hair line, something which made Kathryn chuckle quietly, "before I was a Grey Warden and the Chantry just loves to involve me in this pissing contest." He shrugged in his armour. "I honestly don't understand why they don't work together and be civil. There are greater things to worry about."

Kathryn nodded sagely. "In which case, Alistair, we should get moving. I still have to find Ser Jory and Daveth, but... Duncan neglected to tell me what they looked like."

"Well that's easy," Alistair said with a soft smile. "I'll take you to them and we'll go to Duncan together. By the way," He slapped Kathryn on the back, his eyebrows raising when she stumbled forward slightly. "Welcome to Ostagar."

"Yes, thank you, Alistair," Kathryn murmured as she straightened herself, inclining her head towards the camp. "Let's get this done."

Half an hour later, Kathryn, Alistair and Tuvok sat around a roaring fire piled high with logs, Alistair conversing with two other men. One was a large brute of a man, head round and hair clipped short. He looked a bit dazed half the time, but from what Kathryn understood, he was an accomplished fighter. Ser Jory sat alone on a block of wood yet close enough to be included in the conversation. He sat awkwardly, back ramrod straight and legs out. Then again, the man was wearing massive plate armour. From the small amount of conversation she had with the man, he was apparently a Knight of Arl Eamon's with a wife in Highever. He had been invited to join the Grey Wardens when Duncan witnessed the man deal with a highly organised group of bandits by himself. Yet, Kathryn frowned as she thought to herself, he wears armour that would be highly impossible to move in. He can't sit down let alone run or dodge in combat. The other man, Daveth was much more sensible wearing a mixture of leathers and chain, baring a bow on his back and two short swords on his belt. His hair was black and unkempt, his eyes wild with the thought of adventure. He had been living on the streets of Denerim, so was his story before Duncan found him, and he had jumped at the chance of doing something for Ferelden. They had swapped these stories readily between each other, until it came up to Kathryn's past. For some reason, she wasn't comfortable divulging it, despite how proud she was of her achievements. Assisting a Maleficar had soured the good she had done, in her eyes and she didn't like to think of it. But still she plugged on, telling them of how she had been brought to the Tower of Magi when she was very young, how she was trained as a Mage and excelled in her field, garnering an interest from the First Enchanter himself. Similarly, she spoke of her passion for the stars and how often she'd use her convalescence to spy the stars. Then her story led to her Harrowing, and although Kathryn knew that she wasn't supposed to speak of it to those not of the Circle or Chantry, Kathryn did say that she had accomplished it with ease. Her tone soured considerably when she began speaking of Jowan and how she betrayed the Circle to assist him to only find out that he was a Maleficar. That, she thought, would be something she'd carry as her cross to bare forever. When they asked of Tuvok, this was when her face brightened. "Tuvok. Tuvok was a Templar at the Circle and had been there for me since I was a child. He was the one to make sure I was happy, the one to make sure that I was progressing. He is my oldest and dearest friend." She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and grinned, raising one of Tuvok's eyebrows. The friendly atmosphere continued from then on as they spoke about their travels (while Kathryn listened avidly).

After an hour, Duncan joined them, a dark shadow painted into his face, one that Kathryn would have been a fool to miss. She frowned as she watched him, his eyes taking on that haunted quality when he gazed upon the three new recruits. Finally, after several long minutes of silence, he spoke. "You three have been selected from a multitude for your skills. You, along with Alistair will go into the Korcari Wilds to procure three vials of Darkspawn Blood, one for each of you." Kathryn saw out of the corner of her eyes both Ser Jory and Daveth flinch.

"The Wilds? But what about the Darkspawn? It's suicide to go out there!"

Duncan merely settled his dark gaze upon Daveth who had spoken, an awkward, cold silence filling the air.

"What do we need the Darkspawn blood for?" Kathryn asked finally, subconsciously flexing her fingers.

"It is a necessary part of the Joining. I'll explain the exact details later. As for the second task, there was a Grey Warden outpost in the Korcari Wilds long ago which was shut down when it became too costly to maintain. Recently it has came to our attention the existence of scrolls left behind in this old outpost, magically sealed to protect from anyone or anything not Grey Warden. We need you to find them."

"What were these scrolls?" Daveth asked, a question that had been dancing on the tip of Kathryn's tongue.

"Old treaties once considered a formality. Yet after such a long time many forget their commitments to the Grey Wardens, so it would do well for us to have these treaties as a reminder. Alistair," Duncan turned his dark eyes upon the blonde man who nodded in return, "watch over your charges. The Korcari Wilds are dangerous and it would do little help to us should you die here. The Darkspawn are unlike anything you've ever faced. Maker watch over your path." Duncan saluted to the five of them, eyes locking onto each one. For some reason when Duncan locked eyes on Kathryn, it felt like a lifetime passed between them before the man was gone. Kathryn let out a soft breath that she didn't know she had been saving.

"Alright." She said, taking charge of the situation. "We should prepare ourselves. Like Duncan said, the Wild's are dangerous and we'd become a smear on a rock somewhere if we go in unprepared." She made stock of her own personal situation and saw she had six healing poultices left over from the trip in her belt.

"Ser Jory, Daveth, go to the Quartermaster and request healing poultices. Make sure you have plenty of arrows, Daveth, I'm putting you in formation with Kathryn." Alistair stood and moved over towards her as Ser Jory and Daveth got up and made their way to the Quartermaster. "That staff is going to do you little good if Darkspawn are in your face, Kathryn."

Kathryn smiled wolfishly before holding her hands out infront of him, showing her fingers as they crackled with energy. "They get near and they get a shock." She straightened up and turned towards Tuvok. "I don't think you're going to be coming with us, Tuvok."

"No, Kathryn. This is a task set for Grey Warden recruits." The dark elven man said, " I will await your return here." He bowed her his head slightly to her and she returned the gesture respectfully.

"You ready for this, Kathryn?"

"Ready to help. Ready to face Darkspawn?" Kathryn let out a sigh. "I've read about them, studied them in depth or at least as much as one can. I know all of the myths and legends as well as personal reports on encounters with the Darkspawn. Even still, I don't think I am any more prepared for what I'm about to encounter."

Alistair smiled before patting her on a slim shoulder. "You'll do fine." Alistair pulled his sword out of it's scabbard on his back and inspected the steel blade. "You're not going to run out of mana during this, are you?"

"Most likely not. Primal Magic doesn't take up as much mana than other disciplines do. I'll mostly be just supporting from afar and using my staff. Not much mana consumed in that. Besides, this robe is good for one thing; enchanted for enhanced mana regeneration."

Alistair grinned, his features turning boyish in the light of the fire. "So it's not all just for show, eh?" He once again slapped her back and once again she was unprepared for the blow and staggered forward a little. "Let's get to it. I'll see you at the Eastern Gate. I have something to take care of first." With that, Kathryn and Tuvok were left alone at the the large campfire. The elven man was silent, as usual, eyes focused on the campfire intently although Kathryn knew that he was very, very aware of his surroundings. Kathryn moved and sat down beside him, letting out a soft sigh as the movement was completed. The two sat in companionable silence, Tuvok reflecting while Kathryn mentally prepared herself for what was up ahead. Suddenly she laughed, attracting Tuvok's attention.

"Kathryn?"

"Just finding it extremely humorous. A day out of my Harrowing and I'm thrown out of the Tower and now about to trudge through the Korcari Wilds in search of three vials of Darkspawn blood and some old treaties." She laughed again, adjusting the black belt that hung loosely around her slim waist. "Do you ever think when you first saw me as a child that I'd end up like this?"

Kathryn turned to face the dark Elven man, studying him as his face, to her shock took on a wistful expression. His next few words were whispered. "I always knew that you were destined for great things, Kathryn. From the moment I first saw you, I knew that yours would be the hand to raise all others." Surprised at that, Kathryn moved closer and was about to ask what he meant, if not for the untimely arrival of Ser Jory and Daveth, back from the Quartermaster and loaded with supplies.

Kathryn pursed her lips before nodding, blue grey eyes locking onto the other mens eyes and peering inside as if determining their fortitude. After several long moments, Kathryn nodded and turned away, eyes instantly locking onto a raven sitting atop a tent, blue eyes peering down at her, studying her. Their eyes locked and suddenly Kathryn felt as if what was behind that gaze was keenly intelligent – more than an animal should be. Kathryn watched as the bird suddenly took flight, large powerful black wings beating at the air and taking the large raven out into the Wilds. "Alright," Kathryn said after several long moments. "Let's go."

---

"Watch the flank! Jory, I could use some help here!"

The party had only taken a few steps into the Korcari Wilds when they were accosted by a large swarm of Darkspawn, charging into the clearing to hack and slash at the unsuspecting group of four. Alistair, who had been leading the party immediately charged into the fray, his sword and shield removed from his back and into his hands in a flash. His sword was currently clashing with what appeared to be a Darkspawn Hurloc while Ser Jory charged into a Darkspawn Emissary from behind, knocking the Darkspawn to the ground. With a quick stab to the neck, Ser Jory severed the Darkspawn's spine, killing it instantly. Daveth stood beside Kathryn, shooting arrows into the enemy from afar. The Darkspawn kept coming, flooding in from the thick of the Wilds, attacking in a wild, mindless rush. For every one that was killed, two more took their place and soon the group was overwhelmed. In a desperate attempt to rescue Ser Jory from being stabbed, Daveth left Kathryn's side, and instantly a Hurloc took Daveth's place, snarling. Ugly things, Kathryn thought as the Darkspawn roared loudly in her face, spittle flying from it's massive jaws to impact with her face. Feeling the tingle in her fingers, Kathryn raised her hands, a large ball of electricity appearing in them. As the Hurloc took a step towards her, Kathryn let loose the ball of electricity and it impacted solidly with the Hurloc, catapulting away from her and slamming into four other oncoming Darkspawn. A noise from behind alerted her to another Darkspawn approaching her and she whirled around, a large flare of fire bursting from her fingertips and catching the Darkspawn right in the face. Undeterred it raced towards her, sword held high. Wishing she had taken the Earth based spells class so she knew how to cast spells that could knock the Darkspawn backwards, Kathryn reached up and grabbed at the Darkspawn's hand, using it's own momentum to stab itself in the gut with a quick twist of her arms. Jerking the blade out she rammed it into another Hurloc before sending a fireball into the stomach of another, sending it careening into a tree with a loud, resounding crunch. Shocked at the previous physical manoeuvre, Kathryn made a note to thank Tuvok for his defence training as she began firing volleys of lightning into the battle – one of such bolts flying directly over the bent head of Alistair and into a Hurloc raised to attack him from behind. As sudden as it began the battle ended with a Genlock falling to the ground, smoke emanating from a fireball imposed hole in it's torso.

"Makers Breath," Daveth gasped out, bending over in exhaustion, dropping his bow to the blood stained ground with his hands on his knees. Ser Jory stood surrounded by dead Hurlocs, his eyes wide but not entirely comprehending. Alistair made his way over to Kathryn, wiping his blade on some nearby Hurloc.

"How are you doing, Kathryn?" He asked and she focused her eyes upon him. Ser Jory, Daveth and Alistair looked like complete and total messes. Thankfully because she was a mage, Kathryn's only physical contact throughout the fight was limited to the two she had killed with her hands before. As such, the only mark she had sustained from the battle was a large spurt of blood that arched up her neck and face, mixing with her sweat. "You were pretty amazing back there. I looked back at and you took a Hurloc on by yourself! I didn't think you had it in you."

Kathryn raised an eyebrow, feeling a little worse for wear but determined to put up a brave face. "I didn't think I could do that either," She said with a quiet laugh, "but I did." She moved down into a crouch and took three vials from her belt. "Tell the others to stand watch while I get these vials filled."

Alistair nodded and moved over towards the other two, leaving Kathryn to her work. Keeping an ear out on their conversation, she listened as they discussed Ser Jory's blow to the head. Apparently during the battle the man had been unable to duck fast enough and had taken a club blow to the head. She was impressed but only marginally by his ability to stay on his feet and fight after such a blow, but now realised that he would be a liability if it weren't treated. "Give him a health poultice," She called to Alistair. "It won't heal everything but at least he'll feel better." They acknowledged her with thanks and she plugged the caps on the vials now filled with Darkspawn blood and rose to her feet, feeling slightly exhausted from the fight.

Standing in front of her was that black wolf with that ice cold blue gaze. She contained her gasp of surprise but only just, staring into those hypnotic eyes. She glanced towards her left where the others stood checking each other over and providing reassurances while discussing tactics for a future encounter (as well administering the healing poultice to Ser Jory) and understood that they weren't paying much attention to her, or their surroundings. Feeling her ire rise, Kathryn felt like shouting at them to get a grip of themselves, but the wolf attracted her gaze once more. Finally after a few moments that felt like hours, Kathryn heard herself whisper, "What are you?"

The wolf raised it's head in what Kathryn supposed was an indignant look. Obviously, it was a wolf. But Kathryn, being a mage knew that this wolf was so much more than simply that. It could be any number of things – a Blight infected wolf, a shapeshifter, or even an Abomination. This Wolf gave every indication that it understood her, but refused to answer, something which made the exhausted Kathryn suddenly angry. A few moments more and the wolf suddenly turned and darted into the night, black pelt glimmering in the fading daylight. Staring into the thicket of the Wilds, Kathryn shook her head. It was the same wolf each time. That night as she was leaving the Tower of Magi and then periodically during her journey to Ostagar. She hadn't mentioned it to Duncan or Tuvok and now she wondered idly if she should have.

She marched over towards the other three and handed Ser Jory and Daveth a vial of Darkspawn blood. "I have the blood."

"That's great, Kathryn," Alistair praised, sheathing his sword on the scabbard on his back and clipping his shield into place on top of it. He turned around and took stock of their situation and their location. "Alright. We've got the vials and it looks like it isn't too far from the Ruins."

"Can we rest for a little bit?" Ser Jory gasped out, oblivious to the exasperated look Kathryn gave him. Well, you do insist on wearing that incredibly inefficient armour. No wonder you're getting tired.

Alistair looked like he agreed with Kathryn, although he didn't say it. "Of course, Ser Jory. Keep your eyes and ears open, fellas, I'd hate to be caught by Darkspawn with our pants down." Ser Jory and Daveth moved to the nearest fallen tree to sit upon, Ser Jory sticking his broadsword into the ground in front of him. Kathryn frowned at his incredibly cavalier attitude before moving to join the others, sitting down on a nearby boulder. She was tired but willing to push through it to get the job done. The headache she had received during the battle was relentless and Kathryn felt like her head was going to split open. It was horrid and quite unlike the days when she was an Apprentice Mage in the Tower and her assessments during simulated battle. But those, she realised, were clinical and controlled. The chaos that was battle was completely dissimilar. Taking in a deep breath, Kathryn took the time to relax, keeping her eyes focused and attentive to the party's surroundings.

Ser Jory and Daveth were discussing the battle in hushed voices while Alistair sat beside them, staring at the ground. At first Kathryn thought he wasn't paying attention when she saw that at some point he had retrieved his sword from his scabbard and it was now clenched in his hand, the blade itself pointing towards the ground. It was a pose that Kathryn had seen Tuvok on occasion take on, when the man was relaxing while remaining attentive. It was a pose she knew well and she appreciated that Alistair was now obviously entertaining it – it connoted common sense, unlike Ser Jory who lounged around as if the Wilds were his home, obviously forgetting the Darkspawn threat. She almost felt like chewing him out, remarking on his stupidity. It amazed her at how she was remaining attentive and he wasn't – shouldn't he be the experienced one in this manner? Then again, the man was a Knight, and from what Kathryn had seen and read Knights were, on the whole, simply knights on the payroll of the Teyrn, Arl or Bann that commanded them. They did nothing of note other than use their noble positions as a way to set them apart from the rest of the populace and garner the rewards from such. She had no doubt that while Ser Jory could hold his own in a fight, the man had no real combat experience. Then again, neither do I, Kathryn thought bitterly.

For a moment, Kathryn looked down, gazing at the shape of her thighs hidden beneath the black underskirt of the robe she wore. They were slightly muscled and that was only because of her exercise regimen. If she hadn't insisted in jogging each morning through the Tower, she was sure she'd end up like some of the other Mages, or like Jowan – all skin and bones. Perhaps that was another reason why the Chantry locked all the Mages up in a Tower – to make them all weak. Kathryn's eyes then focused down towards the ground, locking in on what appeared to be a flower. The stem was tall and green and atop it sat a flower of a bright white with red center. Reaching down, Kathryn plucked it from the ground, remembering the Kennelmasters words.

"It's not a weed!" The man said, rolling his eyes. "It's mistaken for one because it's resilient, but they're few and far between, hard to come across. It's a flower with white petals darkening to red in the middle. Some of the Chasind and Ash Warriors have stories where one of their Mabari ate one of these flowers and survived the Taint."

Not knowing if the story was true, Kathryn pocketed the flower, keeping it safe in one of the backpockets of her belt. It was at that moment that Alistair stood, swinging his sword for a second before stuffing it back into it's scabbard. "Okay. It's only a few minutes walk from here to the ruins."

"Let's hope we don't run into any more Darkspawn," Daveth said as he stood up, followed by Ser Jory.

"Agreed." Checking over their supplies took only a few moments more before they began moving forth. It had grown slightly darker than the party would have liked and now Kathryn walked beside Alistair, holding her staff aloft as she used her magic to light the tip, casting additional light on the surrounding area. It was still daytime, and looking up revealed that the sun which had somehow already been dull was now covered by cloud. They weren't accosted by any Darkspawn, to Ser Jory's relief, and safely made their way into the Outpost Ruins.

"Ser Jory, Daveth, circle around, make sure we're safe. Kathryn, do you sense anything?"

Kathryn raised an eyebrow at the question. Why was it that everyone thought that mages could 'sense' things? She couldn't, any more than he could. All mages did have an innate ability to 'feel' other sources of magic, but that was entirely dependant on their own abilities. For instance, they could 'feel' anything weaker than their own power, and they could 'feel' anything stronger than their own power – but more often than not the bearers of stronger magics hid their aura. A mage's aura was a very powerful thing, especially in the strongest of mages. Kathryn, while she was skilled, wasn't necessarily the most powerful which meant that should a magical presence, most likely malevolent was around and hiding it's aura, she wouldn't have been able to sense it. Still, she was a keen observer and she walked around, leather boots kicking up age old grime. "These ruins look like they've not been stepped into for a good many years. Looks safe."

"See any scrolls?"

"Not really." Kathryn looked up and watched as the sun appeared from behind the dark clouds. With that she stopped pouring magic into the staff and its light dimmed before going out completely. Ser Jory and Daveth returned. "Everything looks secure," Ser Jory said.

"I don't think anyone's been here for a long time!" Daveth remarked. Kathryn and Alistair moved forward and Kathryn spied a chest.

"Alistair, look." She said, getting the man's attention.

Alistair moved over to the chest and looked inside, letting out a sigh of frustration. "Nothing. No treaties, no nothing."

"Well well, what do we have here?" Came a voice from nearby. Kathryn turned, her eyes rising from the ramp leading to another section of the ruins to a pair of mid thigh high black leather boots. Her eyes drifting up further to the black leather skirt/shorts layered with black leather straps adorned with beads and steel studs, leading to a thick belt-like slung on her hips. Tucked into the front of this was a revealing maroon top with a hood, covering her breasts while leaving the woman's stomach and chest open to perusal. Around her delicate neck was a necklace of what appeared to be bones, beads and baubles. On her right bicep was a covering of black leather, just above the woman's elbow. Her left arm was completely covered in black leather, starting from a black hard leather pauldron adorned with feathers down to her leather tipped fingers, safely encased in a black glove adorned with a gold bangle around her wrist. Upon her back was a staff, very much unlike her own. It looked for all intents and purposes a gnawed piece of wood and Kathryn honestly wondered if it could even do anything. When Kathryn's eyes locked upon the woman's face, however, the breath left her and she was left frantically searching for air while maintaining some semblance of control. The jaw with the cleft chin, the full lips, the proud cheeks and perfect nose and cold, icy blue eyes framed by wisps of white blonde hair tucked into an austere bun. Instantly she thought back to the portrait, tucked away safely in the back pocket of her belt with the flower. She had entertained then that the woman might not have been real and now she was staring into those ice blue eyes, all the real. "Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger, poking amidst a corpse whose bones have been long since cleaned? Or merely an intruder into these darkspawn filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey? What say you? Scavenger or intruder?"

"Intruder?" Alistair said, moving forward hesitantly, "And just how are these your wilds?"

The woman raised an eyebrow, regarding the blonde haired man with a clear look of arrogant disdain. "Because I know them only as one who knows them could? Can you claim the same?" The woman moved forward, her ice blue eyes locking onto Kathryn, pinning her into place. "I have watched your progress for some time. 'Where do they go', I wonder, 'Why are they here'? And now you disturb ashes none have touched for so long... why is that?" Kathryn's eyes narrowed as the icy woman regarded her, but in this gaze Kathryn could tell there wasn't the disdain she had shown Alistair. Instead, she was regarded with... curiosity?

"Don't answer her," Alistair murmured to Kathryn. "She looks Chasind and that means others may be nearby."

The woman quirked her left eyebrow once again, a somewhat amused expression flittering onto her face for all of a moment before returning to the mask of impassivity. "You fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?"

"Yes, swooping is bad."

"She's a Witch of the Wilds she is! She'll turn us all into toads!" Daveth whispered and Kathryn fought the urge to roll her eyes. She knew, of course that turning something else into something it wasn't was an incredibly risky and intensive procedure considering that the mage casting the spell would have to wrap the Veil around the object that was to be changed. But the populace didn't know that – no doubt because of the Chantry's influence.

"Witch of the Wilds," The icy woman echoed, shaking her head. "Such idle fancies, those legends. Do you not have minds of your own?" She questioned, before her eyes fell upon Kathryn once more, studying the woman. "And you? You are a Mage, are you not? Locked up inside that Tower of Magi under the ever watchful eye of the Chantry." She quirked her brow. "Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

Kathryn raised her eyebrows, eyes locking. For some reason, Kathryn got the idea that this woman already knew her name. Yet, rather appear the fool in case she was wrong, Kathryn merely inclined her head. "I am Kathryn Elerya Jarwin." She replied, raising her jaw defiantly. The woman moved closer, and from underneath the hood of her hood Kathryn could see that the woman was far younger than she was. Perhaps twenty years old, while she was bordering on twenty eight. "But you may call me Kathryn."

"And you may call me Seven if you wish." Kathryn felt her eyes go wide. A number for a name? "Shall I guess your purpose? You sought something in that chest, something that is here no longer?"

"'Here no longer'? You stole them, didn't you? You... you sneaky... witch-thief!" Alistair piped up, wiping away some Darkspawn blood from his forehead, sneer on his face.

"How very eloquent. How does one steal from dead men?"

"Very easily it seems," Alistair said with great disdain. "Those documents are Grey Warden property and I suggest," he emphasised the word with a slight flexing of his shoulders, "you return them."

"I will not for it was not I who removed them." She crossed her arms across her chest and gestured her hand as if waving something away. "Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer if you wish; I am not threatened."

"Who did, then?" Kathryn asked. Seven levelled her keen blue eyed gaze upon her and Kathryn definitely felt like she knew this woman, other than the portrait hidden in her pocket which she was now sure was Seven.

"It was my mother, in fact."

"Your mother."

"You have got to be joking. You don't honestly expect us to believe that, do you?" Alistair scoffed, shaking his head.

"Then why do you not meet with her and ask her yourself?" She asked, to which Alistair paled considerably.

"You can take us to her?" Kathryn asked, tilting her head slightly. "Can we retrieve these treaties off of her?"

"Possibly." Seven regarded the group of four, the three men positively quivering in their boots while the small diminutive female stood straight, eyes locked upon her. Impressed, but not showing it, she motioned with her head for the party to follow her before moving into the thicket, the movement so graceful it looked like she was dissolving into the landscape.

---

"Greetings, mother." Seven said, her voice although quiet carrying across the expanse towards an old woman who stood infront of a fire, "I have brought four Grey Wardens who-"

"Yes, I can see them, girl." Seven raised an eyebrow before moving off towards another fire where she proceeded to stir a large pot. Sniffing the air slightly and Kathryn realised it was a pot of stew. Her mouth watered slightly at the smell after having lived on hunks of bread and water for a few days. "Mmm. Much as I expected."

"Do you really expect us to believe that you were waiting for us?"

"You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. Shut one's eyes tight or open one's arms wide, either way, one's a fool." Eyes widening slightly, Kathryn mused on the old woman. The old woman had stringy grey long hair and sunken in eyes and gaunt cheekbones, looking more like a vampire than alive. Her voice was most interesting, however – quite alike Kathryn's in it's rich gravelly timbre, yet where Kathryn's was void of any accent other than Ferelden, this woman spoke with a very thick accent, one of unknown origin. It was also filled with the weight of many years where Kathryn's was fresh. Suddenly, the old witch turned her dull hazel eyes upon Kathryn, making her go stock still.

"She's a witch I tell you! We shouldn't be talking to her!"

"Quiet Daveth! If she really is a Witch, do you really want to make her mad?" Ser Jory hissed at the younger man, jabbing him in the ribs with a metal encased elbow.

"There's a smart lad!" The old witch laughed. "Sadly irrelevant to the larger scheme of things, but it is not I who decides. Believe what you will." She turned her head once again to Kathryn, both of them studying each other, eyes locked upon the other. "And what of you? Does your female mind give you a different perspective? What is it that you believe?"

"I'm not sure what to believe." Kathryn replied truthfully, eliciting an old wisened laugh from the other woman.

"A statement that possesses more wisdom than it implies. 'Be always aware'... Or is it 'oblivious'? I can never remember." She laughed, before levelling her eyes on Kathryn and the three behind her. Kathryn felt like fidgeting under the gaze but forced herself to remain still, matching the older woman's eyes. At first she saw a test in the woman's eyes, and then as the moments dragged on she felt... acceptance? "So much about you is uncertain..." she continued, dark eyes boring into Kathryn, "... and yet I believe. Do I?" She chuckled, "Why, it seems I do!"

"So this is a dreaded 'Witch of the Wilds'?" Alistair murmured sarcastically, sly grin across his face. Kathryn turned her head slightly and eyed him out of the corner of her eye disdainfully.

"Witch of the Wilds, eh?" The old woman chuckled once more and shook her head, grey hair flopping every which way. "Seven must have told you that. She fancies such tales, though she would never admit it!" The old woman began giggling madly. "Oh, how she dances under the moon!" She clapped her hands together and laughed into the night.

Seven looked positively embarrassed, her cheeks shading a light red as she pinched the bridge of her nose in consternation. "They did not come to listen to your wild tales, Mother."

"True. They came for their treaties, yes? And before you begin barking," she said, turning around to pick them up as they lay conveniently placed upon a chest – making Kathryn wonder if this meeting had been all pre-meditated - "your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these." She handed them to Kathryn, several old and dusty scrolls of a diminutive size.

"You..! Oh..." Alistair blinked several times. "You protected them?"

"And why not? Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them that this Blight's threat is far greater than they realize!"

"What do you mean by that?" Kathryn asked, handing Ser Jory the treaties without even looking back.

"That either the threat is more or they realise less. Or perhaps the threat is nothing! Or perhaps they realise nothing." The old woman laughed, and Kathryn felt her brows knit together in a look of consternation.

"What is your name so I may thank you?" Kathryn asked, surprised when the older woman bowed very slightly.

"Such manners! And always in the last place you look... like stockings!" She laughed once again, boisterously. "I have many, many names. The Chasind call me Flemeth. I suppose that is good enough."

Flemeth? From the Chasind Legends? Kathryn knew these legends and had studied them well. Being in the Tower of Magi did have it's perks, one of which being a vast, vast library filled with countless resources. She almost wished she had brought the book of Chasind legends along, just so she could check once again who Flemeth was. She did know that according to the Legend Flemeth was a supremely old and wise Witch and suddenly Kathryn understood that what was occurring was indeed a fortunate boon.

"Thank you, Flemeth. Your assistance means much to the Grey Wardens," Kathryn said. She bowed her head appreciatively before turning her head to face the men who merely stared back at her with wide eyes, including and especially Alistair. Honestly, now!

"Thank you, Grey Warden," Flemeth said, inclining her head in a similar manner, her eyes skeptical for a few moments as she regarded Alistair, Ser Jory and Daveth. When her eyes turned back to Kathryn, she looked relatively at ease. She laughed again. "Ah, but don't mind me." She chuckled heartilly. "You have what you came for!"

"Time for you to go then."

"Girl, what do you mean? These are our guests!" Flemeth turned her eyes to Seven who almost wilted under the gaze. She sucked in an indignant breath and raised her chin before nodding.

"Very well. I will show you out of the woods." She almost glared at Kathryn and the three men. "Follow me."

---

"So you return from the Wilds." Duncan greeted the weary party coated in blood (and in Ser Jory's case, entrails) eyebrows slightly raised. "Have you been successful?"

Alistair shot Duncan a look, but left Kathryn to answer. "We have three vials of Darkspawn blood and the treaties. We were accosted by the Darkspawn only a few meters into the Wilds, like it was a co-ordinated attack. I thought the Darkspawn were soul-less and mindless."

"You're correct – they are. This is troubling news indeed." Yet as Kathryn watched him, he didn't look particularly troubled. "I've had the Circle Mages preparing. With the blood you've retrieved, we can begin the Joining immediately."

"I suppose we should tell you about Seven and her mother." Kathryn said, illiciting a raised eyebrow from Duncan who then looked to Alistair for an explanation. Alistair let out a sigh before speaking.

"There was a woman at the tower and her mother had the scrolls. They were both very..." He hesitated, looking skyward as if searching for divine inspiration for the correct word. "Odd."

"Were they Wilder folk?" Duncan queried, and Kathryn shook her head.

"They were Apostates." The men towering over her looked at the small redhead. "Mages can tell a Mage apart from a person without the Gift. I believe they're outside of the Circle and hiding from the Chantry."

Duncan frowned. "I know you were a Circle Mage, Kathryn, and I know you were once a Templar, Alistair, but the Circle's and Chantry's business is not ours. We are Grey Wardens. We have the scrolls; let us focus on the Joining."

"What does the Joining entail, Duncan?" Kathryn asked.

"I will not lie. We Grey Wardens pay a heavy price to become what we are." He said sorrowfully. "Fate may decree that you pay your price now rather than later."

"Are you saying that the... Joining could kill us?"

Duncan inclined his head. "As could any Darkspawn you might face in battle. You would not have been chosen, however, if I did not think you had a chance to survive. I will take these vials to the Mages at once. Rest and recuperate for the time being." He inclined his head to them slightly before leaving, leaving the exhausted Ser Jory, Daveth, Alistair and Kathryn to their own devices. Ser Jory and Daveth all but collapsed against each other on the ground, panting, while Alistair gingerly felt his way to a nearby boulder to sit upon. Kathryn remained standing, a hand reaching up to wipe at her blood smeared face with both hands. She felt a weight on her shoulders and she opened her eyes to gaze into the concerned eyes of Tuvok – or at least as concerned as he would allow them to appear to be.

"Are you alright, Kathryn?" He asked, his brows twitching towards a frown. At that Kathryn knew that her normally stoic Elven friend was very shaken.

"I am fine, Tuvok," Kathryn said before giving him a warm smile despite her tiredness. "Had a bit of a close call with a Hurloc but that was about it." As Tuvok's eyebrows raised, Kathryn held up a hand to forestall his concerns. "I'm fine. Honest."

"So long as you take care of yourself, Kathryn. I took the liberty of securing some food for your return."

"More bread and water?" She asked, sheepishly ducking her head as Tuvok produced a wooden bowl of stew.

"Hardly."

"Thanks, Tuvok."

"I will secure more for the other members of your party." Kathryn blushed but exchanged a bow with the Elf before he moved away in search of more food. Kathryn moved over to Alistair and after being given some room to sit down by the man, she lowered herself gingerly to the stone, lifting the wooden spoon to her lips and greedily drinking down the stew. It wasn't the most delightful of creations, but it filled a void in her stomach.

"That elf..." Ser Jory began. "Is it your servant? It hardly engages in proper protocol for such service."

Kathryn leveled a glare at the man, eyes enflamed in an emotion she didn't feel very often – outrage. "He," Kathryn almost hissed, "is not my servant. Tuvok is a most trusted friend and a Templar. You had better treat him with much more respect than you're currently paying him, or so help me Maker I will make you regret thinking of him as a servant." Ser Jory flinched and bowed his head. Feeling a little guilty at her outburst, Kathryn flushed slightly and tucked right back into her stew, noticing how Alistair became stock still beside her.

It was a sore spot for her, she knew. Tuvok had been her closest friend and she had watched other discriminate against him, and even in her own impressionable youth she had done so herself. Tuvok deserved so much more than that, and perhaps it was her now over-compensating for her past treatment of him when she was younger, but she could not stand it when anyone assumed anything about the man. He was hardly a slave, and he was more noble than all of the humans that ever regarded him as such. Tuvok was her closest friend and greatest adviser, seeming to know all the answers that she needed. He had been a pillar for her, never letting his own emotional insecurities (if he had any at all) get in his way of helping her. And she was grateful and deeply indebted to him for that.

The man in question returned to a subdued group. Passing the bowls around, they group of five tucked into their meal with renewed vigour, thanking the elf for his thoughtfulness.

"Perhaps, Kathryn, I should endeavour to train you further in the use of a sword," Tuvok addressed her. At the suggestion Kathryn raised an eyebrow, tongue flicking out to catch some of sauce from the stew that fell to the corner of her lips.

"Why, Tuvok? I'm a Mage, I'm not going to be rushing into battle."

"No, but you will be a Grey Warden. Logic dictates that you will be in many dangerous situations, and training you in the use of a sword will mean that should myself or anyone accompanying you become incapacitated that you would be able to protect yourself in a combat." Kathryn chewed thoughtfully on some meat from the stew, eyes upon the elf who regarded her intently over his own stew.

"You are correct. But I'd prefer it didn't come to that." Tuvok inclined his head in acknowledgement. "I'm not the best with weapons. You know that, Tuvok. It's a miracle I don't whack myself in the head with my staff each time I take it out."

"You are being self deprecating again, Kathryn." The woman in question shrugged and waved an elegant hand noncommittally. "Nevertheless, I would feel safer if you carried a blade with you just in case."

Letting out a sigh, Kathryn nodded her head and acceded to his desire. They continued their meal in relative silence, Kathryn still taking the time to look around the camp site from her place on the boulder. Thinking back upon the trip into the Korcari Wilds, the Darkspawn ambush and the ruins of the Grey Warden Outpost... and the meeting with Seven. Thinking back to her discovery in the basement of the Tower of Magi, Kathryn placed the wooden bowl down on the boulder beside her and reached into the back pocket of her belt, retrieving the portrait in question. As she brought the portrait forward she stared into the eyes of the woman, brow furrowing. There were several differences, but the portrait was of the same woman. But what had it been doing in the Circle Tower's basement? And why had it been of her when she was out in the Korcari Wilds?

Alistair gently nudged her in the ribs and gestured with his chin to the right. Curious, Kathryn leaned forward past Alistair and gazed into the descending night towards a group of tents. "What am I looking at?" She asked, shoving the portrait back into her belt pocket.

Alistair finally swallowed the large gulp of stew he had taken and wiped his mouth on his leather glove. "Teyrn Chakotay." Kathryn's eyes locked onto a man exiting one of the far grander tents within the camp, eyes widening slightly. This was Teyrn Chakotay? The Teyrn was a large bear like man, slightly tanned skin covered from his feet to his neck in large ornate silver armour, glimmering in the fire light. Yet where Ser Jory was sluggish and uncoordinated in his armour, the Teyrn was fluid, moving easily and unencumbered. The Teyrn bore a proud chin coupled with gleaming dark eyes and strong nose and brow. Over his left eyebrow was an interesting tattoo. His features were stern, and oddly he reminded her of an Antivan despite knowing that the famous Teyrn Chakotay Amal was a Ferelden like herself through and through. The man in questions eyes locked upon hers, studying her as she studied him. After several long moments, he inclined his head to her, smiled, and began walking over. Heart hammering in her chest, Kathryn stood and met him halfway across the camp, hands automatically crossing over at the wrist in front of her heart.

"Teyrn Chakotay," Kathryn heard herself say, "it is an honour."

"The honour is all mine, my lady." The large bear of a man flicked his eyes around the camp. "King Cailan has told me that you are one of the newer Grey Warden recruits and I hear that your Joining is to be tonight. Impressive." Kathryn nodded dumbly, feeling every inch of her twenty eight un-wisened years in the face of the sixty year old battle-hardened hero of a man... who was looking at her rather lecherously – at her chest. She wondered if she should have covered her chest and instead decided to curse whoever designed the dress in such a fashion. "You're pretty for a Grey Warden," he said, giving her a keen once over. "Don't let anyone tell you that you don't belong. The first Warden Maric brought to Ferelden was a woman. Best warrior I've ever seen."

"I'm a Mage."

"Even better!" Kathryn's eyes widened. "A powerful Mage is a most powerful ally indeed. Ah yes, the First Enchanter spoke highly of you – a great achievement, for one so young. We will need that in the battle ahead. Pray our King proves amenable to wisdom, if you're the praying sort. "

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then simply pray." Kathryn raised an eyebrow while Chakotay laughed. "King Cailan places too much emphasis on tales and little on skill. He thinks he can fight this Blight with nothing but idle fantasies. Thankfully I am here and we shall have some form of strategy."

The man ran his gloved fingers through his short hair before nodding respectfully to Kathryn. "I wish you well in your joining, my lady...?"

"Kathryn, Teyrn. Kathryn Elerya Jarwin."

Chakotay paused, eyes widening. "Jarwin?" He asked, eyebrows rising up his forehead, voice an octave higher as he gulped in a breath of air.

"That's my family name, yes, lord."

At that, Chakotay looked very disturbed. He shook the expression off, his eyes darting back towards his tent. "Yes, well... Kathryn... I shall see you later. Perhaps on the Battlefield."

"I..." She said as he almost scurried away, rather ungracefully. "Look forward to it." Kathryn watched as the man almost dived into his tent, making her wonder what it was about her last name that made him act in such a manner. She had always been told that her name was meaningless, nothing better than a commoner which didn't overly bother her too much. Then again, she didn't particularly care about her family or it's name or status. All she knew was they had been dead since she was a little girl.

"Kathryn," called a voice behind her, making her jump slightly. She turned to regard Alistair who now held a somber expression. Looking into the young mans hazel eyes, Kathryn could see her own reflection, confused by the Teyrn's quick departure and the events of the past few days. Who was this Seven, and why did Kathryn find a portrait of her in the basement of the Tower of Magi? Who was she, and why did she occupy Kathryn's mind so? And why had Teyrn Chakotay reacted so... fearfully to her last name? And why was she followed constantly by that wolf whose fur was as pitch as midnight? And why was it that both Irving and Duncan regarded her with such... awe? She was a powerful mage, but Irving himself was by far more powerful, and in a battle Duncan could easily best her. "It's time." Kathryn watched a look of grim determination slide across her face, mirrored in Alistair's eyes. No matter her confusion, she now had a job to do.

---

"The more I hear about this Joining, the less I like it." Ser Jory complained, pacing across the stone ground, his metal armor clinking with each step.

"Are you blubbering again?" Daveth rolled his eyes from his place leaning against a nearby wall. They stood beside a table within what Duncan and Alistair called 'the old temple', awaiting Duncan for the Joining.

"Why all these damned tests?" Ser Jory asked as he moved to step infront of Daveth, regarding him as he would a commoner. "Have I not earned my place?"

"Maybe it's tradition. Maybe they're just trying to annoy you."

Kathryn raised an eyebrow from her place seated beside Alistair as she watched the exchange.

"I only know that my wife is in Highever with a child on the way. If they had warned me... it just doesn't seem fair." He whined, making both Kathryn and Daveth roll their eyes while Alistair lowered his head slightly.

"Would you have come if they'd warned you?" Kathryn asked from her seat, flicking some hair out of her face. "Maybe that's why they don't. The Wardens do what they must, right?"

"Including sacrificing us?" Ser Jory asked incredulously. Kathryn frowned up at the man who while standing was two feet taller than her. Wasn't this a Knight of Redcliffe? She wondered idly if all knights were cowards.

"I'd sacrifice a lot more if I knew it would end the Blight." Kathryn said honestly, not paying attention to a nodding Daveth and Alistair. "You saw those Darkspawn. We all did. Wouldn't you die to protect your wife from them?"

"I..."

"Maybe you'll die. Maybe we'll all die." Daveth said, shrugging.

"If nobody stops the Darkspawn, we'll die for sure." Kathryn stood up, dusting her robes. "No matter what happens here today... it'll be done in the name of stopping the Blight."

The conversation abruptly halted as they heard footsteps, each of them turning to face the entrance as Duncan appeared. "At last, we face the Joining." He said as he walked towards them, reverently holding a cup in between his two hands. "The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight, when humanity stood on the very verge of annihilation." He moved up towards a nearby table and placed the gauntlet upon the surface, turning to regard each of the new Warden recruits. "So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of Darkspawn blood and mastered their taint."

Kathryn felt her stomach flip at the thought. In her minds eye she saw the poor dog who had been howling in the kennels, chewing at it's own paw as if that would stem the pain it was obviously enduring. She heard the cries of the men who lay in the mock infirmary towards the west in the camp, who screamed and thrashed and died to the taint. She suddenly felt sick.

"We're... going to drink the blood of those... creatures?" Ser Jory blubbered. Kathryn looked over at both Ser Jory and Daveth, noting they had turned a slight shade of green at the thought. So she wasn't the only one that felt sick at the thought of drinking Darkspawn blood.

"As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you." Duncan walked towards them, fixing them all with a stern watchful eye. "This is the source of our power and our victory."

"Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint." Alistair said, a very serious look in his eyes. "We can sense it in the Darkspawn and use it to slay the Archdemon."

"We speak only a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been said since the first. Alistair," Duncan said, motioning to the younger man with a hand as he drifted back to the table and the cup... filled with a liquid which Kathryn was sure was the Darkspawn blood, "if you would."

"Join us, brothers and sisters." Alistair said, head slightly bowed reverently as he spoke the words quietly. "Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day..." He took a deep breath, "we shall join you."

There were a few moments of silence until the sounds of rustling filled the still air, and the three Grey Warden recruits turned to Duncan who now held the cup in his hands, holding it forward. "Daveth, step forward."

Squaring his jaw, the man in question crossed the distance towards Duncan, taking up the cup without question. He stared into the murky depths for several long moments before he brought the cup to his lips and drank a few gulps. He handed the cup back, feeling the liquid tingle as it went down his throat when suddenly his back arched and he screamed out in pain, shocking and startling Kathryn and Ser Jory who took steps back while Duncan and Alistair looked on sadly. Daveth keeled over and grabbed his stomach, crying out in pain, his eyes turning a deathly white.

"Makers Breath!" Kathryn heard Ser Jory utter under the cries of the man obviously dying infront of her.

"I am sorry, Daveth." The elder Grey Warden said as he stepped away, bowing his head as Daveth fell to the ground, writhing and screaming in pain, hands to his head. After a minute of convulsions he flopped to the ground, dead.

"Step forward, Ser Jory," Duncan said, turning to the other man who began panicking, eyes wild.

"But..." He stepped backwards, hand going to the large broadsword resting on his back, sliding it out of his scabbard. "I have a wife...! A child! Had I known.."

"There is no turning back."

"No!" Ser Jory held his sword out infront of him and Kathryn watched as Duncan sat the cup on the table nearby, hand going to one of his swords that rested at his side. "You ask too much! There is no glory in this!" He backed up against a stone wall, letting out a shocked, horrified gasp as Duncan drew out his own sword. Stepping forward, Ser Jory struck first, a blow which Duncan easily parried before driving the sword through one of the plates in Jory's armour, thrusting it up through the mans stomach and into his heart.

Duncan swallowed as Ser Jory cried out. Duncan closed his eyes and held onto the man whose life now ebbed out of him. "I am sorry." He whispered, barely loud enough over Ser Jory's whimpering cries to be heard. He gently lowered him to the ground and Kathryn watched with a horrified expression as a pool of blood began to surround the otherwise proud Knight. She watched the life drain right out of his eyes.

"But the Joining is not yet complete." Duncan said without emotion, returning to the table to retrieve the cup. He grasped it in his hands and turned to face Kathryn whose heart began pounding high into her throat. "You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint." He said as he handed her the goblet. Like Daveth before her, she stared into the goblet, taking in several long, deep breaths. Before Duncan could stab her too, she threw her head back and drank the goblet dry, sputtering slightly at the extremely bitter, rotten taste. When the waves of pain hit, Kathryn let out her own bone shattering scream, the feeling of her magic spiking all over her body as the darkspawn blood burned its way down her throat. Bending over, Kathryn sobbed out in pain, her eyes turning white as she saw flashes – visions – of a being, a great, terrible being. A dragon, roaring against a green tinged sky, fire erupting from it's disfigured jaws. "From this moment forth," she could barely hear Duncan say over her screams and loud crackling, "you are a Grey Warden." Clutching her hands to her head, Kathryn sank to her knees before collapsing entirely, her consciousness deserting her with a loud, harsh crack.

Her eyes feeling heavy, Kathryn let out a quiet groan, clenching her eyes tight against a bright light.

"She's coming to," she heard a male voice say. Alistair? She wondered through the pounding in her head. It took her what felt like a lifetime, but she managed to open her eyes into the concerned yet smiling faces of Duncan and Alistair.

"Maker... what happened?" Kathryn croaked out, hand going to her head as she attempted to sat up. Just as she completed the manoeuvre she felt a wave of nausea grip her and almost had to duck her head to the left to throw up the remains of her stew. Thankfully, she maintained a tight grip on her stomach and instead sat there, blinking owlishly up at the three men.

"It is finished. Welcome." Duncan merely said, allowing the young woman a small smile as he extended a hand towards her, one which she took in a shaky grip. "You are now a Grey Warden." He helped her up to her feet, hands steadying her as she swayed slightly. When she opened her eyes again, she realised they were Alistair's hands and she smiled at him in thanks.

"Two more deaths." Alistair said sadly. "In my Joining only one of us died, but it was..." He suppressed a shudder. "horrible. I'm glad at least one of you made it through."

"How do you feel?" Duncan asked, watching as Kathryn stared around at her surroundings as if for the first time. She was now standing in blackened ruins, a large blast pattern spreading out from... her! Kathryn stared down at her feet and looked up at Alistair who merely shrugged as if it were a common occurrence. As if magic exploding from a recruit was a normal thing. Then again, she supposed, he'd seen worse.

"Nothing you could have said could have prepared me for that...!" Kathryn groaned out, feeling as if she had aged a hundred years. Her headache began to abate somewhat and Kathryn turned her eyes to Duncan as he spoke.

"Such is what it takes to be a Grey Warden."

"Did you have dreams?" Alistair asked, eyebrow raising in curiosity. "I had terrible dreams after my Joining."

Kathryn struggled to return her mind back to the time where she had been in the darkness of unconsciousness, to any dreams. All she could remember was pain, horrible pain... and that terrible dragon, roaring, screeching loudly to the night and into her very soul, shaking the very foundations that was her.

"Such dreams come when you begin to sense the Darkspawn, as we all do. That and many other things can be explained in the months to come. But before we forget, there is one last part to the Joining. We take some of that blood and put it in a pendant. Something to remind us... of those who didn't make it this far." Duncan reached forward and took one of her hands, placing the pendant in her palm and gently curling her fingers over it, patting her hand. "Take some time. When you are ready, I'd like you to accompany me to a meeting with the King."

The King? Kathryn blinked several times trying to comprehend, still feeling as if in a fog.

"The meeting is to the west, down the stairs. It won't be held for another few hours, so take this time to get some rest. Alistair will show you and Tuvok beds."

Bowing her head in thanks, Kathryn stepped sluggishly after Alistair who slapped her on the back with a splintmail encased hand, making her stagger forward somewhat. She doubted she'd ever get used to that! "Did I..?" Kathryn asked after several long moments of walking from the old temple where the Joining had occurred.

"Explode? Pretty much." Alistair said with barely hidden amusement. "According to Duncan most of our Mage recruits when they go through the Joining emit some kind of magical discharge. I didn't think it'd be so... big! We actually had to duck." As they stepped into the camp proper, Kathryn was greeted by Tuvok who wrapped a steadying arm around her as she almost toppled over on shaky and unsteady legs.

"Kathryn. Are you alright?" Tuvok inquired, looking her over with a keen eye. He noticed that she was both unsteady on her feet and pale. "The Joining was a success, correct?"

Kathryn nodded, allowing herself to be led back towards the campfire. "I'm fine, Tuvok." She said shakily, looking forward to sitting down. Within moments she was sitting down as comfortably as one could upon a boulder, arms resting against her knees as she bent over slightly, leaning forward.

"The nausea should go away soon," Alistair assured her, hooking his thumbs in his belt. "Anyway, when you feel like it, the tents are just over there." He pointed over towards the Grey Warden tents, singling out a solitary elf waiting beside two of the tents. "They're barrack tents, so you'll be staying with myself and three other Grey Wardens. He'll show you which one. Your possessions are already inside."

"Thank you, Alistair," Kathryn murmured, hands going up to rub at her face, the odd chinkle of splintmail moving relaying to her that the ex-Templar was now leaving. "I certainly could use a bath right now."

"I have located several baths placed in the army section of the camp. However from the quality of their upkeep I suspect that you would rather walk back to the Tower of Magi and have a bath there instead."

"That bad, huh?" Kathryn let out a groan and ran her fingers through her hair. Tuvok held out a leather flask that had been attached to her belt and Kathryn took it without question, thanking him kindly for his thoughtfulness. She took a brief swig of the cool refreshing water inside before re-corking it and handing it back to her elven friend. "Surely there is some kind of spring around Ostagar that we can find."

"Indeed. While you were with the Grey Wardens I took the opportunity to explore the camp and the surrounding area. Several of the Mages encamped here visit a nearby lake that has the added benefit of a waterfall as their bathing site."

"Oh well that doesn't sound too bad." She regarded her friend as he sat on a log across from her, the warmth of the fire between them. "Anything else you've discovered?"

"Indeed." Kathryn quirked an eyebrow as she watched Tuvok stand and make his way over towards his bags and for the first time she noticed a brown leather package sitting atop his black bags. It was distinctively sword shaped, and Kathryn felt her stomach seize. He wasn't going to give her a sword, was he? He picked the package up and moved towards her with a grave expression on his face. Suddenly Kathryn realised that Tuvok bore an entirely different sword at his hip, one less ornate than his previous one, one that looked of less quality. From what she knew Tuvok's old sword was exactly that – very old, from the time of the Tevinter Imperium. The blade had runes carved into the metal and the guard. The hilt itself was covered with a fine leather enchanted to mould itself to the fingers of the user for perfect balance, each stroke Kathryn knew could be deadly. The pommel itself was golden and inside it sat a bright ruby, one that often reminded her of her own pendant. Of course, she knew it was a coincidence since most Ferelden crafters and blacksmiths attempted to emulate Tevinter Imperium architecture and design. "Oh, no, Tuvok." Kathryn whispered, watching as the man unravelled the leather encasing to produce his favourite sword, shining as if newly cleaned. "Not Reisende, Tuvok."

However, as she looked up into the man's eyes, she could tell he was not disappointed with losing his sword – if anything she could see he was relieved. She was about to ask him about that when he removed the blade from it's scabbard, holding it aloft. "Reisende is a blade far older than myself." He said, dark eyes locked onto hers. "She has seen battles in Orlais, the Anderfalls, Antiva and battles during the Exaulted March on my homeland. The man who gave me this blade," He said, face pinching slightly between the eyebrows showing his discomfort, something that Kathryn only picked up because she knew him so well, "instructed me to pass the blade on to someone who could use the power within it." He twisted the blade in the air, the metal slicing through the air and creating a low, whining hum as it moved. "Although you may not know how to use it properly, it will guide you." With that, Tuvok sheathed the sword and reverently held it out for Kathryn to take. Eyes locked on each others, Kathryn slowly stood, surprised that she was no longer quivering like a leaf. Before, Tuvok had never allowed her to touch the sword. Infact, he never allowed anyone touch the sword. He had told her that Reisende was very important to him and he would rather put his honour rather than his sword in someone elses hands. The blade, from what she knew being made of dwarven steel augmented with dragon bone, was incredibly expensive and she had always thought that it was this reason. Yet the way he was reverently holding it now made her think otherwise. Yet she reached forward and placed her hands under it, palms up, feeling how weightless the blade was when placed into her hands.

"Reisende is yours, now, Kathryn." Tuvok said, watching the young woman as she pulled the blade from it's scabbard, the subtle song of the blade echoing in the air. Under the palm of her right hand she could feel the leather of the hilt shape and mould itself to her hand, what would supposedly be a disconcerting feeling strangely comforting Kathryn. Her eyes now locked on the sword, Kathryn felt it in her hands, the weightlessness of the Dwarven metal laced with dragonbone. It was craftmanship at its finest, and Kathryn felt oddly privileged to hold the blade, much less be the owner of it. At that, Kathryn wondered if there was more to what Tuvok was telling her. But then again, she had never known the man to with-hold information from her, so she was probably just being paranoid.

"Thank you, Tuvok." Kathryn murmured as she gazed upon the blade before slowly sliding it back into it's scabbard. Reaching behind her, she pressed it against the fixture on the back of her robe dress which allowed her to carry weapons which opened and spread around the scabbard of the sword in two places. "I will take good care of it. I promise." Holding that sword... somehow felt right. Like she was meant to wield the blade, even if she were a Mage. She'd heard of some mages carrying swords but knew that they were physically weaker than those without the Gift. Apparently the Gift itself made a Mage physically weaker than someone else, without the Gift. But this blade was feather light and she could easily lift it. Perhaps she would be able to use it with the same ease, if she were taught. Perhaps I should take Tuvok up on that offer. Kathryn bowed her head to the man infront of respectfully who returned the gesture before inclining his head towards the Grey Warden tents, bending down in a fluid movement to pick up his bag.

"I suggest you rest for a few hours, Kathryn." A suggestion to which Kathryn nodded, falling into step beside the tall elf.

"Thanks, Tuvok." Kathryn chuckled quietly as they walked together towards the Grey Warden tents, the shock of watching Daveth die and Ser Jory being murdered by Duncan slowly kicking in. As she thought about it, it made sense that Ser Jory was killed, as horrid as the thought was. If word got out at the chance that you could die during the ritual just as Daveth did, or the excruciating pain it entailed, then no one would ever allow themselves to become a Grey Warden, just like Ser Jory.

It made sense. That didn't mean she liked it.

The past few days were all one shock after another. Jowan being a Maleficar, her being conscripted into the Grey Wardens, the Blight, Seven and Flemeth, the Joining and then Tuvok giving her his most prized sword. She wondered idly if the world had suddenly gone mad.

They reached the Grey Warden tents and the small elf standing there showed them to the tent they were both in, eyes widening to the size of saucers as Kathryn bowed her head to him and crossed her wrists together over her heart. "Thank you," she murmured to him, before ducking inside with Tuvok behind her. Inside the large Barrack-tent sat six cots each with one pillow (that looked suspiciously like a rock, Kathryn thought disdainfully) and blanket, spread out along the walls of the tent. It wasn't the Tower of Magi, but it would do for now. Spotting her own brown leather bag sitting atop a bed, Kathryn made her way towards it, sitting down upon the padded surface. She reached behind her and removed the scabbard and her staff from their fixtures on her back, watching as Tuvok made his way to a bed close to hers, setting his bag ontop of it before undoing his belt, hanging it on a nearby peg.

"I will remain awake and I will notify you when it is time to awaken." Tuvok told her in his usual manner, yet the glance he shot at her told her that if she knew what was good for her, she'd simply comply.

"Alright," Kathryn surrendered, chuckling quietly as she leaned her staff against the nearby tent wall , placing her new sword beside it. "Although, it'll be kind of weird trying to sleep while you're watching."

"I will endeavour to not look your way, then." Tuvok replied, making Kathryn laugh as he ruffled through his back, undoubtedly searching for a book.

"Reading a book, huh?" Kathryn chuckled, wishing she had thought of taking some of the books from the Library in the Tower.

"Yes." Was all the elven man said as he sat back into his cot, relaxing against the pillow and padded mattress of the cot while continuing to face toward the door. Feeling the conversation was over, Kathryn spread the provided blanket out before sitting down upon it, unlacing her boots before kicking them off, the leather falling to the floor. Exhausted, the young woman slid herself under the covers and flopped her head onto the pillow. Feeling decidedly emotionally numb – and curiously starving – Kathryn closed her eyes and found peace in the blissful night that sleep brought.

---

Darkness encroached, hands lunging at her and gripping onto her naked, clammy form. A low rumbling roar filled her ears, filling her heart with dread. Within a flash, the darkness changed into a dark blood red sky filled with low hanging black clouds and loud cracking thunder. Like ooze, Ostagar rose from the cracked ground, covered in the Blight, a black sickness spreading across the face of the ruins and the ground, reaching out towards her. At first, she couldn't concentrate her gaze on it, but as time drew on she could make out twenty three stick like shapes with a bulb at the top. She was horrified to realise that they were heads upon a pike, blood still leaking out of the decapitation wound. And as the Blight reached her and began crawling up her legs, tainting her body and making her scream, Kathryn saw her face on a decapitated head alongside Tuvok, Duncan, Alistair and the rest of the Grey Wardens all staring back at her with the same mortified expression.

Gasping for breath, Kathryn jolted awake, a short sharp scream leaving wine coloured lips as she tumbled out of the bed, landing unceremoniously on top of her boots. Jumping out from his perch on his bed, Tuvok leapt to Kathryn's side, hands going to her quivering shoulders. The images still fresh in her mind, Kathryn launched herself at Tuvok, wrapping arms tightly around his midsection while sobbing into his shoulder and for the first time Tuvok remembered that in his arms was not a battle-hardened warrior, like himself, but a young woman that had spent most of her life locked within a tower. Perhaps the trip into the Korcari Wilds had been enough to break her fragile mind? After a few minutes the quivering and sobs subsided and Kathryn retracted herself from him, a determination in her eyes that he had seen many times before. No, he thought, there is nothing that could break her. She is far too strong for that. He watched as she wiped at her nose and eyes, the quiver in her hands gone.

"Are you alright, Kathryn?" Tuvok asked, obviously concerned as the young woman sat upon her cot to begin the arduous task of putting her boots on.

Kathryn glanced up, a very small wan smile upon her lips. "I am fine, Tuvok. Thank you." She whispered. "I had a nightmare, that's all." She wouldn't tell him how much it had shaken her, even though she gathered that he knew already. "Is it time?" She asked as she finished lacing her boots and standing. She grabbed her new sword and staff, standing there watching her oldest friend as he stood.

"The meeting will begin in half an hour, Kathryn. Would you like me to accompany you?"

"No, thank you, Tuvok. I think I should go by myself. You should secure some provisions from the Quartermaster for the battle tomorrow."

"I will also secure food for dinner," He promised, bowing his head. Kathryn smiled gratefully up at him, wondering just what she would do without him.

"I am glad you are here, my friend. Thank you for insisting you travel with me."

"There was no other acceptable course of action." Tuvok said, but inclined his head nonetheless. "However I am glad that you appreciate my presence here." He bowed his head to her before leaving the tent, leaving her on her own and to her thoughts as they raced about her mind causing all sort of ruckus.

Finally she herself left the Grey Warden tent, sword and staff placed once again in the mechanism on her back, sealed tight until she herself removed them. Peering up into the sky Kathryn frowned at the partly over-cast night sky. Being interested in Astronomy meant she had access to the Tower of Magi's many astronomical charts as well as the astral convalescence, something which Kai Tunre, the mage in charge of it called a "telescope". A lot of her nights were spent gazing at the stars, hence she knew the patterns of the clouds and she could tell that it would rain fairly soon – something that she was not looking forward to, particularly in this dank camp. And after that horrifying dream, Kathryn wanted some kind of peace, one that she got only from looking at the star filled sky.

She had twenty minutes until she had to be at the meeting. She didn't feel like exploring Ostagar, not after what had occurred in her dream. It was then that she remembered the contents of her belt and she reached into the back pocket, feeling the flower and the picture there. Taking out both, Kathryn gazed down at the ice blue eyes and blonde hair, feeling oddly comforted by the woman in the portrait. She then turned her eyes to the flower and inspected it, remembering the kennelmasters plea of her. Without thought, Kathryn made her way to the kennel.

"Grey Warden!" The Kennelmaster said as soon as she arrived. "It is an honour." He bowed and crosses his wrists over his chest, something which made Kathryns eyebrows rise. How curious. She had been treated with respect before, and yet now this man was being reverent in his attention almost! She wondered a little at that.

"Ser," Kathryn replied in greeting, inclining her head in recognition. "I have something that you asked for," She said, holding out the flower that she had taken from the Korcari Wilds. The mans eyes brightened instantly as he saw what she held out and with a smile she gave it to him.

"Thank you, Grey Warden!" He said as he took the flower, looking over it. "I didn't think I'd be able to get a hold of this. Thank you very much."

Kathryn smiled. "It was no trouble, really. But please, I insist you hurry in using it. That Mabari really needs it."

The man nodded vigourously. "At once, Grey Warden." With that the man unlatched the wooden kennel door and moved inside to assist the dog leaving Kathryn alone once more. Knowing that she had about ten minutes before the beginning of the meeting, Kathryn wandered over towards where she had met Kes a few hours before, a little surprised to see her still there, making healing poultices.

"You must have made hundreds of those," Kathryn mused as she walked up to the half-elf.

"One thousand and forty seven, actually," Kes corrected, a soft smile spreading across her face as she looked up at Kathryn. "Congratulations are in order, Kathryn. You're a Grey Warden now. You honour me."

Kathryn barked a soft laugh. "I don't feel any different than before, Kes." The woman inclined her head and returned to making poultices.

"You're a Grey Warden – you both command and demand respect. I am... worried for you, however, even though if you were to be accepted into the Grey Wardens it would indicate that you could take care of yourself... that is to say, I am worried about the battle tomorrow. I'm leaving Ostagar after I finish this batch," She indicated her bags beside her, "so I won't be here... but I do worry."

Kathryn reached forward and gently grasped the woman's shoulder, the woman in question looking up and smiling wanly.

"I worry too," Kathryn said honestly. "But I have a duty to uphold," she swallowed, "and if I die tomorrow, then I can be at peace knowing that I died to ensure Ferelden's safety from the Blight." She squeezed Kes' shoulder and smiled reassuringly at her. "But I doubt that'll happen. At any rate, if you're returning to the Tower, please tell the First Enchanter how much I appreciate everything that the circle has given me."

Kes smiled. "I will, Kathryn." She left her potion making for a few seconds to wrap her arms around the newest Grey Warden who in return hugged her close. "Do be safe."

"You as well, Kes." Kathryn raised a hand to her friends short blonde hair and pressed her nose to her temple. "Give my love to Mark."

"I will." They parted, each looking into the others eyes. "He will miss you."

"I will be sure to visit when first available."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate that." Kathryn inclined her head, her eyes tracking movement behind Kes.

"Looks like it's time for me to go." Kathryn said letting out a sigh as she watched Teyrn Chakotay stride from his tent towards the temple part of the ruins where the meeting was to be taking place. She looked back down at Kes. "I will visit the Tower as soon as able," She promised. The two women watched each other for a few long moments before hugging each other tightly.

"You be careful, Kathryn." Kes whispered into the vibrant redheads ear. Kathryn swallowed and nodded. The realisation that she was going to be fighting in a war hit her like a tonne of bricks, but amazingly she managed to keep standing. She wasn't frightened... she was almost anxious. They soon parted and Kathryn attempted her most convincing smile.

"I will see you again." Her mind filled with wild, rampant thoughts, Kathryn made her way from Kes' side towards the old ruins, the 'temple' of the outpost which had long since fallen into disrepair. Her thoughts were on her old home within the Circle and the life she had had before her – being apprentice to the First Enchanter himself to one day take over his position. She was paired with Mark and they would have had a wonderful life together.

But at what price? She mused, thinking back on the Chantry. The Chantry had good intentions... but they went about it completely the wrong way, letting their prejudices and fear of the unknown guide them. Glancing back at Kes who laboured over two massive cauldrons, small form dwarfed by them, Kathryn's gaze focused in on the Templar that stood nearby, forever shadowing the very gentle mage. Kes would never hurt anyone or even allow herself to be used to hurt anyone, so gentle a soul was she. And yet the Chantry still kept a watchful eye over her, as if she were a demon lying in wait.

As a Grey Warden, Kathryn was free of that. There would be no Templar shadowing her, nor did she have to answer to the Chantry. She had always noticed the watchful eyes of the Templars while she had been a Tower Apprentice, but she had always believed it was a necessity. Now, free of that oppressive Chantry's grasp, Kathryn wondered how she ever stood it.

"Chakotay, my decision is final. I will stand by the Grey Wardens in this assault." Kathryn heard the loud voice of the young King resonate through the collapsed stone walls of the ages old ruins. There was a hint of exasperation in the young Kings voice that Kathryn could detect as she approached. The men, Duncan, King Cailan and Teyrn Chakotay stood around a large, incredibly long table which had tomes and maps spread over its mahogany surface. Teyrn Chakotay stood with his hands clasped behind his back, a rigid militaristic pose as he regarded the King with dark eyes. Kathryn walked around them silently, eyes locking on Duncan's as she came to stop beside him. They acknowledged each others presence before watching the two strong willed men discuss the upcoming battle.

"You risk too much, Cailan!" The Teyrn said with a familiarity brought only from being the King's father-in-law and most trusted adviser. In his tone was the same kind of exasperation that Cailan had, yet Kathryn knew that Chakotay's exasperation lay in Cailan's unwillingness to see reason – Kings never fought on the front line, no matter what. Kathryn regarded the men cooly. "The Darkspawn horde is too dangerous for you to be playing hero on the front lines!"

"If that's the case," King Cailan said, crossing his arms across his front in an expression that Kathryn thought made him look like a petulant child, "then perhaps we should wait for the Orlesian forces after all!"

The Teyrn's face darkened considerably. "I must protest to your fool notion that we need the Orlesians," the man almost spat the word, "to defend ourselves." Chakotay turned away from the King, a dark scowl written across his face.

"It is not a fool notion," King Cailan insisted. "Our arguments with the Orlesians are a thing of the past, and you will do well to remember who is King."

"How fortunate," The Teyrn began, voice positively dripping with sarcasm, "that Maric didn't live to see his son so ready to hand Ferelden to those who enslaved us for over a century!"

"Then our current forces will have to suffice." Cailan said in a tone that brooked no argument. Kathryn was slightly surprised when the young man turned around in one swift movement, bright eyes locking on to Duncan. "Duncan. Are your men ready for battle?"

"They are, my liege."

"Good. Ah!" The King's eyes warmed perceptively when they found Kathryn, a broad smile crossing his face. He moved closer to the table and Kathryn instinctively bowed her head in respect to the man. "My lady. It is good to see you once more."

"Likewise, Ser." Kathryn replied as she straightened, returning the smile.

"I understand that congratulations are in order." A slight shadow crossed over the man's face, and it was at that moment that Kathryn realised that Cailan knew about the joining.

"Thank you, your Majesty." Kathryn allowed, frowning slightly. "I do not feel worthy of such congratulations, however."

King Cailan smiled grandly. "Oh, but you are! The Grey Wardens are important and every one is needed, now more than ever."

The Teyrn butted in. "Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, Cailan! We must attend to reality."

King Cailan, his back to the Teyrn rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. "Very well. Speak your strategy." The King bent over the table, eyes pouring over the large ink map of the ruins of Ostagar and the surrounding area. "The Grey Wardens and I draw the Darkspawn into charging our front lines and then...?"

Chakotay approached, likewise bending over the table and map, intent upon the task infront of him. "You will alert the tower to light the beacon, signalling my men to charge from cover."

"To flank the Darkspawn. I remember." King Cailan said, pointing to an area on the map, a depiction of a large, grand tower. "This is the Tower of Ishal, is it not? In the ruins?" The King straightened. "Who shall light this beacon?"

"I have a few men stationed there. It is not a dangerous task, but it is however vital."

"Then we should send our best." King Cailan's eyes locked upon Duncan. "Send Alistair and Kathryn to make sure it's done. They can join the battle once the beacon has been lit."

Both Kathryn and Duncan nodded. Kathryn spared a glance at the man beside her who looked perfectly calm and collected. Kathryn herself knew that on the outside she looked calm. It was odd, and slightly disconcerting, but she was glad that her unease wasn't visible to the men around her.

"You rely on these Grey Wardens too much." Teyrn Chakotay said skeptically. "Are you sure that's wise?"

"Enough of your conspiracy theories, Chakotay. Grey Wardens battle the Blight, no matter who they are, what they do or where they're from."

"Your Majesty," A circle mage approached, eyes lowered slightly. His demeanour was entirely submissive as he spoke to the King, and Kathryn idly wondered if she had appeared like that when she had first met the King. "The Tower and its beacon are unnecessary. The circle of magi-"

"We will not trust our lives to your spells, Mage!" A priestess who was nearby spat, eyes narrowing at the almost cowering mage. Out of the corner of her eye Kathryn detected two templars standing beside a pillar, eyes homed in on the lone mage, straightening up as if detecting a threat. As the priestess spoke, Kathryn felt her ire rise and she wondered if it showed on her face, sure it was red with all the heat that suffused her skin. "You could endanger all of our lives. Let none of us forget that it has been Mages that brought the Blight upon us in the first place! Save your spells for the Darkspawn."

"Enough!" Teyrn Chakotay said, walking closer towards the mage and the priestess. He pointed at the priestess. "I have had enough of this. The Circle has been instrumental in the defence against the Blight while all your priests and priestesses do is spout platitudes about a God that has abandoned us, even created the Darkspawn." He turned to King Cailan. "This plan shall suffice. The Grey Wardens will light the beacon."

"Thank you, Chakotay," King Cailan said, shooting a harsh glance at the priestess nearby. "I cannot wait for that glorious moment." The Kings eyes glossed over, staring skyward as he imagined battles of epic proportions. "The Grey Wardens battle alongside the King of Ferelden to stem the tide of evil!"

Teyrn Chakotay, obviously having enough of the proceedings turned away, a scowl written across his face. "Yes... a glorious moment for us all." Kathryn wondered if he meant anything more by that. Yet before she could think on it any further, a shout sounded from the gates, alerting the groups attention.

"Darkspawn!" The terrified scout shrieked, running towards them, leather boots pounding on the stone. "The Darkspawn are coming!" Kathryn felt her heart clench before hammering on right up into her throat. "The Darkspawn are coming!"

There was a sigh from Teyrn Chakotay. From behind, Kathryn could see King Cailan set his shoulders determinedly. The King looked back at them and studied them for a few moments before saying in a calm voice, "Ready the men. We march tonight."

---

Shortly after the King's proclamation, the camp within Ostagar became incredibly busy – soldiers running back and forth preparing and marching towards the gates that led toward the battlefield. The Circle Mages and Priests and Priestesses that were not staying for the duration of the final battle were all hastily evacuated. The Grey Wardens had met around a large firepit near their tent, discussing their upcoming role... and what would occur if an Archdemon were to appear. For a reason that was never explained, the oldest Grey Warden, a man slightly older than Duncan was chosen. The mans shoulders set underneath the thick leather armour he wore, augmented by plate. His blue eyes narrowed and he bowed his head respectfully, wrists crossing over the front of his chest. The other Grey Wardens regarded him almost sorrowfully... but gratefully. Curious, Kathryn had asked why the others were reacting in such a way, but no answer was forthcoming.

Alistair was slightly upset that he wouldn't be in the main phase of the battle ahead, although Kathryn was undoubtedly relieved. She didn't have the combat experience as Alistair, Tuvok or any of the other mages did – just out of her Harrowing as she was.

"The Tower of Ishal," Alistair said quietly. "So, what," he said as he turned to face Duncan, "we're going to be there holding up the torch – just in case, right?"

"It's an important task and it needs to be done." Kathryn said, raising an eyebrow at the young man beside her. She turned her blue grey eyes to Duncan. "It'll be done." She threw a glance over her shoulder. "We should get moving. The Horde will soon be upon us."

"Indeed it will. Once the beacon has been lit..." Duncan glanced over at Alistair as he spoke animatedly with Tuvok. "Keep Alistair away from the battle."

"Any reason?"

"He is often rash and charges into battle without thinking, using his head. It's unlikely you'll encounter any resistance, which is why I am relieved that King Cailan gave you both this duty. Tuvok will be going with you, yes?"

"Indeed, Duncan. He refused to march with the rest of the army, insisting that his place was at my side."

"He is loyal." Duncan chuckled, but it was strained. The older, tanned man lifted his hands and rested them on Kathryn's shoulders, a gesture which Kathryn thought was alien to the man. "Be safe, Kathryn. There is part of me that wishes I did not tear you away from the safety of the Tower of Magi. Yet this was the only way."

"Only way for what?" Kathryn asked, not understanding at all. The man chuckled again and patted her shoulders, a gesture that didn't comfort her in the least and aroused more questions than it answered.

"Worry not. All will become clear after the battle is over. I will see you again, Kathryn." He retracted his hands and bowed deeply to her in respect, wrists crossed over his chest. "In War, victory. In Peace, vigilance."

"In Death, sacrifice." Kathryn whispered as she likewise bowed, recalling the Grey Warden motto which Duncan had on several occasions mentioned during their long trip to Ostagar. "Be well, Duncan. I will await your return."

They embraced, Duncan wrapping his arms around her in a familiarity that she couldn't fathom. "All will be explained," He reiterated again as she wrapped her arms hesitantly around him. Before long, he was gone, leaving Kathryn standing alone, Tuvok and Alistair approaching.

"What was that all about?" Alistair asked as he sidled up to Kathryn. "I've never seen him hug anyone before. Didn't think he was capable of it!"

"I don't know." She shook herself out of her reverie, determined blue grey eyes focusing skyward towards the Tower of Ishal, back where she had arrived earlier that day. She let out a long breath, before nodding in it's direction. "We should go and prepare to light the beacon." Not waiting for the others, Kathryn started back towards the road she had originally come from, towards the Tower of Ishal. After a few moments she heard Tuvok and Alistair fall into step behind her, letting the diminutive mage lead them both to what would be just a simple mission of lighting a beacon and waiting for the Kings army to succeed in their battle and put an end to the Blight.

---

The clouds overhead were full, fit to burst over the battlefield and turn the already soft marsh ground into mud. Men and women, young and old stood underneath the blanket of clouds as night descended completely, weapons still resting in their sheaths, upon backs or on belts. The Army proper that waited in the battlefield just outside of the gates to Ostagar stood with straight backs and determined shoulders, their arms held out at their sides and grasping the elbows of the soldiers on either side of them. As soft drops of rain began to fall, two of the priestesses who remained behind began chanting, offering a prayer to the Maker to protect the army. Up above the army and sitting upon a bridge along the Kings Highway stood scores of archers and engineers- their role to provide support from afar by utilising bows, arrows and ballista, large machines made out of wood and metal that would send massive spears into the ranks of the enemy, killing scores in their wake. Along side the battlefield stood part of the ruins of the outpost, utilised now as King Cailans vantage point above the heads of the men. Resolutely he stared ahead, eyes narrowing as he, like the army, watched as the Horde approached.

Black monstrous creatures approached, marching in sync towards one goal. They bore weapons and armour that looked to be falling apart at the seams, yet the men and women all knew that even though they were more well equipped than the Darkspawn and better trained, the Darkspawn had the advantage of sheer force of numbers. Looking out into the night, King Cailan could see no end to the approaching Horde. Swallowing, the young King reached behind him and his helmet was placed in his hands. He pulled the metal over his head and gripped his sword, unsheathing it. The two armies, the Ferelden and the Darkspawn Horde faced each other down, until suddenly the Darkspawn launched forward as one and without any given order – none that the Ferelden army could see.

"Arrows!" King Cailan called over the loud din of the horde approaching, plated feet banging against the ground. "Loose!"

At the Kings order, scores of arrows were loosed from the lines, sailing over the top of the Ferelden army and towards the oncoming horde, arrowheads thrusting deep into seared, distorted black flesh, felling many of the oncoming horde. But where one fell, ten took it's place.

"Release the hounds!"

The Mabari which had begun snapping madly at the oncoming horde were finally let loose from their Ash Warrior masters, bounding forward on strong, powerful legs towards the horde. As soon as the first Mabari reached the oncoming lines of the horde, King Cailan thrust his sword above his head and shouted a battle cry, one which resonated throughout the small Ferelden army. "For Ferelden!" Another volley of arrows was let loose, and the Ferelden army charged forward to meet the Darkspawn.

Kathryn Elerya Jarwin stared down at the battlefield as she stepped out onto the large bridge leading towards the massive Tevinter tower known as the Tower of Ishal along the Kings Highway. The men stationed on the bridge were working hurriedly – sending arrows into the horde that fought with their army on the battlefield below while the men at the ballista let loose the large, heavy bolts shooting out into the oncoming horde.

"The Tower of Ishal is just across the bridge," Alistair said needlessly over the din of the fighting, a hand raising to his eyes to keep the stinging drops of rain out of his eyes. Soaked now, the trio began making their way across the other side of the bridge, intent on their goal so much that they didn't notice the on coming fireball.

"Kathryn!" Tuvok yelled, attracting the young woman's attention enough to make her stop, a large fireball crashing into the men infront of her. She was flung back by the force of the large fireball, and by the impact Kathryn could tell that several darkspawn spellcasters were behind the powerful balls of fire. Tuvok, bent over her with an outstretched hand to assist her, made sure that the slightly rattled young woman was fine before hauling her to her feet. Safe, and making sure to keep an eye on approaching fireballs cast from the Darkspawn horde, the trio powered their way along the bridge. As they approached the courtyard infront of the steps leading to the tower's area, Kathryn idly remembered this was where she had first met the King only this morning. Stirring her from her thoughts were two men who charged down the steps from the Towers courtyard, yelling at her incomprehensibly.

"Hold on!" Alistair yelled back over the loud rain. "What is going on? Why aren't you at your post!"

"The tower is overrun!" One of the young men said, quivering, caked in blood. His dark hair was dishevelled and slicked against his head, matted. He was gasping in air, chest heaving as he gave his report. "Darkspawn! The tower is lost!"

"We were ambushed. The-the Darkspawn flooded the tower, killing everyone. We're lucky we managed to escape!"

Kathryn stared at the man dumbly for a moment. "That's impossible – how did the Horde get ahead of the army?" Not letting any of them answer, Kathryn shook her head, jaw setting. "Alright. You two," She said to the quivering young men infront of her knowing they'd be entirely useless to her, feeling oddly calm herself, "you go and assist the men on the bridge. Keep an eye on the fireballs. We'll handle this." As the two young men scurried away, Kathryn fixed Alistair and Tuvok her best command stare. "Let's clean up this mess." She said with resolve, jaw clenching slightly. Without saying a word, both Tuvok and Alistair removed their weapons – Alistair his sword and shield, Tuvok his broadsword. Kathryn's fingers twitched as the trio ascended the stairs, the tell-tale static of electricity sparking in purple light around her fingertips.

They ascended into the courtyard, surrounded by stone walls and wooden forts. It was quiet, far too quiet, the only sound being the rain and the hammering of Kathryn's heart in her chest. Something, she didn't know quite what made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Reacting quickly to whatever it was, Kathryn stepped back into the personal space of Tuvok and Alistair, her hands spreading apart as she summoned a shield made of arcane energy. Almost as soon as she had done so, an arrow flew into the side of the protective shield. After the first arrow hit, the trio were under a barrage of arrows, held at bay only by Kathryn as she stood in between Alistair and Tuvok, the former looking on in shock and the latter in his own variation of pride as Kathryn repelled each arrow sent their way. When the arrows were exhausted, the Darkspawn charged and gratefully, Kathryn withdrew the shield, staggering backwards slightly as Tuvok and Alistair rushed forward to engage the masses of Darkspawn.

Recovering from her previous expenditure, Kathryn held herself back, launching fireballs and bolts of lightning into the fray, followed by the odd bolt of arcane magic. Despite the trio's best attempts, they were being over-run by the Darkspawn.

"We need a plan!" Alistair cried over the battle, sparring with three Darkspawn before decapitating one of them with his shield, sending it's body into the other two's with a kick of his leg. "Fast!" He cried as he began engaging a Hurloc about to attack Tuvok from behind.

"Perhaps it will be like it was in the Korcari Wilds!" Kathryn shouted over the din as she sent a fireball into a group of oncoming Darkspawn, sending them flying. "Perhaps their numbers will be eventually exhausted!" However, Kathryn had no idea how she could maintain her mana at the rate she was going. Every second she was firing off another spell, and she felt herself grow steadily more and more exhausted as a horrible headache began settling in. Finally exhausting her mana supply, Kathryn reached over her head and gripped the hilt of Reisende and pulled it from it's scabbard. The air was filled with sword song as the blade was unsheathed, singing out into the dreary night, metal ringing. For a moment, Kathryn experienced a moment of clarity and strength, the blade fitting into her hand as if it had been made to be wielded by her. In one fluid movement, Kathryn joined the battle, felling several Darkspawn in just a few strokes, thanking Tuvok for his tuition in the art of defence the previous summer.

She wondered if she should be disgusted as she hefted the lightweight sword, swinging it with ease to decapitate a nearby Hurloc, it's corrupted blood arcing through the air to spray against her and her previously immaculate (yet soaked) white robes. Yet, despite having some previous training with a sword, Kathryn was not anywhere as good as she needed to be, particularly when the blows the Darkspawn were raining down upon her were reverberating up her arms and making her teeth clatter in her head. Desperately, Kathryn fiddled with a pocket on her belt, searching for a lyrium potion that would rejuvinate her and give her the advantage she needed – magic.

Bringing the flask to her lips, Kathryn deflected a blow from an oncoming Genlock, her leg lashing out as she kicked the short darkspawn in the face sending it sprawling into the mud. Drinking the lyrium, Kathryn was vulnerable for a moment – a moment that she could not afford. Before she knew what was happening, a Hurloc's sledgehammer impacted with the side of her head, sending her crashing to the ground and knocking the breath out of her lungs in one, big whoosh. Immediately the Hurloc leapt ontop of her and in her disorientated state, Kathryn thrashed madly as the Darkspawn grabbed at her throat, intent on choking her to death. Her pale thin hands gripped at the Darkspawn, legs kicking madly as she struggled against the Hurloc, her heart thumping high into her throat.

It was with a great relief Alistair bounded into the Hurloc shield first, ripping the Darkspawn off of her with his momentum and tumbling down a slight decline to crash against one of the wooden forts. Head pounding, Kathryn scrambled to her feet, hands coming alight with magical energy. Before the remnants of the horde that ambushed them knew what was happening, a large blast of flame leapt from Kathryn's fingertips and washed over them, scorching their skin and burning them to cinders, Tuvok dancing back out of the line of the fire, batting at his arm which had caught aflame after a Hurloc grabbed at him.

Adrenaline pumping in her veins, Kathryn gasped in air, the headache from lack of mana being replaced with the headache of having taken a sledgehammer to the head as she staggered towards Tuvok, Reisende now resting loosely in her grip, dragging against the muddy ground. As Tuvok appraised her, Kathryn stared at the large burn mark on his arm, feeling a certain amount of guilt at having hurt the man who now gently probed a wound on the side of Kathryn's head.

"You are injured," He said quietly. Kathryn wondered how he could be so calm after such a battle. Looking into his eyes, Kathryn saw that he wasn't. Only because she knew him so well she knew that Tuvok was terrified. He frowned at her, reaching to his belt to grab a healing poultice. "This should assist you." He gave her the poultice and forced her to drink it all, despite her dislike for the taste. She turned as Alistair dragged himself back up the incline he had previously fallen down, grunting with the effort of moving in the sloshy mud.

"You alright, Kathryn?" Alistair asked as he trudged over to them, watching as Kathryn drank from the healing poultice, hands shaking. "I saw what happened – Maker, what a blow!"

"Yes, it was," Kathryn gasped wryly, wishing her vision would stop spinning. She finished gulping the horrible tasting poultice down and handed the empty flask back to Tuvok, who placed it back in his belt for re-use. "Let's go."

"And hope that we're lucky enough that ascending the Tower won't be as painful as that!"

---

It turned out they weren't very lucky at all.

The halls of the tower were filled with Darkspawn and the corpses of Teyrn Chakotay's men.

"Just great," Alistair breathed quietly as they slowly entered the bottom floor of the Tower. The first room was empty, but beyond that lay a complete massacre, the barricades alight with fire. Not for the first time, Kathryn wondered just how the Darkspawn were doing as they were doing – employing tactics. According to her readings while she had been a mage in the tower, the Darkspawn were all mindless and soulless. And yet, from what Kathryn was discerning, they were laying traps – she could barely see a trip wire lining the entrance of the way into the next room – and they were setting up ambushes, making it so that if they wanted to continue into the next room they would be forced into a bottle neck where one fireball from an enemy mage could finish them off – if there was an enemy mage at all. She couldn't see around a large pile of rubble that obscured half of the room, and from what she could tell, Alistair and Tuvok could not either.

"Plan, anyone?" Alistair asked as he flexed his shoulders and arched his neck, stretching to help ease out the knots that had formed in his muscles. "I don't think we'll get very far if we charge in."

"Agreed." Kathryn heard Tuvok say as she turned around, watching the two men infront of her after studying the problem ahead. How would they be able to proceed without becoming charred corpses?

"I could create an arcane shield like before," Kathryn offered, glancing out into the room once again to take stock of the situation. "Although I can probably take out those three Darkspawn," she pointed out three Darkspawn Hurlocs standing across the room close together with bows in their hands, "with a well placed fireball."

"Yeah, but that might attract a fireball in our direction too before you're ready to create a shield," Alistair countered, hands gesturing in an exasperated manner. He, like Tuvok and Kathryn, was coated in mud, rain and blood, looking and feeling every bit like a chew toy for a Mabari, used and spat out. Each time he gestured something dripped off his extremities, looking every bit wary. If this was how they there faring, Kathryn didn't want to know how the King was going, out on the battlefield facing a horde much more horrifying than this.

"Alright, then." Kathryn said, gripping her sword tightly and swinging it in her hand, testing the weight of the blade, feeling comfort in the feel of it being weightless and entirely moulded to her hand. "Tuvok." She turned to the dark skinned elf who regarded her with a stoic expression. "Can you take out those three Hurlocs there with just your daggers by aiming either through or over the barricades?"

Tuvok turned his head and judged the distance, chocolate eyes calculating with calm detachedness. "I believe I could, Kathryn." The man latched his broadsword against his back and took two knives that had been strapped to the sides of his calves, hands gripping them and feeling their weight in their palms, as if reacquainting themselves with a lost friend.

Kathryn nodded gratefully in his direction, knowing that his other dagger that sat on his belt would be used to take out the third. "Here's the plan. Tuvok, you throw the daggers at the Hurlocs. As soon as they're loose I'll make the shield, then you, Alistair, lead a charge into that bottleneck and you can use your shield to bash down whoever's hiding behind all of that rubble." Kathryn leaned out and took another cursory glance around the room, cursing the mountain of rubble obscuring half of the room from view.

"Kathryn, you realise that there is no margin for error in this?" Tuvok asked, raising an eyebrow at the young redhead. "Should something go wrong, we will have failed in our mission, the King will surely perish and Ferelden will shortly fall."

Smiling wanly, Kathryn nodded. "I understand. But let's make sure it doesn't come to that." The three got into position, Alistair standing in front and to the right with Kathryn and Tuvok standing just outside of the Hurloc's view, obscured by a large column in the adjoined room, side by side. After a moment to prepare, Kathryn gave the order. "Now!"

With deadly precision and accuracy, Tuvok let loose his three daggers in quick succession – each sailing through the air, over the barricades and rocketing through the air to slice into the skulls of the three Hurlocs standing opposite. In that same moment, Alistair moved into position infront of Kathryn and Tuvok, shield raised high over his body and sword clenched tightly in a splintmailed fist, Kathryn holding her hands out from her body as she summoned to her finger tips the crackling energy to create the arcane shield. Just as both Kathryn and Tuvok thought, a fireball was immediately dispatched towards their location, firing from a Genlock who had appeared from behind the rubble. In the instant just before it was about to reach them, Kathryn expanded her arcane shield and the fireball exploded as it impacted with the sparkling magic. The shield blinked before faltering, Kathryn sinking to her knees at the expenditure of such energy, breath leaving her in a solid hoot as both Tuvok and Alistair rushed forward into the bottleneck. Tuvok leapt over one lot of barricades and dived into a Hurloc, broadsword slicing it neatly in horizontal halves while Alistair bashed his shield into the Genlock mage, cracking it's skull with the blow and ending it's life with a quick stab to it's heart. From behind the rubble, chaos erupted and both Alistair and Tuvok dived in opposite directions to avoid a volley of bow fire. It wasn't long before the two men were pinned down – Alistair hiding behind the rubble in the bottleneck created by the barricades with Tuvok hiding behind a large pillar within the circular room, arrows raining down upon them. It wasn't long before the Genlocks moved forward to attack in ambush when Kathryn, recovered from the arcane shield leapt into the fray, sword firmly in place on her back. Moving forward towards the oncoming onslaught of Genlocks wielding swords, Kathryn raised her hands high above her head before swinging them back down and thrusting them out, fire flying from her fingertips to envelop the Darkspawn. Even as the Darkspawn's soulless screams filled the air, they still charged and it was with swift movements that Kathryn dispatched them, flinging bolts of arcane energy into those that didn't fall from the initial burst of fire. A rustle of movement from her right alerted Kathryn to a Hurloc raging towards her, sword raised above it's head in preparation of swinging. Stumbling backwards, Kathryn raised her hands and prepared a charge of lighting in her palms when Tuvok threw his broadsword from his position beside the column he had been hiding behind, the large blade soaring through the air like a javelin and imbedding itself directly in the Hurlocs skull. The force of the blow knocked the Hurloc to the right and Kathryn watched as it skittered across the floor for a few moments, the metal of it's armour scraping across the stone floor before stopping dead barely a meter from her. Looking up at Tuvok, she suddenly became aware of the sounds of her rasping intake of breath – exhausted as she was and aware just how close she had come to being run through.

"Tuvok," Kathryn breathed, indebted to the man infront of her as he approached, a dark hand lowered in her direction to assist her up. Looking about herself, she realised that at some point she had fallen to the floor and had been crawling backwards through blood and grime. Grabbing his hand, she hoisted herself up onto quivering legs. I am not cut out for this! She inwardly groaned, stretching her shoulders and arching her neck as she felt aches appear in places she didn't even know she had. "Thank you, my friend. Where's Alistair?"

"Over here!" The young man dragged himself from behind the rubble, emerging from a cloud of dust and smoke to walk towards them, raising an eyebrow at the broadsword Tuvok attempted to pull from the head of the Hurloc he had maimed with the large blade. "That was... that was...!" The young man puffed, running a hand through his hair. "That was shocking."

Kathryn nodded, grateful for the slight break and the chance to recover. Taking the time to force her heart back into her chest from where it had imbedded itself in her throat, Kathryn shook her head vigourously. "I have never... never in my life thought I'd... see such, such..."

"Evil?"

"Yes!" Kathryn said, wiping her hands against her thighs. "For lack of a better word." Raising her eyes, Kathryn watched as Tuvok cleaned his blade against the leg of his pants, chocolate eyes locked on her own blue/grey ones. In those depths Kathryn knew that Tuvok was aware of just how terrified she was. If she hadn't been close to him, she probably wouldn't have noticed the tightness around his eyes and a concerned gaze directed at her. But because she was, she was every bit aware that Tuvok knew just how scared she was and how hard it was to not pick herself up and run from the bottom floor of the tower. Lowering her head, Kathryn turned her eyes to the Darkspawn that lay on the ground around her, faces twisted into horrific snarls. As she stared into their lifeless eyes, Kathryn once again questioned the events that led her to this point. Was it truly only a few days ago that she had been sitting within the warm confines of the Tower of Magi, expecting a life of prestige within the Tower Circle as the First Enchanters personal apprentice, one that would eventually take over his job? And now where was she? Sitting in a pile of Darkspawn carcass in a delapidated old stone tower on a mission to clear out the tower (which shouldn't have been overrun in the first place – something which Kathryn found incredibly odd) and light the beacon, with no chance of returning to the Circle of Magi although in some ways for that she was grateful.

Deciding she had enough of a rest, Kathryn dragged herself up, looking about the circular room. Alistair stood by the door, shield and sword out as he maintained a watch on the corridors leading further in to the tower while Tuvok retrieved his daggers, wiping the blood that coated the blades on his pants. The dark skinned elf, finished with his business walked over to her, inclining his head. "The plan was successful."

Kathryn raised a hand. "We still have several floors of tower to climb, my friend." She reached behind her and pulled her sword from it's scabbard, a light metallic song filling the air and oddly bringing her comfort. She moved towards Alistair, shaking her shoulders in hopes of removing the knot that had formed in between them, a frown settling onto her face as her wet red hair flopped into her face. Not conducive to battle. She thought, flicking the strand out of her eyes.

"It would be prudent to hurry, Kathryn." Tuvok said, gripping the hilts of his dagger and longsword that rested on his belt. "It is entirely possible that the Darkspawn have delayed us so that we have missed the signal."

Kathryn blanched at that, tongue flicking out to lick her lips, a hand going to her hip as she thought. "Okay, that isn't too good." She rubbed at her forehead and spoke to Alistair. "What are the chances Teyrn Chakotay will send his men in case we don't reach the beacon?"

"Highly unlikely," Alistair offered. "Teyrn Chakotay is by the book. If he says he'll follow a signal, that's what he'll expect. So we better hurry. And not fail, of course."

"Oh, of course." Kathryn muttered, sucking in a deep breath. "Let's do it, people."

The three readied themselves before marching through the archway leading to a corridor, following the walls to a door at the end. As soon as the door was opened, the trio were assailed by masses of Darkspawn. Kathryn in the lead, the young woman greeted the Darkspawn with fire, her left hand reached outward with flames shooting out from the tips and encompassing the oncoming Darkspawn. When she could sustain the spell no longer, she fell back behind Tuvok and Alistair who began charging through the horde, cutting the ones that survived and bashing the rest down with Kathryn ending their existence with a quick thrust of her sword. The trio fought their way valiantly through two hallways, spilling forth into another circular room. Thanking the Maker that this room was filled with only five Darkspawn, Kathryn summoned several bolts of lightning and arcane energy, sending them into the attacking Darkspawn, two of them careening into a nearby wall while the other three shrieked and writhed on the ground, massive burning holes in their chests.

"We're not getting anywhere," Kathryn panted, a hand going to wipe her brow. "We're not going to reach the beacon in time!"

"There has to be an easier way to do this." Alistair said, leaning on his sword. The three of them were exhausted already, despite still being on the first floor of the tower. "How many floors are there?"

"Five." Kathryn gasped out, wiping some blood from a cut on her cheek. She gestured to a door with her head. "I believe that that's the door leading to the staircase to the next floor." She observed since none of the other rooms held staircases. "We're just going to have to fight our way all the way up."

"As stated before, Kathryn, it is entirely possible that we have already missed the signal. It is possible that Teyrn Chakotay's men have not charged as specified and King Cailan's army has already fallen."

Kathryn's head snapped to the side to glare at him and although he gave no outward appearance to it other than a mild quirking of his eyebrow, the fire in Kathryn's eyes actually unsettled him. "I refuse to entertain that as a possibility, Tuvok." She said sternly, unique voice deathly quiet. "We made a pact when we came here that we would not let the King or Ferelden down. We will not fail, not while I have any say about it." Kathryn turned her head back to the door, a muscle twitching in her jaw. Tuvok knew that look, having seen it multiple times before on the face of a Jarwin. He knew that the young fiery woman infront of him would move the Thedas, the Void and all the in between so she wouldn't fail her King, fail Ferelden. He straightened up to his full height, studying the woman before him intently. After a moment he inclined his head, before pulling his sword up and heaving it onto his shoulder.

"Then we shall continue, Kathryn."

Fairly oblivious to the powerful exchange between the two through just their eyes, Alistair sauntered over towards them, flexing his shield hand and arm. "Four more floors, unknown amount of Darkspawn in between us and that beacon... sounds like a usual day out here in the Wilds."

Kathryn chuckled, grabbing a lyrium poultice from her belt. She was voraciously hungry from her previous expenditures of energy and she downed the poultice within moments. Lyrium in it's natural form was a dust and unlike healing poultices the lyrium poultices actually tasted sweet to Kathryn. Then again, most people found lyrium to be sweet tasting or smelling, it's lure being an intense buzz that the imbiber would receive. Being a Mage, it was an intense experience to feel her own manifestation of magic become 'recharged' by the lyrium and she took a few moments to savour the feeling, fingers tingling and head buzzing slightly.

After a few moments, Kathryn replaced the now empty poultice on her belt, fingers surreptitiously brushing against the back pocket to the picture of the Witch of the Wilds she had, the woman she had met mere hours ago, the one called Seven. The woman had been completely silent, guiding them out of the Wilds and had left in the exact same manner – darting into the bushes and disappearing as if she had never been there. Although she wasn't one for idle thoughts, Kathryn did wonder if she would ever see that blonde haired woman again, and where.

For now, she had a job to do. The trio approached the door, still drenched with rain, sweat and blood but determined. Squeezing the hilt of her sword for just a second, Kathryn raised her hand to the metal handle of the door before throwing it open, the loud bang and crackle of lightning following moments later.

The battle up the remaining four floors was easier than that of the first, something which surprised Kathryn marginally. The trio ducked and weaved through the battle, cutting down Darkspawn and felling them with a well placed fireball, arcane or lightning bolt. It seemed that the further they ascended the tower, the number of remaining Darkspawn lessened, the battles getting easier as opposed to harder. Kathryn wondered at that in consternation – why would things be getting easier?

Nevertheless, she took this as a sign that the Maker was on their side, allowing them to power through the corridors and rooms filled with the corpses of Teyrn Chakotay's men and the very alive, screeching Darkspawn. Thrusting herself forward, Kathryn threw herself into a Darkspawn, her blade slicing neatly through the Darkspawn's throat while her other hand grabbed the face of another, fire spouting out of her palm and killing the Hurloc instantly. As she tumbled to the ground on her own momentum she pulled her sword out of the Darkspawn's neck, scrambling ungainly to her feet on legs that felt like jelly. Alistair and Tuvok were close by, the former taking on a Hurloc Alpha while Tuvok bashed down a Genlock and swung his sword in a large semi-circle, decapitating four Genlocks.

Without preamble, the trio darted up the final stairs, each of them thanking the Maker that their journey was almost at an end and that the beacon was just in reach. Kathryn leading the charge, they bounded up the stairs, pants and gasps for air resonating around the stone, the sounds of their booted feet clapping against the stone stairs filling their ears. Gripping their respective blades tighter, the group charged up the final flight of stairs and broke out into the very top of the tower, a large circular dome like structure where half the dome had crumbled away due to age, multiple columns having long since collapsed and created massive piles of debris. Spotting the beacon, what looked to be a fireplace with some wood and kindling and coated in what looked like accelerant, Kathryn charged towards it, hands outstretched, a small fireball appearing in her palms. She didn't see the humongous, grey skinned troll hiding behind the debris until it was too late, and the Troll had grabbed her in it's large brutish hands. The large troll swung her around in it's arms, making her incredibly dizzy. She heard Alistair and Tuvok cry out her name and her eyes went to them, growing wide as they charged towards her instead of the beacon.

"No!" Kathryn shrieked desperately over the sounds of the troll roaring. "Light the beacon! Complete the mission!" Staring, she watched helplessly as the two men ran towards her, and with a loud scream she watched as the troll used it's other hand and a plank of wood, bashing it into the men who attempted to save her. Blinking through her tears, Kathryn watched as Tuvok sailed through the air and slammed into a nearby pile of debris, suddenly aware that she was screaming. Alistair was flung into a column which cracked. With a loud groan he slumped down on the ground as if he were boneless and all Kathryn could do was scream in terror as the grip of the Troll tightened around her. Turning her eyes, Kathryn stared up into the maw of the troll, a large deformed, scarred face contorted into a visage of rage, teeth jagged and yellow and gnashing. Feeling numb, Kathryn stared up into the Troll's face, slowly becoming aware that her own face was starting to mirror the Troll's – a look of pure rage. Within a second she was flung across the room and skittering across the floor, limbs flopping helplessly. Running on nothing but adrenaline, Kathryn picked herself up, gripping her sword tightly in her hand. Without thinking, Kathryn charged, lips stretched back in a snarl as she hurtled towards the Troll who had hurt her friends. Without knowing what she was doing, Kathryn bent down and picked up one of Tuvok's daggers that had obviously fallen from it's scabbard while he had been tossed through the air and leapt at the Troll.

As if everything ground to a halt, Kathryn could only feel the burning rage of having her friends hurt deep inside her belly, licking up her insides to pour out of her mouth in a scream as she leapt through the air, arms raised. In the next moment, she was on the Troll's chest, Reisende and Tuvok's dagger firmly implanted in the skin and muscle. With a roar the Troll fell backwards with the small mage with flaming red hair and an enraged snarl on her face hanging on by the blades imbedded in the Troll's chest. As the troll toppled, Kathryn reefed out the blades, tears coursing down her cheeks at the thought of the blows having hurt or even killed both Tuvok and Alistair. She couldn't stand that thought. She'd failed to protect them, ran into the room so intent on the beacon that she hadn't been careful, and her companions had suffered because of that. Her rage lit her blades with white hot fire and the Troll screamed and quailed at the feeling of it's insides being burnt from the hot metal. Without thinking Kathryn pulled the blades out of it's chest and with a bellow of anguish she thrust the two blades into the Troll's eyes, killing the monster instantly as the blades gouged through the eyes, the skull and then finally the brain. Her blood pounding in her ears, Kathryn collapsed against the troll, still gripping the hilts of the blades, gripping them for all she was worth. Panting from exertion, Kathryn finally forced herself up, tears mingling with the blood and sweat coating her face and creating tracks down her skin.

"Kathryn."

Hearing her name, Kathryn whipped around as she stood, watching as Tuvok pulled himself to his feet, favouring his left leg. Kathryn felt her heart sink into the pit of her stomach, becoming a ball of ice as she watched the man check over his left leg, turning slightly to the side to reveal his leg being broken, the bone snapped and piercing the skin. The man's face was a study in what looked to be the ultimate of endurance as he used his broadsword as a walking stick. Kathryn instantly went to his side. "Tuvok," she breathed, eyes wide and terrified, but a thankfulness in her eyes to know that the man was alright. "Oh, Tuvok, I'm- I'm-!"

"Kathryn," The dark skinned man said quietly to get her attention, chocolate eyes on hers and filled with a forgiveness she had seen far too many times. "It is fine. Light the beacon. Complete your mission." His voice was deceptively calm and controlled, making the fiery haired woman wonder how he managed to contain himself in such a fashion. Kathryn watched him for several long moments before looking away, her eyes finding Alistair who, although he looked like he was in great pain, managed to drag himself up to stand, eyes bulging out of his head at the sight of Kathryn's sword imbedded in the skull of the troll. Encouraged by her mentor and friend, Kathryn walked back towards the troll's corpse and retrieved her sword, feeling every bit the small, terrified woman that she was, feeling entirely out of her league. Still, she crossed the room towards the beacon and with just a small ball of fire lit the beacon, letting out a sigh of relief as the fire hurtled up the stone cavern to burst out into the night. Turning around, Kathryn regarded her companions – battered and worse for wear but ultimately alive. She couldn't describe the relief and thankfulness that she felt. Suddenly more interested in the battle below, Kathryn forced herself to move to the edge of the tower where the dome had long since collapsed, revealing that part of the tower to the night air and allowing her to gaze down into the battlefield. From this height she could see the battle taking place below and she could easily make out the three armies – the Kings, the Horde and hidden behind an expanse of forest but visible through torches, lay Teyrn Chakotay's army, stretching across the bottom road of the King's Highway, waiting for the signal – her signal – to charge from the cover and flank the Darkspawn.

---

On the Battlefield, Teyrn Chakotay stood, a magnificent presence in front of his even grander, well trained army. Tall and proud, the tanned tattooed man stood alert, eyes locked on the grand Tevinter tower known as the 'Tower of Ishal', a grim determination setting in his masculine jaw. It had been a long time – perhaps too long, he thought – since the Army had begun waiting behind the thicket for the tower to be lit, and the old Teyrn wondered if perhaps his men and the Grey Wardens had failed. Grey Wardens, he thought, were superfluous. Where were they, the Grey Wardens, while he and his fellow Fereldens were fighting the oppressive rule of Orlais? The thought of Orlais brought a scowl to his features but he remained ever vigilant, standing silent sentinel in the night in wait of a signal.

The Tower suddenly lit up in a brilliant blaze, and the Teyrn smiled, his lips curling back over his teeth in a sick mockery of a grin.

"Sound... the retreat." He said to his second in command, a young woman commander by the name of Seska.

The woman in question turned and stared at her Teyrn, shock registering on her features. "But... what about the King? Should we not-" Her words were cut off by the big hulk of a man grabbing her hand in a painful vice grip, face contorted into a bitter snarl.

"Do as I command! Sound the retreat!"

Licking her lips, the young commander stared at her Teyrn before nodding and turning back to the army. With a practiced hand gesture, she grabbed the attention of the sub-commanders. "All right, all of you! Pull out!" Tucking a lock of her soaked her behind her ear, Seska turned and led the army in a March away from the battlefield, leaving the King, the Army, and the Grey Wardens to their fate.

On the battlefield proper, Duncan and King Cailan kept close to each other, parrying blows and felling Darkspawn with every precise, controlled and experienced swing of their swords. Their army was falling apart, however, and every Darkspawn they killed, four more took their place. "They will come!" King Cailan shouted over the din. "We will end this Blight here and now!"

The words were all bravado, they both knew and realised. Despite the two previous encounters with the Darkspawn before, this was entirely different and they were being overrun. What they couldn't have imagined was the large troll suddenly banging it's way through the ruckus, killing friend and foe alike. Swerving around, Duncan raised his sword only to be slammed in the middle of his stomach by a large fist and sent hurtling into two nearby soldiers, sent sprawling. Recovering far too slowly, Duncan stared as the King was grabbed in the massive hands, sword dropped to the muddy ground.

"My liege!" He called out helplessly, blood spattering from his mouth onto his chin. Duncan watched with horror as the Troll roared in the King's face who merely glared at the Darkspawn defiantly before squeezing with all it's might, squashing the young king and killing him instantly. "No!" He heard himself scream as the King was discarded and thrown to the ground, smacking into the mud with a loud clunk, falling boneless and skidding to a stop beside Duncan. The old tanned man stared into the dead young King's face, feeling his skin crawl and go cold. He raised his eyes towards the tower and felt his breath expel from his lungs in one big groan as he saw the Tower alight in a blazing inferno – the beacon was lit, and Teyrn Chakotay's men were nowhere to be seen. Around him the army was falling, crashing down and they were dying, falling to the Darkspawn and he could do nothing. He recognised this feeling – hopelessness. Yet, determined, Duncan picked himself up and retrieved his sword and with a battle cry charged at the Troll that had so easily killed his King, and in so doing destroyed their army's hope.

Kathryn stared from her vantage point on top of the dome like tower, heart pounding loudly in her chest, blue grey eyes focused on the movement below her. It took her several long moments to realise what was happening and when she did, Kathryn felt as if a knife had been thrust into her stomach and twisted about. Feeling suddenly uneasy, she gripped a nearby wall with a hand, swallowing the lump in her throat. What is happening? She questioned madly. What is going on? Eyes widening incredulously, Kathryn let out a soft choking sound. "He's leaving." She breathed out.

"Kathryn?"

"Teyrn Chakotay. He's pulling out." Kathryn stared for several moments longer, feeling numb from the days events. She couldn't stand to watch for a moment longer before she turned her eyes away, facing Tuvok and Alistair who merely stared at her, both leaning on each other for support. "I... I can't believe it." She swallowed again. "He's pulling out, the King! The- we have to get down there, we have to go right-"

Her words were interrupted by a loud bang, attracting their attention to the staircase they had so recently just ascended. Before they could react the top floor was swarmed with Darkspawn. Before she could react, a small group of Genlock aimed their bows and arrows at her and let loose arrows that tore right into her chest. Four wooden arrows with barbed tips thrust into her chest, tearing at her flesh and earning a spurt of blood from the wound and scream from her lips. Blackness encroaching on her exhausted vision, Kathryn was knocked backwards by the force of the blow and tumbled right out of the Tower of Ishal, her head slamming against the edge of the tower floor and knocking her completely unconscious as she hurtled towards the ground.