Maker help me, I've decided to do a full walkthrough type of series. Crazy, I know, but I think I might be able to pull it off - Bioware has given us some great material, but not without flaws that I'm motivated to address.

The 'imported save' from Origins so to speak is something that actually could not have happened in the game itself, unless it were heavily hacked and modded. Suffice to say that you get a first glimpse of my version of Hero of Ferelden in this chapter, and more details of her rise to power will be revealed with time.

I hope you will enjoy the story. Feedback is welcome, especially so because English is not my native language.

Chapter 1

9:37 Dragon

Royal Palace of Denerim

"Word of the events in Kirkwall has finally reached my ear," a petite looking elven woman spoke, sitting behind a large mahogany desk in a truly royally decorated study. A jewel encrusted tiara rested on her brow, the thin, delicate face framed by long dark brown locks of wavy hair. "A messenger arrived earlier this morning."

"I have heard, my Queen," another woman replied, standing by the door of the study. Her hair short and in lighter shade of brown, pulled behind her in a simple ponytail. The woman was wearing a full plate armor of matted dark grey, fierce looking greatsword strapped on her back.

"I am sure you realize what this means," Queen Maythre stood from the table, her white dress flowing around her. The image of a pure, innocent swan was deeply contrasting to her nature, a devious, cunning blood mage who had spun countless intrigues and betrayed many to now sit on the throne of Ferelden unchallenged. "Our time has come, Cauthrien. The eye of the Divine is firmly locked to Kirkwall, now. The threat of Exalted March against the deviants of Ferelden is no longer on their minds."

"It would seem like a fortuitous moment to strike," the tall human admitted. "The templars and Chantry have long been a thorn in our side. It will be satisfying to have them dealt with once and for all."

"I have mobilized our forces. The armies of the Bannorn stand ready, joined by the elven volunteers. The Circle mages should arrive early tomorrow. I am sure that the Grand Cleric is aware of our plans by now, and I know she is scrambling to organize what defenses she can, but the templars are severely weakened."

"Largely due to the mysteriously drying up lyrium supply, I'm sure," Cauthrien smirked.

"As if it was somehow my fault that Bhelen has refused to deal with them… he is such a good boy, I must remember to send him plenty of gifts once this is all over," Maythre laughed.

"She is trying to rally what believers she can," Cauthrien said, her face darkening. "She will try to hide behind the shield of innocents, thinking we will pause because of it."

"My sources tell me she is not being very successful. Most people in this city are spineless cowards," the Queen said, looking out the window of the study. The streets were almost empty. The populace, aware of the tension and impending bloody conflict, hesitated to leave the safety of their dwellings. "Some might resist if you try to kick them, but hardly anyone is willing to fight for their beliefs and ideals. No, the Grand Cleric will be left quite disappointed by how few are prepared to give their lives for her Chantry."

"Would you like me to lead the attack?" Cauthrien asked.

"No, I will do that myself. But my general, I have a task of a different kind for you." Cauthrien stared at the queen, surprised. "A boat is being prepared that will take you and an entourage of ten dozens of veteran soldiers across the Waking Sea. You will be leaving today, with good weather conditions you could land in Kirkwall in twelve days, give or take."

"Kirkwall? Why are you sending me to Kirkwall at this time?" Cauthrien was unable to contain her astonishment. "I should be…" she then hesitated, remembering how dangerous it was to contradict the Queen. "I am not sure I understand your intent, my Queen."

"Then allow me to explain," Maythre smiled thinly. "My sources place one person at the epicenter of the events in Kirkwall, their so called Champion. This woman is in fact an apostate, born here in Ferelden. I would very much like to have a word with her. I sense we might have things in common."

"And if she unwisely decides to decline your invitation?"

"You are allowed to apply force, but I must stress that her survival must be ensured," Maythre declared. "Bring Riona Hawke to me as soon as possible; do not fail me in this, Cauthrien."

"It will be as you ask, my Queen," the ever stony-faced general bowed and left.

9:30 Dragon, Seven Years Prior

On the outskirts of Lothering

"Bethany, help mother! We must hurry!" Riona shouted, looking back at the rest of her family, struggling to keep up with the blistering pace of the young mage. Her younger sibling was desperately trying to aid their tiring parent, pulling her up the path leading uphill.

"They are gaining on us," her brother stated coming up beside her, himself a little short of breath. A soldier in the recently routed army of King Cailan at Ostagar and one of the very few survivors, Carver had always had strained relationship with his two apostate sisters, but now Riona was eternally grateful to have him along, his experience in fighting darkspawn a blessing to them all.

Riona turned around, waiting for her sister and mother to catch up. She could see moving silhouettes further down the path, the creatures relentless in their pursuit. "Do we even know where we are running?" those were her sister's first words as they finally managed to close the last of the distance between them. "We could be running straight into the bulk of the horde for all we know!"

"I don't know, Beth," Riona replied, looking around them, waiting for her mother to rest if only a little. Below them, down in the valley, Lothering was being swarmed by a frightening, moving mass of darkness, like a swarm of locusts leaving only bare fields behind them. The Chantry and the inn were on fire, as were most other more prominent buildings. Those who had refused to flee were all dead by now, torn to pieces by the same creatures that now pursued them, drawing ever closer. "I think any direction that brings us further away from that is fine with me," she shuddered briefly, the view frightening her, it did not seem like any mortal army could withstand against the sheer numbers below.

"They have been pouring in from Ostagar in south," Carver spoke, ever rational in his thinking. "So the obvious choice is to head north," he then peered in the distance, where the Imperial Highway stretched, the massive legacy of the age when Tevinter Imperium had covered every corner of Thedas. "We can't use the Highway though, it's completely overrun."

Riona saw that too, the groups of darkspawn crowding the white marble road. Anyone who had delayed their escape to Denerim or Redcliffe by the Highway was dead by now, only the limited cover of countryside allowed for a small chance to remain undetected.

"We could go to Kirkwall," their mother spoke up suddenly.

Riona blinked in surprise, Bethany's brown eyes widening with the same reaction. "Kirkwall? There are a lot of templars in Kirkwall, mother," her sister said, a little fearfully.

"I don't want to end locked up with the Circle mages," Riona shook her head.

"Our family name carries great weight in Kirkwall, not to mention our family estate. We have enough influence to protect you both from the templars."

"Why didn't we knew any of this before?" Riona exclaimed, staring at her equally surprised siblings, then back at their mother.

"Perhaps explanations can be delayed until we are in safety. Speaking of which..."

The clattering sounds of weapons accompanied by hissing and gargling grew louder, before a larger group of darkspawn appeared on the path below. Seeing an easy prey in shape of three woman and more of a boy than a man, they threw caution to the wind and charged, expecting an easy kill.

The hurlocks had come about two thirds of the way up the path when fire crackled at Bethany's fingertips and a roaring ball of flame exploded in the middle of the wicked creatures. At the same time, bolt of frost halted the charge of those few who had evaded the fires, freezing and slowing them down. Carver leapt into the fray with his greatsword, quick, precise strikes finishing off the stragglers.

Neither Riona nor Bethany ever had much chance to practice their talent in the open, their family always on the run from the templars, never being able to settle any place for long. Their father had trained them when he could and when safety could be guaranteed, but it was still rather remarkable that they could apply their arts with such great effect when suddenly thrown into a situation where their lives depended on it. Riona wondered whether it was some sort of sibling link, for she always seemed to realize Bethany's intent three steps ahead, and it appeared to be working both ways. Whatever it was, it was effective; they were still alive.

"We best make haste, they will be back and in greater numbers," Carver said returning to them, his sword coated with darkspawn blood.

"If we are going to Kirkwall, then I think the best way to get there is a ship from Gwaren," Bethany suggested.

Riona stood for a moment, thinking. The Highway did not lead to Gwaren, a small port city on the eastern coast of Ferelden. They would have to skirt the dangerous Korcari Wilds, make their way through the Dalish infested passages of Brecilian Forest... it would be perilous journey for certain. But at least, the darkspawn would not be their worries. "Gwaren it is then," she decided. "Let's continue north and try to outrun the horde, then we can cut towards the Brecilian."

They broke into a half-run again, keeping constant watch on the main bulk of the horde down in the valley. It seemed like the largest masses were content with staying in what used to be Lothering, now a mass of smoking rubble. Countless groups swarmed the surrounding farmlands, intent on destroying all they could, their mere presence leaving the fields behind them blackened from their taint.

They had not been running for long, before Carver suddenly halted. "Stop," he said, raising his hand. "Do you hear?"

Riona tried to sharpen her hearing. Sounds of battle drifted towards her, close ahead. "Darkspawn! We are cut off, let's-" then, a cry of a man came over the rest of the sounds, making her realize the folly of her initial reaction to flee the other way. "Let's help them, anyone not darkspawn could be an ally!"

Carver and Bethany were right behind her as she bolted towards the source of the sound, around a sharp corner of the pass among hills. Before their eyes, about a dozen darkspawn had surrounded someone, Riona could not see who they were through the mass of the swarming creatures.

"Careful not to hit them too," Riona told her sister, as Carver charged ahead.

"Really, Ri," Bethany gave her a reproachful stare before starting to prepare her spell.

As she let go of her own spell, shattering one darkspawn into frozen chunks and freezing three others next to it, Riona knew that her coddling advice was entirely misplaced. Bethany was easily her equal and was a bright girl with plenty of common sense not to incinerate would-be allies with storms of fire. Still, this protective streak of her younger sister always tended to emerge and thankfully Bethany never held grudge over her fussing.

The surprised darkspawn fell quickly, revealing that they had rushed to the aid of two fellow humans, the man lying on the ground, injured and in pain, the woman hovering over him protectively. "Stop squirming Wesley, you'll make it worse," she spoke, tending to the man. Husband?, Riona wondered, before spotting the colors of the man's distinctive armor, the symbol of a sword with sunbeams reflecting from it engraved across his breastplate. She inadvertently took a few steps back, pulling Bethany with her.

The man had seen them, though, and bolted from the ground, even gravely wounded. "Apostates!" he exclaimed, trying to grab his sword, but the arm hung limply and could not be lifted. "Keep your distance!"

"Well, the Maker has a sense of humor," Bethany said, shaking her head. "First the darkspawn, now a templar."

"The Order dictates..." the man, Wesley, started, his face scrunched from intense pain. "The Order dictates..."

The woman rose from the ground, trying to restrain him and he rested against her, barely able to stand. "Dear, they saved us. The Maker understands," she said gently, before turning to the rest of them. "My name is Aveline Wallen. This is my husband, Ser Wesley Wallen."

An Orlesian name, Riona thought. Odd, she speaks with barely any accent. Must have been living in Ferelden for a while then. She looked more closely at the woman. Her uniform was the same as Carver's, a soldier in Cailan's army. She had a pleasant face, cheeks dotted with countless freckles, wrapped by a fiery mane of red hair, held back by a red headband across her brow. The green eyes expressed honesty that made Riona feel just a tad more relaxed.

"We are the Hawke family, on the run from what used to be Lothering," she spoke for them all. "We rushed here to aid potential allies, but what happens now remains to be seen. First though, I think your husband's injury should be tended to."

Aveline nodded, helping her man to lie down again, and he did so without protest. As Wesley rolled to his side, an ugly gash in his back, under the shoulder-blade, came to view, deep and bleeding profusely. "I would offer my meager skill in healing, but I doubt you are allowed to accept such from an apostate," Riona said, watching as Aveline retrieved a vial from her bags and passed it to her husband. As he drank it, the wound gradually closed, allowing Aveline to bandage it.

"I thank you for the offer, but it will not be necessary," Wesley stood, after his wife had finished her work. He tried to move his hand but to no avail. "It appears that I will remain useless in battle for some time, however." Riona could not help to feel a slight tinge of relief at that. While it seemed his wife was sensible and able to calm him down, one could never be sure when a templar would decide you were a menace to the rest of the humanity.

"Now then," Riona said. "Do we work together to escape the horde? Our plans are to reach Gwaren." She refrained from mentioning Kirkwall for now, hoping that the others would remain silent too.

"Another blade between us and the darkspawn?" Carver spoke. "Yes, please!" Thank you, brother, Riona thought bitterly. It's not like you need to worry about getting locked up by the templars.

"My duty is clear," Ser Wesley replied, then making a peaceful gesture with his hand. "But that is for another day, should we be granted that opportunity."

"You have our word," Aveline said. "You saved us from the darkspaw, we would not repay your kindness with a stab in the back."

Riona looked at Bethany, her sister thoughtful. "The nice templar has agreed to postpone his hunt for apostates," she turned towards her with a smile. "I propose we bury the hatchet for now and work on escaping this place."

"Wise girl," Aveline said, a hint of smile on her lips. "The path north is blocked, however, if you wish to reach Gwaren, we need to cut eastwards."

"But... but that way are the Wilds," mother exclaimed, wringing her hands in desperation. "We can't go there!"

"If it's a choice between the darkspawn and the Korcari Wilds, I'll take the Wilds any day," Carver said confidently, walking ahead. "Come now, we still need to continue on this path and try to circle around Lothering before we can turn east."

With that they set on the road again, keeping as high pace as Wesley's injury and mother's exhaustion allowed them. Aveline and her husband were happy to converse along the way, the dark-haired templar proving to be less zealous than his first reaction to them had implied. It appeared that he had been travelling on some templar business towards Denerim when word of the impending battle at Ostagar had reached his ears. He had rushed to join his wife for what was supposed to be King Cailan's triumphal defeat of the Blight before it had even started; instead it saw the king betrayed by his most trusted general, abandoned on the field of battle at the mercy of the darkspawn. In the end, maybe less than a hundred had managed to escape the bloodbath, Carver, Aveline and Wesley being the rare fortunate ones. But fortunate was such a loaded term, considering the horrors they had been subjected to.

After an hour's walk, they had finally reached higher ground, away from the masses of darkspawn. Small groups of scouts still assaulted them time and time again, but were easily dispatched. They took a small break on the top of the plateau, eyeing the descent westwards. A few patrols could be seen in the distance, but the larger groups had been left behind by now. Relief seemed to fill them all, as they sat on the scattered rocks and used the break to grab a bite of food and take a few sips of water from their canteens.

It was then that Riona noticed Bethany staring at her intently. "What?" she asked.

"I don't know, maybe I'm just paranoid," her sister replied, placing her palm against the rocky ground. "Can you feel it?"

Riona did the same, then shrugging. "I don't underst-" but then she did feel it. Series of short tremors ran through the ground, before stopping again. "What is that?"

Bethany shrugged in reply. "Probably nothing to worry about." She looked around again. "I don't like staying here so long, though. We're like sitting ducks."

"We'll be moving soon," Riona replied, taking a glance at mother, leaning against a rock with closed eyes, wind gently blowing the graying hair in her face. "I just want to let mother rest a little more."

Bethany nodded, still looking tense. For a while, everything was calm. Then, suddenly, great tremor seemed to shake the whole hilltop, immediately alerting everyone. They quickly grabbed their weapons, rushing towards the different edges of the plateau to see what was going on and whether danger was approaching.

"By the Maker," Riona heard Wesley's whisper, before his voice grew into loud warning. "Ready yourselves!"

Something huge suddenly charged up from the northern passage, crashing into Wesley, the templar managing to lift the shield just in time. Not that it did much good, the arriving creature crashed into him with such force that he was thrown all the way across the small clearing, hitting the rocks on the other side with sickening crunch. The creature stood up and roared, pounding its chest with massive arms.

Ogre! panic ran through Riona's mind, as the creature lined up its next victim. NO! MOTHER! Riona's lips parted in silent scream as the ogre charged, but suddenly Carver was there in its path, knocking mother aside and away from harm. The ogre, angry at being thwarted, bellowed and brushed aside Carver's ineffectual swing of his sword, scooping Riona's brother up in his arms and then crushing him.

The world seemed to come to a standstill. Hanging in the air was Carver's agonizing cry, together with the terrible, sharp sound of his thorax and ribs broken and crushed by the ogre's grasp. Carver's head slumped as the ogre held him, dead or unconscious before the ogre smashed him against the ground several times, then throwing the body aside with a wet sound, like a ripe tomato smashed against the floor boards.

Her brother was dead. The thought paralyzed her, she could not move a muscle. Only her mother's cries finally brought her out from the daze, and as she noticed the ogre now staring at her, it's fangs barred, readying for another charge, instincts took over. Survive! her whole being screamed at her as the ogre broke into run.

Suddenly, Aveline appeared out of nowhere, giving the ogre a light blow of her shield, but enough to slightly destabilize the beast and knock it off his path towards Riona. The young mage nimbly sidestepped the ogre's charge, and as it desperately tried to brake in order not to fall off the edge, Riona and Bethany unleashed their magic at the same time, blinding and slowing the creature. The injured beast balanced on the edge, trying to regain its footing in the rubble, more spells crashing against the ogre's chest. It let out a savage roar, but then Aveline was there again, breaking into a charge of her own, her sword plunging into the ogre's stomach and sending it toppling backwards. With a hair raising scream the creature finally fell, likely alerting every darkspawn in the vicinity of several miles.

Riona and Bethany were immediately at their mother's side, she was already crouching over where her son lay. He could not have survived that, Riona thought. And he hadn't. Carver looked so small now, like a broken rag doll, his body twisted in unnatural angles, drowning in a pool of blood. Mother's dress was all covered in it, but she did not care, clutching tightly at her son's chest, tears flowing from her grey eyes. Riona simply stared, feeling strangely empty, not knowing what to say. She felt Bethany's hand sneaking around her shoulder and she responded in kind, pulling her sister close, as together they cried for their dead sibling.

She had always had a difficult relationship with Carver. Her brother had born with no talent for magic, a rarity in their family, and had always felt alienated because of this, feeling as if his apostate father cared only for his two mage daughters. This often made him angry, resentful towards Bethany and herself, particularly towards the younger sister who could not defend herself as well as Riona. Time and time again Riona had fought with Carver over his petty pranks like nailing Bethany's braid to the bed frame while she slept. But despite his painful need to prove himself, to somehow compete with her, she knew he had loved and cared for them, for their family. And now he had died saving their mother.

"Mother," Riona finally said, swallowing and choking back tears. "Carver gave himself to save us. But if we don't move soon, his sacrifice will be meaningless."

"Why did he do something like that? I didn't want him to be a hero! I just want my son back," mother sobbed, before straightening and looking at Riona, her pained face contorting with brief anger. "How could you let him charge off like that! Your little brother!"

"He rushed to save your life," Riona replied, ignoring the scathing accusation. She's only lashing out from grief, she does not truly mean it, she told herself. "If I had been in his place, you would be staring down at my corpse. And I would have rushed to save you, too, but he was there first."

"I would have done the same as well," Bethany said quietly. "But if you don't want us to do so, we must move quickly. That monster's bellow must have alerted every darkspawn around us."

"Not even time to bury my own son... it seems they will not stop before they have taken everything from me," mother was still inconsolable. "Give me... give me a little more time. Then we can... depart."

Riona nodded quietly, rising and pulling Bethany up with her. Only then did she remember about Aveline's husband. He had taken the first horrible blow, alerting them, likely saving more lives even if it hadn't been enough for Carver. But now, he lay in a pool of blood like Carver, Aveline furiously pouring healing potions into his mouth, but most of it came back up, together with the templar's blood.

"This... does not look good, Aveline," Riona sat down next to the redhead. "Carver is... gone. And... Wesley, if he is unable to move..."

The other woman glared at her fiercely, determined not to give up on her futile attempts. Wesley coughed, a weak gargle, trying to clear his throat. "Don't try to speak, dear," Aveline tried to stop him from exerting himself.

"Leave... m-me..." the templar managed, followed by another fit of coughing.

"Never! Not while I still breathe," Aveline shook her head, her green eyes shining with unshed tears.

Wesley reached out and took her hand in his. "Taint... within spreading," he said weakly. "Can feel it... d-dying anyway." He released his hand and reached for his sword, pushing it into Aveline's hand. "Let me go... please."

Aveline stood up, throwing the sword away in disgust. "I won't do it! I can't. Don't ask that of me!"

"Aveline, if he... truly has the taint of the Darkspawn in him... then perhaps this is mercy," Riona spoke quietly. The woman did not move, her shoulders slumping a little. "I think you know this. If you can't do it yourself..."

"No," Aveline said hoarsely. "It will be my burden to bear. My guilt to carry for failing to protect him." She picked the sword up and returned to her husband's side.

"N-not your fault..." Wesley managed.

With trembling hands, Aveline placed the tip of the blade against her husband's chest. "I love you Wesley," she whispered, pressing the sword down.

"Love y-" he whispered, but the words froze on his lips, head rolling to the side as life left Ser Wesley's broken body. Riona and Bethany retreated away out of respect, Aveline spending a little more time before getting up and rejoining them, her face betraying no emotion of the heartbreaking act she had just performed.

As mother slowly got up from Carver's side, rejoining them, her eyes red from crying, their severely demoralized group was about to take the eastern passage downhill, but to their horror, it was already crawling with groups of darkspawn. In panic, they rushed towards the northern descent, but more and more were rushing up the slope there as well.

The first darkspawn were about to reach them, when Riona was surprised by Aveline's bitter laugh next to her. "After putting myself through that," she said, obviously referring to Wesley's death. "It won't even going to matter."

"I will make it matter! I don't want to die here!" Bethany shouted, releasing her magic at the first waves of the darkspawn. Fireball immolated many of them, but more and more poured onto the plateau. Riona was about to follow up with a spell of her own, hopeless as it was, when suddenly she felt a strange sensation, like strong wind at her back. And what was that weird flapping noise?

Suddenly, the side of the plateau covered by the approaching darkspawn erupted with fire, roasting the squealing monstrosities. Riona looked up above her and then jumped backwards in panic as sleek frame of an adult dragon passed over them, incinerating all the darkspawn running up the eastern pass. The impressive beast, its scales reddish brown, turned around gracefully in the air and came around for another pass, swooping up some stragglers in her talons and tossing them high up in the air, killing the others with a brutal swipe of her tail. The darkspawn on the northern pass were now trying to make an escape, but the searing flame of the dragon's breath reached them in their hopeless flight, burning them alive.

The dragon made another pass over them, as if to make sure all the darkspawn were dead, before landing amidst the flames still blowing strong in front of them. The strangest thing happened then, the dragon's scales starting to glisten in an odd light, changing, shaping themselves, shrinking until finally a woman in an impressive set of armor, combination of leather and metal, stepped through the flames and casually approached them.

"Well, well, well," the woman chuckled, stepping closer to them, casually shrugging off a corpse of a hurlock, still attached to the sharp spikes in her metal armor. "If it isn't more visitors, about to enter my Wilds. It used that we never got any!"

Riona exchanged a quick look with Bethany and Aveline, both of them staring at the she-dragon with equal measure of fear and reverence. "I think that a good start would be thanking you for rescuing us," she tried.

"Indeed, you are safe for the moment," the woman nodded. Her elaborate hairstyle, white hair were formed in a shape that strongly resembled the head shape of her dragon form. "However, know that between yourselves and the 'safety' of the Wilds, there are great many darkspawn. You are well and truly trapped behind enemy lines."

"I know we should have fled earlier," Bethany cried. "Why didn't we leave earlier?" she turned to Riona, desperate.

"We won't be able to get through the darkspawn on our own," Riona said, looking at the woman who had just saved their lives.

"Leave me behind and make a run for it," mother spoke from behind them. "I... I will stay here, with my poor boy. Oh Carver..." she started to cry again.

"And where is that you are running, might I ask?" the she-dragon asked, idly cleaning a speck of darkspawn blood from the reddish brown leather armor, the same color as the scales of her dragon form.

"Kirkwall," Bethany said. Aveline shot her a quick look, but said nothing. "In the Free Marches."

"My, my, that is quite the voyage you plan." The strange woman gave Riona a long, measuring stare, before speaking as if talking to someone else, invisible. "Hurtled into the chaos, you fight... and the world will shake before you..."

As Riona pondered the woman's words, the old crone turned with her back towards them and made a few steps back towards the flames, speaking quietly to herself. "Is it fate, or chance? I can never tell." She turned back towards them, an imperious gesture, and speaking with her voice loud again. "It appears that fortune smiles upon us both today. I may be able to help you yet."

"And in return you will want... what?" Riona asked.

"Wait," Bethany said, pulling at her sleeve. "Careful before you promise anything. We don't even know who she is."

"Oh, I know what she is," Aveline joined in, staring intently at the old woman. "Witch of the Wilds."

The old woman laughed heartily. "Oh, I have many names! Flemeth. Asha'bellanar. Witch of the Wilds. An old hag who talks too much!" she appeared highly amused. "As for what I want. A simple delivery to a place not far out of your way. A small payment for getting your group past the darkspawn and to the safety, wouldn't you say?"

"It seems almost too good to be true," Riona shrugged, looking at the others again.

"I know... but what are our options?" Bethany said, appearing uncertain.

"Before we agree, what is it that you wish delivered?" Riona asked.

Flemeth withdrew a silvery amulet on thin chain. Elaborate letters covered its surface, likely writings in Elven. "There is a clan of Dalish elves camped outside the city of Kirkwall. Deliver this to the Keeper of the clan, Marethari. Do as she asks with it, and any debt between us will be paid in full."

"That seems trivial, why can't you do it yourself?" Riona wondered.

"I have... an appointment to keep," Flemeth replied enigmatically. "It is far more convenient this way," she said, offering the amulet to Riona. After a moment of hesitation, the girl reached out and grabbed it.

"Then we have an agreement," the witch said. As they took their belongings, saying final farewells to their fallen loved ones and turned to leave, the witch spoke again. "It gets no easier. Your struggles have only begun..."