Chapter 1: Rumors of Corruption
He struggled, sometimes, with his nature.
He struggled with the magic within him, the taint that coursed through his body, the revenge he so deeply sought. He struggled with himself, his own mind. With the demon.
For that was he, an abomination. He still controlled his mind, he still fought the blight, but it was always there, watching him. Whispering quietly, soothingly. He fought back constantly. He knew his duty. He was a Grey Warden, he told himself, not a demon-possessed maleficarum.
And for awhile, it worked. He drew the strength of dragons, the strength of darkspawn, the strength of magic.
But Pride still sought him out.
ooo
"I swear to the Maker if we get out of this alive I'll buy you anything you want when we next visit The Wonders of Thedas." It was stupid to trust Alistair with this, Adrian knew, but what other choice did they have?
They were stuck between a rock and a hard place, like usual, but this time there didn't seem to be a miraculous comeback, or at least a chance to run away. He knew their luck would run out.
"Well, we can't be dying here. That would ruin the story, wouldn't it? The hero's aren't supposed to die. Unless it's at the end. Eww, I hope I don't have a tragic ending."
"You'll be getting one if you don't run faster, Alistair." The two Wardens were running from werewolves, ones still mad at the killing of the Lady of the Forest. "You'd think the elves would help us, considering how we aided them!"
They had run into trouble after securing help from the last of their treaties, or rather, they had always been in trouble, but this was worse. A group of werewolves ambushed them as they were traveling to Denerim to meet up with Arl Eamon, still angry at the death of their leader. The two Wardens had gotten separated from Sten and Morrigan in the fight, but managed to fight back on their own since. Adrian didn't know if his companions still lived.
"Maybe you shouldn't have told them that Swiftrunner begged for mercy, or that you pissed on that sacred tree in the middle of those ruins?"
"Trivialities, Alistair!"
They were shouting as they ran. It was hopeless, though. They had to turn and fight eventually, and Adrian knew Alistair was growing tired from wearing the templar armor while sprinting for his life.
"Not so much, considering how we're now running in fear! Abject terror! Look at us! We're running from werewolves, creatures we've already slaughtered droves of!"
"Some Grey Wardens, eh? Where's the waterfall you mentioned?"
"I'm not sure. I just figured if we followed the river we'd come to it!" Typical Alistair. What if they didn't make it in time?
"Well whoopdeedoo. I guess we're screwed. I'm fighting."
"Wait! Adrian!"
The mage stopped, pivoting on his left foot, bringing his staff around to slam into a werewolf's jaw as it reached for him.
"Maker! I didn't realize it was right behind me!" The werewolf was knocked to the ground, where Adrian held it with a conjured prison. Its jaw was broken in several places from the impact with Adrian's staff, teeth splayed about the ground. It writhed in fury, struggling to reach for the mage. "Piss off." Adrian hissed, and he crushed the thing with one final spell.
"Alistair!" His templar friend was already engaging one of the fell beasts, parrying one while evading another.
"It's times like this I wish the Blight actually made people come together!" The blonde Warden slammed his shield into the closest werewolves chest, following through with a swing that took its head off. "Gotta love Starfang!"
But Adrian knew they'd be overwhelmed soon.
"Into the river!"
"But, with my armor..."
"Do it!"
The Wardens jumped in together, both narrowly avoiding the claws of vengeful werewolves. The current sped them along the way, slamming them into rocks, each other, more rocks, logs and other uncomfortable things. Adrian managed to get am arcane shield around himself and Alistair, but he was unsure how long it would hold.
And then they found the waterfall.
"Oh. There it is." Typical Alistair. He just had to be sarcastic right before they both plummeted to their deaths. Adrian merely sighed as they fell.
ooo
"You're awake." Redhead. Leliana. Explained the annoying, worrisome voice. Still, it comforted the half-conscious Adrian as he lay there in camp, staring at the stars while trying to ignore the pain.
"Where's Alistair? He didn't die yet, did he?" Adrian cracked both his eyes open, pushing away his tiredness.
"Unfortunately, no." Morrigan, it seemed, was none the worse for ware, and if Adrian was seeing correctly, Sten was fine as well. "He was hurt less than you, most likely because of his armor. Still, 'tis surprising he did not drown with all that metal weighing him down. Pity."
"Such a positive person..." Adrian moaned as he sat up. Sten was eying him, scrutinizing, like he used to before Adrian found Asala. Suspicion and... did Adrian see fear? Why?
"How did you survive that fall?" Sten moved forward, grabbing him by the neck of his cloth shirt. Adrian gasped as his wounds reopened, and struggled hopelessly against the Qunari's grasp. Any human, even one who stayed in shape due to constant fighting and near-death experiences, was no match for the Sten.
"How the hell should I know? I got lucky, maybe?" Adrian stared into Sten's eyes, hiding the faint sense of urgency. Despite being grabbed quite often by the brute, he knew, or at least hoped, that the Qunari would not hurt him.
"I do not like being lied to, Kadan. No man could have survived your injuries. You shouldn't have awoken."
"Thanks for the support. I didn't die like I should have. That happens often, it seems. You remember the fight with the High Dragon, right? The beastie swallowed me and I still got out, though I admit I was terrified as I was blasting away with spells from inside its stomach."
"Vashedan." Sten let go, and retreated further away. Adrian was always confused about the mindset of the man, though he trusted the Qunari with his life. Wait. He trusted a man who he knew barely anything about with his life? Oh well. Such is desperation.
Adrian dismissed the rest of the concerned party members quickly. He knew Morrigan was nervous regarding his injuries, but she would never admit it. She scoffed when he brought it up while she was re-bandaging his wounds, after the rest had left.
"'Tis untrue. You are simply necessary. For you to die would be...inconvenient." Morrigan focused on the bandages and, as if to emphasize her point of not caring about him, "accidentally" reopened one of the more minor, but still very painful, wounds.
"You're a liar and we both know it, Morrigan." Adrian liked playing with her. As much as she denied being human, he knew she had some empathy within her. Or at least he hoped she did.
"Regardless, would you mind telling me what you didn't tell the Qunari? Such a secret is so...tantalizing."
"There is no secret. I survived by luck, and luck alone. Like usual." Adrian knew where this was going. Morrigan wanted answers too. She probably tended Adrian's wounds. If she noticed the rate at which he was healing, then...
"Very well. I will not press. What matters is that you live, more than anything. No matter what means you employ to achieve this, I do not care." Morrigan was terse, as usual. She indifferently got up and headed back to her tent, leaving Adrian alone, still sitting up.
The fight was bad, Adrian knew. He wasn't sure what happened after he tumbled down the waterfall. He knew why he survived, though. It wasn't luck.
It never was.
ooo
She lay there, in the darkness.
What were her crimes? Why the death? Her friends were raped, her spouse murdered, yet she lay here, tortured for her "crimes". What crime? Righteous retribution? Yet Vaughan was alive. If only she could break free...
Cyrion always told his daughter that she had iron will, but the iron will rust and break faced with such hopelessness.
Prison. Torture. Pain. Darkness. Months pass and she knows of nothing outside.
But she was just an elf chained to a back wall in the Arl of Denerim's prison.
Iron will does little in the face of this travesty. It does not feed the belly, or inspire the soul with foolhardy determination.
It will not keep her alive forever.
ooo
"Ah, Denerim. Pretty as a painting." Sarcasm, definitely. The city looked terrible, and that was a compliment if you knew what it looked like. Beggars and lepers littered the streets, open wounds festering in the sunlight, the buildings run down, the people frightened. The Blight was coming, and the Landsmeet was to be called in a few day's time. They were nervous, and rightfully so, what with the lords and lordlings fighting over a distant throne, a civil war they never wanted. All they desired was the peace they knew when Cailan was alive.
"Have I heard you say that before? Or am I simply exasperated by how snarky you can be?" Adrian nudged Alistair.
"Little of both, perhaps. Hey! Remember your promise?"
"What promise?"
"About the Wonders of Thedas? Come on, it's right around the corner here..."
"You sir!" Not Alistair. A different voice, from a blonde knight some distance away. Adrian sighed. He had hoped they wouldn't be approached. They had to get to Eamon's estate quietly, else they risked drawing too much attention to themselves. They stood out already as it was. The knight spoke again as he grew close.
"The name is Ser Landry. I have a question."
"Shoot."
"Shoot?"
"It means speak, Ser Knight. The name's Adrian. I'm a traveler from...Redcliffe."
"Redcliffe? My condolences on what happened to your village. I heard the undead horde killed most of the townsfolk. Were you not there?"
Adrian winced. He still regretted not helping the townspeople, but he had to get to Orzammar quickly. He just didn't have time. Adrian didn't even know if Alistair had forgiven him yet.
"I was not... not until later..." Adrian paused, looking away. "Anyways, your question?"
"Ah, yes. I was wondering if you knew anything about the Grey Warden's rumoured to have arrived in Denerim. Perhaps you saw them, or heard something in passing?"
Great. Adrian thought. Just the thing to make his day better.
"Uh, yeah. There's a blonde one. Real ugly fellow, with a prissy attitude and effeminate features." Adrian heard Alistair mumble something about injustices of being a follower behind his back. "The other is a quite striking young lad, a mage."
"My thanks, friend. Do you have any information on where they might be?"
"Not here. I last heard they were heading towards the palace. I think they're going after Loghain! Such monsters, fighting against our hero like that."
"Really! I must be off to my lord's side, then. I cannot thank you enough for the information." Ser Landry grasped Adrian's hand, shook it, and departed swiftly.
"Clever. Are we to lie to everyone we meet, then?" Morrigan just had to comment on everything.
"Aww, does the evil, crazy woman not like lying? Pity."
"I do not believe I am the only evil, crazy one here." Adrian looked at Alistair, Leliana and Morrigan. She obviously meant Adrian, of course...but how...?
"Opinions are like assholes, Morrigan. Everyone has one." Adrian trudged off, surprising the other three. He had felt out of it since his plummet from the waterfall, but there was nothing he could do about it. There was no time to rest. The Landsmeet would be called soon.
"Ah! The savior of my wife and son, welcome!" Arl Eamon greeted them at the door to his estate. Unusual, considering his status. Adrian just wished the Arl wouldn't call him savior, considering past events, but there was nothing he could do about that. "Two important things happened while you weren't here. First, Loghain showed himself."
"What?" The queen piece had moved too soon. Was Loghain planning something? "What did he do? What did he say?"
"He insinuated that I was a threat, and I imagine he will be making moves against us soon. You'd best be on your guard moving about the city." Arl Eamon paused, sighing. "The second event is much more...disturbing."
"It seems I only get bad news these days. No king in Orzammar, tower being taken over by demons, werewolves wreaking havoc...
"The queen is being held hostage. Her handmaiden requested we help her."
"Shit."
"What are we waiting for, then?" Alistair stepped forward. "She could be a powerful ally in the Landsmeet, couldn't she? We should rescue her."
"Alistair is right. She would be useful, though I do not know if we can trust them." Arl Eamon looked surprised. No big deal, there. Alistair generally wasn't one to think ahead like that.
"You want me to rescue her anyway?" Adrian sighed. Just once he'd like a break. Maker...
"Of course. I'll take you to Erlina. She's upstairs, in my room."
"Oh, no point taking a rest, then. Grey Warden, at your command! Overwork me to your heart's content! Please." Adrian bemoaned his fate as he was led away. "Next you'll be asking me to free some oppressed people or something, I swear."
ooo
"She still conscious? After that beatin' you gave her, I'd be surprised if she was." Disgusting shems. Always they were like this, ogling her, touching her, but she always kept them away somehow. Eventually, she knew she wouldn't even have the strength to resist anymore. How long had she been down here? She lost count, and soon stopped caring, after six months. The days and nights were blended together down here in the dark. The alienage was a distant dream, now. Vaughan but an unpleasant memory. Soris... and Shianni. She failed them. She failed them all, Valendrian, her father, everyone.
"I want to get rough wit' 'er too. She's a pretty 'lil thing ain't she? Her beauty ain't disappeared since she got here all 'dem months ago."
"No guard's crazy enough to go that far wit' her. She snapped Alec's neck, remember?"
"'Dat was a long time ago. Months of torture have a way of makin' people more pliable, see?" The guard on the left edged close. His words rang true, though. She had no strength left.
The arrow sprouted from his neck, then. So suddenly it happened that the elf thought it was simply a trick of the light. She got those sometimes. When the blood sprayed on her, she knew better. What was going on? The other guard shouted something before another arrow found his neck, silencing him forever.
"Hey! Adrian, there's someone here!" It was a woman's voice. The elf could barely make her out from where she was chained to a wall, but she could see the fiery red hair and the bow in her hand.
"A girl!" A shem entered. Black hair, a tattoo over one eye. He moved as if he was in a hurry, but a strange, almost playful, light danced in his facial expressions. He seemed more real to her than any of the other shems, those demons that plagued her constantly. Still, he was human.
Humans deserved to die.
"Are you hurt?" He had a staff in his hand. A mage, then? Great. A shem, and a mage on top of that. Just the prefect person to find her in a prison. Still, maybe she could get free...?
"I...uh..."
"She looks like she's been beaten. Stay still, girl. I have some healing magics I can use."
As the mage twirled his staff once, the door to her prison ripped off its hinges and deposited itself against a far wall. Another twirl released her from her wall shackles. The girl dropped on her legs, but they collapsed beneath her, unused to walking as they were.
The mage moved over quickly, propping her up.
"What's your name?"
"Rayne. Rayne Tabris. Daughter of Cyrion Tabris." It felt alien to speak to someone who wasn't trying to muster the courage to violate her.
"Does it hurt anywhere? Leliana, watch the corridor! Where's Alistair and Sten? Did they chase after the mage?"
"Ahh! Choose one question, Adrian, and ask it, not so many!" The red head, Rayne was assuming was named Leliana, scurried off with bow in hand.
"My leg...I can't feel it. I don't think I'm hurt too bad elsewhere, though."
The mage, Adrian, kissed his amulet and pressed it against her leg, calmly whispering under his breath. She could feel blood pumping into her leg again as healing energy danced off his hand and into her limb. A massive relief washed over her, she had thought for sure the leg may have to come off. Then again, it wouldn't have mattered anyway if no one had found her. Rayne may hate shems, but she knew not to be ungrateful.
Rayne tried to stand, leaning against the wall for support. It had been so long since she last stood on the power of her feet alone. It hurt, but the pain was good. Pain meant she was alive. She would survive after all, somehow, thanks to this mage.
Wait. Why was she feeling appreciation towards some worthless shem?
"Are you all right, Rayne?" The mage was looking at her. She could see concern when Adrian looked at her. She was about to speak, but his eyes stopped her cold.
They were red as blood.
Her stomach clenched, she went cold and her breath caught. Her fingers went numb again, and fear gripped her chest. What manner of trickery was this? Who was this mage?
Why did he save her?
ooo
"Maker! Stop that...that brute of yours from doing that! It's barbaric!"
"Sten, he's dead." Alistair rolled his eyes. Typical nobles and their aversions to blood. He may be the heir, but Alistair would rather eat Morrigan's cooking than be squeamish. Alistair had to admit Sten was being excessive, however.
"Alistair, I have seen mages come back from the dead before. It is not fun."
"That's no excuse to stab him so many times. Maker, he's tapioca now."
"Wasn't he the one in control of Anora's barrier? The more dead the better."
"Simply being dead is fine enough for me, thank you very much. No need to go all stabby-mc-stab-kill on me, now."
"We should find Adrian. He will want to know where we went. And if I choose to mutilate a mage, I shall do so."
"Why?"
"Because."
"Ah. Expounding on your personal feelings as always, Sten."
"I take pride in my ability to entertain."
"Is that a joke? Sarcasm? Some sort of humanity below that cold, dark exterior?"
"No."
"Pity."
"Why do I have two fools as my saviors...?" Alistair heard Vaughan sigh. He and Sten had found him chained up deeper inside, and after telling them he was a noble, they decided to let him come with them. They both regretted it, considering he wouldn't stop complaining.
Sten was quickly growing tired of it, exemplified by how he grabbed Vaughan's neck and pressed him against a wall. "Would you rather you be stuck in there, or crushed against this wall?"
"You wouldn't dare. I'm Arl Urien's son. I'm important!" Sten merely growled.
"Oh, let him go. We both decided we'd let Adrian deal with it, like always. So can you refrain from killing him?"
"Very well." Sten let go. Vaughan stumbled as he caught himself.
The lordling still complained.
ooo
"Maker! Who's that!" Rayne heard Leliana cry out in surprise. Adrian turned immediately from focusing on the gash on Rayne's arm, which was keeping her from putting weight on that limb.
"Says he's a noble." She could faintly hear some other man's voice. Light, more carefree than she was used to. Similar to the mage's, except without the chilling feeling she got when she heard Adrian's voice. And his eyes...they seemed to peer into her soul. What was he? She'd never met a shem like Adrian before, though it may just be a general trait of mages. She'd never met a mage before.
But then he walked into the door.
The object of her hatred, the image of her oppression, the reason for her imprisonment, the betrayer, murderer of her would-be husband... the one who raped Shianni.
Vaughan.
Rayne stood slowly, keeping in the shadows, to make sure he didn't see her. Adrian had since stood and made his way over to the disgusting noble. Why were they together? Were they cooperating?
It didn't matter. Her revenge was at hand.
Vaughan will die.