Tamlen! By all the gods... Tamlen! She shouted, in her dream, wandering in the ruins for him. Deep down, she knew she would not find him, he was lost. Still, she searched, calling for him, her best friend.
She jolted awake, sitting upright. She looked around, it was only her and Duncan, the grey warden.
They packed up their meager camp and set forth again, journeying to Ostagar, where the the army would make its stand. Kris said very little, troubled by her nightmares, still partially numb with shock for all that had transpired.
Darkspawn had been felled by her blades, her skin tainted by their blood, her mind tortured by their prescence. She walked, ate, and slept all without words. Duncan rarely spoke except to mention when they would be stopping for the night.
At last, their destination reached, she was left to find Alistair when she was ready so that their real task could begin, her becoming a Grey Warden.
She walked towards the area Duncan said Alistair would likely be, following the sounds of voices, one highly agitated, the other painstakingly calm.
A man in splintmail armour was speaking to a man dressed in robes, a mage. The mage stalked off rather angirly, and the warrior turned to her.
"I just love how the Blight brings people together."
She stared at him a moment, slowly though, a smile formed up on her lips. "I know exactly what you mean good sir!"
They chuckled heartily before sobering up. "You must be Alistair," the elf acknowledged.
"And you must be the new recruit Duncan mentioned."
"Kris," She extended her hand.
They shook and he nodded. "Have you fought any darkspawn?"
She nodded and he continued, "I was completely unprepared the first time I fought one. It was horrible."
Again, she nodded and they set off to join Duncan and the other two recruits.
Once their tasks had been explained to them, they set off for the Wilds. Not much was said amongst the group.
Kris picked a Wilds flower, placing it in her pack, for the Kennel Master. They pressed on, Genlocks stood atop a hill, firing, Hurlocks charged them. The fog seemed to lift from her mind, she danced among them, slicing them in two, beheading them, until she was alone, the others were far behind. She had killed the majority of them, she had only their blood upon her skin and armour.
Daveth especially was looking at her as if she had suddenly sprouted a second head.
"It's not that special. Stop looking at me in that way shem," She growled, walking around them.
The majority of the encounters with the Darkspawn went in the same way, she stood alone, covered in their blood once the battle was at an end. She garnered a very few arrow and scratch wounds. Gathering the blood vials proved easy enough, as for the Warden Treaties, that was proving more difficult. Another battle with a Hurlock Alpha and half a dozen Hurlocks, and they arrived at the old Grey Warden Tower.
The others stayed back while Kris slowly walked over to the broken chest. There was nothing there.
"Who are you I wonder? Disturbing ashes none have touched in a very long time," a soft, cloyingly beautiful voice asked from her left.
She stood slowly, edging back towards her companions. "And just how would you know?"
"The documents of which you seek are here no longer."
"Did you remove them?" Alistair asked, outraged.
"No, twas my mother," the woman smiled.
"Can you take us to her?" Kris asked, her voice nuetral.
"Of course, come with me," the woman said, turning around and walking deeper into the Wilds.
With a glance at each other, they followed the strange woman.
Once they returned to Ostagar, they went their seperate ways for a few hours. She thought about the battles, how she was rarely touched. Killing the darkspawn, that was her new purpose. They had somehow taken Tamlen, she would slaughter as many as she could to get him back, even if it was impossible, she would slaughter them in retribution.
At last, Duncan summoned them. The other two were nervously chattering.
"Shut up! Bloody shem," She grumbled, annoyed at her own outburst.
At last, the Joining began. Daveth died, Jory was slain, her own was unimaginable pain. She survived though, as she knew she would. She slid the amulet around her neck, the one containing the blood. She was a real Grey Warden now.
There was to be a meeting with the King. She walked slowly down to the meeting place.
Her and Alistair's task was simple, light the beacon when the signal was given. She had a deep feeling that it would not be that simple. Things never went the way they were supposed to, especially in war.
Alistair said his goodbye's to Duncan and they set off for the tower. The storm kicked off fiercly, they could barely hear over the thunder, but the battle was beginning.
They jogged to the tower, two guards told them the tower had been taken over by darkspawn. Resolved hardened, they plunged into the battle. Genlock Emissaries, Hurlock Alphas, the four felled them all, already drenched in blood and rain when they reached the doors to the tower. There were a total of four floors.
A group of genlock archers and a genlock emissary awaited them on the first floor. They made it through the first two floors without serious injury. On the third floor, one of the guards had a dislocated hand. The mage put it back in place. They continued on, fighting wave after wave of darkspawn. As they neared the fourth floor, the tide ceased. Taking deep breaths, the ascended the final steps.
The sight that greeted them was one none of them would soon forget, should they live. An ogre, it crushed one last guard, throwing it away and bellowing at them in a shower of saliva.
Kris took command, "Mage, set it aflame, guardsman, try to take out a leg, Alistair, the same for you."
They rushed to do as commanded. She ran foreward, dodging, rolling, barely escaping a crushed arm. One of them got it down on one knee, she took her chance, leaping high, stabbing it deep in the chest, twisting the swords deep within, dragging one free in a spray of blood to plunge it back in. The ogre struggled a few seconds longer before collapsing, she jumped off, sheathing her weapons.
Alistair rushed to light the beacon, he was limping, bleeding from a head wound. Her ribs ached, some were likely cracked if not entirely broken.
Battle cries, we spun, arrows, blackness.
Kris stirred, twitching, then she jolted upright. "Where...?"
"Flemeth saved you," the woman from the Wilds told her.
"Why would that shem save us?"
"Mother has her reasons," she replied.
Kris shook her head, getting her light leather armour back on and her swords. "I suppose I should thank you shem," Kris grudgingly said, looking at the ground.
"You don't need... Yes, well you're welcome, though mother did most of the work."
"I assume Alistair is alive too?" Kris asked.
"The dim-witted one that was with you before, yes, he was quite afriad that you would not wake," she informed the elf.
"Lovely...," She muttered. "Everyone else is dead then?"
The woman nodded, she said nothing more, exiting the hut.
Flemeth, she, and Alistair spoke of their next actions, of stopping the Blight, gathering allies, and stopping Teryn Loghain.
"Morrigan will accompany you." Flemeth announced.
"What?" Morrigan looked at her mother.
"They need you," was all the old woman would say.
Alistair looked angry and terrified, at the same time.
"We will be glad of her company. Thank you for all that you have done Flemeth," Kris said softly, looking over at the young mage.