*Author's Notes: Picking up at the beginning of the game, Hawke and company take on the blight with Malcolm at the lead. I kept much of the same dialogue from the scene with Flemeth the same because I love that scene so much and could not do it justice on my own. Enjoy*
Eight years later, outside of the Village of Lothering after the Battle of Ostagar.
The Blight had descended upon Lothering without warning. It had been several days since word came about the army of King Cailan's defeat at Ostagar but no one was prepared for the monstrous creatures that swarmed from the barren hills.
Walking like men but with faces and skin like desiccated corpses, their armor and weapons were made from spikes of hammered metal as they stalked the hills like predators on the hunt. These were the darkspawn, creatures born of the taint supposedly cast down upon the land by the Maker when the greedy Magisters of Tevinter defiled his Golden City. Since that day thousands of years ago, four blights had ravaged the land.
Apparently now the fifth had begun. Striking without mercy, burning everything in the path of the darkspawn horde.
And so the Hawke family fled, the magic of Malcolm Hawke and his children holding the darkspawn at bay as the now homeless Fereldans ran for their very lives.
"Burn!" Malcolm Hawke cried out as a dozen of the creatures fell to his fire as Garrett and his younger sister Bethany added their own magic to their father's inferno.
"Stand back mother!" Bethany's twin brother Carver warned their mother, Leandra. Not a shred of magic in him, Carver Hawke was a skilled warrior whose sword had already slain many darkspawn.
"We need to keep moving," Malcolm urged as more darkspawn arrived, hesitant to cross the wall of fire between them and the Hawkes. "Carver, watch your mother. Bethany, keep an eye on our rear. Garrett, with me," he ordered.
The five continued on, running in silence save for haggard breaths until Garrett's Mabari war hound, Tulcas, began to growl.
"He smells something," said Garrett with a scowl, his shaggy black hair and beard matted with sweat as he gripped his jewel topped staff.
"More darkspawn?" Carver asked as Leandra and Bethany approached.
"Looks like it," Garrett moved around a bend in the dirt path to see a group of a dozen darkspawn surrounding a man and woman attempting to hold the creatures off with their swords.
The man, a Templar by the armor he wore, fell to the ground as a single darkspawn slashed at him from behind only to be tackled to the ground by the woman and beaten to a bloody pulp before she relieved the creature of it's head with a splash of tainted blood.
"We need to help them," said Malcolm, his own staff at the ready.
"But father! He's a Templar!" Bethany cried out in protest. "He'd sooner see us locked in chains than thank us for saving his life."
"Perhaps," Malcolm acknowledged, "but that does not mean that we should let him die," he charged in, Garrett hot on his heals as the two cut down the remaining darkspawn with staves and magic alike.
Stopping as the last of the creatures fell, Garrett turned to the woman kneeling beside the Templar at the edge of a boulder. "Are you alright?" he asked as he offered a hand to the woman, her blazing red hair kept back in a ponytail.
"Yes… thank you," she nodded as the Templar stood shakily, the tendons in his shoulder blade clearly severed by how his arm hung limp at his side. In all likelihood he would never be able to wield a sword again, fortunate indeed for the three mages of the Hawke family.
"Stand back apostates!" the Templar warned, struggling just to stand as the rest of the family approached.
"Well the Maker has a sense of humor, darkspawn and now a Templar," Bethany noted sarcastically, no longer afraid of the wounded man.
"Wesley, please," the red-haired woman sighed, "They saved us."
"The spawn are clear in their intent but a mage is always unknown!" the Templar, Wesley, warned, glancing back over his should at the woman so as only to take his eyes off of Malcolm and his children for a split second at a time.
"You should be grateful, Templar," Malcolm replied, jabbing a finger at the Holy Sword of Andraste crest on Wesley's breastplate. "I have put my family at risk to help you."
"And we are grateful," the woman scowled at Wesley before turning back to Malcolm and Garrett. "I am Aveline Valen and this is my husband Ser Wesley. We can hate each other when we're safe from the Horde."
"I don't think that will be so easy," Carver noted, his sword pointed in the direction of a massive, horned darkspawn standing on the barren hilltop ahead of them.
Letting out a savage roar, the monstrosity charged the Hawke family and their new companions with the force of a landslide.
"Scatter!" Malcolm shouted as he dove to the dirt, narrowly missing being trampled by the beast.
"Look out father!" Bethany shouted as she and Garrett both sent balls of searing fire at the creature.
"Stand back," Aveline warned her husband, her sword and shield at the ready as she and Carver both hacked into the ogre's thick hide only to be batted aside by a swing of it's massive hand.
"Maker give me strength!" Bethany prayed, spraying fire once more as the beast turned to attack her and Leandra, snapping Bethany's wooden staff like a twig and essentially removing her from the fight.
"Leave this to me," Malcolm stepped in front of his daughter to shield her, his golden staff glowing with power as he let loose a wave of magical force to taunt the beast. "I will draw it away! Garrett, I want you to take care of the family for me!"
"No father! You are not sacrificing yourself here!" Garrett stood his ground only to be repulsed by a glyph summoned by his father.
"Malcolm no!" Leandra cried as her husband loosed spell after spell of fire, ice, lightning, earth, and spirit at the ogre. Leaping over its clumsy attack to stab his staff into the massive darkspawn's eye, the beast tossed him aside as it roared in pain.
"Everyone stand back," Malcolm warned as he scrambled to his feet, calling down a rain of fiery explosions from the sky to barrage his foe. Suddenly from the inferno, a boulder came sailing through the air; barely missing Malcolm as he spun out of the way only to realize the it was sailing toward Aveline and Garrett.
"Get down!" Garrett shouted, reacting just in time as he tackled the warrior woman to the ground, covering her body with his own as the rock landed with a massive crash just a few yards behind them.
"I… thank you…" Aveline nodded as Garrett pulled himself off of her, taking note of her bright green eyes and pale, freckled skin in the process.
Hunkering down next to Bethany with his sword protecting them both, Carver led her over to where their mother stood with Wesley, still crying out to husband as he faced the Ogre. "Mother, we should go," Carver tried in vein to move her out of harm's way.
"Not a blighted chance," Leandra snapped, holding her hands over her heart as Malcolm once again attacked the darkspawn, racing across the barren dirt with his staff spinning. The Ogre reached out and time seemed to slow as its armored fist slammed into his side.
"Father!" the three Hawke children called out at once as Malcolm collapsed, falling to his knees with a cry of pain, several of his ribs obviously broken.
Pounding on itschest with savage glee, the Ogre grabbed up Malcolm in its fist, slamming him down onto the ground with sickening spurts of blood from a dozen shattered bones.
"Malcolm!" Leandra rushed past Carver and Garrett to her husband, ignoring the giant darkspawn as it roared in triumph, calling a swarm of its smaller companions to the scene with the scent of blood in the air.
"Foul beast," said Garrett Hawke under his breath, marching toward the gathering horde of tainted monsters as he gripped the blade of his staff with white-knuckled fury, drawing a thin trail of blood from his palm.
All became silent except for the siren whispers of demons from beyond the fade, calling out to him as his vision was blurred by red. He ignored their tempting calls, offering power and riches that meant nothing to Garrett Hawke now. He was fueled by a thirst for revenge.
Ribbons of blood and red energy enveloped the young man as he exerted his force of will onto the Ogre, tearing it limb from limb with a savage yell as his family watched in horror.
But his anger only grew. Clenching his fists and grinding his teeth, a half dozen darkspawn exploded from the inside out as their blood literally boiled.
This was the power of blood magic. Forbidden magic. It marked him as a Maleficar, to be killed on sight by the Templars of the Chantry. It was necessary for Garrett Hawke however, as the power to control his own blood had, with the help of his father, kept his lycanthrope curse at bay.
The advancing darkspawn fell in droves, blood running from their blasted out eyes until the last of them died in a mess of torn flesh and gore.
With a pounding in his ears as his skin felt as though it were on fire, Garrett forced himself to regain his composure. Pushing the rage and the demons away with haggard breaths.
"Garrett!" he heard voices calling out to him. Their names slowly coming back to him as his vision cleared. Bethany, Carver, mother…
"Maleficar!" another voice shouted, filled with anger and fear.
Garrett Hawke turned to see Wesley Valen. Barely able to stand, the Chantry's holy soldier held his sword in his off hand, a sneer of hatred plastered on his blood stained face.
"We have saved your life, Templar. My father died protecting you!" said Garrett as he allowed himself to collapse, too drained to stand. The fight that would ensue from the injured Templar and the worn out mage might have been comical in any other situation but it was not the time. Garrett merely watched as Aveline rushed to her husband, his face clouded over with bulging veins.
"Come on brother," said Carver as helped Garrett to his feet, "we need to keep moving."
The Hawke brothers made their way to where Bethany stood with their father's golden staff, a comforting hand on her mother's shoulder as she weeping over Malcolm Hawke's broken body.
"We have to go mother," Bethany pleaded, "father wouldn't want us to stay here because of him," her words however, fell on deaf ears as Leandra seemed determined to stay and die alongside her beloved husband.
"We're not out of this yet," Carver warned, supporting Garrett on his shoulder as another band of darkspawn emerged from the rocky landscape.
The group of travelers, battered, beaten, and demoralized, stood their ground against the darkspawn that cornered them against a cliff. Some offered prayers to the Maker while others held their family members close but the attack did not come. What came instead was a terrible roar from above as a legendary dragon swooped from the sky, tearing into the darkspawn with claws and fire. Grabbing a single Hurlock, the Dragon climbed high into the sky, dropping the creature to its death before diving back into the fray, scorching several more and taking out another three with a swipe of its tail.
Summoning all of his strength, Garrett stood and hobbled toward the beast. As it noticed him approaching, the dragon became consumed in a vortex of bright, golden light, shrinking to the size of human and coalescing into a shapely woman. Older, with flowing white hair, she wore crimson robes with armored gauntlets and greaves as she sauntered confidently toward them.
"Well, well… what have we here?" she asked, her voice deep and haggard yet belonging to someone with years of knowledge and experience. "Used to be we never got visitors this far into the wilds but now it seems they arrive in hordes," she smirked, approaching Garrett, sizing up the young mage.
"Impressive, where'd you learn to turn into a dragon?" he asked, standing firm to hide his apprehension.
"Maybe I am a dragon. If so, count yourself lucky that the smell of burning darkspawn does nothing for the appetite," she teased, turning away as she continued to speak. "If you wish to flee the darkspawn then you should know that you are going in the wrong direction."
"Wait," Bethany spoke up, gripping Malcolm's staff close. "You can't just leave us here!"
"Can I not? I spotted a most curious sight, a mighty Ogre vanquished. Who could perform such a feat?" she asked rhetorically, "But now my curiosity is sated and you are safe, for the moment. Is that not enough?"
"You could show me that trick of yours, that looks useful," Garrett grinned. Recognizing the woman's teasing wit.
She gave a hearty chuckle at Hawke's response before responding, "If only a clever tongue was all one needed," she said. "Tell me clever child, how do you intend to outrun the blight?"
"We need to get to Kirkwall, in the Free Marches," said Leandra, finally speaking up, as she mentioned her home city that she had fled with Malcolm years before.
"Kirkwall?" the dragon woman asked, actually surprised. "My, that is quite the voyage you plan. Your king will not miss you?"
"The king is dead, betrayed," said Carver, having been present with the army at Ostagar.
"I see. Hurtled into the chaos you fight and the world will shake before you," she mused, her tone becoming ominous. "Is it fate or chance? I can never decide," she spoke to herself, scratching her chin by reflex before turning her attention back to Garrett. "It seems that fortune smiles upon us both today, I may be able to help you yet."
"Anything you could do would be appreciated," he replied, not about to turn away help from a woman who could turn into a dragon.
"Maybe we shouldn't trust her, we don't even know what she is," Bethany warned in a hushed tone.
"I know what she is," Aveline spoke up from where she knelt as Wesley's side, "the witch of the wilds."
"Some call me that," the woman shrugged, "Also Flemeth, Asha'Belenar, an old hag who talks to much," she chuckled again. "Does it matter? I offer you this, I will get your group past the horde in exchange for a simple delivery to a place not far out of your way. Would you do this for a witch of the wilds?"
Looking back over his shoulder, Hawke felt a pang of guilt at the sight of Aveline tended to Wesley as he heaved over a pain in his stomach. "Roast a few more darkspawn and I'll do anything you want," he replied, determined to see them all to safety, as his father would have wanted.
"Sadly my charity is at an end," said Flemeth. "There is a clan of Dalish Elves near the city of Kirkwall. Deliver this amulet to their keeper, Marethari. Do as she asks with it and any debt between us is paid in full," she placed a small, golden necklace in his hands. "Before I take you anywhere however, there is another matter," her gaze fell upon Aveline and Wesley.
"No! Leave him alone," Aveline warned, standing up to the dragon woman.
"What has been done to your man is within his blood already," said Flemeth with honest sympathy in her tone.
"You lie!"
"She's right Aveline," Wesley interrupted, "I can feel the corruption inside me."
"What are you talking about?" Hawke asked from where he stood between Aveline and Flemeth.
"From the darkspawn, all of that blood, I knew," Wesley grunted, "when it happened."
"And how much time before you…?" Aveline let the question trail off, her meaning obvious.
"Not long now, if I am any judge," said Flemeth. "The only cure I know of is to become a Grey Warden."
"And they all died at Ostagar," Carver piped up grimly.
"Not all of them, but the rest are now beyond your reach," Flemeth shrugged, smug the in fact that she knew more than she was letting on.
"Aveline, listen to me," said Wesley holding his side as his eyes grew dark with disease.
"You can't ask me this… I won't!" said Aveline, placing her hand on his shallow cheek.
"Please, the corruption is a slow death. I can't…"
Kneeling beside the young couple, seemingly the only one aware that there were likely still darkspawn about, Hawke placed a reassuring hand on Aveline's shoulder. "He's your husband Aveline, I can't decide his fate."
With a morbid nod and tears in her eyes, Aveline took Wesley's knife as he offered her the blade, holding her hands over his own as she forced the blade into his heart, ending his suffering with one last cry of pain. She tenderly reached out, closing his eyes as Flemeth approached.
"Without an end there can be no peace," said the witch. "It gets no easier. Your struggles have only just begun."