It was the sun shining into her eyes that eventually tore Elissa from her hellish nightmares. Every inch of her ached as though she had been crushed by some massive force, and the tips of fingers tingled with everything she touched. She could hear with a heightened sense the movement around her, the murmurs of the men in the camp, heavy footsteps on the stone, and presently someone's voice was very near, "You may as well get up, because I know you're awake."

Elissa opened her eyes, resisting to urge to hiss at the glare from the sun. Alistair was standing in the doorway of the shabby tent she now lay in, watching her tensely. She sat up, feeling heavy and sluggish, and pressed a hand to her head, groaning, "Ugh, what happened to me?"

Alistair moved inside and sat on the edge of her cot. "You survived the Joining," he said simply. "Its not an easy thing to do, I might add." He paused, watching her as she collected her bearings. After a time, he asked, "Did you have nightmares? After my Joining I had... terrible dreams."

She didn't respond; she didn't want to remember her nightmares just yet. Instead, she swung her legs off her bed and stood, feeling rather like a displaced soul in the wrong body. She looked around the tent at her belongings. Who had been responsible for bringing me here, she wondered. She could not remember anything after she had taken of the blood.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the Joining," Alistair continued, sounding a little nervous. "But I promise you, we're not allowed. Drinking darkspawn blood... if everyone knew what they had to do, no one would want to be a Warden. And we need all the help we can get."

Elissa turned back and stared at him blankly, as if she only just realized he was there. She tried to smile, but even her face ached. "Nothing you could have said would have prepared me for that," she assured him. "I just..." She sat next to him on the cot, running her fingers through her short hair. "I can't remember anything. What happened?"

"Well," Alistair replied slowly, looking rather uncomfortable. "When you drank the blood... it was awful. You started seizing and convulsing on the ground. We weren't sure you were going to... you know, make it. And then you just went still. We thought you were dead, but then Duncan heard you breathing. It turns out you had just... gone to sleep." He shrugged. "Exhaustion is a common side affect after the Joining, so we brought you here to rest. Its a good thing you're finally awake though, we've got the battle here in a few hours."

"What?!" Elissa yelped, yanking open the flap of the small tent. Just as he said, the sun was already setting and the soldiers all around were making their final preparations. It occurred to her that it had been the position of the sun in the sky that finally roused her from sleep. She stumbled back onto the cot, shaking her head as if to clear it. "What about Jory and Daveth?"

Alistair shook his head sadly. "They... they didn't... survive." He looked up into her stricken face. "Daveth went after you. He thought that if you were good enough, so should he be. The taint killed him almost instantly. As for Jory..." He sighed. "He became frightened after what happened to Daveth. He drew his sword, tried to fight his way out. Duncan caught up with him in the end and...." He swallowed and said no more.

Elissa stared at him in horror but could think of nothing to say. After a few minutes of silence, Alistair looked at her, reaching out a hand in which he was holding a dark red amulet. "Here," he murmured. "After every Joining we take some of the blood and put it in a pendant. You know... as something to remind us of those who... didn't make it this far." She put it on instantly and he smiled hopefully at her. "I'm glad at least one of you made it."

"One of us?" She asked, lifting an eyebrow, hoping to lighten the air.

Fortunately, his smile widened. "Well... I'm glad you made it anyhow. Happy now?"

"Never," she teased, stretching. "So what happens now? We've got the battle tonight, right?"

Alistair stood, nodding. "I'm not sure what Duncan wants us to do, but he did ask that you attend a meeting with him and the king as soon as you're up and about." He watched her carefully as she retrieved her weapons from a corner of the tent. "I'd take a few minutes to yourself though," he advised. "The Joining is a gruelling ordeal. Just relax for a bit, pull yourself together, then go meet Duncan. He said the meeting is taking place in the northwest corner of the camp, behind the quartermaster." He saluted and disappeared from the tent.

The moment he was gone, Elissa flopped back onto her cot, drapping an arm over her eyes. She still felt quite exhausted, but she had already slept for almost 24 hours and if she went back to sleep she would miss the battle (not to mention risking the fury of her fellow Wardens). She tried to will the tension her muscles to go away, to no avail. And everytime she closed her eyes she could see that horrible rotting corpse that was once a dragon.... The archdemon.... Suddenly she realized how Duncan knew that this was really a Blight....

After she had ample time to collect herself, she pulled on the boots that had been removed while she slept and saw with dismay that they were fraying at the seams of the leather. Not that she could hardly be surprised by such a thing; the boots were rather old and had seen more action yesterday than they had in a very long time. Nevertheless, she pulled them on and trudged uncomfortably over to the quartermaster to buy replacements.

~~**~*~**~~

Many expect our Age's greatest heroine to resemble the models of adventurers of fables past: that she wore gleaming white full plate with her family crest stamped on the chest, and her sword was an heirloom of the Couslands for many generations. However aesthetically pleasing that might sound, it simply was not Elissa.

She was very practical in the armor she wore and the weapons she wielded. She preferred a lighter set of armor, typically leather, or even cloth; as for her weapons she favored two lighter blades as opposed to one large one. She was forevermore looking for was to improve her gear. She had not the sentiment to continue using the armor she wore when she escaped Highever or the first daggers her father had given her when she was a lass. When something came along that was stronger or more efficient she would trade it for whatever she had been using without batting an eye, often selling the discarded item to a merchant so that she might not be burdened with it's load.

There is one weapon, so they say, that she did not simply through away after a new one caught here eye: her father's longsword. Though she put it away in favor of a more lethal blade, it is said that she always carried it in her magical bag until the day she had her vengeance on Arl Howe. Then the sword disappeared, and to where no one can say.

~~**~*~**~~

It did not take long for Elissa to find the meeting place Alistair had told her about. A small group of officers, the revered mother, the highest ranking mage of the contingency who had been sent from Circle Tower, Duncan, King Cailan, and an important looking man whom Elissa assumed was Teyrn Loghain were all standing around a table, poring over the map draped across it.

"Loghain, my decision is final," the king was saying with a note of firmness in his voice as Elissa tiptoed around the group to stand with Duncan. "I will stand with the Grey Wardens in this assault."

The man called Loghain was scowling, or perhaps that was just how his face was shaped. Either way, he did not look very pleased as he glared at Cailan. "You risk too much," he was saying darkly. "The darkspawn horde is too dangerous for you to be playing hero on the front lines." Privately, Elissa agreed. For all the king's assurances that the battle would be no worse than a walk in the Wilds, it did not seem very wise for Cailan to lead the charge himself. However, the king would hear none of it.

"If that's the case then perhaps we should wait for the Orlesian forces to join us, after all." He lifted his eyebrows.

Loghain sighed in frustration, "I must repeat my protest to your fool notion that we need the damned Orlesians to defend ourselves."

Cailan frowned deeply. "It is not a fool notion," he said with a touch of annoyance. "Our arguments with the Orlesians are a thing of the past, dead and buried at the end of the war. And," he added, drawing up his chest. "You will remember who is king."

"How fortunate, then," Loghain sneered. "That Maric did not live to see his son hand Ferelden over to those who enslaved us for a century."

Elissa's furrowed her eyebrows, trying to recall her history lessons. If she remembered correctly, it was this Loghain who had been the late King Maric's best general in the war for independance against Orlais. That would explain his detestation of asking them for help, she thought, but that hardly gives him the right to be subordinate, best friend of Maric or no.

Presently, it looked as though Cailan wanted to say something about Loghain's accusation but he finally decided against it. "Our current forces will have suffice, then," he said, sounding surprisingly calm. "Duncan, are your men ready for battle?"

"They are, your majesty."

Cailan smiled at Elissa. "And I would like to personally congratulate you on your successful Joining. Every Grey Warden is needed now. You should be honored to join their ranks."

Before Elissa could utter any word of thanks, Loghain cut in contemptuously. "Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, Cailan. We must attend to reality."

Now really, Elissa thought angrily. That was just unnecessary! She was so perturbed by this that she actually opened her mouth to argue back, but out of the corner of her eye she could see Duncan shake his head, and so she held her silence.

Cailan, however, merely sighed and leaned over the table once more. "Fine then, speak your strategy. The Grey Wardens and I will draw the darkspawn into charging our ranks here." He pointed at a spot on the map, then looked over his shoulder at Loghain with a half-smirk on his lips. "And then?"

Loghain glowered at the king, "You will alert the tower to light the beacon signaling my men to charge from cover --"

"-- to flank the darkspawn, obliterating their army. Yes, I remember." Cailan shook his head, more to himself than to anyone, and found another landmark on the map, at which he pointed now. "This is the Tower of Ishal on the eastern side of the ruins? Who shall light the beacon?"

"I have a few men stationed there," Loghain replied stiffly. "It's not a difficult task but it is vital to our success."

"I agree," Cailan said with a nod and an odd sort of smile as he turned back to Duncan. "That's why we should use our best. Send Alistair and Elissa to see that it is done."

Loghain too faced the Wardens, but he was not smiling. "You rely on the Grey Wardens too much. Is that truly wise?"

"Enough of your conspiracy theories, Loghain," said Cailan with the wave of a hand, as if he were brushing aside something bothersome. "Grey Wardens battle the Blight no matter where they're from."

At this, Duncan cleared his throat to indicate his desire to speak. Both Cailan and Loghain looked at him expectantly. "Your majesty, you must consider the possibility of the archdemon appearing."

"There have been no signs of any dragons in the Wilds," Loghain said quickly. "Isn't that what your men are for?"

Duncan sighed. "Yes, your Lordship."

Loghain smirked, clearly pleased at having shut down Duncan, and turned back to Cailan, his dark expression back in place. "This plan will suffice, the Grey Wardens will light the beacon. I trust they will be properly informed when it is time?"

Cailan nodded. "Yes, Duncan will see it done, I assure you. Thank you, Loghain. I cannot wait for that glorious moment. The Grey Wardens battle beside the king of Ferelden to stem the tide of evil." Looking at the king now, Elissa was reminded of what Wynne had said about him, that he was like a puppy. His face was arranged in such an expression of glee that she had to agree with that assessment.

His general, however, did not look as pleased. "Yes," he muttered quietly as he turned away from the meeting. "A glorious moment for all."

After that the meeting broke up, at least for the Wardens. Duncan indicated for Elissa to follow him away from the small group, as an argument broke out between the mage and the revered mother. Each seemed to be vying for the king's attention, though he didn't seem particularly interested in hearing either of them. What became of the discussion, Elissa didn't know, but she did not care much; she was still turning over what had been said at the meeting in her mind. "Duncan," she said finally. "Why doesn't Loghain trust the Wardens?"

Duncan didn't reply right away, he seemed to be carefully constructing his response. "Teyrn Loghain is a man familiar with a Ferelden without the Grey Wardens. We were still exiled when the war was over and it wasn't until King Maric lifted decree that we were allowed back into the country. Loghain, however, thought it was a foolish move. I think some part of him still associates us with Orlais, and he is not a man who easily forgives." He sighed. "He... was slow to trust Maric's decision to support us and even less so than Cailan's... admiration of our order." They had reached the bonfire now where Alistair was waiting, warming his hands.

"Well," he asked as they approached. "Do we have our assignments?"

"Yes," Duncan replied slowly, and Elissa could tell that he knew Alistair would not like what he had to say. "You and Elissa will go to the Tower of Ishal to light the signal fire for Teyrn Loghain."

"What?" Alistair asked incredulously. "I won't be in the battle again?"

"It is not what you think, Alistair," Duncan reassured him gently. "This is by the king's personal request. If the beacon is not lit, Loghain's men won't know when to charge. If King Cailan wants Grey Wardens there to ensure the beacon is lit, Grey Wardens will be there to ensure the beacon is lit.

Elissa looked at Alistair, utterly confused. What did he mean, "again?" Had he not been in a single battle yet? But how could that be? Hadn't he said he had joined the Wardens six months ago? At present, Alistair folded his arms, staring at the ground moodily, and she felt she had to say something. "We must do whatever it takes to defeat the darkspawn, right?" She asked him, touching him gently on the shoulder. "Even if it's not very exciting."

Alistair groaned, looking up once more. "Alright, I get it. Just so you know, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line, darkspawn or no."

"You seem to have some odd ideas about the king," Elissa said, trying not to laugh.

"I happen to look rather fetching in a dress," replied Alistair, trying to sound haughty.

"Is that so? Then I think I'd actually like to see that."

He grinned at that. "Hmm, for you, maybe. But it has to be a pretty dress. That way we'll all have a good laugh at me shimmying down the front lines while we kill darkspawn."

Duncan sighed, rubbing his face. "The tower is on the other side of the gorge from the king's camp," he said quickly, with the air of wanting to shut out any more banter between the two younger Wardens, who were sharing a private smile. "You'll need to cross the gorge and head through the gate and up to the tower entrance. From the top you'll overlook the entire valley."

Elissa shook her head, trying to clear it for the battle. "And when do we light the beacon," she asked.

"We will signal you when the time is right," replied Duncan. "Alistair will know what to look for. Afterwards, you will stay with the teyrn's men and guard the tower. We will send word if you are needed."

"And..." Elissa began tentatively. "What if the archdemon appears?"

"We soil our drawers, that's what," muttered Alistair under his breath.

"If it does," Duncan said a little more loudly than before, with a look at Alistair. "Leave it to us. I want no heroics from either of you." It was at that moment that a trumpet sounded throughout the ruins, and the already palpable tension in the camp seemed to reach a fever pitch. "It's time; I must join the others," Duncan said. "You two are on your own until Loghain's men arrive. Remember, you are both Grey Wardens. I expect you to be worthy of that title."

Elissa rather felt like a child being scolded by her father.

"Duncan..." Alistair said softly. "May the Maker watch over you."

Duncan nodded and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "May he watch over us all." And with that he turned on his heel, striding off into the throng to find King Cailan. All around them troops of soldiers were moving down into the gorge, a few talking nervously, most silent and resigned. It almost felt as though time had slowed to Elissa. Here, with a garrison walked a chantry sister, murmuring a song-like blessing for the men. There was the small group of mages, guarded by the ever watchful templars, and looking more like prisoners than soldiers.

Presently, Argent touched his mistress's hand with his nose, and Elissa came to her senses. She glanced at her companion to find that he was sulking again, digging a hole in the dirt with his toe. When he saw that she was watching him, he sighed and turned away. "Let's just go. King Cailan needs two Grey Wardens up in the tower holding the torch just in case...." He began walking towards the bridge and Elissa fell into step beside him.

"So... are you going to talk about it," she asked, with a glance up at him.

"Talk about what?" He replied, staring pointedly into the distance.

"Alistair," she said slowly. "You're pouting."

"I am not!"

Elissa lifted her eyebrows at him as if to say, "You're kidding, right?" They reached the bridge and took a moment to stare out over the battlefield. Most of the troops were in ranks now. A unit of marbari warhounds were at the front, the Grey Wardens behind them, then the foot soldiers, and finally the archers in back. Looking into the woods, moving pinpricks of light were starting to form on the horizon. The sounds of thousands of feet marching echoed off the gorge, growing closer and closer. Shrieks and moans were starting to reveberate through the trees, and all the while the torchlights multiplied as the darkspawn horde drew nearer to the ruined city.

It took quite the effort to tear themselves away from the sight, but finally the pair continued moving across the bridge toward the tower. After several long moments, Alistair voiced what seemed to be on his mind. "I just hate getting babied," he said. "This is the fourth battle they wouldn't let me participate in!"

"Duncan didn't let you fight at all?" Elissa asked, incredulous that a man so desperate for new recruits would force a perfectly capable soldier to sit out.

"He always had some excuse," Alistair replied bitterly. "First I was running messages back and forth between the command centers, then it was scouting in an uninhabited part of the forest, and now I'm setting a pile of junk on fire safe in a tower." He picked up a rock and chucked it off the side of the bridge as hard as he could.

Elissa watched the stone's progress in the dim light as long as she could before asking, "But why?"

Alistair didn't respond right away. Finally he sighed, "He has his reasons, I'm sure. But he's never shared them with me." He looked away from her again, and she had the impression that he wasn't being quite truthful, though she didn't feel it wise to press the issue. In the distance, darkspawn were starting to come out of the treeline. An orange glow went up amongst the archers as they nocked flaming arrows to their bows.

"If it's any consolation," Elissa said with a reassuring smile. "The signal fire is a huge factor of tonight's strategy, and King Cailan asked for you personally to ensure it is taken care of. That has to mean something."

"Yes, I suppose," he muttered and Elissa decided to give up the topic for now.

The battle below them had started in earnest by the time they reached the end of the bridge. They could hear the howls of the hounds as they were set loose amongst the ranks of darkspawn, and Elissa found herself glad that Argent was trotting safely alongside her. Streaks of light flashed through the air as the archers loosed their blazing arrows over the melee soldiers, and in the distance Elissa could see the darkspawn loading up trebuchets. When they had successfully crossed, there was an immeadiate sense that something had gone wrong. A small contingent of soldiers had been left here to keep an eye on the tower, but now they were frantic - running in all directions, and screaming for aid.

Elissa and Alistair looked at each other, then broke into a run, searching for the source of the panic. "You there!" Alistair called out, pointing at one of the guardsmen fleeing from the shadow of the tower. "What's going on here?"

"You're... you're Grey Wardens?" The man asked shakily. "The tower... it's been taken!"

"What do you mean, man, taken how?" Alistair asked hurriedly, but Elissa already had guessed the answer. As she looked up at Ishal she could see fires burning in the windows that did not look natural and there was a putrid smell in the air.

"D-darkspawn," the man sputtered. "Came up from the lower chambers. Don't know how they got in. They killed all of Loghain's men. There's no one left...."

"Alistair, let's go," Elissa said, tugging on his arm. "There's not much time, and even less if we have to fight our way up! We have to light the signal fire!" The two tore away from the man as fast as their feet could carry them, stopping only to dispatch the occaisional hurlock or two. By the time they reached the tower, a painful stitch was burning in Elissa's side, but she knew she could not stop now. Alistair pushed open the heavy doors and as if on cue, the room beyond it was set ablaze, arrows flying out from the smoke.

"It was a trap!" Elissa shouted over the din, covering her face to shield herself from the smoke. "There's probably more about. You take care of the darkspawn, I'll take care of their little surprises."

Alistair seemed agreeable to this arrangement and charged into the fray, Argent at his side. A yelp and the clashing of weapons told Elissa that they each had found a mark. But she could not delay. She began sweeping through the large circular room, dodging the occaisional arrow that had been sent her way before either Alistair or Argent could distract whoever had sent it. After a few moments she found what she was looking for: a tripwire had been strung up, connected to two large conspicuously placed barrels. She reached into her magic bag, her fingers instantly finding her bolt cutters, and disabled the wire quickly, shuddering to think what would have happened if the trap had been sprung. She jumped to her feet and was able to sink her sword into the heart of a genlock before he was able to do the same to her.

In the next room they found more darkspawn, who had no doubt heard the commotion. These were just as easily dispatched as the first wave, but now Elissa began to despair. This was taking too much time. How many mobs of these creatures would they have to slay before they reached the signal fire? The second floor was just as badly infested as the first, though they had some help by a few mabari who had, for some reason, been left in their kennels. On the third floor, they found another trap intended for them: ballistas has been rigged up to a pressure plate. Elissa was rather glad she found this one in particular; the bolts harnessed to the ballistas were easily as thick as her arm.

Ten minutes had passed since the start of the battle, and there was a real sense of urgency now. If they weren't late already, they certainly were cutting it very fine. "Maker's breath!" Alistair exclaimed as he bashed a genlock to the floor with his shield. "What are these darkspawn doing ahead the rest of the horde! There wasn't supposed to be any resistence here!"

Elissa ducked the wild swing of a hurlock with a greatsword, digging her dagger into it's thigh. "Weren't you complaining earlier that you wouldn't get to fight?" She pointed out.

"Yes, that's the silver lining here," Alistair replied, finishing off his foe with a quick slice of his sword. "We're alone with dozens of darkspawn who know how to rig a pressure plate, we may have missed the signal, and we're probably going to get yelled at later, but at least we're seeing action."

They rushed to the stairs that led to the fourth floor where, presumably, the beacon was waiting to be lit. Elissa was exhausted as it was; there was a thick gash on her calf from where a nimble genlock had struck her with a knife, making it difficult and painful to put pressure on the leg, but there was no time to even take a breath. Alistair was already heaving open the heavy metal door at the top of the steps. He had barely pushed it two inches when a loud roar sounded, followed by footsteps made by something much large than a human. The door was ripped open the rest of the way. Standing over them on the landing was something that Elissa had only ever heard once mentioned by Duncan, one of the more fearsome products of the darkspawn: an ogre. It was easily three times the size of a man, but just as agile as one, as it's hand shot out and wrapped around Alistair's waist, lifting him into the air just as easily as though he were a rag doll.

To his credit, Alistair seemed to be handling himself quite well. He only yelped a little bit, as the arm holding his sword was crushed into his side; the blade clattered uselessly to the ground. The hand supporting his shield was still free, though he hardly had the leverage to do much with it, not for the lack of trying. "Elissa!" He choked, sounding every bit like a man who was being crushed. "Help!"

But she had been doing all she could already, to no avail. The ogre's skin was thicker than that of the other darkspawn they had encountered previously, and everytime she landed a blow, the beast merely brushed her aside with enough force to blow her clean off her feet. Argent was having little more success, nipping at it's ankles and using the stability of his four limbs to avoid getting knocked prone.

Then there was a horrible cracking noise and Alistair screamed in pain; it sounded as though one or more of his ribs had broken under the enormous weight the ogre was forcing on him. Maker, what can I do? Elissa thought desperately. Then she remembered the wound on her leg. "Argent!" She called to her hound. "Turn it around!"

How the dog understood that command was beyond her, but Argent bounded around, getting the beast's attention and convincing it to turn it's back to Elissa. She dropped her dagger, gripping her longsword uncomfortably with two hands. There, she could see her mark: a fresh wound Argent had landed on the creature's thigh just a moment earlier. She targeted it in her mind, and charged, bringing the sword in a sweeping blow across the ogre's hamstring.

It roared, falling to one knee as blood gushed from the back of it's leg. It was hardly done for the count, but she had succeeded in forcing it to drop Alistair; he fell to the ground, moaning, but alive. Argent was taking advantage of the beast's newly weakened state, and leaped on it's back, digging his claws into it's flesh and gnawing at it's neck. Elissa doubled back and picked up her dagger, thrusting both weapons into it's side. It bellowed out in pain, staggering to it's feet in order to get away from Elissa's blades and almost trampling Alistair in the process. "Dammit!" She yelled in frustration. "Just die already!"

But it clearly had plenty of fight left in it. Now it was crouching down, lowering it's head like some sort of battering ram, and bullrushed her. The sheer force of it's weight threw her backwards several feet and she landed flat on her back, her weapons flying out of her hands from the blow. It stumbled towards her, capturing her legs in one hand and leaning on it so that she thought they might snap from the pressure. It leaned forward, bearing it's deadly teeth. In a moment it was going to take her head off and it would all be over. She had barely lasted a day.

"Oh no you don't!" Shouted Alistair, and suddenly he was looming over the half-bent ogre, driving his sword through it's neck. The creature shuddered as it died, crumpling in a bloody heap at Elissa's feet. She closed her eyes, offering a silent prayer to the Maker and doing her best to calm herself. There was a soft clattering noise; Alistair had collapsed, gasping for breath. One arm was wrapped around his midsection and he looked rather pale as Elissa scrambled to his side. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he panted. "Just get that beacon lit."

Elissa stood up shakily, snatching a torch off the wall as she crossed over to the small pile of pitch that was to be the signal beacon. "Hurry, Elissa," Alistair called out. "More darkspawn are coming. They're close." She threw the torch into the pitch, which caught suprisingly quickly; the beacon was lit, they had done their part. The rest was up to Loghain.

"Let's get out of here," Alistair said, trying to sit up with a groan. "The darkspawn are going to catch up with us if we don't, and I'm in no shape to fight."

The words were barely out of his mouth, when the door to the third floor crashed open and a group of darkspawn poured in. There wasn't enough time to react. Elissa hadn't even begun to reach for her weapons when the hurlock leading the pack drew back his bow string, firing an arrow into her chest. The pain was more than anything she'd ever known, and before she could react, two more struck her. She collapsed to her knees, tasting blood in her mouth. She only had enough time to register Alistair reaching weakly for his shield to cover himself, Argent fighting until his very last, and then she knew no more.

~~**~*~**~~

Many questions have been posed over the years regarding Elissa's magical backpack. Certainly, there were enough accounts of it while she was alive to prove it's existence, though few know how it works or if it is even possible to create such a bag. What we do know about it is this: it looked like an ordinary backpack to any outside viewer, though perhaps it was a little worse for the wear. However, it had been enchanted long ago to be able to hold many more things than a normal bag might. Elissa was often seen at a merchant's stand, pulling entire suits of armor out of the bag, not to mention weapons, rations, her bedroll, books, and other miscellaneous items.

But this was not the limit to the bag's power. According to the stories, it also had the ability to sense what item Elissa wanted when she reached into it and made sure that it was always at the top of the bag. For example, if in the heat of battle, she wanted to use a health poultice, all she need do is reach her hand inside her magic bag and there a poultice would be waiting for her. But if the next time she opened her bag, now to find her bedroll, it would be on top this time.

Myaja, one of Elissa's opponents in the Glory Proving, joked that no one could ever hope to defeat a challenger with such a boon on her side. With all of the curative potions, flasks of poison, bombs of acid, and other knicknacks in the bag right at her fingertips, Elissa needn't even be that skilled of a fighter to defeat her opponents.

As to where this magical bag came from, it is hard to say. Elissa was always known to have carried it, as if it had been apart of her, her whole life. Some speculate it was another trophy brought home by her father after the war. Others believe that she had bartered for it with one of the elven servants on the Cousland estate. Many have tried to replicate the magic of this so called extradimensional space, with no luck. And so it must remain another of those great mysteries about our heroine.

~~**~*~**~~

The first thing Elissa was aware of when she finally regained consciousness was the distinct lack of pain in her abdomen. Surely, getting shot three times would leave some sort feeling behind? Not that she was complaining of course, but it did make her wonder if she was alive or dead. Secondly, it occurred to her that she was naked. Well, perhaps not. But she was no longer wearing her armor, left only in her underclothes. And lastly, a voice somewhere to her left was saying, "Ah, awake at last. Mother shall be pleased."

"Morrigan?" Elissa asked warily, pushing herself into a sitting position. Indeed it was Morrigan, and they appeared to be inside what must be the cabin she shared with her mother out in the Wilds. "What happened?"

"You were injured," replied Morrigan simply. "And mother rescued you. Do you not remember?"

Elissa groaned, pressing a hand to her face, trying to think back. "I remember... we had just lit the beacon.... and then we were overwhelmed by darkspawn."

"Mother managed to save you and your friend, though 'twas a close call," replied Morrigan. What is important is that you both live."

"Of course, but..." Elissa looked around at the tiny shack to which she had been brought. "What about the battle? What happened at Ostagar?"

Morrigan sighed, a gesture which gave Elissa a strong sense of dread. "The man who was to respond to your signal... quit the field," she said bracingly. "The darkspawn won your battle, and those he abandoned were... massacred." She adopted what Elissa could only assume was the closest she could manage to a sympathetic expression. "Your friend... he is not taking it well."

Elissa dropped her head into both hands. They were all dead.... She had been late lighting the signal, but Loghain didn't even bother helping. He left them to die. How could he have done such a thing.... "This is... horrible."

"Of that, I have no doubt. Your friend has been inconsolable since Mother told him the news."

"Is he okay?" Elissa asked quietly. "I mean, he was already pretty badly wounded by the time the darkspawn found us."

Morrigan shrugged, "Physically, he is at the peak of his health, or so Mother tells me."

Elissa rolled off the bed, running a finger over the place where the first arrow had struck her. There wasn't even a scar. "Thank you, Morrigan," she said softly. "For saving us."

"I..." Morrigan replied, taken aback. "You are welcome, though Mother did all the work. I am no healer." She paused, looking rather awkward. "Your clothes are there in that trunk; Mother asked that you speak with her when you woke. I will remain inside and make something to eat." She turned her back on Elissa for privacy and began bustling about the fireplace.

When Elissa was dressed, she pushed open the door and stepped out into the sunlit forest. There she found Morrigan's mother attempting to console Alistair, though it did not seem to be going very well, until, "See? Here is your fellow Grey Warden. What did I tell you? You're not alone after all."

"Elissa!" Alistair exclaimed, moving to her and wrapping her up in a back-breaking hug. "Oh thank the Maker, you're alive! I thought you were dead for sure!"

Elissa stumbled back after he released her, rubbing her ribs. "I'm fine," she said, turning to Morrigan's mother. "I want to thank you for saving us."

"This doesn't seem real," Alistair was saying, his voice breaking slightly. "If it wasn't for her, we'd be dead on top of that tower."

"Do not talk about me as though I were not present, boy," said the old woman, crossly.

Alistair looked at her and sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it but... what do we call you? You've never given us your name...."

"Name's are pretty, but useless," she replied with a smirk. "The Chasind folk call me Flemeth. I suppose it will have to do."

"The Flemeth?" Alistair repeated incredulously. "From the legends?" He gaped at her for a moment. "Daveth was right. You're the Witch of the Wilds."

"And what does that mean," Flemeth asked, lifting her eyebrows. "I know a bit of magic, yes, and it has served you both well, has it not? After all, we can't have all the Grey Wardens dying at once! Someone has to deal with the darkspawn. It has always been the Grey Wardens' duty to unite the lands against the Blight. Or did that change when I wasn't looking?"

"But we were fighting the darkspawn," Alistair protested indignantly. "The king had nearly defeated them! Why would Loghain just abandon us like that?"

"Now that is a good question," replied Flemeth. "Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature. Perhaps he believes the Blight is an army he can outmaneuver. Perhaps he does not see that the evil behind it is the true threat."

Elissa sighed, rubbing her face tiredly. "But, what could the teyrn hope to gain by betraying the king? There were hundreds of soldiers waiting for him to give the command, and instead he tells them to retreat? He surely can't think he'll get away with this, with that many witnesses."

"Loyalty is a strange thing, girl," Flemeth replied. "What you might see as betrayal, all this man must do is say that it isn't true and his men will attest to it themselves."

"If Arl Eamon knew what happened, he would never stand for it!" Alistair said fiercely. "The Landsmeet would never stand for it! There would be civil war!"

Elissa hesitated, "Do you really think the arl would believe us over the teyrn."

Alistair considered this. "I... don't know. But the man practically raised me, he wouldn't just turn me away if I told him our side of the story! He's a good man. And he was Cailan's uncle! He wasn't at Ostagar, which means he still has all his men. We could go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for help!"

This sounded more like desperation than anything else, to Elissa, but Alistair was looking broken after the news of what happened to Duncan and the rest of the Wardens. She tried her best to hide her pessimism, "That sounds like an excellent idea, but... I doubt the Arl's men would be able to defeat the darkspawn by themselves. Surely there are other allies we could call on?"

"Of course!" Alistair exclaimed, clapping a hand to his forehead, which looked like it hurt - he was still wearing his metal gauntlets. "The treaties! Grey Wardens can demand aid from dwarves, elves, mages and other places! They're obligated to help us during a Blight!"

"I may be old," Flemeth said at this. "But dwarves, elves, mages, this Arl Eamon, and who knows what else... this sounds like an army to me."

"So can we do this?" Alistair asked with the glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Go to Redcliffe and these other places and build an army?"

Elissa stared at him. He was actually putting her in charge of this, even though he had seniority. She wanted to point out to him that he was the commander of Wardens now, and he could do what he wished, but then it occurred to her.... Alistair didn't want to lead. He needed direction, someone to lean on. He had just lost his entire family and had lived his entire life before coming to the Wardens as a slave to the Chantry. He had no idea what to do with himself. It was up to her now; he would be at her side, but he could not take control. He just wasn't strong enough. "Of course!" She replied to him at length, with more cheer in her tone than she felt. "Isn't that what Grey Wardens do?" She tried to take comfort in how much relief showed in Alistair's face.

"You are set then," said Flemeth, who was watching them curiously. "Ready to take up the mantle of Grey Wardens so that you may defeat the darkspawn and end the Blight?"

"I'd be happy with just staying alive," Elissa muttered.

Alistair smiled, "You know, come to think of it, that would be nice," he replied quietly.

Flemeth snorted, "Well you can't expect me to do everything for you? However... there is one last thing I can offer you." She turned back towards the house, calling for her daughter to come out, who appeared moments later. "The Grey Wardens will be leaving shortly, and you will be joining them."

"Oh that's such a sha -- " Morrigan froze. "What?"

"You heard me, girl. The last time I checked you had ears." Flemeth broke into a laugh while the other three exchanged looks. Elissa was confused, Alistair appeared suspicious, and Morrigan was glaring daggers at her mother.

"Ah, thank you, Flemeth," Elissa said uncertainly. "But if Morrigan does not wish to come with us then we're not going to force her."

"Her magic will be useful in your endeavour," Flemeth replied, no longer laughing. "Even better, she knows the Wilds and how to get past the horde." She turned to her daughter. "You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years. Here is your chance."

Morrigan opened and closed her mouth, as if trying to figure out the best way to argue. "This is not how I wanted this, though," she finally said lamely. "I'm not even ready...."

"Ah, but you must be ready. Alone, these two must unite Ferelden against the darkspawn. They need you, Morrigan. Without you, they will surely fail, and all will perish under the Blight. Even I."

"I... understand." Morrigan sighed and looked at Elissa, pointedly ignoring Alistair. "Allow me to collect my things, if you please." She turned and disappeared back inside the hut, where she made a great show of banging things about huffily.

Presently, Alistair moved closer, gripping Elissa's arm. "I don't like this," he muttered. "Flemeth may have saved our lives and all, but why do we have to take her with us just because her mother says so?"

Elissa frowned. "Calm down, Alistair," she replied just as quietly, keenly aware of Flemeth hovering nearby. "She hasn't given us a reason not to trust her, and besides, we need all the help we can get."

"I guess you're right," said Alistair, shrugging uncomfortably. "The Grey Wardens have always taken allies where they could find them."

"I'm so pleased to have your approval," came Morrigan's voice from behind them. Her hearing was good. She was now fixating her icy glare on Alistair, though she addressed Elissa when she said, "I am at your disposal, Grey Warden. I suggest a village north of the Wilds as our first destination. 'Tis not far and you will find much you need there. Or if you prefer, I shall simply be your silent guide. The choice is yours."

Elissa groaned and covered her face with her hand. She wasn't sure she liked being in charge very much. "Let's just get a move on, shall we?"