Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age
The introduction of Flemeth, the recounting of the battle of Denerim and Hawke's service to the Red Iron mercenary. In the flashback to Denerim Daylen is wearing armour similar to the kind worn by the character on the front cover of Dragon Age Origins and in the sacred ashes trailer, Leliana is also wearing her armour from that same trailer.
Hope everyone enjoys the chapter
Rise of the Hawkes: Reunion
Chapter 3: The hero of Ferelden
"I'm telling you Varric, something was off about that woman, but there wasn't a lot I could do in that situation. If I tried anything my family and I never would have gotten to Kirkwall, I wouldn't be helping your brother."
Varric Tethras considered himself to be a good storyteller. There was a certain power in stories that couldn't be denied. That's all that history was, a story passed down from one person to another and if told the right way could be forged into a tale, a legend that all men and women in Thedas know of. The dwarf sat in his usual place, the only place in Kirkwall someone could get a drink other than the brothel. The hanged man had been part of Lowtown since the city was freed from the Imperium. Kirkwall had three major sections, Hightown where the nobility ruled the city with the Chantry and the Viscount's grand keep, Lowtown, the system of concrete buildings around the cargo port and warehouses where the peasants lived and Darktown, what could best be described as the sewers where the lowest class of Kirkwall's citizens lived. When the refugees poured in from Ferelden many had spent most of their coin just to get through the gates. Those who couldn't pay were sent back to Ferelden, many out of hopeless desperation gave all they had to get into the city. The only place they could stay was Darktown. Once word came back that the Darkspawn had been defeated many Fereldan's felt that they had made the wrong choice in going to Kirkwall.
"There was no other choice really," Varric's favourite business and drinking partner continued her tale of how she came to the city of chains.
Marian would never forget the face of the shape shifter. She wondered if it was her true face, or whether it was yet another disguise she used.
"It used to be that we never got visitors in the wild, now they arrive in droves," she said.
"Neat trick, turning into a dragon," of course Marian hid her fear with bravado.
"Perhaps I am a dragon, be thankful that the stench of smoking darkspawn does little for the appetite," the witch said. "If you are looking to flee the darkspawn then you should know you are going the wrong way, only the south can offer safe passage."
"The wilds are to the south," Carver said.
"We don't have enough food for camping in the wilds," Bethany noted.
"Wesley wont make it that far either," Aveline said.
"If you must, leave me behind."
"No, I swore that I would drag you out of here if need be and I will."
Varric watched as Marian tilted the contents of her cup down her throat.
"Looking at Aveline and her husband, I could tell he wasn't going to make it, he had the taint, the darkspawn corruption. That witch looked at them to and then at me and I think she knew too, I think she knew that I knew," she explained.
"She knew you knew she knew," the dwarf said in good humour.
But much to Varric's shock Marian's face was devoid of humour. Ever since she arrived in Kirkwall, Marian had formed a reputation for her quick wit and skill with the bow. Her quick wit had gotten her out of sticky situations without having to knock an arrow and made her a few friends in Dark and Low town. But when she was serious, when nothing amused her, when she had cleared her mind of all sympathy and guilt her arrows could fly truer than even the finest marksmen of the city guard. Her reputation and the very life of her family was under threat because of her aim, though some would probably debate it as her sense of honour as well.
'Lets settle one story first,' Varric thought as he focused on Hawke.
Many called her Hawke as opposed to Marian. She was the leader of the trio she and her siblings formed, the Hawkes. Marian's journey to Kirkwall had not gone easy. The witch whom had rescued her family lingered over them. Marian tried to dismiss her by saying they could get to Gwaren on their own, it was both an attempt to lure her away and draw her in. She knew the shape shifter was bad news but she also knew that her curiosity hadn't been sated by the sight of someone killing an ogre as she claimed.
"I can get you to Gwaren," the witch said.
"What's the catch?" Marian asked.
"There is always a catch, life is a catch, I suggest you catch it while you can."
"I don't know about this Marian," Bethany whispered to her sister.
"We don't even know what she is," Carver muttered.
"I know what she is, or rather who, Flemeth, witch of the wilds," Aveline said.
"That is what some call me, others Asha'Bellanar, or an old hag who talks too much," that last part made the witch smile.
Marian had scared her siblings with tales of Flemeth. How Flemeth was lurking within the wilds, waiting to drag exploring children away to boil in a pot. Even when Carver got older Marian would annoy him with stories about attractive wild women, daughters of Flemeth waiting to tire young virgins out with sex, for their mother to use in torturous rituals before eating them. Looking upon Flemeth face to face, mere feet from being able to touch, Marian began understanding the measure of truth many legends had.
"That'll be what I remember you as if you cant deliver on your claims," Marian said defiantly.
Flemeth rolled her head back and laughed. It was a laugh of genuine amusement but it disturbed Marian's family.
"You I like, so much like another I've recently met," Flemeth hummed, looking at Marian curiously. "I wonder," she muttered as she stroked her chin.
She produced from her robe an amulet, the markings of which Marian ignorantly guessed to be elvhan. Flemeth walked towards Marian and placed the amulet in her hand.
"I will take you as far as Gwaren, but you must stay in Kirkwall for a year at least, before you decide to leave or pursue your own interests in the city you must go to the bottom of Sundermount, to a dalish camp and give this amulet to their keeper Marethari. Do whatever she commands you to do with the trinket and any debt between us will be paid in full, give me your answer quickly girl, I have a schedule to keep," Flemeth smiled darkly as Marian looked at the amulet.
Marian looked at the members of her family. They all looked to her for an answer. The situation was so glum that they had stopped debating; the choice was hers as was the consequences. She sighed as she pocketed the amulet and looked at Flemeth.
"I'd have to get to Kirkwall first," she said.
"And get there you shall, but first there is another issue," Flemeth said as she turned to Aveline and Wesley.
"No, you leave him alone," Aveline said.
She grabbed her sword, not even hesitating as the flicker of sympathy crossed the witch's face.
"What has been done to your man is within his blood already," she said.
"No, you lie!"
"Aveline," Wesley called out to his wife, trying to grab her hand.
Aveline turned and both Flemeth and Marian walked up beside her.
"Its too late, I can feel the corruption inside of me," Wesley said.
"The darkspawn taint," Marian said.
"The only way to cure it that I know of is to become a grey warden," Flemeth said.
"And they all died at Ostagar," Carver sighed.
"No, two survivors passed through Lothering," Bethany said.
"But they are still beyond your reach," Flemeth said.
Aveline knelt by her husband, touching the sides of his face. Wesley looked at the taller woman with the love and affection he had been putting into their marriage for years. Marian saw the hurt expression across Aveline's face. On their first meeting Marian saw the ginger haired woman as a strong warrior, fitting for her name. But looking at her with her dying husband she saw the kind of woman she truly was. A woman whom had found love and happiness with a single man, but was going to lose that love.
"Please Aveline, the taint is a painful death I cant…" Wesley coughed out spots of blood, looking at Aveline for mercy.
'Should I do it for her?' Marian wondered, but then lowered her head.
She had no right to kill Aveline's husband. Marian placed her hand on Aveline's shoulder.
"None but you can decide his fate Aveline," she said.
Aveline nodded her head and grabbed Wesley's hand. He withdrew a dagger from his belt and placed it on his chest, near his heart. The woman adjusted the position of the blade, so it would better slide through his armour. She touched his cheek affectionately and placed her hand on the pommel of the dagger.
"Be strong my love," Wesley said.
To her credit Aveline didn't close her eyes, even as Wesley yelled out in pain. When his head fell she closer his eyes and kissed his forehead. Marian turned away from Aveline, trying not to give sympathy when she knew Aveline wouldn't appreciate it. Flemeth walked up behind Aveline, as if approving of what she had done. The witch seemed to have sympathy for the woman, perhaps indicating that there was something to the stories told of Flemeth's love when she was human. No words were really spoken, in fact Marian couldn't recall any conversation she had with Aveline, her family or even Flemeth as the shape shifter took them to the woods near Gwaren. Once there they put their coin together to pay for a ship to Kirkwall, there was nothing left for Aveline in Ferelden.
"I don't know what really bought me here, I wasn't scared of the Blight, and as much as an ass as Carver seems I know he can protect mother and Bethany. It was only really mother who wanted to go, though don't tell her that…in fact Varric don't talk to my mother ever," Marian said to the dwarf.
"I'm quite sure your mother would enjoy my company Hawke," Varric said.
"Not if you tell those embellished stories about my time in the Red Iron," Hawke growled.
"Ah, how you epically fired an arrow into Meeran's hand when he threatened Bethany," the dwarf grinned before drinking.
"It wasn't epic it was a stupid decision, I had just rejected his order to kill Lord Harimann, I saw him talking with Bethany and I assumed he was threatening her," Hawke explained.
"How did you end up working for the Red Iron anyway?" Varric asked.
Marian took another shot before delving into what happened after the two-week sail to Kirkwall had ended. Upon reaching Kirkwall the Hawke family plus Aveline found hordes of Fereldans begging to enter the city. Marian managed to speak with the guard captain and dropped her uncle Gamlen's name. Her grandparents inconveniently died when Carver and Bethany had been born, leaving only Leandra's younger brother Gamlen to claim the estate. Even though Gamlen never wrote to them they all assumed he was still a noble living in high town.
"HA! Gamlen a noble, I tell you he looks like he was born to live in low town," Varric chuckled.
Hawke shot the dwarf a look to silence his amusement. She continued on, not needing to tell him of her uncle's reputation as a weasel and a cheat. He still loved the family enough to give the family a way into Kirkwall and a place to stay. Gamlen had incurred a debt with the local mercenary group, the Red Iron. They were generally tolerated as they tended to stay out of politics, even aiding the high town nobility at times. Their leader Meeran was a vulgar man, Gamlen had said he was the typical sell sword but fair to a degree and when he heard about the talents of the siblings (especially Bethany) he was eager to recruit them as indentured servants. Part of their servitude involved working off the debt for a year.
"We did well enough, but as we got closer and closer to the end of the year, Meeran's ambitions got more and more dangerous, you know that murderer whom had escaped from the city guard?" Marian asked.
"Yeah, he killed elf children, a sick bastard too," Varric shuddered, though he had seen and done his fair share of bloody things there were certain perversions that disgusted him.
"He had been chased down to a cave, a cave known for giant spiders. The magistrate wanted him bought in alive but the guard captain at the time Ewald wasn't willing to risk his men to chase after someone who should have been executed years ago. Meeran got Carver, Bethany, myself and a few others to go after the murderer, when we got there Aveline offered to help but not before an elf merchant showed up, 'he took my daughter into those caves and killed her,' he looked so certain, so angry but also desperate. Elves can earn gold and gain reputation but in most cases they are always only ever seen as second-class citizens, it's a problem across all of Thedas. The other guards kept on reminding us of Magistrate Vanard's orders, I went on through without really knowing what I was going to do. Once we finished with the spiders and traps we found the elf's daughter, she was a little bruised but otherwise unharmed…I suppose she was delusional in a way."
"How so?" Varric asked.
Marian lowered her head to her drink as she spoke.
"She told us not to hurt him, that it wasn't his fault, demon's made him do it. Bethany was a little scared, Carver was sceptical and I kept as open a mind as I could, as did Aveline. I sent Bethany back with the girl and we advanced onwards, spiders and Undead came down from the ceiling or up from the ground respectively and attacked us, killing Meeran's men and leaving only myself, Carver and Aveline. We found the murderer, Kelder, sitting by a pillar, he had this contemplative look in his eyes and I could tell he had been crying. I did what my father taught me to do, listen to his story," Hawke sighed and leant back on her chair, playing with the bangs of her hair.
"Was it a good one?" the dwarf asked as he drank.
"He said that demons speak in his head, whispering commands, demanding that he take the lives of pure and beautiful elf girls. Kelder said that his father had taken him the circle, that the circle lied about him being possessed by demons…it was utter bullshit of course, the circle for all its faults wouldn't have lied about something so serious, he was no mage, just a sad and sick minded man protected by his father," Hawke continued, slamming her cup into the table after she had finished her drink.
"The Magistrate," Varric guessed whom Kelder's father was immediately.
"Exactly, the bastard used his power to protect that murderer, to keep him from hanging, some might say there is something to be admired about his actions, not me however, I hated him for it and when Kelder asked me, no begged me to kill him I obliged. I stabbed him the chest first and then sliced open his throat for good measure, I stayed until his body stopped twitching, then I threw the body into a spider's web and watched the monsters eat what was left," Hawke explained.
"That must have disconcerted Carver and Aveline."
"Aveline more so than Carver, do you want to know the funny thing Varric, it disturbed me too, I emptied my stomach and after I told everyone outside that I witnessed Kelder being ripped apart by monsters I actually felt sick again, but it was different, not so much guilt over him dying but over how I did it, I had so much malice and hatred in my eyes…its only now that I actually feel sorry for him, so sad, what happened in his life to make him that way, the Chantry says we should fear the demons of the fade but what about the demons of our own making?"
"That's pretty much what I've been thinking ever since I was old enough to witness death, what happened next?" Varric asked.
"We reported to the Magistrate that his son was dead, I was so angry at the time that I actually revealed everything that I knew, right to his face," Marian said.
"For a lady you've got balls Hawke, no wonder Meeran's been here talking about how he'll get even with that 'self righteous bitch and her fucking dumb shit brother and cunt sister'," Varric tried keeping a straight face but ended up smirking.
"He always has had a way with words, I think that's what my brother liked about him, first man we killed for him he said 'good job, let the crows eat him up and shit him into the ocean'," Marian laughed.
"And here we are, your debt paid, a few enemies made, a reputation formed…Hawke, champion of the needy," Varric raised his cup and smirked.
"Very funny Varric, that reputation didn't help me when I went to your brother, that was a waste of time," Hawke sighed.
"Ah don't give up just yet, the deeproads after a blight, so little darkspawn and so much undiscovered treasure to discover, what woman and her family in need of coin and status can resist such an opportunity?" Varric asked with a glint of suggestion in his eyes.
"What are you suggesting that I make my own expedition? That would piss your brother off."
"As much as I would like to see Bartrand's face when that happens I'm afraid I couldn't condone you going off on your own. You've got experience with darkspawn, you have a decent enough reputation and you have a serious investment in the success of an expedition. My brother and I don't need more hirelings, we need a partner, someone to invest in the expedition with us and secure certain items that will insure not just our own survival in the deeproads, but our success is finding something of value," Varric explained.
"You're suggesting me?" Marian asked and Varric nodded. "I wouldn't be asking Bartrand for a job if I didn't need the coin," she said.
"There are opportunities everywhere to make coin, you just need to know where to look and lucky for you I know where to look. I've got contacts throughout the city, hell I've got contacts outside of the city as far as Ferelden," the dwarf chuckled.
"Did you ever hear anything about the blight? Anything specific like the activities of the grey warden?" Marian asked.
Varric leant back in his chair and bought his fingers together.
"I had a few contacts in the Orzammar military and in Denerim, they saw things," Varric said as he reached behind his chair and withdrew a book.
He slid the book across the table to Marian's hands. She flipped open a few pages before coming across a drawing.
"The art was done by a young man in Redcliffe who had a talent for art and song, although the unrated version really captured the assets of the warden's female companions," Varric grinned.
"I've really got no interest in pictures," Hawke said.
"Not even to know what your cousin looked like?" the dwarf asked.
Hawke raised her eyebrows in confusion before she realised that it wasn't all that strange that Varric would know of her connection to the hero of Ferelden. A month after news of the darkspawn defeat Leandra told her children about their family. The Amells had always had magic in their blood, Aristide's intention had been to marry off Leandra to a line that had very little magic in it, his belief was that the joining of the Amell and DeLauncets would dilute the magic just enough to leave an age of magic out of the Amell family. Fausten of course disagreed and Leandra often told her children of her uncle's theory that magic would always be a part of the Amell family. This was especially apparent in the eldest son of her cousin Revka.
"A tall man, brown haired with red eyes, apparently a result of consorting with demons at the age of three, or was he four? Anyway people commonly believed he was the image of an Amell, dark haired and blue eyes, but apparently he isn't right?" Varric asked.
"My mother was with me when she left Kirkwall, which was round about the same time Daylen was sent to the Ferelden circle. Bethany was shocked to learn that the hero was one of ours, she once told me that she could have been the hero of Ferelden," Marian explained.
Marian kept the detail to herself but she knew that Bethany's interest in Daylen had been more than just the admiration of a warden. She knew that that interesting man she saw briefly at Ostagar, and whom had passed through Lothering had been her sister's first great attraction.
"This doesn't have any of your usual embellishments in it does it?" she asked as she turned the pages of the book.
"I was using that as a guideline for my version of the warden's tale, mine involves an encounter with a Rivaini captain in a bar, a red haired Orlesian and an Antivan elf all pining over our young protagonist, but then they decide to share…"
"Please don't put that image in my head," Marian shivered.
"You have no sense for entertainment Hawke, your second cousin is the desire of most women in Thedas, save for templars…scratch that, certain templars probably have dreams about it. Anyway I borrowed that book off of a friend in Denerim, someone your cousin actually saved, he had spoken with elves in the alienage and the surviving guards at the gates and put this book together alongside the artist. Keep it if you'd like Hawke, consider it a gift to signify our partnership," Varric grinned.
Hawke raised her eyebrows, causing the dwarf to hastily raise his hands.
"Not that kind of partnership," he said.
"Always up to something aren't you Varric?" Hawke asked.
"Its part of the job of a professional younger brother, I need to think ahead of my brother, I need to keep things moving while he takes credit for both the good and the bad. Making coin is easy enough if you know who to approach Hawke, I know who to approach and don't forget you've got some friends yourself…so what do you say Hawke, partners?" Varric extended his hand, smiling at the elder Hawke.
Marian grinned as she took the dwarf's hand. They shook hands and at the same time finished their drinks. If there was anyone in Kirkwall Marian trusted not to stab her in the back it was Varric Tethras. The dwarf storyteller was popular but also respectable. As a surface dwarf from birth he wasn't trapped by the usual dwarven superstitions and traditions. His faith was a mix between that of the common dwarven tradition of worshipping your ancestors and the human (and some elves) belief in the chant of light, though he wasn't a devote follower. But above his faith was his morality, he wouldn't betray a partner and he'd stand by his friends and even respect his rivals enough to not attack them.
"Tell me, if there was one word all of your contacts and friends used to describe cousin Daylen what was it?" Hawke asked.
Varric put a hand to his chin, thinking about what his contacts in Ferelden all said concerning the hero.
"Hope, that's what they describe him as, the hope that brings light when all seems lost," he said.
"Why Varric, you ought to try your hand at writing a serious story and not your 'friend fictions', you'd never know, you writing a legend would be…awesome," Marian grinned.
"That's given me an idea Hawke, go and tell your family the good news," Varric said.
Marian nodded her head before placing the book in her satchel. Walking out into the streets of Lowtown Marian felt the eyes of men and some women on her. Some possibly looked for the obvious reason, her reputation as a do gooder, others because of her looks and some because they intimidated by her. Her daggers were strapped to the back of her green-layered tunic, the only thing other than coin she kept from her days in the mercenary company. She walked into neighbourhood Gamlen's home was located in. The hovels were built sturdy, but they were not the cleanest places in all of Kirkwall. It was still a home though and Marian would not wish for any place that didn't have her family, even uncle Gamlen in it. She stepped into the house and smiled at the sight that befell her. Bethany was helping mother prepare dinner and Gamlen was preparing the table. Stew and wooden cups was the best they could do, but at least they had each other. Marian hugged her mother before going to the room she and her siblings shared. Carver was standing in the middle of the room, shirtless and swinging a wooden club like a blade.
"Always practicing I see, maybe if you looked for a job you could put some of that skill to use," Marian said.
"I don't need employment advice from someone who has to resort to working with a slippery bastard like Bartrand," Carver retorted.
"How is your search for another job going?" Marian grinned as her brother shot a glare at her.
"I'm not saying I need to rely on you, but I could use a little help, this expedition is for all of us right, so we should all have a chance to profit from it," he explained.
"We wont be profiting from anything in a while Carver, its time we started saving our coin up, investing in the deep roads expedition," Marian explained.
"What did you do Marian?" Bethany asked as she dumped a pile of carrots into the stew pot.
"I'm a partner in the first expedition of Kirkwall into the deep roads. Tomorrow Varric and I will be discussing ways to raise money for the expedition and possible guards we could recruit, because the muscle Bartrand has been thinking about wont cut it in the deep roads," Marian continued despite Carver's disapproving look.
"You're serious, a partner, and how much exactly are we supposed to raise for this expedition?" the young man asked.
"Fifty sovereigns and before you say anything think about it, the deep roads are practically another world, a world filled with treasure waiting to be discovered," Marian said.
"They're also dangerous," Leandra said.
"Our family has practically thrived on danger mother," Marian grinned.
"No, do not use your cousin's success as an excuse to seek out danger, its fool hardy and disrespectful," the former Amell heir preached to her children.
Marian lowered her head slightly, even Carver felt sorry. Though he didn't show it, Carver had respect for his cousin as well; he just didn't want to come off as a worshipper as his twin often did.
"It would be disrespect not to put our best effort forward mother, I saw cousin at Lothering mother, he had every reason to play it safe and just leave Lothering but he stayed just long enough to help the refugees willing to run escape, he helped everyone at the chantry and even gave away his own herbs and equipment to people who needed it," Bethany explained.
"And he still succeeded in saving Denerim, or at least a very large portion of it," Marian said. "All whilst wielding an elf blade, a warden shield and plate armour," she grinned as her siblings looked at her in confusion. "Read it in a book," she showed them the said book and smiled as Bethany's eyes lit up.
Bethany had been collecting many post blight books, her collection included 'The Far Cliffs of Kirkwall', 'Lothering's Lament' and 'Of Things not Lost', she had been saving coin to buy Genitivi's published diary of his experience searching for the earn of sacred ashes. She took the book from her sister and opened it to the artists depiction of Daylen, the black image showed a young man standing atop a hill, dressed in plate armour with the only colour being the blood on his shoulder pad and chest and the blood across his face. The armour Daylen had worn was very close to what true grey warden's wore, save for the fact that it didn't include the blue and white tunic underneath it. It was lighter than the full plate armour Loghain wore. Daylen had been drawn with a broad sword, but according to many accounts the warden had carried a shorter, curved sword of elven design, a sword named spell weaver.
"The battle of Denerim, the moment our cousin's name would be remembered throughout Thedas," Bethany said.
"Don't over dramatise, Kirkwall didn't give a shit about the blight, it ended so quickly that people thought it was a hoax," Gamlen huffed.
It wasn't a case of Gamlen not feeling proud of what his cousin's son had achieved, rather it was the anger he felt every time he went into the hanged man. There were some people in Kirkwall whom didn't know the name of the hero of Ferelden, or what family he originated from. Many just didn't care to know, some believed that there in fact had never been a blight, others believed that the warden, whatever his name was had simply been a mage redeeming himself for the sin of magic creating the darkspawn (if the chantry's account of their origins was to be believed).
"Ha, those ignorant pigs and pompous nobles cant all say that they have relative who was a genuine hero," Carver said.
"Read it Marian," Bethany offered her the book back.
"No Bethany you should read it," Marian said.
Bethany looked at the book and smiled before opening it. She felt that in a way she could not only hear of her cousin's exploits but speak of them to others. One exploit in particular would be told from the words of men and women whom had watched him fight that dark but glorious day at Denerim. The tale rolled smoothly off of Bethany's tongue as she recounted the battle that signalled the end of the fifth blight.
What had once been a grand city had become a funeral pyre, a pyre for the old kingdom. If there was one thing that died first that day it was our hope. Before they arrived we could only imagine the terror the army at Ostagar must have felt, seeing the monsters marching from the woods. They had come from the direction of Redcliffe, in formation like an organised army and but there was no general leading from the front or the back ranks. The general of the darkspawn flew down from the skies, swooping through the streets of Denerim, setting houses ablaze with his breath. Though there was a garrison of royal troops, these were men that hadn't seen combat in years, men whom expected to never have to fight for the gates of Denerim were strong. But not even stern iron could hold against a family of ogres. They smashed through the gates and stomped through the initial defenders. Then the spawn flooded into the city, overwhelming the home troops. There was only one way in or out of Denerim and the darkspawn took complete control within the first wave and like predators they scattered, looking for prey, smashing down doors, dragging peasants and nobles alike out onto the streets. But they did not immediately execute or butcher the people where they stood. It was as if they were waiting for their victims to give up their hope completely. Hope is a tenacious feeling though, it can be taken away easily and it takes much to bring it back.
Hope for us came from the cry of the guard on the wall. Defending himself from darkspawn archers he looked upon the direction of Redcliffe and before succumbing to an arrow bellowed one final call of hope to the surviving soldiers.
"THE WARDENS!" he yelled.
His yell echoed through our ears as a grand mass stampeded towards the city. Men at the gates, helpless under the blades of the darkspawn had a final moment of comfort, the sight of the grand army the warden had gathered running towards the gate was enough to bring smiles to some men before they died. The darkspawn however must have felt fear, they must have for what entered the city would have been enough to scare any creature of the old ways. It was once said that the only unity seen of the people of Thedas was that of the darkspawn, creatures born from women of many races united under a single dark goal. But one man had bought together an army the likes of which had not been seen in Thedas for an age. An army of men, knights from across the lands of Ferelden, of dwarves united under the banner of a new king in Orzammar, Dalish elves, clad in light armour and arrows flying from their bows and mages freed from the circle for one service to the land and the maker.
At the front of this grand army could be seen one man and his many followers. If you were lucky enough you would catch sight of his blade, slicing through darkspawn like lightning, surrounded by flame and the light of the wielders own spirit. His spirit was so strong that it seemed to enhance the weapons of all those whom followed him. Like a mage he empowered those behind him and like a warrior he crashed through dawkspawn, smashing their faces with the shield and cleaving through them with the sword. He and the hero of River Dane Loghain Mac Tir moved like one, defending against attacks and cutting down one darkspawn after another. Their troops cut and smashed darkspawn to the ground, nailed them with arrows or burnt them with magic. The warden hero threw his shield and it span, turning into a disc shaped blade that sliced through the head of an ogre. When the ogre fell a cheer erupted from the army and the hero raised his sword.
"MOVE THROUGH THE STREETS! DRIVE THEM TO FORT DRAKON!" he roared as his armour shined and his body took on a ghostly appearance as if nothing in the world could harm him.
With a swing of his sword the army moved, smashing into the darkspawn line. Following the orders of the man whom bought them together, Daylen Amell. Balls of fire flew across the streets, lightning rushed through the darkspawn. The mages of the circle empowered the weapons of the warriors with all manner of elements; even arrows were enchanted by fire and ice. They were natural crowd dispersers but also healers, for every four men wounded on the field one mage would be all it took to heal them just enough for them to continue fighting. There was no greater healer than Wynne, whom seemed to generate healing magic, around her the men seemed to be able to take even the most vicious of cuts and still fight on. Whilst Wynne bought them peace, a red headed dwarf made a bloody mess of the field. Though small, Oghren was like a boulder rolling down hill, beheading one darkspawn and cutting through their flesh one at a time. Loghain too fought well alongside an Orlesian woman of all people. She was bound in armour worn over a black tunic, stabbing Darkspawn with twin daggers as Loghain split heads open with the sword of his friend and our old king Maric. Daylen moved like lightning, his sword passing through his enemies as easily as his ghostly form. Soldiers would later bellow tales in the bars of how the warden blocked a hurlock's axe with his gauntlet, showing that though the ghostly form of an arcane warrior was not invulnerable he would not fear the enemy blades. He didn't really need the protection of a shield, not only did he move faster with just a single sword, but he had protection in the form of two friends and a very faithful Mabari. One was an elf and the other of all things was a Qunari. As if representing both the strength and culture of his people the Qunari giant painted his face white and red and smashed through the monsters with a ferocity and strength that outmatched them. His war hammer broke apart armour and bone alike. The elf had a more subtle form of fighting, stabbing through the gaps in armour with a knife and slashing throats with an axe, the blonde haired elf was still as devoted to Daylen's protection as the Mabari that pounced on any darkspawn that approached his master. Daylen sliced the legs off of a genlock and then stabbed its head with his sword.
That's when the moment came, the moment when Daylen sent orders to his troops, splitting them into groups, groups compromised of members of all three armies equally moving through Denerim towards fort Drakon, whilst another, bolstered by Daylen's own companions would protect the gate. He removed his helmet, revealing a young man's face, but his eyes, one would say they were corrupted by magic and others would say that it was war. War had aged those eyes, forcing more strength and sorrow into them. Blood dripped from his hair; it had stained his face but not his soul. There was a certainty in his eyes that slowly grew as he bid farewell to each of his companions, even the companions whom would join him in his march through Denerim. Only those whom spoke know what was said, only those whom spoke knew it was a goodbye.
His goal was set, not for Drakon but another place that needed him. The alienage was barely holding, the gates were mere wood, incapable of standing up to the fists of an ogre. Fear gripped the elves that day, even the courageous leader awakened that day. Shianni determination was only matched by her dedication to her people. Hope was relit by Daylen's arrival, Shianni begged for help but she didn't have to.
"Converge at the gate," he told the knights, "Assist the wounded, get the children and those incapable of fighting towards the back of the hospice, it's a defendable position. I need you to fight with me," he gave orders like a born leader and Shianni looked at the man in confusion.
It had not been the first time he had helped them without want of reward.
"Whatever this place represents to your people and mine, know that it is your home, your home…fight for it, stay by your houses, and shoot down anything that breaks through our lines," the passion and courage in the mages voice was enough persuade Shianni.
Those capable of fighting took up the bow, or the spear and they set themselves down like rocks, ready to defend their homes or die trying. Daylen however took up position with the troops and readied themselves at the gates. He sheathed his sword and took up his staff and stepped up towards the marksman's platform beside the gate. Many recounted how the hero tilted a vial down his throat, a lyrium potion. As soon as the glass shattered against the floor mana surrounded the warden. He crossed his arms together, gripping his staff and shaping the magic to fit his choice of attack and with a thrust of his arm he sent the magic into the air, just as the darkspawn began their approach towards the gate. A blizzard hit the darkspawn wave, freezing some in place, once the blizzard passed the elves let loose a volley of arrows. The ogre shrugged off the arrows and dived through the gate, squashing several soldiers beneath him. Panic nearly consumed the soldiers, but Daylen rushed towards the darkspawn and that simple act of bravery pushed the troops harder than any order could.
"HELP THE WARDEN!" Loghain's order spoke of his faith in the hero.
He rushed in front of Daylen, snapping the darkspawn spears with his shield and with a single swing he slashed the throats of the three Hurlock vanguards. Loghain then grabbed Daylen's shoulder and pushed him to the ground.
"FIRE!" the former lord yelled.
The arrows flew over the two wardens heads, striking the darkspawn in front of them. Daylen rose and looked back at the alienage. Shianni moved through the crowds and looked to the warden. Any other commander would have left the alienage to fend for itself. But because of Daylen not only were Shianni's people safe but also protected. Battle changes a person; some are changed for the worst, others for the best. There was no hatred between any person on the battlefield, they were united through shared grief and shared purpose, to protect their way of life. Shianni looked at the warden and smiled, whispering a thank you. She would not forget his kindness.
"We must move towards Drakon, Riordan said that he would drive the archdemon to the fort," Daylen said.
Wynn, Leliana and Loghain followed him with the army falling slightly behind. They ran across the bridge just the Archdemon swooped downwards, launching fire at the bridge. The four rushed through the gate with only a small number of men, those whom fell behind were either burned or blocked by the wall of fire the archdemon made. They could only watch as the hero and his companions ran on the path towards fort Drakon.
"The night seemed eternal, fighting continued across Denerim. Defeat never occurred to the warriors for they had already gained a considerable advantage over the darkspawn," Bethany continued to read as her family watched and listened.
Even Gamlen and Carver sat at their chairs, eagerly awaiting the next part of the story.
"News reached the streets, the warden and his companions had reached Fort Drakon. Occasionally soldiers could look up to the spire and see the purple flames of the Archdemon gushing across the sky. The brave grey warden Riordan had given his life to ground the dragon on the fort; all that was left was for the warden and his companions to fight on. Many soldiers had gone into the fort but none came out, save for remarkably a dwarf boy. The warden and his companions however, one could imagine the struggle the warden had to go through. The cry of victory came when a great light shined from the tower, an explosion of energy cleared the clouds and the darkspawn were overcome by something none thought they were capable of feeling, fear. They ran, the rest of the world was nothing to them; they just had to get away from the city. Many soldiers pursued, but most gathered at Drakon. They waited and waited until finally two of the hero's companions emerged. Leliana the bard and Wynn the mage, what they said made the army erupt with cheers."
"The hero was victorious, the archdemon is dead," both Carver and Marian said.
"What ever happened to me reading it?" Bethany asked.
"I didn't realise Carver had read it already, I knew you admired our cousin brother," Marian grinned as Carver turned his head away.
"Loghain died and Daylen went onto serve as chancellor for a time before ruling over Amaranthine, such success within a mere year of his life," Leandra smiled, thinking of how proud Revka and her uncle would be of Daylen.
"But it makes you wonder," Marian mused.
"Wonder what sister?" Carver asked.
"How did cousin defeat the demon and what exactly happened to Loghain?"
The Hawke siblings thought about their cousin and the struggle he had gone through. All three of them wanted to know what had driven him through the hell of war. For Carver and Marian it was particularly difficult, they felt like cowards in comparison to their cousin. They ran from Ostagar, they ran from Loghain's men and the darkspawn but their cousin never ran, he kept on fighting even though he was outnumbered. Marian wondered if she could do what her cousin could do, gather allies and influence to fulfil a goal. The twins also wondered if they could ever match the courage and heroism of their cousin Daylen Amell. A flash suddenly broke the family from their thoughts and water began to leak into the house.
"Blasted rain," Gamlen growled as he grabbed a nearby bucket.
"A storm is coming," Marian muttered.
"You speak as if its to be feared, don't tell me you believe the superstitions sister," Carver chuckled.
"Of course not, I mean Thedas has faced the fifth blight, I doubt the darkspawn will have recovered enough to begin another one. What could come that would be worse than a blight?"
Despite her sister's smile, Bethany felt uneasy. Father always told her that there were worse things than darkspawn and despite what all others said a part of Bethany felt he was right. If there was something worse than a blight then it would surely be the end of the world as people knew it. A storm was indeed brewing.
Next chapter 4: Through the storm
There will be more flashbacks throughout the story, both to Daylen's past and the past of the Hawkes. Next time we return to Daylen on the sea as his ship is swept into the storm by mysterious attackers. Daylen's fifth companion is also revealed.