Chapter 7: The Aftermath
AN: Fair warning: This one's a doorstopper, so be prepared.
9:39 Dragon
City of Amaranthine
Cassandra looked at Mirevas with uncharacteristic sympathy.
"I am... so sorry. I have seen death and destruction. It is part of the life people like you and I live. But this..."
Mirevas scowled.
"You can't even begin to imagine. We had fought to the top of the tower. I was bleeding, battered, and could barely even stand. I didn't know if I would even survive. Then Alistair lit the beacon, and for one glorious moment, I felt hope surge through me. Then Loghain took that hope, ground it under his heel, and pissed on it."
His face turned from anger to sorrow.
"Then Duncan, the man who had saved my life and treated me like a person, was cut down. And the king, naïve as he was, before him. When the darkspawn came up the tower, I probably wouldn't have fought even if I could."
"What happened? How did you escape?"
"I didn't escape," he said.
"Then... what happened?"
"I didn't make it, obviously," he retorted, with a completely sincere voice.
"I am not a fool, Commander."
He smiled a bit at that. She had addressed him by his rank for the first time. A sign of respect, perhaps?
"I was just trying to relieve the tension a bit," he sighed. "Let's see, where does the story pick up...?"
9:30 Dragon
Uncharted territories, the Korcari Wilds
I woke up staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. The all-too-familiar smell of the Wilds greeted my nostrils. I blinked a few times, then examined myself. My bare chest was still black-and-blue with bruises and I could see several bandaged wounds, including the slash I had received from a genlock and multiple arrow entry wounds. Thankfully, the pain had subsided to a dull ache. As I shakily pushed myself into a sitting position, I saw the woman I had previously met in the Wilds enter.
"Ah, he awakens. Mother will be pleased."
"...Morrigan?" I asked hoarsely. "Where am I?"
"In the Wilds, of course. I have just bandaged your wounds. How does your memory fare? Do you remember Mother's rescue?"
"Rescue? No... What happened during the battle? All I remember is a chaotic blur..."
"The man who was to respond to your signal... quit the field. Those he abandoned were massacred."
The horrible memories of those last few moment atop the tower flooded back into my mind.
"Your friend... is not taking it well," she continued.
Barely listening, I cried out, "That traitorous bastard!"
"...and I can see that neither are you."
"Of course I'm not taking it well! Did anyone survive? Soldiers? Grey Wardens?"
"Many deserted when they realized no reinforcements were coming. Others chose to fight to the end. As for Wardens... all dead, as far as I know. Your friend has been veering between denial and grief. Now, Mother wishes to speak to you outside by the fire."
"Alright," I agreed. "Just a few questions. First, how badly was I injured? My memory's fuzzy."
"You received dangerous injury, but nothing Mother could not heal."
"And Alistair?"
"Also fine... physically. It would be unkind to say he is being a child, I suppose."
I glared at her silently. The day of the Battle of Ostagar had forged a bond of loyalty between Alistair and me through blood and betrayal.
"I'm going to ignore that. You said your mother rescued us. How? That tower was four levels up and swarming with darkspawn."
"She turned into a giant bird and plucked you from the tower, one in each talon."
"And the real answer?" I asked.
"Ask her yourself. She may even tell you."
I rolled my eyes. Crypticism and vaguery has always annoyed me.
"Fine. Why did she rescue me?"
"I do not know. Again, 'twould be better for you to ask her. Perhaps she could only reach you two. I would have rescued your king. He would be worth a much higher ransom."
"What use do you have for a ransom when Ferelden is about to be swarmed with darkspawn?" I asked derisively.
"You can ransom people for more than gold, you know..."
"Yeah. Creepy. I get it. She wanted to meet me?"
She nodded, and I stood up unsteadily. My legs were fine, but my torso was burning. I pulled my armor on, wincing at the pressure. Stowing my swords, I walked out of the hut's door.
Alistair was staring despondently into the water. He had a dead look in his eyes. I could only imagine how he felt. I was emotionally devastated, and I comparatively hadn't known Duncan or the rest of the Grey Wardens for long at all. When he saw me, his eyes lit up slightly.
"You... you're alive," he said in a hoarse voice. "I thought you were dead for sure."
"It takes more than that to kill me," I half-joked.
"Duncan's dead... the Grey Wardens, even the king... all dead. It just doesn't seem real. It's only because of Morrigan's mother that we're not dead with them..."
Said mother cut in, "Don't speak about me as if I am not present."
"I... sorry," he apologized. "It's just... what do we call you?"
"Names are pretty, but useless. The Chasind call me Flemeth. It will do."
"The Flemeth? You really are the Witch of the Wilds, aren't you?" Alistair asked.
"Does it matter?" she asked. "I know a bit of magic, and it has served you, no?"
"I suppose we should thank you," I admitted. "Why did you save us?"
"Well, we can't have all the Grey Wardens dying at once, can we? It is your duty to unite the land against the Blight, or did that change when I wasn't looking?"
"With Loghain's betrayal... it's not that simple," I pointed out.
"It never is."
"Why would Loghain do this?" Alistair wondered.
"That is the true question," was Flemeth's answer. "Men's hearts contain shadows darker than any taint. Perhaps he thinks he can us tactics to defeat the Blight. Perhaps he is simply power-mad, and sought to be king. Regardless, it is clear he does not see the true evil behind it. "
"The archdemon," Alistair said.
"What exactly is an archdemon, outside of a tainted Old God?" I asked.
"History says it is a fearsome and immortal creature, taking the form of a tainted high dragon. And only fools ignore history. Only a Grey Warden can defeat it," Flemeth answered.
"Can we contact the other Grey Wardens?" I asked. "I'm not sure of the chances of two Warden recruits against an archdemon."
"Cailan summoned them," Alistair responded. "But we can't rely on them coming. Loghain has probably taken measures to stop them. He didn't trust us, remember."
"Then... we're all alone," I sighed. "Two Wardens, standing against thousands of darkspawn and a Blighted god. How...What can we do?"
"You are not helpless, or alone."
Alistair thought for a moment.
"There must be someone who would stand with us against Loghain's treachery... I know! We can appeal to Eamon, arl of Redcliffe. I know him. He's a good man, and he was Cailan's uncle. And he still has all his men; he wasn't at Ostagar. With his support, we could appeal to the Landsmeet!"
"I'm not sure. How can one arl stand up to the armies of both an entire kingdom and the darkspawn?" I lamented.
"You have more at your disposal than that, do you not?" Flemeth asked.
"The treaties! Of course! They promise aid during Blights. We have treaties for dwarves, elves, and mages, all guaranteeing help."
"Mages, elves, dwarves, a powerful arl... Sounds like an army to me," Flemeth said.
"Is it really that simple? Go to these places and build an army?"
"No," I answered. "Things are never that easy. But no one else can do this, so it falls to us. Without us, Loghain will let the Blight consume Ferelden before he lets foreign Wardens into the country."
"So you are ready?" Flemeth asked. "Ready to go and be Grey Wardens?"
"As ready as we'll ever be," I told her.
"Good. There is still one more thing I can yet offer you."
At this point, Morrigan returned from inside the hut.
"The stew is bubbling, Mother. Shall we have two guests for the eve, or none?"
"The Wardens are leaving, girl. And you will be joining them."
It took a bit before she processed what Flemeth had said.
"A shame—What?!"
"You heard me, girl. The last time I checked, you still had ears."
"..Sorry to interrupt," I interrupted, "but I'm not sure we want someone with us against her will."
"Morrigan's magic will be an asset. Beyond that, she know the Wilds and how to get past the horde."
"Have I no say in this?" Morrigan asked angrily.
"You have wanted to get out of the Wilds for years, have you not?" She turned to me. "As for you, Wardens, consider this repayment for your lives."
Apprehensive that bringing this woman along was supposed to be the negative equivalent of our lives being saved, I responded, "I still don't like this. But if you insist..."
"Ah... I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but won't she be dangerous? She's an apostate, outside of the Wilds," Alistair pointed out.
"If you don't want help from illegal mages, perhaps I should have left you in that tower."
"That's not what I meant, but... I take your point."
"Mother," Morrigan said. "I am not even ready..."
"You must be ready. These Wardens stand alone against the darkspawn." Directed at Alistair and me, she told, "I give you that which I value above all else in this world, because you must succeed."
"If she's coming along, then we'll do our best to protect her."
"Allow me to get my things, if you please." Morrigan went into the hut and returned with her staff and a few other belongings.
"I suggest a small village to the north as our first stop. 'Tis not far. Or," she said the next part through gritted teeth, "if you prefer, I shall simply be your silent guide."
My response of "No. Speak your mind" elicited a chuckle from Flemeth.
"You will regret that," she commented.
Alistair posed a question: "Do you really want to bring her along because her mother said so?"
I stared at him confusedly.
"Did you miss the 'the two of us are standing alone against the Blight' thing?" I asked.
"I... suppose the Wardens have always taken allies where they could find them..." he admitted.
"I am so glad to have your approval," Morrigan commented in an annoyed, sarcastic voice.
"Before we leave, I have a few questions," I told her.
"Speak, then."
"Tell me of this village."
"'Tis a small, unimportant place called Lothering. No more than a stop on your Imperial Highway for supplies to be purchased. I would have gone there more, but the chantry made the town unwelcoming to those such as me."
"The Chantry? Unwelcoming? Perish the thought!" I snarked.
"Wait... The town has a chantry, and they never suspected you were a witch?" Alistair asked.
"They did. Several times, in fact. Once they even called out their templars. They found nothing."
"All right. Back on topic: How are we going to get past the darkspawn?"
"On that topic, it is your friend we should be worried about, is it not?"
"It's true," Alistair admitted. "Our ability to sense darkspawn goes both ways."
"I don't sense any darkspawn."
"Oh, you will... It just takes time."
"Mother has given me something else to smell instead, so long as we head out of the Wilds and not further in."
"Understood. Do you have any skills I should know about?"
"I know some spells, though not to the same level as Mother. I have also studied history, and your treaties."
"Can you cook?" Alistair asked.
"I... can... yes."
"Believe me, you took that the wrong way. Unless you want to eat charred rabbit for the next however long this takes, it would be best if you cook."
"He's not wrong," Alistair admitted.
"Well, I also know fifteen poisons that grow in this marsh. Of course, 'tis not at all related to cooking..."
"I... have no more questions. Let's go."
Morrigan turned back to Flemeth and told her, "Remember the stew on the fire. 'Twould be shame to return to a burned down hut."
"You are far more likely to return to find this entire area, including my hut, swallowed by the Blight!"
With uncharacteristic hesitation, Morrigan replied, "I... all I meant..."
"I know. Do try to have fun."
At that, Morrigan began leading us along the road and we ventured forth to Lothering.
9:39 Dragon
City of Amaranthine
"You expect me to believe that you and all of Ferelden owe their lives to a legend?" Cassandra asked impatiently.
"Are you ever going to realize that I'm not lying to you?"
"Perhaps when you aren't..."
"I'm not. I wasn't about the ogre, and I'm not now. You knew about Morrigan. Why is Flemeth existing such a stretch?"
"Hmm..."
"If you'd don't want to believe, that's your business. I really don't care."
9:30 Dragon
The Imperial Highway, south of Lothering
Before we reached Lothering, we encountered a group of darkspawn. As we approached, a mabari ran up next to us and helped in the fight.
The band of hurlocks charged at us across the road. The mabari ran one down and began clawing and biting at it. Alistair knocked one down with his shield as it ran at him. Morrigan downed one by hitting it with some sort of draining magical effect. Then, to my shock, she ran forward and her form shifted to that of a dog-sized spider, which was able to savage one of the 'spawn with its mandibles. In a few furious movements, I cut down several of the hurlocks. I could see the last few fall to a combination of blades and various forms of biting.
Morrigan transformed back into her human form, oblivious to the stares directed at her.
Waving off Alistair's beginning of a question, I told him, "Ask later." Then I looked at the dog, which was sitting, looking at me expectantly.
I petted it, and it panted, sounding contented. It was familiar somehow...
"Hey, boy. You're the same dog I helped save back at Ostagar, aren't you?"
"He must have been looking for you," Alistair told me. "Mabari are smart like that. They call it 'imprinting'."
Morrigan scoffed disgustedly.
"Does this mean we will have another stupid beast following us around?" she asked, glancing knowingly at Alistair.
"Well..." I hesitated. I wasn't sure at first, but then I just looked at the panting, smiling dog and my heart melted. "Okay, he can come, but he'd better be useful."
"And yet Alistair is still with us..."
I rolled my eyes, then looked back at the dog.
"You're going to need a name, aren't you?" I thought about it for a moment. "Who's the guy from that story with the werewolf?"
"Dane?" Alistair offered.
"That's the one. What do you think, boy? Do you like the name 'Dane'?"
He barked happily.
"Dane it is then."
After that, we continued to walk toward Lothering, Dane following after us.
9:30 Dragon
Lothering
As we were about to cross the bridge to Lothering, we were set upon by a band of highwayman "toll collectors". They foolishly asked us for money to allow us through.
"You're.. toll collectors, then?" I asked annoyedly.
"Indeed. The Imperial Highway is quite expensive to maintain."
"No. you're stupid if you think I'll believe that."
"It's not really a toll. We're just robbing you, see?" the leader's somewhat thick companion said.
"Well, you see, the group you're looking at is comprised of two Grey Wardens, a mage and a mabari warhound. Let us pass."
The leader hesitated.
"...in that case, perhaps we will let the toll go this once. We will leave you Wardens to your darkspawn-fighting, regicidal ways."
"You think I'm going to let you just stay here and prey on fleeing refugees? Leave. And don't come back." I gave Morrigan an aside glance.
"I'm afraid we can't—MAKER'S BREATH!" He stared horrified as Morrigan shapeshifted into her spider form.
"NevermindI'mfinelet'sgomen!" he rapidly spoke, pointing frantically in the other direction.
Morrigan turned back to human form and smirked at their retreating forms, and we moved into Lothering.
When we reached the end of the bridge, Alistair surveyed the village. It was pretty nice-looking, but it had an atmosphere of fear and desperation throughout it.
"There it is. Lothering," Alistair said, calmer and less anguished.
"Ah. Decided to rejoin us, have you?" Morrigan asked snidely. "Falling on your blade in grief seemed too much trouble?"
Alistair shot her a glare.
"Is being upset so hard to understand? What would you do if your mother died?"
"Laugh, at first."
"Right. Very creepy."
"You've been quiet. Morrigan was a bit blunt, but the point stands."
"I know," he admitted. "I've been thinking."
"That would explain the delay," Morrigan cut in.
"Let me guess," Alistair said to her, annoyed. "This is where you make the shocking confession that you've never had a friend in your life."
"I can be friendly, when I desire to. Sadly, the same cannot be said for intelligence."
Sending her a withering glare, he turned back to me.
"I was just thinking about where we should go first."
"Good," I replied. "We need to decide. Do you have a map?"
He pulled a map of Ferelden out of his pack, along with the treaties. He pointed out where we had treaties—the Dalish of the Brecilian Forest, the dwarves of Orzammar, and the mages at Kinloch Hold in Lake Calenhad—as well as Redcliffe, home of Arl Eamon.
"I think we should visit Redcliffe first," I told him. It looks the closest... as long as you're sure the arl will help us?"
"I can't know that, but I trust him. I knew him, and he's a good man."
"Then we have our plan. Let's go," I said to them.
Down the ramp, we walked into a makeshift camp full of tents, with a few dozen refugees standing or running around. It was depressing, because I knew most of them were here because they had lost their homes. Oblivious or apathetic to their suffering, Morrigan chose then to needle Alistair about accepting the authority of a junior Grey Warden, and he admitted that he preferred to follow.
We walked through the camp and into the village proper. As we approached, a templar warned us, "If you're looking for safe shelter, I'll warn you: There's none to be found."
"Cheery," I muttered.
When we walked further, we came upon a small family of elves, standing despondently next to a river. When I approached, they asked me if I had anything to spare, as they had lost everything to bandits.
"The bandits on the bridge leading here? I drove them off. Your things might still be there."
"Thank you so much, friend," the father said. "It is good to know that others will be safe, even if our belongings aren't there." They began walking toward the bridge where the bandits were.
Smiling a bit, I refocused on the village. I could see a chantry, but didn't want to go there, if at all possible, so I kept moving. We crossed a river and came upon a tavern, Dane's Refuge. Thinking this would be as good a place as any to gather information, we entered.
We were immediately set upon by a group of soldiers wearing high-quality, ornate armor. The leader inspected me and asked one of his companions, "Now, haven't we been asking about an elf of this very description all morning?"
"'We haven't seen anyone like that', everyone's been saying," he replied.
"It seems we were lied to."
At this point, a red-haired woman in Chantry robes walked between us. She spoke in an accent I couldn't recognize at first, but soon realized was Orlesian. I had never heard an actual Orlesian accent before, but I'd heard enough drunken mockeries to have a vague idea.
"Gentlemen, surely there is no need for trouble. These are no doubt simply more poor souls seeking refuge."
"Out of our way, Sister," the leader told her, "or you'll get the same as these traitors."
"Can't we talk about this?" I asked. "No?"
"I doubt it," the woman commented. "He follows his master blindly."
"Blindly?" the man asked, offended. "I saw what happened at Ostagar. The king died because of the Wardens' treachery! If it weren't for Loghain, we'd be dead too...Enough." He turned to his companion.
"Take the Warden into custody. Kill her," he pointed toward the Chantry woman, "and anyone else in your way."
"This'll be quick," his companion muttered.
A loud gasp filled the room as the two men and another three soldiers around the room drew their swords, as did I. The woman in Chantry robes also drew a dagger from somewhere (I had no idea where she had kept it). It was a harder fight than I was used to because of how heavily armored the soldiers were, but the woman helping us was remarkably skilled, so the fight was quick. Soon, the four soldiers were wounded or unconscious and only the leader remained, barely standing. I motioned Dane forward, and he charged the man, knocking him over.
"I surrender!" the man screamed, looking up at Dane's snarling jaws.
"Good," the Chantry woman said. "They've learned, and we don't have have to fight anymore."
Glaring at the fallen leader, I spat, "Bring a message to Loghain. Tell him 'The Wardens know the truth of Ostagar'."
"Yes, of course!" he panickedly assured. I called off Dane and the man fled.
The woman turned to me and told me, "I am sorry for interfering, but I needed to help."
"And who are you, exactly?" I asked.
"I am Leliana, lay sister of the Lothering Chantry. Or, well... I was."
9:39 Dragon
City of Amaranthine
"Something wrong, Seeker?"
"What?" Cassandra asked. "No."
"You just seemed... surprised? apprehensive? not sure.. when I mentioned Leliana."
She shook her head.
"I was not any of those things. I knew of Leliana. Most people have heard of your companions... You were just seeing things."
Smirking, Mirevas thought, Huh. She doesn't know that I know. This might be fun...
9:30 Dragon
Lothering
"Nice to meet you, Leliana. Was there any other reason you helped us?"
"You are Grey Wardens, no? You fight the darkspawn? I am coming along."
I stared at her for a few seconds.
Hesitantly, I replied, "...it's true that I can use any help I can get, but why are you so eager to come along?"
"The Maker told me to," she answered without a trace of irony.
I unconsciously took a half-step back.
"So... you're one of those types?"
"What type do you mean?" she asked.
"Chantry fanatics. The kind that have been oppressing my people for the last seven hundred years."
"What? No!" She sounded horrified. "I know what that must have sounded, like, but it's true. I had a vision!"
"A vision," I repeated flatly.
"Look around! These people are lost in despair, and you can help them. Fighting the darkspawn, defeating the Blight... that is the Maker's work, and I want to help."
"Can you even help us?"
"Of course. I wasn't always a lay sister. I thought I had left that life behind, but this cause is worth it. I can fight. You saw that much."
Sighing, I thought I hope I don't regret this and said, "Alright. I won't turn away an offer of help."
"Thank you. You will not regret giving me this chance."
"Hopefully not.." I muttered. "Do you have any proper armor? Chantry robes are not effective fighting attire."
"Indeed." She left the tavern. While she was gone, I approached the bartender. After assuring him I wouldn't make any more trouble, I asked him for rumors. There was little he could tell me that we couldn't already guess, but he said that Loghain was ruling Ferelden as regent and had put blame for the loss entirely on the Wardens' shoulders.
One interesting thing, however, was that the knights of Redcliffe were scouring the countryside and cities, looking for clues as to the resting place of the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Apparently, the arl had come down with some kind of sickness. The bartender guessed it might be the Blight.
Curiosity somewhat sated, I led the group out of Dane's Refuge and met back up with Leliana, who had changed into real armor. Well, I don't really count leathers as "real armor", but that's beside the point. Anyway...
She was really quite beautiful, without the Chantry robes... and blood spatter, but mostly the Chantry robes. She had a demeanor of kindness and gentleness that made me feel like she could possibly be trusted. The well-fitting armor probably helped as well.
"Stop staring at the woman!" Morrigan commanded, annoyed.
"I wasn't staring!" I insisted. I was staring. "Humans are just... really tall..."
"She is perhaps an inch taller than you."
Blushing slightly, Leliana cut in, "All right then. I am ready to accompany you."
"Good. I have more questions, but they can wait. Let's go."
As the now-larger group moved further into Lothering, I spotted a familiar face. I had seen him at Ostagar. You're probably going to want to hear this.
"Carver?" I asked, walking up to him. "Carver Hawke? Didn't I meet you at Ostagar?"
He had been talking with two women—his sisters, I assumed—dressed in loose clothes and carrying some sort of polearms or staves. When he heard my voice, he turned to face me.
"Hey. You're that recruit for the Wardens I met. Mirevas, right?"
"That would be me."
"The teyrn claimed that the loss at Ostagar was your faults... but I was there. Don't worry. I won't tell anyone, and I know the truth."
"Good," I remarked, relieved. "So, would these be the sisters you mentioned being worried about?"
"Yes... but-"
"Oh, shove it, Carver," one of his sisters, a green-eyed blonde, told him. "Your big sister doesn't need you to help protect her."
"What, just because I'm not-"
"Carver!"
She turned to me.
"Ignore my little brother. He's always like that. I'm Lynn. Carver, Bethany," she indicated the other woman, "and I have just been preparing to leave. Mother's still at home gathering what little we have for the road."
"Best of luck on your way." I paused, then curiously questioned, "If you don't mind me asking, what are-" I pointed at the objects fastened to their backs.
"It's a spear," she interrupted.
"A spear."
"Yes. A spear."
"Not a st-"
"It's a spear. Stick. Blade. Spear," she continued to insist.
"All right. Well, if there were any apostates present, I would tell them they have nothing to worry about, as we're wanted fugitives too."
"I'll be sure to pass the message along if I see anyone," she said knowingly.
"Well, goodbye, then." I turned and started walking away.
As I walked, I could hear Lynn say, "Wait... Carver, isn't that that lay sister with the accent you've been mooning over?"
I heard him reply, mortified, "Lynn!"
The other woman, Bethany, giggled.
9:39 Dragon
City of Amaranthine
Cassandra stared wordlessly at Mirevas, mouth slightly agape.
"You... met the Champion?" she asked, shocked.
"Yep."
"I... I don't even... Did she seem..."
"Nothing happened that I didn't tell you about. I met her, she explained that her family was about to leave Lothering, she vehemently denied being a mage, and she needled Carver. That's it. You can grasp at straws and make bullshit conspiracy theories all you like, but I'm telling you the whole truth."
"Hmm..." She paused. "You said you realized they were apostates. Why didn't-"
"Don't finish that question. I didn't turn them in because that would have been stupid. My life had been saved by an apostate, and another, abrasive but helpful, was accompanying me. More than that, I was a fugitive from 'justice' too, and I wasn't about to turn in three reasonable, nice people just for an accident of birth."
"So your mage sympathies had already begun to form?"
I nodded.
"There were more important events in Lothering, but you might not be quite as interested..."
9:30 Dragon
Lothering
Further along, on the opposite outskirts of the town proper, we heard a deep voice coming from a cage as we walked past a wall.
"Shok ebasit hissra. Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun. Maraas shokra. Anaan esaam Qun," I heard the voice recite.
I peered into the cage curiously. It housed a very tall man with grey-bronze skin and white hair cut in rows, wearing simple clothing.
And I thought humans were tall, I thought.
"You are not my captor," he said taciturnly.
"I remember the revered mother mentioning this man. A 'Qunari savage', or something along those lines," Leliana said.
"Leave, elf. I am not here for your amusement."
"What are you?" I asked.
"A prisoner."
Before I could get too annoyed, Leliana told me, "He was placed in that cage for the murder of a family. Even the children."
"It is as she says," he admitted. "I am Sten of the Beresaad, the vanguard of the Qunari."
"Who's 'the vanguard'? You, or this 'Beresaad'?" I asked.
"Yes."
"I must admit, I never heard of the Qunari where I lived."
"That is your own shortcoming. I am not here to enlighten you. Though it matters little now... I will die here, given time."
In what would become a very rare occurrence, all of my companions made a unanimous agreement. Leliana believed that no one, not even a murderer, deserved to be trapped in a cage to be killed by the horde. Alistair pointed out that Qunari were world-renowned warriors, and would be valuable to our efforts. Morrigan, in a shocking twist, believed that he should be released out of mercy. Then she went back to her usual self by suggesting that Alistair replace him in the cage.
"Leliana said you murdered a family. Are you... interested in atonement?"
"I will find my atonement in death."
"There are other ways, you know."
He looked at me skeptically.
"What do you suggest to be equal to my crime?"
"I am a Grey Warden. You could find your atonement... or your death... fighting against the darkspawn."
"Surprising. I have heard stories of the Wardens' legendary skill... Not every legend is true, I suppose. In any case, it seems as likely to bring my death as waiting here. If you can free me, I will follow."
I turned back, and, with much displeasure, headed toward the chantry. Outside, we had a brief encounter with an insane Chasind raving about how the world was ending. He said that I was 'filled with the vile blackness' of the darkspawn. Frighteningly accurate, though I don't know how he knew it. Eventually, I found out that his clan and family had been slaughtered by the darkspawn, and he ran away, sobbing madly. When the people gathered around him voiced their doubts, I rallied them into hope, and they decided not to accept their fates.
Before we entered, we conversed a bit with a templar (I won't say "buckethead", because he was not, in fact, wearing a bucket helmet) named Ser Maron.
When inside, we talked to Knight-Captain Bryant, leader of the remaining templars in Lothering. It was not a particularly notable conversation, but one thing he said made me respect him more than most templars. Regarding Loghain's "ascent" to the throne, he remarked, "Only a fool fights over who owns a cottage while it burns down around them." He told us that Lothering's bann had been called north, and the village had been abandoned to its fate.
Another conversation sprung up with a knight of Redcliffe, Ser Donall, who elaborated on his fellows' and his quest for the Urn of Sacred Ashes. After Eamon fell ill, Arlessa Isolde had sent all of the town's knights out to find the Urn. Donall felt like the chances of finding it dimmed as time went on, because he had been searching for months. Alistair told me that he thought even more it was the right idea to go to Redcliffe.
When that was done, we finally advanced past a pair of buckethead guards to talk to the revered mother. She, in that trademark condescending Chantry way, immediately hit me up for a donation.
"A donation?" I asked impatiently. "The village is days away from being overrun, and you're asking me to tithe? Unless you're going to use it to help evacuate, which I highly doubt, I think I know of more righteous ways to spend my coin."
In the other trademark Chantry tone of voice, annoyance masked by feigned civility, she replied, "You must do as your heart wills."
"I want to talk about the imprisoned Qunari."
"Execution might have been kinder, but his fate lies with the Maker now. Why?"
"I want him released."
"Why? Do you want his next victims to blame you and me?"
"I'm a Grey Warden. Release him into my custody, and he'll help us fight against the Blight."
Her eyes slid past me, in a dismissive gesture that annoyed me greatly, to look at Leliana.
"Sister Leliana, what do you think? You would understand your friend better than I."
Leliana hesitantly responded, "These are... unusual times, Your Reverence. With us, the Qunari might do some good."
"He could also quite possibly die," I pointed out, annoyed at the revered mother, "which is your goal already."
Barely suppressing a glare, the revered mother agreed to hand over the key to the Qunari's cage.
I walked back out of the chantry, smirking slightly. We walked back to Sten's cage.
"You return."
"I have the key to your cage. The revered mother reluctantly agreed to release you into my custody."
"Then set me free, and lead me against the Blight."
I inserted the key and the lock clicked open. I opened the door.
"And so it is done. I will follow you into battle and find my atonement."
"Good."
He stepped out of the cage and began following me. I looked around town more, helped a few people, killed some bandits, until eventually, I decided it was time to move on. We moved across a field-and-farmland area to another bridge leading away from town. A small band of darkspawn was about to attack two dwarves, one of them a merchant. However, with the new group members, they barely had one-to-one odds, so they were slaughtered easily.
"Good timing there, my friends. I'm much obliged," one of the dwarves, the older-looking, heavily bearded one, said to me.
"No trouble," I responded. "Darkspawn-killing's kind of my job description."
"Ah, a Grey Warden, then? I was about to suggest I join you on the road, but I'll have to rethink that. The name's Bodahn Feddic, merchant. This is my boy, Sandal," he pointed to the other dwarf, a beardless, simple-looking one. "Say hello, my boy."
"Hello."
"Now, if there's nothing else, good luck on the road. Come, Sandal, let's clean up this mess."
I nodded to the dwarf and the seven of us continued on the road from Lothering.
AN: Thanks to Pintsizedpsycho and SharpRevan for the reviews!
