Bioware owns Dragon age and all that is affiliated with it.
It was a quiet group that made their way through the Wilds at dawn. It came as no surprise to Darcy that Morrigan had joined them. Flemeth had innocently explained that it would be beneficial to them if Morrigan went along too. She had an extensive knowledge of Ferelden flora, which meant that healing poultices and such would no longer be a concern. Add to that the fact that she was a gifted mage and Darcy had to agree that having Morrigan along wouldn't be such a bad idea. Alistair had protested loudly, but was unanimously ignored by all.
Chaos greeted them as they finally entered Lothering. A large refugee camp lay to one side of the settlement; small makeshift tents littered the field closest to the town. The town centre was a hive of activity. Everywhere people were busy loading carts and wagons with their precious belongings. Small clusters of people were gathered near shops or in the street talking amongst themselves; the looks of worry obvious on their faces. A steady stream of people flowed out of the town, leaving for Redcliffe or Denerim. Dirty children played a game of tag; giggling and weaving in and out between the legs of the adults.
"I guess they've heard about the Darkspawn problem," Alistair said; sidestepping a little boy that came barrelling past them.
"Ah yes, another pointless observation from the travelling buffoon." Morrigan sneered. Darcy rolled her eyes and clenched her hands into fists to stop herself from knocking their heads together. The two of them had been bickering like two three year olds ever since leaving Flemeth's hut that morning.
"I'm not a buffoon; I was simply thinking out loud," Alistair huffed.
"Thinking Alistair? I did not know you were capable of such a thing. Truly, I am impressed."
"I'll have you know that the Chantry expected their Templars to be well educated. I'm not as stupid as you think I am; I studied history."
"Well, good for you, the Chantry must have been so proud to have you."
"Have I told you recently just how much I hate you?"
"Enough!" Darcy growled looking at her two companions.
"You two are like three year old children. I am done listening to the two of you degrade and belittle each other. There is a merchant over there near the refugee camp, why don't the two of you go and see if you can get us a good deal on some supplies." She pointed towards a large oxcart standing off to one side; a few people were clustered around the merchant, so Darcy could not see what he looked like.
"Where are you going?" Alistair pouted.
"I am going to find out if there is somewhere for us to stay the night and catch up on news." Darcy didn't wait for Alistair to respond. Instead, she whistled for Teebone and headed in the opposite direction.
She didn't run very far, when she almost collided with a heavily armoured Templar.
"Oh, I am so sorry," Darcy apologized feeling a little flustered that she didn't see him standing there.
"No need to apologize; you seem to be in a hurry." He smiled down at her. He was really tall and Darcy had to crane her neck to look into his eyes. He had dark brown hair and rich, chocolate-brown eyes.
"Not really, running just seemed like the best form of escape at the time." She smiled.
"Escape?" The Templar's brow pulled together in confusion.
"I needed a break from the constant bickering," she said and gestured towards the merchant's cart where Alistair and Morrigan stood. Sure enough, they were still bickering; judging by Alistair's wild hand gestures and Morrigan's angry glares.
"That's as good an excuse as any," he chuckled.
"I am Ser Bryant," he introduced himself offering his hand in greeting.
"I'm Darcy," she accepted his hand in a firm grasp and shook it.
"Are you passing through? I don't think I have seen you here before." He was scrutinizing her closely, which made Darcy feel a little anxious. She had yet to learn what Loghain had said about the battle, but she was almost certain that Grey Wardens were not going to be welcomed with open arms.
"We are on our way to Redcliffe. I thought I would see if we could get some lodgings for tonight."
"Where did you come from? From the looks of you and your companions, you aren't exactly farmers, are you." Ser Bryant was still watching her very closely.
Darcy could not tell from his posture whether he meant to do her harm or not; his expression remained soft and friendly and his stance was relaxed. Still, Darcy wasn't going to take any chances. If his hand so much as twitched towards his blade, she would be ready.
"We are survivors from the battle at Ostagar," she told him truthfully. He nodded as if this was something he already expected.
"Ah, then it is with regret that I have to inform you that you will probably not find lodgings in town tonight, but, if you speak to Danal at Dane's Refuge, he might be able to provide you and your companions with a hot meal. I'm afraid that is all that there is to offer in Lothering at the moment." Ser Bryant smiled ruefully.
"That is more than what I would have expected. Thank you, Ser Bryant, your help is appreciated." Darcy breathed a sigh of relief.
"Then I bid you good day, my lady," Ser Bryant bowed and started walking away. He didn't walk far before he paused and walked back towards Darcy; a worried look etched deep into his brow.
Standing very close, he spoke quietly; his tone urgent, "I would not linger in this town, Warden, there are those who believe that the Grey Wardens are to blame for the king's death. Loghain has put a bounty on your heads; be careful."
Darcy nodded her head in acknowledgement, "Thank you," she said as Ser Bryant walked away from her once more.
Well, it was as she had suspected it might be. Loghain was not going to make this easy for her and Alistair; they would have to be careful around towns and cities. She hoped that Arl Aemon would be able to help them when they got to Redcliffe. It had been Alistair's suggestion to seek the Arl's help and Darcy had thought it was a good idea. Having the support of an Arl could only be beneficial to their cause.
Dane's Refuge was packed. Darcy ordered Teebone to stay outside and entered the inn. She managed to make her way to the bar after nearly being trampled on once or twice.
"What can I get fer ya?" A broad-shouldered man in his late forties with dark brown hair and a bushy moustache looked at her expectantly.
"Are you Danal?" Darcy asked.
"Who wants to know?" he asked gruffly.
"Ser Bryant mentioned that I needed to speak to Danal about acquiring a hot meal for myself and my companions tonight."
"Hmmm," he grunted and nodded his head.
"My name's Danal, and this here's my place. I can give you a hot meal fer two silvers a person, but don't bother asking fer lodgings 'cause I don't have any."
"Thank you, ser, I will be back with my companions for the evening meal." Darcy smiled at the man and then started making her way through the crowd towards the door once more.
Outside, Teebone barked happily at her in greeting.
"Well, at least we won't have to eat stale bread and hard cheese for our dinner tonight. Come on, let's go and save Alistair from Morrigan before she really turns him into a frog." Darcy scratched the Mabari behind his ears before walking in the direction of the merchant's wagon.
Darcy had almost reached the merchant's wagon when a huge commotion coming from the opposite direction caught her attention. A prison wagon was drawing a large crowd of people. Darcy made her way back over the bridge and past Danes Refuge; joining the gathering crowd. There were three haggard-looking men inside the prison wagon. All three looked liked they had a thorough beating. Two of the men looked to be in their thirties, but the third was a young man that looked as if he had barely left boyhood behind. Darcy thought that he must have been a year or two younger than she was. His face was badly beaten with a split top lip and a badly swollen right eye. A cut above his left eyebrow was still weeping blood. One of the older men looked like he was missing half his teeth and some of his right earlobe. The other man's face was less bruised, but his right arm hung limp at his side and the ripped sleeve of his tunic was drenched in blood.
Darcy turned her attention to the four armed men that had been escorting the prison wagon. All four men looked like seasoned fighters - mercenaries. They held the stance of men who were always ready for a fight; they seemed relaxed, but their hands were never far from their weapons. Darcy noticed how one of the men, a big burly man with large muscular arms, constantly scanned the crowd for potential danger. They obviously loved the attention they were getting from the crowd that had gathered. One of them, a little younger than the others was strutting about like a male peacock showing off his tail feathers. He paused in front of a young woman and whispered something in her ear that made her blush; he was very confident of himself, too confident.
A heart-wrenching cry came from somewhere at the back of the crowd; it quickly parted to reveal a woman in her late forties, perhaps early fifties, clutching at a younger woman for comfort and crying bitterly.
"That's my son, you can't take my son!" She cried.
A smaller figure stepped out from behind the two women. He was a bit on the skinny side, but his movements were lithe and cat-like in grace. His bright blue eyes and pale skin was in high contrast with his jet-black hair. His features were contorted in utter rage as he walked towards the four armed men. The men were elbowing each other and chuckling as they watched the boy. Darcy had a bad feeling about this. Scanning the crowds, she did not see Alistair or Morrigan. Bending down and rubbing Teebone's head, she quietly ordered the hound to go find them. Sensing the urgency in his mistress' voice, he gave a short growl in the back of his throat and ran away; his nose firmly to the ground as he sniffed out the scents of the two humans that accompanied his mistress.
Darcy watched as the boy came to a halt right in front of the biggest of the four men. He showed absolutely no fear and Darcy hoped that it wasn't foolishness.
"Let my brother go!" The boy all but growled at the men.
Exchanging glances, the men started roaring with laughter and slapping each other on the back in their mirth.
"Or what, boy? You think you can take us on?" The big one asked looking down at him.
"Why have you taken my brother prisoner; what has he done?"
"He's one of them Grey Wardens that betrayed the king. There's a ransom put on his head by Loghain himself." One of the men with a crooked nose and bright copper hair said. He was grinning from ear to ear, but his eyes were locked on the boy in front of them.
"My brother is no Grey Warden, you're mistaken."
"No matter, that's fer Loghain to decide," The third man with dirty blonde hair said.
Darcy felt a warm tongue lick her fingers at her side and looked down to find that Teebone had returned with Alistair and Morrigan. They both looked at her with worried frowns.
"What's happening?" Alistair whispered.
"Mercenaries," Darcy explained.
"They've got the boy's brother and is claiming he is a Grey Warden along with the other two. They are going to take them to Loghain and claim the bounty."
"There's a bounty on the Grey Wardens?" Alistair asked incredulously.
"Of course, fool, that is what she just said." Morrigan retorted indignantly.
Darcy sighed, she didn't have time for this.
"Look, that boy is about the meet the Maker if someone doesn't do something to stop this. Whatever you do, do not say that you are a Grey Warden, Alistair, and both of you stay put unless you think it is absolutely necessary to intervene." Darcy's eyes bore into Alistair's, waiting for his reply.
"What are you going to do?" He asked.
"I don't know yet." Darcy turned and moved through the crowd towards the four men and the boy before Alistair could say anything about it.
The boy had drawn a dagger and was holding it in front of him defensively as the big man stepped forward.
"What are ye going to do with that toothpick of ye'rs, eh?" The man growled menacingly and took another step forward.
Up close, Darcy noticed that the boy was actually a lot older than she originally thought. In fact, Darcy wasn't so sure he was a boy at all; the features of his face was far too feminine. There was a dangerous glint in those hard blue eyes that made Darcy think that he (if in fact he was indeed a he) was more capable of taking on his opponent than she first thought. However, Darcy wasn't going to gamble on another's life and stepped into the circle just as the big man drew his very large two-handed great sword from its sheath on his back.
"Halt," Darcy said in her most commanding tone. The crowd gasped their surprise as all eyes turned on her.
Craik's smile widened when he saw the small woman that had walked into the ring. Her auburn hair glinted like fire in the afternoon sun and silken strands of loose hair framed her small face. Two large, grey eyes glared angrily at him as his eyes travelled over her delicious curves. He noticed the two swords on her back; she obviously had some skill, but she was still young and he had been fighting for many, many years. She would be no match for him. He decided that he would not kill her, yet. She promised to be a lot of fun.
"Hello, darling," he chuckled. "Just give me a minute to dispose of this here little rat, then you and I can go somewhere more private to discuss all the fun we are going to have."
He could hear his three companions chuckle behind him. It irritated him. They were a bunch of idiots who couldn't think for themselves and took all their cues from him. He was beginning to think that maybe it was time to get rid of them and find some new comrades; preferably before they reached Denerim. He took a step towards her and was impressed when she did not flinch.
"You will leave the boy alone and you will set those men free; they are no Grey Wardens." Darcy said. The tone of her voice was hard, but she spoke clearly and her voice carried across the crowd.
The crowd started murmuring quietly amongst themselves. This had to be the most exciting thing to happen since news came of the Darkspawn invasion, apart from the capture of that large, grey giant that was being held captive in the cage just outside of the town's walls.
Craik studied the girl in front of him more closely. Her stance was relaxed and yet she looked ready to go into combat at a moment's notice. There was an air of confidence around her that he had only seen in experienced fighters. Her eyes were hard and glinted dangerously; never leaving his face. Perhaps he was too quick to judge her harmless. His smile faltered ever so slightly.
"Is that so, and how do you know they aren't Grey Wardens?" The grin on his face felt a little forced, but he had to keep up appearances; there was no way that he would admit that this girl was actually making him a little nervous.
A smile slowly formed on her lips, but it held no warmth at all. Craik couldn't help swallowing nervously.
"Because I am a Grey Warden and none of these men were amongst my brothers and sisters at Ostagar."
Darcy noticed how the large man's adam's apple bobbed up and down when he swallowed. Good, she thought, she was getting to him. At the mention of her being a Grey Warden, the crowd gasped loudly and the constant low murmur became louder.
"Well, well, did you hear that, lads? It seems we have been very lucky stopping here in this lovely town. Four Grey Wardens for Loghain, now isn't that something." Craik chuckled and glanced in the direction of his companions. Craik had no doubt that the woman was skilled, but there was no way she could beat four seasoned fighters.
"I have a proposition for you," Darcy said as all four men drew their weapons and started towards her. The big one stopped and raised his hand for the others to stop as well.
"Go on then, let's hear it," Craik said.
"I challenge you to a duel. You may fight me yourself, or you may choose one of your companions to fight for you. If I win, you release your prisoners and leave this town. If you win, I will go with you to Denerim as your prisoner, but you will leave your current prisoners here."
"Do you take me for a fool, girl? Why would I give up the prisoners that I already have when I can hand Loghain four Wardens?" Craik laughed.
"It's like I said, your prisoners aren't Grey Wardens and Loghain would see that straight away. You won't get a reward for those three. However, Loghain does know who I am and I can assure you that he will reward you handsomely for my capture."
Craik studied the small woman in front of him for a long moment. He wondered if she was telling the truth and if so, how did Loghain know her?
"Just who in the Void are you?" Craik asked; unable to contain his curiosity.
"I am Darcy Cousland. My father is Bryce Cousland, Teyrn of Highever." Darcy prayed to the Maker that no one here had heard of her family's downfall.
The crowd could be heard talking amongst themselves in excitement and there was an air of anticipation that surrounded them. Craik had heard of the Cousland name before. If she was indeed the daughter of Teyrn Cousland, she would very likely fetch a much higher reward than all three men put together. If he was not satisfied with Loghain's reward, he could always ransom her to the Teyrn himself.
"Very well, I accept your terms," Craik nodded.