Chapter 10: Battle at the Cliff
Everyone stared at Gwen and Leith when they came back to camp. And what a sight they were.
Their clothes and hair were tousled; leaves, dirt and bruises covered their figures.
Gwen realised the implication, and presumptions, of the scene. She blushed a deep red, feeling singled out by the group.
Leith on the other hand, couldn't read the situation like Gwen could. He casually walked over to the fire and sat down, picking off leaves from his clothes and throwing them into the fire.
Leliana, the Sister, approached Gwen with a curious expression, "Are you and the bandit close?"
"Bandit?" Gwen asked.
"The man sitting over by the fire," Leliana nodded her head in Leith's direction, "Are you close?"
"Leith isn't a bandit," Gwen said, for some reason she felt the need to defend Leith.
Leliana raised an eyebrow, "The refugees have suffered because of him and his group."
Gwen thought about trying to explain to Leliana why Leith had done those things, but she decided it wasn't her place to share such information, instead she answered slightly irritated, "No, we're not close. I threatened to kill him when I first met him, and for some reason he wants to stick around."
Leiana nodded her head, not wishing to further anger Gwen. Gwen started at her as she turned her back. She was trying to figure out what Leliana was thinking. Was she judging her? Did she dislike her? Why was she being so nosy?
Gwen closed her eyes and made herself stop thinking about someone else's motives. She was tired, it had been a long day.
She had started her journey to Lothering early that morning, almost killed Leith at the bridge, almost got killed by Templars, and met up with her fellow Grey Wardens...the ones she thought were dead.
Yes, it had been a long day indeed. Gwen took a heavy step across the dimly glowing camp. Alistair had set up a bed roll for her, since there weren't enough tents.
He was thoughtful, but Gwen felt uneasy around him. Every time she saw him, a foreign yet familiar feeling settled within her. She wanted to take that feeling and throw it in the nearest lake to drown.
Hesitantly, she slipped into the bed roll, removing only the outermost uncomfortable parts of her armor. She let her eyelids fall, ignoring the set of brown eyes watching her.
All of the day's events washed over her like a strong current. It pressed her down into the ground, clutching for stability against the waves. Images of the horde pouring over their forces in Ostagar plagued her dreams. Duncan was dead. The King of Ferelden was dead. Elissa. Bryce. Eleanor...Fergus?
Gwen had not thought of Fergus since their bad parting. A small part of her hoped that Fergus was alive, the other told her to not care. It said that he lied to her, wanted to use her for his own gain. He was lost, most likely dead. There was nothing Gwen could do, so why should she care?
Gwen tended to listen to this voice. It made the most sense, and it always put her first. It cared about her.
Another violent dream tortured her mind. But she did not wake.
Outside of the Grey Warden's sleeping minds, the night settled and soon became dawn.
IXI
There was always something plain about his world, his life, his story.
It was too common. He was common, in every way.
His death was near, he knew it. But the grim and sour end had not overtaken him yet.
At one point in his past life, it might have made him sad, but he strode onwards.
There was a light ahead, and he saw it. He wanted to reach out and grab it, but it was so far away. Forever he kept walking, creeping ever closer to the iridescent light.
IXI
"What do you call a man with no body and just a nose?" It was another one of Leith's dumb jokes that never ceased to annoy Gwen
Gwen sighed for the 50th time that day, "I don't know. What do you call him?"
"Nobody nose!" Leith burst out laughing.
She looked at him with the same tired expression that she had given him all the other times.
"That one was actually pretty funny!" Alistair commented, cheerily.
"You are the only one here who thinks so, Alistair," said Morrigan, "But I suppose it makes sense. A fool's joke fit for a fool."
Gwen partially agreed with Morrigan, but she saw them more of annoying happy optimists than fools.
One and the same. The voice sneered.
Their group of seven, plus the mambari, was making their way to Redcliff; Solona and Alistair had decided.
Gwen vaguely remembered Redcliff. She had been there to attend a "meeting of the families". The Couslands had been invited to dinner by the Arl of Redcliff. But that was so long ago, she doubted anyone would have remembered her.
"What do you suppose we do once we meet this Arl? How do you know he'll cooperate with us?" Morrigan asked Alistair. She was suspicious of political men it seemed.
Alistair gave her a funny look, "I know the Arl. He's a good man, he'll help us." Alistair's voice hinted at faltering.
Solona looked over at him, giving him a concerned glance. She knew something that the rest of them didn't.
"Let's hope you are right. But from past experiences, that isn't your forte," Morrigan ended the conversation by insulting Alistair as she usually did.
Gwen felt herself coming on with a headache. All this conversation was making her tired, people made her tired. She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes closing herself off from the world for a moment.
But sadly, a moment of peace was not possible for her. When she closed her eyes pictures of darkspawn and memories of the Cousland slaughter filled her empty vision.
Hours had already passed and the sun was beating down their necks. How much farther could Redcliff be?
After a great and exhausting hike up a hill, their destination could be seen down below by the lake.
But something was wrong. The town below looked...silent. An eerie feeling crept down Gwen's spine. She looked over to the others but no one seemed to notice the foul air that hovered above them.
Alistair was too busy talking to Solona to notice. Gwen wondered what could possibly be so important.
As they neared the town, a thin and pale man came running at them with desperation.
Gwen's suspicions had been confirmed.
Solona calmed the man with her smooth and persuading voice. She asked him what had happened.
The man babbled of nightmares and undead. Every night they crawled out of the castle to feast on them and add more numbers to their army.
Alistair was distraught, immediately asking of the Arl's health. But the man would not answer him, he was too frightened and too out of breath. He begged them for help, he said that they would all be dead by morrow's morning.
Alistair, still worried about the Arl, rushed after the man who gestured wildly for them to follow him.
"Alistair wait for us!" Solona called after him. She ran after him, her eyes never leaving his form.
The others had no choice but to follow their leaders.
Gwen resented the fact that Solona and Alistair had become their leaders. Solona in particular. Gwen also was a Grey Warden, why shouldn't she direct the group in saving the Blight as well?
Gwen decided she would remedy that later, she wouldn't let herself be ordered and strung around for long.
Redcliff village was...a depressing sight. Commoners everywhere were haunted and sickly, looking at the odd group like a starving pack of wolves.
Gwen's eyes landed on the Chantry, their house of refuge in their dark time.
The Chantry looked like it had gone through many battles. Blood stains marked deaths upon its cold stone walls.
Gwen had mixed feeling of this building. The Chantry had been forced on her, and took her away from her destiny. Yet...it was the house of the Maker's faithful. Even if they didn't always understand His message.
Inside the Chantry reminded Gwen of Lothering. People were clinging to the sides of the walls for their own space, woman and children cried of hunger and loss.
The Arl's brother was one of the few nobles left alive, and he was running the Chantry, hoping that they would make it through the next night.
When the Arl's brother caught sight of the armed strangers his countenance changed from that of exhaustion to one of renewed hope.
"Teagan!" Alistair called out. Waving his arms to catch his attention.
"Alistair? By the Maker is that really you? I hardly recognized you! The last time I saw you, you were much shorter and covered in mud! What brings you here?"
"We came to speak with Eamon. Is he here? What happened?" Their small happy reunion ended as Eamon was mentioned.
"Eamon is deathly ill, even the healers could not cure him. Isolde sent out knights to find a cure...but it is unlikely they will ever find it," As Teagan explained Alistair became more and more worried.
"What is this cure?" Alistair asked.
Teagan sighed, reluctant to answer, "Isolde believes that the Urn of Sacred Ashes will cure Eamon."
The Urn of Sacred Ashes...Gwen remembered reading about it many times. But she didn't believe in it's existence. It seemed too wonderful to be possible.
"The Urn?" Leliana spoke up.
"Indeed. But it won't matter even if it does exist. No one has been up to the castle since the attacks started. Eamon could be dead," Tegan said grimly.
"No." Alistair said, "He's not dead. We will reach him Tegan, I promise you."
"That is reassuring, but for now we must prepare for the battle tonight. If we can survive tonight I can help you get into the castle. Come with me, please, there is much to do."
IXI
The sun fell through the bottom of the horizon quickly as the party struggled to bring together the town.
The blacksmith was drunk, a young girl lost her brother, a warrior dwarf refused to fight for the town…
The moral of the people was low, so low that the Chantry gave out cheap sun burst amulets.
Gwen resented those amulets, they were lies. But...if it made villagers and soldiers fight better…she wasn't going to protest.
As the last shining ray slipped behind the cracked and hollow castle atop the hill, a sickly eerie green fog rolled out of the castle's gates.
The undead arose like nightmares and wrought upon the village with barred teeth and rusted metal.
Some fought for themselves, others for their families. Gwen fought for a reason she could not hold in her palm, it controlled her from the back of her mind like little kicks of energy.
People fell around her as they struggled to fend off the undead. An all too familiar scene to the battle of Ostagar.
The battle lasted until sunrise, finally ending as they were pushed up against the Chantry.
Alistair exchanged a look of relife with Solona, rushing over to her once the battle had ended.
"Solona! Are you alright?" Alistair scanned over her looking for wounds.
"I'm fine," she pushed off his hand, "I haven't forgiven you yet."
Alistair gave her puppy dog eyes, but Solona simply rolled her eyes. A hint of a forgiving smile crossed her features.
Most would smile at this cute scene, but not Gwen. She scoffed.
But the battle was won, and they remained alive. To Gwen, getting into the castle was a more pressing issue then Alistair's love life.