Fergus ripped the stopper from the poultice with his teeth, pouring the warm gel on Lance's wounds. The younger man cried out from the stinging, waking him up instantly.

"Sod me with a hammer!" he cried. His wounds weren't deep, thankfully, but they would need some time to heal. "Fergus, what happened?"

"We locked ourselves in like you said," he told Lance. "They broke down the door, and we killed as many as we could. Morrigan was fantastic, I can see why you love her."

"Where is she?" Lance asked, reaching out to feel for her. "Is she here?"

"They took her," Fergus said. "They separated us, and they took her."

"Impossible," said Lance. "She wouldn't go down without a fight. She wouldn't."

"She didn't. She killed as many as she could before she ran out of magic. I think they used some sort of poison on her. She was still alive when they grabbed her, I know it."

Fergus reached beside him, produced her staff, Wintersbreath. Lance gripped it, felt its chill.

"No," he whispered. Struggling, he sat up, grimacing from his wounds. "Where'd they go? I have to find them."

"Wait," Fergus said. "Wait, brother. You cannot."

Lance rubbed his eyes. It was bright out, morning. "How long?"

"Hours ago," said Fergus. "I don't think they left any tracks."

"They were sloppy, they weren't the best," said Lance. "They left tracks, hundreds of them. They had to!"

"Calm down. We will find her. We have to think rationally. You're hurt, and we need to get you aid."

"There's no time for that! She's out there and I've got to find her."

"It's a trap," Fergus insisted. "Can't you figure that out? This is what they want."

"I'll kill them, it doesn't matter."

"It does matter. Can't you see that?" asked Fergus. "If we want revenge then we need to be smart about it."

"While they do gods know what to her? While they rape her? Kill her?"

"Get a hold of yourself, man. She will die if you don't."

"Sod off, Fergus," said Lance. He stood, groaning and coughing as he did. He thought he tasted blood. His back ached, and he had one hell of a headache. Standing, he couldn't see straight. He couldn't stand still. The entire world was off balance.

"Not again," Lance mumbled. "I can't lose you again."

Fergus watched, numb. He didn't know what to do, how to console his brother. Lance stumbled into the makeshift graveyard.

Lance fell to his knees, right in front of Marna's grave. He saw his handprint that Morrigan had burned there. He grit his teeth, tasting blood again.

"I want to kill them," said Lance. "Help me kill them."

"I will," said Fergus. "But you are hurt. And you have visitors."

He waved at the "visitors", Velanna and Oghren. They had just arrived, and were dirty from travel. Oghren looked especially upset, having had to ride on the horse before Velanna, It was indignant for a Dwarf.

"Lance, the Vigil was attacked," said Velanna. "Assassins. We killed them all."

"It was a dupe," said Lance. "A sham. The real attack was here. They wanted Morrigan."

"What for?"

"To get to me? I don't know, it seems like something someone would do to get me."

"We'll get her back," said Oghren. "Don't you worry about that. I promised you once."

"Yeah," said Lance. "I'm getting her."

Velanna reached into her pack, pulled out his armor and his sword. Starfang and the dragonskin.

"These belong to you," she said. "I thought they might be nice to have."

"Thanks," Lance said. He pressed his chest wound lightly, grimacing. He pulled the breastplate on, made sure it was tight enough to hold the poultices to his injury. It hurt. Fergus had to help him with the leggings and the gauntlets.

"Let me make a stop to the armory," said Fergus. "I must outfit myself appropriately."

"Okay," Lance nodded. To Velanna, he said, "Do you have any idea where to start?"

Velanna shook her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't check the bodies. I didn't look for anything."

"But you can track?" Lance asked. "You can use your Dalish magic to find them?"

"I can try," Velanna said. Lance nodded.

He looked down at his hand, ran his thumb over the ring Morrigan had given him.

"So can I," he said.

His body ached, but he could fight through the pain. He had to. He'd been in worse shape before.

He wondered what they'd hoped to gain from all this. If they wanted to hurt him, then why not just kill him? They had their chance. All this reeked of conspiracy. He couldn't help but think back to that letter warning him of discontent in the Bannorn.

Was this somehow connected? Maybe it was all a part of the plot, some way to get at him, or Ferelden as a whole. He had no delusions that he was anywhere near that important, but the citizenry seemed to think so. He knew well enough that his death would leave the nobility in upheaval.

"I'm ready," said Fergus, returning with his sword and shield, dressed in chainmail. He grinned, reaching up to rub his beard. "We'll find her, little brother, I promise."

Lance nodded, poked his side experimentally, wincing at the sharp pain. He looked at Velanna, who nodded and raised her hand to cast healing magic on him.

"The others? Do they know?" he asked her. She shook her head.

"I told them to expect us gone for a while."

"Good enough," said Lance. "Let's go."