Chapter 20 - Changes

He was very angry and did nothing to conceal his anger. Wynne knew it wasn't time to talk to him. So far they had encountered werewolves and found ironbark wood for the Dalish smith back at the camp. They hadn't a clue where to find this Witherfang and seemed to have been walking for hours. Zevran was also on his nerves with his constant innuendos directed at Wynne.

If he mentions her magical bosom one more time... Alistair's fists clenched and unclenched as he stood in front of what seemed to be a mist that stretched from one side of the path to the next.

"That doesn't look too inviting," Zevran said as he eyed the mist warily. "You really don't think we should walk through it?"

Alistair smirked. "I do, and we are. And you are going through first." He gave a bark of a laugh and pushed the elf in front of him, following him closely behind. The four of them blinked and found that they were right back where they started, the Dalish camp looming to view not far ahead.

"Andraste's flaming sword!" Alistair cursed and turned back, sighing as he did. "Well, we're going to go back to where we were, and we'll have to avoid that mist or any other mist in the future."

They trudged wearily through the forest, when they were ambushed by werewolves. Zevran danced around them and helped Alistair dispatch two, while Sten took the other two easily with his greatsword. Wynne stood behind, in a defensive position and waited.

Up ahead from where they were, Alistair could see another werewolf on one knee, breathing hard. They all approached it slowly.

"Please, help me," the werewolf panted heavily. "I'm not what I seem to be..."

"You look like a werewolf to me. This could be a trap for all we know," Alistair replied warily.

"You are human, I was once an elf."

"You were one of the clan who changed into a werewolf after the attack?" he questioned.

"You know of the attack? Then you have met my clan?"

"Your keeper, Zathrian, was the one that sent us here," Alistair answered.

"The keeper sent you? Then you seek Witherfang..." the werewolf breathed out.

"Yes, I do. Have you seen him?" Alistair saw that this werewolf was dying from its wounds. He started to feel very sorry for it.

"I have, but it is not what you think. All this is very wrong. Zathrian is...but I have no time to explain!" A howl of pain accompanied its words. "My name is Danyla. My husband is called Athras. I have been cursed. The scarf I wear, please take it back to the camp. Take it to my husband, and tell him that I love him. Tell him I am dead and with the gods, I beg you!"

"But you aren't dead!" Alistair interrupted, suddenly feeling sick with pity.

"I soon will be," Danyla answered. "You must finish it, before it is too late!"

"I can heal you!" Alistair turned to Wynne, and she shook her head, not meeting his eyes.

Danyla shook her monstrous head. "Magic cannot cure the curse. Please, end the pain! End it for me quickly!"

Alistair took the scarf. He blinked back tears of compassion that were threatening to fall. Then, in one swift movement, he took his dagger and plunged it deeply into Danyla's heart.

As she fell, Danyla cried, "Thank you! Thank you! Gods bless you..." She died.

Alistair stood there, head bowed for some time. Wynne put a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's go dear. You did the right thing," she whispered.

Alistair let out a sigh and jerked his head up. He turned to Wynne and she smiled sweetly at him. He nodded and everyone resumed their silent march.

They met Aneirin along the way, and Wynne was overjoyed. She was finally able to tell this young elf that she was very sorry for the way she had treated him, for not being patient with him. Aneirin smiled and told her he had put it all past him and that she should too. He gave her an amulet and told her it was magical and it would help her. She thanked him and they hugged before they left his small camping area.

They eventually ran into powerful sylvan trees that were bewitched and attacked them. After battling them and killing them, Alistair announced that they were taking a break. The group sat around a small clearing and munched on some food. No one spoke.

They continued their march through the forest and came upon an oak tree that turned to life and greeted them. Alistair shook his head in disbelief. That the tree spoke to them surprised them but what was really mind blowing is that it spoke in rhymes.

The tree told them about an acorn that was stolen from him by a thief. It said that if they found this acorn and returned it, it would provide them with something to pass through the mist and trees into the center of the forest where Witherfang and the werewolf lair was. Alistair jumped at this opportunity and agreed to help the grand oak.

Eventually they arrived to another section of the forest that showed signs of a campfire and a tent. While they were examining this, a loud crack was heard and an old man appeared in front of them. Alistair never knew how, but he suddenly found himself playing a game with the old man. He knew that this was the man who had taken the acorn and also knew the man was a mage. As an ex-templar he could feel the man's magic practically oozing out of him.

The man said that if he asked a question he would get a question from him in return. If he answered a question he would get an answer from him.

After a while, Alistair grew tired of the game they were playing. He walked over to a tree stump. Curiosity took the best of him and he reached in and extracted something from it. It was an acorn, so he pocketed it and saw the man fling out his arms channeling powerful magic as he did so.

Alistair lifted his arms to the sky and drained the mage's mana before it could do more harm but he had already summoned a couple of demons to fight them. Wynne directed arcane bolts at the demons and Zevran and he danced around the mage, managing to kill him after a few minutes.

"Right, we have the acorn, we should set out and find the grand oak again, then we can finally get to the center of the forest and find out what is up," Alistair told them.

"Well, we have to kill this Witherfang, no?" Zevran asked. "That's what Zathrian told us we have to do."

"I don't know, there is something very wrong here. Remember Danyla? She mentioned that it wasn't what we thought. I think there is more to all this than meets the eye," he answered back thoughtfully. "If we can, I hope to speak to this Witherfang and listen to their side of the story."

"I don't know why you are doing this. Our orders were very clear," Zevran answered back.

Alistair's fists clenched. "Are you in charge here, or am I?" He stood very close to Zevran, slightly flushed.

Zevran shook his head and backed off. "You are of course, my dear Warden," he said smirking at him.

"Then let's see if we can get to the bottom of it."

Sten made it worse, if that was possible. He suddenly turned to Alistair and said, "Draw your sword."

"Why?" Alistair shot back at him quickly. "Are we under attack?"

"I want to see if you are fit to lead. How can you face the archdemon if you can't face me? Draw your weapon!"

"I don't have to prove anything to you! Now get back in line and let's go. And that," he added quietly, "is an order."

They started walking again, but not before Sten remarked, "So you do have a spine. Pity you don't use it as often as you should."

A/N: There is more of this 'hardened' Alistair in the next chapter. How do you like him so far? :D