Author's Note - First of all, I want to say a heartfelt "Thank You" to everyone who has stuck with my story though it's been a long time since the last post.

Second, just a reminder to all that it has always been my intention to have the characters, not The Blight or any other events that happen in the story, be the main focus of my story. As a result, the latter half of the chapter is devoted to a side story involving Kristoph, the soldier that Loghain assigned to guard Parean. I did this for a few reasons. 1. I felt the story was getting bogged down and needed a jump start. Seven chapters of "A day in the life of Loghain and Parean" was just getting to be too much. 2. As I wrote the conversation between Kristoph and Parean, he was begging me to delve a little into his life. 3. It's a nod to my son who is the original creator of Kristoph. He is working on an original story (not Dragon Age related) about Kristoph and the other characters related to him. The flashback scene and the dialogue with Lenard were written by him. I hope you'll indulge my small deviation from the normal but it was truly inspirational for me to write and my pleasure to collaborate with my son.

Lastly, the story does take a rather dark turn. I'm not aware of any triggers but, be warned, there may be for some of you. That said, I do hope you enjoy the latest installment of my little tale and please feel free to review.

And now...on with the show!

Chapter 26 – The Demands of Duty

Red's coat glistened with sweat in the light of the blazing campfire; his angry snorts piercing the silence that surrounded them. A large log was tethered to his saddle and, spent from carrying Loghain's armor-clad body for the majority of the day, the weary animal's displeasure with this new task was blatantly evident.

Parean stood in front of him, gently tugging on the reins, trying to encourage the annoyed horse to move. "Come on boy. It's just a bit farther," she cooed softly.

Loghain smacked Red's hindquarters with a firm slap, "Move!"

Surprised by Loghain's strike, Red jumped forward a few steps, his tired muscles straining under the weight of the log. Laying his ears back in irritation, Red let out a loud whinny and kicked his hind leg toward Loghain.

"That will be quite enough of that," Loghain muttered as he moved to stand next to Parean. "We'll be here all night if you insist on coddling him."

"I'm not coddling him," Parean protested, "but I don't see what will come of being harsh with him."

Loghain sighed heavily, "You do not have to be harsh…simply firm. You must make him understand who is master."

Parean stared into the horse's eyes and, giving the reins a sharp tug, spoke with as much authority as she could manage, "Come Red! You will move this log!"

Red's only response was to lower his head and snort in her face.

Bursting into a fit of laughter, Loghain weakly choked out, "Well, I guess we now know who is master."

"Very funny," Parean scowled at Loghain as she wiped the slimy mucus from her face. "This sodding horse is as infuriating and obstinate as you!"

His laughter finally subsiding, he took the reins from her hands, "Here, allow me to show you how it's done." He turned away from Red and began to walk forward, applying steady pressure on the reins, "Come on boy. Let's get this done."

Parean snickered loudly, her expression beaming in satisfaction when Loghain came to an abrupt halt as Red firmly held his ground.

Loghain turned to face the stubbornly unyielding animal. Their eyes were narrow and hard as human and beast glared at each other in evenly matched defiance. Neither one was willing to be the first to back down. "You will do as I say!" The harsh growl slithered through Loghain's firmly clenched teeth as he grasped the reins close to the bit and gave an authoritative pull.

Red thrashed his head and snorted in protest, leaning his massive weight back on his hind legs to pull against the tension on his bit.

Exhausted from the trying events of the day, Loghain was in no mood to tolerate Red's willful disobedience. Holding out the ends of the reins, he snapped them in the air with a loud 'CRACK'. Red jumped in surprise as Loghain barked, "I said move!" Outmatched, Red reluctantly conceded and Loghain was finally able to guide the now compliant horse forward until the log rested before the fire.

Loghain felt Parean's gaze on his back as he untied the straps securing the log to Red's saddle. An air of smug, self-satisfied triumph radiated from her, punctuated by her quiet, intermittent grunts. 'She's failing quite miserably at trying not to laugh.' Tossing the straps aside, he turned to face the smirking mage with a frustrated groan, "And what, pray tell, do you find so amusing?"

Parean's eyes were alight with mirth and her body shook slightly from the effort of holding in her laughter. All she was able to manage in response was a tightly controlled, "Nothing…nothing at all"; her voice nothing more than a high-pitched squeak. She took several deep breaths to bring herself under control before continuing, "Thank you for, as you said, showing me 'how it's done'. It was truly inspiring."

"I got the job done, did I not?" Flashing a sarcastic smirk of his own, he quipped "Thanks to me, your precious, tender arse will not be subjected to the cold, hard ground."

Clasping her hands together, she held them up to her chest, "Oh thank you, milord!" Her countenance glowed with mock sincerity. "It would have been dreadfully uncomfortable to stand all evening. What would I ever do without you?" She stared at him, eyes wide with feigned admiration, "And such a superb display of command! I am forever in awe of your many talents. Andraste has truly blessed me with the chance to learn at the foot of the master."

Loghain shook his head gently and heaved an exasperated sigh, "You are simply impossible." Wanting desperately to end the conversation, he turned away from her and took Red's reins, "I'm going to put him away for the evening." His cool tone made no pretense of hiding his irritation with her. "Don't you have something useful to do? I am fairly certain that our evening meal will not prepare itself."

"As you say, Ser," she chuckled. "Perhaps you should stand over me with the horsewhip, just to be certain that I complete my task correctly."

As he walked toward the makeshift stable, he caustically muttered to her from over his shoulder, "Do not tempt me."

The peaceful night air was cool and crisp and a gentle breeze floated through the forest. Lost in his thoughts, Loghain hardly noticed the rustling of the leaves or the rhythmic sound of crickets softly chirping in the distance. To the casual observer, the atmosphere was idyllic in its serenity; a beautiful world still ripe with possibility. When Loghain looked at the world, he saw only the underlying threats to his beloved country. The looming Blight that was slowly consuming everything in its path, the ever present threat posed by Orlais, the traitorous actions of Rendon Howe that risked bringing about a civil war; he saw nothing but mounting dangers at every turn.

A brooding melancholy flooded his heavy heart as he worked to remove Red's saddle. "At times it would seem that there is no solace to be found in all of Thedas."

With his saddle gone, Red breathed in long and deep then snorted in satisfaction as he shook the dust from his body.

Loghain stood in silent reflection on his life and the bitter resentment that had ravaged his soul for more than thirty years rushed to the forefront. Maric had been his only confidant and since his passing five years ago, Loghain had not spoken of his feelings to anyone. With no one around to hear, he openly vented his aggression. "So many problems to solve, and who is it that everyone runs to seeking resolutions?" He gave a loud huff and waved his hands in the air with frustrated anger, "Me! That's who…" His face contorted in disgust; the scornful tone in his voice echoing through the trees as he spat, "The Hero of River Dane!" He let out a morose sigh, "No one seems to realize that 'The Hero of River Dane' was a young man who fought in a war over a lifetime ago. Why come to me? I am but one man and an old one at that…well past my prime."

Seeking to satisfy his craving for an outlet, he hurled a rock into the forest, "Damn you Maric! I never wanted this life nor these cursed responsibilities!" His mind paraded through an imagined timeline of how his life should have been, "I am no noble…no great man…no hero. My life was to be lived tending my father's farm; teaching my children and grandchildren to plant and harvest." An image of Anora, her belly swollen with his expectant grandchild, flashed through his thoughts, "I should be with my daughter as she celebrates one of the most important events in her life. But where am I instead, you ask?" he shouted into the vast emptiness, "I'll tell you where…duty has me traipsing around Thedas in an attempt to defeat an insurmountable force by begging for aid from oblivious fools." A dark, spiteful veil shrouded his eyes over the idea of what he was missing. "I will perish for those same fools and never see my grandchild because Ferelden, once again, needs its sodding nursemaid!"

Deep-set animosity threatened to push him beyond his limits. At that moment, Loghain uttered the words he never dreamed he would say, "Hear me Ferelden! I have had my fill of saving you from the brink of disaster! I have given more than my share to your service and it is never enough. You always demand more and more of me. What will you do when I am gone and there is no one for you to cower behind? Perhaps it is time that I let you stand on your own and allow The Maker to sort out your fate."

Parean stood a short distance behind him, listening to his rant in stunned silence. Tears spilled down her cheeks as he gave voice to the frustration and anguish that had plagued his troubled life. Her heart broke for him; each painful and sorrow-filled word piercing her to the core. Unable to hold herself back any longer, she approached him with soft, careful steps and wrapped her arms around his waist. His body tensed for a moment then slowly he relaxed and gently rested his hands on hers. Above all else, she wanted to comfort him and heal the wounds that festered deep inside. She wanted to say something reassuring; that she would give anything to see him happy, but all she could manage was a whispered, "I'm so sorry," her voice cracking sharply from the depth of her emotion.

Loghain gave her hands a tender squeeze then turned to face her. He stared at her for a long moment, cupping her cheeks in his hands and brushing away her tears with a gentle stroke of his fingers. Gazing into her clear blue eyes, brimming with love and sympathy for him, his heart ached, not from love but from sadness. 'I stand here, holding the woman I love and all I can see is yet another joy in my life that I must sacrifice to my duty.' Taking her in his arms, he held her close as he wove his fingers into her hair, "For what, beloved?"

"For the heavy burden placed upon you." She pressed her lips to his with a tender kiss. "It's unfair that you are expected to do so much yet it would seem that no one appreciates what you have done and continue to do for them." A thought struck her, "Loghain, let's leave." She shook her head at his look of surprise and silent protest, "No, you said yourself that Ferelden should stand on its own and you are correct. Perhaps it should live or die by the actions of its own people."

The mere thought of running away with her gave Loghain pause for a brief moment, "And where would we run to?"

"Anywhere that is not here," she said with an exaggerated sweep of her hand. "Antiva or Rivain. Tevinter…we can go to Tevinter. Mages are an accepted part of the citizenry and you would finally be able to shed the curse of 'The Hero of River Dane'".

"And what of the Blight? Do you truly believe Alistair capable enough to kill the Archdemon as the sole Warden in Ferelden?"

"Do you truly believe that we three alone can end the Blight?" Her somber expression affirmed the futility she felt over their appointed task. "Riordan was infinitely more skilled and experienced as a Warden than we, and he was killed in a small Darkspawn raid. How well can the three of us possibly fair against a Darkspawn horde led by the Archdemon?"

Loghain pulled her close, "We can and we will."

Dwelling on their plight served only to increase Parean's frustration and brought to mind a question that she had not considered. "According to Duncan and Riordan, the Blight has been confirmed, so why has there been neither word nor aid sent from Weisshaupt? You are a commander of armies, is it not reasonable to believe that the First Warden, as the leader of the Grey Wardens, would send reinforcements?"

'In truth, I have often wondered that myself,' Loghain thought in silent reflection. Hoping to quell the rise of her heightened emotional state, he spoke in what he hoped would be a reassuring manner, "I am certain that the First Warden is doing all he can to…"

"The First Warden is a tottering old fool." Parean interjected with a low growl. "He cares more about his political position in the Anderfels than about those who are in his charge. In trying to secure his own political power, his actions are contrary the very core of the Grey Warden edict of neutrality."

Loghain was well aware that he would not prevail in the quickly escalating argument and let out a resigned sigh, "Parean, this is a pointless discussion."

Parean's pale flesh flared bright red at what she perceived to be an insensitive and flippant remark, "Pointless, is it? It's pointless for me to feel thoroughly disgusted with the cowardice of a people who are unwilling to defend themselves and would prefer that we, instead, fight and die to save them? It's pointless for me to question the ineptitude and morals of a leader who refuses to lead when it conflicts with his own selfish goals?"

"Beloved," he began, taking a deep breath to calm his own erratic emotions, "your feelings on the matter are not pointless to me; trying to make sense of the situation is, however. You've no idea of how tempting it is for me to run off with you and leave this all behind."

Her awkward smile was barely visible on her lips and a slight glint of hope flashed in her eyes, "Then let's do it, Loghain. We have so little time left before we perish, whether from the Blight or our eventual journey to the Deep Roads for our Calling. I do not wish to spend our short lives fighting a hopeless battle. I want to spend it with you, my love, basking in the happiness we have found together."

Loghain reached out to cup her cheek and Parean's heart skipped a beat at the tender touch of his hand on her skin. A cold, numbing wave of disappointment flowed through her at the look of sadness in his eyes. She knew what he was going to say before he opened his lips to utter the words.

"No matter how much we may wish it, we cannot shirk our duty."

As quickly as it came, the light of hope in her eyes died out, "To the Void with duty and your infuriating, irrational obsession with it!" With an overly exaggerated movement, she roughly swatted his hand from her face. Her countenance grew cold and she glared at him with eyes that burned with resentment, "And what of our duty to our love? Is that of no consequence?"

Loghain felt the tightening of his heart at her anguished expression as she turned from him, stormed across the camp and disappeared into the tent. 'And this is why I tried to resist expressing my love for you. I did not wish to hurt you, beloved.' Not wishing to disturb her further, Loghain prepared himself for the long, sleepless night on watch.

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The heavy, morose atmosphere that surrounded the Palace seemed disconcertingly similar to when they had first arrived in Denerim, with one small but significant difference. The flags bearing the heraldry of Denerim and the Theirin family had been replaced with a lone black flag that fluttered silently in the gentle breeze.

"Welcome back General Loghain and Warden Parean," Kristoph greeted them with a bow as they climbed the stone steps toward the Palace doors. "I wish your return was under more pleasant circumstances."

Loghain feared that there had been another attempt on Anora's life though he kept his tone coolly neutral, "What's happened, Kristoph?"

"The King and Queen wish to discuss that very matter with you, General. They have given strict orders that no one is to speak of it until they meet with you." Kristoph opened the massive palace door and motioned for the pair to enter, "You shall most likely find them in the War Room."

"I'll leave you to your meeting." Parean offered a quick and noticeably stiff salute. "Warden Commander." Without another word, she made her way into the Palace.

Her brisk manner came as no surprise to Loghain. "That will be all. Return to your duties."

"As you command." Kristoph bowed in salute then turned to follow Parean. He halted mid-step when Loghain grabbed his shoulder.

"Stay at a distance but keep a weather eye on her, Kristoph." Loghain's slight smirk went unseen by Kristoph. "In her current state of mind, Maker only knows what she'll do." His mind ran through a quick gamut of possibilities, 'I pity anyone who dares trifle with her today.'

His posture straightened and the heels of his highly polished boots clicked together as Kristoph's body swiveled around to face his commander. "Of course, General Loghain. You can be assured that no harm will befall her while I live."

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Parean paced in circles to-and-fro across the floor of her bedchamber. A small fire ball ignited and extinguished in rhythm with the opening and closing of her hand. The weighty tension infused in her nervous energy seemed to permeate the air around her. "No matter how much we may wish it, we cannot shirk our duty. That's your answer to everything! Oh, how well you hide yourself behind the shield of duty!" Overwhelmed with the depth of her anger, she hurled an ice ball at the door, "Curse you, Loghain Mac Tir! Curse the day I ever met you!" She jumped with a start as the door flung open and Kristoph, sword at the ready, rushed inside.

Kristoph surveyed the room in search of any signs of danger. Finding none, he brought his gaze to rest on Parean, "What happened, Warden? It sounded as though something hit the door."

Embarrassed by her childish action, Parean's face shone a brilliant crimson, "Everything is fine, Kristoph. I simply needed an outlet for my frustration." Her upturned lips hinted at a smile as she chuckled, "Fortunately, I had the presence of mind to throw an ice ball at the door instead of a fire ball."

He gave a slight chuckle in return, "Yes, Warden. I am quite certain that the King and Queen would not be very pleased with you if you burned their Palace to the ground in a fit of pique."

"No, I don't suppose they would be," she replied quietly.

"Forgive my brashness, Warden, but…are you all right?"

Her smile warmed at his show of concern, "No, I'm not…but I will be, in time."

The sound of a quiet "ahem" drew their attention to where Natira stood patiently waiting for them to notice her entrance, "Excuse me for interrupting, my lady. I was told that you had returned and I came to see if you needed anything."

"Nothing right now. Thank you, Natira. Except…," she stared at Natira with barely contained anticipation, "has there been any word?"

"Yes, my lady. The silv…" Natira glanced over at Kristoph.

"It's all right," Parean assured her. "Please continue, Natira."

"As you say. The silversmith sent word that your item is completed."

Parean reached out and hugged Natira in excitement, "Thank you! That is wonderful news! We will leave for the Alienage as soon as…"

There was a loud clanking of armor as a guard rushed into the room, "Ser Kristoph! An important message for you, Ser!"

Kristoph waited for the breathless man to continue, "Well, Lenard, out with it. What is this message?"

Lenard hesitated for a moment, uneasy about explaining the situation in the presence of Parean and Natira, then did as he was told, "Sergeant Kylon of the City Guard is requesting aid with a situation at The Gnawed Noble Inn. His men are refusing to enter as they believe there are people bearing the Taint inside."

"Gather some men and meet me in the courtyard in five minutes!" Kristoph took no notice of Lenard's hasty salute and departure. His eyes were wide and his skin was ashen as the color drained from his face, "I must leave immediately, Warden. I will send someone to guard you until I return."

Parean's mind began to race in the confusion, "What do you mean that you must leave? Loghain will be furious if you abandon your post."

"I…I must get…to the inn," his words sounded empty and disjointed.

His eyes held a look of desperation that began to seep into his voice, "My family…my wife and son…when the Darkspawn threatened Gwaren, I brought them to Denerim. They are staying at the inn. I must…"

"Go! Now!" Parean interjected. "Help your family. I will deal with Loghain if the need arises." She firmly pushed him towards the door, "You must hurry!"

Shaken from his stupor by her prodding, he gave her a quick nod, "Thank you, Warden," then ran out of the room to meet his men.

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'Darkspawn! The Darkspawn are here!'

'We are doomed! The Maker has truly forsaken us!'

'Why is the City Guard doing nothing to stop this?'

'They are more concerned with avoiding the Taint than protecting the citizenry.'

'Will no one help those people?'

Kristoph and his men pushed their way through the crowd. The scene at the inn was more horrific than his had imagined. Men and women were screaming at the guards to do something, anything, to help those inside. The hysterical crying of children rose above the din of the throng as they clung to anyone who offered protection. The desperate, guttural voices within as the dying begged for help made Kristoph's blood run cold. 'Maker, no! Delilah! Gregor! I must get to them!' A young boy gripped his arm, frantically tugging on it, trying to get his attention. He recognized the boy immediately. "Gregor!" Kristoph reached down and scooped his son up into his arms.

"Papa!" Gregor wrapped his arms around his father's neck. "Papa! You're here! You came back!"

"Gregor," Kristoph forced himself to remain calm, "where is your mother?"

"She's still inside, papa! She told me to climb out of the window and run away when the bad men came!" Gregor tried to wriggle out of his father's grasp to no avail. "Please, papa! You have to save momma!"

Kristoph set Gregor on his feet, "Gregor, this is important." His voice was authoritative yet gentle, "Who are the bad men? Have you seen them before?"

Gregor shook his head, "Yes. Before I ran away, I heard momma yell 'Zorban!' That's the name of the sick man momma has been trying to help get better while you were stuck in the Palace. She got sick and couldn't go see him anymore then he came here with the other bad men." He grabbed Kristoph's hand and began pulling him toward the inn. "Come, papa! You have to save her!"

Kristoph followed his son through the crowd to the front of the inn.

"Momma! Papa is here to save you! Please come out! Momma…Please!"

The wooden doors of the inn burst open as a woman charged out and stood gaping at the crowd. It took several moments before Kristoph recognized her and he gasped, "Delilah…" Her skin was mottled with dark patches of decaying flesh. Large clumps of her hair and scalp were missing and the blood drained from the gaping wounds to soak the few remaining strands of her long golden blonde hair. She stared at those gathered around; her dull, lifeless green eyes were tinged with an unnerving ghastly white. "The song…" she muttered in a raspy, almost inhuman voice, "I hear…the song…so…beautiful…"

"Momma!" Gregor ripped his hand from Kristoph and ran to his mother. "Momma!" He wrapped his arms around her waist in a tight hug.

Delilah let out a menacing growl as those nearest to her tried to pull Gregor away. She reached down and lifted him up to eye level, staring into his eyes with what appeared to be a curious fascination.

Gregor giggled with excited glee, "Everything will be good now! You and papa and me are all together again!" He looked into her eyes with all the adoration a child can express to a beloved parent, oblivious to what his mother had become. "I love you, momma!"

Those gathered around watched in shocked disbelief as Delilah suddenly shrieked and tossed Gregor through the air. He landed on the ground with a sickening 'thud', completely motionless. She turned her attack on those within her reach. Kylon saved Gregor from being trampled by the frenzied crowd as Kristoph reluctantly drew his sword and cleaved her head from her shoulders.

"NO! OH MAKER, NOOO!" Kristoph dropped to his knees in pure, unbridled anguish. "Delilah…" he choked through his gut-wrenching sobs, "please forgive me, my love." His soldiers formed a ring around him to keep the crowd at bay.

Kylon carried the broken form of Gregor to where Kristoph sat and laid his still, lifeless body next to Delilah. "I am truly sorry for your loss, Ser Kristoph. Were the situation not dire, I would leave you to your mourning, but we must attend to the others still inside."

Kylon's words fell on deaf ears as Kristoph gathered the bodies of his wife and son in his arms, cradling them gently, "Why? Maker, why?"

Lenard ordered several men to remain outside with Kristoph then motioned for Kylon to follow, "He is lost to us. Come, we'll go inside and finish this."

Kristoph stared at the bodies of his wife and son. The memory of the last night they spent together at their home in Gwaren flashed through his mind.

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As Kristoph walked back toward his home, his mind raced trying to find the best way to tell his family about his coming departure. How was he going to explain what the Battle at Ostagar would mean? If the reports that General Loghain had received were true, how could they possibly hope to defeat the Darkspawn horde with so few men and only a hand full of Grey Wardens? They would likely be struck down before even laying eyes upon the main force of the horde, but it seemed they had little choice in the matter.

When his home came into view he paused and let out a deep sigh to steady his nerves. Kristoph saw Delilah silently watching Gregor playing outside. He frowned as the thought of not being able to come back to them swelled in his mind, but he had to go even if that meant he wouldn't return. With a determined nod, he headed toward his family, ready to tell them the news.

Gregor spotted his father walking towards their home and ran to greet him. The two came together in a tender hug. Tears welled up in Kristoph's eyes as the thought of leaving his little boy behind entered his mind.

Delilah saw her husband's sad eyes and a worried expression spread across her features. Placing her hand on his shoulder she asked, "What is the matter? Did something happen on your walk?" Her tone was gentle and filled with concern.

Kristoph set his hand on hers, looked up at her, and nodded. "Yes, something happened. Come, let us go inside and I will tell you of it". They went inside and sat in the wooden chairs that surrounded the dining table. Kristoph told his family of the orders he had received from General Loghain.

"You can't go! What would become of you if you went? What would become of us?" Delilah was furious, but more over she was terrified that if he left, he would never come back.

Kristoph gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "I have to go, Delilah. Nothing would please me more than to stay here with you and Gregor, but alas it cannot be so". His voice broke as he spoke and his eyes once again filled with tears.

She lowered her head and gave a slight nod. "Do what you believe you must", she said softly, tears falling from her face.

"Come, let our last hours together be those of happiness and not of woe", he said as he stood from his chair.

They went down to swim and fish in the lake near their home. They played a game of Blind Man's Bluff then sat in the soft grass and watched the sun go down over the water. The sky turned a beautiful orange and yellow color on the horizon, while the water shimmered brilliantly as the small waves caught the last rays of light. When they returned home they had a feast for Kristoph before retiring for the night.

Kristoph was the only one who could not sleep. His mind continued to race, keeping him awake, so he watched his family as they lay sleeping. "I will make this world safe for them once again. I have to," he thought as he sat with his back against the wall. He quietly slipped out of bed so as not to wake Delilah and went outside. Leaning against the side of his home, he stared at the moon and thought of what was to come. He tried to formulate some sort of plan, but they all ended in the same way; with his death. He resigned himself to think about it more on his journey and went back inside.

When Delilah woke she saw that Kristoph was already in his armor, with his sword strapped to his hip and his shield on his back. "Certainly you did not plan to leave us so early?" Her voice held a hint of confusion.

He couldn't look at her and instead continued staring out of the window next to the entryway. "No, I did not anticipate leaving until I had a chance to say my farewells. I… I just wanted to be ready for when it was time". His head lowered as he glanced over at his wife and smiled.

Before long Gregor awoke to a light shining on him. He groaned in irritation at his sleep being interrupted and then he rose to be greeted by the solemn faces of his parents.

They ate their last meal together in a strained silence then gathered outside of the home to say their farewells. Kristoph kneeled down in front of Gregor and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. "You are a fine young man, and you have always made me proud. I know I can count on you to take care of your mother and keep the both of you safe. I love you son." With that he hugged Gregor as though he would never let him go.

"And you, my lovely wife," he said as he stood up and looked into her eyes. "I have known no greater joy in my life than in the years that I have spent with you and our son. You have truly made me the happiest man this land has ever known. Every day that I am gone, I will think of the both of you, until the day we defeat the Darkspawn and I return home to you. I will return my love, of that you have my word." He embraced Delilah, tears streaming down his face and soaking into the shoulder of her dress.

Gregor hugged his still embraced parents and they wrapped their arms around him. All three of them cried knowing that it was time for Kristoph to depart.

He backed away from his family, his wife and son still in each other's arms. "I do not know when I will return". His voice was shallow and uneven.

"Just make certain that you do return," she said, walking up to Kristoph as she removed her necklace. "Take this, and when you have finished your deed, come home to us." She placed the necklace in the palm of his hand, closed his fingers around it and gave him a slow, tender kiss on his lips.

He gave her a nod then slid the necklace over his head. The pendant, bearing Delilah's family crest, glistened in the early morning light. 'I will return to you, my love'. He gazed upon his family and, with one last sad smile; he turned and made his way to join General Loghain at Gwaren's Keep.

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"Ser Kristoph. Ser Kristoph!"

Kristoph was jolted from his reverie as Kylon gruffly shook his shoulder. "Wh…what do you want of me?"

"We have cleared the inn. Most of those bearing the Taint are dead, though some did escape. I'm sorry to report that the one your son mentioned, Zorban, is among those that ran off. We have guards searching for them but finding them is not promising." Kylon paused to give Kristoph time to absorb the information before continuing, "I have sent a messenger to Kinloch Hold, requesting healers for the injured. We suffered many losses in our ranks, including…" His voice trailed off as his collected himself, breathing a heavy sigh. "Including your second, Lenard. He yet lives but…I don't believe he will last until the healers arrive." Kylon regretted bringing unwanted news to a man already burdened with more grief than a man should bear. "If you wish to speak with him, Ser, I would humbly suggest you do so quickly."

Kristoph could not believe what he heard. 'First, my wife kills our son and then I am forced to slay my wife. Now, I am to lose my friend as well?' He looked up at Kylon, his eyes were red and swollen as tears still flowed down his cheeks, "But…I can't leave Delilah…and Gregor."

Kylon rested a gentle hand on Kristoph's shoulder, "I will see that they are properly attended to. Please Ser; you must go now."

Kristoph entered the inn and the stench of rotting flesh, fresh blood and gore nearly overwhelmed him. The majority of the people inside were dead; many with massive slicing wounds as though they had been clawed by a wild animal. He carefully stepped over the dead and the wounded, searching for Lenard's body. He caught sight of the tainted men, their flesh still festering and continuing to slough off even in death.

"Help me…please…someone…help me."

It was Lenard's voice, small and wavering, calling out for help. Kristoph saw him a few feet away; he was badly wounded and had lost most of his left arm, but he was still alive. When he reached Lenard, he saw the full extent of the soldier's wounds. There were shallow cuts on his chest and large gaping slashes that had hit vital organs in his abdomen. Lenard coughed violently and bright red blood splattered over his face. The blood mixed with his sweat causing his hair to adhere to his chilled flesh. He carefully lifted the dying man's head and rested it on his lap.

Lenard slowly opened his eyes and saw Kristoph kneeling beside him. He asked weakly, "D-did we win, Ser?"

Looking down at the dying man, Kristoph nodded his head and replied softly, "Yes son, we won. Now, get some rest."

Lenard smiled up at Kristoph and quietly faded away.

"You were a good soldier, my friend, and you didn't deserve this. May you find peace in your eternal rest." Kristoph gently set Lenard's head on the ground. A shuffle of footsteps drew his attention as two soldiers came to a halt in front of him. "He's gone." Kristoph stood and watched as the soldiers carefully lifted Lenard's body, took it outside of the inn, and placed it with the rest of the fallen.

After receiving reassurance from Kylon that matters were well in hand, feeling both emotionally and physically drained, he willed himself to return to his duty at the Palace.