They ventured into the ruins cautiously and one of the first thing they noticed was a ghostly child wandering the corridors looking frightened and scared.
"Mamae? Mamae na mara san…"
Sereda watched Theron cautiously approach the ghostly form of the child. He tried speaking to it in elvish.
"Mamae! Mamae! Mamae!" The figure's face showed stark terror, and it ran off screaming. "Mamae! Mamae, se vara sal!"
"I think I got the gist of that," said Daylen. "Mummy, I'm lost."
"I can't find you," Theron finished. He shook its head. "This place is definitely human made, but there are elven artefacts here. It could be that this was a place of refuge for the elves before the Imperium had full control over the land."
"Humans and elves?" said Sereda shocked. "The only time those two races have joined forces was during Andraste's uprising."
"Exactly, maybe there's more history inside this ruin," said Theron.
"For now we need to find the werewolves," said Sereda nodded. "There has to be another way past that door."
"Getting dark soon," Faren muttered.
"Shale and I will stand the first watch," said Sten.
Faren nodded at him. He started to turn around. Then he narrowed his eyes. He scanned the camp. After a moment, he tilted his head to one side. "Sten?"
"Yes?"
"Do you see that keeper fellow anywhere?"
Sten glanced down at him, and then looked around the camp. "I do not."
"That's what I was afraid of."
"Sereda's orders were to guard the camp."
"I know." Faren looked up. "But that doesn't stop me from worrying"
Daylen was about to leave the room when something caught his eye. An elaborately carved gemstone lay partially concealed by the dusty remnants of an old tome. He bent, and took a closer look. Inside appeared to be a pool of blood, rippling slowly as the gem vibrated. He reached down to pick it up.
Memories seemed to flood into him. He saw a city rising amidst a forest, delicately spiralling upwards until the tops of both tree and tower disappeared into the very clouds. An army was on the march, dressed in armour of burnished coppery metal. A griffin took wing from the balcony on one of the towers. And then the memory seemed to recoil from him in fear. New images flooded his mind, imprisonment. Loneliness. An emptiness more profound than when he'd woken without the rage. Who are you? What are you? He directed his thoughts at the presence.
There was a sense of bewilderment, and then a trembling sort of hope as it seemed to reach back out towards him. Real. Another sensation, time, rushing through his mind like a dragon. Time in which to go mad, then sane, then mad again, sleeping between. A mage, in glittering silver armour, seen through the fog of a span of time too great for him to fully comprehend. What is this place? What happened here?
Images slowly formed in response to the question. Serenity. Immortal elves in endless sleep, tribute offered to the gods. Violence. War. Memories jumbled together. He thought a few of them might be his own. War with humans?
Humans had come before. They had built these halls. War. Other humans. More war. The elves and humans who had built the halls laying slaughtered in the ruins. How did you end up in this gem?
Elves and humans screaming, attempting to flee. Terror. Terror of something blurred and lost to the ages. Or perhaps terror of something he simply lacked the foundation to comprehend. Fleeing into the life gem, leaving the body behind. Certainty that someone would come. Rescue. A river of time. A sense of himself touching the gem. Now. You were once a mage?
Images of the elf in silver armour. Mage and warrior. Dirth'ena enaslin. Knowledge that led to victory. Arcane warrior. What is an arcane warrior exactly?
Elven mages, channelling spells into strength. Spell in one hand, sword in the other. An offer. Knowledge. Teach. An offer, a plea. Oblivion. How would I give you the release you seek?
Uncertainty. A stone altar. The gem laid upon the altar. The gem vibrating and exploding. A yearning for death, more keen than any blade. Hopeless. Hope. Hopeless. Hope. Please. Yes, I will try to help you.
Desperation. Searching. Trying to remember where to find the altar. Can't remember. So long ago. Walls new, white and clean. A library. Students gathered around a teacher. The teacher standing behind the altar. I see it.
Emotion. Tremulous hope. The teacher an elf in silver armour. The student an elf in splint mail, eyes turning yellow. A question. Yes, give me your memories.
Knowledge. A flood of images, lessons. Sword in hand, sparing, back and forth. Spells. Overwhelming, sweet pain. Falling into bed after a satisfying bout. Promise. Release. Farewell.
He set the artefact on the stone altar.
Joy. Relief. Oblivion.
He shook his head and blinked. A glance over his shoulder saw Sereda talking to about which direction to go. He looked down at the broken gem laying on the altar. Only seconds had passed, and nobody seemed to have noticed.
He glanced back at Sereda. Maybe he wouldn't mention it to her. She was worried enough already.
Kallian watched in rapt fascination as Theron went through the motions of the ritual. She opened her mouth to ask a question, and felt Elissa hand cover it. She sighed.
He took the jug of water over to the altar. She opened her mouth to ask a question, and Alistair's hand caught her chin and firmly closed it again. She sighed.
Theron knelt, bowing his head in prayer. He picked up the jug, and took a sip of water. Theron knelt back at the fountain, and slowly poured the water back into the pool.
The earthen jug shattered. Slowly, the huge metal door swung open. Alistair and Elissa stood up to re-join the others. Kallian crossed her arms and pouted for a moment before following.
"Viran se lan'aan? Ir annala for ros…" The spirit flowed from one side of the dias to the other. "Nae! Ga rahn s'dael! Ga rahn!"
"Mana. Ir halani," Theron called out to it.
"Ir emah'la shal! Ir emah'la shal!" The shade wailed, then attacked. Theron defended himself, knocking it away with Starfang. It wailed again, and dissolved.
"I'm not sure trying to talk to them is doing any good," said Kallian.
"What did it say?" Sereda asked.
Theron shook his head. "To be honest I'm not entirely sure. But if I had to guess I'd say it asked us how we found this place, that it had been lost for centuries. And then it accused us of…" He sighed as Kallian pushed aside the lid of the sarcophagus to look inside. "Desecrating its grave what are you doing?"
"Looking. Who buries their dead under a tree?"
He closed the lid. "The Dalish."
"Oh."
"Theron?" Alistair called out. "You might want to look at this."
Theron gave Daylen a look, and then walked over to where Alistair was standing. A set of elven armour stood on a rack. It was metal, but it looked almost as though it had been… grown. It actually smelled of fresh grass. He caressed it, and it felt warm to his touch. Alistair grinned at him. "Looks made for you."
"Could do a bit of work, but yes," said Theron. He put the armour into his pack.
"Does anyone else smell…" Daylen started to say.
The dragon landed on the platform in front of them. She spread her wings and hissed before sending a swath of fire their way. They dodged in various directions.
"Dragon shit" Sereda asked. She and Alistair began moving towards the dragon, shields ready, keeping it focused on them as the others started to circle behind. Theron moved behind them, firing arrows.
Kallian started to move in, and the dragon leapt away. It opened its mouth to breath fire at the female elf, who barely managed to dodge and somehow skidded underneath the dragon for stabbing it in the gut.
"Well, that was fun," said Theron.
"Dragon seemed to get everywhere," said Sereda.
"Let's be thankful it wasn't a High Dragon and this time," said Daylen.
Faren shook the sleep out of his head when Sten woke him. He elbowed Zevran, and the elf made a rude gesture before getting up. Sten was already shaking Oghren awake. "Any sign of that keeper fellow?" Faren asked him quietly.
"None," Sten replied.
"Any trouble?"
"Strange as it seems, no."
"Yeah. I know what you mean. This many wounded… why ain't the wolves attacking? I mean if it was me I would attack at night." He shook his head. "Maybe the others have them too busy elsewhere."
"They do display a skill for attracting trouble."
Faren smirked and nodded. "Rest. Be ready to head out after the others at first light."
Theron barely had time to call a warning before two arrows caught him in the chest, and he fell. He saw Alistair move in front of him, and heard more arrows clang off Alistair's shield and breastplate. Sereda and Kallian moved to close as Wynne knelt next to him.
The door on the other side of the corridor broke open, and more of the undead began to pour through. "Sereda," Alistair yelled.
"Got this," said Kallian to her, and she turned back to help Alistair protect the others.
Elissa fought against the corpses that came down the corridor from a room at the end, aided by the spells of Daylen and Morrigan.
Elissa was worn out by the time the last one fell. She sighed, and sat down on the stone floor. "Alistair, hold him," Wynne ordered. Alistair immediately knelt and leaned forward, pinning Theron to the ground. Wynne put her hands on either side of one of the arrows. Her hands glowed with white energy, and she nodded to Daylen. Daylen inhaled, and pulled out the arrow.
Theron cursed in elvish. The two mages repeated the process with the second arrow. Sereda smiled down at the man. "We have got to get you heavier armour."
"Heavier armour would only slow me down," said Theron accepted Alistair's hand up.
"Well, you could try to learn a bit more nimble," said Elissa.
Sereda gave him a concerned look, and then turned to see the mages. Daylen was offering Wynne a lyrium potion. "Daylen, Wynne, do we need to head back?"
"Perhaps it would be…"
"Might not be an option," said Kallian's voice.
"Why not?" Theron asked, and then took a step backwards. "By the Dread Wolf…"
"Interesting choice of words," said Kallian.
In front of them were several werewolves and they looked thirsty for blood. Sereda noticed that they were shifting their gaze mostly upon Theron as if he was a bag of meat.
The werewolves moved towards them. Kallian drew her weapons, a pair of twin swords. Daylen readied his staff. He then blasted them with a fireball which caused them to attack as a pack.
Theron had enough strength to pull out his bow and fire several arrows. He took down about two of them before they were upon them and Sereda and Alistair raise their shields to hold them back while Kallian snuck behind them and stabbing them from the rear. Daylen, Morrigan and Wynne provided support from the rear firing spells and supporting them with their magic.
"That was fun," said Theron as the last of the werewolves fell.
"By fun you mean utterly terrifying then yes it was fun," said Alistair.
"We must be getting close by now," said Sereda.
"If we turned back we will lose the ground we've gained," said Theron.
Despite their injuries and the lack of supplies Sereda had to agree this was their only chance to Witherfang. "We move forward."
"Time to get moving," Faren said as he woke Sten.
Sten picked up his breastplate and began buckling the straps around himself. "The night was peaceful, then?"
"Kinda creepy, really." Faren shook his head. "You know, I think I sorta hate the woods."
Sereda stepped into the next room. Theron and Kallian stood between them and the werewolves. A giant among the wolves, nearly eight feet in height stood on a dais. The other wolves ranged behind him, but he held up a hand to forestall them. "Stop! Brothers and sisters, be at ease! We do not wish any more of our people hurt. I ask you this now, outsider: are you willing to parley?"
"Like you parleyed with the Dalish?" Fury filled Theron's voice.
"Hrrr, that was different." The giant grey werewolf lowered his head, and held out his hands. "The Lady believes that the Dalish have not told you everything, so she has asked that you be brought to her. She means you no harm, provided your willingness to parley in peace is an honest one."
Sereda could see the fury in in Theron eyes and walked up to him. "This may be our only chance to find out what's going on," she whispered.
Reluctantly, Theron nodded. "Then take us to this Lady."
The werewolf nodded slowly. "Follow me. But I warn you, if you break your promise and harm her, I will come back from the Fade itself to see you pay."
Sereda glanced at the others. Their faces were as confused as hers. She narrowed her eyes. Then she sheathed her sword.
The woman was clearly a spirit. Her skin was tinged green, and vines grew up her naked body, forming into hands as they reached the ends of her arms. Her hair flowed down her shoulders like spilled ink.
Daylen could sense something ancient and powerful around her. It was like that she was the forest itself, but it felt as if she was trapped, shackled against her will.
"I bid you welcome, mortal. I am the Lady of the Forest." The Lady's voice was hauntingly beautiful as it echoed through the chamber, sweet as the mother Daylen could barely remember.
"Really?" said Theorn in a disrespectful voice. "You seem more like the Lady of the Ruin to me."
"You will not speak to the Lady in this manner!" Swiftrunner started to surge forward.
"Hush, Swiftrunner. Your urge for battle has seen only the death of the very ones you have been trying to save. Is that what you want?"
The brown werewolf knelt before her, a gesture of respect and adoration. "No, my lady. Anything but that."
"Then the time has come to speak with this outsider, to set our rage aside. I apologize on Swiftrunner's behalf. He struggles with his nature."
"As do we all, Lady," said Sereda.
"Truer words were never spoken. But few could claim the same as these creatures: that their very nature is a curse forced upon them. No doubt you have questions, mortal. There are things that Zathrian has not told you." The lady smiled, descending a few paces down the steps.
"Is that so?" Theron's voice was sceptical. "Such as?"
"It was Zathrian who created the curse that these creatures suffer, the same curse that Zathrian's own people now suffer."
Daylen could see the surprise in Theron's eyes. There were no lies within the lady's voice and even their were she had no reason to lie to them.
The woman continued speaking. "Centuries ago, when the Dalish first came to this land, a tribe of humans lived close this forest. They sought to drive the Dalish away. Zathrian was a young man then." Sereda shot Theron a look. He met her eyes and shook his head, clearly confused. "He had a son and daughter he loved greatly, and while out hunting the human tribe captured them both."
"Hrrr…" Swiftrunner's voice sounded pained and reluctant. "The humans… tortured the boy, killed him. The girl they raped and left for dead. The Dalish found her, but she learned later she was… with child. She… killed herself."
"So Zathrian cursed them, I take it?" Elissa asked.
Swiftrunner looked at her, then nodded slowly. "Zathrian came to this ruin and summoned a terrible spirit, binding it to the body of a great wolf. So Witherfang came to be." He stood. "Witherfang hunted the humans of the tribe. Many were killed, but others were cursed by his blood, becoming twisted and savage creatures…"
"Twisted and savage just as Witherfang himself is," the woman said. "They were driven into the forest. When the human tribe finally left for good, their cursed brethren remained, pitiful and mindless animals."
Swiftrunner gazed at her with enraptured eyes. "Until I found you, my lady. You gave me peace."
She touched his face, a loving, motherly gesture. "I showed Swiftrunner that there was another side to his bestial nature. I soothed his rage, and his humanity emerged. And he brought others to me."
Theron looked very conflicted. "Why did you ambush the Dalish? For revenge?"
A soft sigh escaped the woman. "In part." A note of anger entered her voice. "We seek to end the curse. The crimes committed against Zathrian's children were grave, but they were committed centuries ago by those who are long dead." She shook her head. "Word was sent to Zathrian every time the landships passed this way, asking him to come, but he has always ignored us. We will no longer be denied."
The low growl from Swiftrunner was filled with frustration. "We spread the curse to his people. So he must end the curse to save them."
"Please, mortal…" The woman held out a beseeching hand. "You must go to him. Bring him here. If he sees these creatures, hears their plight… surely he will agree to end the curse."
Sereda sighed. "Why would Zathrian agree to come here alone?"
"If Zathrian comes, I shall summon Witherfang. I possess that power. I also have the power to ensure Witherfang is never found. Tell Zathrian this. If he does not come, if he does not break the curse, he will never find Witherfang, and he will never cure his people."
Sereda looked at Kallian and knew she had been fighting of the disease for some time now. Her skin was pale and she was fidgeting. It was remarkable that she might get this far, but she will be able to last long and the only way to make sure she survive was to bring Zathrian here.
Sereda sighed. "You don't leave me much choice, but I will do as you ask."
The lady nodded and then wandered over to a door. "Outside of this chamber, the passage leading back to the service has been opened for you. Return with Zathrian as soon as you can."
As they left Daylen leaned into whisper in Sereda's ear.
"She's Witherfang."
Sereda was afraid of this. "Then her threat is genuine."
"While I don't agree with her methods I have to say that Zathrian isn't much better," said Kallian clutching her arm.
Sereda noticed that Theron was very quiet. She can only imagine what he was going through, on one hand he wanted to save the clan and while on the other he couldn't let Zathrian get away with what he done. This rescue mission was a lot more complicated than she assumed.
Elissa placed a hand on her sword when she saw the keeper standing at the entrance to the ruins. Either he'd followed them, or he'd known exactly where to find them all along. She glanced at Sereda, and noted the dwarven woman looked absolutely furious. Clearly, their leader had come to the same conclusion.
"Ah. And here you are already," said Zathrian.
"Why am I not surprised to see you here?" Sereda asked, walking towards him.
Zathrian narrowed his eyes. "Did you? Aren't you the intuitive one."
"How did you get here?" Theron asked. "Wouldn't the forest keep you out?"
"I am a keeper, with access to the magic of the ancients. I was never barred from this place."
Morrigan chuckled. "He wishes to see if we did his work for him. Is that not why you are here now, sorcerer?"
"Do not call me that, witch." Despite having called Morrigan that dozens of times, Elissa found herself angry on the other woman's behalf. Zathrian glared. "I am keeper of this clan, and have done what I must. Did you acquire the heart?"
"We need to talk, Hahren," said Theron.
"So you wish to play games, da'len?" Zathrian shook his head. "I can sense you do not have it. Why are you leaving the ruin?"
"To fetch you, and bring you back to the Lady of the Forest," said Sereda.
"Oh? Is that what the spirit calls herself now?"
"You knew?" Theron's eyes widened. "You knew?" He started to step forward, and Alistair grabbed his shoulder. "Ma banal las halamshir var vhen." He shook his head. "Is'ma tel'him."
"Ir abelas, ma suledin…"
"Mana. Hahren, ma ghilana elvhen din'an. Halam sahlin."
"Da'len…"
"Mana. Ma halam. Ma ghilan'him banal'vhen. Ar'din nuvenin na'din. Var halani, sela ar tu na'lin emma mi."
"Ma emma harel, da'len. Dirthara-ma."
"Fen'harel tu ven, era'lin."
Alistair leaned towards Kallian. "Do you have any idea what they're saying?"
Kallian narrowed her eyes. "Do I look like I speak elvish?"
"Not that watching Theron turn you into a greasy smear wouldn't be entertaining," said Sereda. "But the lady is waiting."
"And what does she want with me, if I might inquire?"
"What do you think she wants?" Theron practically spat.
Zathrian shrugged, and eyed Theron with disgust. "To survive, I suspect. That is the common nature amongst all such creatures, the will do survive." He shook his head. "You do understand that…"
"That she is Witherfang?" Theron narrowed his eyes. "Tel garas solasan, harrellan."
"She is the powerful spirit of this ancient forest that I summoned long ago and bound into the body of the wolf." Zathrian shook his head. "Her nature is that of the forest itself. Beautiful and terrible, serene and savage, maiden and beast. She is the Lady and Witherfang both, two sides of a single being. The curse came first from her. Those she afflicted with it mirrored her own nature, becoming savage beast as well as human."
"The curse came first from you," said Theron.
Zathrian clenched his fists and actually took a step towards Theron. "They attacked my clan and they were the same savages that they have ever been. They deserve to be wiped out and not defended." He inhaled, and his face softened. "Come, da'len. I can force the spirit into Witherfang's form. He may then be slain and the heart taken. Help me save our people."
Theron's smile was cold. "The werewolves have regained their minds."
"Even so, they are still the same worthless creatures that their ancestors were. They deserve nothing more than the misery they possess." Zathrian shook his head. "This is not your battle, Grey Warden. Let us just take the heart and be done with it."
"I am making this my fight." Theron said. Elissa found herself filled with a new respect for the man. If she understood Dalish culture at all, he'd just more or less threatened a grand cleric.
"If you do not help me get the heart, then my hunters are not cured and you will get no assistance against the darkspawn."
"Do you still have so much hatred after all this time?"
"You were not there. You did not see what… what they did to my son. To my daughter. And so many others." He shook his head. "You of all people should understand. You lost your parents to bandits! How can you defend these beasts? You know how we must struggle to be safe, how we must fight for justice. I could not let their crimes go unanswered!"
Theron closed his eyes. "Yes I do, but that's no excuse of tormenting them now. You did suffer injustice, but these werewolves had nothing to do with it all those involved are long dead. And right now who's suffering the most?"
Zathrian's face was furious. "Very well. You wish me go and talk? I will do so. But what if it is only more revenge they wish? Will you safeguard me from harm?"
"I will protect you from them."
"Ma serannas," said Zathrian, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
