Origin of Aria: Chapter 18: Zombie Land

It looked as if a battle had been raging in the worn streets of the village of Redcliff for several days. Worn barricades of wood sharpened to a point at the tips had been placed strategically throughout the dirt road a tired and war torn villager lead the group through. It hadn't seemed to help defend against whatever threat had enveloped the people though. The sharpened logs were nicked from weapons, some had fallen loose from their binds and fallen off their stands.

Small fires were being stomped out as the sound of a child crying could be heard in the distance. Aria's hands dangled at her side, clinched into fists as she felt her nails dig into her flesh. The climbing hills and cliff faces that made up the defensible village loomed over the people and blocked out the rare rays of the sun, once more, casting the party in a dreary shadow.

The man that lead them into the village square was too young to be considered middle aged, at least by human standards. Because while elves were just as fragile and mortal as the humans, elves still had the tendency to look as if they were ageless, looking as young as twenty when in fact, they were far older. It was easy to tell a rounded age to humans, they wrinkled easily.

He walked with a limp and Liliana had pointed out he should not be walking on it, sprained or broken. It was hard to tell with his baggy cotton pants that were stained with dirt and blood.

When the party had made it to the bridge that allowed them to cross a wildly rushing body of water this man had been standing there, waiting. The moment he caught Aria's eyes she could see the tension leave his shoulders, there was a weak hope in his tired eyes. News of Redcliff being under constant, nightly attacks had Alistair squirming in his boots, his eyes said 'We need to do something!', though the warrior himself looked about two seconds from rushing the Arl's estate. It looked like it visibly hurt the man to realize that, no, they were not sent by Denerim, or the king, or some worried noble. Just a rag tag group passing through in need of speaking to the mysteriously fallen Arl, locked away in his castle, ill.

It didn't take much convincing though, to hand out their assistance to the weakened village and despite Sten's clear disapproval of her pointless hand holding of the frightened human she convinced him the only way they could truly accomplish what they planned to do here counted on making sure the people of Redcliff survived another night.

Yet, with all that the villager had informed them of, nightly attacks, ghastly figures and the smell of death that would drag horrified peasants to their end. Aria was not prepared for the condition they were met with of both the village and people as the man lead them to the only sanctuary fortified to withstand the continuous attacks. The Chantry.

The ground at their feet was nothing but dry dirt, their footsteps kicking up dust. They avoided the darker patches, they looked like drying blood, it probably was and it made their stomachs clench in dread. Liliana watched an older woman drag along two small children that were clinging to her tattered skirts as if their life depended upon it. And in reality, it probably did. There were blood splatters that looked like many had been dragged away after collapsing.

Alistair had to look away to a line of village men, one as old as sixty practicing his aim with a bow and arrow. None seemed to be holding it right and the rogue of the party grasped at her own bow with a strained look. Sten's scowl had not left his face even once, opting to keep his attention to their guide than the pitiful humans that hung on with no pride in their shaky steps.

More barricades had been set up around the village square; however, much of it had been scorched with fire. Its corners still burning for there was no one to put it out.

Aria covered her mouth at the putrid stench of burning flesh and death that hung over the people and its buildings. It stung at her eyes as she blinked. It reminded her of the fires set at Ostagar. The only reprieve she had was the distinct lack of screaming exchanged for muffled sobs of the wounded.

The cabins and shops were in shabby condition, windows boarded up and shutters were being peeked through by frightened civilians as the group passed weathered farmers and young men that Sten and Alistair both knew did not have a single trained warrior in their ranks. Their guide had the same untrained quality in the way he fiddled with the hilt of his rusted old sword. It was improperly cared for and had dried blood stains around the blade. It was a warriors disgrace.

Their first steps into the Chantry were hollow and sounded as if they were the only noise to be heard for miles in the stifling, unnerving silence of the villagers that watched them with an emotion deep within their tired eyes that Aria could only wish to identify. She looked back at the people, the injured and the sick as they handled their makeshift weapons unsurely or slouched in early defeat or acceptance of their certain demise. The human children with their round ears and hollow eyes stared up at her as if she were their wished and sought upon savior in their daily nightmare. It scared her. Scared her so bad that the mage could feel a lump in her throat try to choke her as the panic spread in her.

Before the door to the Chantry could close on her and block out those desperate, silent screams for help, a child who had been hiding behind the heels of a sallow looking sister ran to her with no regard.

The aged woman gasped in shock as she watched the dirty thing latch onto Aria's leg, their knuckles turning white as their nails dug into her leather pants. Aria tensed, her back straight as a lamp post as her companions halted when they heard her footsteps falter.

The eyes of the haunted child stared up at her, no words were spoken, all the villagers tense and high strung as they watched the scene unfold. A human child clinging to the legs of an elven woman wearing nothing but torn scraps of clothing two sizes too big and with bandages wrapped around their head and legs.

Gaping in a show of just how unsure she was to handle this the sister stepped forward, her arms held out as if wanted to beckon the child back to her side, away from the strange elf decked out in far more leathers than any of the men currently dropping their own weapons in tense confusion. However, still caught in the child's chilling gaze, Aria held out a hand to halt the woman without a sound and gently placed a hand on the child's skinny arm.

The people and her party watched in rapt attention as slowly, the elf unhinged the little boy's hands off her leg to kneel down and catch his eyes on more equal ground. Shakily, Aria gave the boy a smile.

"What's your name Da'len?" she asked.

"W-Weber, are you here to save us?" he pleaded; his hands that still lay in her grasp clinched her dainty fingers. Aria chose not to answer him just yet.

"Weber? I like your name, you can call me Aria. Weber, where are your Mamae, you mother?" she asked softly, letting the boy cling to her hands as he bit his chapped lips. But the sister answered for him.

"H-His mother was taken from him in the last attack, he is an orphan now…"

Aria looked up at the woman, then to her companions, all with differing looks of concern or indifference. Morrigan looked awkward as she tried to shuffle further into the Chantry, eyes pointedly not looking at the scene she and the child were making of themselves. Turning back to the boy, her brown eyes softened, bringing a hand to his smudged cheek to wipe away the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. He looked at her in rapt attention, it made her heart squeeze.

Looking at the other children not too far from them, all hiding behind the sister, with the outstretched hands, she bit her lip. They were all much younger than Weber.

"It must have been scary, Da'len," Aria pet the boy's cheek with her thumb as she spoke. "But I am sure your mother is happy that you made it through, isn't that right?"

Slowly, the boy nodded, sniffling a little as the tears returned full force, she murmured few words in a soothing elvish lilt, there was little chance he knew what she said, but they sounded like what she remembered her mother saying to her when night would fall and she felt scared.

"And…and now my friends and I are here. We will end this nightmare, and you will be safe." She breathed, she gave him a brisk nod before the hands left hers to wrap around her neck in a strong hug. Aria, not expecting such an action wasn't sure what to do but pat the boy's head until he released her with a watery smile that she returned before Liliana helped her back to her feet. Both women watched with heavy hearts as the Weber joined the smaller children, then the villagers, before turning back to the Chantry and disappearing behind their closed doors without another word.

Walking down the hall to the sanctuary showed the people inside seeking refuge were no better off than the people outside this moment. A young woman sobbed frantically about her missing little brother and many more prayed for an end to their suffering.

They approached a tall, broad shouldered man with red hair and a sword and shield strapped to his back. Alistair got a strange look to his eyes as the man glanced their way before sending off the person they had been talking to.

"You're…Tomas, right?" he asked and cast Aria and her group a questioning glance. Alistair nearly choked as he inhaled sharply.

"Who are these strangers? Too well armored to be a simple travelers, that's for sure."

"I met with them at the front of the town, I thought it best to bring them to you." Tomas admitted. The man, who seemed to be in charge nodded.

"I see, good work then Tomas," He turned to Aria. "My name is Teagan, the Bann of Rainsfere, brother to the Arl." He introduced.

"I remember you, Bann Teagan," Alistair gave a strained look as Aria turned to watch him, moving so that he was in sight of the Bann. "Though, last time we met I was a lot younger…and covered in mud." He snorted as if remembering a fond memory. Bann Teagan squinted his eyes in confusion before leaning in just slightly to look closer at the blonde warrior.

"Covered in mud?...Alistair? It is you, isn't it? You're alive?" Teagan gasped, but nonetheless looking pleased.

"This is wonderful news!" his hands found Alistair's armored ones as the Warden gave the man a sarcastic smile.

"Still alive, yes, though not for long if Teyrn Loghain has anything to say about it." Alistair sighed.

"Indeed," Teagan agreed, "Loghain would rather us believe all Grey Warden's died along with my nephew, amongst other things."

"You don't believe in Loghain's lies?" Aria spoke up just then, she would have assumed most had believed the nobleman's words seeing as he now stood at the thrown. Props to the Bann for not looking surprised as she interrupted and answer her with a coarse sound and a sharp shake of his head, as if it was stupid to believe the words of Loghain to be truth.

"What, that he pulled his men in order to save them? That Cailan risked everything in the name of glory? Hardly." He scoffed at her.

"Loghain calls the Grey Warden's traitors and murderers of the king! I don't believe it. It is an act of a desperate and delusional man, blinded by the true threat to our soil." He ended his rant with a self-conscious cough as if realizing who he was talking to and looked more closely at her. Aria tried not to fidget.

"Sorry, you ah…You are a Grey Warden too, I assume."

Aria nodded.

"I am, I was conscripted not long before the battle at Ostagar."

Bann Teagan held out his hand as he straightened his back in a more diplomatic greeting than at the start of this conversation. Politely, the elf took his hand and they shook.

"Then it is a pleasure to meet you. Though I wish it were under much better circumstances."

"Speaking of, we were hoping to get an audience with the Arl." Liliana murmured.

"Yes, we wanted to see if there was any way he could support us against the Blight." Aria agreed.

"But…" Alistair eyed Teagan with such palpable concern. "Is what I heard from one of his soldiers in Lothering true? Is Eamon sick?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Teagan bowed his head as Morrigan clicked her tongue.

"How convenient." She muttered, Sten nodded in agreement.

"No one has heard from the castle in days. And I haven't seen a single guard patrol the walls and I can't get so much as a 'Hi' from just shouting at the top of my lungs. The attacks only started a few nights ago…evil things surged from the castle. We've driven them back, but many of the locals have perished, as you probably saw outside there were more homes than people living in them."

"These 'evil things', what are they really?" Aria asked. Teagan looked a bit concerned.

"Some have taken to calling them the walking dead, they look like human corpses, rotting flesh and stench and a hunger for human flesh if we already didn't know, watching them drag away loved ones as they do. The night after they hit us with greater numbers." The nobleman sighed and ran a hand over his face as he wallows in the stress. Teagan slumps against the banister that was decorated with historic engravings of what Aria assumed was the prophet Andraste as they watched the man before them tear at the seams.

"With Cailan dead and Loghain starting a war over the throne, no one has responded to my urgent messages for help…I fear this night will be the worst yet, maybe even out last." He looks up at us.

"Alistair, I hate to ask, but I desperately need you and your friends. If there is anything—"

"You don't have to ask, Teagan." Alistair assured him. "Aria had already agreed to assist, haven't you?" he grinned towards her and the elf laughed as the little boy from earlier came to mind.

"Yes, there was never any doubt I would agree to help." She nodded.

"There are no darkspawn here, and nothing to be gained. This is a fool's errand." Sten inserted himself into the conversation.

"No Sten," Aria turned to the man behind her with a pointed look, the pale giant seemed to purse his lips at her. "If there is a chance we could save the Arl and get his alliance then that is one less problem to worry about. We have to try."

Sten opened his mouth as if to argue with her, but snapped it shut.

"Fine."

The Bann thanked them profusely. Informing them all on who to talk to as well as a few people he thought important for them to try and speak with to bolster their numbers. In the end, with so much that could be done to increase the remaining villagers chances of survival, Aria had everyone split up, assisting those best left in their hands.

Sten made a bee-line for the men flailing around their swords to yank one right out of a young man's hands and Liliana chased after him to make sure no one was killed. Or thrown in prison again.

Alistair was sent to go speak with the remaining Templars at the village windmill, while Aria agreed to let Morrigan go back to the local tavern where they were going to stay for the night to concoct any necessary remedies and poultices they may need during the night.

This left Aria and Uthnehn to their own devices to speak with a few troubled locals about helping improve the chances of those actually fighting.

First thing she decided to do was speak with the mayor. And after Uthnehn almost bite him for making a comment on her race and gender and the fact she was a Grey Warden she was able to glean a few more bits of information from him.

The rest of her daylight was spent knocking on doors and promising a smelly drunk of a blacksmith that if she and her companions were to be able to storm the castle she would search for his missing daughter, a maid that worked under the Arlesa.

Navigating the labyrinth of alleys the homes made as they stacked upon one another, sometimes three at a time, with nothing but sturdy wooden planks and metal reinforcement was both nerve wracking and intriguing. The buildings so high at both her right and left cast her in shadows as the children whose families had been taken by the undead scampered around her feet. They helped her. When she would lose her way through the village they would grab at her hands or tunic and drag her off and into the path lit up in midday sun.

They spoke to her and she spoke to them. Despite the times, the violence and the war Aria was amazed how the children of Redcliff were still very much children, even if their eyes sometimes reflect the horrors that they had witnessed the last few days and one or more asked to be lifted into her arms because they liked the way she made them feel safe.

Safe…

Aria had never had someone say they felt safe under her care. She had never had someone under her care before…She doesn't could the strange people she was collecting either since they were grown men and women and should be able to protect themselves. However, these children, that clung to her and stared up at her not because she is an elf and they aren't suppose to like her, but because in their eyes she was going to be their savior. The hero to make the bad guys leave.

She brushed the tangled locks of the little girl in her arms that had hid her face in the junction between her neck and shoulder. Her chest rumbled with the melody she hummed of an old elvish lullaby she could remember. The child in her arms was breathing easily as they walked through town after they begged her to walk with them.

Though she wanted to check on Morrigan, it had been a few hours since everyone had split up to do what they thought was right to prepare. Glancing around the village square, she studiously ignored the questioning looks many of the human adults were giving her as the children flocked around her like ducklings. She actually spotted the sister charged to look after them glancing over worriedly as someone handed her a cup of water and bread.

Sten and Leliana were still dutifully teaching the men how the use their weapons of choice. There was no sign of Alistair though, so she assumed he was still at the windmill. Passing through the barricades to the Chantry, she lead the children back to the sister with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, they sort of just herded around me and I didn't know what to do." She told the sister who sighed, but seemed little more than relieved.

"It's fine, honestly I haven't seen Weber and the others here quite so playful since before the assaults. It's quite nice to see them playing." The woman pat the steps she was sitting on in indication Aria should join her. The elf complied and shifted slowly so as not to bother the little girl still happily snug in her arms.

Both women sat without words as the children took to sitting around them to watch as Sten slapped the back of one man's head without mercy. The mage winced in sympathy.

"You're friends have been training the men without break for many hours, no one besides the Templars and the few castle guards that had made it here into the village before the attacks had ever really been trained. Maybe with this they will be better equipped to defend themselves and the women and children."

"The blacksmith will also be working to reinforce the ruined weapons and armor provided, that should help." Aria added, the dwarven merchant and his two thugs she had convinced to leave his locked home was out and about, working on fixing oil from the stores in places as well as patching up the barricades that had been brought to shambles.

"You're going to be fighting too, right?" one of the children asked, tugging at the wrap that covered most of her scars on her arm. Aria turned to them and nodded.

"I will, I promised Weber I'd make the monsters go away." She grinned.

"Do you fight with swords?"

"No, do you fight with a mace?"

The children asked one after another as their eyes gleamed in curiosity. Though their questioning did make her just a tad nervous as she shook her head in the negative each time.

"No, I don't need weapons like swords or shields to fight, all I need are my hands. I am a mage." She admitted softly, a soft will-o-the-wisp made from blue magic formed if her free hand, away from the child in her arms. The sister gasped, but Aria turned to her with a reassuring smile.

"I won't hurt you, or the children. The magic is safe to touch." She reassured. In wonder the human children ooh-ed and ahh-ed at the odd ball of energy. Surely none had seen an actual mage before, despite their close proximity to the Circle.

Being the oldest, and bravest it seemed, Weber curiously reached out to wriggled his fingers in the simple arcane spell in the palm of her hand. He gasped as he feel nothing but a cool sensation run through his finger tips, making them tingle, but nothing more.

"I thought mages were supposed to be sinner's?" One kid asked. "That's what the sisters teach at the Chantry."

The sister coughed at the child's straightforward question and though Aria caught her eye, neither really knew what to say to each other. So, Aria elected to give her own opinion. Because she could do that now.

"I don't know much of what your Chant of Light says about mages. I recall only one line, told to me over and over again as I grew up in the Circle: 'Magic is to serve man, not rule over him'. I find the Chantry takes it too far by trying to rule magic instead of letting it serve its purpose openly, by serving us and protecting us. We are demonized because we can destroy, just as easily as we can create and instead of letting the mage's integrate into society, helping people grow comfortable and accustomed to it we are locked away in Circles to be ruled over by man." Aria explained, extinguishing the will-o-the-wisp despite the children's protests. She looked down at them from her seat with an amused smile.

"The chantry believes the treachery of a few hundreds of thousands of years ago is the treachery of hundreds or thousands of mages now, even though none of us were the ones to cause it and should not be blamed for having a gift no one but its bearer can understand fully."

"But the Circles are just as much a safe place for you to study as it is to protect us." The sister spoke.

"Would you still believe that sister if you saw the treatment of some mages? Are we truly being protected when we are unable to learn how the world outside our towers work? When we are being abused by Templars and feel there is no way out other than a forbidden magic even mages find disturbing. We are judged and pushed, locking us away does not fix the problem you think we have. It just makes us more easy targets." Somehow, Aria wasn't so sure she was talking about mage's in general as she pursed her lips and relaxed her tense shoulders. She handed off the sleeping girl in her arms to the sister.

"I need to check on a few of my friends. Stay safe." She brushed off the woman and stood. Waving to Leliana and Sten as she headed up the path.

She opened the door to the tavern and walked past a red headed wench and cast her gaze across the few tables around the first floor to see if Morrigan was there. She wasn't so Aria caught the woman's attention and asked around.

"That woman with the dark hair? Yes, she's here, right up the stairs with those herbs of hers."

The mage thanked the woman with a tip of a few gold pieces after selling off a few things no one no longer needed earlier in the day and headed to the flight of stairs. Almost immediately she spotted the witch grinding a concoction of herbs in a mortar. Concentrated solely on her task the woman hadn't bothered to greet her as the elf found a seat across from her and waited until Morrigan was done.

"I've found something you may find an interest in. Could possibly explain why our Arl has fallen ill." She murmured under her breath, not setting the mortar down yet. Aria perked up, not expecting such news and let her continue.

"The bar wench here has mentioned the strange behavior of another patron, the dark haired male elf sitting in the farthest corner from us, first floor, near the door."

Without a word, Aria leaned back until her back hit the railings and craned her neck to peer down at the ground floor. The tables were mostly empty, though she did spot Bodahn and Sandal enjoying their third plate of…some kind of animal leg. Turkey, or lamb, she wasn't sure. But sure enough, just out of sight sat a lone male elf. His dark brown hair was pulled back into a loose braid and he seemed a sallow color, as if whatever be on his might it had sucked up all the color.

He didn't particularly look like a thug, but he was drinking straight from a wine glass and looked more than a little spooked when the barmaid would walk by.

Now, Aria may not know much about finding out motives through nothing but body language. But Morrigan was right in him seeming so tense.

"You sure he isn't just nervous about the nightly attacks? Many people in town are restless too." She informed her friend. But Morrigan shook her head and looked up at her for a second before returning her concentration to picking out a few stems of nightshade.

"The girl said he did not show up until the day before the attacks started. When she attempted some pointless small talk, the man said something about waiting for his brother. 'Tis an obvious lie."

"Think it's wise to meddle in this? If he's bothering the barmaid I wouldn't mind seeing what's wrong with him, but I don't want to bother anyone by throwing my weight around." The elf hummed in contemplation. Morrigan snorted and Aria was sure the witch rolled her eyes.

"You would hardly call 'being nosy' as 'throwing your weight around'. You hardly have the presence to do that anyways, silly girl." The witch's lips twitched in diluted amusement. It brought a laugh to Aria lips, she sighed and stood up.

"I suppose that is true, I'll call if he give me any trouble."

"Please don't." Aria heard the woman's snarky remark as she descended down the stairs to the corner of the tavern. The man noticed her approach soon enough when he furrowed his brows. His eyes flickered across her face before turning away to the door.

"Sorry, uh, not looking for company."

Aria blinked at the man before brushing off the comment.

"You would think after waiting for some brother that hasn't showed up for a few days you would go out in town to look for him. Or you would realize he might have been carried off by the creatures attacking at night." Aria crossed her arms in a show of nonchalance. The elven man flinched and shuffled around in his seat uncomfortably under her gaze. He tried to clear his throat before speaking.

"Uh…no reason…It's just, uh, my what?"

Aria tilted her head in confusion, catching the equally confused expression of the other.

"You told the barmaid you were here waiting for your brother…You are here for this brother, right?"

"Oh, uh, yes…my brother was supposed to meet me here. But I got stuck here once the monsters from the castle started attacking." He tried, glancing away from her in his nervousness.

"But, wouldn't you help with the fighting then? At the very least to find out if your brother was safe?" she questioned again.

"I was told I didn't have to." Was his almost immediate reply. "I…stay in the chantry at night and…just come here to uh, be alone. That's all." He crossed his arms now and leaned a little away from Aria from where he sat.

"Now look, you're very pretty, but I was told to…er…Just leave me alone."

Aria didn't think she would have gotten such a slip; she caught the red haired maid eyeing them from the table she was cleaning. She looked conflicted, however Aria flashed her smile and waved her handed in a way to say she had it handled.

It felt kind of nice, taking charge like this. Being nosey or no, the shiver down her spine as she asserted herself would have gotten her in trouble at the Circle. Making this man nervous was…interesting? She couldn't describe the way it felt.

"'Told to', who told you to do what?" she stared at him evenly, taking only the smallest step closer to his seat. The elf gulped shaking his head as the mage watched the him pale, caught in his mistake. The gears in his head already working, trying to fix it.

"Nothing!" he squeaked a little too loudly. "Nobody told me to do anything. Just because you're a Grey Warden—"

Aria heard a tray somewhere in the background clatter, but Aria stopped hearing much after that as her spine straightened. This time she was the tense one as she stared, taken aback by what he called her.

"I…I never mentioned a thing about who I am." She breathed out in one long sigh before holding her face in a hand. She looked down at the man who looked even more like he would be shot with an arrow at any moment.

Taking a moment to calm her beating heart, Aria raised her hand in surrender as she took a tentative seat next to the elf, but far enough that neither of them were in the others personal space.

"Look, if you know who I am then you know it will be a lot easier if you and I talking this out. I don't want any trouble, but you are making some people uncomfortable. I just wanted to help them out while I'm here." She gave him. Her words seemed to help ease the very palpable stress in the man's stance as eventually he released a heavy sigh.

"But I…oh, fine, alright. Just don't hurt me." He pleaded. "Look, they just paid me to watch the castle and send word if anything should change."

"But they never said anything about monsters," the elf shivered. "I haven't even been able to report anything since this whole thing started! I'm stuck, same as you and anyone else here."

"Who hired you?" she asked after his explanation.

"I-I don't really know. But, I think he mentioned a name, Rendon Howe, an Arl."

"He's an Arl and Teyrn Loghain's right hand man! So I didn't do anything wrong!" He tried to convince her.

"Why are you watching the castle?" She continued.

"Just to report any changes, honest! All I could send word about was the Arl getting sick. After that, monsters started coming from the castle."

The mage perked up then.

"Then do you know what could have possibly started this?" she looked up at him with raised brows, her hopes, however, were crushed when he shook his head.

"I don't know anything about these creatures. When the Arl got sick, I got scared that people would think I'm involved." He eyed her worriedly. "I was just sent here to watch, I didn't know the Arl would get sick and I didn't know those monsters would attack. For all I know, maybe they knew he would get sick!"

He turned around to pull out a bag from under the table and rustled his hand through it to pull out a piece of folded parchment.

"Here, this is a letter from them. It has instructions and everything, keep it. Do whatever you want." He handed Aria the letter with fervor and she took it. The elf ran a hand over his face as he eyed the half empty bottle of wine he had been nursing since before she got there.

"I just thought I was serving the king and making a bit of coin on the side…I never expected to get caught up in this weird shit."

Aria skimmed over the letter with a studious look before nodding and turning to the stressed elf.

"I believe you, but this is no excuse not to help those villagers out there when you clearly look like you could hold your own in a fight. Help them tonight and we can forget about this." She offered with a tone that said not to argue. The elf nodded swiftly, desperate to not get into any more trouble.

All right, I'll do it. Thank you for your mercy Warden." He sighed and stood up. Abandoning the wine bottle the elf grabbed the weapons leaning up against the wall that must have been his and bolted for the door. Aria watched him go just as she leaned against the edge of the table, thinking over the stranger's words.

Everything seemed to have started the moment Arl Eamon got sick. Yet, no one knew what he had or how he got sick. If this had any connection to one of Teyrn Loghain's supporters then nothing happening in this village was a coincidence. The timing too, seemed oddly perfect seeing as this was the first place they decided to ask for an alliance.

Aria didn't like the idea of this being a setup, but without any more information to go on it was all way over her head. Sighing, he mage stood up to go see if Morrigan was done with her preparations.