Nathaniel nocked an arrow to his bow, a nicked wooden thing that had been hastily packed onto the arl's horse. In comparison, Carver had taken a random military mount, arming himself with rations and the dagger he had hidden in his formal attire. They were far from fully armoured or armed, but Nathaniel's half-cape fortunately provided him a semblance of protection against arrows, despite its more fashion-inclined purpose.

At the very least, they were entering the Deep Roads looking good.

Nathaniel stealthed past dwarven puzzles with a low voice. "How do we know the darkspawn came from here?"

Carver quietly depressed a plate that revealed another hidden entrance. "We can trust in Warden Solona."

A bloody trail of darkspawn marked Solona and her party's descent down Knotwood Hills' chasm, then deeper still where only lava lit the Deep Roads. Nathaniel had been alarmed to see that lyrium veins began to also light their path. Knotwood Hills was an inhospitable place overgrown with gnarled trees and prone to sinkholes, yet a lyrium mining operation was evident the farther underground they went. None of the tools looked dwarven.

They stepped over a hunched, bloated corpse as pink as a baby leaking black blood. Nathaniel's face scrunched in disgust. "I don't recognise these kinds of darkspawn."

Childer hatchlings.

"They apparently also eat other darkspawn," Carver commented as they passed a scene of dead hurlocks and hatchlings.

Nathaniel flinched at apparitions of dwarves and darkspawn battling. "I've only ever heard of ghosts."

The battle of Kal'Hirol, fought by casteless dwarves abandoned in the First Blight.

"This thaig must be as old as it is haunted," Carver noted.

Nathaniel threw a look back at him. "Would you stop that?"

Carver halted behind him with a whisper. "Stop what?"

"Making everything creepier," Nathaniel remarked, then motioned ahead. "You lead. You overreached with your dagger against those bandits earlier, anyway."

Carver huffed as he swapped positions with the arl. "I'm fixing it."

"And I'm helping," Nathaniel murmured as they snuck down a mining gangway. Hopefully it would be a shortcut. "For whatever reach you lack, I'll make up. Just trust me."

They froze when rapid footsteps echoed around a corner ahead of them, louder, until finally Carver snatched something and held a dagger up to it, while Nathaniel drew back his arrow.

"Not the face!" Carver's victim yelped.

Nathaniel lowered his bow in shock. "What is a human doing down here?"

The man in Carver's grip peered past his eyes squeezed shut in fear, before slowly lowering his raised hands. "Y-You're not darkspawn? Oh, thank the Maker!"

Carver tilted the dagger at his neck. "Answer the question."

Hands were thrown up again. "I-I was just scavenging for treasure! Honest!"

Nathaniel stepped up to Carver's side, brows furrowed with analysis. "Darkspawn don't possess the reason to capture humans – or let them live. Why did you think we were those monsters?"

"I don't pretend to understand them," the stranger defended. "They caught me, then a warden freed me from their cage. There's nothing more I can say!"

"Are you tainted?" Nathaniel questioned.

The man suddenly spat in Carver's eyes and bolted.

Carver disgustedly wiped his face with his finery while Nathaniel loosed a single arrow at the scavenger's calf. The stranger crashed into the ground as Carver regained his sight and glanced over. The man had fled as far as ten metres. In the flickering lava and lyrium light of the Deep Roads where the man's dirty figure was nearly an illusion, Nathaniel had made an impressive shot.

"Okay," Carver gaped.

Nathaniel turned, moving them forward. "If Warden Solona let him free, then he's not tainted. The darkspawn aren't interested in killing him, either – though we should let the man reflect on his past life choices."

Carver caught the arl as he stumbled. "There's a lot of raw lyrium here."

Nathaniel grimaced as they rounded the corner. "I'll be happy to rid of these sapient darkspawn and return home to my sister."

Carver's own head throbbed, except both him and Nathaniel knocked into each other. The tremors continued past their collision – followed by a flash of heat and light down the hallway. The earth shook again.

Nathaniel gripped Carver tightly. "An earthquake? No, something smaller. A controlled collapse?"

Before earning his title, Nathaniel had travelled the Free Marches with his mother's cousin whenever the elderly man had deigned to leave Starkhaven. Nathaniel possessed a subtle worldliness unique to someone broadcasting that they were nothing but Ferelden despite his neutrality towards other countries. Herding Ferelden's scattered nobles into basic agreements required an awareness of self-image, when one had squired under an Orlesian chevalier for the last seven years and one's father had committed blackest treason in the past year. At least Nathaniel's paternal grandfather had been a Grey Warden long ago, for the short time Padric Howe had lasted before expiring with his Joining.

The hallway ahead of them roared.

"Or a golem," Carver suggested.

The two of them raced down the hallway for the chamber at the end of it, only for Carver to throw out an arm and catch Nathaniel from falling forward into a pit of broodmothers. A tentacle shot out, and Carver severed it with a whip of his dagger as he and Nathaniel stumbled back. A body slammed into them from the side.

"Maker!" Nathaniel cried out in alarm.

The other person yelped, spinning around with one hand on a flaming staff and the other hugging a kitten peeking out from under his collar.

On the other side of the pit, a giant spider leapt aside of a lava golem's smash, tumbling into the wall as a woman. She picked herself up with a crooked staff. "Anders, focus!"

The mage near Carver and Nathaniel whirled around with a toss of fire at the golem. "I was answering the door! Someone wants a cup of sugar!"

A dwarf with full-face tattoos hacked at a hurlock emissary with two swords. "Do you only know how to make fireballs? That thing's an inferno golem!"

"No appreciation," Anders muttered as he redirected his focus to a crate of lyrium from the ceiling.

Carver smacked Nathaniel's arm as he sprinted for the emissary, throwing his voice across the chamber. "Solona! The crates!"

He didn't wait to see if his cousin heard him, tackling straight into the emissary with arms opened wide. The two of them hit the ground, teeth bared and arms twisting, before the emissary kneed Carver in the ribs and scrambled aside for his fallen staff. Carver rolled over with a control rod in his hand and smashed it against the ground.

"No!" the emissary howled just as the dwarven rogue stabbed both swords through the darkspawn's back. The rogue kicked him free of her swords into the broodmother pit.

At the same time, the inferno golem keeled over in mid-punch and the ceiling blew up with sudden fire. The crate of lyrium lurched – just as an arrow struck its swinging pulley.

BOOM!

Carver threw the dwarf down as a tonne of raw lyrium dropped on the pit of broodmothers and exploded, seemingly twisting reality itself before exhaling a cloud of sparkling dust. Carver awkwardly rose to his feet, helping the rogue up with him. A scan around the chamber confirmed that everyone else was wobbly but otherwise fine. It could have also been his bleary vision.

The dwarven rogue sighed. "My platoon can rest, knowing these darkspawn are definitely dead."

Across the pit, Solona unsteadily stood up. "Sigrun, for regularly facing these monsters, I must have you join the Wardens. You aren't returning to the deep to be unmourned and forgotten."

Sigrun shifted. "But my vow…."

Solona straightened, tossing her braid over her shoulder. Her hands were shaking. "The correct answer is, 'I'd love to.'"

Aside, Anders picked himself up from beside Nathaniel. "Would you two stop flirting for one moment?"

"This is…larger than a local anomaly," Nathaniel remarked.

The group of five were headed east along the North Road for Vigil's Keep, carrying critical news for the Wardens and the arling whom the darkspawn were accosting. By Solona, Anders, and Sigrun's accounts, the darkspawn in Knotwood Hills had been fighting each other. Not unexpected given their violent nature, however these darkspawn were both capable of speech and defending two distinct factions. With the archdemon's loss, the prospect of darkspawn achieving independent, organised leadership troubled those who acknowledged the facts.

Denerim was still fresh with celebration over the blight's supposed end.

Vigil's Keep additionally lacked a full retinue of wardens. When Elissa had summoned the forces from Soldier's Keep to Denerim, Solona had stayed behind with mage children, mage elderly, former werewolves who hadn't learned how to fight as humans yet, and Solona's patients, including Ruck and his guardian Duren. The few able-bodied recruits among them had followed Solona to Vigil's Keep upon notice of the keep's distress and defended the stronghold. To stealthily scout the darkspawn, Solona had then brought minimal strength — i.e. Anders — with her to Knotwood Hills.

Amaranthine and the Wardens were undermanned and operating blind. They needed information on their enemy and the numbers to act on it.

Solona at least grasped this intuitively. After clearing out darkspawn from Vigil's Keep, she had sent ravens to Nathaniel and Duncan, and had singled out a more recent yet battle-tested recruit by the name of Kristoff. A married man who had sworn himself to Solona's command after defending Vigil's Keep, Kristoff hailed from a humble family who dutifully volunteered a recruit to the Wardens every generation. By Solona's order, Kristoff and a former werewolf by the name of Swift had cut ahead of her and Anders to a remote village in the Blackmarsh. The locals there had apparently claimed they had spotted darkspawn in the marshes' abandoned town, though the village was known to be a superstitious lot.

"A darkspawn civil war," Sigrun added to Nathaniel's consternation. "Wars usually end with a victor, don't they?"

Carver nodded from where he walked beside the two. The party had split Nathaniel's and Carver's horses between pairs of Nathaniel and Sigrun, and Solona and Anders. Carver and Solona had silently agreed that Carver would rather walk than risk Solona losing track of the wandering Anders. The blonde mage was still sulking from where he sat hugging Solona's back as she steered their horse.

"The darkspawn had captured a scavenger," Carver pointed out, "possibly to prevent the man from spreading word of their lyrium mining. While not all darkspawn must be averse to harming humans, the idea had developed into their main platform somehow."

"Meaning they have a leader," Solona concluded, "or they are otherwise capable of reaching a consensus."

"Chilling," Nathaniel murmured. "If the locals in the Blackmarsh spoke true, then the darkspawn in the marshes aren't attacking humans, either. If villagers can see darkspawn, the darkspawn must be able to see them."

The gates of Vigil's Keep rose in the distance. Solona lifted her chin. "I need to support Kristoff and Swift in their investigation."

Subdued orange hues brightened up Vigil's Keep as painted vases or gilded pillars in baroque fashion. A commonplace sight was an artistic bear crouched on all fours upon a shield split four ways, displaying sectioned patterns of hearts and daggers. This heraldry vigilantly watched the keep's walls and entrances as wall carvings, and hung as banners within the keep, revealing the bear to be brown and the shield to be orange and white. Even the keep's wind vane was an iron bear on all fours, and corbels supported the keep with carved bear visages.

As the party rode unobstructed through the gates and dismounted from their horses, Sigrun and Anders peeked at Nathaniel's doublet, perfectly matching the heraldry's sedona orange. Enamelled on the buckle of Nathaniel's half-cape and embroidered around the hems of his clothing were walking bears, occasionally accompanied by a shield split in four. Bear paw prints as fine as spider silk patterned the inside of Nathaniel's clothing. Guards bowed as the group passed.

Nathaniel noticed Sigrun and Anders' looks. "My father enjoyed refashioning the keep in our family's image, as much he did spending my mother's money to do so."

Anders' gaze slid away. "Not judging."

"You're a noble," Sigrun noted, "yet the people here don't spit at the sight of you."

Nathaniel responded drily. "Thank you, I think."

"Nathaniel," a man in sedona hurriedly welcomed them through the keep's main doors, "Warden Solona. Your return gladdens our hearts."

"Albert." Nathaniel clasped the man's forearm with one hand and patted him on the back with the other. "Where is Delilah?"

It was common practice for the warden — by the traditional meaning — of the keep to greet lordly guests.

The merchant husband of Delilah shook his head. "The stress of recent events has grounded her to bed. Along with her diabetes, the local Chantry sister fears Delilah might give birth…prematurely."

Nathaniel's lips pursed. "Delilah was a premature baby herself. Maker knows my sister will be fine. Come, I must review Amaranthine's security."

The soldiers and wardens of Vigil's Keep found Carver a longbow, quiver of arrows, and chainmail while Nathaniel and Solona checked on the states of Delilah and the arling. Apparently, supplies were scarce even in the keep. A wagon-friendly route known as the Pilgrim's Path connected Amaranthine's ports with Denerim's, earning it the reputation of being Amaranthine's economic lifeline. However, trade caravans had recently begun suffering ambushes on the path. Steel, even a knightly sword, was laborious to find and maintain, and Carver preferred the forces at Vigil's Keep to keep the blades they had. Carver was knighted; he could draw a bow.

In the meantime, Carver recalled locations of ore and lyrium deposits and noted them to the local quartermaster. Amaranthine could start benefiting from its own resources while trade proved difficult. By the time Nathaniel and Solona returned from their critical tasks, Carver had managed to also prepare four horses.

"The Pilgrim's Path cuts through the Wending Wood," Nathaniel emphasised to Solona, reaching for his horse. "I don't want to believe bandits would risk that overgrown forest, but the fact remains that merchants are suffering. In turn, so are we."

Solona hauled herself up over a saddle, revealing she had altered her mage dress into a side-slitted surcoat and stuffed her chainmail underneath. The warden now wore breeches tucked into boots. "We agreed earlier that Kristoff and Swift require back-up. Their investigation of our enemy is crucial."

Anders groaned as Solona snatched him up to sit behind her. "Where are we headed?"

"The Wending Wood," Nathaniel replied as Solona simultaneously said, "The Blackmarsh."

The two leaders looked at each other.

"Had I the resources," Nathaniel spoke, "I would send parties to both locations at the same time. However, the only forces I'm willing to spare from my arling's security are the five of us."

With help, Sigrun climbed onto a horse behind Solona. "I go where she goes."

Carver mounted the last horse. "I go where Arl Nathaniel goes."

"And Anders is stuck with me," Solona concluded. "To the Blackmarsh."

An increasingly denser, saltier fog tracked the party's proximity to the remote wetlands of the Blackmarsh. Carver's grip around his reins tightened. With remarkably low luck, entry into the Fade awaited him there. The thought frightened him, but he owed the original Carver to not shy away from the "opportunity." No one noticed his anxiety, given everyone was riding ahead of him. The fog also hid a more important reality from the rest of the party.

The Blackmarsh was riddled with rifts that, ironically, were burdened by the very power that had created them.

During the Orlesian occupation of Ferelden, an Orlesian minor noble by the name of Marcilla had stolen into the Blackmarsh and slain the local high dragon accosting the area. The secret blood mage had sought power to maintain her youthful appearance through the dragon's blood, and it had worked, for a time. However, the dragon had indeed been ancient and, with its generational impression on the locals, immortal in spirit. When Marcilla had later been appointed as the local baroness du Marais Noir, she had divided the dragon's bones across the marsh and used blood magic to ban the dragon's spirit to the Fade. Marcilla had also abused her power to steal the blood of the barony's daughters and continue fuelling her youth.

When the barony had eventually rebelled, Marcilla had sundered the Veil and sucked everyone's souls into the Fade. By her own error, the baroness had by then morphed into the perfect slave for Pride, a demon who had simultaneously pulled Marcilla's soul into the Fade and merged with her. So long as the perpetrator remained on the other side of the Veil, the Blackmarsh's rifts were inert.

The events had all been decades ago, early in Orlais' occupation of Ferelden. The Blackmarsh had been haunted for years.

Carver sighed deeply and caught up with Solona near the rear. "There are other capable mage recruits, Solona. Why insist on bringing Anders?"

Solona spoke flatly. "My direct supervision is the only thing keeping him from running away at the first opportunity."

Carver glanced back at Anders. "He's still trying?"

The blonde mage woefully waved a hand. "Not until I find freedom."

"I can't tell you how many times Faren, Leliana, or I have caught him fleeing," Solona remarked. "He views the Joining as a philanderer does wedding vows."

"Except I might die in a Joining," Anders deadpanned.

An eerie howl split the air. Clouds rolled overhead.

"You might die at any time," Sigrun commented.

"Darkspawn?" Solona halted her horse, the party following suit when they noticed it. "Howling?"

Nathaniel readied a bow and arrow. "No – blighted wolves!"

The young arl's cape fluttered as his arrow lanced a distant shadow in the fog. A canine squeal hit the earth as the fog broke forth and darted for the party. Solona hastily drew a flaming staff before Carver threw a hand out.

"We can't set our only path on fire!" Carver warned.

Nathaniel steadied his horse and loosed a rain of arrows ahead. A row of blighted wolves fell before the party, another row tripping over the bodies. Carver quickly nocked two arrows and fired them with Nathaniel's barrage. The earth under the tainted pack suddenly collapsed like a sinkhole, closing up over the wolves' limbs. Sigrun finished them off with thrown daggers.

The party dismounted as Solona evened out the earth with a gesture. "I sense more of the taint farther in. Maker, Kristoff and Swift must be alright."

Everyone hurried after Solona as she ran ahead. Carver called out. "There might be darkspawn mixed with the tainted wolves. Be careful!"

A clash of steel and snarling neared them. The fog parted to reveal two humans wrestling with blighted wolves, straining to keep the beasts' tainted fangs and claws away from bare flesh. Arrows, daggers, and a flash of fire quickly downed the wolves.

The men on the ground panted. "Warden Solona!"

The party helped the two up, identified as Kristoff and Swift.

"How were the wolves tainted?" Solona demanded.

Kristoff caught his breath. "—You must leave! The darkspawn, he spoke — plans to ambush the wardens who would come searching here! We've been made bait!"

Solona patted Kristoff and Swift's shoulders, pushing them. "Share one horse between yourselves and ride for Vigil's Keep. No warden leaves for an investigation without my permission!"

Swift stumbled. "Warden—"

Carver urged him. "Go."

Kristoff and Swift dashed for the horses and vanished into the fog with echoing hoofbeats.

Sigrun blinked hard through the fog. "Now the darkspawn are planning ambushes?"

Everyone readied their weapons.

Nathaniel murmured to Carver. "I fear for the Pilgrim's Path. Your urgency now makes sense. This crisis should have been solved — yesterday."

Dense shadows melted through the fog around them; first a pack of childer hatchlings, then a circle of adult children, then finally a hurlock emissary. Like the one the party had encountered in the mines, it carried a staff. Carver's jaw clenched at the sight; normal darkspawn emissaries were only capable of blight magic, which relied on the taint and was completely independent of the Fade. Such magic was what allowed Warden Urtha to perform her blood experiments for the Architect despite being a dwarf. Yet, Carver had now seen two examples of darkspawn capable of accessing the Fade.

Which meant that darkspawn had souls.

At least, the two mentioned.

If this was possible after making darkspawn drink warden blood in similar fashion to the Joining, what did that say about the taint? What were its true effects on all it touched, from inanimate to animate, mundane to godly? To an extent, the reverse-Joining had essentially allowed the two previously-soulless emissaries to develop their own personalities, like a certain spirit of Compassion would be able to in another timeline.

The emissary was talking.

"The Mother does want the wardens out of the way." The darkspawn summoned a sphere of shadows into his hand, before suddenly, unnaturally seizing. "Into the Fade you shall b-be — what is this! Mother has t-tricked me? No! I will burn you — all of you! Mother most of all …!"

Carver's calmness stuttered out of him in faster and shorter breaths. He didn't want to acknowledge the facts, but his body was choosing that moment to suffer it: hyperventilation.

"Mother…!" the emissary howled.

The sphere of shadows blew up into a gaping hole that swallowed everyone. Reality twisted. Carver's eyes rolled back in his head, and he fainted.

;

A/N:

Since heraldries are very pixelated in Origins, I added plausible embellishments to the existing Howe heraldry. Specifically, I added white hearts to the orange squares of the heraldry's shield, and orange daggers to the white squares.

In the flag attributed to the gentleman pirate, Captain Stede Bonnet, a heart and dagger means life and death. That's what is coming when you see his flag. Since the Howe family is one of Ferelden's oldest, and has lasted on the border of the pirate-ridden Waking Sea, it's easy to believe they speak the language of their neighbours.

Yup, the party is all rogues and mages! When I played Awakening for the first time, I made my mages throw fireballs ahead of us. My rogues would then prey on the Panicked enemies who were knocked down and being dealt damage over time. It's not sadism, it's smarts!

I also had a tiny crush on Nathaniel in my first playthrough. Of course, I've been fond of most all male characters, but Nathaniel's voice especially tickles me pink to this day.

Spoiler alert: We won't see the original Carver just yet!