xXXXx

Gwen opened one bleary eye to the window where the light of dawn shone its dusty beams into her room. She was in her bed, under several warm layers, and still in her clothes from the night before.

Thinking back to the night, she closed her eyes and smiled as she rolled onto her back with a pleasant sigh. She allowed herself a few moments to revel in feelings of calm and happiness; simply being in Alistair's presence last night had allowed her to step away from her own fears, enough so that she fell asleep in a state of complete tranquility. He must've moved her to the bed before he left, and the thought made her heart melt. Perhaps he'd be willing to provide her some comfort on the road, at least until the anxiety of the being a Dreamer had passed.

With the thought of travel fresh in her mind, she sat upright in bed, remembering that they were leaving for the Western Approach in a few hours.

After a quick bath, she collected a few pairs of clothing and a fresh journal into a pile on her bed, along with her pack of usual supplies: potions, handkerchiefs, a knife, healing balm, ink and pens.

The rest of the things she'd need in the desert had been packed days ago and sent with the wagons and soldiers. They'd have a marked crate at their encampment on the fringes of the desert, a location that was hundreds of miles away and a week's worth of travel.

Busied with the dread thoughts of the long road ahead, she filled her shoulder bag, absentmindedly organizing everything, when she heard a few gentle knocks on the door below, followed by one of the Ambassador's assistants calling up the stairs.

"Inquisitor! I'm on urgent business from Lady Montilyet."

Gwen called down, "Come up, of course."

A few moments later, the woman emerged from the stairwell, gripping a small bundle of papers against her chest as she hurried onto the landing. She separated the bundle into two and gestured to the desk at the other side of the room. "We need your signature."

The Inquisitor took the first offered pack and strode to her desk, sitting at the chair before readying her ink and pen. She pulled out the first piece of parchment. "Josephine certainly waits until the last minute."

"Some of these letters only arrived this morning from around the keep." She explained quickly, pointing a finger at a letter. "That is a letter of gratitude, to the Comte, for his donations to the Inquisition. The Ambassador acquired them last night at dinner. Apparently, he was very generous."

Blushing with a twinge of guilt, Gwen tilted her head down. "I really owe Josephine." She finished the rest of them, mostly requisitions she needed to approve, and handed the small stack of parchment back to the Ambassador's assistant.

"And here are a few last-minute missives for you."

"Thank you, and please convey my personal thanks to the Ambassador." Gwen reached out for the bundle, dismissing the young woman with a pleasant nod.

Gwen fumbled half-heartedly through the contents, her fingertips graced one which was quite thicker than a missive. With a sideways tilt to her head she turned it over, surprised to see no markings on its brown paper wrapping. With a shrug, she carried it to her pack, stowing it with the rest of her belongings.

"That will have to wait."

.

Folks were bustling about as Gwen walked through the main hall. She moved quickly herself, only stopping to grab another croissant and a mug of coffee as she hurried on her way to the gates.

The stable hands were there, packing the horses and she could see as she came to ground level, that most of her crew was assembled. She sent a surprised smile to Hawke and Varric who paused from rubbing the sleep from their eyes to greet her with a simple wave.

Cassandra was hoisting her saddlebags onto one of the Taslins, while Solas fastened his staff to the side of his own horse.

Gwen scanned the horizon, seeking her target. Alistair stood tall, his horse already prepared, waiting for her arrival with a cheery smile and a wink. With a hint of sleep still in his voice, he greeted her. "Good morning, Inquisitor."

Gwen blushed, giving him a sheepish grin. "And to you, Warden."

Varric chuckled, walking closer to the pair and shaking his head. "No need to keep the pretense of a professional relationship. It's all over the Keep that Lover B—

The man narrowed his eyes at the grinning dwarf.

"I mean, Alistair… was seen leaving the Inquisitor's quarters in the wee hours."

Hiding behind her mug of coffee, she responded, "Well, in a few moments, I won't care one b, as we'll be on the road and away from these dreadful rumors."

"So, you deny it?" Varric raised his eyebrow.

Ignoring him, she walked toward the horse that was being led to her. "Alistair, would you help me with these bags?"

The Warden smirked and took a step toward her. "Of course."

.

As it was still early, only a few others came to see them off, mostly staff helping with the packing, but her Advisors were there to offer their well wishes and good luck.

After an apology from the Inquisitor, Josephine hugged Gwen tenderly, whispering encouragement into her ear, then tottered off with her clipboard, making sure the first few days of dry rations were secured in everyone's saddlebags.

Cullen came behind her and touched her shoulder gently, forcing her to turn around. She nodded at him and he smiled kindly, "Eyes sharp, Inquisitor; the roads west can be hazardous for a small company. Cassandra has the maps, so stick to the roads. Oh, and watch out for Rylen, the man loves to tease beautiful women." He tipped his chin amiably to Alistair, who stood some ways off, watching the Commander's every move.

Leliana came next, enveloping the Inquisitor in a warm hug and kissing her cheek. "I shall miss you, my friend. At least I know you're in good hands this time."

As Leliana and Gwen spoke in whispers and the Warden took a casual step closer to the pair, curious to hear what the women were keeping from the rest of the crowd. Before he could hear anything, Dagna came into view, walking with purpose, pausing at the entryway. She brightened when she caught sight of her target and moved toward him.

"Alistair!"

Turning toward her, he puzzled, "Ah, hello… Did I leave something in the armory?"

She shook her head and held out a small canvas wrapped parcel. "Just here to give you a parting gift, as a thank you for your service to me and to the Inquisition, of course. You're a hard worker, and I'll give you a job any day, if ever you should need one."

"Thank you." With pursed lips he nodded, feeling through the canvas to figure out what it was, which he did almost immediately. Post haste, he turned to hide it away in his belongings.

Dagna's parting words caught him. "I hope you find what you're looking for in your travels."

Pivoting back, he met her eye and saw a glint of sorrow hiding behind her smile. "As do I," he replied.

When she moved off, back towards the Undercroft, he quickly tucked the package away in his saddlebag. Varric and Hawke appeared suddenly on either side of him.

"What was that all about?" Hawke began, pulling at the buckle to the bag in which he just placed the gift.

Grabbing his hand and pushing it away, the Warden responded nonchalantly. "I did her a few favors in my time here."

"Did you now?" Varric's hand picked up where Hawke left off and with sleight of hand like no other, divested the saddlebag of the small canvas pack. "And you got a gift for your works, it seems."

'Hey! Give that back!"

The pair of rogues proceeded to play a game of keep away with the Warden, until the contents of the package were revealed. Hawke cackled with glee when he saw the needles and thread, and various other small tools: it was a mending kit.

He held up the gift and chuckled derisively. "So, this is what you were doing instead of drinking me under the table at the tavern? Sewing?!"

Varric laughed heartily. "You're a man of many talents, it seems."

Alistair flushed scarlet and snatched it out of the man's hand. Through gritted teeth he replied, "I was trying to be helpful, unlike you louts."

Hawke relinquished the stolen kit and clapped him on the shoulder, sending him as warm a smile as he could. "No, this is perfect, actually."

Alistair paused. "It... is it?'

"Yes… my other trousers have a gaping hole in the crotch." He guffawed, clapping Alistair on the back again before walking off to finish packing his horse. "Now I know exactly where I can get them fixed!"

Grumbling, Alistair went back to his horse, tightening his saddlebag with a little more ire than before.

Having witnessed the entire show, Gwen walked over to him and took hold of his collar, and began straightening it for him, calming his erratic movements.

Whispering to him as she pulled gently at his shirt, she smiled. "Don't listen to them; I love that you spent your time here helping us. You gave back. What did they do, other than drink us out of house and home?"

Her words rolled right off him, as his eyes caught view of the roguish imps behind her. "I'd better harden myself for their merciless teasing on the road."

"I happen to like your softer side." She looked up at him longingly, then stood on her tip toes to kiss him on the cheek.

Varric called out in mirth. "Guess the rumors are true!"

As she shrugged dramatically, Alistair smirked at her and relaxed. "Thank you... I think? Not sure which brand of teasing is worse."

With a light laugh she gave him a nod. "It was no trouble."

Chuckling, he held his arm out. "In return, may I help you mount your horse, milady?"

"That would be most appreciated, Ser."

.

In addition to their personal horses, the group took two extra packhorses to carry supplies. Aside from the dry food, one of the packhorses was light enough to carry some cooking provisions for after the dry rations run out. The company mounted their horses and were off as the bright sun began its ascent high into the eastern sky.

xXXXx

25 Cloudreach 9:41 Dragon

Evening: First day of travel to the Western Approach

Welcome back to life on the road! The life of cold meals and sore arses… Why did I ever complain about being at Skyhold in the comfort and warmth? Why, why, WHY?

Five Days. That's how long Cassandra predicts it will take to ride, given our progress today. I admit, I was dreading the prediction, as it took us much longer than that to reach Skyhold from Crestwood, but she is certain that travelling most of the trip on the Imperial highway will be advantageous to our travel time.

The rides today were long and hard, with little time to talk during breaks. With cold rations as our only food, we ate and then were back on the horses after a quick rest.

The roads are far busier than when last we traveled. Amazing what a few weeks can do. We should pass by Halamshiral tomorrow and my thoughts move to the Ball at the Winter Palace. I absolutely dread it: the court, the dancing, the backstabbing, the gossip, and having to play their horrible games. Probably best to keep my mind in the present…

Physically, I'm exhausted and still getting used to life on horseback after days at home: bouncing about uncomfortably and forced to stare at the same surroundings for miles.

I admit it isn't all that bad, especially when riding behind a certain handsome man with, arguably, the best arse this side of Thedas.

I've been stealing glances at him, overjoyed that he seems more cheerful than before. He smiles at me and my heart flutters. I could write pages about the heart…

But I'm getting sidetracked, and my tentmates are grumbling about the light. Yes, both of them.

Tonight, we put up two tents with three apiece, instead of the usual three tents with two apiece. I had the briefest moment of elation and my eyes locked with Alistair, when I realized we may end up in the same tent.

However, even discussing who would sleep where was too much for my compatriots and Solas ended up with Cassandra and I.

(He just requested that I "expunge the light" with an especially sour demeanor.)

I suppose it could be worse. Could be Hawke lying next to me.

xXXXx

26 Cloudsreach 9:41 Dragon

Second night, same as the first. Hard travels by day and nights spent in tents. We passed just by the city around midday and decided to continue, for the sake of time and the crowds. So many people on the roads! A few even recognized our insignia and praised us for aiding the countryside against the rifts that have been causing much trouble. Cassandra warns that not all attention we gather could be friendly as we move further across the Thedas and into Orlais.

Summerday will be upon us and celebrations will be abounding in the cities and small towns along the Imperial Highway. Personally, I wouldn't mind stopping to see them, but Cassandra keeps us to a steady pace at the behest of Josephine.

Rations will run out sometime tomorrow, by my count, and the bulk of our meals will be foraged and hunted for the rest of the trip. I can't say that Cassandra is pleased by that notion, but she did say that we've been reaching the checkpoints much faster than she anticipated.

Maybe that means it won't be three more days. That would truly be a blessi—

…

Gwen was drawn from her journal by a shrill shriek coming from across the camp. Standing immediately, she all but threw down her writing supplies and rushed toward the call.

Alistair and Solas, who had been warming themselves by the campfire, arrived behind her, and all three saw Cassandra pointing at the dark woods, fastening her leggings at the waist as quickly as she could.

"He ran that way!"

"Who?"

Through gritted teeth, she growled out. "Cole!"

Solas stepped forward and halted at the tree line. He spoke soft words into the darkness, and moments later, the pale boy emerged, worrying his hat in his hands, casting his eyes down in shame.

Together they stopped at the camp's edge and Cole addressed the crowd with slow deliberate words. "I'm sorry… for interrupting you, Cassandra."

She huffed and nodded. "You should have announced yourself before coming upon me."

The spirit boy looked around with wide eyes. "I was worried."

Solas touched his shoulder. "We all need moments of privacy now and again."

The words came out dejected. "I know."

Gwen broke into the conversation, asking the obvious question. "What are you doing here, Cole?"

He met her eye with a thin frown. "Staying behind at the Keep felt… wrong."

Her sage-green eyes bore concern. "Why?"

"She calls me demon and doesn't like me inside her head… I see her there, small and helpless." Cole placed his hat gingerly on his head and glanced around to the entire company of travelers that grew around him and as if in response to their questions, he spoke again. "Vivienne."

Gwen responded kindly. "Why didn't you just ask to be included? You would have been welcomed."

Cassandra stared in disbelief. "But how in the world did you walk all this way?"

The boy tilted his head and pointed to one of the pack horses tied up on a tree. "I rode that horse."

Varric nodded approvingly, chuckling as he spoke. "You're a hell of a sneak, Kid."

"I am?"

The dwarf patted Cole on the back. "Good to have you with us, and you can share our tent for the night if you want." When Cole nodded, he backed away and walked toward the fire.

Gwen beckoned the boy to follow her and they strolled around the camp. When away from the others, she spoke quietly. "You gave us a scare, especially Cassandra."

"She was vulnerable, squatting by that fallen tree. I wanted to make sure she was safe, alone in the woods." His hat shook slightly. "Solas has tried to explain 'elimination', but I don't understand why it has to be private."

Hiding her laugh with her hand, she patted him on the shoulder. "I wish you'd have talked to me at Skyhold. I want you to know that you can tru—"

"I trust you." Cole stood at her eye level and caught her arm awkwardly, pulling them both to a stop. "You are bright, but I do."

xXXXx

The next morning, Gwen was awakened too-early by a static, green flickering erupting from her hand which made her insides twinge with uneasiness. The Anchor was yet again glowing more vividly than it had in the days prior. Determined not to let it bother her, she dressed in the dim tent light and donned her new scarlet gloves, forcing herself to clear her mind for the day ahead.

Gwen laid out a cold breakfast of hard bread, cheese, apples, and cured meat on a large stone in the silence of early morning. Taking a sampling of the food in a handkerchief, she sat on a fallen log by the campfire. The embers from the fire were still glowing and she felt drawn to the lingering warmth. She ate, poked at the coals, and glanced around the camp: Cole had set to work preparing the horses and Cassandra began dismantling their tent, but the rest of her travelers were still asleep or just waking by the noises -or lack thereof- coming from the tents.

The tent behind her flapped open and she turned to see who had emerged. With his hair still ruffled from sleep, Alistair came to sit beside her. He dropped his elbows to his knees and let his head fall into his hands.

"Sleep well?" He asked, with a just-waking-rasp in his voice.

"Not really." She whispered, not wanting to alert Solas or the Seeker to her slight insomnia. "You?"

"Not bad, actually." He tapped his temple and shook his head. "It's just the damned noise when I do wake up."

Gwen gave a wan smile and took his hand in hers, holding it on her knee. He straightened up a bit and lifted his eyebrow to her in question.

He was close enough that she could feel his even breathing, steady and slow. It gave her a comfort she didn't realize she was lacking. She gazed into his eyes as the light of dawn began illuminating the camp and reached up to smooth his hair back down. As her hand lingered in his golden-ginger locks, she remembered how happy she had been on their last night at Skyhold.

"I've missed you," she murmured, as her hand came to rest on his cheek.

"I've been right here, beside you." Alistair gave a light chuckle and squeezed her knee.

"Yes, but—"

Cassandra bustled behind them before another word could be uttered. She laid out the canvas from the tent and began rolling it up hurriedly. She turned to Gwen and spoke curtly, "Inquisitor, would you lay out the map so that we may plot today's course?"

"Yes, of course, Cassandra." Gwen called to her, as she looked apologetically to the man before her.

Alistair took her hand and kissed it gently. "Tonight. Let's talk again tonight."

She nodded and watched as Alistair rose to aid in tearing down the campsite.

.

With the map spread out before them, Cassandra and Gwen looked down to the stretch of highway before them.

The Seeker pointed a gloved finger to a point on the map. "We should aim to make it past by Lydes, avoiding the crowds near town and camp on the outskirts that evening."

"With the roads as busy as they are, I wonder if that pace is realistic." Gwen lifted an eyebrow at her cohort.

Cassandra smirked, "We'll do our very best."

With all the carts, wagons, carriages, and others on horseback, there was no shortage of scenery or activity to occupy the Inquisitor's mind and their midday break was upon them before she began to worry about the restless mark beneath her glove.

.

With her back to a large tree, she lowered herself to the ground to sit on the soft spring grass. In a calming meditation she learned from Solas, Gwen breathed out for a count of eight, then was interrupted by a clamoring of soft tweets.

Opening her eyes, she found the source: a wild flock of small black birds, some with bright orange throats, flitted above and around her, creating a kind of cloud. She watched in simple marvel at their seemingly chaotic movements as each bird stayed with the flock as it moved about the clearing.

The birds worked as a whole as best they could, keeping together despite their sometimes-errant moves. Instinctively, they'd return to the safety of the flock, committed to be part of some greater grouping. Their chirping brought a smile to her face and even as she moved to pull out her journal, they remained bold, staying within her reach without a care for their audience.

It wasn't long before she was joined by Solas. He stooped beside her, watching the same flock of small birds, busy again with their chaotic adventures. Glancing her way, their eyes met.

The elf seemed to sense the reason for her absence at their group's roadside resting point. "Is it the mark?"

Gwen nodded, holding her left hand up to him. "I suppose it's another trip into the Fade tonight."

Upon taking a closer look, he sent her a hopeful smile. "I would be delighted to have you join me."

"I'm not sure I'm quite ready." Gwen's eyes fell to a spot between her feet.

Solas nodded glumly and squeezed her hand reassuringly. "When you are ready, I will be there."

"Thank you, Solas."

"Until then, I may have a means of expelling the energy."

"Truly?" She held a flicker of hope in her voice.

"We could try an experiment to release it."

Glancing behind them, she wrinkled her brow. "Aren't the others ready to continue our journey?"

Releasing her hand, he sought her green eyes. "Cassandra wants the horses to rest for a bit longer."

"Alright, then." She rose to her feet, brushing her leggings of debris from the forest floor. "What kind of experiment?"

Solas rose with her, gesturing to the clearing before them. "You once asked me if the mark could hold powers beyond opening and closing rifts and I believe you answered that question when you stepped so easily beyond the threshold of your own dream. However, I think there's… more you could do, and figuring it out may release the energy that builds over time."

"You mean, I may not ever have to venture into the Fade?"

"Perhaps."

A bit confused, she nodded slowly. "If you guide me, I'll try anything."

"Excellent." He stood beside her, extending his hand as if he held the mark as well. "To start, I'd like you to open a rift and then close it, focusing precisely on the way you do it."

"How so?"

"What does it feel like? Does it follow emotion or thought? Exactly how do you command it?"

Gwen nodded. His request seemed simple enough. She had opened the rift at the Temple of Sacred Ashes in order to close it again. Squinting at her companion, she hesitated. "We aren't going to attract demons, are we?"

He chuckled, "This will be a fresh rift and won't be open long enough to attract anything."

"Alright. You—you should get behind me though."

"Indeed." Moving behind her, he pulled out a discreet handheld device. "I'm ready."

A moment later, the flashing green rift appeared. It lingered for a few moments as she focused on her task, then it diminished into nothingness. She'd done just as he instructed and realized that the rift responded to her thoughts: mental pushes and pulls, as well as muscle movements. She noticed the innate commands that she subconsciously used to control the rifts.

At first, the Anchor sparked up at the proximity to an open rift, but afterward Gwen could've sworn the itching pressure had lessened.

"Good." Solas came to her side, holding a notebook filled with elvish scribbling, his device stowed away already. He gave her a sly grin. "Now, I want you to do it again, and take your time with it, draw it out bit, really focus on those commands."

Gwen lifted an eyebrow and nodded slowly. She closed her eyes this time and concentrated on the commands, felt the pull to open and push to close as her forearm flexed. The rift opened and closed minutes later. Releasing a deep breath, she massaged a slight pain in her left hand.

"Wonderful." Solas beamed at her, jotting down a few more notes. "Now, are you willing to try something else?"

She glanced at him, a bit exasperated by his continued curiosity. A pang of fear hit her. "More?"

"Just one more."

"Surely by now I've drawn the attention of a demon, don't you think?"

Lifting a finger to his lips as if to quiet her, he continued, "We are safe. Trust me, Inquisitor."

Gwen nodded, a bit unsure.

"This time, I want you to try to manipulate the rift by suppressing it but leave it open."

Gwen cocked her head, confused.

Solas continued. "Stop the energy that flows freely from the Fade at the threshold."

The Inquisitor brightened at this notion. "If I can do this, will we be able to stop demons from coming through rifts while I'm closing them?"

"With practice, it may be possible."

"Then, I'll give it a go." Gwen eyed him with a hint of playfulness. "Just one more time."

Solas smirked and backed away again, this time a single step behind his cohort, his device out again.

Standing in front of him, Gwen stretched out her hand and commanded a rift to open with a gentle push. Slowly, thoughtfully, she reached out for the rushing energy and sent it back into the rift, but instead of pulling it closed, she pushed harder, attempting to quell the flow.

It worked. The rift stood open and sparking, yet still.

Beside her Solas exclaimed gleefully, "Well done, Inquisitor!"

Before she could respond, she felt a pressure pop against her marked hand, then a pull coming from the rift. The leaves of the trees shook towards the rift and debris from the ground began moving toward the opening. Alarmed, she glanced over to Solas, whose joy had faded.

Though Gwen's feet stayed planted where she stood, Solas was being pulled toward the rift. He took backward step over backward step, until the footfalls turned to leaps.

Finally, the elf tumbled onto the ground as a last launching leap broke him of the rift's gravity. He escaped the range of the rogue rift, now in full reversal.

Crouching on the ground far behind her, he barked. "Close it!"

"I—I'm trying!" Green tendrils still stretched from her hand to the rift in the air above them, and she was beginning to panic; the usual 'command' wasn't working.

"The rift is pulling inward now, not pushing outward! You must react accordingly!"

"How?!" Gwen began to panic.

"I—cannot say exactly."

Frustrated and desperate, Gwen closed her eyes and took a deep and calming breath. Carefully she recalled the command to close a normal rift: push and shrink. Opening her eyes, she knew what she needed to do: pull.

With as much focus as she could garner from within, she pulled steadily at the rift until she felt the pop of it bounce back in on itself. Her mind diminished the tear until it was folding in on itself before her eyes. A swell of relief washed over her, and her attention fell to her hand which had altogether stopped sparking and the itching sensation was gone.

"It worked." Breathing heavy, she jerked her head to hear Solas' own heavy breaths. He pushed himself up from the ground, dusting himself off as he stood.

"Yes." With a wary tone, he drew close and met her eyes, "And I want you to promise me that you will never try that again."

Gwen's rapidly-beating heart fell. "I think I could control it with practice."

"That is my worry: your practice may have consequences to those around you. I was pulled toward the rift with such great force, I fear not all who face it would have been as lucky."

Gwen nodded in agreement, her stomach sick from the thought of accidentally trapping her friends in the Fade. "So, failed experiment?"

"Not necessarily, though I would like to study my notes before we attempt it again."

With a mote of exhaustion in her voice, she sighed. "If I can help…"

"You've done much to help by submitting yourself to my instruction today." Solas packed up his belongings then looked into her eyes quizzically as he stood to return to the camp. "How does the mark feel?"

"Better."

"Then we did something right." He smiled at her kindly and walked into the forest. "Take your time getting back to camp. I'll inform Cassandra that you are resting."

Gwen relaxed her shoulders. "Thank you, Solas."

A wisp of dark clouds passed overhead, and Gwen craned her neck to the western sky. Storm clouds grew on the horizon.

Sardonically, she mumbled, "Perfect."

Double-checking her bag for her journal, her thoughts moved to the flock of birds she had been watching before Solas joined her.

The clearing, as well as the surrounding woods were eerily silent, except for the rustling of wind through the trees. Not a stick or a stone could be found in the vicinity: the debris from the clearing was gone. Straining, she could hear the faintest noise of wagon traffic from behind her, but no chirps or chitters. A sick thought passed through her mind and she darted further into the woods, in search of the small flock of wild birds, but they were gone.

In a thin whisper, she spoke to the quiet clearing, "What if…?"

"No… no." Realizing her foolishness, she shook her head. "They just moved to another part of the woods."

Reassuring herself with quick nods, she took a calming breath and found her way back to the clearing, lest she get lost entirely. Hastily, she packed the rest of her belongings and hurried back to camp.

As she reached her companions and checked in on her horse, she calmed herself significantly. Hiding her feelings away came easy, but deep inside a fear grew. The Anchor was dangerous, not to be trifled with, and not to be underestimated ever again.

A/N: Long time, no see! To those of you who still read this after 3 years of silence, thank you kindly! Know that I am constantly thinking about this story, adding pieces to it as I come up with them during my busy adult life. 😊

Gwen and Solas' experimentation is based Mark of the Rift, the Anchor ability that charges up and needs to be expelled and the one that the Inquisitor learns in the cave-in after Haven is attacked. I loved using it in game. Also, I'm taking a bit of creative license here (always!) by introducing the destabilization of the anchor WAY before Trespasser. I like to think that it was happening all along, they just ramped it up for the DLC.