Matrinalis 27

Korcari Wilds

Dear Falon,

Why does it seem things just keep getting worse? On the night of the battle Duncan told Alistair and me that we had to light the beacon at the top of the Tower of Ishal, as part of the kings' plan. The king, his army, and the Grey Wardens were to fight the darkspawn and once we lit the beacon Loghain and his men were to flank the darkspawn.

Alistair dearly wanted to be in the battle, as did I. But Duncan told us it was not our choice but the kings. Alistair had the funniest reply:

"Alright, alright. But just so you know, if the king every asked me to put on a dress and dance the remigold, I'm drawing the line. Darkspawn or no." I giggled.

"I don't know," I signed. "I think that would make an excellent distraction."

"What? Me shimmering down the darkspawn line, sure. We can kill them while we roll around laughing." Duncan sighed, though I think it might have been to hide a smile. He informed us we only had an hour to light it and we nodded our understanding. Before he left, Alistair said to him "May the Maker watch over you."

"May he watch over us all." Duncan replied.

And then he was gone.

So, Alistair, Chacka, and I went to the Tower of Ishal to find a soldier and mage claiming it had been taken over by darkspawn. The two came with us as we fought against the darkspawn to get to the tower. We fought even more inside. When we got to the second floor of the tower we knew something was wrong.

"Maker's breath, what are all these darkspawn doing ahead of the rest of the horde? There wasn't supposed to be any resistance here!" Alistair exclaimed.

"Weren't you the one complaining you wouldn't get to fight?" I asked him. He shrugged and chuckles saying "I guess there's a silver lining after all." We hurried through and fought the darkspawn going through each level until we reached the top floor. And waiting for us was an ogre. A big, scary, drooling ogre.

How the darkspawn got the thing in there I will never know.

The mage threw fire at it while the soldier, Alistair, Chacka and I attacked. The ogre managed to grasp the soldier in its hand and crush him, Maker preserve him. It also took hold of me and tried to crush me. Alistair stabbed at its legs, making it throw me at a wall. Perhaps it was not the best idea considering I may have broken some ribs. I was unsure what happened after I crashed, but I remember my vision blurring and I could not get up.

From what Alistair related, he had leapt into the air and plunged his sword into the ogre's chest, knocking it down. As the ogre reached for him Alistair pulled out the sword and plunged it through its neck, ending its life. I believe I remember Alistair rushing over to me, barking at the mage to light the beacon. I was rolled gently onto my back, though that did nothing to prevent the pain, and then called for the mage to help me. The mage explained that he was no healer but he might have a health potion. Alistair swore. He moved behind me, sitting on his heels, he supported my head with his legs while the mage poured the liquid down my throat. It numbed the pain, but did not heal it. The mage examined me and said I had a few broken ribs, give or take three. He then got up and walked to the window while Alistair gave me another potion.

"What in Andraste's flaming sword is going on?!" The mage exclaimed. Alistair asked what was going wrong. "Loghain and his men . . . they're pulling out! They're surrendering—retreating!—while everyone else continues to fight!

"What?" Alistair shouted "Why would he do that? Are you sure?" the mage nodded.

I shook my head and tried to stand, but the pain forced me back down with a whimper, or what closely sounded like a whimper, since I can't really make any sound. Alistair combed his hands through my hair, shushing me, telling me everything was going to be okay. But I could hear in his voice he was panicked. Either way, it seemed to soothe me and I asked him to help me up. He was reluctant at first, but did as I asked.

Once on my feet, Chacka brought me my sword I had dropped, though my shield lay across the room. I was about the sheath my sword when darkspawn suddenly crashed through the doors. With my pain I did not fight well, but tried. I then remember feeling intense pain in my chest. I managed to stay conscious long enough to see a massive shadow appear on the window. Then everything went black.

I woke some time later in a hut. It was Morrigan's. Morrigans' mother had been healing my wounds while I was unconscious and repaired my ribs. They hurt, but I said nothing of it. She explained to me that all those at Ostagar were dead. A total slaughter. The king, the Grey Wardens, Duncan . . . this doesn't seem real, Falon. I wish this were not so. She said my friend was not taking it well, and I felt so relieved to hear Alistair was alright. Well, physically.

When I had dressed into my damaged armor and sheathed my weapons, I hurried outside to where Alistair was standing, gazing at the lake. I ran to him and threw my arms around him. He returned it, saying he thought I was dead, or going to be. When I looked into his eyes I saw a pure pain and mourning glint in his eyes. Sweet Anndraste! Was this how I looked when I was stricken with my loss? This must be horrible for him. He just lost his mentor—someone who was like a father to him.

Chacka nearly tackled me once he saw I was alright. I hugged him as tightly as I hugged Alistair, to which he covered my face in smelly slobber.

Before I continue, I just want to write that Morrigans mother is Flemeth. The Flemeth! Dear Falon, I feel like I'm in one of those stories I read.

Anyway, Alisair and I are the last Grey Wardens in Ferelden. Can you believe that? I thought things were bad before! We discussed how we need to find a way to end the Blight and defeat Loghain before he causes more trouble. At first we hadn't any idea what to do. Then Alistair remembered the treaties. They were still in his pack. Meaning we can gain aid from the Dwarves of Orzammar, the Dalish elves, and Mages from the Circle of Magi. Alistair also suggested Arl Eamon, the arl of Redcliff, claiming he's a good man and would help us.

Morrigan came out of the hut, first saying the stew was ready and then suggesting we head out in the morning, due to the fact I'm still recovering. Alistair agreed, but only if we slept outside, mistrustful of the apostates, though they saved our lives. We also ate outside, the stew being amazingly delicious (or that's my new Grey Warden hunger talking), though Alistair ate very little of. I said nothing of it, since I could barely eat after my loss, thought Duncan tried numerous times to get me to eat. We sat in silence most of the time. When night fell we laid out the blankets Flemeth had provided for us, though why she had so many blankets I'll probably never know. We stayed next to each other, about a foot apart.

Alistair rolled over to face away from me and I assumed he tried to sleep. Or at least pretend he was. I took you out and began writing to you once he turned away. Falon, I don't know how much more death and destruction I can take. Betrayal, death, pain sorrow . . . all this in a matter of days. Are these what lie ahead of us now? Chacka is whining and licking my hand as I write, giving me comfort. But what comfort can I give Alistair? My friendship and presence will do for now, I suppose. He needs to know that he is not alone. Perhaps I'll talk to him tomorrow. Let him know that I am here for him and I understand his troubles more than he thinks.

Alistair does not move while next to me. His eyes lay closed, but he is not asleep. I know full well that once I fall asleep he will cry for his loss, just as I had.

Maker, may you and your bride give us strength in this time of strife. May you give us the hope, strength, and will to complete this task and succeed.

Yours, Vercy.