Birds of a Feather

Chapter Three: Collision

They decided that it would be best to take only a small party into the Korcari Wilds. Alistair would go, since he had gone with Lenora for her task to become a Grey Warden, and he had also been around Flemeth as much as the Avvar hunter. Wynne was also elected to go, her spells of healing assumed to be much needed in the coming battle, because Lenora knew Flemeth was not going to go down without a fight. Zevran volunteered to join the small party, and although the Grey Warden had thought Sten more suitable because of his physical strength, she could not ignore the elf's superb Antivan assassin techniques.

"Are we ready?" Lenora asked of her companions.

Alistair and Wynne nodded as Zevran said, "As we'll ever be."

Before Lenora could respond, Feyr came running through the camp, bowling over Alistair to get to his master. He sat in front of her, wagging his tail in excitement.

"You should stay here, Feyr. We don't know what to expect."

Feyr barked in protest.

Lenora sighed, but smiled warmly at her furry companion. "There's no arguing with you, is there?"

Feyr barked again, wagging his tail in earnest once more. Lenora scratched him behind the ear and then stood. She looked to her waiting companions, who nodded, and then they were off.

x x x

It took only half a day to reach the unpleasantly familiar swamp. The unsettling fog wafted in and as they drew closer to Flemeth's hut it became thicker.

"This is…quite cheery," Zevran said from behind Lenora.

"Oh yes, it's all butterflies and rainbows," Alistair muttered sarcastically.

"It may be wise not to speak so loudly as we travel these parts," Wynne interjected. "There are even more darkspawn now than before the Battle of Ostagar."

"Wait," Lenora said and stopped walking. "The darkspawn are acting strangely." She looked to Alistair, the only other who would be able to confirm her statement.

Alistair looked confused, but his hesitation to respond told her that he was reaching out with his mind, joining it with the darkspawn to feel what they felt. "They're stirred up, and they're congregating."

"Have they already found us?" Wynne asked, her cool demeanor showing no fear.

"They're moving away from us," Lenora said. She had two fingers pressed to her temple, her eyes closed in concentration. "They're after something it seems."

"Perhaps this is more important than Morrigan's quest, no?"

"If people are being hunted by darkspawn, surely that is more important," Wynne added thoughtfully.

Lenora chewed on her bottom lip as she considered her options. Wynne was right of course; if people were being attacked by darkspawn then it was her duty as a Grey Warden to assist. But she had to think, what kind of people would willingly be in the Korcari Wilds; especially now that the Blight had reached as far north as Lothering?

But it wouldn't sit well with her to just ignore this anomaly in darkspawn behavior.

"Come on," she said and everyone knew her decision. They readied their weapons, and with Lenora and Alistair leading the way, they changed direction.

x x x

"We're lost, aren't we?" Merry asked, standing beside Pippin as he looked up at Gandalf.

The wizard no longer had the map. Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli were currently arguing over where they were on the map and which way to go. The ancient parchment was in danger of being torn down the middle.

"And how do you know we are not here?" Legolas asked, looking irritated as he looked down at Gimli.

"Because, the path we are on does not turn in that manner," Gimli growled back.

"This map could be several years old, and it doesn't appear that these paths are traveled very often," Aragorn reasoned.

"There aren't any landmarks either," Legolas added, looking back at the map and scanning it quickly with his eyes.

"I am a dwarf!" Gimli protested. "Dwarves are born with a keen sense of direction!"

Frodo had been standing by Sam and the other hobbits, waiting to see what decision his companions would come to. He felt compelled to help, he had been chosen as the one to bear the burden of the ring to Mordor, after all. But the ring was gone—at least he thought it was—and now he was just another hobbit.

A changed hobbit, a more world weary hobbit, but still just a hobbit. So he resisted the urge to intervene, and stood to the side, not saying anything to anyone.

That went out the window when a cold chill ran up his spine. He felt himself grow colder, though there was sweat on his brow from the amount of traveling they had accomplished on that day. He felt that they were being watched. He turned to say as such to someone, but everyone was distracted by the argument over the map. He looked around, thinking he could maybe catch sight of the person—or thing—that was watching them, and just saw the disappearance of a face from under the roots of a large tree atop the hill in front of them. He swallowed hard.

x x x

The sound of voices first alerted Lenora. She held up a fist to signal to her party to stop. Very silently, she called on all her skills as an Avvar hunter, and climbed the hill before her. A large tree with spindly roots stood at the top, leaning forward until it seemed it would fall at any given moment.

Feyr immediately understood that a hunt was on. He followed Lenora at a distance, sniffing for trails. When his master disappeared into the roots of the old tree, he crouched outside, low to the ground and still.

Down the steep side of the hill, Lenora spied a group that was as strange, if not more so, as her own band of travelers. Eight men stood together, consulting an old, yellowing scroll that must have been a map. She recognized two humans, one being an old mage. There was an elf, much taller than she had ever seen one grow, and perhaps five dwarves. Four of the dwarves looked very different from any dwarf she had seen; their lack of copious amounts of facial hair and abnormally large feet was strange. Oghren would have made a comment along the line of, "Must be nug-humpers."

One of the dwarves was looking around, looking paler than he had moments before. He may have sensed her somehow—though she wasn't sure how he could do that, especially if he was a dwarf. Regardless, she needed to report to her fellows. She ducked out of the roots almost as soon as the dwarf looked up. They met eyes for only a moment before she disappeared.

She quietly rushed down the hill, Feyr on her heels.

"What did you see?" Wynne asked when she had stopped before them.

"There are eight men," Lenora began, and told them everything she had observed. "They're a strange group—that could be why the darkspawn are attracted."

"Is it possible the darkspawn have mistaken them for us?" Zevran asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

Alistair shook his head. "Darkspawn are mindless followers of the Archdemon. They would not be actively searching for us."

"Plus, Alistair and I feel like fellow darkspawn to them."

"Regardless, we need to warn them," Wynne said.

Everyone looked at each with worried expressions, but Wynne was right. Just because their group was strange and was standing in the middle of the Korcari Wilds didn't mean they shouldn't be warned of possible attack. And the fact that they were consulting a map meant they were lost. How many lost travelers had fallen prey to the darkspawn in these swamps? They had the chance to save at least eight.

"Let's go," Lenora said. But as she turned away, a battle cry went up and they were rushed from three sides.

In moments, Lenora had her crossbow notched and fired at the man running at her. She caught him in the shoulder and he stumbled back, but soon recovered and continued to rush her. When he got too close, she used the butt of her crossbow to bash him in the forehead, and he stumbled, falling back into the mud.

Zevran locked blades with the tall elf, sparks flying at the contact. "Touché," Zevran said as the two pushed their blades together as hard as they could, trying to break the other's defense.

Alistair was bowled over by the charging dwarf, and would have lost his head from the raised axe if Wynne hadn't stunned the dwarf with a spell. He stood stock still, frozen in place. All he could do was growl from his throat.

"Stop!" Lenora cried, keeping her eyes on the man as he recovered. "We are not here to fight you!"

"Then tell your man to back off," the tall elf said through clenched teeth, dangerously calm eyes glaring into Zevran.

Zevran glared right back, but he had an impish smirk on his face. He was enjoying the confrontation. "After you."

"After you, Zevran," Lenora growled at him. The Antivan Crow sighed and stepped back, giving a fantastic flourish of his blade before returning it to its sheath.

Lenora turned and held her hand out to the man, offering to help him up. "I'm sorry, we never intended to fight you."

The man ignored her offer of help and stood on his own, brushing himself off. "Who are you?"

Lenora placed her hand on the top of her hound's head. "I am Lenora, a Grey Warden. These are my friends, Alistair, Zevran, and Wynne." She gestured to each in turn. When she gestured to Wynne she realized that the dwarf was still immobilized. "Er—Wynne, please remove that spell."

"Oh, all right," Wynne replied and obliged the Warden, albeit a bit reluctantly.

"Grey Warden?" the man asked and exchanged a glance with the tall elf.

"That old woman told us to seek them out, but it seems they have found us," the elf said.

Lenora raised an eyebrow in confusion. As she opened her mouth to ask what they meant and who had sent them, the four dwarves and old mage came around the hill to join them.

"Oh good, nobody is dead," Gandalf said calmly. He stopped in front of Lenora and looked down at her. He was a tall, lanky man. "I am sorry about that."

Lenora shook her head to dismiss it, her mind still on what the man had said. "What old woman? Who sent you to find us?"

"She called herself Flemeth," Gandalf replied. "She was quite an old witch."

"Flemeth!" Alistair exclaimed. "She just can't leave us alone, can she?"

"She's very eager to help, it seems," Lenora said, but the tone of her voice showed that she didn't truly believe that. "First she sends us her daughter, now eight more people."

"You know this witch?" the tall elf replied.

"I do," Lenora replied, looking up at him. It unnerved her to have to look up to an elf. She was so used to them being her height or only a bit taller. "Who exactly are all of you?"

"I am Gandalf the White," the wizard replied. He then gestured to each of his fellows in turn. "These four are Frodo, Sam, Pippin, and Merry. That is Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli."

"I've never seen dwarves that looked like you," Alistair said to the four hairless dwarves.

The one called Pippin puffed up with indignation. "We aren't dwarves," he proclaimed.

"Yeah," piped in Merry, "we're hobbits!"

"What in the Maker's name is a hobbit?"

"You don't know what a hobbit is?" Legolas asked, looking curious.

"This is a different world, Legolas," Gandalf said. "Hobbits may not exist here."

"But it appears dwarves do, showing the fertility of my race!" Gimli roared proudly. Lenora found the dwarf to remind her very much of Oghren, albeit more noble.

"There are men here as well," Aragorn amended. "As well as elves." He looked at Zevran and Lenora in turn.

Gimli grunted in reply and said nothing else.

Lenora ignored the conversation and approached the mage. "A different world? Where are you from?"

"That is a long tale—"

"Lenora, the darkspawn!" Alistair suddenly exclaimed, pulling his sword from its sheath.

Lenora pulled her crossbow from her back and Feyr began to growl. She looked to their new companions. "We can discuss this at our camp, but right now, we fight."

She turned and fired into the first line of the horde as it rushed at them, the smell of rotting flesh and bad blood filling the air.

x x x