"Almost 8 and half months. Jory Junior should be making an appearance any day now."
You have got to be kidding me. Jory Junior? Asleena muttered in her head.
"I tried to convince her to move to Lake Calenhad. It's less likely to be attacked than Highever."
Zzzzzzz…-wha- what did I miss? She quipped bitterly in the confines of her skull.
"Of course, we're hoping for a boy, to be trained as a knight, but the wife would adore a daughter as well."
"SHUT UP!" Asleena shouted.
"Well!"
"Not you, Ser Jory." Asleena said quickly, guiltily. "I was talking to Daveth. He's leering at me again."
"Oh, okay then. As I was saying, we've already prepared a nursery, and…"
She groaned inwardly.
"Wait," called Alistair from the front of the group. "Darkspawn." He nodded to the rest of the party. Asleena immediately refreshed herself with a spell, all of her senses opening. She glared at her surroundings suspiciously. If not for the circumstances, Asleena would have thought the Korcari Wilds calming and picturesque. Trees towered over her and the forgotten, ancient buildings teemed with wildlife. Only just before, she had been shocked by the amount of life around, having never seen the animals. Of course, she had read about them in her beloved books but that was different to actually experiencing things for the first time.
At the present moment, Asleena slowly moved to the back of the group, the better to cast spells from protection. Slowly, slowly, the small party crept along the track, aware for the slightest movement, ready to strike at a moments notice. Finally, after what seemed hours of silent movement, a short, disfigured, ugly something leapt out of the ground and grabbed Asleena's ankle. She squealed, trying to kick it away. She turned to Alistair for help, but he and the others were already engaged in battle with the team of creatures. She was going to have to fend for herself. The thing slashed at her with sharp, lethal daggers, stained brown with the blood of previous battles. She reached for a flame blast, to knock it away. The familiar burning sensation crept into her limbs as she parried the darkspawn's blows with her tough staff. Finally, she released the pent up heat in a wave of concentrated anger. The genlock was fried, but alive.
How do you beat these things? Asleena asked herself, panting and casting at the same time. It was hard for the fragile mage to beat of the oppressive blows of the monsters daggers as well as attack with her staff. Her legs went weak as her body was drained of mana on her final winter's grasp. The genlock had only a small amount of health left, but Asleena was out of magic and lyrium potions. The approaching Darkspawn was too close for her staff to be effective now, so she turned the large stick around and plunged the sharp haft into the genlock's belly. She felt its bones give way under her merciless blow and felt jet blood splatter her cheek. She heard the rattle of death in its throat and saw the surprise in its eyes as it took its final breath. Asleena almost felt sorry for it. Her staff grew heavy as the genlock lost the strength to hold itself up. Weakened from the battle, she dropped it and allowed herself to melt to the ground, exhausted and wounded.
Her vision was blurry when she awoke a minute later. There were sharp pains all over her body where someone was applying health poultices. Red lines of pain carved across her stomach and cheek, while smaller slashes only buzzed with hurt, like a bee sting. A myriad of bruises adorned her cheek and legs, where she had fallen on a pile of discarded armor. Alistair's concerned face was blocking her vision.
"Asleena? Are you okay?" Relief was clear on his face when her eyelids flickered open. She groaned in response, shading her eyes with a hand to block out the blinding sunlight. "Yep, she's fine." He shouted to the other two fighters. Asleena pushed herself up, staggering slightly.
"Easy now," Alistair said, holding her arm to steady her. The splintmail gauntlet dug into her flesh as he gripped her wrist. "Was that your first Darkspawn encounter?" She nodded the affirmative. Stalking over to the meagre 1 Darkspawn she had managed to kill, she yanked her staff out of it.
"I wasn't prepared for how monstrous it was," she whispered, surprised by how much the battle had taken out of her. She blinked back angry tears as she realised how weak she was, failing to kill more than 1 creature.
I'm a liability, she thought to herself.
"It's all right, gorgeous. Jory was soiling his drawers the whole time, and he's a knight!" Daveth announced with a mischievous grin, seeing the tears glistening on her pale cheeks. Asleena laughed despite herself, a bitter chuckle that made Jory go red.
"I was not!"
The small group continued their trek, stopping only to fight. With each scrap, Asleena improved, learning new spells and tactics.
"Here now, what's this?" Asleena queried, holding up a small white flower. It had delicate petals, a sweet scent and a blood red centre. "Is this the one the kennel master was looking for?"
"Yes," answered Alistair, jumping in before Daveth could speak and giving him a cold glare. "He was offering a reward of 10 silvers. We should take it with us." Asleena flashed him a grateful smile, her black mood quite abated. Alistair blushed right up to the tips of his ears. He had never noticed how attractive her smile was, what a deep, clear blue her eyes were or how her shiny black locks caught the sunlight, making her look angelic, and beautiful. Not that he thought she was beautiful-
Maker help me.
Okay, so he did think she was beautiful. But she was a mage, and they were only friends.
Just friends… right?
After a long time searching, (and collecting vials of Darkspawn blood) the party happened upon a small broken chest.
"Well, well, what have we here? Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones have been long since cleaned? Or merely an intruder, come into these Darkspawn filled Wilds of mine in search of... easy prey?"
Asleena, Alistair, Jory and Daveth spun around, their hands flying to their respective weapons in preparation for battle. Asleena exchanged banter with the barely-clad woman, the men all frozen with fear, but jumping in with discriminating comments about her. After a while, she agreed to lead them to her mother, and the Grey Warden Treaties they had been sent for in the first place. With a shrug of her shoulder at Alistair, she followed the rapidly disappearing witch, trying to keep up and stumbling over the rough terrain. The young mage, Morrigan, she had called herself, was obviously used to the harsh conditions of the Wilds for she strode with purpose, not once faltering, confidence and mystery pouring off her along with mana. She was like an inferno, terrible, but with a unique, great beauty. Her heart sank as she noted Alistair's eyes drilling into the back of Morrigans head. Sure, the witch had a lot to offer a man, jet black hair that was caught up in a simple style and golden eyes that seemed to mock, as if she knew something they didn't. Still, she hadn't thought that she would be forsaken so quickly. She had thought that Alistair was different.
No time to think about this anymore, she told herself with a heavy heart. They had arrived at a quaint hut, an old woman stood poised outside.