DESTINY
I had originally planned on having this chapter go through the Origin of the Warden, but what's the point? Just choose the 'Cousland' Origin and specialize in two handed weapons and heavy/massive armor. Then you'll have my Warden character!
Instead this chapter will take place *just* before the actual Battle of Ostagar. It will also contain a lot of dialogue.
Actually, my most recent main DA:O Warden was an Arcane Warrior/Spirit Healer mage build. That build takes some getting used to, but it's actually very fun. It's a must try for anyone who plays the game.
Also, for those who are wondering; the 'majestic cyan greatsword' that the Warden in Neranya's dream wields is actually Starfang.
5/9 Edit: This chapter has received significant changes, which I hope will bring it more to canon (as if my story wasn't canon-breaking enough!).
For any who had read this chapter before, neither Irving or Greagoir will be present anymore. Instead it will be just Wynne and a zealous Knight-Captain Cullen in place of them.
With all that said, I give you...
CHAPTER TWO: THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM
THE YEAR 9:30 DRAGON. OSTAGAR.
After climbing above the main valley of this section of the Wilds, Neranya noticed a majestic fortress looming above her. The great fortress itself was larger than the city of Whiterun, and there was a treeless plain that spread out towards the south that looked like it could swallow up all the cities of Skyrim. Truly this fortress is mightier than any I've seen in Skyrim. Perhaps mightier than any in Tamriel!
As the group neared the huge fortress, Neranya could see that it was heavily fortified. A large army had set up their encampment within the fortress, but it must have been so numerous that the tents were also set up outside of the fortress. She deduced that an army of this size must be under the command of this land's King. At any rate, she would find out very soon.
As they approached the great gate, Neranya wondered just how many people were within, so she slackened her pace to give herself some privacy. Once she was confident she was out of earshot, she inhaled...
LAAS YAH NIR
Neranya's Aura Whisper Shout illuminated every living thing nearby with a wispy red aura that only she could see. When she looked toward the walls of the fortress, it seemed ablaze with solid red. Must be thousands within, at least.
Alistair turned around and noticed that Neranya had fallen behind. "You OK back there?"
After quickly composing herself, Neranya shouted back, "Yes, I'm fine. I'll catch up in a moment." She jogged to catch up with the others as they were stopped by the guards posted at the great gate of Ostagar.
One of the guards eyed Neranya suspiciously. "Four of you have left these gates but now you have five. Who is this stranger?"
Ser Jory struggled for a moment as he tried to formulate a good answer. "Um, this is a–"
"She's with us." Alistair quickly said. "On behalf of the Grey Wardens, I shall take full responsibility for her."
The guards scowled at Neranya for a moment, and their contempt was beginning to test her patience. For a second she considered using the Unrelenting Force Shout to break the gates down, but she knew that would be a fool's errand, to put it mildly.
The guards finally relented. "Very well. You may enter."
"Thanks!" Alistair grinned at the guard.
"However, we'll be watching your every move, stranger..." the guards threatened. Neranya rolled her eyes and waited for the order to be given to open the gate.
After a minute of tense silence, the gate mechanism began to pull the imposing wooden palisade's gate open. She went agape at what she saw within.
Inside the great fortress were hundreds of tents, just within this one area. Men were going this way and that, all preoccupied with various tasks. Smithies were busy forging and sharpening swords; and various teenagers ran about presumably delivering messages to the different army units bivouacked within. The atmosphere of anticipation was almost palpable.
Neranya followed the group toward a huge bonfire situated in the central courtyard of the fortress. Standing next to it was a dark-skinned man clad in ornate silver armor. He had a silver sword and a brick-colored dagger affixed onto his back. The man noticed the group and waved them over. "You've returned! Have you got it?"
Alistair produced three vials of black liquid from his satchel. Is that the blood of those creatures?
"Excellent, we can begin the Joining ritual posthaste." the man exclaimed as he took the vials out of Alistair's hand.
"Duncan." Alistair said as he pointed toward Neranya, "We've met one more person while out in the Wilds. She had encountered a Darkspawn scouting party and killed one using stealth, but the rest attacked her. We then intervened and saved her."
The man named 'Duncan' looked at Neranya and appraised her with a critical eye. "So I see. Perhaps she too can join the–"
"I have no desire to join any order. I simply wish to learn why I am here..." Neranya replied tersely.
Duncan appraised Neranya once more. "Perhaps your destiny lies with the Wardens. Surely we could use every able-bodied person for our cause."
"And what might that be? Hmm?" Neranya asked, now annoyed with Duncan's attempts at convincing her to join their order.
"The Grey Wardens take upon themselves the duty of confronting the Darkspawn and ending their threat to Thedas. When a Blight occurs, the Wardens must marshal every available bit of strength to withstand the Blight's corruption and prevail." Duncan now laid a hand on Neranya's shoulder as he continued to give his explanation, but she momentarily recoiled at his touch.
Duncan finished his explanation with a solemn voice. "In order to prevail against the Darkspawn, all Wardens must pledge their lives to this righteous cause..."
Neranya shook her head, as she had no care for what happened here in this world. She simply wanted to get this little journey over with so she could return to Skyrim. From her experiences with the Daedric Princes and their fell tasks, she was very suspicious of any group which required its members to swear oaths of lifelong servitude.
"So, what shall it be, milady?"
Neranya held Duncan's gaze for a moment and responded with a firm "No."
"So be it. I apologize for intruding upon your business, milady. May the Maker watch over you." Duncan said as he stepped back.
With that, Neranya bade farewell to the recruits she had just met and continued her tour of the great bastion of Ostagar.
Neranya walked along the walkway, which was busy with soldiers attending to their various tasks. Eventually she came to a multi-colored tent guarded by stoic men clad in thick metal armor. She almost dismissed it as just a high-ranking commander's tent, but then she noticed a strange insignia on one man's breastplate. It was a flaming red sword. The guard, who wore a fully enclosed metal helmet, stared at her menacingly.
Inside the tent were several people clad in red robes. Mages!
Neranya walked up to the entrance of the ornate tent, but she was stopped by one of the guards. "Halt. What business have you with the Circle Mages?"
"I have a problem with my magical abilities. They seem... weak." Neranya meekly replied, unaware that the man was tensing up and his hand wandered near his sword. After a moment she noticed the man going for his sword, so she gave him a venomous glare and warned, "That would not be a very smart idea..."
"Riling up the Templars, are we?" a tender voice called out to Neranya. "They are already worked up enough, what with all the mages running amok." the voice chuckled at that last sentence.
An elderly woman stepped out of the tent and stood in front of Neranya. She bade the 'Templar' standing guard to leave, and then she introduced herself. "I am Wynne. Who might you be?"
"I am... Neranya."
"Neranya..." Wynne tested the word on her tongue. "Interesting name. From where do you hail, my dear?"
"Sk–far away from this land."
Wynne chuckled at her response. "Well, that much is obvious. I have never seen that kind of robe before."
Neranya noticed that the Templars nearby were now crowding around her as Wynne continued her observations. "I just hope you aren't a maleficar. Too many young minds become corrupted by demonic temptation." The elderly mage now seemed downcast, as if in regret of some past actions. "It is most certainly tragic."
"What is a maleficar?" Neranya asked with an innocent tone.
A man's voice suddenly interrupted the conversation. "Maleficarum are accursed mages who have invited demons into their souls. Maleficarum readily practice wicked blood magic and prey upon those of us who seek to uphold the Chantry's policies regarding mages."
"Knight-Captain. I implore you to please put aside your contempt for us mages for at least one night." Wynne pleaded.
"I think not." the Knight-Captain walked up behind Neranya and scrutinized her robes and dagger. "This one certainly looks like a maleficar. One can only suspect what that strange dagger is used for–"
Wynne admonished the brash Knight-Captain's condescending attitude. "Please leave her alone. If she were to be a maleficar, you would think we would have had her dealt with by now..." She continued her rebuke of the Knight-Captain. "Besides, haven't we bigger things to worry about? Such as the Darkspawn horde."
"Of course, Senior Enchanter. However, I will have you know that this apostate will be watched. Rest assured that this is not over." the Knight-Captain threatened before he walked away with the ten Templars who had surrounded them. Wynne shook her head and focused on Neranya once more.
"I must apologize. The Knight-Captain may be obstinate at times, but he is actually one of the more moderate Templars in the Order."
Neranya eyed the elderly mage for a moment, then replied, "No harm done, I guess. However, I have come to ask a question."
Wynne looked Neranya up and down and noticed that she lacked the paraphernalia of the Circle of Magi. "It is indeed strange that you lack the customary staff and ring of the Circle. But feel free to ask, my dear."
Not yet wanting to reveal her true origins, Neranya chose to employ hypothetics in her question. "Let's say that I come from a land in which magic works somewhat differently than it does here, however that is."
Wynne cocked one eyebrow and gave Neranya a puzzled look. However, she chose to humor the elf. "Well, all mages tap into the Fade to power their magic. It's really quite simple."
Tapping into the 'Fade'? Sounds just like the power of Magnus. "What is the Fade, exactly?"
"I am surprised that you do not know of these things–"
"Hypothetically speaking..." Neranya quickly corrected.
"Right. Well the Fade is the otherworldly realm that is connected to this world through the Veil. The Fade is populated by the Maker's first creations – spirits." Wynne beckoned for Neranya to follow her into the tent. As they walked inside, she continued her explanation. "When a mortal dreams, their mind crosses the Veil and enters the Fade. Mages are able to do this at will, even while awake, which is what allows them to tap into the immense magical power from the Fade."
Neranya couldn't help but feel stunned at how differently this world worked. At least where magic was concerned. "So... Mages draw their magic from the Fade. What if one can't sense it?"
"Only a Tranquil is completely severed from the Fade. Dwarves never enter the Fade in the first place. Obviously you are neither, so therefore you should be able to access the Fade."
"If you can't access the Fade, how can you do so? Provided you aren't a 'Tranquil'."
The elderly mage was silent as she scrutinized Neranya, perhaps sensing that there was something different about her. He finally said, "Dreams and lyrium."
"Lyrium?"
"Lyrium is a magical ore that is mined from the depths of the world by the Dwarves. You could say that lyrium is magic given substance."
Neranya stood there, pondering how magic could be concentrated into an ore. She did realize that certain metals in Skyrim were readily pliable by magical means, but none possessed innate magical power. Neranya couldn't help but wonder where something like that could be found. "Where does one get lyrium?"
Wynne was taken aback by her question. "The lyrium trade is strictly controlled by the Chantry. They give us small amounts to use for various arcane experiments and procedures, but the majority of it they hold for the Templars."
"Templars... Who are they, exactly?"
"The Templars are the sworn guardians of the Circles of Magi. They are posted there by the Chantry to both protect us mages and hunt down any who escape."
"Protect? From whom?"
"Ourselves." Wynne answered with an ominous tone. Neranya's eyes went wide at that.
A mage poked his head into the tent and motioned for Wynne.
Wynne noticed him. "What is it, child?" Her voice was exceptionally tender and motherly.
The young mage hurriedly gave his message. "The scrying ritual is about to begin, Senior Enchanter."
Wynne nodded and the young mage disappeared once more. She turned to Neranya. "If you find you cannot access the Fade now, like you say, then you will if you sleep tonight." She winked at that last sentence. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must attend to my duties."
Neranya walked out of the tent. Upon stepping outside, she finally decided to push the hood of her robe back, thus revealing her Elven appearance. To her surprise, no one seemed to notice. Everyone was too engrossed in their tasks, in preparation of the great battle to come. The things that Wynne had told her about this world were truly intriguing. She made a mental note to ask someone else about what the 'Chantry' is.
Down the courtyard Neranya noticed Duncan at the smithy. He seemed to be in a great hurry, as nighttime was fast approaching and the armies were now getting restless in anticipation of the battle to come.
Duncan noticed Neranya and waved her over. He undoubtedly noticed Neranya's Elven features, but he gave no reaction. Perhaps Elves are plentiful in these lands...
"I must ask you something." he said.
"Ask me for what?"
"Your forgiveness and your help."
Neranya nodded her head at Duncan. "It is given, but for what do you need my help with?"
Duncan smiled at Neranya in relief. "I thank you." He walked up to Neranya until they were face-to-face.
Clearly this will be an important request...
Duncan continued. "I respect your decision to not join the Wardens, for the life of one can be cruel and unforgiving."
Obviously you have not experienced Tamriel and its troubles...
"However, I must ask that you accompany the Wardens and aid them, should the battle go ill." Duncan finally said.
Neranya gave a look of shock at his request. "Why would the battle go ill?!"
"We are greatly undermanned, and if my suspicions are correct, the Archdemon may show itself. Here. Tonight."
"You speak nonsense! You have a great army encamped here, ready for battle!" Neranya exclaimed incredulously.
Duncan solemnly replied, "And if the Archdemon shows itself tonight, our numbers will count for nothing. Only a Grey Warden may withstand the Archdemon and kill it."
Curiosity now gnawed at Neranya's mind. "What is an Archdemon?"
Duncan sat down on a wooden crate as he began to explain, "The Archdemon is an Old God who has been imprisoned in the depths of the world long ago, long before even the very first humans had set foot upon Thedas. The Darkspawn eventually find an Old God and corrupt it with their Taint, thus transforming it into an Archdemon."
An Old God? Like... the old ones from my dreams. "What does an Archdemon look like?"
"The Archdemons take the form of great dragons, terrible and wicked in appearance."
By the Nine. Just like in my dreams! "So the Archdemon leads the Darkspawn?"
Duncan nodded at her, not saying a word. Neranya wondered if the Archdemon could be affected by her own power as Dragonborn.
"I am sorry to cut this short, but I must commence with the Joining." Duncan said as he stood up. "I must ask that you do not observe the ritual, for it is a carefully guarded secret. Afterward, you may accompany me in my meeting with the King, if you wish."
"Of course." She gave a respectful bow. Even though Neranya had little interest in actually joining the Wardens, she did not object to aiding them. Especially if it meant the possibility of slaying this 'Archdemon' and returning to Skyrim!
Duncan walked away, leaving Neranya alone. She sat on a stack of crates and closed her eyes to rest a bit before the great battle actually begins. The crazy events of this day had taken their toll. Even though Neranya was the Dragonborn, her body was not freed from the limitations of mortality.
-ooo-ooo-
All was dark as sleep finally took hold. At first everything was still.
Eventually an ethereal light formed from the darkness and continually expanded from that point, until the darkness became no more. Now she was in a strange realm, one that resembled the endless conundrums of the Madgod Sheogorath's plane of Oblivion. Except there was one major difference.
A great, dark city in the ethereal sky could be seen, ever present, unlike everything else that seemed to shift and morph into impossible forms. Waves of evil corruption streamed forth from the dark city like ripples in a pond.
A voice began whispering forbidden secrets into her mind... But not a soul was present. She willed herself to ignore the subtle whispering, and it stopped immediately. However, she could not help but feel otherworldly presences shadowing her passage through this strange ethereal realm. Some benevolent, some otherwise. She felt completely different here than when she was in Sovngarde, which was essentially a plane of Aetherius.
Is this the Fade?
The surroundings suddenly began to settle into more familiar shapes, forming paths and ruined buildings that seemed ethereal yet strangely tangible enough to walk on.
All of a sudden, everything was stripped away and Neranya floated there with nothing around her. A series of sparks appeared from above, which eventually seemed to coalesce into the... Sun?
She remembered that Aldmeri lore stated that Magnus, the source of all magic, took the form of a blazing star. Essentially Magnus was the Sun.
Instantly she felt invigorated with the familiar sensation of magic surging forth from her body. She found that she could now cast magic once more.
All of a sudden, everything went black.
-ooo-ooo-
"Neranya. It's time." A familiar voice said.
Neranya groggily awoke to find Alistair and the other Warden Recruit standing in front of her. Both Daveth and Ser Jory were absent.
When she looked out upon the courtyard, she noticed that the army was entirely absent as well. The battle has begun already?
"I hope I haven't missed the battle!" Neranya was panic-stricken.
Alistair smiled at the elf. "Don't worry, the battle itself hasn't begun yet. The army is deployed in the valley below."
Neranya sighed in relief, for she dreaded missing out on the great battle. "Where have Daveth and Ser Jory gone to?"
Both Alistair and the Recruit hung their heads in sorrow.
"Dead?" Neranya asked, stunned with disbelief. "How?"
"I cannot tell you."
"Shor, please guide their souls to Sovngarde." Neranya whispered, not realizing that Alistair heard what she had said.
"What is 'Shor'? Some kind of weird Elven god?"
"I cannot say..." Neranya replied, voice laced with sarcasm. Even though Neranya herself was not a Nord; it was because of her destiny as the Dragonborn and her firsthand experience of Sovngarde itself that she now fully subscribes to Nordic beliefs.
Being the light-hearted human that he is, Alistair couldn't help but chuckle at Neranya's sarcasm while the other recruit simply shook his head.
"Are we going into battle?" Neranya asked with eager anticipation, especially since she had essentially re-learned how to use magic again.
"We are to attend a meeting with the King, to discuss strategy. After we're done, we are to join in the fighting." the Warden recruit said.
"You know, you still haven't introduced yourself..." Neranya crossed her arms, waiting for the recruit's answer.
The recruit cleared his throat and formally introduced himself. "Please forgive me, milady. I am Aedan Cousland, the son of Teyrn Cousland..." a shadow descended upon his face when he finished the last sentence.
Neranya was momentarily taken aback by the recruit's exceedingly polite demeanor. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Aedan. I am Neranya." she replied with a respectful tone.
Aedan slightly blushed and bowed before her in respect.
"I must ask... what is a 'teyrn'?" Neranya innocently asked.
Alistair chuckled and answered her question. "A teyrn is a noble of the kingdom of Ferelden. Sort of like a governor. Their station ranks just above that of an arl in the Fereldan nobility."
Arls and Jarls. This land is like Skyrim in many ways.
Aedan scowled at Alistair's last sentence. "Arl Rendon Howe has revealed himself to be a craven traitor and has taken my family's castle in siege. His men then proceeded to slaughter my family and friends, down to every last child..."
"I am sorry for your loss." Neranya replied, with genuine sorrow in her voice.
Alistair beckoned for the both of them to follow. "Come. The meeting is about to start."
Neranya followed Alistair and Aedan as they jogged up the path over to where the meeting was supposed to take place. When they arrived at the pavilion, she noticed that Duncan was there with several other men. One was clad in highly ornate gold-plated armor, and he had a huge greatsword clasped onto his back. The man standing next to him had long black hair and he wore similarly ornate yet plain steel armor.
The man in the golden armor was detailing plans with both Duncan and his companion.
"Ah, Duncan. I see your recruits are ready for action." the man said.
"They are, your Majesty." Duncan gave a short bow.
The King noticed Neranya among the Wardens. "Who's this? I have not seen her among the recruits you've brought."
Neranya noticed that the King bore a striking resemblance to Alistair. It was as if he were a twin brother.
"She is not of the Wardens, but she has agreed to accompany the recruits during the battle."
Neranya nervously spoke up, not knowing exactly what to say. "I... am Neranya, your Majesty."
The King replied with a jovial voice. "I am Cailan Theirin, King of Ferelden." He gave a short bow. "It honors me to make an acquaintance with an individual such as yourself." He then pointed to the other man, "This is Teyrn Loghain. He is my personal advisor and strategist."
"The honor is mine, your majesty."
Cailan turned to Duncan, much to the irritation of Loghain who was presently leaning over the map on the table. "Duncan, my heart is glad that I shall soon have the chance to fight alongside the Wardens." He now seemed to stare off into space, as if in some fantasy of his. "The King of Ferelden riding with the legendary Grey Wardens into battle against a tainted god. Glorious!"
"Your fascination with glory and legends shall be your undoing, Cailan. We must attend to reality." Loghain angrily said.
Cailan sighed and turned his attention back to the table. "Fine, speak your strategy..."
"Your men shall draw the bulk of the horde into the valley below. Once the horde has become committed to the valley, the signal shall be given for my men to charge out from cover–"
"To flank the Darkspawn. I got it."
Loghain stood straight and continued with his plan. "The signal for my assault shall be the lighting of the beacon atop the Tower of Ishal." He pointed to the great tower on the other side of Ostagar. "I have a few men stationed there. It's not a dangerous task but it is vital!"
"Alright, we shall send Alistair, Aedan, and Neranya there to ensure it gets lit." Cailan said. Duncan nodded in agreement with Cailan's decision.
"What? We don't get to be in the battle?" Alistair complained.
Duncan laid a hand on his shoulder. "This task has to be done. Besides, none of you are currently able to handle the Archdemon, if it should show itself." His expression became stern. "If it does, leave it to us."
"Yes, Duncan."
As the group deliberated amongst themselves, Neranya reached out with her senses. Since this Archdemon is a dragon, perhaps I can locate it...
After a moment of concentration, Neranya began gasping for breath and she held her hand up to her head, as if in pain. The Archdemon's evil presence was near at hand.
"THE DARKSPAWN HORDE DRAWS NEAR!" someone yelled out.
Duncan stood up straight and his face became stoic and impassive. "So it begins..." he said with a steely, foreboding voice.
The Battle of Ostagar is just about to begin. Obviously the next chapter will cover the battle.
I hope I've done at least a passable job at getting the dialogue during the meeting with King Cailan as close as I could to what is in the game.
However, I must stress that I will NOT be making the dialogue of this story exactly like it is in the game. It will be close, but never copied.
I'm not sure whether Knight-Captain Cullen makes an appearance at Ostagar or not. So, for the sake of my fic he does.
Guest Reviewer (Mike) on 4/9 has suggested that the Wardens be mysterious and hostile to my DB. I've decided that that course would not be the best one. Courtesy and civility brings about mutual benefit.
How Neranya had regained the use of her arcane abilities was my best idea on how to access the power of Magnus from a different world. Basically Neranya can now access Magnus' power through the Fade. It may not be pretty or original, but it works. :)