Nestled between the Frostbacks, blanketed by snow and shielded from civilization from tall mountains, lay the small village of Haven. Previously occupied by cultists until Warden's arrival sometime around 9:20, under the order of late Divine Justinia V, Haven was restored into a refuge for pilgrims seeking the wisdom of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. And further, after the chantry explosion, this place became a refuge for all— believers and nonbelievers alike.
Somewhere in the distance from the main village, a small convoy drags along the frost-covered roads, inching ever closer to the town, an air of profound misery and hunger clouding around it. A Dalish elf messes nervously with the hems of her glove as she rides silently atop a horse while a dwarf looks at her in concern. They ride next to the carriage, harboring within it a sleeping beast— in this world, a symbol of possible destruction, in another, a harbinger of hope and keeper of the world itself. A mouse pokes its head out of a small pocket, watching the carriage nervously. At night, it slips along the edges of the carriage, careful not to wake anyone as it comes to the woman's bound hands and attempts to break the knot. Futile was the endeavor, and so as the sun inevitably showed its face over the horizon, so did the mouse turn away from the coming of dawn, slinking back into the comfort of the night.
The convoy trudges on through the snow. The beast sleeps restlessly, the snow falls harshly, and so does the breach pulse with putrid life, a signal of the end days. And yet, they trudge on towards this mark, towards Haven, towards home.
And so does our story resume here.