A cold feeling travels down my spine as I look around the cave. I don't know when I got here, but all I know is that I do not want to be in the Deep Roads yet. In fact, in all of my gameplays, it was the last place I went due to the sheer fact it is absolutely horrible to go through. The darkspawn, the spiders….. just ew. I hesitate to wander around, but do so anyways because why the fuck not. I reach the end of the cave and see a massive crack in the ground and realize where I am.

Oh, whoopdedoo. I am right where the darkspawn are and where the fucking archdemon is. Great, I am going to get eaten by a dragon. Yay! Can you tell I am so ecstatic about that? If you say yes, you have obviously not been paying attention to anything that has been happening so far. Who the fuck wants to be eaten by a dragon?

I hesitantly look down the ravine and see the hundreds… no thousands of darkspawn. They were marching at the bottom of the ravine and they had so many weapons. If I'm being completely honest it was terrifying to see. I could hardly believe that I was going to have to face that eventually. I'm not ready at all to face them… will I ever be ready though? All of a sudden, I hear a loud flapping behind me and air is harshly pounding onto me. I can barely look up before seeing the massive dragon soaring above me. All of the breath in me is now gone. It is like everything has been forcefully pulled out of me at the sight. Fear surrounds and drowns me as I can't tear my eyes away from it. The blood red scales that cover the entire body, some of those scales pointing up which makes them look like massive daggers, the long claws that look more like swords than claws. It was the epitome of danger itself. Mind you, I have never seen a dragon before and by everything holy above I never want to see one again. It stops its flight to land on a stone bridgeway to look down on the army it has amassed.

The archdemon seems to feel my presence and looks directly at where I am. Now frozen to my spot, there is no movement or air coming out of me. It lets out a roar and then opens its mouth where I can now see what looks like hundreds of teeth staring at me. A purple light emerges from the back of its throat towards me now, this is where I die. I close my eyes and cover my face with my arms, hoping that doing that will somehow stop the fire hurdling close. Just as I can feel the beginnings of burning white pain-

I gasp for breath with a choked scream making its way out of my throat. I force the top half of my body into an upright position and frantically look around. I am surrounded by trees, there is a cold wind that blows softly through the little clearing in the woods. The fire crackling in front, grounds me in the reality that is now. I take a few shuddering breaths to allow relaxing thoughts of safety and peace come through me. Finally opening my eyes, I stare into the fire before turning the attention to a pair of amber eyes filled with worry.

"Bad dreams, huh?" Alistair asks, hiding the worry behind a sense of calm and understanding.

I scoff and rub the side of my face, "It felt… real."

I curl myself into a little ball and continue to keep eye contact, barely peeking over my knees. He gives a small, almost sad, smile, "Well it is real, sort of." He looks into the fire, giving a slight pause before continuing, "You see, part of being a Grey Warden is being able to hear the darkspawn. That's what your dream was. Hearing them. The archdemon, it… "talks" to the horde, and we feel it just as they do. That's why we know this is really a Blight."

"The archdemon is that dragon," I state quietly, hoping he doesn't hear me.

"Well, I don't really know if it is a dragon, but it sure looks like one." Of course he heard me. "But yes, that's the archdemon."

He looks at me again, "Eventually you can block the dreams out, but it takes a bit. Some of the older Grey Wardens say they can understand the archdemon a bit, but I sure can't. Anyhow, when I heard you thrashing around, I thought I should tell you. It was scary at first for me, too."

I finally lift my head out of my knees and give a small smile. I uncurl myself and stretch out on the sleeping bag, medieval of course. I look at Alistair, "Thank you, I really appreciate it."

He lets out a laugh, standing, "That's what I'm here for. To deliver unpleasant news and witty one-liners. Anyhow, you're up now, right? We should probably pull up camp and leave."

"Alistair, did you want to talk about Duncan?"

All humor is washed from his face and an unspoken sadness is washed over the pair of us, "You don't have to do that. I know you didn't know him as long as I did."

I stand up and start shoving things in my pack, "But he was like a father to you. I understand and am here for you if you need to talk."

His shoulders drop, "I… should have handled it better. Duncan warned me right from the beginning that this could happen. Any of us could die in battle. I shouldn't have lost it, not when so much is riding on us, not with the Blight and… everything. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize," I shake my head, flinging my pack over my shoulder.

His pack is now flung over his shoulder and we start slowly heading to the group, "I'd like to have a proper funeral for him. Maybe once this is all done, if we're still alive. I don't think he had any family to speak of."

"He had you."

He lets out a sad laugh, "I suppose he did. It probably sounds stupid, but part of me wishes I was with him. In the battle, I feel like I abandoned him."

"It's not stupid at all."

His head is the one to shake now, "Of course, I'd be dead, then, wouldn't I? It's not like that would have make him happier. I think he came from Highever, or so he said. Maybe I'll go up out there sometime, see about putting up something in his honor. I don't know."

He looks at me now, "Have you.. had someone close to you die? Not that I mean to pry, I'm just…"

My head nods remembering my great-grandmother and grandfather, "Yeah, I have… but that was before I came… to the tower."

He nods, "That must have felt a lot like when I got sent to the Chantry. You mages don't even get a say in the matter, after all. Thank you. Really, I mean it. It was good to talk about it, at least a little."

I give a small smile, "Maybe I can go to Highever with you, when you go, of course."

"I'd like that. So would he. I think."

With Redcliffe in the distance, I feel a hand on my arm and see Alistair staring at me with a worried look on his face. I stop walking and turn to face him while he starts looking around nervously. I let everyone walk ahead of us, with Brali and Adalwin giving me a questioning look. I simply shrug my shoulders in response and wait for us to be alone, well as much as we can be alone.

"Look, can we talk for a moment? I need to tell you something I, ah, should have probably told you earlier," Alistair stutters, looking anywhere but at me.

"Yeah, sure! What's on your mind?" I ask, tilting my head in questioning.

He looks at me with a nervous smile, "I told you before how Arl Eamon raised me, right? That my mother was a serving girl at the castle and he took me in?"

I nod remembering that small conversation before we got to Redcliffe.

"So, I remember you mentioning that Arl Eamon raised you?"

Alistair gets a goofy smile on his face, "Did I say that? I meant that dogs raised me. Giant, slobbering dogs from the Anderfels. A whole pack of them, in fact."

I let out a small laugh, "Really? That must have been tough for them.."

"Well, they were flying dogs, you see. Surprisingly strict parents, too and devout Andrastians, to boot."

"And these dogs sold you to the Chantry, I assume?"

"Oh, there you go listening to me again. You'd think you'd have gotten past that already. I ended up in the Chantry, sure, but I didn't start there." He lets out a dramatic sigh, "Let's see, how do I explain this? I'm a bastard. And before you make any smart comments, I mean the fatherless kind. My mother was a serving girl in Redcliffe castle who died when I was very young. Arl Eamon wasn't my father, but he took me in anyhow and put a roof over my head. He was good to me, and he didn't have to be. I respect the man and I don't blame him any more for sending him off to the Chantry when I was old enough."

"Why did he send you off to the Chantry?" I let the question out before I can help it.

"Arl Eamon married a young girl from Orlais, which caused all sorts of problems between him and the king because it was so soon after the war. But he loved her." Alistair says, getting this look in his eyes. "Anyhow, the new arlessa resented the rumors which pegged me as his bastard. They weren't true, but of course they existed. The arl didn't care, but she did. So off I was packed to the nearest monastery at age ten. Just as well. The arlessa made sure the castle wasn't a home to me by that point. She despised me."

I'm sure I had a disgusted look on my face, "What an awful thing to do to a child."

Alistair simply shrugged, "Maybe. She felt threatened by my presence, I can see that now. I can't say I blame her. She wondered if the rumors were true herself, I bet. I remember I had an amulet with Andraste's holy symbol on it. The only thing I had of my mother's. I was so furious at being sent away I tore it off and threw it at the wall and it shattered."

He gets a sad look on his face and shakes his head, as if he is furious with himself, "Stupid, stupid thing to do. The arl came by the monastery a few times to see how I was, but I was stubborn. I hated it there and blamed him for everything… and eventually he just stopped coming."

I put a hand on his arm to show him some comfort, "You were young."

"And raised by dogs. Or I may as well have been, the way I acted. But maybe all young bastards act like that, I don't know. All I know is that the arl is a good man and well-loved by the people. He also was King Cailan's uncle, so he has a personal motivation to see Loghain pay for what he did. Anyway… that's really all there is to the story."

"The reason he did that was because… well, because my father was King Maric. Which made Cailan my… half-brother, I suppose," He finishes rather nervously, and then here comes the acting like I have no clue about this.

My head tilts, "But doesn't that make you an heir to the throne?"

He jolts back as if shocked, "Maker's breath, I hope not! I don't think so… you don't think so, do you? I'm a bastard, and nobody even knows about me. I would have told you, but… it never really meant anything to me. I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Cailan's rule and so they kept me secret. I've never talked about it to anyone. Everyone who knew either resented me for it or they coddled me… even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it. I didn't want you to know, as long as possible. I'm sorry."

I nod slightly, "I guess I can understand. Do the others know about this?"
He sighs in relief, "Yes, I told them along the road… you were the last."

"Why was I the last one you told?" I didn't mind that I was the last, I was just curious as to why he waited until now to tell me.

"I was, uh, nervous, I guess? I was worried about what you would think. Anyways, that's what I had to tell you. I thought you should know about it." He responded, rubbing his neck and looking away.

I take this opportunity to tease him, "Are you sure? You're not hiding anything else?"
He smirks, "Besides my unholy love of fine cheeses and a minor obsession with my hair, no. That's it. Just the prince thing."

"So, should I be referring to you as Prince Alistair?"
"No!" He shouts, "Maker's breath, just hearing that gives me a heart attack! It's not true, anyhow… I'm the son of a commoner. It was always made clear that the throne is not in my future. And that's fine by me. No, if there's an heir to be found, it's Arl Eamon himself. He's not of royal blood, but he is Cailan's uncle… and more importantly, very popular with the people."

He then trails off, "Though… if he's really as sick as we've heard… no, I don't want to think about that. I really don't. So there you have it. Now can we move on, and I'll just pretend you still think I'm some… nobody who was too lucky to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens."

I scoff, "Then what will that make me?"

"The reason I think we have a chance of setting things right."

"I… I thought I saw travelers coming down the road, though I scarcely believed it. Have you come to help us?" Tomas, a young man with light brown hair, a pale complexion, and a long face, says hopefully.

Adalwin is the first to respond, "What do you mean? Is there a problem?"

Tomas' whole posture deflates, "So you… don't know? Has nobody out there heard?"

I pipe in, "We heard Arl Eamon is sick, if that's what you mean."

"He could be dead, for all we know. Nobody's heard from the castle in days." Tomas affirms. "We're under attack. Monsters come out of the castle every night and attack us until dawn. Everyone's been fighting… and dying."

Morrigan scoffs, "Apparently everyone seems to agree that a Blight is the perfect time to start killing each other. Marvelous, really."

"We've no army to defend us, no arl and no king to send us help. So many are dead, and those left are terrified they're next."

Alistair is the next to pop in, "Hold on. What is this evil that's attacking you?"

Tomas shrugs sadly, "I… I don't rightly know; I'm sorry. Nobody does. I should take you to Bann Teagan. He's all that's holding us together. He'll want to see you."

Alistair pops up in recognition, "Bann Teagan? Arl Eamon's brother? He's here?"

Tomas nods, "Yes. It's not far, if you'll come with me."

We all follow Tomas down to the small Redcliffe village, and we must appear to be a funny sight or the start of a bad joke. Two dwarves, two humans, two elves, one mabari, and one qunari all heading down to the village chantry.

Stepping into the chantry, it looks like there have been people sleeping in here, just like Lothering's chantry. It has many sleeping bags with women and children inside. There are bookcases littered around the building and three statues of Andraste in a small rotunda at the back of the building. There are various carpets on the floor varying from green to red. Red banners hang on the left wall near the entrance and blankets are stacked on top of barrels. I see a woman holding her daughter in her lap with, presumably, her mother sitting near her. At the very end of the hall stands an older man with brown hair, a strong nose, sharp cheekbones, and a slight tanned complexion. He has a sword on his hip sheathed and a shield nearby. He seems to be keeping a close eye on those around, this is who we can all assume is Bann Teagan.

Tomas walks us up to Bann Teagan. The bann then begins to speak, "It's… Tomas, yes? And who are these people with you? They're obviously not simple travelers."

Tomas gives a slight bow, "No, my lord. They just arrived, and I thought you would want to see them."
"Well done, Tomas. Greetings, friends. My name is Teagan, Bann of Rainesfere, brother to the arl."

Alistair steps forward, "I remember you, Bann Teagan, though the last time we met I was a lot younger and… covered in mud."

"Covered in mud?" Bann Teagan gets a look of recognition on his face, "... Alistair? It is you, isn't it? You're alive! This is wonderful news!"

"Still alive, yes, though not for long if Teryn Loghain has anything to say about it," Alistair says snidely.

Teagan nods, "Indeed. Loghain would have us believe all Grey Wardens died along with my nephew, amongst other things."

Adalwin crosses his arms, "No, not all of us died."
"How many of you are there?" Teagan asks.

"Five of us, if I'm still counting correctly," I pipe in.

"Ah," he acknowledges. "So you are all Grey Wardens as well? A pleasure to meet you. I wish it were under better circumstances. You're here to see my brother? Unfortunately, that might be a problem. Eamon is gravely ill. No one has heard from the castle in days. No guards patrol the walls, and no one has responded to my shouts. The attacks started a few nights ago. Evil… things… surged from the castle. We drove them back, but many perished during the assault."

Brali asks, "What evil things are you talking about?"
Teagan looks down to the bright red haired dwarf, "Some call them the walking dead; decomposing corpses returning to life with a hunger for human flesh… They hit again the next night. Each night they come, with greater numbers. With Cailan dead and Loghain starting a war over the throne, no one responds to my urgent calls for help."

Teagan then looks at Alistair, "I have a feeling tonight's assault will be the worst yet. Alistair, I hate to ask, but I desperately need the help of you and your friends."

Alistair gets a sad look on his face, "It isn't just up to me. Though the Grey Wardens don't stand much chance against Loghain without Arl Eamon."

"Of course we'll help," I chime in, and I can see 'Morrigan disapproves' even before she speaks.

"How pointless, to help these villagers fight an impossible battle. One would think we had enough to contend with elsewhere."

Bann Teagan gets a smile on his face, "Thank you! Thank you, this… means more to me than you can guess. Tomas, please tell Murdock what transpired. Then return to your post."

"Yes, my lord," Tomas then heads outside to the surrounding village.

Teagan speaks again, "Now then. There is much to do before night falls. I've put two men in charge of the defense outside. Murdock, the village mayor, is outside the chantry. Ser Perth, one of Eamon's knights, is just up the cliff at the windmill, watching the castle. You may discuss with them the preparations for the coming battle."

I nod and follow to where our little group has gathered in the center of the chantry. Revas is speaking to them, "So I say we split into two groups to cover more ground in less time."

Morrigan nods, "'Tis the option that makes the most sense."

Adalwin's gruff voice pops in, "I agree."

"So how are we splitting this up?" I ask.

Revas looks at me, "You will go with Sten, Adalwin, and Brali, and I will go with Alistair, Morrigan, and Leliana. I'll go speak to Ser Perth, while you go to Murdock. Everyone in agreement?"

A flurry of nods go around and I lay my hand on the head of Bean. I watch as the group heads out of the chantry to go find Ser Perth on the top of the hill. I briefly remember passing him as we headed down here.

Getting to Murdock was easy enough, he was standing outside and he was enough to recognize. He had a big black mustache and a helmet on. We had discussed what he needed: more bodies to help fight (specifically someone called Dwyn) and Owen, the blacksmith. I sent Adalwin and Sten to get the other fighters (and may have mentioned for them to go to the tavern to get some more bodies), and Brali and I were going to work on getting Owen to start making more weapons and armor. I see Revas and his group wandering around to the general store to go get the barrels full of oil. Before Brali and I go to get Owen, I look for Bevin in his house and try to get the sword and Brali goes to give the lockbox to Jetta in the chantry. After getting the sword and giving Kaitlyn a big stack of gold. As we meet out of the door I see Dwyn (a dwarven fighter with a two handed weapon), Lloyd (a bigger man who is just as sleezy as he looks in the game), and Berwick (an elven archer sent to spy on the castle). Brali, then, knocks on the wooden door.

"Go away, curse you!" a male voice shouts from behind the door, "Leave me in peace! You've already taken everything out of my stores! There's nothing left!"

Brali then shouts back, "Is this Owen, the blacksmith? I need to speak with you."

The voice shouts back, "Oh? Who is that? What do you want? I've been through enough…"

"We'd prefer not to speak through a door. Can we come in?" Brali asks… well more like shouts.

"Certainly not! I don't know you and I don't want to. Off you go."

I chime in, "Please, we just want to talk to you."

"Hmm. All right, all right, though I don't know why you're so determined. Here, I'll get the locks…"

We hear the door unlock and we both glance at each other before heading inside.

"By the stone! This smells worse than a dwarven tavern!" Brali shouts covering her nose. And I'm partial to agreement because Jesus, it smells horrible. Imagine a very foul beer, now imagine that beer on fire, then that fire is shoved into manure. That is what it smells like.

"He has definitely been drinking," I mutter to myself.

Owen leans on the post near his forge, "So I let you in. You wanted to talk; not we're talking. Mind telling me who you are?"

I try to breathe normally and not puke due to the smell, "My name is Caerlion and this is Brali, we're Grey Wardens helping Bann Teagan."

He scoffs, "Grey Wardens, is it? Huh. It takes all kinds. Funny, you two didn't sound like an elf or a dwarf through the door. Can't say I expected that."

How are we supposed to sound?

Owen continues, "Anyhow, my name's Owen… though you might already know that. Care to join me as I get besotted? Or is there something in particular you wanted?"

Brali asks a very simple question, "Why have you locked yourself in the smithy?"

"My daughter," Owen says with grief and distraught in his voice. "She's been my life since my wife passed on two years ago. Now she's dead or soon to be. I don't care what happens to me, or the village, or anyone."

She goes again, "So you intend to drink yourself to death?"

"Why not? It's not like we're going to live past the night anyhow. Or are you two going to save us?"

She shrugs (this is what it feels like to be a fly on the wall, huh?), "We intend to try."

"Is that so? Huh. Maybe it's the drink talking, but you almost sound like you believe that." Owen shrugs, "It'd do me a world of good to think maybe someone like you could go in and find her… provided any of us live through the night."

Brali continues, "And if she is dead?"

"It… would be better than going to my grave wondering."

I finally chime in, "What about the militia? They need your help."

Owen looks at me, "If you'll look for Valena, I'll re-open the smithy and make some repairs for the militia. I can do that much."

Brali and I look at each other and I nod, "We'll do our best."

Owen shakes his head, "Not good enough. Murdock said the same damned thing and I didn't believe him, either. I want a promise. Promise me that you'll look for her, that you'll bring her back to me if you can."

"We promise," Brali affirms.

Owen nods and looks relieved, "I'll accept that. It's something to hope for, at least. Right, then. It seems I have some work to do, re-lighting the forge and I suppose I'll have to find some iron. Hmm, maybe at the mill? Bah, Murdock just better send his men here as soon as possible if I'm gonna get to all these repairs and get them done by nightfall. If you need anything done… well, just let me know. I've got a lot to do now, so you'll have to excuse me."

After listening to his little monologue, Brali and I leave the smithy and let Murdock know that Owen has opened the smithy again. After we finish speaking to Murdock, we head towards where the rest of our little party is to fight some zombies. Hurrah, I'm so excited. That was sarcasm, by the way, if you couldn't tell. I hate fighting. Oh, great now I'm monologuing, what a way to come full circle. Ok, onto the fighting, enough of this stupid monologuing.