Disclaimer: we do not own the Elder Scrolls or Dragon Age series.
Co-Author and Beta: Etheral-23
Undead Siege: Act I
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The dark skies gradually brightened as Nocturnal's veil slowly lifted and Grandmother's domain retreated, heralding the coming of his Grandfather, but he was not visible on the horizon yet.
There were no songs of early birds, nor the soft smell of dew on the grass. There was only the sound of crackling flames, and putrid stench of rotten flesh.
Oryrn's black blade buried itself on the brain of a moving corpse, its muscle mass nearly nonexistent, just skin clung to bones. It had tried to crawl away, as its legs were missing, but the ebony knight was not about to let any stragglers escape, no matter how insignificant they might seem.
While to him the sight was not extraordinary, to these people of Redcliffe the image of a walking dead was straight from a nightmare.
And there had been many last night, hundreds of them.
The dunmer's helmeted face turned to Sereda, the dwarven lass dragging a corpse back to a great pile of bodies. Flies were gathering around the filth, the smell coming from them enough to empty weaker stomachs. All around them soldiers of Redcliffe were doing the same, gathering the bodies, both of the fallen undead and their own that had perished in the attack, to be burnt.
They had arrived without warning, swarming the village in a miasma of foul green magic, attacking everyone. It was only thanks to Teagan's quick response and their knights' efforts that the villagers weren't slaughtered to the last.
Oryrn and his party were swift to give their aid. Shale's mighty fists tearing any undead to shreds, while Sereda's stalwart defense of the villagers saved many a life, all the while Faren bathed himself in alchemical concoctions that rendered him invisible, allowing him to strike down any undead he came across without worrying for his safety.
He himself had discarded all thoughts of secrecy, calling forth aedric magics to slay the restless dead, sacred javelins raining down from the sky, bursts of blinding light. The knights still talking amongst themselves at how he had conjured a miniature replica of the sun, reducing every undead nearby to ash. It was as if the Maker himself had used him as his instrument, they praised, blessing him with divine light to protect them. Even now many of the pyres had been alit with his own golden fire.
They had survived another grim night, but there had been so many undead, the soldiers' own numbers took a heavy blow...
Though nowhere nearly as bad as the first night, so many were indiscriminately slaughtered that it was short of being a massacre. The new loses weighed heavily on everyone, but mourning could not come just yet. A bloodied and dirty Teagan huffed as he dragged the body of a Templar to the pyres; "That was a fourth of our men." He laid the Templar's body next to the others. "Must we truly burn our recent fallen?"
"Whatever spell brought the dead back could easy stir our comrades," Oryrn spoke with resolution; "Once this is over you can give them the proper rites."
A grim face bore on Faren; "Those will be long sad days my friends."
Silence engulfed the group once more as they continued burning all the dead. Through the opening of his helmet Oryrn saw members of families were held back by soldiers. Their voices horse from screaming, tears flowed from their eyes as they saw their loved dead ones put to the fire. His heart ached for each of them, for nearly everyone lost someone close to them during these evil nights.
Adorned in Templar armor, a man with short brunette hair, fair skin, and thin mustache came up to the Dunmer; "Time for your groups' break Ser Oryrn. Fresher people will deal with the rest, and we need our holy Templar here at his best."
"Alright, Knight-Commander Harrith." The elf sighed deeply while Sereda and Faren stretched with long groans.
Tiredly the trio made their way to the tavern. Entering they were greeted by the warm and relieved smile of the beautiful redhead waitress Bella. "Our holy knight and stout and stubborn dwarves remain with us." Many of the patrons inside wore grateful expressions as many lifted a pint to them. "You can take the helmet off now you know Ser Oryrn."
A low grunt came from the elf as he did so, he shook his head; "Better my lady?"
The waitress didn't react at the sight of his gray skin and red eyes, merely delivered three pints of ale to their table, along with bread.
With the shock of the first attack, Oryrn in his haste to arm himself bolted out of his room, having forgotten to cast his illusionary disguise to change his skin and eyes. Many looks of shock and fear were given to him at first, something that was quickly replaced with awe and gratitude the moment he cut down scores of the undead, saving many lives in the process.
'Light bringer' they called him, an apt term given his casting of holy magic. His use of the arcane was overlooked by the Chantry and the Templars in these dire circumstances. The dwarves were equally rewarded for their service to Redcliffe; their meals were free, as was their staying at the inn. Sereda helped a great deal at organizing the men with Teagan, proving her ability to command troops.
Troops whose numbers were dwindling.
"We'll need to recruit from the civilians at this pace" Sereda grimly pointed out.
"Armed peasants against walking corpses? I don't like those odds" Faren said before eating a piece of bread, resting his arms on the table, tired from the fight.
Oryrn sighed, running a hand over his forehead. "Let's just hope my family and their companions arrive quickly then"
Sereda's face shone with emotion; "Would be glad to see Marcus again." Never did she think she would have heard the voice of her human friend after being exiled. But when Oryrn spoke to his family using his ring, shock etched on her face upon hearing Marcus's voice.
Both friends had a long slightly awkward talk; by the stone had madness claimed all of Thedas. His family nearly murdered and betrayed by a man Marcus loved as an uncle. Reciting Bhelen's actions had sent a wave of rage (if the shouting was anything to hear) over Marcus. Everything was just so wrong...
Oryrn sipped his drink; "How did you two become friends anyways?" A rare moment of curiosity struck the elven Templar.
"Oh that is a story," Sereda slowly grinned as memories of a happier time came. "Bryce came via an envoy of King Maric. He had brought his sons along." She chuckled; "Trian and I got into a fight with Fergus and Marcus after we called them tiny Nugs with barely any muscles on their bones." The woman shook her head; "Oh was both our fathers angry at that."
"I can't imagine them being happy" The elf dryly replied, "Potential political incident and all"
"Oh a few scraps after drinks, that's just good ole dwarven hospitality" Faren snorted.
"That it is" The former princess agreed, "And hey, got to see those surfacers weren't all talk. Stayed in touch with Marcus through letters after that"
"Brawled and became friends... your people have a lot in common with some cultures in Tamriel" He's seen plenty of that in Skyrim and Hammerfell. "This Marcus my family is traveling with sounds like he'll be of great aid"
"Oh he will be, trust me. Marcus is the kind of person who's always in control of the situation"
XxX ~ xx ~ XxX
Marcus was very much not in control of the current situation. It was hard to feel in control when the wagon you were sitting on was traveling so fast it jumped widely with every bump on the road. He struggled to remain on the vehicle by holding to it for dear life, something his other companions were doing.
He didn't think it was possible for a wagon to move this fast, but most wagons weren't pulled by three mares made completely out of ice.
Bodahn was gracious enough to the let the group barrow his wagon given the emergency at Redcliffe. However Miara and Serana replaced the Dwarf's trusty old horse Kalnath with three horses made of pure solid ice. Frost Mares Serana quickly explained as they group had gotten ready and Sofie took hold of the reigns of the wagon.
Miara took up her mount Shadowmare as Odahviing came along as well. Their pace had been steady and quick since they did not know the full extent of Arl Eamon's condition. It had been their second night of traveling when Oryrn had reached them about the undead horde appearing and attacking the citizens of Redcliffe and the Hinterlands that they had picked up the pace with hurry.
At present Serana held the reins of the wagon which barreled through the grasslands at an insane level of speed. Moving even faster was Shadowmare, ahead of the wagon with dust trailing behind. Exhaustion was no issue for the undead stallion or daedric mares as they charged on. Though for some riders on the wagon they wished they could slow down.
Neria and Brianna had held onto Bran and Loke who both whimpered as the girls screeched every time they hit a bump. Sten's eyes were as wide as physically possible holding onto the wooden rails beside Marcus. Leliana had buried herself in Sofie's back, the Nord woman unaffected by the speed as she stared onward with Sarya beside her.
Elven swearing came from both Gin and Theron as Morrigan held onto both men with Alistair screaming in utter horror. This was the scene both farmers and soldiers saw as the group barreled passed them.
"Miara!" Her vampire lover shouted, calling her lover's attention, making her slow Shadowmere a bit to ride closer to the wagon. "There's foul magic in the air!"
"How foul?!"
"Smells like death!"
"She's right!" Morrigan did a remarkable job at keeping her voice even, "It's all over the Hinterlands, like someone had casually weaved hexes all over the place!" She yelped as a large bump sent her falling face first, landing perfectly between Brianna's legs.
"...Can't say I haven't thought about it, Morri! But now's not the time!" Morrigan conjured water and splashed her in the face. "I deserved that"
"Hmm" No doubt by some spell, Sarya was completely unaffected by the very hazardous ride. Her figure remaining perfectly still despite how much the vehicle shook. "Indeed, for it to have spread to far among the Hinterlands, just how far are the undead rising from?"
"Couldn't you just gone to your brother already?!" Alistair shouted, "Done that weird teleporty thingy of yours?!"
"I wanted to enjoy the trip. Teleporting everywhere robs you of the chance to sight-see"
"Then why even make that 'fast travel thing' in the Peak?!"
"It goes back and forth between it and other locations; I actually need to set up a beacon to another location so it works"
"Well isn't that fascinating?!" The senior Warden shouted, and props to him, he still managed to sound very sarcastic despite the situation.
Bravely lifting her head from Sofie's back, Leliana looked over at Miara and Serana; "Pouvons-nous ralentir s'il vous plaît!"
"We don't know Orlesian Leli," Serana dryly quipped.
However the redhead was too frightened to be able to speak common so she kept yelling back in said foreign tongue.
"She is begging you to slow down!" Marcus addressed as he did know the language of Orlais from his studies from Aldous. "We are here already!"
The mothers look at one another before looking back ahead, steadily they finally begun to slow their respected horses as they neared a large injunction with several houses near a field. Nearly everyone not from Tamriel let out a relieved sigh as the wagon stopped in front of several soldiers and a farmer who stared wide eyed at the black stallion with glowing crimson eyes and three horses connected to a wagon made of pure ice.
"...You know, on a normal day this would be weird," the farmer muttered garnering a nod from the soldiers.
Collecting themselves, Marcus and the others quickly hopped out of the wagon with several (Alistair, Gin, and Neria) falling on their knees and holding the ground in prayer. Miara and Serana planted their feet to the ground and met by their daughters who quickly came over to the Redcliffe men; "Where's Oryrn?" The dunmer in disguise demanded.
The soldiers looked among themselves in confusion, before one pointed to the village further ahead. "Ser Oryrn is currently helping around, should you need-"
The rest of his words went unheard as they walked away before he could even finish. As the Wardens and their companions gathered themselves, rushing to keep up the pace, they began noticing the village had seen better days.
"Maker" Alistair muttered, "There's been a battle here" It made his heart throbs painfully, seeing his old childhood home in this state. There were piles of body, charred, they had been set ablaze.
"So many fallen" Neria nervously said, looking around. "How numerous were the undead?" She had seen far more death in Ostagar, but the sight of people being round up like that and disposed of like that was very unnerving to her.
Theron's eyes narrowed as he did not like the smell of the air; "We will find out once we get there. Or are we here?" He peered over to Marcus who shook his head.
"Bit of a walk now but we're still in the Hinterlands." His gaze was grim as he saw the destruction and death. "By everything that is holy..."
He and Alistair took over in front of the group as they knew the trail to the village proper. "I noticed nearly most of the grasslands we passed could resemble the Deadlands." Sofie muttered walking along.
"It would take a coven or one very powerful Necromancer to pull something like this off," Serana could feel the dark magic all around them. Foul and corrupt, it felt both similar and different to the Nordic vampire.
Strolling down a stone trail they near a massive stone wall with an open steel gate. On either side stood two men in armor, one a soldier the other a Templar. One came forward extending his hand; "I asked that you head back to wherever you come from. Darkness plagues these lands travelers."
Marcus came up to the men; "That's why we are here. Ser Oryrn relayed a message to us."
Both men perked up before they noticed Alistair and the others; "You're the Wardens he spoke of and the rest of your group!" The Templar spoke with relief; "Praise the Maker, Bann Teagan would like to speak with all of you. Ser Oryrn is in the village somewhere."
Garnering a nod from the former noble the group walked passed them into the village. Neria took note of an enormous windmill up on a large hill while the village itself was built on sections of a larger descending hillside. This was also connecting to a port with ships docked at the piers. Buildings of all designs littered the area with several large statues. To their left was a long stone bridge which likely connected to Redcliffe castle, Miara gathered.
As they neared the center of the village, they spotted a pair of knights talking with a very familiar and dear figure clad in black armor.
"We just don't have that amount of silver at hand" One of the knights replied with a shake of his head, his bronze-colored chainmail clinking with the action.
"Find any silverware you can, utensils, candelabrum, and jewelry, whatever, gather it and take it to the smith. We'll apply the melted silver to the weapons"
"Master Owen refuses to help!" The other knight said with frustration. "I know he mourns, but there are people dying here!"
"Then we'll have to convince him" Oryrn spoke firmly, but there was still sympathy in his eyes. "Go"
The knights saluted him and departed for their task. He sighed to himself, the exhaustion evident even as he held himself strong despite whatever plight was afflicting Redcliffe. As the tall dunmer rolled his neck he spotted the newcomers who were fast approaching, particularly the figures of his family. A sincere smile filled with relief graced his features.
"My son!" Miara embraced him tightly, followed by Serana. His armored arms returned the gesture.
His sisters were soon to join them, with Sarya jumping over his shoulder holding his neck tightly dangling off the ground. He gave his twin a mock glare as he knew tightened her hold uncomfortably on purpose. Sofie chuckled to herself, ruffling his hair as she would do when he was little.
"Got yourself into quite the pickle huh?" The muscular older sister teased, relieved to see him alright.
As his family gave him breathing room, he smiled at them. "Getting into trouble runs in the family"
Miara let out a soft laugh, smiling fondly turning to the others. "Everyone, this is our son Oryrn. Oryrn, these are our companions against the Blight"
Introductions were quick and to the point, there was much to do. Marcus stepped forth, asking; "What's going on here?"
"Like I informed you before, there are undead attacking the village" He grimly explained. "And it's been happening for at least three nights"
"Do you have any clue as to what's causing this?" Serana asked her son.
"None" He regretfully replied. "But from what I can guess, is that it's coming from there" He pointed at the direction of the Redcliffe Castle in the distance.
The mages focused on it and felt it, there inside the castle, was a heavy cloud of arcane energy swirling wildly. It was dark, foul, and very much dangerous. It was a miracle the Veil hadn't manifested any tears yet.
"T'is a small miracle the veil has not teared yet, but it could happen at any time given these events," Morrigan addressed as she stared towards Redcliffe castle's direction.
"She is right," Neria looked to Miara and Marcus; "We need to find the source."
The noble gave a nod while the Dragonborn gazed at her son; "Why is your illusion off?"
"When the first wave hit I did not think of masking myself. The people here and in the Hinterlands know of my appearance, so no need to hide yourself mother. Or you Sarya."
His sister shrugged as she let the illusion fade revealing her grey skin and red eyes; "Getting tired of doing that anyway."
Following suit Miara shifted her gaze to see a red haired man in hard leathers come towards them; "Marcus!"
Upon hearing his name the former noble peered to his left and a relieved sigh escaped him, extending his arm and hand; "Teagan. Maker it is good to see a friend."
"I feel the same, I am glad your group was able to get here as quickly as you did." their hand and arms clasped; "How are you holding up?" the Bann tried to question his words as delicately as possible. But by the expression of the Couslands face, it was still a fresh wound.
Marcus took in a deep breath; "We can discuss that later. I'm more concerned about you and your people. Here," He gestured to his companions; "These are my comrades."
"Any ally of the Wardens has an ally of Redcliffe" Teagan cordially nodded, looking at those in the group who donned the griffon. "You would not believe the nonsense Loghain is spouting about your order"
"Betrayal. Regicide. Conspiracy. Why not add stealing pies at this point?" Alistair jovially remarked, looking at the bann with nostalgia.
The red-haired man paused for a moment, his eyes taking in all the details of the senior Warden's face. A wide smile soon forms on his lips, making Marcus felt glad that there were still people in Redcliffe who cared for the former Templar. "Alistair, is that you?" He soon hugged the young man, palming him on the back a few times. "My goodness boy, I barely recognized you!"
"Well last time you saw me I had several layers of mud on me"
Oryrn addressed the Cousland, "There is someone here eager to meet you"
Marcus knew who he was talking about; he had heard her through Miara's ring before. He did not have to wait long as appearing from a corner of the Chantry, carrying a pile of lumber over her arms, accompanied by another dwarf in hard leathers, was the familiar sight of a dwarven woman with sapphire eyes, and brunette hair. Her eyes suddenly lit up, smiling in joy, the wood in her grasp forgotten.
"Marcus!" She quickly approached the young noble, making the other dwarf yelp as one of the logs fell on his foot.
"Sereda" The warrior said with jubilation. He instinctively nearly lowered himself to one knee. "It's so good to see-"
"No!" She held up her hand before pointing at his posture. "No kneeling. No need to drive home the fact I'm short to you long legs"
"Ah, right" He scratched his neck, remembering how early in their friendship (when it was less of a friendship and more like poking fun at the other over banal things). He grasped her arm, palming her shoulder. "I'm glad to see you again my friend"
"The feeling is very mutual," emotion ran in the former princess's voice as she fought a few stray tears.
Faren rubbed his foot before coming over to the group; "Well, my toe might be broken." He looks up to the group; "Ah, more weirdos to join our merry band of misfits!" He gestured to himself; "Faren Brosca, the most handsome and dashing duster you ladies will never forget."
"...He's said all that while shamelessly staring at our breasts," Brianna dryly commented beside Leliana.
"Faren," Oryrn remarked slowly; "You realize four of those ladies are my family, right?" The dwarf followed the elf's finger while addressing each one.
"What? I can't admire the view"
"Not if you want to know what my spears feel like."
"Oh don't play the overprotective son. I'm not doing any harm am I?" He gave what he clearly considered to be a charming smile at the ladies.
"Avert your eyes if you intend to keep them, little man" Serana replied unimpressed.
He held up his hands, "Alright, alright. I can get the hint" His fellow dwarf rolled her eyes at his usual antics.
Gin crossed his arms, giving the roguish dwarf a look over. He recognized his type, loose but alert, dressed for stealth work, those fingers surely were more nimble than they looked, good for grabbing things that didn't belong to him. Even his words and attitude, Gin had seen it before, a facade to hide his motives and usual activities. In short, just like the city elf himself. "I like him"
"I do not" Morrigan dispassionately said.
"Then I like him even more"
Theron only rubbed his eyes muttering in elven with a low grunt from Sten. Shaking his head Teagan spoke up; "At any rate, I am glad you all are here. Follow me." With a gesture the group walked beside the Bann as they traversed through the village; "Has Oryrn explain the situation?"
"He did through the ring, but how severe is it?" Alistair questioned as old memories came to him as he peered out at the village. He hated seeing the place that had been his home in this state
"Grim, ever since my brother's return everything went downhill. Especially once he was poisoned by that would-be assassin" Exhaustion and anger shone in the man's voice and posture.
Brianna glanced to her friend; "It's like everything decided to go to hell while the damn Blight started."
"You would be surprised how often that happens," Miara quipped in a cryptic manner.
Teagan rubbed his hands together as they made their way to the Chantry; "Our forces are slowly dwindling by each attack."
"At least you're taking measures to ensure your loses don't increase the enemies' numbers" Sarya commented, hands clasped behind her back. "Undead don't kill, they recruit"
"Yes, Oryrn was very clear about burning the bodies, particularly through the use of his magic in case they risk rising again" The Bann said, briefly rubbing the bridge of his nose. "And the Templars agreed, which is good I have advice on this... arcane matter. This is extremely out of my depth"
The passed through the Chantry gates, it didn't look much different from other Chantries they had visited in terms of structure, but the differences stopped there. The great hall was filled with sleeping bags, make-shift beds, people being tended by the sisters and elderly women.
"You are taking refugees here" Marcus commented as she saw a man covered in bandages being given water by a Chantry sister, he was missing an arm.
"Wounded soldiers, people whose homes were wrecked in the attacks or no longer feel safe in them" As proven by the young woman who sat by a corner, a young boy at her side keeping himself entertained with a small wooden horse, though she smiled at him there was no mistaking the despair in her eyes.
At the end of the Chantry was a woman in her winter years, her robes marking her as the Revered Mother. She rose her hands to the statue of Andraste in prayer, her eyes closed, shutting out the world around her for a while in this moment of worship.
"Here" Turning on the corner they arrived at what could be the Revered Mother's office, clearly now the bann's temporary war room. "I'm sure you all came here to seek support from my brother, but before we can even think of reaching him there's plenty to be done right now about the undead"
"Goes without saying," Gin leaned against the wall beside Faren who sat on the floor; "But doubt it will be easy."
Teagan shook his head; "Indeed it won't be. Though we have kept most of our fallen from joining the undead; the force behind it seems to be improving their tactics. Learning from each battle we have face from them. They focused their strongest against Oryrn and his company as they have been dealing the most damage against them. Especially Ser Oryrn."
"So far we have dealt with several revenants in the last two nights," Sereda huffed moving her shoulders; "those were not easy fights."
Neria shifted beside Brianna; "Revenants are extremely dangerous undead possessed by demons!"
"Powerful demons at that," Bri took over; "Whatever is causing this commands extremely strong magics"
"I'll defer to your judgement Lady Wardens," Teagan gave a respectful nod to the former Circle mages. "I have a strong feeling the next wave will be the hardest one yet. And who knows what will come for us. We will need more fighters."
"Have any of these people ever picked up a weapon before?" Sofie question beside Sten. "Never mind the fact which one of them are even willing to fight?"
"Believe me I am not a fan of this anymore than you are," Teagan remarked; "But at the rate this has been going we shall be overwhelmed."
"How are there so many undead?" Miara questioned, crossing her arms. "Has this area seen a lot of fighting in the past?"
"In the Hinterlands? Definitely" Marcus replied with a worried expression. "Taking Redcliffe has always been vital to directly advance into central Ferelden. There have been many battles in the Hinterlands through the centuries"
"Which means lots of bodies that have never been buried, lost in the wilderness" The vampire among them pointed out, "That's not counting the ones whose graves aren't too deep, the undead will just crawl out of them eventually"
"While there have been reports of a few struggling undead attacking the areas around the Hinterlands, Redcliffe is clearly their goal" The bann said. "As for what that goal is, I'm afraid I cannot say"
"Midday will soon be upon us" The dalish of their party added, "We cannot dally, we have less than half a day to prepare for the next attack"
To that, Alistair agreed. "We can aid in any way we can, Teagan. What's the most urgent matter?"
The bann gave them a grateful yet tired smile. "Arming a militia will be the most pressing priority. A lot of the available equipment is not in the best conditions, but sadly the town smith, Owen, has barricaded himself in his shop and refused to help"
Miara and Serana glanced to one another before looking back to the man; "Why?" The Dunmer questioned.
"His daughter Valena worked as Isolde's maid in Redcliffe Castle. Since the attacks the castle gates have been shut and cannot enter," Teagan spoke grimly; "Whatever evil plagues us has likely taken Owen's daughter. So he has shut himself off from the world in grief."
Out of the group, the two parents among them understood; "We can deal with Owen. He might listen to fellow parents." Serana commented with a gaze of sympathy.
"We could set up some magical traps in key areas where the dead are rising," Brianna addressed as she walked up beside Marcus; "help weather the forces against us." She turned to Neria and Sarya who liked the idea.
Morrigan thought for a moment; "Better than staying here I suppose." Honestly, she thought helping these people was a waste of time, but these fools of bleeding heart had long since made clears her words would just fall on deaf ears.
"That would be most helpful," Teagan nodded, approving of the mages' plans.
"I'll help them once Owen is convinced," Serana gestured; "There is the people you want to recruit, and they will need training."
Marcus leaned his hands on the desk; "Sereda, Alistair, and I can help with that."
"You're going to need more people to instruct them" Sofie proposed, "I can help you show them their way around the blade, but some ranged support will be preferable"
"I agree" Oryrn nodded, "I would prefer the civilians not to be harmed. Between us and the remaining knights we can hold the line. Have the militia train archers for most part. Keep them away from the conflict"
"True" The young noble admitted, "It's better to teach most of the militia how to shoot a bow half-decently than to throw them on the front lines all at once. And like you said, we can handle it"
"Just wait till you see Shale in action" Faren said excitedly, "He just ripped those things heads off with his fists!"
"Oh right, you guys have a golem" Sarya realized, "Where is it by the way? I would very much like to study it"
"Shale is currently near the mill, so nobody bothers him" Sereda informed, "But I wouldn't get my hopes up, he has a... thing with people poking him. Wouldn't recommend it"
Getting the matter back on tract, Marcus continued, "Alright, we'll divide the training for the recruits to make 3/4 of their numbers into archers. Leliana, Theron, I'll need you help here"
"Of course" The bard said with a bright smile, happy to be of assistance to these people in their time of need.
Theron was much more reserved with his response, looking a bit hesitant before nodding. "As you wish"
"Good, I'll know they'll be in good hands" Teagan said before going over the next issue. "There are three main routes to and out of the village; we will need to secure the lines there to keep the undead from overrunning us"
"Nobody can set up the terrain better than mages" Brianna said with pride in her voice, "Let us do our work, and I promise you those things won't even reach the village"
"Very well. Oh, another thing; Speak with Murdock; he is the village mayor and head of the militia. He will know who could be of most use to assist in the fighting." Teagan stated rubbing his temple. "I think that is all we can do at this point."
Sten crossed his arms; "Then we have work to do and little time to waste."
Sofie gave the towering man a surprised look; "Nice to see you you're opening up more!" she smiled while the Qunari grunted back.
XxX ~ xx ~ XxX
Leaving the Chantry and with some guiding from Templars, Miara and Serana made their way towards a large but simple building near the port. A wooden sign of an anvil and hammer hung above the door. "So this is Owen's shop," Serana adjusted her hood.
Her dunmeri lover said nothing as she knocked on the door. "Who is it?!" A man's voice rang out from the building. His words slurred from likely too much drinking, but they were also full of anger and grief. "I told Murdock and Teagan to get stuffed! Leave me to my grief whoever you are!"
"My name is Miara; I'm with my lover Serana. We're Oryrn's mothers." The Dunmer explained with calmed words.
"And?" Owen bellowed; "Why should I care about what some a weird grey elf has to say?"
Serana deadpanned; "He is in a charming mood."
"I'd figure as fellow parents, and I a fellow being a blacksmith, you would at least hear us out."
"Why the hell would I?!" The man yelled once more. "I've seen your son, he's a walking killing machine, and you have nothing to fear for him! But my girl, Valena..." His voice turned mournful, "She's just a girl, trapped in the castle with Maker knows what. I can't even get to her, I don't even know if my little girl is alive or dead..." He sniffed, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes.
Miara took a long breath, measuring how to talk to the man. Across her journeys she had found herself in many situations where people like this crossed her path. Either too stubborn or too emotional to even entertain the idea of dialogue, and was forced to persuade them to cooperate. Sometimes her words were enough, other times some proof or action was required.
It's not like she was unsympathetic to the man, powerful as her children were she would still worry about them if she had reason to believe the threat they faced.
They too had nearly been taken from them once, and she had set the skies ablaze to get them back.
But the people here were at risk, his daughter's fate wasn't the only one on the line. How many daughters, sons, siblings and parents had fallen to the undead so far, while he choose to shut the world away to wallow in his own grief?
Choosing her words carefully, after measuring her options, Miara spoke, "What if I promised to bring your daughter back?"
They were met with silence before they heard movement and items shuffling away from the door. It soon opened as both ladies winced from the intense smell of alcohol coming from a middle-aged man in simple clothes with short grey hair and full beard. Owen's eyes were bloodshot and red from all the crying and probably lack of sleep. Owen walked right up to the Dunmer with a scowl; "Empty words." The elf groaned and reeled from the man's breathe. "Murdock and Teagan made empty promises, who says you won't be the same. I don't give a toss about this village; all I want is my baby girl back in my arms!" His angered words degenerated into a grief stricken wail.
Miara hands went up to the man's shoulders to keep him straight, her ruby orbs staring into his tearful eyes; "I swear upon our son and daughters' lives we will get Valena back to you."
"And we won't stop till she is safe," Serana stated with the old smith now peering at her.
Switching between both ladies, their eyes shone with something neither the Bann nor Mayor had. Conviction, their words held a steely honesty. "Maybe I'm too drunk, but you two… I actually believe will keep your promise." Owen huffed as he leaned against his door.
"Your hammer is needed Owen. Relight your forge and pour your rage into your craft. Let the undead feel it and tremble," Miara spoke with fire in her voice. "Show the bastard who did this, a parent's rage is the most terrifying thing to ever exist."
"Yes... yes" He rasped. "I... thank you. I promise I'll help" He wobbled once Miara let go of him. "Once I'm sober"
"No time" Serana quickly intervened, pulling a potion from one of her satchels. "Here, drink this; it'll clean you right up in an instant"
The smith looked uncertainly at the vial for a moment. "Well, I already drank everything, what's one more?" He grabbed the potion; popping the cork and downing it all in one go. He stood there for a moment not looking like he felt any different, when suddenly his eyes grew impossibly wide, he let go of the vial and rushed back into his house, kneeling before a bucket and dry heaving. The sounds of his stomach emptying filling his mouth. "Oh Maker, what did you give me?!"
"A potion to purge all the alcohol out of your body... it's gotta come out one way"
The man just heaved again.
"He'll be sober in a minute" The vampire said before grabbing Miara by the arm, pulling her away so she could whisper. "He might be able to fix weapons and armor but it won't be enough. These people will need silver"
"I know. And I could do something about it but filling an order this size in a day?" The dunmer muttered to herself. "Hmm, I'll have to get some weapons from my storage through Butler"
"Go look for an empty place" Serana nodded, "I'll keep this guy company, make sure he doesn't pass out from puking his guts out"
"Right" Miara paused for a moment, "You know you'll have to stay as far away from me during the battle, right?"
"Ugh, I know, I know" The vampire said with loathing, suppressing a shiver. "Blood, I fucking hate that sword..."
XxX ~ xx ~ XxX
"Keep those shields up," Sereda's voice boomed which made a few of the new recruits flinch.
Marcus stood beside her; "Don't hold those weapons like farm tools, bodies and wheat are very different things."
Around the four warriors stood at least a dozen or more men and women who volunteered to fight for their village. Some at the cusp of adulthood, others near their winter years. Human, dwarf, and even some elves bravely stood once Teagan and Murdock spoke around the village and Hinterlands.
Yet despite their courage, it showed that these people were no warriors. And all throughout their teaching they could see every flaw that could prove their death in the coming battle tonight.
A young man waved stroke a practice dummy, but his training sword fell from his grip. He swore to himself, biting back a curse. And scrambled to pick it up.
"Not so rigid movements" Alistair said, walking closer to the lad. "Don't keep your arm straight, bend your arms as you swing, put your weight behind it and then straighten them out as you go" The Warden showed him by taking out his own sword and showing him the proper moves. "You see?"
The recruits watched him as he instructed the young man, talking among themselves and keeping mental notes.
The lad did so, slowly at first, hitting the dummy.
"Good. Again" The senior Warden said, crossing his arms. And the lad did so. "Again"
Over and over he perfected the technique, the movement of his arms as he swung the blade coming together, becoming more efficient.
"Good" Alistair nodded satisfied, "What's your name?"
"P-Peter, Ser Warden" The lad replied. Maker he barely looked old enough to shave.
"Peter" The Warden repeated his name, sizing him up. He was very thin, definitely didn't have the build of a fighter. "Are you sure you want to be out here, fighting?"
"I-I'm the only able bodied man of my family who can help" He stammered out. "My pa's leg is bad. And my brothers are just kids"
The former Templar gave a look of understanding; "You want to protect your loved ones."
"A-and Redcliffe, Ser Warden. This has been our home since my grand pappy was here."
"This was my home too when I was a boy. So I understand." Alistair patted the boy's shoulder as his eyes gaze to the rest of the volunteers. "We are all sons and daughters of Redcliffe, it doesn't matter if your human, elf, or dwarf. This is our land, our families made their roots in this soil. And we be damned if we let some undead take it from us."
An elf girl holding a spear shook; "I'm still scared."
Alistair came over to her; "Your name lass?"
That seem to surprise the girl; "Um... Nolassa. I-I lost my parents when the first attack happened." She clutched the spear close; "they told me to hide, and I did... Like a coward... All I could do was cry hearing their screams." Tears rimmed her eyes as he body shook.
The Warden's lips pursed, slowly nodding to himself. "You're not a coward for following your parent's wishes; they only wanted to protect you"
The young lass said nothing, merely looked at the ground. Trying to hold in the tears.
Alistair sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Put the spear back, you're not joining the militia"
Her eyes snapped back at him, wide and shocked. "W-What?"
"You're in no condition to fight" The former Templar said, keeping his voice even despite the pity he felt for the girl. "You're too emotional; it'll make you prone mistakes"
"B-But I can fight!" The lass exclaimed, tears of desperation running down her cheeks. "Please, I need to do something! I-I can't let their deaths be in vain!"
"If you let yourself die, then it they will" Alistair replied in a firm tone. "You want to do right by them? Go to the Chantry; help the sisters tend to the wounded, help your people in need"
Those words only seem to scar the girl's already wounded heart before throwing down the spear and running away. Alistair sighed running a hand through his hair.
"You made the right call," Oryrn nodded to the man while helping someone hold their weapon. "She would have died if she stayed out here to fight." His words were not cold, but matter of factly.
Alistair glanced to the Dunmer while taking the spear and putting it back on the rack. "She might hate me for it, but she will stay alive. Maybe make a life for herself."
An elf who practiced swings with a sword shook his head; "Doubt that. Her family was farm servants, and the Shem who had them work barely paid them. Not sorry he's dead."
"Charming," Sereda grunted crossing her arms; "But let's keep on task."
"Theron, Leliana" The Cousland called to the archers of their party who were close by, "Show the recruits how to shoot" He pointed to a gathering of people, most of the potential militia would be trained as archers, so their numbers were greater than those of the swordsmen or the spear men.
"Of course" The bard said in that sweetly tone that made the dalish's teeth ache. Reluctantly, he followed her to the firing range. "I must say I'm very interested in seeing you shoot your bow without distractions, Theron" Oh wonderful, small talk... "The dalish techniques are a work of art"
"They are passed down and refined from many centuries" He curtly remarked.
"Though the way you hold a few arrows in your bow hand to fire them in quick succession, that's an Orlesian technique, where did you learn it?"
At that, Theron directed a side glare at the redhead. "That's not an 'Orlesian' technique" The elf rasped irritably. "It's elven"
"What?" Genuine surprise etched on the redhead's face.
"The way you hold your bow, your stance and posture. Even how you wield your daggers. A lot of those techniques are elven in origins." His tone cold and sharp. "Your empires were very thorough in taking what they wanted from us."
Leliana faintly recoiled and winced from the aggression from their Dalish companion; "I-I didn't know. I'm so sorry."
"...That apology is not yours to give," Theron spoke tersely as he made his way to the range.
As they stood before the small crowd of would be archers, the bard and the dalish noticed that a few of them stood to the side with their own bows and arrows. Experienced hunters apparently. Good, so among the peasants there were people with experience.
Instructions began at earnest, with Leliana showing them the basics. "Back straight, chest out." She showed the proper posture. "Bow arm straight, don't bend the elbow. Grip with your palm, not your fingers" She slowly knocked an arrow. "Bend your shooting arm's elbow to be pointing up" She lined up her shot at the bullseye. "Deep breath, aim... and release"
Her projectile soared through, hitting the mark's center, much to the awe of the inexperienced villagers. The hunters among the group nodded among themselves, recognizing that was a fine technique she used.
"Grab a bow and practice, we'll be here to instruct you if you have issues" The redhead waved at the hunters, "Your help would be appreciated" The peasants agreed, going to the young recruits they noticed were having more issues.
"Not bad, for a shem" Theron muttered to the bard. "Now let's just hope they don't accidentally shoot one of their own"
Leliana gave him an admonishing look. "These people could benefit from someone having faith in them"
Theron snorted.
The bard shook her head, before spotting a woman who was having trouble with her bow, fumbling with an arrow that fell from her grip the moment she tried to notch it. The other experienced hunters were busy with other recruits to help her.
Leliana pointed at the woman to Theron, "Try helping her"
The dalish gave her an irritated look before rolling his dark brown eyes. He walked up to the woman, who yelped upon the sight of the irritated dark skinned elf, finding his stature, musculature and facial tattoos to be an intimidating sight.
"What's wrong?" He said, trying to keep his voice as civil as possible.
"I-I uh try to do as the lady instructed, b-but my fingers keep slipping and-" She seemed to shrink under his unimpressed gaze.
Without warning, the elf grabbed her hands, looking at them, taking in the details; one was more calloused than the other. He gave her an annoyed look, "You tried to do it 'exactly' like her?"
"Y-Yeah"
"That's the problem" He let go of her hands, "You're left handed"
"Oh..."
Shaking his head, he left the woman to continue practice as he searched another villager that might need instruction. Theron's ears twitched as he heard an arrow flowing through the air and hit its target. His eyes only saw it for a moment before striking. Close to the central circle but not quite. Walking past the woman his brow rose at the sight of a child knocking another arrow. For a moment he almost mistook her for a very small human child before fully looking at her.
"Impressive for a dwarf," He commented as he approached. "But aren't you a bit too young to fight?"
"A dwarf is never too young to fight!" the girl proclaimed loud enough to catch Sereda's attention.
"Lace Harding!" The dwarven girl winced from the former princess's raised voice; "You should be with your parents, young lady."
However the little dwarf was defiant; "But I want to help!"
"Not with that posture," Theron reproached; "Your aim is off because how you're holding the bow."
Harding glared up at the Dalish warrior; "Bet I can out-shoot you."
"Ohhhhh~" Leliana let out a faux-scandalized sound, hiding the smile on her face behind dainty fingers.
"...I'm not getting into a competition with a child" The dalish declare, going back to see what other hapless Shems needed his help
"Oh don't listen to him" The bard bent to talk to the dwarven child. "He's just a big meanie"
"With good ears!" Said 'meanie' shouted back.
His indignation went ignored. Sereda gave young Harding an amused look as she came over, "Look kiddo, I've no doubt you're a crack shot with that bow. But the battlefield is grown up business. Do your parents even know you're here?"
The child looked down, shuffling her feet. "No..."
"I thought so," A nod came from the Dwarven woman as she picked up Harding into her arms. She turned to Marcus; "I'm going to take her back to her parents."
Her longtime human friend gave a wave while he was assisting an elven man with his shield. A lone sigh came from Oryrn; "We have a long day ahead."
"That we do," Alistair gave a nod as he gazed at every volunteers eyes. Though some wore a brave facade he could see the terror in each person's gaze. "There is no shame in being afraid," the former Templar's words caught the people by surprise; "Being afraid isn't a weakness, it keeps you alert and focused. So long as you don't let it consume you. I'm just as scared as you are."
Doubt shone in the eyes of a few; "You faced down Darkspawn. What do you have to be afraid of?" A woman questioned.
"Heh, just because I face down Blighters does not make fighting any less terrifying." The young man admits with a weak chuckle. And though he himself couldn't see it, Marcus saw how Alistair had a way with people.
XxX ~ xx ~ XxX
"Don't get me wrong, I am very grateful for your collaboration milady Miara. But I cannot help but wonder just where you got all those silver weapons"
"Some things are best left for the imagination, milord bann"
"If you say so" The redheaded bann said slowly.
Truthfully, the arrival of the Wardens and their allies had been the work of the Maker hearing their prayers. Marcus, Alistair, Oryrn and the others were transforming the militia into an efficient support force that would be able to assist the mainline of soldiers and remaining lines.
Their mages were already transforming the roads to Redcliffe into killing fields, raising the earth to narrow the paths, converting the terrain into hard to navigate mud, with further plans to set up magical traps capable of exploding with elemental power.
Owen had been convinced to repair as much equipment as he could, with the assistance of Lady Miara the work had been done extremely fast; her skills as a smith were a sight to behold. And that was not taking into account the miracle she pulled of delivering at least nearly three dozen silver blades for the soldiers and some militiamen to wield...
He owed a lot to these people, so when they wished to take him outside the village to discuss further preparations for the attack, all he had to do was receive a nod from Marcus to assure him it was the correct course of action, that he could trust them.
Teagan just wished to know what was so important that it had to be discussed outside of the village they were defending in the first place.
The Bann shook off the concern for the moment; "Can I ask how you convinced Dwyn to fight, never mind Lloyd?"
"We're very persuasive," Miara chimed with a grin; "Plus it helps having a Qunari." As crass as that dwarven blowhard was, he and his men changed their tune quickly fast with a growl from Sten.
In Lloyd's case, a good charm spell from Serana did the trick while leaving the Tavern to a very happy Bella who did not overprice the food and drinks. The vampire's look grew stern; "If that Berwick survives I expect you have some words for him?"
"You are indeed correct Lady Serana, that bastard worked with the toad that poisoned my brother. I fully intend to learn everything he knows."
It came to a bit of luck and some concern from Bella of a strange elf who had been keeping to himself in the tavern. Who had appeared around the same time Arl Eamon was poisoned. But due to the undead attacks the now revealed spy for Loghain could not leave on account to the chaos. The elf was quick to give himself up once Miara, Serana, and Sten pressured him. And he was more than courteous to help the militia once getting daylights scared out of him by the trio.
But now at present a confused Teagan stood with Oryrn's mothers in an open area of one of the Hinterlands' forests. "So why are we here?"
"You and my son have stated the undead have roamed through the Hinterlands as well the village yes, I know someone who can assist us dealing with those outside the village," Miara explained.
"Someone? As in singular?" The bann said in confusion, "I'm sorry my ladies, but the undead amassing at the Hinterlands are very numerous. Standing against the horde alone is suicide; a single person will be trampled by under their feet"
"Good thing he'll be flying then"
Before Teagan could ponder the meaning of her words, he heard it; the beating of wings. A fierce sound of air being blown away by something massive. In his life, he had heard that sound once, and it had been from a blessed distance. Cold dread shivered down his spine, realizing what was coming. They were exposed, he lacked his weapon, and yet the two women did not act at all afraid.
It suddenly appeared above the tree line, scales as red as rubies, eyes an azure jewels. It lack forelegs, but more than made up for it with the massive wing span at the sides. It hovered over the clearing for a moment before landing with enough force to make the ground tremble, sending a wave of dirt and dust everywhere.
Teagan fell to back, scrambling away at the sight of the beast. "D-Dragon!"
"Peace, Teagan" Miara said, looking amused of all things. And to his horror she approached the great beast, he was about to shout for her to run away, least the dragon bit her in half, but his the fear in his shock was soon replaced with confusion as she softly placed a hand upon the creature's snout. "This is the friend we told you about"
"...What" Were the only words the bann could muster.
Serana chuckled, helping him get to his feet. "His name is Odahviing; he's part of the family. Real sweet guy once you get to know him"
The dragon snorted, looking particularly annoyed at the tall woman. Teagan could say without a shred of doubt he never thought he'd see a dragon express any kind of sentient emotion.
The dovah's gaze turn to the noble who froze; "So is this the joor who rules these lands?"
"BY ANDRESTE IT TALKS!?" The blood in Teagan's face left him as he grew white as a sheet.
Odahviing only chuckled, bemused at the sight of the human's terror. "Yes," Miara droned; "'He' can talk. And no, zeymah, this is the brother of the Arl of Redcliffe. Bann Teagan," The ruby dragon grunted at the explanation.
No words came from the noble despite how his mouth moved for at least a minute. "H-how...?"
"Too long of a story and we have a battle to save this place very soon," Serana quipped with a calming grin. "Can you keep quiet about our friend here? We can explain to the people once the dust has settled. But we can assure you he will not eat anyone."
"The rams and those large furry horned sivass (beasts) make a good snack compare to these tiny joor," Odahviing remarked back.
"Those large furry horned beasts are called druffalo."
"Hmm..."
"We felt it was best coming forward with this" The dunmer said to the still dumbfounded bann. "Odahviing can thin their numbers before they reach the village. With his help, and all the precautions we've taken, I'm extremely sure of our chances. To the point I reckon the casualties will either be in the lowest number possible or none at all"
The noble gave her an uncertain gaze before looking at the dragon who looked at him like he was barely worth his time. "Would you... would you truly help us, um... sire?"
"Hmph" Smoke blew through his nostrils. "If my sister asks of me... yes, I will. Undead insult my senses" Serana gave him a side glare; the dragon had the audacity to look at her with a smarmy glint in his sapphire eye.
Teagan sighed heavily in relief, "Thank you, I... I don't know how to repay you"
"But I do" The dragon said, stretching his neck and moving closer to the bann, who backed away. "You shall honor me with tribute"
"Odah..." Miara said in a warning tone.
"W-What could you possibly want from us?"
"Hmm... fives kegs of your finest mead. I will accept nothing less"
The bann blinked a few times before turning owlishly to the dunmer. "Is this a joke?"
"Oh far from one, I assure you" The grey elf replied with amusement. "Dragons love their spirits, but they have very high standards. I suggest you give him your best stock, otherwise he'll eat your cattle as compensation"
"I'm making a deal with a talking dragon…" Teagan said in a long suffering tone, feeling his sanity slip away. "I must have gone mad"
"My dear bann, we all are a bit mad"
XxX ~ xx ~ XxX ~ xx ~ XxX ~ xx ~ XxX
The battle of Redcliffe approaches