My stomach drops as I step foot into the wilds. The smell of rotting flesh fills my nose darkspawn. The deeper we enter the forest the more i feel my stomach drop.

The Korcari Wilds pressed in around us, a suffocating blanket of damp earth, decaying leaves, and something else… something acrid and metallic. It was the same scent that had assaulted my senses when I first arrived in this world, only now it was stronger, more pervasive. The rotting flesh of the darkspawn. A wave of nausea washed over me. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to suppress the rising bile. This place felt… wrong. Ancient and malevolent.

Ela, surprisingly, seemed less affected by the oppressive atmosphere. She moved with a quiet confidence, her eyes scanning the surrounding trees and undergrowth. She took the lead, her elven senses seemingly more attuned to the wilderness than the rest of us. I followed close behind, trying to ignore the ever-present stench and the unsettling feeling that we were being watched.

Daveth and Jory, however, were not handling the wilds as well. They lagged behind, their faces pale and their eyes wide with fear. After a few minutes of tense silence, Daveth finally spoke, his voice trembling slightly.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his gaze darting nervously from tree to tree. "Going after darkspawn… it's a death wish."

Jory nodded in agreement, his face grim. "My father told me stories about the Blight," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "He said the darkspawn are… unstoppable."

I stopped walking, turning to face them. Allistair also stopped, looking at the two recruits with a patient expression. I took a deep breath, trying to project an air of confidence that I didn't entirely feel.

"Look," I said, my voice firm, "I know this isn't exactly a picnic. And yeah, darkspawn are dangerous. But we're not going in blind. We have a purpose. We need those vials of blood." I gestured between Allistair and myself. "And you're with us. We're Grey Wardens and we know what we're doing. If you listen to us, you'll be fine."

I paused, looking at each of them in turn. "We're all in this together. Just stick close, follow instructions, and we'll get through this." I glanced back at Ela, who was still scanning the surroundings, seemingly unfazed by the others' fear. "Besides, we have Ela leading the way. She seems to know what she's doing."

Allistair nodded in agreement. "Gwenet's right," he said, giving Daveth and Jory a reassuring smile. "We'll be careful. We're not going to take any unnecessary risks."

As we pushed deeper into the wilds, I noticed a small yellow flower in the swamp. growing near a gnarled, moss-covered tree.

It was a stark contrast to the muted greens and browns of the surrounding forest, a splash of unexpected color in this oppressive landscape. I recognized it instantly—the same flower the Mabari handler had described, the one used to soothe the dog. I carefully plucked one of the blooms, tucking it into a small pocket in my armor. It would be good to have on hand for the injured Mabari back at camp.

We continued our trek, the silence broken only by the crunch of leaves under our feet and the distant cawing of crows. Suddenly, Ela stopped, her hand raised in a signal for us to halt. She tilted her head, listening intently.

"Darkspawn," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Ahead. About… twenty paces."

The air grew heavy with anticipation. I drew my sword, the familiar weight of it grounding me. Allistair did the same, his expression serious. Daveth and Jory looked terrified, their hands trembling as they gripped their weapons.

A low growl echoed through the trees, followed by the sound of snapping branches. Two darkspawn burst from the undergrowth, their grotesque forms and glowing red eyes sending a shiver down my spine. One carried a crudely fashioned axe, the other a jagged piece of bone. They snarled, their fanged mouths dripping with saliva, and charged towards us.

"Form up!" Allistair shouted, stepping forward to meet the first darkspawn. I moved to his side, my sword raised, ready to strike. Daveth and Jory, though clearly frightened, positioned themselves behind us, their weapons shaking in their hands.

The battle was short and brutal. Allistair, with his practiced swordplay, made quick work of the first darkspawn, deflecting its clumsy attacks and landing a decisive blow to its head. I focused on the second darkspawn, the one with the bone. It lunged at me, its snarls echoing through the trees. I sidestepped its attack, using the momentum to spin and strike, my sword slicing through its arm. The darkspawn shrieked in pain, dropping its weapon. I didn't hesitate, driving my sword through its chest, ending its miserable existence.

The silence that followed was deafening. I stood there, my breath coming in ragged gasps, the metallic scent of darkspawn blood filling my nostrils. The adrenaline was still coursing through my veins, but beneath it, I felt a familiar unease.

Allistair clapped Daveth and Jory on the shoulders. "Good work, lads," he said, trying to sound encouraging. "See? Not so bad, was it?"

Daveth and Jory just stared at the dead darkspawn, their faces still pale. I could tell they were shaken, but they had held their own. That was what mattered.

As we moved further into the wilds, the forest floor became littered with debris: broken carts, shattered weapons, and… bodies. Human bodies, clad in tattered armor, their faces pale and lifeless. The scene was gruesome, a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked in these woods. The air was thick with the stench of death, a far more potent and sickening smell than the darkspawn blood.

Then, I saw movement. A figure crawling weakly amidst the carnage. He was clad in the dark grey armor of the Grey Wardens, though it was now stained with blood and dirt. He was clearly injured, his movements slow and labored.

"By the Maker…" Allistair breathed, his voice filled with shock.

The injured Warden looked up, his eyes widening as he saw us. "Who… who's there?" he croaked, his voice weak and strained.

Without hesitation, I knelt beside him, quickly assessing his injuries. He had a deep gash on his arm and several other smaller wounds. I pulled out some bandages from my pouch, quickly setting to work on the most serious injury.

"He's not half as dead as I thought he'd be," Allistair commented, his voice a mix of relief and surprise.

I glanced up at him, my brow furrowed. "He's injured," I said sharply. "He needs help." I focused back on the wound, wrapping the bandage tightly around his arm. "We need to get him back to camp."

Daveth and Jory exchanged nervous glances. "But… the mission," Daveth stammered. "Duncan told us…"

"The mission can wait," I said firmly, tying off the bandage. "This man needs our help. He's one of us." I looked at Allistair. "You and the others continue on. Find the blood. I'll get him back to Ostagar."

Allistair hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright," he said. "Be careful, Gwenet." He looked at the injured Warden. "We'll let Duncan know what happened."

I nodded in acknowledgment, then turned my attention back to the injured Warden. He was watching me with a mixture of confusion and gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Don't mention it," I said, helping him to sit up. "Let's get you out of here." The scene around us was a testament to the brutality of the darkspawn. Broken carriages lay overturned, their contents scattered across the blood-soaked ground. The bodies of soldiers and civilians alike were strewn amongst the wreckage, a grim reminder of the Blight's relentless advance. I shuddered, pulling the injured Warden to his feet. He leaned heavily on me, but together, we started the slow, arduous trek back to Ostagar.

The trek back to Ostagar was slow and arduous. The injured Warden, whose name I learned was Ser Perth, leaned heavily on me, his breathing shallow and strained. The journey was a painful reminder of the brutal reality of this world. Each step was a struggle, each breath a reminder of the stench of death that clung to the Korcari Wilds. The image of the carnage we'd stumbled upon – the broken carriages, the lifeless bodies – was burned into my mind.

Finally, we reached the gates of Ostagar. The sight of the bustling camp, usually a source of mild annoyance, was now a welcome relief. I helped Ser Perth to a nearby tent, where the healers quickly took over, their faces grim as they assessed his injuries.

Exhausted and covered in grime, I went in search of Allistair and the others. I found them near the training grounds, their faces etched with a mixture of exhaustion and grief. Duncan stood with them, his expression grave.

"Gwenet," Allistair said, his voice strained as he saw me approach. "You're back. How is he?"

"He'll live," I said, wiping a streak of dirt from my forehead. "The healers are tending to him. What about… the Joining?"

The atmosphere immediately shifted, the air becoming heavy with silence. Allistair looked down at the ground, his expression filled with sorrow. Duncan placed a hand on his shoulder, a gesture of comfort.

"It… it didn't go well," Allistair finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

My heart sank. I knew the Joining was dangerous, but…

"Karvir…" I began, my voice trailing off.

Allistair nodded slowly. "He didn't survive," he confirmed, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He then looked at me, his expression filled with guilt. "Neither did Daveth… or Jory."

A cold wave washed over me. Three lives. Gone. Just like that. Because of a ritual. A ritual that I had also undergone. I thought back to the taste of the darkspawn blood, the burning sensation in my throat, the brief moment of oblivion. I had survived. They hadn't.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. I didn't know what else to say. There were no words that could possibly ease their pain.

Duncan stepped forward, his expression grave but firm. "It is a tragedy," he said, his voice low and resonant. "But it is the reality of the Grey Wardens. We face death constantly. We must be prepared to accept it." He looked at Allistair, then at me. "They died as they would have wanted, fighting for a cause greater than themselves."

I looked at Allistair, his face pale and drawn. He was staring at the ground, lost in his own thoughts. I knew this was going to be hard for him. He had been close to the other recruits, especially Jory. And now… they were gone.

The weight of what it meant to be a Grey Warden pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating. It wasn't just about fighting monsters. It was about loss. It was about sacrifice. It was about carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. And it was a weight I now shared with Allistair and Ela. Two people that i feel a need to stay beside.

"We have to light the Beacan at the tower of Ishal" Ela tells me who looks up from the ground i give a small nodd. My stomach drops as i let out a heavy breath

"Lets do this" I follow her and allistair. Their is arrows and stones flying i run with the others almost falling from the stone under my feet shaking from bulders hitting the stone bridge.

The air at Ostagar was thick with tension. The sounds of battle – the clash of steel, the screams of the dying, the roar of the darkspawn – echoed across the camp. The siege had begun. King Cailan himself had given us our orders: light the beacon atop the Tower of Ishal. It was a desperate gamble, a signal to Loghain's forces to reinforce our dwindling numbers.

I stood with Allistair and Ela at the foot of the tower, the imposing structure looming above us, its stone walls scarred and battered from previous battles. The ground around us was littered with debris and the bodies of fallen soldiers. The smell of blood and smoke hung heavy in the air. blood dripping from my swoard as a darkspawn laid at my feet.

"This is it," Allistair said, his voice grim. He adjusted his grip on his sword, his eyes fixed on the tower entrance.

"Let's get this done," I said taking in a sharp breath. I glanced at Ela, who stood beside me, her expression determined. She had proven herself a capable fighter in the wilds, her elven agility and sharp senses a valuable asset.

The entrance to the tower was a narrow, fortified doorway, now breached and crumbling. We pushed our way through the rubble, entering a dark, claustrophobic stairwell. The air inside was stale and damp, the only light filtering in from the narrow openings in the walls.

"Help!" A loud voice yells making us run on instinct Allistair lets out a yell as he takes off a harlocks head saving a mage who sighs holding a hand on his chest a solider runs over sword dripping with some blood as well.

"Thank the maker" The soligers says "We lost the tower we need to get in their" He tells us.

"Calm down" Ela demands as she nodds at Allistair.

"Us 5 should be able to clear the tower" Allistairs voice is a little lower than normal he's serious.

We began to ascend, the only sound our own footsteps echoing in the confined space. The stairs were steep and uneven, making the climb difficult. As we reached the first landing, we were met with our first resistance. Two Harlocks, their grotesque forms hunched and snarling, blocked our path. with a couple taller darkspawn.

"For Ferelden!" Allistair shouted, charging forward, his sword flashing in the dim light. I moved to his side, engaging the second darkspawn.

It lunged at me, its fanged mouth open in a snarl. I sidestepped its attack, bringing my sword down in a swift arc, the blade connecting with its shoulder. The darkspawn shrieked in pain, stumbling back. Ela, quick as a viper, darted forward, her daggers flashing, delivering a swift blow to the creature's throat. It collapsed to the ground, twitching.

We continued our ascent, encountering more darkspawn at each landing. The fighting was brutal and relentless. Allistair fought with a fierce determination, his sword a whirlwind of steel. Ela moved with a deadly grace, her daggers finding their marks with chilling precision. I fought alongside them, relying on a mix of the traditional techniques Duncan had taught me and my own unorthodox tactics.

As we reached the upper levels of the tower, the fighting became even more intense. The darkspawn were more numerous here, their numbers bolstered by genlocks, larger and more heavily armored than the standard darkspawn. The narrow confines of the tower made maneuvering difficult, but we pressed on, driven by the urgency of our mission.

Finally, we burst onto the top of the tower. The wind whipped around us, carrying the sounds of the battle raging below. The beacon, a large pile of wood and oil, stood ready to be lit. But our path was blocked. Standing between us and the beacon was an Ogre.

It was massive, easily twice the size of a man, its thick, corded muscles rippling beneath its grey skin. It wore no armor, its thick hide seemingly protection enough. Its face was a grotesque mask of rage, its small, beady eyes fixed on us with a malevolent glare. It roared, a sound that shook the very stones of the tower, and charged.

"Maker's breath!" Allistair exclaimed, stumbling back.

The Ogre moved with surprising speed for its size, covering the distance between us in a few quick strides. It swung its massive fist, a blow that could easily crush a man's skull. Allistair barely managed to dodge, the wind from the blow whistling past his ear.

I rolled to the side as the Ogre's other fist came crashing down where I had been standing, the stone cracking under the force of the impact. Ela, using her agility, darted around the Ogre's legs, attempting to distract it. The Ogre swiped at her with its massive hand, forcing her to leap back to avoid being crushed.

This thing was fast. Too fast for something its size. Its blows were devastating, and even a glancing hit would likely break bones. We had to be smart.

Allistair, recovering from his near miss, charged forward again, drawing the Ogre's attention. I used the distraction to circle around to its flank, looking for an opening. The Ogre swung at Allistair again, forcing him to block with his shield. The force of the blow sent Allistair staggering back. This was our chance.

The distraction worked. Allistair, seeing his chance, charged forward, his sword raised high. With a grunt and a yell, he brought his blade down in a powerful arc, the steel slicing through the Ogre's thick neck. The Ogre twitched violently as it collapsed to the stone floor, the impact shaking the entire tower. The massive body landed with a resounding thud, the ground trembling beneath our feet.

The silence that followed was broken only by the wind whistling around the tower and the distant sounds of the battle raging below. I pulled my sword free from the Ogre's eye, wiping the dark, viscous blood on my armor. The stench was even more potent up close, making my stomach churn.

"Maker's breath," Allistair breathed, staring at the fallen Ogre. "That was… close."

Ela, who had been circling the Ogre, ready to strike if needed, lowered her daggers. She nodded in agreement, her expression serious. "It was fortunate you found an opening," she said, glancing at the blood on my sword.

I sheathed my sword, taking a deep breath. The adrenaline was still coursing through my veins, but the relief of surviving the encounter was overwhelming. "We need to light that beacon," I said, gesturing to the pile of wood and oil. "Before more of those things show up."

Allistair nodded, quickly recovering from the fight. He grabbed the torch from the fallen darkspawn we had encountered earlier and approached the beacon. With a few quick motions, he ignited the tinder. The flames caught quickly, spreading rapidly through the pile of wood. Soon, a bright column of fire erupted from the top of the tower, sending a plume of smoke billowing into the sky.

A horde of darkspawn crash into the tower making it tilt i lose my footing allistair grabs my arm but we both side hitting aginst the hard stone i let out a pained cry as he lands against me.

I awoke to the sound of rain. My head throbbed, and my body ached all over. I lay on the muddy ground, the rain soaking through my armor. The smell of smoke and blood was still heavy in the air, but it was mingled with the fresh scent of rain.

I pushed myself up, wincing at the pain in my side seeing allistair passed out i raise my sword ready to protect him as i look around. . The battlefield was a scene of utter devastation. Corpses littered the ground, both human and darkspawn. Broken siege engines and shattered tents lay scattered across the mud. Ostagar had fallen.

I looked around frantically for Ela. There was no sign of Ela. I look over the side of the tower.

Then, I saw him. King Cailan. He was lying on the ground, his armor battered and broken, his eyes staring blankly at the sky. He was dead. My eyes flood with tears as i duncan a few feet from him.

The realization hit me like a physical blow. We had failed. The beacon had been lit, but it was too late. Ostagar had fallen, and the King was dead.

As I took in the scene of devastation, a new figure appeared. It was Loghain, the King's most trusted general, riding a horse. He surveyed the battlefield, his face grim and unreadable. He made no move to help us, no move to engage the remaining darkspawn. He simply turned his horse and rode away, leaving us to our fate.

Then, everything went dark.

It wasn't a slow fade, but an abrupt cut to black. One moment we were fighting for our lives, surrounded by a horde of darkspawn, the next… nothing.

I groan as i slowly open my eyes Ela laid a few feet away on a bed still passed out from what i can see. I sigh relived she alive. Then i see a women black short hair she has a mage state on her back and some revealing robes on.

tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in my side forced me back down. "What… what happened?" I croaked, my voice hoarse. The last thing I remembered was… the tower. The Ogre. The endless tide of darkspawn. Loghain riding away.

Morrigan's expression hardened slightly. "Loghain betrayed the King," she said, her voice flat. "He withdrew his forces, leaving Cailan and the Grey Wardens to face the darkspawn alone."

The words hit me like a physical blow. Loghain… betrayal? It was almost impossible to comprehend. But the scene I had witnessed on the battlefield, Loghain riding away while the King lay dead, confirmed the truth of her words.

"The King…?" I whispered, my voice trembling.

"Dead," Morrigan confirmed, her gaze unwavering. "Slaughtered, along with most of the Grey Wardens."

My breath caught in my throat. The Joining… Karvir, Daveth, Jory… and now the King… all gone.

"But… we're alive," I said, looking at Morrigan, a flicker of confusion in my eyes. "How?"

A strange look flickered across Morrigan's face, a hint of something almost… amusement. "My mother," she said, a slight emphasis on the word. "She… intervened. She rescued you and Allistair from the tower."

"Rescued us?" I repeated, still trying to piece everything together.

"She… has certain… abilities," Morrigan explained, her tone carefully neutral. "Let us just say she is capable of assuming certain… forms."

I stared at her, trying to understand what she was implying. And then it clicked. The stories… the legends… shapeshifters.

"She… she transformed?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Morrigan simply nodded, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. "A rather large bird, I believe. It was… quite a sight."

"And she brought us here?" I asked, looking around the small hut.

"To her home," Morrigan confirmed. "She has been tending to your wounds."

A chilling thought suddenly struck me. "The darkspawn…" I said, my voice filled with dread. "What about the others? The survivors?"

Morrigan's expression turned grim. "The darkspawn are feasting on the dead," she said, her voice low and cold. "And… they are dragging survivors underground. To… whatever fate awaits them there."

The image of those grotesque creatures dragging helpless people into the darkness sent a shiver down my spine. The horror of Ostagar was far from over.

Ela at this point has woken up looking between us taking in all the information.

"Allistair" I call out looking past Morrigan who scoffs

"Here" He calls from outside the hut. I get up feeling a dull ache in my muscles as i make my way out of the hut.

"Glad to see your alive," I say as he lets out an almost fake dry laugh

"So, you are the ones my daughter plucked from the jaws of death," she said, her voice deep and resonant. "I am Flemeth."

The name echoed in my mind, sending a shiver down my spine. It was a name whispered in hushed tones in taverns and around campfires, a name associated with ancient magic and dark legends.

The conversation turned to the future, to what we would do now that Ostagar had fallen and the King was dead. The situation was dire. Loghain's betrayal had left Ferelden vulnerable, and the darkspawn were now free to ravage the land.

"We must invoke the Ancient Treaties," Allistair said, his voice firm looking between me and Ela. "It is our right, as Grey Wardens, to call upon those who have sworn oaths to aid us in times of Blight."

He paused, looking at me and then at Flemeth. "I believe we should seek out Arl Eamon of Redcliffe," he continued. "He is a powerful and honorable man. He would be a valuable ally against both the Blight and Loghain."

Flemeth listened intently, her eyes narrowed. When Allistair finished speaking, she nodded slowly. "A wise choice," she said. "Arl Eamon is indeed a man of influence. But," she added, turning her gaze to me, "you will not travel alone."

She gestured to Morrigan. "My daughter will accompany you."

I looked at Morrigan, then back at Flemeth. "Accompany us?" I asked, surprised.

"Consider it repayment for your lives," Flemeth said, her voice leaving no room for argument. "My daughter's knowledge and… abilities… will be of great use to you in the trials ahead."

"Mother.." She tried to argue but just sighed like it was no use.

I looked at Morrigan again. She met my gaze, her expression neutral. I could see the faint disapproval in Allistair's face. He clearly wasn't thrilled at the prospect of traveling with her.

"Very well," Ela said, deciding to accept Flemeth's offer without further argument. It seemed prudent to accept any help we could get, especially considering our current situation. "We appreciate your… generosity."

Flemeth nodded. "You would be wise to proceed to the village of Lothering," she advised. "It is a crossroads of sorts. You may find news and supplies there."

Allistair shifted uncomfortably. "Lothering… yes, that's… that's a good idea," he stammered, still clearly preoccupied with the events at Ostagar. He looked at me, a hint of desperation in his eyes. "Are you sure about this, Gwenet? Traveling with… her?" He glanced at Morrigan again, his expression a mixture of apprehension and distrust.

Clearly he has something against her is it her bright personality hah Dought it.

I gave Allistair a reassuring nod. "We need all the help we can get," Ela said, keeping her voice gentle. "And Flemeth is right. Morrigan's knowledge could be invaluable."

He sighed, but nodded in reluctant agreement. "I suppose you're right," he muttered. "But… I still don't trust her."

I placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know," I said softly. "But we'll be careful. We'll get through this. Together."