"It's Hawke," Fae confirmed when they saw the Champion of Kirkwall standing with Varric on the battlements. She practically skipped down the stairs, flinging herself into Hawke's arms with a grin. Ellethir was surprised; up until now she had Fae pegged for an aloof, no-touching kind of person. She stood corrected.
"Hawke," Fae beamed up at the Champion.
"Fae," Hawke greeted her back warmly, gently prying the girl off her armour.
Varric chuckled, waving Ellethir over. "Inquisitor, meet Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall."
"I don't use that title much anymore," Hawke protested half-heartedly.
"Hawke, the inquisitor," Varric continued, choosing to ignore that. "I figured you might have some friendly advice about Corypheus. You and I did fight him, after all."
"What? When?" Fae's eyes darted between Varric and Hawke, who nodded with a grimace. A petty voice in the back of Ellethir's head was glad she wasn't the only one missing her companions' shared history, for once.
"It was about a year or two ago. Remember when Varric sent word, and I left the camp for a while?"
"But that was about some problem with the carta, wasn't it?"
"The problem was that the carta was targeting me," Hawke sighed. "They'd made a hide-out in an old Grey Warden prison, where the Wardens, specifically my father, had used blood magic to keep Corypheus imprisoned."
"Corypheus got into those Carta folks' heads, and the Wardens too, messed with their minds," Varric explained. "Something to do with his connection to the darkspawn. Turned them against each other, and sent the rest to hunt down what remained of Malcolm Hawke's blood; Hawke, and Carver."
"For revenge?" Ellethir guessed.
Hawke exchanged another glance with Varric. "Not exactly. My father was blackmailed into using his blood to reinforce Corypheus' bindings. It was blood magic. The only way to stop him then was to break those spells and kill him for good…or so we thought."
"He was definitely dead when we were done with him," Varric grumbled. "I checked. Repeatedly."
"Since then, you've already dropped half a mountain on the bastard," Hawke added, nodding to Ellethir. "And still he survives."
"Is it possible that he's messing with the Grey Wardens' minds again? Is that why they've disappeared?" Fae worried her lip nervously.
"It's possible, but we need to know more first. Have you heard from your cousin, lately?" Hawke asked, and Fae shook her head fretfully. "I hadn't thought much of it, it's not like we communicate on a regular basis, but now…"
Hawke put a hand on Fae's shoulder. "In that case, I've got another friend in the Wardens who may be able to help us. His name is Stroud, and he was investigating something unrelated for me, but the last time we spoke he was worried about corruption in the Warden ranks. Since then, we've heard nothing from the other Wardens."
Varric tutted. "Corypheus would certainly qualify as corruption in the ranks. Did your friend disappear with them?"
"No. He told me he'd be hiding in an old smuggler's cave near Crestwood."
"What was he investigating?" Fae asked.
"The red lyrium we saw in Kirkwall. I'd hoped the Wardens could tell me more about it."
"Corypheus had templars with him at Haven. They looked like they'd been exposed to that red lyrium. I've seen what it can do to people." Ellethir said darkly.
"Hopefully my friend in the wardens will be able to tell us more," Hawke said uncertainly, and Ellethir patted her arm.
"I'll take any lead I can get at the moment."
"Good. I'll do whatever I can to help. Corypheus is my responsibility. I thought I'd killed him before—this time I'll make sure of it."
When Ellethir reported Hawke's presence and subsequent offer to the Inquisition's small council, the news had a number of effects. Cassandra stormed out of the room without a word, Commander Cullen's expression became more strained than usual, and Josephine ducked out of the room and returned shortly with a number of small papers for Leliana. The spymaster explained that even with her scouts' calls for volunteers throughout Ferelden and Orlais, no news had come from Crestwood. In fact, no one had been seen entering or leaving Crestwood village since the Breach appeared, which did not bode well. As such, Leliana insisted on sending Scout Harding and her men ahead of the Inquisitor's party to ensure they wouldn't be walking into a trap; after all, the Venatori could be lying in wait anywhere.
Eventually, Ellethir received word from Harding that Hawke's Warden friend had been sighted, although he'd slipped away before the scouts could talk to him. That was the only good news. Harding also reported that there were many undead in the area, they'd received many pleas for help from the locals, and all in all, it would be easier to explain once she got there.
With these vaguely ominous warnings in mind, Ellethir brought as many companions as she could muster on short notice, who weren't already working on other Inquisition business; namely Fae, Varric, Cassandra, Vivienne, Dorian and Blackwall. Cole also appeared just as they mounted their horses in the valley, wordlessly hauling himself up to sit behind Varric. They travelled relatively quickly at first, but as they got closer to the marshlands of the rain-soaked Crestwood region, the group had to stop more often to assist their mounts whose hooves kept sinking into the mud, catching on stones and causing the usually temperate horses to become hesitant and sulky as they pushed forward.
Ellethir had learned quickly the art of keeping the peace between her companions, who were still prone to bickering when the days of travel grew long; weirdly enough, it reminded her of home. Good practise for when she became Keeper, she told herself— if being Keeper would still be an option one day. Mercifully, Varric and Cassandra had said nary a word to each other the entire trip, which was concerning, but still a welcome relief for their fellow travellers. In their place, the rest made digs at each other.
"My dear," Vivienne had begun. "It occurs to me that you may be quite young, despite the great burden the Maker has seen fit to set upon your shoulders."
Ellethir glanced at the poised mage quizzically. "I'm twenty-six winters. Why do you ask?"
"Simple curiosity, my dear. You elves have such remarkably youthful features, for humans such as myself it can be difficult to tell. Of course, it only goes to show that age is no indicator for wisdom. Take your second-in-command, for instance. One would think that the best advice would come from a mage with a lifetime of experience and arcane knowledge, and yet, the one you have chosen is practically a child."
"You're right, of course, madame," Fae had piped up, urging her horse forward to walk side by side. "There probably was someone, somewhere, more qualified than me. But with all the troubles of late, they're probably dead now," she concluded lightly, allowing her horse to slow back down to its normal gait and preventing Vivienne from getting the last word in.
"Well done," Dorian had said approvingly. "With backhanded quips like those, you'd do well in the Imperium court."
"I'm an elf, Dorian," Fae sang under her breath.
"Yes, well, the general sentiment still applies."
From the moment the party set eyes on the northern gates of the Crestwood region, it became apparent why Harding had postponed her explanation of the town's current circumstances. The local guardsmen were already defending themselves against a number of sickly pale, formless figures with wicked-looking swords, barely recognisable for all the muck hanging off the blades.
"Does Crestwood usually have a problem with spirits possessing dead bodies?" Cassandra asked, wiping wet hair out of her eyes with the back of her sword-arm.
One of the soldiers shook his head vehemently. "No, my lady. They've been coming from the lake, ever since that…thing…" He pointed to the lake in the distance, where directionless green light flickered across the water.
"Oh. Shit," Varric said eloquently. "So, do we find a boat and swim out to it, or…?"
Ellethir pressed her lips into a worried line. "Let's go and speak to Scout Harding first, perhaps her men have been able to find a way."
The forward camp was not far, and Scout Harding emerged from one of the rain-battered tents to beckon the inquisitor over to a spot facing the lake, while everyone else took advantage of the temporary reprieve from the weather.
Ellethir ducked into the tent about ten minutes later, attempting to tuck wet hair back into her hood in vain. "From what Scout Harding said, I think the actual rift is somewhere in the cave network underneath the lake."
Varric rubbed his forehead. "Underneath the lake?"
"The lake only formed about ten years ago, during the Blight. Where the original Crestwood village stood."
"Poor bastards. Contending with darkspawn and blight-sickness, only for a flood to come in and take whatever was left."
Dorian leaned back against a tent pole, arms crossed. "So, getting to the rift?"
Ellethir glanced back in the direction of the lake. "If we can find the mayor, we can try to convince him to help us get access. Somehow."
"And what of Hawke's Warden friend?"
"Apparently, he was last seen heading towards another set of caves in the far south of the region. But one thing at a time."
It was a further walk beyond the gates to the village proper, and soon the group came across another raggedy band of undead, this time in combat with soldiers in matching silver and blue armour, who had come to the aid of an elven villager who at first skittered away from the threat in terror, but then chose to hide behind a tree and watch in awe from a distance.
"Those warriors are Grey Wardens, Inquisitor," Blackwall muttered lowly as the party launched themselves at the undead foes. The undead were far outnumbered this time around, and when it was over the Wardens turned to salute.
"The Grey Wardens thank you for your aid, strangers."
Varric sauntered forward, his hand gently nudging Ellethir forward. "Well gents, you have the honour of thanking Lady Ellethir Lavellan, Herald of Andraste and leader of the Inquisition."
"An honour indeed," one of them said politely, giving a slight bow.
"Brothers," Blackwall greeted. "Might I ask what your business is here, in Crestwood?"
The man eyed Blackwall quizzically. "One of ours, a man named Stroud, is wanted for questioning by Warden-Commander Clarel. We heard he'd passed through here, but the villagers knew nothing. They have troubles enough."
"Do you know Stroud well?" Ellethir asked.
The other Warden shrugged. "I trained under him for a time. He's a good man, I'm sure of that. To that end, I hope he comes with us peacefully."
"I see. Are you planning on staying here to help fight the undead as well?"
The two Wardens exchanged guilty looks. "Our orders forbid it, my lady. Crestwood was only a detour. But if the Inquisition can help, I beg you to do what you can. The villagers have already lost too many; then, and now."
Ellethir nodded. "Farewell, then."
"Farewell, my lady."
"Those Wardens didn't mention a new leader," Ellethir said after making some distance. "I don't think they're part of Corypheus' plot to seize the Grey Warden Order."
"Wardens don't generally share their information with outsiders, given the choice. I doubt they would have told us if they were," Fae pointed out, then threw Blackwall a sideways glance. "No offense, Ser Blackwall."
Blackwall shrugged. "None taken, lass. It's true enough."
The elf who'd been waiting at a safe distance fell in step with Fae as the party passed by.
"Did you see how the Grey Wardens saved me from those corpses? They're amazing, aren't they?" she said excitedly.
"Pretty amazing, yeah," Fae offered her a brief smile. She glanced back at Blackwall, who retained his usual stoic expression.
"They're heroes, just like in the tales! With all that's happening, I want to help people the same way," the woman continued. "In fact, I'm going to see if they're looking for recruits!"
Fae halted in her step, and turned to face her. "Uh, that might not be—actually, if you want to help people, why not join the Inquisition? Helping people is kind of the point of our organisation, after all. What do you say, Inquisitor?"
Ellethir looked a little surprised, but she nodded. "Of course."
"Oh Maker, you're the inquisitor? I'd heard Andraste's Chosen was an elf but I scarcely believed it!" The woman took Ellethir's hand and shook it fervently. "Name's Jana, Your Worship."
Fae noticed that Ellethir had her right hand tucked behind her, under her coat and out of sight, which had apparently become another nervous habit. "Welcome to the Inquisition, Jana. Our forward camp is back at the north gate, but it might be wiser to stay at home until the road is safe to travel again."
"Yes, Your Worship. I've learned that lesson once today already, I won't try the Maker's patience for a second time. Thanks for letting me join up."
As the party continued on their way, Blackwall jogged forward a little to catch up with Fae.
"Why did you do that? Girl was brave- the Wardens could have benefitted from a recruit like her," he grumbled.
"Which is exactly why I steered her away," Fae responded lowly. "You'd know better than I that becoming a Grey Warden comes with a heavy price, sooner or later. We're not in a Blight, and if she joined your ranks, she might never have had a chance to do any good for all her bravery. And besides, if our suspicion about Corypheus' increasing control over the Wardens is true, we might have handed him another victim."
Blackwall's eyes narrowed, but then he huffed and seemed to let the subject drop.