Hmm… chapter 2. Liz is not happy about any of the things, and there’s nothing she can do about it. Oh well, it looks like everyone’s going to die. That was a short story, wasn’t it? Thanks for reading!
…Just kidding, we got lots more to go. : P
I’ll probably be tweaking this several times over the next week. Little thing, just details to make things better, more immersive maybe. Not totally happy with the boss fight, either.
This was an incredibly long chapter, maybe the longest single chapter I’ve ever written, because of my gimmick to have each location be a different chapter, so… hope you’re comfortable before you start reading. : P MAJOR spoilers, obviously. (the location/chapter thing is maybe not such a good idea for pacing, but whatever, it’s a thing I’m trying : P It’ll just mean some days you get multiple supershort chapters! Maybe.)
Previous chapter: Highever, next chapter: Lothering
Ostagar
It had been a week since Elizabeth and Duncan had left Highever, and great stone towers were rising into her view over vast hilly expanses of tall black pines. She could see the smoke of controlled fires, and distantly could hear the voices of men and even dogs.
Her heart was a stone weight in her chest. She did not want to have to tell Fergus that their parents were dead… that his wife and son were dead. That Arl Howe had betrayed them and destroyed them, and he and she were the last ones left.
Duncan was hailed by scouts, who brought them to the entrance to the great fortress of Ostagar. Now she was closer, she could see it was shaped like an enormous gateway, a gateway into Ferelden. Two small castles, one with an immensely tall but slender tower, were placed on hills on either side of a ravine, and a bridge joined the two of them across the ravine.
She was more than a little surprised to see a golden-haired man in heavy golden armour, chatting cheerfully with some other soldiers. The golden-haired man turned to Duncan with an excited, boyish smile.
“Ah, Duncan! You have returned. Only one recruit? What a shame. But she looks strong.”
“She is strong, Your Majesty,” Duncan said. “Even one recruit can help turn the tide.”
“I agree,” King Cailan said. “What is your name, my lady?”
“I am Elizabeth Cousland,” Elizabeth said. “Please, Your Majesty, is my brother here?”
“Cousland?” Cailan frowned, perplexed. “Ah, you must be Bryce’s youngest. I don’t believe we’ve ever actually met. But I thought Fergus Cousland said his sister would never be allowed to join the battle. Has something changed? You look grieved.”
“My family was betrayed and murdered by Arl Rendon Howe,” Elizabeth said, barely keeping her voice steady. “I must tell my brother.”
Cailan looked consternated. “That is dreadful news! I can scarcely believe it! How could he think to get away with such treachery? As soon as we are done here, I shall turn my army north and bring him to justice, you have my word.”
Elizabeth hadn’t dared hope for such a generous response, but she saw, looking into the King’s guileless blue eyes, that this was a ruler who cared greatly for those he knew, who wanted his subjects to be happy if he could help them. Even if he was impulsive about it. “Thank you, your Majesty.”
“As for your brother, he and his men are scouting at this moment. I’m afraid your reunion will have to wait until he returns, which will hopefully be before tomorrow’s battle.”
“Hopefully? Your Majesty?”
“Loghain asked him to ascertain whether the darkspawn we face tomorrow will be reinforced from any other quarters, and if he finds anything interesting, he may be delayed. I should have liked to have him in the main assault, but there are many tasks to be performed and not everyone can do the same ones.”
“I understand, sire.”
“I suggest that you vent your grief against the darkspawn for the time being. Now I must return to my tent. Loghain waits eagerly to bore me with battle plans and strategies. But take heart, good lady! We’ve won three battles against these monsters, and tomorrow should be no different – and it will be the greatest and most glorious yet!”
“Then it as my brother said, that the Blight is nearly over,” Elizabeth cried.
“I’m not even sure it’s a true Blight,” Cailan said, turning towards the main camp and gesturing for them to follow. “Plenty of darkspawn, but alas, no sign of the Archdemon who’s supposed to lead them.”
“Disappointed, your Majesty?” Duncan asked dryly.
“I’d hoped for a war like in the old tales!” Cailan said eagerly. “With a king marching to battle beside the fabled Grey Wardens against a tainted god! But I suppose this will have to do. Well, I must to my meeting. Farewell, Grey Wardens.”
He quickened his pace, leaving them behind as they set out across the massive bridge. Elizabeth was looking around curiously – at the narrow valley far below them, at the tower that loomed over them, at the ancient white stone arches of the Tevinter-built fortress. Huan kept close at her side, looking around at all the soldiers.
“What the king said is true,” Duncan said to her after a pause. “They’ve won several battles against the darkspawn.”
Elizabeth looked up at him. His eyes were dark and calm, gazing over the camp in the ruined fortress at the end of the bridge. “But that is not enough, is it?”
“Despite the victories, the darkspawn horde grows larger with every passing day. By now they certainly outnumber us. I know there is an archdemon behind this, but I cannot ask the king to act solely on my feeling… Yet we must defeat this Blight here and now, before it spills over into the northern lands. If it does, Ferelden is lost.”
“But he seems to respect the Grey Wardens very much. Surely…”
“But he will not wait for reinforcements from the Grey Wardens of Orlais. He believes our legend alone makes him invincible. And our numbers in Ferelden are too few – a couple dozen, at most. Teyrn Loghain’s army must make up the difference…”
“Teyrn Loghain is a great warrior and general,” Elizabeth said. “My father always admired him greatly.”
“Indeed,” Duncan said. “That reputation is an earned one. But we must proceed to the Joining ritual without delay.”
Elizabeth blinked. “Ritual, ser?”
“To fully become a Grey Warden, one must undergo a secret ritual known as the Joining. Every recruit must go through it. I won’t hide that it is dangerous, but it is brief, and the reward is worth the risk. Some preparation is required, and we must begin soon.”
“Very well,” Elizabeth said. “What must I do?”
“I have some preparations of my own to do,” Duncan said. “You may explore the camp for about half an hour. Perhaps you will meet the other recruits. The other Wardens are in the main camp below, except for my protégé Alistair. You may wish to introduce yourself, since he will be helping you with your preparation for the Joining.”
“All right,” Elizabeth said. They had come to a stop in the middle of the bridge, and she looked down again into the valley. She felt exhausted. The march, and talking to the king, and talking with Duncan now about mysterious things she had no control over…
Huan whined and nuzzled her leg.
“Your hound should probably join the other mabari in the camp,” Duncan said. “You will not need his help for your quest.”
“All right,” Elizabeth said again, very quietly.
Duncan looked closely at her and she avoided his eyes. “If you need anything and can’t find Alistair, my tent is the third on the left.”
He left, walking towards the farther camp with long strides.
Elizabeth leaned on the parapet of the bridge, trying to hold her emotions within herself. The wind was cold and biting and it helped her, at least to focus on physical pain rather than emotional pain.
She stood there for a long moment, one hand absently stroking Huan’s furry head. She didn’t really see the vista that stretched before her. It didn’t matter. Her brother was out there somewhere.
She turned and followed in the direction Duncan had taken, up into the camp.
Soon she found the mabari kennels, and asked the houndmaster to take care of her dog for the time being. The houndmaster was delighted to see a new mabari, especially such a big, strong, healthy one, and Elizabeth left feeling that her dog was in good hands.
She wandered awhile, through the camp in the ruined fortress, and no one paid her any heed. She listened to a troop captain lecture his men on darkspawn at a makeshift training ground, and saw where the field hospital was.
She had just located the royal quartermaster when she heard someone calling her. “Young lady!”
She turned and saw a rather old woman in a robe of brown and gold, looking at her with kind eyes. She went over to her, although she didn’t know why.
“Are you all right?” the woman asked with a concerned voice. “You look so lost and sad.”
“…Y-yes,” Elizabeth said. It was not right to place her burdens on a stranger.
“Well, if you’re sure. Ah, I should introduce myself. My name is Wynne, and I’m one of the senior mages summoned by King Cailan.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Elizabeth said automatically. “My name is Elizabeth C-cousland.”
“Ah, you must be Teyrn Cousland’s daughter.”
“I w-was…” And Elizabeth burst into tears.
“There there,” Wynne said, putting a gentle arm around her shoulders and leading her to the shadow of a great black pine growing in the middle of the camp. “I won’t pry, but come have a good cry, dear. It sounds like you need it.”
Somehow Elizabeth found herself telling Wynne the whole story through sobs and hiccoughs. The old enchantress listened carefully, rubbing her back.
“Do you feel better now?” she asked when Elizabeth was done. Elizabeth nodded. “That’s good. I can imagine, travelling with Duncan, you haven’t had any chance to let out your feelings.”
“Th-thank you, Wynne,” Elizabeth said, wiping the rest of her tears away. She had left too quickly to bring any handkerchiefs, but Wynne produced one from the sleeve of her robe. “Thank you for listening. I do f-feel better now.”
“I am glad to be of service, dear. You’ve been traveling hard for a week, bottling all these things inside you, and right now tension is running high in the camp, which can’t help at all. It’s all right to take a break now and then.”
Elizabeth blew her nose again, then refolded the handkerchief and offered it back to Wynne, who refused it. “Oh, no, dear, you might need it again. Keep it.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. “Now I should go find Warden Alistair.”
“Alistair?” Wynne asked and chuckled. “That scamp. He is probably giving someone grief with his antics up in the ruined chapel. Good luck with you, Elizabeth.”
“Thank you, Wynne.”
Her eyes and nose were probably still bright red from weeping, but there was no help for that. Duncan’s half-hour deadline was drawing near and she still hadn’t met any of the other recruits or this Alistair.
She spotted the ruined chapel quickly enough, and headed up the hill towards it.
There were two men, one lounging and darkhaired and armed with a bow and a knife, the other standing at attention with extremely short red hair and armed with a massive two-hander sword, near the entrance. The lounging one caught sight of her and looked her up and down in a way that made her uncomfortable. “Well, you’re not what I thought you’d be.”
She gave him a tired glare. “And what might that be?”
“A woman, but here you are. Glad you finally showed up, I was beginning to think they made up this ritual just to put us on a bit.”
“Daveth!” reprimanded the other man. “Do show some manners. My lady, my name is Jory, and this rapscallion is named Daveth. I suppose Daveth’s incredulity is warranted; we’ve not seen any women in the Grey Wardens so far. Do I guess correctly that you are the third recruit?”
“My name is Elizabeth,” said she, “and I guess I am the third recruit.”
“Don’t you know?” Daveth asked. “Are you daft?”
“No,” she said quietly. “My entire family was murdered a week ago and I still haven’t come to terms with it, let alone becoming a Grey Warden.”
“I’m terribly sorry for your loss,” Jory said. “My family is still in Highever. I was a knight there, before my recruiting, you see, though originally I’m from Redcliffe. If it’s any consolation, we know very little about being Grey Wardens either. Or about the ritual.”
“I was listening to a couple Wardens last night,” Daveth said. “They didn’t know I was there… I think they’re planning to send us into the Wilds.”
“That sounds dangerous,” Jory said. “Just us? Aren’t there darkspawn out there?”
Daveth shrugged. “I grew up near here. It’s a bit spooky, for sure. There’s tales of cannibals, beasts, witches, and now darkspawn. Duncan did say it would be dangerous. But I doubt we’ll have to go far.”
“I will watch your back if you watch mine,” Elizabeth offered, attempting to be more friendly.
Daveth leered. “Oh, I’ll watch your back, sweetheart.”
“Daveth!” scolded Jory. “Anyway, all of those things sound frightening, but it’s probably the darkspawn that are the most frightening. That’s why I’m eager to become a Warden.”
“Facing your fears, eh, Jory?” Daveth jerked a thumb at the former knight. “This guy’s got high ideals. Me, I just want to get away from the stuff Duncan rescued me from.” He chuckled. “He recruited me for picking his pocket.”
“And you, my lady?” asked Jory. “Surely you have found some reason to wish to become a Grey Warden.”
She glanced away. “I don’t know. All I want is revenge on Arl Howe. That has nothing to do with being a Warden.”
“Arl Howe murdered your family?” Jory’s eyes popped in surprise. “That is a turn of events! What is your family name?”
She hesitated a little. “Cousland.”
Jory immediately bowed low. “My lady Elizabeth! We are most honoured to have you among us.” Then what she had said suddenly added up to him, and he straightened up in alarm. “Arl Howe murdered Teyrn Cousland!?”
“It is true,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. “I believe my parents are dead, though Duncan helped me escape before I witnessed their end – or shared in it. But your family is probably safe. I don’t think Howe touched the city.”
“That is a relief to hear,” he said. “I am so terribly sorry, my lady. Teyrn Cousland was good to us.”
“Thank you,” she said. “But from what little Duncan has told me, Grey Wardens give up their past lives. I will not be a Cousland much longer, only one of your companions.”
“Maker’s teeth, a noblewoman for a Warden,” Daveth whistled. “Interesting times. Hope you can fight!”
“She impressed Duncan, and that’s good enough for me,” Jory told him. “Is there any way I might help you?”
“I was told Warden Alistair was in this place,” she said, gesturing to the chapel.
“I do not know,” Jory said regretfully. “I will go and check.”
“No, that’s fine,” she said. “I can do it.”
“Independent lass, isn’t she?” Daveth said as she passed him.
“That’s what they say about Lady Elizabeth,” Jory said. “She’s a wonderful woman. So sad to see her here under such circumstances…”
She left the prattling knight behind and climbed the stairs to the chapel. There were two men there, a plump, red-faced mage, and a tall, armoured man.
“I will not be harrassed by Her Reverence in such a manner!” snarled the mage.
“Yes, because delivering messages is harrassment,” drawled the knight.
“Your glibness does you no credit,” said the mage, turned to walk away.
“And here I thought we were getting along so well! I was going to name one of my children after you. The grumpy one.”
“Argh! I will speak to the woman if I must! Out of my way!” He stormed past Elizabeth, almost knocking into her.
“You know what I love about the Blight?” asked the knight, turning to Elizabeth. “Is how it brings people together.” His light brown eyes sparkled with mischief and irritation.
She did not laugh at his sarcasm, though in better times it would have amused her terribly. “Are you Warden Alistair?”
“Indeed I am. And you are?”
“You are a very strange man.”
“You’re not the first woman to tell me that,” he said, and laughed. “But seriously, have we met before?”
“No,” she said. “We have not. My name is Elizabeth. I’m Duncan’s… newest recruit.”
“Ah! Good to meet you. I’m to go with you when you prepare for your Joining!”
“So I hear,” she said. “I don’t suppose there is anything more you can tell me about it.”
“Honestly, I can’t. So try not to worry about it, it’s just distracting. You know what, there have never been many women in the Grey Wardens. I wonder why not?”
She shrugged, not really interested in the matter.
“Hey, I’m not a drooling lech, please don’t take it that way. I just… think it would be nice to have some around, you know? Right now it’s kind of a boys’ club. Not that I’m complaining about that either, just… I’m going to shut up now.”
She blinked at him.
“So… ah… have you ever actually faced darkspawn?”
“No. …Have you?”
“When I faced my first, I wasn’t prepared for just how monstrous it was. I don’t much like the thought of fighting them on a regular basis. Here, let’s go back to Duncan. He said we should get started after I completed my errand, and now I have completed it.”
“Very well,” Elizabeth said. “I shall follow you.”
They headed back down into the camp, and Daveth and Ser Jory joined them. Duncan was building a fire outside his tent, and straightened as they approached. “Greetings, all of you. We may now get started. …Assuming, of course, you’re finished riling up the mages, Alistair.”
“What can I say?” Alistair said, smirking. “The Revered Mother ambushed me. The way she weilds guilt, she should be in the army.”
“She forced you to sass Mage Caldurin, is that it? Alistair, we cannot afford to antagonize anyone or give them more ammunition against us.”
Alistair bowed his head. “I apologize, Duncan.”
“At any rate, you four will be heading into the Korcari Wilds. Your tasks are twofold. You three are each to fill one of these vials with darkspawn blood.” He handed them three glass vials, of considerable size. Elizabeth felt slightly disgusted by the propect. “Alistair is accompanying you as the most junior member of the order, as is tradition. But I have another task for you, Alistair. There is an old archive in the Wilds, abandoned when we could no longer afford to keep such remote outposts. I want you to find it and gather any documents that may still exist. The important ones will have been magically sealed for protection.”
“Any in particular I should look for?” Alistair asked.
“A copy of the old treaties is perhaps the most important thing. But bring back all that you can. It may be a fool’s errand, and yet it would help us a great deal.”
“Why would something so valuable be left behind?”
“It was assumed in the past that we would return soon… A great many things were assumed that have not held true.”
“I see,” Alistair said. “How am I going to find this archive?”
“It’s a large Tevinter ruin, somewhere to the southwest on a large hill surrounded by marsh.”
“It’s not too far, is it?”
“Not more than an hour of travel, though you will be slowed if you encounter darkspawn.”
“I’ll be able to find it,” Alistair said confidently.
“Maker watch over you. I will see you when you return.”
“Right!” said Alistair, and led them towards the far gate. The guard let them out, not before shaking his head sadly at the crazy Grey Wardens who were braving the Korkari Wilds, and they marched into the forest.
“All right,” Daveth said. “Which way do we go, oh fearless leader?”
“Wait, I’m not the leader,” Alistair said. “That’s up to one of you. I’m just here to supervise, and make sure we don’t run into the darkspawn horde.”
“All right, then, what about you, ser knight?”
“I don’t know about this,” Ser Jory said, looking a bit more apprehensive than was perhaps necessary.
Daveth rolled his eyes and looked at Elizabeth. “Your ladyship?”
She stared back at him with disinterest.
The ex-thief sighed and stomped to the head of the party. “Well, since none of you seem to have a lick of sense between you, I guess I’m in charge. We march that way!”
“What did you mean by making sure we don’t run into the darkspawn horde?” Jory asked Alistair.
“Ah, Grey Wardens have the ability to sense darkspawn. Conversely, they also have the ability to sense large numbers of Grey Wardens… but I’m only one Warden, so we should be fine.”
“See, we’re all going to die, but at least we’ll know about it beforehand.” Daveth cackled mirthlessly.
They headed deeper between the trees on a faint trail, the men talking perhaps a bit more loudly than was wise. Elizabeth walked with them but said nothing. She was missing Huan dearly. She could have taken on any number of darkspawn if only her loyal dog was by her side…
“Ah! There!” Alistair pointed ahead to where the path led between two outcroppings of dirt; a tree had fallen over them forming a bridge, and dead bodies hung from it. “That’s a darkspawn ambush waiting to happen.”
“Should we go around?” Ser Jory asked. “I realize we need this darkspawn blood, but surely an ambush is a bad idea…”
“Don’t be a pansy,” Daveth grunted, pulling his bow from his back. “A few arrows should flush them out of hiding. Where do you think they’ll be, Warden?”
“I’d suggest those bushes, personally. But I’m not a darkspawn so I couldn’t say for sure…”
Daveth fired, and was rewarded with a shrieking gurgle – and then at least a dozen hideous dirty monsters burst out of the undergrowth.
Elizabeth had never seen a darkspawn and like Alistair had said, she was unprepared for the experience. They grinned and gibbered at the humans with sharp teeth in ape-like faces, with glaring little eyes. Some of them were tall and lean, and others were short and squat, but they were all strongly muscled. Some carried dirty blades; some fired arrows back at the little group. Daveth swore.
And Elizabeth was countercharging, plunging recklessly ahead of the men, her sword flashing in the weak light of the sun. She bulled into the first darkspawn with her shield and knocked it down. Adrenaline was surging through her, and… anger? She didn’t understand it, but if it fueled her blows with more force, if it gave her the strength to kill, she would be as angry as she needed to be.
This was much easier than fighting humans.
“Maker’s breath, what are you doing!?” Alistair cried, rushing up to stand shoulder to shoulder with her.
The darkspawn were terrifying opponents. Besides their monstrous appearance, they were horribly strong and every one of them fought like a cornered animal. But she was better. Wasn’t she?
She stabbed another one in the throat and dodged its neighbour. Another one was taking a swing at her but jerked backwards, an arrow in its face.
Jory was on the other side of her, his two-hander making short work of several darkspawn at once. Another dirty blade came flashing at her and she flinched, blocking instinctively. She definitely didn’t want to get hit by these swords. She traded blows with that monster, then took its sword on her shield and lunged in for a killing blow. They were attempting to flank the humans, but that meant the darkspawn archers were vulnerable, and if she could kill them, it would be that much less dangerous.
She staggered back from the blow of a monster’s shield, slammed her own shield against a short one, and darted forward to hit the archers with everything she had.
When the last darkspawn had been slain, Alistair walked over to her, cleaning his sword. “So, uh… any particular reason you did that? That charging thing?”
She shrugged, pulling barb-headed arrows out of her shield. “I didn’t feel like delaying combat and letting myself get more scared. And the closer I am to the archers, the sooner I can kill them.”
“Well, I think you were very brave… and also very reckless. Do try not to get separated from us, all right?”
She said nothing, but her lips tightened and her chin raised, just a little.
What are you doing? her mind told her. You have no battle experience and they do. You have no time to wallow like an emotional little girl. Stop being a fool because you were scolded justly, and follow their example.
Her head dropped. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I won’t do it anymore.”
“It’s okay,” Alistair said quickly, smiling warmly at her. “Like I said, you are very brave. Just wait for us, all right?”
She nodded, and reached up to check that her hair was still in its twin braided buns, out of the way.
But it was time for the messy business of getting darkspawn blood into her vial. Alistair stood watch while she wrestled with a heavy, armoured corpse and her knife, and wondered if cursing really made things easier, though she said nothing. The others were not having an easier time than she was, either.
The vial was mostly full after a few minutes, and her hands and the vial were dripping with foul-smelling black blood. It had been spattered all over her armour from fighting, but she looked around to see if there was a pool of water nearby where she could wash. Even if it were icy, she would rather freeze her hands than have that blood soaking them for an instant longer than necessary.
When everything was ready, they set out again. They still had a long way to go before they reached the archives.
They had fought darkspawn several more times before they saw a hill of stone rising out of the muddy forest. Jory had admiringly said she was as strong as a mabari, and that lightened her expression a bit.
They arrived at the ruin on the hill and entered through the broken gate. The entire roof had fallen in, and any furniture had rotted away long ago in the damp climate.
“I’m not sure how the documents might be sealed,” Alistair said as they spread out to look around. “Probably in a chest of some kind? Give a shout if you find anything.”
They had searched fruitlessly for perhaps twenty minutes when Ser Jory turned towards the entrance and gave a yelp. Daveth looked up, hissed, and came to stand next to Jory, glaring at the woman who stood there.
“Well, well, what have we here?” asked the woman. “Vultures? Scavengers poking amidst the bones of a corpse long-since picked clean? Or only intruders, come into these darkspawn-filled Wilds of mine looking for easy prey?”
“Neither!” Alistair snapped. “We are Grey Wardens and this is a Warden tower.”
“Easy,” Daveth muttered. “She’s a witch. She’ll turn us all into toads!”
“’Tis a tower no longer,” the woman said. “The Wilds claimed this desiccated corpse long ago.” Her tone was an odd mixture of arrogant, knowing, and curious. She began to walk closer to them, slowly, almost sashaying. Her peculiar clothes – and lack of clothes, especially on the upper half of her body, in the cold autumn weather, caught Elizabeth’s eye. “I have watched your progress for some time. ‘Where do they go,’ I wondered, ‘and why are they here?’ And now you disturb ashes none have touched for so long. Why is that?”
The men had all drawn away from her as she approached. “Don’t answer her,” Daveth whispered. “She looks Chasind, and that means there might be more of them about. Or the witch thing I mentioned before.”
“Chasind?” Ser Jory asked.
“The native peoples,” Daveth said.
“It’s none of your business,” Alistair said, frowning for the first time Elizabeth had known him.
“You are afraid barbarians will swoop down on you?” the woman said, mockingly, sweeping out her arms in an illustrating gesture.
“Yes, swooping is bad,” Alistair snarked back.
The woman rolled her eyes. “You spend too much time thinking about idle fancies and foolish legends.” She turned her attention away from the men and squarely to Elizabeth. “You there. Women do not frighten like little boys. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine.”
Elizabeth met her gaze. This woman was a person like the rest of them, whether she was dangerous or not. “My name is Elizabeth. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
She smiled. “Now that is a proper civil greeting, even out here in the Wilds. You may call me Morrigan. May I guess your purpose? You sought something that was kept here, something which is here no longer. Documents, perhaps?”
“You mean you stole them! You’re… some kind of… sneaky… witch-thief!” Alistair burst out.
Morrigan snorted with amusement. “How very eloquent. How does one steal from dead men?”
“Quite easily, it seems. Those documents are Grey Warden property, and I suggest you return them.”
“I will not, for it was not I who took them,” Morrigan retorted. “Invoke a dead name if you wish; I am not threatened.”
“May I ask if you know who it was?” Elizabeth said, attempting to take over her allies’ side of the conversation. It seemed to go more smoothly when Morrigan spoke with her.
“’Twas my mother, in fact.”
“May we meet her?”
“What? Are you crazy?” Daveth whispered to her.
Morrigan walked towards Elizabeth so the two women were eye to eye. “If you wish it, I can take you to see her. ‘Tis not far from here, and you may ask her for your papers yourself.” Morrigan’s golden eyes stared coolly into Elizabeth’s blue-grey ones.
“I would be most grateful,” Elizabeth said. “Though may I ask why you would wish to help us?”
“Why not? I do not meet many people, and it is something amusing to do.”
“I am willing to go with you,” Elizabeth said.
“Follow me, then, if it pleases you,” Morrigan said, and turned.
“My lady, you cannot go alone!” Ser Jory cried.
“We’ll all end up in the pot, you’ll see,” Daveth muttered, as Elizabeth began to follow Morrigan out of the ruin and deeper into the Wilds.
“If the pot’s warmer than these Wilds, it might be a nice change,” Jory said.
It was not far, as Morrigan had said – perhaps half an hour from the Warden tower.
“We have to get those documents, but I don’t like this. It’s too convenient,” Alistair muttered to her on the way.
Elizabeth looked at him. “You believe it’s a trap?”
“No, but… I definitely don’t think we should trust her.”
“But until she gives us reason to do otherwise, we may as well be polite to her. It might just get us what we want without further delay.”
“You’re the one she likes talking to, so I’ll try to stay out of the way from now on… but I don’t like this.”
A moment later, they saw a ramshackle hut, looking like nothing more than several rooms had been thrown together on top of each other and had managed to balance by sheer stubbornness. An old woman with white hair was sitting on the doorstep and rose at their approach.
“Greetings, Mother,” Morrigan said to her. “I bring before you four Grey Wardens who…”
“I see them, girl,” said the woman. She hummed to herself approvingly. “Much as I expected.”
“Are you expecting us to believe you were expecting us?” Daveth inquired incredulously.
“You are required to do nothing, least of all believe,” the old woman retorted. “Shut one’s eyes tight or open one’s arms wide… Either way, one is a fool!”
“In any case, we do not wish to make you mad,” Jory said, nudging Daveth.
“That’s a smart lad… sadly irrelevent in the grand scheme of things, though it is not I who decides…” She turned to Elizabeth, eyeing her much the way Morrigan had earlier. “And what of you? What do you believe?”
Elizabeth was surprised by the question. “I… would rather not be a fool. I… I’m afraid I’m not sure I understand the question…”
“Hmm. So much about you is yet uncertain. But I believe in you. Do I? Why, it seems I do!”
Elizabeth blinked.
“So this is a Witch of the Wilds?” Alistair murmured to her.
The old woman heard him. “Witch of the Wilds, eh? Morrigan must have told you that. She fancies such tales, though she would never admit it. Oh, how she dances under the moon!” She cackled.
“Mother, please,” Morrigan said, a slight blush tinging her pale cheeks. “They did not come to listen to your wild stories.”
“True, they came for their treaties, yes? And before you begin barking, your precious protective seals wore off long ago. I have preserved these.” She stepped forward, and handed a small tote of old parchment to Elizabeth.
“You… oh. You protected them?” Alistair asked in a rather small voice.
“And why not?” the old woman challenged him. “Take that to your Commander and tell him that this Blight’s threat is greater than he realizes!”
“Thank you very much,” Elizabeth said. “We shall certainly tell him.”
“Well, time for you to go, then,” Morrigan said, beginning to make shooing motions.
“Do not be ridiculous, girl. These are your guests.”
Morrigan sighed. “Oh, very well. I shall show you out of the woods. Come, follow me.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said, bowing slightly. “If someday I can repay you, I shall.”
Morrigan might have rolled her eyes, or she might have smiled, or she might have done both.
In any case, Elizabeth had much to think about on the way back, and the men were silent too, wary of the woman who guided them with sure feet through the tangled forest.
Perhaps her eyes had been shut tightly against everything but the past that she carried in her heart like a locked cage of lead. She would rather act in the other way, opening her arms to those who needed her strength. That was what she had done up until now, hadn’t it? She had to regain that sense, even though everything had changed around her. If she was to be a Grey Warden, she would be one with as much compassion as she could muster. It seemed to be no less a responsibility than that of a bann or arlessa.
They arrived back at camp without incident; Morrigan’s directions led them slyly past any new darkspawn patrols that might have come since they had set out. It was getting dark in the sky, and soon, Alistair said, they wouldn’t be able to swing a dead cat without hitting a darkspawn. They went straight to Duncan.
Duncan had gone to the ruined chapel, where, he said, they were less likely to be disturbed.
“Why are there not more Grey Wardens here?” Elizabeth asked Alistair. “I would have thought it a deed to be witnessed by the order as a whole…”
“Not so, it’s actually very private. The Commander – that’s Duncan, in Ferelden – has to oversee and administrate, but it’s really just the recruits and a couple members. I’m just helping out, normally I wouldn’t be here either.”
“I’m not very sure about this,” Elizabeth said. “I’m only here because I have nowhere else to go.”
“Unfortunately, the Wardens are clear about this… you’re not volunteering for this. Whether you were recruited or conscripted, you were chosen because you were needed. Keeping the world free of darkspawn is more important than any personal thoughts. So, have courage, and you’ll be fine.”
“Courage?” Daveth had been eavesdropping, and he piped up now. “We’re still in danger? I thought the hard part was over!”
Duncan himself heard. “I will not lie; we Grey Wardens pay a heavy price to become what we are. Fate may decree that you pay your price now rather than later. This is why the ritual must remain so secret.”
“Then let’s get to it,” Daveth said. “I’m eager to see it now.”
“I agree,” said Jory. “Let’s have it done. Though the more I hear about it, the less I like it.”
While Daveth and Jory bickered to each other out of nerves, Elizabeth stood by herself and tried to calm herself. The suspense was making her heart race.
“All I know is that my wife is with child in Highever. If they had warned me… it just doesn’t seem fair.”
“That’s probably why they don’t,” retorted Daveth. “They’d scare away all their recruits if they did that, wouldn’t they? They do what they must.”
“Including sacrificing us?” demanded Jory.
“I’d sacrifice a lot more if it meant stopping the Blight,” Daveth said. “You saw those darkspawn, ser knight. Wouldn’t you gladly die if it meant your pretty wife would be safe from them?”
“I…” Ser Jory looked at his feet. “I just never faced an enemy I could not defeat with my blade before.”
“Yeah, maybe you’ll die. Maybe we’ll all die. But if nobody faces the darkspawn, we’ll all die for sure.”
“The Joining is ready,” Duncan said, turning towards them. “The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight, when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation. So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered its taint.”
Ser Jory blanched. “Of those… creatures?”
“As the first Grey Wardens did before us, and as we did before you. This is the source of our power and victory. Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint. We can use it to sense darkspawn and slay the Archdemon who leads them.”
“Those who survive?” Elizabeth asked, low but clear.
“Not all those who drink the blood survive,” Alistair said. “And those who do are forever changed. That’s why it’s so secret. It’s the price we pay.”
“Alistair, would you say the words of Joining?” Duncan raised a large silver chalice, slightly filled with black blood.
Alistair bowed his head. “Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and we shall join you one day.”
Duncan looked across the row of three recruits, evaluating them somehow. “Daveth, step forward. From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden.”
Daveth’s eyes glittered. He reached for the chalice eagerly and raised it to his lips.
He managed to hand it back to Duncan before, he reached for his throat, coughing violently and groaning in pain.
Duncan’s forehead creased in concern. “I am sorry, Daveth.”
Daveth collapsed on the ground, convulsing. His last cough spewed blood from his lips and he lay still.
“Jory, step forward,” Duncan said, wiping the rim of the chalice and refilling it with the second vial. “From this moment forth…”
Jory’s eyes darted around, looking for an escape route, his hand going to his sword. “B-but I have a wife. A child! Had I known…”
“There is no turning back,” Duncan said sternly.
“No!” Jory cried, drawing his sword fully, backing against a white pillar. “You ask too much! There is no honour in this!”
Duncan’s face was regretful for the briefest of instances, and then he handed the goblet to Alistair and drew his long redsteel knife.
Elizabeth turned away. She did not want to see this. But she heard enough; the clash of weapons, Jory giving an agonized grunt, the slump of a limp body.
“I am sorry,” Duncan said softly.
There was a pause, and then he said. “Step forward, Elizabeth. From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden.”
She looked around, from one corpse to the other, of men who not five minutes ago had been alive and well, and at Duncan, offering her the cursed chalice. Alistair stood by, looking vaguely upset.
If she drank, she might die. If she did not drink, she would die.
With a desperate lunge, she snatched the heavy silver goblet out of his hands and raised it to her lips. Undignified it might be, but she was no longer Lady Cousland in this moment, only a frightened eighteen-year-old girl.
It was metallic and unbelievably bitter, and she felt like throwing up the instant it touched her tongue. Somehow, some of it made it to the back of her throat and she swallowed.
The chalice fell from her suddenly limp hands and Duncan caught it, she supposed – she didn’t hear it hit the ground. The blood was poison indeed, coursing through her veins like fire, her heart pounding to drive it along. She heard a demonic voice whispering in her ears and her eyes rolled back in her head as she fell backwards. The voice grew to a scream and she had a sudden, intense vision of a great black dragon. She didn’t feel herself land.
She half woke some time later, and sensed someone beside her. Dazedly, she turned her head, and saw Alistair, twiddling his thumbs next to her cot.
Her movement startled him, and he jumped a little. “Hello! Ah… feeling all right?”
“No,” she croaked.
He grimaced and shrugged sympathetically. “Right, right. It’s a pretty rough sequence even if you survive. I was woozy and ill for hours after mine. Just rest for now.”
She tried to do as he said, but now her mind was awake, reeling through the aftereffects of the poison, and all it could think of was that the Grey Warden Joining ceremony was horribly barbaric. There was no question why it was secret. That sort of thing just didn’t happen in civilized society!
Two good men were dead through the whims of fate and the Grey Wardens’ implacable decree.
If she survived this battle, she would see Ser Jory’s wife and child taken care of. What little resources she had, she would find a way to help them. Even if now she was sworn to silence as surely as if she’d had her tongue cut out. She hated it. It was horribly unfair.
Tears were gathering in the corners of her eyes, spilling over into her ears as she stared at the black, overcast night sky, and she really couldn’t stifle her sobs today.
“Oh no, what’s the matter?” Alistair asked, leaning over her with an almost comically worried look.
She glanced at him briefly and then returned to staring at the night. She must have been moved to the field hospital. “I feel like I’m cursed. Everywhere I go, people die, and I do not.”
“I hope that’s not the case,” he said. “I’d like to continue living, myself.”
“Why is this happening!?” she burst out, a fresh well of tears flooding out.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Um… you’ve never seen dead people before, have you?”
“I have, but… not anyone that I knew… Before, maybe some soldiers wouldn’t come back from a bandit attack. And now… I’m… all alone, and even my new acquaintences fall dead around me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Ser Jory was right. It isn’t fair.”
“He should have taken his chances with the cup,” Alistair protested. “We can’t let people know about the secret, otherwise it’s not a secret.”
“I know but I don’t like it!” She rolled so her back was facing him, with some effort. “Just leave me alone right now.”
“Sorry…”
There was a pause, and then he began to speak again, as if to himself. “In my Joining, only one of us died, but it was still horrible… I really don’t blame you for your reaction. I’m just glad you survived, at least.”
She made a muffled grunting noise, and wisely he left her alone. After a while, she fell asleep again.
When she woke again, it was morning, and Alistair was no longer there. She still felt weak, but like she could move on her own power now. A nurse helped her relieve herself and fed her, and after she had eaten she felt up to walking around on her own.
She was stretching when she saw Alistair again. He had a big goofy smile plastered all over his face. “Hello! Good to see you up! You should build up your strength, because we’re going to need it tonight! It’s a while before we’re needed for Cailan’s super secret strategy meeting, though.”
She nodded to him. “What happens tonight?”
“Why, the big battle, of course! You hadn’t forgotten, right?”
“I see. Is my brother back yet?”
“Your brother? Who is he?”
“Fergus Cousland.”
“Fergus – you’re a Cousland?”
She nodded. “Was a Cousland.”
Alistair shrugged, his eyes still wide with the news. “I’m afraid he’s not here yet. But I understand you’d want to see him right away. I’ll tell the gate guards that if he turns up, at any point before the battle, he’s to come and see you as soon as he can.”
“Thank you, Alistair.”
“Think nothing of it. Eh… do you need any help?”
“With what?”
“Well, you know… getting back on your feet and in fighting shape.”
She stopped a moment to consider. Some light sparring would probably help immensely. After a jog around the camp. She was getting stronger by the minute, and she would be ready to fight this evening. Her body still felt like every one of her veins had been burned from the inside, right down to her fingers and toes, and she felt no manifesting Grey Warden powers, but it was true. She was alive, and she would fight the damned Blight.
“Elizabeth?” Alistair was still waiting for her answer.
“Yes,” she said slowly. “In a bit. I’m going for a run first. Then… would you like to do some sparring?”
His face lit up as if she’d asked if he’d like a cookie. “Yes, I would like that, in fact. I’ll wait here, then.” He sat on her cot and stared at her expectantly.
“And I’m going to say hello to my mabari.”
“Okay.”
“…” She ran out of things to pester him with and went on her run.
By the late afternoon, she was feeling reasonably healthy. The sensitivity of her body hadn’t completely gone away still, but she could move and fight as if nothing had happened. Alistair had been very supportive during their sparring match, though his chatter was a bit distracting. She was very grateful that she hadn’t been wounded the previous day. That would have complicated things.
Dinner was early, and then King Cailan had his strategy meeting. Elizabeth wondered why she and Alistair were required, since Cailan was also meeting with Teyrn Loghain and many other lords and captains – her brother not among them, she noted with heavy heart – and Duncan.
The meeting was not long, but she soon noticed Alistair was not paying the least attention. She tried to follow along, but most of it had nothing to do with her and was about troop placements and attack patterns for people she didn’t know in places she didn’t know. Teyrn Loghain seemed to be scowling a lot, and he and Cailan seemed to be disagreeing on a great many things – though Cailan never lost his confident smile.
Suddenly, Duncan’s name was spoken, and the senior Grey Warden stood. “Yes, your Majesty?”
“Are your new members ready for their special assignment?” Cailan asked, beaming.
Duncan bowed. “They are. Would you be so good as to explain to them?”
Alistair struggled to his feet as Elizabeth rose to hers, and both bowed in readiness.
“Only the lady is present?”
“The others… did not survive the ordeal.”
Teyrn Loghain raised an eyebrow, but Cailan was already rambling on. “That’s a pity. The others looked capable as well. But I understand congratulations are in order. Well done! At any rate, you are required to ascend the Tower of Ishal. When we sound the signal, you are to light a beacon there to signal the other wing of the army, led by Loghain, to advance, so we may crush the darkspawn between hammer and anvil!”
Elizabeth glanced at Alistair, and he looked back at her blankly. “I understand, your Majesty, but which signal should we listen for?”
“Ah, you’ll want the one that goes tah-ratatataaah… Nothing too complicated; it’s an important signal. You’ll have about an hour; we want the darkspawn to get good and stuck in our front lines.”
“Understood, sire.”
“Duncan, I will be joining you and the rest of your Grey Wardens personally.”
At this, Loghain finally exploded. “You risk too much, your Majesty! The darkspawn horde is too dangerous for you to play hero on the front lines!”
Cailan raised an eyebrow. “If it’s too dangerous, perhaps we should wait for the Orlesian Wardens after all…?”
“I protest the notion of needing the Orlesians to defend outselves,” Loghain growled. “Do not forget that they enslaved us for over a century.”
“Our arguments with the Orlesians are a thing of the past,” Cailan said. “Do not forget that either.”
“Your Majesty is too optimistic,” Loghain said, but subsided, though he still glared furiously.
Cailan looked again at Alistair and Elizabeth. “Still, two of you is too few… You will need at least another person to accompany you. Ah! How about Preston? He will do nicely.”
“Preston, sire?” Duncan asked.
“A junior mage who probably shouldn’t be on the front lines either. He’s just a precaution, you understand. I’m not expecting any trouble for your students.” Cailan’s eyes sparkled. “I cannot wait! The Grey Wardens battle alongside the King of Ferelden to stem the tide of evil! Oh, this will be glorious!”
“Aww,” Alistair said as they left the meeting. It was beginning to rain. “I wanted to be in the big battle beside Duncan.”
“This is at the King’s personal request, Alistair,” Duncan said. “It’s vitally important. If the beacon is not lit, Teyrn Loghain’s men won’t know when to charge.”
“I know, but… he needs two Grey Wardens and a mage standing up there and holding the torch? Just in case?” Alistair sounded more sarcastic than anxious.
“Ser,” Elizabeth said, “would my dog be allowed to join me? We… fight well together. I know the king’s army has many mabari.”
“I will ask the houndmaster.”
“And I had another question… what if the archdemon arrives?”
“We soil our drawers, that’s what,” Alistair snorted.
“If that occurs, leave it to us,” Duncan said. “I want no heroics from either of you.” He looked towards the camp exit, where men were streaming out. “I must join the others. Remember, you are both Grey Wardens. Be worthy of the title.”
Elizabeth’s lips tightened just a little, but Alistair nodded firmly. “Maker watch over you, Duncan.”
“May He watch over us all,” Duncan replied, and walked swiftly towards the kennels.
Alistair and Elizabeth set out the other way. “Well,” said Alistair, “it’s either going to be horribly exciting, or horribly dull.”
“I wonder where we’ll meet Preston,” Elizabeth said, but a bark from behind her made her stop and turn. “Huan! Good boy. Gooood boy.” Huan frolicked around her and scratched his ear.
“That’s a… nice… mabari,” Alistair said hesitantly.
“Isn’t he?” Elizabeth said. “He’s my closest friend. He’ll make sure we get up the Tower safely.”
“Uh-huh,” Alistair said doubtfully. She chose to ignore the doubt and pressed onward across the bridge to the other fortress. Ranks of archers were lined up at the rail of the bridge, and many ballistas were stretched taut, ready only for the order to fire.
“Quickly, we only have an hour,” she said over her shoulder.
“Coming, coming.”
A thin, nervous-looking young man was waiting for them at the far end of the bridge. “Thank goodness you’re here!”
“Are you Preston?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes. I was worried I’d have to climb the Tower of Ishal all alone…”
“Have no fear,” Elizabeth said. “We are your companions. This is Alistair, and my name is Elizabeth. And this is my mabari, Huan.”
“N-nice to meet you,” Preston said. “Uh, I don’t know if you care, but my specialty is Fire, though I know some Lightning and Entropy spells as well.”
“I don’t know what to do with this information,” Alistair told him. “Do what you please as long as you don’t light us on fire, all right?”
“R-right!”
“I think it’s this way to the Tower,” Alistair said, leading them onwards. They headed to the left, through a forest of broken pillars, until they reached a high arched door flanked by two guards.
“We’re the Grey Wardens assigned to the Tower,” he said to them, and they saluted and opened the door for them.
“Take care,” said one of them.
“Why, anything wrong in there?” Preston asked, clutching his mage’s staff.
“Just in case,” said the guard. “There’s a battle going on, after all.”
“Thanks,” said Alistair, maybe sarcastically, maybe not – Elizabeth couldn’t tell.
They entered the tower, which was built rather like a honeycomb – a large central chamber ringed with smaller ones. To get to the stairs, they would have to cross the large central chamber, Alistair explained. In fact, they would have to cross the tower on every level – built that way, supposedly, to make it difficult to capture.
“Fortunately, we don’t have to capture it,” he said cheerfully. “There’s only three of us, after all.” Huan barked. “Er… three and a half.” Huan growled. “Fine! Four of us.”
But now, halfway across the central chamber, Huan was sniffing and growling at the way ahead.
“What’s the matter?” Elizabeth asked her dog. “Is there danger?”
He barked.
“Yes, I suppose it would be a good idea to ready weapons,” Alistair began, and then a bestial howl drowned him out.
Darkspawn began charging at them – not so many as they had fought in the woods, but there were darkspawn in the Tower, and that was not part of the plan.
Preston yelped and cast a massive fireball, blowing most of the attackers away and setting the rest on fire to varying degrees. Huan leapt forward and dragged another to the ground, and Alistair and Elizabeth made short work of the rest.
“Maker’s breath! What are darkspawn doing here!?” Alistair sputtered. “There wasn’t supposed to be any resistance!”
“I don’t know,” Elizabeth said. “I don’t know how they could have gotten past the armies. Or even the guards.”
“You c-could try telling them they’re in the wrong place?” Preston suggested.
“Riiight,” Alistair drawled. “Because this is clearly all just a misunderstanding. We’ll laugh about it later.”
“We must press on,” Elizabeth said. “It will take much longer to reach the top of the tower if we must fight for every step.”
“Yes, of course,” Preston said. “We’re right behind you.”
Huan barked, already at the top of the next flight of stairs.
There were monsters on every floor, not enough to stop them, but more than enough to slow them down. Elizabeth, having been startled by Preston’s first fireball, now watched carefully to see that he was pointing his spells well away from her before she charged recklessly to battle.
Magic was an immensely useful asset, it seemed. She didn’t know that much about mages except what her tutor had taught her, and while she had seen a few in her short lifetime, she had never seen magic in battle. For now, all she could do was keep her head down around it, keep Preston’s unarmoured self safe from the darkspawn, try to keep Huan from getting in the line of his spells, and set her sword and shield to thrust and parry and kill the darkspawn.
They had cleared the penultimate floor when Huan looked suddenly at the ceiling. Elizabeth followed his gaze and frowned.
“What is it?” asked Alistair.
“Shh,” she said. “Listen.”
The ceiling quivered, and the sound of heavy footsteps thudded through the tower.
Alistair’s eyes widened. “I hope that’s not what I think it is.”
“What do you think it is?”
“A troll.”
“A troll!?” Preston’s voice cracked.
“Or an ogre. Probably an ogre.”
“Hip hip huzzah,” Elizabeth said flatly. “Let’s kill it. I’m sure we’re late.”
“Have you never seen an ogre?” Alistair blurted out. “Silly question. Of course you haven’t. I’ve seen one, from a distance, and… I’m not sure how we’re going to fight it.”
“We distract it, and let Preston blast it with magic,” she said. “Got that, boy?”
Huan barked happily.
“O-okay,” Preston said. “I can do that. Just keep it away from me; I won’t survive even a tap from something that big.”
She nodded and turned to the stairs.
The ogre, or so she assumed it was, was on the other side of the room from the stairs, devouring the corpse of an unfortunate soldier. Four darkspawn were milling around, but when they saw the humans, they set up a screeching and charged at them.
“We need to take the small ones first!” Alistair shouted.
“Hold on!” Preston cried, and a bolt of lightning cracked from his staff, striking three of the four. One of them dropped dead, and the others fell over and twitched for a moment before getting back up. That was all the time Elizabeth and Alistair needed.
By this time, the ogre was well aware of them, and Alistair squawked when he realized just how close it had gotten. The Tower-top was not that wide, and it had closed the gap far too quickly for Elizabeth’s liking; its pace was slow, but its legs were long, and she had the feeling that if it managed to get enough room and momentum for a charge, it would be like trying to stop a bull.
“Preston, go!” she shouted. “We’ll hold it off.”
“Right!” The thin mage sprinted off, kiting around the circular space to flank the ogre so he could cast spells without hitting Alistair, Elizabeth, or Huan.
Elizabeth gazed up at the hulking brute in gaping-mouthed fright; it was at least twice as tall as she was, with a symmetrical cluster of giant horns that made it taller still. If she had to try to wrap her arms around its leg, she might have been able to join her hands on the other side… maybe. It had an ugly darkspawn face with large, jagged teeth, and it roared at her, sending flecks of spittle, blood, and flesh pattering against her shield. Lightning flashed and thunder cracked, almost overhead, illuminating the monster with weird blue-white light.
She realized that she was trembling.
“Easy,” Alistair said. “It’s easier to counterattack these than to attack it, if I remember correctly. Try to stay out of its reach, though! It can crush you with one hand.”
“R-right,” she said, and pressed her lips together harder to try to master her fear.
The ogre decided it was done roaring and erupted into a flurry of punches; each blow of its fist made the air whistle. Elizabeth gasped and backed away, keeping just beyond its reach. Huan growled and barked, circling it, trying to figure out the best way to attack it. On its other side, Alistair shouted as he attacked, his sword swinging at the creature’s arm.
It lit up with a yellow-white glow for an instant. “It should be a bit weaker now!” Preston yelled to them breathlessly.
“Thanks!” Alistair said, ducking another punch.
The ogre looked away from Elizabeth, focusing now on Alistair, who now began to back away – but not quickly enough. A strike from its fist struck his shield square on, shattering it and sending him tumbling away.
Elizabeth cried out and moved to attack, striking out with her own sword. It almost bounced off the ogre’s tough hide, but she hadn’t begun her training yesterday; her father’s sword sliced into the thick leathery skin and sent a gout of blood over her arm. The ogre bellowed, but it didn’t seem terribly inconvenienced by the wound. It whirled, and a giant hand closed around her waist, plucking her effortlessly from the ground. She screamed.
“Whoa there!” A bolt of white light flashed in front of her, striking the ogre’s face, and it roared again, dropping her to claw at its eyes. She landed, winded, and rolled on the slick wet stone floor. “Are you okay!?” called Preston.
She took a shaky breath. “Yes, thank you.”
Huan was worrying the creature’s knees, now, and the monster was attempting to stomp on her dog, still half-blind from Preston’s spell. Alistair was climbing to his feet, testing his arm with a pained face – but his arm didn’t seem broken. Thank the Maker for Preston’s weakening spell.
Attacking its arms and legs was foolishness. It must have weak points… but those would probably be its face and chest, and those were behind its deadly embrace.
Perhaps if she could climb on it from behind, and cut its throat?
A hysterical giggle worked its way out of her throat. That was madness. It would be like climbing a very angry tree. She wasn’t ready to do that, even if she had an idea for how to get so high. Maybe Alistair could give her a boost…
“I’m ready!” Preston cried. “Call your dog off, or he’ll get zapped!”
“Huan!” Elizabeth called, and whistled.
Preston gave a shout, and a giant bolt of blue lightning shot from his staff and struck the ogre in the head. It froze, twitching, as its body was wreathed in blue arcs. Alistair, Elizabeth, and Huan backed away slowly as it swayed in place, sparks popping from its skin. It grunted, and slowly toppled over onto its face.
Elizabeth sagged, bracing her hands against her knees. “Is it dead…?”
Alistair reached to poke it with its sword.
“Wait!” Preston said. “Your metal sword will only get you electrocuted. Let me… Ah… on second thought, take my staff.”
Alistair took the wooden staff and prodded the ogre gently in the head. It didn’t move.
“I think I will burn it just to be safe,” Preston said.
“After we light the beacon would be best,” Elizabeth said, recovering herself. “We’re late already. I’m sure it’s been more than an hour.” She looked around and saw a large pile of wood, all ready for them, while Huan gently headbutted her hand, begging for praise. “The guards must have prepared this for us.”
“I’ll take care of that, then…” Preston directed a gesture at the pile of wood, and it burst into a gout of flame, reaching high into the stormy sky. Elizabeth rushed to the parapet to see what was happening in the battle. It was very hard to tell from that height; all she could see were tiny pinpricks of light from torches, and occasionally the brightly-coloured flare of a spell of some kind. But surely… wasn’t that Teyrn Loghain’s army? The placement, from what she remember of the strategy meeting, was correct… But they were not charging into battle… They were marching away from it!
Suddenly, she felt something like a punch in the arm, and gasped – then gave a small scream as she looked down and saw a long arrow piercing her arm. She whirled and saw darkspawn pouring up from the stairs, most of them aiming bows at the little group.
She tried to flail her shield off her back and into position, tried to get over to vulnerable Preston, but she was too late. Another arrow caught her in the stomach in a gap between two plates and she fell. Her vision blurred from pain and she fainted.