I’ve had this ridiculously long chapter 95% complete for months… and then today I was like “it’s 3am, I can’t sleep, I haven’t done hardly anything useful today… FINISH IT”. So I did. Now I can do the Circle Tower chapter, which has some interesting bits that I’m looking forward to! In fact, despite the length of this chapter, it’s mostly exposition and other stuff that I can’t skip but am not quite as interested in. But next chapter… I know everyone hates the Fade portion of the game, but I think it’s gonna be pretty great this time.

Stuff has happened, including the end of the school year (and finally some time to relax, in fact so much time that I get afflicted with ennui and then days like today end up happening : P ), the national organist convention (still need to do a write-up over on my professional(…ish) blog), and a visit to BC (didn’t want to leave, it’s so much more humid over here : P ). I’ve been playing SWTOR steadily, and finished watching Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex: 2nd Gig, and I’m hoping to get back into the art/writing side of things over the next month or so. Hopefully I can finish this particular story by the end of the summer perhaps? *fingers crossed*

I promised to tell you how Zevran did some impossible things, so let’s see if I can get those thoughts back in order after 4 months and at 4am. Hmmm… How did Zevran 1) learn about Howe’s Grey Warden assassination job in time to 2) volunteer for it back in Antiva, and then 3) sail over to Ferelden, where he 4) met with Howe and Loghain before 5) figuring out exactly where the Warden was to set an ambush?? Now, in some tellings of the tale, this could work – for instance, if you go to visit the dwarves first. But in this telling, which is the most logical telling (imo), that just plain requires game-breaking logic. So when we meet Zevran in this story, his recounting of what events brought him to Liz’s side will be slightly different.

Another thing that is a little bit odd is the secret passage into Redcliffe Castle… The windmill is on a cliff, overlooking the village, so the passage goes… down the cliff, under the village, under the lake, and then up into the castle… That’s REALLY impressive medieval engineering. : D

EDIT: added some Sten lines that were too good to pass up.

Previous chapter: Lothering, next chapter: The Circle Tower

 

Redcliffe

 

Leliana saw them first. “Two dwarves against… I count ten darkspawn!”

“Let’s even those odds,” Alistair growled.

Elizabeth was out in front, charging to the rescue as fast as she could. Huan was already there, getting between one dwarf and his darkspawn attackers, barking furiously. The dwarves were backed against their cart, and their ox was lowing unhappily. She knocked a darkspawn to the ground with her shield and blocked the attack of another with her sword.

Sten had charged into battle as well, despite only having his armour, but he had seen there were weapons on the cart, and, seizing a two-handed maul, swung a powerful blow towards their enemies.

Elizabeth felt anger fill her again. It was easy to hate the darkspawn, easy to strike more strongly against them. She did not forget her training, which stood her in good stead against their brutal assailants, but as she killed one she felt a sense of satisfaction that she had never felt fighting against anything else.

Leliana’s arrows were unerring in their flight; Alistair, despite his lack of shield, fought bravely at her shoulder. Between the six of them, and the one dwarf – the other was cowering by the cart – they made short work of the darkspawn.

As they caught their breath, the dwarf turned to Alistair. “We thank you for your assistance! I’m sure we’d have been done for without you!”

“You’re welcome!” said Alistair. “But Elizabeth here is our leader.”

Elizabeth found her hand seized and shaken heartily. “Many thanks, Miss! If there’s anything we can do for you, just let us know!”

“Well…” Elizabeth glanced at Sten. “Might my companion keep the weapon he holds?”

“Yes, of course! It would be my pleasure.”

Sten grunted and holstered the thing on his back.

“Oh, do you have any shields?” Alistair asked. “I couldn’t find any in Lothering…”

“I might have one or two around here somewhere…”

“Just take one from the darkspawn,” Morrigan sniffed. “You don’t really have leisure to be picky about it.”

“That’s stupid,” Alistair said. “I’m not using a darkspawn’s shield!”

“Found it!” The dwarf popped out of his cart with a human-sized shield. “How will this do, eh?”

“I think that will do nicely,” Alistair said happily. “I feel much better now!”

“Happy to be of service. Now, my name is Bodhan Feddic, and this here is my son, Sandal. We’re merchants, obviously, and we’re headed to Redcliffe to escape those monsters. If you hadn’t come along when you did, we would have not succeeded!”

“What a coincidence,” Alistair said. “We are also headed to Redcliffe!” He turned to Elizabeth. “What do you say, should we travel together? There’s safety in numbers!”

“That would be grand,” Feddic said, looking at her too.

She nodded. “That will be fine. Let us help you collect your things.”

 

They traveled the rest of the day in the company of the dwarf, who seemed slightly nervous but very jolly, even in the face of their misfortunes. And he was a salesman, and a talkative one – he tried to sell Leliana gloves, to sell Morrigan a dress – the witch glared at him so harshly Elizabeth was afraid he would melt on the spot – and to sell Elizabeth herself a hat, of all things. But while he carried a good supply of clothes, he also had more practical things, such as weapons, armour, first aid supplies, and food. Elizabeth did not want to buy anything – she wasn’t sure exactly how much money Alistair had left, but she wanted to save as much as they could.

The son seemed a simple sort, speaking little but smiling much, in a vacant sort of way. Feddic explained that he was a savant at enchanting weapons and armour, and didn’t really care for much else in way of conversation.

During the day she, and Leliana, and Morrigan were all accosted by Sten. “I do not understand,” he said. “You look like women.”

They exchanged confused glances. “How kind of you to notice,” Morrigan answered, turning her head coyly and stretching seductively.

“Not what I meant. What are you doing here?”

“Fighting the Blight?” Leliana asked.

Sten grunted and turned to Elizabeth. “You are a Grey Warden, which means you can’t be a woman. Women are priests, artisans, farmers or shopkeepers. None of them have any place in fighting.”

Elizabeth frowned, trying not to feel hurt. Clearly this was more than the slowly-dying, traditional Fereldan view that women were too delicate or weak-willed to fight. Sten was a Qunari and she had no idea how to approach him. “You have no women who fight?”

“No. Why would our women wish to be men?”

“We don’t,” Leliana said, blinking a bit too rapidly. “We just wish to fight and we happen to be women.”

“This conversation is boring,” Morrigan announced, and moved off in Alistair’s direction.

“Do your women also wish to live on the moon?” Sten demanded. “That makes the same amount of sense.”

“Sten, I don’t understand your point,” Elizabeth said, trying not to be timid. “Why should a woman not fight?”

Sten sighed. “We are born, Qunari or elf or dwarf or human. We do not choose the size of our hands, the colour of our hair, the land we are from, whether we are foolish or intelligent. We simply are. That is the Qun.”

“We can choose what to do with our lives,” Elizabeth said, although it flashed into her head that he had at least part of a point – her birth as a noblewoman made it easier for her to learn to fight and fight well. So she amended her answer. “It is true we do not choose many things about ourselves, and that affects the choices we do make. It is also true there are times when it is difficult to make decisions: a slave may not choose to do many things or he will lose his ability to choose forever, with death. It is one reason I detest slavery. But in all that, I believe that it is possible for a woman to choose to fight and still remain a woman.”

“Hm. We’ll see,” was all that Sten said. She wondered whether he was doubting her ability to fight, or whether she did not count as a woman now but more of a strange genderless creature.

“That was rather well said,” Leliana told her. “Have you done some thinking on this?”

“There have been times when I have had to convince stuffy banns and arls that Teyrn Cousland’s daughter is within her rights to bear a sword,” Elizabeth said. “I shall have to think more on it.” And see if Sten would tell her more of his people. She was at a significant disadvantage. But, if he didn’t know that woman could and would fight in Ferelden, he was at a disadvantage as well.

They camped in the evening in a little hollow by the road. Feddic and his son turned their ox loose to graze and made their own little campfire slightly apart from the one the companions made. Morrigan, too, withdrew slightly from the group and sat away from their fire, and it seemed to Elizabeth she was uncomfortable among so many people.

They slept early. At Alistair’s insistance, the three women shared the tent and the sleeping bags, and Alistair, Sten, and Huan slept outside.

 

She was standing – standing? Sitting? Perhaps, she only existed, without pose or substance – in a murky, black-green haze. Something was terribly wrong, something which chilled her to her bones.

Something was hunting her. But she couldn’t move.

Something massive was coming, something huge and old and evil, desiring to devour her and the rest of the world in a single gulp.

She had felt this before, somehow, but never this strongly…

Then she saw it – a gigantic dragon, far larger than she had ever imagined from the stories her father used to tell her. Black and purple, with baleful eyes, it soared into her vision through the murk and swooped around her, and she felt horror constrict her throat. It spoke words she couldn’t understand in a voice deeper and more powerful than thunder. It was searching for her, and any moment it would see her… She felt so tiny, so helpless, and she couldn’t move!

It had seen her! With a flap of its ponderous, leathery wings, it turned to her, and its jaws opened in a roar that grew to a malevolent shriek…

Elizabeth screamed.

 

She screamed again as she felt herself pinned down, but now she could move, and she thrashed against her attacker, throwing them off with desperate strength.

“Oof!” said Leliana’s voice.

“What in the world-” said Morrigan’s voice.

“May I come- I know what’s wrong!” Alistair’s voice sounded slightly muffled.

Elizabeth sat up, breathing hard, terrified tears in her eyes. She struggled to her feet and lurched out of the tent and into the cold night air, and nearly into Alistair’s arms. She shrugged him off and walked unsteadily – her body was still weak from sleep – in the direction of the forest.

Alistair caught up with her easily. “Hey, it’s okay, just… Wait for a moment, all right?”

“Not here,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “Too many people.”

“All right.” He followed her behind a tree, where she sat, sliding down the rough trunk with an immense sigh. He sat beside her. “Nightmares, huh?”

“I dreamed of… an immense and evil dragon. It’s… searching for me.”

He nodded. “That’s the archdemon.”

“Is that the way of sensing darkspawn?” she asked.

“It’s part of it, though that’s not how it’s used everyday. But yes, that’s how we knew it was a real Blight. I… um, I’m sorry I didn’t warn you of it before. I had terrible nightmares when I was made Warden. I think everyone does. I put it out of my head afterwards. I didn’t want to remember them.”

“So they go away?” Elizabeth asked hopefully.

“Yes, they do, after a few months.” His face brightened comfortingly, and then fell again. “Except…”

“Except…?”

He grimaced and looked away from her. “A Warden’s life… is short. It’s poison that we took, after all… and eventually, every Warden is driven to seek out the darkspawn and die in battle. They… go crazy if they don’t. Actually, I can’t think of anyone resisting the urge… they all go eventually, even if they don’t want to. Most go to the Deep Roads.” His voice got very quiet. “You start having nightmares again when it’s time. Duncan… Duncan told me recently he’d been having them.”

“Mm.” She didn’t speak for a while, as Alistair was clearly having a moment. But she had questions that desperately needed answering. “How long is this life?”

“I think… about thirty years after your Joining.”

“Thirty!?”

“That’s a long time, isn’t it!?”

“No! It is not!” she cried. “My… my mother was only about fifty; she would have lived far longer if not for-! My father was almost sixty! I may not know what I want from life, but I wanted to have a long life, I wanted… I wanted a family of my own…” She knew she was being petulant about things she could not change. “Not to die in a dark hole because of monsters, with my life half unlived!”

“I’m really sorry,” Alistair said again. “Really really sorry. Er… if it helps… It’s what I’m going to be doing too…”

“That does not help in the slightest,” she said bitterly. “Do you have any more wonderful surprises about my new condition?”

“Um. Not that I can think of.”

“Then leave me alone.” She shoved him away and he fell over.

“Ow.”

She got up and walked further into the forest.

“Don’t go too far,” he called anxiously.

“Leave me alone, Alistair,” she repeated, and kept going.

When she could no longer see the fire of camp, she stopped and sat down heavily against another tree. In front of her, the forest was nearly black. She knew it was not safe to be this far alone, but she was too tired to care.

Her body ached all over, arms, legs, feet, back. Since she had left Highever, she had only had a couple days in which she had not marched nearly the whole day – and on many of those days, she had had to fight as well. Her easy past life as a pampered noblewoman had not adequately prepared her for the life of a soldier.

“This is my fate,” she muttered. “I cannot complain.” It would ill befit the leader to complain of such small problems, and… she was too proud for that.

There came a glow from behind her, and she turned to see a speck of lantern light meandering through the forest towards her. Leliana held the lantern, and soon found her, and sat cross-legged beside her with a friendly smile.

“I hope you don’t mind me being here, Elizabeth,” she said with her gentle lilting accent. “I don’t want you to be out here alone, even if you don’t want to talk to me.”

“Mm,” Elizabeth said. “Thank you.” She liked Alistair, she really did, with his light sarcasm and the shy, doofy smile she had seen sometimes creeping over his face, but he was also a reminder of why she was here and what she had to do. Leliana seemed less threatening, and was certainly more open and sweet than Morrigan.

“But if you did want to talk to me, I’d be happy to listen,” Leliana said, reinforcing Elizabeth’s observation.

“We could get to know each other a bit better,” Elizabeth agreed. “I don’t know if it was mentioned, but my father was Teyrn Cousland…”

Somehow, it all came out – how she was alone, with all her family dead and her home captured and everything she had ever known changed forever, how she did not feel prepared to lead their little group on their mission so vital to the fate of Ferelden, even that she was afraid of what lay ahead, and of the archdemon. And, also, how she disliked being cold and sore and hungry, but how she hated to say so – especially in front of Sten, now, who would surely judge her even more poorly than he already did, should he learn she felt these things as keenly as she did.

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said at last. “I… should not have told you these things, Sister Leliana.”

Leliana shook her head. “Everyone needs to let out their emotions now and then. I am happy to listen, if it helps you. And… I am not really a Sister. I was only a Lay Sister. I took no vows… Just call me Leliana, if you please.”

“Very well, Leliana,” Elizabeth said. “And what is your story? How did you come to be with us?”

Leliana’s eyes clouded over. “It is a long tale and one I am not ready to tell yet… But I can tell you other things of myself. My mother was Fereldan, from Denerim, but she worked for Lady Cecilie of Orlais. When the Rebellion threw out the Orlesians, my mother went with Lady Cecilie to Orlais, so I was born and grew up there. Lady Cecilie was a very kind woman, and I had a happy childhood. My mother told me many stories of Ferelden, though, and I came to love this country very much as well. I think she missed it, and… in my heart, this must be my homeland. Eventually, though, I learned the lute and to sing, and to dance, at first to entertain Lady Cecilie, but I left my home and became a traveling minstrel.” Her eyes sparkled in the lantern’s light. “I do love a good tale. Perhaps I can record our journeys in song!”

“Would you tell me some of your stories sometime?” Elizabeth asked.

“With pleasure! But at the moment I am telling you my own story, no?”

“Yes, indeed, please continue.”

“Well… you seemed surprised by how well I could fight. But one picks up many skills as one travels, no? While many loved me and rewarded me with applause and coin, some desired… other things, or to take what I had earned, and so I learned to defend myself.”

Elizabeth nodded. “I understand. …Is your mother still in Orlais?”

Leliana glanced away briefly. “My mother, too, died. But when I was very young, and of sickness, not like your poor mother. It is a little unfair, I think, that I have more memories of Lady Cecilie than my real mother…” She turned back to Elizabeth with another smile. “But I will grant you, I understand missing the comforts of home. I… you will laugh, perhaps, but I miss the fine things I had. Especially when I was living in Val Royeaux, the capital. Oh, the dresses I had, and the furs! And the shoes! I love shoes dearly. You may know that Orlais is… ridiculously fashionable, and I agree it was sometimes a bit silly, but it was worth putting up with the trends for the darling shoes. Sometimes a girl just wants to have pretty feet, you know. It is a thing I don’t think Fereldans quite understand.”

“I can’t say I understand entirely, as you say,” Elizabeth said, venturing to smile. “I like my boots; they are comfortable and I think they look well. The fine shoes I had to wear for formal occasions may have been pretty, but they hurt my feet.”

“Ah, they were not fitted properly,” Leliana said. “Sometime, perhaps if we ever go to Denerim, I shall take you shopping for shoes and we shall get you something lovely and comfortable.”

“Very well,” Elizabeth said. “I will not say no.”

“You won’t regret it,” Leliana promised. “Now, perhaps you should come back to camp and try to sleep again, yes? I will help you with your nightmares if you like. And… I think your friend Alistair means well, please don’t be too hard on him.”

“I know he means well,” Elizabeth said. “I just… wish things were otherwise.” She stood, and Leliana stood. “Thank you, Leliana.” And Elizabeth leaned forward and hugged the other woman.

Leliana chuckled. “You are most welcome, Elizabeth.”

 

It took them four more days to reach Redcliffe. Leliana was unflaggingly cheerful, Sten spoke little, if at all, and Morrigan and Alistair bickered sporadically – all was normal in their group. Bodhan Feddic and his son trailed behind them.

Redcliffe Castle lay at the end of Gherlen’s Pass, a narrow valley leading into the Frostback Mountains and the main land route into Ferelden.. It had always been Ferelden’s first and main line of defense, and it was difficult to conquer the rest of the country while Redcliffe still remained on guard. The fortress had a reputation for being unassailable, yet it had been captured three times in known history – once by the legendary King Calenhad, for whom the massive neighbouring lake was named, once by the Orlesians at the beginning of their recent occupation, and recaptured by Eamon Guerrin himself, the current Arl of Redcliffe. This much Elizabeth could recite from Brother Aldous’s patient tutoring. But she had never been there, and only met Teagan Guerrin, Arl Eamon’s younger brother, once in Denerim when she was younger. She was uncertain whether she should be excited or nervous about their current journey.

The road followed the edge of the lake with the water on their right. Ahead, on the morning of the fifth day after Lothering, a red hill rose from the lake with a formidable fortress at its crest. It could only be reached by a narrow bridge from the mainland. Below them lay the fishing town of Redcliffe Village; Redcliffe was no trading centre, and while it was an important, well-manned arling, it was not a rich one and had no castle town or city.

When they caught sight of the castle, Alistair began to lag behind, even behind the dwarves.

Elizabeth dropped back to talk to him. “Are you all right?”

“Hm? Oh, yes… everything’s fine.”

“Is it Duncan? Do you want to talk?”

He shrugged and hooked his thumbs in his belt. “You don’t have to do that. I know you didn’t know him very long. And… I should have handled his loss better. He warned me that… that he might not be around much longer. Any of us could die in battle, really… I shouldn’t have been out of it so much, not with so much riding on us, not with the Blight and… I shouldn’t have lost it.”

“It’s quite all right,” she said. “I have needed time to grieve and so do you.”

“Well, I am sorry for not being more help to you.”

“You’ve been tremendous help,” she said.

“After I forced you to take leadership…”

“Would you like it back?” she offered, a half-smile on her lips.

“Er… no. Um. Haha.” He laughed awkwardly, then sobered. “Well, about Duncan… when this is all over, I’d like to have a proper funeral for him. I don’t think he had any family. Well, outside of the Grey Wardens, that is. …If we’re still alive.”

“We will live,” she said, with more conviction than she felt. “We are a powerful group already. If we can just work together…”

“You’re right,” he said. “We can do this.”

They walked in companionable silence for a moment, and then he spoke up again. “But… there’s something else bothering me… something I have to tell you. Something I really should have told you earlier.” His voice was slowing down even for his usual drawl.

“Hmm?”

“I… well, I told you that Arl Eamon raised me, right?”

“Yes, I recall that.”

“Well, you see… he took me in because… um. My father was King Maric.”

Elizabeth looked at him in surprise. “Indeed?”

“Yes. I think my mother was a maid at the castle… So that made Cailan… my half-brother, I suppose.” He paused, and then that shy smile crept over his face. “So I guess that makes me not just a bastard, but a royal bastard.”

Elizabeth chuckled, but her eyes were still round in surprise. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

“I’m sorry, I really should have, I know. I don’t like to talk about it, I mean, for one thing, I was an inconvenience, a threat to Cailan’s rule, so everyone who knew treated it as a deep dark secret. It doesn’t mean anything to me, honestly, and I was hoping… you’d just treat me as myself. Though… I’ve been kind of blowing it since we met, haven’t I?”

“It’s fine,” she assured him. “I haven’t been very kind to you, I know.”

“You’ve been going through some difficult things…”

“And so have you, so don’t think that excuses my behaviour.”

He shrugged. “Anyway, it’s important that you know now, because… Arl Eamon knows, and with Cailan… gone, he’ll probably try to put me on the throne in his place.”

“Ah,” Elizabeth said. “I am prepared. More or less, I suppose.”

“Well, that and… see, the arlessa, Isolde, didn’t really like me. She was one of the people who didn’t know, and so she thought I was Eamon’s bastard. So she was rather mean to me until I was packed off to the chantry.”

“What will she do now, then?”

“I don’t know,” Alistair said thoughtfully. “It’s been ten or eleven years. Part of me wants to think she will scream and faint, but… the other part of me says that’s childish. Anyway, if anyone deserves the throne, it’s Arl Eamon himself. He’s not of the Theirin line, but he is Cailan’s uncle, and more importantly, he’s popular with the people.”

“So you don’t wish for the throne yourself?”

“Maker, no! I never expected or wanted it. I’m a Grey Warden now, and I’m happy where I am for… the first time in my life, probably. Anyone who ever knew I was Maric’s bastard either resented me for it, or coddled me. I think even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of that.” He sighed. “But… you’re not going to treat me differently, are you?”

“No,” Elizabeth said. “If we were not both Wardens, I would rank nearly as high as you, anyhow.”

“Yes, but you’re so formal and proper. I couldn’t stand it if you started calling me ‘Your Highness’ or some nonsense like that. Just please keep thinking of me as your brother-in-arms, and I’ll be fine.”

“Very well,” Elizabeth said. “It’s Arl Eamon you’ll have to contend with over it, anyway.”

“I know. Well, let’s… catch up to the others! We’re quite a ways behind, aren’t we? My fault. I’m sorry.”

“You apologize a lot,” she commented.

“Bad habit,” he said with another smile. “Used to being around grumpy people who don’t take kindly to my wit.”

“Is there anything else I should be informed of, then?” she asked. “About Grey Wardens, about you, about the world in general…?”

“Er… other than the fact that I adore cheese and my slight obsession with my hair, I can’t think of anything about myself,” he said, and ran a hand through the light brown spikes that stuck out over his forehead.

“So that’s why it’s like that,” she murmured to herself.

“If you spent more time fussing with your brain and less time fussing with your hair, you might actually have amounted to something by now,” Morrigan said.

“Oh, and you’ve never spent any time fussing with your hair,” Alistair retorted, and Elizabeth caught a slight flush on Morrigan’s face. The witch’s hair was usually piled up into an artfully messy bun, but her black hair was smooth and shining for all that it seemed to take her a few moments to fix it each morning.

Morrigan snapped something back, and Elizabeth strode to the head of the party, to be closer to Huan and Leliana and farther away from their quarreling.

It was not long before they saw people heading towards them; they looked haggard and frightened.

“Don’t go into the village!” they cried to the group. “Don’t go to the castle! Flee for your lives!”

“That’s just what we’ve already been doing,” Alistair complained. “What’s the matter?”

One of them looked around nervously and lowered his voice. “The village has been attacked these three nights by monsters from the castle. We won’t be able to hold out another night!”

“What kind of monsters?” Elizabeth asked sharply. “Surely the darkspawn have not reached this place yet?”

“No,” the man said, shaking his head vigourously. “The… undead, we think. We’re not sure. We just want to get out of here!”

“Is there anyone in charge down in the village?”

“Bann Teagan is in the chantry, attempting to organize a defense. Good luck to you!”

“Hold!” Elizabeth said sternly. “I know Bann Teagan is a good man and a good leader, and you would abandon him?”

“You don’t know the terror that comes at night!” wailed a woman in the group, and with that, they all fled up the road past the companions.

“Oh dear,” said Bodhan Feddic. “Perhaps we should go elsewhere?”

“Undead?” asked Leliana. “That is most troubling… Do you think it’s something in the water?”

“I must see Bann Teagan immediately,” Elizabeth said. “Let us go to the village.”

“Ooh! A windmill,” Leliana said, and pointed. “I once took a ride on the sails of a windmill. Didn’t turn out well.”

“No? It sounds like fun,” Elizabeth said, though she forebore to ask why Leliana would do such a thing. She had a suspicion it was something daring and adventurous and far more dangerous than Leliana appeared capable of.

“No, indeed… falling is less fun.”

The road to the village was steep, and the closer they came to the water level, the more hopeless the atmosphere became. There were barricades, some of them looking as if they had been broken with great force, and a few men practicing their archery in the yard of the chantry, and a few knights standing or sitting on the chantry porch with weary expressions.

A sturdy man with a great black beard saw them and hailed them. “Travelers, eh? What are you doing here?”

“We’ve come to help,” Elizabeth said, though Morrigan snorted. “We don’t know what’s wrong but I was told Bann Teagan was here.”

“Aye. I am Murdock, the mayor of this poor village.”

“I am Elizabeth, of the Grey Wardens,” said she.

“I hear they’re wanted for the murder of King Cailan,” said the mayor, with a sharp glance.

“Absolutely not!” Alistair cried. “We’ve been framed by Teyrn Loghain!”

“If you are worried for Bann Teagan’s safety, do not fear,” Elizabeth said. “I met him once in Denerim. I only wish to help.”

“Very well, on with you then. At least you have swords, you’ll be some help against the skeletons. Tomas! Take them to the Bann.”

“Yes, ser!” A young man ran up. “This way, sers and ladies!” Bodhan Feddic stayed behind to find a place for his cart.

The chantry was not large, but it was sturdily built of stone, and as they entered it, Elizabeth saw the pews had been moved, ready to barricade the door. It seemed all the women and children of the village were there, huddled in small groups, some of them weeping, some of them silent and pale.

Bann Teagan was at the back of the church, conferring with a knight and the Revered Mother over a map. He was rather young, in his early thirties, and had a roguish smile when he chose to, Elizabeth remembered, and looked like he could be a strong warrior. He looked up when the companions drew near.

“Yes, Tomas? Who are these people?”

Elizabeth stepped forward. “Bann Teagan, it has been a while since we last met. I don’t suppose you would remember me…”

For a moment he frowned, searching her face. “Lady Elizabeth? Elizabeth Cousland!? You live!” And he smiled.

“For now,” she said. “I have joined the Grey Wardens and am no longer truly a Cousland.”

“I see. But you are lovelier than ever, my lady. And Alistair! I remember you! Well met, both of you.” He clasped both their hands in greeting. “What brings you here?”

“It’s a long story,” Alistair said. “We were hoping to ask Arl Eamon for advice, but… what in the world is happening?”

Teagan sighed. “We’re not rightly sure either. I heard of the defeat at Ostagar in my home of Rainesfere, and came to ask my brother for advice myself, as I do not trust the word from Teyrn Loghain on the events there. I have yet to confront the Teyrn myself, but… I intend to.”

“Good,” Alistair said. “Can I come?”

“Of course!” Teagan said. “But when I arrived here two days ago, the village was in shock and the castle inaccessible. I have done what I can to shore up defenses, but I fear a greater attack than any before will come tonight.”

“Our services are yours,” Elizabeth said. “We… really need to speak to the Arl.”

Teagan brightened. “That is wonderful news. You look like a competent bunch, and I know Alistair has had Templar training, and I know you, Lady Elizabeth, have a keen interest in swordfighting, so with the remaining Redcliffe knights, we might just stand a chance.”

“The remaining knights?” Elizabeth asked. “What do you mean?”

The knight beside Teagan bowed. “If I might be so bold, my lady… I am Ser Perth, the captain of the Redcliffe garrison. Arl Eamon fell ill a short while ago, right before the Battle of Ostagar. So ill, in fact, that it was said the only thing that could save him was the Sacred Ashes of Our Lady Andraste. The Arlessa, desperate to save her husband, sent out most of the knights to seek the Sacred Ashes… and none have returned since.” The knight tried to appear hopeful. “But it’s only been two weeks, and the Ashes have been lost for centuries, so we are trying to have patience.”

“Seems a fool’s errand,” Morrigan commented. “Why send out knights? Do they have the brains required to find mystic artifacts which may or may not exist?”

“Do you not know?” Leliana asked, her eyes lighting up at the thought. “Knights do such brave deeds all the time in tales and song!”

“This is no tale nor song,” Morrigan said. “Instead, the most useful fighters are gone in a situation where fighters are exactly what you need.”

“Be it as it may,” Teagan said, showing no sign of annoyance at Morrigan’s interruption, “we must make do with what we have. I will show you around our defenses after I finish discussing them with Ser Perth and Mother Hannah. I would look forward to hearing your input.”

Elizabeth bowed and turned to leave the chantry. Outwardly she was composed, but inwardly she was aflutter at the idea that Teagan Guerrin wanted her opinion on the defense.

Outside she met Bodhan Feddic. “I believe this chantry will be a safe place for you if you have no wish to fight.”

“No indeed,” Feddic said. “I’m not very good at it, and it’s only a last resort. Me and my boy will stay here for now.”

“Sten, Leliana,” she went on, “take a look around the village and let me know if you find anything of interest. I will look around myself later but for now I must wait for Bann Teagan.”

“Right away,” Leliana said cheerfully. “Come on, Sten!” Sten followed her silently.

Huan stretched himself in the weak sun and panted. Elizabeth sat beside him, relishing the opportunity to rest her feet.

“I hope we get the chance to rest a bit before night,” Alistair said, and yawned before sitting beside her. Morrigan remained standing, frowning at the fishermen practicing their archery.

Elizabeth, though resting, stared up at the cliffside above them. “If they come from the castle, they will have the high ground the entire way down, unless we can stall them at the end of the bridge.”

“Yes?” Alistair mumbled, lying back and putting an arm over his eyes.

She poked him. “I’m trying to come up with things to suggest to Teagan, though he’s probably already thought of them all. Do pay attention.”

“But it’s hard,” he whined. “Just point me in the direction of these undead and I’ll kill all the ones I can.”

“That’s how I would like to think,” Elizabeth said, “but that is not good enough for planning a battle. Do you suppose that is how my grandfather defeated Tarleton Howe at Harper’s Ford, by charging into battle blindly?”

“I guess not…”

“Don’t mind him,” Morrigan said lightly. “Ignorance is bliss, after all.”

“That’s what the Templars used to tell me, anyway,” he grumbled, opening one eye and peering up at her.

“Oh, that’s right,” Elizabeth said. “You forgot to mention that, too.”

“Did I?” He sat up again, shamefaced. “I completely forgot, honestly. I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “Do you know much of a Templar’s magic-cancelling abilites?”

“Some. I had almost completed my training when Duncan recruited me. Some of them were happy to see me go, as I… caused a lot of trouble.”

“That is hardly surprising,” Morrigan commented.

“The Revered Mother, though, she was furious. I think she knew about the ‘Maric’s son’ thing and wanted to keep me under her thumb. I almost though she’d have an apoplectic fit when Duncan took me away.” He chuckled. “Hope she did, the old bat.”

“So if we encountered mages fighting us, you wouldn’t mind using your abilities, would you?”

“No, not at all. That’s a good idea in fact. But Morrigan had better watch out she’s not standing too close to me when I do, or I might ‘accidentally’ cancel her spells too.”

“As if I’d stand too close to you,” Morrigan huffed.

The heavy wooden double doors opened, and Bann Teagan appeared. “Lady Elizabeth?”

“Here,” she said, climbing to her feet. “I sent two of my group to look around the village. Is that all right?”

“Lady Elizabeth, you are in charge of your own affairs, and I shall not interfere in anything you do to help us. Now, let’s have a look around, shall we?”

The village’s defenses were pitifully few and shabby. “I know it’s not much,” Teagan said, “but I’m hoping if we can survive this night, that I will be able to head into the castle tomorrow and deal with whatever I find there.”

“The monsters come from the castle itself, yes?”

“Yes, they come across the bridge. I will be dividing the forces here into two groups. Ser Perth and his knights and I shall defend the end of the bridge as long as we can, while the militia will defend the chantry yard should they get past us – or should they come from another direction.”

“Then I will do the same,” Elizabeth said. “Leliana and Huan will stay with the militia, and Alistair, Morrigan, Sten, and I shall fight with you.”

“If I may be so bold, my lady, you should stay with the militia. You may claim you are no longer a Cousland because you are a Grey Warden, but Ferelden will not see it that way…” He wanted to say something else, she could tell, and was holding back from politeness. She decided to say it for him.

“Lord Teagan, I am a warrior first now. I will not hide behind my companion’s swords when my own sword can help them. I have been well-trained, and while I still feel myself lacking in experience, I am not without strength and courage. Just because I am the daughter of a teyrn, even were I not a Grey Warden, does not mean I cannot or should not fight.”

Teagan looked taken aback. “I apologize, my lady. You are very perceptive, and I am justly chastised. You may fight where you will, and I will trust your judgement.”

She smiled. “Thank you, my lord.”

“Please, let us not stand on formality. Call me Teagan.”

“Then you must call me Elizabeth.” Elizabeth could feel Morrigan’s eyes rolling in an exaggerated fashion without even turning to look at her.

Leliana and Sten had returned. “There are a number of barrels of lamp oil in the abandoned general store,” Leliana said. “Might it not slow down the undead to set them on fire?”

“I also recruited a few to our cause,” Sten said.

“Don’t worry, he didn’t hurt anyone,” Leliana added, with a peculiar gleeful smile that Elizabeth couldn’t interpret.

“I like the oil idea,” Teagan said to Leliana. “Let me consult with Ser Perth on how to deal with this. In the meantime, there are a few things I could use your help with,” he said to Elizabeth. “There are a few in the village who need… persuading. They will not listen to me, but perhaps they will listen to you.”

“What do you need?” Elizabeth asked.

“Dwyn is a dwarf mercenary with several companions, but they have all holed up in his house just off the main square.” Teagan pointed. “If you could convince him to come out and fight alongside us, it could go a long way towards survival, both his and ours. The other who needs persuading is Owen, the blacksmith. We need his skills to mend and improve armour and arms for the militia, but his daughter is still in the castle and the old fool has sunk into a drunken stupor.”

“I will see what I can do,” Elizabeth said. “Is there anything else?”

Teagan shrugged. “If you think of anything, let me know – otherwise, get your rest. The undead will attack at nightfall.”

Elizabeth bowed to him, and he to her, and she told the others to find a place to rest before setting off towards Dwyn’s house. Alistair refused to rest yet and came with her.

It turned out all Dwyn needed was the jingle of coin to attract him, or so Elizabeth thought – until she returned to Teagan to ask for the money and discovered he had tried the same thing. “He wants a pretty face to persuade him, I think,” Teagan said with a half-smile. Elizabeth shrugged and returned to Dwyn with the money.

Owen was harder to reason with. She spent a good five minutes pleading through the smithy’s keyhole before he eventually opened the door and let Alistair and her inside.

The alcohol fumes nearly made her choke; she had never been inside a place that smelled so thickly before.

“Somebody’s been drinking,” Alistair said in a sing-song voice. “Will he really be any help in this state?”

“Ser?” she said.

An old man was standing near the forge in the centre of the room, his back to them. “Whaddya want? I’m not doing anything for ye, you unnerstand that, right?”

“Why is that?” Elizabeth asked. “The village desperately needs your help.”

“Why should I do anything for Murdock, when ‘e won’t do anything for me?” The old man lurched around towards them. “My girl, Valena, she’s one of the ar… ar… arlessa’s maids up at the castle, but, that man won’t send anyone to find her and get her out! She’s been my life since my wife passed on two years ago! Now she’s dead… or… or soon to be… Why should I care what ‘appens to me, or the village, or anyone?”

“I am going to the castle tomorrow,” Elizabeth said soothingly. “I will search for your daughter.”

“Tomorrow!? Why not today?”

She didn’t really know, that was a good point. “Bann Teagan thinks that it will be safer and easier tomorrow, if we can hold out tonight.”

“You don’t really care… you’re just trying to twist me into ‘elping.” Owen hiccuped, his face creased in lines of grief. “Murdock said ‘e’d do ‘is best, and what has that got done? Nothing!”

She stepped closer and took the smith’s hand. “Ser… my father has a daughter, and I know he would worry over me greatly just as you do over Valena. I promise I will find her, no matter what happens.”

Owen stared at her for a while. “You’d really do that? You really promise?”

“I promise, ser,” she said.

Owen nodded for a few minutes. “Right then. I’d better get the forge warmed up. Tell that fool Murdock to send some men over for gear as soon as he can.”

“Thank you, ser.”

“Thank me by finding my daughter. That’s all I ask.”

She nodded and left, Alistair close behind her.

“That was sweet,” he said.

“What was?”

“The part about fathers and daughters.”

“That was… the entire conversation,” she said.

“I know, but just… it was sweet.”

“That’s nice,” she said kindly. “Let’s sleep before night comes.”

 

Night came all too swiftly, and it was not long before Elizabeth was shaken awake where she curled in a corner of the chantry cushioned on Huan, by Morrigan.

“No dreams at this time, I hope?” Morrigan asked with a sardonic smile.

“N-no, I don’t think so,” Elizabeth said blearily. She dimly recalled a feeling of unease, but it was certainly not a full-blown nightmare like before. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and climbed to her feet. “Is it nearly time?” Huan stood and shook himself vigorously before yawning.

“The lordling thinks there is a little time yet,” Morrigan said. “Perhaps time to get something to eat, and move your cramped limbs.”

“Thank you, Morrigan,” Elizabeth said, and fumbled in her pouch for some of her dried rations.

Still chewing, she went outside to find Teagan.

Teagan was placing the militiamen around the chantry yard. “Ah, Elizabeth, good to see you. Are your people ready to go?”

“Almost,” she said, though she could see Sten and Alistair were ready, and Morrigan was certainly ready. She looked around, trying to find Leliana, and found the young woman sitting on the edge of the chantry’s roof, testing her bow.

Elizabeth knelt beside Huan. “Now you’re going to stay here with Leliana, all right? Defend her, and defend these people. I’m going to go up ahead, but I’ll be back soon, hopefully.”

He whined sadly.

“I will be all right, I promise. I have strong comrades. That’s why I trust you to stay here and keep an eye on things, all right?”

He gave a yip and licked her face. She smiled involuntarily and got up to head over to Teagan. “I think we are ready now.”

“Good! We should take our places before it begins.”

“’It’?”

“When the monsters begin their attack, a strange green glow rises from the castle.” Teagan took a lantern and led the way up the steep winding road to the top of the cliff. “Dozens of them rush from the castle. Not too many, perhaps, but with the knights scattered, and Eamon’s army spread across his realm preparing for the darkspawn… maybe too many for us alone.”

He was wearing heavy chainmail, and carried both a bow on his back and a sword at his side. But in the dark, his hair, and his shoulders, his demeanour were so like to…

She inhaled a little sharply at the association. Teagan heard and turned back to her. “Are you all right?”

“I am fine,” she said. “It’s only that… in the dark like this, you remind me so very much of… my brother.”

“Yes… my sympathies. I hear he was among the casualties of Ostagar…”

“I do not know for certain if he died in the battle or not,” Elizabeth said. “But I have little hope of finding him alive now.”

“Keep some hope,” Teagan advised her. “Fergus Cousland is a worthy man. If you do not know for certain that he is dead, I think he may return to you yet.”

“You didn’t see the armies of darkspawn,” she said in a low voice. “I barely saw them myself. But if he is alive… No, my fear for him would be too great.”

“Hope is painful,” Teagan acknowledged. “Especially after the great loss you’ve suffered already. And speaking of which, if you require help against Arl Howe, let me know and I shall aid you with all I can. I never liked him anyway.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“That’s assuming we defeat these undead,” Morrigan said sharply. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves with all these noble little alliances and polite niceties.”

“Yes, indeed,” Teagan said, chuckling. “Here is our barricade; the oil has been poured over the ground ahead, so watch your step. I will light it up when the time is right.”

“I think the time is right,” Alistair said, his voice wavering. “That would be really interesting, if it weren’t Redcliffe!” Alistair was right. The courtyard of Redcliffe Castle was lit up by a brilliant, poisonous green glow, and Elizabeth could hear inhuman noises – howls and the scrape of things along stone – and she began to see movement at the mouth of the castle.

“Brace yourselves,” Ser Perth advised them, his great two-handed sword at the ready.

Elizabeth’s eyes opened wide. There were figures, shrieking figures rushing towards them along the long bridge of the castle. Beside her, Teagan, steady as a rock, drew the bow from his shoulder, ignited a specially-prepared arrow at his lantern, and fired at the ground just ahead of the skeletal shapes.

Instantly, a blaze of fire whooshed up, and the front ranks of skeletons were engulfed.

They kept coming, but there was a crack from near Elizabeth and Morrigan sent a bolt of lightning playing over them as the glow of a magic sigil appeared in the ground under them. Three or four of the skeletons dropped instantly, and a few of the others staggered.

Teagan fired a few more arrows, unerringly striking skulls backlit by the fire. “Let’s take out as many as we can before they get to us!”

But there would be plenty to go around when they reached the barricade, Elizabeth realized. She took a firmer grip on her sword.

With a rush, the undead were upon them. Teagan reslung his bow on his back and whipped out his sword and shield. Elizabeth slammed her shield into one’s face and followed with a skull-cracking blow of her sword, and drew back her strike with a gasp. Another skeleton had stabbed at her while she was attacking the first one, and its rusted sword had cut through her armoured glove at a seam in the plates; now it felt like a line of fire was carved on the back of her hand.

Alistair decapitated that one. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said, slightly annoyed that this was the most common question she was asked these days. “I can still fight.”

The skeletons marched on, a baleful light in their eyes, their jaws gaping open as their unearthly howl echoed around the cliffs of the lake edge. The horror of it was affecting her, but still she raised her sword, almost on instinct.

The fire was beginning to die down as she deflected another sword, and then dodged a spear. Elizabeth heard Morrigan yelp, and then another lightning bolt played out over the skeletons.

“More oil!” Teagan cried, and Ser Perth and another knight began to lift a barrel over the barricade to heave it onto the fire.

Sten stopped them. “Give that to me.” Single-handedly, the giant lifted the barrel over his shoulder, and then hurled it onto the fire, which blazed up again more furiously than ever. Skeletons collapsed under the force of the heat, and more than a few had been knocked apart by the barrel itself.

The barricade was beginning to fail; it shuddered and shook increasingly flimsily under the blows of the undead. But Elizabeth could see the skeletons beginning to thin in their charge from the castle, though the castle itself had not lost its green glow.

A spear jabbed through the lower part of the barricade and struck Alistair in the leg, and he gasped and fell to one knee, holding his shield above his head. Three skeletons lunged at him, and Elizabeth frantically battered them back.

“I’m all right!” Alistair assured them, climbing carefully to his feet. “Just a scratch!”

The skeletons were beginning to slow their assault, just as she had expected. She was just thinking they would be able to successfully hold out when Elizabeth heard enraged barking from the village below. “Huan!”

“The village is under assault,” Sten’s calm voice reported. “It seems some skeletons also crossed the lakebed to attack from the shore.”

“Just a little longer up here and then we can go to them,” Teagan said. “They have a few strong fighters… they’ll have to hold on a moment.”

Elizabeth looked around. They could spare a couple fighters, by her estimation. “Sten, Morrigan, can you go down right away?” she said. “We have things up here for now.”

“As you say,” Sten said, crushing the skull of one skeleton with his maul before marching back down the cliff. Morrigan was ahead of him, bounding lightly down the trail to the circle of light in the centre of the village where shouts and screams and the clash of weapons now rose to their ears.

The skeletons kept up the pressure, so much so that when the last one had fallen, Elizabeth nearly fell forward from the lack of resistance.

“Now back!” Teagan cried. “Back to the village with all speed!”

Running down the trail was a lot easier than climbing up it, though Elizabeth sacrificed a little bit of speed to make sure she didn’t trip on a rock and land flat on her face.

As they burst into the ring of light, charging into the skeletons from the flank and the back, Elizabeth heard a petrified scream right ahead of her. A boy, perhaps a couple years younger than her, had been knocked down and a skeleton was looming over him, blade poised to strike. Elizabeth smashed the skeleton to one side and took up a position in front of the boy. “Get up! And get behind me!” He wibbled and she knew he was on the verge of bolting. “Get behind me and stay there!” If he was there, she could look after him and he could watch her flanks. If he ran, she couldn’t protect him and he would probably get himself killed in his current state of panic.

The skeleton she had knocked aside had righted itself and lashed out while she was yelling at the boy. She gasped as she felt a flash of pain across her left cheek and brought her shield back into position before counterattacking. The skeleton blocked her blow with inhuman strength, but she flipped her sword under its guard and stabbed into its ribcage, shattering its spine.

There were not so many skeletons down here; they had not expected an organized defense, it seemed. As dawn’s grey light slowly lightened the east, they faded away into dust. The boy hiding behind Elizabeth mumbled a heart-felt thanks and scampered for the chantry.

“How is this possible?” Elizabeth asked Morrigan, wearily sitting on the edge of the porch. “How does a skeleton walk?”

“You ask me?” Morrigan said, raising an eyebrow. “You do not think I have done such a thing, do you?”

“I do not know how great your power is,” Elizabeth said. “But I know little of magic, and you know much. They are… they are not alive, but I don’t understand…”

“It is not possible to raise the dead to life,” Morrigan said, more gently than Elizabeth had expected. “But,” she went on more briskly, “It is possible that spirits from the Fade sometimes cross the Veil into this world; many come of their own desire to experience the world of men, and some are commanded by foolish mages. And when they come, it may come to pass that they bind themselves to… things. The ones who bind themselves to people, mostly mages who are most vulnerable to them, become abominations of great power and it would be a good thing if you kept your distance from those.”

She looked up at the sky, thinking. “Some really unlucky, weak, or stupid ones can bind themselves to trees or other inanimate things, and while they are not powerless, they are considerably less threatening than abominations or the third option, which is for them to bind themselves to animals or dead people. They cannot tell the difference between a living body and a dead one, even a long dead one… A corpse possessed by a lesser demon has little intelligence, but they are usually filled with great rage and a desire to destroy. And the ones possessed by the strongest demons are known as revenants, and should be avoided as much as abominations, for they have also great cunning.”

Elizabeth digested this. “Thank you. That was very informative.”

“It is a rough summary,” Morrigan dismissed it. “You will need to know these things as a Grey Warden. I cannot hold your hand forever.” Her smile was mocking, but Elizabeth’s was genuine.

“So where did all these skeletons come from?” Leliana asked wonderingly.

“Oh, that’s easy,” Alistair said. “Redcliffe Castle is vital to the defense of Ferelden, so many battles have been fought here. It stands to reason there are a few skeletons here and there.”

“What a droll understatement,” Leliana said drily. “Oh! You are injured. Let me have a look at that.” She went to Elizabeth with bandages and began to inspect her face and hand. Elizabeth had almost forgotten about her injuries, sustained hours ago, but now that Leliana mentioned it, they began to throb again.

“I’ve been injured too,” Alistair said plaintively, stretching out his leg.

“Get in line,” Leliana said with good humour.

Bann Teagan had ascended the chantry steps. “Well done, my friends!” he cried. “Dawn arrives, and we have survived the night. We are victorious!” The tired villagers cheered, and those inside the chantry cheered, opening the heavy door and peeking around it. “And it would never have been possible were it not for the heroism of the good folk who joined us at the eleventh hour!” He gestured to Elizabeth, who quickly put on her ‘gracious’ face and bowed her head to him. Morrigan rolled her eyes, and Alistair and Leliana grinned shyly. Huan barked and wagged his tail so enthusiastically he almost knocked Leliana over.

“I thank you, dear lady,” Teagan said more personally to Elizabeth. “The Maker truly smiled on us when he sent you here in our darkest hour.” He turned back to the crowd assembled in front of the chantry. “With the Maker’s favour, the defense we have mounted is enough that I may enter the castle and seek your arl. Be wary and watch for signs of renewed attack. I shall return with news as soon as I am able. “

“Be safe, Lord Teagan,” said the Revered Mother of the chantry. Ser Perth began to organize the villagers.

Teagan turned to Elizabeth and her company. “Now we shall go to the castle.”

They hiked up the path to the castle bridge again, and Teagan halted in amazement, for there was a figure running across the bridge – but this one was slender and clad in pale pink and blue. “Lady Isolde!”

“Teagan!” the woman almost sobbed, throwing herself into his arms. “Oh, Teagan, thank the Maker you’re here! It’s horrible…”

Teagan put his hands on Isolde’s shoulders in a steadying gesture. “What is happening in the castle?”

“I… I am not allowed to tell you,” Isolde said wretchedly, her Orlesian accent growing stronger in her distress. “I was only allowed out for a moment, to beg you to come with me… But you alone,” she said, glancing at the others. “If others come with you, it will be… angry.”

“It?” Teagan asked with great concern.

“A terrible evil within the castle. The dead awaken and hunt the living. The mage responsible was caught, but still it continues. Anyone who tries to escape is torn to pieces. I was only allowed out because I promised I would be back immediately. I begged, yes, I begged for Connor’s sake.”

“But you are still all right? What about Connor and Eamon?”

“They are… safe… for now… But I fear for Connor; I think he is going mad! He has seen so much death… I know it must be dangerous, and I know perhaps you do not trust me, all secretive like this, but… Teagan, you must come back with me, I beg you!”

“Yes, yes, of course I shall,” Teagan said, with a glance at Elizabeth. “But just give me a moment to speak with my companions.”

“Who are these people?” Isolde asked tremulously.

“These are Grey Wardens, and… their friends. The lady is Elizabeth Cousland, and I believe you know…”

“Hello, Lady Isolde,” Alistair said awkwardly.

“Hello, Alistair,” she said distractedly.

“Er… this is a bad time for a reunion. Let’s just say I’ll do whatever I can to help you and Arl Eamon.”

Isolde nodded and drew back a pace, and Teagan came to speak in a low voice to Elizabeth. “There is a secret passage into the castle, of course. Would you use it to get inside? I do not know what you shall find there but if I can keep Eamon and his family, my family, alive by my presence, then I will do that, no matter the danger.”

“I understand,” Elizabeth said. “Where can I find this secret passage?”

“It’s in the windmill,” Teagan said, gesturing at it with a flick of his eyes and nothing else. “Take my signet ring; it will allow you entrance.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I will come as swiftly as I may.”

“Be careful,” he said. “Whatever’s inside the castle may have found the other end of the passage – I doubt it, but it is best to be prepared for all eventualities. And I fear that all the survivors inside may be used as hostages. But I would feel much better if I knew you were coming to be my back-up.”

“We will be there,” Elizabeth said. “Do not fear for us.”

“And remember… Eamon is the priority. Isolde, me, even Connor… we’re all expendable. Just get my brother out alive.”

“I’ll get you all out alive,” Elizabeth promised.

He nodded and turned to Isolde. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Isolde gave a fearful glance at Elizabeth and turned to lead Teagan back into the castle at an anxious trot.

Elizabeth turned away and went back down the cliff, not hurrying as long as the bridge was in view. Ser Perth was climbing the hill and they met outside the windmill.

“What’s happened?” Ser Perth asked with confusion. “Where’s Lord Teagan?”

“He has gone to the castle alone with Lady Isolde,” Elizabeth said. “There is some evil inside that… I don’t understand.”

“I think it’s a demon,” commented Morrigan. “As I was telling you earlier.”

“Maker forbid!” exclaimed Alistair and Ser Perth in the same breath.

“It allowed Lady Isolde to ask Teagan to return with her… but Teagan asked that I sneak in using a secret passage into the castle.”

“I see,” Ser Perth said. “What would you like me to do?”

She blinked. “What I want you to do?”

“Lord Teagan has left you in charge, has he not?”

She didn’t recall that being part of the plan. “Then come with us through this passage. Once we’re inside, you may guide me to the courtyard.”

“I follow your command, my lady.”

The passage was through a trapdoor at the bottom of the mill, and then when Elizabeth pressed Teagan’s signet ring to a curious depression in the stone foundations of the mill, she heard a click and a wall shifted slightly. Perth and Sten pushed it back and they continued, after Leliana lit her lantern.

The first part was a cramped, winding stair that seemed to go down an interminable degree. Just when Elizabeth thought her shoulders would cramp if they had to go on any longer, it began to straighten out and the ceiling grew slightly taller. Alistair was grumbling under his breath, and she wondered how hard it was on him, taller and with an injured leg. And Sten was taller still. “Either this is a trap,” said he, “or the defenders of this castle are idiots. I suspect both.” Perth did not answer him.

“I wonder who built this tunnel, and why,” Leliana commented, her voice echoing down the long dark hall. “It’s quite impressive. I believe it must go under the lake!”

“It’s more impressive than the secret passage out of Highever,” Elizabeth agreed. “That one was only cleverly disguised at both ends. This is a lot more than that.”

After another interminable period of moving laterally, they began to climb again, the passage meandering up through the stone until it ended in a false wall of wooden slats.

Everyone was tensely silent as Elizabeth cautiously pushed them aside and stepped out into the dimness of a cellar. She stood a moment and listened, but could hear nothing amiss in the chambers nearby. Gesturing for the others to follow her, she went to the one door in the room and waited for Perth to join her.

The subterranean passages of Redcliffe Castle were a somewhat confusing maze of storage rooms and empty dungeons.

Well, maybe not so empty…

As they clattered through the dark corridors, there was a rustle of cloth, the pale flash of a waving hand, from one of the cells. “E-excuse me…!”

Elizabeth came to a halt. “Who are you and how are you not dead?”

The dark-haired man gave her a melancholy smile. “The undead don’t bother the living unless the living bother them. My name is Jowan…”

“You’re the mage Lord Eamon had on staff,” Ser Perth said accusingly. “You know something about this mess, don’t you!?”

“Isolde said the mage responsible had been caught,” Elizabeth said slowly. “That must be you?”

“More or less,” said the man, sweating lightly. “I mean… I… In a way, yes. But also no.”

“Speak plainer,” Perth growled.

The man hung his head. “I don’t suppose there’s any hiding any of it now… I’m going to be executed anyway, aren’t I.”

“Probably,” Morrigan said cheerfully. “Let me guess: you didn’t mean to summon a demon, or you meant to just a little bit, and got more than you bargained for.”

“Sort of,” Jowan said again. “Let me start at the beginning. You will need to hear this if you’re going to fight it.”

“I’m listening,” Elizabeth said calmly.

“I was hired by Arlessa Isolde to teach her son, Connor, magic,” Jowan began.

“Lord Connor is-” Perth’s eyes widened. “Impossible.”

Jowan shook his head. “No, not impossible… and the boy has talent, too. But that’s why she hired me, you see. She couldn’t bear to let her son be taken off to the Circle Tower, and I have to say, I sympathize with that… She just wanted me to teach him enough to keep his talent hidden. His father had no idea.”

“I see,” Elizabeth said. “What happened next?”

“When his father fell ill…” his eyes slid away from hers. “Connor was very upset. He… was not yet strong enough to resist the demon who approached him, and I wasn’t… able to help him.”

“Why not?” Elizabeth asked.

“I wasn’t with him at the time,” Jowan said. “Er… I was already in here.”

“Hold up,” Alistair interrupted. “Why’s that?”

“Indeed,” Perth said grimly. “I don’t recall any of this.”

Jowan backed away from the cell bars. “I… I was hired by Lord Loghain a few weeks ago to come here and ensure that Arl Eamon wouldn’t be at Ostagar.”

“Ensure…” Perth’s eyes widened. “You’ve been poisoning him! That’s what my lord has been ill!” The knight was shouting, and Jowan cringed.

“You would poison a good man on Loghain’s word?” Elizabeth asked, her eyes darkening.

“I wasn’t happy about it, but he would have sent me back to the Circle Tower! They’ll kill me there, or close enough! Do you know what a Tranquil is? It’s a lobotomized mage!”

“Why would Loghain…” Alistair muttered.

“He said something about ‘troops in reserve’, ‘threat to Ferelden’, I don’t know,” Jowan said. “I’m sorry, really I am. I… was a complete fool about everything, that’s what Surana always said, I never think things through properly…”

“I’ll say,” Morrigan snorted.

“But I do want to make things better.” Jowan wrung his hands. “However I can. Really. I-I know I’m not being very convincing. But… please, let me come with you to fight the demon, it’s the least I can do. You can kill me if I mess up, but I really want to help. Except please don’t actually kill me, I also really want to live.”

Elizabeth stared at him for a few moments, evaluating situations.

“No!” Perth cried. “He’s crazy! He’s lying!”

“He’s not lying,” Elizabeth said slowly.

“I think we should leave him here to rot, even so,” Alistair said loudly, and Perth nodded. “Let the undead or Eamon or Teagan deal with him.”

“Is that Alistair talking, or the templar?” Morrigan retorted. “If you have no need of him, I would say let him go.”

“He’s an apostate who served Loghain! You can’t just let him go!” Alistair argued.

“Everyone deserves a chance at redemption,” Leliana said.

Sten grunted. “Even a bas saarebas?”

“I don’t know what that is,” Leliana said, and Sten did not explain.

“But you are a coward,” Morrigan said to Jowan, red lips curling disdainfully.

“Y-yes, I know,” Jowan said. “And a fool. Many times over. I still want to help if I’m able.”

“You shall help us,” Elizabeth said. “Let him out.”

“We’ll all regret this,” Perth said, but did as she asked.

Jowan stepped carefully out of his cell and bowed to her. “I promise I will help however I can.”

“Good,” Elizabeth said. “I will be frank: I don’t want to set you free, after learning that you worked for Loghain. But you have better knowledge of the monster we’re about to face than any of us have.”

“What did Loghain do?” Jowan asked warily.

“Only left King Cailan to die at Ostagar and then framed the Grey Wardens for it,” growled Alistair.

“Ah,” said Jowan. “I’m terribly sorry.”

“We’re not letting him fight, are we?” Alistair asked.

“I can take care of myself in a pinch,” Jowan said. “I understand you don’t trust me. You don’t have to give me a weapon.”

“Ah, so you’re not just a free mage, but a blood mage as well,” Morrigan said shrewdly.

Jowan froze.

“What?” Alistair said, his expression darkening even more. “And we’re letting him come with us!?”

“What exactly is a blood mage?” asked Elizabeth.

“A maleficar,” said Alistair, “is a mage who uses blood to fuel his spells. Usually his own blood.”

“As long as it’s not the blood of our allies, and only as a last resort, I see no reason to go back on my decision,” Elizabeth said. “I feel we need every help we can get, dealing with a demon.”

“Very wise of you,” Morrigan said, while Alistair rolled his eyes with frustration.

“Thank you,” Jowan said meekly. “I won’t give you cause to regret it.”

“If that is settled,” Elizabeth said, and led the way further down the dungeon.

They were attacked once, surrounded by nearly two dozen skeletons, but their numbers were enough to repulse them without major injuries. Aside from that incident, they almost made it to the courtyard door without incident, conversing in low voices, when Elizabeth heard the scrape of a door.

They turned and saw a young woman in maid’s clothes peeking through the door of a storage room. “S-ser Perth?”

“Brunhilde,” Perth said. “Are you alone?”

“No, ser. A-are we safe…?”

“I think you might be,” Perth said. “Certainly, the path to the secret passage is clear. Who else is in there?”

“Gwen, Valena, Tricia, Rose, and Hugh,” said the girl, pushing open the door.

“Valena?” Elizabeth said. “Your father is dreadfully worried about you. As soon as you are out of the castle you should go to him directly.”

The girl named Valena started. “He’s all right? Oh, thank you… We’ve been so scared in here! We haven’t had anything to eat in two days, not since we hid in here!”

“Eugene,” Perth said, “there shouldn’t be anything between us and the secret passage. Escort these folk there and to the village.”

“Yes, ser!”

“Well, that’s one good thing,” Leliana said cheerfully. “I’m glad for them.”

Elizabeth nodded and pushed open the door to the courtyard.

A blazing stream of sunlight met them, and she blinked.

And her feet left the ground as she was brutally hauled forward by an invisible force. She shouted in surprise and alarm, a shout that went dramatically up in pitch as she saw a tall armoured undead readying a massive sword to impale her.

She could not stop her flight through the air, but she could bring her shield around, angle it so that killing strike was deflected or at least less fatal…

The clash shook her to her bones and echoed around the courtyard, but she fell to the ground, her arm bruised but intact, a deep new gouge marring the heraldry of her shield that meant the large rusty sword had been driven aside.

She was surrounded by skeletons, some with swords and shields, some with bows, and that one tall armoured one with baleful red eyes. The others were still on the other side of the courtyard, but here came Huan with a ferocious growl, and the others were rushing to her aid… lightning cracked, and two skeletons fell by Morrigan’s spell.

Her shield came up again in time to block another strike from the revenant, and her sword whipped out to parry another skeleton by sheer reflex. Something struck her in the back but her armour held, though she grunted.

“Here!” Alistair shouted, Sten and Perth beside him, driving the skeletons away from her back. “It’s just like being home again,” he joked as he joined her side. “Except with more undead.”

It was all she could do to keep the revenant at bay; its blows drove her back easily, and she couldn’t get her sword in for a counterattack at all.

And now the others were surrounding it. Leliana’s arrows and Morrigan’s spells and the other knights were holding back the skeletons, but the four of them were facing the revenant, and it seemed to have no trouble with that at all.

Huan leapt on its back, jaws snapping at its neck, and the sword swung around, sending her dog flying with a pained howl. But before she could attack, it had swung its sword around again, sending her, Alistair, and Perth back a step.

Sten was ready for the swipe, and knocked the sword downwards with his maul. Alistair recovered first, his sword arcing towards the revenant’s face. It ducked, but Elizabeth was already charging with shield out, and managed to knock it back a pace.

It was too fast for all of them, too fast and too strong. How would they defeat it? They couldn’t so much as wound it… Perhaps if they knocked even one piece off it, it would become easier to defeat.

Perth swung his two-hander grimly at its right side, and as it blocked him, Sten stepped up and whacked its left arm off. But the giant rusted sword swung around, Alistair ducked, and Sten caught it with his own left arm. He didn’t lose the arm, but staggered back, bleeding badly.

“Stay back!” Elizabeth cried to him, pressing their slight advantage. There might only be three of them now, but it was missing an arm now, so it would be off-balance. And now Huan was back in the fray, leaping at its wounded side, tearing at the stump of a shoulder before being shaken off again – but that was time enough for Alistair to stagger it by knocking its sword back with his shield and kicking it in the torso.

The rusted greatsword swung around again, the air whistling in its wake, and Perth blocked it, using a hand on his hilt and a hand on his blade to give him greater force. Some sort of rune glimmered under the revenant’s feet briefly before Elizabeth swung at its sword arm, attempting to sever it as well, and Alistair threw caution to the wind and stabbed it full in the chest while Perth used his hilt to entangle the sword.

It withered, pieces falling to the ground, and ancient robes disintegrating. The greatsword burst in pieces as it struck the cobbles.

It seemed the rest of the courtyard had been cleared; many of the skeletons were sporting Leliana’s arrows in their skulls, and some had been crushed by the other knights if they had not been exploded with one of Morrigan’s spells. Jowan huddled behind all of them, essentially defenseless.

Elizabeth took only as long as she needed to establish nothing moved but the living before hurrying to the stairs into the castle. “Quickly!”

She flung the door open and burst into the throne room, lurching to a halt as she took in what she saw. Alistair nearly piled into her.

Bann Teagan was tumbling about the room, singing nonsense syllables in a foolish voice as he did. Behind him, in front of the great fireplace, a boy of about ten stood with his arms crossed, a bored, haughty look on his face that did not fit a child. Isolde stood near the boy, her face buried in her hands and shoulders shaking. Several human guards stood at the sides of the room, completely stone-faced in a way that told Elizabeth that their wills were not their on, as Teagan’s was not his own.

Teagan struck a final pose and crawled to the feet of the boy, sitting on the step beside him with a ridiculous look on his face. The boy squinted at her and she strode closer to him, frowning to hide the fear she felt coiling around her heart.

“So you are the one who’s been destroying my servants!” the boy said, and she felt a shiver run down her spine, because there was a deep, dark echo behind his words.

“I am,” she said firmly, as the others lined up beside her. “We have come to set you free, Lord Connor.”

“Connor is- Connor is not himself!” Isolde gasped. “I beg your forgiveness for the deception…”

“Release Lord Connor!” Ser Perth cried. “Or…”

“Or what?” the demon grinned. “You’ll hurt me? If you do, you’ll kill your precious child long before I feel a thing.” It turned back to Elizabeth. “Mother, what is this thing? It’s staring at me and I cannot see it clearly.”

“That is a woman, Connor,” Isolde said quietly, tears running down her face.

“Is that all?” The demon frowned and Elizabeth raised her chin slightly. “I doubt your words… but if she is indeed only a woman, I wonder you do not have her killed from jealousy! She is much younger and prettier than you! Wouldn’t you like to remove her?”

“Connor, I beg you… don’t hurt anyone!” Isolde cried, kneeling at her son’s side.

Connor shook his head woozily. “M-mother…? What’s going on…” His voice was higher, anxious, without the ominous current running through it.

“Connor! Connor, can you hear me?”

The boy stiffened, with a horrible curl of his lip. “Get away from me, idiot woman! You are beginning to bore me!”

Isolde turned to them. “Please… don’t hurt him, if you can. He is not in control of his actions!”

“I understand,” Elizabeth said. Her heart was aching for the frightened mother and the terrified controlled boy. “But I don’t know how we can save him.” She glared at the demon. “What have you done with Teagan?”

“Heeeeere I am!” Teagan drawled in an overly exaggerated voice. “Heeeeere am I!” He laughed heartily.

“I like him better this way,” the demon said, almost earnestly. “No more yelling, now he amuses me!” He, too, laughed.

“It’s not his fault,” Isolde said softly. “He was just trying to help his father…”

“And made a deal with a demon? Foolish child,” Morrigan snorted.

“It was a fair deal!” the demon protested. “Father is alive, just like I wanted. Now it’s my turn to sit on the throne and send out armies to fight and conquer! Nobody tells me what to do ever again!”

“Noooobody tells him what to do!” Teagan put in cheerfully with an exaggerated chortle. “Nooobody!”

“Shut up!” the demon snapped. “You’re beginning to bore me too. But let’s keep things civil. You, woman, will have the audience you have fought for. What have you come to my castle to seek?”

Elizabeth hesitated. There were many reasons she had come, but one of them was more important than the others right now. “I came to set you free, as I said.”

“What a stupid reason! I am as free as I ever was! More free, in fact! Don’t you think so, Mother?”

“I…” Isolde stammered. “I don’t think…”

“Of course you don’t. Stupid woman. Ever since you sent the knights away you’ve done nothing but deprive me of my fun, but you won’t get in my way this time. This other woman ruined my game by saving that stupid little village, and now she’ll pay!” The demon waved a hand, and the guards against the walls drew their swords. As Isolde shrank back into a corner of the room with a frightened, breathless scream, Teagan also stood, seizing the sword that still hung at his back, and advanced on the group. The demon fled the room; Elizabeth had no time to watch him.

She charged at Teagan, uncertain of what she could do to defeat him without hurting him, but certain that she and no other had to fight him. While the other knights struggled with the mind-controlled guards, she parried Teagan’s strike and withstood the blow of his shield. If she could only disarm him…

Teagan’s attacks seemed slower, less confident than the way he had fought the night before; perhaps it was fatigue, or perhaps he was fighting the demon’s control.

If she managed to knock him out, would it succeed in breaking the demon’s hold, or in securing it?

She had to try; there was no other option.

She sidestepped within Teagan’s range, and if she wasn’t fast enough, his blade would be able to strike at her head… Her shield whipped out, mercilessly, once, twice, three times, and Teagan dropped to the floor.

She turned to see what she could do with the rest of the battle, but it was over; two of the guards had been knocked out; one was bleeding heavily, slumped against the wall, and one was being wrestled to the ground by two of the knights. Huan trotted up to her and nuzzled her hand.

Morrigan was kneeling beside Teagan. “I think you’ve given him a concussion. Well done! I hope you didn’t want him too intact.”

“Oh dear,” Elizabeth said, kneeling on his other side. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

As if in answer, Teagan’s eyes fluttered open and he groaned. “Ach… What… what happened?”

“I knocked you down,” Elizabeth said, wringing her hands slightly. “I’m so sorry! Are you all right?”

He chuckled breathlessly and struggled to sit up, even though his eyes were crossing dazedly; she helped him. “It’s not the first time I’ve been knocked out, not even by a beautiful lady. I seem to be myself again, and for that I am grateful. Where is Connor?”

Isolde crept forward from the corner she had hidden in. “Teagan?”

“Isolde! Are you unharmed?”

“I am…” Isolde burst into tears. “I’m so sorry, Teagan! I did not want that done to you. I did not want any of this!”

“Shh, shh,” Teagan soothed his sister-in-law. “I forgive you and Connor. It’s not your fault.”

“But it is,” Isolde sobbed. “My Connor is a mage, and it was my fear that led to this pass…”

“I understand it is very difficult,” Teagan said. “But let us thank Lady Elizabeth and her companions, and Ser Perth and his knights for saving us.”

“We’re certainly not done here yet,” Morrigan said. “Did you not say the Arl was the most important person to save? And that demon-possessed boy’s run off.”

“Oh, I hope he’s all right,” Isolde said. “I hope they are both all right. But what can we do?”

“I… may have some options,” Jowan said hesitantly.

Isolde snarled. “You! What are you doing out of your cell!?” Elizabeth helped Teagan to his feet and hurriedly filled him in on who and what Jowan was.

“Um… helping.” Jowan twisted his hands together. “Making up as best I can for the terrible mistakes I’ve made…”

“Nothing can make up for what you’ve done! This is all your fault!”

“I know, I know, I agree with you… but I want to do what I can.”

“At least listen to him,” Morrigan said. “Do what you will afterwards.”

“Lady Elizabeth?” Teagan asked.

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “I know little of magic. How can this be solved?”

“Er, well, it’s very hard to turn an abomination back into a normal person,” Jowan said. “Almost impossible… but not completely impossible!” he added hastily. “You have to send someone, a mage, into the Fade to kill the demon in its home.”

“How do you intend to get there?” Morrigan said, eyeing the mage like a cat with a mouse.

“Er, well…”

“Blood magic,” muttered Alistair. “Of course.”

“Yes,” Jowan admitted. “And a lot of it. In fact, a human sacrifice is necessary.”

“That’s out of the question,” Elizabeth said immediately.

“Then your only other option is to kill the boy,” Jowan said, sighing.

“Also out of the question,” Isolde snapped.

Jowan nodded. “I can’t be the sacrifice, because I have to do the ritual. And your friend… er… Morrigan would have to be the one to enter the Fade.”

“I will be the sacrifice,” Isolde said, her eyes sparking resolutely.

“Isolde!” cried Teagan.

“I know I am conspiring with a maleficar,” said the arlessa. “But I will do anything to save my son – even give up my life to a ritual of black magic.”

“Is there no other way?” Leliana asked Jowan plaintively.

“There is another way… but it takes resources we don’t have,” Jowan said.

“Tell us anyway,” Elizabeth ordered.

“You need ten mages and about twenty kilos of lyrium,” Jowan said. “Then you can send a mage into the Fade without blood. I’ve heard of elves who can do it with only one or two mages, but I’m not an elf and I don’t know their methods…”

“The Circle Tower is not so far away,” Teagan said. “A day’s travel, more or less.”

“If I set out to ask for aid with my companions,” Elizabeth said, “will you be able to maintain control here?”

“Yes,” Teagan said. “I was taken by surprise when it controlled my body. It will not happen again. As for the skeletons, we can deal with them. Not so well without you, but we shall make do.”

“Good,” Elizabeth said. “I will make all haste, but the land is in upheaval and I may be delayed. I shall not be longer than three days – or dead.”

“I pray for your swift and safe return,” Isolde said. “You are the most generous of women, truly. Maker watch over you.”

“Do not lock Jowan up straight away,” Elizabeth said. “He can be trusted in his wish to help, and now that his secrets are exposed he will not betray you. His knowledge I believe can be of use.”

“Thank you,” Jowan murmured from where he stood in the corner.

Teagan hesitated. “As you say, then.”

“Maker watch over you,” Elizabeth said, and strode to the door.

 

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