The Journey Begins - an interactive Dragon Age story

"Shouldn't we bury them?"

The two wardens turned to the young woman who had spoken, leaving Hiram a chance to quickly search through the pockets of the dead bandit nearby.

Solana Amell was clutching the amulet she wore like it was an old nervous habit. When she realised they were watching, she let the dainty thing slip beneath the collar of her robes, hiding the amulet from view. "We can't just leave them like this, can we?" She gestured at the dead bodies. "There's wild animals-"

Hiram snorted. "No there ain't. No self-respecting wolf would venture this close to a village. Not when they have plenty of prey to hunt in the woods at least."

"Oh, I didn't realise..." Solana looked slightly downcast.

"It's alright", Duncan said picking up on the insecurity that seemed to come off the girl in waves. "You have spent most of your life in the Circle, there is bound to be many things for you to learn and discover now that your..."

"Free?" Solana interrupted a little sharply, straightening her back. "It wasn't my choice to leave the Circle."

"After what happened, First Enchanter Irving decided it was best you didn't remain in the Tower. Surely you can understand why."

"What happened?" Hiram whispered to Alistair, having moved over to where the newest Grey Warden was waiting.

"Don't know. But I'm pretty sure it's worse than she having accidentally turned someone into a toad", Alistair replied in a quiet tone of voice. His brow knotted when he noticed the dwarf wiping his bloodstained hands on a rag. "Find anything good?" Alistair's voice was testy with dislike.

Hiram gave a shrug. "A few potions. My guess is that witless bandits won't be the only enemies we'll face, and some extra potions might come in handy."

The young Grey Warden mulled it over. "I suppose you're right", he said. "It still doesn't feel right though."

Solana had let the potion slip into her pouch and was trudging along with the others. It was a mere week since she had left the Tower and her entire body ached. She wasn't used to walking for hours, or the lessons Duncan insisted upon each morning.

"You can't rely solely on your magic", he had said, showing her how to hold and wield her staff like a weapon. "If a darkspawn manages to bypass your spells, you will have to face it in combat. Alistair, come here."

"Am I suppose to be the darkspawn again?" The young Warden had complained good naturedly. "My shoulder still hurt from yesterday."

"You have a shield", Duncan had pointed out. "I suggest you make use of it."

The different stances and movements had felt clumsy and awkward at first, but when she suddenly managed to knock Alistair off his feet, Solana had realised that she was slowly getting the hang of it. She had grinned and instinctively extended her hand to help him climb to his feet. Then she had remembered what had happened in the Tower and had snatched her hand away before Alistair could take it. The look he had given her when she turned her back to him and stalked off was one of surprise and hurt.

He must think I'm a coldhearted cow, she thought now, watching the newest Grey Warden out of the corner of her eye. No doubt they all think that...

The road turned and sloped into a valley. The landscape changed around them, becoming one of gently rolling hills and orchards. On Duncan's orders they stopped to rest and eat. "We should reach Whitewood by sunset", Duncan said, stirring the pot that hung from an improvised tripod over the small fire. The smell coming from the stew made Solana's stomach grumble and she eagerly accepted the filled bowl Duncan handed her. But not as eagerly as Alistair.

Not even taking the time to use a spoon, he all but sucked the thick stew from the bowl. "Sorry", he mumbled, noticing their looks. "It's just that I'm starving."

"It's a side-effect of the Joining", Duncan explained, filling Alistair's bowl again. "The bad table manners are all his own though", he added a little pointedly making the young man duck his head.

"Couldn't find my spoon", Alistair mumbled in between chewing and swallowing.

"What did you do before you became a Grey Warden?" Hiram asked, blowing on his own stew before swallowing down a spoonful of it.

"I was in a Chantry training to be a Templar", Alistair replied. "And before that I lived with Arl Eamon in Redcliff."

"You were a Templar?" Solana's eyebrows rose. "A mage-killer?"

"Technically I was never a full Templar, just a recruit", Alistair explained, looking up from his stew to meet her gaze. "And I would never kill a mage. Unless the mage tried to kill me first of course."

"Mage, Templar... There are no such titles within the Grey Wardens", Duncan said before Solana could reply. "You are to be brothers and sisters in the Order, and I expect you all to behave as such. Is that understood?"

"So many questions." A small smile curved Solana's lips. "You sound like a Seeker."

Hiram shrugged. "I'm just curious. We are to be brother and sister after all."

"That is true." Solana laced her fingers around her bowl. "I've lived in the Circle most of my life. I was four when my magic manifested itself the first time. I don't remember it but I am told I killed my mother's favourite cat."

Hiram's bushy eyebrows rose. "Did you set fire to it?"

The girl shook her head. "No I... petted it", she explained reluctantly. "One of my talents is Life Drain, it's-"

"Self-explanatory", Hiram said to save her from having to describe what happened. It was obvious it pained the girl. "And no doubt very useful when fighting. If you get injured you can just heal yourself."

"I... I suppose." Solana met the dwarf's gaze. "You don't fear me?"

Hiram let out a chuckle. "I'm a dwarf, girl. No, I don't fear you. Unlike the Templars I assume?"

Solana nodded. "Combine Entropy with the art of summoning spirits and every Templar's knuckles starts to itch. If it hadn't been for the First Enchanter I would have been made Tranquil."

"I've seen the Tranquil's around the Chantry", Hiram said. "They always struck me as statues brought to life. As cold and lifeless as marble."

"I suppose I should thank you", Solana turned to Duncan and Alistair. "I would have preferred to remain in the Tower but as it where... If I had stayed..."

"Your gifts are rare", Duncan said. "And as a Grey Warden they can be put to good use." He gave a smile, his teeth flashing white in his dark face. "There are several mages in the Order, all of them powerful and serving with honour. I have no doubt that you will be one of them, Solana. And you, Hiram..." He gave a chuckle. "Well, dwarves has always been our finest warriors, and our best drinkers. Perhaps you fancy a cup of ale before we continue on our way?"

"It's pretty here", Solana said, reaching out to touch the colourful hollyhocks that grew by one of the small houses they passed.

"It is?" Alistair asked, craning his head, giving the simple houses another look. "I sometimes forget just how sheltered you mages are."

"Says the Templar", Solana retorted making Hiram grin.

As they followed the main road leading through the village, Whitewood seemed all but deserted. Only a couple of hens and chickens outside one of the houses revealed that it wasn't deserted. But when they approached the Chantry they could hear the Chant of Light spill out through the open doors.

With Duncan taking the lead, the group entered. The smell of incense filled the air and Solana took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar scent. The villages stood in small groups, some whispering to each other, others singing the Chant together with the priestesses. Heads turned and the singing ended when the villagers noticed the four strangers.

"Are you the Grey Wardens?" A brown-haired man in his late twenties came towards them.

"We are", Duncan confirmed.

"Thank the Maker!" The young man clasped the amulet around his neck in relief. "I am Cecil, the village Elder. I was the one who asked for your assistance."

"Will you find our missing children?" A grey-haired woman asked, her voice quivering. "My daughter, Jenivere, has been missing for almost two weeks."

"Our son disappeared a month ago", a man said, standing with his arm around his wife's shoulder.

"Three youngsters has gone missing this year alone", someone said. "Five went missing last year."

"Six the year before that."

The four Wardens found themselves surrounded by people, their faces haggard with worry, their eyes dark with grief. "Please help, us Wardens. Please find our children."

Several heads nodded in agreement and several voices rose, thanking the Maker and the Grey Wardens. Alistair felt his heart constrict with both empathy and worry. The villagers looked at them with such hope. What if they failed them?

"Come now, friends, give them some room." Cecil said, raising his voice so he could be heard over the dim. "The Wardens have travelled far to get here and they no doubt need a good meal and some rest before they do anything else. We should prepare a feast of celebration and thanks."

"That was very clever", Duncan said as when the villagers left, talking eagerly, making plans for a banquet.

"For one so young, you mean?" Cecil asked with a crooked smile. "My grandfather was the Elder before me. You could say I inherited the title." He gestured for them to follow and together they exited the Chantry. The chill of the morning was completely gone from the air, and with the sun shining down, Whitewood looked like an idyllic little village nestled among groves of apple and pear trees. “We got good soil here”, he said as if having read their minds. “Even with Arl Howe raising our taxes each year, Whitewood could be prosperous.”

“I take it it’s not?” Duncan side-stepped a puddle in the dirt road.

Cecil shook his head, his shoulders slumped as if he was carrying a heavy burden. And no doubt he was. “The last three years we’ve lost almost half our harvest to a strange mould or pestilence. It turns the grain black and bitter and makes it unfit for both animals and humans. And with our youngsters disappearing… people are starting to say that Whitewood is cursed.”

“And Arl Howe hasn’t helped you?” There was an angry edge to Alistair’s voice. “We should contact the Landsmeet, Duncan. I know for a fact that Arl Eamon wouldn’t just sit idly by if he heard of this. He has the king’s ear. Perhaps we could-”

“Grey Wardens can’t be seen meddling in politics”, Duncan reminded the younger man. “Our situation in Ferelden is precarious as it is without us putting our noses in the affairs of the nobility.”

“But these people need help!” Alistair had come to a full stop and was facing his mentor.

“And that’s why we’re here”, Duncan said, his voice a calm counterpart to Alistair’s heated tones. “People going missing and grain turned black and foul… it could be signs of darkspawn activities in the area.”

“Oh.” The look on Alistair’s face was almost comical.

Duncan allowed himself an amused grin. “Close your mouth before a bird decides to nest in it.”

Solana snorted and Hiram chuckled somewhere inside his beard when the young Warden quickly shut his mouth, his jaws and teeth clicking together. They followed Cecil to a house at the outskirts of the village. It was no larger or grander than any of the other houses. The only thing setting it apart was the painted sign by the door.

Taking a closer look at it, Hiram realised it was a shield.

“My great-great-great-grand parents fought in the Fourth Blight”, Cecil said, having noticed Hiram studying the sign. He tapped a finger on the worn wood. “Ser Cecilia DuRellion used this shield to protect the man that would become my great-great-great-grand-father from being cleaved in half by a hurlock. Somehow in the midst of all that, they fell in love. The noble Chevalier and the lowly Archer. A romantic tale, isn’t it.”

“Wouldn’t that make you nobility?” Solana asked. “The House of DuRellion has close ties to the Empress of Orlais after all.”

Cecil chuckled. “In the eyes of the people of Whitewood, yes, perhaps. But in reality, no. We have no claim on any of the DuRellion estates, or the name. When Cecilia chose to marry a lowly commoner, she was ripped of her rank of Chevalier, her family title and the DuRellion-name. All we have is this.” He tapped a knuckle against the painted the shield, then made a gesture, encompassing the village. “And this.”

“It’s more than what most people have”, Hiram said, earning himself a smile from the young man.

“You are quite right.”

The Grey Wardens and their two recruits spent the rest of the day resting while the village prepared a feast in their honour. Alistair had been eager to set out immediately, following what little clues they had. But like Duncan had pointed out to the young man, the banquet was one of the few chances the people had had to put their troubles aside even for an evening.

Despite their crops failing, the long table in the village’s hall was filled with bread, pies and cakes. A pig had been roasting in the large fireplace for hours, and as the sun set the delicious smell spread through Whitewood. The feast itself was a boisterous affair.

To the amusement of her fellow travellers, Solana was pulled up from her chair by a group of young girls. A flower-reef was placed on her head as the girls formed to circles on the open space at the end of the table. Pipes and drums started playing, and soon the girls were twirling, their skirts flashing daringly, exposing their ankles and even a knee here and there.

Solana’s travelling-robes were drab compared to the dresses the other girls were wearing, but someone tied a colourful ribbon around her waist and a shawl with long strands was placed around her shoulders. She soon got the hang of the steps and turns of the dance, and for a brief moment she forgot where she was, and what she was. Then the music slowed as the dance ended and a new began. More people, both old and young, joined them on the dancefloor, forming pairs. This was a dance Solana knew, having danced it with her fellow mages in the Tower.

Men and women stood in two lines, facing each other. Solana gave the young man standing in front of her a shy smile as he bowed with flourish and she curtsies. One gliding step forward and they met in the middle. They circled each other, back to back before returning to their original positions. As a flute joined the pipes and the slow, rhythmic beat of the drum, the women took a step to the left and the men took a step to the right, changing partner.

“Hello.”

Solana looked up and found herself looking straight into a pair of hazel-coloured eyes. “Alistair.” He bowed and it took her half a second to realise that she was just standing there, staring at him. Solana quickly gathered herself and managed a passable curtsy. “I didn’t know templars danced.”

“They don’t”, he said, when they met in the middle. This time, instead of circling their partner back to back, the dancers were suppose to hold up their hands, crossing wrists with each other. It was a dance that was considered too risqué by the Chantry, who took every opportunity to remind the mages that what the world needed most of all was less mages not more. Of course, this only made the dance a favourite among the younger apprentices. It was said a single heart could be captured and broken several times before the dance ended.

Alistair had raised his hand, waiting for her to do the same while the other dancers around them followed the steps with much giggling and looking about to see who was taking this chance to flirt with their partner. Taking a deep breath, Solana raised her hand as well and took the slow step towards Alistair. “I’m not a templar anymore”, he reminded her when their wrists touched.

They circled each other, their eyes locked. Solana felt her heart flutter. The way he looked at her… “You’re staring”, she mumbled.

“Because you’re the prettiest mage I have ever seen”, Alistair replied. Then, as if realising what he had said, he ducked his head. “Not that I spent my time staring at the mages”, he stuttered. “Outside of you know, staring at them to see that they weren’t becoming abominations I mean.”

Solana couldn’t help but to laugh. Without knowing it, the two turned together again, ignoring the rest of the dancers who had returned to their place in the lines and was changing partners.

From his place at the table, Duncan watched the two, a troubled expression on his face.

“I thought you told Alistair to dance with her so she would be more comfortable around him”, Hiram said, taking another big gulp of the ale. It was very good ale.

“I did. But I didn’t mean that comfortable”, Duncan grumbled.

The dwarf’s heavy brows lowered in a frown. “Please don’t tell me Wardens are required to take vows of chastity like the Chantry-folk.”

Duncan tore his eyes off Alistair and Solana and turned to Hiram. “There’s no such vows, my friend”, he said. “But at the same time relationships between Wardens aren’t exactly… approved of. There’s… complications.”

“Complications?”

“I can’t say more until you have gone through the Joining.”

“Of course not”, Hiram humphed. “Keep your secrets then, Warden.”

On the dance floor, Alistair and Solana had joined the others and was dancing with new partners. Duncan took a slow, thoughtful draught of the ale when he caught Alistair turn his head to watch as Solana circled her new dance partner. Perhaps it was time to have a little talk with the boy. Chantry-raised as he was, Maker only knew how that talk would go.

Sighing to himself, Duncan emptied his cup of ale as fortification.

The feast might have gone on for most of the night hadn’t Duncan cut it short, excusing himself and his fellow Wardens, saying they needed a good night’s rest before they started their investigation.

The night air was cool and sweet-smelling and from the village hall behind them the music and laughter continued as the Wardens and their recruits returned to Cecil’s house.

It was with a contented sigh, Hiram laid back against the pillows on the narrow cot that had been placed in front of the fireplace. It might not be as comfortable as the bed he had been given by the Wardens’ in Amaranthine, but it was a lot better than a bedroll on the ground.

He shook his head in amusement when he noticed Alistair’s eyes quickly darting towards Solana as she made her way up the stairs to the loft. An annoyed sigh told him that Duncan had noticed it too.

“You shouldn’t have said anything”, he said quietly when Duncan sat down on the cot standing next to Hiram’s, leaving Alistair with the one by the wall. “Nothing taste as sweet as forbidden fruit.” With those words he clasped his hands over his stomach and closed his eyes. If Duncan replied he never heard it.


THERE WAS STILL A chill in the air when they walked out of the village the next morning, following the road that would lead them up into the forest. For the first half hour they were following an average dirt road. But when they entered the forest it changed. The smooth flagstones seemed almost to gleam in the sunlight filtered down through the canopies.

“Is it elvish?” Alistair asked when Duncan knelt to brush aside dry leaves and moss to take a closer look.

“I can’t say for sure but it could be.”

“We should follow it”, Alistair said. “Whomever built this road meant for it to lead somewhere.”

“One of the women in the village told me that there’s stories about a cursed castle somewhere in the wood”, Solana said, pushing the hood of her cloak back.

“A cursed castle?” Hiram wanted to give a sarcastic snort. It sounded like something out of a fairytale. But with the tall trees closing in on them, towering over them, and the strange road winding its way deeper into the forest, it was difficult to shake the feeling that there was something waiting for them at its end.

A couple of minutes later they all stood staring up at the trees Hiram had found. The dolls hung like strange fruits from their branches. Not all of them had been pierced with pieces of metal, Solana noticed. But everyone had been smeared with red. Loathed to touch one of the dolls with her bare hands she used a stick to hook one off a branch and sniffed precariously at it. Her mouth twitched with disgust. "It's blood", she said, putting the doll back on the branch. "Do you think the Avvar did this? I've read about their customs in the Tower. Some of their rituals involve blood sacrifices."

"Hmm..." Duncan stroked his short beard. "I haven't heard about Avvar being seen in this area in decades but we can't disregard them. Not until we know more at least."

Alistair's hand went to the hilt of his sword. "I've heard about Avvar stealing children and sacrificing them to their gods."

Hiram snorted. "And I've heard stories about them mating with bears. It's just stories, Alistair."

"You sure about that?" Alistair bent down a branch so Hiram could take a closer look at the doll hanging from it. "See the hair on its head?"

The dwarf stared at the tufts of golden hair. "Fur", he said. "Fennec maybe?" But a hint of doubt had snuck into his voice.

"There's spirits here", Solana said, turning to them. "I can feel them around us. I could ask them if they know something about the dolls and who put them here."

"Are you sure it's spirits and not demons?" Alistair asked, his hand still on the hilt of his sword.

Solana hesitated then shook her head. "I can't be sure until I conjure them. And it will be them", she added. "The Fade bleeds into this place. Even if I conjure just a small wisp more will come through."

Duncan mulled it over. He had dealt with his share of shades, and even a couple of smaller demons. But something in Solana's voice told him that anything coming through on its own wouldn't be small. This could get dangerous fast. But considering how little they had to go on, perhaps the risk was acceptable. He gave a short nod. "All right. Do it."

Solana took a deep breath and focused, opening herself to the mana. It poured through her and as always it was a rush as the power spread through her body.

"You sure about this?" Alistair asked the senior Warden as the three of them spread out a little, their weapons drawn and ready.

"Sometimes you can't be sure, Alistair", Duncan replied. "Sometimes you just have to trust your instincts."

Solana raised her hand and for a moment it looked like blue flames was enveloping it, then the flames took the shape of a glowing orb. It danced around the girl as if it was bursting with joy. Then suddenly there was two of them, then three, then six.

The wisps zipped around emitting strange chiming sounds. Hiram swatted at one that seemed to have taken interest in his beard. "Aren't you suppose to ask them questions or something?" He asked irritably when a second one dove for the hand he had waved, chiming excitedly.

Solana laughed when suddenly all the wisps encircled Hiram. "I think they like you."

The dwarf grumbled under his breath, then yanked his beard out of the way when several of the wisps looked as if they were thinking of nesting in it. "Stop that, you miserable little lamps!"

Taking pity on him, Solana clapped her hands to get the wisps attention. "See these?" She said, pointing at the dolls when the wisps came bounding to her. "Do you know who put them here?"

The wisps gave a series of high-pitched noises. Solana frowned. "Are you sure?" She asked them.

"Can really understand what they are saying?" Alistair asked. "It doesn't sound like they are speaking a language."

"They're not", Solana replied. "They communicate in images and feelings not words. It seems a mage put up these dolls."

"A mage?" Alistair's eyebrows rose. "Out here in the middle of nowhere? Do they mean an apostate or perhaps a hedge-witch?"

Solana shrugged. "I don't know. The wisps are unable to make such distinctions."

"Did they show you the mage's face?" Duncan asked.

"No. I got the feeling that whomever it is he or she frightens them." Solana closed her eyes focusing as the wisps moved around her, making more of those bell-like noises. "The dolls are a ritual... a warding hex. That's all we'll get", she said, opening her eyes again. "The wisps doesn't know anything else about the dolls or whoever it is that placed them here. I should let them go back to the Fade now."

Duncan nodded. "Well done, Solana."

The girl gave him a shy smile before turning to the glowing orbs. She raised her hand and once again was enveloped by that blue glow. Then her eyes suddenly widened in fear and she threw her hands up as if trying to stop a tide. An unearthly wind started blowing, making the dolls dance at the end of their strings, their wood limbs clattering. Screeching the wisps took off, bounding in among the trees. "It's too much! I-I can't hold it back!" Solana's voice was strained and she looked unearthly as the blue glow took on a strange green tinge.

Duncan realised before the others what was coming. "Prepare yourselves!" He shouted to make himself heard over the rushing wind.

Suddenly it appeared: the demon. It towered over them, taking the form of something utterly strange and terrible. Vaguely humanoid, it was covered in scales and spikes, a dark current crackling around it. A malicious laughter reached their minds without bothering to go through their ears.

It turned to Solana. So we meet again, mage...

"It's not possible." She stood there frozen to the spot as it moved towards her. "I defeated you."

The demon laughed again. Is that what you remember? Suddenly, with the speed of a striking snake, it attacked, releasing an electric current that slammed into Solana, trapping her. Lifted into the air by the demon's power, she writhed in pain, a scream clawing its way out of her throat.

That left the demon.

The air crackled as it prepared to unleash another onslaught of magic. Alistair focused, making an attempt to dispel the attack before it could happen, but the demon was just too strong.

It turned its ugly head towards him and leered, showing rows of sharp fangs. You think you can stop me, little man?

"No", Alistair said, bracing himself behind his shield. "But they can." He nodded towards the rest of the group who had positioned themselves behind the demon. "Now!" He shouted as the demon started to shift its heavy body around. "Hit it with everything you have!"

Hiram dove in towards the demon's left leg, vaguely aware of Duncan attacking the right. Lightning crackled around them as Solana wove spell after spell, trapping the demon in a web of magic, slowing it down, making it vulnerable to Hiram and Duncan's attacks.

Alistair focused on diverting attacks directed towards the mage, holding up his shield to protect them both from the wave of power the demon released their way. He peered over the edge of the shield. "It's getting weaker!"

"So are we", Hiram muttered, shaking the sweat out of his eyes as he ducked a swipe by a clawed hand. He heard Duncan grunt as the man rolled under the blow to come up, slashing at the arm and cutting the hand clean off. The demon howled and staggered back. Suddenly they were all moving in unison, fighting together like a well-trained group of warriors. Solana moved in, the glow of mana around her intensifying as she used every ounce of her magical ability, draining the demon of life. The spell was visible like a dark cloud whirling around the demon. It gave a last howl of rage then crumbled, its body disintegrating before their eyes.

Solana staggered as the bond between her and the demon snapped. Then Alistair was there, holding her up. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "Yes, I just feel nauseous." She looked up, meeting his eyes then frowned. "You're bleeding."

Alistair reached up to touch the cut just below his hairline that he hadn't felt until now. "It's just a scratch", he said, taking a step away from her when he noticed the look Duncan gave him.

Hiram had walked over and kicked a piece of the demon over. The grey flesh quivered and he grimaced, scraping slime off his boots. Then he looked up and saw the strange stick dolls hanging from the trees. Some of them were singed from the battle, smoke rising from them as they glowed in the green darkness. He turned to Duncan.

"You think the demon was put here as a trap?"

No one was surprised when the wisp set off, following the trail of hanging dolls. In fact, and Hiram grumbled this to himself, anyone with common sense would have guessed as much.

But when the wisp suddenly veered off from the trail snaking its way between the eerily decorated trees, the party hesitated. "Which way should we go?" Solana asked, watching the wisp zip along a path so narrow it was almost invisible. Duncan knelt, brushing aside moss and dead leafs.

"The trail is old", he said, studying how tufts of growth had sprang up in the middle of it. "And it hasn't been used in a long while. See how wet the ground is here, anyone walking here would leave footprints."

"It could be another trap", Alistair said, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Hiram was inclined to agree with the former Templar. His eyes narrowed as he studied the wider path with the trees. A breeze stirred the dolls making them clank gently together. The sound they made made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. Then he saw something almost hidden in the underbrush next to the path. Picking it up, his eyebrows rose in surprise. "Look here!" He held up a well-made bow. "Didn't the folks in the village say some of the kids had been out hunting when they disappeared? No boy or girl would ever leave a bow like this behind willingly."

Hiram was right, Duncan realised. Someone had spent time carving in a pattern for decoration, but more than that, the bow was old. Most likely it was a family heirloom. No child, no matter how unruly or careless would willingly part with such a prize. "We have our answer then", he said, handing the bow back to the dwarf. "We go this way. But be careful, we can't afford to fall into another trap."

For the better part of an hour, they walked through the forest, accompanied by the small effigies. They were older here, some nothing more than a bundle of sticks wrapped in a piece of fading cloth. Despite the fact that they only had rudimentary heads with no features, Solana culdn't shake the feeling that someone was watching them. Someone... or something...

When they finally broke through the treeline, small party came to a halt. Even Duncan stared in wonder at the structure before them.

"I think we've found the ruins", Alistair mumbled in that knack he had of stating the obvious.

It had once been a grand palace, or perhaps a temple of some kind, but time, and the elements, had worn it down. Nature had taken over the gardens surrounding it, turning them wild and feral. Slowly, they walked past large pieces that had once belonged to a statue. Even in pieces and covered in moss, the sublime beauty of the statues face, peering at them among the moss and vine, could only be elven.

Before Duncan could suggest it, Solana called forth another wisp. Gently murmuring to it, she instructed it first to seek the mage, but when the glowing little orb just continued to return to her, they had to come to the conclusion, that the blood-mage had either not come to the ruin, or perhaps had managed to hide his presence.

But what was clear, was that someone had been there. There was freshly kicked over moss, and even a footprint visible on the shattered flagstones of what had once been a garden path.

The atmosphere in the overgrown garden was oppressive. The air was dank and had a sickly sweet smell to it. Decades, if not centuries, worth of moss and lichen made the stone path slippery. Blood oaks, their dark red leafs looking almost black, shadowed the trail, casting it in a strange reddish gloom.

Solana's staff glowed blue adding to the eeriness. Here and there among the trees and the overgrown trellises stood statues, half overgrown with vines.

When the attack came, it was so sudden, only Duncan’s experience and Alistair’s training saved them. Several of the statues had come to life! They charged them wielding weapons that looked brand new.

Magic, Hiram realised as he jumped back to avoid being cut in half by a nasty-looking axe. He surged back in, hitting one of the things over its wrist. The hand broke off and landed in the grass with a thud. But to his surprise and horror, time seemed to reverse. The pieces of marble reattached themselves! “Andraste’s tits!” He scrambled to get out of the way as the statue attacked again. “These things are unkillable!”

Alistair had made the same discovery. He bashed his shield into the closest one, driving it back a step but nothing more. “What do we do?”

“They’re elemental guardians!” Solana shouted to make herself heard over the clang of metal hitting stone. “There has to be runes around here that make up the spell that drives them!”

“Then find the runes!” Duncan barked, ducking under a low sweep of the broadsword the statue in front of him was wielding. “Destroy them!”

She nodded. "Nothing broken, thankfully."

Alistair felt himself relax. "Good. When I saw it grab you I thought for sure you would be squashed."

The girl arched an eyebrow. "Squashed?"

"On account of you not having any armour", Alistair hurriedly explained. "You're very vulnerable."

"Am I." There was a hint of steel in Solana's voice. "So, you think I'm a liability in a fight?"

"I'd stop talking if I were you", Hiram warned, then shook his head when Alistair just continued to babble.

"I mean you're soft. Squashable-"

Solana shot him a glare and brushed past him, continuing down the wide path. "Are you coming or not? We still have missing children to find."

Duncan and Hiram fell in behind her, leaving Alistair to stare after the group.

"What are you grinning at?" Hiram asked, noticing the way the corner of Duncan's mouth tugged upwards.

"Oh, nothing..." The Grey Warden replied with an almost sly smile. "It is just amusing to see that sometimes a problem can solve itself."

Hiram knotted his bushy eyebrows, then it dawned on him. "Alistair and Solana."

"Indeed." Duncan's teeth flashed white against his beard. "It appears our young former templar is as inept at talking to girls as he is skilled with his blade and shield. Remind me to send a thank you note to the Chantry when we get back to Amaranthine."

Hiram chuckled.

"What are you two laughing about?" Alistair asked, having caught up with them.

Duncan and Hiram exchanged a look. "Oh, nothing", the senior Warden said innocently. "Nothing at all..."


THE UNKEMPT ROSE BUSHES that lined the path had grown so large that they were walking through a green tunnel. Sunlight filtered through the interwoven branches, creating a mottled pattern of light and shadow. It would have been beautiful had not the bushes also become home to a colony of giant spiders.

Solana was still pulling cobweb from her hair when they stepped up the wide steps leading up to the entrance of the ruin.

More spiders welled out of the door, and Hiram began to realize that this was another trap. With a grunt he kicked away the carcass of the spider he had killed and prepared himself to face the next one already zeroing in on him. In front of him, Alistair was bashing spiders left and right while Duncan cut at their limbs with his swords. Suddenly lightning crackled all around them as if a thunderstorm had exploded right above their heads. Electricity arched between the spiders, killing most of them instantly. Those who survived were smart enough to flee, disappearing out into the garden.

Alistair gave a yelp and jumped back when lightning struck too close to comfort. "Maker's breath! What is happening!?"

"Are you coming or not?"

The three men looked up to see Solana stand by the now open door.

"You called down the lightning?" Alistair asked. "You could have killed us all!"

"Hacking and slashing took too long", the girl said with a shrug. "I took a calculated risk. Besides, you're wearing armour, are you not. Unlike little squashable me."

"Metal armour!" Alistair bristled following her into the ruin. "It turns me into one big lightning rod."

Solana eyed him coolly. "Not that big."

"Children, enough!" Duncan commanded. "We have work to do", he reminded them sternly.

While Alistair and Solana had been bickering, he and Hiram had fashioned torches, now they lit them and held them up.

"Andraste preserve us..." The words fell unbidden from Alistair's lips as he took in the sight revealed by the torches: they were standing in a large hall, and as far as the eye could see, the walls were covered in murals depicting horrible, depraved scenes.

Taking a closer look at a part of the painting that still was fresh enough to gleam wetly in the light of the torch, Hiram swallowed. "I think it's painted with blood."

"Is that a dragon?" Solana held up her staff and focused, making the crystal shards glow increase. The blue-tinted light fell on what could only be described as the mural's center piece. A large, dark creature with it's wings spread was painted in minute detail.

"It's an archdemon." Duncan's voice sounded hollow as it echoed in the large chamber. Slowly, he walked up to the altar that had been placed in front of the mural. It was covered in layers of blood. Some of it was dried to ugly rust-coloured stains, but the top of the altar was coated in fresh blood and...

"Maker!" Solana gasped, having gone completely pale. "It's a hand!"