A REAL Dragon Age (Dragon Age SI)

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A REAL Dragon Age: Prologue: Observers of Change


Ostagar, Dragon 9:31


The table was open...
Prologue: Observers of Change

Baron Steakpuncher

Hopeful Idealist
Location
Australia
A REAL Dragon Age: Prologue: Observers of Change


Ostagar, Dragon 9:31


The table was open to the air, placed as it was on the centre of the towering and decaying pillars which characterised the Ostagar ruins. If one cared to look, they'd be able to understand exactly what the table was for. The rather unassuming piece of wood was the centre of the entire war effort against the darkspawn menace, with written notaries of supply numbers, troop counts and weapon stocks sitting alongside the hodgepodge of plans, fallback points and commands which was to decide the battle against the horrific hordes the Archdemon could conjure up from the foul abyss from whence it came.


Far more important even than the contents of the table however, were the figures which surrounded it. Men and women, dwarven, human and elf alike, all were staring intently at its contents, occasionally talking over what their own roles were to be, and agreeing or disagreeing over the correct course of action they were to take. For if they made one misstep, it would almost certainly be not just their own doom, but the doom of all Ferelden.


But despite the sombre air of the group, one amongst them remained as cheerful as the moment he had arrived in Ostagar.


When Cailin Theirin had been told that the darkspawn had emerged in the Korcari wilds, and with an Archdemon leading them, he didn't react in the way most would upon such dire news. Many peoples would despair, they would shut themselves up in their chantries and pray to the Maker for salvation. Others would immediately start the marshalling of every military force they could bring to bare, lest they themselves fall unprepared.


But King Cailin, first of his name? Son of Maric the Liberator? He had quietly gone into his chapel, and given his thanks to the Maker for the boon that had been placed upon him. This Blight was what Ferelden needed, something to unite the nobility from its petty squabbles, something which could cleanse the decrepit remnants of his fathers rule and allow Cailin to truly extend his own power. Most importantly of all, it gave him reason to ally with the Empire of Orleis, without having to deal with the protests of Loghain, old fool that he was.


It was Cailin's chance for glory, for a victory. A chance to secure Fereldan for centuries. If he could win.


Which was why instead of drinking and listening to entertainment as he would prefer, Cailin was stuck listening to his fathers friend Loghain again. After all, the people had to see their king winning the battle for any of what he planned for the future with Orleis to work. So he would stand in the meetings in his armour, and he would listen to those with better knowledge of military matters. And eventually, once this blight was defeated he would be in a position to act on his own. His dear Celene wasn't sending her Chevaliers purely for the blight after all...


Cailin's attention wavered from his thoughts however, as one of the high mages.... Cailin believed his name was Uldred, spoke, the small man's reedy voice carrying itself across the clearing where the assorted group had assembled.


"My lords, as some of you know, this meeting was called because some of our scouts report that the darkspawn force is quite literally on the horizon. We estimate that no more than three days shall pass before they attack us directly. I uh....must report that several scouts have gone missing. We don't actually know if the darkspawn got them or not. Additionally, we do not yet have any sightings of the Archdemon."


As the assorted group of experienced soldiers, mages and nobility nodded in affirmation, one amongst them spoke, his voice gruff and grim, and portraying not an ounce of emotion.


"Irrelevant, what of their numbers?"


He was clad in armour taken from an Orlesian general he had defeated during the Fereldan resistance against that nation. He bore some scars and no other distinguishing marks as befit a regular commander of Ferelden's armies, due in part to his common birth. He was Teryn Loghain Mac Tir, Hero of the river Dan, and Cailin's fathers oldest friend and ally. Despite the fact that he was married to Loghains daughter Anora, Cailin got the feeling Loghain didn't actually like him that much. To be fair the feeling was mutual, the man stood in the way of Fereldan progress with his virulently anti-Orlesian stance, but Loghain had been acting...strangely as of late.


But despite the mans eccentricities, his name carried enough respect that when he spoke, all present tuned to him. Glancing about, the Teryn pointing at one of the tables maps as he leaned over it, scanning the information present.


"Well? Do we have any idea of the hordes size? We cannot strike unless we have the majority of the beasts trapped inside the valley."


It wasn't Uldred who answered, instead it was one of the Orlesian Wardens sent along for the fight, an elf by the name of Taskis, if Cailin's memory was correct. The small elf gave a light cough before speaking, her thin face set in a frown as she glanced down at one of the reports.


"If past blights are anything to go by, then the horde is at least 20,000 strong. Mostly Shrieks, Gremlocks and Hurlocks, but we have reports of some hundred Ogres as well. But this is the smallest estimate of the hordes size, its likely a similarly sized group is travelling along the deep roads and only now entering the surface. Thats probably where the Archdemon is too.


Loghain nodded at that, a scowl splitting the mans face as he contemplated. Looking at the Warden, Loghain spoke again.


"There are only 15,000 here. Maybe 18,000 once the Couslands and the Warden Commander arrive. Will that be enough to defeat so many darkspawn?"


Taskis placed her hand on her chin as she contemplated, before giving a small sigh and responding.


"Worse odds have been beaten before, if we fortify the entrance to Ostagar well enough, and don't allow them to undermine the foundations, we should be able to hold."


Loghain gave no more than a small grunt of affirmation, and so Cailin punched on the opportunity to get on the Wardens good side. He'd need their help later on after all...


"Don't worry Loghain, the Grey Wardens have fought the darkspawn for a thousand years. We have a good position here, and if the main horde can be stopped, we can locate the Archdemon and defeat it too."


A swift glance told Cailin his little speech had done the trick, the various commanders and nobles gathered around giving small nods and smiling as they listened. All the better in Cailins opinion.


But just as Cailin was about to continue, to give a speech rousing enough to unite all the disparate factions of his army, something which would make even the doubters like Loghain see him as a true king, the leader of this force. A sound echoed through the entire valley.


"RAAAAAAAAAAAWGH!"


Cailin had been born nearly two years after the beginning of the Dragon age, the first sighting of a High Dragon in hundreds of years. He had been fortunate enough to hunt wyverns with his father, they were a most challenging game, something to be respected and not taken lightly, but nonetheless a beast all the same. Dragons though? Cailin had never seen one of those outside a mural or illustration. But as he turned his head around to face the entrance into Ostagar, he caught his first glimpse of what had fascinated mankind for millennia since ancient Tevinter.


The beast was massive, even from the vast distance out it was nearly visible to Cailin's eyes. Gesturing swiftly for one of the farseers the mages had provided, Cailin raised the dive to his eyes to get a better look at the creature. The dragon was a deep crimson, with varying shades of darker reds across its body in bands, and an almost cobalt black underbelly. The flying monster had rows of armour plates down its back as opposed to the more traditional depiction of spines and fins, which Cailin thought was unusual but interesting nonetheless. It was magnificent.


But Cailin felt his veins turn to ice as he considered one horrifying possibility. His voice whispery with the horror he could feel mounting, he turned to the Wardens.


"Warden Taskis....could....could that be the Archdemon?"


The elven warden was just as confused as the rest of the assembled however, and shook her head as she responded.


"No it isn't, the Archdemon was clearly reported to have a far thinner snout, and it was purple, that one maw looks like it could be used as a battering ram. I also think that dragon is also to small to be the Archdemon."


The words should have been comforting, and no doubt they were intended that way. But the one word which dominated Cailins thoughts for a horrible few seconds, was "small". That dragon, which Cailin would bet his crown was longer than most boats, was to small to be the Archdemon. By the Maker how big was that monster going to be?


The dragon was apparently oblivious to its observers, instead roaring time after time, circling around the valley with haphazard beats of its wings. After the fifth or so roar, Cailin absently asked the people behind him a simple question.


"What in the name of the Maker is it doing here? And now of all times?"


To Cailins surprise, it was Loghain who answered, his normally unflappable self control disappeared, and a frown not of distain but worry making its way across his face. The mans voice was ever so slightly shaky as well, which considering Cailin had never heard it be so in the past, should have been a greater shock the it was.


"The darkspawn may have entered the frostback mountains. Thats where most dragons are supposed to live, perhaps the darkspawn drove it from its lair, and now it may be seeking a new one."


Cailin felt a brief spike of irritation at the answer, but suppressed it so he could ask his next question.


"Thats all well but-"


The dragon let out a sixth mighty "RAAAAAAAAAAAWGH!" as it circled once more, the sound was odd though...it was almost more like the beast was screaming....


"-But why is it just circling and roaring like a demon is after its soul?"


It was Taskis who answered once more, her voice soft as one who had realised something terrifying.


"My king... the dragon is an animal, animals often make as much noise as they can to frighten off potential hunters. I suspect it is trying to scare off something which threatens it."


For a few seconds Cailin tried to think of something which could conceivably threaten a dragon of all things. The list wasn't long, just some of the better dragon hunters of Nevarra, and....other dragons. And Cailin knew of exactly one other dragon in the area.


A templar gave a soft whisper, and voiced everyone thoughts.


"Maker preserve us."


Cailin didn't know if the red dragon heard the beats of wings that he heard. The beats were more powerful, swifter, and with deadly purpose.


The Archdemon struck from above, and despite a swift jerk to the side by the red dragon, the fiery breath of the Archdemon scored a hit against its side, a shining shower of scales falling from the long gash its talons had rent. When looking at the Archdemon, Cailin could say with certainty, even without the farseer, that the Archdemon was a fair amount bigger than the red dragon, which looked stockier but was nonetheless not even two thirds the Archdemon's size.


The red dragon retaliated against its attacker in the way only a panicked individual does, it lashed its claws out in a futile attempt to score a hit on the Archdemon's wing as it's foe rent a talon along its side, and spat a fireball which missed entirely. The Archdemon came around for a third pass, this time breathing a stream of fire which its red counterpart managed to duck, coming up with a powerful bite on the blight spawned abominations front leg.


For a few brief seconds, it looked like the red beast might triumph over its purple foe, in a battle that might be recorded for the ages. But it was not to be, and the Archdemons throated lit up once more with the fire all dragons possessed. This time, it was directly grappling with its opponent and couldn't miss.


The stream of fiery breath set the red dragons wings alight, and with a scream of pain which sounded almost...human, the red dragon fell limp in the claws of the Archdemon, which abruptly let it go.


The commanders of the Feredan army watched silently as the dragon fell into the deep mires and forests of the Korcari wilds, too far away to confirm its likely fate. Cailin himself offered a silent prayer to the maker as he considered how in Thedas they were going to down that infernal thing.


Loghain made no such concession, turning away and walking down towards his men, no doubt to prepare them for what was to come. The old general called a single thing over his shoulder as he went out of sight.


"It appears we have found the Archdemon my king."


AUTHORS NOTE

......I.....look i'm sorry that ANOTHER story is being started, but just like with my Mass effect story, this idea was just too good not to write. Its not like I have four other stories or anything.....1 of which is only a single chapter........I don't know if this will be a "big" project like Krogan misplaced or Shiho not Akuma, or a side story like Hard Work pays off and Burning your house down. But the plot bunnies demand this occur, and I shall oblige.

Darkspawn: A general term for the beings corrupted by the blight, a mysterious disease which turns its victims into savage malformed killers.

Grey Wardens: An order dedicated to fighting the darkspawn.

Archdemon: A corrupted old god in Dragon form, the leader of a blight and by far the most dangerous portion of any force the Darkspawn bring to bare, technically immortal unless killed by a being tainted by the blight



(Also point out any typos you see, I cant self-check for the life of me)

BTW the SI is a dragon
 
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Chapter 1 : I am Dragon, you are fictional?
A REAL Dragon Age: Chapter 1 : I am Dragon, you are fictional?


The moment I open my eyes, I notice something is wrong. I can pinpoint that something is wrong pretty much immediately, the way I'm breathing, blinking....even moving my neck is just... off. Even the way I feel is off, its like my chest is getting a suntan while my limbs are covered in ice cubes.


I pause for a moment to let the feelings sink in, maybe I'm hallucinating? A few seconds later, with no hallucinations or dreams dispelling, I shake my head and....why did my vision just move back and forward like its on a damn slider? I shake my head again, and the same thing happens. This time I get to view the entire forest I'm in, from the trees to the bushes and....


Why I am in a forest? Why was I asleep in a forest? What the hell is going on?


I open my mouth to say that last bit, but my voice doesn't come out, instead whats comes out is-


"Raaaaaaagh....."


What.


I try again, maybe I'm more tired than I thought.


"Graaaagh"


Okay, still the same. What in the flying fuck is going on? Why cant I speak, why cant I....oh.


It was at this point that I see my reflection in the wide and murky pool of swamp water I'd been sleeping next to. Why I had thought to sleep next to said pile of swamp water was an excellent question in of itself, but by far more important than any question like that is what I can see in the reflected water.


The head was odd, the top jaw shaped kind of like a carnivorous dinosaur like T-rex, with eyes set far back and there wasn't any skin, only rows of jagged red scales and hundreds upon hundreds of sharp steak knife shaped teeth.


Either I was in the single most realistic and weird hallucination known to man, or I was a fucking dragon. Which lead to the fairly obvious question of, "How am I a fucking dragon". Truthfully none of that mattered so much to me as the overarching question of "How did I get here?" to become the fucking dragon in the first place.


I stare at the water for a few seconds more, then I slowly twist my neck at an angle which I'm fairly certain would fatal were I human....and look back to my body to make sure. I'm greeted by the ever uninteresting sight of what looks to be two school buses worth of red scaled and rumoured dragon, complete with a pair of wings which look like they could fit rather comfortably on an airplane. And a tail.


Notably besides all that, its the forest behind me itself which catches my eye. As opposed to the kind of undisturbed marshy swampland that was in front of me, the path directly behind me was a strewn mess of upturned trees, muddy skid marks and in general looked like somebody had scraped a giant proverbial shoe through the forest.


Or the brand new proverbial dragon, as it were.


I turn my head back to the water. Nodding slowly, I take a deep breath in, and I SCREAM.


The sound of my scream echoes throughout the woods, bouncing back at me from every angle. That isn't what catches my attention though. No.


What really sticks out to me while I'm doing the scream from hell, is the giant plume of fiery breath that comes out of my mouth and boils away the pond water before I can stop it. I skitter back on four legs, staring as the hissing and bubbling dirt that was once the pond, the cloud of steaming vapour also rises from it just adds to the whole "Burn" theme. Also the tiny ashen skeletons of what looks like the animal inhabitants of the pond.


As I am staring at the results of my apparent mouth-flamethrower, I pick up....something, with my ears.


Its like....footsteps? But rather loud and-


"Hello there dear."


And right beside me.


I crane my neck to my right. At first I cant see anything, then I look down, my eyes squinting slightly at the figure of a old woman. The old lady in question has rather sodden looking grey hair which is untidy and hanging loose to her shoulders. She's dressed in simple brown clothes, the only thing notable being the small brooch present on her wrist.


The woman's face is smiling but...its not a happy smile. Instead its the kind of smile one sees when observing a new purchase or when they're planning something. Her wrinkled visage however, isn't particularly threatening or awe inspiring. Once I turn my body around ponderously to face her front on, she speaks again.


"I suppose introductions are in order since you cannot make your own, my name is Flemeth, and I do believe we can be very.... helpful to each other."


...I get the feeling this woman doesn't talk with other people much.


The very moment the words entered my mind, her head snapped to glare at me in a quite irritated fashion.


"I have talked to more people than you have seen in your entire life child, and do remember it is under my sufferance that you even live. Certainly nobody else would heal a dragons wounds in this distant parts. Or should I say, what appears to be a dragon? I must admit that whatever changed your form so vividly did quite well, I can barely detect a scattering of the magic which was used upon you."


Wait wounded? How was I.....


FIRE


FALLING


SCREAMING


PAIN



....never mind. I don't think I want to know.


"Flemeth" or whatever her name actually is, gives a short bark of laughter as I back away, trying to get those painful images out of my mind.


"HAH! Oh I wouldn't do that if I were you little lizard. Removal of memories is a crude way to solve problems, but in the time I have it is a necessary instrument, both for your own sanity and the preservation of what little of my garden you didn't crush in your descent. You were quite mad when I first started mending your wounds after all, I actually had to put a tiny amount of effort into it. First exercise I've had in three decades..."


Wait what was she talking about? Why did I go mad? Where the fck was I? What was even going on?


I could swear the look the old....well I suppose witch or something, gave me was even more scornful than the previous. As when she opened her mouth, the tone was layered with boredom and irritation.


"Little lizard, whomever transformed you into your current form and left you here also left you at the mercies of the Archdemon, a being similar to yourself, if far greater in scope and sense. You two fought and you were smote from the sky, only by my hand did you survive the wounds it gave you, and I suspect flying shall be beyond your reach for some time. Otherwise, the why and what are unimportant, the item which may be of interest to you is the where. You are currently in the Korcari wilds, nominally in what the humans would claim to be the "Kingdom of Fereldan", not they have ever actually controlled this place of course."


Staring at the strange woman, I slowly sigh, to my surprise the draconic version of this is apparently for my nose to belch a cloud of cinders that sets one of the trees on fire. I glance at that for a moment as well, before placing my head in my....claw. Which is actually pretty hard to do, I have to adjust the position of my front leg several times before I can actually reach my now enormous head.

I just.....I want to go home.


And as if on cue, the weird woman next to me speaks again.


"Home may be beyond you changeling, and even if it were not, I suspect your current form would cause you issue. Although....I do believe it to be an issue I can solve."


I swivel my head to face her so fast it seems almost instantaneous. I don't know if my newly draconic face can propel express hope, but if it could I'd be grateful for one thing going right today.


Flemeth finds this amusing, giving a low throaty cackle before looking me in the eyes and speaking, a smile dancing its way across her face.


"Yes thats what you want isn't it? Not power or love or faith, a simple desire. How refreshing. Little lizard, I shall make you a deal.... I have a service that needs doing. If you agree here and now, then after it is completed, you shall be returned to your true form. I'll even attempt to send you back home, though i can make no such guarantees about the success of that option."


I don't pause, I probably should consider this, probably. But I don't want to be a dragon for the rest of my life, i want to be me. I want to be home.


So I give a single nod, my decently long neck giving my reflection in the pool making me look like I'm mimicking an ostrich.


Flemeth just smiles, her grey hair blowing in the breeze as she nods. Then she speaks once more, her voice far more serious than it was prior to to my agreement.


"Very well Little lizard, we shall see if you are up to the task."


Then the old woman raises her hands, and conjures a ray of green light appears from beneath her. It spreads across the ground in a light circle, forming many runic patterns before glowing bright enough I must shield my face from the glare. When I glance back, Flemeth is standing there as if nothing had just happened.


What


Being the apparent mind reader that she was, Flemeth gave a smug smile at my blatant observation of the event which had just occurred.


"It may interest you to know Little lizard, that I am not some conjurer of cheap tricks. I am a Witch, we made a deal and I have a task for you to complete. Now LISTEN AND OBEY!"


Flemeth's voice changed near the end of her sentence to something which sounded...wrong. Like the sound of a thousand whisper multiplied into one, kinda like the whole "souls of the damned in hell" thing I got from that movie one time. Since I wanted my soul intact, I think it's going to be in my best interests to keep the deal.


As a wind picked up around her, the old woman hair flailing in the strong gusts of wind, it she rose into the air and turned towards me. The smile the levitating witch gave me was something to behold, it was entirely to wide to fit on a humans face. And showed far to many teeth. And when she spoke, her voice sounded....distinctly inhuman.

"My task for you is thus, protect my daughter Morrigan, let no harm befall her from which she could not recover. Secondly, protect the Warden from all who would stop them, and ensure they live to slay the Archdemon. Thirdly, end this blight by any means at your disposal, even if it must break the second term."


As Flemeth lowered herself to the ground, she addressed me once more.


"And now changeling, I appear to need to inform you as to what half of those things are. Come, we shall have to walk for some distance before we reach my home."


AUTHORS NOTE



A mysterious witch of wilds, Flemeth is supposedly very old, very powerful, and is planning....something

So.....well lets hope this fic goes well. If it doesn't, meh I tried.
 
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An Elven Mage
A REAL Dragon Age: Chapter 2 : A surprised military order


The first thing that Alim Surana felt as he woke was pain.


There was just so much of it, it coursed its way through his body as he slowly rose from the bed he lay in. It arced through his nerves, making his elvish features curl up in pain. Nevertheless, he slowly opened his eyes to a sight that surprised him more than being alive, the several arrows that had buried themselves in his gut would usually have been called fatal after all.


Sitting quietly in the chair opposite the bed he was in was that chasind apostate he had met in the wilds when getting the scrolls, her almost midnight hair done up in a bun behind her back as read what looked like a tevinter tome on magical theory. Impressive reading, especially since he hadn't gotten anything near that level of access to material when he'd been at the Circle of Magi. Alim abruptly winced as that unpleasant memory came back. Why he'd trusted Jowan he still didn't know, but any future he'd hoped to have was gone now, he was a Grey Warden after all.


Alim continued to look around the...house? That he was in. It was a strange thing, all wood and thatch like his home back in the alienage, but littered with so much nature....even a fur rug for Makers sake! Shaking his head once more to get his thoughts back together, Alim tested his voice, wherever he was after all, the apostate had seemingly rescued him, she probably didn't mean him harm. Probably.


Focussing on the apostate, he slowly tried to speak.

"H-hello? Where am I?"


At his words the apostate ....Morrigan? or something? Looked up, a look of disdainful disinterest across her face as she stood up and walked to his bedside. Looking him over, which honestly made Alim kind of uncomfortable, the apostate gave a small sigh before she spoke.


"Ah, tis good that you are awake, in case you have forgotten, I am Morrigan, we met back in that collapsed tower some three days ago? In matters not I suppose, mother feared that you may not be removed form your slumber for some time. Still, tis perhaps less fortunate that you awake now of all times, mother is away on one of her little trips, I know not when she shall be back."


Pausing for a moment, Morrigan seemed to remember his original question, and her tone was slightly less bored as she answered.


"As to where you are, remember when you visited my mothers hut for those Warden scrolls? You are in the same place."


Alim blinked a few times, the words meaning reaching him a few seconds after the sounds entered his ears. Steadying himself some more, and wincing as he felt the tender flesh of his side move, he tried to put as much calmness into his voice as he could when he spoke.


"I....what happened to me? How am I here, where is the army?... The King?"


Morrigan paused at that, her biting her lip lightly as she seemed to be considering her words. After a small sigh, she turned to Alim, and her voice was heavy with....something.


"Your army was obliterated. Your King's grand plan failed when the Archdemon broke the force meant to flank the main Darkspawn army. The King, your Head Warden and most of the army perished in the fighting, the few survivors flee eastwards to I know not where and even if they do make it to refuge, I cannot say for certain whether they will have the numbers to be of much help. As for you and your dull companion? You have my mother to thank for that, she grabbed you from the tower and brought you here to heal."


Alim's mind was dull as he processed the words. The plan had failed? The Archdemon had struck? How had Morrigan's mother... he was near certain that the old witch's name was Flemeth, managed to get him and Alistair off the tower in the first place? He had so many questions... and was it wrong that he feared the answers?


Then two words which Morrigan had said struck Alim's mind, one which promised to make the problems seem lesser in comparison. Turning hesitantly to Morrigan, he spoke questioningly.


"Alistair's alive?"


Morrigan gave a simple nod as she answered, leaning lightly on her wooden staff as she did so.


"Indeed, though that he lasted long enough to be rescued at all astonishes me. He is quite the imbecile after all, suspected me of attempting some "devious" magics upon him for the past few days. Fool, he should be suspicious of mother if anyone..."


Alim gave a small sigh of relief as Morrigan spoke. Alistair was alive, that.... he wasn't sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, the former Templar had been friendly enough while Alim had known him, cheerful if suspicious of him initially. On the other hand....few Templars were nice, as a mage Alim had enough experience of that. But the man was so oddly.... likeable.


Rising from the bed, Alim grabbed a staff from the bedside, the iron staff he'd been given for his harrowing. It wasn't a pleasant memory, but it would keep him strong, and remind him that even when hope was lost, there was always a way out. Shrugging his shoulders to get the last aches and pains out of them, Alim store for the door, before abruptly stopping when he realised something.


Preempting his question however, Morrigan raised an eyebrow and spoke in a smug tone.


"Your friend is just outside if you must know."


Uttering a brief "thank you" to the chasind woman, the two of them walked out the rickety wooden door of the hut.


To Alim's disappointment, they were in fact directly where Morrigan had said they were, the smell of the Korcari wilds was unmistakable, an odd combination of rot and death, mixed with the occasional wafts of foul smelling plantlife. The clearing they were in was exactly where he Alistair...and the other two trainees, had met Flemeth that first time. Alim hadn't been as unnerved as Alistair, but he had the feeling that whatever Morrigans mother was, she was most distinctly not as human as she appeared.


And speaking of Alistair....


The former Templar was sitting with his back to both himself and Morrigan, idle twirling his sword in his hands as he looked out into the endless depths of swamp and mire which surrounded the hut. He must have heard his approach because the moment the door shut Alistair turned around, a bright smile defining his face as he rushed towards the pair.


A great grin across his face, Alistair held out his hand to Alim, exclaiming a greeting as he did so.


"Alim! You're awake!"


Alim took the proffered hand, leaning on his staff a bit as a small twinge of pain shot through his side. Keeping the smile on his face, he steadied himself before he spoke.


"Thanks to Morrigan's mother if i'm not mistaken, but that doesn't matter now. Alistair, what happened after I was knocked out? Morrigan says the army was destroyed after I lit the tower. Is that...true?"


Alistair slumped at the question, looking to the ground as if to search for an answer before answering in a dull tone.


"The plan would have worked... we were winning! But... but the Archdemon struck our lines, I think it must have gone for the other Wardens, because it didn't pay much attention to anything else on the battlefield. After the horde defeated the rest of the army it assaulted the tower to get at us. The witch from before, Flemeth. She...appeared and got us out ...I cant remember exactly how she did that. She took us here, I only awoke yesterday. Flemeth healed me then went into the wilds looking for...something. She said she'd be back today. Haven't seen any sign of her yet though."


Alim gave a small sigh, perhaps it was to much to hope for that Morrigan had been overstating what happened. But... what should they do? What could they do? The army was shattered, the only people with them were two apostates, one of which might be not fully human anymore. Granted he himself was an apostate but... well there were no buts. He'd only been spared the sword because Duncan had been near enough to conscript him, no more no less.


Alistair, Morrigan and Alim spent most of the afternoon talking, when not being stuck up Morrigan had regaled himself and Alistair of small incidents which had happened growing up in Flemeth's home, Alistair had spoke of Redcliffe, of the people in it and the decision which had led him to the Templars then the Wardens. Alim hadn't talked much initially, but when Alistair had asked, he'd spoken of what had led him to the muddy spot of ground he was sat on, of Jowan betraying him and turning blood-mage, of the life a circle-mage experienced. Of his harrowing, only three weeks prior. But Alim sat, and talked, and for the first time in weeks, felt good about something.


It had been almost dark when sound of something crashing through the brush had met Alim's ears. Elvish hearing was superior to humans, not matter what the Templars at the Circle had taunted at him. His standing up had been initially greeted with confusion by Alistair, Morrigan had simply gotten her staff at the ready, she knew better than most what lurked in the wilds of Korcari.


They stood, weapons at the ready for almost five minutes, as the sound got closer....closer....


And Flemeth walked out of the brush.


While Alim and Alistair stood dumbfounded, Morrigan simply lowered her staff and gave a sigh from far to many years of experience.


"Mother, do you have to play your games?"


Flemeth gave a small glare to her daughter as she walked towards them, looking from Alistair to himself before she spoke, her tone of voice far less jovial than when he'd met her a few days earlier.


"Mind your tongue girl, lest I do it for you. It is good to see you have awakened Warden, doubtless by now your dull companion and my daughter have filled in what happened these past few days?"


Alistair gave a small grumble but otherwise remained silent. Alim glanced at his fellow Warden before answering Flemeth's question, trying to keep his tone as respectful as possible. It would be wise to play nice with the mysterious apostate after all.


"Indeed she has, and its to my understanding that I should be thanking you for waking up at all?"


Flemeth gave a light cackle, it was oddly unnerving to see the old mages amusement in otherwise such a dark conversation. But before he could comment on that, the old woman spoke.


"Indeed you can, such a polite young man, Morrigan could learn something from you. But how I got you away from the foolishness that was Ostagar is irrelevant compared to the decision you face now. Your kingdoms armies have failed, your king and all his lords have fallen with it. Left unchecked, this blight will consume everything east of the frostback mountains in a matter of months. Then it will cross the narrow sea, into the free marches and Tevinter, the Qunari, fools that they are will likley fall soon after. Orlais, Antiva and all the other nations of Thedas will be unable to stop it at that point. Orzammar and Dalish elves might survive for a time, but enough darkspawn will bring down even those two recaltrient peoples."


Flemeth paused seeming to consider something. Alim used the timer to sneak a brief look at the horrified face of Alistair, who had just realised the extent of what could go wrong now. Morrigan looked as uninterested as ever. But as Alim struggled to come up with a response to Flemeth's blatantly stating they were doomed, the old witch spoke once more.

"Unless stopped here, this blight will be our doom, and only a Warden can actually bring what few forces remain together. The Dalish and Dwarves remain yet untapped, and the Circles of Magi sent few of their number to Ostagar. I have managed to recover the treaties from the wreckage of your camp at Ostagar, if you use them then all three groups, along with whatever forces you kingdom can gather together, will be obliged to come to your aid."


Flemeth was interrupted as Alistair spoke up, the blond Templar having a tone somewhere between annoyance and fear in his voice as he did so.


"None of that will matter though! It doesn't matter how many armies we can gather if the Archdemon will crush them like they're nothing! I don't know if you saw what I did from that tower, but ten thousand soldiers couldn't even slow the Maker damned monster down, I don't see how a new army could do better. We would be better off going to the other Wardens for help, they have experience in this at least."


The smile that crossed Flemeth's face was a thing of nightmares. It was a cruel, artificial thing, far to stretched to be real, and far to inhuman to seem fake. The apostate kept that smile on her face as she answered.


"That....is where my daughter comes in."


Morrigan seemed surprised by her mother mentioning her name, but said nothing.


"My daughter for all her faults and foolishness, is somewhat gifted in one particular school of magic you see. She never liked animals, and has managed to channel that into something quite...interesting. Made her dear mother oh so proud."


Alim glanced from mother to daughter, trying to figure out what was going on, when Flemeth gestured into the swampy woodland which surrounded them. And slowly..... something moved into the light.


"I confess I don't know how she did it, most probably it was an accident, difficult at best to repeat. But to answer your question on how the Archdemon shall be defeated young man, how it shall be brought to the ground? Well..."


It was initially quite hard to understand what Alim was seeing. It was...too massive. A literal wall of red scales without end. The rows of teeth which stuck out of the creatures maw were enormous, more akin to shortswords than anything resembling an animals tooth. The scales were intermixed with large bony plates which covered the body and head of the beast, giving it an appearance which mocked an armoured mount. But the most notable feature of the beast was its eyes, blood red and looking at the three humans like they were no more than a light snack to be enjoyed.


Wait....it couldn't be...could it?


"It is best to fight fire with fire is it not?"


As Alim and Alistair gaped at the massive dragon with open mouths, Flemeth's cackles and a dragons roar rose into the nights sky.

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