I am Lena Wolf, Lena's life as it happens Options

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Height, 4E204 - Travels beyond the Rift

"It was an arduous and annoying journey and I am glad to be back with you," Scorpio appeared out of nowhere when Lena woke up. He had been called in for pawn duty while she slept, a practice that Lena found most disturbing.

"As bad as that, was it?" She got up and hugged him. "Want a nap before we set off? We can't really have you too tired to concentrate on our own journey."

"I don't need a nap, you know that," Scorpio frowned. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," Lena shook her head. "What's with the dark rings under the eyes? When was the last time you slept? Or ate? Did that Arisen dismiss you or did you fall in battle? Or fell off a cliff? Or perhaps jumped into the water and drowned when you've had enough? Don't think I don't know all the tricks you pawns get up to..."

"Well... You've been around too long, I see I can't fool you every time," Scorpio smiled. "No, I stayed till the Arisen dismissed me. Here, I brought a gift for you, too. An apple." He produced an apple from his pack.

"An apple?" Lena took it from him. "What a generous gift as well..." She sighed. "Oh never mind. How many times I myself sent pawns away with something similar... You said it was annoying... want to talk about it?"

"I think the sorcerer that we had with us last week, must have found walking with us annoying," Scorpio gave Lena a long look. "He clearly wanted action, but you kept him back."

"I didn't, actually..." Lena was getting defensive. "Unless you mean that I charged ahead and didn't give him a chance to be the front man... But he was a mage! Without any means of attacking foes up close! Mages, like archers, are supposed to keep back..."

"Supposed, but not always do," Scorpio shook his head. "Like you don't always keep back when you're an archer. I guess I just didn't fit into that team. They needed a healer, really, and although I can heal..."

"You are not Rook," Lena summarised. "Very well. Do you want to switch vocation? Be a fighter again?"

"Not yet," Scorpio shook his head. "What are you planning for today?"

"Saurians, ogres, bandits, phantasms and a wight," Lena unrolled the map. "I want to go to the Waterfall Cavern."

"Charming," Scorpio grimaced. "We need holy magic for this, I'll do it. You can't get a mage with holy magic who also..."

"...doesn't try to be the front man," Lena grinned. "But the real reason that you want to stay on as a mage is that your wound reopened when you switched back to fighter last week. Don't think I didn't notice. Lie down." She opened a cupboard and started putting jars and bottles on the table. "You cannot keep healing yourself as if it is a regular wound. You need real treatment."

The wound in Scorpio's side was no regular wound. Dragon blood had been injected into it, infecting him with Dragonsplague, a deadly disease that affected pawns. Lord Phaesus in Battahl had sought to capture an Arisen's soul - Lena's soul - through her pawn using a ritual known as the Transference of Souls. It involved sacrificing both the Arisen and the pawn, but Lord Phaesus wasn't squeamish. Yet he underestimated just what Lena was prepared to do for her pawn... She took another step into the depths of vampirism and turned into a higher vampire just so that she could drink all of the dragon blood from Scorpio's wound and cure his Dragonsplague. She did not die herself only thanks to Molag Bal's gift... Which Molag Bal couldn't wait to point out. It really did seem that despite all her efforts to free herself of vampirism, she only sank deeper and deeper in, towards the pure-blood form that Molag Bal was so keen to bestow upon her.

That wound in Scorpio's side did not heal in the Rift like other wounds, and although it initially closed, it kept reopening from time to time, it kept hurting and kept reminding him of what had occurred.

"Could it be that I failed to cut out all of the necrotic tissue in that wound?" Lena frowned as she was applying ointment on the scar which was indeed oozing dark blood in a few places, as if there was a wound under the skin. "May be I missed something? This blood does not look fresh."

"May be you missed something, or may be it's just the nature of that wound," Scorpio shrugged. "Don't overthink it. What's in that salve? It smells like nightshade..."

"Wolfsbane and nightshade," Lena nodded. "My brother's recipe. You're not a witcher, but you come pretty close, being a pawn," she smiled. "Let's hope your holy magic won't rip right through it."

...

"Wouldn't you want to have your pawn back with you, master?" One of the pawns in Lena's party looked wistfully around him. They'd lost Scorpio in the previous fight, and there was no riftstone nearby to get him back. "The loss of our comrade will weigh heavily upon the morale." He added, looking dejected. "Isn't there a riftstone nearby?"

"Yes, I want to have Scorpio back as soon as possible and no, there is no riftstone nearby, as you well know!!!" Lena spun around to face him, her face pale with frustration. "What do you think I'm searching for - rabbits?!!"

The pawn backed off, nearly falling off a cliff and to his doom.

"This way, master, I think there's a riftstone in that direction," the other pawn, their fighter, touched Lena's shoulder. "I think we've seen a riftstone there." He spoke as soothingly as he could, which was quite a change from his usual brash manner.

Lena snorted and followed the path he indicated. The fighter leveled with the other pawn.

"No one in this party feels the loss of her pawn more acutely than she does," he said quietly. "That reaction... she's got nothing against you personally, I'm sure. But she didn't need to hear what you said."

"Blimey, that was unexpected," the pawn shuddered. "I met enough masters who would just abandon their pawn..."

"Well, she isn't like that," the fighter interrupted. "I know what you mean, but you're new here... You'll understand in time."

"You think she isn't going to dismiss me at that riftstone?" The pawn sounded surprised.

"Nah, not for a few misspoken words," the fighter shook his head. "She's got a temper like a fury, but it doesn't last... Ouch - watch out!!"

Their conversation was interrupted by a pack of goblins who just ran into a fury... Not bothering with her bow, Lena simply kicked them into the ground.

"What?" She turned to her pawns who didn't even get a chance to draw their weapons. "I was too close to them to bother with the bow. And since I'm not allowed to carry daggers... What else was I supposed to do?" She grinned.

"Glad to see you're feeling better," the fighter grinned back. "The riftstone is just up ahead."

...

"At last I'm reunited with you!" Scorpio appeared when Lena touched the riftstone. "It's been ages!"

"There was no riftstone nearby," Lena hugged him. "You fell off a cliff and I couldn't get to you in time... Do you even remember what happened?"

"Of course I remember," he nodded. "I even remember falling... Sorry about that."

...

"To this world I return," Scorpio appeared out of no where when Lena woke up. "It's been... well... it's been another journey. Nothing special." He took a step forward and stumbled. Lena jumped up.

"What, they are calling upon you even when we're camping?!" She exclaimed angrily. "I thought it was only when we stayed at an inn!"

"Ahhh, that explains why we hardly ever stay at an inn!" The fighter laughed. "And here I was, thinking that this Arisen simply enjoyed camping..."

"They can call upon us any time," Scorpio nodded. "There's a trick they do, and it appears to you that it happens while you sleep... but it doesn't look that way to the other Arisen. They just summon pawns when they need them, as you do too."

"Alright, this is all too confusing," Lena shook her head. "But I don't think you can walk."

She had a point, Scorpio could barely stand. He was pressing his hand to his side, clearly in pain.

"I think the wound might have reopened..." He said apologetically.

"I must have missed something," Lena looked worried. "Lie down."

Scorpio's wound was oozing dark blood again. There was no gash on the skin, it was just a scar, but Lena figured that the flesh must have reopened beneath it.

"This needs urgent treatment," she concluded. "This requires surgery." She looked around, but the campsite in the middle of a forest didn't look remotely sterile. At least they had enough restorative potions in their packs... That would have to do. She sighed, touched Scorpio's forehead checking for fever, aligned an array of potion bottles immediately in her reach, then turned to the other pawns. "We are not going anywhere today," she said. "Nick, please guard the site," she looked at the fighter. "Adam... I know you're a sorcerer now, but you used to be a mage, can you still heal? You can use Scorpio's staff."

"I can still heal, yes," Adam, their second pawn, squinted at Lena. "What are you planning? How can your pawn be ill if he just returned from the Rift?"

"I told you, you'd understand things in time," the fighter said in his ear. "Looks like that time is now."

"This isn't an ordinary wound," Lena was blotting out drops of dark blood that kept gathering around the scar in Scorpio's side. "We'll have time for explanations later. For now, just be ready to heal when I say so, and don't be shocked or surprised at anything you're about to see..." She rummaged in her pack and pulled out a pair of guilded daggers. "Silver would have been better..." she muttered. "But gold will have to do." She removed her lorica and her chainmail sleeves. "Here we go... It's better if you don't witness this..." She smiled at Scorpio and turned his head sideways, exposing his neck. "Sweet dreams, my friend." She closed her eyes for a moment, letting her fangs emerge, then bit Scorpio's neck until he fell asleep. She did not need that much blood, but she did need some... There was no way around it.

Adam was watching in fascination. He had heard of vampires that could transform at will, they were very rare, and here was one before him. But surely she didn't just fancy a drink... What was she planning?

Lena flicked her daggers together igniting them. When the fire went out and just the glow remained, she cut through Scorpio's scar. The skin parted revealing a deep wound full of dark blood.

"Oh, it's as bad as I feared," she muttered, standing up. "Nothing else for it..." Another deep breath, and familiar sharp pain in her shoulder blades told her that she was transforming. Adam gasped. Nick took a step back. Scorpio was still asleep. Lena kneeled over his wound and started drinking the dark dragon blood from it.

...

"You will come to appreciate my offer in time," she heard the voice of Molag Bal in her head. "Now again it is my gift that's keeping you alive."

"An Arisen is linked to the dragon... You and I are linked, Dragonborn," Grigori's voice joined in. "The more dragon blood you drink, the closer we become."

Lena stopped drinking blood as she noticed a change in the way it tasted - the heavy bitterness was gone, replaced by the usual sweetness of human blood. She seemed to have cleansed the wound once again. "I did the same thing last time and I missed something," she thought, picking up her dagger and examining carefully the tissue inside the wound. It all looked the same, none of it looked necrotic. "What is the source of the dragon blood here?" She wondered. And then she saw it - a tiny red crystal was lodged in the flesh, a Wyrmslife crystal. "Next time we're in Battahl, Lord Phaesus will pay for this!" She promised herself, trying to keep rage at bay for the moment. "He made sure that Scorpio would never recover!"

Wyrmslife crystals were crystallised drops of dragon blood. When enclosed into a living body, they would transform its blood into dragon blood, thus infecting the host with Dragonsplague over and over again. Lena tried to remove the crystal from the wound, but it was deeply embedded into it. When she tried to lift it out, it crumbled. Cursing under her breath, she had no choice but to cut out more of the flesh...

"Your pawn has had dragon blood course through his veins for a long time now," she heard Grigori's voice again. "I've felt his presence... I've felt your presence too, since your souls are linked... I wonder just how far you will go, Dragonborn..."

Grigori's voice faded away as if he flew off into the distance. Lena sighed. Just like in the very beginning of her journey as an Arisen, she was uncertain and confused. What did he mean - how far she would go? Wasn't it the same cycle being repeated over and over again? It wasn't always the same, true, but close enough... "Perhaps the answers will come to us without us searching for them," she recalled Scorpio's words, something he said after they'd spent hours talking through everything they knew trying to understand the meaning of the Pawn Legion. Some pieces of the puzzle were still missing. She shook her head and focused on closing Scorpio's wound.

...

"...and that's what happened in Battahl," Lena finished telling the story of Scorpio's wound to the other two pawns while Scorpio was sleeping. With all the restoratives and Adam's healing magic, he was recovering well. Lena had ingested enough blood to transform back into her human form, and even her fangs had receded.

"I never knew such wickedness was possible!" Adam was still stunned by the story. "To inject dragon blood into a pawn's body, it's like... like... I cannot think of anything that could compare!" He exclaimed in horror and indignation. "I am so sorry for the things I said to you... about getting him back at a riftstone..." He blushed, looking embarrassed.

"Oh, don't worry," Lena shrugged. "I met pawns that have been abandoned... I know where you are coming from."

Finally Scorpio stirred, waking up. He tried to sit up, but the pain must have been too severe.

"We shall be staying here for a few days," Lena looked at her pawns in turn. "No monster hunting, just deer hunting for now. And don't tell me that resting too much will make us unfit for battle. And no, I won't dismiss you just yet, I don't care what you tell your Arisen... Say it was the most boring journey ever, for all I care..."

"Boring? You've got to be joking," the fighter smirked. "Besides, I'm sure you've got more stories to tell, Dragonborn."

"Hmm." Lena squinted at him. How did he know? She was sure she never mentioned that it was what Grigori called her. Or was it true perhaps that all pawns were linked to the dragon somehow? Once again, she had more questions than answers.

[Lena Wolf]

Last Seed, 4E204 - Pebbles

"Cyril, is that you?" Lena approached a mage in leather bandings sitting on the edge of a cliff in Bakbattahl throwing pebbles into the water below. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello, Wolf," he answered without turning around. "I am sitting on the edge of a cliff throwing pebbles into the water. The same as you, really."

"I see you haven't changed." Lena sat down next to him.

"Why would I?" He looked at her and smiled. "We pawns don't age, so what's another hundred years? Has it been really that long? You haven't aged either, I notice."

"Arisen don't age apparently," Lena shrugged. "At least Arisen like me."

"Yeah, the ones that can't let go of their hearts," Cyril nodded. "You lost yours again and now you're going after the dragon. You'll get it back for a short while, or may be even you won't, but if you do, it'll be taken away from you soon enough, and you will anew throw yourself into chasing the dragon, all in the hope to regain your heart, only to lose it shortly afterwards, etcetera, etcetera. Plenty of pebbles to throw into the water, there is a neverending supply."

"It is as you say," Lena nodded. "And yet I cannot give it up."

"Many Arisen do, though," Cyril looked at her sideways. "My master finds it quite convenient to live without a heart, doesn't miss it in the slightest. He has no need for it at all."

"Has he abandoned you?" Lena's voice fell.

"Not really, no," Cyril shook his head. "I am still officially attached to him, but he doesn't want me to crowd his bedroom, and so I'm staying out. He can call on me any time and I'll come at once, not that it will ever happen. But he didn't throw me off a cliff, if that's what you're asking. I am not forfeit."

"And of course he cannot possibly throw you off a cliff now, since you're not in his bedroom," Lena smirked. "Well played, Cyril."

"It is as you say," Cyril inclined his head. "I am free to roam the land all I like."

"We need a mage, come with us," Lena smiled at him. Cyril was a good mage.

"Come with you to do what? I prefer to avoid battle, as you well know. And this means avoid dragon-chasing Arisen."

"We need a mage, Cyr."

"You've got Scorpio."

"We also need a fighter and a sorcerer, and brilliant though he is, Scorpio cannot be a mage as well." Lena put on her stubborn face. "And I'm not bothering Rook again, he really earned some time with his wife now."

"Rook got married, I heard," Cyril nodded and whistled. "You don't see a pawn getting married every day... Well, you pretty much never see a pawn getting married... Rook's always been an odd one out."

"I wonder how Scarlet is doing," Lena sighed. "I haven't seen her in ages."

"Scarlet's been forfeit," Cyril said softly. "And her Arisen died of old age... Yes, it can happen to those that give up chasing the dragon. Their hearts die, and Arisen start ageing and eventually die as well."

"Does it mean that Scarlet is no longer a pawn? Like Selene back in Gransys? Through the Transference of Souls ritual?"

"No, Scarlet is still a pawn," Cyril sighed. "She was forfeit long before her Arisen died... There was no soul transference, since she wasn't wanted."

"Good grief... That is awful," Lena shook her head, looking into the distance. "I just hope Scarlet won't end up in the Everfall or on the Bitterblack Isle like the pawns we met there..."

"That is entirely possible," Cyril nodded. "She cannot walk the worlds now, she can only walk the Rift... which means the Everfall or the Bitterblack Isle... or just float in the mist until her soul dissolves into the Void..."

They sat in silence, looking into the distance.

"Come with us, Cyril," Scorpio said softly after a while. "Lest your soul starts dissolving into the Void as well."

"Hmm... Perhaps I should..." He looked at Scorpio. "I've heard what happened to you here... Wounds like that never really heal. Unless... well... I don't really know what I'm talking about. But there is knowledge here in Battahl, long lost to the ages. You've seen carved panels here and there, old archeologists carved reports of their discoveries on them. Discoveries of antique artefacts and knowledge. They speak of Godsway of course."

"We've seen such panels," Lena nodded. "Never found any Godsway next to any of them though..."

"Perhaps it's not Godsway itself but the knowledge relating to it that we should seek," Scorpio looked at her. "Why did those archeologists carve their reports on stone tablets dotting the landscape rather than just write them on a piece of parchment?"

"They also wrote them on pieces of parchment, I found one or the other fragment in Phaesus' laboratories," Lena nodded. "There was some political upheaval, and those archeologists were declared traitors to Battahl, they were tortured, and the ones that survived the torture were executed... I found some diaries too... They didn't seem to understand what they were being accused of or why, and so couldn't give the right answers to the inquisitors to make the torture stop..."

"Godsway is a forbidden topic, any research into it eventually carries a death sentence, they knew what they were doing," Cyril turned to look at a guilded door set into the rock some distance away from them. "Why do you think they call it the Forbidden Magic? It is only in Battahl that you can have a public building called 'The Forbidden Magic Laboratory' quite well-known in the capital, with a corridor connecting to the Imperial Palace, yet pretend that it doesn't exist," he smirked. "Lord Phaesus is an interesting man."

"Lord Phaesus didn't build it, he merely took possession of it," Lena objected. "The laboratory has been there for millennia."

"Housing doting old mages who could hardly cast a fireball," Cyril scoffed. "The building's been there, aye. It's as old as the Imperial Palace, both were carved into the rock as one complex. Nobody knows by whose design or why... It could be just glorified servants' quarters for all we know. Or a fighting arena."

"The laboratory is a dragon trap," Lena shook her head. "It's open at the top. You lure a dragon into it, and once it's inside, its wing span prevents it from flying through that same channel out again. The same way as you catch wasps and other insects in a clay pot with some honey in it." She laughed, picturing a dragon reduced to a wasp.

"You didn't kill Lord Phaesus," Cyril observed.

"No, I still have need of him," Lena nodded, but didn't elaborate.

The conversation died down again. Someone walked past, the city was buzzing with activity day and night, like a beehive, or perhaps a wasp nest... Three people were sitting on the edge of a cliff occasionally throwing pebbles into the water below. The night fell and the stars above were gazing at them from the depths of the Void.

[Lena Wolf]

Last Seed, 4E204 - Ad Astra Ultra

"Ego sum dominus tuus nunc," the dragon held Scorpio in its hand. "Ascendens occides!"

"Scorpio is possessed! Watch out!" Cyril shot a fireball at Scorpio just as the dragon gently set him down.

"Cyril! Nooooo!!!" Lena rushed towards him, but it was too late - Scorpio had already retaliated, and his fireballs were rather stronger than Cyril's. Cyril was sinking into the lava, singed on all sides.

"Leave me, I'll manage," Cyril wasn't giving up, he was still able to cast spells, the lava being firm enough to carry his weight. "My ankles may burn but I'll see it through. You have to kill Scorpio, and quickly."

"Easier said than done..." Lena watched Juri throw herself at Scorpio, but her sword pierced empty space - the sorcerer was hovering above her. Levitation. And he could also cast spells from ten feet above ground, which he proceeded to demonstrate, hitting Lena with a blizzard, also catching Cyril into its freezing circle.

"Move away as soon as you can," Cyril was saying with difficulty. "He will summon meteors next, or else a tornado. We won't survive that. At least let's not die all at once."

Dragons could possess pawns making them switch sides in battle, that was well known. All the skills that the pawns had developed in service of their Arisen, were now used against that Arisen, so it was particularly bad if the pawn was the Arisen's main pawn rather than one of the hired ones. Scorpio knew everything about Lena, her weaknesses and insecurities, and he was going to exploit them under the influence of the dragon. "He expects me to rush to Cyril's aid come what may," Lena thought. "And then he'll get us both together." She shook her head. At least she too knew all Scorpio's strengths and weaknesses, she knew how he thought, and she had to use it against him. But at the same time... she wasn't possessed, she could not do something she would regret and claim that someone made her do it. Scorpio would remember everything, would he forgive her if she was particularly mean? She had to kill him, yes, that was the only way to end possession, but it was how she was going to achieve it, that mattered now. She still had to be able to live with herself after the battle was over.

And in the meantime there was of course also the dragon. The dragon that was doing its best to kill them all, Scorpio included, when he was no longer needed. The dragon that was not wasting a moment and was now burning them all with its fire breath.

"Dragon first," Lena thought, jerking her head towards Cyril, trying to make him understand that he should be healing himself and Juri, and leave Lena to her own devices. After all, she had a bag full of potions. She stepped away from Cyril when the stiffness from the frostbite allowed her to move, and knocked on a poisoned arrow. That one was for the dragon. Its heart was exposed, and any hit at it would be felt keenly. She loosed the arrow and knocked on another. She didn't think a mere double dose of poison would send the dragon into the fulminant state, but it was worth a try. With the dragon reeling in pain, her next arrow was for Scorpio.

"Plain, not poisoned," she reflected. "Interrupt his spellcasting, get him down to the ground, then go on daggers." She drew the string as taught as she dared, and let go. The dragon flapped its wings, and the arrow missed its mark. Huge boulders started raining from the sky as Scorpio made the earth erupt right where Lena stood. She was propelled into the air, then smashed down into the ground by a falling rock. She heard Cyril cry out, then all went quiet.

"That was too easy, Dragonborn," the dragon's mocking voice spoke in her head. "Your pawn is a better sorcerer than you are an archer."

"Of course he is!" Lena heard her angry voice reply. "But I am not done yet, dragon. You may possess him... but can you look into his soul?"

"Arise, Assassin!" Sharp, searing pain and a blinding white light permeated Lena's whole being as the dust of a crushed wakestone slithered through Scorpio's fingers. "I cannot lose you now, dragon or no dragon. But what I do next... I cannot control."

Assassin. Of all the names and titles that he could call her, he chose that one. Did it reflect Lena's true self? Or was it simply a hint as to what she should do? An assassin always acts to her best advantage. "This is no time for chivalry," Lena nodded to herself when the white light subsided and she could see again. Scorpio was within reach, his spell not yet incanted... Lena threw out a snare pulling him down to the ground, they tumbled as she could not stand yet, but she got on top, her dagger ready to pierce his heart... Her amber eyes met his silvery grey, now turned red with the dragon's possession. Was that Dragonsplague?

"You have to kill your pawn to end possession," she heard the dragon's voice in her head again. "But I have gleaned into his soul... and I've seen yours in it. His heart is yours as your soul is his... Dare you pierce his heart?"

"But he is a pawn... he won't perish..." Lena's dagger trembled.

"Are you certain? You lost him once already..." The dragon's voice trailed off, as if the dragon was flying away.

"Grigori!" Lena suddenly realised just which dragon was speaking to her inside her head. It wasn't the drake that was now breathing fire at Cyril and Juri. It was Grigori, the dragon serving the Legion, the dragon that Lena had to face in order to regain her heart. Would a dagger through the heart be one of those things that could kill a pawn outright?

She blinked. Since pawn immortality was rooted in magic, it was impossible to predict what would happen. Dared she test it? What choice did she have?

Scorpio's red glowing eyes were looking at her devoid of all expression. It wasn't just Godsway that could bend a pawn's will; compared to this possession, Godsway was only a poor imitation. Which it probably was... Lena just realised that she was looking at the very magic that made people into pawns, the same magic that animated her own body, making it live without the heart. That magic was now turning her friend against her.

"I got him back once, I shall do it again if need be," she told herself. "This Dragonsplague has to end now, or else it will consume him completely. He's still in there somewhere, behind the possession, he revived me just now... 'Assassin', he said... Indeed." She steadied her hand and thrust her dagger between his ribs and through his heart.

Scorpio went limp and closed his eyes. Lena noticed the red glow subsiding. She hoped that when he opened his eyes again, she would see silvery grey.

A puddle of greenish light spread over Scorpio - the usual sign of a pawn that lay dead waiting for the Arisen to revive him. The puddle was steadily shrinking - when it was gone, the pawn would return to the Rift. She sheathed her dagger and lay her hands over the wound she had just inflicted. "Come back to me," she said, pressing it down. For a few moments nothing was happening, all she saw was the puddle of light shrinking rapidly. If Scorpio didn't wake up before the puddle ran out... She didn't want to think about that. She was just repeating in her mind those words - "come back to me". Then finally she felt a heartbeat. The puddle of light shrank into a point and vanished, and Scorpio opened his eyes, silvery grey as always.

"You understood me then," he smiled. "I would have preferred to be thrown off a cliff with no wounds to heal, but there's no cliff around here, and beggars cannot be choosers..."

"I wasn't sure..."

"But you did it anyway," he squeezed her shoulder as a sign of support. "Come on, get up. The drake is still here, the battle continues."

The drake was hovering over them, incanting a spell. Juri lay dead on burning lava, her own puddle of light steadily shrinking. Cyril was casting healing magic at Lena, he was still standing on the edge of a lava pool, his ankles charred. Why was he casting healing at Lena? Did she not have a bag full of potions? She did, but there was no time to stop to drink one. Besides, she didn't even notice her health dwindling in the dragon's fire while she hesitated with her dagger poised at Scorpio's heart. She felt the slight tickling of Cyril's spell, jumped up and rushed over to Juri before her puddle of light ran out. Scorpio was back and the battle continued.

...

"This drake took more out of us than was safe," Cyril stood next to Lena when the drake was finally slain. "We are all badly injured. You died three times. Scorpio's wound must have reopened - just look at him, he can barely stand... Possession leaves its traces on us pawns."

"Drakes are never easy," Lena nodded. "The camp isn't that far away, let's hope we can get there without too much trouble..."

"That's unrealistic," Cyril shook his head. "There will be monsters along the way, it's the middle of the night and we can't see where we're going. You've got a ferrystone - let's teleport out of here."

"You know I hate teleporting," it was Lena's turn to shake her head. "Especially after a fight. I'm never quite sure that each piece of me arrives at the destination and gets reassembled in the right order... In fact, I could swear it wasn't always the case... We're walking." She concluded firmly and started climbing out of the lava-filled ditch where they were fighting the drake.

"Oh I agree," Cyril muttered under his breath. "Your head definitely didn't get reassembled in the right order."

...

Cyril was of course right. The road was plagued by monsters, but they managed - somehow their wounds made them focus more. Finally the gates of the fortified army camp were in sight, and they picked up their pace wanting to be inside as soon as possible.

Wham! Lena went flying, landing a distance away and hitting her head on the rocks. Thump! Someone else landed not far from her... The sight of the gates to the camp made them drop their guard, and they were now paying for it. As near as the gates were, they still had to get through a horde of monsters to reach them.

"That is an armoured cyclops," Juri rose from the rocks next to Lena. "I dropped my guard too, unforgivable really. Won't happen again!" And with that she charged the cyclops.

"No, wait!" Lena tried to stop her, but Juri wasn't listening. "Hot headed as well as stubborn," Lena shook her head. "Like someone else I know..." she smirked, knocking on a poisoned arrow. An armoured cyclops presented a significant challenge, but it was nothing compared to the drake they just defeated. Perhaps they underestimated it, and were now reminded that being squashed by a giant club, stomped and sat upon by a monster of that size, was not something to be taken lightly. Lena stayed in the same spot for too long, loosing arrow after arrow, she annoyed the cyclops and got noticed, it turned towards her, swung its club and took a step or two... A couple of steps was all that was needed for the cyclops to be on top of Lena, squashing and stomping her, and she was crushed and could not even crawl.

"You must remain cautious!" Scorpio was pulling her from under the cyclops. "A cyclops may not be the toughest of monsters, but it will kill you all the same if you drop your guard! Get onto those rocks..."

"No!!!" While Scorpio was dragging Lena out of danger, he dropped his guard... Several wargs jumped out of nowhere, triple the size of wolves, they liked to snatch their prey and carry it away, and one of them now snatched Scorpio, an easy target that he was, trying to help Lena. She charged after the warg, but that was pointless - wargs were much too fast. She knocked on an arrow and sent it after the warg, not really aiming, and not being able to aim in the dark, just shooting several arrows in the warg's general direction...

"Watch out for that mage!" She heard Cyril scream from a distance. "She's casting frost spells! She can freeze you solid!" Lena turned to his voice - he wasn't talking to her, he was trying to warn Juri who was climbing up onto the cyclops in full view of some bandit mage who decided to practice frost spells on her... Lena watched a white projectile fly towards Juri, hit her and cover her and the cyclops in a layer of ice. Juri fell off and a puddle of greenish light appeared over her lifeless body.

"Oh no!" Lena rushed into the fray. The mage first. She didn't bother with arrows, she sprinted, threw a snare, then plunged her daggers into the mage's chest. No more frost spells. Juri was next - Lena rushed to her, quickly pulling her from under the feet of the sluggish cyclops, but it would not take long for it to recover from the frost - she had to hurry. She ran, carrying Juri over her shoulder... it felt like a crawl. She carried her as far as she dared, a few steps away from the cyclops would suffice, she only needed a few moments to revive Juri.

"Thank you, master," Juri jumped up - and charged the cyclops again...

"Help me!!" Cyril's voice was trailing off - a warg snatched him and disappeared into the night. Lena's heart fell - at the same time she felt Scorpio die, carried off by a warg as well...

She ran after the wargs. She didn't know where she was going, it was dark and her lantern only showed her rocks. Where did the wargs come from? There must be a lair nearby, they would be dragging their prey to their lair. She saw one shaking its head, it had something - someone! - in its jaws. Cyril or Scorpio, or even one of the bandits, she could not tell. She charged the warg, her daggers extended, the warg was momentarily distracted, she jumped it and slit open its belly. It fell, covering Lena in hot blood and entrails... A dagger aiming for Lena's throat slid on the slime. The prey was a bandit who was now going for Lena.

"I'll take all you've got!" He shouted, taking another swing, but Lena rolled away.

"Are you mad?! I've got no time for you!!" Another snare, and he slumped under her feet, his neck snapped. "Where are they?" Lena looked around, not seeing any more wargs, not knowing where Cyril or Scorpio were taken to. It would not be far away, wargs never dragged their prey too far away... She felt another tug at her soul - Scorpio's greenish light was dwindling, his time was running out, but she could not find him, she could not see that greenish light anywhere... She started to panic, frantically peering into the darkness, she extinguished her lantern so as to see the faintest reflection of a greenish light...

There - she spotted it! Just to the side, behind some rocks! She dashed, she got to him, pressed her hands to his chest, it only took a few moments to revive a pawn... "Ouch!" She had dropped her guard and was now herself being carried away by a warg...

She felt the final tug at her soul - Scorpio had returned to the Rift. She did not get to him in time.

"Take that, you foul beast!!" Juri got the warg that was chewing on Lena. Cyril cast a healing spell.

"We've cleared the wargs, but the cyclops is still raging," he said quietly. "At least the bandits are keeping it occupied for now, but they'll switch to us as soon as we approach - the cyclops isn't carrying anything of value. We, on the other hand..."

"Yeah, I met one of them already," Lena nodded. "Let's join in the fun. Scorpio... I was too late." She almost whispered those last words, but Cyril and Juri heard her. They nodded and turned towards the battle.

"The camp is just past the cyclops," Juri said as she walked. "They have a riftstone."

Lena rushed through the rest of the battle like in a haze. Her arrows were flying all over the place, and most of them found their mark, be it the cyclops, the bandits, the goblins, the hobgoblins, the succubi or the venom harpies... It really felt as if Hell itself descended onto that little patch of land in front of the gates to the camp. Both Juri and Cyril fell several times and had to be revived. Lena came that close to dying herself all too often, but always managed to take a swig from one of the potions just in time. When the final beast was slain, you could not see the rocks for the bodies. Several guards were among the fallen as well.

"Why have a camp here?" Lena pulled a guard's body from under a pile of goblins. "This is such a dangerous place."

"It is the stronghold on this volcanic island," Juri gently took her arm and lifted her up. "Let's go inside. The soldiers here know what they signed up for.

...

Lena touched the riftstone and Scorpio stepped out of the mist of the Rift. He did not say anything. He hugged her tightly. She pressed her ear to his chest, feeling and hearing his heartbeat. She also felt warm blood run down his leg - his wound had reopened.

"If you die while I am in the Rift, I won't be able to revive you," Scorpio said in a barely audible whisper.

"If I die while you are in the Rift, you will be forfeit," Lena answered just as softly.

"I have seen the lights of the Black City. But I have not heard its call."

"Ad astra ultra - to the stars and beyond, as Grigori always says... I'll come for you."

"Ad astra ultra... Grigori returned to the Black City. I have seen it through his eyes."

"The Dread Father awaits us all..."

"But he is not in a hurry. Our time has not yet come."

"We are not done yet." Lena nodded and looked up, meeting the silvery grey of Scorpio's eyes, still reflecting the mists of the Rift and the lights of the Black City far in the distance.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Jul 4 2024, 02:20 AM

[Lena Wolf]

Last Seed, 4E204 - Choices

"You promised to come with me!" Glyndwr looked at Lena with scorn. "Not to return to your house to do... what exactly?"

"To prepare for the journey," Lena looked up, trying to hide her annoyance. "You wanted to go half way across Vermund. That'll take several days, and there aren't any villages along the way for us to restock. We have to be ready."

"You don't see me carrying a pack filled with everything and anything!" He rolled his eyes and stomped about a bit, like a twelve year old. "And I've been on the road every day of the past month, I'll have you know!"

Scorpio stood quietly holding up their bags while Lena was packing the bare necessities from their supply chest. Potions, salves, lamp oil, and arrows - lots of arrows. She was primarily an archer, switching to daggers for that personal touch.

"I would like to stay alive," Lena shot a glance at Scorpio and he smirked, equally quietly. "The difference is that now, with a party of five, we won't be able to sneak past any monsters and will face battle on every corner. It is quite different from your solitary strolls - don't they say that an elf blends in with the forest? You probably don't spook every ogre in the viscinity when you are alone."

"I wish you didn't have pawns with you wherever you go," Glyndwr scoffed and shot Scorpio an irritated glance.

"I don't have them with me wherever I go," Lena gave him a stern look. "You know how things stand. You wanted to cross the wilderness but I have a price on my head. Without pawns, I won't survive."

"But I will protect you!" Glyndwr exclaimed with poorly concealed eagerness and blushed.

"You are an excellent archer," Lena tried not to insult him. "But between the two of us we could not take on a dozen of bandits or mercenaries, or a large monster, or a dragon. Yes, a dragon. They tend to seek me out because I'm an Arisen. Walking with me is a very different affair than walking on your own, my friend."

"I'll never get to know you with them around!" Again, he shot a spiteful glance towards Scorpio who was now starting to get annoyed.

What Lena wanted to say would put Glyndwr in his place but would also undoubtedly insult him. "If you want to get to know me that way, rent us a room at The Rose," she thought. Glyndwr was young for an elf - just a hundred years old, and Lena wondered how maturing scaled up between humans and elves. He acted as a child sometimes, but he was no child any longer. He was jealous of Scorpio - feverishly jealous of him, as it appeared, and he wanted to believe that Lena could never prefer a pawn to a "real" person, even though he was smart enough to know better. It was a case of wishful thinking fueled by desire and jealousy, Lena thought.

"Ah, so you actually wanted to spend some time alone with me!" Lena smiled brightly. "That's perfectly understandable - some conversations need privacy. But that cannot be done while strolling through the countryside because of all the fights and the monsters! Alas, such is the life of an Arisen!" She paused, watching the effect of her words on Glyndwr. He seemed to calm down a bit. "So, do you still want to go on a trip? Or do you rather prefer to arrange for a quiet dinner here in town so that you and I could get to know each other without the pawns?"

"I am an elf, you are a human, I cannot take you out to dinner," Glyndwr sighed. "Not here in Vernworth, not back at the Sacred Arbour. The best I could hope for then is to spend the night with you at The Rose..." He paused and Lena looked up. He wasn't blushing, this was a child no longer! "But that would lead nowhere... The only elf that I know of who married a non-elf - a dwarf, I believe - lives out in the wilderness, completely cut off of all society. That's not the life I want for myself. My father would never approve of you... both on the account of you being human and keeping company of pawns..." He shook his head and sighed again. "I don't even know what I'm doing here. This is pointless..." He sighed again, now looking forlorn.

"Let's go on this trip," Lena said firmly. "The pawns are my entourage and are very much a part of who I am. In particular, Scorpio and I are very close. And, in another world, I am married to another man. You didn't know that, I suppose. I am double your age, and then some. I can tell you all this and more, if you want to hear it. So, it is indeed going nowhere... if by that you mean marriage. But whether or not it means that we should not spend any time together... you decide."

Glyndwr stared at her, those were not the words he expected to hear. She was giving him a chance to withdraw with his dignity mostly intact. She was double his age... but she looked in her twenties! And although Glyndwr realised that Lena must have been older than that, he estimated her to be in her thirties... still so much younger than he, as all humans now were. "In another world..." he noticed Lena saying something about another world. "Oh, married to another man... not this pawn then," Glyndwr felt vindicated. "Yet they are close... But that can't mean much if she's married to someone else. At least this pawn isn't getting her either!" He blushed as he realised that his thinking wasn't very mature. "Let's get going," he said aloud. "It's a long trip, as you say. We'll see how it goes."

...

"What did your father say when you came home with this human-made bow?" Lena struck up a conversation with Glyndwr when the road seemed peaceful. She first met him standing in front of an archery shop in Vernworth admiring human-made bows. She said hello to him and it transpired that he wasn't good enough at archery with an elven-made bow, and so he wondered whether a bow of a foreign make would be better. Yet it would be unbecoming for an elf to buy a human-made bow... and so all he could ever do was stand in front of the shop looking at them. Lena was buying some things for herself at the time, and noticed the shop keeper feeling uneasy with an elf in front of his shop staring at his goods, day in, day out... So, to solve this conundrum, Lena gave Glyndwr a human-made hunting bow. Just like that. Glyndwr was so taken by her kindness, that he practically melted then and there. And when he practiced later, he found his precision much improved. Yet it was the "wrong" bow of a "wrong" make, and it was still a big question whether his father would even allow such a heresy in Sacred Arbour, let alone in his son's hands... Which came a long way to explain why Glyndwr liked to practice away from home. He was an oddball for certain, yet wanted to be regular and accepted among the elves... and at the same time he wanted to befriend an Arisen, who not only used foreign bows, but was a human and kept company of pawns, all those things considered improper in the elven society. Glyndwr felt that he had to make up his mind, but the choice would be to stay among the elves and comply, or be yourself and leave home behind, forever remaining an alien among others. It wasn't an easy choice by any stretch of imagination.

"Father didn't think I had any bows with me at all," Glyndwr smirked. "Of course when later I used it to shoot an ogre in the eye who had snatched my sister, father changed his mind. Seeing that he himself, with the best elven-made bow, could only manage to hit the general direction of the ogre, not inflicting any real damage. So I am now allowed to wield a human-made bow to honour that victory, but it remains an exception. This bow has thus been declared elven," he smirked, drawing his hunting bow as a pack of goblins made an appearance from behind the next hill.

"All right," Lena smirked as well. "Just don't bring any other human-made bows home, as they might not be elven enough."

"What is it that you are wielding?" Glyndwr noticed an unusal bow in Lena's hands. "That doesn't look elven or human to me."

"I don't know, perhaps it's Battahli?" Lena shrugged, turning over the bow. "We found it in a treasure chest in one of the caves. The pawns said it was very rare, they hardly see them on their travels. Perhaps it comes from another world even... who is to tell."

"Something is etched on it," Glyndwr noticed. "There's a drawing of a flying creature... a griffin or even a dragon... and some writing, but I don't know the script..."

"It's called 'Darkening Storm'," Lena said.

"You can read it? What language is this?"

"I can't rightly read it..." Lena peered into the letters for the first time. "I know what it's called because it told me..."

"You talk to your bow? And it talks back?" Glyndwr wasn't sure what to think. They didn't have a drop of alcohol all day.

"Tell is, these bows were dipped in dragon blood..." Scorpio said looking over Lena's shoulder. "Or that they have a piece of a dragon's soul in them. Probably neither, but if the bow told you its name, then it must have something to do with dragons. Isn't that dragon script, by the way?"

"It is dragon script, yes," Lena nodded. "But it changes nothing... Dragon language is not read off a page like other languages. It communicates in a mystical way that I can't explain. It's the same as reading words of power off a word wall... It just comes to me."

"She is Dragonborn," Scorpio turned to Glyndwr. "Related to dragons somehow. But all Arisen are already related to dragons because a dragon holds their hearts... But anyway, that's the connection. Wolf is neither drunk nor mad," he added with a smirk.

"Wow, a dragon bow!" Glyndwr was fascinated. "Would it respond to me, do you think? Could I hold it just for a moment?" His eyes were burning with excitement.

"Here, have a go," Lena laughed. "A fresh batch of goblins is coming to play for your pleasure."

It didn't take long and the goblins were routed. Glyndwr returned the bow back to Lena.

"It doesn't seem any better than my ordinary hunting bow here..." He sounded disappointed.

"But you hit every goblin! Your aim was perfect!" Lena exclaimed in surprise.

"As it was also with the hunting bow, my point exactly," Glyndwr nodded. "I don't know what I expected. It just didn't feel special."

"Then perhaps you need to be an Arisen or a Dragonborn to feel it," Cyril joined in. "Interesting."

"If you continue this way, doing odd things and walking an odd path, the dragon will end up picking you too next time he comes around," Lena returned the Darkening Storm bow to its holder on her back and felt a pleasant thud like a pat on her shoulder. "You elves live long enough to witness many comings of the dragon. I am surprised not more of you became Arisen over time."

"We elves stay away from dragons," Glyndwr said darkly. "Or griffins, meduses, ogres, cyclopi, harpies, goblins, and so on. We keep our heads down and mind our own business. A dragon never attacked Sacred Arbour, yet. And if he did, there'd be hardly anyone to stand up to him, everyone would just accept it as a force of nature and scatter. We are not Arisen material."

"You sound like you might be the exception," Lena smiled. "Like that elven woman who married a dwarf. I met her, she is an old Arisen herself."

"Can you introduce me? I'd like to meet her," Glyndwr looked up.

"If you really want to... it's out in Battahl. And she's rather grumpy and doesn't like visitors..."

"She sounds like an elf..."

[Renee]

Doesn't seem like Lena reads my stories anymore, but that's okay. Am curious where Lena's off to next.

Whoa, she's in Hammerfell?? You got Hammerfell in your gameworld?? Ooh, can't wait to see where this goes...

The interplay between Lena & Geralt is charming. They do come across as bro & sis. Right? Geralt is her brother? (testing my poor memory skills...)

Wow, I love that settlement. The walls seem sort of lo-res, but this actually adds to the feeling of a different province.

Ha, they sleep on the floor! I've been in the habit of adding bedrolls into inns, in Cyrodiil, Morrowind, and Skyrim. I love seeing NPCs using them, ya know?

Bookmark

[Lena Wolf]

I read Laprima's story, but you are having a break on that one. I don't like Fallout... Sorry. Nothing to do with your stories, I just really don't like the post-apocalyptic setting, so won't read any stories set in that world.

Whoa, she's in Hammerfell?? blink.gif You got Hammerfell in your gameworld??

TWMP Hammerfell, a TWMP version of Brendan's "Hammerfell". It fills in the Southern part, not the whole province. It is considered not lore friendly, but it is a beautiful version of Hammerfell. Plus, it's the only one that works.

[Lena Wolf]

Hearthfire, 4E204 - Brother

"What is it like being a pawn?" Lamond spoke softly watching Lena chase some wolves away from the campsite.

"It sucks," Scorpio replied automatically. "Immortality is a curse."

"I suppose it's worse for you..."

"What?" Scorpio pulled himself back into the moment. "Oh. It's different for us pawns, we don't even have the concept of time like normal people. Constantly being called away for duty elsewhere, then returning to the morning of the same day, having walked with another Arisen for days or weeks..."

"Sounds mind boggling," Lamond shivered.

"You get used to it... It all depends on the Arisen... She is my rock."

"I didn't turn out much of a rock for my pawn..." Lamond's voice trailed off.

"It wasn't your fault though, was it?" Scorpio looked at him. "Petrification? That kills a pawn outright."

"But I didn't bring him back."

"Giving a piece of your soul is not something people normally do," Scorpio said in a near whisper.

"Well, have you not set up the tent yet?" Lena returned to the camp. "Such as it is..."

Setting up the tent didn't take long. It wasn't much of a tent, to be quite honest, but a piece of cloth not capable of protecting even a single person from the rain.

"It is fortunate that it doesn't rain all that much in the desert," Cyril smiled when Lena once again shook her head at such an inadequate "Elite Camping Kit". "Never mind. What's for dinner? Have we any meat?"

"Deer are not abundant here either," Lena hesitated between several chunks of meat emerging from their packs. "What do you fancy - saurian tail or harpy breast?"

"Ugh..."

"Air dried venison then," she settled on a chunk of preserve instead, to everyone's relief.

They've had a good couple of days so far, fights were abundant but not too hard, and although the medusa did land a few hits on each of them, it too was soon defeated. They should have really made camp before fighting the medusa - it wasn't an easy foe to kill. But Lamond was driven to it, he vowed to go after it alone if his companions needed rest... and of course that would have been the end of him - the medusa was not to be taken lightly.

"And again I didn't manage to cut off its head," Lamond sighed when the conversation turned to it.

"How many medusae have you slain so far?" Lena looked up, wondering how long ago has it been that Lamond's pawn was petrified by a medusa.

"Not enough," Lamond replied darkly. "Nasty beasts they are..."

"But we got it, even without cutting off its head," Lena tried to cheer him up. "Even despite its magic bow."

"Which you left behind!" Lamond looked up, surprised. "Do you even know how much it's worth? A fortune, and not a small one! But most people who manage to get a medusa bow, keep it for themselves! Why didn't you?"

"It's heavy," Lena shrugged. "Way too heavy, in fact. Probably just right for a medusa, but not good for me."

"But the magic?"

"Oh, yes - it multiplies your experience. Oh come on. I've lived over two hundred years. I don't need a bow that makes me age faster than I already do!"

Everyone laughed at that, because of course years didn't have any meaning to any of them.

The conversation died down, letting the battles of the day fizzle out. After a while, Lamond broke the silence.

"It's good to have you around, sis," he said looking into the fire. "Gets me off the newt liqueur for a time..."

"I'm glad to have met you," Lena nodded. "We seem to be of the same mind... There aren't many Arisen around, and the other ones are all a bit... odd. One way or the other."

"Like they don't give a damn for the pawns," Lamond squinted at her. "That's why we are all failed Arisen. All, except you."

"You would have made it too, you know," Lena said quietly. "If your pawn hadn't perished."

"But there you have it," Lamond shook his head. "I failed my test. Forgive me, but didn't you lose yours very early on as well? But you got him back."

"I did..." Lena stared into the flames. "I just couldn't accept it... Didn't want to accept it... I'm too stubborn, I guess."

"No, I think there is more to it," Lamond looked up. "I mean, oh yes, sister, you are stubborn! And then some!" He smirked. "But that's not the point. They give you a pawn right at the start, you start building a bond, and then they lure you to some impossible task with a high probability that your pawn will be lost... Most Arisen then simply pick another, and therein lies their doom. That's my theory, anyway. My second pawn didn't have his heart in it like the first."

"You think they're setting us up?" Lena wasn't quite sure.

"They keep testing us, don't they? From one task to the next... Show the strength of your resolve over and over. Most Arisen give up somewhere along the way, but those that don't, then get their pawn taken away, all in order to break them."

"What happened to that fellow around here that is obsessed with chasing drakes?" Lena suddenly remembered another old Arisen that she met along the way. "What happened to his pawn?"

"I don't know," Lamond shrugged. "Abandoned, perhaps?"

"Abandoned," Cyril said softly. "I've heard of him."

They kept quiet for a minute, as if keeping silence in honour of the abandoned pawn. Then Lena declared the meat to be ready to eat and started slicing it.

"There's no point lamenting past mistakes," she looked at Lamond with significance. "They only hold you back."

...

Lamond was spending his days watching the steam rise from the pool at the volcanic springs on the Agamen island. His mind was wandering from one memory to the next, spurred on by the newt liqueur that somehow always made its way into his hands. Every now and again he would take up his Flamberge Zweihänder and go out into the desert of Battahl to slay monsters for their skins or to liberate treasures from bandit hideouts. And if one of those monsters was a medusa, so for the better. Unlike Sigurd who was constantly seeking out drakes, Lamond wasn't searching for the medusae, but whenever he came across one, he made it a point to slay it, preferably by cutting off its head. The severed head could then be used to petrify another victim... and Lamond's hope was that one day he would be able to petrify a medusa with another medusa's severed head. May be then he could finally consider his perished pawn vindicated.

When Lamond heard that Lena was in Battahl again, he thought that perhaps traveling together for a time would do both of them some good, especially since Lena seemed to be getting mired deeper and deeper in the mystique of the Dragon's Dogma. He didn't really mind where they were going, and Lena didn't seem to have a goal... Something had to change.

"The Flamebearer's Throne rose from the sea again, we have to go see Rothias," Lena looked at her companions in turn after another visit to the oracle. "Pointless as it seems..."

"This world goes in cycles, this is the part where you get your personal Godsbane," Scorpio nodded.

"Except this time there will be two Arisen standing before him," Lamond pointed out. "I wonder what he is going to do."

...

"You! Usurper of my throne!" Rothias was his usual charming self when they entered the shrine that kept him captive. "They keep sending minions to kill me! Well, you cannot kill me! This fight will be over before it even began!"

"Hello, Rothias, nice to see you are keeping well," Lena smirked. "You can keep your throne, I am not looking for a fight."

"Oh, it's you again," Rothias squinted - his eyesight seemed to be failing after all that time. "Here for your personal Godsbane? Have you not put the other one to use yet?"

"I have not, no," Lena shook her head. "So you are going to hand it to me again, I presume."

"Here you go." Rothias produced an ice blue sword from thin air in front of his chest, it looked as if he pulled it out of his chest, in fact...

"You made more of an effort to put on a show the first time we met," Lena laughed, stashing the Godsbane in her pack. "I guess it gets old after so many times repeating it."

"And you handled it with more reverence last time," Rothias retorted. "It's my soul, don't you know!"

"No, it's not."

"Well, may be not as such... But definitely metaphorically speaking!" He shrieked with laughter.

"You haven't changed a bit," Lamond stepped into the light. "How many of those Godsbane swords have you given out? Was it your own idea or did the Legion make you do it?"

"And who are you?" Rothias spun around to look at Lamond. "Ahhh... I remember. A failed Arisen. At least you got as far as coming to see me... at least you tried to slay your dragon... not like some... Well, what are you waiting for? You've got your Godsbane, you know what to do!"

Lamond glared and put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"No," Lena stopped him. "We don't want to fight him. He is but a ghost, you cannot kill him, and he will kill you just as surely as your personal Godsbane. It's another trap, Lamond."

Rothias laughed derisively as Lena pulled Lamond out of the circle of light and up the stairs where Scorpio and Cyril were waiting.

"Let's go," Cyril said softly to Lamond. "We have no business here."

...

"What are you going to do this time, sister?" Lamond looked at Lena when they made camp on the beach. "You know the plot. You'll take that Godsbane to Phaesus, he'll summon a drake proclaiming it to be the dragon... Then your actual dragon will appear and whisk you away some place safe to do real battle... Upon which you will not get back your heart and the cycle will restart. It's pointless, if you ask me."

"Is that why you gave up?" Lena looked up.

"I didn't have a choice, I failed to slay my dragon," Lamond reminded her. "He simply flew off... I wasn't strong enough. Or may be I didn't have my heart in it..."

"No, that's the Dragonforged," Lena shook her head. "He told me that when the dragon breathed fire at him, he just turned around and ran... His will was burned to a crisp even if his body survived."

"Mmm... Well, there are many ways to fail that test with the dragon, death included," Lamond brushed off the topic. "But you are evading my question: what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Lena sighed. "I am getting mired deeper and deeper in this story, in this world... without my heart and without a way to get back to Tamriel. I am hesitant to battle the dragon this time because it will reset the cycle... I feel somehow that this point - just before the final battle - is where I have a chance to break out, to break my personal Dragon's Dogma. I just need to figure out how to do it..."

"Grigori is the key," Scorpio said quietly. "I've seen the Black City through his eyes... Well, I've seen the gates to the Black City. I think this is where the power of the Legion resides, deep inside the Void."

"May be I should go to the fight then," Lena mused. "Grigori could take me there."

"And then what?" Scorpio shook his head. "Firstly, he is not likely to do it, and secondly, even if he does, you won't be able to fight anyone there, have no illusions. Besides, if you do that, you will die instantly since it's their magic that keeps you alive."

"So what do you propose?" Lena looked up but Scorpio didn't have an answer to give. "I am well and truly mired in it then..." Her face fell.

"There are powers bigger than the Arisen," Cyril gave her a long look. "You have to arrange yourself with them until you are strong enough to push for a change. Decide what it is that you want most, and try to find ways to achieve it."

"I want to return to Tamriel," Lena said without thinking. "I've had enough of doing the same thing over and over in the world of Dragon's Dogma... and I want Scorpio to come with me. It's time to go home."

"And your heart..?" Scorpio fixed her with her gaze, this was a significant change in attitude.

"My heart... Yes, I want it back. But now this comes second." Lena straightened her back. She suddenly realised that indeed her attitude had changed.

"Then you know what to do, sister," Lamond smiled. "It won't be easy and you may have to face Grigori for it, but you know what you want... I'll miss having you here in Battahl, but I wish you luck getting home. I'll make sure the place is not overrun with medusae, should you return some day... as I feel you will... I wish you luck finding a way."

The night fell while they were talking, with a myriad of stars looking down on them from a cloudless sky. Were the same stars looking down on Tamriel? Masser and Secunda weren't visible in Battahl, but the stars seemed to be the same. And beyond the stars stretched the endless Void, with the Black City at its centre. Somehow Lena felt that the Black City was going to be important... it seemed to be calling to her... unless she imagined it... perhaps it was just Grigori calling her to the fight... Dragons were immortal beings capable of traveling from world to world through the Void. Dragons were probably the same everywhere too, just like the stars... and Lena was Dragonborn, but what did it mean exactly? Her father was Dragonborn too... Did he too walk a path with dragons? Lena could not help but wonder what her father's life had been like, before and after his service with the Imperial Legion. He stayed away after her mother's death in the hope of sparing her a tumultuous life akin to his own. Nothing came of that of course, as Lena bore the mark of the dragon. Perhaps one day she would learn what that same mark had brought into her father's life that he was so keen to spare her. She thought of Geralt who too received a mark from their father - the mark of Hircine. "He must be off to Solstheim by now, joining the Great Hunt of our era," Lena thought. "I wonder..." Her thoughts trailed off and she relaxed gazing upon the stars.

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Jul 30 2024, 03:19 PM

[Renee]

Lena was born in 3E417, Geralt was born in 3E413, their mother died in 3E421, and their father "quit" the Legion soon afterwards.

Just came across this info. That's a good thing to consider, when they were born. Especially if we spend lots of time with our people.

Whoa, Lucien just proposed. 💐 Lena's not getting googly about this, ha ha! "Mara cannot add anything which binds us already"... very true. Because think about it. They're immortal, right? Folks who are mortal have enough problems making a relationship last through all the trials & tribulations of life, and at most, the average long-term marriage usually lasts no more than 60 years, if that. But if it's considered a couple can potentially live forever, Really??? Really, these two lovers are supposed to remain together and faithful to each other forever? Especially as dynamic as Lena Wolf is, traveling all over the place?

Of course, I'm considering the typical approach us Earthlings take to marriage, the "til death do us part" bit. Don't know how it works in Tamriel; the marriage system as portrayed in Skyrim is pretty darn vague. Open-ended. But still, what if you know you're never going to die, from natural causes?

Alright, heh, I'm rambling. But yeah, she decides to marry. There we go.

Wait though? Does Lu know Lena's already pregnant? (She's still carrying, right?)

http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?s=&...st&p=340223

[Lena Wolf]

Whoa, Lucien just proposed. 💐 Lena's not getting googly about this, ha ha! "Mara cannot add anything which binds us already"... very true. Because think about it. They're immortal, right? Folks who are mortal have enough problems making a relationship last through all the trials & tribulations of life, and at most, the average long-term marriage usually lasts no more than 60 years, if that. But if it's considered a couple can potentially live forever, Really??? Really, these two lovers are supposed to remain together and faithful to each other forever? Especially as dynamic as Lena Wolf is, traveling all over the place?

Well, Lena is probably immortal because of her (partial) vampirism, but she could be permanently killed with a silver weapon. Lucien is not immortal, just long lived (if he's careful at his job). His father is a Dunmer, so Lucien inherited elven longevity. His mother died long ago, at a very respectable age of 80-something... That's a long life for an Imperial!

Lena finds Mara's teachings too strict. Not suitable for real life, as you say. Lucien doesn't care much for them either, especially considering that his mother was a Priestess of Dibella... that's a whole different Divine! But with all that, he is right that Imperial Bureaucracy outranks Mara and Dibella taken together. And Lena agrees. Gosh, she had so much trouble getting herself "resurrected" after she missed the census a few times... She wasn't marked as dead since there was no evidence of that, but she was still marked as "non-living", meaning effectively dead for all administrative purposes... And it took a lot of toil and money to get that reverted back to "alive", what with all the forms needing to be delivered in triplicate, with fees in triplicate, with bribes on top! So she is taking no chances and getting married as an upstanding citizen that she is.

Of course, I'm considering the typical approach us Earthlings take to marriage, the "til death do us part" bit. Don't know how it works in Tamriel; the marriage system as portrayed in Skyrim is pretty darn vague. Open-ended. But still, what if you know you're never going to die, from natural causes?

I would say that if you have both Mara and Dibella as Divines, with their contradictory teachings, then it is indeed pretty vague.

Alright, heh, I'm rambling. But yeah, she decides to marry. There we go.

Wait though? Does Lu know Lena's already pregnant? (She's still carrying, right?)

She is in the first half, the bump is just starting to show. Hence why Lucien decided not to wait any longer - the marriage is for the baby first and foremost. Yes, he knows that she is pregnant, in fact it was he who noticed it first (Dibella's teachings, you know). He also realises very well that there's a 50-50 chance that the child is not his. But he accepts it anyway, pledging to raise it as his own regardless. Since DNA tests were not available at the time, they won't even be certain whose child it is until he/she grows up a bit.

So yes, they are not getting married for Mara. It is for the Imperial Archives.

[Renee]

I see. Thanks for answers.

I would say that if you have both Mara and Dibella as Divines, with their contradictory teachings, then it is indeed pretty vague.

Indeed. Bethesda likes to keep things vague, and my opinion is it's good they don't fill in all the blanks.

[Lena Wolf]

Chapter 9

The Call of the Black City

Morning Star, 3E387 - Come in, Agent

"Come in, Agent." The Legate waved his hand at a youngish Legion officer who just opened the door to his room. "Dispense with formalities. Come and sit down."

The Agent entered and closed the door behind him, but still remained rather stiff - he wasn't used to dispensing with formalities in the presence of his superior officers, and it didn't get much more superior than the Legate behind a large desk of Imperial oak. The Legate noticed this and smirked, pointing at a chair on the other side of the desk.

"Sit down. I have a mission for you." He busied himself with some books and scrolls on his desk, taking his eyes off the Agent, trying to put him at ease.

When the Agent finally sat down, the Legate unrolled a scroll in front of him so that the Agent could see some of the writing.

"Agent Wolf Asgarsen of the Second Imperial Legion," the Legate fixed the Agent with his gaze and the Agent instantly straightened his back. "You have a good record, I have it right here," the Legate pointed at the scroll. "Diligent and dutiful, without reproach, skilled with your weapons and ruthless when need be - these are the qualities we are looking for. And there's more - you are Dragonborn. How did you find out?"

"We came upon a word wall in the depths of a crypt, and I could read it. I don't know how, I just could. Then I could throw that thu'um without practice. It was weak, but I could do it."

The Agent spoke in a terse tone, unsure why his peculiar heritage was important. The thu'ums that he read off word walls were neither strong nor unusual - other people could learn them too, albeit after a lengthy practice. Neither Skyrim nor the entire Tamriel had any dragons, so these remnants of their language became little more than a curious relic.

"You have never seen a dragon, never consumed a dragon soul..." The Legate was watching the Agent, nodding to his thoughts. "But the word walls prove it. You have the mark. That is why you have been chosen for this mission. What do you know of Ferelden?"

It was an unexpected question, but the Agent did not hesitate.

"It is a kingdom on the continent of Thedas on the other side of the Great Ocean," he answered from memory. "They are often at war with their neighbours - the kingdoms of Orlais and Tevinter..."

"Yes, yes," the Legate nodded, interrupting. "That they are, but they keep it between themselves. What the Emperor worries about is the Blight."

"That it might spill over to Tamriel?" The Agent's brow furrowed. "If I understand it correctly, it is a calamity when hordes of undead overrun the land, killing everything and everyone on it." He shuddered involuntarily.

"Quite." The Legate shuffled some scrolls out of the way, picking up an old book from under them. "This tome has some more details, but essentially you are correct." He handed the book to the Agent. "A true Blight is much more deadly than a mere uprising of undead because a Blight is an organised force, an army rather than a mindless mob, led by an Archdemon who is a dragon."

"Ah!"

"Indeed." The Legate sighed gravely. "We have reports of unusually heavy fighting in Ferelden, fighting against the undead, not against the Orlaisian or Tevinter neighbours for once... It looks like it may be the beginning of a real Blight. If so, the Emperor is naturally worried."

"I see."

"There is an order of battlemages there - they call themselves the Grey Wardens. They spend their lives fighting the undead, keeping them at bay. You are to join them."

"Understood."

"Hmm... I don't think you understand it yet, Agent." The Legate's glance darkened. "They are not mere battlemages. They bear the mark of the Archdemon - of the dragon. Yet they are not Dragonborn, they gain that mark in a joining ceremony. It infects them with the blight, making them into the very undead they are fighting... if they live long enough. It takes some fifty years to develop. If you are to join them, you too will receive such a mark."

The Agent straightened his already straight back and answered evenly.

"But we need information, do we not?" He looked straight at the Legate. "If there is a way to protect Tamriel from the Blight, we need to know about it. I understand."

"We hope that you being Dragonborn, may fare better than an average person," the Legate continued in a softer tone. "For one, we are almost certain you will survive the joining ritual... oh yes, it is quite deadly. Only every third or every fourth recruit survives it..."

The Agent was listening without fear. Something told him that not only would he survive, but he would go far in that world as well, all the way to the Archdemon.

"...all the way to the Black City," he said under his breath, then caught himself, realising that he said it aloud.

"You have been hearing his voice already," the Legate nodded. "You are not going mad. The Archdemon talks to all those who bear the mark of the dragon... and that includes the undead, the Grey Wardens and the Dragonborn, that is you." He paused contemplating the Agent before him. "And so it is a true Blight indeed."

"What are my orders?" The Agent preferred a practical approach.

"Learn what you can, help them stop it, if that's in your power," the Legate sat back in his chair. "It is an open mission - use your judgement. Each Dragonborn throughout history has had a reason for bearing that mark, and fighting this Blight with the Grey Wardens seems to be yours. Things are dire in Ferelden just now, with local politics overshadowing the much greater danger of the rising Blight. You will swing the scales for the Grey Wardens."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This chapter follows Lena's father, Wolf Asgarsen. He is being sent to Ferelden to stem the tide of the Blight. This is Dragon Age Origins.

[macole]

Interesting start. The Legate appears to be very knowledgeable about Ferelden, the Grey Wardens, and the Blight. I wonder how many agents were lost acquiring that tome.

[Lena Wolf]

Indeed! The Empire has been watching the Blight in Thedas for a long time... And perhaps if they had not been, then the events of 3E405 in Daggerfall would have been so much more devastating...

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Dawn, 3E387 - Ostagar

"Just how many varieties of undead do they have there?" Agent Wolf Asgarsen was studying the old tome that the Legate gave him in preparation for his mission in Ferelden. The trip would take a month or two, and as long as the sea was not too rough, he could keep his mind off his stomach by focusing on the book. "They all seem to be some sort of zombies," he decided. "Rotting flesh, black blood... They call them 'darkspawn' because of that - very apt indeed! Ugh, you are ugly!"

The illustrations were graphic enough to make Wolf's stomach turn even on calm seas, yet he had to learn about these creatures. Not only did they come in different sizes, but they also possessed different skills and were organised in units with a commanding structure. At the very top stood the Archdemon - a dragon.

"Armed and armoured zombies that can also cast magic and possess superior constitution and strength." Wolf shut the book with a thump. "Lovely. With a dragon to lead them, a dragon that talks to me in my sleep! Why, I feel right at home already."

The Legate had instructed Wolf to make his way to Ostagar, a place that used to be a village, but had since become a central point for the fight against the Blight. This was because Ostagar lay at the Southern border of the civilised world - beyond it was nothing but wilderness.

"We don't normally sail that far South in the Frozen Sea," the captain bent over the map with Wolf. "But the Legion is very persuasive. We shall make a detour and drop you off here," he tapped the map. "The Eastern edge of the Korcari Wilds, just where it meets with the Brecilian Forest... A wilder place would be hard to find," he smirked. "It's not darkspawn you need to worry about there, it's the apostate mages, werewolves, elves and of course the Witch of the Wilds." The captain nodded to himself. "Ostagar is not too far inland, perhaps a day on foot. Provided you don't run into anything..." He grinned and got up to leave.

"Apostate mages, werewolves, elves and the Witch," Wolf repeated to himself, opening his tome again to look up all of that and to try to understand how the elves, a whole people, ended up in such company. And who was that Witch deserving of a special mention?

The matter of elves was easily clarified: humans despised them, and the elves reciprocated, and yet they did not rebel, they somehow simply accepted their fate of being sold into slavery or made into servants if they were lucky. Just one tribe lived in freedom, inhabiting the Brecilian Forest, and they shot humans on sight.

The tome had a short paragraph on apostate mages - those were mages who refused to be locked away in a tower with templars watching their every move. Magic was not illegal in Ferelden, but it was illegal to be a mage and not to be locked up in that tower. Mages were not permitted to live freely, to have a gift of magic meant to be imprisoned for life. Magic was seen as dangerous, mages as inherently unreliable and untrustworthy, and locking them away was considered the only way to keep the rest of the society safe. Why was that? The Chantry insisted that it were mages who created darkspawn, who created the Blight. Not by intent, but by callously poking their noses into matters they did not understand. Such curiosity was a danger to all.

Wolf smirked reading about this doctrine. Of course, the reality was much more complex than that. He did not believe that mages, powerful as they might be, were capable of reaching out into the Void itself and bringing the Void into Mundus - for that was in essence what the Chantry was saying. He felt that the repression of mages was going to explode into everyone's faces sooner or later, but may be just like the elves, the mages were still accepting their fate for now.

The tome had no information on werewolves or the Witch of the Wilds, and Wolf figured that werewolves were probably the same as in Tamriel, and the Witch... well, he would just have to see for himself about that. The captain lent him a few books of old tales and legends, and a few pamphlets for King and Country, and by the time the ship reached the shores of Ferelden, Wolf felt that he'd learned everything he could learn from books and was ready to step out into this new world and join the turmoil.

...

Ostagar was indeed not too far from the coast. Wolf moved through the forest watching for wild animals and avoiding every and all encounter - his goal was not to die on his first day in Ferelden. He arrived without incident and went looking for Duncan - the man in charge of the Grey Wardens that was supposed to be expecting him.

"Welcome," Duncan did expect him. "I received word that a worthy recruit from overseas would be joining us," he smiled. "That must be you. It is good to have a seasoned warrior join us for once, we often get beginners and have to train them up first. But there is no time now - this camp, this gathering of troops is here to fight a horde of darkspawn... You are informed of that, I trust?" He squinted, and Wolf smiled.

"I am," he nodded. "I also know that it isn't just a horde. I've had word..."

"Ah!" Duncan's face cleared. "Your Legate did mention that the recruit they were sending was no ordinary soldier. You have to tell me about this later, this is remarkable indeed! Normally only those that have gone through the Joining can hear the Archdemon... Well, well!"

The camp was buzzing with activity around them, people were running, shouting, arguing, lamenting, praying, laughing - all at once. Dogs were barking loudly, some appeared to be in distress.

"We've had heavy fighting here already," Duncan turned towards the kennels. "The hounds get infected with the Blight when they bite darkspawn. It gives them much pain and is deadly unless treated. Of course we try to treat it as quickly as we can. In fact..." He stopped talking for a moment, listening to the barking and the howls from the dogs. "Well, why not. You will need to go into the woods - into the Korcari Wilds, you and the other recruits, to get darkspawn blood for the Joining Ritual. I believe the kennel master is running out of herbs to treat the dogs, so why don't you ask him what he needs and see if you can find some. It may be a small thing, but it will give you a start in learning our flora... for if you wish to survive, you will need to make your own medicine here."

Wolf nodded, it made a lot of sense. This new land had its own plants, and he had to learn that too, better sooner than later. He went to see the kennels master.

"Going into the Wilds are you?" The master was keeping the gate shut firmly behind him. "The dogs are restless, many are in pain from the darkspawn. We are running out of herbs, too... So yeah, white flowers, tall stems, quite striking - the others will show you. Bring as many as you can..." One dog kept pushing the gate behind the kennel master and finally got its head through. "Oh, get back, you!" The master spun around trying to push the dog back, but the dog was having none of it.

"He really wants to get out," Wolf laughed and knelt, coming level with the dog. "Hello, fellow," he smiled and the dog sat before him and stopped barking.

"Why, I never..." the kennel master stopped too, watching in surprise. "These are Mabari hounds, they bond with their master for life. This one just lost his master in a battle a few days ago... this would often mean the death of the dog as well... they just never bond with anyone else again. Usually. Except now. Why, I think you just got yourself a dog!"

"I'll go into the woods and get you herbs," Wolf said to the dog. "You stay here for now and behave yourself. Got it?"

The dog gave a little whine, a wag of his tail, got up and returned into the kennels enclosure without any fuss or complaint.

"He will need a day or two longer to recover from that fight," the kennels master turned to Wolf. "I am glad, really. I hate to see these powerful beasts wither and die of grief for their fallen masters..."

...

"Ah, you must be the other new recruit!" A young blond warrior spoke quite loudly behind Wolf, making Wolf spin around on the spot. "Armour of a foreign make, Duncan did say you'd be from overseas. Well, all right, let's get going!" He turned and started to walk, then changed his mind. "Erm... you do speak our language, don't you? Language? You... un-der-stand me?"

"I understand you," Wolf replied with an amplified Nord accent. "But who are you? Because you obviously know who I am."

"Oh," the fellow blushed. "I didn't introduce myself, did I? Err... Sorry... I'm Alistair. I am to lead you on our outing into the Wilds... Did Duncan mention that? To get darkspawn blood?" Alistair was blushing even more, realising that he was a good deal younger than Wolf.

"Yes, Duncan did mention that," Wolf nodded. "Lead on, Alistair."

"Right, let's get the other recruits... follow me!" Alistair recovered from his embarrassment and sprinted towards a small group that appeared to be waiting for him.

"Are we all assembled? Can we go now?" A recruit in a costly shining armour wielding a brand new greatsword drew himself up. "Is it just the three of us?"

"The four of us," Alistair corrected him. "I am coming too. You did mean me, right..?" He blushed again, interrupting himself.

Wolf thought: "His first time in command. I wonder why they didn't send a more senior Grey Warden?"

"They didn't send anyone more senior than me because there is no one more senior than me here, apart from Duncan," Alistair seemed to have read his mind. "There are no other Grey Wardens here at all, in fact. But there will be, once you've gone through the Joining!" He added happily, but with a shadow lurking behind his smile. "But worry not, I shall suffice..."

He waved his hand, turned and started walking briskly towards the gate to the Korcari Wilds, with his three recruits following.

"I am not so sure about this," the knight in shining armour leveled with Wolf. "You look like an experienced warrior. Should you not lead us instead? I don't know if that pup is up to the task..."

"This pup has excellent hearing," Alistair spun around. "You will have to follow me now, I am afraid, because I am the only Grey Warden in our group, and thus the only one who can sense the darkspawn approach. Pup or no pup... but there is no substitute for me just yet."

Wolf smiled but said nothing. Alistair was young and inexperienced, and still tripped over his own feet, so to say, but he had the spark, Wolf thought. And so he did not mention that he too could sense the darkspawn approach, even though he had not gone through the Joining yet... In fact, several darkspawn were close... very close...

Alistair tensed, drawing his sword. "Get ready! Here they come!"

"What? Where..?" The knight was jerking his head left and right, while the third recruit, a rogue by the look of things, drew his long daggers and crouched.

"Here!!!" Wolf bellowed, planting his axe into a stump rising from the ground. Alistair smirked and proceeded slashing another stump, the rogue caught on and sliced up another one into ribbons... the darkspawn were rising from below ground.

"What?! Stand up and fight!!" The knight finally spotted one that rose up to the waist already.

"Hit him!!!" Alistair screamed, busy with an adversary of his own.

"No, there is no honour in that! I have to wait until he emerges and stands against me!"

"No, you don't!!!"

A few more hits from Wolf's axe, another twirl of the rogue's daggers, and this small group of darkspawn was defeated.

"You really don't have to wait for them to fully emerge," Alistair was collecting some blood from one of the corpses. "You don't really want them to fight back."

"But there's no honour in that!" The knight protested. "I am only joining for the honour!"

"Hmm..." Alistair was about to say something, but Wolf touched his arm - leave it.

"I don't think that this darkspawn cares much for honour," he turned to the knight. "Have you been in many battles? Your armour looks pristine."

"I... well, no," the knight smiled. "I just got married... got a young wife and a child on the way... I am soon to take over from my father, I'll be in the Landsmeet... Joining the Grey Wardens is just an extra honour. And I can fight, I assure you! I won many tournaments, year after year!"

"Err..." Alistair faced him. "Grey Wardens have to give up their prior lives, you know," he said softly. "You can still see your wife, of course, from time to time... but the Landsmeet... I don't think so."

"Oh." The knight looked really disappointed. "Duncan mentioned it, but I thought he was just saying it for the form... Well, I think I won't go through with it then."

"Umm..."

"Let us focus on what we are here for," Wolf interrupted another revelation from Alistair. "You'll have to discuss it with Duncan when we return."

Everyone agreed and prepared to enter the Korcari Wilds proper.

[Acadian]

So Agent Wolf is recruited from Skyland for his dragonborniness and sets off to a new land to contract some likely deadly disease and fight some seriously scary undead. What could go wrong?

What a waste and potential loss of combat power to enslave elves and lock up mages!

I chuckled over the pristine knight, as the small herb and undead hunting party got down to business. I'm sure the darkspawn probably don't fight by tournament rules.

At least Wolf may have himself a loyal dog waiting for when/if he returns.

[Lena Wolf]

Acadian - indeed, tournament is out with this darkspawn, methinks. But dragons are the same everywhere, are they not? Agent Wolf has never seen a dragon before, so he would not know, but he might sense it. The Legate thought so. Hmm... he's got a long road ahead.

[Lena Wolf]

Sun’s Dawn, 3E387 – The last of Grey Wardens

The foray into the Korcari Wilds was successful. Alistair proved true to his word and was able to warn Grey Warden recruits of approaching darkspawn, even though the darkspawn rose from under the earth. Wolf could sense them too, every time without fail... He found it most unpleasant.

One other thing that they had to do in the Wilds was to retrieve ancient Grey Warden treaties from a magically sealed chest in an old ruin. That fortress wasn't a ruin when the treaties were stored there - it was centuries ago, and it was one of the Grey Warden strongholds... one of many, at the time. At present no Grey Warden strongholds remained in Ferelden. Although darkspawn incursions never seized, there hadn't been a true Blight for centuries - four, five hundred years, perhaps. People had grown complacent, and although the Grey Wardens had not disappeared, their ranks dwindled and their strongholds fell, either to wilderness or to fellow men who found "better" uses for them. The stronghold in the Korcari Wilds fell to ruin simply because no one set foot into it for several hundred years. Nature took it back into its fold.

They found the ruin without much difficulty, and in it they found an ornate chest... utterly destroyed. Every bandit and every adventurer would have been interested in a chest like that, expecting to find great treasures within. Eventually someone broke the magical seal, or perhaps it simply wore off. And, undoubtedly, some adventurer found a pack of old scrolls and used them to light a fire...

"The Grey Wardens should have never left those treaties in a disused tower like this!" The knight in their party shook his head, and for once everyone agreed. "Of course, all is lost now."

"Well, well, who have we here?" A young woman in an eccentric dress stepped out from behind a column, a home-made staff at her back. "A scavenger or an intruder, I wonder?"

"She's a witch, she is!" The knight was quick to comment. "Best not cross her..."

"Now, there's a smart lad," the woman smirked. "What of the rest of you? I've followed your progress for some time... Where are they going, I wondered, what are they here for? Hmm?" She rested her eyes on each member of the Grey Warden party, and each felt her probing gaze.

"We are here to retrieve something that belongs to us," Alistair cleared his throat and said in a would-be authoritative tone. "Except that the chest is destroyed and the contents gone..." He added with hesitation.

"Grey Warden treaties," the woman nodded. "That magical seal had worn off ages ago. You should have come for them sooner."

"So you stole them!" Alistair nearly screamed. "Return them at once!"

Wolf turned away, hiding a smile - Alistair resembled a toddler demanding his favourite toy... The woman smiled openly and answered with a little laugh.

"I shall not return them, for it wasn't I who took them in the first place!"

"You didn't? Then who was it?" Alistair's tone became more neutral, but still carried some impatient irritation in it.

"It was my mother, in fact," the woman said simply.

"Then take us to her!" Alistair said impatiently and Wolf could just picture him stomp his foot as well.

"Do you think it's wise?" The third recruit finally opened his mouth. "She's the Witch of the Wild, she is! She'll stick us in a pot or turn into toads!"

"If that pot is warmer than this forest, then I'm all for it!" The knight was indeed shivering in his armour and the steel parts started clattering against each other.

"But what of you, hmm?" The woman looked at Wolf. "You haven't said anything so far. What are you - a scavenger or an intruder?"

"A scavenger, I guess, given those choices," Wolf smiled at her. "I am Wolf."

"Ah, manners at last!" The woman smiled. "And I am Morrigan. Come, I shall take you to my mother, for she has your treaties."

It was only a short walk, and the saw a hut among the trees and an older woman standing before it. She was dressed quite plainly and didn't carry a staff, and yet everyone instantly knew that if there was a Witch of the Wild among them, it was she. The knight and the rogue swallowed hard, Alistair straightened his back, but Wolf relaxed and smiled. He could not explain it, but he felt an instant kinship to the old woman. He smiled and greeted her politely, before Alistair could say something they would all regret. He seemed to have an animosity towards mages, even "tame" and "regularised" mages back at the camp, and certainly these "wild witches" standing before them... What was it they called such mages? Apostates, Wolf recalled. Mages that refused to be locked up in a tower. Quite.

"We should not be talking to apostates," Alistair said through his teeth to no one in particular. "Do you have our treaties?" He stared at the old woman with open hostility.

"I do indeed," she nodded, smirking at his attitude, apparently not offended but rather amused by it. "Your magical seal wore off centuries ago, I was keeping them safe for you." She produced the treaties from a simple chest just behind her and handed them to Alistair. "Here you are, Grey Warden."

"So... the seal wore off... and you've been keeping them safe... for centuries..?" Alistair's tone lost all hostility as he looked through old scrolls, intact and still readable. "But who are you?"

"An apostate mage," the old woman laughed. "The one you shouldn't accept help from."

"Oh." Alistair blushed. "Point taken... Thank you. But might not we know your name?"

The change of tone was so striking, that both women gave a short laugh, while the knight and the rogue swallowed hard - again. Perhaps they thought that Alistair feared the Witch, whichever woman it was, if not both.

"The folk here call me Flemeth," the old woman replied.

"THE Flemeth..?" Alistair took a step back. "But then you are the Witch of the Wilds!"

Wolf was looking at Flemeth and Alistair and wondering what turned Alistair's hostility into outright panic and fear. He could sense that Flemeth was a powerful mage, but that wasn't it... there was more... there had to be more... The captain of his ship mentioned the Witch of the Wilds, and now apparently she stood before him. He shook his head - now was not the time.

"Thank you, Flemeth," he said. "Thank you for safeguarding these treaties for us. We should be going now." He looked at Alistair who nodded vigorously along with the other recruits.

...

"Did you get enough darkspawn blood?" Duncan met them back at the camp. "Then let us proceed with the Joining."

The Joining ceremony was simple and solemn. All they had to do was drink darkspawn blood that they had collected.

"All Grey Wardens give their lives to fight the darkspawn," Duncan said gravely. "Some of us give their lives sooner rather than later though. Not all survive the Joining. But this is the price we pay for becoming what we are. Grey Wardens can sense the darkspawn because drinking darkspawn blood marks us with their taint. This gives us the very advantage that allows us to defeat them. And this is why Grey Wardens must leave their prior lives behind. From this moment on your life consists of battling darkspawn."

He paused and looked at the three recruits before him. No one spoke.

"You first, Daveth," Duncan handed the Joining Cup to their rogue. "Good luck."

Daveth drank. When darkspawn blood mixed with his own, his eyes became deadly white, he screamed and collapsed on the ground. His convulsions continued for a few moments, and then he was dead.

"I am sorry, Daveth," Duncan knelt before him. "You gave your life sooner rather than later."

"What?!" The knight took a step back in disgust and fear. "No! There is no glory in this! No! I refuse!" He took up his greatsword, although no one was attacking him. "I shall not drink that!"

"There is no turning back, Jori," Duncan put down the cup he was preparing and turned to the knight. "You've come too far." He looked stern, his voice was as hard as steel. He dropped the knight's title, not calling him "Sir Jori", Wolf noticed. Indeed, those were not the actions of a knight.

Jori started swinging his greatsword, and Wolf and Alistair stepped back. Duncan stepped forward, unsheathing one of his long daggers. Another step, then a quick lunge while Jori's greatsword was out of the way... Wolf watched and nodded: "A dagger through the heart while the knight is doing a tournament twirl," he thought. "Grey Wardens fight to win."

"I am sorry, Jori," Duncan stood over Jori's corpse. "I am sorry it came to this." Then he turned to Wolf, looking into his face, but said nothing - he could read his answer. Duncan nodded and prepared a fresh Joining Cup for Wolf. "Your turn, Wolf. Good luck."

Wolf drank from the cup. The blood tasted bitter and dead somehow. He thought it was only logical, considering that it was in fact dead...

...

"Ahhh, you come to join me," a dragon towered over Wolf. "Welcome, Dragonborn. We meet at last! Come, partake of our feast - fresh humans are on the menu..."

Wolf sat up. He had been lying on a wide natural stone bridge in a huge cavern. Fires were burning everywhere, the dragon was perched on the edge of a cliffside nearby. A sea of smaller fires was below them, far as the eye could see, seemingly without end. Wolf looked closer. Those were torches and braziers illuminating long, narrow tables laden with meat. Darkspawn of all ranks and sizes were gathered around them, standing and sitting, devouring the meat. Human flesh. That is why there were rarely corpses left behind after a battle with darkspawn.

...

"He will live." Duncan knelt over Wolf convulsing on the ground. "You just wait," he looked up at Alistair who was shaking his head. "This recruit will become a Grey Warden."

A few minutes later Wolf opened his eyes. His dream ended as suddenly as it began.

"Welcome, Grey Warden," Duncan smiled at him. "You've met the Archdemon, have you not? And he did not try to slay you... Interesting... You'll need to tell me about that later. After the battle."

A loud bark interrupted him and a lively Mabari dog put his paws on Wolf's chest.

"Hello, fellow," Wolf smiled. "Did the kennel master give you leave?" He looked sternly at the dog and the dog cocked his head with a little guilty whine. "Almost, eh?" Wolf smirked. "Alright then, we should best go see him then."

"What are you going to call him?" Alistair cautiously petted the dog and didn't have his hand bitten off.

"Bob," Wolf answered before he even knew what he was saying. "He wants to be called Bob."

"Is that so?" Alistair looked at Bob with a hint of envy. "They do say that the Mabari hounds are smart enough to understand all we're saying and wise enough not to speak."

"Which cannot be said about you, Alistair," Duncan laughed. "Come on. We have strategy to discuss - darkspawn awaits!"

...

The strategy was being presented by the King's general Loghain. The plan was quite simple: the forward force led by the King and the Grey Wardens would engage the darkspawn horde in a narrow impasse, then Loghain's much larger army would attack darkspawn at their flank, thus felling as many of them as possible without taking damage. It did mean that the forward force would likely be fully slaughtered, but the King didn't think it probable. Duncan had his doubts but didn't have a say in the matter.

"Someone will need to light the beacon to let us know when to attack," Loghain finished relating his plan. "The beacon on the tower of Ishal," he pointed at a tall tower some distance away. "We shall be waiting nearby."

"So then lighting the beacon in time is a critical mission," the King nodded. "We should send our best - Alistair and the new Grey Warden. I am sorry we didn't have a chance to get acquainted," he looked at Wolf and smiled. "But there will be plenty of time for that during the celebrations after the battle."

"You seem so certain, Your Majesty," Duncan coughed and looked away.

"But of course!" The King laughed, his guilded armour reflecting the fires. "I have the mighty Grey Wardens at my side! What could possibly go wrong? Besides, I am not even convinced it's a true Blight! There's plenty of darkspawn about, but I've seen no sign of the Archdemon..."

"Disappointed, Your Majesty?" Duncan's eyes grew dark.

"Oh, I suppose this will have to do..." The King shrugged. "All right, let's get ready - the party awaits!"

...

"I thought there were no other Grey Wardens in the camp?" Wolf turned to Alistair when they were on the way to the tower. "But the King spoke as if he had an army of them..."

"There's Duncan," Alistair frowned. "And three more Grey Wardens arrived last night. That's the army."

"Then I suppose we should get to the tower, light the beacon and join the battle as soon as we can." Wolf hastened his step and Alistair gladly followed.

When they got to the tower, they found it overrun by darkspawn, even though Loghain's forces were supposed to keep it clear.

"I don't like this," Wolf shot a glance at Alistair and got a glance back.

They pressed on, fighting darkspawn on every floor. They got to the top and lit the beacon. From there they had a perfect view of the battle below. The sea of darkspawn pouring into the impasse with the King's forward force wedge in it. Loghain's army waiting for the signal. Ah, they'd seen it. Now the tide of the battle would turn.

"Sound the retreat!!!" The wind carried Loghain's command up to the top of the tower. The army turned around and marched off. A fresh wave of darkspawn stormed the tower. There was no sight of the Archdemon, but he would be there at the celebrations afterwards, no doubt. Two Grey Wardens and a Mabari hound could not defeat endless waves of darkspawn coming at them.

"This was a rather short mission," Wolf thought, realising that the arrow in his neck had nicked an artery. "Some Dragonborn I turned out to be..."

[Acadian]

I think Morrigan and her mom were right. The Gray Wardens shouldn’t have left those treaties to only a warded chest. Happily, the witches readily surrender them.

The Joining is tough! Too bad about the rogue. The knight. . . not so much. And Wolf makes it.

Uh-oh, the end of this episode does not sound hopeful at all. Perhaps those wild witches will intervene again?

[Lena Wolf]

Yes, going through that tower, defeating all that darkspawn, lighting the beacon, and then watching the cinematic of getting an arrow in the neck and dying... well... that was rather anti-climatic. Very impressive though. And yes, you guessed right, the story doesn't actually end there, against all odds.

[Lena Wolf]

Sun’s Dawn, 3E387 – Kinship of the dragon

"Ah, you are finally awake!" Morrigan turned around when she heard Wolf sit up in his bed. "A bit pale from the loss of blood, but awake... Mother was right, you're made of strong stuff. Your friend too. You Grey Wardens do live up to your reputation."

Wolf wanted to object that he only became a Grey Warden the day before and couldn't take the credit... Then the memories of the big battle in Ostagar, Loghain's betrayal and all the darkspawn rose before his eyes. He remembered an arrow in the neck, too. But how could they possibly be saved? There was no way out! Darkspawn was everywhere, and the King with his small forward force must be dead... The King, Duncan, the other Grey Wardens, and every soldier in that force...

"We've been betrayed," said Wolf grimly.

"Indeed." Morrigan was watching him. "Your friend is not taking it well."

"My friend?" Wolf was momentarily confused, this whole thing was still very new to him. "Oh, you mean Alistair? Yeah, that figures... I better go see him." He made an effort to get up, but had to sit down again because the loss of blood made him very light-headed. "In a minute," he smiled. "Tell me what happened... err... not about the battle - I remember that part. How is it possible that we were saved?"

"Ah, yes, well, mother does have a trick or two up her sleeve," Morrigan laughed. "She turned into a giant bird, flew to the top of that tower and plucked you and your friend from the floor, one in each talon. And if you don't believe this explanation, then you're welcome to ask her yourself." Morrigan pouted her lips, and Wolf thought that she suddenly looked like a little girl.

"Oh, I believe it," Wolf laughed. "With a small correction - she didn't turn into a bird, she turned into a dragon."

"What..? How..?" Morrigan stood aghast.

"How I knew? I didn't, but you just told me," Wolf smiled. "I am Dragonborn. I felt kinship to your mother the moment I saw her when we came looking for treaties. I do not feel kinship to every chicken I eat, so if you say she turned into a bird, you mean she turned into a dragon. You probably can shape-shift as well, being her daughter... Although not into a dragon form, or I would have felt it. How am I doing so far?" He grinned.

"Very well indeed!" Morrigan beamed at him. "You are different from your friend... err... the dim-witted one... the other Grey Warden," she struggled to describe Alistair, for some reason avoiding calling him by name. "I heard you just only joined Grey Wardens a week ago... Oh, yes, it's been a week..."

"Alistair has a thing against mages, I don't understand it," Wolf shook his head. "A week? That's a long time to have your ear talked off... Apparently, he felt some special connection to Duncan, beyond the fact that the was a senior Grey Warden... I dunno. But I would not be surprised if he's grieving. He's still young... Don't be too hard on him."

"Well, I am still young too." Morrigan answered with defiance. "Yet I don't behave like a child."

"Not all the time, no," Wolf laughed. "Oh, lay off him, will you? Anyway, I should go find him and we'll be out of your hair in no time." He finally managed to get up, overcoming light-headedness. "I don't suppose your mother managed to rescue a dog as well, did she? Bob was a welcome friend..."

"We do have a mangy Mabari hanging around here, I suppose it's him," Morrigan squinted. "Bob? Yeah, whatever. As long as you take him with you when you leave."

...

"Can you believe what Loghain did? Betray us like that? Betray the King? What are we to do now???" Alistair poured a flood of laments over Wolf by way of greeting. "Oh, and good to see you awake, by the way. You lost so much blood, I didn't think you'd survive. But these... witches... well, they kept pouring potions into you... and look at that... you're actually alive."

"Yes, they nursed me back to life," Wolf nodded. "I should thank them properly. Without these - ah - witches, we would be dead, Alistair."

Alistair was still muttering something under his breath when Wolf approached Flemeth who was stirring stew over the fire.

"Thank you for rescuing us, Flemeth," he said with a little bow. "And thank you and Morrigan for nursing us back to life afterwards. Alistair too. Forgive his ranting, please, he is grieving."

"I did what had to be done, but you are welcome," Flemeth straightened her back. "You are Dragonborn. You can make a difference here, and you must make a difference here. Alistair... well, he is a Grey Warden, so he'll help. I could save two, so I saved you both. You must rise against the Blight."

"Two Grey Wardens cannot rise against the Blight!" Alistair caught up with them, and either didn't hear or didn't understand Flemeth's remark about Wolf being Dragonborn. "You are expecting too much of us... With the King's army lost... with Loghain's betrayal and all the politics of it... The Blight will swallow us, and we have nothing to oppose it."

"Two Grey Wardens cannot rise against the Blight," Flemeth repeated with a nod. "But two Grey Wardens can and must raise an army with which to rise against the Blight. That was exactly why I was looking after those treaties for you. The dwarves, the elves, the mages, some of the nobility too... didn't they all pledge their aid in times of the Blight? And yes, you do have politics to contend with as well, but what else is new? Since the Archdemon won your grand battle at Ostagar, he will take some time to regroup before the next decisive march, and you must use that time to build an army... Because if you don't, all will perish... You are a Grey Warden, you know how it goes."

Alistair wanted to object, perhaps simply for the sake of contradicting a mage, but then he saw the sense in Flemeth's words.

"We should try at least," he said grimly. "Two Grey Wardens... I just can't believe it... without Duncan..." His voice trailed off and he turned away, and Wolf thought that it was definitely more than simple grief for the loss of a senior Warden.

"We should be going, thank you again for all your help," Wolf turned to Flemeth again. "We'll do our best."

"There is something else I can give you," Flemeth looked at Morrigan. "The most precious thing I have... not a thing at all, in fact... my daughter. Take Morrigan with you, Warden."

"Take me... what?!" Morrigan spun around to face her mother. "Just like that? Without a warning? Don't I get a say in this? And I'm not ready..!"

"You must be ready, girl," Flemeth shook her head. "You've been itching to get out of the woods for ages. They need your help. They don't know it yet, but without one of us, without you, they will surely fail. You know why."

"I... I know why," Morrigan nodded. "Very well..."

"Wait - what?!" Alistair finally realised what was happening. "Take her along? That witch?! No! I'm sure we can manage just fine on our own!"

"Now, Warden..." Flemeth looked sternly at him and Morrigan was about to fly into a rage.

"Morrigan comes with us, and that's final." Wolf said firmly and loudly, making everyone stare at him. Flemeth smiled, Morrigan raised an eyebrow, and Alistair shook his head, looking dejected. "Unless you wish to lead, Alistair?"

"I..? No!" Alistair shook his head so vigorously, he risked damaging his neck. "I would not know where to start even... I'd make a horrible leader... You lead... Morrigan comes with us... alright, I'll accept it."

With matters thus settled, Wolf, Alistair, Morrigan and Bob the Mabari hound said their goodbyes to Flemeth and set off towards the nearest village outside the woods.

...

The village of Lothering was overrun with refugees fleeing the darkspawn. Our party tried to help them where they could, donating coin, medicine and supplies in exchange for rumours and various titbits of information. They picked up two new members for their party as well - a lay sister of the Chantry who could fight "like an Archdemon", and a Qunari mercenary who was imprisoned for murder.

Qunari were a race of giants, or rather a race of tall and wide-shouldered people, about a head taller than humans. Wolf didn't think that qualified as "giants", but people did tend to exaggerate. The Qunari generally despised humans and elves both, and doubly despised dwarves, which went some way of explaining why no one was particularly welcoming towards them. It remained unclear what that lone Qunari mercenary was doing in a human village, and Wolf thought that perhaps he had been a scout for the Qunari army posing as a mercenary. Whatever the reason, he had murdered a farmer and his family, and was now locked up in a cage without food or water. "I leave him to the mercy and judgement of the Maker," the Reverend Mother had said, and Wolf thought that it was an exceptionally cruel thing to do to leave someone to die of hunger and thirst or to be slaughtered by darkspawn, whichever came first. However, after a small "donation" of thirty silvers towards the Chantry fund, the Reverend Mother was willing to part with the key to Sten's cage, proclaiming it to be the Will of the Maker that the Wardens should take Sten into their custody. Wolf shook his head, but didn't argue, pinching Morrigan to keep her mouth shut as well. Sten was suspicious of being released at first, but when he learned that he would be going against the Blight with the Grey Wardens, he joined them willingly, considering it a worthy cause.

As our party walked into the local tavern, they were attacked by a group of mercenaries wanting their heads. It transpired that General Loghain had named himself the King Regent of Ferelden, and in his version of events of the battle at Ostagar, it were the Grey Wardens who betrayed the King which led to the King's demise. He therefore declared all Grey Wardens to be traitors to the land and offered a generous reward per head.

A fight in a crowded tavern was messy but short, and soon the mercenaries were begging for mercy. They weren't some random mercenaries after all... They were Loghain's men, specifically instructed to seek out the two remaining Grey Wardens - Wolf and Alistair, and kill them. Loghain's plan had been of course to have them perish in the tower with the beacon, but knowing how resourceful Grey Wardens usually were, he was taking no chances until the bodies of Wolf and Alistair were found or until their heads were decorating the spikes in front of Loghain's mansion. Thus things turned personal - the last two Grey Wardens of Ferelden got themselves an enemy.

"I'll let you live," Wolf turned to Loghain's agents. "Return to him and take a message: challenge accepted."

As the "mercenaries" ran out of the tavern, a young Chantry sister stepped forward, two bloody daggers behind her back.

"You forgot to tell him to say his prayers and prepare to die," she smirked. "Why so modest?"

"General Loghain is a seasoned warrior and won't be intimidated by a couple of Grey Wardens," Wolf shrugged. "It would be empty bragging. He is not someone we could just track down and kill. Oh, we'll get to him in time, but whether it will be he who dies or one of us, I am not so certain."

"Now, there's a cheery prospect..." Alistair whistled. "Realistic though..."

"I didn't realise Chantry sisters were permitted to carry arms, or to use them," Wolf smiled at the Chantry sister. "Where did you learn to fight like that, Sister?"

"Not in the Chantry, if that's what you're asking," she smiled back. "I am coming with you, Warden. The Maker told me to."

"I beg your pardon..?" Wolf thought for a moment that he had misheard.

"I know it sounds crazy. But He did. I had a dream. You are going against the Blight, are you not? Well. I'm coming with you."

"Err..."

"She isn't just a Chantry sister," Morrigan said in Wolf's ear. "She has a past."

"That much is obvious," Wolf replied in a low voice.

"What are you too whispering about?" Alistair joined in. "We can all hear you, you know."

"Well, we certainly need recruits, and a Chantry sister who fights like the Archdemon will fit right in," Wolf smiled at her. "What's your name, dear?"

"Leliana," she smiled. "And call me 'dear' one more time, and you'll have met the Archdemon early."

The party was certainly becoming quite colourful. They stayed in Lothering a little longer, gathered supplies and discussed strategy, such as it could be at these early stages of building an army to go against the Blight. Wolf couldn't make up his mind which group to approach first, and everyone was suggesting something different. In the end he whistled for Bob and went for a stroll in the woods to clear his head of all the chatter. His companions weren't soldiers, they joined the group for their own reasons... and it was his task to make them work together. Suddenly he just wished for a small horde of darkspawn to take his mind off the politics.