Yet another Perspective

1. In the Beginning

Summary: Canon for the rest of the series I have planned out—

The story follows an Orlesian Warden as she joins the party at Redcliffe—the narrative will slip in and out of perspectives, but I'll try to even them out in time. I hope. I hope to reveal more about her in bits of information, so I apologise for the sudden beginning!

Meanwhile, please read and comment; I shall work hard!

It gets better (I hope) as you read later chapters— I'm continually improving on my writing *grins*

Kiera

The Blight was just beginning, and based on the lands I had passed and the things I saw, it looked pretty bad. I mean that it wasn't pretty. At all.

Whole villages sacked, devastated by the sheer mass of the darkspawn horde— devouring everything in its path. The black evil had spread from the South, tearing up the land. I wondered if any Fereldan Grey Wardens survived the great battle at Ostagar; of if they were all doomed along with the King. The whole of Ferelden would be taken, if none were left— Orlais was still weeks away, and any missive sent now would be too late. I wondered what had possessed these people to have left it this late, to risk their people so.

I was the only one who had made it across the border— a passage by both ship and land, and still I was not in time for the battle that had claimed the Ferelden Order. And Duncan.

And yet, something else was affecting these people, the villagers of Redcliffe. It wasn't darkspawn, but something far worse, most likely something to do with the thin Veil that hung over the castle which stood on that hill.

I saw many of the men arming themselves, and as I walked amongst them, they seemed quite unable to describe the horrors that assailed the village each night. Monstrous apparitions, they said—horrible, disgusting things.

My curiosity was piqued, but not enough to walk into the Chantry, where everyone kept directing me. I wasn't desperate enough for information to walk where there were obviously going to be templars.

Hence, I settled myself at the tavern, figuring that if any news were to come, it would be from members of the militia looking to get drunk, and might let something slip about whatever it was they were fighting so desperately every night.

I didn't have to wait long, however, as more travellers walked into the tavern around midday, made up of men and women (even a kossith). They were all armed, and looked to have seen much fighting. They were also led by a mage, if I was to guess by his bright yellow robes. A Circle Mage.

Huh. Didn't think those could walk around in broad daylight without Templars on their heels. He also looked vaguely familiar, perhaps an acquaintance from my Circle days. I slid lower in my seat, trying to look as inconspicuous as I could, deciding to observe their actions a bit more before approaching the suspicious group. One could never tell, in such a hostile world— that and the fact that the mage had actually intimidated the barkeep as well as an elf into joining the militia made me hesitant about identifying myself to the already tense men and women.

The troupe of misfits appeared to be helping the militia with their problems—making the blacksmith agree to repair armor, finding a dwarven warrior to help in the coming battle, forcing the jumpy elf into the militia, and even providing free drinks for the poor men who were depressed about the coming nightfall.

Such a charming bunch. I mused. The day was spent, and I was very much willing to fight alongside these people, if only to find out whether their paths were the same as mine. Two of them were Grey Wardens who completely overlooked my existence. How curious. The hum of the taint was unmistakable.

"Are you another traveller? You might want to go to the Chantry to hide." The sandy-haired warrior glanced at me, before turning away quickly.

"I am a traveller, but I do believe that you people will need all the help you can get, at least, for the battle tonight." My voice rang clear above the hushed murmuring everyone else seemed to converse in. The quiet was unsettling.

The man turned back, and this time took in the armour that I was wearing— the unobtrusive black plating, that covered my arms, torso and legs. Briefly, I saw him ponder. Perhaps the people in Ferelden weren't all dense. "Okay, you can help defend the frontlines with us. But at the first sign of danger, or injury, fall back—we can handle the rest."

Immediately, I knew I was very wrong. The men here appeared to be intellectually-impaired.

Night fell, and we saw a strange, miasmic cloud of destruction sped from the castle; a sign of the corruption that I had already suspected to have engulfed all who lived within its walls. I wasn't hopeful for the nobles, but at the very least, one could hope. In the midst of battle, I found myself fighting alongside the kossith.

He knew me for what I was, when I had enchanted both our blades to repel the undead fiends, a 'filthy' mage. He had snarled a little at that thought, but I think (at least I hope) that even he noticed that my moves were quite seasoned and unmage-like.

He then appeared to tolerate my presence, especially (again, I might be just flattering myself) in light of my skill with the twin blades. Three times I took down the fiends before they would injure him, and twice he shielded me from those which had sprung at my distracted self. The bony hands could cling like vices even as they were severed from the rest of the body. An incredibly creepy battle.

Much, much later—the final undead fell as its skeletal remains were crushed into dust by a bash from a shield. The surviving soldiers cheered; triumphant cries that proclaimed their immense relief at not dying at the hands of the decaying fiends.

I couldn't help but smile; it was a happy ending after all, even with the bodies of the fallen littering the ground. We had won, we all thought— and sheathing my double blades, I watched the relieved men in their thankful celebrations.

P.S.: It's a bit short. Sorry! The rest of the chapters aren't as short though. Do read on- new perspectives come into play, like the title suggests :)