“Ferelden’s recent past is a history that I am well acquainted with. A war-ravaged country that has never fully recovered as a whole. Turmoil on the countryside has bred desperation which in turn has cultivated widespread chaos in the populace…”

• From the Journal of Eratus Riverwood

The sun had long since fallen off the horizon, replaced by two pale half-moons. On Azeroth, the moons were larger, the White lady drifting across the sky with the Blue Child following behind her. The ones I looked up to were more akin to twins and another reminder that I was no longer home. They also provided only a fraction of the light.

The shadows cast by the dark corners of the city, normally restrained by the sun, now stretched out well into the streets. The only sounds were the faint echoes of conversation from the inns and taverns throughout the city. The final oases of activity in a quiet world.

I continued my march through the city roads. There was a part of me that wished to join that quiet world and take a nice long rest. However, I had an obligation to fulfill.

Flickers of light passed every now and then. They were either twinkles of burning midnight oil from windows or the occasional torch from a passing patrol. The city guards were out in force now, more so than they were in the day. However, they didn’t seem to mind me, they seemed more interested in keeping vagrants off the streets.

The pain in my feet was returning, mainly from stepping on uneven cobblestone for most of the day. At least I wasn’t lugging the extra weight of my travelpack, a fact my shoulders and back were infinitely grateful for. It was set off in my room at the closest tavern I could find to the west gate. The place itself was shabby and my room smelled like sweat and grime left by occupants’ past, but I was hardly in the mood to find better quarters. Time had been running short and it was the place I trusted myself to be able to find my way back to in the middle of the night. Now, the only added weight was Captain Falmore’s sword off the side of my belt and the Lorekeeper’s disc sitting in a pouch.

My stomach growled again, reminding me of my hunger and the parched feeling in my throat. I recalled the smell of roasted stew in the inn. The mugs a few patrons had with what looked like beer or perhaps mead. I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind. Hopefully it would be available once the night’s mission ended.

The west gate was visible now. Fires flickered from the guard posts above the walls. Past it was the countryside, littered with campfires near the vagrant camps outside the city. Beyond those was a rolling landscape of black and gray colors.

Wind blew past me, and I shivered as the cold air sent goosebumps shriveling up my arms. I kept my arms just a bit closer to my body. I had an old coat that Aunt Tiana bought for me that I had left at my quarters in the Badlands. It wasn’t much use in the melting sunlight, but I really wished I brought it with me. The chill was enough for me to consider better clothes as a higher priority the next time opportunity I would get to scrounge for supplies.

There were several figures holding torches and huddled by the wall. They weren’t guards, that much I was certain of. That must be who I was supposed to meet. I stepped towards them.

I was able to make out the shapes as I grew closer. Four of them stood in a circle. They wore plate armor that flickered in the firelight. The wind didn’t seem to bother them. Fur puffed out of the creases around their breastplates. I felt but a tinge of envy at their warm clothes.

There was one more. He was perched on a crate, noticeably separate from the others. It was the fighter from earlier, the one with the dagger. I think Knives was what they called him by. He still had the shawl wrapped around his face, leaving just a gap between his eyes.

One of the individuals in the circle shifted toward my direction.

“Eratus,” said Taoran. “Glad you made it.”

“Here in time?” I said.

“You ain’t Balt,” said one of the mercenaries. “Who are you?”

“Balt is… occupied with other matters at the moment,” said Taoran. “Eratus bested him in the fighting pit this afternoon and is taking his place.”

“What?” the mercenary said. “You mean to tell me this little wilder here beat that big lugger up?”

“I saw it with my own eyes Tom,” said Taoran.

Tom craned his neck forward into the torchlight to get a better look at me, and in turn I got a better look at him. He wore a helmet that obscured most of his features but his face was visible. His jaw was lopsided, and judging by the scar on his face, he had been injured and it was never properly healed. His nose was crooked as well and several scratches marred one of his cheeks.

“You’re a bit lightly equipped for the current venture,” he said.

“I travel light,” I said, as the wind billowed again. I really wished I had that coat.

“Before we go,” Taoran interrupted. “Can you lot introduce yourselves to our latest member?”

“Fair be it,” the mercenary said “My name is Tom.”

“Bill,” said the second.

“Ed,” said the third.

Bill and Ed shared Tom’s unfortunate facial deformities. On top of that all three of them sounded the same, wore the same clothes, and were even the same height. All of them had swords on as well. It was going to be impossible to tell one from the other.

“Eratus,” I said. “Nice to meet you all”

The only person who didn’t introduce themself was the lone figure perched on the crate. His eyes remained down on the ground.

“And that is Knives,” said Taoran, pointing towards him. “Hey introduce yourself.”

Knives looked at me, and merely nodded.

“He… isn’t much of a talker,” said Taoran. “But he is one mean fighter. And he is new just like yourself.”

“So, where we off to boss?” one of the mercenaries said. I already lost track of which one was which.

“Past the city. I’ll lead the way.”

“Bleh,” said another mercenary. “Another scavenger escort.”

“Scavenger escort?” I asked.

“Just a kind of job where you keep scavengers off. Too many keen folks nowadays looking to pay for their next meal out of people on the road. Which is why they hire us to keep them off,” another mercenary replied.

“Hope we get some action tonight,” said another mercenary. “Usually the ones that try have some coin on them. I always consider it a little bonus ripe for the taking.”

“Right… ,” I said.

“Enough talking,” said Taoran. “Let’s get going. Keep your eyes out. Tom you are with me up front. Knives, Eratus you two are in center. Bill and Ed, you have the rear.”

He was putting the two newest, and I guessed the least trustworthy individuals in the center where they could be watched by the others. I couldn’t blame him and wasn’t going to complain either. In any given patrol the safest place to be was usually the center anyway. In the front you run into traps from up front, in the back you get ambushed from behind. In the center all you had to worry about were the sides.

“Got it,” I replied. Everyone else acknowledged his words while Knives only nodded.

We stepped off, heading towards the gate. The guards themselves didn’t seem to mind us as we left, and were half-asleep by the looks of it.

We passed through into the dark landscape. The two moons illuminated the outline of trees and plains bristling with the evening gale. The only color came from the orange flare of the torches that we carried.

The hair on my skin crawled, and it wasn’t just from the wind. I hated night patrols for a reason. We were holding torches so everything from miles away would be able to see us in this world of black and gray. It was like being in the tunnels, but worse. At least there you only had to worry about what was in front or behind you. Here, an attack could come from any direction.

Bill and Ed’s conversation wasn’t helping much either.

“Air is piss cold out here.”

“Yea, I’m gonna go warm myself up The Pearl after this.”

“Can you even afford the girls there?”

“Once I’m finished with this business, I’ll be able to.”

“Eh I’ll probably join yeh then. I’m going for Banca. She’s Orlesian. I hear she does a doozy from a friend of mine.”

“Heh, that does sound nice. Give her nice Ferelden romp. Though I do prefer the elves, they do a better job, cheaper too.”

“Do they even knife-ears there?”

“Saw a few through the window.”

“What about you. Eratus was it?”

“Hm?” I replied.

“You got a favorite?” asked Bill or maybe it was Ed.

“A favorite what?” I replied.

“You know. Brothel. Whorehouse.”

“Don’t have one and don’t care,” I replied.

“What! You ain’t a eunuch, are you?”

“No. And none of your business.”

“Pheh. Suit yourself.”

That was the end of that, but they kept talking. Damn loud too. I was expecting Taoran to get them to shut up. With their yammering, everything would be able to hear us from miles away too.

Instead, our leader was having his own conversation with Tom ahead, something to do with the fighting pits. Even the so-called adventurers we hired back home had more discipline than this.

At least Knives kept his mouth shut.

Gradually, their voices were drowned out by crashing waves in the distance. We were approaching the seas.

The plains drew down and I could see the land drop to a cliff in the distance, beyond it were the flicker of waves along the water. Murky water shifted to and fro with the occasional splashes of white as it crashed against the rocks. At the edge of the cliffside were four figures, standing by a cart. There was also a ship, no bigger than a sloop floated in the distance. However, there was no dock or port to be seen. How in the twisting nether did they get to land?

“Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood. I have detected lifeforms with arcane capabilities ahead. They will be aware of my presence.”

“What?” I asked. “What are we supposed to do then?”

“They will not be able to detect me so long as I remain inactive.”

“Alright then.”

Del went silent. One of the figures was a mage. What was one of them doing here? I had doubts about this job and they were only worsened by this revelation. The locals deeply feared the arcane arts, and from my limited experience, for a good reason.

The breeze became stronger as we stepped closer. I resisted the urge to shiver. The figures ahead wore cloaks that concealed their faces and gave them a shade-like appearance. Two of them stood larger than the others, and there was a glint of steel under their clothes. From the two smaller figures, one carried a staff while the other carried a golden bow.

In the blink of an eye, the figure had the bow ready with an arrow nocked in our direction. One hand went to my sword while the other moved to create a barrier seal. I didn’t want to reveal my abilities but it was a better course of action than dying. Everyone drew their swords, all save Taoran.

“Hold!” Taoran Hawkwind replied. He took out a gold disc with the inscription of some bird upon it. “I believe we have a contract.”

“Not one step closer,” the figure said. Judging by her voice, it was a woman.

“Now, now Devera,” said the person with the staff, with a coarse voice. “Please lower your weapon. You are frightening our guests.”

Devera lowered her bow.

“I am sorry my master,” she said.

The person then stepped toward us, inching forward with his staff. He removed his hood, revealing a man with a bald head with a groomed mustache and beard.

“Apologies,” said the man. “We are unfamiliar with this land and its customs. It is only natural that my dear servant would be protective. May I take a closer look at the seal?”

“Of course,” said Taoran, stepping towards the man. Devera fidgeted ever so slightly.

The man squinted at the seal, then looked back at Taoran with a satisfied smile.

“As we were told by our mutual benefactor,” he said. “You are the Blackstone Irregulars I presume?”

“We are,” Taoran replied, putting away the seal.

“And I take it you understand the… discreet nature of our visit?” the man asked.

“Yes,” Taoran said. “We regard the privacy of our clients most highly.”

The man looked behind Taoran and gazed at us, almost like he was trying to judge whether we were trustworthy or not. He maintained a neutral expression throughout. It was impossible to determine whether he was satisfied or displeased.

“Good,” the man raised a hand.

The two remaining cloaked figures, drew up the wagon, ready to move. The contents of which were concealed by cloth. Devera slung the bow back in place.

“Let us be on our way then… ,” said the man.

We left the cliffside. Taoran led the way ahead with Tom. Knives and I walked right behind him. The strangers traveled behind us, with the Bill and Ed in the far rear. The trip onward was silent, much to my relief.

Still, I was uneasy.

I was having second-thoughts with the job. There was at least one mage here, maybe more. I saw what the last mage I ran into here could do. The memory of that… thing was still fresh on my mind. This wasn’t my world but I had no intention of assisting in anything that could be deemed malicious. Given this trip was happening late at night, and out of sight told me that whatever was happening was against the local laws.

Then again, the templars hadn’t leant much sympathy for their cause either. The way I saw them handle the situation back in the forest was horrific. Murder. For all I knew, perhaps this was just another mage trying to survive in a world that persecuted their kind. Why would they come to the city though?

The thoughts kept racing in my head, until I decided to put a stop to it. I was too exhausted, both mentally and physically, to make any rash decisions tonight. My obligation was getting back home alive, and for that I needed coin. This was all this was. Just a job.

Then Del’s voice rang in my head.

“Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood, I sense hostile lifeforms rapidly closing in to your location.”

“What?” I mouthed then stopped walking. “Where?”

The wagon stopped. I looked behind to see the bald man looking around with a concerned gaze. None of the other strangers seemed to react to Del’s voice. I guess that meant he was the mage.

“Master,” said Devera. “Is something wrong?”

“I sense something,” he said.

“Lifeforms approaching from all directions.”

“Thanks,” I mouthed. “You can quiet down now.”

“Something is coming,” I said, drawing my sword. “It is not friendly.”

“What?” Taoran said. “How do you know?”

“I just do!” I yelled.

The alarm came right on time because there was a sudden scrape and shrill of metal weapons all around us. Roars came from all sides. There were the shifting sounds of feet running across grass. I could see the shadows of movement within the moonlight. Whoever was attacking was approaching quickly.

Knives drew his daggers. Everyone else drew their weapons. Devera had her bow out with an arrow nocked, standing right by the bald man, who stood there, looking more concerned with whatever he sensed from Del than the impending threat.

I saw the outline of man rapidly approaching me. His weapon was raised high. As he stepped into torchlight I noticed it was a… shovel?

The weapon swung down and I blocked it with my sword. The wooden handle of the shovel crashed into the mithril blade and cracked in two. While the man stared at his now useless weapon, my fist collided with his face. He fell to the ground. I noticed his clothes, they looked like little more than rags, before turning my attention to the battle.

It was chaos. Enemies were charging at us from all sides. Visibility was poor. It was a scene of shifting blades, clashing steel, and whirls of movement.

Another man rushed at me, wielding what looked like a sickle. He was slashing in a blind fury. I dodged back a few steps before catching it with my sword and whipping the weapon out of his hands. As the sickle flew off, I kicked the man with my boot, sending him staggering into the night.

Taoran and Tom were handling themselves well. Fighting off any foes that stepped too close. The vast majority of the attackers however seemed to be running for the wagon guarded by the strange figures.

They were massacring anyone who stepped too close. They fought in a precise brutal fashion. Devera stood, firing arrows into the crowd with near perfect accuracy. Some of them whistled into the darkness, followed by yelps as they found their mark. I had no idea how she was able to see so well in the dark. The two men who had swords had them drawn, massacring anyone who stepped too close to them or to the wagon with impunity.

Three men encircled one of the cloaked figures. One of the bandits swung a hammer. There was a flash as the figure’s blade cut through the wooden handle and chopped the attacker in half. The remaining men turned tail and tried to run, but the cloaked figure was faster. Two rapid swipes and two headless bodies fell to the ground.

The bald-headed man, did nothing.

Another man rushed towards me, this time with a hoe. I dispatched him like I did with the others.

It was strange. Their attack was disjointed and lacked coordination. The weapons too were odd. A wooden pole? A sickle? They fought more like desperate men than cutthroats.

I saw Knives who was up against two opponents holding rakes. He deftly dodged and parried their blows. Then I saw a man appear behind him, holding a sickle up high. Knives hadn’t noticed the newest attacker.

“Look out!” I yelled and rushed forward, but I wasn’t fast enough.

Knives swerved from another swing of the rake when the sickle swept through him, drawing blood. He gasped, dropping to the ground, clutching his wounded side.

The man with the rake raised his hands in a final blow when I slammed into him, knocking him into the darkness. The man with the sickle swung and I blocked it with the flat of my sword then punched him in the face. He went down, blood trickling from his nose.

There were no more foes nearby. I looked back down at Knives.

“You okay?” I asked and offered a hand.

He slapped it away. One hand grasping the wound then grabbed his remaining knife before leaning back up.

Well, I was only trying to help.

The fighting drew to a close, as the remaining attackers were taken down or had fled. Corpses and wounded men surrounded us. Taoran and the remaining mercenaries were stepping around, finishing off the wounded.

“You picked the wrong target,” Taoran yelled, grabbing the man by the cuff of his shirt.

“Please!” the man said. “We-We weren’t trying to hurt no one.”

“Too bad,” he said then dropped the man. He raised his sword high.

“No!” the man pleaded. “Don’t!”

Taoran’s sword fell, silencing him for good. I winced. I actively avoided killing humans unless it was absolutely necessary. Especially given the men who attacked us. They seemed more desperate than cutthroat.

Nobody on our side had fallen. Tom or one of the other mercenaries finished off another wounded and immediately begin rummaging through his belongings. He took the contents and put them in his pockets. Typical mercs.

This was just another job. I looked away from the looting toward Knives. He stood to the side, one hand over the area the sickle struck him.

I tossed him a cloth roll from my belt pouch. It landed on the ground in front of him. “Here,” I said. “Wrap yourself up.”

The cloaked figure didn’t respond, but he did pick up the roll. He slowly wrapped it around the wound. The bloodstain on his cloak looked ugly and jagged. The man clearly didn’t want my help though.

I noticed the bald man step towards one of the wounded. He crouched down at the terrified man and lifted his chin up with a hand.

“Hm… ,” he said. “Malnourished as expected, but in otherwise good health. Yes… this is good stock.”

“Everything okay?” Taoran said, wiping the blood off his sword on the clothes of a corpse.

“Yes,” the bald man replied. “I must commend your skill in handling the situation. It was most impressive.”

I had a feeling that if we hadn’t been here, the strangers would have been able to handle this all on their own.

The bald man let go of the man, leaving him to slowly bleed out from the ground.

“Actually… ,” the bald man said, then looked at one of the cloaked figures. The figure procured a pouch of coins, and offered it to Taoran.

“You’re payment as promised,” the bald man said.

“But we haven’t made it to our destination,” Taoran said.

“We will be able to find our way there without your assistance. For now-“. He looked at the corpses surrounding him. “We have found ourselves in the midst of an opportunity.”

“Very well then,” Taoran said, accepting the bag of coins from the figure.

“We shall be in touch,” said the bald man.

“Come on lads,” said Taoran. “Lets return home.”

“Bleh,” said one of the mercenaries. “Only found five coppers on the corpses. Nothing else worth taking.”

We left the strangers amidst the corpses, an ominous feeling left in my core as they grew more distant.

The west gate of Denerim was in sight, along with the light from campfires in the outskirts. The road was in sight as well. I thanked the light. Each step was a step towards food and rest.

Knives tripped and fell to the ground.

“Eh,” said Tom. “Is he alright?”

I moved over to the fallen man. His breathing was shallow. Blood slowly dripped out of his side.

“He’s wounded,” I said.

The remaining mercenaries came back from the commotion. “What is going on?” Taoran asked.

“Knives got wounded a while back,” I said.

Taoran moved a torch to get a closer look at the wound then sighed.

“That’s a lot of bleeding,” he said.

“Looks like he won’t make it,” said Ed. “Guess he won’t need that silver then.” He reached down for the sack tied to the man’s belt. Knives shirked back.

“Leave him be,” I said.

“What?” said Ed. “If he is going to die, he ain’t going to need the coin on his way to meet the Maker.”

“I’ll take care of him.” I said.

“You just want his coin to yourself,” Ed said. “I spoke first so I call dibs.”

“You will leave him be,” I replied.

“And what are you going to do about it? Cause I don’t take orders from fresh-meat,” said Ed, his hand creeping toward his sword.

“I wouldn’t mess with im if I were you,” said Bill. “He took out Balt all by himself.”

Ed thought about it and drew back down.

“What do you want to do boss?” asked Tom.

“Leave him on the road,” said Taoran. “He earned his coin, but I ain’t paying for a healer.”

“Are you seriously going to let one of your own die?” I asked.

“Maker helps those who help themselves. It’s all part of the profession you see,” said Taoran as he turned back towards Denerim. “Besides I’ve lost more coins than I can count from his wins at the fighting pits. Barely won it back today.”

The rest of them turned to follow him. All except for me.

“I’m taking care of him,” I said.

“Suit yourself,” Taoran replied.

They trudged onwards, leaving Knives and I on the side of the hill. I kneeled next to him and placed my torch close to the dirt.

“Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood, how does assisting this lifeform further our pursuits?”

“I don’t have a good answer but I’m not leaving him to die here,” I said. Funny, especially after witnessing what was essentially mass murder just a few hours ago. I was almost complicit in it.

The Lorekeeper didn’t reply. This was troublesome, but I welcomed his silence. I had a life to save now.

I could barely see even with torchlight but the glimmer of blood was present. The liquid was seeping through the bandage. This wasn’t good. I The way he tied the bandage was doing nothing to stem it, and I doubted the physical exertion from the walk was helping in any way shape or form. I reached into my belt to grab my last cloth roll.

My hand moved towards the wound. He weakly tried to slap it away.

“I can either help you or leave you for dead,” I said. “Which will it be?”

Knives didn’t respond, but his land limped down to the ground.

“I’m going to have to control the bleeding,” I said. “I only have a wad of cloth left but I’ll need something to wrap it off. I’m going to need some more fabric.” I reached for his shawl.

He tried to push my hand away.

“Do you want to live or die?” I said. “I don’t care what you look like under there.”

He dropped his hand, slowly. I couldn’t tell if that was a yes or if he was too weak to resist.

I carefully unwrapped the shawl, revealing a young face and long hair tied into a bun. I recognized the sharp pointed ears anywhere. An elf, a female elf at that. She looked barely older than those Dalish I met weeks ago, probably the same age as that girl I met on the streets this afternoon.

Well at least I knew why she kept himself wrapped up. Something told me an armed elf wouldn’t be treated too kindly out in public. Especially one dabbling in mercenary work.

I had questions but they could wait until later. I had to focus on the task at hand. I unsheathed my sword and cut the cloth in half lengthwise. I removed the bandage and layered it until it became something akin to a pad.

I pressed the pad against the wound. She gasped. I lifted her back with a hand to make space as I wrapped the torn shawl over the pad and around her. After several rotations, I tied it down over the makeshift dressing, keeping pressure on the wound. That should keep the bleeding down.

Sweat trickled down her brow and her head tilted to the side.

“Hey!” I said, tapping her cheek. “I need you to stay awake.”

It was futile. She was going into shock. There was nothing more I could do out in the grass. She needed better care. I turned around and lifted her onto my back.

“I need you to talk,” I said. “If you go to sleep here you’ll never wake up. What’s your name?”

“Ka..”

“Ka?” I walked toward the city. “

“Kal…” Her head drooped down as she fell unconscious.

“Damn it! Come on!” I said, as we rushed toward the city.