Chapter Text
They overstayed their welcome and the Hawke family knew it. They waited in Lothering well past the time most had fled, hoping that Carver, the one soldier among them, would arrive alive and safe from Ostagar despite the losses the army had taken, and then when he arrived he didn’t want to leave, and a battle of wills ensued. Finally they had no choice. The darkspawn were upon them. They barely made it out of the village alive. The three siblings, brother Carver and sisters Felicity and Bethany, had to fight hard to protect themselves and their mother Leandra as they tried to find a way through the horde. Around a blind corner, they found a redheaded warrior woman and a dark-haired templar fighting their own battle against the darkspawn. The templar was badly wounded, so they joined forces to help them, despite the fact that both Hawke sisters did their fighting with illicit magic.
When the darkspawn were gone, the templar turned his attention to the mages, wound all but forgotten. “Apostate, keep your distance,” he said.
Bethany made a noise in her throat that sounded like derision. “I can’t believe it. Darkspawn and now a templar? I thought they all abandoned Lothering.”
“Wesley,” the redhead admonished. “Darling, these people saved us.”
“These women are apostates. The Order dictates,” the Templar, Wesley, said, stepping forward, a little uncertainly now.
“Wesley,” the redhead said again. “The Maker understands.”
“The Order dictates…”
Felicity, the elder sibling amongst the three, and the strongest personality of them all, stepped in front of her sister and took a threatening stance. “Wesley, please,” the redhead said again, and the Templar backed down at last.
“Of course,” he said, looking anywhere but at the girls.
“Thank you, Wesley,” the redhead said. She addressed the Hawkes directly. “I am Aveline Vallen. This is my husband Ser Wesley. We can hate each other when we’re safe. For now, we’re with you.”
“How bad is that wound?” Felicity asked, dropping her threat pose on the instant.
“I think my sword arm is a loss, even with healing,” Wesley said.
“Then you will have mine, as always,” Aveline said, giving him loving green eyes as she shored him up on his lame side.
“Which way do we go from here?” Felicity asked.
“North is cut off,” Aveline said. “The bulk of the horde is in that direction.”
“Then we’re surrounded,” Carver said, almost panicked. “The Wilds are to the south, that’s no way to go.”
“If the options are ‘south or die,’ I say we go south,” Felicity said, and set off in that direction.
When you’re hemmed in on all sides, fleeing is difficult. They fought their way through a multitude of darkspawn until they thought they might be in the clear, but that was not the case. It was no small wonder that they shortly fled directly into a small horde of the nasty creatures. Led by an ogre. The ogre wanted to kill. It spotted Leandra, the mother of the family Hawke. Bethany was all that stood in the way.
“Maker give me strength,” she said under her breath as she cast a simple fireball spell, the best offensive spell she knew, in what could only be a vain attempt to defend her mother. The ogre reached out to grab her and crush her in its grip…
…and someone came crashing into it, howling an old-time Rebel Yell from Maric’s Rebellion. Bethany was knocked off her feet and the ogre stumbled a step or two, and the banshee-person, a man unfamiliar to any of them at this point, clung to it as a timberjack clung to the bole of a giant tree. He continued to make his ungodly noise while he drove what looked to be a darkspawn corrupted longsword repeatedly into the ogre’s face, with a certain malicious gusto that could not be denied. Even when the creature fell he continued to stab it, in a wild frenzy of murderous lust, until finally he hopped off, wiped some of the black bloody gore off his narrow, hatchet-carved face, and turned to face what remained of the horde. Felicity, Carver, and Aveline were doing their damnedest to keep them at bay, and after regaining composure Bethany joined in as well, but even with the two mages it was an uphill battle. The man muscled his way to the fore and assumed a belligerent stance that screamed “Come and get me if you dare” and let loose a battle cry that knocked everyone -- human and darkspawn -- off their feet. The man stood there with his long black hair sticky with blood, war braids coming undone, patchwork clothes torn and bloody, pale grey-blue eyes wild and angry, and when the darkspawn regained their feet, they fled.
The man’s stance relaxed and he dropped to his ass on the dirt as the others were cautiously rising to their feet. “That won’t hold them off for long,” he said, in a harsh voice that trembled with exhaustion. “But we’ve got maybe a minute or two to catch our breath. Does anyone have a water skin they can share a sip from? I’ve been running on dry since Ostagar.”
“I have some,” Felicity said, and passed him her skin. “Thank you for helping us. My sister might have died if not for you.”
He drank a small sip from the skin, recapped it and handed it back with a quick thanks. “No problem. I hate those damn things. Get a certain satisfaction from killing them, even though it hurts like hell. Don’t know why you’re headed south; the whole damn horde is that way.”
“North is cut off, too. We’re bloody surrounded,” Aveline said. She peered closely at the man. “You’re a damn fine warrior, Ser.”
“Yeah, that’s what they tell me. Didn’t help a tinker’s damn at Ostagar.”
“There’s only one person I’ve ever heard of who can actually repel enemies with a war cry, and you look an awful lot like him,” she continued.
“I should. I am him.”
“But… General Loghain left the battlefield. He took his men back to Denerim days ago,” she stammered out, green eyes wide.
“That wasn’t me. Somebody slipped me a pretty potent mickey the night before the battle. First thing I remember is waking up two days ago bound hand and foot stripped bare in the middle of a camp swarming with goblin faces. I don’t know how I survived. Dumb luck or a guardian angel. I lean toward dumb luck. I’d like to know just exactly what happened while I was out, but I think the questionnaire will have to wait. Darkspawn will be upon us sooner rather than later.”
He climbed to his feet. He seemed to be in considerable pain. “Are you injured, My Lord?” Felicity asked.
“Two or three places, nothing too significant. Nothing that anyone need worry about. Mostly just tired. It’s been quite the run. I’m sure your brother and Lieutenant Vallen can sympathize. And don’t call me that, I hate it.”
“How did you know my -- ” Aveline began, but she was cut off by an encroaching horde of darkspawn. They readied themselves for the assault and began their defense. Together they were almost an army unto themselves, but they were hopelessly outnumbered and surrounded on all sides.
“There’s no end to them,” Carver said, backing into the middle of the clearing with his blade held out before him. Aveline made a bulwark of herself on one side of the group while Loghain, though shieldless, attempted to do the same on the other. Things were clearly grim. Then…
…a roar, quite as loud as Loghain’s battle cry, but coming from some distance above them. They all looked up, and saw on the rock above a mighty High Dragon unfurl its wings and swoop down upon them. It let out a blast of flame that roasted the darkspawn where they stood, then swooped back and roasted the darkspawn on the other side. It came in for a landing on the burning grass around them but as it did, a light suffused its body and it changed, turning smoothly from dragon into elderly -- but powerful -- woman. Her white hair was tied back in swoops that resembled a dragon’s horns. Her garments were made of dragon skin and dragon scale and decorated with raven feathers. As she walked toward them, dragging the burning corpse of a darkspawn part of the way, her yellow eagle eyes scanned them with a species of half-interested curiosity.
Felicity Hawke stepped towards her, keeping her family back. “I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t saved us,” she said, keeping her tone polite even as she remained wary.
The woman looked at her for a moment, a strange thin smile playing about her lips, and then said, “I do. You would have perished. You still may.” She then turned and took a few steps away.
Bethany stepped forward. “You can’t just leave us here!” she cried.
The woman half-turned and looked at her, then fully turned and took a few steps toward them. “Can I not? I spotted a most unusual sight: A mighty ogre, vanquished. Who could be capable of such a feat? But now my curiosity is sated and I find myself not even surprised. And you are alive, for the moment. Is that not enough?”
“I thought I recognized you,” Loghain said. “I have to say, Old Woman, you look a bit different than last time we met. Not so old and creaky. Strange, given the number of years between then and now.”
“And you look much older and creakier, Loghain Mac Tir, not that it makes much of a difference to you in the long run. After the exhibition you gave them, I felt I needed to impress these young people,” she said with another thin smile.
“Appearing as a dragon was a good, healthy start. I suppose it was you, then, at the battle of River Dane?” he asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
Her strange smile broadened a sliver, but still did not reach her eyes. “If it were, would that change anything?”
“I suppose not. Thanks for the assist, I guess. If it was you.”
“You’ve lightened up since that young man with the huge chip on his shoulder.”
“Depends on who you ask.”
She laughed, a harsh, unpleasant sound. “You know, I may actually be starting to like you, Mac Tir.”
“Charmed,” he said with something of a sneer.
“Ah, there’s the snarky young man I remember,” she said, no longer smiling. She turned her attention back to Felicity. “And what of you, child? I can be quite sure enough where he is going. He will run full-tilt back into battle with all the demons aligned against him. Where are you going, hmm?”
“We have to get to Kirkwall, in the Free Marches,” Carver said, unbidden.
“Kirkwall? My, but that is quite the voyage you plan. So far, merely to flee the darkspawn?”
“Our home was destroyed, and we have no place else to go,” Felicity said. “We have family in Kirkwall, and a home waiting for us.”
“I daresay Loghain will persuade you not to go there despite that,” the woman said. “Still, you will get there in the fullness of time, and for that, I may have a use for you.”
She turned away again and spoke to herself. “Is it fate or chance? I can never decide.” She turned back. “It seems fortune smiles on us all today. I can help you yet.”
Bethany spoke up. “Should we trust her? I don’t even know what she is.”
“I know what she is,” Aveline said, close by her injured husband Wesley’s side. “The Witch of the Wilds.”
“Some call me that. Your friend Loghain might have called me the ‘Woman of Many Years,’ if he were prone to such courtesies. I have other names. Flemeth. Asha Belannar. ‘An old hag who talks too much.’” The witch chuckled deep in her throat. “But no matter. I offer to help you in exchange for a small delivery to be made whenever you arrive in Kirkwall to a place not far out of your way. Would you do this for a ‘Witch of the Wilds’?”
“What do the rest of you think? Should we trust her?” Felicity asked.
“Wesley is injured. We’ll never make it past the darkspawn,” Aveline said.
Wesley coughed. “If you need to, leave me behind,” he said. His eyes were clouding over already from the corruption of his wound.
“No! I said I would drag you out of here if I had to, and I meant it,” Aveline said.
“Just one second -- what is this delivery, and why don’t you care when it gets delivered?” Loghain asked, pale eyes narrowed.
“When you’re as old as I am, patience becomes something beyond a mere virtue,” the witch replied.
He shrugged and turned to the group at large. “She helped Maric and I, long ago -- for her own reasons, not that I ever figured out what those reasons were. I’d say it’s better to be on her good side than her bad side.”
“Ha! You have learned!” the witch said.
“I suppose we have no choice,” Felicity said.
“We never do,” the witch said. She stepped forward and presented the young woman with a small trinket. “There is a Dalish clan camped on the side of Sundermount outside Kirkwall. Take this amulet to them and present it to their Keeper, Marethari. Do this, and any debt between us is paid in full.”
“You have my word.”
“Very well, then. I will get you to Gwaren, where the darkspawn are not particularly interested in going, thanks to the dangers of the Brecilian. Not to say that they won’t go there, but probably not en masse, not at first. From there you can take a ship, if you are lucky enough to find one still taking passengers, or take the Passage to Denerim if you’re brave or stupid enough. With Loghain in your party, you’re probably both. Before I take you anywhere, however, there is another matter.” She looked at Wesley and took a step toward where he lay against the stones.
“No, leave him alone,” Aveline said, standing.
“What has been done to your man is within his blood already,” the witch said, looking remarkably sympathetic.
“No. You lie,” Aveline said aggressively.
“She’s right, Aveline,” Wesley said. “I can feel the corruption burning inside of me.”
“We have to help him!” Felicity said.
“The only cure I know of is to become a Grey Warden,” the witch said.
“And they all died at Ostagar,” Aveline said, falling to her knees beside her husband again.
“Not all, but the last are now beyond your reach.”
“The only cure you know of? Really?” Loghain said, looking at the witch shrewdly. “Nothing else you know of in all your years and all your wisdom?”
“The Blight is unique. It goes beyond my powers,” the witch said.
“Aveline, listen… the corruption is a slow… death. I can’t…” Wesley said, coughing.
“You can’t ask me this. You can’t.”
Loghain walked up behind her and put one big hand on her shoulder. She hung her ginger-haired head, then looked with some pleading in her green eyes at Felicity, who knelt down nearby and said, “He’s your husband, Aveline. I can’t decide his fate.”
Aveline nodded slowly, steel creeping into her gaze. Wesley drew his own dagger and put it into her hand. “Be strong, my love,” he whispered. They shared a long last look, and Aveline plunged the dagger straight through his armor and into his heart. He died with a final gasp and she made sure to close his eyes.
“Without an end, there can be no peace,” the witch said. “Your struggles have only just begun. Now. To our bargain, before the darkspawn amass in this vicinity again.”
The witch raised her arms above her head and a strange light rose up in a tornado around her and grew to encompass the entire party. A sickening lurch to the stomach, and they were in an entirely different place, surrounded by a thick growth of ancient trees, on the verge of a tiny village that bustled with frantic people. No one seemed to notice their strange arrival.
“Hmph. Gwaren. Magic. Damned useful stuff, but it always makes me twitchy,” Loghain said, with a swipe at his beaky nose with the back of one hand.
“There. My side of the bargain is fulfilled. I’ll be leaving now,” the witch said, and made to step into the woods.
“Hold on a minute,” Loghain said. “I have one question for you, one I’ve been sitting on a long time now. You told Maric I’d betray him. How did I ever betray him?”
“Well, there was that time you slept with his woman, right under his very nose,” she said, with a bit of a laugh in her voice.
Loghain shifted on his feet, his face undergoing a series of uncomfortable expression changes in a matter of seconds. “She wasn’t his woman. They were betrothed, but he didn’t own her. He didn’t even want her. He was fucking an elven spy not ten steps away from her and she came to me. I don’t see that as a betrayal. He’s the one who tore her heart out of her chest. I only made her go back to him because I knew she had to be queen.”
“You’re right.”
“Then why do you say I betrayed him? Moreover, you said that I would do it more than once.”
“My dear boy, I was looking at Maric when I spoke those words, but I was speaking them… to you.”
He jerked his head back. “What? You mean… Maric never betrayed me.”
“Oh ho ho. You were his friend, true, but you were also his favorite tool. He used you, my boy, and never felt terribly badly about it, either. You’re not stupid. You know this.”
“Maric needed my aid. Ferelden needed my aid.”
“That’s what he told you. But he had a bevy of assassins and spies and people of all stripes to do his dirty work for him. He didn’t need to dirty your hands all the time. He knew you were fragile. He didn’t care.”
“Who are you calling fragile?” Loghain said, adopting a belligerent stance.
“And how often do you cry yourself to sleep at night, picturing the faces of strangers you’ve murdered in the name of the King? In the name of Duty?” the witch said, narrowed eyes and laughing lips. “How often do you huddle at the bottom of the wardrobe just to sit there and shake, picturing the blood on your hands, knowing that so many of your ‘duties’ were no more than ploys for your king to grow his power and influence and not for the sake of your nation at all?”
“Maric’s power and influence was for the sake of Ferelden,” Loghain near-shouted.
The witch was silent for a moment, then said, “You go on telling yourself that. Perhaps one of these days you’ll come to believe it. You may not believe my words, but I am rather proud of you, my boy. Thus far, you have done well to keep your rage from consuming you. That little wife of yours helped you more than I might have expected she would. My advice? Find yourself another woman. You don’t do as well on your own. And now, I take my leave.” And, with that, she walked into the depths of the forest and swiftly disappeared from view.
Everyone in the small group exchanged uncertain glances with each other, except for Loghain, who remained in his belligerent stance in the middle of them all, staring into the forest in the direction the witch had gone. “Er, I suppose we should head into the village?” Bethany ventured. “It looks pretty wild there, but hopefully we can catch a ship. Get resupplied, at least, if there are no more boats leaving the harbor today.”
“I didn’t think Gwaren was so big,” Carver said. “Looks like there’s more people than houses.”
Loghain shook himself out of his annoyance and looked toward the village again. “There are. Refugees, fleeing the darkspawn, I expect, like us. Looks like they’re making a grand old mess of themselves, too. Probably trying to get shipboard and leave, but Gwaren harbor isn’t that big for all we export from this place. Ships don’t make port here that often. Most of our product goes overland.”
“What are we going to do, then?” Leandra asked. “We have to get to the Free Marches.”
“Are you really so set on leaving? I heard you say you have family there, but Ferelden is your home, isn’t she?” Loghain said.
“She’s our home,” Felicity said, “but mother is a native Kirkwaller.”
“But you and your sister are apostates. Surely you don’t think it’s safe to put yourself forward in the City of Untoward Templars?”
“Well, no, but we don’t have anything else.”
“I have plenty. I can help you set yourselves up again just fine. Come with me to Denerim. I have to arrange a face-to-face meeting with this other me.”
“I don’t know that I trust him any further than that witch,” Carver said. “What if we go with him and he’s the fake?”
“What if we don’t go with him and he’s the real thing?” Aveline said. “If the false Teyrn Loghain has Maric’s Shield at his back, ousting him will be difficult. His Lordship will need all the help he can get.”
“Especially if my daughter somehow can’t tell the difference between us,” Loghain said. “Does this man really look so much like me?”
“Down to a tee, Ser,” Aveline said. “I don’t know where they found someone so much like you. I would have said you were unique in all Thedas.”
“And he… did not call the flanking charge?”
Aveline shook her head sadly. “The King… most of the rest of the army… They all died. It was a massacre, Ser. That you live is a miracle.”
“I don’t know why the darkspawn didn’t kill me while I was lying there bound in my smallclothes, sleeping,” Loghain said, running a hand through his scruffy hair in dismay. “Maybe they thought I was already dead. Lucky me, I guess. So Cailan is… damn it. Damn it all. And half the bloody army gone in a blow. All those men and women gone too soon, in a battle that was useless from the beginning but should never have ended that way. Damn it to the Void. And what’s left of my army under the command of some clever fake who’s now no doubt after my daughter, along with every noble in the nation. I’ve got to get back to Denerim. As quickly as possible.”
“You have my sword, Ser,” Aveline said.
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
The Hawke sisters looked at their brother, who crossed his arms belligerently over his chest and set his face in a scowl. “I don’t trust this. Even if he is the real Loghain, just who is it we’re going after? What kind of mess would we be getting involved in? I don’t fancy getting killed.”
“Some soldier you are,” Aveline said. “This is your General.”
“For all I know, my General left me on the field to die,” Carver groused.
“Leave the boy alone, Lieutenant,” Loghain said, when it seemed as though Aveline was ready to take arms against the young man. “Tearing into him is a job for his mother and sisters and it looks as though his sisters are about to.”
“Carver,” Felicity said, setting her shoulders very straight. “You. Didn’t want to leave Lothering. You’re the reason we almost didn’t make it out in time. Now what, you’re so anxious to get away you’d spurn an offer from the Teyrn of Gwaren that would allow us to stay in our homeland? Where we can be safe from the templars?”
“I don’t see where we’re safe. He’s just pitting us against a different enemy, one we’re not sure of. And we’re not sure that he’s the Teyrn of Gwaren! The guy on the flank at the Battle of Ostagar looked just the same. King Cailan couldn’t tell the difference, apparently.” Carver turned his attention to Loghain. “You said you woke up naked in the camp at Ostagar and have been running hell bent for leather ever since. You’re dressed now, though. Where’d you get the clothes, eh?”
“Honnleath,” Loghain said evenly. “The darkspawn hadn’t hit it yet when I reached it. The villagers were pretty upset by the sight of a naked man bursting out of the woods, but they gave me some castoffs to wear, which was nice of them. Couldn’t wait around for food or water or even to make sure they got out of there, but I warned them of the horde, so hopefully they took heed and got the blazes elsewhere.”
“So you just ran naked through the Korcari Wilds in a random direction and happened to find yourself in Honnleath?”
“No, I ran for Honnleath. I know my way through the Wilds.”
“No man knows his way through the Wilds.”
“Little boys who piss their pants at old legends don’t know the Wilds, but I do know them. I’ve been through them many times since the day the witch saved Maric and I long ago.”
“Why didn’t you come straight to Lothering?” Bethany asked. “That’s where the army went.”
“That’s also the direction the horde went. I figured I couldn’t fight my way through that many darkspawn alone. I circled around that direction in the hope of gaining the Imperial Highway and easy trekking, but those hopes were dashed. Don’t know how I happened upon you lot when I did. I was just about ready to give up on the idea of making it back by then.”
Bethany looked at her twin brother imploringly. “Come on, Carver. We have to do this. For Ferelden’s sake.”
“Hmph. Do what you’re going to do, then. Since when has my voice ever borne any weight in this family?” he said, scowling.
Felicity looked at Leandra. “Well, what do you think, Mother?”
Leandra shrugged. “I think it will be dangerous, but… it probably is an offer too good to refuse. Oh, but do be careful, my darlings, please.”
“All right. We’ll stop here long enough to get resupplied, but we need to get a move on quickly. It’s a long, dangerous ride to Denerim, but quicker than taking a boat, if we could even get one,” Loghain said. “You can all ride horses, can’t you?”
“I’ve never been on a horse before,” Bethany said.
“I haven’t, either, but I’m sure I can manage,” Felicity said.
“Good girl. It’s not that hard, and I’ve got good horses in my stables here at the Keep. If you’re unsure about it, dear, you can ride double with me. You can’t ride very fast through the Passage anyway.”
“What’s so dangerous about this forest, anyway?” Felicity asked. “The witch said even the darkspawn wouldn’t want to pass through it.”
“Oh, the usual things. Thick growth, wild animals, Dalish elves,” Loghain said with a careless shrug. “It’s not so bad if you keep your head. The locals here have a healthy respect for it. They would: most of them make their living off of it one way or another. They say the forest watches, and remembers, and holds a grudge. A lot of men from Gwaren have gone into the Brecilian to work over the years and just… never come back.”
“Are the Dalish really dangerous?” Bethany asked. “That witch expects us to walk right up to some of them.”
“They can be, if you’re not careful. They’re not particularly trusting of humankind. But that’s why they stick to the wild spaces: so they don’t encounter us. They’re generally not looking for fights. Some of the clans that pass through these woods stop and send some of their hunters into the village to trade every now and then, but that’s pretty rare. Gwaren gets along with them about as well as it may be possible to get along with them in this day and age,” Loghain said, as he picked up and snapped a twig in his hands.
“The Brecilian Forest is your land, isn’t it?” Carver asked. “You let wild elves just wander through?”
“What am I going to do about it? Most of the time I don’t even know they’re there. And why should I care? It’s not like I have any use for the land myself. If they want to live there, they’re welcome to it. I’d like to give it to them, provided Gwaren could still harvest what little she needs from it, but I don’t think that would go over well at the Landsmeet. They already call me the Elf-Lover, not that I give a damn what they think. Giving over a large portion of my private lands to the Dalish would probably see me out on my ass.”
“It probably would, but I like the idea,” Felicity said.
“Can we quit all this discussion now and go get something done? We’ve been standing here for what feels like hours. In a moment a sylvan will come out of the forest and snatch us up,” Loghain said.
“What’s a sylvan?” Bethany asked.
“Never mind, just… follow me.” Loghain led the way into the crowded village, where a man in fine clothes and a handful of local militia were trying to quell the morass at the small harbor. Locals appeared to be fighting with ragged refugees over what few boats were docked. The few militia clearly had their hands full. Loghain muscled his way to the fore and shouted for order. Everyone stopped fighting at once and stared.
“Oh, Your Grace, am I glad to see you. But I thought -- the news was you were in Denerim,” the fine-dressed man said.
“The news is wrong, Cort,” Loghain said. “What’s going on, here?”
“There’s only one ship left leaving port, and not enough room for all the refugees that want to leave Ferelden. A riot broke out between the refugees and the locals when the refugees began trying to steal the locals’ fishing boats.”
“Riot,” one of the locals, a large man Loghain knew well as a local timberjack, said with a sneer.. “More like a stampede. “We’re just tryin’ to help the militia boys quell the animals.”
“They’re just afraid for their lives,” Bethany said.
“One thing to know about a Gwarener is that they bear little love for those from ‘Away,’” Loghain said. “That said, they’ll take good care of anyone, no matter who they are, unless they’re Orlesian I suppose.” He raised his voice. “Good people, there is no need for this. The darkspawn will not brave what scarce paths lie to Gwaren as you did. Stay here, you will be safe. Provisions will be brought to you from the Keep and the locals will help you -- not always gracefully, perhaps, but willingly enough.”
The refugees seemed unwillingly to relax, shared looks among themselves and then looked to the locals, who backed off a few steps. “How do you know the darkspawn won’t come here?” someone said.
“Because Ferelden will deal with them, just as soon as I deal with whomever it is who’s stolen my army,” Loghain said.
Some head scratching and general confusion, but the crowd slowly began to disperse. Loghain turned around. “All right, let’s head to the Keep. We need supplies and horses: we’ve got to get out of here and on to Denerim as swiftly as possible, for Anora’s sake. I won’t leave her in danger a moment longer than necessary.”