Vesryn had been to the Western Approach before, on occasion, and he knew it to be a place that didn't really bother with winter.
It might've been refreshing, if not for the heavy plate armor he wore. A request for aid from a Grey Warden after a year of silence was not to be treated lightly, and so the advance party came ready for battle, or at least a bloody skirmish. Vesryn gripped the shaft of a spear, holding the weapon upright while his horse made its way across the sands. He looked every bit the elven knight; looking his way at an inopportune moment could cause a flash of sunlight to reflect off his armor into one's eyes. Far from inconspicuous, but any travelers this far away from civilization would be treated with scrutiny.
The Western Approach was a mix of dusty sand dunes and rock crags and canyons that made for difficult travel. Strong winds often blew through the natural tunnels, buffeting the small party as they advanced, but they kept up at a steady pace. There was plenty of daylight left to them, and they hoped to make contact with this Grey Warden before dusk.
The Avenarius twins rode behind him, along with Asala and the Kirkwall guard captain who was the cause of all of this. A balanced and effective group should they come to conflict, and Vesryn strongly suspected that Lady Marceline was not fond of the idea of sending both Inquisitors out together, considering what had become of their most recent ventures. It was hard to argue with that. This time, however, they were walking into an obviously dubious situation, which somehow put Vesryn at ease.
They rode under the shade of a canyon wall in a somewhat narrow ravine, settling their eyes on the small Inquisition campsite that Lia and her scouts had already set up. The lead scout was waiting for them there, and Vesryn was the first to dismount before her. "Lovely place to make a hideout," he commented dryly.
"No argument here," Lia answered, shrugging. "We've had sightings of other Wardens in the area, though. Small groups, probably search parties. I don't think we're the only ones looking for Nostariel here." She pointed out of the ravine. "They seem to be coming from the southwest, but it's been too risky to push that way. Nostariel should be a little to the north of here, anyhow."
“I thought they'd disappeared," Estella murmured, brows furrowing over her eyes. Shaking her head slightly, she spoke a little louder. “There's something about this I don't like." She shifted a bit, resting a hand on Nox's nose. “Anything else you can tell us about the landscape, Lia?"
"This might be where they've disappeared to," she answered, not sounding particularly relieved about it either. "There's sandstorms every now and then, and some really mean local wildlife. If we need to make a foothold here, it's going to take a lot more of our forces than this. Rhys said he even spotted a high dragon flying west, but with any luck we won't need to deal with that."
"I think it would really complete our day, to be honest," Vesryn pitched in, leaning on his spear. "There are strategic locations around here, aren't there? Armies have passed through before."
"Yeah, there's a fort to the northwest, it looks to be in pretty good shape. There's someone taking up residence there, but again, we couldn't get close enough to learn much more. Sorry about that." She pulled her water skin from her belt and took a swig, swishing it around in her mouth a bit before swallowing. She then set it aside and replaced it with her bow. "Need to rest a bit, or should we head out? Shouldn't be more than an hour or two to get to Nostariel."
Estella glanced around at the others, none of whom seemed to be overtired or especially in need of a break, then nodded. “We should get there as soon as we can. I'm not sure what's going on, and I think we'll do better the less time we spend in the dark about it." Hopping back into the saddle, she settled herself in place and squinted out at the desert landscape ahead.
“If you'd be so kind as to lead on?"
"Sure thing." She clicked her tongue, calling her horse over, and soon enough they were mounted and on the move again. Quickly they were off the beaten path and mounting small dunes, twisting and winding through more ravines and along cliff sides. They were fortunate enough not to be caught in any of the sandstorms Lia spoke of, but after a while they could hear the sounds of a fight. Swords slashing against toughened hide, strains of effort.
They picked up a bit of speed and rounded the corner of a rock wall. At the base of a dune were a trio of Grey Wardens, two in full plate carrying greatswords, a third in lighter armor wielding a short sword and dagger. One of the warriors pulled his sword free from the body of a varghest, an elongated, scaly creature with a wicked set of fangs and claws. It appeared that the Wardens hadn't been looking for the fight, but none of them looked to be meaningfully injured. Upon sighting the party, the Wardens simply stared for a moment, their expressions hidden behind their helmets, but then one of them waved.
"Greetings, strangers," she called. "What brings you out here?"
"Dragon hunting," Vesryn answered almost immediately, smiling cordially. "I've heard there's a fine beast in these parts. We came to collect ourselves a trophy." He didn't doubt they could do it, either, with this group. Certainly they could give a dragon a run for its money, at least. The Wardens seemed less convinced, though it was difficult to tell by their body language alone.
"Aye, we've seen the creature you're looking for, headed west. Hardly the only danger here, though. You should be careful." The dual-wielding member of the Warden party sheathed his weapons, stepping up beside the warrior that had greeted them.
"Perhaps you can help us," he said. "We seek a pair of renegade Wardens: a man and a woman, the woman an elven mage. Lean, blonde hair. You haven't seen anyone like that recently, have you?"
The guard captain made a show looking toward the west where the Warden said the dragon was before leaning over to Asala. "I told them," he said under his breath, though it was still audible to the others. Asala answered him with only an arched brow and a weak chuckle. Before the other Warden had finished describing the renegades, Ashton had already urged his horse forward. "Can't say that we have. Actually, you fellows might be some of the more friendly faces we've seen today. Damn more friendly than that one, that's for sure," Ashton said, tilting his chin toward the slain varghest.
He looked thoughtful for a moment before he inclined his head to speak more with the Warden. "What do you have to do to be considered a renegade Warden? Should we be worried?"
"We're not at liberty to say, I'm afraid," the Warden answered. "Warden-Commander Clarel has ordered them to be captured for questioning. Just following those orders. With any luck, they'll come with us peacefully when we find them. I wouldn't worry yourselves. They're good people, just need to be brought back in line."
"We wish you luck, then," Vesryn cut in, keeping his tone pleasant. "It sounds like a complicated situation. We'd better not keep you from it."
"Thank you. And good luck on your hunt. Stay safe, travelers."
After that, they didn't run into anyone else, curving somewhat northward in their attempt to locate the disappeared Wardens. The afternoon sun was hot over their heads by the time they found a likely hiding place. It wasn't much, just a small cave entrance carved into the side of a low stone formation. Easy to miss, but with this many sharp eyes seeking something of the kind, they caught it before wandering past. Even to call it an entrance was a little optimistic: it amounted to little more than a slash in the rock, perhaps just large enough for Vesryn or Asala to pass through sideways. It was doubtful someone of Leon's size would have fit.
“Seems we'll have to leave the horses out here." Cyrus didn't seem perturbed by the rather arid environment, though he'd loosely wrapped his head in a light linen scarf for protection from the sun. He swung down first, patting his mount on the neck. There wasn't really anywhere to tie them; fortunately most of the animals were trained well enough not to wander far. They'd make a fine meal for varghests, otherwise.
The rather narrow cave entrance opened up into a tunnel that was only a little bit easier to move in, with a low-hanging ceiling and only enough width for one party member at a time. If the Wardens had chosen to make their hideout here, they had chosen very well, strategically speaking. It hardly mattered how large a force their enemies had if they would be fed forward one at a time. The four of the group over six feet in height had to hunch a little, as well, leaving even less space for movement. When they advanced too far in for the sun to reach, a soft blue sphere of light appeared overhead to illuminate the path forward, throwing Vesryn's shadow several feet in front of him.
The passage let out in what seemed to be a larger area—and it had all the marks of occupation. Two packs, loaded and ready to be picked up at a moment's notice, sat against the far wall, and the residual sand lining the floor of the cavern had been stirred by feet recently, it seemed. No sooner had he taken his first step into the cavern than there was a soft creak of leather and a ring of steel: the Wardens were not unprepared, it seemed.
One, a human man of middling stature with a rather impressive mustache, had drawn a sword, a shield braced comfortably on the opposite arm. The second was a woman, much slighter and as blonde as the searchers had indicated. The arrowhead at the end of her draw glowed faintly, and gave off what seemed to be clouds of cold air.
“Identify yourselves." It was the woman who spoke; her tone was even and clear rather than hostile. Still, it was clearly not a mere request.
"Oh my pretty little Warden Nostariel, how you wound me so," Ashton said, pushing past Vesryn's shoulder. He seemed totally and completely unperturbed by both the arrow and the blade leveled against him. There was shuffle behind them yet, no doubt Asala growing increasingly nervous with the entire situation, and the irreverent attitude the man was displaying. "I would have thought you would have recognized your dashingly handsome husband," he said, grinning from ear to ear.
"I've missed you, so much," he added, this time quieter and stripped of any humor or joke. Instead his words were filled with the sound of relief even despite the weapons pointed toward them. From where he stood, Vesryn could see the corners of the man's eyes begin to mist.
“Ash." Nostariel and her companion both relaxed immediately. She lowered her bow, easing out of the draw, and the arrow faded until it was only ordinary metal and wood once more. Sliding it into the quiver at her hip, the Warden slung the bow over her back and swiftly closed the gap between herself and the incoming party, making a beeline straight for Ashton and throwing her arms around his midsection. “Oh, thank the Maker." She pressed her forehead to his chest.
The other Warden, politely averting his eyes from the reunion, addressed the rest of the group now moving into the cavern. "Please forgive us our caution." His voice carried a thick Orlesian accent, but his words were clear enough. "We thought perhaps our pursuers had finally caught up to us. I am Warden-Commander Stroud. This is Warden-Captain Riviera."
“We're the Inquisition," Estella replied, taking a half-step forward to address Stroud. Not before she smiled at Ashton and Nostariel, though. “Well... part of it, anyway. I'm Estella, and this is Cyrus, Vesryn, Asala, and Lia." She indicated each in turn. “Ashton requested our help when Nostariel requested his, but I'm afraid I don't really understand what's going on. Is there time to explain?"
Only then did Nostariel let go of Ashton, long enough at least to embrace Estella in a brief, but strong, hug. “We've enough time for that. It's good to see you again, Estella. And you, Lia." She stepped back so she was at Ashton's side, winding an arm comfortably around his waist. “Go ahead and make yourselves comfortable, to the extent you can. It's a bit of a story, but I'm afraid it's best we tell it quickly."
After pausing a moment to allow everyone to get as settled as they were going to, Nostariel glanced at Stroud for a moment. “Jean-Marc and I have been partners for a few years now. Since the mage rebellion in Kirkwall, more or less. For the most part, it was business as usual, but... last year, shortly before the explosion at the Conclave..." She pushed a breath out through her nose, her grip on her husband visibly tightening.
“All the Wardens in Orlais and anywhere nearby started hearing the Calling."
"Wait, what?" Ashton blurted out. From how taken aback he was from the news, it seemed that Nostariel had left him in the dark about that little detail. He turned Stroud as if find some sort of confirmation before his gaze returned to her. The grip he held on her shoulder tightened as his lips pursed as if he was trying to find some question to ask, but none never seemed forthcoming. For once the man seemed to be at a loss for words.
"The Calling is what every Grey Warden experiences when their time is upon them." Stroud spoke to the group at large, perhaps guessing that there were those among them who would never have heard of such a thing before. "We are bound by the order not to speak of it to outsiders, but... this is not an ordinary circumstance."
“It's the archdemons that do it." Nostariel shook her head. “Like... a song, from somewhere deep in the earth where they slumber. But for everyone to hear it at once, in a certain region—that's not normal, not even during a Blight. We were forced to conclude that the source wasn't, either."
Vesryn had taken a seat on a nearby rock protruding up from the damp ground, his shield and spear propped against the wall. He leaned forward, chin propped on his fist. "Songs of death in your head? I can't imagine. So the Wardens hear this, and their response is to... run? Hide? What's the purpose of disappearing like this? Surely they don't intend to just die off." He supposed he should trust the analysis of the Wardens, but from what he'd seen... first that dragon Corypheus commanded, then the ugly blighter himself, and now this. All they were missing were the darkspawn, and he wouldn't put it past Corypheus to drag them out of the Deep Roads.
“I'm afraid it's precisely the opposite. They are afraid, now. If the Wardens disappear and take their knowledge and secrets with them, no one remains to stand against the next Blight." Nostariel's frown was grim. “Their reasoning is that literally anything would be better than allowing that to happen."
“Oh dear." Cyrus, leaning back against the cave wall near the tunnel they'd come through, arched his brows. “Who has convinced them to do what only-slightly-less-terrible thing, I wonder? Was it a Magister? It usually is." Despite the mocking lilt to the words, he seemed to be a step ahead in the narrative, and from the sour look on his face, he didn't like where it was going.
“We believe Corypheus is controlling the Calling." Stroud crossed his arms over his chest, grimacing under his mustache. “We slew him. Nostariel, Ashton, myself and others of their friends. Years ago. That he yet lives suggests that he has a way of preserving his life not unlike what archdemons do. It wasn't a stretch to imagine that he could produce the song like they could. And so, while every Warden in Orlais believes they're on the brink of death..."
“Elias Pike offers an imperfect solution. And I understate how terrible it is." Nostariel sighed heavily. “Pike is the one who destroyed Kirkwall's Chantry. He's convinced the Wardens that the thing to do is some kind of sacrificial blood magic ritual. Warden-Commander Clarel agreed to the plan, and Stroud and I were swiftly condemned for our resistance to it. We've been in hiding since, unable to discover exactly what the ritual entailed. I wrote Ash for help because I wasn't sure what else to do."
“We ran across a few earlier," Estella said, frowning more with her brow that her mouth. It was hard to tell what she made of all this, if anything in particular. She kept her hands folded behind her back, not relaxed, but not unduly tense, either. “They were looking for the two of you. I think there are enough of us to at least risk going to investigate. Do you know where any others in the area would be?"
Stroud nodded. “There's an ancient Tevinter ritual tower here in the approach. Near the pass. If we want to know what is going on, it is best we go there."
It seemed their rest would be short. Vesryn grabbed his spear and shield and stood. "Always the loveliest people we get to deal with. Tevinter supremacists and blood mages, what a joy." His tone wasn't quite as dark as it could have been, but this really did feel like they were walking in on something that was seriously wrong. The Grey Wardens were a powerful order, and it seemed obvious that they were being manipulated, their purpose corrupted. And if Nostariel and Stroud were right, they were going right along with it. All because of a little voice in their mind, calling for death. He doubted they could demand it as strongly as Saraya had.
"Let's get a move on, then, while there's still daylight left to us."
It might've been refreshing, if not for the heavy plate armor he wore. A request for aid from a Grey Warden after a year of silence was not to be treated lightly, and so the advance party came ready for battle, or at least a bloody skirmish. Vesryn gripped the shaft of a spear, holding the weapon upright while his horse made its way across the sands. He looked every bit the elven knight; looking his way at an inopportune moment could cause a flash of sunlight to reflect off his armor into one's eyes. Far from inconspicuous, but any travelers this far away from civilization would be treated with scrutiny.
The Western Approach was a mix of dusty sand dunes and rock crags and canyons that made for difficult travel. Strong winds often blew through the natural tunnels, buffeting the small party as they advanced, but they kept up at a steady pace. There was plenty of daylight left to them, and they hoped to make contact with this Grey Warden before dusk.
The Avenarius twins rode behind him, along with Asala and the Kirkwall guard captain who was the cause of all of this. A balanced and effective group should they come to conflict, and Vesryn strongly suspected that Lady Marceline was not fond of the idea of sending both Inquisitors out together, considering what had become of their most recent ventures. It was hard to argue with that. This time, however, they were walking into an obviously dubious situation, which somehow put Vesryn at ease.
They rode under the shade of a canyon wall in a somewhat narrow ravine, settling their eyes on the small Inquisition campsite that Lia and her scouts had already set up. The lead scout was waiting for them there, and Vesryn was the first to dismount before her. "Lovely place to make a hideout," he commented dryly.
"No argument here," Lia answered, shrugging. "We've had sightings of other Wardens in the area, though. Small groups, probably search parties. I don't think we're the only ones looking for Nostariel here." She pointed out of the ravine. "They seem to be coming from the southwest, but it's been too risky to push that way. Nostariel should be a little to the north of here, anyhow."
“I thought they'd disappeared," Estella murmured, brows furrowing over her eyes. Shaking her head slightly, she spoke a little louder. “There's something about this I don't like." She shifted a bit, resting a hand on Nox's nose. “Anything else you can tell us about the landscape, Lia?"
"This might be where they've disappeared to," she answered, not sounding particularly relieved about it either. "There's sandstorms every now and then, and some really mean local wildlife. If we need to make a foothold here, it's going to take a lot more of our forces than this. Rhys said he even spotted a high dragon flying west, but with any luck we won't need to deal with that."
"I think it would really complete our day, to be honest," Vesryn pitched in, leaning on his spear. "There are strategic locations around here, aren't there? Armies have passed through before."
"Yeah, there's a fort to the northwest, it looks to be in pretty good shape. There's someone taking up residence there, but again, we couldn't get close enough to learn much more. Sorry about that." She pulled her water skin from her belt and took a swig, swishing it around in her mouth a bit before swallowing. She then set it aside and replaced it with her bow. "Need to rest a bit, or should we head out? Shouldn't be more than an hour or two to get to Nostariel."
Estella glanced around at the others, none of whom seemed to be overtired or especially in need of a break, then nodded. “We should get there as soon as we can. I'm not sure what's going on, and I think we'll do better the less time we spend in the dark about it." Hopping back into the saddle, she settled herself in place and squinted out at the desert landscape ahead.
“If you'd be so kind as to lead on?"
"Sure thing." She clicked her tongue, calling her horse over, and soon enough they were mounted and on the move again. Quickly they were off the beaten path and mounting small dunes, twisting and winding through more ravines and along cliff sides. They were fortunate enough not to be caught in any of the sandstorms Lia spoke of, but after a while they could hear the sounds of a fight. Swords slashing against toughened hide, strains of effort.
They picked up a bit of speed and rounded the corner of a rock wall. At the base of a dune were a trio of Grey Wardens, two in full plate carrying greatswords, a third in lighter armor wielding a short sword and dagger. One of the warriors pulled his sword free from the body of a varghest, an elongated, scaly creature with a wicked set of fangs and claws. It appeared that the Wardens hadn't been looking for the fight, but none of them looked to be meaningfully injured. Upon sighting the party, the Wardens simply stared for a moment, their expressions hidden behind their helmets, but then one of them waved.
"Greetings, strangers," she called. "What brings you out here?"
"Dragon hunting," Vesryn answered almost immediately, smiling cordially. "I've heard there's a fine beast in these parts. We came to collect ourselves a trophy." He didn't doubt they could do it, either, with this group. Certainly they could give a dragon a run for its money, at least. The Wardens seemed less convinced, though it was difficult to tell by their body language alone.
"Aye, we've seen the creature you're looking for, headed west. Hardly the only danger here, though. You should be careful." The dual-wielding member of the Warden party sheathed his weapons, stepping up beside the warrior that had greeted them.
"Perhaps you can help us," he said. "We seek a pair of renegade Wardens: a man and a woman, the woman an elven mage. Lean, blonde hair. You haven't seen anyone like that recently, have you?"
The guard captain made a show looking toward the west where the Warden said the dragon was before leaning over to Asala. "I told them," he said under his breath, though it was still audible to the others. Asala answered him with only an arched brow and a weak chuckle. Before the other Warden had finished describing the renegades, Ashton had already urged his horse forward. "Can't say that we have. Actually, you fellows might be some of the more friendly faces we've seen today. Damn more friendly than that one, that's for sure," Ashton said, tilting his chin toward the slain varghest.
He looked thoughtful for a moment before he inclined his head to speak more with the Warden. "What do you have to do to be considered a renegade Warden? Should we be worried?"
"We're not at liberty to say, I'm afraid," the Warden answered. "Warden-Commander Clarel has ordered them to be captured for questioning. Just following those orders. With any luck, they'll come with us peacefully when we find them. I wouldn't worry yourselves. They're good people, just need to be brought back in line."
"We wish you luck, then," Vesryn cut in, keeping his tone pleasant. "It sounds like a complicated situation. We'd better not keep you from it."
"Thank you. And good luck on your hunt. Stay safe, travelers."
After that, they didn't run into anyone else, curving somewhat northward in their attempt to locate the disappeared Wardens. The afternoon sun was hot over their heads by the time they found a likely hiding place. It wasn't much, just a small cave entrance carved into the side of a low stone formation. Easy to miss, but with this many sharp eyes seeking something of the kind, they caught it before wandering past. Even to call it an entrance was a little optimistic: it amounted to little more than a slash in the rock, perhaps just large enough for Vesryn or Asala to pass through sideways. It was doubtful someone of Leon's size would have fit.
“Seems we'll have to leave the horses out here." Cyrus didn't seem perturbed by the rather arid environment, though he'd loosely wrapped his head in a light linen scarf for protection from the sun. He swung down first, patting his mount on the neck. There wasn't really anywhere to tie them; fortunately most of the animals were trained well enough not to wander far. They'd make a fine meal for varghests, otherwise.
The rather narrow cave entrance opened up into a tunnel that was only a little bit easier to move in, with a low-hanging ceiling and only enough width for one party member at a time. If the Wardens had chosen to make their hideout here, they had chosen very well, strategically speaking. It hardly mattered how large a force their enemies had if they would be fed forward one at a time. The four of the group over six feet in height had to hunch a little, as well, leaving even less space for movement. When they advanced too far in for the sun to reach, a soft blue sphere of light appeared overhead to illuminate the path forward, throwing Vesryn's shadow several feet in front of him.
The passage let out in what seemed to be a larger area—and it had all the marks of occupation. Two packs, loaded and ready to be picked up at a moment's notice, sat against the far wall, and the residual sand lining the floor of the cavern had been stirred by feet recently, it seemed. No sooner had he taken his first step into the cavern than there was a soft creak of leather and a ring of steel: the Wardens were not unprepared, it seemed.
One, a human man of middling stature with a rather impressive mustache, had drawn a sword, a shield braced comfortably on the opposite arm. The second was a woman, much slighter and as blonde as the searchers had indicated. The arrowhead at the end of her draw glowed faintly, and gave off what seemed to be clouds of cold air.
“Identify yourselves." It was the woman who spoke; her tone was even and clear rather than hostile. Still, it was clearly not a mere request.
"Oh my pretty little Warden Nostariel, how you wound me so," Ashton said, pushing past Vesryn's shoulder. He seemed totally and completely unperturbed by both the arrow and the blade leveled against him. There was shuffle behind them yet, no doubt Asala growing increasingly nervous with the entire situation, and the irreverent attitude the man was displaying. "I would have thought you would have recognized your dashingly handsome husband," he said, grinning from ear to ear.
"I've missed you, so much," he added, this time quieter and stripped of any humor or joke. Instead his words were filled with the sound of relief even despite the weapons pointed toward them. From where he stood, Vesryn could see the corners of the man's eyes begin to mist.
“Ash." Nostariel and her companion both relaxed immediately. She lowered her bow, easing out of the draw, and the arrow faded until it was only ordinary metal and wood once more. Sliding it into the quiver at her hip, the Warden slung the bow over her back and swiftly closed the gap between herself and the incoming party, making a beeline straight for Ashton and throwing her arms around his midsection. “Oh, thank the Maker." She pressed her forehead to his chest.
The other Warden, politely averting his eyes from the reunion, addressed the rest of the group now moving into the cavern. "Please forgive us our caution." His voice carried a thick Orlesian accent, but his words were clear enough. "We thought perhaps our pursuers had finally caught up to us. I am Warden-Commander Stroud. This is Warden-Captain Riviera."
“We're the Inquisition," Estella replied, taking a half-step forward to address Stroud. Not before she smiled at Ashton and Nostariel, though. “Well... part of it, anyway. I'm Estella, and this is Cyrus, Vesryn, Asala, and Lia." She indicated each in turn. “Ashton requested our help when Nostariel requested his, but I'm afraid I don't really understand what's going on. Is there time to explain?"
Only then did Nostariel let go of Ashton, long enough at least to embrace Estella in a brief, but strong, hug. “We've enough time for that. It's good to see you again, Estella. And you, Lia." She stepped back so she was at Ashton's side, winding an arm comfortably around his waist. “Go ahead and make yourselves comfortable, to the extent you can. It's a bit of a story, but I'm afraid it's best we tell it quickly."
After pausing a moment to allow everyone to get as settled as they were going to, Nostariel glanced at Stroud for a moment. “Jean-Marc and I have been partners for a few years now. Since the mage rebellion in Kirkwall, more or less. For the most part, it was business as usual, but... last year, shortly before the explosion at the Conclave..." She pushed a breath out through her nose, her grip on her husband visibly tightening.
“All the Wardens in Orlais and anywhere nearby started hearing the Calling."
"Wait, what?" Ashton blurted out. From how taken aback he was from the news, it seemed that Nostariel had left him in the dark about that little detail. He turned Stroud as if find some sort of confirmation before his gaze returned to her. The grip he held on her shoulder tightened as his lips pursed as if he was trying to find some question to ask, but none never seemed forthcoming. For once the man seemed to be at a loss for words.
"The Calling is what every Grey Warden experiences when their time is upon them." Stroud spoke to the group at large, perhaps guessing that there were those among them who would never have heard of such a thing before. "We are bound by the order not to speak of it to outsiders, but... this is not an ordinary circumstance."
“It's the archdemons that do it." Nostariel shook her head. “Like... a song, from somewhere deep in the earth where they slumber. But for everyone to hear it at once, in a certain region—that's not normal, not even during a Blight. We were forced to conclude that the source wasn't, either."
Vesryn had taken a seat on a nearby rock protruding up from the damp ground, his shield and spear propped against the wall. He leaned forward, chin propped on his fist. "Songs of death in your head? I can't imagine. So the Wardens hear this, and their response is to... run? Hide? What's the purpose of disappearing like this? Surely they don't intend to just die off." He supposed he should trust the analysis of the Wardens, but from what he'd seen... first that dragon Corypheus commanded, then the ugly blighter himself, and now this. All they were missing were the darkspawn, and he wouldn't put it past Corypheus to drag them out of the Deep Roads.
“I'm afraid it's precisely the opposite. They are afraid, now. If the Wardens disappear and take their knowledge and secrets with them, no one remains to stand against the next Blight." Nostariel's frown was grim. “Their reasoning is that literally anything would be better than allowing that to happen."
“Oh dear." Cyrus, leaning back against the cave wall near the tunnel they'd come through, arched his brows. “Who has convinced them to do what only-slightly-less-terrible thing, I wonder? Was it a Magister? It usually is." Despite the mocking lilt to the words, he seemed to be a step ahead in the narrative, and from the sour look on his face, he didn't like where it was going.
“We believe Corypheus is controlling the Calling." Stroud crossed his arms over his chest, grimacing under his mustache. “We slew him. Nostariel, Ashton, myself and others of their friends. Years ago. That he yet lives suggests that he has a way of preserving his life not unlike what archdemons do. It wasn't a stretch to imagine that he could produce the song like they could. And so, while every Warden in Orlais believes they're on the brink of death..."
“Elias Pike offers an imperfect solution. And I understate how terrible it is." Nostariel sighed heavily. “Pike is the one who destroyed Kirkwall's Chantry. He's convinced the Wardens that the thing to do is some kind of sacrificial blood magic ritual. Warden-Commander Clarel agreed to the plan, and Stroud and I were swiftly condemned for our resistance to it. We've been in hiding since, unable to discover exactly what the ritual entailed. I wrote Ash for help because I wasn't sure what else to do."
“We ran across a few earlier," Estella said, frowning more with her brow that her mouth. It was hard to tell what she made of all this, if anything in particular. She kept her hands folded behind her back, not relaxed, but not unduly tense, either. “They were looking for the two of you. I think there are enough of us to at least risk going to investigate. Do you know where any others in the area would be?"
Stroud nodded. “There's an ancient Tevinter ritual tower here in the approach. Near the pass. If we want to know what is going on, it is best we go there."
It seemed their rest would be short. Vesryn grabbed his spear and shield and stood. "Always the loveliest people we get to deal with. Tevinter supremacists and blood mages, what a joy." His tone wasn't quite as dark as it could have been, but this really did feel like they were walking in on something that was seriously wrong. The Grey Wardens were a powerful order, and it seemed obvious that they were being manipulated, their purpose corrupted. And if Nostariel and Stroud were right, they were going right along with it. All because of a little voice in their mind, calling for death. He doubted they could demand it as strongly as Saraya had.
"Let's get a move on, then, while there's still daylight left to us."