A/N: Disclaimer: Dragon age belongs to Bioware, but there are characters and plots that are mine, English is not my native language I'm sorry for the possible grammars mistakes... all criticism and suggestions are welcome, if it help me with my skills much better. PS: I need a Beta reader... don't be timid :D

EDIT 30/04/2010: changed of first person to third person I don't feel me good writing of this way, I recommend read it again, there is some things that you possible don't understand in a future if you don't, sorry for the inconveniences.

Rated M for violence and mature themes

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Prologue

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"Invoke your precious right of conscription" He said pointing his sword to the other warrior, "because if you do it, one of us will die here, and I promise that you will be this one".

The other warrior that was being threatened was a gray warden, his hair and beard are a deep black, dark skin, and a look intense and always alert, well spoken and respectful, his voice was calmed, and had two blades strapped to his back, both of good quality and he is dressed in a silver and expensive armor covered by a tunic in the legs, a good design of a armor light and comfortable, but he is not the only person why the wounded man should be worried.

The companion of the warden is a elf, first her presence was ignored by the young man, he thought that she was a specie of servant, but no one servant carry two daggers to the sight of everyone, and less an elf.

She is pretty, her face has simple features but a lovely one, green eyes like emeralds, a look that exhale fire, a pink lips with a cocky smile like if she was enjoying the situation, brown hair that is behind of her stylized ear, a thin body thus one would think that she is fragile, but nothing could be further from reality. Elegant legs that combine with the dress, a white dress probably torned by the forest and with some dried blood spots, and an opening in the left leg, a uncomfortable dress for travel, until a few days ago she was only other elf of one alienage, no more, but now she is a recruit of the gray wardens.

They are Gray Wardens and a skilled ones, but when they offered him join them to their order, the young man let clear that he doesn't have the minimum desire of become one of them, and but that he will fight for his freedom of chose, but he is injured, a wound on his chest is driving him in pain, a wound of side to side, crossing his left lung only a few inches of the heart, and now it is reopen and filling with blood again, his breath is heavy, he press his right hand against the chest holding a sword, always ready for attack.

He tries to reach his dagger that is very similar to the sword, both made by a master craftsman Dalish like a gift from the keeper, single-edged swords.

But reach the dagger of his waist is hard, his left arm isn't fully healed yet and with the more simples moves the pain run by his spine, but it is much better than a few days ago, when he had lost great part of the sensibility in this arm, he had fought in several occasions before an he knows that he will need use the two arms if he want defeat these gray wardens.

'Ha and everything for get a few clean bandages' He thought while shake his head

Few days ago...

The young warrior has been running for eight days, taking the long way, first reach the road to Kinloch Hold, then walk near of the lake Calenhad, then more to the south crossing the Hinterlands for go to Ostagar, and always avoiding the people and the main road. The man, of a twenty four years, is running with a wound bad treated in his chest, and his left arm with various injuries and losing sensitivity, probably it is infected, his right eye is bandaged and possibly blinded forever and it follow bleeding, washing constantly his face with blood. His aspect is pity, his hair is messy and he face is painted with blood, the bandage in his eye is wet and red by the blood too.

He follow walking until his legs can not take a step further and his heartbeat is so severe that is the only thing he can hear, that is the only moment that he can rest, the first two nights he take care of his wounds and cauterize the most serious in the arm, cauterize a wound alone and without liquor is almost a torture, the smell to your own burned flesh impresses you more that the pain that you suffer in the process, and apart from that he has to be aware of the bandits or wolves.

The third night he found some of his persecutors, they are disorganized, and leave the supplies on the edge of the camp without vigilance, but the supplies aren't what he need, he need kill them, he need time for rest and think, but with them pursuing him is hard, in an unguarded moment he put some of poison in the skinned rabbit and other food, then he wait in the shadows controlling his breath and heartbeat, watching them, a hour later they begin to fall one by one, screaming by the pain in their bodies, when they are death or at least unconscious he enter to the camp and begin to cut their throats for revenge maybe or for to be sure that they don't will awake soon... the young man take some bandages, poultices and potions, some of the food that isn't contaminated, this isn't much, and everything that he swallow cause pain in his chest, and later he begin to vomit it with a mix of blood and undigested food.

The next nights he fall near of any tree, far away of any farm or any curious eyes, then he force himself to eat something and drink a little water, he's tired but the pain in all his body is so strong that he can't sleep, well… his body is a reason but his thoughts about his sins and faults are the real reason why he can not sleep.

He lay and tries to calm the pain with some potions that he has in the backpack. The nights are cold and he rest only with a cloak warming him, because he doesn't have the enough strength for make a fire, but this cloak is warm and bring him desires of live, someone told him that it was magic and well she didn't lied.

In his ninth day a few hours before the sunrise, he retake the march, finally entering in the Hinterlands, a land of hills, forests and clearings, perfect for and ambush or for hide a group of bandits but he doesn't has option, the main road could be watched and only left other three or four days for arrive to Ostagar, the sky is gray clouded and is beginning to rain, 'What you expected? We are almost in the middle of autumn'. He thought dejectedly

A couple of miles later there is a narrow, there is no other way out of it, only one entrance and one exit, a one side a crag and the other a river, is a good place to be located and hunted, but surround the hills isn't a option, he tries to move himself silent by the woods, but there outside he can listen steps and other sounds, but when he turn to see what is doing that noises, he doesn't found nothing, the whistling of the trees and the copious rain made that sounds, he continue telling it to calm himself, he unsheathed his sword, a breath more and he begin to sprint for behind of the trees trying to leave of there the more soon that be possible, when he finally is leaving the man feel a little more secure. Wrong again...

Five persons in cloaks leave from behind of the trees with bows, he can't see their faces, and the wind lead the rain to fall directly on his face and the cloak protect him little or nothing of the incessant rain, they are speaking between them, the leader is a women, her voice can be heard like and echo in middle of the trees but he doesn't understand what she says.

"I don't mean harm for you" The young man scream to them "and I don't have nothing of value to steal" a pause and later a little snort "I have not even shirt", that is true at least the part of the shirt, but in his bag he has some poultices, some sketches, maps, a letter with instructions if he die and at least twenty sovereigns, enough money for kill a dozen men… and that damned books that in the wrong hands are very dangerous, but found that hands can take at least four ages more;

They don't answer and the leader begins to aim her bow to him.

"I don't mean harm for you, I only want go to the south, let me pass" he shout in a strong voice and, he is already in position for run and kill them, 'they are only bandits this will be easy' he said to himself in a frustrated tone, "if you don't let me pass I will kill you" the man continue speaking, those words in a grim and dark tone, but they did not flinch.

A strong wind blows in midst of them, changing the direction of rain and giving them a moment to analyze themselves mutually and to decide their next move. The press is on the wounded man, he will has to make the first move, they are to forty feet from him, a sprint behind the threes, the arrows will hit them, he thought, he grip with force and some of rage the sword. 'I'm fast, and I had faced better opponents, I can do this, they are only thugs.'

When the wind stop he begin the race, three of them more the leader try to aim their bows and shot but they fail, the first and second arrow hit a tree between us, and the third arrow was near but no enough.

His chest hurt with each step that he gives, but it doesn't stop him 'I can't die, NO YET'. He approaches them quickly, and simples' thugs are no opponent for him in close combat, even so wounded like he is. He turn his head for see what they are doing, the three that shot are rearming their bows, the fourth have two swords waiting for him, anxious and trembling by the courage of the man, a simple smile is draw in the face of the man while he run, but the woman look confident, she is aiming him and following with the look each one of his steps, with a devil smile is in her lips, 'stupid girl, why you don't shot?' the man think confused for that woman.

A tree stands between them, the young man follow running and when he leave of behind the tree one arrow cut across his left shoulder, the force of the shot is enough to make him to stumble, but he regain the balance and keep running, but immediately other arrow was released again by the leader, this time the impact is under his cheekbone, he lower the eyes and can see the flesh and the blood that was produced by the arrow, it entered cleanly without even touch the bone...

The impact throw him to the floor, he try to stand up but the pain is so strong that he only fall again over his knees, his vision is blur, and the pain is taking his full body, he take the first arrow of his shoulder and rip off, 'ignore the pain' he say to himself, but a cry out of his mouth... he took the arrow, a piece of flesh is still hanging from the arrowhead, but that doesn't matter, he see what he suspected 'poison', he raise his look and see the leader, slowly approaching to his now immobilized body, she remove her hood, a elf, that almost explain the precision of the shot.

She is raven haired, blue and deep ice eyes with dark circles, pale skin and a full tattoo in her face, she look sick, maybe she has some sort of disease, but he can see in her face the stronger that this woman is, like a wild flower, strong against any wind.

Now the young man is kneeled, his hood covering great part of his face, and waiting to know what she think to do with him.

She come closer, and whisper to his ear "if I would wanted hit to your good eye, I would have been able to hit it, before that you would begin to run".

'How could she see my eye in middle of the rain?' he mumbles

She is good with the bow, and she is able of do what she says, "the first arrow was enough for many, but you are strong and persistent" she continues whispering him.

The other four men are near and he can see them now, all are elves, and he can hear one of them saying "why he has not fallen yet?", but he ignore them and return his sight to the leader, she is waiting the same, but she isn't anxious like them, she is taking it with calm.

She comes again and whisper in his ear something that he never heard before "Shue shah tauthau toetoi thuet Lethallan" she drop a small laugh and continue "No yet, I need you a little more". There was silence for a long time, and then he collapses to the Dark and the pain...

"I don't want to kill you my friend... No yet, I need you a little more"