Marching near the front of the group meant you were upwind of everyone else, but sometimes it was also the most boring thing in the world. Technically Alistair wasn't at the very front, that was Turgon, but he was close enough, really. Marching formation meant being a little spaced out from the forward scout. With nothing better to do, Alistair idly began to play with his latest acquisition.

The Grand Cleric would likely have his head if she knew what he was doing with a Spellward amulet. Twirling a powerful enchanted amulet around on your finger like it was hardly something any self respecting templar would do. Then again, he wasn't a templar anymore, and this was a gift rather than something he'd earned being promoted to Knight-Lieutenant. Then again Warden Captain was technically a higher rank than Knight-Lieutenant, so at the very least it was giving it to someone of relative importance. Maybe? Kind of? It did spin nicely around his finger at least, good metalwork on the chain.

Knight Commander Greagoir gave it to him as part of the Circle's aid to the Wardens after helping them save the tower. Alistair could feel the power coming off of it, the skillfully engraved lyrium that gave it the power to help resist magical attacks. In the monastery some of the boys would wonder at how long it would be before they managed to get their hands on one of those fabled amulets. Alistair was pretty sure that he'd managed to get one before literally anyone else in his batch of recruits, little chance of anyone getting from Knight to Knight-Lieutenant in under a year.

They were passing through a wooded section of the road with many miles to travel before Redcliffe, and Alistair remembered just how much of his job was walking everywhere. There had been some refugees on the road earlier, people fleeing from the south after Ostagar. The memory of that battle and what had happened there still haunted him. One day there would be justice for Duncan, and for all the others. Yet for now all he had to look forward to was a lot of walking as they had at least another two days worth of travel to go. With little better to do Alistair decided to begin a small tune as he marched.

"For it's over the mountain and over the Way,"

"Through to the Bannorn and Gwaren's Bay."

"It's colour to your metal and kit upon your knee."

"Take up with the army and come to war with me," Someone else finished for Alistair as the Orleasian minstrel apparently knew this song too.

Alistair looked to see Leliana with a playful smile on her face, apparently she was off her shift of steering the wagon. He always enjoyed talking to her, it'd be nicer having her around than being alone.

"You know that tune? The Dog Sergeants? I wouldn't think they'd sing that in Orlais much," Alistair himself learned it in the monastery from the other young boys, gotta keep that Ferelden Folk spirit alive after all.

"You remember I was in Lothering for a long while, I spent some time ministering near where some of the people would sing songs such as that," And now Alistair felt more than a little bit foolish, "But they actually did sing the song in Orlais, but not with quite as much..."

"Spirit, laughter, the smell of dogs?"

"Well certainly less of the last one," Leliana chuckled and then seemed to sniff the air for a moment, "It seems you don't lack for it."

"I was raised by dogs you know, a huge wild pack of them from the mountains up on high trained me to fight and roll around in the mud like any good hound," Alistair pointed back behind his shoulder, gesturing to Hume in the back.

"And yet Luthien told me you were from Redcliffe and raised by Arl Eamon before being sent to the Chantry, which is the true story I wonder?" Leliana's left brow raised in questioning.

"Could be both, could be all Fereldans are secretly dogs who only assume human shape when it's convenient. The rest of the time we run around chasing our tails to pass the time."

Leliana giggled and Alistair couldn't help stupid grin from forming on his face either. There were worse ways to pass the time than chatting with a companion on the road.

"If you grew up in Redcliffe like Arnor, did you two know each other before you were Wardens?" Leliana asked.

"I grew up in and around the castle while Arnor lived on a farm near the village, so we never met before we became Wardens," Alistair would've liked to have had a friend his age back in those days, but the odds of farmers in Castles was slim.

"But Redcliffe was still your home for many years was, it must be nice to go back there even under such circumstances," The former chantry sister's questions seemed innocent enough but Alistair couldn't help but sigh a bit.

"Sort of, honestly I'm looking forward to seeing Arl Eamon again but his wife not so much. Anyway, what about you? You said you were from Orlais originally but you never mentioned where exactly," Taking the subject off him for a moment was always a good move in the past.

"I was born and raised in Jader near the Ferelden border. The Port of Jader is one of the largest in Southern Thedas, and many days I could simply sit on Lady Cecilie's balcony watching the ships come and go," Her eyes seemed wistful in that moment, as if remembering a fond childhood memory.

"Redcliffe's port isn't that much to look at unfortunately, a little lakeside dock for a few ships passing through. They'll collect grains and other goods from the Hinterlands to take upriver most of the time."

"I have never been to Redcliffe, but I have heard a few tales of the history behind the place. King Calenhad once said "The fate of Redcliffe is the Fate of all Ferelden." Leliana added a few of those grand sweeping hand gestures as if to embody a king in the middle of a speech.

"It's really not that impressive, hopefully you won't be too disappointed by a small village and a few river boats," The bastard templar

"I shall do my best to keep my expectations realistic," Leliana promised with a bright smile.

They continued to talk about little things for a good while until something new came up the road. A party of armed men bearing the dragon banner of Gwaren was between them and the rest of the way to Redcliffe. From what they could tell they had been set up here for some time, maybe even waiting for the Wardens knowing that they would try and get to Redcliffe. Alistair looked to Arnor for what they were going to do next with regards to this new situation.

"This could just be a roadblock to hary travelers or maybe this is the bait for an ambush. Either way going around them would take too much time," Arnor looked to be assessing a general idea in his head, "Let's be ready for a fight, half circle with mages and archers protected by the warriors, but I'll take point."

"Doubt this'll end with anything other than us stabbing people, but honestly I'm hopeful," Alistair rolled his eyes and drew his blade from its scabbard.

When they got close to the group of soldiers Alistair recognized their leader, Ser Cauthrien of Maric's Shield. From what he remembered she was Loghain's right hand woman, if she was here than he had no doubt this was specifically a hunt for the Wardens. Her men seemed ready for a fight, but nobody yet moved to be the first to strike a blow. Ser Cauthrien moved to the front of the pack, sword not yet unsheathed, did she mean to talk to Arnor before the fangs came out?

"So it is true, the Grey Wardens have yet survived Ostagar," Ser Cauthrien folded her arms and seemed to be keeping an impassive face, "I suppose the rumors can be put to rest then."

"We're alive, no thanks to Teyrn Loghain and yourself," Arnor countered, keeping his bow at arm's length, "Outlawing the entire order, claiming we abandoned the king and got him killed, all while apparently declaring himself regent."

"The Teyrn was not going to throw lives away on a clandestine organizations claims of a Blight, and he's now the only one that can stem the chaos in the land," There was conviction in her voice, Alistair seethed, that murderer could apparently inspire loyalty at the very least, "I'm going to give you the chance to come with me to Denerim without bloodshed, if not you will face justice right here and now."

"The hell does Loghain know about justice?" Alistair spat with enough anger to burn an iceberg, "Good men are dead because of him, I'm going to see him dea-"

Alistair never got a chance to finish that sentence as the sound of a fireball launching broke through the trees and he instinctively moved to dispel it. The former templar didn't hear Arnor's orders to the others as swords were unsheathed and arrows went flying. All that mattered was holding back the fireball. It dissipated before it struck, but now the battle had begun in earnest.

It appeared that Cauthrien was hiding more men in the trees as rogues with daggers and bows bore down on the group. Luthien and the mages were hard at work both blocking and returning fire with their spells, it thankfully seemed that the enemy didn't have their own templars. Alistair waded into the madness of combat, searching for the enemy mage or mages that could be a threat to the party. It was a bit hard to do that when you were also running a sword through a foreign looking fighter but he was doing his best.

Ser Cauthrein had apparently wasted no time in looking for the biggest target. Sten currently had his hands full blocking strikes from her. Danson looked ready to support him but he was tied up dealing with three of his own opponents that tried to surround the large berserker. They were outnumbered but not outgunned if the mages were having their way. Luthien and Morrigan were flinging offensive spells into the crowds while Finn concentrated on healing and supporting the other fighters.

Alistair zeroed in on the source of magical energy coming from up ahead of him, a female spellcaster ready to throw lightning into the fray. Alistair wasn't about to let that happen. Moving quickly despite his heavy armor, Alistair charged forward through the ranks of the enemy to drive through towards the mage in question. Steel sword vs cloth robes, steel wins every time. It was the same this time Alistair killed the enemy mage before she could get off her chain lightning spell.

Yet for all that, the group was still outnumbered and surrounded, though a few assassins and soldiers were already dead on the ground. Estel appeared to be caught in the most harrowing of the fights that didn't include Ser Cauthrien; she was fighting a tattooed elf that wielded his daggers almost as skillfully as she did.

It was then that a loud and piercing howl broke through the fury of battle, and from the corner of his eyes Alistair thought he saw a gray blur race through the battle lines. Alistair knew the sound of jaws snapping on armor from Hume's work, but Hume was fighting alongside his master. This was a new sight and sound, one that Alistair would have to figure out later.

The tide of battle seemed to be shifting in the Wardens favor, though Alistair couldn't be completely sure. On his left a burly axeman looked to charge the former templar with his blade held high. Alistair braced for the attack, but then two arrows ran through the man's throat to send him dead on the ground. Alistair looked backwards to thank the archer, but found that the person responsible for helping him wasn't someone he recognized.

She was a Dalish Archer in shiny green armor, but there wasn't any time to really think about that when a battle still going on. Arnor had apparently shifted the relatively positions of the mages to be a spearpoint rather than backline support. Thunderbolts and lightning continued to streak across the battlefield sending men into a painful panic. The fact that the Wardens had more magical power at their disposal was certainly giving them an edge.

It would all come to a head when Estel finally began to gain the upperhand against the tattooed elven assassin. He was fast, but she was faster and evidently more determined to win. In their deadly dagger dance it took only one missed attack to spell the end for either combatant. The assassin overcommitted to one forward strike, and that was the opening with which Estel used to drive her dagger into his gut. The blade passed through his leather armor with enough force applied, and he fell to the ground with a resounding thud.

He was apparently a leader among the non-uniformed forces because as he fell they began to scatter. These thugs were apparently now none too sure they could defeat the Wardens such as things were. As her allies retreated, it looked as though Ser Cauthrien realized the battle was lost and called the retreat. She and her soldiers began taking off through the woods, running as fast as their legs would carry them.

"Let them go!" Arnor's voice called to the other archers and the mages, and at his word they lowered their bows and depowered their staves, "Finn, Luthien, check everyone you can for wounds."

Alistair saw his commander look at one of the faces of the men lying dead on the ground. Things were very still for a moment but then the ranger continued.

"Alistair, help me gather the bodies for a pyre, the soldiers and the assassins. We're not leaving these bodies to rot."

"Right, they'd start to stink up this place if we left them too long too," Alistair saw Finn tending to Sten and Danson's wounds while everyone tried to pick themselves up after the battle had finally ended.

Then came a rather curious exclamation.

"Fluffy?" Arnor yelped as Alistair turned to see a large wolf, no a familiar large wolf, come to Arnor and accept a scratch behind the ears.

Alistair remembered seeing this beast before, on the road after Ostagar. Those grey eyes were the same as Arnors in a certain strange way. This was the Fluffy Arnor spoke of as his hunting companion? This wolf was larger than the blight wolves for sure, and he remembered Danson calling this thing a direwolf.

"What are you doing here?" Arnor asked his wolf, crouching down to look him in the eyes, "I told you to keep an eye on everyone back home."

"Maybe something's wrong," Alistair saw a few rather fresh scars beneath Fluffy's fur, he didn't like this. The oddity of it all, well, and the giant wolf too. Intimidating that thing was.

"He wouldn't have been looking for his master with such purpose if he wasn't," Alistair and Arnor were approached by the new elven woman who had begun to aid them in battle, "It seems he's finally hound him."

"He did somehow manage to find me as big as Ferelden is," Arnor stood back up to speak with this newcomer, "You another Dalish hunter?"

"I am, my name is Ariane, and I am here because my Keeper believed in sending aid to the Wardens after recent events," Ariane explained while Turgon walked to join the conversation.

"What exactly has happened, what has happened to your Keeper Solan?" Turgon seemed worried by the news, eyes intent and fierce.

"We and the rest of the clans have been forced out of Southern Ferelden, the Darkspawn have overrun the Shemlen Imperial Way all the way through Lothering. That village is gone now, and the Dalish Clans that remain in Ferelden have scattered to the winds."

"How did you find us? It's not exactly like we have a symbol high in the sky saying "Wardens are here, come and find us!" Alistair asked with more than a little suspicion.

"I heard from travelers that the Wardens were said to be making their way west, and then..." She motioned to Fluffy, "I ran into him on the road. At the time I couldn't quite explain it, but I felt like he knew exactly what I was looking for and how to find it. It appears that feeling was right."

Fluffy looked to Ariane at that moment as if confirming her story. This seemed to relax Arnor a little bit as he saw that his wolf seemed to trust her.

"Direwolves are not to be ignored one way or the other," Turgon noted when he looked at the beast, "The Creators saw fit to use Arnor's wolf to guide you to us, I'd say this omen does not follow the designs of Fen'Harel."

"What did you call Fluffy, a Direwolf?" Arnor asked with surprise.

"You named him Fluffy?" Both Turgon and Ariane asked at the same time.

In the end the Wardens welcomed two new members to their company, Ariane the Elf and Fluffy the Wolf. The grim work of piling up the bodies was still to be done however, and so was the work of patching up all of the wounded. Finn once again was proving his usefulness to the party as his healing skills got to work right away, though it had to be said he was still a bit squeamish about the blood everywhere.

When the soldiers and even the assassins had been gathered in a pile, Luthien used fire magic to cremate the bodies. It would be no good for these corpses to be the pawns of demons from the Fade, they'd seen enough of that at the Circle. Alistair found himself muttering a few words of prayer that he remembered from his days as a templar in training.

Over the crackling of the fire he heard Leliana praying too. That shouldn't have been a surprise to him, they did take her from the Chantry in Lothering after all. Lothering... Ariane said it had been leveled by the darkspawn, the land was probably blighted by now. Did she regret leaving Lothering to help the Wardens? The only way to know would be to ask her, but asking about Lotherring while they were trying give due to the dead was probably not the best idea. Instead Alistair found himself moving near Arnor and Luthien, the two of them were in a the middle of talking about something or other while Fluffy stood between them.

"- the Antivan Crows?" Alistair hear the tail end of Arnor's sentence when he joined his friends.

"That's what Leliana said, and Finn said he recognized some of the tattoos from a book he read on Antiva," Luthien's arms were crossed and her eyes didn't leave the pyre.

"So we're apparently important enough to hire a famous assassins guild to come after us, that sounds lovely," The former-templar joined the conversation but like the other two his eyes did go back to the rising flames eventually.

There was a long period of silence between the three of them before Arnor began to speak again.

"I wonder how many of the soldiers came off of farms in Gwaren?" Arnor was pensive and neither Luthien nor Alistair had an answer for him.

Was his friend thinking about his own past compared to these men and women, Alistair wondered? They were getting close to Redcliffe, the home he knew for a few years but one that Arnor knew all his life. Alistair understood in his gut there would be more battles ahead, and probably clashes with Ferelden soldiers if Loghain kept sending them after them. It wasn't a comforting thought, but it was one that would inevitably come up again in the future. Alistair wanted to hope things would get better when they reached Redcliffe, they could talk to Arl Eamon, get support against the Blight and against Loghain... And it would probably be good for Arnor to see his family again.

At least that's what Alistair thought seeing your family should be like, he wouldn't exactly know. The closest thing he had to family was either in Denerim, or in Redcliffe Castle. The bastard son of Maric would have his own issues to settle it Redcliffe, but for now he'd watch the pyre with the others.

Maybe when they got to Redcliffe he'd do some more thinking about his own family and what that might mean, as well as what he wanted to do for himself. Between that vision in the Fade and thinking about Arl Eamon it... Well it was suffice to say Alistair had a lot on his mind too, and would have to do a lot thinking.

Regardless of what Morrigan might say about his capacity for such, anyway.

A/N: Sorry for the wait again, college stuff keeping me busy as usual. Redcliffe is ahead, I hope that'll be a fun time for all involved. The party grows and shifts in new ways, May my Readers always find their way in the dark!