Finding no crossing along the steep gorge, the part find themselves back on the imperial highway in the quaint town of Oldham. Wishing to leave as quickly as possible, they are thwarted by a surly, middle-aged female guard collecting tolls on the bridge. At five silver per person and ten per horse or pack animal, the cost is prohibitive to their meager wealth. They accompany Corryn to a local mage shop to return his borrowed horse while they scheme of ways to skirt the toll.

The mage shop is easy to find, and, to Corryn’s annoyance, Broga insists on accompanying him inside. The Tranquil shopkeep again greets Corryn by name, but this one seems less tranquil and somewhat agitated. He dutifully takes Corryn’s horse, but mistakenly leaves Broga alone inside while taking the animal around back. Broga eyes a tempting bejeweled bastard sword under glass as they leave the building, trying to figure out how to hide it on his person.

After securing the horse, Corryn and the Tranquil return to the front of the store, but he suspiciously does not go back inside. Instead, he attempts to talk Corryn into buying some potions, only five silver apiece. Not really interested in the potions, but curious at this man’s unusual behavior, he agrees to take a look at the wares. The sound of breaking glass from inside makes Tyree cringe, and he prepares to defend his miscreant dwarf friend. Unexpectedly though, the Tranquil doesn’t seem to notice or care. He enters the store and walks past the guilty-looking dwarf holding a colorful vial in each hand, crunching shards of broken glass beneath his feet, without reaction or comment. Corryn takes a cursory glance at the box of potions the man retrieves from a back room shelf, and seeing nothing special, politely declines the offer. Now more suspicious than curious, Corryn grabs Broga by the shoulder and leads him out, still holding the vials.

A severe looking, fully armored Templar woman strolls directly towards Marius just as Corryn and Broga exit the shop. She stops short, turns, and addresses Corryn directly and by name. “Corryn, mage of the White Spire, Circle of Val Royeaux, you are under arrest. Please come with me.” Corryn says nothing and prepares to go with her, but Armon suddenly protests, demanding to know the charges. After an annoyed glare, she perfunctorily lists his many crimes: failure to report to his superiors, participation in a blood magic ritual, and the murder of Empress Celene I. Corryn opens his eyes wide in shock at the allegations, then suddenly realizes at least one of them might be true. At that, she walks away from Armon and down the road, expecting Corryn to follow.

The obedient mage follows the Templar, recognizing her rank as Knight-Commander, trying to spare his friends from what would surely be a losing battle. Armon follows, persisting in pestering her about the man’s human rights, due process, habeas corpus, and any other legalese he can think of, while the others keep a safe distance. Finally she turns on him. “This maleficarum will be given no quarter. I will return him to Val Royeaux, where he will face trial and be given more mercy than his kind deserves. If he tries to escape, I will kill him. If you help him, I’ll kill you too. Now, get out of my way.” Then the grumpy Templar takes Corryn into an unremarkable one room building, whose door is emblazoned with a flaming eye, shutting the door in Armon’s as he attempts to protest further.

Corryn nearly yells out when, during his watch, a hand covers his mouth and someone grabs him from behind until a voice whispers in his ear, calming him. He stands motionless for a few moments, listening to the silence, straining to hear the threat the voice warned him about. The snap of a twig pushes them into a flurry of action. Cathal releases Corryn, who immediately wakes the others. As they orient and arm themselves, she moves past them toward the unknown threat. Berchan, the fastest to wake, follows her. “I hear them,” the boy whispers. Before Cathal can stop him, he races past her into the darkness. Growls and snarls follow, and he rushes back to Cathal, three feral, dark-skinned warriors close behind.

Tyree rushes at the warriors from his hiding place to the right, keeping them away from Cathal, giving her room to shoot. Broga and the mages join her in support while Armon takes his customary position next to Tyree. Like the barkeep, these men emit a foul odor, affecting the front line fighters. The also similarly refuse to die, fighting on well beyond mortal wounds. Recognizing their stubbornness, Marius fills them with entropic energy, this time not warning Armon. The men explode, covering both warriors in yellow gore. Unable to stomach the smell, Armon begins to retch, stealing the breath he would otherwise be using to curse Marius.

Taking a moment to let Armon recover, Corryn shares his recollection of these barbarians, the darker skinned Alammari cousins of the Avar. Known as Chasind, they usually make their home in the Kocari Wilds, far south of their current position. The golden hue of the blood covering Tyree and Armon triggers a memory in Corryn and he relates his theory that these men suffered from Amber Rage, a disease not seen in Thedas for hundreds of years.

During the First Blight, the Chasind attempted to use herbs to enhance their warriors, make them stronger and faster to curb the Darkspawn threat. The plants themselves were tainted, so, while having the desired affect of enhancing their physical abilities, they also addled the mind, regressing the subject to an animal state. Even worse, the subject could then transfer the condition through bites to other victims. Entire Chasind villages succumbed to the Rage. Corryn recalls no record of how it was stopped.

Marius, Corryn, Armon, Broga, Felayne, Berchan, their dogs, horses, and donkey arrive in the peaceful village of Haven at dusk. They spot a likely building in the distance, and travel through the dark and quiet town to what they assume is the local inn. Finding the door locked and the windows boarded up, Broga tries his hand at the lock. The trivial thing takes hardly any effort to disable, but the door still will not budge.

Unable to resist the challenge, Broga and the others move around back. He successfully picks the lock on the rear door, but finds this one also stubbornly refuses to open. With Tyree out, Armon volunteers to try his hand. He takes several steps back then runs at the door, using his shoulder to force it open, smashing it off its hinges and knocking down the several chairs propped against it. The pair enter the seemingly deserted building quietly, though after all that racket anyone inside would surely already be alerted to their presence. Broga takes the second floor while Armon guards the stairs. After a few brief minutes, Broga reports back no souls upstairs. They move on to a door at the end of the hallway where the adept dwarf makes quick work of that lock, revealing the inn’s common room.

The room is in shambles, the floor littered with overturned tables, broken glass, and splintered chairs. Broga immediately begins canvassing the room for abandoned coins and intact bottles. While the dwarf is preoccupied with his search, a shuffling sound from behind the bar attracts Armon’s attention. An old man crawls out through the debris, obviously wounded, with a makeshift splint around his leg. Armon calls to those waiting outside for help. Not wanting any part in their vandalism and also unwilling to leave Felayne alone, Corryn stays outside while Marius enters the inn.

Noticing his yellow-tinged skin and acrid smell, Marius surmises that the man has suffered some malady but is unfamiliar with these particular symptoms. He tries questioning the man, but doesn’t get much information. Instead he repeatedly insists that they must stay away, leave, and depart. Having had enough of the man’s ravings, Marius provokes him into a rage. The man unexpectedly stands up quickly, despite his wounded leg, and lunges at the mage, attempting to bite him.

Marius quickly dodges out of the way, and Armon steps up to intercept the attack. Attempts to calm the man are met only with snarls and bites. Hesitantly, Armon strikes the man. When this has no affect, he strikes harder. Rather than red, his new wounds ooze a rancid, thick, yellow substance. Broga sticks him with several arrows and Marius blasts him with arcane energy, but still the man does not relent. Armon does not pull his killing blow, striking the barkeep down into a smelly heap.

Surprisingly, the old man immediately stands up again and continues his assault through injuries no man should survive. Against his better judgement, Marius warns Armon to back up. After one last blow, Armon heeds the warning. A potent spell leaves Marius’ staff, black energy entering the ears, eyes and nose of the infected man. Within seconds, the man explodes, covering the room, and Armon’s shoes, in a rain of yellow gore.

Wary of the water supply, Armon chooses not use the inn’s well to wash off the stench. After investigating a few houses only to find them empty, they wearily leave Haven, opting to camp on the western outskirts of town to wait for their wayward Avarrians and hopefully stop them from entering the devastated village.

Not one to give up, even on irresponsible, dog-killing barbarians, Corryn keeps trying, hoping that the Revenant’s spell runs its course before it’s too late. Through sheer stubbornness and force of will, and perhaps a bit of spiritual intervention, Corryn is able to snatch Tyree from the brink of death. A distant scream distracts them from this triumphant moment. Recognizing the terrified voice, Marius runs back to the riverbank.

He easily finds the sobbing woman near the reptile carnage, cradling Azur, both covered in blood. He gently pulls Felayne away from the unconscious, but clearly alive, Azur. Cathal takes her brother to dress his wounds, while Marius guides the unresponsive Felayne to the river to clean her up. Realizing the worst she has seen prior to this battle was the single Darkspawn in the caves of Redhold, he sympathizes with her reaction and begins to question the wisdom of bringing her along to rescue Izot in the dangerous Frostback Mountains. With the wounded tended to and the entire party now safely across the river, they decide to press on into the evening. The forest disappears behind them and they make camp on the flat prairie, a comfortable distance from the waterway.

The next day, as the group moves west towards the mountains, the terrain starts to become rocky and uneven. They come to the realization that they will not be able to take the horses with them to Banur’s camp. After debating several options and consulting Marius’ map, they decide to escort Felayne and the horses to the village of Haven, where she will await their potential return. If the worst should happen, she will have to complete her journey to Elmridge on her own. Felayne reluctantly agrees, wishing to help her friend, but knowing how ineffective in battle she would be. Figuring that since it’s been so long that Izot’s fate has been sealed either way, Corryn and Armon agree. Broga and Tyree remain indifferent, so long as their destination has the potential to include loot and glory. Azur vocally and vehemently objects, desperate to save his wife, but his protests are soundly ignored, even by his sister.

Night passes with no disturbances, but the morning light reveals that Azur is missing. Dog and Tyree ferret out his trail, which, as expected, makes a direct line northwest towards Banur and Izot. Cursing and swearing to all the Avar gods, Cathal gathers her gear and makes to follow him. Though they haven’t been on the best terms, Tyree volunteers his and Dog’s services to track the runaway. She agrees and the pair split from the main party, promising to catch up at or near Haven.

Not far from their camp, they find a depression in the grass where it appears Azur rested. The trail leading away from the site is not fresh, so they can tell he has time on them. Cathal gives a wry grin, says “Race you,” and takes off running. Never one to back down from a challenge, Tyree follows. Several minutes pass where they are very close, but Cathal suddenly stops. Oblivious, Tyree keeps going. Finally she shouts at him and points to attract his attention to a pile of corpses. Four dead Genlocks litter the ground, their Darkspawn corruption already turning the grass ashen around them. Avar arrows protrude from their flesh, indicating to the trackers that Azur was here. Now, more leery of their surroundings, they abandon their game and keep a watchful eye out for more Darkspawn.

As evening descends on the Avar, with still no sign of Azur, they press on into the night, trusting Dog’s nose to keep them on track. He proves worth his keep when, just after dawn, he barks and approaches a small copse. An arrow whizzes past Dog, shot by an unseen archer hidden among the trees. Furious that Azur would assault his companion, Tyree charges in.

Several more arrows come his way before Tyree locates Azur among the trees, one of those striking Cathal, who returns the favor. Upon seeing the wounded and frightened boy, Tyree rethinks his attack and instead uses his intimidating presence to scare Azur into surrender. Even as he drops his bow and drops his head, Cathal does not relent, sending several more arrows his way. Tyree makes a half-hearted attempt to stop her, until he puts the boy’s wounds and ashen complexion together with the Darkspawn casualties to realize what must have befallen him.

Cathal walks up to Azur and looks into his smokey, distant eyes. She places her hand on his shoulder and he drops to his knees, whimpering. She carefully unsheathes a dagger, slides it across Azur’s throat, kicks over his body, turns, and walks away. “Let’s go,” she says to Tyree, who stands in stunned silence for a moment, then hurries to follow, leaving the disgraced Azur to the land-dwelling scavengers, unfit for the halls of the Sky Goddess.

The Revenant blasts Tyree with a wave of entropic energy, but the stubborn Avar pushes his way through, reaching the undead mage and landing several solid blows. Tyree, with no sense of self preservation, shrugs off every magical attack the Revenant throws at him and continues his relentless assault. Berchan arrives in the clearing just in time to see the Revenant swallowed by the earth, slipping away from the brutal attack.

Marius, Corryn and Broga finally catch up, only to find the wild-eyed Avar, covered in blood and black sludge, cursing at the air. Another area fills with the sickly green mist, catching Broga and Corryn in its choking fumes. While the others canvas the clearing for any sign of the enemy, Tyree lets out a sharp whistle and yells a single command, “Track”.

Dog comes running to his master’s call. The mutt sniffs along the ground for a few moment, following a zigzag pattern, and, not far from where the Revenant sank, barks happily, then begins to dig. Berchan rushes over to assist, and they soon reveal the top of a bald, decaying head. Berchan proceeds to stab at it and Broga follows suit. Tyree does not join them, finding it difficult to stand, let alone lift his maul. He collapses onto the grass just as Armon enters the clearing.

Confused by Berchan and Broga stabbing the dirt, Armon is unsure how to proceed. Corryn, tending to the fallen Avar directs him to help. He is reluctant to join the boy and the dwarf, not wishing to mar Amaar Fin. Seeing their short mundane weapons become ineffective when the head sinks lower, Armon sighs and plunges his magnificent blade into the soil. It emerges covered in black sludge, the Revenant once more returned to his liquid form.

Though Tyree is clearly quite wounded, Corryn finds his healing magics useless. Though he knows it is futile, Marius attempts his bandages anyway. The Curse of Mortality prevents his wounds from being treated, leaving Tyree’s companions to watch helplessly as his life slips away. Berchan pushes his way through the circle around the dying Avar, kicks the man as hard as he can, and, through choked words, tells him, “Get up you stupid Avar! You still have to save my sister!”

Cathal lets out a cry of pain as the giant corpse she is gutting doubles over and closes its massive jaws on her leg. She retreats from it and confusion ensues as the massive creature, no longer interested in the horse, advances on the puny humans, and the seemingly endless mass of tangled reptilian corpses surround Broga and Armon. Determined not to be left out of the battle this time, Tyree dives into the water and pushes hard to cross as quickly as possible.

Azur and Felayne scramble to get out of the way, but, belying its size, the giant lizard is too fast. It reaches the two and rips into their flesh, adding their screams to the din of battle and their blood to the red river. Tyree climbs out of the water swinging his Avarian maul, distracting it so Felayne and Azur can escape. Before they do, however, a sickly green mist appears, surrounding the three, obscuring their vision and causing fits of coughing. Marius recognizes it as a magical spell, though not sure which one. He moves back, letting his warriors deal with this immediate threat, wary now of the puppet master he knows is lurking nearby. He suspects the witch, but doesn’t believe that just opening her door would warrant such a violent response.

Though having been deceased only a few minutes, the stench of rotten flesh sicken Armon and Broga as they cut the reptiles down, unsure if they are making any progress or just mutilating the same corpses over again. Hearing her screams, Armon bids Broga break off to help Felayne, sure that he can keep the smaller ones’ attention. He takes the command, but, reluctant to engage the larger creature in melee, draws his bow and heads off.

After it materializes, the green mist seems stationary, so the three move out of its area, Tyree towards the creature, Felayne and Azur away. As Tyree hammers at the giant creature, he is overcome by a terrible feeling of dread. It drains his energy and his will to live, which only makes him more dangerous. Now also aware that a mage is nearby, he redoubles his efforts to destroy the creature as quickly as possible. He splatters the beast’s skull, with a little help from Broga, Berchan and Cathal, then takes off into the trees, sure that his life is forfeit, but intent on taking the mage with him.

Hoping Tyree spotted the mage, Marius follows the swift Avar, at a safe distance of course. Corryn, Broga and Cathal do the same, leaving Armon alone to clean up the few remaining smaller creatures. Running with really no direction in mind, by chance he catches some movement in the trees. He abruptly changes direction and bursts into a small clearing. Before him stands the Revenant, his emaciated form fully reconstituted.

In the early morning hours, the adventurers quietly pack up their belongings and slip away from the unfriendly mage-woman and her strange hut. They spend the better part of the day following the stream southeast before finding a place to ford, where Marius tosses in a twig just to be sure it’s safe. When it floats peacefully downstream rather than being eaten, he nods and gives his approval to cross.

Tyree braves the waters first, wading across with one of Felayne’s horses, dragging a rope. At its deepest, the water only reaches up to the tall Avar’s chin, so he is able to trudge along the muddy bottom. After reaching the opposite bank, he secures the rope to the horse. Armon does the same on the far side forming a bridge of sorts. Using the rope as guide and support, the rest of them take it in turn to cross in groups, pairing a stronger swimmer to help a weaker one. Marius with Felayne and Cathal with Azur cross without incident. Corryn has a bit of trouble, almost losing his grip, but Berchan catches him and his horse, helping them across. Armon mutters under his breath how unusual that is, but keeps it to himself.

When the current proves too strong for the dwarf, Broga tries to hold on to his crossing companion, but the donkey panics, kicks him, and both of them are swept away. Tyree dives in to rescue them, donkey first, and is able to retrieve both before they get too far away. With the donkey and dwarf, and most importantly the supplies, safely on the south shore, Tyree moves back across to the north bank to mind the horse while Armon crosses.

As Armon climbs out of the river, something breaks the surface behind him, revealing three five-foot, green reptiles that crawl onto the south bank. The warriors and mages engage, unintimidated by their jaws jagged teeth appearing like cruel smiles. Even though several more join the fight, the reptiles prove little challenge to the now seasoned adventurers. Their corpses soon litter the bank and the water runs red with blood.

Tyree yells out a warning to his friends across the river, but flush from their easy victory over the lizards, they pay him little heed. Another creature climbs out of the river, similar to the other reptiles with the same wicked grin, but much, much larger. The thirty-foot beast goes immediately for the juiciest looking target, Felayne’s horse. More of the small ones accompany it, keeping Armon and Broga’s attention. Leaving the horse unattended, Tyree leaps into the water, but with every agonizingly slow, muddy step it seems he will be too late. Corryn moves to stabilize the horse with his healing magic, while Cathal and Marius stay a safe distance away, stinging the creature with arrows and bolts of energy.

Berchan flits in and out of reach, annoying and distracting the beast, and, to his delight, makes the killing blow, stabbing with his diminutive short sword right in it’s squinty black eye. Tyree makes his way back across the river to retrieve the last horse, while Marius eyes their kill, wondering how it might taste. Cathal volunteers to butcher it and find out, no stranger to dressing big game. Having spent much of their energy in the crossing, and not wanting to transport the meat far, they decide camping nearby would be ideal. Seeing little culinary value in the little ones, and to discourage scavengers from wandering into their camp, Armon decides to dispose of the small corpses. He picks one up and dumps it into the river and turns his back on it to retrieve another. When that ones twitches as he touches it, his first thought is that he didn’t quite finish the job, until he turns and sees the bloody, battered reptile corpse he just threw in swimming towards him.

They hardly notice passing through the empty streets of Halamshiral and make it well past the town before anyone remarks that there is no sign of an army encampment having existed in the field. No evidence of the campfires, no footprints, not even a single blade of grass out of place. Baffled, they spend a few moments concocting theories of an elaborate illusion, but by whom and to what end they cannot decipher. With no clues and little desire to linger, they ultimately abandon the mystery and leave the Dales behind.

When they near the west side of the Frostback Mountains, Cathal makes the suggestion that they approach Banur’s camp from the Orlesian side rather than crossing into Ferelden then doubling back westward. Upon interrogation, she admits that she does not know the way and could really only guess. Not wanting to take the risk, Marius makes the executive decision to continue on their originally planned route. Azur grumbles at the delay, growing more impatient to rescue his wife with every passing day.

After crossing back into barbaric Ferelden, they turn south before the imperial highway does, leaving it in an attempt to cut some time off their journey but are thwarted by a tributary to Lake Calenhad. They decide fording at night would be too perilous, so settle in on the banks for the night. With the death of Ice still on their minds, they quietly eat their trail rations and turn in early.

In the morning, as they prepare to cross the small river, Tyree mentions that he saw a large reptile resting on the banks during his watch, and warns they should probably watch out for it. Marius picks up a twig and tosses it into the swiftly flowing water. It is immediately set upon by a large pair of jaws. Wicked teeth snap the twig into nothingness then disappear back into the water just as quickly. Thanking his good friend Tyree, Marius suggests they move further south and attempt crossing at a less populated section of the waterway.

Near evening, they come to a place where the river empties into a small pond before continuing it’s journey to the massive Lake Calenhad. On the shore, a lone, ramshackle hut stands, seemingly empty. Curiosity, and the desire to secure the camp site, drive Broga, Tyree and Marius to investigate the building. Broga volunteers to go inside first. After carefully checking the door for traps and finding none, he creaks open the wooden door and enters the dusty room. The pungent smell of rotten fruit greets him, and he finds its source, a bowl in the center of a rickety table. That, a single chair and a few spiderwebs are all he discovers in the single room. Disappointed, he takes nothing, leaves the hut, and waves his companions away.

That night, a light suddenly appears, shining through the dirty window of the hut. Having seen no one enter, this piques Broga’s curiosity, and it beckons him back. Wisely, he wakes Tyree and Marius first, who agree to investigate this potential threat once more.

Having checked for traps on his first visit to the hut, Broga does not take the time to do so now. As he approaches the door, a slight tingling sensation tells him he shrugged off the effects of a paralyzing glyph. Counting on his famed dwarven resistance to magic, he ignores this warning and reaches for the door. This time his heritage fails him, and he is suddenly unable to move. The door flies open, and a very tall, slender woman with shocking magenta hair and eyes screams in fury, telling at them to leave her alone. For once, they do what they are told. Marius and Tyree each grab an arm of the paralyzed Broga and flee the scene, leaving the apparently crazy hermit to her rotten fruit.

During his watch, Tyree sees a ripe opportunity for revenge on Berchan, the annoying child who wouldn’t let him sleep. He sneaks up on the snoring boy and reaches out to grab him. Uncannily, Berchan rolls over, slipping through Tyree’s attempt. Undeterred, he tries again, and finally has success. He holds the struggling child and slaps him on the behind several times. The noise wakes up Broga and Armon, who peak at the scene, then roll over and go back to sleep. The slippery boy escapes the Avar’s strong grasp and flees into the darkness of the Dales, followed closely by his faithful dog, Ice. Tyree lets him go. Corryn, the only one that might care to chase him, remains undisturbed and unaware.

During the next watch, Broga notices the slight shimmering in the air collect to a single brighter point, grow more intense, then expand. Out of the light steps a ghostly figure of a child about Berchan’s age. It doesn’t speak, but appears very sad. Broga quickly wakes everyone up as it approaches their camp. Not sure he is a threat, everyone holds their fire. The child reaches Broga and tries to reach out to him. The transparent hand passes through the dwarf, chilling him to the bone and draining his energy. The boy’s nonthreatening demeanor and profound sadness moves the dwarf to not raise arms against it. Not so sympathetic, the arrows Cathal looses pass through the child without effect, as does Tyree’s maul. Frustrated, they fall back, ready to engage any living enemy that shows itself.

Expecting to see the distinctive pointed ears marking the children as elves, for who else would be haunting the Dales, Corryn is surprised to note their plain human features. He recalls that the offspring of a pairing between an elf and a human results in an entirely human child, but he does not spend long contemplating the implications of this. Several more silent, ghostly children appear with the same sad expression and approach.

Deaf to their cries of anguish and pain, Armon stoically slices through the spectral children with abandon, the searing light of the magical blade Aamar Fin burning them out of existence. After feeling the bite of their ghostly touch, Marius adds his magical assistance, and they soon overwhelm the spectres.

The still present shimmers coalesce again, this time revealing a much larger, nonhuman figure. The Nevarran immediately recognizes it as a high dragon and, like his ancestors before him, rushes headlong into battle with the huge beast. Cathal and Broga fire their arrows, but, just like the child, the missiles pass through it harmlessly. The dragon’s raking claws pass through Armon’s armor as if it weren’t there, soon depleting his energy until he can barely stand. At the last possible second, he retreats, tosses Aamar Fin to Tyree and hurries to Corryn for his healing hands.

Finally able to help, Tyree draws the attention of the spectral dragon, but has no more defense against it than did Armon, and is soon barely clinging to life. He does not retreat however, and manages to defeat the dragon before collapsing in exhaustion. Armon approaches and collects his sword back, leaving Corryn to tend to the Avar’s wounds.

After getting Tyree back up, Corryn finally notices that Berchan is missing. Tyree confesses that he ran off in the night, and is berated for letting the boy go off alone in such a dangerous place. Felayne volunteers her hounds’ services to track down their brother, knowing Berchan wouldn’t be far from Ice. Corryn accepts and the two follow the trail west into the morning fog. Marius sighs and follows. Left with only Avar and a thieving dwarf, Armon begrudgingly follows.

The puppy barks happily when he locates the dog, but Corryn and Felayne hesitate to approach the unusual scene. Berchan appears asleep, lying on the ground, curled up next to Ice. Completely surrounding him, ghostly children stand unmoving and stare at him. The puppies, sensing something is not quite right, halt their approach, sit and wait. Corryn bids Felayne stay back and sneaks up to investigate. Seeing Berchan’s breath in the chill spring air gives him some relief. A shout from behind draws his attention, and also that of the children, who in unison turn from watching the sleeping child to look at the noisy Tevinter mage.

The children do not move to engage, but Ice stands up and runs to greet his brothers. Corryn, the only one close enough to see, is confused by Ice still lying on the ground and simultaneously running to meet his brothers. Ice lunges at Marius and passes straight through him, draining some of the mage’s energy and confirming his ghostly status. The other dogs, confused and frightened, snap and bark at their brother, but have no more success than did Cathal or Tyree with their mundane weapons. Marius and Armon step in to destroy the ghostly hound, ignoring the children surrounding Berchan for the moment. In a desperate attempt to save Berchan from the soul draining shades, Corryn runs through them and shakes the boy awake. As soon as he opens his eyes, the spectres surrounding him unexpectedly vanish.

Disoriented, Berchan looks around groggily, trying to determine why all his friends are standing around him holding weapons. Assuming it must be time to leave, he places his hand on his beloved hound to wake him up, but shrinks back from the cold corpse and begins to weep. Cursing Tyree under his breath, Corryn attempts to comfort the crying child, but warns him that it’s not safe here and they need to move on. Between sobs, Berchan insists that he must bury Ice and starts clawing angrily at the earth with his small, bare hands. Late to arrive, Tyree hears Berchan’s desperation and joins his grave digging efforts without comment. With the Avar’s help, the grim process proceeds much faster.

Once the deed is complete, they silently break camp and head back to the road, once again leaving a place they hope never to return to.

Armon can only shake his head and refuse to enjoy the pair of chickens Cathal brings back for dinner the next evening. Tyree, bent on proving he’s a better hunter, brings back a Blight Wolf, but nobody eats it. Checking his tattered old map, Marius suggests they make for the town of Halamshiral to restock on supplies, maybe even replace the lost donkey. Corryn does recognize that they will be near The Dales, the former elven homeland, and recalls some superstitious nonsense about it being haunted, but that does not deter anyone. None of them well versed in elvish or elven lore, they all unknowingly agree to stop at the city with the ominous name, “the end of the journey.”

They reach Halamshiral the next evening and find a quiet, quaint little village. Lodging being their first order of business, they head straight to the first tavern they see. Tyree and Cathal take the animals around back to stable them while Marius and the others enter, hoping for a relaxing meal and comfortable beds. When Marius opens the door and sees the common room crammed with uniformed soldiers, he panics and shuts the door again. When the Avars return, he describes to them the sigil on their uniform, a green and white shield and sword. Cathal recognizes that symbol and spits on the ground in disgust and disrespect of the Avar’s mortal enemy, Arl Wulff’s West Hill soldiers. Felayne confirms Cathals assessment, if not her disgust. Looking at Berchan and wondering how it might look to the Arl’s men to be seen with his missing son and three barbarians, he decides that tonight might be a good night to sleep under the stars.

Corryn and Armon find it very unusual for the Arl’s men to be sitting in a tavern in Orlais and worry that he’s planning some sort of invasion. Duty bound, they decide to canvas the town for clues. Wanting nothing to do with this town or the dynamics of Ferelden-Orlesian politics, the three Avars, Tyree, Cathal and the oft forgotten Azur, retrieve the animals and agree to meet up with their companions on the west side of town after their investigation. Felayne and her puppies stay with Marius to wander the streets of Halamshiral, intent on gathering the commoners’ take on the Arl’s ‘invasion’. Armon heads out in search of other taverns while Corryn dedicates his time to finding shops. Forgotten for the moment, Berchan and Ice slip off quietly to get into untold mischief.

Although the dirt roads of Halamshiral appear well traveled, this evening they also appear eerily quiet and empty to the urban Tevinterite. After walking for many minutes without encountering another soul, Marius and Felayne come across a lone old man seated on the ground leaning on a wooden staff near a ramshackle building. He greets them with a smile, making Marius immediately suspicious. The cryptic beggar gives no help to them with his circular responses to Marius’ carefully worded questions regarding the Arl’s men and their activities in Halamshiral. Getting irritated with the old man’s banter, Marius finally makes the straightforward statement that the West Hill soldiers shouldn’t be here. He receives an unexpected and somewhat sinister response from the old man, who says he shouldn’t be here either. Suddenly worried that things are not what they seem and feeling vulnerable without his bodyguards, Marius and Felayne bid the old man goodnight and hurry off.

Wandering the streets in search of shops proves fruitless for Corryn. He eventually comes across a dwarf and asks for directions. Looking the mage up and down, then rolling his eyes, he directs Corryn to a small building whose sign has no words, only a circle carved into the old wood. When he enters, a young woman greets him, “Welcome, Corryn.” He hides his shock from her strangely vacant stare, and asks how she knew his name. “That’s one of my duties,” she replies. She also apologizes for the lack of merchandise, stating her supply caravans haven’t arrived for quite some time. Not interested in the merchandise anyway, he asks if she has a way to get a message to First Enchanter Rhys. Eager to assist, she disappears behind a shelf and returns carrying a large dusty book, a quill and an inkwell. She opens the book to a blank page, dips the quill into the inkwell, then gives it to Corynn, instructing him to write his message. He scrawls a few words in the blue ink and is surprised when they vanish. The mage realizes this girl is one of the Tranquil, a former mage having had her connection to the fade severed, but he doesn’t know whether to pity her or be disgusted. She confirms that Rhys’ response, if he sends one, will appear in the book, but that it may take several days. He warns the girl that the Empress may be passing through the area, but receives the shocking news that the Empress is dead, murdered only three days ago. Incredulous that this shopkeeper could know that already, she defends her claim by saying she received the news in the book. After calculating that he left her camp exactly three days ago, he decides to keep this vicious and probably untrue rumor to himself. He thanks the girl and asks for directions to the nearest tavern, hoping to meet up with Armon and continue the investigation.

Corryn finds himself in a seedy part of town after following the tranquil girl’s directions. When he enters the building looking most like a tavern, he is greeted by many elves who don’t seem to be very happy to see him. He apologizes in the face of their crossbows and ducks out just in time to hear the bolts thump into the other side of the door. Cursing the awful directions he’s always given, he returns to wandering about Halamshiral on his own.

Stubbornly refusing to ask anyone for directions, Armon wanders the streets until he finds a likely looking building and enters. Just as he gets a look at the room full of elves, a crossbow bolt grazes his cheek and sticks in the doorframe. The patrons do not take kindly to the second intruder of the evening and chase off the Nevarran with another volley of bolts. Dejected and clueless, Armon returns to aimlessly wandering. He locates another building that looks tavernish and enters. A single dwarf stands behind a freestanding polished wooden bar in the middle of an empty room. The dwarf looks up, but does not say anything. Armon takes a seat and proceeds to interrogate the barkeep about the soldiers in town. The dwarf looks around the empty establishment, chuckles a bit, and claims he hasn’t seen any soldiers, Ferelden or otherwise. He kindly offers the depressed warrior a drink, and, against his better judgement, Armon accepts. After the first gulp burns all the way down, he slaps down a few silver, accepting the second drink without question.

Curiosity gets the better of Tyree, bored with waiting and uncomfortable around his own people, so he leaves the rendezvous point to scout the east side of town where they will be headed in the morning. On the outskirts of Halamshiral just north of the road heading out, he sees the twinkling of hundreds of camp fires in the distance. He takes this to mean that the Arl’s entire army is camped on the Orlesian doorstep. He sneaks back to share this information with his companions, but upon his arrival finds they have still not returned from his adventures.

Stumbling upon another large building, Corryn enters, hoping to find Armon. Instead, he finds a lone dwarf in the middle of an empty bar polishing a mug. He asks the barkeep if he’s seen anyone else this evening, to which he replies no. Disappointed, he turns to leave, but the sound of a high sing-song voice gives him pause. Turning back, he begins to pace the perimeter of the empty room, searching for the source of the sound. Stricken by the mage’s odd behavior, the dwarf asks him to kindly leave. Corryn of course ignores the request, so he becomes more insistent by pulling a crossbow. Having protected himself with Rock Armor after his last encounter, Corryn does not fear the mundane weapon and continues his searching. Finally the dwarf loses his patience and foolishly fires. Corryn quickly dispatched the annoying dwarf, but does not kill him, still not sure what he was trying to protect. Behind the bar, he finds Armon stuffed into a corner unconscious and relieved of his purse. After rousing the warrior and retrieving his coin and his softly glowing sword Amar Fin, they leave the tavern. The roaring flames engulf the building behind them as they return together to the west end of Halamshiral.

Running out of options but not quite ready to give up, Marius follows the main road through town to the east edge. There he witnesses a pair of soldiers stumbling and singing drunkedly, heading out of town. He steps out of the shadows and confronts one of them, attempting to glean their purpose here. The soldier seems strangely aloof, answering most of his questions with ambiguous one word answers or just staring off and ignoring the question altogether. Even further convinced that something is very off about the entire situation, Marius and Felayne abandon their search for information. No longer concerned about the appearance of the Ferelden soldiers in Orlais, just with leaving Halamshiral as quickly as possible, they hurry back through town to the west to meet with the Avar.

Corryn, half dragging Armon, crosses paths with Marius and Felayne near the first inn, which is now dark and silent. When asked about their adventures, Armon and Corryn decline to comment. Marius lets the matter drop and makes to leave, but Corryn finally notices that Berchan is not with them. Unconcerned and tired, Marius continues walking. Glad that the abomination is missing and hoping he is never found, Armon stumbles after Marius, leaving Corryn, Felayne and her puppies alone in the quiet darkness.

Not very long after, Berchan’s snow white Mabari hound, Ice, saunters out into the meager light shed by Corryn’s wisp, sits in front of them and waits. Knowing that he wouldn’t be far from his beloved hound, they continue to wait in silence. Tired of his game, Berchan shouts at Corryn from behind him in an attempt to startle him but to no avail. He collects the boy and the dog and wearily heads out of Halamshiral back to the group. Hoping to a avoid contact with the West Hills soldiers if they move through town, they set up their campsite south if the road, further into the Dales. Corryn notices slight shimmers in the air and warns that the Veil seems thin here. Not worried, the weary travelers set a watch, bundle themselves into their blankets and head to sleep just as the sky begins to lighten.