My Warden (COMPLETED)

Extra Scenes - Two

Here's the second couple of extra memories I wrote but didn't fit into the overall story. The first one is a wee bit cheesy putting Lana in the middle of the Qunari invasion in Kirkwall. I'd thought maybe I should explain how she knew Cullen was in Kirkwall to recruit him, then I realized who cares. She knew because she had to. A wizard did it.

I wish I'd been able to get the second in the deeproads in somewhere but it was a bit too bittersweet to work. It's one of my favorite short scenes.

Enjoy!

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9:34 Kirkwall

Lana's fingers raked across the grey skin of one of their Antams, fire bursting in their wake. The qunari stumbled back, shrieking about her being a sarabass as his skin enveloped in flames. The smell was best not spoken of in polite company. Their visit to Kirkwall began so well she forgot to check the forecast for chances of qunari invasions.

"Commander!" one of the wardens shouted, waving a hand at her. "We should find Stroud."

"Where is he?" Lana called back. They began surrounded by qunari but made quick work breaking their masses down one by one. The qunari expected an easy win, rushing down the stairs to face unarmed men, women, and children huddled in fear. They didn't anticipate an entire warden regiment meeting them head on.

"He's in Lowtown," the second warden answered. She'd only met them the day before, all part of the Free Marches order, all as nameless as the wind to her. You need to get better at remembering names, Lana.

"And where are we?"

"Darktown."

"For the love of the Maker," Lana shouted, firing an ice bolt at a qunari rushing towards them, "was the mapmaker in Kirkwall an imbecilic drunk? Who names part of their city 'insert-word' town?"

"Don't have an answer for that, Ser," the first one, the one with the red beard but no hair saluted at her. He'd been doing that all morning, and into the afternoon.

"How do we get to Lowtown?" Lana asked, shaking her head. Why couldn't this be easier? This should be easy, the hard part was yet to come.

"Um," the red beard pointed in the direction up the stairs where flames danced across the steps and more qunari slashed their way through Kirkwall's people.

"Please tell me there's another answer," Lana sighed. She itched to put a stop to this madness, but getting involved again would have her sanctioned even worse than before. Sure you stopped a blight, but did you have to put Alistair on the throne to do it? As if she had any say in what he did. You take the crown, I'll take the blame.

"I believe I have one, Ser," the young one said. He was eerily young, looked at best sixteen but spoke as if he was forty five. She'd assume elf if it weren't for the round ears. "Follow me," he ran them away from the steps up and further into this Darktown. Terrified citizens, innocents caught in the crossfires, shrieked past them, all begging for help. She wished she could grant it; burns, scrapes, and worse across the skin of the people trampling each other to escape. But healing these people would take time, would be a distraction, would put her and her party in danger. Lana turned away from them and hitched up her robes.

The young one turned the rest of their party to the right and deeper down a decrepit tunnel. Lana spun to follow when she heard a crack reverberating through the ceiling not near them, but above entire families scurrying to escape. Instinct took over and she parted the veil in record time, catching the falling beams -- thicker than a man -- in her fade fist. Debris and dust rained down on the fleeing people who all collapsed in terror at what they thought was their end. One by one, each glanced up, spotted the broken beams hanging above their heads as if by magic, and began to run away.