There's a woman waiting - lurking, perhaps, might be a better verb - off the roadside near a bend a couple hundred feet from the edge of the encampment. Her eyes flicker over the three of them, lingering briefly on Alistair's armor as she steps into view and walks towards them.

"Please, ser, this is important, I have information for the grey wardens but the soldiers wouldn't let me into the camp, not even under guard, please ser it's about the blight -"

Draconis stares blankly. Alistair moves to step out in front of them, like they need to be protected - which, uh, maybe they do, they've kind of both been killed in the past day or so, that's not a great track record. But she's pretty sure the first of the labors is to stop the blight, and the wacky spirit things have kind of thrown her a bone with the whole not-getting-her-friends-killed thing, so she figures she should probably at least attempt to repay them in kind.

She steps out in front of Alistair, puts on her most diplomatic smile, and does her best to ignore how much her throat hurts right now. "Hey. What'cha need?"

A brief moment of confusion - the elf doesn't look like an officer - but then Malak's focus shifts and - 

(- The elf looks tired - Fade, she looks half-dead - might be more willing to listen just out of sheer exhaustion, might be willing to let Malak in just so she'll be someone else's problem, less likely to spot a misdirection or falsehood - she's an elf, not used to being respected, being polite is an easy way to get on her good side - )

Malak shifts her balance slightly, stooping a tiny bit to bring her eye level just below the other woman's - "The grey wardens, ma'am. I have a report to make to their commander, Duncan, about the scouting expedition he sent into the wilds, but the soldiers on guard wouldn't let me in to make it. Said I obviously - " she gestures slightly at her Chasind clothing - "didn't have any real business in the camp and must be lying."

Aria tries to say something, but ends up choking on it. For a second, she sounds like she's about to cough up blood. Alistair says something in a concerned tone that she can't quite make out, and then Draconis moves his hands and says something else, and suddenly she can breathe again.

"Thanks," she rasps, but she feels like she can mostly talk now. She straightens up and looks at Malak again. "Sorry. We're a little worse for wear at the moment. But we're all grey wardens, and we're heading back to see Duncan now. We can take a message or try to get you in with us, up to you." 

"I doubt we can personally get unrelated civilians into the camp," puts in Alistair, frowning. "Particularly right now."

"...that's fair. We're sort of in trouble. But we can take a message - we're not in shoot-on-sight trouble, and they have to let us back in to tell us exactly how much trouble we're in."

Aria smiles as brightly as she's capable of, under the circumstances. Alistair groans.

"Ah. Well. I have information about this blight and about where his treaties are. And it's...complicated enough that I should probably explain it directly, rather than through intermediaries?"

Also she wants assurances of safety which a bunch of - disgraced? - junior wardens probably can't provide. But mentioning that would be impolitic.

"Yeah, that seems important. We might as well ask, worst they're gonna do is not let you in."

She actually has no idea what the worst the grey wardens can do is, given that Duncan straight-up murdered Jory the last time she saw him, but apart from that they've been all right so far.

She's sure the Wardens can do worse but it's not like she's got a ton of better options. Run away and join the Qunari, maybe. She's pretty sure she doesn't want to do that.

"Let's ask, then."

The guards on duty recognize them all, including Malak. Aria summons her best diplomatic smile and all of her confidence, cheerfully tells them that the four of them are all on official warden business, and silently prays that Duncan hasn't started a manhunt for them in the past day or so.

They glance at Alistair. Apparently his expression is consistent with them being on official warden business, because the guards allow them all in without a problem.

"Huh. Sometimes I'm conveniently wrong," says Aria, when they're well inside the gates.

"Convenient." She's still not optimistic. Being introduced to the Wardens' leader by a group who are in unspecified amounts of trouble for unspecified reasons is not the best introduction she could hope for, and it's not like her story would be very plausible even if presented in the best possible way.

It's a bit of a walk to the Wardens' area of the camp. There are dozens of different tents scattered across the camp, some of them obviously soldiers' quarters and some of them more specialized - there are shops, some people tasked with guarding the kennels, and an area that's been sealed off for use by the circle of magi.

"We didn't get your name," says Draconis, before they reach their destination.

"Malak. Just Malak."

"Malak," he repeats, then points to each of them in turn. "Draconis Amell, Aria Tabris, and Alistair's just Alistair. As far as he's told me, anyway."

"Just Alistair," confirms Alistair, before whispering something to Aria. She shrugs at whatever it is and doesn't appear to take it seriously.

Duncan looks very grave when they reach him. He frowns at Alistair and Aria, but pauses longest on Draconis, as if he’s trying to puzzle something out. He doesn’t immediately acknowledge Malak at all.

"I trust you have an explanation,” says Duncan.

"We do. But it's sensitive. And sorta long. And we also found someone who says she has vital information about the blight."

"I think my mother - that would be Felandris, or Flemeth, or the Witch of Wilds - started this blight. Intentionally. Also she stole your treaties."

Alistair stares incredulously at Malak. Aria crosses her arms as if this is a totally reasonable and believable thing to report. (It's not. It's completely unbelievable. But it's not more unbelievable than anything else that's happened in the past day, so there's that.)

"Why do you think this?" asks Duncan, not giving any sign one way or another whether he's taking the assertion seriously.

"She knew about it. Months ago, before the darkspawn numbers started increasing, before they showed any signs of organization, she knew. She said that you would need those treaties and then sent me into the swamp to take them out of your reach. She wants you to lose the battle here, she's been arranging it - I don't know how, she doesn't tell me everything, but she talks about pieces coming together, about your impending defeat here - "

"Now wait just a minute - " says Alistair.

"Do you have these treaties with you?" asks Duncan, who is apparently not interested in waiting just a minute.

"No, I brought them to her months ago before I - defected, I guess? I couldn't get them when I left."

"Do you have any evidence that what you say is true? Or, failing that, any information on how your mother intends to bring about the loss of this battle?"

"I don't. I think she's planning to assassinate one of your commanders? Loghaine Mac Tir? I could take you to her home in the swamp but I can't see why you'd follow me if you don't already believe me, you'd need a lot of soldiers if you wanted to take her in a fight, she's a mage and a shapechanger..."

"I see," says Duncan, gravely. "I can inform Teyrn Loghain of the danger, but I cannot take drastic action on your word alone, even if my comrades vouch for your honesty."

"Oh, we don't vouch for her anything," puts in Alistair. 

"I can hardly blame you for that prudence." (She totally can, but admitting it would be imprudent)

"May I beg sanctuary of you?"

"I doubt that you could leave the area before the darkspawn descended upon us. If your explanation is not urgent - "

The other wardens shake their heads and make various noncommittal sounds.

" - then I will discuss our defenses with Teyrn Loghaine. All of you are to remain inside the camp."

Once Duncan steps out she turns to the junior wardens and cracks a smile.

"Well that could have gone worse."

"It really could've!" agrees Aria, brightly, "Duncan's a reasonable sort in general, though. You eaten anything lately?"

She hasn't eaten anything lately, and if she had she would probably have lost it along with the rest of the contents of her intestines.

"...not since leaving home. I suppose if there's a battle imminent I should eat first. Since battles tend to be pretty tiring."

"That's what I figure," says Aria, strolling off towards a different area of the camp. "You know how to fight? We must be leaving the camp followers somewhere, if you don't, but numbers help."

"I do. Quite well, in fact - but not well enough to turn the tide of a battle with a horde of darkspawn. My skills are better suited for smaller-scale, tactical applications."

"That's fine. I don't think anybody's that good. 'S why we have armies."

"Aria killed an Arl's entire garrison, though."

"Yeah. I did. It was awesome," she says easily, but she turns away from the others and picks up the pace.

That's impressive. And excessive. And maybe indicative of at least a touch of poor judgement to even get into a situation where that would be necessary. And more than a tad upsetting to her, given her reaction.

"Ah... Food? Food, let's eat."

There is food! Not a ton of food, as most people are getting ready for the battle, but there's bread and cheese and some grilled vegetables and lukewarm stew full of unidentifiable chunks of meat. They're not required to pay for it - the three of them are recognized as wardens, and Malak is clearly associated with them. Draconis pokes at the stew suspiciously. Aria and Alistair don't have any trouble eating it, though Aria's still avoiding eye contact with anyone else.

She really hasn't eaten in hours, and the stew probably does not contain people. She eats at a measured pace, but unreluctantly. After a couple minutes, she puts a hand on Aria's elbow and leans in, speaking softly enough that Draconis shouldn't hear.

"Sometimes circumstances force us to do things we're not proud of. You aren't a worse person for having worse fortune than others."

Well that's weird. Nice? But weird. Then again, so is everyone around here, and it beats the automatic assumption that she's a murderous psychopath.

"We do our best," she murmurs. "I'm sure that means you, too."

"That we do. In the end, that's what counts, or at least so I'm inclined to believe."

The table is quiet for a moderate amount of time. Alistair is the one to break the silence.

"So. Your mother's an apostate, then?"

"...And an immortal shapechanger out of legend. I suppose you could say that those aren't entirely unrelated, but..."

"Uh-huh," says Alistair, with a distinct air of skepticism. "And you think she's - responsible for the blight, somehow?"

"I have no idea how she managed it but yes, I think she is. It's her style, just on a bigger scale than I've seen before."

"....what've you seen before?"

"She escalated a feud between a couple of Antivan princes into an armed conflict so that she could gain influence with a third. She sparked an - ultimately failed - rebellion in Rivain as cover for an assassination. She arranged the assassination of Emperor Florian and spent a year taking advantage of the state of near-civil-war that left Orlais in. She creates chaos as a smokescreen for her schemes, I don't know what she's planning that would need a whole blight to cover it but whatever it is I'm sure I don't want it to happen."

"Well that's concerning," says Aria, thoughtfully munching the last of her bread. She's mostly trying to figure out whether the spirits could've known anything about this, and also how seriously she should be taking spirits anyway. Probably at least a little seriously, if they can raise the dead. "Anyway. Glad we ran into you, then. We should probably check where Duncan wants us for the fight."

Malak isn't looking forward to taking part in a pitched battle, but at least their orders should give a sense of whether Duncan believed her at all. Or trusts her.

"Mm." is all she says.

Duncan appears no more pleased with the situation than he did when he left. "The three of you are to report to the Tower of Ishal, where you will light the beacon at my signal. The beacon is of vital strategic importance, and without it, Teyrn Loghain's men will not know when to emerge from their positions and charge."

"You need three people just to hold a torch?" says Alistair, dubiously.

"The king personally requested the three of you, Alistair. The tower will not be the main site of the battle, but it is not outside the realm of possibility that darkspawn will appear there. The beacon must be lit at the proper time, regardless of any hazards you encounter there."

And she'll just...follow along? At least until someone stops her - lighting a beacon sounds like a wonderfully safe assignment, she can try to make her case about her mother when the battle is over.

Aria's honestly just gonna assume that Malak is part of their merry band of adventurers until she does something to challenge that assumption. Attrition rates for people associated with Aria and the wardens have been pretty bad lately, but hey, if Malak wants to tag along then that seems like Malak's business.

Night has fallen as the four of them reach the Tower of Ishal. It's big and old and looms ominously above them. The ominousness could have something to do with the weird sounds coming from inside it.

The Grey Wardens had seen the Archdemon's designs in their dreams, and so thought they could stop it. The darkspawn had emerged south of Ferelden, giving the king time to gather the forces he would need for the defense of the realm. Ostagar was a strong point - if the horde could be lured to battle here it could be broken. The darkspawn seemed willing enough to fight here, and so battle plans had been drawn up.

Nothing too complicated, of course - The king had come up with a dozen such plans, but Teryn Loghain had managed to talk him down to something that the army's commanders would actually be capable of executing. Even with the simple plan they settled on in the end, Loghain had had to maneuver to ensure that he commanded the only part that needed actual command. Cailan would lead the defense beneath the walls of the fortress, where the morale benefits of fighting beside the king would more than make up for his inexperience. Loghain would lead the band of seasoned veterans waiting to pounce on the darkspawn's flank once the horde was fully committed. Trapped between the hammer of Loghain's veteran reserves and the anvil of Ostagar's walls, the darkspawn would be utterly crushed.

Or at least that was the plan.

They had underestimated the Archdemon's intelligence. This was understandable - none now lived who remembered the last blight. Every encounter they had had with darkspawn before had been with disorganized creatures, demonstrating some low cunning perhaps but no real thought. Darkspawn with plans, ambitions, *strategies* - though the king and the teryn and the wardens *knew* this was what they faced, they had not adjusted their mindset appropriately. They thought themselves fortuitous that the horde had emerged so far south, giving them time to prepare and gather. (Never thinking that their gathering was the will of Dumat.) They thought themselves lucky that Ostagar blocked the horde's path, and wondered how they might lure the hordes to battle there. (Never wondering whether they were being lured.)

For the Archdemon had seen the Grey Wardens' designs in its dreams, and so knew how to destroy them.

At first, the battle seemed to be going according to plan. (According to both plans) The darkspawn rushed in at the king's men, but the king's men held. Arrows and spells rained down on the back ranks of the horde, cutting through their numbers. (Expendable, replaceable) A message was dispatched to light the beacon signalling Loghain's charge - too early, of course, but this is why Loghain had given himself the command he had. He could see the shape of the battle unfold from above, and determine for himself when the horde was committed. But before the signal could be lit, everything went wrong as Dumat's plan began to unfold.

They had underestimated the darkspawn. Forgotten, perhaps, that these creatures were native to the deep roads and sprawling network of caverns beneath the earth. Or perhaps just not drawn the obvious conclusion that creatures that lived underground would know how to tunnel as well as they did. The tower of Ishal was the first to fall when the darkspawn burst through the ground, but soon holes were opening up everywhere, darkspawn flooding into the fortress and up the ramparts.

The doors of the tower burst open just as Aria and company were approaching. Four - no, six - twelve - twenty - too many hurlocks to count spilled out of the tower, spreading out. One band moved towards the warden-recruits while others ran for the fortress walls in closely-packed groups, blades out but moving without the howls and war cries characteristic of darkspawn.

So much for wonderfully safe. She draws her blades. "Um. I think our mission might just be a failure."

Well, shit. 

She's not a proper soldier, but she's been outgunned before, both in the Arl's estate and in the stupid cave where she died the first time. They can try cutting through the horde, but she doesn't think she can fight dozens of darkspawn simultaneously; odds are that ends with the rest of her party killed and her being taken alive, provided the spirits weren't bullshitting her. She's not entirely sure they weren't bullshitting her. 

Their other option, of course, is to flee. Fleeing means abandoning their mission and leaving the Teryn without a signal, at which point the battle is as good as lost. She's also not entirely sure where they'd flee to, given that darkspawn seem to be swarming over the entire landscape, but maybe if they had some altitude they could identify an escape route? She wouldn't even be considering escape if not for the feeling at the back of her mind that there was no way they were going to hold Ostagar, in which case the darkspawn would move north, in which case they needed to be able to form a force that could defeat a horde this size, in which case they were gonna need the warden treaties.

In which case - provided Malak wasn't bullshitting them - they needed Malak to tell them where they were.

Draconis's magic crackles through the air, lighting half a dozen darkspawn on fire as Aria and Alistair move to defend him from the horde. 

"How many of these things can you incinerate?!" she screams, burying her sword in one of the monsters.

"Not this many! Not without lyrium - half of this group at most, and only if they stay close together - "

That's something, then. Not enough, but something.

"Gonna have to cut our way through them! If we can get a decent angle on the tower we can maybe light it from the ground, but we're gonna need enough space to shoot an arrow up - "

Malak cuts down two darkspawn, but one of her daggers catches in the second's collarbone. She leaves it and scoops up a darkspawn blade off the ground. "That sounds better than trying to fight through all of them! Draconis, what's your range?"

"Not far enough to light the beacon from here. If I were in, like, a tree or something - ?"

"So climb a tree!"

"I don't know how to climb trees!" 

Malak can climb trees. Malak has a crossbow. This probably won't work, but - 

She runs for a nearby tree, vaulting a Hurlock along the way, climbs - down below they're shooting at her but she hasn't been hit yet - 

She gets three-quarters of the way up, props herself in the last fork she thinks will support her weight, and holds a single bolt as far from the tree trunk as she can.

"Draconis!"

" - if I hit you I am really fucking sorry," he says, and then shoots his flames at the crossbow bolt.

He hits her. Her left hand is burned pretty bad, but she slaps the bolt into place, aims as carefully as she can - given the pain, her position, and the arrows flying past her this is not very careful at all - and pulls the trigger.

Without a left hand to support her, the recoil knocks her backwards out of her perch. After crashing through several branches on her way down she hits the ground and everything goes black.

She takes the head off a darkspawn and glances up at the tower. Something up there is on fire, and she's pretty sure that's all they can really be expected to do here.

"Beacon's lit! Grab her and fall back to the fortress!"

Alistair picks Malak up and carries her; Draconis isn't strong enough and is also occupied with incinerating whatever darkspawn they run into. Aria takes the rear. They manage to make it back to the ruined fortress, and when it's also overrun, they make a beeline for the massive stone bridge to the north.

As the hordes flooding up into the fortress took the walls, the archdemon let loose its ogres onto the field. The brutes charged between the darkspawn lines and crashed into the defenders. Faced with such foes, Cailan's forces - mostly fresh recruits - broke and fled back to the safety of the walls. But the walls were no longer safe. Trapped between the anvil of Ostagar's walls and the hammer of the darkspawn hordes, the defending army was crushed as thoroughly as they had hoped to crush the horde.

When he saw the ogres rushing in, Loghain ordered his troops to ready for their charge - the Archdemon had been cautious thus far, but it was committed now and Loghain would close the trap around it. As the beacon went up in flames just moments later, he adjusted his estimate of Cailan's sense of strategic timing upwards. But then, by the light of the beacon and the smaller watchfires atop the fortress walls he saw the disaster unfolding. He saw the darkspawn take the walls, saw them firing down on Cailan's men trapped in the pass. And he did the only thing he could. He sounded the retreat and called his captains to him to plan their next steps.

The defenders had underestimated the cunning of the archdemon. The archdemon was intelligent, vicious, ruthless. There was no reason, in hindsight, to think it would restrict itself to open battle. So when a massive dragon descended from the skies to tear apart Teryn Loghain and his captains before taking wing and flying off into the night, nobody had any reason to suspect it was anything besides Dumat, exceeding their expectations for a third time.

Leaderless and demoralized, Ferelden's veteran forces fled the battle in a disorganized rout, scattering across southern Ferelden.

Draconis patches up Malak's hand and head at they walk, waiting for his magic to replenish every now and then. He's pretty much dead on his feet (ha) by the time they come across an old abandoned farmhouse that Aria declares sufficiently defensible. 

They're exhausted, and Malak doesn't seem like she's in great shape to answer questions about where the treaties might be, so they rest for the night and plan to finish regrouping in the morning. 

In the morning Malak's a bit more conscious. "Battle's over? Did we win? Where are we?"

Aria hands her a bottle of small beer that she's been carrying around; it seems important to get some kind of liquid into her. "The battle is over, we didn't win, we're in some kind of abandoned farmhouse. That was smart with the beacon back there. Also arguably kind of stupid, but I like to think the two aren't mutually exclusive."

"It felt smart right up until my hand was on fire, then it felt kind of stupid. I don't know if it worked -

Wait. We're alone here. Where's the rest of the army?"

"Scattered to the four winds, unfortunately. Thorough win for team darkspawn." She looks a bit more serious after this, and quite a lot more tired. "Draconis and Alistair are sleeping still. Given that the rest of the wardens and a good chunk of the army are KIA, we're gonna need to figure out what our next move is from here. You said your mom had warden treaties, yeah?"

"She has them. She probably won't just hand them over, though., we should be ready for another fight if we go to get them."

"How hard a fight, though? If she's controlling the Blight then I don't see a direct assault working."

"I don't know. Harder than the darkspawn at the tower for sure. I don't think she's in control of the Blight, if she could do that I don't know why she's messing around with Antivan princes, I think she just...set it off somehow. As for indirect methods - we should try sneaking in and stealing the treaties, for sure. But be ready for a fight if that doesn't work."

"Yep. Sneaking sounds better. I'm just wondering if we're going to need more resources to even attempt something like that, not that I have any idea where we'd get them. And I don't know the limits of her magic, or whether she has abilities that interfere with normal sneaking."

"I don't know everything that she can do, but I don't think she has any magical perception powers. She's a mage, and can probably do anything you would expect a skilled mage to be able to do. The only things she can do that another mage couldn't are change her shape and live forever. That I know of.

Sneaking in, we should not assume that just because we haven't seen her she isn't watching us, she could be any random lizard or bird or snake we pass. But I think that's it."

"Yeah. I guess I can't think of anything better to do with my life than just sneaking into her house and attempting to take the treaties. Though maybe - if we knew she were going to be in a different place at some point, that'd be something?"

"I can't say for sure, but... now might be our best shot, actually. She's probably out there politicking and following up on Ostagar. And if she's not doing that she's probably moving to avoid the blight and then we won't know where to find her."

"Fair enough. Then we should do it now. You up for going home?"

"We're not going to get a better chance."

"I mean, yeah. Just, you came to us for sanctuary, I don't want to drag you back to steal some treaties from your mom if you were more interested in the sanctuary than in stopping the end of the world. I want you along, but if you'd rather give me directions and head for Lothering then that's your call."

"If Ostagar had gone differently and sanctuary was still a meaningful option I might have taken that. But it's not and you need me. Let's just get going."

"All right then. You good to walk?"

"Think so. My hand hurts, and my side. Not sure if I'll be any good in a fight, but I can walk."

She nods, stands, and offers a hand to help Malak to her feet. "That's good. Draconis patched you most of the way up."

After they've woken the others and informed them that they're going after the treaties, they can follow Malak back into the wilds.

The marsh is eerily silent as they make their way through it. No birdcalls, no buzzing of insects - nothing but the sounds of their footfalls on wet dirt.

In time, they come across three dead Darkspawn, half-submerged in the muck.

"Hmm. More uglies. Wonder what killed these ones."

"Do we suppose it was our apostate friend?"

"Probably. We're close, and I can't think who else would have."

"We're tougher than three darkspawn. Don't wanna have to be, though. Tread lightly."

She follows Malak further into the forest.

It isn't that much farther; they pass a few more trees and go over a hill and then it's there in front of them, a three-story wooden hut improbably propped up by old, worn timbers. More dead darkspawn are strewn about the clearing.

"Well. Here we are. No smoke from the chimney, so she's probably out."

"All righty, then."

It's easier to talk your way out of things if you try the front door first like a civilized person, so that's what she does.

The first room is nearly empty - bookshelves along the walls have been cleared off, their contents moved into a couple of open chests in the middle of the room. An old cauldron, a couple of cots, but no signs of anyone (or anything) there right now.

Up the rickety ladder to the second floor is another story. The various shelves around this room have been emptied too, but there is little to indicate where the contents may have gone. Three humans - all still wearing the leather armor common among Ferelden's soldiers - lie dead on the ground, their faces wracked with agony; broken glass and empty flasks lie next to them. Framed by their remains is a corroded metal lockbox, unremarkable apart from its placement.

"Homey. Tempted to try the box immediately, but the decor suggests that might not be the smartest plan ever."

"Yeah. That's...not usually here. I don't recognize it."

She kneels down and inspects one of the bodies, stripping off the armor where it's in the way.

"Poison, I think."

She looks at the lockbox, chews her lip, and then glances at the soldiers again to double-check whether they were still wearing gauntlets when they died.

No gauntlets! One has a bloody hand full of broken glass.

"Contact poison, you think? Maybe if we could get the box open without touching it?"

"Maybe. We've got gloves. From the flasks I'd almost guess they drank it but that doesn't make much sense. But I guess if we get that thing open and it's full of vials we should not assume they're elfroot potions."

"Noted. Here goes nothing, then."

She tries opening the box, gauntlets on.

The box opens without a hitch. Within is a neat stack of parchment.

"That was way too easy."

"Yup. First guess is that she wants us to have them."

"Or she thought we all died at Ostagar and wouldn't come looking... no, you're right, she wants us - you - to have them. Uhm."

"Yeah." She bites her lip again. "But if she's behind the blight, why offer us a tool to defeat it? You don't need to lure people into a trap if you have a blight on your side. What's she gain, playing both sides?"

"My best guess is that the Blight is the world's biggest distraction, but that sounds really reckless even for her. Um - unless you have some compelling reason not to we should probably grab the scrolls and run before she or the darkspawn get back, try to puzzle out what she could be up to somewhere safer?"

"Agreed." 

She takes the scrolls and leaves.

When their party is out of sight of the hut, it occurs to her to ask where exactly they're going.

"Uh, west. We should probably swing north at some point but the horde's northeast of us now and I think we should put some more distance between us and them first. Then cut through the hinterlands and head to the highway?"

"Makes sense. If we can get ahead of the horde I guess we can make it to Lothering and regroup. You know the area better than us; lead the way."

The going gets faster once they exit the wilds. The hinterlands are hilly but not marshy, and Malak seems to know the way. It's three days travel at a grueling pace before they reach the highway.

"West to redcliffe, east to Lothering. I don't know what pace the horde's making but they might have beat us there, they've had the highway this whole time."

"We'll feel them before they see us if they are. Perks of the trade. Lothering should be closer from here, best to warn them of what's coming if nobody else has. Even if we lose a couple days. Especially since we're not doing great in the equipment department."

They run into a Mabari dog on the way. Aria recognizes it and it seems to recognize her, and the animal follows them the rest of the way to town, apparently content to consider itself a member of the party.

Going towards the darkspawn horde does not seem like the best choice ever, but she's not the grey warden here and doesn't want to go running off on her own again with Felandris up to something. And they do need supplies and equipment.

They're able to avoid darkspawn, though this does require occasional announcements from Aria that they're leaving the highway for a while to pass by a group of them. It takes another four very full days of walking to reach Lothering. They arrive very tired and very hungry, but alive. 

"Looks like the town up there. Doesn't look like anything's wrecked it yet. We should split up, see how much we can get done before nightfall. Someone's gotta warn the chantry, that's probably the place to go to see who can help organize an evacuation. And someone's gotta figure out how to buy food and proper camping gear and possibly better armor and stabby things. And someone has to find a place to stay, I am way too tired to sleep outside again. Anybody have a preference?"

"I have some coin. I can get us supplies."