Humans too exist in this new world, which will be henceforth referred to as Thedas. The first group I encountered, and which the Dalish handed me off to, belonged to an organization known as the Templar Order. They in turn serve a religious group known as the Chantry, which is the predominant human faith of the world. The Chantry and the Templar Order mirrors our own Church of the Light and the Knights of the Silver Hand in many ways. They provide a unified mythos for mankind. The Chantry and Church are the spiritual guides while the Templars and Knights serve as its militant arm. The similarities are disconcerting and one wonders if they perhaps shared a single origin…

From the Journal of Eratus Riverwood

“Why have you come here and what do you want with me?” I said, keeping my sword ready to strike. “I know you have been watching me for some time now.”

It didn’t seem to intimidate her at all. She kept a rigid, straight posture like how a noble would regard someone beneath their station. Yet, it was the small things about her. The hair-shaped like horns, the eerie yellow eyes, the clawed hands. They all made my instincts scream one word. Predator.

Her eyes were focused on me, regarding every aspect of my being. Then she turned, looking at the carnage and corpses around us.

“A few days ago, I felt a disturbance in the forest,” she said. “When I arrived, I spotted but a mere human man.”

She stepped towards the corpse of the female mage and kneeled. She cupped her face, and her eyes drooped, just for a moment, as if she was feeling sorrow.

“My curiosity unsated, I chose to observe him, and was rewarded. He acted like no other human I observed in captivity, spoke the ancient elven tongue, and even risked his life for the children of the Dales. In doing so, he defeated some of the forest’s most dangerous predators and even vanquished a demon of the fade.”

Flemeth let go and stood back up, turning towards me. “Who is this seemingly ordinary human to accomplish such feats? Or is it human at all? A spirit perhaps? Or maybe even a demon?”

“None,” I replied. “I’m just an ordinary man trying to find his way home.”

“Oh?” she said. “And where is home for you?”

“None of your concern.”

Flemeth laughed. “An ordinary man who speaks the ancient tongue and wields a blade forged of a metal never before seen. One who can banish demons, and does not cower in the presence of apostates or templars. Let alone knows what either one is. My, my, you must be quite far from home.”

I wasn’t so amused with her antics. “You came here, you saw things, now begone.”

She smirked. “So, demanding for one in no position to make any demands.”

I mouthed to Del. “Can you get me her stats?”

“I am not within physical proximity.”

“And I sense another among us,” she said. “One that no one else can see nor hear. Yet this ordinary man clearly demonstrates he can.”

I said nothing. Flemeth smiled. I let light flow out from through my free arm into a wisp. I didn’t have much energy left, but I hoped the sight would scare her off.

She laughed, more of a cackle this time. “You don’t have to resort to parlor tricks towards me. I have met your kind once before. I do not come to mean you any harm, for now.”

“You… have?” I asked, still keeping my guard up. “You have a met a paladin or a priest before?”

“Not by that name, but I have. Once,” she replied, taking a step forward. “A long time ago, but the power you wield is not one that is easily forgotten.”

“Proximity reached… Scanning… Entity: Amalgamation… Str: 50, Sta: 53, Agi: 57, Spr: 59, Int: 60. This entity is superior to you on all scales. A confrontation would not be favorable.”

The Lorekeeper only confirmed what my instincts were telling me. I lowered my sword but kept light channeling into the invisible barrier.

“So tell me,” Flemeth crossed her arms. “Where are you planning to go now?”

“Denerim.”

“And is that home for you?” she asked.

“No, but it seems safer there than out here.”

Flemeth cackled. “True, true. Your kind have always sought the company of your own.”

“And what about you?” I asked.

“My curiosity is sated, for now. Yet your appearance here, it makes me wonder… is it by fate or by chance?”

She shook her head. “I can never decide,” she said. “But it appears fortune may still favor you today. I may be able to help you on your journey.”

The way she talked reminded me of the arcane practitioners that I ran into when I arrived at Southshore port. Self-styled seers who lived in the fringes of society, speaking of outlandish claims of predicting the future. All were usually old, crazy, or both. Most were harmless, but this wasn’t Southshore, and she certainly wasn’t just another sentimental coot.

“Why?” I asked.

“I have done so once before,” she said. “The result proved favorable then so I would assume the same for now.”

Her offer raised a lot of alarms in my head. My thoughts spun toward tales of cryptic horrors or malicious beasts that played with adventurers like a cat would play with a mouse. I very much felt like the mouse in the tale.

“And what are you expecting in return?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “Simply your gratitude and willingness to entertain future favors. If of course you are free to do so.”

I had a hard time believing that, but I felt a denial would not end well for me.

“And what kind of help are you offering?”

“Simply some helpful words.”

She was treating this like some sort of game. But more information was good, and I could always choose to discard it if needed.

“Okay,” I said, and lowered my blade. However, I kept my distance and drew another barrier seal with my free arm behind my back. “I’m listening.”

“Good. The city you’re going to possesses many secrets, two that pertain to your goals. There is an old chamber which will arm you with the tools that you need. Find the Maker’s bride in her house, and she will lead the way. What you ultimately desire and what shall return you whence you came, will be in the vaults of the magisters of old. Be wary though, for they were vain men, and were quite protective of their treasures.”

“A riddle,” I said. “I don’t mean to complain but couldn’t you tell me something a bit… clearer?”

“Ah, but where is the fun in that?” she said. “Don’t prove that I overestimated your intellect. And do be weary of conjuring your powers here. As you may already know, the folk of this world aren’t so welcoming of such displays.”

She turned and walked away. “I have provided what I can. The rest I leave to you. Now I must be off for there are other matters to tend to.”

A sphere of light flashed around her. It wasn’t holy energy; I would have been able to sense it. Her figure morphed once more. It grew, larger and larger. The spiked shape of her hair morphed into actual horns. Wings grew out of her back, and she went down on all fours. A spiked tail broached out, sweeping leaves away.

Flemeth took off into the air, disappearing beyond the canopy and out of sight.

“And after reciting her riddle the shapeshifter left us for parts unknown…”

I marked the entry with a flick of the quill pen. I was grateful to have recovered it. Alamere had gifted me it a year ago. There was some arcane mechanism that kept the tip coated permanently in ink.

“Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood. Why do you archive your thoughts on a physical medium?”

I closed the journal, and put away my pen.

“In short, Del, it is because I am supposed to. I am my team’s scribe, and it is my duty to mark things down as they occur. In the event I am captured or killed… the journal will serve as a written ledger of what happened.”

It was mouthful to think or even say Lorekeeper Deldarron every time I wanted to speak with the automaton so I shortened it down to Del. It didn’t seem to mind.

It was also only partially the truth. Writing kept me calm. It isn’t every day that you find yourself with an ancient device talking in your head, get tossed into a new world, fight giant spiders, be poisoned, imprisoned, fight an unholy abomination, then talk to a shapeshifting dragon-owl-witch that gave you a riddle and disappeared into the sky.

Among other things that kept me sane, was that I just had a healthy diet of meat. Thin bones were piled up next to my campfire. I couldn’t remember the last time I had actual meat. I was at first hesitant about how fish was in this new world, but it tasted fine. Far better than Alamere’s sand biscuit or elven grass soup.

I had also taken a bath in the nearby river. The water was damn cold but the heat of the afternoon sun quickly dried it off. My wet clothes hung on a tree branch in the light of the sun.

But by and large, I was calm because for the first time since entering this brave new world, I had my guard down. We were a couple miles or two from the battle that unfolded earlier. I was sitting atop a bed of grass and bathed in the afternoon sunlight. It felt good against the sores around my neck, wrists, and ankles. A breeze rustled the trees and swept across my skin in refreshment. Birds chirped in the sky, somewhere. There was water splashing against the rocks as it streamed down the river.

I was hesitant about relaxing at first. Since I got to this new world, it was an endless stream of fight after fight after fight. Fortunately, Del was able to sense hostility from any living creature in the distance. An ability I found most useful, and if something did come to disrupt my peace, then well, Captain Falmore’s sword was an arm’s reach away.

Despite everything, it surprised me how… normal everything was here. There was a knight who served with General Turalyon when they ventured into the dark portal to take the war to the orcish homeland. Apparently, they passed by several worlds on their journey. One where lava and hellfire were as plentiful as oceans and lakes, others that were frozen wastelands, and a few that he said were “completely indescribable but also unforgettable.” He had been there not once but twice, among the lucky few to make it back home before the portal closed for good.

I guess I should be happy that there wasn’t anything too crazy here. It was actually somewhat peaceful, here on this hillside. Just me, the donkey, and well… Del.

There were hundreds of other questions in my mind. Flemeth’s advice was chief among them, assuming she wasn’t just playing me into a trap or fooling around with me. A Maker’s bride and ancient magister? Whatever those meant. I’ll have to reference the riddle later once I arrived in Denerim proper.

There was the matter of that abomination the mage turned into. I knew orc warlocks reanimating the dead and of fel demons wearing human skin but I had never seen something like that. Was that why this templar order existed? To keep such things at bay?

It was time to get going. There would be time to think about that on the road. My clothes, hanging from the branch looked dry enough now.

“Is a scribe similar in function to a Lorekeeper?”

“Well, a scribe just writes things down,” I said. “I’m not too sure what a Lorekeeper is supposed to do.”

“A Lorekeeper holds a repository of significant events.”

I didn’t mention to Del that he seemed to be lacking in that particular faculty.

“I guess they are the same then.”

“I will record this in my memory banks. What is to be our next move?”

“Well, first,” I said, putting on my pants. “We need to put as much distance as we can between ourselves and that mess back there.”

After Flemeth left, I went around to see if I could save anyone. At least Nelson, the kid seemed like he had a good heart, and it would have been helpful to have the gratitude of another human. None survived, not enough light-powered abilities would have healed their injuries.

It was only a matter of time before someone noticed that a group of templars were missing. Best to be as far away as possible before that happened.

“And we go to Denerim,” I said, putting on my shirt.

“I must question the wisdom in approaching a location densely populated with historically hostile lifeforms, or listening to the advice of unknown lifeforms without any context.”

“Well I don’t know about you, but I don’t have any better idea,” I reproached, putting on my pants.

“Understood. Have you made any determination as to the locations that the lifeform labeled Flemeth has described?”

“Nope,” I said, strapping my belt around my waist. “Maybe it will all make sense once I get there.”

I hoped. Another reason I wanted to go to Denerim that I did not disclose to Del was that if there are men in the world, then so too did alcohol. I wasn’t one to drown myself in drink but I could certainly use some now. A city seemed like the best place to find it.

“Acknowledged. Location Denerim serves as potential knowledge repository to locate return portal. We are in consensus.”

“Er… yea.” I shoved my boots on and moved toward the donkey, who was tied to a tree by the riverside, munching on the grass.

I pulled off all the sacks, holding the loot I had taken from the bodies, which was everything minus the armor and swords. Light knows I could have used either but they were too conspicuous. I had a feeling the emblazoned sword on the breastplates and patterned hilts would only draw suspicion.

I dumped the goods onto the dirt and began to look through, separating anything useful from anything that looked like deadweight. After chafing through I was left with a map of the local area, my mana gauge, several rolls of cloth which I could use as bandages, water skins, some metal tools, the rock disc Del was stored in, and several glass flasks that held a glowing blue substance. Each of the templars had one in-person. Del said that the substance was “emitting high energy” so I kept it. Who knew when it would be useful?

Everything else was dumped into a hole that I covered with dirt.

There were also two hearthstones. Unluckily for me they were a pair, the same ones I used to transmit the message about the orc band to the main encampment. Otherwise I would have tried to send a message back home.

Still I kept them, as a memento if nothing more.

I clapped my mana gauge back onto my wrist. The blue bar flared for a moment then settled at 50%. All the other goods were tossed into a leather backpack that I took from the hut. It wasn’t technically stealing since the man who owned it was already dead. I doubt he would miss it from whatever afterlife he went to.

I did however note that my officer’s knife was missing. My guess was that an enterprising Dalish elf took it. Thieving bastards. Not much I could do about it now though.

I put on the backpack and bolted Captain Falmore’s sword to my belt. After which, I walked over to the donkey, and unfastened the rope tying him to a tree.

I pet his mane and looked into his eyes. “This is where we part ways. Stay safe out there.”

The donkey honked, in what I thought to be agreement. Some days, I wondered what it would like to be able to talk to animals like a hunter. Bluebeard always claimed to be able to talk to his hawk, although all we ever heard were squawks and caws.

I nodded at the animal and walked up the hill, leaving it by the riverbank. We hit the dirt road that was on the map, and followed it towards Denerim.

The following days dragged on. My focus was on walking, watching for treacherous terrain, and figuring out where to set up camp. By nightfall, I was too exhausted after foraging for dinner to think of anything else and pass out. Del kept watch and would wake me up if anything needed my attention.

Over time however, I grew used to it, and the forest began to thin which made the trek easier. All of which allowed me to ponder some of the questions that I had tucked away earlier.

“So, you kept screaming about corruption when we met that… thing,” I asked Del. “I’m guessing that means they are bad right?”

“Yes, corrupted organisms are the antithesis of the creators.”

“The creators being the Titans?”

“Correct.”

“And do corrupted organisms exist on Azeroth?”

“Yes, but they are safely contained. All such entities have been shackled 100,000 cycles ago and secured in storage facilities for containment and study as removal posed a danger to the planet’s life systems.”

“But you mentioned earlier that you detected corruption within… acceptable levels?”

“Yes. Flesh is conducive to corruption. However, it does make one a corruptive entity. Defense mechanisms exist to purge the planet if a containment breach is detected.”

I didn’t want to know the specifics behind how a purge would be undertaken, but if it was true that meant whatever I faced back there was not the fel demons like Infernals. Luckily they were still weak to light energy.

“Also, uh… when you scanned me, you mentioned I had an affinity of some sort.”

“Correct. Aptitude for cosmic forces.”

“Yes that. Could you explain that?”

“All Titan-founded organisms are imbued with aptitude to specific cosmic forces to ensure they can perform their functions as designed.”

“Er… right. Could you explain what cosmic forces there are?”

“Retrieving data…”

“Order, Aptitude of Norgannan, volatile and requires high precision and focus. Life, Aptitude of Eonar, burgeons and requires balance and optimism. Soul, Aptitude of Aggramar, intense and requires concentration and will. Earth, Aptitude of…”

“Wait, wait, wait, that is too much.”

“Complying…”

“Back to the beginning. Could you tell me which cosmic force that you found I had aptitude for?”

“Retrieving information… Data incomplete”

“Incomplete?

“Memory Banks do not possess full description. I retrieved a single word. Naaru.”

“Naaru? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Unknown. It will most likely be accessible at the mainframe.”

From the small glimmer that Del mentioned, the so-called cosmic forces that he talked about sounded like affinities. Everyone in Azeroth was born with one and were classed accordingly. Those with light cores could become priests or paladins. Those with arcane cores could become mages. The same went for warriors, hunters, rogues. They were hereditary too, which made it all too easy to detect infidelity. I remember a bit of camp gossip of a soldier’s wife who gave birth to a future mage when neither him nor his wife was one.

“Anyway, you mentioned that one of the stats… Er… intelligence measured your ability to wield cosmic forces. The elves had “0” and the templars had really low numbers.”

“Correct. Low intelligence designates organism as incapable of wielding cosmic forces. This is an anomaly that requires further analysis.”

“Further analysis? Why?”

“All lifeforms, if not imbued with a cosmic force are assigned one arbitrarily. This is a naturally occurring phenomenon. Examples for titan-forged. Arcanite constructs imbued with Order. Warrior constructs imbued with Soul. Thus far, only a select few lifeforms possess cosmic force ‘Order’ while others lack one entirely. Such an existence must have been artificially instigated.”

That was odd. Some people had multiple, but everybody possessed at least one. There were no exceptions, ever.

Yet so far, Del was correct. If “Order” as Del called it was what mages possessed then that was all I had seen. None of the templars were able to channel rage in a way that a warrior like Captain Falmore was able to or wield light like myself. None of the elves seemed to have hunter companions like Bluebeard’s hawk or disappear from sight like Singlepipe.

I took a look the mana gauge. 60%. Natural regeneration was never that slow. My eyes occasionally wandered the forest, looking for any sign of familiar herbs like Silverleaf or Mageroyal without any luck. Both were known to help energy regeneration.

That reminded me, and I suddenly became aware of a spongy mass on the side of my belt. I reached a hand into the offending pouch and pulled out the black stalks. Ghost Mushrooms, the ones I snipped out from the tunnels. Looks like the Dalish and Templars hadn’t found those.

“Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood, I can sense elevated tension. Is everything well?”

“Yea, just…”

They were going to be a present to Aunt Tiana. How long had I been gone for? Long enough, for the Alliance to have attempted a rescue and come up short.

I could already imagine what was happening, and it probably already happened. My belongings would be sealed and encased. Captain Falmore would return with them and journey to Northshire. Alliance protocol for fallen officers was their immediate superior was to notify their families. He would be carrying a blue and red flag, a sign of a mourning courier. Everyone in Northshire would see him approach, wondering which family lost another one of their own that day. The mount would pass by houses, towards a little one sitting atop a hill. Aunt Tiana would step out, wondering who was approaching…

The mushrooms went back into the pouch, and I focused on the road ahead. I had to get home and make things right.