Legend (Dragon Age Origins)

Chapter 29: Haven

The village of Haven lay inauspiciously at the base of the mountain range, barely visible beyond the crest of the hills before it. A Chantry built of wood and stone rested atop the largest incline, a light layer of snow covering the thatched rooftop. A series of lanterns were attached to the fenceline that led the way to the Chantry door, their small flame useful for the darkness that the low-hanging rain clouds had brought.

A man dressed in a full suit of silver armour stood at the end of their path, scowling down at them as they climbed toward the village. Dru pushed her way to the head of the group as the man stormed down to greet them.

"What are you doing in Haven?" He growled, his voice deep and coarse. Beneath his helmet, his dark eyes scanned the group before him.

"We have business here," Dru replied as curtly as she could.

He shook his head. "No, you do not. I would have been informed if someone was expecting a visitor."

"We're looking for a man named Brother Genitivi," Wynne chimed in. "He's left some notes for us indicating that he was heading to this location."

"I don't know anyone by that name, but perhaps Revered Father Eirik will know of whom you speak."

"Great, I'll go find him." Dru went to move past him but the guard quickly stepped into her path.

"The Revered Father is busy ministering to the villagers at the moment and cannot be disturbed. You'll have to return later tonight if you wish to meet with him."

"Revered Father?" Leliana repeated. "I've never heard of there being one."

"It's always been that way in Haven," the man snapped, offended by her tone. "We do not question tradition, and our ways prove superior to those of the low-land cities." He paused, and Dru could see his eyes darting to the daggers that rested just below her shoulders. "You may trade at the local shop if you wish, but then I suggest you leave immediately. The people here aren't... accustomed to strangers poking around."

"Thank you for your help," Dru replied dryly.

She gestured to the others and waited for them to pass before trailing behind. The clouds above were definitely growing thicker, and she felt worried that they may be caught up in a potential snowstorm. There were only a few houses on this side of the village, and the sound of singing could be heard wafting down from the Chantry above.

Zevran stretched out his arms and took in a long, deep breath. "Ahh, quiet insolent communities, there's always something nasty going on behind closed doors. I hope it involves chains... I hope they ask me to join in."

"There's definitely something going on here," Alistair agreed. "And don't you think it's a little too quiet? Surely the entire village isn't up there at the Chantry. Every town needs at least one sinner, right?"

"Perhaps they saw you and did not wish to deal with such idiocy," Morrigan muttered. "Ah, look, that child by the pier... Perhaps he may know something?"

Dru followed her gaze to the small lake that rested behind a squat of houses. There indeed was a young boy perched at the end of a broken pier, the only other person who was still around. He appeared to be thrusting a large wooden stick into the murky water.

"Good idea," Dru said as she turned to the others. "You lot go to the shop and see what you can find out, Morrigan and I will talk to the boy."

Morrigan wrinkled her nose. "I was not suggesting that I should be the one to speak with him."

"You're right, looking like that you'll just give him nightmares," Alistair shot back, seizing the opportunity to make a retaliatory jab.

Ignoring her muttered protests, Dru took Morrigan's hand and dragged her along to the lake. As they grew closer, Dru realised that the stick the boy wielded was actually a silver claymore. The boy gripped it with both hands and was swirling it around, as if he were trying to wash something from the blade.