Dragon Age: Origins | The story behind Cousland

Chapter 21- The Urn of the Sacred Ashes

Chapter 21- The Urn of the Sacred Ashes

"I bid you welcome, pilgrim." The spirit speaks.

"Who are you?" I ask the spirit.

"I am the Guardian of the Urn. It has been my duty, my life, to protect the Urn and prepare the way for the faithful who come to revere Andraste. For years beyond counting have I been here, and shall I remain until my task is done and the Imperium has crumbled into the sea."

"What can you tell me about the Urn?"

"You already know that the Urn contains the remains of the prophet Andraste."

Oghren coughs and takes a big sip out of the ale that he has on him. "This mountain has veins of lyrium running all through it. Can't mistake that tingle... It's so strong I can just about smell it." He mumbles.

"You have come to honor Andraste, and you shall, if you prove yourself worthy."

I raise my eyebrows. "So I have to fight you?"

He shakes his head. "It is not my place to decide your worthiness. The Gauntlet does that. If you are found worthy, you will see the Urn and be allowed to take a small pinch of the Ashes for yourself. If not..." He lets the words hang in the air. "You will undergo four tests of faith, and we shall see how your soul fares."

"Very well, I will enter the Gauntlet."

"Before you go, there is something I must ask. I see that the path that led you here was not easy. There is suffering in your past—your suffering, and the suffering of others." The Guarding looks straight into my eyes. "You abandoned your father and mother, leaving them in the hands of Rendon Howe, knowing he would show no mercy." I feel the pool of tears in my eyes and I try to blink them away, but instead they slowly crawl down my cheeks. "

"H-how do you know of my past?" I ask him, raising my chin.

"Your path is laid out before me and plain to see—in the lines of your face and the scars on your heart. Do you believe you failed your parents?" He asks me and I grit my teeth, looking down.

I raise my chin again, looking into his eyes. "Yes. Is that what you want to hear? I should have defended them to the death." I say and angrily wipe my tears away.

"Thank you. That is all I wished to know." Alistair grabs my hand and looks into my eyes. I smile at him and pat him on the shoulder. "What of those that follow you? Alistair, knight and Warden..." He tightens the hold on my hand, "... you wonder if things would have been different if you were with Duncan on the battlefield. You could have shielded him from the killing blow. You wonder, don't you, if you should have died, and not him?" This time, I tighten my grip and bite my upper lip.

"I... yes. If Duncan had been saved, and not me, everything would've been better. If I'd just had the chance, maybe..." I put my head on Alistair's shoulder.

He now looks at Oghren. "Ah, the dwarf. You left your home and came to the surface, knowing that—"

"Why don't I save you some time? Yes, I wish I could have saved my family from Branka. I wish I'd been a better mate; maybe she'd have stayed home with a bellyful of baby Oghren and never gone for the Anvil. Maybe I failed her. And yes, I came to the surface because I'm barley a dwarf anymore. My family is dead, my honor as a warrior long gone. I've lost my caste and my house and I have nothing else to lose."