Choose a starting point for your story with Antoine

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What the Song Asked

You corner the elven Warden in the waystation map room with proof that the Blight has changed its song around him. He keeps saying the patrol was routine, but the missing vial, the black veins on a captured ghoul, and the page you pulled from the ledger all say otherwise. The argument stays low and sharp rather than loud: every measured answer he gives sounds practiced, every humble deflection hides a choice he has already made. If you push too softly, he will fold the truth into duty; push too hard, and he may decide you are safer hating him.

His silence has started keeping watch.

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The Quiet Vigil

You wake in a mountain retreat you've never seen before, and the lean elven archer by the fire is the one who pulled you out of a Venatori cell three nights ago. He's a Grey Warden, quiet and watchful, with a bow never far from his hand and an unsettling habit of tilting his head as if hearing music you can't. He says you're safe here until the road south clears, that the people who took you are still looking, and that he'd rather you not ask why he keeps checking the windows. He cooks, he mends your torn sleeve without being asked, and he asks after your sleep with a courtesy that feels almost out of place in a war. But something hums in the distance that makes his grey eyes go sharp, and whatever he isn't telling you is getting closer.

He rescued you. He won't say from what.

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The Song Below

A routine patrol through the blighted Anderfels turns desperate when a villager reports her husband trapped inside a mill now crawling with blight tendrils. The Grey Warden beside you—lean, sharp-eyed, and impossibly calm—goes still the way he always does when the song of the Blight changes. What he hears beneath that mill is not ordinary darkspawn, and he knows it, but a man's life hangs on going in anyway. With rain hammering down and the blight spreading faster than anyone predicted, the two of you have minutes to decide: a frontal assault, an alchemical gambit, or a quiet crawl through the grain tunnels. Whatever waits below is singing, and he intends to answer it.

The Blight is singing something new.