sanguinifex | A Detailed Report, With Illustrations

Originally posted to AO3 on 7/14/2016

It started, of course, as part of his report for the Arishok, which he was determined to finish even if he was probably going to be killed on sight if he made it back to Par Vollen. One can’t exactly give a comprehensive report on the Blight without showing what a genlock looks like, or how it’s different than a hurlock. So after battles, Sten would take his inksticks and a little water to activate them, and draw pictures of darkspawn corpses.

It was certainly worth putting in his report, though, just who were these basra who were fighting the Blight—the two “Grey Wardens,” the other two bas saarebas, the malodorous dwarf who (despite his utter lack of discipline) was admittedly quite a warrior, the “golem” who was also some kind of magically altered dwarf (this was shaping up to be a very good report indeed), and the reformed elven tallis (“Crow Assassin,” Sten reminded himself). So Sten drew them, too, first portraits, then in action (observing military techniques and the training given to bas saarebas)—all in service of the Qun.

And finally, he drew simply because they were his kadans, and he wanted to record every memory of them, to leave something in case the Blight or Loghain or the Deep Roads killed them all. He drew Leliana singing, and transcribed the song underneath (it wasn’t hard, it was already in that book the Dalish had given them). He drew Alistair and Oghren sparring, many times, and below each sketch he made copious notes about improving their forms. (Then, after telling them, he often had to cross out his notes and add more, because he’d thought he was short for a Qunari, but by Koslun, basra were tiny.) More pages had Morrigan and Wynne casting ice spells—“Really, child, focus, you’ll get no depth if you don’t, make the start of the beam smaller, like this”—and oh, how he tried to convey the splendor and terror of magic with mere ink, and nothing quite compared to seeing it. He made Shale pose while holding giant boulders, and, on one occasion, an abandoned cart, to convey the strength of ancient Dwarven artifice, until the “golem” started making pointed comments about him being “squishy.” And he drew the two elves, the Warden bas saarebas and the tallis, who were always together, draped over each other by the campfire, or teaming magic storms and shimmering barriers with blades in battle, and drew with quick penstrokes the bond he could see but not understand between them.

Sten drew the Circle Tower, and the confined but uncollared bas saarebas who had survived the demons, and the templars who were both more and less than Arvaraads; he drew Redcliffe Castle, the ruins of Ostagar, Soldiers’ Peak, and Fort Drakon, and the temples in the Brecilian Forest and Haven; and underground Orzammar, and copied the map the dwarven Arishok-aspirant had given the Wardens, and plotted as best he could with a compass the parts the map did not show.

And then, in the last few days, he drew the movements of the horde, the Orlesian Warden Riordan, and the dread archdemon (well, a rough sketch of it in the air, and then later a much more detailed picture of its body), but he also drew what could not possibly be mistaken for detailed intelligence: Morrigan scowling at yet another pot of stew, Wynne mending everyone’s robes, Oghren braiding his hair for the final battle (“like for a proving,” he’d grunted when asked), Zevran haggling with a merchant for vegetables.

In the end, his official report contained only about half the sketches he’d made that year. It was still four inches thick.