I am Lena Wolf, Lena's life as it happens Options

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Dusk, 3E398 - Grey Wardens

"This discovery weighs heavily upon you," Cassandra sat next to Wolf on a rock overlooking the sea. "This Grey Wardens outpost built over an opening into the Deep Roads... Unmanned since the defeat of the Blight."

"The Wardens here gave their lives to protect the area, but of course they could not stop endless darkspawn armies..." Wolf sighed. "They've done their duty, that's not what weighs on me. It's that I didn't know this outpost even existed."

"Which isn't your fault. The Grey Wardens Order of Ferelden had been disbanded three hundred years ago. You could not have known," Cassandra objected.

"It was my duty to know, especially when Alistair returned from the Head Quarters with disturbing reports of bureaucracy... perhaps corruption even. I did nothing with that. I committed the same crime as those bureaucrats at the HQ. Indifference. Complacency. Navel gazing." Wolf grimaced and spit.

"You are being too hard on yourself," Cassandra shook her head. "No one can accuse you of that."

"I accuse myself, that's enough."

They sat in silence for a while.

"Blackwall is not taking it as hard as you," Cassandra spoke quietly.

"Blackwall is from Orlais. This is Ferelden. This was my responsibility."

"Blackwall is collecting Grey Wardens artefacts," Cassandra noted matter-of-factly. "Banners, heraldry, fake griffin feathers... He is such an obvious Grey Warden, crests all over... While you wear none of that."

"Tastes differ," Wolf shrugged, looking at her sideways. "I represent the Inquisition now, not Grey Wardens, while Blackwall is the Grey Warden with the Inquisition..."

"No, the Grey Warden with the Inquisition is you," Cassandra objected. "Everyone knows that, without any crests."

"What are you saying, Cassandra?" Wolf hushed his voice even though Blackwall was well out of earshot.

"I am not a Grey Warden and cannot sense the taint," Cassandra lowered her voice as well. "But I can see it anyway. Why are you allowing him to continue this charade?"

"Blackwall is a conscript," Wolf answered slowly, weighing how much to tell her. "It isn't his real name. It was the name of the Grey Warden who conscripted him but died before Blackwall could undergo the Joining. He told me all that."

"And how can you be sure he didn't kill the real Warden himself?" Cassandra squinted.

"To what end?" Wolf shrugged. "I see no reason. Even if Blackwall is hiding from something under that assumed identity, he would have been better off as an actual Grey Warden... No, I think he told the truth. I let him be my conscript for now."

"Do you plan to put him through the Joining?"

"Eventually," Wolf nodded. "But I am in no position to do it now. Especially since what we discovered today."

"About Alistair?" Cassandra didn't want to approach that topic at first, but this seemed like a good opening.

"Exactly," Wolf nodded. "Those two Wardens we met... I don't know them, they look green - must be new recruits. Did you hear what they said?" He looked at Cassandra and she nodded. "That they had orders from their Warden-Commander to arrest Alistair for treason... Alistair!!" Wolf flared his nostrils with anger. "Oh, I know who the traitor is, and it's not he!"

"They were quick to replace you with a new Warden-Commander," Cassandra said softly.

"I'm not worried about that, it was to be expected," Wolf shrugged. "I am not surprised even they didn't pick Alistair for the position because he never wanted to be in command. But this new person... if those are the kind of orders he gives... that's bad business."

"What are you going to do?" Cassandra held her breath.

"Find Alistair," Wolf said quietly. "Find Anders, Oghren, and others of the old guard. Alistair first though, he'll tell us what's been going on. Then find Anders..."

"The mage who blew up the Chantry in Kirkwall was named Anders," Cassandra said in a neutral tone, but the tension in her voice was palpable. "Why are you protecting him?"

"It's not the same Anders," Wolf smiled. "Anders isn't a name - it's where he's from, that is Anderfells. And yes, a lot of them are blond, and some of them are mages... But I guarantee you it isn't the same person."

"He claimed to be from the Ferelden Circle of Magi though," Cassandra squinted. "And that he was a Grey Warden."

"I have no answer to that, Cassandra, I never met him," Wolf shook his head. "But it wasn't our Anders. It sounds like someone's been using his identity for some reason..."

"He was a healer in Kirkwall first," Cassandra continued. "Then he vanished for a while, then reappeared, but never resumed his practice... People thought he looked a bit different too, but then, people do change with time."

"Our Anders was a healer in Kirkwall, that's where I found him," Wolf nodded. "Then... well... I might as well tell you... He, I, Varric and Hawke went on an expedition into the Deep Roads organised by Varric's brother Bartrand. We found red lyrium there. It got into Bartrand's head and he locked us out in the Deep Roads to die. We got captured by darkspawn. I managed to send word to the Wardens who came to our rescue. Neither Anders nor I ever returned to Kirkwall after that. So whoever blew up the Chantry there several years later, wasn't our Anders."

"So Varric knew you all along!!" Cassandra nearly jumped up, but steadied herself. "The liar!!!"

"Well, you never asked him about me, have you?" Wolf steadied her. "He lied by omission. He didn't tell lies."

"It's just as bad!" Cassandra's anger was still flaring.

"Your usual interrogation techniques don't work on the likes of Varric," Wolf tried to speak calmly. "The same as they didn't work on me. Instead of bringing him in in chains, you would have been better off inviting him to dinner. Although whether he would have told you more, I am not certain... Varric is very loyal to those he considers friends, and the Chantry isn't one of them."

"You never told me you knew Varric and Hawke either!!" Cassandra turned her anger on Wolf.

"And you never asked me," Wolf smiled. "Like you never asked my name until much later, Seeker." He paused, waiting for Cassandra to cool off. "I am surprised that Leliana didn't tell you who I was the moment she saw me."

"She didn't look at you too closely... Your appearance changed a bit since she last saw you..." Cassandra calmed down. "She blamed herself later for not taking the time to look..."

"Tell her it's fine... we didn't get on back then... but none of it matters now," Wolf dismissed the topic. "It's ten years on, the Blight has been defeated but darkspawn has not. Grey Wardens must stand up to it... but instead, they are declaring Alistair a traitor! That doesn't bode well."

"One day I hope you will tell me who you really are," Cassandra spoke softly. "I know you are not from the Free Marches..."

"One day..." Wolf smiled.

...

"Alistair!" Wolf, Hawke, Varric, Cassandra and Dorian walked into a cave where Alistair was hiding.

"Wolf," Alistair grinned. "And company," he bowed to the others curtly.

"I hear you've been declared a traitor," Wolf went straight to the heart of the matter.

"It's bad business, Wolf," Alistair shook his head. "We've been sold out to Orlais."

"Again?!"

"Well, not the kingdom of Ferelden, just the Wardens," Alistair nodded. "The Queen doesn't interfere in Wardens affairs of course, but the Head Quarters apparently decided that the Ferelden chapter was too small to be... err... economically viable... Yes, I think that was the phrase. So they took your... err... engagement with the Inquisition as the perfect excuse to dissolve the Ferelden chapter altogether and bring us under the Orlaisian one that is led by Warden-Commander Clarel. And she... there's only one way to put it... she's building a demon army."

"Blood magic?"

"With demon binding."

"That's bad."

"That's not all," Alistair sighed. "They are being led by a Tevinter Magister..."

"...who serves everyone's favourite darkspawn lord, no doubt," Wolf guessed.

"I think so."

"What else?"

"Don't you feel it?" Alistair squinted. "I guess your mark shuts it off... lucky you," he smirked. "We're all hearing the Call of the Black City. Even the youngest recruits. So Clarel panicked."

"Why is she after you?"

"Because I protested. Called out her madness..." Alistair sighed. "I've been on the run, but I've also been watching them. I am alright; but the others... I don't know..."

"Anders?" Wolf paled.

"He protested. They took him. Clarel is an incredible mage. Anders cursed, something about being back in the Circle Tower without justice..." Alistair looked away. "I am sorry that I ever doubted him. He is not that kind of a blood mage."

"No, he's got a head on his shoulders," Wolf nodded. "And may be he doesn't hear the Call... or not quite as much. How bad is it?"

"Bad," Alistair shook his head. "It's like a song that you cannot get out of your head. It calls us to die."

"You must stop this," Dorian stepped forward. "I think I know the ritual they are using... well, I know of it," he corrected himself. "It takes a life of a person to bind a demon... a life of another Warden, I presume. And you have to wonder where the demons are coming from. Who commands them? I bet those are no random demons..."

"What are you saying, Dorian?" Wolf and Alistair looked very worried.

"If those demons answer to our darkspawn lord... well... then so do the Wardens. The binding goes both ways."

Everyone held their breath at that revelation.

"Has Clarel gone truly mad?!" Wolf exclaimed in anger. "That she cannot resist the Call? Does the Call tell her to turn to demon binding?!"

"The Call doesn't have a message," Alistair said calmly. "The Call is just a song... it drives us into the Deep Roads... well, you know. The point here is why she is doing it. She believes that once she has a demon army bound to the Wardens, she'll take them to the Deep Roads in search of the Old Gods the same way as darkspawn do it... Only she intends to kill every last Old God so that there would be no more Blights ever. In her mind, she is doing her duty and saving the world..."

"I understand now what old Wardens mean when they say that the Call drives them into insanity..." Wolf said softly.

He paced around the cave. Everyone took a step back, waiting for his decision. He stopped before Alistair.

"It's up to us again, Alistair," he said in a reasonably calm tone. "You and me against the Blight."

"By your lead, Warden-Commander," Alistair smiled.

"You will need my help," Dorian stepped forward. "Because I am from Tevinter."

"Another blood mage?" Alistair raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you know my little problem..." Wolf winked and Alistair rolled his eyes. "Dorian is a mage from Tevinter. That is all."

"And don't even think about going without me," Cassandra stepped forward. "You need a templar."

"Hey, I'm the templar!" Alistair protested.

"The more the merrier," Wolf grinned. "You can have a demon each, there's no need to quarrel."

"That darkspawn lord is my fault, I tracked down his prison, thus facilitating his release," Varric stepped forward. "So I'm with you as well. Bianca is excited."

"But I don't have a death wish," Hawke shook his head. "I am no Grey Warden, I am not with the Inquisition, there's no reason why I should join you. So I'm leaving." He turned around and walked towards the exit.

"Err... well... thanks for your help finding Alistair," Wolf said after him. "You never wanted to have anything to do with blood, I remember."

"He just wants you to ask him nicely," Varric smiled, looking affectionately at Hawke walking away.

"Why should I?" Wolf shrugged. "This is Grey Wardens' mess. Hawke never trusted us, and with good reason. I understand and reciprocate the sentiment."

"You don't trust me?!" Hawke spun around and flew at Wolf. "How dare you?!"

"I barely know you," Wolf remained calm. "I heard there was some bad business in Kirkwall, but I had nothing to do with it. Grey Wardens had nothing to do with it."

"Your Anders blew up the Chantry and set it all in motion!!!" Hawke bellowed. "How dare you say you Wardens had nothing to do with it!?"

"Ah, yes, I wondered about that," Wolf nodded and shot a glance at Cassandra who nodded back. "I wondered who would impersonate Grey Warden Anders and why. It seems someone was eager to implicate us in that disaster..."

"It was the same Anders!!" Hawke didn't give up. "I met him, remember? I met him when you were in Kirkwall! I remember you fussing over him like a mother hen all the while in the Deep Roads! Carrying him back to Vigil Keep! And then he returned several years later and blew up the Chantry!"

"Go, Hawke," Wolf faced him, pale as a sheet. "Just go. This is Grey Wardens' business."

Hawke stormed off. Wolf looked at Cassandra, Dorian and Varric and addressed Cassandra.

"Like I said - this is our mess. The Inquisition does not have to get involved. I cannot play Lord Inquisitor here, it is up to you, Cassandra, what the Inquisition will do. Anyone who wishes to join Alistair and me, will walk with Grey Wardens on this. I will understand if you reconsider."

"We should return to Skyhold and speak with the others," Cassandra nodded. "I am still coming with you though, Warden. Don't ask why."

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Nov 7 2024, 02:23 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Dusk, 3E398 - Here lies the abyss

"Absolutely out of the question!" Leliana shook her head and stomped her foot. "The Inquisition will NOT support Grey Wardens! And if you wish to quit, then quit! We should have never made you Lord Inquisitor, I knew it!!"

"I see," Wolf looked at her coldly. Cassandra had just retold the meeting with Alistair for Leliana, Cullen and Josephine. Together they were the Inquisition. "I have no issue quitting. But seeing how you need the mark on my hand to close Fade rifts, I don't see what you will do without me."

"Solas said we could not cut off his hand!" Josephine quickly intervened. "Don't even think it! Like it or not, we need the Warden with us. Although may be not necessarily as Lord Inquisitor."

"Fine..." Leliana glared at them all. "But we will not help him fix up that mess with the Wardens! We should just kill them all!"

"Err... I won't sacrifice our forces for this," Cullen shook his head. "You want to storm the fortress they are in... It's an ancient fortress, and we could raise it to the ground... But there's a contingent of Grey Wardens in it with a small army of demons! If we attack, they'll see us as the enemy, and I don't want every Inquisition soldier dead, because that's what will happen!"

As usual, they could not agree on anything. Wolf shook his head and left. He was going to make his own arrangements.

"I hear you are going to help the Wardens," Blackwall stopped him in the yard. "Take me with you."

"No," Wolf shook his head. "Cassandra figured out you are no Grey Warden, and if she could see it, so can the others. Sit this one out, Blackwall. When this is all over, you'll take the Joining."

"Well... it's not what I wanted to hear, but I understand..." He sighed. "Good luck to you, Commander."

Wolf was going to see the Iron Bull, the head of a mercenary unit working with them, but Cullen barred his way in an empty corridor.

"I said I won't sacrifice our forces and I won't," he started. "But I don't think you were planning a frontal assault. I know you are not afraid of demons... I remember the Circle Tower. But you will now be facing many hostile mages as well as demons - mages controlled by the darkspawn lord. We have templars among our troops. Take them with you."

"That's rather unexpected, Cullen," Wolf smiled. "Thank you. But I don't want our forces dead either."

"What is your plan, Commander?" Cullen spoke in a rather formal tone. "You do have a plan, I hope?"

"I do, Commander," Wolf replied equally formally. "Alistair obtained plans of the Adamant Fortress - it is no great secret among Grey Wardens since the fortress is so old. We've gone through them. There are several side entrances, but the desert has been encroaching on the building. We don't know which entrances will yield, but I am sure we'll find some. Then our first goal will be to find our people - Anders, Oghren and others that protested. They are likely held captive, I do hope Clarel keeps them till last... Then we'll sweep through the fortress and kill every demon and every mage that became possessed through that ritual... They are beyond saving, I have no illusions. They have become abominations," he paused with a sigh, shaking his head. "We'll try to avoid fighting other Wardens... if any of them recognise me, it'll help, I hope... The ultimate goal is to find Clarel. She will die... either by her own hand or by ours, but this madness will stop there."

He stopped talking and looked Cullen in the eye.

"It's a good plan," Cullen nodded and smiled. "I'll have templars follow your progress. As backup. They'll join in when the fighting heats up. They'll answer to you. The rest of us will stay outside and guard all exits. Good luck to you, Commander."

...

The Adamant Fortress stood guard on the Western edge of the civilised world. Beyond it was nothing but an unforgiving desert with sulfurous smoke erupting from the cracks in the earth. This was where darkspawn emerged from the underground, in particular during a Blight. The fortress stood surrounded by sand on all sides.

Wolf, Alistair, Cassandra, Varric and Dorian formed the forward force meant to break through one of the back doors. A group of templars was following them a short distance behind keeping them in view but staying out of the way. More Inquisition troops were positioned further away, almost fading into the hot air rising from the sand.

"This door will yield," Wolf was pushing a heavy wooden door. "Dig it out a bit and let's give it a good push! Again! And again!" The door eventually yielded, opening a crack, and they pried it open fully. It wasn't locked, it was just blocked by sand and debris. It led into a gloomy corridor, seemingly unused for at least a thousand years.

"This corridor leads into the depths," Alistair checked his map. "Into the dungeons, perhaps?"

"It's worth checking," Wolf agreed.

They descended several flights of stairs, took multiple turns... and got lost within five minutes of entering. The corridor was completely dark which didn't help orientation.

"Did anyone bring a lantern?" Wolf asked in a tired voice. "Don't tell me we forgot about lanterns!"

"We did," Dorian spoke from the darkness. "But luckily, you've got me." He produced two small lanterns from his pack. "Cave diving was something I did quite a lot as a boy," he smiled. "You quickly learn to always bring lanterns."

"I expected a magical light, to be honest," Alistair smirked, attaching a lantern to his belt. "But this is better."

The lanterns did help to see where they were going, but they didn't help to know where the corridors led to. Eventually they saw torches up ahead - a clear sign of civilisation. Strong stench of alcoholic breath was another sign.

"Who goes there?" They heard a hoarse voice. "I shall sodding have your heads, you bleeding idiots!!"

They turned a corner and saw a row of cells. Only one cell had an occupant.

"Brainless morons!!" The voice continued to swear. "Lock me up, will you?! I am sodding not giving my blood to no Orlaisian bird!!!"

"Oghren?" Wolf approached the cell. "It must be you, no one swears with quite the same flare."

"Commander!" Oghren was sitting on the floor, empty bottles all around him. "Are you real or have I finally drank myself into delirium?"

"I am quite real," Wolf laughed. "Alistair can confirm it."

Oghren got up rather unsteadily, shook himself like a dog in the rain, then spoke with a lot less slur.

"I drink because it keeps the song away," he explained. "It drives me mad, it does. But I am not giving my blood to summon a demon! That's madness!"

"And so they locked you up," Wolf nodded. "Hang on..." He tried to pick the lock but had to let Varric do it instead. "So. It's too bad you are not armed..."

"I don't need to be," Oghren shook his head. "I'll be armed as soon as we run into trouble," he grinned. "What's the plan?"

"Sweep the dungeons, sweep the fortress, kill Clarel," Wolf summarised. "Do you know who else was taken and where they are?"

"A few others were taken, aye," Oghren nodded. "They didn't put us together, but these dungeons are huge. They mostly were separating mages from warriors... Anders is here somewhere, and a few other lads and lasses... Let's go."

They swept through the dungeons, now using the map and trying to make sure not to miss any passages. They found Anders and a few other Wardens. Next they would come out into the open and need to fight.

"Now we separate," Wolf decided. "Two groups. Cassandra and Anders with me, Varric and Dorian with Alistair. We go left, Alistair goes right, we meet in the middle. If there's a ritual taking place, it'll be there. The rest of you hang back until you have a weapon." He glared at Oghren who was about to protest. "There will be casualties, and I want them as few as possible!" He looked at everyone and they nodded. "Try not to kill your fellow Wardens, but watch for mages that turned... we are too late for them." He paused and everyone remained silent. "Good luck to you all."

They separated. When they turned a corner, Wolf stopped.

"Ready?" He looked at Anders. "You've got no staff."

"I don't need a staff." Anders fingered his dagger. "I'll pick one up along the way. Do you intend to..?"

"Yes," Wolf said and Anders nodded.

"Ready."

"Cassandra," Wolf turned to her. "Your faith in me will be severely tested. I shall answer all your questions when this is over... My intention is unchanged. My methods will shock you."

"I think I know what you mean," Cassandra said quietly. "I've seen the scars on your wrists... But you are not a mage... I don't understand... I guess I'll see it."

"That you will."

...

Fighting on the battlements was ferocious. Too many Warden mages had already been bound to demons, and so both the mages and their demons had to be defeated. Yet a number of Wardens were still unaffected, and they quickly saw sense and stopped fighting.

"They have been performing these rituals for days now," one such Warden told Wolf. "They'd take a mage and a warrior, and have the mage sacrifice the warrior for the ritual. They'd use his blood to summon a demon and bind it to the mage. It was meant to strengthen the mages, and thus the Wardens as a whole, but we can see clearly that the mages lost all free will as a result... They are controlled by that Magister that performed the ritual. So we refuse to be sacrificed, both for our sake and for the mages'... Many mages see it too... And yet they seem to be controlled by him even before the ritual... That's strange..."

"They are probably affected by the Call more than warriors," Anders suggested. "Because mages have a connection to the Fade... isn't it where the Call comes from?"

"Possibly," Wolf agreed. "And I presume you are not affected because..."

"Oh, I'm affected," Anders shook his head. "But probably less than most... because of Justice, yes," he smiled. "I can hear the Call but it doesn't drive me mad."

"That sounds like..." Cassandra started, but then cut herself off. "We can talk later. We still have a lot of demons and abominations to slay."

She kept her comments to herself. Wolf slit his wrists many times using his blood to drive back demons and to paralyse mages, or simply to throw off attackers when he got surrounded. He slit his wrists to lend aid to Anders who also repeatedly slit his. It was blood magic against blood magic. "Dorian must be using necromancy," Wolf thought, watching Cassandra tear through a pack of demons with her templar's mace, then falling back. "That's too many demons even for a Seeker..."

Dorian did use necromancy. Less well known than blood magic, necromancy was still frowned upon and even partially outlawed, akin to blood magic. Dorian started raising corpses when their party got overwhelmed. Alistair was taken aback at first, but then quickly realised that corpses were helping them, not fighting against them. "Well, that makes for a welcome change..." He grinned, watching Dorian raise another corpse. "Unconventional, but hey, so are these demons..." Alistair had come a long way since the days when he wanted to execute every apostate mage without a trial.

Wolf and Alistair reached the middle section almost at the same time. There was a platform there and a large open surface covering the roof of the main keep, mages stood on one side of it, warriors on the other. An altar was erected on the platform, it had blood stains on it. A mage in Tevinter robes was directing a ritual. He called forward one mage and one warrior and directed the mage to slit the warrior's throat. The sacrifice had to be done in person to work. The warrior's bleeding body was put on the altar and the mage made the blood in it boil and rise, which in turn brought forward a demon out of a tear in the Veil. The demon was bound to the mage, and the mage became a slave of the Magister.

Seeing Wolf and Alistair appearing, the Magister interrupted the ritual.

"You are too late, Commander!" He shouted with glee. "My Lord will have his Grey Warden army!" He commanded the mages to raise their hands and they did. "It is not I who commands them, it is My Lord. I merely use the spell He taught me! The taint in their blood - in your blood! - is most convenient! But let us not stop on this account!" He turned to the mages that had not been bound to demons yet. "Who's next?" Several mages stepped forward, their eyes glazed over. "You see? They obey even before the ritual! Oh, but let us do something special, now that the Warden-Commander is here!" He smirked and looked aound. "Warden-Commander Clarel! Come forward! I have a special demon waiting for you!"

Clarel stepped onto the platform, and an outline of a huge Pride Demon appeared in the Veil tear.

"Bring forward your sacrifice!" The Magister commanded and one of the older warrior stepped onto the platform. "Well, you know what to do," he said encouragingly to Clarel and smiled.

"My friend," she addressed the warrior. "After all these years... I have to ask this last sacrifice of you..."

"If my sword arm can no longer serve you, then I hope my blood will," he looked at her with affection and went down on one knee.

"It will, my friend, it will..." She stood behind him and slit his throat, tears running down her face. She then carefully put the warrior's body onto the altar and prepared to start the ritual.

"Clarel! Stop!" Wolf cried out, pushing forward through the crowd. "The Call that you hear isn't real! Your Magister serves a darkspawn lord!"

"Not real..?" She stopped, looking at Wolf through her tears. "But we all hear it... Which is why we have to make that final push... to end all Blights..."

"You hear the Call not because the taint has finally corrupted your body," Wolf spoke with urgency. "You hear it because it comes from the darkspawn lord! Just like the Call of the Archdemon... The one I slayed some ten years past. Ten years! Think! It is too soon for another Blight!"

"I... what have I done..?" She looked around her, as if only now seeing glazed over expressions on the faces of her mages, now bound to the darkspawn lord. "You!!" She turned to the Magister. "You lied to us!! You said it would stop all Blights!"

"And you clutched that excuse without question!" He sneered. "You were all too greedy for all the power! Just look at the demon waiting to do your bidding! That is the Call that you cannot resist!"

He laughed derisively. Clarel's face contorted with rage and she flung a lightning bolt at him, throwing him on the ground.

"Oh I see," he scrambled to his feet. "My Lord warned me that this could happen. Which is why he taught me another spell..."

He cast a spell, and a shriek and a roar filled the air. A great big undead dragon descended onto the fortress, a dragon very much resembling an Archdemon.

"What?!" Clarel was furious. She shot another bolt at the Magister, nearly killing him where he stood. She was back in control, but it was too late. Great many mages and warriors had been sacrificed already. "No!!" She turned her attention to the dragon. "Not on my watch! Oh what have I done..." She shot a bolt at the dragon and it reeled in pain and took to the air. Clarel went after it, running up the watchtower, expecting the dragon to land there. Demons and mages bound to them attacked the other Wardens turning the roof into a bloody battlefield. Wolf signalled his party to leave the battle and to charge after Clarel. If they could kill the dragon, it was their duty to do so.

Clarel was ahead of them. She kept shooting lightning bolts at the dragon, trying to force it to land. It kept shrieking and circling the tower but didn't fly away and didn't land. Anders, Dorian and Varric added their shots to Clarel's, and Wolf regretted bitterly not bringing his crossbow. Finally the dragon seemed to weaken, another bolt would bring it down... and it did. The dragon crashed into the tower, taking tons of brickwork towards the abyss on the other side. Clarel dived after it, the dragon rose once again, then fell onto the tower, smashing the rest of it and sending the debris and the people into the abyss. The last thing Wolf saw before the abyss closed in, was Clarel plunging her staff into the dragon's skull.

In death, Sacrifice.




~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Nov 7 2024, 02:24 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Dusk, 3E398 - Nightmares

Wolf was standing in the Fade. He knew what it looked like because he'd been there before. It looked like a rocky coast of Northern Ferelden, he could hear the sea nearby and could taste the salt in the air. Everything was wet, and he slipped on the rocks a few times. The Black City was visible in the distance, floating on an island in the sky. "What happened?" Wolf tried to remember. The last thing he knew, he was fighting a dragon... was that the Archdemon? Hadn't he slain the Archdemon already? He could not recall. But whatever happened in Mundus, he had to get back there, he had to find a way out. And so he started walking.

The place was deserted, but there were signs of other travellers here and there - a scrap of a letter here, a half-finished bottle of wine there, a bloody teddy bear, a bunch of wilted flowers, a candle that's gone out... "Someone's memories," Wolf thought. He hoped he would find his own memories too, and so he continued walking.

"Conscription ale: vintage Riordan," Wolf picked up a bottle half-filled with some alcoholic drink. "Riordan. I remember you." Grey Wardens didn't have mules following them around, so every item in their packs was carefully selected. It became a tradition to carry a single bottle of alcohol that got topped up with whatever liqueur they came upon their travels. They nicknamed it "Conscription Ale" because nothing burned like the Joining Cup. Riordan was the Warden that joined Wolf in Alistair for the final assault on the Archdemon. He fell in that battle. Wolf pocketed Riordan's bottle and walked on.

"I don't know you, mage!" He heard an angry voice ahead. "Get out of my way!"

"But you are my son..." A woman's voice pleaded. "And a Grey Warden, like I once was... Your father was the King of Ferelden, we were lovers for so long... The throne is yours by right!"

"You are not my mother!" The angry voice objected. "I am no elf-blood! My mother was a maid at the Redcliffe Castle, she had a brief encounter with the King, and I was the result! Yes, I'm a royal bastard! I know I have a claim on the throne, and I don't want it! Begone, spirit!!"

Wolf turned a corner and saw Alistair argueing with an elven mage... she looked familiar somehow...

"Lord Inquisitor!" She turned to Wolf. "You remember me, right? Fiona. I lead the rebel mages... You recently made us your allies."

"Fiona," Wolf nodded. "Yes, I remember you. We spoke once or twice. You sold out the mages to the Tevinter Imperium," he scowled.

"Oh... but we were desperate!" Fiona protested. "I did explain... You still made us your allies."

"I made the mages my allies because they are not to blame for your transgressions," Wolf frowned. "But this is not why you are here, surely?"

"I am Alistair's mother," Fiona said with a sigh. "But he does not believe me. Make him believe me! Make him remember!"

"Remember what, exactly?" Wolf squinted. "Being inside your womb? Don't be ridiculous."

"My mother was a maid at the castle and she died in child birth... My half-sister said I killed her..." Alistair protested, hotly at first, then the memory of his encounter with his half-sister made him sad and uneasy. "She only wanted my money... as if I had any..."

"That's what people were told! That you were the son of a kitchen maid who died in child birth," Fiona nodded. "Only her babe died with her. You were born shortly after, and thus the story was put together. The King's son could not be an elf-blood! Not even a bastard son! I had to give you up and leave, never to return."

"Could this be true?" Alistair looked at Wolf. "That I am an elf-blood? That I have magic in me? That I was born with the Grey Warden taint and therefore survived the Joining? That I was always meant to be a Grey Warden? That... well... but then the Call I hear is real... if the taint had been in my blood since the start... I should have killed the Archdemon, then. My time is nearly up."

"Yes, this is an interesting point," Wolf had to steady Alistair who looked like he was about to collapse. "What do you mean - you were a Grey Warden, Fiona? You can quit the Order but you cannot stop being a Grey Warden. The taint in your blood is forever. And how come you don't hear the Call?"

"Well, that's just it, no one understands it," Fiona nodded. "It just... fizzled out one day. I could no longer sense darkspawn. I still can't, and I don't hear the Call. My blood is no longer tainted. That's why Grey Wardens booted me out of the Order. I regretted it so much at first... Duncan was such a good friend..."

"Duncan?" Alistair looked up. "What about him?"

"Well, we joined the Order at about the same time," Fiona smiled. "And as two young recruits we shared a lot of missions. We became friends. Then later, when you were born, Duncan promised to make you a Grey Warden and look after you... and he kept his promise."

"Well, that just gets worse by the minute..." Alistair shook his head. "It's like a web closing in on me... Everything was pre-destined, I had no say in anything from before I was even born..."

"Don't listen to her," Wolf said decisively. "For one, this is not the real Fiona because Fiona is back in Skyhold and not here in the Fade." He gave her a hard stare and she rolled her eyes. "For two, Fiona is one of the most slippery and conniving individuals I've ever met," he kept his eyes on her. "She started the mage rebellion... oh yes, it was she who started it, and not that single mage who blew up the Chantry in Kirkwall. I wouldn't be surprised if he had been her agent all along... implicating Grey Wardens, too. Yet Grey Wardens didn't take the fall for the disaster in Kirkwall, that must have been a real setback. Then she led her rebel mages into the war with templars, and let us not pretend that the mages caused no harm. They did! They used blood magic galore, they burned the land and committed crimes, all in the name of freedom and greater good. I understand where they were coming from, with all the repressions, in particular in Kirkwall, but it does not justify what Fiona thought was acceptable to do in that war. The mages were victims no longer!" Wolf glared at Fiona but she remained impenetrable. "And then, just as we've defeated templar units around the area where the mages were staying, Fiona declared an imminent existential threat from the templars and sold out her mages to Tevinter! While no such threat any longer existed! And yes, that Tevinter Magister did manipulate the fabric of time, but even so, even in his new warped reality, the immediate threat from the templars had already been eliminated! There was no need to sell out the mages at all! Which is what most mages could see and said so! I really don't understand why you still live."

"I still live because none of that matters, Inquisitor," Fiona answered with a smirk. "I still live because there's no one else the mages would rather have as their leader. Because none of them has the guts to step up and challenge me. That's why they were so easy to manipulate, as you too have found out."

"The mages still remember the horrors of blood magic rebellion in the Circle Tower in Ferelden and later in Kirkwall," Alistair nodded. "They are terrified from such events repeating."

"What the mages need to understand, is that they can draw strength from templars," Wolf nodded. "But this notion is too far out for the present. And anyway... Alistair, this spirit does not represent your mother. I do not believe that Fiona could be your mother. I think your mother was that human woman who died in child birth."

"And my life was not pre-destined," Alistair nodded. "I made my own choices. I joined Grey Wardens because I asked to join Grey Wardens. I abdicated my birth right to the throne because I chose to do so. Because I wanted to remain with the Order. Which is my family. Where I have a purpose and a job to do. That's right! Begone, spirit!" Alistair straightened up and looked at Fiona. "I do not believe you."

Fiona vanished.

"Phew..." Alistair sighed. "Thank you, friend. That was a hard one... My worst nightmare... lack of control..."

"Well, it's over," Wolf smiled. "I wonder who else is here. What happened? I remember fighting a dragon... was that the Archdemon?"

"No, that was some other dragon..." Alistair scratched the back of his head. "It sure looked like the Archdemon though... Something isn't right. And there were others with us - Anders, Dorian, Varric, Cassandra... I wonder if they are here as well."

"I wonder if we need to find them in order to get out," Wolf nodded. "And where is the exit..?"

They walked on, looking for anything other than the endless rocks and sea.

...

"Well, I am sorry!" They heard an apologetic voice further ahead. "I didn't know what red lyrium was... what it did..."

"But you were greedy, just like your brother!" An angry voice replied.

"I admit that I was," the first voice sounded dejected. "It's all my fault, after all... You're dead because of me, Hawke..."

Wolf and Alistair turned a corner and saw Varric talking to Hawke.

"I died in that stupid assault on the Grey Wardens fortress!" Hawke replied hotly. "What madness!! What were you thinking?! How could you send me into that battle?!"

"I..." Varric was nearly crying.

"You did no such thing," Wolf interrupted them. "There was no frontal assault, we went through a back door... and Hawke wasn't with us because he refused to come! This spirit is taunting you, Varric."

"There wasn't..?" Varric stood aghast. "But I remember..."

"What do you remember?" Alistair joined in. "Because I remember you following me. I don't remember you commanding any troops or sending anyone into battle, least of all Hawke. Wake up, Varric!"

"Hawke always followed me though, after a fashion," Varric was looking at Hawke with affection. "He's perhaps my closest friend... I shielded him from Cassandra... but then I gave him up. Because I thought that the hole in the sky was more important. Rubbish! What good is this world if I lose my closest friend?"

"But he's not dead, Varric," Wolf said quietly. "He didn't come with us."

"You'd think that, wouldn't you," Varric smirked. "Because he's stubborn, the same as you, Warden... Hawke has his pride... He'd rather join in the shadows and come to light in the end... He'll be there, one way or the other..."

"Well, that may be, but I haven't seen him and there's no reason to believe that he's dead," Wolf said firmly. "We'll have to get out of here and see what's going on."

"Yeah, may be..." Varric looked around. "Yeah, that's it. That's rubbish, and this is not Hawke, I am going back and there I'll find him and help him fight..."

Varric vanished before he could even finish his sentence. Hawke glared at Wolf and Alistair and vanished too.

"Now, which of them was a real person?" Alistair looked around in surprise.

"Who knows?" Wolf shrugged. "May be neither. Come on."

...

"How did you get out of the Fade before?" Alistair stopped after they'd been walking for a long time but only saw rocks and sea around them.

"I simply willed it," Wolf stopped too. "I pictured where I was just before I entered the Fade, and I willed myself to be there again... And I was out. Unless there's a demon guarding the pocket we're in, that's all that it takes."

"Well, I only remember falling into the abyss," Alistair sighed. "I can't remember rightly what was going on... We were fighting a lot of demons... and mages... there was a sacrifice..."

"...a blood magic ritual binding a demon to a mage," Wolf nodded. "Yes, at the Grey Warden fortress. They were all Grey Wardens."

"Which is why we had to stop them," Alistair nodded. "It's coming back to me..."

"I remember that bit too, but what I don't recall is how I got this mark," Wolf raised his hand. "There was a Conclave... we came to observe... then there was a massive explosion and I ran in... then woke up three days later with this thing on my hand. But what happened in that room? What is it?"

"I can't help you there," Alistair shook his head. "We all were behind you. We just saw the explosion. What you need is to find your memories. Perhaps they are here, in the Fade."

"Perhaps this is what's keeping us here," Wolf nodded.

He took a few steps, something caught his eye.

"Come look at this!" He called to Alistair but got no answer. He turned around - Alistair was gone. "He's out," Wolf decided. "He remembered everything he needed to remember. But I have not..."

He looked around at the endless rocks melting into the sea, at the floating island of the Black City in the distance... It changed somehow. Was that... a dragon? A dragon was circling the floating island, as if trying to decide which way to go. Which dragon was that? It looked familiar... If only Wolf could recall...





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Nov 7 2024, 02:25 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Dusk, 3E398 - Voices from the past

"Hello, my friend, it's been too long," a voice from the past called and Wolf spun around. Morrigan. "You haven't tried to find me, as I requested. Is that because you respected my wishes or because you no longer care?" She looked at him with a sad smile.

"It's because that's what you wanted," Wolf answered with caution. "You are not Morrigan, I know, but what is it you want, spirit?"

"Not Morrigan? Are you sure? Morrigan can walk in the Fade," the spirit objected. "But it does not matter, the result will be the same. Look: here is your son." She flicked her wrist and an image of a young boy appeared in a mirror - an elven eluvyan, which, too, appeared next to Morrigan. "He will be ten years old soon."

"I cannot remember my son because I've never seen him," Wolf looked at the spirit. "Now I am certain you are not Morrigan."

"You don't want to kiss me then?" She pouted her lips. "For the old times' sake?"

"No."

"What if I was the real Morrigan?" She smiled slyly. "Would you want to kiss her?"

Wolf did not have time to reply. They heard noises of a battle and Cassandra charged in, fencing with several ghosts.

"Stay back! Get behind me! These demons are aggressive!!!" She shot a glance at Wolf and scowled, seeing Morrigan by his side.

"These demons are no match for you, Seeker!" Wolf shouted and joined her in the fight. Within minutes, the battle was over.

"Always such a gentleman," Morrigan smiled.

"He is... He killed the Divine!!" Cassandra scowled at Wolf. "He is my prisoner! I am taking him to be executed!!"

"No, you were taking me to close a rift in the Veil, remember?" Wolf shook his head. "I was unarmed and you tried to protect me from the demons along the way."

"Close a rift in the Veil?" Cassandra stepped back. "Ah... yes... It's coming back to me now... You've got a holy mark on your hand... To close the rifts... We set up the Inquisition... You are the Inquisitor... and... oh... but who is she?!" It was only then that Cassandra took a good look at Morrigan. "An apostate?! A hedge witch?!!"

"I do look the part, don't I?" Morrigan smirked. "It is only I, the Witch of the Wilds, here talking to the father of my child..."

"What..?" Cassandra's voice fell. "So why then..?" She stepped back, shaking her head. "No... I imagined it all, if course. It never happened. No one would ever... what was I thinking..?"

"I don't think that even real Morrigan would be so cruel," Wolf glared at Morrigan. "Get lost!!"

Morrigan only smiled and Wolf snorted and turned his back to her.

"You didn't imagine it, Cassandra," he took a step towards her. "I was flirting with you. And I have no intention of stopping."

"But why?" Cassandra looked at him sideways. "I am a warrior. I have no graces and no charm. I cannot compare to her," she shot a glance at Morrigan.

"You have charm and graces more than you know," Wolf didn't give up. "Your passion, your fire, you cannot hide that."

"No," she shook her head. "You cannot court me."

"Why not? I'd like to try."

"You... you have a son!"

"Whom I've never seen, in accordance with his mother's wishes," Wolf took another step towards Cassandra.

"But what if you see him? What if..?"

"What if I meet the real Morrigan, you mean?" Wolf turned to look at Morrigan who stood there smiling. "It's been ten years." He turned back to Cassandra. "She never wanted to see me again, she chose a different path. I have to assume she will want to continue on it. And I have my own path to follow."

"That does not involve me," Cassandra nodded.

"I don't know," Wolf smiled. "That would depend on you."

"Ah..!"

"We need to leave this place," Wolf came close, speaking into her ear. "It isn't exactly romantic... all this wet rock..."

Herz, mein Herz, was soll das geben?
Was bedränget dich so sehr?
Welch ein fremdes, neues Leben!
Ich erkenne dich nicht mehr.

"No!" Cassandra paled, surprised, pulling back.

Weg ist alles was du liebtest,
Weg, warum du dich betrübtest,
Weg dein Fleiß und deine Ruh -
Ach, wie kamst du nur dazu!

Wolf took another step towards her.

Und an diesem Zauberfädchen,
Das sich nicht zerreißen lässt...

Cassandra twisted away and jumped back.

Die Veränderung, ach, wie groß!
Liebe! Liebe! Laß mich los!

She laughed, finishing the poem for him.

"Let's get out of here," she smiled. "All this wet rock..."

She vanished before she could finish her sentence.

"Well, well, I see you are up to your old tricks - courting the one woman of substance in the party," Morrigan smirked. "I do wonder... What will you do when the real Morrigan joins you at Skyhold? What will you say to your son when you see him? How will you explain this new woman in your life? I shall be watching you, Lord Wolf Asgarsen Trevelyan. I shall be watching..."

She turned away, took a few steps and vanished. Wolf was no longer certain it wasn't the real Morrigan after all.

...

Wolf had been walking for hours, it seemed. He was alone among the rocks and the sea. Nothing interrupted the monotony. He pulled out Riordan's bottle and took a sip. The liqueur was strong but nothing burned quite like the Joining Cup. "I should start a bottle of my own," he thought. The mark on his hand burned with searing pain. "I have to remember how I got this..." He got up and started walking again.

After a while he saw a woman on a burning crucifix. She looked familiar, and he approached.

"Run, run while you can!" She cried.

He stood in the chamber of the Conclave. The woman was being held in place with some unknown magic, it weren't the flames that he saw, it was the magical force holding her in place. She was the Divine. The darkspawn lord held an orb in his hand, he intended to do something with it... but Wolf's appearance interrupted it, he looked away momentarily, and the Divine kicked at his hand with all her force. The orb flew through the air... and Wolf caught it. It burned worse than the Joining Cup. He dropped it, it was impossible to hold. Then... he stood in the Fade. He remembered running towards a glowing portal... he was being chased... by some creatures... spiders, scorpions, whatever they were... He made it to the portal and leapt through it. He woke up in Haven three days later.

"So, the orb," he thought. "That was the Elven artefact that Solas was talking about. That was what caused the explosion and created the breach. Solas knows what it is but is not telling. I wonder why. Surely, he cannot be blamed for the magic created by ancient elves..."

Wolf never trusted Solas. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. It wasn't because Solas kept to himself and was aloof and distant. A lot of people were like that. Solas was likely very old by human standards, he knew a great deal about the Fade and ancient elven magics, he wasn't just another mage. Why did he join the Inquisition? He wanted to defeat the darkspawn lord, he claimed... That part was probably true. But his interest in the orb went beyond academic. Wolf didn't trust him and never took him along if he could help it.

That orb was the key. One way or the other, they'd have to find that darkspawn lord and pry the orb from him, and then Wolf would simply fling it into the heavens and close the breach.

He got up and straightened his back. He knew what to do.

...

"Finally!" Zevran bent over Wolf's cot in the infirmary wing at Skyhold. "You gave us a fright! Three days! It's been three days!"

"Three days since what?" Wolf sat up, awake.

"Since they brought you here from the desert," Zevran smiled. "That is, it's been three days and a week! What happened?"

"The Fade," Wolf shrugged. "The others?"

"You all returned, except Clarel," Zevran pointed at the other cots. "All unconscious. All had to be carried here on carts. It takes a week to travel at that speed from the desert! But the others woke up before you. You've been thrashing."

"Spiders," Wolf grimaced. "And... things." He looked around. "Grey Wardens?"

"Many were lost, of course," Zevran said with a sigh. "But many more survived. They still hear the Call, but not as bad and not as persistent, and now that they know it's not real, they can resist. The Order will have to be rebuilt, but for now they joined the Inquisition."

"Was that Alistair's doing?" Wolf grinned.

"No, actually," Zevran sounded surprised. "It was... a general sentiment. You can ask them yourself when the nurse allows you to get up."

...

It was a few days before the nurse was satisfied with Wolf's condition and released him from the infirmary wing. He went to the barracks, as Zevran had suggested. Grey Wardens were huddled together, tending to their arms and armour, training and practicing spells. Wolf noticed they were mostly warriors, very few mages survived.

"No, blood magic is not inherently evil!" He heard a familiar voice coming from a group of mages. "I know you just had a shock! But that isn't all that blood magic is good for! I'd never suggest doing anything of the sort! But there are other uses!!"

The mages were having none of it, with many discontent voices covering Anders.

"He's right, you know," Wolf approached them and everyone turned around. "Blood magic can be used. But you must know what you are doing."

"Warden-Commander!" They stopped arguing and saluted. "If you say so... but we are not convinced."

"Leave them be, Anders," Wolf patted his arm. "They've been through a lot lately. We'll keep blood magic between us for now. I think they've seen the very worst one could think of..." Then he turned to the mages. "I am very sorry that we couldn't save the others... but..."

"...they were too far gone," someone said softly. "We know. No one here wants to use blood magic for that reason."

"Grey Wardens do not prohibit blood magic, but neither do they insist on its use," Wolf declared, shooting Anders a glance and changing the topic. "I hear you all joined the Inquisition. I welcome your help, of course. But shouldn't Grey Wardens look after the Order first?"

"We will when you return to Vigil Keep," someone said from the back of the crowd.

"There are too few of us and we need a leader," someone else seconded.

"And he is here, that is you, Warden-Commander," another person added.

"The Wardens will remain for as long as we are useful in your fight against the darkspawn lord," a mage at the front summarised. "Because Grey Wardens always rise against darkspawn."

"Then it is time to make it clear that Lord Inquisitor is a Grey Warden," Wolf nodded and smiled, as the griffon crest on his armour caught the light.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Poetry: Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, "Neue Liebe, neues Leben", a sonnet first published in 1775.

I looked at English translations but found them lacking. Wolf preferred the original, and Cassandra agreed.

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Nov 7 2024, 02:26 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Evening Star, 3E398 - Romance

"What's on your mind, my friend?" Zevran produced a bottle of Antivan brandy. "You've been brooding lately."

"Yes, I have..." Wolf accepted a goblet and took a sip. Antivan brandy always helped the flow of conversation. "It's about us..."

They were sitting on the roof of a watchtower, away from prying eyes and ears. What Wolf had to say, was no one's business. Everyone already got used to Zevran spending many a night in Wolf's quarters, and although at first people assumed that it showed Wolf's preference for men, after a time different rumours won over - those about a secret connection between Wolf and Zevran that had nothing to do with sex. It must have been demonic possession, blood magic binding, an ancient elven curse or something equally absurd; or it was just that Zevran was Wolf's slave, and thus... what exactly? People always preferred spectacular stories to mundane ones, regardless of their merit, and Wolf didn't care enough about the rumours to try to correct them. A few people realised that Wolf and Zevran were simply old friends who both felt out of place with the Inquisition and sought each other's company instead.

"Cassandra?" Zevran smiled. "I noticed the way you look at her. I shall stay out of your quarters."

"Cassandra, yes, but there's more..." Wolf took another sip of his brandy. "We've been traveling together for ten years now, give or take," Wolf coughed uncomfortably and shifted in his seat. "And you never... well... you stopped romancing men after we got together... after the Archdemon was slain... And I wasn't romancing anyone serious since Morrigan left... So even though you and I never... oh this is really awkward..." He paused again and took another sip, but Zevran remained silent, waiting for Wolf to finish what he had to say. "I feel like I never reciprocated your affection in a way that shows what you mean to me, in a way you would have wanted... you aren't just another friend... I feel like if I get involved with Cassandra, it would come between us. I like her a lot, but this isn't worth hurting your feelings. And so I am at a loss..."

"You are afraid that your relationship with Cassandra may become serious," Zevran summarised. "And that you would be 'unfaithful' to me in that case. Worry not, my friend, for I know you need a woman, and I am a man. I shall not abandon you."

"I wish I could..." Wolf shook his head.

"No need," Zevran smiled. "You telling me this now is enough. But I wonder... What will you do when your Imperial Legion calls you back? Because one day they will."

"Yes, this thought crossed my mind many times," Wolf nodded. "It could be years still, but one day they'll call me back, that is the point. Yet my stay here in Thedas is too long not to make bonds... I suppose when they do call me back, I'll have to either break my bonds or perhaps ask the other person to come with me... Would you be willing to leave Antiva behind and come with me to Tamriel?" He looked up; he surprised himself with this question, he never meant to ask it, not yet... but he thought of it often. Zevran would be better off in Tamriel, there was no stigma against elves there, he would no longer be a slave... but he would have to leave his beloved Antiva behind, and Wolf felt it might be too big a sacrifice.

"I... that is a hard question," Zevran agreed. "When the Archdemon was slain, you offered me to stay with the Wardens, even if I didn't want to become a Grey Warden myself. That was easy, and I accepted it gladly. Antiva was still only a few days travel away... But Tamriel is too far for a casual visit. If I leave, it will be for a very long time... a lifetime, perhaps. But not to leave would mean for me to remain here alone... I don't know if Antiva would still shine without you being there as well."

Zevran fell silent. They sat on the tower roof sipping their brandy, watching the sun set into the mountain tops and the stars dot the sky.

"Do the stars look the same in Tamriel?" Zevran asked softly.

"They do," Wolf nodded. "And we have two moons as well..."

"Two moons..." Zevran smiled. "Have you noticed ours? No moons at all for the most part, but sometimes one large moon rises..."

"Masser," Wolf pointed at a crescent just visible over the mountains. "You see it better in the Hissing Wastes..."

"Ah, the desert in the West," Zevran was looking at the stars. "Indeed. But sometimes it also rises above Antiva..."

"I am not leaving yet, my friend," Wolf said softly. "It may be still years. You don't need to decide today."

"I think I know already though," Zevran turned to look at him. "I'll collect what memories I can of Antiva... and then I'll come with you. The moon will be there to remind me of home until perhaps I find a new home in Tamriel."

"I am glad," Wolf raised a toast. "When this Inquisition is over and the darkspawn threat is defeated once again, we should leave for Antiva. The Crows send their regards."

"You want to take over the Crows?" Zevran laughed. "That would be something..."

"No, I want to play," Wolf winked. "I am not a Crows assassin, but you still are. Can I not be your sidekick for a change? I'm sure the Legion will wait."

"And what about Grey Wardens?" Zevran looked up.

"They need a vacation," Wolf grinned. "Grey Wardens deserve some boredom without any duties for a time. There aren't many of us left in Ferelden... and perhaps this time if the Crows get a contract on one or the other Grey Warden, they will actually succeed..."

"Oh you want to... The Crows will be honoured, I'm sure," Zevran laughed and raised a toast. "The Crows send their regards!"

...

"Cassandra, I'd like to speak with you, please," Wolf approached Cassandra interrupting her training. "That dummy needs replacing," he noted with a smile. "And while they are doing that... There's a grove just outside of the main gate, down the path - do you know it?" Cassandra nodded. "Well... meet me there in a bit."

"What is it about?" Cassandra squinted.

"You'll see," Wolf smiled, noting her paleness. "You won't need your sword, I hope."

He turned around and walked away, leaving Cassandra quite nervous. She did have an idea what it was about... and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. She loitered and played for time, she first went to see the quartermaster about the dummy... but when she could no longer pretend to have duties, she went to the grove.

She noticed Zevran loitering near the start of the path, pretending not to watch it. "So he wants to prevent us being disturbed," she thought. As she walked and the castle behind her became hidden from view, she saw candles and lanterns adorning the grove, flowers never before seen growing there, she saw a picnic set out in the middle with cheese and wine and grapes... but other than that, the grove seemed deserted.

Away with your fictions of flimsy romance;
Those tissues of falsehood which folly has wove!
Give me the mild beam of the soul-breathing glance,
Or the rapture which dwells on the first kiss of love.

Cassandra spun around, but there were too many trees and leafy bushes to see anything or anyone.

Ye rhymers, whose bosoms with phantasy glow,
Whose pastoral passions are made for the grove;
From what blest inspiration your sonnets would flow,
Could you ever have tasted the first kiss of love!

"And this is the poem you chose?" She spoke in the direction of Wolf's voice. "A poem that was once forbidden?"

If Apollo should e'er his assistance refuse,
Or the Nine be desposed from your service to rove,
Invoke them no more, bid adieu to the muse,
and try the effect of the first kiss of love.

Cassandra laughed softly and replied with a verse of her own:

In play, there are two pleasures for your choosing-
The one is winning, and the other losing.

Wolf stepped out into the grove.

Oh! cease to affirm that man, since his birth,
From Adam till now, has with wretchedness strove,
Some portion of paradise still is on earth,
And Eden revives in the first kiss of love.

Cassandra leaned onto a tree, relaxing and letting go. Letting go of what? She wasn't certain, but it felt as if chains were falling away from her heart.

She spoke in a softer, gentler tone, her Navarran accent strongly resembling that of the depths of Skyrim.

When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past-
For years fleet away with the wings of the dove-

Wolf stood just behind her, not rushing into contact. He felt he should let her take the lead. Just another line...

The dearest rememberance will still be the last-

She spun around, facing him.

Our sweetest memorial the first kiss of love.

...

"Why did you do all this?" Cassandra sat up on the picnic blanket. The evening was unexpectedly warm, or perhaps they didn't feel the chill for other reasons. "This romantic place..." she looked around. "The lights, the flowers..."

"The wine and the cheese as well," Wolf laughed, handing her a goblet. "I know you only mentioned the candles and flowers, and the shops around here are short on poetry books... so I had to make do with what I knew by heart. And you knew it too, I notice." He pulled her close and kissed her again. "I always felt you were a romantic."

"I was... once," she nodded and smiled. "But after my brother's death... I was too angry for too long. Then I met a man who changed all that... he was a mage... we were together for a year or two, in the middle of the rebellion, of the civil war... imagine - a mage and a Seeker! We couldn't meet much... And then he died in the explosion at the Conclave." She paused, taking a sip of her wine. "And you survived... the only one to survive that explosion, and it wasn't he!" She looked at Wolf and shook her head.

"So you put me in chains," Wolf nodded. "Your interrogation... well, it wasn't technically a torture... but only technically..." He smirked. "I understand now, Cassandra."

"But duty took over," she nodded. "You had the mark, and it worked in closing rifts, so like it or not, we had to keep you, and keep you alive... Oh how I would have liked to swap your life for his!" She gave a short laugh. "And then... with everything you did... even if I disagreed... And now this picnic, the poetry... Am I just a challenge to you? Have I just lost?"

"I love you, Cassandra," Wolf said without hesitation, surprising himself perhaps more than her.

"Do you?" She looked at him searching. "You better, Warden-Commander..."






~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Poetry: Lord Byron, "The First Kiss of Love", December 1806; also two lines from "Don Juan", 1819.

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Nov 7 2024, 02:28 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Morning Star, 3E399 - Duties and requests

The Inquisition was very busy. The mage-templar war was stopped, but not in the way people had hoped. Instead of templars clashing with mages, there were now new kind of templars with their own agenda, plus a cult of mages from Tevinter with a similar agenda. These mages and templars didn't fight between themselves but instead focused on mining red lyrium where veins already existed, and creating new veins where there were none. And that was done by growing red lyrium on the bodies of people... The same thing that Wolf and others had seen in the darkspawn prison where they ended up during their expedition to the Deep Roads years ago. Now no villager was safe, people were being captured and sent to red lyrium farms, never to return. It was a terrible fate. The darkspawn lord lost his army of rebel mages and his army of Grey Wardens, but he still had an army of templars and another army of Tevinter mages... And of course he also had a dragon. All in all, the Inquisition still had a lot to do.

"We must see to it that we disable those armies," Cullen was arguing at the war table. "We can disrupt lyrium supplies and disable as many red lyrium farms as we are able. That'll bring him to his knees!"

"It is a nice idea but it won't work," Leliana cut him off. "If he has an Archdemon, we need an army of Grey Wardens to tackle it, and the Grey Wardens Order is severely short on manpower..."

"We were short on manpower ten years ago, during the Blight, with just Alistair and myself being the entire Grey Wardens contingent," Wolf pointed out. "We made alliances. You were there, Leliana, you should know."

"I know!" She protested. "I also know that we now have that darkspawn lord on top!"

"So then, we take the fight to them!" Cullen slammed his fist on the table. "It's been long enough!"

"And where exactly would that be?" Josephine joined in. "Nobody knows where this lord is hiding or how to draw him out! It seems to me he will come to us, and we'll have to fight him on his terms, not ours!"

After half an hour of circular arguments Wolf threw up his hands in the air and left the room.

"The Inquisition is at an impasse, I see," Dorian joined him in the garden. "I'd say take it one task at a time. Those mages from Tevinter... I can imagine what drives them. Tevinter was once the grandest empire in Thedas... Tevinter was Thedas, the other kingdoms did not even exist. Well, that's because we had enslaved everyone... Horrible, I know, but it is still my homeland. These mages probably hope to restore our lost glory... but I don't know how it fits with that darkspawn lord... Was he a Magister from Tevinter, perhaps? Still alive after a thousand years?"

"He told me he spent a thousand years in the Grey Wardens prison," Wolf nodded. "So yeah, it could be true."

"That would be since before the First Blight," Dorian rubbed his chin. "Well, your Chantry preaches that it were Tevinter Magisters who reached out to Heaven and corrupted the Maker's Golden City... While our Chantry naturally preaches that the Golden City was already corrupted when the Magisters got there... A slight distinction, whether or not the Blights are our fault."

"I think it doesn't matter, Dorian," Wolf shrugged. "It no longer matters who started it. The question now is how to prevent the next end of the world."

"Why was that lord imprisoned?" Dorian suddenly asked. "I mean, I understand why Grey Wardens imprisoned him then, after all the Order was just created and they were facing an unknown threat. But Grey Wardens learned to kill Archdemons since then. Why did they not kill that lord in the same way?"

"Hmm... I wish I knew..." Wolf shook his head.

"But you are a Warden-Commander," Dorian was not giving up. "Surely, someone knows. Why don't they share that knowledge with their Commanders?"

"I think something strange is happening at the Head Quarters," Wolf agreed. "But I have no time now to dive into that..."

...

"The Seekers have disappeared!" Cassandra looked very crossed and hit the dummy exceptionally hard. "They didn't join the templars, they didn't follow that darkspawn lord, as some had suggested. No, the whole Order just vanished!" Wham! The dummy had to pay for that.

"Out comes the dragon," Wolf smirked to himself. "Have you tried to find them?" He asked aloud.

"I have," Cassandra stopped hitting the dummy. "I got a few leads... I'd appreciate it if we could investigate them... even though I know you're very busy, Lord Inquisitor. And I want no favours on the account of..." She didn't get to finish her sentence because Lord Inquisitor took measures to temper the dragon with a kiss.

"Nonsense, Cassandra," he said softly, still holding her close. "Oh, don't worry, everyone already knows. Did you want to keep it a secret? So naturally it spread like wildfire. People do wonder whether you'll now settle down, whether we'll get married and have three children at least..."

"WHAT?!!!" Cassandra nearly jumped out of Wolf's embrace but he held her tightly.

"Isn't it what's expected of a fine noble couple like ourselves?" He smirked. "People are also talking that you down-sold yourself, Lady Cassandra Pentaghast, member of the Royal House of Nevarra, 87th in line for the throne. I am, after all, but a humble noble from the Free Marches..." He grinned, watching her roll her eyes. "Although House Trevelyan is going to be thrilled to learn that their 'lost son' liaised himself with the Pentaghasts."

"Oh drop it already!" Cassandra sighed. "I am too old to have children anyway..."

"Regrets?"

"Yes... No..." Cassandra shook her head. "I would have liked to experience motherhood... but I don't like everything else that comes with it. Like being a Lady of the Court, or staying at home, or giving up being a Seeker..."

"Romantic, as always," Wolf smiled. "We'll search for the missing Seekers, of course. And not because it's you who's asking... Well, not only because of that. Something isn't right..."

...

"Lord Inquisitor, if I could have a moment..." Josephine called out to Wolf when he was passing her office on the way to the war room. "I wonder if I may impose on you with a personal request?" She looked somewhat embarrassed. "It's about my family."

"Of course, Josephine," Wolf smiled. "The war council can wait. What is it?"

"Well... You see..." she stumbled, which was very unlike her. "My family, House Montilyet, has been exiled to Orlais from our native Antiva for over a century now. We've been disgraced, indebted..." she sighed, then shook her head. "Oh, very few people know about that. But such is the truth. I am the eldest child and the head of our House... and I found proof of that old intrigue. With it, our honour and standing can be reinstated. I sent it to the Empress of Orlais as is the proper procedure... but the messenger was found murdered with the proof missing. And now..." She looked even more uneasy. "Now I received a personal threat. It seems, there is a contract on my life... not with the Antivan Crows but a rival assassins group in Orlais... so..." She seemed unsure how to proceed with her request.

"We need to deal with the assassins somehow," Wolf nodded. "And you'll need a bodyguard."

"Yes, well, that... err... That's where my request comes in," she smiled. "Your friend is a Crows assassin... Zevran, is it? Perhaps he would know what to do?"

"Zevran can guard your life, for sure," Wolf nodded. "But we need to deal with the contract."

"Yes, I know, he is your friend, not mine, but may be now that you have Cassandra to soothe your nights..."

"Josephine!" Wolf didn't like where that was going. "Zevran can guard your life, but he is no whore."

"Oh I would never..!" Josephine blushed to the roots of her dark hair.

"Lady Montilyet, let us return to the topic of the contract," Wolf said quite formally. "If it is not held by the Antivan Crows, Zevran can only assist in guarding your life, not in eliminating the contract. Tell me the rest."

"Well, I received a letter from a certain Marquis in Orlais... inviting me to discuss this contract," Josephine recovered from her embarrassment. "Only I know that man. He is about as likely to be involved as the Empress' favourite rabbit... It is clearly a trap, yet one I cannot ignore. Will you come with me to this meeting, Lord Trevelyan?" She looked at him and smiled. "For moral support."

"I'll bring my best daggers," Wolf smiled.

...

"Lord Inquisitor!" Leliana was out of breath. "I'm glad I could catch you here at Skyhold. I have a favour to ask."

"Of course you do," Wolf turned around. "Let's hear it."

"I received a letter from the late Divine..."

"What?! But she's dead!"

"It is a will of sorts," Leliana giggled at the effect of her statement. "She didn't send it after her death, she wrote it a long time ago and left it with a trustee to be dispatched upon her demise. He now forwarded it to me. She left something for me at the Chantry where she was a priest. But I feel uneasy about it..."

"And you want me to come with you in case it is a trap," Wolf nodded. "Alright."

"Please!" Leliana looked pleadingly at him. "For old times sake! Please, Warden-Commander!"

"But I already agreed," Wolf smiled. "Of course I'll help. Even if you and I disagree on just about every matter."

"Oh... Yes... thank you," Leliana smiled. "Let's not delay it too much though, it could be important."

...

"Warden, if I may have a word?" Varric called out to Wolf in the Great Hall. "It's about..."

"Red lyrium," a dwarven woman whom Wolf had never seen before, was standing next to Varric.

"This is Bianca," Varric introduced her.

"Ah, like the crossbow," Wolf grinned. "So this one is the original, is she, Varric?" He winked.

"Well..."

"I am." Bianca beamed at him. "And I've got something to tell you... and to show you. It's about red lyrium and how your darkspawn lord knew about its existence."

"Alright," Wolf nodded. "And you want us to leave straight away, no doubt?"

"Well, Bianca does need to get back..." Varric shuffled his feet.

"At your service," Wolf grinned. "I think we'll cancel war council meetings for the next month."

...

Everyone wanted something from Wolf all of a sudden. Every single person asked for a favour. Everyone except Dorian. So Wolf sought out Dorian himself.

"Can you explain this to me?" He looked at Dorian quizzically. "They all want something, they all have needs that only Lord Inquisitor can fulfil... but not you?"

"'What's wrong with you?' - is that what you are asking?" Dorian laughed. "But no, I have no favours to ask. I handle my affairs myself."

"So, there's something, then," Wolf smiled. "It's safe to tell me, you know I'm quite impartial in this."

"Well... It isn't that important." Dorian looked away and Wolf got a distinct impression that it was very important.

"It's your call, Dorian," Wolf said quietly. "Just remember that I'm your friend and I'll help if I can. The darkspawn lord can wait, I'm sure."

"Yes, well... You will think it silly... I recently broke up with a... friend... well, lover. I had given him a gift... in better days... it's a family trinket of mine, it's my birthright as a Magister. A token, if you like. And while I have no plans on becoming a Magister myself, I want that trinket back because I don't want him to have it... not after... well... we didn't remain friends." Dorian fell silent.

"But you still love him," Wolf nodded.

"Yes... despite what came to pass. How did you know?"

"It shows."

"I never thought..."

"A wounded heart shows," Wolf looked at Dorian sideways. "Even though you don't wear it on your sleeve. But I can see the signs. What do you want me to do?"

"He must not die over this," Dorian looked at Wolf. "But perhaps you could talk to him..?"

...

"People trust you, you've earned the authority," Anders was giving his take on the matter when Wolf complained that everyone started asking favours all of a sudden. "These are not new matters, and may be each of them was grinding to a halt... festering without resolution..."

"I've declined a few," Wolf looked at him. "Vivienne asked me to hunt some ferocious beast for its heart so that she could fulfil a request of some noble or other... I don't see why she thought I'd do it!"

"She was testing you, perhaps?" Anders shrugged.

"Well, then she failed," Wolf scowled. "I am no doormat, even if it does seem otherwise sometimes..."

"Oh no, you are no doormat, Warden-Commander," Anders laughed. "We all know that. But people like Vivienne, they find themselves too important to look around."

"Yeah... If she wants to leave, she won't be missed."

It was good to talk to an old friend who had no favours to ask. Wolf spent the rest of the day with the Wardens until Oghren finally drank him under the table. No one could outdrink Oghren, but it was always fun to try.

"The ppproblem with your Inquisssssssition..." Oghren tried to speak between hiccups, "...is that evvvvveryone has an agenda. Not like the Wwwwwardens who jusssssst want to..."

"Smash all darkspawwwwwwwn!!" Someone picked up his sentence.

"Rrrright!! Bartender..!"

"You drank all the ale! What am I supposed to serve you?!" The bartender kicked an empty barrel.

"It matters not," Anders raised his head. "Nothing burns quite like the Joining Cup..."





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Nov 7 2024, 02:30 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Dawn, 3E399 - Revelations

"We have a breakthrough," Josephine proudly declared during a war council meeting. "The Empress of Orlais is sending us her Arcane Adviser, a mage who is exceptionally versed in the matters of the Fade as well as ancient artefacts..."

"But we already have such a mage," Cassandra interrupted, confused. "Solas."

"Yes, well, but this mage is not an elf herself," Josephine pointed out.

"So? Why is that better?" Cassandra squinted.

"That makes her impartial!"

"Hardly!"

"Stop arguing and tells us who she is!" Wolf had had enough of it. It was always the same thing - arguments, arguments and arguments.

"Her name is Lady Morrigan," Josephine consulted her notes. "She is the Arcane Adviser to the Empress of Orlais."

"Morrigan?!" Wolf, Leliana and Cullen exclaimed in chorus. "An adviser to the Empress??" Wolf couldn't get over the surprise.

"Yes... Why are you all staring at me?" Josephine took a step back.

"Morrigan is the Witch of the Wilds," Leliana said with a hiss.

"Morrigan is an apostate!" Cullen scowled.

"Morrigan... is coming here?" Wolf asked softly and Cassandra shot him a glance.

"They should be here shortly," Josephine confirmed, consulting her notes again. "She is also bringing her son."

...

"Morrigan?!" Alistair was as surprised as Wolf. "What are you going to do?"

"What do you mean? I'm going to hear what she has to say... err..." Wolf shuffled his feet.

"Yeah... I bet she'll have something to say..." Alistair shook his head. "And the boy with her? Your son?"

"Yes..." Wolf nodded. "But you remember..."

"He's got a soul of an ancient god, straight out of the Archdemon," Alistair nodded. "Yes, I remember. I always knew it was a bad idea."

"No point dwelling on it now, the boy is ten years old. I rather wonder why Morrigan decided to come here now. I'm sure it is not because of me," Wolf pointed out. "In all these years she never made contact, and she did make me promise to leave her alone. So I wonder what changed."

"The hole in the sky may have something to do with it," Alistair smirked. "And that glowing mark on your hand."

The following day Morrigan arrived at Skyhold. She had an oxcart laden with something very large encased in a sturdy wooden box the size of a wardrobe. Yet Wolf didn't think it contained any dresses. Once Morrigan settled in, she called the war council to explain her presence.

"I am here because I believe I can help you find your darkspawn lord," she stated without a preamble. "You all know who I am, some of you better than others," she shot a glance at Leliana. "Oh please don't act surprised, Sister," she smirked. "I've noticed your crows circling around my quarters at the palace. You knew exactly where I was and what I was doing. But to business," she turned to Wolf. "You remember the eluvian that I went through just after my son... our son was born? Well, I brought such an eluvian with me, recovered from a crumbling elven ruin. It leads to a crossroads of sorts, a space in the Fade with many other eluvians in it. Each leads either to another pocket of the Fade, or to a place in Thedas, or somewhere in between. And by that I mean a plane where ancient elves used to live. Modern elves believe it was in the forests of Thedas, but they are wrong. It was on a different plane, a plane they can no longer reach, and thus it is no more than a legend now. When you caught that elven artefact which left the mark on your hand," she looked at Wolf again, "you spoiled the ritual that your darkspawn lord was trying to perform. That artefact was changed and can no longer be used as he had intended. I believe he will now try to reach that elven plane in order to either purify the artefact or find something to replace it. That plane has many temples and many solutions, I am sure."

"So all we have to do is enter that plane before he does and stop him," Cullen summarised with sarcasm. "Do you even know what you are proposing, witch?!"

"I do not believe you have a choice," Morrigan answered coldly. "Hiding in a cage won't save you this time, Cullen."

"What..?" Cullen paled and swallowed.

"Leave him be, Morrigan," Wolf turned to her with some authority. "Cullen was one of the few to withstand that horror in the Circle Tower. No! Stop it. It's ten years on, and we're all older and wiser now."

"Older, yes, but wiser..." Morrigan sighed and shook her head. "Oh very well. Since you asked so nicely."

"We have been stuck in an impass for months," Wolf looked at everyone in turn. "We've tracked down all templar leutenants, all red lyrium mines that we could find, we eliminated various groups of Tevinter mages, we found the missing Seekers... I am sorry, Cassandra... I am sorry that we found them dead," he paused. "We've followed every lead, and none of them brought us any closer to actually finding that darkspawn lord, let alone foiling his plan. Morrigan brings a new approach. I say we must follow up and see where it leads."

...

Morrigan knew what she was talking about. She showed Wolf the crossroads with all the other eluvians there, most of them dark and inactive. She found one that would lead to a ruin with an eluvian leading into the Fade, to the Golden City.

"This is what your darkspawn lord wants," she explained. "The Golden City, the seat of the Maker. Of course, it is no longer Golden, it's been corrupted and is now known as the Black City, but it is the same place. If he reaches it, he won't need any other artefacts - from there he can rule the world. Or destroy it."

"So we have to get to that eluvian and prevent him from using it," Wolf nodded. "Good grief..."

It wasn't easy by any stretch of imagination, but they did get to the ruin that Morrigan was talking about. It had an eluvian, but it was inactive.

"So for the better!" Wolf smiled. "It isn't working! He won't be able to get through!"

"Each eluvian has a key... something that activates it... they are all different," Morrigan stepped into a pond in front of it. "I wonder what opens this one..?"

At that moment the darkspawn lord appeared. He was enraged - he had seen all the corpses of his templars littering the way.

"You defeated my templars, but your fight is only just beginning!" He bellowed and attacked. He summoned demons by the dozen, the fighting was worse than anything they'd seen before. Several Grey Wardens ran in, the lord's personal guard, their minds fully controlled by him. "Why Grey Wardens?" Wolf wondered. "Are we really better at fighting than templars?" The thought caressed his ego and gave him a second wind...

Eventually they prevailed. The lord's Grey Wardens lay dead, his demons vanished and he himself was on the ground. Wolf ran up to him and thrust a dagger through the heart. "In Death, Sacrifice," he repeated the Grey Wardens motto, fully expecting to die. By all accounts this darkspawn lord was akin an Archdemon, which meant that his spirit would leave the body behind and seek one with the taint, namely him, Wolf, who dealt the killing blow. Wolf would die, and with him also the darkspawn lord. "Hawke could not kill him because Hawke is not a Grey Warden," he told himself. "I shall do better."

Everyone saw a wisp leaving the corpse of the darkspawn lord. The wisp hovered over Wolf, then moved on. It entered a dead Grey Warden, first animating the corpse, then transforming it into darkspawn, then into a dragon, nay, a wyvern, something half-finished but good enough to take off and fly away...

...

"What just happened?" Cullen asked in a fallen voice. Everyone was stunned.

"The darkspawn lord was reborn in the body of a Grey Warden," Morrigan said in a near whisper. "Do you realise what this means?!" She cried out, looking at each of them in turn. "That he cannot be killed! Not even by a Grey Warden!"

"That explains why the first Grey Wardens locked him away in that prison," Varric nodded. "And then I had to let him out..."

"Nonsense, he manipulated people to arrange his release," Wolf shook his head. "It isn't your fault. What I want to know however, is why these Grey Wardens were so completely taken over, while others are still able to resist... What did he do to them..?" He knelt over a dead Grey Warden. "He looks... he was dying... corruption in his blood was too great... This fate awaits us all... hmm... I wonder..."

"He did not fight like a dying man," Iron Bull objected. "He was strong... too strong, perhaps..."

"Red lyrium?" Cullen also knelt over the body. "No, doesn't look like it... His corruption is black, just like the Blight..."

"Yes, this is what the taint does to us, in about fifty years..." Wolf nodded. "But it also takes away strength, not increases it... Something isn't right..."

"Let's bring him back to Skyhold," Cullen suddenly suggested. "And the other dead Grey Warden too. Give them a proper burial."

"What about the templars?" Wolf looked around. "Don't they deserve a funeral as well?"

"May be we can come back for them?"

"Hello, this is not the most important thing right now!" Morrigan interrupted Wolf's and Cullen's musings. "We have to figure out how to work this eluvian. Then you can come and go as you please!"

"Why?" Wolf turned to her. "Why do we need this eluvian?"

"Because it leads to the Golden City!"

"Nonsense, Morrigan," Wolf shook his head. "You don't have all the answers. You don't know where it leads. And if it does lead to the Golden City - or rather the Black City now - then going there will serve no purpose other than to satisfy your curiosity."

"But it's an ancient artefact! It's what your darkspawn lord wanted!" She protested. "And for that reason we must find the key, activate it, learn where it leads and then deactivate it so that he could not use it! And yes, I do want to know."

"Fine," Wolf scowled. "You figure it out while Cullen and I tend to the dead."

He walked away. He failed to kill the darkspawn lord. He killed him, but didn't kill his soul. Did it mean that he could never be killed? Did they just lose that war? Did it mean that the world would die with them? Learning the secrets of the eluvian seemed pointless and unimportant in comparison.

The elven temple was silent, death flooding the halls.





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Nov 7 2024, 02:31 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Dawn, 3E399 - Reunion

"Please stay with me here," Morrigan spoke quietly to Wolf when most people wandered off, unsure what to do next. "I... am sorry. For everything... You're right, I don't have all the answers. And we haven't talked since I arrived... I was hoping to talk after it's all over, but it doesn't look like it'll be finished any time soon."

"You've always played your cards close to your chest," Wolf smirked. "I know. I just... this battle... and that darkspawn lord rising again... I admit, I don't see a way forward."

"'Tis not plain," Morrigan nodded. "But I do have thoughts... Only I don't want to bring them all out, for all to see... Send everyone home. We can always use the eluvian at Skyhold to come here, should you wish to collect the dead... Then stay here with me, I do believe this temple has what we need... I cannot explain why I believe it."

Wolf nodded. Whatever Morrigan was thinking, it was better than nothing at all.

"Cassandra..." Wolf approached her, but she shook her head.

"We'll talk later. When... you'll have made up your mind." She smiled and walked away with the others. Wolf and Morrigan were alone in the ancient elven temple with a pond in front of an inactive eluvian.

"I've seen your son," Wolf said, trying to sound neutral. "In the garden. He said hello to me but he does not know who I am."

"Our son," Morrigan smiled. "He knows that his father is a Grey Warden, and that he is alive. He knows that Grey Wardens have duties, that they must give up their families and peaceful life. His father is away as his duty commands... Is this not true?"

"His father would have liked to keep in touch if his mother hadn't prevented him," Wolf looked at her with scorn. "I bet you omitted that little fact."

"It is better that he does not know... the whole truth... as yet," Morrigan smiled. "He is but a boy."

"Why have you been staying away? I..." Wolf looked at her and sighed. "Well, yes... I loved you... Perhaps still do..."

"Then what of Cassandra?" Morrigan's voice sounded detached, betraying no emotion.

"It's been ten years, Morrigan... I never thought to see you again... I've waited... And yes, I shall leave Thedas one day, so why start another bond?" He smirked. "But life is a messy affair, is it not? Cassandra is a remarkable woman, and... well... it's good while it lasts. But it won't last, not with her. Like you, she is driven. Once the novelty of a love affair will have worn off, she'll want to return to her duties... and I won't fit into the saddle bags."

"That is not a very flattering opinion of her," Morrigan gave a short laugh. "Or of me, for that matter."

"But that's what you two have in common," Wolf smiled. "May be that's what I like in a woman..."

"That we don't stick around?"

"That you have your own life to live."

They were strolling through the elven ruin that lay silent around them. It was peaceful. The air seemed to have cleansed itself of the horrors of death and battle, even though bodies still littered the floor. They too looked peaceful somehow.

"I left because I had to leave..." Morrigan said softly. "Not because I wanted to... I had to take care of our son... I still do. He is too young."

"What of the spirit inside him?" Wolf stopped, looking at her. "I've seen Anders struggle with Justice, and Wynne getting mixed up with Faith, and Cassandra... well... I don't think she's got a spirit inside her now, but she is no regular mortal either... It isn't a small thing to have a spirit in you. How is he holding up?"

"He... has nightmares," Morrigan looked up. "Dreams of a dragon... I am unsure... He is your son, he has your dragon blood and your taint... as well as that spirit... I thought the taint would be neutralised, but what if I was wrong..?"

"In that case the spirit inside him would grow into another Archdemon," Wolf noted. "I should be worried... Alistair thought the whole thing was a dreadful idea..."

"Alistair..." Morrigan started, but Wolf put a finger across her lips.

"Don't. Alistair is not as dumb as he likes to play up."

That touch was all it took, old flames were awakened. Morrigan didn't protest or object... The temple appeared to close in, vines and grass pushing through the stone. The temple was watching them, it seemed... watching over them even. Time itself stood still.

"Will you have another child?" Wolf smiled.

"No, carrying Kieran with that spirit inside him burned that away," she smiled with sadness. "No more children for me."

"Morrigan, when this is all over..." Wolf sat up, but Morrigan shook her head.

"We don't know what will happen then," she said with a frown. "We don't know which sacrifices will still need to be made... what will become of us, assuming that we survive... what will become of Kieran... One way or the other, when he is older, I'll need to free him of that spirit... or lose him. It is just dreams now, while he's but a boy, but he will want to live his life as a man one day... That spirit won't allow it."

"You didn't think you'd care for the child when you asked me for one," Wolf gave her a long look. "Ten years ago."

"No, I did not," Morrigan returned his gaze. "I did not think he'd be anything but an ancient spirit to me, in a boy's body... Oh how I was wrong."

"You don't have to do it alone," Wolf said firmly. "I told you this before, and I'm saying it again... Let me come with you."

"No, I can't..." she shook her head. "I can't... I must not..." she sighed. "After this, you go with Cassandra."

"I am not ready to let go of you yet... not again..."

...

They spent a long time in the temple, it felt like days. They pushed aside the world's problems and focused on each other. They would not have another opportunity like that, they both felt it.

"You must promise me to go back to living your life," Morrigan said quite seriously. "No more waiting... You will return to Tamriel one day, and there you must start over."

"I'll hold off until then, in that case," he grinned.

"Oh, you are insufferable!" She laughed.

Alas, they could not remain in that temple for ever. Eventually it was time to return to the matters at hand, and the thought of their defeat overshadowed feelings of love that they held towards each other.

"I still believe that this eluvian holds the answer," Morrigan touched the inactive glass. "The darkspawn lord came here, to this very chamber. He wasn't just chasing you... He wanted something from here. But what? Did he have the key to this eluvian? But we did not find it..."

"Do you really want to go to the Black City?" Wolf turned to her. "If this is where this eluvian leads... what good will it be? We're mortals, we cannot set foot there... we'd be dead."

"This eluvian does not lead to the Golden City," a voice behind them answered, and they spun around. A tall elf in ancient guilded armour stood there. "This eluvian conducts the wisdom of Mythal."

"Mythal?" Morrigan was eyeing him with great curiosity. "The ancient elven goddess? The protector of the people? But she is dead, along with the other elven gods."

"Yet her wisdom survives," the elf replied. "Who are you? You are intruders in this temple. What do you want here? And why has the temple not struck you down?"

"We are... intruders," Morrigan nodded. "We came here in the hope to slay the darkspawn lord who wishes to destroy the world. You've seen him, no doubt. He... well... I believe he wanted something from here. We tried to stop him."

"And you failed," the elf watched them. "Then you wish nothing from this temple for yourself?"

"We still hope to find a way to stop that darkspawn," Wolf replied. "Beyond that, we wish nothing."

"Well... this temple has so many ancient artefacts..!" Morrigan started.

"Morrigan!" Wolf cut her off quite sternly.

"What? To study and to preserve, not to sell or bargain with!" She objected.

"The temple hasn't struck you down... in fact, it gave you space... I've been watching you," the elf smiled, quite unexpectedly. "Mythal passed her judgement. One of you may partake of her wisdom, but know that it comes with a price. You will be forever bound to her will."

"Such gifts do not come without a price, indeed," Morrigan nodded. "But Mythal is dead. This warning sounds hollow. I wish to partake of the wisdom."

"I am not so sure that Mythal is really dead..." Wolf shook his head. "This could be a terrible bind, Morrigan. Worse than that of your mother."

"But if it helps us to stop that darkspawn..." She looked at Wolf and smiled. "If that wisdom helps... I am willing to take the risk. Mythal is dead."

"Then drink from the well," the elf pointed at the water of the pond at their feet. "This is the Well of Sorrows."

Morrigan gasped - she had clearly heard of such a well before. Then, without further explanations, she stepped into the pond and submerged. When she stood up again, she looked confused, but also enlightened.

"There is so much..." she started saying, but an Archdemon swooped down on them just then. A great big flaming Archdemon!

"Escape!" The elf shouted, pointing at the eluvian. It was active - the waters of the Well of Sorrows had been the key. Morrigan squeezed Wolf's hand and ran towards the eluvian, jumping into it and pulling Wolf after her. The Archdemon could not follow.

They stepped out of the eluvian at Skyhold.

"The eluvian in the elven temple did not lead to the Golden City," Wolf said, looking around. "We are home."

"The wisdom of Mythal brought us here," Morrigan nodded. "I... have ideas what to do next. The Well holds knowledge..."

"But what will stop that darkspawn from drinking from it as well?" Wolf looked worried.

"Oh no, it is just plain water now," Morrigan shook her head. "It only becomes the Well of Sorrows with Mythal's blessing... hmm... or something like that. But anyhow, he won't be able to use it."

"And you think he wanted it because..?" Wolf still wasn't convinced.

"Because he thought it would tell him how to reach the Golden City, perhaps?" Morrigan shrugged. "Perhaps like me, he thought that the eluvian behind the pond would lead him there? Does it matter?" She looked around, as if seeing the room for the first time. "We have to prepare. I need to sort through this but... yes, I have ideas... Give me a day or two, then we'll talk..."

She walked away, looking dazed and somewhat absent-minded. Not surprising, considering that her head had just been filled with a thousand years worth of knowledge. She would indeed need a day or two to work through it all.

...

When everything finally appeared to be going to plan, Morrigan's son Kieran disappeared. A maid out of breath ran up to Wolf calling him urgently to the room with the eluvian, and when he got there, she said that Kieran had stepped through and Morrigan went after him... Wolf didn't need asking twice and stepped through the portal too.

The eluvian did not lead to the crossroads or to the elven temple; instead Wolf stood among wet rocks of the Fade. He called after Morrigan, ran around a bit and soon found her looking lost and frightened.

"Kieran ran into the eluvian," she said through tears. "I do not understand... He's never done such a thing... He is such a serious, studious boy... Oh... What am I going to do..?"

"First of all you calm down, I am here for you," Wolf hugged her. "Now, we'll look for Kieran together. If I am finally allowed to meet my son..."

Morrigan smiled and nodded, her usual wit and sarcasm cast aside as a mask.

"How is it possible that this eluvian changed destination?" Wolf asked in an attempt to get Morrigan's mind away from imagining the worst possible scenarios for Kieran. "I thought they were locked in."

"And so did I," Morrigan shrugged. "But obviously it isn't the case... No one knows for sure how eluvians work. We only have fragments of information..."

They walked through the Fade, but Kieran was no where to be found.

"He's just a boy, you know... my son..." Morrigan started sobbing again.

"I think the spirit inside him led him here, I think this is why he could activate the eluvian," Wolf pointed out. "But wait... I hear voices!"

They came to a clearing and found Flemeth and Kieran talking. It was clearly Flemeth, but dressed in armour, and with horns like a dragon... "She is a dragon," Wolf reminded himself.

"Mother!!!" Morrigan ran up to them. "You kidnapped my son!!!" She shot a spell at her.

"I did no such thing, girl," with a wave of her hand Flemeth cancelled the spell. "We were expecting you. Aren't you going to introduce Kieran? I think it is time."

"How dare you!!!" Morrigan was furious.

"Do it, or I will." Flemeth remained calm, she knew her daughter well.

Morrigan took a moment to compose herself, then spoke in a much calmer tone.

"Kieran... this is the Warden I told you about..." She walked over to Kieran. "This is your father."

"I knew it," Kieran nodded and smiled. "The moment I saw you, I knew it. But mother didn't want us to meet..." He shot a glance at Morrigan.

"Morrigan has strange ideas about family," Flemeth smirked. "I suppose it is my fault."

Wolf walked over to Kieran and sat on a rock.

"A Grey Warden breastplate," he noticed a griffin crest that Kieran wore around his neck. "I am sorry I wasn't there for you all these years, son."

"You couldn't..." Morrigan said softly. "It could not be done... You had duties... And besides, I was afraid..."

"You - afraid?" Wolf looked up. "Of what?"

"Of darkspawn corruption," she said in a near whisper. "Kieran's spirit... the spirit inside him... had to remain pure..."

"And I carry the taint..." Wolf nodded and sighed. "I understand it now."

"I can sense your taint," Kieran said and touched his face. "I can sense the taint in all Grey Wardens at Skyhold... Am I in danger?" He looked at Morrigan who became visibly worried.

"Would you like me to take that spirit away?" Flemeth asked him.

"What..? How..?" Morrigan stumbled.

"There was once a young woman wronged by a wicked man, it is all true. I met her crying her eyes out. We talked and she allowed me in. My first host. There were many young women after her, lending me their bodies. I am Mythal." Flemeth smiled. "Or rather, what's left of her."

"Mythal..." Morrigan mouthed the name almost without a sound. "I spent my days seeking out ancient artefacts, unravelling their mysteries... But the greatest mystery of all has always been right before me... my own mother..."

"The very same!" Flemeth smiled. "But you were never in danger from me, my daughter. I could never touch an unwilling spirit like yours."

"And that is why you didn't kill her when I asked you to," Morrigan looked at Wolf. "You knew."

"Flemeth told me you were in no danger and I believed her," Wolf nodded.

"What now, grandmother?" Kieran turned to Flemeth. "Can you make the dreams go away? I don't want them."

"I can take that spirit away, indeed," Flemeth nodded. "But Morrigan will forever remain bound to my will. Or I can take the boy with me, and you will be free from me forever, my daughter. You choose." She looked at Morrigan with a question.

"Mythal..." Morrigan was still stunned by the discovery. "No, no, Kieran must be free. I... I submit to your will."

Flemeth waved her hand and a silvery wisp escaped from under Kieran's Grey Warden breastplate and entered Flemeth's body.

"No more dreams, child," she smiled. "Go with your mother."

Flemeth vanished. Kieran ran to Morrigan and she hugged him, crying.

"Will you let me stay with you now?" Wolf touched her shoulder. "My taint is no longer a threat to our son."

"But my bond to Mythal is!" Morrigan exclaimed. "No, I cannot drag you down that path with me! She won't touch Kieran, I am certain, but you will never be safe! Please... Mythal is not a benevolent goddess!"

"Mythal the Protector..?" Wolf didn't understand. "All-Mother? Not a benevolent goddess?"

"People fear her too," Morrigan nodded. "There are legends... She knows no mercy. She is Justice, in a way."

"And mercy is not just," Wolf sighed. "And you think that my presence..."

"Anyone's presence," Morrigan corrected him. "Anyone at my side... except Kieran... is in danger. We... we've had our time," she smiled. "Now we must walk our separate paths. I shall help you defeat your darkspawn nemesis... I now have the means, more than you know. But after that I shall leave. And Kieran..."

"Take care of your mother, won't you," Wolf spoke to him and Kieran nodded, hugging her around the middle.

"I see you in him, my friend," Morrigan said through tears as Wolf kissed her one last time. "He's got your eyes."

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Dawn, 3E399 - Breaking the rules

Wolf, Morrigan and Kieran stepped out of the eluvian at Skyhold. The room was empty and the door was closed. They would walk to the door, open it and walk out of the room separated, following their own paths. That was what Morrigan asked of Wolf, and that was what he promised.

"I cannot do it," he turned to her, taking her in his embrace. "I know I promised, but I cannot do it. Let's not debate this..." He kissed her. He expected protests, objections, retaliation even... but none followed.

"'Tis not what I wanted..." was all she said. "But don't you see... I stayed away for too long. You made a new bond. And what will you do when your Legion calls you back? You know I won't be able to follow. Mythal won't let me."

"You worry too much," Wolf shook his head. "Let it go. I am staying with you... or you with me... whichever."

...

"I always knew you were not from the Free Marches, but I guess I never bothered to ask for the details," Cassandra took another sip of her wine. They were sitting in Wolf's quarters, one of the few sections of Skyhold with some privacy. Wolf told her everything about himself, how he came to Thedas, how he became a Grey Warden and fought the Blight, how he survived the Archdemon and what they were doing at the conclave in Haven when he got that mark on his hand. He told her about Kieran and Flemeth, too. "Had I known... oh... what was I thinking..?"

"About what?" After so much talk Wolf could not decide which part of his story caused most upset.

"About you... about us... about me allowing myself to... ugh..."

"To what?" Wolf refilled her glass. "I did not lie about my feeling towards you. I still think you are a remarkable woman worthy every ounce of romance... And I still feel the same."

"I am upset with myself for failing in my duties, not for the time we had together," Cassandra smiled. "That was wonderful... it still is, aren't we friends?"

"Always will be."

"I am too old to have children, I am too old for marriage or family life... I am too set in my ways, too... I am a Seeker of Truth, and my Order is in shambles. What would you do in my place?"

"What I will do once we're done saving the world: return to my duties. My Order is in shambles too."

"The Grey Wardens."

"None other."

"And then? When will you go back to Tamriel?" Cassandra was not taking her eyes off Wolf, seeing him for the first time for what he really was rather than what she longed him to be - a prisoner at first, a guilty party, and then a humble noble from the Free Marches who'd follow her where her duty would take her... But Wolf was a Grey Warden, a Warden-Commander with duties of his own. He was also an Agent of the Imperial Legion of a far away land... to which he would return one day... at least that was the plan. In either role he did not fit in her saddle bags.

"I will return to Tamriel when I am recalled," Wolf shrugged. "I don't know when that will be. It could be years still... It will likely be years. All I am hearing now is orders to maintain position. Stay here until further notice. We've slain the Archdemon and we'll defeat this darkspawn lord the same as we've defeated his predecessors, but the Blight doesn't end there. You don't have to be a Grey Warden to sense it."

Cassandra nodded.

"There's work to be done... much work."

The truth of the matter was that none of them was that young anymore. Wolf turned fifty, Cassandra was in her late forties, Cullen, Morrigan, Anders, Alistair, who were in their twenties during the Blight, were now in their mid to late thirties, with life experience worth several lifetimes over... It had been a long and bloody war.

"Leliana will likely become the next Divine," Cassandra turned the conversation to politics. "She will free the mages and rule with a dagger at everyone's backs."

"I am not sure whether this world is ready for free mages..." Wolf squinted. "When I first came here, I was appalled at Circle Towers and the treatment of mages. Locking them up as prisoners is definitely not the way. But I have since seen so many demons, that I am now concerned about the other side of the coin. We don't get demons in Tamriel... at least not in such numbers."

"The Veil must be strong over your world," Cassandra nodded. "And is it true that you believe that everyone has magic?"

"It's true, but not everyone has the same measure of talent," Wolf smiled. "Most people can't do much at all. I can barely cast a simple healing spell despite all the training that our battlemages bestowed upon us... I am not a mage."

They talked a while longer. They had a lot in common, yet clearly each had a different path to walk.

...

"We shall be ready to face the darkspawn lord with his dragon whenever he appears," Morrigan said in her usual self-assured tone during a war council meeting. She was now a permanent member. "The Well of Sorrows granted me knowledge and physical means to neutralise the dragon. You will only need to kill the lord himself." She looked at everyone around the table in turn. "It won't be easy, but it halves the job. They both have to be killed independently, they share a single soul."

"Meaning what exactly?" Cassandra squinted. She disliked demonology.

"Meaning that the dragon does not have a soul of its own, it has no spirit," Morrigan explained. "It is a vessel for the lord's soul, a second body if you will. If you only kill one, his spirit will continue living in the other."

"Plus, he can be reborn in any darkspawn or in any Grey Warden," Cullen noted darkly.

"Not in any Grey Warden," Morrigan smiled. "They have to be under his control. It's blood magic, but it cannot be performed mid-battle. This has to be prepared. What he can do however is disrupt Grey Wardens through their taint... But even there, I believe they're learning to resist him."

"It doesn't matter, we are not taking Grey Wardens with us," Leliana cut her off.

"Your Lord Inquisitor is a Grey Warden." Morrigan looked at her and smirked. "He may wish to bring a few friends."

"You are coming - that's more than enough!" Leliana hissed.

"Hey, I'm standing right here!" Wolf finally intervened. "We shall bring the best of our forces, and that includes some Grey Wardens. As well as some mages, templars, warriors, archers and scouts. The rest will be in reserve. We don't even know where the fight will be! Or when!"

"So what - we just sit and wait for it?!" Cullen retorted with anger.

"We don't have any choice," Wolf nodded, sounding grave. "Cullen will command our combined forces. I shall take a small group to take point. As always. Cassandra and Morrigan - with me. Fiona will lead the mages... No, scratch that. Solas will lead the mages."

"You don't trust Fiona," Cullen looked up.

"Not a jot," Wolf shook his head. "I would leave her behind altogether, if only I could." He paused and sighed. "Cullen will handle the rest."

He shook his head and turned to go. Waiting was the hardest part of all.

"Dismissed." Josephine said and everyone turned around. "You forgot to say 'dismissed', Lord Inquisitor," she smiled. "Your forces await your command."

...

"I don't know how long we have to wait," Wolf was contemplating the mead in his mug. "I can't even get drunk in case that bastard attacks while I'm out cold!"

"We have means of waking up drunken recruits," Anders laughed between hiccups. "Worry not my friend, you won't miss the party!"

Wolf was spending most of his time with the Grey Wardens. In all fairness, he didn't have much to do, and waiting was unnerving. He made daily rounds of the troops, speaking to each group to keep up the morale, but he no longer was masking his colours. He was a Grey Warden and he was leading the fight against darkspawn, as was his duty. The Chantry wasn't happy with that, but there were no clerics going into battle.

Yet they didn't have to wait long. Barely a week passed since the last war council meeting when Wolf woke up with a distinct feeling that an attack was very close. Morrigan woke up too.

"Do you feel it?" He sat up. "He is gathering strength. The same feeling like before the Archdemon's attack. It will be another day or two, no more."

"I do not feel it, I am not a Grey Warden," Morrigan smiled. "But if so..."

"Kieran."

"What if..."

"...we fall." Wolf nodded. "I know. Grey Wardens can raise him, we have the means. Unless you prefer mages?"

"Grey Wardens," Morrigan nodded. "Assuming at least some of you survive..."

When Wolf finally got dressed and stepped into the courtyard, he found the entire contingent of Grey Wardens sober and ready for battle. Everyone had had the same dream.

"It's today," Wolf decided. "Tell Cullen."

Still, they didn't know what exactly was going to happen. Some speculated that an army of demons would attack Skyhold; others expected an army of darkspawn; yet others predicted dragons. But none of that occurred. Instead a world-shattering explosion was heard some distance away, and a new gaping hole in the sky was opened, much larger than the one they worked so hard to seal. Fade itself was pouring into the mountains, huge chunks of rock suspended in the air. The darkspawn lord once again blew up Haven.

...

Cullen was in his element. All the preparations now paid off - his troops were ready to march. Warriors, archers, mages, Grey Wardens, templars - everyone was there. They didn't have far to go either, all those portals and shortcuts they'd built, they were all paying off.

"I would have thought he'd be more creative," Varric joked along the way. "But no - he went for the very same place! Blew up the same Chantry in Haven as the first time! Why, blowing up Chantries is becoming a national pastime!"

"There is a reason for it though," Solas joined in on a much more serious note. "He was building a complex ritual when Wolf interrupted him the first time around. All the trappings of that are still in place... no, we could not remove them. He is clearly using them again, but now his ritual is changed... Pray that it takes a long time to prepare!"

Everyone focused on the march, there was little conversation. Solas caught up with Wolf when they were out of earshot of the others.

"Why did you want me to lead the mages?" He asked. "Not why not Fiona... I can see that. But why me? We have not been on the best terms recently."

"I trust you to fight for us," Wolf shot him a glance. "Whatever reservations I might have about you, they are not about this fight. And I cannot say the same about Fiona."

"You have reservations about me? Really?" Solas smiled.

"It's always the quiet ones that you have to watch," Wolf smirked. "You are many centuries old, Solas. We are toddlers compared to you. You have your own agenda, and I cannot even guess what it is. But I can see that defeating this darkspawn is a part of your plan, and so I am grateful to have you with us now."

"Toddlers... You humble me. I think I needed that," Solas smiled. "You are right. This darkspawn must die, our goals are in perfect agreement on that. And what comes after... is a worry for another day."

...

The battle was grand. Morrigan turned into a dragon and engaged the false Archdemon of the darkspawn lord. The rest of them battled demons, darkspawn and whatever else the lord pulled out of the Fade. It was complete chaos. No one could tell what was going on or when it would be finished.

But finish it did. Wolf knew that he could not kill that lord even at the cost of his own life. He didn't have a plan but he did have knowledge - pieces of information that Morrigan conveyed to him after she drank from the Well of Sorrows. The thing that gave Wolf a mark on his hand was an elven sphere. It had the power to tear down the Veil, but that power had now been split between the sphere and the mark. It was no longer enough. It appeared that tearing down the Veil was what the lord wanted, however it still remained unclear why. Regardless, tearing down the Veil would destroy the world, and Wolf could not allow it. The lord had that sphere with him, he drew power from it, and so when he was finally defeated, when he lay on the ground, Wolf did not strike the final blow. Instead, he picked up the sphere and flung it into the hole in the sky.

The breach closed. The darkspawn lord and his dragon were dead and not reborn. The sphere fell back to the ground, shattered. Yet the mark on Wolf's hand remained, burning as bright as ever, sending searing pain through his entire body.

He dropped to his knees trying to control the pain. Morrigan lay in a pool of blood, back in her human form and much the worse for wear. They won, but at what cost?

"The sphere is broken," Solas knelt over it. "It was all for naught..."

"What..?" Wolf could barely speak through pain.

"This is what I hoped to recover..." Solas turned to him. "It was too much to hope for though. I should have been honest with myself. It was all a grand plan that went terribly wrong..."

"What was..?" Wolf tried to rise but he was all but paralysed by the pain.

"You've met Mythal, did she not tell you?" Solas looked at him.

"She just said... The Blight was only the beginning..."

"The Blight is over, has been for ten years now."

"The Blight is not over," Wolf shook his head. "The threat to this world still exists... I know... I am a Grey Warden."

"Grey Wardens were always going to be trouble," Solas frowned. "Ever since they drank Archdemon's blood... And you with your dragon blood are more trouble still. But I shall relieve your pain." Solas waved his hand and the glow in Wolf's hand went out. "You were right to doubt me. When you touched my sphere, you became bound to my will... I am Fen'Herel, the Dread Wolf."

"An elven god like Mythal..." Wolf breathed out, the pain vanishing as the mark stopped glowing.

"Indeed, here in the body of Solas," he bowed slightly. "Only I don't need to change bodies. Mythal was killed, her spirit fractured, only her essence survived. I am whole, however. This body is now my own. Solas is long dead. I walk in the Fade as well as in Mundus. I aim to raise the elves out of slavery and oppression and rebuild the world the way it was before humans existed. And to that end I have to destroy it first. That sphere... was meant for that. To tear down the Veil. Now I shall have to start again... Your mark serves no further purpose, and so I removed it. But your will remains bound to me. In your world you know me by the name of Hircine..."

"The Prince of the Hunt," Wolf nodded. "I didn't know you were an elf."

"Solas was an elf," Fen'Herel corrected him. "The statues of Hircine in Tamriel are... somewhat exaggerated," he chuckled. "But I do like the horns. Yet isn't it strange that the Master of Wolves should look like a stag..?"

...

Skyhold was filled with guests. People fought for the invitations. Celebrations of the great victory were lavish, the Inquisition grew rich and powerful. Wolf couldn't wait to get out.

"Lady Morrigan regretfully cannot attend," Josephine repeated the same phrase to yet another guest. "Yes, she is alive but her wounds were too great."

"You can change it to 'Lady Morrigan and Lord Trevelyan'", Wolf said to her apologetically. "I am sorry but all the noise is giving me a tremendous headache..."

"Well, it is not what I wanted to hear, but I understand..." Josephine sighed. "You can slip away through the kitchens."

He did. Leaving the party behind, he made his way into the guest room where Morrigan and Kieran were staying and where he'd been sleeping since they came out of the eluvian. He found Morrigan just sitting there, Kieran on her lap, asleep.

"Time for bed, I think," Wolf helped her move the sleepy boy to his bed. "We are both alive. The rest can wait till tomorrow. I told Josephine I had a headache - I didn't lie."

"Let's lock the door," Morrigan threw on a bolt. "I... I am uneasy."

"Not surprising," Wolf smiled. "Dragons are not just beasts... Besides, your dragon form looked exactly like your mother's."

"Well... I guess you are right..." Morrigan sighed. "I'll get used to it, I suppose..."

"When we leave here, we should go to Soldier's Peak," Wolf grew somber. "I want to make arrangements for Kieran. He will likely be a mage, Avernus can teach him. The Drydens will take him in, should we both... be indisposed. This cannot wait."

"What happened?" Morrigan sat up.

"Solas is Fen'Herel, the Dread Wolf. The sphere and the mark were his. I touched it; my will is bound to him the same as yours is bound to Mythal."

"I am sorry," Morrigan's voice fell. "I... The Well warned me of him but I did not make the connection..."

"That he was Solas? Don't worry, it would not have changed a thing."

They did not talk for much longer, there was not much to say. They fell asleep in a close embrace. Peace was ephemeral, but at least they had each other.

[Lena Wolf]

Second Seed, 3E399 - 3E406 - An end of an era

It had been good two to three months before Wolf could finally leave Skyhold. As Lord Inquisitor, he could not just drop everything and run, it wasn't his style. Ferelden Grey Wardens led by Oghren set off to Vigil Keep, taking Morrigan and Kieran with them. Oghren promised to personally deliver them to Soldier's Peak which was on the way, in spite of Zevran's protests that his own presence would be fully sufficient. Wolf was thankful to Oghren though - Morrigan was still weak after the battle and they had Kieran to think of too.

Back at Skyhold, the question of Orlaisian Grey Wardens still remained open. Their Warden-Commander Clarel fell in battle, but not before she severely decimated their Order and cast a long and dark shadow on all Grey Wardens by unwittingly binding her Wardens to the darkspawn lord. Many people saw it as proof that Grey Wardens were too unreliable and not worth the bother. Of course those were not the people who lived through the Blight in Ferelden ten years before. The Grey in Ferelden stood strong; the Grey elsewhere faced suspicion and doubt.

"What will become of these Wardens?" Alistair was watching remaining Wardens at Skyhold tend to their gear. "They have no where to go."

"They can return to their headquarters in Orlais, wherever that is, they can elect a new Warden-Commander, or else the Head Quarters can appoint one, I'm sure... or at least send an accountant," he smirked, recalling how the Head Quarters sent them an accountant when the Ferelden chapter was re-established after the Blight. "They can also try to join another chapter," he shot a glance at Alistair.

"Yeah, an accountant would really help them out," Alistair nodded, the sarcasm not lost on him. "Are you thinking what I am thinking?"

"Depends what you're thinking..."

Wolf got up and walked over to the Wardens.

"How many of you survived?" He asked. "Of the Orlaisian chapter. Have you thought of electing a new Warden-Commander?"

"After Warden-Commander Clarel?" One of them looked up. "Hardly. She went wrong in the end, but she served for a long time before that... She was a remarkable woman. It will be hard to fill her shoes."

"You have to decide for yourselves," Wolf looked into their faces. "Wait for your orders from the First Warden-Commander... or come with us. Join the Ferelden chapter. But beware that I never swore an oath to him. We are not breaking away from the Order, but we intend to cleanse it before we can rebuild. I believe corruption runs deep, I think we'll find the Blight at the heart of the Order once we go digging. Joining us is unsafe, but we intend to find out exactly what happened with Clarel..." He paused, waiting for questions, but no one spoke. "Anyone who wishes to come with us, should leave their names with Alistair in the next few days. After that we march."

People nodded but again no one spoke, and Wolf left to attend to other business.

...

"You can't just disband the Inquisition!" Josephine was livid when Wolf declared during their next war council meeting that he, Lord Inquisitor, would end the Inquisition. "We have an army and a standing to maintain! Nobility everywhere depends on us! As do the people! The Chantry too!"

"The Inquisition was set up as a temporary organisation with a very specific aim," Wolf pointed out, putting the charter tome on the table. "The aim was to avert the end of the world. We've done it. All other problems that we're seeing, are everyday problems, they are in remit of the kings and queens of the lands in question! The Inquisition must step aside."

"The Inquisition could be merged with the Chantry," Leliana stepped forward. "We could use the army!"

"I'm sure you could!" Wolf scowled. "Which is why it isn't going to happen!"

"And who decides this, anyway?" Cassandra opened the writ. "Wait... here - it is quite clear. 'Lord Inquisitor decides on the fate of the Inquisition.' So then... by our Lord's decree, we are disbanded."

"Noooo!!"

Wolf watched the four founding members argue with each other one last time. Eventually they calmed down.

"Grey Wardens will be leaving in a few days, some with me and others... well... by themselves, I guess," he scratched the back of his head. "The mages are leaving for Ferelden to set up a new College in the old Circle Tower... which is ironic. The templars are coming with them... to protect... something or other... I really have no idea... The rest of you... err... whatever... I am no longer your Lord!" He smiled brightly. "If anyone wants me, I'll be away fighting darkspawn in the Deep Roads!" He beamed at them all. "See you around."

He left the room. There would be still time to say proper goodbyes to each and every person at Skyhold, but he was done with war council meetings once and for all. "Lord Trevelyan no longer!" He smirked. Of course, that wasn't strictly true, but House Trevelyan wisely left him alone, because as a Grey Warden, he would have left his prior life behind at the Joining.

"Celebrating your new-found freedom?" Dorian saw him walking with a smile on his face. "Done with politics for now, I take it?"

"Finally!" Wolf grinned. "And you?"

"I'll be returning to Tevinter," Dorian looked away. "I shall likely be in politics sooner or later... I cannot believe I'm saying this... But if I want my homeland to change, I have to get down to business..." He sighed. "And since this is a goodbye, let me give you a present," he handed Wolf a polished gem. "A talking gem. The height of Tevinter magic at your fingertips. I don't know if it will work in Tamriel, but here in Thedas... Just touch it when you want to talk, and I'll answer. I might even call on you myself... Isn't it fun?" He laughed, but Wolf noticed apprehension in his tone.

"I like it," he said warmly. "What a wonderful thought! Be well, Dorian, and don't let them bore you too much. And I have a feeling, this gem will be used more than you hope... especially when... ah, but let's not talk business today! I'll call you, of that you can be certain!"

...

Vigil Keep once again was full of life. Almost all Orlaisian Wardens came to Ferelden, with only a few staying behind. There was talk that the ones that didn't follow Wolf, might make a move against him, so no one was surprised to learn that they went to the Head Quarters to join the chapter there. Wolf didn't think it important enough to keep tabs on them all and quickly lost them from view. His goal was now to find the cause of Clarel's actions, to understand how some Grey Wardens could be controlled by the darkspawn lord and how to avoid it in the future. Wolf did not believe that the lord was unique.

Meanwhile Morrigan was growing more and more reclusive. The change was gradual, she was spending much time in the library of Vigil Keep, and no one thought anything of it since she'd always had a thirst for knowledge. But Wolf noticed that although she was not pulling away from him or Kieran, she was somehow becoming detached from the worldly life, focusing on whatever was going on in her head. Sometimes she would be gone for several days, and people would report sightings of a dragon on mountain peaks.

Kieran started showing magic abilities a year or two later, he was twelve or thirteen, a typical age when magic would awaken. Morrigan started to teach him, then suggested that Avernus should take over.

"We can move to Soldier's Peak, at least for a time," she said. "I want a word with Avernus... I think Kieran should be taught by someone besides his mother."

Wolf didn't argue, but he felt that something else was afoot.

Soldier's Peak was a quiet place, away from main roads, yet close to several towns, and so the Drydens still lived there and used it as a hub for their trade. They had several children of their own, some close to Kieran in age.

"You can leave Kieran with us," Levi Dryden told Wolf one day, finding him staring into his mead. "That's what troubles you, isn't it? You have to leave and Morrigan will fly away. Kieran is still too young to be on his own, but here he will be with us."

"Morrigan will fly away?" Wolf gave him a long look. "So you noticed."

"Hard not to notice a dragon," Levi smirked. "But I don't mean it badly. It's just... that's what she is."

"Yeah... Mythal..."

"I remember talk... Flemeth... I met her," Levi said quietly. "During the Blight. The Dalish elves always knew who she was, they told me. I see her again now."

"Morrigan isn't Flemeth," Wolf scowled. "A different woman entirely."

"Yes, she is your wife, you'd know..."

"She's not... we never..."

"Not in the Chantry... but what does it matter?" Levi refilled his mead. "She isn't Flemeth, but she is Mythal."

...

Several more years passed. The Ferelden chapter of the Grey Wardens Order under the command of Warden-Commander Asgarsen made a name for itself both within the Order and outside of it. They did not break ranks but they exposed the bureaucratic core of the Head Quarters, their links to Tevinter mages that served the darkspawn lord, exchanges of favours and the sacrifice of the Orlaisian chapter and Warden-Commander Clarel. Yes, the Wardens in Orlais were hearing the Call of the Black City which plunged them into despair - that was the doing of the darkspawn lord. But the "solution" to this, the Magister who came to offer them demons to strengthen their ranks with the aim to put an end to all Blights... that Magister was sent with a full consent of the Head Quarters in exchange for favours too mundane and vulgar to mention. Corruption came in many forms indeed.

Appalled, the Order of the Grey reeled from the revelations. Heads rolled, new Commanders were appointed... but Wolf remained unconvinced. The new First Warden-Commander granted Fereldens a special status of independence in recognition of their services to the Order... or perhaps with the aim of keeping them out of the Head Quarters from then on. Wolf did not mind. He sensed that his time in Thedas might be coming to a close and he wanted to wrap up his affairs without rush.

...

Wolf received orders to return to Tamriel in 3E405, or the year 9:48 Dragon in terms of the Thedas calendar. He was given discretion to return within 12 months. The Legion preferred to see his affairs closed with care, new agents were sent to replace him, and Wolf felt that it was unlikely he would ever set foot in Thedas again.

"Kieran is turning seventeen this year," Wolf showed his orders to Morrigan. "Another year or two and he'll be ready for a life of his own."

"He's ready now, if need be," Morrigan smiled. "But perhaps too young to become a Grey Warden as yet."

"I was younger when I enlisted in the Legion..." Wolf nodded. "He can become a recruit. They won't push with the Joining until they think he's strong enough."

"Someone will need to watch over him though..." Morrigan took Wolf's hand. "Because I too will be gone."

"You hear the Call."

"It's nearly time," she nodded. "Mythal has duties to her people."

"But you are not an elf," Wolf objected.

"It's not just elves I have duties to," Morrigan smiled. "Dark times are coming. I have to prepare."

They fell silent, watching each other for a while. Then Morrigan spoke.

"What of Fen'Herel? What does he want of you?"

"I don't know," Wolf shrugged. "Nothing to date. I do have dreams of wolves... like I am becoming one."

"That's in your name," Morrigan smiled.

"That's... no, it's not the same... somehow."

"Your blood has dragon blood, darkspawn taint and now Fen'Herel's magic... I would not be at all surprised if you just turned into a toad without me even trying," Morrigan laughed. "How is it that you are not a mage, I cannot fathom!"

"I like mages though," Wolf grinned. "My best friends are mages... my wife... my son... just not me," he stroked her cheek.

"You must promise me, promise me again, that when you are back in Tamriel, you will start over," Morrigan said quite gravely. "Kieran will be fine with the Wardens, and I... well, I cannot follow. You must not stop living on that account."

"I may not have that many years left to live," Wolf pointed out. "I am nearing sixty already."

"Nonsense! Don't you see? Your life is only just beginning," Morrigan looked up. "You will not die at eighty like most humans. You will live on. For centuries."

"No, the taint will kill me," Wolf shook his head. "It is the fate of all Grey Wardens."

"Except Avernus, it seems," Morrigan smiled.

"Except Avernus," Wolf nodded. "Well... we'll see, I guess. I've been a Warden for twenty years... some are starting to hear the Call at this stage. But the only call that I hear, is that of a Great Wolf howling at the moon..."

...

Wolf Asgarsen returned to Tamriel some time in 3E406. He was appointed the Commander of the Second Imperial Legion stationed in Falkreath. True to his word, Zevran came with him, and after some introductions, he took a few jobs for the Legion before vanishing to live his own life. No one knew whether he joined the Dark Brotherhood or the Morag Tong, but everyone feared his blade. And perhaps this ambiguity was entirely intentional. He visited Wolf often enough, stayed a while, then vanished again. Wolf's soldiers got used to seeing a white-haired elf come and go at his leisure. His armour and blades were superb, and faint perfume of almonds and peonies briefly hung in the air where he'd been. Some joked about it, but a more deadly poison had not been invented, and jokes quickly stopped, along with any speculations of his relationship with the Commander or who it was that he worked for.

One night Zevran brought a woman with him, quite literally carrying her over his shoulder. It looked like she'd been in a fight and lost - her armour was dark with stale blood and her breath was shallow.

"I have a favour to ask," Zevran put her down. "An apprentice. She shows promise if not restraint. Letting her die would be a waste, I reckon. She'll recover, if not left in the cold for too long, and your fort is the only place to bring her before she breathes her last..."

"Barracks are down the hall," Wolf signaled some soldiers to take her there. "What's her name?"

"Lillian Delacour, a mage," Zevran replied. "Lily. Still too young for this life, too hot-headed... Well. I should be going. I'll be in touch."

He left, and still no one knew whether Lily was an apprentice of Zevran or of his target... or perhaps of someone entirely unrelated.

[Lena Wolf]

We now move into the next chapter of the Dragon Age story, and a new game - Dragon Age: The Veilguard. This game just only came out last week. Thus, the same as I've done with Dragon's Dogma 2, I am not going to follow the plot beyond the introductory scene which is necessary to understand the setting. My opinion of the game so far... will probably become clear from the story. Still, I am sufficiently curious about it to continue playing.

This game, the same as its predecessors, gives us a ready-made persona to play. That is, you can choose one of several ready-made personas. This is of course not good enough for me, so I change my character's backstory freely, which also reflects in his choices and attitudes. And since I am not really following the plot here, we are likely to have adventures that were not foreseen by the actual game.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Second Seed, 3E410 - Blondie

"I am here for you, Blondie," Varric walked into the mess hall of Vigil Keep. "It's time you cleaned up your mess."

"Sod off, Varric," Anders grimaced and returned to his meal. "It wasn't me and you know it."

"I know. But I need your help. Trouble is afoot." Varric sat next to him and poured himself some mead. "It's serious, kid. Solas is planning to destroy the world."

"Mmm..." Anders pretended not to listen. "Nothing to do with me."

"The world! I am not joking."

"Ask Hawke."

"He... He isn't the man he used to be..." Varric shuffled his feet. "Lyrium. The blue kind."

"I thought only templars took it?" Anders shot him a glance. "Hawke isn't a templar."

"And neither is he a mage..." Varric sighed. "He... well, he cannot help, let's just leave it at that."

"So why come to me?" Anders sat back in his chair.

"You've dealt with weird stuff... spirits and demons, the Fade, blood magic, the lot... and darkspawn... weird darkspawn... You qualify," Varric beamed at him.

"For what?" Anders looked straight at Varric. "Speak plainly."

"Solas is building up towards a ritual to tear down the Veil," Varric lowered his voice. "In Minrathous. We have to stop him."

"How?"

"I was thinking to talk, in fact," Varric smiled.

"With your crossbow," Anders smirked, noticing it under the table.

"Well... It's backup."

"This is madness, Varric. You cannot just talk to a god."

"Solas is not a god."

"Solas was Fen'Herel last time I checked. The Dread Wolf."

"But he is also Solas, my friend," Varric wasn't giving up.

"You are kidding yourself."

"If so, we all are ass-deep in demon dung," Varric shook his head. "Or just dead. Whichever. I need you, Anders."

"Well, you didn't call me Blondie... It must be bad," Anders smirked. "I am so going to regret it... I just know it."

...

Anders had never been to Minrathous before. The city was grand, but also oppressive and controlling. Could buildings be oppressive? It seemed they could.

Solas was indeed setting up something huge using tall buildings in the city. The Veil seemed to gather in a fold around him, it was shimmering green, and people wondered what the strange lights were. Tevinter had most amazing magic, but this was beyond anything people had ever seen. A figure of a man was visible on a high platform, a dark silhouette against luminous sky. Something was glittering in his hand, he moved like a conductor during an orchestral performance.

"There," Varric pointed him out. "I'll go and talk to him... Let's hope he listens..."

...

Varric was on the ground. "He didn't listen," he looked up. Solas had flung him from that platform back to where Anders was waiting. Varric's crossbow was shattered, Varric's leg also. Solas was continuing with his ritual.

"You've got to stop him, kid," Varric gave Anders a hard stare. "Or else..."

"Well..." Anders sighed. "Since everyone already thinks I blew up the Chantry... Might as well do it."

For all the work that Solas had put in to set up his ritual, it was remarkable how many weak points it had. A good push against one of the columns holding a focus crystal was enough to topple it and disrupt the whole setup. A huge explosion followed leaving half of Minrathous in ruin. Anders stood in the Fade.

"What have you done, you idiot!!!" Solas flew at him, enraged. "You brought down the end of the world!!!"

"No, it was your idea!" Anders retorted, realising that Solas couldn't actually touch him. An invisible wall was between them.

"I was trying to restore the world!"

"By destroying it?!"

"Well, yes, some sacrifices were required," Solas conceded. "But I have to free the elves! The world you know was built upon their bones!"

"Let's take it from the top then," Anders folded his arms. "A little bird told me it was you who created the Veil. Someone said that this world used to be one with the Fade, and that the elves used the Fade to keep their collective memories and wisdom. When you created the Veil, you single-handedly destroyed the elves as they no longer knew who they were."

"Yes, this is true," Solas nodded gravely. "I miscalculated. I did not realise what the Veil would do to the elves. I was trying to free them though!"

"Oh?"

"The elven gods... They were no gods! They were people, mages. Powerful mages who ruled the world. They invented the Blight, the corruption... in order to control the other elves. It made them obedient. So many were enslaved, sacrificed to the experimentation... I sought to save the people!" Solas exclaimed with pathos. "I created the Veil and trapped the false gods in the Fade so that the people could live freely in Mundus!"

"Well, that explains why darkspawn are drawn to the 'old gods' as we call them... But it doesn't explain the dragons. Darkspawn is always led by an Archdemon, a dragon with a soul of an old god, now corrupted. This doesn't add up with your elven mages, Solas."

"Grey Wardens were always going to be trouble!" Solas scowled. "You know too much!" He paced about. "Alright. There were indeed old gods. The dragons. Dragons are immortal, their souls are immortal. They are no gods though."

"Define 'god'." Anders was extremely skeptical. The whole story made no sense.

"A god is an immortal being much more powerful than regular people," Solas shrugged. "Immortality is a requirement, and this is what those elven mages didn't have."

"So why did you not just kill them?" Anders squinted. "Why create the Veil instead?"

"Because they gained immortality by then..."

"You make no sense at all, Solas." Anders was losing patience.

"Alright, alright, I don't really know how they did it... They captured dragons and subdued their souls somehow. Took on their immortality. And by doing so, they became gods. I could not kill them, so I created the Veil."

"And now you want to tear it down," Anders decided to move on. "Wouldn't it release those awful gods and undo whatever protection the Veil was giving the world?"

"My plan was to put up a new Veil just around their prison," Solas scowled. "Just a small portion of the Fade, not the whole Fade like now. But you disrupted it! That explosion tore a breach large enough to allow the gods to escape! If they are now burning down the world, it is your doing, mage!"

Anders had had enough.

"See you around, Solas," he said coldly and turned to leave.

"You'll be back," Solas said unexpectedly calmly. "You'll want help, guidance... And I am still your best lead. Ironically, it is I who is now locked in the pocket of Fade I created... I cannot leave. I did not miscalculate this... the prison works..."

...

Anders was walking in the Fade. What was he going to do now? If Solas was right, the world was in great danger. Was the breach in the Veil still open? Were demons pouring into the world through it, just like in the time of the Inquisition? He thought of Wolf and the mark on his hand with which to close the rifts. He had no such mark... And that story... the old gods... he still could not get to the root of it. Were the old gods just the dragons, then? Misused by evil elven mages? Perhaps... One thing was clear though - he got himself into an incredible mess. Again.

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Nov 13 2024, 08:59 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Second Seed, 3E410 - Well...

"Well..." Varric scowled, holding his broken leg. "Now what?"

"Now we find a way out," Anders looked around. He and Varric stood in the Fade, but it didn't look like the Fade that Anders knew. Of course the Fade had infinitely many pockets and variations, yet that part felt different somehow. It felt solid.

"This is Solas' personal space," Varric concluded when Anders told him that Fade felt different. "Weird stuff. But he's got a house somewhere here, he told me about it... The lighthouse. Look around. We find that, settle in and start drafting people."

"You don't give up, do you?" Anders shook his head. "Alright."

...

The pocket of the Fade they were in, was covered in eluvians. After a while Anders realised it was a space known as "The Crossroads". It had several large islands floating in mid-air, there were ghostly gondolas sailing from one island to another, there were spirits operating the gondola, and all of it was in a state of disrepair. Blighted growth covered all. Yet, by luck or by design, they found an eluvian that was functional, and it led them to another floating island with a lighthouse on it.

"Mind the edge!!" Anders had to grab Varric several times to prevent him from tipping off into the abyss. "I really don't know what would happen if you fell in. Solas should have installed some railings..."

Eventually they settled in.

"Right, what we need now is a number of experts," Varric was still leading, now from the infirmary wing.

"Are you planning to advertise in local newspapers? 'A hero sought to lead the war against the old gods'", Anders smirked. "I can see applicants lining up already."

"No, we've got the hero right here - that's you," Varric grinned. "We'll call you 'Rook', because 'Blondie' isn't serious enough."

"Rook," Anders raised an eyebrow. "As in - a big black bird of the Corvidae family?"

"No, as in a chess piece that tends to wreck the game," Varric grinned. "'Rook' sounds better than a 'Wrecking Ball'."

"Excellent. So all we need now is the rest of the chess set."

...

"Shadow Dragons led by a Viper? Seriously?" Anders dropped a scroll back onto a pile. To his surprise applicants did line up in reply to Varric's advertisement. Admittedly, it sounded like a treasure hunt expedition rather than an actual war against old gods. "The Demon of Vyrantium from the Antivan Crows? 'That Qunari girl' from the Lords of Fortune? A Professor of Necromancy from the Mourn Watch? Someone from the Veil Jumpers? Or Sweaters? Why not Pullovers? This is a farce, Varric! A total farce!!!" Anders scowled.

"Well, may be the names of their factions are a bit fanciful," Varric tried to be soothing. "But it's not all bad. Here's an application from your fellow Grey Warden."

"And his griffon Assan," Anders scanned the scroll. "A baby griffon. Right. Just what we needed."

"You don't think..."

"Not every Grey Warden is the same," Anders pointed out. "If he even is a Grey Warden and not a just a zoo keeper seeking fortune and glory. Aren't griffons extinct? Perhaps it's just a dog."

"Alright, alright! This will cheer you up," Varric handed him another scroll. "This is from Scout Harding. Remember her from the Inquisition? A damn good archer. Wolf was very fond of her, as I recall."

"'The Inquisition is disbanded and I'm boring my tits off with nothing to do.' Very encouraging," Anders grinned. "She's in."

"She's a dwarf," Varric pointed out.

"So?"

"When a dwarven woman tells you she's boring her tits off... It's not what you think. Stay away from her tits or else your head may go off to do stuff on its own, leaving the body behind."

"And here was me hoping to finally get that harem I always wanted..." Anders rolled his eyes. "Hmm... Let's hope the qunari girl will be more fun..."

"That depends what you call fun," Varric chuckled. "She's a dragon slayer, and she breathes fire, literally. Also... 'not fond of males', it says here. A perfect candidate for your harem."

"Sheesh..."

"The Veil Jumpers are sending a girl too though," Varric was reading another scroll. "Stop making fun of their name! It's Jumpers as in 'jumping', not 'knitting'! They are experts on ancient elven artefacts, magical anomalies and other weird stuff... You need one of them for your collection! And they are all elves... of mixed parentage... err... How mixed, it doesn't specify."

"Crossed with griffons?" Anders brought another bottle of whisky. "Or nugs? Or both? Oh why not, bring her in..."

"Mmm... I wonder why these jumpers are so keen to get rid of her though..." Varric sipped his whisky and exploded in coughs. "What is this stuff?!!!"

"Conscription ale vintage Anders," Anders grinned. "Needed to make room in the bottle. Figured I want it stronger for the times to come..."

"Stronger than this?!" Varric was wiping the tears with his sleeve. "It's like drinking fire!"

"Nah... Nothing burns quite like the Joining Cup," Anders chuckled.

"You Wardens are weird," Varric caught his breath. "But whatever."

"So... who else have we got?"

"The girl from Shadow Dragons... No, hold it!" Varric looked up. "Shut it, Blondie! She isn't called the Viper, she is a viper... Called Neve something. A private eye. Freelancer. Prosthetic leg in the shape of..."

"...a viper. I get it," Anders grinned. "She sounds like my kind of a girl. She's in."

"The rest are all men, so you won't be interested," Varric tossed the scrolls aside.

"Well, may be not for the harem... but for fighting the gods? Wasn't there a professor and his demon or something? And an assassin?"

"A Professor of Necromancy with his undead butler, yes," Varric nodded. "The butler makes excellent teacakes, apparently... actually fit for the living."

"He's in! I love teacakes."

"See? It's not all that bad..." Varric shuffled the scrolls. "Ah yes, the Crows send their regards... An assassin to join our cause. The Demon of Vyrantium. An actual demon."

"What..? Let me see." Anders sat up. "'A man and his demon...' He is an abomination. And he's imprisoned in an underwater dungeon only accessible through a secret portal. 'Free the Demon of Vyrantium and gain a master assassin for all your deadly needs!' Very fetching," Anders grinned. "Why do I feel like there's a catch?"

"It's the Crows, there's a catch, no doubt," Varric nodded. "Still... of all people, you know how it feels to be an abomination."

"The more reason to politely decline," Anders scowled.

"You don't refuse the Crows."

"Or what? They'll kill me and your little project will lose its leader?" Anders had had enough. "I said no. The Crow is out."

"Now, look here, Blondie..."

"Blondie is out too. See you around, dwarf."

Anders left the lighthouse, not forgetting to pick up his bottle of Conscription Ale from the table. The whole thing was too ridiculous to consider. Yes, the world was likely going to end, but he wasn't the man to stop it, and those 'recruits' were useless at best...

He found the eluvian leading to the crossroads. He wandered the Fade there, talked to the spirits and eventually found another working eluvian. It led to Mundus, he was told. He didn't mind where to exactly, he just wanted to be out of the Fade.

...

"Yeah, I'm a Grey Warden!" Anders stared at a thug in a bar. "You watch it, boy!" His speech was slurred slightly, but he could still see it was one thug, not two.

"Grey Wardens aren't all that tough," the thug spit. "Plenty of them hanging around the bars of Minrathous!" He made a wide gesture with his hand. Minrathous had a lot of seedy bars. "None of them fight! The Order of the Grey is rotten to the core! None of you know how to fight anymore! And you aren't even wearing the armour!"

"The griffon crest is in my blood, not on my armour, you fool!" Anders scowled, but still didn't attack. "Barman! More ale."

"That's all you Wardens are good for - drinking!" The thug wasn't giving up. "And your coin." He moved to snatch a purse from Anders' belt, but Anders wasn't drunk yet.

"Never taunt a mage!" He spat. "Imbecile."

The thug froze - literally. Anders froze him solid.

"One good knock and he'll shatter," someone said from the crowd. "It's Anders the Wrecking Ball."

Anders looked up from his ale. Varric. No one else would ever call him that.

"You want a wrecking ball? I'll give you a wrecking ball!" When Anders still had Justice living inside him, this would be the time for Justice to take control. And although Justice was long gone, his anger and recklessness still lingered... How could Justice be reckless? Simple - he never knew when the stop. These were the times when Anders would literally transform into a wrecking ball, with spirit magic streaming out of him, so that all anyone could see was a ball of blinding light...

Without Justice animating Anders' body, there was no ball of light. Still, an angry mage was a sight to behold; an angry blood mage even more so; and an angry Grey Warden blood mage was a sight best avoided, even from far. The bar was reduced to burning rubble before anyone could blink.

"A blood mage! He's a blood mage!!! Guards!!!!!" Someone screamed. Indeed, contrary to popular belief, blood magic was in fact outlawed in Tevinter. It never stopped the rich and powerful from using it behind closed doors, but public displays were frowned upon. It could also always be made into a pretext to arrest someone undesirable, such as a Grey Warden out of control.

...

"I like you but don't make it into a habit," someone spoke in an amused tone, and Anders decided to open his eyes and see who it was. "You have a remarkable physique... I always say that excercise should be compulsory for mages."

"Huh?" Anders tried to sit up but it felt like every bone in his body was broken.

"Oh please, lay still." The person moved into view. Dorian. "Your clothing is over there, although it's been reduced to scraps," he rolled his eyes. "What were you thinking, man? The guards really poured their souls into the interrogation of a blood mage."

"Is that what it was?" Anders sat his jaw back into place. "Did I tell them much?"

"That you wanted a qunari for your harem even if she breathed fire... and that dwarven tits should be left alone when they are bored... and something about sweaters... I didn't catch that one myself." Dorian was still looking at him with amusement. "What was all that about?"

"Varric," Anders shook his head to bring some clarity to his thoughts. "He wants to stop the impending end of the world."

"Oh, that..." Dorian rolled his eyes. "And you're the man for the job, I take it?"

"Aha," Anders finally managed to sit up and cast some healing magic. "Along with the titanium tits and fire-breathing qunari..."

"Charming," Dorian laughed. "I'll be watching."

"I'm not doing it," Anders shook his head.

"I see." Dorian got dressed. "Well, I'll leave you to recover. People will talk, be ready. You may need to revise your definition of a harem," he chuckled. "I have a certain reputation... but it was the only pretext that worked. The guards weren't about to relinquish their plaything quite so easily. They get a free reign when it comes to convicted blood mages... Fortunately my Magister's seal still carries some weight, even with the guard."

"I should be going," Anders tried to get up but couldn't.

"Nonsense. Considering how much I paid for you, I get to keep you for at least another day," Dorian winked. "You're safe here, which is why you are in my actual bedroom, on my actual bed. Which is why people will talk. You got yourself into a fine mess there, Blondie."

"Don't..!"

"Sorry, couldn't resist. Make yourself at home, Anders."

Dorian smiled at him and left. Anders looked around. The room was lavishly furnished, there was a bath tub in the corner and fresh clothes on a bench, coffee and sweet liquers on a side table. He noticed his bottle of Conscription Ale too, nearly empty. "So I did make enough room in it for a fresh start after all," he grinned. There was a gentle knock on the door and a young-looking elf entered, carrying a heavy breakfast tray.

"Master ordered breakfast for you," he said, setting it down. "He said not to bother you beyond that, but if you want more food, the kitchen is downstairs," he smiled. "You'll like it here. House Pavus is the best in Minrathous."

"Err... thanks, I guess..." Anders must have looked completely bewildered because the elf beamed at him and clarified:

"If you are going to be a slave, House Pavus is the best. Magister Pavus bought you from the city guard yesterday. It's all over the papers. Here - see for yourself."

The elf handed him a newspaper, smiled and left. The front page screamed in big letters:

PAVUS BUYS A BLOOD MAGE SLAVE

Left-wing Magister finally showing his colours
or was he simply sold on the mage's physique?

Buy this paper tomorrow to find out!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If you know Varric from previous games, you might be surprised why he is expressing himself quite so politely in this episode. This is because this forum has rules against profane or vulgar expressions. I have therefore toned down some of Varric's usual turns of phrase. For example, the title of this episode is in fact the same as the title of one of the quests in Dragon Age: Inquisition, abriged for this forum. If you want to read the unabriged version, click the title to read it on my own site. It isn't very different as I do not usually use such terms, but it is more authentic.

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Nov 15 2024, 06:52 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Midyear, 3E410 - Magister Pavus

"As property of House Pavus, you are subject to Imperial laws," a guard in the street of Minrathous looked Anders up and down. "Which means that if you get into bar fights, I'll escort you back to your master and he'll have to pay the fine. But if you use blood magic again, I still get to skin you first," he grinned. "Are we clear? So keep your nose clean while you're here."

"Do you really know every slave in Minrathous?" Anders squinted at him. "Or are you just picking on me on principle?"

"You're kinda famous," the guard grinned. "A blood mage, a Grey Warden to boot, and a slave of Dorian Pavus... There goes his left-wing reputation! Ha! He's just like the rest of them - rotten to the core!"

...

"You should not have bought me," Anders was saying to Dorian that evening. "It ruined your efforts to abolish slavery in Tevinter. No one will listen to you now. You actually went out of your way to buy a slave."

"They will use it against me, yes," Dorian nodded. "But my efforts weren't going anywhere already. Tevinter is the only country in Thedas to still have slavery, but it is so deeply ingrained, that I alone cannot shift it. And I wasn't going to stand by and watch the city guard skin you alive... Anyway, your First Warden wants to see you," he tossed a scroll to Anders. "Since you belong to House Pavus, they send correspondence to me. They wish to 'buy your freedom', as they put it. I suppose it isn't a good thing."

"Grey Wardens aren't often sold into slavery," Anders nodded. "It is often the other way around - Grey Wardens can conscript anyone they like, but since slaves aren't 'people', they have to buy them... I met a few... mostly elves..." Anders paused, reading the scroll. "He says here that my duties as a Grey Warden call me to the Head Quarters. But I am from the Ferelden chapter, we are independent... sort of. I could never quite figure it out myself."

"When you are outside of Tevinter, you are a free man," Dorian noted. "Officially, slavery only exists here. You could swap in and out of being a slave every day by just crossing the border..."

"So why don't slaves simply escape?" Anders looked up.

"Because we are allowed to pursue them to other kingdoms," Dorian smiled wryly. "It is up to each individual kingdom to decide what they want to do with escaped slaves in case there's a claim from the owner. Slaves aren't cheap, and slave owners are all rich people with influence... In most cases if there's a claim, local authorities elsewhere put their reservations aside and hunt down the slave. So Grey Wardens buying them out makes sense... in general."

"Antivan Crows also buy recruits," Anders remembered Zevran.

"Ah, but the Crows are different," Dorian shook his head. "Once a person enters that organisation, they cannot leave, ever. Or the Crows hunt them and kill them. It doesn't matter whether that person was bought on a slave market or recruited through some other means. All Crows are slaves to the guild master, factually if not in name."

"Anyway... I should go see the First Warden," Anders tossed the scroll. "And as my master and rightful owner, you should come with me," he grinned. "Refuse to sell me. I want to see what he wants."

...

"If it isn't our illustrious patron with his slave!" A woman in high quality leathers stopped Dorian and Anders in the street. "Dorian Pavus," she hissed. "With a blood mage," she shot Anders a piercing glance and grimaced - her upbringing did not allow her to spit. "You snake!" She glared at Dorian.

"Neve," Dorian smiled. "Meet Anders, a friend of mine of some years. And yes, a Grey Warden and a blood mage. Other things too." Then, turning to Anders, he started introducing Neve: "This is..."

"The real viper of the Shadow Dragons," Anders smiled. "Charmed, I'm sure." He bowed.

"What..?" Neve was taken aback at first, but quickly recovered. "You've heard of us?"

"I have," Anders nodded. "I would have chosen a less colourful name, myself. An underground organisation that likes to put itself in the spotlight, does not stay underground for long."

"My point exactly," Dorian glared at Neve. "If you were less well known, the mere fact of me buying a slave would not have ruined our efforts by quite such a margin!"

"You should not be buying slaves if you are trying to abolish slavery!" Neve hissed again. "You put us all in danger!"

"On the contrary, I took you out of danger," Dorian objected. "Ruined your credibility, true, but took you out of danger. You were losing people. The Venatori were winning."

"The who..?" Anders squinted. "I've heard that name before, I'm sure."

"Remember Tevinter mages sucking up to that darkspawn lord that the Inquisition was fighting? The Venatori. Unfortunately not all of them were killed. They are back." Dorian shook his head.

"Why?"

"Wanting power, I suppose."

"Oh blast."

"Quite." Dorian turned to Neve. "Anders is the one that Varric wanted to lead the fight. The one you applied to join."

"A blood mage?" Neve looked him up and down. "Whip him into shape and I might consider it," she smiled at Dorian slyly. "Since he is your slave, Magister Pavus."

...

"Warden Anders!" A booming voice sounded across the bar as soon as Dorian and Anders entered. "Present yourself!"

"That's for you," Dorian smirked. "Your First Warden."

"I never met the man," Anders was peering into the depths of a dimly lit bar. "But if Alistair's account of the Head Quarters was anything to go by, I wouldn't have expected anyone with quite such a voice."

"And a moustache to go with it," Dorian pointed out a man in full armour sporting a carefully combed and waxed moustache or epic proportions. "To scare hurlocks into submission, no doubt."

"Warden Anders!" The man repeated. "You stand accused of breaking several articles of the Grey Wardens code! The use of blood magic! Insubordination! Being out of uniform! Harboring dangerous spirits! Causing catastrophic explosions in friendly cities! I hereby arrest you and take you into custody! You will be transported to the Head Quarters prison immediately! Guards!!!"

All this came out in a flood. A pair of city guards approached but didn't make any attempts to arrest Anders. Instead, they were looking at Dorian for orders.

"You cannot order an arrest of someone's property, I think you'll find," Dorian smiled pleasantly. "First Warden, I presume? I received your letter. Magister Pavus, at your service." He bowed politely.

"What? Oh yes, pretending to get sold into slavery is another charge!" The First Warden glared at Anders again and raised his voice. "I hereby command you to..."

"Guards, read this man his rights," Dorian told them calmly. "Come on, Anders, we're leaving. We're done here."

He turned to leave. Anders smiled at the First Warden and turned his back to him also.

"WHAT?!!" The booming voice of the First Warden was heard far outside of the bar. "Come back here, you scum!!!"

"It seems he just wanted a chat," Anders grinned. "Should we actually leave or..?"

"...or shall we remind him of the Order's past transgressions?" Dorian winked, smiling playfully. "Oh why not. It's going to be fun! People like him make the most peculiar hollow sound when they fall."

They turned around and walked back to the First Warden.

"9:41 Dragon - The First Warden of the Grey ordered Warden-Commander Clarel of the Orlaisian chapter to submit to a known blood mage and a Venatori agent to sacrifice half of her chapter to bind demons to the other half of her chapter, thus putting all of her Grey Wardens under direct control of a darkspawn lord. How many articles of the Grey Wardens code does that break, do you reckon?" Dorian said in a clear voice, and several people in the bar laughed. "Real Grey Wardens do not sit around sipping expensive liqueurs in the bars of Minrathous, First Warden."

"What..?" First Warden was taken aback, speaking in a much softer tone. "You... Oh I should have known... You are that Pavus..!"

"Yes, that Pavus that fought against those demons that were bound to Grey Warden mages in an old fortress in the Western Approach," Dorian squinted, his voice becoming menacing. "I am that Pavus that stood in the Fade when Warden-Commander Clarel plunged her staff into the skull of a false Archdemon summoned by that Venatori agent. I was there. I know your game first hand. And this is that Anders who stood by that Warden-Commander Asgarsen in that same very battle!"

"Anders from the Ferelden chapter?" The First Warden seemed surprised. "I wasn't briefed... But the charges..."

"All true, except faking being sold into slavery," Anders smiled. "That wasn't faked. Dorian actually bought me."

...

"That was quite a show," an elf approached Anders and Dorian in the street as they were walking back from the bar. "Good on you for not buckling in, Anders. We've been getting a lot of bull from the Head Quarters lately."

"A fellow Grey Warden?" Anders smiled at him, sensing the taint. "I don't think we've met."

"No, I am from the Anderfells chapter," the elf nodded. "The Head Quarters chapter, that is. Isn't Anderfells your home? Your name is rather telling."

"I was taken to the Ferelden Circle of Magi when I was seven," Anders shrugged. "I don't remember much of the Anderfells... apart from snow."

"We breed griffons," the elf said quietly. "I know they are said to be extinct. It isn't true. They are native to the Anderfells and there are some nests..."

"Fascinating!" Dorian beamed at him. "Come - we'll have dinner. You will be quite safe in my home, fear not..."

"I know," the elf smiled. "House Pavus is the best in Minrathous. Every slave will tell you that."

Dorian grimaced and shook his head. He just bought a slave of his own, and it was going to bite. No one would care that he did it to save a life; he was now a slaver, no better than the rest of his family, no different to any other Magister in Tevinter. He refused to marry because he preferred men, but that was no longer spectacular. His refusal to own slaves of his own, however, still was. Until he bought Anders. Dorian sighed. He knew what he was doing, he knew he'd have to start from scratch with his efforts to abolish slavery. But he chose to save his friend instead of maintaining the purity of his reputation for the sake of an unreachable goal. "Unreachable in my lifetime," he thought. All he could hope for was to saw the seed of doubt, break the mould, for someone in the future to actually make a change.

PAVUS IN A STAND-OFF WITH FIRST WARDEN

Magister and his blood mage Grey Warden slave
humiliate the First Warden in a Minrathous bar!

Are Grey Wardens truly rotten to the core?
Buy this paper tomorrow to find out!

[Lena Wolf]

Midyear, 3E410 - Lords of Fortune

"Have you talked sense into him yet?" Varric raised his eyes above the cards he was holding. "I'll see your sovereign and raise you five."

"I am not his mommy to talk sense into her little boy," Dorian scoffed. "Five and five."

"He is your property. Twenty."

"He is his own man. Thirty. I call." Dorian put his cards on the table. A Royal Flush.

"Damn." Varric tossed his hand.

"You've got nothing," Dorian smirked. "You bluffed with a pair of sixes?" He looked at Varric in surprise.

"I keep all the good stuff up my sleeve," Varric winked. "Who cares, Dorian. The world hasn't got long to live."

"Anders doesn't want to take the fall for it," Dorian looked serious. "Because we've got nothing. How do you expect to battle ancient gods with a few adventurers? Those gods are darkspawn, you need Grey Wardens."

"And Grey Wardens are sipping liqueur in the bars of Minrathous," Varric looked at him darkly. "I've heard of your little performance."

"There's always the Ferelden chapter."

"The Ferelden chapter is currently ass-deep in darkspawn. Have you not heard? They are having another Blight."

"What? So soon? How can it be?" Dorian sat up. "Throughout history, there's always been centuries between Blights... Not twenty years!"

"Solas was right - some of the old gods escaped, and they were the ones who invented the Blight in the first place... Yeah, elven mages, not Tevinter Magisters, as the Chantry preaches. Who cares? The Blight threatens us all." Varric got up from his stool shifting the money on the table towards Dorian. "Here - buy another slave. Buy teacakes for Anders, I don't care. Nothing matters anymore."

"Varric..!"

"I'll be at the Swan if you want me..."

Dorian smiled to himself - Varric wasn't leaving Minrathous. For all his demeanour, he wasn't giving up yet.

...

Back in his mansion, Dorian went looking for Anders whom he found in the lounge in the company of several scantly clad dancers. Dorian poured himself coffee and joined them.

"Nice to see you are not abusing my hospitality," he smirked. "Have I ordered them in? That'll make some heads turn at the Magisterium, that's for sure."

"Do you wish me to get rid of them, Master?" Anders looked up with a mock expression of obedience. "I only aim to please."

"Carry on," Dorian watched them dance for a while. "We'll talk after supper," he shot a glance at Anders. "I want you in my chambers tonight."

Dorian left. Anders watched the girls dance a bit longer, then waved his hand for them to start stripping. If the party was soon to end, he didn't want to miss any of the good bits.

...

"There's a new Blight in Ferelden," Dorian said when the servants finally left. "Varric told me, and it seems to be true, I checked," he added, noticing Anders' surprise. "Don't tell me you can't feel it."

"I can't," Anders shook his head in disbelief. "I sensed that Grey Warden the other day, so I am definitely not 'cured'", he smirked. "But I sense no Archdemon. There's always an Archdemon leading the Blight."

"Well..." Dorian opened the door sharply, and an elf who had his ear to the keyhole, nearly fell in. "What were you expecting to hear, Liam?" Dorian grabbed the elf's shoulder.

"Oh Master..." Liam looked at him pleadingly.

"Oh Master what?" Dorian looked quite cross, despite his state of undress. "Who is it this time?"

"Mistress Minerva... Forgive me, Master..!" Liam was pleading. "But ever since... umm... your new partner... umm..." he shot a glance at Anders reclining on the bed. "And all the female dancers... umm... there's talk..."

"What you mean to say is that whoever brings evidence that I sleep with a woman, gets the largest payout, is that it?" He glared at Liam. "And as you can see, my partner is still a man. Get out!"

He pushed Liam out of the room and locked the door.

"It's getting quite annoying," he turned to Anders. "Ever since you started bringing girls into the house, there's a rumour that I might be inclined to change my preference. That opens up the possibility of marriage... Do you see where this is going?"

"You are turning into a highly eligible bachelor," Anders grinned. "Desirable even. You've got to have an heir, no? Magister Pavus requires a wife."

"Magister Pavus can appoint an heir without getting down to the nitty-gritty of it!" Dorian scoffed.

"Which is why you wanted me here with no clothes on," Anders grinned. "Alright. Happy to oblige. Master."

"Oh, shut it, Blondie!" Dorian glared.

"Certainly," Anders looked at him darkly. "Your word is my command."

"Alright. I am sorry. I know you hate that nickname," Dorian sighed. "Almost as much as I hate being called Master."

"Except that you actually are my Master and I am your slave," Anders pouted his lips like an annoyed toddler.

"And you have blond hair, so the nickname sticks," Dorian pointed out. "The same thing."

"Oh I suppose you are right, Dorian," Anders smiled. "Let's not argue. What was that about the Blight?"

"Well, the Blight is back, apparently, yet you cannot sense it. The other Grey Wardens cannot sense it either, I am certain, otherwise they would not be sitting in the bars of Minrathous in quite such numbers." Dorian paused, pouring whisky for them both. "Something isn't right, and I think I know what it is. The Blight has changed."

"The elven gods that Solas spoke of, are leading it," Anders nodded. "That's bad."

"Ferelden will be fine because Alistair doesn't just rely on that sense alone," Dorian raised a toast.

"But the North... Oh blast..." Anders shook his head, then tipped the whisky into his mouth. "Oh alright... Tell Varric I'll do it..."

"That's what we like to hear," Dorian smiled. "Come here, my lover, I still say you have a beautiful physique..."

...

"Lords of Fortune - that sounds like a band of pirates," Anders was talking to a tall qunari girl walking in front of him. Or at least he was trying to talk to her - she wasn't saying much.

"No," she answered.

"Not pirates? Hmm... What then? Treasure hunters?"

"Yes."

"Are you always so eloquent?"

"No."

He wasn't getting anywhere with her, so he gave up. She led him to a dank cellar in a part of Minrathous that even Grey Wardens tended to avoid.

"Through here," she pointed to a hole in the wall, indicating that Anders should go first. He shivered and squeezed through, the qunari followed. "This is he, boss," she said to someone standing in the dark. "The Grey Warden."

"Indeed," Anders heard a vaguely familiar voice. "I wasn't certain when you said that he was Pavus' lover... Three nugs and a captain, wasn't it, Anders?" A woman in her forties stepped out into the light.

"Striking as always, Isabela," Anders grinned. "You were the captain though."

"The Pearl."

"Kirkwall."

"Those were the days," Isabela laughed heartily. "And people thought it was Wolf with me then... and it was you, all along... a whole different Warden altogether."

"The Pearl is in Denerim though," someone said from the dark.

"There's more than one pearl in the sea, darling," Isabela replied, not taking her eyes off Anders. "As there's more than one Warden..."

Anders felt eyes on him, he felt being tested. The Pearl in Kirkwall was not a well-known establishment, but then again he could not afford the Blooming Rose. And yes, he had heard the story of a Warden, a captain and three nugs at The Pearl in Denerim during the last Blight, but that was before his time. He wondered if it was about Wolf and Isabela... and may be it was. The lady seemed to be particularly fond of nugs.

"What brings you here, darling?" Isabela stood before Anders, looking into his eyes. "What do you want with the Lords of Fortune?"

"I want your qunari girl," he said without flinching.

"Oh, is that all?" Isabela smiled. "Taash isn't fond of men, you know."

"And neither am I, so we have something in common," Anders returned her smile.

"Well played," Isabela grinned. "This is the man," she said to someone standing in the dark, still looking at Anders. "If anyone can do it, it'll be he."

"We'll see how far he gets," a middle-aged qunari woman came into the light. "I entrust my daughter to you, I expect you to keep her safe. Is that clear?"

"Mother!!" The girl that led Anders to that gathering, seemed to be surprised. "What are you saying?!"

"You go with him, Taash," the older woman answered. "It's time."

"For what?" Taash looked annoyed, more than anything.

"For you to step forward," the mother replied. "I've shielded you long enough... You need a man to tame your fire breath now... this man... A human mage twice your age... and why not. Take care of her, mage," she looked at Anders. "The weight of this world rests on your shoulders," she smiled.

...

The way back to Dorian's mansion was just as silent as the way to the meeting. Taash didn't say anything but followed Anders, and Anders couldn't think of anything to say. The meeting did not turn out the way he expected. From Taash's letter he thought that the Lords of Fortune were a bunch of thieves having trouble with a qunari girl among them - Taash. She wrote that she wanted to leave, that she was an accomplished fighter, a fire-breathing dragon slayer, which Anders thought was just bragging because what would a dragon slayer do among thieves? But after the meeting he thought that the letter was not from Taash but from her mother and that the Lords of Fortune were actually pirates, not thieves. What he still could not understand, is why Taash's mother wanted her daughter to join him and what she meant exactly about expecting him to tame Taash's fire? Surely she didn't expect him to... Maker's breath! But it was too late to refuse.

Varric and Dorian were in the salon when Anders and Taash arrived.

"And here comes our dragon slayer!" Varric got up as lively as his broken leg would permit. "Welcome!"

"Who are you?" Taash looked around.

"We are just entourage," Dorian stepped forward. "This is my house, so I get to welcome the guests, no more. Use it as a base. The servants will show you to your room. The kitchen is downstairs. Feel free to go almost anywhere, except my private chambers."

"I don't actually stay here," Varric took over. "I am Varric. I do get to advise."

"On what?" Taash was staring him down.

"The letter was from her mother," Anders joined in. "Taash needs to be briefed. You do it, Varric, it's your project. I've had enough for today."

Anders left and Dorian followed. Varric invited Taash to sit down.

"The world is under threat of destruction and we aim to stop it," he said, but Taash didn't flinch. "There will be dragons to fight... the Blight... monsters... mages..."

"I do dragons," Taash said and smiled. "Your world will be safe with me, dwarf."

[Lena Wolf]

Last Seed, 3E410 - People issues

"Anders!" someone plunged into Anders' midriff knocking the air out of him. "Good to see you!"

"Lace Harding," Anders coughed. "My favourite dwarf."

"This is a nice mansion!" She let go of him and looked around. "Dorian has really done well for himself!"

"That's his ancestral home, he didn't do anything to get it," Anders shook his head. "Some people are born rich."

"Yeah..." Harding was examining the tapestries and paintings lining the walls. "Not like us. Remember Redcliffe?"

"How can I forget?" Anders smirked. "I even swam across the lake once."

"I know," Harding laughed. "'Anders escaped from the Tower again!' - we heard that often enough... People were even betting on the date of your next attempt..." She laughed at the memory. "And then you stopped escaping for a year or more."

"Solitary confinement," Anders nodded. "I was imprisoned."

"Oh no!" Harding looked shocked. "Really? But you were just a kid!"

"Fifteen," Anders nodded. "There was a cat that used to visit... on my sixteenth birthday he brought me cake. Then I knew something was wrong."

"Cake? From a cat?"

"Quite. Possession by a Pride Demon. The demon tried to switch to me... The cat form wasn't good enough, it appeared."

"What happened?" Harding stared at him in fascination.

"The templars slayed him. But not before he took out four of them," Anders grinned. "I was so proud."

"Don't tell me he jumped into you instead!"

"No, I wasn't about to let him. I was proud for the cat."

"Was that when..?" She cut herself off.

"When what? When I turned to blood magic?" Anders squinted. "No, that was much later. Unrelated."

"Oh."

Harding stopped staring at the paintings and tapestries and faced Anders.

"So what about it? Have you got a plan?"

"Nope."

"Didn't think so."

"But you still came."

"The Blight is rising in Ferelden," Harding grew serious. "We've got to do something."

"Yeah... We'll try."

They talked a bit longer, mostly reminiscing, then went to their respective quarters for the night. They didn't have enough people to do anything, and so Anders decided to focus on the people issue first.

...

"Are you gay?" Taash cornered Anders a few days later.

"No," he shook his head.

"But you sleep with Dorian."

"I sometimes sleep in Dorian's room," Anders corrected her. "It's not the same."

"I don't want to sleep with you."

"That's great, the feeling is mutual," Anders gave her a long look. "What brought that on? I never suggested..."

"My mother," Taash was her usual laconic self. "She said you were the man."

"I remember," Anders shivered involuntarily. "But the man for what? Do you know?"

"If it's about the cherry, you're too late," Taash smirked. "Done that ages ago. The bloke was useless, I can do better myself."

"Not if you want kids," Anders smirked, and regretted it the same instance.

"Who said anything about kids?!" Taash glared at him. "I want no human pygmies, thanks!"

"That's not what she meant then," Anders sighed with relief. Perhaps he didn't need a qunari in his harem after all.

"You are a mage."

"Yes."

"And Dorian is a mage."

"Yes."

"Magic tickles. I want to see how two mages do it."

"WHAT?!" Anders couldn't believe his ears. "No! You don't get to see how two mages do it! That's private!"

"I thought you said you weren't gay," Taash grinned.

"I'm not," Anders shook his head. "It's complicated..." He paused, then turned to her with a question. "What are you getting at, Taash?"

"I want to be a man."

"Err..."

"You're a mage - make it happen."

"It does not work like that..."

"Then my mother was wrong about you," Taash looked down at Anders with disappointment. "You are not the man."

"Perhaps that's not what she meant."

"I know, she meant the opposite."

"Meaning?"

"Make a woman out of me," Taash shrugged. "Make me act like a woman. Do woman stuff. Sleep with men. I dunno."

"I am really only interested in a dragon slayer for the purpose of saving the world," Anders said slowly. "Making a woman out of you is a much larger task."

"Then we are in agreement," Taash gave him a broad smile. "I'm only here for the dragons."

...

"Oh hello! I am Bellara!!!" A very excited elven woman entered Dorian's mansion. "From the Veil Jumpers! The elves! We are elves! We investigate magical anomalies, abnormalities, aberrations, inconsistencies, misconfigurations, misalignments, mysterious phenomena, ancient artefacts, resonant spaces and subspaces, spacial inversions, space warps, teleportation malfunctions, energy beam deficiencies, field dynamics, spirit transference..."

"Welcome, Bellara!" Dorian came at her all smiles, speaking slightly louder than she. "Welcome to Minrathous! Have you had a tour of the city yet? There's so much to see! Why, I shall arrange it at once!"

"Oh my goodness!" Bellara focused her attention on him and everyone else in the room resumed breathing. "This is so exciting! I've heard so much about Tevinter magic! And aren't you a Magister? You are, aren't you? A real Tevinter Magister? I mean, I know magic of course, good lord, we do so much magic all the time, but elven magic is different, although the resonance is always the same, or so they claim, but I found there's always a bias, a shift in intonation..."

"Maker's breath! Is she just going to talk those evil gods to death?" Anders looked at Varric. "She'll probably pull it off, too."

"And that is why the Veil Jumpers were so keen for her to join us," Varric shook his head. "Maker help us all."

...

"Warden," an elf in shabby leathers sat down next to Anders in a dimly lit Minrathous bar.

"Warden," Anders returned his greeting.

"I hear you're on a mission," the elf said softly.

"Yeah... three girls don't make a harem though," Anders smirked.

"The First Warden issued a warrant for your arrest."

"Not surprising."

"You can't leave Tevinter. Best not even leave Minrathous."

"Best not leave my Master's mansion, yet here we are." Anders stared into space in front of him. A poster with his likeness and words "BLOOD MAGE" sprayed over it was making his point. "What a mess."

"The Blight has changed," the elf lowered his voice to near whisper. "We can't sense it as well as before."

"Yet it is no less deadly."

"Even more so."

"Leads?" Anders shot the elf a sideways glance.

"Anderfels, Head Quarters," the elf mouthed. "There was an attack, have you heard?"

"That's news to me," Anders shook his head. "Darkspawn in a Grey Wardens fortress? That's grotesque."

"A fortress staffed with paper pushers and bureaucrats," the elf shrugged. "A good kick and it'll fall."

"Too bad for the symbolism, but I couldn't care less."

"The archives must be protected."

"Memories of the Grey," Anders nodded. "Yes, but the vault is more important."

"Don't you have some Archdemon blood in Ferelden?" The elf looked over his shoulder making sure that no one was listening.

"We might do," Anders grinned. "Wolf didn't trust the HQ much. Especially when they sent him an accountant by way of reinforcements."

"So. Let the HQ fall. The Grey will continue." The elf got up from his stool. "I hear one of us applied to join you. The one with the baby griffon, yes. Full of himself worse than the First Warden. But his griffon is making a mess at the HQ... Take him, please."

"Look around - the griffon won't survive Minrathous."

"On the contrary. Plenty of rats down here, plenty of nesting spots too. Griffons are tough, even baby ones. He'll learn. As for the man attached to the griffon... see him as a mole. He'll be in touch with the HQ, you'll be keeping an ear to the ground."

"Or he'll sell me out to the First Warden and I'll find my ass in prison again." Anders smirked and shook his head. "Thanks but I'll pass."

"Take him," the elf insisted. "You need that griffon."

"How do you know all this?" Anders turned on his stool to look the elf in the eye.

"Darkspawn in the Deep Roads has changed," the elf said gravely. "I have... sources with the Legion of the Dead. It's a Blight, but the Archdemon isn't of the usual kind..."

"How many Wardens have you got?" Anders dropped his voice again.

"Of those that can fight? Some. Not enough," the elf sighed. "The fortress will fall, many will die. There are also other rumours... that darkspawn wants to capture Wardens alive."

"To put them in prison and bleed periodically. Yeah." Anders shivered, remembering his own experience of a darkspawn prison almost twenty years previously. "Red lyrium..."

"Sshhhh..." The elf stopped him. "So you know. It's true then. That's bad." The elf shook his head. "The Venatori here in Minrathous... you've heard the name, yes? They are involved."

"That's a lead," Anders smiled. "Alright, send me your griffon... I'll see what I can do about the mole."

...

A few days later there was a determined knock on the door of the Pavus Manor followed by an even more determined voice: "I'm your Grey Warden! Open up!"

"You must be Davrin," the butler opened the door. "Please come in. You may await Magister Pavus in the drawing room, help yourself to the refreshments. We do hope that your companion is house trained."

By the time the butler finished his speech, they stood in the drawing room.

"Magister Pavus..?" Davrin seemed perplexed.

"The Lord of this manor, yes," the butler beamed at him. "Did you not know whose door you were knocking on, Warden?"

The butler bowed politely and closed the doors of the drawing room behind him, leaving Davrin and his baby griffon to wait.

Davrin scoffed and started pacing the room. Then he got bored and decided to look at the paintings. "Just like the library rooms at the Head Quarters," he scoffed again. "Boring. What was that about refreshments?" He looked around, found the liqueurs and prepared to wait.

...

"He is as you expected," the butler entered the salon where Dorian and Anders were playing chess. "I let him wait in the drawing room... I thought you might want to interview him first."

"Does he actually have a griffon with him?" Taash looked up from her book on dragon history.

"A small one, yes," the butler nodded. "I cannot guarantee the state of the carpets after this visit, My Lord," he turned to Dorian. "Griffons are birds and birds..."

"...ruin carpets, yes," Dorian smirked. "Not to worry, Cedric, we'll replace the carpets if they cannot be cleaned."

"Very well, sir," Cedric bowed and left.

"Well?" Dorian looked at Anders. "Shall we wait for Varric or do you want to handle him yourself?"

"I'll go," Anders got up.

...

"Warden Davrin, I presume?" Anders entered the drawing room and found Davrin reclining on a chaise-longue with a drink. "Please don't get up. What brings you to Minrathous?"

"This is excellent whisky," Davrin looked at Anders through his glass. "Magister Pavus."

"Thank you," Anders smiled thinly and sat down.

"I am here to answer an advertisement of someone named Varric regarding a monster hunting expedition," Davrin said in a self-assured tone. "I did not expect to be meeting a Magister." He said with a hiss, as if spitting.

"Varric is busy today, you can talk to me instead," Anders smiled. "Why does a Grey Warden wish to join a monster hunting expedition? Aren't Grey Wardens supposed to guard the land against darkspawn instead?"

"In Peace, Vigilance," Davrin proclaimed gravely. "Our motto. There's no Blight now, so we don't have much to do. Monster hunting is my hobby."

"Is it now? Fascinating!" Anders beamed at him. "Have you been with the Wardens long?"

"Three years now," Davrin grinned. "Always wanted to hunt monsters. I am a Dalish elf, see, and hunting game was just... well... not glorious enough. But Grey Wardens - they stand for something! In War, Victory! In Peace, Vigilance! In Death, Sacrifice!"

"I see," Anders smiled. "So you enjoy fighting darkspawn then?"

"They are monsters, they'll do!" Davrin gave him a broad smile. "I'm a good fighter! A great fighter even! Never met any darkspawn I could not defeat!"

"Obviously, since you are sitting here," Anders nodded. "What of your griffon?"

"They are Grey Wardens' pets, they are," Davrin petted his griffon. "They squawk a lot, and I don't really see much point... but this one is just a baby, he'll improve, I hope..."

"Does the First Warden know that you want to join us?" Anders asked nonchalantly.

"Oh yeah, he gave me leave," Davrin nodded. "There's no Blight, and so..."

"I see." Anders got up to leave. "Varric will be here tomorrow, he will brief you on the details. I'll have the butler show you to your room. It opens onto the yard for your griffon to... well... you'll figure it out. Dinner is at eight in the dining room, breakfast at nine in the breakfast bar, the kitchens are downstairs, feel free to go anywhere except my private chambers... Probably also not to the quarters of the other guests... We'll talk more later, I'm sure, Warden."

Anders left. "He's all yours," he winked to the butler waiting outside. "He thinks I'm Magister Pavus."

...

"How is it that he didn't sense you're a Grey Warden?" Varric asked when Anders told him and Dorian about the interview.

"Not all Wardens are so attentive to it," Anders shrugged. "The taint in darkspawn in strong, we can't ignore it, but the taint in fellow Wardens is very mild in comparison. If he's too busy reciting the motto, he may miss it."

"Why do we even want him?" Varric shook his head. "He seems useless at best..."

"He's in contact with the Head Quarters," Anders looked at him and also shook his head. "I am still not convinced it's a good idea, but Antoine asked me to take him. I trust Antoine. We won't be hiding who I am, but I'll let Davrin walk into it himself. The First Warden cannot touch me here."

"You should be sleeping with me from now on," Dorian looked straight at him. "In my room. I have the best bodyguards. The First Warden might try to have you removed if he cannot bring you in."

"He's right," Varric nodded. "We need you alive, Blondie."

[Lena Wolf]

Last Seed, 3E410 - Professor of Necromancy

"We are going to Nevarra," Dorian said to Anders at breakfast. "I got a letter from an acquaintance at the Grand Necropolis - they have problems with red lyrium... Very unusual. I suspect the Venatori, but I cannot imagine what they'd be wanting with the dead. So you and I are going to investigate."

"Nevarra," Anders mused. "Cassandra was from Nevarra... She mentioned her uncle being a... what's the word... a necromancer of some sort. Tending to the dead. Whom they don't cremate but bury... so odd."

"They don't just bury them... they embalm the corpses and wrap them in cloth, or they allow the flesh to decay and then reanimate the skeletons... It may be odd, but they do honour their dead, the same as we," Dorian pointed out. "There are powerful mages among them... nothing evil. So we should help."

"Of course we'll help," Anders agreed. "Where red lyrium and the Venatori are involved, Blight and darkspawn won't be far, it's right up our alley. Might give us a lead. I hope you still remember how to fight, Magister Pavus," he smirked.

...

Grand Necropolis was indeed grand. Anders had never seen burial chambers that weren't in ruin, or burial chambers where animated skeletons were sweeping the floors, clearing rubble or serving drinks instead of attacking anyone on sight. He and Dorian were greeted by a solemn apprentice that looked and behaved like a monk, and Anders thought that perhaps it took a certain level of detachment from worldly affairs to feel at home in such a place.

The apprentice led them into the depths of the necropolis to meet the person who requested their assistance - Professor Emmrich Volkarin.

"I really don't understand what anyone could want with the dead," he said with a sigh. "Of course, there is always a possibility of curses and demons, but it is much easier to find both on the surface... We've never dealt with red lyrium before, it is quite a peculiar substance, and we can all feel the evil in it... it's hard to explain..." He looked at Anders and his face lit up. "But you are a Grey Warden, are you not? Forgive me, I should not have forgone proper introductions... Indeed, Dorian did mention a friend... You are exactly who we need, then!"

He led them through a maze of corridors until they reached a locked door.

"It's here," the professor turned to them. "We locked this hall because it's carnage inside. Red lyrium crystals all over the place, as well as dead bodies. No, the fighting is already done..." He smiled, noticing surprise on Anders' and Dorian's faces. "That's not why I called you. We do not understand what killed all those Venatori. I was hoping you could shed some light on that... as well as perhaps we'll discover how they got in."

He unlocked the doors. The hall was indeed covered in blood, red lyrium and bodies.

"The blood isn't congealing," Dorian noted. "It is either blighted or..."

"No, red lyrium is blighted, the blood is fresh," Anders looked around. "Someone was trying to perform a blood magic ritual but it went wrong."

"Oh! We are very much against blood magic!" The professor was dismayed. "It is disrespecting the dead!"

"It might do," Anders nodded. "It depends..." Dorian put a hand on his shoulder - not now. "Err... Yeah, quite right, this was likely one of those disrespecting rituals," Anders corrected himself. "Seeing that they had to sneak in. And use red lyrium..."

"But who interrupted it? And who killed all the Venatori?" The professor was still looking quite perplexed. "Can you sense any darkspawn, Warden?"

"No darkspawn here," Anders smiled reassuringly. "No, it's like I said - the corruption is only in the red lyrium. My guess would be that they tried to summon the spirit of one of the people entombed here and make a demon out of it."

"This is very worrying," the professor was checking the inscriptions on the tombs. "This hall houses many great mages from our Order. Any of them, if corrupted, could make for a powerful demon!"

"What's behind that door?" Anders stopped at another large locked door. "I sense something there."

"Do you..?" The professor gave Anders a long look. "How?"

"I am a mage, and like you, I can sense spirits," Anders shrugged.

"But I sense nothing behind that door," the professor shook his head. "Why is your wrist bleeding?"

"Err..." Anders pulled down his sleeve but it was too late.

"Just who is your friend Grey Warden, Dorian?" The professor gave Dorian a very stern look. "You know what we think..."

"I know," Dorian nodded, looking somewhat embarrassed. "I should have told you, Emmrich, I am sorry. I suppose the cat's out of the bag now. Anders is a blood mage. Nothing like the Venatori, I assure you, but he is not shirking from using blood magic when he thinks it's the right tool for the job."

"You cannot sense anything behind that door without blood," Anders looked at the professor, no longer hiding his bleeding wrist. "But it only takes a few drops to see clearly. There's a demon in there. A powerful demon, Pride probably or something like it. If that demon considers this hall its home, it would have killed the intruders. Perhaps even the intruders tried to bind it to one of them... I've seen it happen." He shivered, recalling the ritual the Grey Wardens of Orlais used to bind demons to mages at the cost of a life.

"Are you thinking..?" Dorian realised what he was talking about. "Then who was the sacrifice?"

"One of them, perhaps?" Anders shrugged. "Or may be they found a way to use red lyrium instead of blood?"

"No, that ritual calls for blood, not lyrium," the professor shook his head, surprising them all. "We disapprove of it of course, but it doesn't mean we are ignorant of it. That massacre of Grey Wardens didn't go unnoticed in our circles. That particular ritual requires blood. However, I can see several ways to modify it to use souls of the departed instead..."

"Then this is what they were after," Dorian nodded. "They wanted to bind that demon using the souls of the departed entombed in this hall. And the demon disagreed."

"Alright," the professor seemed satisfied. "We still need to understand how they got in..." He looked around. "We do have guards, you know. You think you could just walk in here, but you are wrong. Spirits watch all visitors and intervene when necessary. Spirits should have caught them, they should have seen their intent. Unless..." One of the bodies attracted his attention, he turned it over and found a disembodied hand. "The Hand of Glory," he picked it up. "Unbelievable."

"What's that?" Dorian asked softly, realising that the professor was in a trance.

"Oh... That's a very powerful artefact," the professor jerked out of his reverie. "It renders the person who carries it invisible to spirits, it unlocks any door and thus allows passage anywhere the person wishes. And this particular Hand of Glory is so powerful that it would blind the spirits to a whole group of people walking close to the one who carries it... and this is why the Venatori could walk these halls unchallenged." He nodded and stashed the Hand of Glory in his satchel. "I'll take it for safekeeping... and study," he looked at his companions and smiled. "This closes the matter."

"But what about the demon behind this door?" Anders squinted at him. "Shouldn't we kill it?"

"We can't kill it," the professor shook his head. "I know what's behind this door. Not because I can sense it... but I know. You weren't supposed to find out."

"Well... it's your problem, I guess," Anders shrugged.

"We... will take it from here," the professor smiled. "Thank you both."

...

"Well, that wasn't what I expected," Dorian shook his head when they finally returned to Minrathous. "I wonder what Emmrich is hiding..."

"How well do you know him?" Anders looked up.

"I've known him for years, but we were never close friends. Polite acquaintances at best. That Hand of Glory had some meaning to him personally, wouldn't you say?" Dorian mused.

"I'd say he didn't expect to find it in the possession of those Venatori," Anders nodded. "I'd say he knew exactly what it was."

"Agreed. But it is none of our business." Dorian closed the topic.

"Did you say the name of that professor was Emmrich something?" Varric looked up from a scroll. "Emmrich Volkarin? He applied to join our merry band. Here is his letter."

"Did he now?" Dorian laughed. "The good professor is getting bored in the Grand Necropolis! Why, we should invite him here. He is a very powerful mage," Dorian added, looking at Anders. "Knowledgeable, too. If a bit formal and old-fashioned. I bet he already figured out what is at stake here, and by the look of things, we've just been interviewed..." Dorian laughed. "Oh Emmrich. So smooth."

"I wonder if we passed the test," Anders smirked. "I guess we'll find out."

[Lena Wolf]

Last Seed, 3E410 - Dragon

"You lied to me!" Davrin was fuming. "You said you were Magister Pavus! You didn't say you were a Grey Warden! And there's an arrest warrant out on you as well!"

"I never said I was Magister Pavus," Anders replied coldly. "You assumed I was Magister Pavus. You should have sensed that I was a Grey Warden right from the start. You are a disgrace."

"How dare you!" Davrin was growing angrier by the minute. People started betting on blows. "If I had known..!"

"You should have known," Anders still betrayed no emotion. "However, if you wish to leave, then leave."

"I am NOT leaving!!!" Davrin exploded. "I am here to hunt monsters! Not to take rubbish from an inferior Warden who should be in prison! Not to take rubbish from a slave!"

"Alright." Anders turned around and walked away. Bets on punches doubled.

"Hey!!! You don't just walk away from me, boy!!!" Davrin yelled.

Anders did not react. He walked to the other end of the salon and poured himself a cup of tea. Servants moved away from where he was sitting. Taash looked up from her dragon book.

"You are NOT a Grey Warden!" Davrin seemed to have decided on a line of argument. "You are a disgrace! I'll cut you down where you stand!!!" And before anyone could intervene, he drew his sword and charged Anders. Most people inhaled sharply. Varric grinned. Anders flicked his wrist freezing Davrin solid mid-jump. He then took out his Arcane Sphere and shattered Davrin's sword before Davrin came back to life.

"Never taunt a mage," Anders said calmly. "Especially one holding a wrecking ball."

Davrin cooled off and walked away but everyone could see that the confrontation wasn't over.

...

Anders moved to the room next to Dorian which was a part of the same suite. Dorian ordered his bodyguards to guard them both.

"I don't expect assassins in broad daylight," he said. "It is more likely they sneak in at night. They should think twice trying to get to my personal chambers... I still say you'd be safer in my room, but I understand your wish for privacy."

"I'll take my chances," Anders nodded. "You know I'm not..."

"I know," Dorian smirked. "But when have I ever..?"

"Never."

"Well then," Dorian shrugged. "And since it's all just smoke and mirrors..."

"The room next to yours will be fine."

One night Anders' theory was put to a test. An assassin sneaked past the guards or perhaps entered through an attic window, and got as far as the Master Suite. Then Dorian's personal guards raised an alarm. The assassin was apprehended.

"Antivan Crows, well, well!" Dorian looked over the assassin, now safely locked up in the dungeon. "I am honoured. But of course you were not after me."

"Your slave, the Grey Warden," the assassin nodded. "If you think I'll tell you more, you are mistaken. I don't know anything more. He was my target and I failed, so you can kill me now, or else the Crows will."

"Yes, I know how you operate," Dorian agreed. "We'll keep you under observation for a bit. I expect the Crows will try again. Let's see how many of your guild mates we can assemble here. We do have a lot of empty cells."

Dorian doubled the guards around his suite and raised their wages. "With every apprehended Crow, you get another raise," he said. Nothing motivated better than a promise of a raise.

In the weeks that followed the Crows tried several times to get to Anders, and each time the assassin was apprehended and thrown into the dungeon. It was going so well that Anders and the others started to relax and got busy. They didn't have any solid leads on the escaped elven gods, but they had to start somewhere. Red lyrium was definitely a lead, the Venatori also, and both were pointing to Minrathous, that is, somewhere right under the noses of our heroes. And so when all lines of polite inquiry were exhausted, they decided to take the fight to the Venatori, literally. One of those dens, one of those safe houses would have some documents, some clues, some information on the escaped gods, they hoped. "When it is unclear how to proceed, proceed with what is clear," Varric would declare whenever one of them voiced any doubts. "We need to find escaped ancient gods... That's an impossible task! We've got to start somewhere..." He would say.

"So, let me get this straight," Bellara spoke quite firmly one evening, looking at Varric. "You have no clue what you are doing. This is not an expedition to study elven artefacts. This is nothing like what your advertisement promised," she glared. "And while I have no plans to leave, I do resent the deceit."

"Agreed," Davrin joined in. "This is not a monster hunting expedition either!"

"And we've seen no dragons so far!" Taash nodded.

"Well, at least it's better than being bored," Harding smiled. "I'm not disappointed. I didn't expect anything in particular, though. I don't understand why you thought this was a study of elven artefacts, Bellara," she shot her a glance. "And I don't see any mention of hunting monsters here either, Davrin," she looked straight at him. "Perhaps you just saw what you wanted to see... read between the lines or something."

"No, I think we didn't!" Davrin exclaimed hotly. "Where's that notice? Let's review!"

Fighters and mages are invited to take part in a rare enterprise with the purpose of finding and defeating ancient elven gods poised to destroy the world. Be prepared for battle! Ancient magic, monsters, dragons... All of it awaits! Write to Varric at the Swan in Minrathous if you wish to apply.

"That advert was quite literal, Varric," Professor Volkarin smiled. "Which is why no one believed it. They all thought you were exaggerating... they all read in it what they wanted to read." He looked at Bellara and Davrin across the table. "How very clever of you."

"Sometimes the truth is more fantastic than any fantasy," Varric grinned. "But to be fair to Taash - we have not seen any dragons yet. But I am certain there will be some in the future."

"You never said this enterprise would be lead by a disgraced Grey Warden," Davrin looked at Varric darkly. "That's essential information!"

"And you never asked during the interview," Varric shrugged. "Besides, he wasn't yet disgraced at the time of writing..."

"Can we just stop arguing?" Bellara raised her voice and blushed for some reason. "Professor Volkarin is right. We imagined things... we never asked questions... I know I didn't... I also talk too much..." She stared at her plate.

"Please call me Emmrich, everyone," Professor Volkarin said cheerfully. "It's time to drop ceremony, yes, please, I insist. We should become a team if we want to get anywhere... Since the task before us is quite impossible as it is, not just impossible to believe, but plain impossible."

"I suppose Grey Wardens have always accepted all kinds of riff-raff into their ranks..." Davrin glared at Anders. "The First Warden is furious with you, Anders. You burned down his favourite bar."

"Oh, I am so relieved to earn your forgiveness..." Anders glared back. "Like, really."

"Yeah, yeah, that's fine," Davrin gave him a broad smile of superiority. "I won't arrest you. Yet. But I'm watching you, mage!" He glared again.

Dorian laughed. Varric shook his head. Professor Volkarin made a note in his diary.

"I'm with Anders," Taash said unexpectedly. "My mother was right - he's the man. Didn't try to make me into a woman... a wise choice," she grinned. "He knows his stuff and his magic tickles."

"What..?" Anders was perplexed. "That's..."

"You talk in your sleep, Kadash," Taash smiled.

"Right, shall we perhaps return to the matter of finding escaped elven gods?" Dorian cleared his throat. "Before other embarrassing revelations come to light?" He shot Taash a glance. "The qunari don't do discretion... mostly... I was quite surprised by it myself at some point..." he smiled to the memory.

"Here's to the Iron Bull! May he rest in peace," Varric raised a toast. "He was a good one."

"Always fun to have around," Anders seconded the toast.

"The best spy we've had," Harding joined in. "Even if he betrayed us in the end."

"He didn't; he never lied about his duties," Anders objected. "He always said he was faithful to the Qun. So when he had to make a choice... he did what we should have expected."

"I didn't like that I had to kill him," Dorian said gravely. "But he came at me..."

"He knew your power, Dorian," Varric nodded. "The mage that held the party together."

They fell silent for a minute, honouring their late friend, then drank their toasts. Taash was watching in fascination, then straightened up and drank a toast with them. To the Qun.

After that evening they redoubled their efforts in tracking down and engaging every Venatori cell in Minrathous hoping for clues pointing to something larger than a network of blood mages. Yet all their efforts appeared in vain, apart from the fact that removing Venatori was useful in itself, like clearing puss from a wound. And then something unexpected happened: a dragon attacked Minrathous.

"A dragon! An actual dragon!!" Taash ran into the salon and everyone looked up. "Do you hear it? The roar! The mayhem! It's out there thrashing the city!!!"

She ran out again, with everyone following. The dragon had to be stopped.

...

"It was a blighted dragon," Taash was cleaning black blood off her axes and armour as if it was the most repulsive thing in the world, and it probably was. "They blighted the dragon!" She was furious. "The nerve!!" She hissed, accidentally setting curtains on fire with her breath. "They captured a dragon and blighted it!!!" She roared.

"We'll find them, Taash," Harding wasn't afraid of the flames, just careful. "Don't burn down the house."

"Sorry," Taash tried to calm down. "It's just... dragons are majestic creatures! Proud! Powerful! Intelligent! Dragons don't get blighted like other animals, did you know that? They are too smart for it!"

"Dragons are monsters!" Davrin shook his head, he seemed to be as angry as Taash, for very different reasons. "Archdemons are dragons! They lead the Blight! Grey Wardens slay Archdemons! And sacrifice their lives for that! Become heroes! I should have died!"

"You failed to kill that dragon, n'wah!" Taash came down hard on him. "The dragon flew off! Have you gone blind?!"

"The dragon did fly off," Professor Volkarin stood between them. "You must stop your hostilities. We lacked focus today, and that is why the dragon got away, but not before it laid waste to Minrathous. We must focus."

"I'll focus!" Taash and Davrin cried in unison, each launching an attack on the other, and both being repelled by professor's conjured orb.

"I cannot allow any further infighting," he said, looking at them in turn. "Calm down."

"Is everyone alright?" Varric entered the room, his recently broken leg still slowing him down. "Where is Anders?"

"I cannot find him anywhere," Dorian stood behind Varric. "I cannot find his corpse either," he looked worried.

That really cooled off the tensions.

"I can search through the Veil," Bellara brought a large artefact from her room. "If he passed through, there will be a ripple."

"You won't find him this way, Bellara," professor shook his head. "With so many dead in the dragon attack, there's a storm in the Veil right now."

Bellara still tried to work her artefact, filling the room with the faint green glow of the Veil magic, but after a while she had to give up - the professor was right.

"So what do we do?" She looked up.

"We elect a new leader," Davrin said with confidence. "We are dealing with the Blight, so you need a Grey Warden - a real Grey Warden! I shall assume command." He straightened up, stomach in, chest out.

"No." Taash spit fire into a vase.

"I qualify," Davrin glared at her.

"No!" Harding shook her head.

"I am the real Warden!" Davrin raised his voice.

"I said no!" One punch in the jaw was all it took and Davrin rolled around on the floor. "Ugh..." Taash looked at him with disgust. "A real Warden my foot!"

"We should eat and rest for now..." Dorian stepped forward. "As best we can..." he looked down at Davrin. "Tomorrow we'll mount a proper search... call in some favours... hire a private eye if we have to..."

"If you have any of his blood..." Professor Volkarin said softly. "There are rituals... we can trace him with that..."

"Blood magic," Dorian sighed. "We may have to... I thought you'd disapprove?" He looked at the professor with a question.

"Ordinarily, yes," he nodded. "But sometimes it is the only right tool for the job..."





~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Nov 20 2024, 11:50 AM

[Lena Wolf]

Hearthfire, 3E410 - A personal demon

Anders woke up on a hard surface, and as a result his body felt broken. He looked around - he was lying on a thin mat in a cell of some dungeon. A faint salty odour hung in the air. "A prison overlooking the sea," he thought. "So, not the Warden's prison at the Head Quarters. But whose, then?" His cell had a solid door, so all he could see was rock. A small opening above the door was letting in some light and some air, but otherwise the cell was cut off from the world.

He got up and stretched, no, his bones did not seem to be broken. He had some small cuts that someone took care to bandage. His things were missing. He was dressed in a simple cloth robe that wasn't his own. "At least I can still cast spells," he noted, conjuring up a small ball of light. No one tempered with his magic.

The light allowed him to look around the cell, but there wasn't much to see. He noticed a drain in the corner; that was all. "At least the place is warm," Anders thought, sitting down on the mat. "The rock is warm... We're either in a really warm country or in the Deep Roads or else it is heated by magic." Neither of those prospects were particularly appealing. If someone went to great lengths to keep their prisoners alive and healthy, it didn't bode well. It could be in fact the worst kind of prison. Anders shivered involuntarily recalling the darkspawn prison in the Deep Roads where Grey Wardens were kept for their blood and other prisoners were used as soil to grow red lyrium. He was still a Grey Warden... "They are after my blood again," he thought, examining the bandages. "But it's twenty years on... this will be twenty times worse," he sighed.

His deductions were confirmed some time later when a mage entered his cell to examine his condition. "We may begin extraction," the mage said to his subordinates. "If the results come back as positive as I expect, we can proceed with implantation." He left. That mage wasn't even trying to keep it secret from Anders - he was sure that Anders would not be able to fight back. A red lyrium crystal was installed in the small opening above the door some time later, and Anders felt his magicka drain and his will falter. No, he would not be able to fight back. "And Wolf is back in Tamriel," Anders smirked to himself. "I guess it's time to grow up... face up... whatever it is..." he shook his head. "Wolf isn't coming to pull me out of this one."

He sat there considering his options which weren't many. He felt certain that "extraction" referred to his blood, that it would be tested for his Grey Warden taint, and if found satisfactory, he would be implanted with a red lyrium crystal to... "No, they would not use a Grey Warden to just grow red lyrium," he corrected himself. "Unless it was some special type of red lyrium? Hmm... No, it's something else..."

"You aren't just another Grey Warden," a hoarse hissing voice objected. "They have special plans for you."

"What? Who said this?" Anders looked up, but there was no one in his cell. "Oh, you're in my head. Great." The red lyrium crystal above the door was obviously giving him hallucinations.

"I am not in your head," the voice sounded offended.

"Well, you are not in my cell, you are not just outside of my cell, so then you must be in my head," Anders reasoned. "Begone, hallucination!"

"You're worse than he! At least he's not trying to push me out."

"He - who?"

"Lucanis."

"Who is Lucanis?"

"The mortal whose body I've been forced to possess..." The voice sighed and a crow flew into Anders' cell, right through the red lyrium crystal.

"Oh, now I'm certain you are a hallucination!" Anders smirked. "Yeah, I know a thing or two about possession... Don't remind me," he shook his head.

"If you keep dismissing me, you'll soon have another implanted," the crow cocked its head.

"What..? Is that..?"

"They make abominations here, yes," the crow was pacing the cell. "Force demons into mortals. We can't leave, you know! They lock us in!"

"Oh you poor demons," Anders smirked.

"Demons are only spirits whose purpose had been perverted," the crow lectured. "You should know! Justice started out all good and proper... and then..."

"Yeah, my anger turned him..."

"Not your anger, you twat," the crow swore. "He saw too much of your mortal world... that was what perverted him. It took a lot of talking and bonding with Faith to get him back to himself, as I recall."

"You recall?" Anders squinted at the crow. "If I even buy any of that from a hallucination."

"Suit yourself," the crow flew up and perched on the ledge above the door. "Wolf ain't coming for you now, Blondie." It vanished.

To be quite honest, Anders missed Wolf. Anders never had parents to speak of, he orphaned very young and was adopted by his uncle's family. They weren't cruel to him but he always felt beneath their own children. And then, when his magic manifested itself around the age of seven, they outright shunned him, locking him up in the barn lest he set the house on fire. A few days later templars arrived and took him away to the Circle Tower in Ferelden, a huge, austere building of grey stone, cold to the touch and to the soul - or at least this was how it felt to Anders. He refused to tell them his name. They called him "Anders" - one from the Anderfels. The name stuck. After a time Anders made friends among the other children in the tower and discovered that his story was far from unique... and that even those who were not orphaned, were also shunned, locked away and deported in much the same way. But because it were their own parents that denounced them, Anders felt it was even worse.

Wolf appeared in Anders' life when Anders was preparing to die. He dabbled in blood magic, he had been discovered, he escaped - successfully this time, thanks to his blood magic spells, but he trusted the wrong person who got him so much deeper into trouble, that he was now facing execution. Locked up in a dungeon awaiting his end, Anders was looking back on his life of attempts at escaping the Circle Tower and only saw imprisonment, one way or the other. He was twenty two. His life had been devoid of meaning. But it wasn't the meaning of life that Anders was contemplating when he heard noises at the end of the corridor. He hadn't eaten in days and was hoping that may be the guards would finally bring him some food. Instead, he saw two Grey Wardens, a witch and a dog staring at him through the bars. The older Grey Warden appeared to be in charge. The young witch was friendly, the young Grey Warden was not, the dog was only interested in the bones in the corner of the cell. The Grey Warden let him out. There was an upheaval in the castle, walking corpses killing everyone in sight... Did he want to stay locked up or be let out? The Warden asked. He actually asked what Anders wanted. Let out. Of course let out. He still had some magic to deal with the corpses... he could hide, perhaps...

"And then he gave me his blood so that I could escape," Anders remembered that day a year or more later when Wolf decided to break him out of the Circle Tower once and for all. "And with that blood I got his taint..." he smiled. "I would have joined them anyway," he reflected. "There's no other place in this world for me but among the Grey Wardens."

But Wolf was now back in Tamriel, and Anders was on his own. Of course, it wasn't the first time that he had to stand up for himself, but it was the first time he knew that Wolf would not be coming for him. And neither would be any of his fellow Wardens. This time Anders was truly alone.

"If there ever was a messed up person, he's right here," he smirked to himself. "I am no dragon kin like Wolf. I cannot breathe fire like Taash, I cannot talk to spirits like Emmrich, I cannot turn into a bird like Morrigan..." he sighed. "I am not getting out of here."

"You are a blood mage though," the hoarse voice from before suddenly replied. "Stop wallowing in self-pity and break that red lyrium crystal! They are coming for you."

Anders heard footsteps echoing along the corridor. The demon was right, the footsteps were getting closer. He looked around - there was nothing in his cell that he could use to cut the veins on his wrist. Nothing. His captors had been thorough.

"Well... desperate times..." He steeled himself, ready for action. As the footsteps approached his cell and he heard a key turn in the lock, he channeled his desperation into willpower and bit his wrist with a sharp, decisive bite. Blood shot in all directions, hitting the door and the crystal above the door, and even landing a few drops on the mage that was about to enter. Anders quickly cast two spells: a lightning bolt to fracture the red lyrium crystal and a toxic cloud to fill the room. The mage behind the door inhaled sharply out of sheer surprise and doubled over in coughs, dropping his dagger and vials. He did not have guards with him - the prisoner would have been subdued by the crystal...

"You will make a good assassin," a hoarse voice hissed in Anders' ear once he slit the mage's throat and quickly pulled his body into the cell, closing the door. "Now, get dressed and follow me! Lucanis is waiting."

"Who?" Anders looked up at the crow perched above the door. "Oh, the man you're possessing... umm... except you're not in his body. But whatever! Lucanis can save his own skin, I'm getting out of here!"

"No!!" The crow hissed and a lightning bolt hit Anders right where it hurt. "I said you follow me!!"

"Huh?" Anders was ready. "A demon out of the body... Who is this Lucanis anyway?"

"An assassin... a Crow!" The crow replied not without some pride. "You will rescue him. You must! Or else he and I will die here both!"

"Oh yes, now I see!" Anders smirked. "It's not your host that you are worried about, it's your own sorry existence! Well, you aren't the first demon I faced! Get lost or else..!"

"No, no, listen to me, Blondie!" The crow transformed into a man's ghost. "You need Lucanis. You need him to fight your elven gods."

"What..? Oh, you are the demon from the letter!" Anders recalled one of the scrolls delivered to Varric. "I do not need abominations with me, thanks! Now, get lost!!" Anders had had enough of that demon. What kind of a demon was it, anyway? It wasn't Pride or Rage, he was quite certain.

"I am Determination!" The demon replied to Anders' thoughts. "And yes, I can read your mind, of course. Here, anyway. You should hurry. The Venatori will soon discover what you've done."

"The Venatori..?"

"Yes, the pesky blood mages that you've been harassing for the past month! In vain, I might add," the demon smirked. "But they are involved, of course. They serve those gods you're after. Only they cannot lead you to the gods as such. The gods will come to you at the time of their choosing, not yours, mortal! For they are gods! What else did you expect?" The demon laughed watching Anders taken aback by those words. "And when they come to you - when they come for you, Warden," the demon came closer. "Then you must be ready."

"You don't sound like a demon," Anders looked closely at the ghost of a man before him. "Determination... I've never heard of a demon by that name."

"This way, Anders," the ghost moved down a corridor. "Lucanis cannot be freed until you destroy his phylactery. You know everything about phylacteries, I believe," he smiled, speaking calmly. "This way. Yours should be around here somewhere as well..."

Their progress through the dungeon was swift, as there were hardly any guards around. They found a storage room with phylacteries, and the demon shot a lightning bolt through that one of Lucanis. Anders found his and destroyed that as well. His wrist was bleeding from the jagged bite wound, but he had to admit it was worth it. Eventually they came to a larger hall with corridors leading off in different directions. As they entered, Anders froze in place. They were under water. The walls were magically holding the sea at bay. It was an inverse aquarium.

"The underwater prison!" Anders realised. "Do you know the way out?" He looked at the demon.

"I do and you don't," the demon smiled. "Follow me - Lucanis is that way. You need blood to open the seal, blood of one particular person..."

"But you won't tell me until we free Lucanis," Anders guessed. "Oh alright... you win."

Unlike Anders' cell, Lucanis' cell was guarded. They dispatched the guards, yet did not find a key. The heavy door was locked and would not respond to magic or brute force.

"It's too bad you are not a master thief," the demon lamented. "Follow me, Blondie... more fighting awaits!"

They lost count how many guards they killed. None of the guards carried any keys, and with all the tumult every single one of them was awake and ready for a fight.

"That's your brilliant plan, is it? To kill every single guard in this prison?!" Anders was getting annoyed. "I'll bleed myself dry by the time we find the keys!"

"At which point you can start bleeding Lucanis instead," the demon grinned. "He can take a few cuts, he's used to it in his line of work. And anyway - why are you not bleeding the guards?"

"They die too quickly," Anders replied darkly. "Blood donors have to be prepared! It isn't as simple as slicing open their wrists..!"

"Well, you are the expert," the demon shrugged. "Oh look - we hit the jackpot, I think."

They entered a laboratory. Large glass jars were lining the walls but instead of grotesque pickled organs they contained spirits. Some were only shades, others looked like ghosts, yet others were glowing softly like giant fireflies. Labels indicated what kind of spirits they were.

"Compassion, Empathy, Diligence, Bravery, Honour... These are good spirits," Anders looked at the demon. "What is going on?"

"When a spirit is forced into a mortal, when it finds itself imprisoned in someone else's space, it gets twisted and corrupt. The mortal's soul is still there as well, and if the spirit is to survive and take full possession of the host, it has to kill it... Or find a way to co-exist... You know how that feels." The demon looked at Anders and smiled. "These spirits will change... and to speed up the process, the host will be tortured."

"Abuse, Manipulation, Tyranny, Madness, Pride..." Anders realised the goal of the experiment.

"Or something along those lines," the demon nodded. "It depends on the host."

"Then... who are you?" Anders looked at him but the demon drifted away and did not answer.

"I think it's here," he called from the other end of the room. "The key to Lucanis' cell."

...

"Who are you?" A man looking exactly like the ghost form of the demon stepped out of the cell. "I mean, thank you for freeing me, but why did you do it?"

"Your demon made me," Anders shrugged. "I am..."

"Rook," the demon stood between them. "Call him Rook. Everything is prepared. Let's go."

"You are staying here," Lucanis said forcefully. "Here is where you belong, demon!"

"I beg to differ!" The demon hissed. "I found him! I arranged your way out! He resisted! I prepared your escape - I am coming with you!"

The demon took a step forward and merged with Lucanis. Anders shivered - it was all too familiar.

"The blood that opens the outer seal is in that fancy vase," Lucanis spoke with the voice of the demon and pointed at an elaborate floral display at the end of the hall. "The Venus flower," he smiled. "Try not to get eaten."

"Shut up!" Lucanis made an effort and regained control of his voice and body. "Let's get out of here, Rook. We'll talk later."

The seal on a massive door was unlocked, the door swung open, a dusty dim corridor stretched before them. They could not see a thing but Anders sensed magic in the depths. It was an eluvian.

"Where does this lead?" Lucanis tried to make out what the eluvian was showing, but it was too dark.

"I don't know," Anders sighed. "Give me your hand. Wherever it is, we should stick together."

[Lena Wolf]

Hearthfire, 3E410 - Another dragon

"Lie still or I'll cut too deep," Anders stood over Lucanis with a dagger in his hand.

"Do we have to?" Lucanis groaned. "I'm not used to this..."

"Shush, we do have to," Anders said softly. "I'll be gentle."

The cavern around them was dimly lit but Anders had set up torches around a slab in the middle. Lucanis lay on the slab with no clothes on. A deep wound was cutting across his abdomen.

"Try to relax... or I'll have to knock you out," Anders tried to calm Lucanis who was shivering uncomfortably.

"How can I even be sure you know what you are doing, blood mage?" Lucanis grimaced. "The cuts on my wrists are still bleeding..."

"That's because they were used for casting magic," Anders sighed. "I am sorry. There was no other way. That dragon was too much."

"Dragons usually are," Lucanis sighed and groaned again.

"You see - that wound is hurting badly. Now, relax. I am in fact a healer." Lucanis tried to object but Anders sent a wave of healing magic into the wound easing the pain.

"Alright, healer," Lucanis closed his eyes. "Do what you must."

...

The eluvian that they stepped through in the underwater prison, led to Treviso - the Antivan city where Lucanis used to live. That was the good news. The bad news was that Treviso was under attack by a dragon.

"That's another blighted dragon!" Anders charged towards it as soon as they were on solid ground. "Round up the guards! Prepare the ballistas! This is not a drill!!!"

"Treviso has no guards or ballistas," Lucanis was right behind Anders. "Treviso just has the Crows."

He lunged at the dragon. A huge pair of spirit wings lifted him into the air. He dived like a hawk chasing prey, blades extended.

"Impressive!" Anders grinned. "That demon isn't just a pretty face!"

The dragon was thrashing the city, much like the first dragon laying waste to Minrathous. The Crows attacked it from every angle, and the sight of Lucanis both rallied and frightened them - he'd been gone for over a year, presumed dead, and now he was back and had wings..? People didn't know what to think. Fortunately, they didn't have the time to think about it, the dragon was taking all of their attention. They noticed a mage charging at the dragon as well... a mage they'd never seen before. Some crazy mage dressed in Minrathous garb... a Venatori? A Venatori helping them fight? It was perplexing, but again, there was no time to think. He was fighting the dragon, and hence he was an ally.

The dragon was not to be taken lightly. It swung its massive tail and people were buried under the rubble of what used to be a bridge. It breathed lightning and people fell and many did not get up.

"Stay clear of the dragon!!!" Anders shouted to everyone who could hear. "Do not approach!!!"

People stepped back, switching to bows, everyone did their best but the dragon was just too much. Lucanis dived at it several times wounding it but could not kill it. The dragon was now enraged. The next time Lucanis dived, the dragon slashed through him with a talon. Lucanis fell, unable to rise.

"That's bad," Anders told himself, ignoring the dragon and running up to Lucanis. He dragged him to the side, noting a huge gash through his belly.

"We've got to stop that dragon," Lucanis said with a faltering voice. "But I am out... You are a blood mage, are you not? Use my blood... It's better I die doing something useful than just lie in this gutter and watch my city burn..."

Anders did what he could. His fire and ice gave the dragon a pause, but Lucanis was fading fast. He saw that they could not defeat the dragon and he refused to take a life for that. One last spell... make it count.

"Demon, I command you!" He opened a rift to the Fade. Lucanis' demon rose to it and summoned a thunderstorm. The dragon faltered, then rose and flew away. Anders tried to close the rift, but Lucanis' demon got pulled into the Fade and Lucanis was dying, he would be dead for certain without the demon's support. Anders pulled him over his shoulder and stepped into the Fade. The rift closed behind him.

...

"Another dragon attacked Treviso in Antiva!" Varric walked into the salon of the Pavus Manor in Minrathous. "It's all over the papers! And Blondie was there!"

"A dragon attacks Treviso and is repelled by a Venatori mage!" Dorian read the paper. "Dragon flew off and the mage disappeared! Sightings of the Demon of Vyrantium are reported, but no sign of him remains. Was the dragon sent by the Venatori? Is it another attempt by Tevinter to invade Antiva? - Etcetera, etcetera." Dorian tossed the paper aside. "The Venatori! They do not command dragons, of that I am certain!"

"I see no mention of Anders in this," Emmrich picked up the paper. "Why do you say he was there?"

"The Venatori mage," Varric pointed at the line. "He was dressed as a Venatori for some reason or other... probably scavenged their robes. Skip the political crap and read the end of the article."

"An anomaly in the Veil was seen above the dragon, sending a lightning of a magnitude beyond a mortal mage. Authorities suspect blood magic, but as no trace of the mage or his sacrifice remains, they are at an impasse. Another attempt by Tevinter... Yeah, yeah, and all that," Emmrich read. "Blood magic, eh? But Anders is not the only blood mage around," he pointed out.

"No, but do you really believe that some Venatori mage traveled all the way to Treviso in order to fight a dragon?" Varric smirked.

"That would be just something Anders would do," Harding nodded. "Something stupid."

"This is all well and good, but we still don't know where he is," Taash joined in. "The paper says he vanished."

"It also says a rift opened and closed there," Bellara brought her ancient artefact and set it up on the table. "That I should be able to trace."

She started working the artefact and everyone stopped talking. The room was filled with the faint green glow of the Fade once again.

"I see it," Emmrich pointed out something only he and Bellara could see. "Azimuth mark six."

"A disturbance," Bellara nodded.

"Someone opened a rift and passed through the Veil there."

"A mortal... and a spirit."

"Strange."

"Well?" Everyone looked at them with a question. "Where is he?"

"He's in the Fade," Bellara said apologetically. "I don't know where exactly."

"There are no coordinates in the Fade!" Dorian shook his head. "The Fade has no dimensions!"

"That isn't strictly true..." Emmrich started, but then gave up. "Such theories won't help us. The Fade has infinitely many pockets; he could be on any of them."

"Who is the Demon of Vyrantium?" Davrin was reading the paper now. "It says here: the Demon of Vyrantium was seen with the mage. Who is it?"

"That is one of the most famous assassins of the Antivan Crows," a woman entered the room. "You sent for me, Pavus? I warn you - I do not work for free."

"I would not dream of it!" Dorian beamed at her. "Everyone, meet Neve Gallus, a private investigator and a remarkable mage. Neve, may I present..."

"No need, I know who you all are," she interrupted him rather abruptly. "And the one that's not here is our missing man, am I correct?"

"That sums it up nicely," Emmrich gave a short laugh. "Have you not found him yet?"

"No, but since he is a slave, his phylactery will lead us to him," Neve looked at Dorian. "You did take his phylactery, right?"

"Err..."

"Oh." Neve shook her head. "Can't you do anything right?" She sighed in exasperation. "But never mind. He is also a blood mage. The city guard will have his phylactery."

"Well..." Dorian gave her a weak smile. "I hear there's been an accident at the archives..."

"Right," Neve smirked. "The Grey Wardens? Do they keep track of phylacteries?"

"No, we do not!" Davrin cut her off with pathos. "That's barbaric!"

"It would have been useful for finding him right now," Neve shrugged. "But I see you value freedom over safety."

"The Chantry in Ferelden might have his phylactery," Harding offered in a small voice. "He used to be a Circle mage after all..."

"Don't tell me there'd been an accident there as well?" Neve glared at Varric who was about to say something.

"No, I was actually going to say that we should also have his blood somewhere in Kirkwall..."

"That is all too far away," Neve decided. "We'll have to try something else."

"That is all rather irrelevant as well," Emmrich finally spoke. "Since we have already established that he is in the Fade."

"Together with the Demon of Vyrantium?" Neve's eyes lit up.

"May be... we don't know," Emmrich had to admit.

"I saw a mortal and a spirit enter the Fade, not two mortals," Bellara said in a fallen voice. "It was probably someone else."

"No, no, the Demon of Vyrantium is an abomination," Neve smiled. "What you saw was most likely two mortals and a demon, but one of the mortals was dead."

...

"This is not good," Anders shook his head after yet another examination of Lucanis' wound. "It isn't healing."

"I can sustain him indefinitely," the demon replied. "There is no rush."

"The wound is not healing because Lucanis is dead," Anders looked at the demon. "You are animating his dead body. Can you not feel it?"

"He is almost dead but not completely," the demon objected. "His soul is still here. His corpse is not decomposing."

"It isn't a corpse if he is not yet dead," Anders tried to feel the pulse but there was none. "He is still warm... he's staying warm... Something is keeping him here..."

"He's stubborn," the demon smirked. "Defying death."

"Who are you?" Anders turned to the demon. "Determination is your spirit name. But you are a demon now. So, who are you?"

The demon twisted in his seat, got up and paced about, even walked out of the cave and immediately returned.

"Spite," he hissed. "He calls me Spite. I call myself Determination."

"Ah," Anders smiled. "That's telling. He'll pull through. All I have to do is keep him warm since I cannot give him my blood. Once his heart starts beating again, you'll help me move him. I know just where to go."

...

It was hard to tell how much time had passed but eventually Lucanis stabilised. He could not walk yet, but Anders insisted on moving him anyway.

"This is the Fade," he told Spite. "Your realm. Find a way to the Lighthouse. You know, the place..."

"...that Solas built, yes, I know," Spite looked at him darkly. "You don't like this cave, I can tell..."

Once the way was found, Spite opened a portal to it, it was as simple as that.

"The Lighthouse is neither here nor there," Spite kept complaining. "It is neither pure Fade nor is it Mundus. Both spirits and mortals can walk here, things from the mortal realm exist here and keep their substance! It is crazy!"

"It is not crazy," Anders objected. "My things are still here, it's got a bath and a kitchen! I can get out of these bloody robes and finally have a meal! Lucanis too. We mortals have to eat!"

...

"So, you found my Lighthouse," Solas entered the room. "I'd say welcome if it were so."

"What do you want?" Anders scowled at him. He was in the infirmary wing, with Lucanis sleeping on a cot next to him.

"It's time you started on the escaped gods, Anders," Solas said sternly. "Instead of gallivanting through the Fade picking up lovers."

"What?!" Anders rose, his fists clenched. "Get out of here, Solas!"

"It's my house," Solas smiled dryly. "And you are an unwelcome guest."

Anders felt rage rising in him. The whole thing was Solas' fault, yet here he was lecturing him on what he should be doing. Picking up lovers, indeed! He didn't want Lucanis with him in the first place, but Spite insisted, and then he could not just leave him there to die... Nothing to do with love, just a decent thing any healer would do... Anders glared at Solas and hit him square on the jaw. And realised that his fist went through Solas is if he wasn't there.

"I am still in that prison where your stupidity landed me," Solas said with derision. "Swing all you like."

"You are in my head," Anders glared.

"Indeed. When you dream in my house..."

"As soon as Lucanis can walk, we are leaving." Anders said firmly and woke up.

"What happened?" Lucanis sat up on his cot. "You were thrashing."

"We should return to Minrathous," Anders said darkly. "This Lighthouse has eyes and ears."

"Back to the mortal realm?" Spite appeared next to Lucanis. "Finally! I hate this place, it's neither here nor there..."

"As soon as you can walk," Anders said to Lucanis, ignoring Spite.

"I can walk!" Lucanis jumped off his cot to demonstrate and doubled up in pain.

"No! You'll tear up the stitches! Get back on your cot!" Anders jumped to his aid, lifting him up to the cot again. "It's bleeding, you must have ripped something... let me see."

"Stop fussing over me! It will pass," Lucanis protested.

"I must see," Anders insisted. "I must make sure I didn't miss anything... that I cut out every bit... that it isn't spreading."

"What are you talking about?" Lucanis' voice fell.

"The blight," Anders gave him a long look. "Do you not remember? The dragon..."

"I remember the dragon," Lucanis nodded. "I remember getting this gash... I remember you cleaning the wound afterwards... The blight? What are you saying?"

"The dragon was blighted," Anders bent over the wound, examining the bleeding. "I had to remove every bit of the blight from your wound before it infected your blood. I tried to be thorough... but if I missed something..."

"Death comes to all of us," Lucanis sighed. "How long?"

"It varies..."

"How do you know all of this?"

"I am a Grey Warden," Anders paused, looking up from the wound. "I carry the taint. I cannot be blighted, as I already am... but you are a different matter."

"He is not blighted," Spite stood next to Anders again. "I would sense it. Justice could hear the song through you..."

"What? Who's Justice?" Lucanis sat up. "Why do I get the feeling Spite knows you better than I?"

"He does..." Anders sighed. "He... well... perhaps I should tell you about Justice."

[Lena Wolf]

Hearthfire, 3E410 - Neve Gallus

"The Demon of Vyrantium has been missing for over a year," Dorian squinted at Neve. "He was just a man before he vanished. But you say he is an abomination now. Elaborate."

"The Demon of Vyrantium is not the man you want found," Neve inclined her head. "My job is to find your slave, not to reveal my sources."

"Your job just changed," Dorian glared at her. "There's a suspicion the Venatori were involved in Lucanis' disappearance. You are with the Shadow Dragons. If you maintain contacts inside Venatori circles, I have to know." He stood tall before her, every bit Magister Pavus rather than a friend.

"Well, I suppose I owe you some explanation," Neve smiled. "Shadow Dragons do not need to doubt my loyalty... although I can see how it looks." She paused but Dorian did not change his stance - he really wanted to hear it. "Oh very well... I have contacts inside the Venatori... Lucanis had been kidnapped. The underwater prison - you've heard of that, right? That's where he'd been taken." She paused again, hoping that was enough, but Dorian was still staring at her and she continued. "They make abominations there... the way they imprison a spirit inside a mortal... make it possess the mortal... it perverts the spirit and creates a demon, each of a different kind. Lucanis is a master assassin, they had high hopes for the demon in him."

"And yet Lucanis is still imprisoned," Dorian wasn't taking his eyes off Neve. "Or was until just recently. They haven't used his demon. Why not?"

"You know Lucanis - he's stubborn," Neve shrugged. "The demon came out all wrong."

"Then why not change it?" Dorian asked in an even tone that made everyone shiver.

"They can't," Neve met Dorian's gaze. "Once implanted, the demon is bonded with the mortal for good."

"Your source?" Dorian wasn't giving up.

"I... I am a double agent," Neve finally admitted. "But I am loyal to the Shadow Dragons, that I swear."

"A triple agent, more likely," Dorian smirked. "You forgot to mention the Threads."

"Well. That's old news," Neve smiled. "Besides, they know I'm with Shadow Dragons."

"So, Anders," Dorian changed the topic. "If he is with Lucanis, he was in the same underwater prison somehow. A Venatori prison," he pointed out. "Now talk."

"I don't know!" Neve exclaimed, shaking her head. "It weren't the Venatori who kidnapped him! Or at least I haven't heard of such a plan... Why do it? What for? He's just a slave..."

"Neve!" Dorian frowned. "Not good enough."

"Well... I do know why they might be interested..." she looked down. "But I am not aware of any plans regarding him yet! He's being chased by the Wardens, the Crows are after him, he's too hot for the Venatori."

"Who sent the Crows?"

"The Wardens, I would presume," Neve shrugged.

"You presume?" Dorian started sounding downright menacing.

"I don't have sources with the Wardens! Or the Crows!" Neve took a step back. "I'm good, but not omnipresent!"

"Then you will find out," Dorian said firmly. "Yes, you will have your fee, do not fret. I want to know who sent the Crows. Lucanis is a Crow. We need to know where we stand."

He turned his back to her and poured himself coffee, then took a seat by the fire at the head of the room.

"Come back when you have news," he said, then switched his attention to the coffee. Neve turned around and left.

...

"Well, that was intense," Varric spoke after a while. "You really run the Shadow Dragons."

"I do not," Dorian shook his head. "I am their contact at the Magisterium. Well... may be more than that," he smiled. "The Viper runs them day to day." He stirred his coffee, then took a sip, savouring the aroma. "The Viper does not tolerate spies."

...

"So then, Warden, you know how I feel," Lucanis was watching Anders pace the infirmary wing. Telling the story of Justice brought back a lot of memories and made Anders agitated. "You rid yourself of your demon - spirit turned demon - and I want to rid myself of mine," he glared at Spite who was watching both of them. "While we are in the Fade... the connection has to be severed. When we return to Mundus, Spite stays behind!"

"It's not the same, I cannot sever the bond!" Spite hissed. "I was forced into you, I am locked in! Justice possessed Anders on his own."

"Well, I cannot have a demon in my body!!" Lucanis retorted with anger. "One way or the other, you will be OUT!!!"

"Oh, there is a way," Spite said in an unexpectedly calm voice. "You have to die."

"That'll kill you as well, Spite," Anders pointed out.

"Good!" Lucanis frowned. "Spite will be dead! If that's what it takes..."

"Stop it!" Anders cried. "Just listen to yourselves! You are both Spite!"

"He is the reason I turned into Spite!" The demon jumped up. "I am a spirit of Determination! He made me into Spite!"

Lucanis jumped off his cot ignoring the pain. He lunged at Spite... but since Spite was just a spirit, he went right through him.

"Damned demon!!!" He shouted.

"You cannot touch me, you are no mage!" Spite shouted back, sending a lightning bolt at Lucanis. "I am the source of your magic! Without me, you have no wings!"

Lucanis paled but not because he was angry. He doubled over, pressing down on his abdomen.

"Shut it, Spite!!" Anders sent a lightning bolt of his own at Spite. "Enough! I didn't stitch him up so you could rip him apart!" He rushed to steady Lucanis. "Have some respect for my work! You'll tear that wound wide open! On your cot! Now! Come on! Lie down and let me see!"

"You just want to see me naked," Lucanis grinned but Anders was too preoccupied with Lucanis' bleeding wound to pay attention to his remarks as well.

...

"You are the worst patient ever," Anders frowned, having stitched up Lucanis' wound again. "You have to let it heal! Relax! Stay put! We cannot leave until you are back on your feet, but you keep jumping it..."

"Alright, alright, I get it!" Lucanis interrupted him impatiently. "You are not using magic for some reason... you want it to heal naturally... why, I cannot fathom," he frowned.

"I am using magic," Anders shook his head. "Why do you think you are not climbing the walls in pain? But there are limits... The blight is preventing the wound from closing... I must have missed something... Let me see..."

"You didn't miss anything, he isn't blighted," Spite came close and touched Anders' shoulder. Anders felt slight tingling of magic, an aura surrounding Spite. "You did all you could, the rest is up to him. Come now, Warden. If he was blighted, you would have sensed it."

...

Neve had to be careful. She did not intend for Dorian to find out her connection to the Venatori, but he turned out smarter than he looked.

"Perhaps I was wrong about him," Neve thought on her way home to a small apartment. "Perhaps he is more than a Magister... hmm... let's see..." She took out a little notebook full of her crisp and compact writing. "Inherited his Magisterial seat from his father just a few years previously... The first openly gay Magister... well, that's of no importance... founded the Shadow Dragons when his coalition with another Magister failed... slavery was not to be abolished through Magisterial reform. Hmm," she smirked to herself. "Nothing here suggests any kind of strength of character. Yet... hmm."

Neve slunk through a hole in the wall and climbed a few ladders before finally reaching her roof apartment in a poor and overpopulated part of Minrathous - the Dock Town.

She took off her expensive leather coat and hat and hung them up with care before changing into something casual and a lot less expensive. Her leg hurt after all the climbing - ladders were really not suited for an amputee. But she could not find another place to live, and besides she needed agility to get around. "Still not used to it," she took off her prosthesis. "Let's hope it will get better with time."

It had not been all that long since Neve lost the lower part of her leg. She was lucky to have retained the knee. "It could have been much worse," she thought, massaging the stump. She still felt the pain in the foot, even though the foot was no longer there.

Neve always maintained that she'd never dabbled in blood magic, never performed a ritual, never participated in one performed by another mage. She'd fought blood mages, that was all. That wasn't entirely true.

Neve joined the Venatori during the time of the Inquisition, that is, some ten years previously. It wasn't about any elven gods, it was about restoring Tevinter to its former glory. Not necessarily as the Imperium spanning all of known Thedas, but just as an Imperium of grandeur and splendour of times past. Tevinter was still home to the most amazing magic, but its splendour was all but gone, with even Minrathous crumbling to ruin in places. "In too many places," Neve would sigh passing derelict buildings covered in scaffolding. "We have floating towers held in midair by magic, but we cannot repair houses that require stone and mortar. That's a disgrace!" Perhaps the soporati deserved more consideration - the non-mages who formed the vast majority of Tevinter population. The people who worked with stone and mortar. The castless. "We mock the dwarves for their cast system... yet ours is the same," Neve had to admit to herself. By birth and upbringing she belonged to the upper class, but there was no family money to back it up. The Venatori movement started with mages like herself - all skill and attitude and no money. They were the new generation of Tevinter, they would raise their homeland out of dereliction and into grandeur.

In the days of the Inquisition the majority of the Venatori were only interested in ancient Tevinter artefacts and history that would help them elevate the status of their country. There was a small group that started worshiping a darkspawn lord, somehow believing he was a god... but the rest of the Venatori regarded that group as deluded fools. Unfortunately, it was that group that made the Venatori known to the rest of Thedas, and thus their reputation and intent was corrupted before they could state their case.

In those tumultuous times when the world was saved by the Inquisition, the Venatori were searching for a new purpose and for new means of achieving that purpose. And they found both in ancient history.

"Beg that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the gods, and it was empty!"

That phrase by the darkspawn lord etched in everyone's consciousness. The lord turned out to be a thousand year old Tevinter Magister, one of seven to enter the Golden City and turn it black with corruption, so that the Maker turned his gaze away from his people. That was what the Chantry had claimed. But if the blighted Magister spoke the truth, if the Golden City was already black and the Maker's throne empty when they arrived... Then Tevinter was not to blame for the Blights in the first place. Tevinter deserved to be cleansed of that sin imposed upon it - the sin invented by the Chantry. Tevinter Magisters entered the Fade, reached the Golden City and found it black instead. And if they did not corrupt it, then the Blight was not their fault either. The Venatori were going to prove it once and for all. Tevinter would rise again.

"...and if we didn't create the Blight, then perhaps our methods weren't evil," one of the Venatori theorised during a meeting. "Blood magic, for instance. It's a way to power spells. It isn't blood which is evil, it depends which spells you cast..."

It went from there. They decided that blood magic deserved study, not blind dismissal as the Chantry used to preach. They would never use it for anything evil, for they were pure, they only wished the best for their country and people. Tevinter was built on magic, and why should they ignore blood magic since others chose not to ignore it... The argument among the young Venatori was no different to the argument among so many other mages all over Thedas. Blood magic was a forbidden topic, and thus it begged the question why.

Neve lost her leg in one of the rituals that went wrong. They summoned a demon, they were certain they could defeat it, they were all accomplished mages after all... But the demon was strong, perhaps they miscalculated, the battle was going badly... Neve set up a mine, it went off too soon... her foot got trapped in the debris...

Admittedly, such an accident could have happened for any number of reasons, including completely mundane. It wasn't the blood in the magic that caused it, it was overconfidence of the mages who thought they could handle something that they did not understand. It was a sobering incident for all involved. It prompted more study, more experiments, it drove some to seek to augment their power, and blood magic could help with that. A single life of an elven slave was all it took to elevate an average mage above his peers, to grant power to delve deeper into the mysteries of magic, to study harder, to create more... It was not too much to ask. It was for a good cause.

It was a typical slippery slope that led some of the mages to turn to the evils of blood magic, the very evils that they renounced to ever employ when it all started. But times had changed, and since the escape of the elven gods, those mages gained unknown new powers. They rose out of the ranks of the Venatori giving the group a bad name once again. They terrorised Minrathous with public displays of blood magic and human sacrifice, and the city guard simply stood by and did nothing. Corruption ran on many levels.

When Dorian and the Viper set up the Shadow Dragons, Neve was one of the first to join. She loathed what the Venatori had become, she still wanted the best for her country and people. She didn't have an opinion on slavery to start with, but the Shadow Dragons were against it, and she went with that. It was a good enough cause. Good but not sufficient to warrant exclusivity, and so Neve maintained her other affiliations as well - the Venatori included. Shadow Dragons did not need to know every detail, she figured. None among them would be able to guess, anyway. And now it seemed she was wrong.

"How am I supposed to know who hired the Crows?" She wondered aloud. "That's out of my reach..."

"The Crows send their regards!" A brick went through Neve's window, a shadow appeared and vanished again. An assassin? For her? She looked out, but the Crow was already gone. How strange. She returned to examine the brick and found a note.

"The Crows are not normally in the business of delivering letters, but this contract requires it. Anders is no longer the target - you are. Or rather, you will be if you stray from your brief. Find him. Zara is most displeased - she lost Lucanis too. Return them both to Zara and live. Fail and receive a visit from the Crows. Next time we won't use a brick."