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

[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."

[Lena Wolf]

Hearthfire, 3E410 - A choice to live

"Why did you join Grey Wardens?" Lucanis tried to sit up, then settled on propping himself up on an elbow. "Since we're stuck here with nothing to do, let's get acquainted," he smiled.

"It was an accident, really," Anders smirked. "I didn't think of it at all. I got blighted. The choice was to die or to join Grey Wardens."

"So, blight does not always mean death," Lucanis looked up. "But you worked very hard to prevent it getting into my blood. Why?"

"Blight does mean death," Anders shook his head. "It takes longer with Grey Wardens, but the result is the same. We all hear the song one day..."

"The song?"

"The song of the Blight. The Call of the Black City. The moment you join Grey Wardens, your life is forfeit."

"It's no different than joining the Crows," Lucanis shrugged. "Especially if you are born into it, like me."

"The Crows don't fight darkspawn," Anders objected.

"Not if we can help it," Lucanis smiled. "But tell me about that accident that made you join Grey Wardens. Unless you'd rather not talk of it, of course."

"Well, I was imprisoned, waiting to be executed or made tranquil, which was probably worse... I was starving, too... They weren't taking any chances with a blood mage," he smirked. "I thought it was another feverish dream - someone coming to rescue me... but no, it was Wolf."

"You dreamt of a wolf?" Lucanis sounded surprised.

"No, it was his name - Wolf," Anders smiled. "The Hero of Ferelden, the Conqueror of the Fifth Blight, Warden-Commander Asgarsen..."

"Lord Inquisitor Wolf Asgarsen Trevelyan," Lucanis nodded.

"No, not yet, it was just after the Blight. The Grey Wardens Order of Ferelden had just been reinstated. It had exactly two Wardens - Wolf and Alistair... yeah, those were the days..." He sighed and smiled to the memory.

"I've heard of that, didn't think it was true."

"Oh, it was true... there was another Grey Warden, a three hundred year old mage... Avernus... he's still alive, and Maker help you should you cross him," he smirked. "But he likes to keep to himself. The song is often loud in his ears, he says..."

"And so Warden-Commander came to visit you in prison," Lucanis prompted Anders to continue.

"Wolf, yes," Anders looked at him seeing someone entirely different. "I was asleep, he woke me up. Said it was time to go. Go where? I could barely move, I was so weak. They no longer bothered locking my cell, there was no point, I could not walk on my own... He said if we didn't leave, they would come for me to make me tranquil, that everything was prepared... He put my hand on his wrist... it was scarred. But he was not a mage! 'Can you perform your ritual without a staff?' He asked. What ritual? I was confused. 'We have to go, you need strength,' he insisted. He wanted me to use his blood!" Anders looked up, meeting Lucanis' gaze. "It was either that, or die or be made tranquil..."

"I know what I would choose," Lucanis nodded.

"Do you? I never used someone else's blood before! Only my own..." Anders paused, running a finger over the scars on his wrist. "Always my own... taking someone else's blood is exactly what is wrong with blood magic!"

"But he insisted."

"That we should leave. He was not giving up on me... I did wonder why... he later told me."

"And so? You took his blood," Lucanis prompted him again.

"Just enough to cross the lake," Anders nodded. "I knew exactly where to go, how much strength I would need to get across... I'd escaped a dozen times from that dungeon already, over the years..."

"What..?"

"The Circle Tower in Ferelden - that's where I grew up," Anders smiled. "I came to like that place in the end, even miss it. It was a prison of course, but it was also home..."

"That is weird."

"It's weird being a mage."

"So. You took his blood and escaped," Lucanis was speaking softly, giving Anders the time to relive the memory. "And arrived some place safe?"

"The Soldier's Peak - an old Grey Wardens' fortress up in the Highlands of Ferelden. I don't remember much of the trip. We stopped a few times, Wolf insisted I repeated the ritual, took more of his blood... then... I passed out, I think. I remember getting cold, so cold... especially once we got to the mountains... I was told later they strapped me to his back, covered with blankets to keep me warm... I... I still can't believe it." Anders looked up, Lucanis was watching him.

"He decided to keep you alive and he did everything in his power to make it so," Lucanis nodded. "It's like a contract."

"But a contract with whom? And why?"

"With himself," Lucanis shrugged. "Did he see you as his child, perhaps? His son?"

"No, he didn't," Anders smiled. "No. It wasn't that." He paused, then continued with his story. "We made it to the keep, there was no longer any need for blood, there was food and warmth and I should have recovered... but I was dying instead. I could feel it."

"The Blight?"

"Exactly. His Grey Warden taint. I didn't even know you could get infected."

"So then - what? They snapped their fingers and you became a Grey Warden?" Lucanis shook his head.

"Well... no. Avernus boosted my health - without blood magic. I could take my chances, the taint is not the same as the Blight. I could have survived... I could try, anyhow... I refused. I went through the Joining." Anders fell silent. He got up and walked to the opposite wall, picked up a piece of charcoal from the fire and drew the symbol of Joining: two griffons flanking a silver cup. He added a skull underneath. "It's deadly for many, but I survived."

"You could have walked away but you didn't... but why?"

"I don't rightly know, Lucanis," Anders shook his head. "I guess... I wanted to stay."

"I never had a choice like that," Lucanis sighed. "I was born to the Crows. My parents were killed when I was young, I was raised by my grandmother... I am nothing else but an assassin. I don't know how to be anything else."

"I remember Zevran saying that as well," Anders smiled. "He was a Crow too."

"The name sounds familiar..."

"Zevran Arainai, an elf... a slave..."

"From Antiva City?" Lucanis sat up. "Really? He is alive?"

"He was, last time I saw him," Anders grinned. "Always with Wolf. I think they left together."

"Left - where?"

"Left Thedas. Wolf returned home, and Zevran came with him."

"Waaaait... Wolf Asgarsen wasn't a Trevelyan then?"

"No, he was just Wolf Asgarsen, an agent from a far away land... He got recalled after some twenty years in Thedas... and he left... not long ago..." Anders' voice trailed off.

"You miss him."

"I do."

"That's family for you."

They sat looking into the fire for a time, then Anders got up and walked over to Lucanis.

"Lie down, let me see your wound. You've been upright for too long." He gently pushed him down on the pillows. "I'm not giving up on you yet."

[Lena Wolf]

Frostfall, 3E410 - To face a god

"Hey, are you alright?" Lucanis touched Anders who was thrashing in his sleep. Anders sat up. "A nightmare?"

"An Archdemon," Anders rubbed his face and shook his head. "We have another Blight."

"What..? You get it from a dream?" Lucanis was perplexed.

"It's not a dream," Anders got up and started making coffee. "We know it's a Blight when an Archdemon rises to lead the darkspawn horde turning it into an army. The Archdemon speaks to all blighted creatures... including Grey Wardens. It's like the song I told you about. This is his pep talk."

"Ugh, sounds disgusting," Lucanis shivered.

"Terrifying, rather," Anders shot him a glance. "Because we look through the eyes of the Archdemon. We see the size of that horde. The horde that is coming for us, the horde that we must stop. The last Blight was before my time... I'd have to ask Alistair. But from what I've been told... this new horde looks worse than ever before."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"It is marching onto the Head Quarters. That's where I'm going," Anders said firmly.

"Then I am coming with you," Lucanis nodded.

"What..? Why? That's Grey Wardens business. No one needs to die in that battle, besides us," Anders shook his head.

"I'm coming, don't argue." Lucanis stood firm, Spite standing next to him, ready to merge in. "When are we leaving?"

"Soon..." Anders sighed. "Oh, if you must... I need to... well... I need to consult Solas..."

What Anders didn't tell Lucanis was that he thought he saw more than just a dragon in his vision. He saw a figure behind the dragon too, and he wondered whether that was one of the escaped elven gods. If they were the ones who created the Blight, it would figure, and it would make it all far worse than ever before. But Anders didn't want to say anything until he was sure. He went to another room and dropped to his knees to meditate. He hoped Solas would answer.

"Ah, there you are!" Solas did answer. "Yes, one of the gods is making her move! She's the one who created the Blight, and she plans to destroy Grey Wardens as a symbolic gesture. She does not need to do it really, but it will be bad for morale of everyone else."

"It's bad for my morale already," Anders said darkly. "But it explains why she'd target Head Quarters. Apart from the fact that the fortress is poorly manned."

"But it never fell before," Solas objected.

"It was never staffed with idiots before," Anders scowled. "They stand no chance."

"And you alone are going to turn the tide of that battle?" Solas laughed.

"No. But it is my duty to try."

"Well, it's your chance to see what you are dealing with, granted," Solas softened his stance. "She'll bring a dragon - an Archdemon, you know this, I expect. That dragon is what grants her immortality. You cannot harm her while that dragon lives."

"So, kill the Archdemon as with any other Blight," Anders summarised.

"Yes... but expect a few surprises. You are facing a god this time, mortal!" Solas glared at Anders, then shook his head. "Oh alright, I'll help you. There is an eluvian in the basement of the Lighthouse, you found it I trust? It will lead you directly to the Grey Wardens fortress. It is one way only, so take with you everything you need. And good luck to you, Warden."

...

"We won't return here, assuming we survive," Anders relayed his conversation with Solas to Lucanis. "We'll pick up all our things... such as they are... we should have one last good meal before leaving... Are you sure you want to go all the way? It won't be pretty."

"I am coming with you, I already said," Lucanis nodded. "You need me to fight that goddess."

"Dragon first!" Spite hissed. "Then we take out the goddess! It's a contract!"

"We'll try," Anders smiled.

...

The eluvian from the Lighthouse deposited Anders and Lucanis in the dungeons of the Head Quarters fortress. They looked around - there was no eluvian to go back. They heard fighting above, the goddess must have already started her assault.

"Darkspawn," Anders flared his nostrils. "The fortress is overrun by darkspawn!" He swore. "There was an attack some time ago, the darkspawn must have been testing the defenses. And found them lacking! Come on! Let's see how bad it is!"

They fought their way through some stray darkspawn in the dungeon and took a grand staircase going up - it looked like the main entrance. Anders had never been to the Head Quarters before, but if that fortress had any sense to its arrangement, there would be an outer wall and a keep in the middle, and the First Warden would likely preside over a large table in the central hall... for all the good it would do him. Anders scowled at the memory of his last encounter with the First Warden but pressed on. "He's likely going to try and arrest me," he scoffed. "Well, let him try. With darkspawn overrunning the fortress, he needs every Warden he can get, rebels included."

The grand staircase did indeed lead to a grand central hall with a grand table in the middle with the First Warden studying the map of the fortress. "A bit late for that," Anders thought.

"Where is darkspawn coming from?" He barked. "Report!"

"From everywhere," someone answered. Several Wardens stood around the table. "We are overwhelmed."

"Nonsense! This fortress never fell before! Not once! And it won't fall in this Blight either! Besides, there is no sign of an Archdemon, this may not even be a Blight!" He barked again and glared at everyone in turn.

"But the dreams..." someone tried to remind him.

"Dreams! Grey Wardens always get those nightmares! It doesn't mean a thing!" He shook his head and slammed his fist on the table. "We'll cut them all down!"

"Wardens! Prepare for battle!" Someone shouted and Anders thought that the voice was familiar.

"Warden Davrin! Get a grip of yourself! I am the Commander here!" First Warden cut him off. Davrin. So he felt the Call as well and got there, like every other Warden in the country.

"Yes, Sir!" Davrin stood to attention.

Anders grew angrier by the minute. All this show... while darkspawn were breaking through the gates.

"We have to act - NOW!" He approached the table. "Darkspawn will soon break through."

"Anders! Warden Anders! How dare you show your face! How dare you..!!! Guards!!!! Arrest him and throw him in the dungeons!!!"

"Well, that was predictable," Lucanis smirked to himself, staying at the back of the room. He noticed several other people that didn't look like Wardens.

"Sir?" Several Wardens standing next to Anders looked at the First Warden in surprise. "Arrest him? Now?"

"You heard me!!!" First Warden continued shouting.

Anders looked around the room. He spotted Antoine and a few other Wardens he knew, he saw looks of incredulity on the faces of others. Antoine nodded. Anders smiled.

"Well, I tried talking!" He took a step towards the First Warden and punched him in the jaw. "But there's no time for that."

It was hard to believe that a fierce warrior such as the First Warden would actually collapse from a single punch to the jaw, but there he was, rolling around under the table, unable to get up in his shiny suit of full ceremonial plate. Anders smirked and looked around. Taash was threatening Davrin with a punch of her own, while the rest of his merry crew were grinning ear to ear.

"Well, what do we do now?" A dwarven woman asked. "You punched the First Warden. But do you have a plan?" She grinned at Anders.

"Err... beat up the darkspawn?" He grinned back. "But jokes aside, we should expect an Archdemon."

"Agreed, we've all had the dream," the woman nodded. "I am Evka. What is your plan?"

"I don't think that Anders has a plan," Antoine stepped in. "But you do, dear. What is it?"

"I do," she nodded. "But he is still in command," she pointed at the First Warden under the table.

"You are in command," Anders shook his head and glared and Davrin who was about to protest. "Because you have a plan."

"Well, if you are all sure..." Evka looked at everyone in the room and all Wardens nodded. "Very well..."

Her plan was sound. They didn't have nearly enough Wardens to defend the fortress, so they decided to let it fall. They would focus their efforts on the Archdemon. A dragon would surely try to land on the tallest watch tower, the one with a large flat roof, and coincidentally, with a dragon trap. That's where they would face him. Whoever survived long enough.

"What about that trap? Can it be used?" Anders asked.

"It was built for the First Blight and never tested," Antoine shrugged. "Not once. We have no clue."

"Then what better time to test it but now!" Anders grinned and Evka nodded.

"We'll try," she agreed. "Good luck, everyone."

Ordinarily Wardens would agree who should slay the Archdemon because that person was going to die. In this case they dispensed with that tradition because hardly anyone expected to live anyway. Whoever gets to the dragon, kills it - it was as simple as that.

Darkspawn were everywhere and fighting was much too fierce for the few Wardens that could fight. They abandoned the keep and focused on reaching the watch tower, but it looked like the darkspawn were being directed to cut them off on every turn. That meant of course that the Wardens were headed in the right direction.

Anders and his team took the lead. Dorian dazzled them all with his battle spells, Emmrich summoned spirits of the dead to help, Bellara shot lightning at every approaching monster, Harding was weaving in and out of battle hardly seen, her bow as deadly as ever. Taash and Davrin took point in melee. Anders was leading the way with his fire and ice and Lucanis took on the largest foes swooping down on them on the spirit wings of Spite. It was a spectacular show, but the best part was still to come.

"Where is the Archdemon?" Davrin scowled at Anders during a pause in fighting. "There's plenty of darkspawn, but that's old news! What if that dragon lands some place else?"

"It cannot land any place else, it won't fit," Anders shook his head. "This fortress was built with a purpose. This tower is the only place..."

He didn't get to finish his sentence - the dragon was upon them, and the goddess rose in its wake.

"The dragooooooooon!!!!!" Davrin shouted and charged. His bravery was undeniable, his recklessness too.

"Davrin!!!" Anders shouted after him. "The trap!!!!"

The plan had been to lure the dragon into the trap, not to spook it off. After a few swings with his sword and a few burns from the dragon's fire, Davrin stepped back, heeding the plan.

Finally, between Davrin and Taash slashing at the dragon's nose and everyone else bombarding it with magic and arrows, the dragon was in position.

"NOW!!!!" Anders bellowed and the Wardens sprung the trap.

The dragon was caught. Great harpoons pierced its body and chains sliced through its wings. Davrin shot to it, aiming to plant his sword in its head... but the goddess behind the dragon had other plans.

"Rise, my pet!" She called to it extending blighted tendrils towards its body. "The Blight will give you new life!"

"And a new head!!!" Taash could not believe her eyes - the dragon grew a second head.

"What..?" Davrin stopped, perplexed. "Two heads..? So which one do I..?"

"Either head will do!!" Anders shouted, trying to snap him out of his indecision. "Take the left one!"

The battle continued.

"Solas did warn me about surprises," Anders swore under his breath. "Maker's arse! Two heads! And I bet when we cut them off, three new ones will grow back!"

He wasn't wrong, it was exactly what happened. Taash's cursing was curdling the air around them, but she was undeterred to remove every head that grew back. Davrin was charging again and again, hoping to be the one to deliver the final blow. When only one head remained and none were growing back, Anders caught sight of Lucanis.

"When the last head falls and the dragon is dead, take a shot at the goddess - it will be our only chance." Lucanis nodded and prepared to leap.

"And now you die, dragoooooon!" Everyone could hear Davrin's cry as he plunged his blade into the final head of the dragon. The dragon went limp and the goddess shrieked. Lucanis lept and Spite carried him right to the goddess' head, daggers extended. He did not miss - he slashed her neck, and yet she did not die.

"NOOOOO!!!" Her cry was heard for miles. She vanished, darkspawn fell and fighting subsided. The Wardens won the battle, if not the war.

"What?!" Davrin glared at the dead dragon. "Why am I still alive? I slayed that beast! I should be a hero! A martyr! What kind of double-crossing dragon was that?!"

"Plenty of Wardens died today," Evka came up to him. "Shut up."

[Lena Wolf]

Frostfall, 3E410 - A silver cup

"There you are," Dorian walked up to Anders. "We've been looking for you. But it's hard to find someone in the Fade."

"We were at the Lighthouse," Anders smiled. "We could not leave - Lucanis was injured."

"In the battle against the dragon in Treviso," Dorian nodded. "We figured as much."

"Glad you all made it here."

"Solas contacted me... You aren't the only mage around, it appears," Dorian smirked. "He really is Fen'Harel, you know. As good as a god. Entered my dreams and everything."

"Mighty annoying, if you ask me," Anders glared. "It's worse at the Lighthouse."

"I would imagine it is," Dorian nodded.

They stood in silence for a while, looking over the site of the battle with the goddess' Archdemon. The dragon lay dead, with all its heads cut off, but the goddess escaped.

"I failed," Lucanis approached them. "I did not kill her."

"You wounded her but she did not die," Anders corrected him. "She is a goddess, after all. Now we know it isn't that simple."

"But we killed her Archdemon," Dorian pointed out. "She is now mortal again. She can be killed."

"Then next time we strike several times!" Lucanis said forcefully. "I shall not fail again!"

The Wardens that were still alive, started laying out the dead for the pyre.

"A lot of Wardens died today," Anders watched for a while. "I need to stay and help. I'll find you later."

No one argued. Davrin and Anders joined the other Wardens caring for the wounded and the dead. Anders got busy healing. Emmrich too remained, providing last rites to the dead. Not many of them were Nevarran, but he adapted to serve other traditions as well. Souls were souls, they all needed release.

It's been many hours, and Anders was getting tired. He'd already cut his wrists several times to boost his magic to continue healing. Evka checked on him every now and again, and finally declared that the healer needed healing himself.

"Since you put me in command, this is an order: you must rest," she took his arm. "We have food, someone is actually cooking something... one of your friends, I believe." She escorted him to a make-shift kitchen. Lucanis was stirring in a cauldron over a campfire. There was roast and bread and... coffee.

"I did not know I could cook in a cauldron, but after all it's just a pot," he smiled. "I don't know what it is, but the others say it is stew."

"I'll have coffee," Anders dropped to the ground before the fire. "I am too tired to eat."

"Sleep first, perhaps?" Lucanis handed him a cup. "There are tents over there."

"There are wounded over there," Anders pointed in the opposite direction. "Wounded in need of healing."

"Alright, but you must use my blood from now on," Lucanis straightened up.

"What..? No! No, I won't," Anders glared at him.

"Then sleep. Eat. Rest. The tents are over there." Lucanis stood firm.

People were coming and going, the warmth of the fire made Anders feel just how tired he was. He gave in. Sleep first. Then eat. Then...

"He doesn't know when to stop, does he?" Evka was helping Lucanis move Anders onto a bedroll. "Is he always like that?"

"I think it is in his nature."

...

It's been a few days and things stabilised. The dead had been consigned to the flames, much to Emmrich's dismay at such a barbaric tradition. The wounded either joined the dead or recovered. The fortress lay in ruin, or at least that's how it looked, with its central dome collapsed. There were still enough livable spaces left, but the question was whether the Wardens could bear to stay in it.

"The archives and the vaults are still intact," Evka summarised the situation. "That's the important part. The question is whether we should leave a small contingent of Wardens here to guard it. I don't envy anyone who has to remain..."

To her surprise, several Wardens stepped forward.

"Someone must stay," one of them said. "Wardens will be returning here, it is a symbol of our Order. Yes, the central dome lies in ruin, but the heart is still beating. My wounds are too grave for any serious fighting, but a few stray darkspawn will not take me down. This fortress is a beacon. It must remain lit."

And so it was decided. Wardens whose wounds needed time to heal, would remain. The others would move to an outpost to the East, still in the Anderfels - another Grey Warden fortress that lay abandoned for centuries when it became too costly to maintain. It too was partly ruined, but enough of it still remained.

Anders stood on the battlements looking around. He wished he could have seen the Head Quarters when it was still intact.

"The library was over there," Davrin joined him, no longer clad in his shiny armour. "I think much of it is still intact under the rubble. The dorms are that way," he pointed out another part of the fortress. "They were always like that - half in ruin. Drafty and cold... and I would not have it any other way."

"You trained here?" Anders looked at him. With all the animosity they never took the time to talk.

"Yes, this was my home," Davrin nodded. "For years... First as a recruit, then as a young Warden... training others, no less," he smirked. "It was so quiet... The Blight had been defeated not twenty years before, the Wardens could relax... Yes, something was going on in the South... but you hardly heard of it here."

"It wasn't a Blight, I understand why it didn't make ripples," Anders agreed.

"Darkspawn was still involved, we should not have ignored it," Davrin said darkly.

"We didn't," Anders shot him a glance. "The split in the Order of the Grey started centuries before the last Blight. Regional chapters were not good enough for the Head Quarters..."

"Fortresses being abandoned..."

"Outposts left to rot..."

"Our ranks shrank to nothing..."

"Almost," Anders smiled. "There are still two or three Wardens in Ferelden."

"I read about that... about the last Blight," Davrin looked down and shuffled uncomfortably. "Two Wardens raising an army... I didn't think it was true."

"Yeah... that's what Alistair said when he returned from the Head Quarters having delivered his report... He said he wasn't believed."

"His report must still be here," Davrin looked at Anders. "The archives are largely intact. You could take it back to Ferelden..."

"No, we know what happened in Ferelden. Let the records stay here for future Wardens to find."

"You think we still have a future?" Davrin looked up.

"Has darkspawn been defeated? No. Grey Wardens will rise again, of that I am certain."

Anders patted Davrin on the back. He simply was a young Warden, filled with the glory of the Order, having trained at the HQ. But the glory just lost its luster, and Davrin got a glimpse of the real Blight. "Just a glimpse," Anders thought, watching Davrin brood. "He saw just one real battle... But he is no longer drunk."

"Come on," Anders said aloud. "We should return to Minrathous. Regroup. This Blight is led by gods rather than an Archdemon, but it is still a Blight."

"The Wardens..." Davrin started protesting, but Anders cut him off.

"The same as Wolf and Alistair who raised an army of non-Wardens during the last Blight, we have to get allies from every corner of Northern Thedas to face the gods. Wardens included. But not just them. You can stay here if you prefer, but I must return to Minrathous."

"No... you are right... Warden," Davrin said slowly, then looked Anders in the eye, calling him "Warden" for the first time since they met. "This Blight is bigger than ever."

...

Anders did not hurry to leave. He would not return to the Head Quarters again. Next time he needed to speak to the Wardens, he would go to the other fortress where Evka was leading the troops. Yet something still felt unfinished. "Grey Wardens will rise again," he repeated to himself what he had said to Davrin. "Not if we cannot perform the Joining... Where does Archdemon blood come from?" He wondered. "You only need a drop for each mixture, but even so, it would run out... but it never does. They say it is stored in a vault at the HQ... somewhere here... I should see."

He went to the library - the vaults were said to be beneath it. The library was largely intact, the archives below it too, and the vaults in the depths were as well protected as ever. Massive doors were guarding whatever was inside. It all looked secure, and Anders left - after all, they did have Archdemon blood at Vigil Keep in Ferelden, and if they had it, then other chapters likely had it too, if any other chapters remained...

He passed through the archives, looking at huge bookcases filled with leather-bound volumes and leather-encased scrolls - it all looked secure. There were chests and cupboards as well, all intact. A few items were scattered around the floor, not surprising after all the fighting. Anders picked them up, returned them to the shelves. Books, scrolls, boxes... what an archive should be. Then something else caught his eye in the corner - something made of metal. He picked it up - it was a silver cup. "I drank from this one," Anders froze. It was the cup used in his Joining.

...

"You drank from this cup," Anders heard a voice far away. "Take it with you."

He was at the Head Quarters fortress before it got destroyed, yet it was already in ruin. Grey Warden symbols were crumbling into dust - busts, plaques and statues celebrating First Wardens of all ages. The only thing that remained, was a single griffon crest mounted over the door. "The crest is in my blood, not on my armour," Anders thought. It was something that Wolf used to say whenever people complained that his Wardens did not look the part. Vigil Keep was not covered in crests, and Soldier's Peak had hardly any insignia either. But the Head Quarters... "Oh dear."

Anders walked through a gallery lined with illustrouos suits of armour, each used to belong to a First Warden of the past. Each First Warden apparently fell in battle, yet their armour hardly had a scratch. "Just how deep did the corruption go?" Anders wondered. Real Grey Wardens were not entombed at the fortress. Real Grey Wardens died in the Deep Roads when the Calling blotted out all else, their corpses buried under all the darkspawn they'd slain, consumed by the blight, almost turned into darkspawn themselves... except for that crest in their blood... Grey Warden taint wasn't the same as darkspawn.

"It's time to go, let the past remain in the past," the voice seemed to come closer.

From this moment forth you are a Grey Warden. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten... and that one day, we shall join you.

The words spoken at the Joining rang in Anders' ears. A promise to those who did not survive it. Yet clearly, some were not satisfied with the shadows. Some were seeking glory. Should they be remembered as well? Did they even deserve it? Anders was getting angry. All this guilding! Shiny armours, rich decor, opulence on every turn... how could it have happened? Perhaps it was right that the Head Quarters should fall.

He looked at the cup in his hand. He knew it was the one he drank from - it bore the scars of Ostagar, it was dented and scratched, but the griffon crest still marked it for what it was. Yes, he would take it home.

"Come, let us not linguer in the past," the voice was saying. "Grey Wardens have a duty still. The gods await."

...

"You've been sitting here for hours. I was getting worried." Lucanis sat next to Anders on the floor amidst Grey Warden archives.

"This cup..." Anders was still holding it.

"...brought back memories, I see," Lucanis nodded.

"Yeah... and thoughts..."

"Doubts... But this is who you are. The crest is in your blood, not on your armour."

"The same as yours," Anders shot him a glance.

"The Crows? Oh yes," Lucanis nodded. "I have no cause or duty, but my life is forfeit all the same."

"Have you ever wanted it to be different?"

"I have, which is why I never married," he looked straight ahead, seeing someone in the distance. "My children would have been Crows, my wife too, even though she was no assassin... the woman I longed to marry and never did."

"It's like our taint... Grey Wardens cannot have children."

They sat in silence for a while, then Lucanis moved closer and put his arm around Anders' shoulders.

"We are much the same, you and I," he said softly and Anders felt his breath on the skin. "You like walking close to the edge."

"And you rush head long into danger," Anders smiled.

"Good thing I've got wings."

...

"Right, you come with me," Anders said decisively. "The gods can wait."

"Where are we going?" Lucanis was still holding Anders close, still feeling the warmth of his breath, inhaling his scent, sweet with a biting finish.

"Soldier's Peak..." Anders smiled and kissed him again. "Home. They'll say silly things, but they mean well."

"'A Warden and his Crow' is what they are going to say," Lucanis grinned. "That's alright, I don't mind."

"As long as you are prepared," Anders nodded. "Hey, Spite! Give us a portal."

There was no answer.

"Determination! Come on! There's someone there I want you to meet."

"Avernus?" They heard Spite's hissing voice and a spectral crow landed on Lucanis' shoulder. "It's been a while..."

A portal appeared.

"I did not know Spite could do that!" Lucanis stared at it in fascination.

"Come," Anders got up. "Before he changes his mind."

[Lena Wolf]

Frostfall, 3E410 - A Warden and his Crow

"That's the best I could do!" Spite hissed when they emerged on the other side of the portal.

"You brought us to the Circle Tower!" Anders glared at him. "A blood mage and an abomination - and you brought us HERE?!!!"

"The Veil is strong over Ferelden!" Spite hissed. "The mages at the tower weakened it with portals of their own - that's the closest I could do!"

"Anders! Is that you?" A voice behind them made Anders spin around. "It is you! Returned to serve your sentence, I hope?" A templar stood behind them, sword drawn. "You've got guts, I'll give you that, but brains... I'm not so sure!"

"I don't want to fight you!" Anders flared his nostrils but did not ready any spells. "The Circle of Magi is no more, First Enchanter Irving is long dead and the templars no longer serve the Chantry. Let's call it quits. I am only here in passing."

"All that is true but blood magic is still outlawed, as well as abominations," the templar glared at Lucanis.

"He can sense Spite?" Lucanis asked Anders in a low voice. "Really?"

"He is a real templar," Anders nodded. "We still have them in Ferelden."

"That Grey Warden crest will not save you now!" The templar glared. "There is no Blight!"

"Actually, there is," Anders met the templar's stare. "But I expect you don't care. Who is the Knight-Commander now? We could use the help."

"With a Blight? There is a Blight? Or are you just trying to get me to release you?!" The templar started sounding menacing and Anders lost patience.

"Like I said - you don't care," he readied his staff. "Watch out for that darkspawn behind you!"

"Liar!!!" The templar shouted and charged Anders, but Anders dodged and shot a fireball at something behind the templar. He did not lie about the darkspawn. Several were rising from under the ground.

Fortunately for the templar, he wasn't blinded by his desire to arrest Anders. He quickly realised that the fireball wasn't meant for him. He turned around and together they finished the darkspawn.

"The Blight..?" The templar was perplexed. "You better come in, if Grey Wardens need help..."

"No, I am on my way to see Alistair," Anders shook his head. "He will decide when to call in help. This Blight is not like the others. Have you had darkspawn here before? Didn't think so... Keep watch. You'll hear from us soon enough."

With the templar off their backs, Anders and Lucanis took a row boat to the mainland shore of the lake. The Circle Tower was no longer Anders' home.

"A tower on an island in the middle of a lake..." Lucanis was watching it as the fog was slowly closing around it. "And they wonder why mages feel imprisoned," he shook his head.

"We were not allowed to leave the island, templars were guarding it," Anders nodded. "But now that the Circles have fallen, it's supposed to be better for the mages within. Yet you've seen that templar... I wonder if anything changed at all."

"He was going to make you serve your sentence," Lucanis said with caution, not wanting to reopen old wounds. "He didn't mean... you know... the one you escaped from?"

"I wondered that myself," Anders gave him a look. "They were going to make me tranquil for my blood magic... or execute me instead if I was lucky. But I've been to the Tower since then... a few years after the Blight... and no one tried to arrest me or follow up on that sentence. Of course the old First Enchanter was still alive then... also Knight-Commander Gregoir was still in charge of the templars... You know, the people who've seen the real horrors of blood magic as well as the Blight. May be the new governers aren't as nuanced in their judgement."

"But that would mean that all that mages-templar war was for naught," Lucanis shook his head.

"Wouldn't be the first time..."

...

The tavern on the Eastern shore of the lake was where Anders was headed, hoping to get horses there on loan. He didn't exactly bring any funds. The Drydens at the Soldier's Peak used to trade with the innkeep, if it was still the same innkeep as before... So many ifs... Anders hadn't returned to the area in many years. Well, they would find out, he thought and pushed the door.

"Warden," the innkeep greeted him politely seeing the crest on his armour. "What can I get you?"

"Hendrik? Still here, I see, after all those years... I am..." Anders grinned, but the innkeep interrupted him with a grin of his own.

"Anders, my boy! Haven't seen you in ages! All dressed up in company leathers, I see. Well, it suits you." Hendrik busied himself preparing some mystery drink. "Won't be long..."

"Yeah, there was cause for the parade..." Anders answered somber, the scenes of mass funeral at the Head Quarters still rising before his eyes. "And anyhow... well, never mind." He decided not to mention the Blight. Ferelden would take it to heart, and Anders didn't want to worry the people before it was time.

"The Blight is rising again," Hendrik said darkly, setting a mug of steaming something in front of Anders. "We're not blind. And you are back..."

"Alistair's the one in charge," Anders smiled and inhaled the familiar aroma rising from his mug. "You remembered the nutmeg."

"No one has their coffee quite in this way," Hendrik smiled. "But what can I get your friend?" He turned to Lucanis who was watching them with a certain degree of fascination. He'd never been to Ferelden and it wasn't long ago that he met Anders, yet in that short time they somehow became best friends... or may be more. He didn't want to analyse it just yet, instead he allowed Ferelden to take him in.

"Something hot would be nice," he answered. "Coffee if you have it... in a more traditional way," he shot a glance at Anders' mug. "Or else... something else..."

"Is that an Antivan accent I hear?" Hendrik beamed at him. "Then I won't serve you coffee, for ours will taste awful to you. We don't get the good beans down here..." he sighed. "Instead, try some tea."

He went about assembling a "special blend" tea for Lucanis, taking a pinch of dried herbs from various jars and pots lining the shelves. He returned with a tea pot and a jar of honey.

"Let this brew for a bit, then strain it into a cup," he instructed Lucanis placing a strainer next to the tea pot. "Nobody wants dregs in their tea. It may be a bit bitter to taste, so here's honey. I hope you'll like the blend," he smiled.

"Lemon grass, ginger, cranberries... and something else I cannot place," Lucanis inhaled the aroma. "Sweet with a biting finish," he smiled.

While Lucanis was getting to know his tea, Anders asked about horses and Hendrik took him to the stables to make arrangements.

"Never took you for one to fall for a man," Hendrik said when they were out in the yard. "Or is it like Wolf and Zevran?"

"No, Lucanis isn't like Zevran," Anders rubbed his chin. "And neither am I..."

"Best friends, then?" Hendrik grinned. He'd seen it all, having run that tavern all of his life.

"You tell me," Anders faced him. "I'm still unsure what happened."

"Is that why you brought him to Ferelden? To figure things out?" Hendrik patted Anders on the shoulder. "Don't worry, kid. Life is a messy affair. You meet people along the way... and sometimes you get the spark. Like Wolf always carried a torch for you."

"And Morrigan."

"And Morrigan," Hendrik nodded. "For years... Other people just pass through your life... You lose people too... Wolf left, and only Zevran could follow."

"They were best friends, from where Wolf was standing," Anders nodded.

"They were much more than best friends, also from where Wolf was standing," Hendrik corrected him. "It's not about what you do during the night. It's about what you feel. As to how you choose to express it..." he shrugged. "Who cares. Exceptions don't change what you are."

Anders nodded, still looking confused and unsure. He was forty five, yet he felt like a kid of fifteen again. Hendrik smiled. He remembered when Anders was fifteen. That day when he appeared on the doorstep of his tavern, having swam across the lake. The happiness and exhilaration on his face for having escaped, for being free... even though he had no idea what to do with that freedom. He ordered the most audacious cup of coffee he could think of - a special brew, plenty of milk, sugar, cocoa, cinnamon, nutmeg...

He could barely finish his drink and templars were upon him. A year of solitary confinement followed. Anders was no longer a kid when he was finally released back into the tower proper. Something snapped in him during that time. He was not sure what to do next, but he was set on breaking the chains of the Circle of Magi somehow. And then... he took a wrong turn... miscalculated... blood magic was not a way out, it was just another noose.

"Don't overthink it," Hendrik smiled. "Things will fall into place. You've got a Blight to stop, Warden. See that you both still live when the Archdemon is slain."

...

"Ferelden is different to what I imagined," Lucanis said as they were riding towards Soldier's Peak. It was getting dark, they would soon have to find a place to camp. "There are a lot fewer bears than what I was told!"

"Oh, plenty of bears here," Anders smirked. "Look - a cave. It should be safe enough unless there's a bear inside... We better stop for the night."

The cave was safe, discounting a spider infestation. They cleared the spiders and lit a campfire, and Anders produced the pies and ale that Hendrik stuffed in the saddlebags.

"No coffee until we get to Soldier's Peak, I'm afraid," he passed Lucanis the ale. "There should be some up there though, the Drydens keep it supplied..."

"Stop fussing over me, I'm fine," Lucanis protested. "I'll give you a tour of Treviso later, we're not all obsessed with coffee... well... may be not all are obsessed with it as much as I..."

"He drinks coffee to keep me out!" Spite hissed, his spectral crow form landing next to them. "I am supposed to possess him! I am supposed to be in - not out!"

"Shut up!" Lucanis glared at the crow. "I am not this. I cannot be like this!"

"You are trying to stay awake..?" Anders finally understood what all the coffee was for.

"He cannot possess my body when I am awake," Lucanis nodded. "Or rather, I can keep him out."

"You have to sleep though," Anders was turning over the embers in the fire. "And he doesn't... Would he do things to spite you while you're asleep? Justice never did anything like that to me..."

"Why do you think I call him Spite?" Lucanis smirked. "He makes me sleepwalk."

"I found him!" The crow hissed and flapped its wings. "I arranged for your escape! Without me, you would have never sent that letter..!"

"What letter?" Anders and Lucanis asked in unison. "The letter... oh!" Anders realised who wrote that scroll. "We received a letter offering services of a master assassin to slay the gods. We only had to free him and his demon."

"WHAT?!" Lucanis was outraged.

"That was my response as well," Anders chuckled. "I didn't want an abomination on my team, thanks."

"I had to go back to Zara!" The crow hissed. "She perverted me, and yet I had to beg! All for you!" The crow hopped and flapped its wings, landing on Lucanis' shoulder.

"It was for your own sake, not for mine!" Lucanis glared but didn't chase off the crow.

"For you as well! Don't want to possess a twisted host!"

"So it was you who arranged my capture?!" It was now Anders' turn to glare at Spite. "And the dragon?!!"

"I had nothing to do with the dragon!" Spite croacked quite forcefully. "Zara arranged your capture! I merely told her about you and Justice..!"

"Well, then I can see why she would want me in her lab," Anders smirked. "Well played, Spite." He paused, then corrected himself: "Well played, Determination."

"Ahhh... He recognises me for what I am!" The crow jumped off Lucanis' shoulder, transforming into his ghost. "You sleep. I guard the camp."

[Lena Wolf]

Frostfall, 3E410 - Soldier's Peak

"You are cold," Anders added a little more wood to the fire but it didn't warm up the cave much. "You will catch hypothermia," he shook his head. "You are not used to the cold."

"No, and I didn't expect to land in a cold climate when I was getting dressed this morning," Lucanis smiled.

"Well, this is as much wood as I dare to add to the fire without us watching it," Anders got up and brought bedrolls and blankets from the saddle tack. He laid out the bedrolls, then proceeded removing his iron breastplate and arm guards, his boots and his armour, only keeping a thin shirt and pants.

"What are you doing?" Lucanis shivered just looking at him. "You'll freeze!"

"Take off as much of your clothes as you dare and join me," Anders grinned and lay down on the bedroll, keeping the space closer to the fire for Lucanis. "Clothing will only prevent you from warming up. Remember I told you how Wolf kept me warm on this very trek during our escape from the Circle Tower? You're about to find out first hand how it works."

Lucanis shook his head and sighed but complied. Anders wrapped blankets around them. It was strange to be so close to someone for whom he "carried a torch", the feeling itself was strange as well... The only other person for whom Anders ever felt anything similar was Wolf... and it wasn't the same. There was gratitude there, but there was also a bond of friendship and understanding. Yes, Wolf saved his life many times, often risking his own in the process, but Anders repaid that with watching over Wolf's blood magic, teaching him, training, advising, healing and also rescuing a few times... Anders wondered how Wolf fared in Tamriel, who would watch over his blood, since both he and Morrigan stayed behind in Thedas. Wolf would need to find someone quickly or face the danger of it running out of control... He had Zevran with him of course, but Zevran was no mage... Would Zevran call him if things got really dire? How long would it take for a message to arrive from Tamriel? How long would it take for him to sail there? Would it not be too late..? Perhaps. But he would leave the moment he got the call, regardless.

Lucanis was asleep. He pretended to sleep at first, for himself more than for Anders. It was so strange to lie so close to someone who made him want to be alive again, even with Spite ever present about his person. He thought he'd die in that prison. When he learned that Spite could not be removed, he resigned to die. He was not going to live as an abomination. But then Anders rescued him - was tricked into doing it, but did it anyway. Insisted on staying together when they stepped through the portal. Then put all that effort into pulling him out of the abyss when death already almost claimed him... How many times did he clean and stitch up his wound? Refused to give up... was that just a healer stubborn not to lose a patient or was it personal? And then that kiss... Whatever possessed Lucanis to initiate that kiss, he still could not understand. It wasn't Spite that time, he was certain. Where was he going with that? He did not want anything more... Anders did not want anything more... yet he responded. And now, being so close, feeling the warmth and breathing in that scent... sweet with a biting finish... why was his heart beating so fast?

Lucanis twitched in his sleep and said something in Antivan. Anders wasn't fully asleep, he stirred, adjusting the covers. It was so strange, all of it. Was he just trying to keep warm a patient who would otherwise succumb to the cold? A patient whose heart was racing... was that fever? Or just a dream..?

It had been the strangest night for both Anders and Lucanis, with so many thoughts rushing through their heads, with sleep and wakefulness intertwined until they could no longer tell what was a dream and what was real. And yet it was a restful night, and when morning came, they felt refreshed and ready to continue their road to Soldier's Peak.

"The fire has gone out and the cave's gone really cold," Anders said noticing that Lucanis too was awake. "This is the hardest part - between the blankets being off and the clothes on," he shivered.

"Let's not rush it," Lucanis closed his eyes again. "Next time it won't be the same."

"Next time..?" Anders wondered for a moment what Lucanis meant, then drifted off to sleep again.

...

Eventually they mustered the courage to throw off the blankets and brave the freezing cold of the cave. They got dressed as quickly as they could and decided to forego breakfast in order to save time.

"The sun is already pretty high on the horizon," Anders pointed at a faint disk hiding behind snow clouds. "If we leave now and not meet too much resistance, we'll make it to Soldier's Peak in time for supper."

Their trip was mostly uneventful. They stopped once or twice for a short rest, they finished all of their remaining provisions and finally saw the turrets of Soldier's Peak glow red in the rays of the setting sun. They rode into the courtyard, the dogs rushed to see who the visitors were.

"Wow, you really do have dogs in Ferelden!" Lucanis exclaimed in surprise as half a dozen of Mabari hounds surrounded them blocking their way.

"It's alright, they know me... I hope," Anders jumped off his horse. The dogs did remember him - the barking stopped, tails started wagging, but several of them still kept a weary eye on Lucanis.

"What in blazes..!" Levi Dryden came out of the keep. "Who's there?"

"Levi?" Anders called. "I don't have an appointment..."

"If it ain't..! I'll be damned!" Levi grinned, squeezing him in a hug. "I thought you've forgotten us completely! Ever since you moved to Vigil Keep..."

"Not a chance," Anders shook his head. "Everything alright here?"

"It is," Levi nodded. "Old Avernus's been a bit odd of late... but nothing we can't handle. Says the song is getting too loud for his ears..."

"That's why I am here..." Anders looked somber. "Another Blight is rising, Levi."

"Ah." Levi sighed. "Well, Warden, I know we are in good hands."

"Sometimes I wish I had your confidence..." Anders looked around, seeing visions only Wardens could see. "But this can easily keep till tomorrow," he smiled. "What's for supper? I brought a friend..."

...

"A Warden and his Crow just like in the old days!" An ageing woman was fussing around Anders and Lucanis, having installed them at a large kitchen table overloaded with food. "I know just what you Antivans like to eat! Zevran made sure of that!"

Lucanis looked a bit overwhelmed but had to admit that the cooking was superb.

"The style of Antiva City," he commented. "Juniper berries and a lot of black pepper. We use slightly different spice in Treviso, but this is Antivan still, to be sure!"

"You'll have to teach me that!" The woman produced a large hand-written cookbook. "Give me the recipe! Treviso style..."

"We'll be staying for a few days at least, Agatha, there is no rush..." Anders tried to get her off Lucanis' back. "We've had a long trip..."

"Oh! Of course! Where are my manners..!" Agatha put the book away. "I expect you'll be using the main bedroom? I'll get the fire going..." She turned to leave, then caught herself. "Unless you want separate rooms? I got so used to..." She cut herself off.

"Just do as usual," Lucanis smiled at her. "I am not Zevran but..."

She smiled and nodded, then hugged Anders really tight and ran out of the room.

"She nursed me back to health when I first got here," Anders smiled, noticing the surprise on Lucanis' face. "And a few times after that... She nursed a lot of people back to health."

"Of that I have no doubt," Lucanis smiled, thinking that whatever Anders said, he wasn't just another patient to Agatha. "You have a beautiful family."

[Lena Wolf]

Frostfall, 3E410 - The war council

Alistair arrived the following day. He looked somber but also relieved - all Grey Wardens had sensed the Blight and he was glad to finally do something about it. He went straight to business.

"Let me get this straight," he cornered Anders. "This Blight is not led by an Archdemon? But instead it is led by an elven god?"

"Two elven gods and two Archdemons, but we already killed one Archdemon," Anders nodded. "That's if Solas is to be believed."

"That's too many heads," Alistair was doubtful. "You cannot heave four generals at the head of an army."

"Which is why I don't believe everything Solas claims," Anders agreed. "Two gods apparently escaped: a man and a woman. They were both initially just elven mages, no gods. But then they captured a dragon each, and not just any dragon - those were ancient Tevinter gods. The elven mages somehow subjugated the gods and made them a part of themselves, elevating themselves into immortality and godhood. Hence they are now gods, each commanding a dragon. Kill those dragons and the gods stop being gods and turn into elven mages again. Furthermore," Anders looked at Alistair who seemed more and more perplexed. "Furthermore," he continued, "the woman is apparently the one who invented the Blight. So it is she who commands it, and not her dragon. Her dragon is an Archdemon - but don't worry about that because that's the dragon we killed. Solas also tried to explain where the previous Archdemons came from, but the tale was so woolly, I cannot possibly recall what he said."

"Stop, stop!!" Alistair protested. "This makes absolutely no sense, you get it, right? The elves predate Tevinter! There could be no 'ancient Tevinter gods' back in those days!" He shook his head vigorously, as if trying to get rid of the nonsense. "Stop repeating what Solas said and tell me what you've found out yourself."

"We've seen the woman - the goddess. We killed the dragon that she commanded. Solas says she is now mortal again, but I know for a fact that she commands two more dragons at least. I think it is not important. She apparently invented the Blight, in which case it is she who commands it. This too is unimportant. What is comes down to, is that the Blight has changed."

"We all feel something different in it, yes," Alistair nodded. "So, stripping Solas' tales, what are we left with? How does this Blight differ from the others?"

"It is self-healing and self-replenishing."

"Broodmothers? That's not new," Alistair looked unsure.

"No, no broodmothers. Blighted boils - blobs and blisters of sorts. Similar to demonic growth like what was in the Circle Tower during the blood mage rebellion. These boils produce darkspawn, and some darkspawn produces more boils."

"That's a nightmare," Alistair agreed.

"But the silver lining is that this darkspawn is squishy. Easier to kill than the usual kind, but there's more of it, a never ending supply, and overall it is worse."

"And also - the song has changed," Alistair nodded.

"Ah, you noticed."

"It's kind of hard to miss. It's much more persistent."

"Like we're hearing the Calling."

"This reminds me of the fake Calling we heard from that darkspawn lord during the time of the Inquisition," Alistair looked up. "It must have been terrible for Clarel and her Wardens... her mages mostly."

"You think mages hear it more intensely?"

"I think so."

"We should talk to Avernus," Anders nodded. "That's why I asked you to come here rather than me going to Vigil Keep. I think Avernus will have a thing or two to tell us."

...

"Young Wardens," Avernus greeted his visitors. "Came to see an old man in his tower?"

"How are you holding up?" Anders decided to be polite. "Levi mentioned you might be feeling a bit under the weather..."

"A bit under the Blight, you mean, yes," Avernus grinned. "The same as yourselves, I expect. Perhaps a bit worse since my taint is so old... You want to hear what I make of this one, how it differs from the previous Blights. Well, I've only lived through one - the Fifth Blight, the same as you," he smirked. "The Fourth Blight was over four hundred years ago - that's well before my time."

"True, I haven't thought of that..." Alistair sighed.

"Avernus, you can do better than that," Anders winked. "Alistair here may believe you, but not I."

"What is it that you don't believe?" Avernus raised an eyebrow. "I told the truth - the Fifth Blight was the only one I experienced."

"I don't believe that you have nothing to tell us," Anders stood firm. "About the song. It changed."

"And about Solas, you wish to add," Avernus grinned. "Perhaps. But do this old man a favour - I want to examine your friend first. His spirit... I noticed its presence, but it's bound to its host, at least to a certain extent. That's quite unusual. And I've missed its company for too long."

"Spite mentioned that he knew you..." Anders smiled. "I'll bring Lucanis to visit. That's why we are really here."

"What are you two talking about?" Alistair looked confused. "Is Lucanis another abomination? Really? Do we not have enough to do with the self-replenishing Blight about that you had to befriend an abomination? Anders! You out of your mind again?!"

"Well, I did not plan it..." Anders tried to defend himself. "I actually tried to avoid it, honest..."

"The spirit that possesses Lucanis is called Determination," Avernus intervened. "I've known it for a long time... But something happened. It got perverted - Spite was it? And this peculiar possession... half in, half out... Never seen anything like it." He shook his head and turned to Alistair. "This wasn't done by one of your elven gods. This was done by a modern mage. And unless I am very much mistaken, this mage will be enticed to work for the gods as well. This helps us understand just what it is we are facing. I believe that this Blight is different because it isn't just darkspawn any longer. It is darkspawn with demonic possession."

"Like Warden-Commander Clarel and her mages..." Alistair sighed. "I see where this is going..."

...

"So, you want to understand this Blight..." Avernus looked at Anders and Alistair. They were sitting in the Commander's office in the main keep. "Our duty is to protect the land from it, not to eradicate all Blight in the world," he pointed out.

"I wouldn't mind eradicating it, myself," Alistair shrugged. "Even if I have nothing to do after that."

"This desire is what led Warden-Commander Clarel astray," Avernus said gravely. "We must focus on what's achievable."

"And according to you, the Blight as such cannot be eliminated." Alistair frowned - he didn't like the thought. No one did.

"The Blight is like a disease, it exists on its own now," Avernus nodded. "Regardless of how it started. That elven goddess may think she invented it, but I doubt that... but it is of no importance. You can kill the goddess, but this won't kill the Blight."

"And so it is business as usual - drive the Blight back underground," Anders summarised. "But normally this is done by killing the Archdemon that leads it. It isn't so clear-cut this time."

"That's the trouble," Avernus agreed. "It is no longer a single dragon that you have to kill, it is a hydra with many heads. I talked to Lucanis, I talked to Spite. The spirit of Determination was subjugated using blood magic and bound to Lucanis. Lucanis was then tortured to pervert the spirit and turn it into a demon. Ordinarily the demon can kill the soul of the host and the host and become free once again, but Spite has been constrained. This is no ordinary blood magic - the mage used blighted blood in this ritual. Spite can be controlled with blighted blood - and Lucanis with him." Avernus paused and paced the room. "You know what happened here at Soldier's Peak three hundred years ago," he looked at Alistair and Anders in turn and they nodded. "We were under seige and Sophia made the decision to summon demons. I thought I took everything into account... but there are always too many factors with demons. We could not control them, and demons turned on us." He shook his head. "But Spite can be controlled with blighted blood... or red lyrium, perhaps... an artefact could be enchanted, the wielder does not have to be a mage... You see where this is going, don't you? That mage is as bad as a god."

"And Lucanis is a liability," Alistair looked stern. "If Spite can be controlled like that, then Lucanis does not control his own actions."

"Well, for the most part he does, but it's true that he could be overruled by someone with such an artefact," Avernus agreed. "And Lucanis is likely not the only victim... Spite said he saw other attempts, but the hosts were dead. He also thought that the same mage experimented with making demons directly out of spirits, without a host or possession... Obedient demons, you understand!" Avernus glared at them. "Something that neither I nor Clarel could achieve!"

"And assuming that the goddess controls the Blight, at least to some extent..." Anders said slowly. "If this mage were to share this knowledge, the goddess would add demons to the darkspawn."

"Something along those lines," Avernus nodded. "Which is why I think it is just as important to kill that mage as it is to kill the goddess."

"Agreed," Alistair was taking it in. "But the question remains: how do we stop the Blight? Since there's no single Archdemon at the top."

"It's what Avernus said - it's a hydra. There are multiple heads," Anders looked resolved. "We have to find and destroy them all. That will drive darkspawn back underground."

"Try not to get derailed by Solas," Avernus turned to Anders. "He will enter your dreams again, now that he found a path... And you are easy to find, you light up like a beacon ever since Justice touched you... Listen to Solas but don't believe everything he says. But I don't need to tell you this - you already know it."

"Is he really a god? Solas?" Anders looked up.

"He is," Avernus nodded. "Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf. He isn't just an elven mage, he isn't like the others, regardless of what he says. Mythal is a real goddess too, which is why she cannot be killed. But the others... a god that can shift in and out of godhood, is not a god." Avernus got up, ready to return to his tower. "I talked a lot with Wolf Asgarsen about Fen'Harel. They know him by a different name in Tamriel, but we agreed that it was the same god. Beware of his lies. Wolf never trusted Solas, and neither should you."

"Then we have a plan," Alistair nodded. "Return to Minrathous and find and kill the mage that runs the prison you were in..."

"The portal from that prison led to Treviso in Antiva," Anders objected.

"A one way portal," Alistair pointed out. "You have no leads in Treviso... apart from Lucanis... err... perhaps you're right... Anyhow, I leave it up to you!" He beamed at him.

"Keep Lucanis close," Avernus said with urgency. "Keep Spite close. He can now open a portal directly to here - we need to keep in touch. And should there be any trouble, bring him to me. I think I may be able to overrule that blood magic of theirs... I might know a trick or two still," he winked.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If you thought that Anders wasn't making much sense with his explanations regarding elven gods and their dragons, then you'd be right - poor Anders is completely confused! As am I. The story of Dragon Age: The Veilguard is too complicated for me to grasp. It has so many contradictions, so many reversals of the story told in the first three games. I was lost in it... and so Anders could do no better. We decided that it was all Solas' fault, after all, he is the Dread Wolf, God of Lies. I also didn't like how the game ended - it didn't make sense to me. So I'm telling it differently. We have a plan. Now let's see if we can fix the world once again.

[Renee]

She goes to Elsweyr. "He gave Lena a broad smile, nearly disappearing behind it...." Lol. Indeed, Khajiit must have a BIG smile, with lots of teeth. 🐱

Nice, Cartographer's Guild.

http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?s=&...st&p=340887

This post has been edited by Renee: Jan 15 2025, 05:23 PM

[Lena Wolf]

She goes to Elsweyr. "He gave Lena a broad smile, nearly disappearing behind it...." Lol. Indeed, Khajiit must have a BIG smile, with lots of teeth. 🐱

I was thinking of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. He used to disappear almost completely, only leaving behind his smile. Alice found it rather unnerving.