Liberation
It was a marvelous day; the only little stain was the blood and sod around some of the streets. Yesterday's battle had gone just as it was supposed to – quick and somewhat clean. Of course there was resistance and it had been difficult breaching the gates, but once that feat had been accomplished Halamishiral had just been a gaping hole to walk right into. The empress had called her allies to rally at the capital so this was a most opportune time to conquer more of the southern terrains. Ah! rumors could work in his favor. Just let a few of his elven agents spread it through the capital and it would spread on its own. Just like a good cleansing fire.
"Grand-Duke Gaspar," sounded a familiar voice from behind him. He turned to find his General, Henry behind him.
"Ah, my friend! how is the city?" he asked and patted the man on his back, the thrusts ringing a hollow sound upon the heavy plate.
"It is clean, there is no sign of traps or hidden garrison, it seems half the guard force was sent to Val Royeax and the local Guard-Lieutenant didn't want to risk his men's life on behalf of an empress who abandoned them." The report Henry gave was must uplifting.
Halamshiral was a wonder. By no means impressive in architecture, the buildings far from matched those of the Arlathan elves, but the Dalish of old did have a knack for carpentry with the rare wood-sorts and their buildings were very tough.
Most of all however was the location of the city. Right in between the Dalish plain and the hidden forests under "the shade," the enormous cliff that engulfed the city, giving it protection from its behind and flanks. Supposedly the Dalish had held the Orlesian and Exhalted forces off for several weeks before succumbing to hunger and submitting to imperial rule.
A legend said that the Dalish had ancient weapons hidden inside the cliff, but no one had ever found an entrance that bend the entire way round to the underside of the ceiling, where the doors should be.
"Henry," the Duke inquired, "how does our force at Lydes fare?" Splitting their main force was a daring move, but they attempted it since their reports had told that forces from all the southern cities had been withdrawn.
Besides, the taking of these cities was hardly crucial to their campaign, they could always retreat their forces if any of them had met too much resistance and taken them both in two turns, it was only a matter of time at this point.
"No recent reports I'm afraid." Henry answered. Last they had heard that the Lydes-force had been delayed because of Darkspawn, but nothing more than a small group.
Suddenly a skinny elf came running towards them, Gaspar recognized him as one of the faster messengers, but didn't bother to remember his name. "Grand-Duke!" He gasped as he stopped in front of them and caught his breath.
Gaspar's nose twitched, something was amiss: "What is it boy?" he growled. The elf straightened up and looked at them.
"A report from Lieutenant Lareau, Jader has fallen and the forces are retreating to Lyren, reports tell of forces approaching Halamshiral." The elf inhaled heavily after saying it all in one breath.
"What?" the duke yelled, his head red with fury. "Has Celene dared an attack across the sea?"
"No my lord, the army is not Orlesian?"
"What?" The Duke's head went almost pale now, a third party? "Who?" he yelled.
"They are…" the elf hesitated, as if he was to be punished. "They are Fereldan my lord."
"Fereldan?" Henry asked, not believing the words coming from the frail man. "Ferelden would never make such a daring move, are you quite sure?"
"The report." The elf stuttered and handed a few bound pieces of paper.
Henry grabbed it and waved the courier off, sharing the sight of the content with his Duke.
"Werewolves?" He gasped. "My lord."
The Duke's eyes widened in horror. The report spoke of a nightly assault just two days ago. Werewolves climbing Jader's walls, assaulting the gate guards and opening it to a mixed force of humans and elves swiftly taking over.
"It doesn't mention Ferelsen specifically…" Henry noted.
"No one else is known to have had werewolves in their ranks Henry." The Duke started pacing around. "During the blight ten years ago the King, Marcus Cousland assembled an army unlike any ever seen. He restored the Dwarves way of making golems and conquered the southern forests for a group of werewolves he encountered."
"So he has assembled the forces of the blight again and attempt to take Orlais?"
"I met Marcus a few years ago. I have never seen so much ambition and raw charisma in any man before, and that's saying something for he is very young. When he married Queen Anora everyone thought Ferelden would go back to being complacent, but he just kept building armies and eventually rose from the prince-consort role to that of King once the Queen trusted him enough." The Duke stopped to think without his pacing disrupting him and leaned over the railing of the balcony, overlooking the city he had just conquered.
"So he has been building his forces towards this day you suspect?"
"No, I don't think he has had a target specifically, at least he did not seem to have resentment towards Orlais like Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir did. But I think that he might have leapt at the chance when reports of our war with Celene started spreading. Damnation!"
The messenger suddenly appeared, this time even paler than before. "My Duke." He almost lost his voice in the scream.
"I'm right here boy, what is it?"
"Forces- forces evberywhere!"
The Dukes pupils went wide, he grabbed the elf my the neck: "What forces? Where?" He looked out on the plains, but no one was sighted.
"Not here my Duke, everywhere."
"Be specific boy!" Henry growled.
"Nevarra has attacked Val Chevin, the new just hit. And a force mixed of the Fereldan fleet and the Free Marches armada is laying assault on every harbor in the empire. Royalties have been sighted too. King Marcus of Ferelden and King Bhelen of Orzammar has just appeared outside Montsimmard with an army of Dwarves and golems of steel and rock. The King and Queen of the united Free Marches Sebastian Vael and Marian Hawke is with the Armada laying siege on Orlais."
The Duke launched the elf into the floor, just as red as before.
"I get that Nevarra and Ferelden is not happy with orlais…" Henry noted, "but the Free Marches? I have never heard of the Marcers wanting to expand?"
"This is just the room they needed. All the former provinces of the empire have risen up and are now coming back to bite us in the ass just as we are weakest." Something clicked just then and he looked up towards Henry, then down at the flinching messenger. "Get me parchment and quill elf, I need to write." The elf swiftly ran.
"What for my liege? Are you going to call the Lydes army back?"
"That too Henry, but first I must contact Celene with these knews. If we are lucky a messenger or two might make it to Val Royeaux in time for us to unite. We cannot let Orlais fall because of our differences."
"We could not have predicted that Ferelden, Nevarra and the United Free Marches would ally against us."
"What made Orlais strong was our unity. Celene has lost that, but even if I have to surrender we have no chance if we do not unite…"
"How do you think the dwarves and the kings of Ferelden got so far wast my liege?"
"The Deep Roads. It has been rumored for years that Ferelden and a force of local Grey Wardens has aided the dwarves in retaking some of the roads and some thaigs. Apparently they reach all the way into Orlais now."
"So the dwarven empire is rising again?"
"Possibly."
The messenger arrived yet again, now with a few sheets of blank parchment and a quill. The duke yanked them from him with a low mumble and placed it on the flat railing for support. It took him a short hour to finish the letters and give the messenger instructions to their destinations.
"Who did you send for?" Henry asked.
"Celene, The Divine, Queen Anora the Viscount office in Kirkwall. Hopefully they will arrive and solve the issue before any trouble comes up. Please leave me Henry, and get those gates fixed.
They waited a day, then another. No answers, but that would have been strange too, it would take two days for a messenger to reach Orlais on horse and a week to reach Kirkwall and Denerim.
On the third day they started to hear drums; from the west: a great force of dwarven soldiers and bulky golems arrived. In the middle rode a man on a horse and a dwarf on a bronto. The Kings of Ferelden and Orzammar had arrived. After an hour you could tell the individual soldiers from one another and they had been joined by an army coming from the east. Armor-clad Werewolves and a large number of Dalish hunters along a great army of Fereldan forces too. Suddenly a large shadow fell upon them, they were gathered in the square, and out of nowhere a Dragon landed in the middle of it. A small one, but still. The stationed archers pointed arrows on it but it did not attack. A man swung himself from its neck, he wore shining silver heavy armor and had a short goatee beard.
"Grand-Duke Gaspard?" He asked. Gaspard nodded. "I am father Kolgrim, I bring you a message on behalf of the Fereldan King." The man handed him a thick letter, swung himself upon the Dragon and flew off. When they looked up they noticed that it started circling the peak of the Great Shade along with a number of other dragons.
Gaspard looked down and opened the letter, it read as follows:
For Grand-Duke Gaspard.
I, Marcus Cousland – King of Ferelden claim possession of Halamshiral with the intent of handing it over to my allies of the Dalish Elves. Before you get the list of recruitment I think a presentation is in order.
I command an army of hundreds of thousands of soldiers. In this army I have direct command of forces from my own country and the werewolves of the Brecillian forest. My allies include a number of Dalish Clans, the Dwarves of the Orzammar Empire and the Free Circle of Magi of Highever. Our secondary allies from Nevarra and the United Marches are conquering the rest of Orlais as you read this.
Currently we hold:
United Marches: Val Firmin, Velun and Val Foret.
Nevarra: Val Chevin, Arlesans and Montford.
Ferelden: Jader, Montsimmard and Verchiel.
We have avoided your forces in Lydes and it is only a matter of time before Ghislain and Churneau fall as well as Val Royeaux.
I ask that you surrender; I have a force with enough manpower to take Halamshiral by force five times over, but your men need not suffer an inevitable death. If you surrender we will allow you to live under the superiority of me and my allies and abide by our rules, or freely get exile to any other nation in Thedas.
In the moment our forces are enclosing upon Val Royeaux, any ally you would have from there is about to make the same decision as you.
Deny and die or accept and leave.
The choice is yours.
