We're supposed to say Merry Christmas. Now, I have no idea what this is supposed to be or why you're supposed to be merry but.

Overthinking, Warden.

I don't think enough to overthink.

.. that's actually... true?

I believe in ending the year with a healthy dose of honesty. Maker looks kindly on it.

Which is why he made you into a Warden.

...I don't like you.

I like me enough. In my name and that of the Team 1800 (including our very crabby secretary), we wish you a belated Merry Christmas and a pleasant New Year.

Now back to what's important.

Us.

xxxXXXxxx

Boss,

Arkytekt keeps calling. Told him you still in toilet and he gave me stink-eye. Think he guesses you shining him off. Orders?
Randum Spawn


Spawn,

Kill him. And next time you think about writing something like this? Kill yourself too. Don't want you to breed more stupidity into Thedas. Howe is enough.

Urthemiel

xxxXXXxxx

I hope you didn't teach them yourself. Because if you did.

I blame Dumat. 'Oh, let's get them to invade that prissy little bastard's place. What's the worst that can happen? We can go party on Golden City after!' Little bitch.

xxxXXXxxx

Dear Urthemiel,

I would like to know why Ser Cauthrien was so much harder to defeat than you were. I mean, you're a great big dragon with all sorts of claws and teeth and scales and assorted pointy bits. She's just a squishy, soft, meaty niblet in some tin plating. Yet, she kicked my ass halfway to Sunday more times than I can count, while I polished you off on the very first try. Are you an imposter? Is Cauthrien the real Archdemon?

Yours sincerely,

Suilven


Suilven,

No, my dear. She is not an Archdemon. She is, however, a female (somewhat repressed but we all know how females can run a show into the ground), oddly deluded (very constipated) and lacking most common sense. That would make anyone into a particularly dangerous and messed up individual. Imagine a donkey with those cover like things in its eyes. Only sees forward, never to the sides. Now, to why she isn't an Archdemon.

I was fighting against an army, she was fighting against four bums. My armies were distracted with said armies, her group was very focused on sticking arrows down people's throats. I am awesome, she is not.

Repeat after me. Urthemiel is the Archdemon and I shall adore him in an appropriate manner without ever confusing him with a would-be annoying she-dragon who would obey a man twice her age if he told her to jump off a cliff. Repeat it one hundred times.

I'm sorry but punishment must be dealt with. Notice that I'm keeping my wrath to non-lightning involved events.

Yours,

Urthemiel (The One and Only True Archdemon in the Dragon Age)

xxxXXXxxx

Cover like things?

Do you know what I call my left claw? Then don't expect me to know what you humans call every little thing.

do you really have a name for that?

The point. It flew right by you.

xxxXXXXxxx

Bestest dearest awesomest Aedan,

Bark. Barkbarkbarkbarkbark. Barkbarkbark barkbarkbark. Barkbarkbark. Bark?

signed:

[muddy paw print]

P.S.

Barkbark bark bark!


Dear Dane,

That's my boy, that's my cute widdle baby boy. You keep those people all in line, will you? Sigrun to Amaranthine, Nathaniel to the Pearl before he spontaneously combusts, Oghren out of the Keep before my ale evaporates, don't forget Varel's not supposed to get into the women's area and your Satinalia gift is under my bed. Don't wake Morrigan, she'll hunt you down and eat you and I love you too much for that.

Yes. You can keep her boots. Don't tell her I said so.

P.S.

Miss you too, boy. Get a ride here with one of Urthemiel's beasts.

xxxXXXxxx

You're cooing. You're actually cooing.

Your servants give themselves to eat to their future mother so they can do more of their creepy little clones. What's more disturbing?

Damn right, old man.

xxxXXXxxx

Dear Aedan,

I think there's a Templar who's been trying to kill me. He follows me everywhere with shrewd eyes and mumbles about how demons take over when he least expect it.

Help!

Respectfully,

Connor Guerrin


Dear Connor,

Grab a dagger. That's a good beginning. Pointy end first and don't worry about all the gushing blood. Keep at it until the weirdo stops moving. Blame everything on the addled-brain-guy named Carol or something.

Who's your favorite would-be uncle? Who is?

Greetings,

Aedan Cousland

xxxXXXxxx

I'm suddenly excessively happy I'm not your kid.

You got agree it's a practical advice and probably the best he has heard from either of his parents. 'Hide your magic, dear' and 'you'll be an amazing Arl', tch. I say let the kid play with matches and do whatever he wants. Be a real man.

I rest my case.

xxxXXXxxx

Aedan Cousland,

It had come to my attention you are, in fact, a blood mage and consort with corrupt creatures which are an abomination to the world of the Maker. You are given two days to confess and surrender to the nearest Chantry.

Meredith of Kirkwall, Knight-Commander


Knight-Commander,

It has come to my attention that you are, in fact, insane. Don't write me again.

Aedan Cousland, Warden-Commander

xxxXXXxxx

Aedan,

I heard from Hawke you're supposed to be a mage? How come I didn't know about that? You could have helped me. You could help us, the presence of someone as important as a mage, that would be a great help for the magic community in the city. Write fast, I want to know just how you will intervene in Kirkwall.

Your friend,

Anders


Anders,

Forgetting I am incredibly pissed at you for allowing yourself to be possessed when every bloody mage should know saying 'no' is the way to go (shut up, I didn't mean that to rhyme that pathetically and I mean, it's NO. How hard it is to say NO? Everyone dies after they say yes or end up as giant walking blob. SAY NO. I should make this into a Ferelden-Wide Campaing. 'The Virtues of Saying No'), I will reply to you.

I AM NOT A MAGE, YOU MAKER-FORSAKEN IDIOT.

Your boss,

Aedan

P.S - You idiot.

xxxXXXxxx

Who started that bloody rumor?

You didn't.

Of course not.

xxxXXXxxx

Dear Ser Urthemiel,

I find myself in possession of the enclosed message and accompanying illustration which would appear to be directed to you. As I'm fairly certain I would also be possessing a Sword of Mercy up my arse in short order if these were to come to the attention of my colleagues, I have forwarded them to you and kept no copies.

Sincerely,

FPHA, Esq,

[enclosure]

Heyyy, dude! It's Raz.! Long time no see, dra'. I just, like, bumped into this little mage dude in the Fade so I totally took over his body. Pretty awesome, huh? What's up? Last thing I remember we were doing body sacraments off a half dozen sweet young things at one of your majorly awesome parties and you were doing your trademark hoochie-kootchie fertility flap. Here, I'll make the little mage dude paint it. Ha - good times, am I right? Dude, I am still so hungover! I'm gonna just nap for a century or so - the little mage dude is getting all twitchy anyway. Peace out, dra'!

P.S. Hey, have you seen my temple? I could've sworn I left it here somewhere . . .

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Dear Razikale,

By the love of everything, man. Would you mind to write a sentence without the use of 'like' every couple of words? It gives me a migraine just to try and read it. Kindly, don't do it again or I'll come by to strap your behind to something warm. Like Caradin and down that volcano.

Ditch the mage, there's a war going on and mages are cannon fodder. With your best interests in mind, I have included you in a party ready to depart to Antiva. I have in good authority (the elf that's always attached to Cousland) that the last individuals sent there to be free of addictions to oddly colored lyrium (some crazy dwarf who went around eating people and a red rock shaped woman) are doing remarkable progress. No more drooling. Think about it.

Your Temple has been burnt a little by fanatic Andrastians but nothing a good paint job can't fix. Contact Haven for proper workforce, make sure to pretend you're a woman. Knowing you, it won't be hard. You always did like silk sheets.

Now, as I have been so kind and gentle with you (which, you have to admit, doesn't happen often), perhaps you would burn all of those pictures? I am trying to cultivate the proper educated and dignified image of a God and being shown wasted in interesting clothing might not help.

Yours,

Urthemiel.

P.S. – Before that century nap though, Lusacan and I are hitting up Chora's Den. Get yourself here in more or less twenty.

P.P.S. – Leave the camera home or I'm sicking my Warden on you.


As always, we are incredibly grateful to Enaid (Randum Spawn, Razikale and Dog) and Suilven for their contributions. The Powerful Members Behind This Thing will keep note of your names for future reference. And thank you to everyone who has reviewed and/or lurked.

Letters to either Urthemiel or Aedan should be sent through PMs.

Until the next time.