Hello again everyone, thanks for sticking with me. Let me just say now, this is by far the longest story I've ever written, I really have no idea how I've kept it up so long, but I just hope that my inspiration holds out long enough to finish it. On that note, I've only published about half of what I've written so far. I'm so to publish because I'm a perfectionist who proofreads his stuff about three times first, and I tend to go back and change things, and if I've already published it, then it's a real pain to go back and fix it.

In response to JordanMathias comment about how I switched the personalities from how Tabris and Mahariel are usually written... yep, I did that on purpose. When I write I try to break as many clichés as I possibly can. Also this is the way that makes the most sense to me, as Mahariel lived in isolation her entire life, and has only seen humans maybe two or three times at most, whereas Tabris grew up under the heel of humans and has been kicked around by them her whole life... I really talk too much. Here's chapter 7 for your reading pleasure. Enjoy!

'Yusaris,' Eebon thought silently, 'I hold the legendary blade, Yusaris, in my hands!' He had barely been able to tear his eyes away from the massive blade since receiving it from Knight-Commander Greagoir only a few hours ago. If the blade's legendary history were to be believed, then it had been recovered from the lair of dragon by another legendary figure, Dane, and used to kill the dragon. It had also slain werewolves and been carried in several large scale wars and hundreds of smaller ones. And now Eebon held it.

He inspected it for the thousandth time since receiving it. The haft was longer than his forearm and looked to be made of bronze, the upper half of the handle was covered in dull serrations to improve the wielder's grip, the handguard jutting straight out to the sides and ending in spikes sharp enough to open a man's skin and spill whatever was inside. The blade itself was made of a metal that Eebon could not place. At first he had thought it was mere steel, but that was quickly proven false, the weapon was too strong and too light to be steel, and was the wrong color to be red steel silverite. The color of the blade looked like steel that had been clouded over, while the edges, sharper than any other weapon Eebon had ever seen, were mirror reflective. On one side of the blade, near the haft, were the words 'You are my mirror', and on the opposite side, 'Reflect'. Eebon had no idea what that was supposed to mean. On first holding the blade, Eebon had run his thumb across the edge to test the sharpness, and had promptly cut his thumb, he had not made the same mistake twice.

After leaving the Tower, it was quickly decided that a day of rest was in order. The only one to object was Sten, which had hardly surprised Eebon and Endrin. The group had chosen to camp just out of distance of the tavern and small community that supplied the Tower. Some of the Wardens and their companions had decided to rent out rooms above the tavern for the night, and sleep in a real bed with a real roof over their head. Others had chosen to instead pitch their tents and spend the day in their camp, it had mostly been Endrin and Morrigan's idea.

Almost immediately the group had scattered to carry out their own desires. Most of them had went to The Spoiled Princess for a few drinks and a hot meal. Endrin had taken up her bow and claimed she was going into the woods to hunt. Eebon had rented a room, but had hardly spent any time in it at all before coming back out to the camp, by the time Eebon came back to the campsite only Morrigan remained. Eebon still hadn't actually met the witch, although Endrin had briefly mentioned meeting her and someone called Asha'bellanar, who Endrin said was Morrigan's mother. Eebon figured Asha'bellanar was an elven word or some sort or another, and Endrin spoke of her as some sort of mythic figure.

"Endrin tells me that it was you and your mother who gave us the Grey Warden treaties."

"Yes, 'twas." Morrigan said.

"In that case, you have my thanks."

Morrigan nodded and said nothing.

"She also said that your mother is Asha'bellanar. Although I'm guessing she's not an elf."

Morrigan chuckled quietly, "No she isn't. That is what the Dalish call her. It means 'Woman of Many Years'. My mother has had many names over the centuries, however the name she is most frequently referred to as is 'Flemeth'."

Eebon's eyes shot open. "The same Flemeth from the legend?"

"Oh, so you've heard the legend? Yes, she is the same, although the legend is largely fiction. It does make for a pleasant tale though. Why do you ask?"

"The part of the legend where Flemeth killed Bann Conobar Elstan. Is that true?"

Morrigan nodded, "Oh, most definitely. Tis her favorite part of the tale, I think."

Eebon laughed hard. "Well isn't that an interesting coincidence?"

"What?"

Eebon couldn't help another laugh. "Conobar died without an heir, and he was the last of the Elstan line, the ruling family of Highever. At that time Highever was only a minor part of the much larger Bannorn of Amaranthine. I suppose it's hardly surprising that Conobar's Captain of the Guard, one Sarim Cousland took control of Highever… however, soon after she took control, she declared Highever independent."

Morrigan's eyes widened slightly in interest. "Really? I can hardly imagine the lord of Amaranthine was pleased."

"No he wasn't. He quickly declared war on Highever. The war lasted for thirty years, and when it was finally over, Highever stood victorious over Amaranthine, which had lost the majority of its southwestern lands. Highever only continued to grow after that, with the Couslands in control of it."

"An interesting story, Eebon, but still I fail to see any coincidence to any of this."

"My full name is Eebon Cousland."

Morrigan smiled oddly. "You're right, that is an interesting coincidence."

"I suppose my family owes your own a debt!" Eebon laughed again with amusement, then his face hardened and his amusement vanished. "Excuse me." He said, and he walked into the nearby woods.

Endrin slowly walked along the edge of the lake. She had constantly been on the move for over a month now. Today was the first day since she'd been forced to leave her clan that she'd had any time at all to herself. However it seemed that her time alone wasn't meant to last for very long. She found Alistair sitting on the edge of the lake with his bare feet in the water. Endrin considered leaving him and continuing on with her solitary walk, but Alistair looked so sad, much the same way that Endrin felt. Almost before Endrin realized it, she had tugged off her finely crafted leather boots and was taking a seat next to Alistair.

The man nearly jumped when he noticed Endrin approach. "Oh, Endrin… It's you."

Endrin cocked an eyebrow. "You were expecting someone else?"

"No, it's just that you startled me. I didn't hear you coming."

The eyebrow stayed raised above the other, "Really? I wasn't being quiet."

"I guess I was just thinking harder than usual."

"Well don't hurt yourself." Endrin said.

Alistair looked again at Endrin, not sure if it was an insult or a joke, for the past few days he'd taken numerous verbal jabs from both Morrigan and Kylae, as well and a decent number from Roaran, although the dwarf's tended to be more humorous and less malicious. Endrin however was smiling, and Alistair found that he couldn't help but smile back. "Good one!" He said.

"I thought so." Endrin's smile disappeared when she saw the look on his face. "Are you okay?"

"It's just… I can't stop thinking about Ostagar, and losing Duncan."

"Do you want to talk about it? It might help."

Alistair brightened marginally. "You don't have to listen to me whine. I know you didn't know Duncan nearly as well as I did. In fact I don't think you even liked him."

Endrin managed to avoid the look of disdain that she felt. "No. But I know he was important to you."

"If I had been there," Alistair started, "Maybe I could have done something… maybe I could have protected him!"

"Maybe you could have. But I think more than likely you would have only died beside him."

"You don't know that!" Alistair said, a bit sharply.

Endrin put a hand on his shoulder. "Yes I do." She said softly. "Alistair… I was there. There was nothing you could have done."

"Then how did you get away?"

"I ran." Endrin grimaced.

Alistair flared, "And you just left him to die!"

"Alistair!" Endrin pleaded, "Don't be like that. I didn't want to leave him, I wanted to stay and fight! So did Eebon. He told us to go, he told us to leave him, and we still wanted to stay and fight! Alistair, he ordered us to leave!"

"He did?" Alistair asked.

"Yes."

The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes before Alistair pulled his feet out of the water and began pulling on his boots again, Endrin followed suit. "It's just that…" Alistair said, "I don't have anything of his. I don't have anything to remember him by. He was like a father to me, and I don't have anything."

"I'm sorry Alistair." Endrin offered, "And I do know how you feel. You see… I lost someone too. I lost a brother.

"How do you handle it? How do you live with it? You… you just keep going. If you hadn't told me just now, I never would have been able to guess."

Endrin sighed. "I remember him how he was in life. I think of the times we had together. But I also know that he wouldn't want me to be sulking over his loss."

"I could try to do that, I suppose. But it won't be easy."

"It never is."

"When this is over I'd like to have a proper funeral for Duncan, or maybe put up a memorial of some kind for him. I don't know if he had any family, but he did say that he came from Highever. That would be a good place to start… Come to think of it, Eebon was a noble of Highever before he became a Warden, maybe he could help."

"You could always ask him." Endrin was happy to see that Alistair was finally starting to brighten.

Alistair picked up his sword and shield from where he'd set them and put them both across his back once more. "Elves don't cremate their dead, do they? What do you do exactly?"

"We bury them and plant a tree over their grave."

"That's beautiful…" Alistair said, finally managing a smile. "Life, springing from death." He started walking in the direction of the tavern, Endrin followed. "Endrin," He said, "Thank you."

"For what?" The elf asked.

"For listening to me. And for helping me through this."

Endrin laid a hand on his shoulder again. "You're my friend Alistair, I'm happy to listen to you, and more than happy to help."

Alistair smiled, he'd had so few friends in his life, and up until then he wasn't sure how Endrin had felt about him. Although now he was very happy to know that there was at least one person in the world he could count on.

Endrin looked up at Alistair and her mischievous smile flashed across her face once more. "And it's not your fault you were born a human!"

"Hey!" Alistair said, feigning hurt.

Despite the fact that most of the group had taken rooms at The Spoiled Princess, they all ended up back at the camp that evening, even Eebon, who had been absent the entire day. The first issue to come up had been for Eebon and Endrin to share stories with their fellow Wardens on how they had survived and escaped Ostagar.

Next came the 'introductions'. Their group had grown again, as Wynne had elected to stay with the Wardens, and some of the Wardens had still never actually met Leliana and Sten. On hearing about Leliana's Maker given vision, the only ones not to laugh or make some skeptical remark were the two dwarves, who knew absolutely nothing of the Maker, nor the chantry. Sten's story was significantly shorter as no one knew much about him, save he was a murderer. On hearing that news, everyone inched away from the giant, save for Roaran, who only grunted.

Finally, the question was asked about who would lead them. Dharr was the first to speak on that issue. "I think it should fall to Alistair or Eebon. They are the only Grey Wardens with more than a few days experience. In the brief time I've known them, I've seen Alistair more than prove himself as a capable warrior, and while I have only seen Eebon in action in the fight against Uldred, we have all witnessed the bodies he left behind."

"That's funny." Alistair said. "I would have said you should lead us. Back at the Tower of Ishal, you were the one who got us through that whole nightmare. You were the one who organized us to fight the ogre."

"It's true," Dharr admitted, "I probably have the most experience fighting against darkspawn. But also I'm a dwarf. I've been on the surface for less than a month. I have no sense of direction up here, I can't read the land like Eebon or Endrin can. I don't know any of the landmarks to look for, and I couldn't track a herd of brontos up here." The non-dwarves only stared at him, they had never seen nor heard of a bronto, Dharr's foolish grin was mostly concealed behind his black facial hair. "No," he said, "I would be a poor choice for a leader in this endeavor."

"Well I'm not going to lead…" Alistair stated, "Bad things happen when I lead: we get lost, people die, and I find myself stranded all alone… without any pants!" No one laughed at his jest, and Alistair felt quite the fool. "Look, I'm just not a leader," he said, "Let Eebon do it. He's a trained fighter and an able leader. I've seen him in action before, before we all met. I'd say he's our best bet."

About half of the assembled group nodded their consent, the others looked on skeptically. Of everyone gathered there, only Kylae and Alistair had met Eebon prior to Ostagar, and before his family had been slaughtered, the Eebon that rest of them knew was an able warrior, of that there could be no doubt, but was also a cold-hearted man. Eebon spoke before any others could comment, "It's true that I've been trained for this. But… I find that I cannot accept the task. My heart is… troubled."

The other Wardens had all known that Eebon's family had been killed, and their companions had found out one way or another, although no one knew the full story behind it. Kylae had asked him about it once and Eebon had locked up tighter than a clam. Eebon spoke again, "I just can't do it. Maybe later, after I have had more time to grieve. But for now at least, I say Endrin leads."

The response around the camp was unanimous. Shock.

"What?" Endrin said, more surprised than anyone else. "Why me?"

"Think about it." Eebon answered, "Like you've all informed us multiple times, you were your clan's best hunter. You have a warrior's instincts. And I think most importantly, you care so much about others, and put them before yourself. I remember the kindness you showed the elves just outside of Lothering, and back in the Tower you stood between the mages and an army of templars, alone, and would not let the templars kill the mages. So in summary, you're smart, you're an excellent fighter, and you're compassionate. I think the choice is obvious. Endrin should lead."

One of Endrin's eyebrows arched. "Are you serious?"

"Completely serious." Eebon confirmed, and looked at the others.

Alistair nodded. "I agree with Eebon."

"So do I." Tylis spoke up.

One by one, the Wardens and their companions all voiced their agreement, with the exception of Sten and Kylae, who both refused to voice their opinion.

"So," Eebon said, "What's our next move?"

Endrin stood up and fingered her bow as she did so, perhaps out of nervousness. "We… we carry out Duncan's last command. He told us to use the treaties and kill the Archdemon, and that's just what we're going to do! Between Orzammar and Dalish Clans, Orzammar is the closest, so I think that's where we should head next. Dharr, Roaran, if we can get you to the Frostback Mountains, can you get us to your city from there?"

Both the dwarves nodded, Dharr said, "I think so. Once we get back into the mountains our stone sense should kick in again. I might be an exile, but my father is a reasonable man, and dwarves have been fighting the darkspawn for far longer than you surface people. I believe very strongly that he will do everything in his power to help us."

"Wait a minute," Eebon cut in, "Just who exactly is your father? Is he a lord?"

Roaran started chuckling uncontrollably. Dharr fixed the group with his cool, yet stone hard gaze and said, "I suppose this was bound to come out sooner or later, and now is as good a time as any." He took a deep breath and slowly released it. "My full name is Dharr Aeducan. Second son of Endrin Aeducan, King or Orzammar!"

Everyone looked at Dharr with jaws dropped, particularly Endrin, who asked, "Why would a dwarf king have an elven name?"

Roaran started laughing harder before Dharr could answer, "It's not an elven name, it's a dwarven name. I have been asking myself why your parents would saddle you with a dwarven name."

The Dalish and former prince continued to stare at each other a moment. Finally Dharr broke the silence. "Well, the origin of the name 'Endrin' isn't important. On to my tale." Dharr caught a glare from Roaran, "Excuse me… our tale. In fact, I think the Duster should be the one to start it off. After all, it would be impossible to tell my story without hearing his first."

Roaran cleared his throat, and touched a tattoo over his cheekbone, just under his right eye, it was curved like an 'S'. "Back in Orzammar, this is called a brand. It's given to all the casteless at birth to mark us as being worthless. To all dwarven castes, the casteless to not exist. We are lower than servants or even slaves, and comparable only to animals."

Kylae nodded knowingly, it sounded similar to the elven alienages across Ferelden, although from what Roaran was saying, the casteless had it worse. Her interest was already starting to rise.

"Casteless like me," Roaran continued, "Get very few choices in life. First, we can join the Legion of the Dead, which is more similar to the Grey Wardens than you might think. Second, we can turn to crime. It's more risky, but it also pays better, and it's the only way we can move up somewhat in life. Third, we can resort to begging… most beggars die of starvation. And finally, fourth, we can lay down and die. Anyone care to guess which door I took?"

"The second?" Kylae asked, grinning from ear to ear.

Roaran chuckled, "Good guess." His smile disappeared and Roaran groaned quietly. "The carta-erm, crime organization in Orzammar, at that time was run by a man named Beraht. Beraht was a real scum-sucker, cave tick, bronto's ass, whatever you want to call him, but he did have a plan, and he had coin. So one day, Beraht comes to my place and tells my sister, Rica, that she needs to step her 'performance'…" Roaran scowled, "You see, she was a noble hunter and-"

"Hey, hang on a second." Kylae interrupted, "What's a noble hunter?"

Dharr answered, "In recent years, the fertility in dwarven women seems to be declining. No one knows why, and since we are in a constant state of war with the darkspawn, our supply of good fighters is in decline. This has given rise to the noble hunters. Casteless women who sleep with men of higher castes in hopes of producing a male child."

"Why a male child?" Kylae asked.

"Because in dwarven society your caste is determined by your same-sex parent." Dharr answered, "And when that happens the mother's entire family is elevated as well."

Semi-horrified stares were the response from everyone. Even Kylae couldn't imagine selling herself out to a man in hopes of bearing his child

"Excuse me!" Roaran said, "Who's telling this story? You or me?"

Laughs sounded from around the camp.

Roaran continued. "So one day Beraht comes to my house and tells Rica she needs to step up her performance. Then he tells me that me and my best friend Leske, that one of his guys has been skimming funds. Me and Leske found him easily enough, and yes, he was skimming. Leske was all for slitting his throat and dumping him in a lava flow, but I was still angry over how Beraht had talked to me and Rica, so I told Leske we were letting him go.

"Convincing Beraht that we had killed him wasn't easy, but we pulled it off… I was surprised when Beraht had a second job for us in the same day. There was proving going on that day-that's a tournament, going on that day, and Beraht had a lot of money riding on a rookie named Everd, and he wanted us to drug Everd's competition. That's where things all started to go wrong."

"Are you kidding me!" Leske yelled, "This guy, Everd, is stone-cold drunk! You could put him up against a sodding nug and he'd still lose!"

On the floor, Everd muttered something in a drunken stupor.

"Hey!" Leske said, "I just had a sodding great idea!"

Roaran groaned. "I'm not going to like this am I?"

"Just hear me out… You're always telling me that with a weapon in your hand, you could beat the best the warrior caste has to offer. Well, here's your chance! Just put on Everd's armor, go out there and win big! Then we get paid!"

An evil grin spread across Roaran's face. "A casteless defeating the best the Warrior Caste has to offer?! Sounds good to me!"

A few hours later, Roaran had progressed to the final round. The Proving Master finished his introduction. Roaran's opponent yelled, "For the glory of the Paragons!"

"Get ready to taste dirt!" Roaran yelled back, and the casteless and warrior charged towards each other, only to come to screeching halt as Everd staggered into the arena.

"Heyyyyyy!" Everd yelled drunkenly, "That's my armor! What are you doing in it?!"

The Proving Master fumed, and shouted down into the arena, "Who are you! You dishonor this Proving and this arena!"

"Wait!" A warrior called out, Roaran recognized him as the first warrior he had defeated. "That man is Everd, I know him! So… who is it who defeated me!"

Now the Proving Master glared at Roaran. "Who are you?" He demanded, "Remove your helmet and reveal yourself!"

Roaran glimpsed multiple warriors coming into the arena with weapons drawn, he glimpsed Leske in the stands starting to make a run for it. Well… what else do I have to lose? Roaran asked himself, Might as well rub the warrior caste's face in it! Roaran reached up and pulled the helmet off his head, for the first time in his life, he proudly displayed the brand on his face. "I am Roaran Brosca!" He yelled as loud as he could manage. "I am casteless, and I have defeated the best you have to offer!"

The warriors quickened their pace as they closed in on him. Roaran clenched his stolen battleaxe, he wouldn't go down without a fight! Behind the advancing warriors, another dwarf leapt down from the stands and walked slowly and purposefully towards Roaran. This dwarf had dark hair, and an immaculately braided beard, thick black armor covered his entire body, save his head, the breastplate bearing the symbol of the House of Aeducan, even Roaran knew that symbol. "Stand down!" The dwarf yelled, but in their anger, the advancing warriors didn't hear him. "I said, stand down!" He yelled again, "I am Prince Dharr Aeducan. Get away from that man, or face me!"

Roaran stared with wide eyes at the approaching prince. He'd heard of Prince Dharr, there probably wasn't a single dwarf in Orzammar who hadn't heard of him. There were two things that Dharr was well known for, first, his skill with a war axe. So far, Dharr had never been defeated in battle, not in the Provings, and not in the Deep Roads against the darkspawn. Secondly, Dharr was known for thumbing his nose at tradition and shaking things up, much to the irritation of the nobles and assembly.

"If you want to avoid being thrown in jail and killed, come with me." Prince Dharr said to Roaran.

The warriors and hundreds of spectators erupted in outraged shouting. Dharr was joined by another dwarf, "My Lord," he said, "Are you sure this is a good move? He's casteless, and he's just disgraced the Proving, and the entire warrior caste!

Dharr didn't even slow as he stomped out of the arena, his placid expression unfazed by his doubting friend, nor by the infuriated dwarves. "Gorim," he answered, "This man, Roaran Brosca, has just bested some of the best warriors our city has to offer. And these days we need more people like him. I will not have him imprisoned, tortured, and killed just because he had the bad luck to be born casteless."

"Hey!" Roaran growled, "I'm not a sodding nug over here! Does someone want to tell me what is going on here?"

"Of course, forgive me Roaran." Dharr said, he saw the casteless dwarf flinch, he'd never been talked to in such a respectful way, and it was even more strange hearing it come from a prince. Dharr continued, "I have a proposition for you, although I think a meal and a few mugs of ale are in order first."

"Now you're talking my language!" Roaran said.

Roaran had never even seen the Diamond Quarter before, the rich part of the city where the nobles and wealthy lived. The view overlooked all of Orzammar, Roaran wondered if that was so the nobles could look down on everyone else, or so everyone else would have to look up at them. Roaran had growled at the thought, he hated the castes because of what they did to the casteless and how they treated his kind, he hated the nobles more than anyone else. Everything was clean up here, the street was cleaner than most of the plates he'd eaten off of.

As if going to the Diamond Quarter wasn't enough, Roaran now found himself in the Royal Palace. He had loved seeing the looks of surprise on everyone in the palace. The first servant that Dharr had seen, he ordered to have a cask of ale and dinner for himself, Roaran, and Gorim in his room.

Roaran asked about Dharr's proposition, but the prince had refused. Gorim had treated Roaran with nothing but disdain since the moment they first met, and refused to speak or even look at him. Roaran didn't care, he didn't expect anything else. And then the food and ale arrived and Roaran stopped talking and started eating. Both Prince Dharr and his Second, Gorim, stared with unbelieving eyes at Roaran, as the casteless consumed more than both of them combined, and drank nearly twice what they did.

After an hour of stuffing his gob, Roaran finally started to slow down his on his eating until he had all but stopped, and was only half-heartedly gnawing on a piece of meat from a surface creature he'd never heard of, and sipping from a large mug of dwarven ale. The cask of ale had probably cost more than Roaran had made in his entire life.

"So," Roaran said, while trying to pick something out of his teeth with a knife, "We've ate, we've drank… what's the proposition?"

Dharr took a sip of his own ale. "Like I mentioned before, we're being worn down by our constant war with the darkspawn. Our women are becoming less and less fertile. Whether we choose to admit it or not, our race is dying. My father is doing his best to restore some of our lost greatness, he has been organizing multiple invasions into the old thaigs. And as it turns out, in a only a few days, I will be promoted to Commander, and be put in charge of an army."

"Good for you." Roaran said, and spat out a chunk of gristle. "I'm still not hearing any proposition."

"You will address him as Prince Dharr, or Lord Aeducan… Remember your place, casteless!" Gorim snarled.

Roaran smirked. "Go and fall up into the sky, ya nug humping cave tick! I'm already casteless, what can you do to me!"

Gorim stepped forward with a fire burning in his eyes, a glare from Prince Dharr sent him back to his seat though.

"Take it easy Gorim." Dharr said, "You know I've never been one to stand on ceremony. But like I was saying, I've never seen anyone who could fight like you, and to have you wasting away in Dust Town is an utter waste. I want you in my army."

Roaran smirked again, "And you must be deaf Prince Lordship, because eight seconds ago I said I'm casteless. Don't you know that casteless can't join the army?"

"And may I remind you, Duster, that I am a prince? Trust me when I say that I could make it happen. If you are willing, the position is yours. You'll be part of my vanguard, and take orders only from me. Also, if you agree, I will do absolutely everything in my power to get your family elevated to Warrior Caste."

Roaran considered the deal for maybe all of two seconds. "If it gets me out of Dust Town, then sodding yes! I'm your man, Lordship! Just don't expect me go around boot licking and arse-kissing, like this guy here." He motioned towards Gorim.

"And that, is how I came to know, and work for, his Lordship here." Roaran finished his part of the story.

"Wait a minute!" Kylae said, "That can't be the end of your story? What about your old boss? I can't imagine he just let you go."

Roaran laughed, "You're right Kylae, he didn't. You might say that what happened next was something of an inciting incident. So by this time I've been working for Lordship for a couple weeks, my sister found herself a noble, and we even managed to get our mother moved out of Dust Town. I still wasn't part of the Warrior Caste, but every time Lordship brought it up to the assembly, it came closer to passing. We just needed something to really push the issue through.

"Being the helpful, axe wielding dwarf that I am, I suggested to Lordship that he sponsor a raid on the Carta. He agrees, and sends a couple dozen soldiers, with me in charge of them of course, and we invaded Beraht's little hideaway, killed most of his goons, made off with his stolen stashes, and here's the best part… I was the one to kill that bronto's ass!" Roaran laughed good and hard, "I'm tellin' ya… the look on his face as he was on his knees begging for his life and then he looks up to see my axe coming for his neck… priceless!"

Roaran finally stopped laughing and wiped the tears away from his eyes. "But anyway, that really is the end of my part of the story. I think his Lordship should take it from here."

The former prince cleared his throat. "Although I was not present for the raid on the carta, it was my people who led the charge, so credit for the raid was largely given to me. It brought about a huge change in Orzammar, for one thing, crime took a rather drastic plummet, and for another, the people started to speak about how perhaps I should be made king rather than my older brother, Trian.

"I never wanted to be king however. I would have thought that all those years, scoffing at tradition and angering the assembly and the nobles would have shown that. Regardless however, people talked. I don't know whether my father ever considered naming me as his successor or not. What happened next happened too soon."

Lord Pyral Harrowmont, top general and most trusted friend and advisor to King Endrin, pointed to a map spread out over a large stone. "Our armies have pushed the darkspawn back away from the main part of the thaig, but more are coming up out of their tunnels. For the time being, our troops are holding, although it looks like the Aeducan Thaig won't be won back today."

King Endrin nodded, and turned his attention to his sons, namely Dharr. "Dharr my son, your army has exceeded all expectations. What are you doing to train and motivate them so well?"

Dharr took the praise with the same cool-headedness that he seemed to take everything with. He only allowed himself a slight smile and dipped his head. "I treat them all as equal to myself, and ensure that they are promoted and rewarded on merit rather than which house they descend from."

"While I don't exactly approve of the way you constantly thumb your nose at our proud culture and traditions, I cannot deny that your methods produce results." The king responded. "Perhaps we should allow the lower castes and casteless to take up arms in defense of Orzammar… But that is a discussion for another time." King Endrin turned his gaze to his oldest son, "Trian, there is a minor passage here," he indicated on the map, "Take a small contingent of troops and flank the darkspawn, try and take some pressure off the main army."

"As you wish, father." Trian said, and turned to leave.

"Bhelen, the Legion of the Dead are here," he indicated the map again. "They're getting hit hard, and if their ranks brake, then the darkspawn will have another passage open allowing them to hammer our main force. Go and reinforce the Legion, make sure that doesn't happen."

"I obey." Prince Bhelen said and left quickly.

"Dharr, like Lord Harrowmont said, we have pushed the main darkspawn force away from the thaig itself. I need you to take your best troops and enter the thaig. Supposedly, the shield that the Paragon Aeducan carried in battle to defend Orzammar is in there. I need you to find it as quickly as possible, and rendezvous back with us… here." He pointed at the map again.

"I will do it, father." Dharr said, and turned to leave. "Gorim, Roaran, you two are with me. Frandlin Ivo, you're coming as well. Let's move."

The four dwarves quickly made their way into the abandoned ruins of the once proud thaig. They encountered only light resistance from the darkspawn, and between Dharr and his three best warriors, the darkspawn didn't stand a chance. Finding the shield was a bit more complicated however, but the determined dwarves still managed to recover it before Roaran lost his legendarily short patience and started cursing the stupidity of their mission.

"So that's it?" Roaran said as Dharr pulled the shield from its centuries old resting place. "I've seen much better shields before. King Endrin sent his best fighters to recover this?"

Dharr was holding the shield and looking at it almost reverently, like most dwarven shields, it was a round targe, large enough to cover most of dwarf's body if used correctly. The face had been badly scarred by numerous darkspawn blades and claws, but the symbol of Aeducan was still clearly visible. "It's true. Our craftsmanship has vastly improved since the time of its forging, the shield is not wanted for its value as a shield per say, it is important because it is a symbol of our people's strength, and how we will endure for all time!"

Roaran continued to stare at the shield with an annoyed expression. "Lordship… it's a shield."

Both Gorim and Frandlin looked at Roaran with a renewed loathing. Dharr on the other hand found it amusing. "It doesn't matter." He said, "We have what we came for. Let's get out of here and meet up with the others." Dharr put the Shield of Aeducan across his back and once more took up his own targe and war axe. "Roaran, take the lead. Frandlin, watch our backs. Let's go!"

The four dwarves encountered darkspawn only once on the return journey, two genlocks each with twin daggers tried to block their path. Roaran's massive axe cut them down before any of the other three dwarves could move to engage them.

To say Dharr was impressed with Roaran's skill would have been a vast understatement. Even the most skilled warriors would usually freeze or panic when they saw darkspawn for the first time. Several weeks ago, when Roaran saw them for the first time, he had glared at them hatefully, spat, and then rushed to introduce them to his axe. Dharr had asked Roaran once who had taught him to fight, as the casteless were not allowed to even own weapons. Roaran had shrugged and said, No one taught me. I just pick up a weapon and start swinging it.

"Well, this is the rendezvous point." Dharr said, "I wonder what's keeping the others."

"Darkspawn mostly likely." Roaran stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Dharr chuckled, "Astute as always."

"What did you just sodding call me?"

Dharr laughed harder. "Astute… it means observant."

"So why didn't you just say observant?"

Before Dharr could come up with a retort, Gorim called in a panic. "My Lord! Over here!"

Dharr, Roaran, and Frandlin all ran to see what Gorim had found. Propped against the stone wall, a dagger protruding from under his arm where his armor was weakest, was Trian, his blonde beard stained from the blood that poured from his mouth.

"Trian!" Dharr yelled and knelt by his brother, delicately taking his head in his own hands. "I'm here, my brother! Who did this to you? Tell me, and I will make them pay, I swear it!"

Prince Trian's eyes came into focus. He opened his mouth, and more blood poured out with each sound that managed to escape his lips. "B… B… Brother." Trian's eyes glazed over, and his breath came out slowly in a soft deflating sound. He did not inhale again.

"My Lord!" Gorim said, "That is your dagger buried in your brother!"

Dharr looked closer at the weapon and immediately recognized it as indeed being his own. "We are betrayed!" He said angrily. "Someone stole my dagger and used to kill my brother!" Footsteps from down the passageway sounded. Dharr leapt to his feet. "To arms my warriors!" He yelled, and his troops instantly prepared their weapons.

Those same weapons were lowered when the four dwarves saw that it was King Endrin, Bhelen, Harrowmont, and their entourage of generals and other officers. "Come quickly, father!" Bhelen was saying excitedly, "It might not be too late!"

Now it all made sense to Dharr. At first, he had thought that Trian had choked out the word 'brother', as a final farewell. But now he realized that Trian had in fact been trying to name his killer. In a fit of rage, Dharr tore off his helmet and threw it away, then taking his axe up again, he stomped towards Bhelen and roared, "Murderer! You killed our own brother!" Dharr's axe surely would have been introduced to Bhelen's face, but both Gorim and Frandlin grabbed their commander and pulled him back.

King Endrin's helmet clattered to the ground, followed by his armored gloves, he approached his fallen son Trian and pulled his limp dead body to his own in a final embrace. Then he let go and slowly stood up, pain and loss etched into his face. He walked to where Dharr was still being restrained. "Let him go." Endrin said quietly. "Dharr… my son. Look me in the eye and tell me that you did not do this thing."

Dharr met his father's gaze. "Father. I did not kill Trian."

"He's lying!" Bhelen screamed. "He's lying father! I told you before that I overheard Dharr last night speaking with his two lackeys of how he planned to kill Trian in hopes of being named your successor!"

"And people call me without honor." Roaran muttered.

"Silence, brand!" King Endrin ordered, then looked to Gorim and Frandlin Ivo. "You, Gorim. What did you see?"

Gorim struggled to keep his voice even as he said, "We had just reached the meeting point here. My Lord Aeducan was wondering where everyone else was, and then I found Prince Trian against the wall just as he is now. My Lord went to him and tried to save him, but Prince Trian was too far gone already. That is when you came my king."

"Lies!" Bhelen roared. "He would say anything to defend his master! I would not be surprised if it was Gorim himself who stabbed Trian!"

"Silence, Bhelen!" The king yelled back with equal volume. "Frandlin Ivo, you are a highly honored warrior, your word is trusted. Is it as Gorim tells it?"

Frandlin sighed sadly and shook his head. "No my king. Prince Trian still lived when we arrived here. Prince Dharr went to him as if to greet him, then stabbed him under the arm… The dagger is still there, Majesty."

King Endrin looked again at the body of Trian, he recognized the dagger. Endrin's sad eyes returned to Dharr. "Why have you done this? Why have you betrayed me?"

Dharr's eyes clouded with tears. "Father, I did no such thing. I could never… never betray you! On my life, on my honor, on my very blood, and with the Stone and the ancestors as my witnesses, I did not do this thing! Father, it was Bhelen."

Silence reigned. For how long no one could say, but finally the king spoke again. "Guards… take Dharr, the casteless, and Gorim into custody." Endrin turned and began to make his long journey back to Orzammar.

"Wait!" Dharr called. "Father, my king, wait!" The old king stopped and turned look for the last time at his son. Dharr knelt and slid the Shield of Aeducan off his back. "Father. I have done as you asked." He held the shield out with both hands, face up. "I give you the Shield of Aeducan."

Endrin accepted the shield and left again for Orzammar, he didn't speak a word. For Dharr, the silence was more painful than anything else.

No one said a word. To be betrayed by one's own brother was something that none of them could imagine. Alistair was the first to speak. "So, how did you both end up at Ostagar?"

Dharr answered. "The three of us were all put in the dungeon to wait for our sentence. Bhelen had been trying to convince the assembly to have us executed, Harrowmont however managed to convince them to only have us exiled instead. Gorim was sent to the surface, I have no idea where he is now. I was sent into the Deep Roads to die fighting the darkspawn alone. Duster was likewise sent to the surface, but he demanded to be sent to the Deep Roads along with me. The Grey Wardens had come to Orzammar looking for recruits only a few days before that, and that's how I knew you would be at Ostagar.

"I never would have even made it to the surface without Duster. I don't even know how many times he saved my life, I stopped counting after five."

"Twelve times." Roaran said.

"But anyway… against all odds, the two of us fought our way to the surface. After that we found a human settlement and found out that there was a convoy headed to Ostagar that very day. And that's how we became Grey Wardens."