Chapter Eight: Inquiries

Taking the time to explain what we had found out took a long time, and was more than a little risky.

Tam, being herself, did not take our word entirely for anything we said. Or maybe she just wanted to participate. At any rate, Julie was forced to read out some of the captions from the picture book to prove she could understand the Latin alphabet. After each reading, the Qunari would turn to me for confirmation, and I would give it. I can't deny that I enjoyed sitting and watching it. They proceeded through about half the book before everyone was satisfied. It was strangely comforting, seeing someone read something that I myself could. Made me feel a little less homesick.

The next thing was less pleasant. Tam demanded that Armen shoot some lightning at me to prove the concept that I was near-entirely resistant to magic. So I found myself stood up against the cliff, as if a man facing a firing squad, while the mage stood twenty or thirty yards away. Sure enough, when his staff spun a web of lightning at me, the electricity had no effect. It didn't even touch my body or equipment, in fact. With the demonstration over, Tam accepted it after a moment. She came over and pinched me a little, as if trying to make sure the lightning didn't have some internal effect. Getting too close as usual in the process. I got the impression it was a little more than scientific concern.

With those matters settled, the Qunari soon got to skinning her kills without fanfare. The others went off to find more firewood, as we had enough to warm ourselves but nowhere near enough to cook something the size of a deer. I was somewhat fearful that Julie would run into trouble out there, even with Armen, as fists against dragonlings wouldn't really cut it. I really need not have bothered myself. Regardless, I got on with the task of preparing our little camp for the night with some trepidation.


Dinner was extremely eventful indeed.

First of all, I managed to get the electrical machinery and lights working, so we had no reason to fear the sun setting. The principle is exactly the same as my flashlight but on a larger scale, so the flickering orange flames of the cooking fire were joined by the white beams associated with the alchemy of my world. I was very pleased with my handiwork. Any animal that wandered across our path would have been scared off by the unnatural luminescence, and any people that came along would hopefully think we were extremely powerful mages and take the better part of valour. The batteries wouldn't last forever, but I didn't plan on sticking around. My other companions took the new technology in their stride. Two had already seen something similar, and Armen was Armen, an elf far more inclined towards curiosity than surprise when encountering a new phenomenon. Most of the other functions, like radio communication, were down.

Tam grilled the animals, which all the others agreed were called halla. The Qunari hummed happily as she did so, catching some of the juices in a bowl as they dripped off and turning the meat on a wooden spit that she had fashioned. Watching her do this was an utterly surreal experience. It reminded me of my mother, whom also liked to hum when she cooked. Though she wasn't over six feet high, muscular or curvy..

I had previously pegged Tam squarely as some sort of assassin. After all, her bow and dagger were at her side at all times, and she was no amateur at using them. Not to mention her nation's obvious need for such people. But at that moment, she sang to herself and attended to the food, and I doubted my assessment. Julie seemed surprised that the Qunari sang at all, and inquired what song it was. Tam replied simply that "it was a cooking song." Nothing is used frivolously under the Qun, not even music, apparently.

Julie had found a book to read, and stuck to it as she sat in my seat in the helicopter. I didn't see which one she had selected at the time, but I guarantee that given the questions she would ask later, it was the work of Rousseau or Thomas Paine. Heavy stuff in more ways than just difficulty of reading. For the moment however, she interchanged her attention between the pages and the sky, mumbling words to herself like she was trying to figure something out. A couple of times an hour, she consulted a history book. She seemed very happy, so I was quite content to leave her to it.

As we neared the time to eat, I called Armen over to help me with the sleeping bags. The scratchy, thin blankets we had stolen from the prison seemed extremely inadequate for anything other than covering the ground. We had more than half a dozen of the sleeping bags from my world, which were extremely comfortable and could even double as a hammock with the right fiddling. Armen and I took two a piece, and began laying them out. Wherein we found another, more pleasant surprise.

The rolled up bags had things stuck into the middle of them. An assortment of gifts from the gods. I had missed them entirely, not thinking to look there when I had searched for useful things days earlier.

"What is all this?" asked Armen, as he unrolled one himself, "Is this alcohol?"

"It most certainly is!" I declared, snatching up a bottle, "Not bad stuff either. Fraser must be in hell though... a Scot drinking Tennessee whiskey? No way he's in paradise." I unscrewed the top on the container of warm orange liquid and smelt it, recoiling from the familiar aroma with a laugh. It was a good thing I hadn't discovered the booze before my capture by Goldie, or I would have drank myself to death. I certainly wouldn't have been coherent enough to give a false identity and probably would have ended up with several swords through my face. No matter, I intended to thoroughly enjoy myself.

Armen held up a drink himself, a clear liquid in a fogged glass bottle.

"If that is whiskey, what is this?" he asked, attempting to open the top himself.

"The water of life; Vodka," I said, "Unfortunately, that particular brand is French."

"French?" inquired the elf, smiling now, "Is that a bad thing?"

"You would call it Orlesian," I replied, "And for vodka, yes, it is bad. Wine or cognac, it's a different story."

"Intriguing," Armen muttered. He poured himself a small measure into a metal cup, and in proper form, drank it back in a single gulp. I was surprised at his enthusiasm, but it sent him coughing and my fine self laughing loudly. He held his drink well though, and poured himself another measure with a grin.

There were several large bottles of pretty hard liquor wrapped up in the other sleeping bags, along with other leisure items, which will become obvious soon enough. I passed my own cup over to Armen to fill, and we knocked them together before downing the vodka. The alcohol burned my mouth, throat and stomach, but I felt immensely uplifted for it.

"Why were the bottles wrapped up in sleeping bags?" Armen asked, as he poured our next round. He held the cup out to me, and I took it, determined to drink this one a little more slowly.

"The religion of the country we were in prohibited alcohol," I explained, "But soldiers always find a way."

"A strange rule," Tam said from behind me, "May I?"

I tapped my hand on the sleeping bag beside, and Tam lay down on it. I handed her my drink, and she copied Armen's glorious example, gulping it down at once. She exhaled sharply as she put the empty vessel down, and blinked rapidly for a second. I was very curious as to her verdict.

"Strong, tastes bad, but is easy to drink," she said finally, eyeing her cup, "Why would anyone make such a drink?"

"To get drunk, of course," I said, "Besides, most people mix it with fruit juice or sodas." Though you wouldn't catch me doing that to anything of the quality we had on hand that night. In fact, doing so in front of me would have earned a rebuke.

"How is being drunk a useful thing?" asked Tam, innocently enough. I was completely exasperated by the question, to be honest, unable to even begin to answer it. I couldn't tell if she was pulling my leg or if she was actually serious. I still don't know, having seen a Qunari Ben-Hassrath drink like a fish and others remain entirely teetotal. Their rules are confusing, and I am not about to ask them a question on the subject. I was so caught up in the question that I had failed to hear the tapping of boots on the metal ramp nearby.

"Because it's fun," interrupted Julie, stomping down to join the fun, "You ignore the little details and do what you feel." She sat down close beside, and elbowed me to move over on the sleeping bag. I elbowed her back, then complied. The urge to do a lot more than that swept over me, but I thought better of it. Thankfully.

"And then you throw up," Armen chimed in, taking another sup of vodka.

"Hey, ease up," I said, "We should eat before drinking anymore."

"Not a bad idea," said Julie, supporting me, "Speaking of which, is dinner ready?" She turned a ravenous look at Tam.

The Qunari smiled, not with the daggers-at-dawn one but with a smaller, softer counterpart. Like someone trying to quiet a funny request from a child. It was at once both strange and amusing to see. Tam got up and went back to the fire, as the hungry one got comfortable, happy and unaware of the comparison that had been made in subtle terms.

Julie nudged me, and nodded at the cup. I picked it up and put a shot's worth into it, before handing it to her. I watched closely, as she brought the drink to her lips and swallowed it down. She seemed unaffected by it, licking her lips and then glancing at me. I tilted my head, all respect to her. She could handle her drink too, evidently.

"Good?" I asked.

"Very," she replied, "Though I'll definitely need to eat before having more."

I laughed, and nodded. I already felt the warmth in my veins from what I had drank thus far, any more and I would have been nicely sloshed. Another new experience, getting tipsy on another world. More likely, another universe. Going where no man has gone before, or so I thought. One small sip for a man, one giant chug for humankind. At that moment, such heavy thoughts were nowhere in my head, pushed aside by catching glances at Julie as she did the same to me. Damn it, now I feel old. On with the story.

Tam's cooking turned out to be excellent, though given the care she had taken with it, I had expected as much. The halla 'venison' was stringy and tough, but positively bursting with flavour. Far better than the meat from the rations too. It was not like deer from Earth in terms of the taste, it was more like pork. Needless to say, it became one of my favourite treats. Which put me in trouble once or twice, as going out and shooting a halla is actually laden with troubles to the uninitiated. Just not to Tam.

As with lunch, the others were very full at the end. They lay on their sleeping bags, having moved the secreted contents inside onto the blankets. I was full too, though much more mobile than the others, as I had finally eaten an amount people from back home would recognise as a full meal. So we sat about, drinking. Not very productive, I know, but three of us were celebrating our freedom, so stick your objections where the sun doesn't shine. As we lay about, I dragged the new discoveries over to me and sorted through them. Eleven bottles of liquor were among the most welcome additions to my seemingly endless array of otherworld items. Other things attracted the attention of Tam, however.

The Qunari raked through the random mix, before picking up a chain of colourful wrappers. I almost lost myself immediately from the shock. Apparently someone in Fraser's squad thought he was a real ladies' man, as there was no way one person should have had that many. Tam was now inspecting them with a raised eyebrow. I quickly looked away, having no desire to answer the inevitable question or deal with the outcome if she decided to open one of the wrappers. It's not that I was squeamish about the subject, it's just that explaining the concept would require a few more drinks than I had downed at this point.

"What are these?" Tam asked, shaking the plastic in the air.

The others turned to look, wondering for themselves, as I concentrated on a stone in the opposite direction. I am sure I must have looked like I was having a seizure, trying to suppress my laughing as best I could.

"Rip one open and see," suggested Armen suddenly. I froze dead, before turning around.

"Wait, don't!" I shouted, holding out my hand, "Give it here." The aftermath would have been unpleasant. Couldn't have us smelling like the contents until we found another river or something.

I was just in time. Tam held the first wrapper in her hands, ready to tear it. She took her hand away, and I took the whole chain of the things from her. Unfortunately, this meant that suspicion and curiosity now shifted to me instead, and the question of why I would ask this way was written on all of the faces present. The fucking huge grin on my face probably didn't help matters. I geared myself for it to be spoken.

"So, what are they?" Julie asked, narrowing her eyes, "They must be dangerous, if you're reacting like that." Yes, extremely dangerous in ways you can't imagine, I thought. That wasn't really true though, I just didn't know if the concept would get me burned under the religious rules of where I was at the time. As I couldn't think of any other way to put it, I just came out and said it.

"They're for sex," I said bluntly. The others drew back a little in surprise.

"Really?" asked Armen, his eyebrow disappearing upwards into the black mop of his hair. I swear, it migrated for a moment. The reaction of the others was slightly less reserved.

"What do you mean?" Julie said, confused, "How do they help?" Understandable, given that the things weren't actually unravelled yet.

"Show us!" said Tam pointing, clearly regretting that she had handed them over to me now.

I groaned. Explaining the purpose and function of a contraceptive was not how I thought I'd be spending the aftermath of dinner. I grabbed the bottle of vodka, and began pouring myself a cup. The others held out their own, shaking them to get my attention. I complied, and soon, they were all sipping at the stuff. I prepared myself, taking a drink, and answered.

"They stop people getting pregnant," I said quickly, "Or spreading disease. Most of the time."

The others stared at the wrappers, seemingly intrigued. Julie and Tam glanced at each other, eyes widened a little. Considering that men don't have to give birth, I have discovered that the great majority of interest in such things over the years has come from women. My expectations were defied on that count.

Sexual revolution was not on my agenda, I assure you. Though I have no doubt, given what has happened, that the Chantry would gladly dig up my bones and dump them into the Waking Sea. Hopefully they'll be well hidden from the zealot faction. I felt the conversation tedious at the time, not thinking of the potential effects in the slightest. I think I can safely saying that I prefer doing to talking anyway, where this subject is concerned. Talking usually comes with too much nonsense and superstition.

Armen was the first to respond.

"If your world has no magic, such things would be necessary," he thought aloud, "In the Circles, magic was developed long ago to prevent... that from happening." Of course that would be the first thought that came to him. The Circles were utterly barbaric to a fault, in my opinion, not least because of their wanton destruction of families. It turns out that most didn't even try and start families, for fear of them being torn apart by the rules. I had a small inkling of it from my first meeting with Armen, but the full extent of that destruction was only revealed to me later.

"How do they work?" Julie asked, just when I was mid-drink.

I spluttered, coughing my vodka back up. My eyes watered, as I struggled for breath. The drink had gone down the wrong way. What a question.

As I recovered, I wanted to explain, but it seemed embarrassing beyond belief. Somewhat like trying to explain the facts of life to a child who is really too young to understand. Considering Julie was a grown woman only a few years younger than me at most, this was probably an insulting attitude to take, but the thought occurred to me that simply explaining wouldn't suffice. Especially for her. So I did the next best thing.

I ripped one of the wrappers off from the others, and threw it to Tam.

"Open it from the edge," I said, "Carefully, it's not dry."

The Qunari opened it, ripping the cover off, and revealed the contents. Unperturbed by the liquid coating it, she unravelled the item. The look of confusion on her face was priceless as she held it up. The shape was... unmistakeable.

"It looks like a..." Tam began.

"Yes, it does," I interrupted.

"Ah, so it must go on your..." Julie added, sounding like she was having a eureka moment.

"YES," I said loudly over her, "That's exactly where it goes."

A lot of humming and hawing superseded any further conversation on the subject. I threw Tam a cleaning cloth from a ration pack, and polished off the last of my drink. At least they weren't asking for a more practical demonstration. Evidently, there were no virgins in the group, thank the gods. We didn't have any bananas on hand anyway. Still don't know if they exist here, actually.

Cringeworthy stuff.

"Your world is a strange place," declared Armen, after due consideration.

"Trust me, it's yours that is strange," I replied, tempted to grant him a backhand across the face.


After dinner, we dug through the other items that had been hidden again.

Among them was a music player, a device capable of remembering thousands of songs and playing them back at command. Somewhat like a record player, but far more complicated. Putting aside how it works, as this is not a technical manual, I managed to get it hooked up to some equipment in the helicopter. There was more than enough power for it to work. The music played loudly, as if we were in a tavern. I bet tavern players everywhere curse my name in private, even the ones who sing songs about what they think is my life. Technology often pushes some people out of work, though I always found live music to be superior.

So I watched my first sunset in Thedas to the sounds of Earth.

Don McLean's American Pie, to be exact. I was surprised to find the song was on the player, most of them were unfamiliar to me. Thankfully there were also plenty of others that weren't. I should have seen other sunsets before this, but had spent them trussed up first in a covered wagon and then in a prison instead. So I was quite pleased with myself to say the least. I was convinced I would be going home soon, and that I had made good progress towards that end. Magic be damned.

The reaction of my companions to this was not speechless amazement, funnily enough. They had become as jaded to revelations about my world as I had to the same of theirs. Or maybe it was just the freeflowing alcohol. We'll never know.

"What is this song about?" said Julie, leaning on me as the song continued into its second chorus.

"I have no idea," I replied.

"The music of your country is very complex," said Tam, "What purpose does it have?"

"Purpose?" I said, not taking her meaning fully, "We use it to relax, mostly. Sometimes tell stories. You don't have music where you're from?"

"Under the Qun, music is played and songs sung to encourage people during practical activities," Tam replied, "So, when soldiers march, they'll sing a marching song or a band will play one. Communal cooks will sing a cooking song together. Farmers ploughing a field will sing a field song. We determined long ago that such a thing helps people work harder and feel better about doing it."

I couldn't argue with that. The evaluation was dead right. Music could make you work harder. Though I thought it a bit stale for an entire society to enjoy it only as accompaniment to hard slogging. Which brought me to a question.

"Do your people not relax?" I asked, "You know, use time off work for their own leisure."

"They rest," confirmed Tam, "But there is no time for leisure. People might starve, or be attacked, or stray from the Qun, and such things require wasting resources that the Qunari aren't pleased to waste."

"Soul-crushing," Julie replied, punctuating her sentence with a swig, "How does anyone stand it?"

"Most are born into it," said Tam softly, "The converts are mostly freed slaves looking for any way out of their misery, so they accept it with open arms. The rest face being turned into a mindless drone by the elder tamassrans, becoming mentally incapable of rebellion or independent thought."

"That sounds fucking horrible," I said, my blood getting up a little, "Unspeakably evil."

"I agree," Tam replied. She drank from her cup, and did not elaborate on it. Which frustrated me a little. She seemed to be remembering something, staring at the fire as it flickered and burned.

An idea occurred to me. I didn't know very much at all about the background of the people I was travelling with. I knew they were good people at the very least, my instincts being razor sharp with regard to that. But that wasn't really enough. I had to know more.


How best to get them talking about themselves was a moment of genius on my part. One that continues today as a national tradition, to my immense pride. There's even a book of etiquette for it, though who knows who wrote it. I often suspect it was Armen's work, as he was always scribbling something anonymously. It would be hilarious if true.

"I really don't know enough about any of you," I said, "We have good music, drink, some free time. Let's play a game, to get to know each other a little better."

"Sounds good to me," Julie said, with a stretch which I enjoyed thoroughly.

Tam remained silent, but didn't object either. To be honest, I thought that she would, so I was pleasantly surprised. But she wasn't the person I thought would believe it to be a bad idea.

"We don't know anything about you either," said Armen, "Why should I let you interrogate me?" The elf had secrets, no doubt, but it wasn't my intention to pry into them. Too much. I had a plan for just such an objection.

"Aha, I thought you'd say that," I said with a smile, "So we'll do it like this. One of us will take questions from the others. He or she can either answer them, or drink. Anyone who asks a question out of turn that isn't directly about the main question, also drinks. That way, I get to learn what not to ask as well as getting to know you. When all of the others have asked their question, then another gets asked. How about it?"

Armen tilted his head back, watching the sky as he thought. He mumbled to himself. I nudged Julie, and indicated with my head. I wanted her support. She got the picture.

"Ah, go on Armen, it'll be fun," she said, her Orlesian tones raised in jest, "You don't have to say anything you don't want to!"

I thought it would help to have someone other than the crazy guy from another world encourage him, but it was to no avail. Armen continued what he was doing, working out something in his head that his lips were only half playing out. I was ready to give up, when Tam spoke.

"Though I personally think he should be questioned as to his intentions," said Tam, "Intimately."

I winced in horror. Tam's distrust of mages was nothing to be trifled with. I feared it was equivalent to the same sort of crap that Armen had to put up with under the Circle. It was, in fact, but that wasn't what he focused on as he returned his gaze to us.

"I'll gladly be intimate with you, if you're gentle!" Armen laughed, "You're a looker, it's undeniable, but I'm not that robust." It was Tam's turn to wince, as the elf chuckled at her discomfort. Hey, you didn't get my memo from before. She is deadly with a dagger. Extremely deadly. I really did wonder if the man was sane. Julie laughed with him, not noticing the Qunari's annoyed expression.

"I hope your good mood means that you'll be participating," I said, stepping in to prevent bloodshed.

"On one condition," Armen replied, "You're going first."

"Done," I said without hesitation, "Here, fill up your drinks."

I held the bottle out and doled out a very generous amount to each of them. I also turned off the music to save power, not knowing if I'd ever be able to recharge the batteries and wanting to keep the lights on as long as possible. I held back on refilling my own cup for the moment, as I had no intention of withholding an answer. Otherwise, I might be too drunk to ask the questions I wanted answers to myself. Besides, I felt I could trust the others not to go yapping about my secrets.

"Okay, so who has the first question?" I asked.

Tam held up her hand. I nodded, knowing she had hers already picked out.

"You say you are not a soldier, but you have weapons and you carry yourself like a warrior," she said, "What are you if not a soldier?"

I had to think about the answer for a minute, as some terms might not be familiar to the audience. And the job was fairly ambiguous in its own right.

"I'm a peacekeeper," I said, "Soldiers fight for countries, peacekeepers serve both their countries and the United Nations, my world's community of nations. We enforce truces and peace agreements, enforce the laws of war, and defend common folk in warzones. Peacekeepers are soldiers, but we're also … nightwatchmen, builders, teachers, smiths, administrators. We take care of everything a country should do, when one can't anymore because of war. The damage wars cause can last for decades, so something has to be done about it. "

"But you still fight?" asked Armen.

"We have very strict rules on when we're allowed to fight," I replied, not mentioning that the rules often put us in harm's way unnecessarily, "But yes, we do face combat."

"So you're like a Grey Warden?" asked Julie, "Defending people from the worst things?"

"I guess so," I said, not sure what a Grey Warden was, "There is no magic in my world, not like here anyway, so the worst you have to fear is some nutjob terrorist wanting to kill you because you believe something different or because you come from somewhere else."

"Sounds like a difficult job," Armen said.

"It is, but someone has to do it or else civilisation crumbles," I replied, not wanting to get into too much detail, "You want to ask the next question?"

"Mine is related to the one that has already been asked," Armen said, diving right in, "I don't understand your reasons for not allowing me to bring the knowledge about your weapons back to the rebellion. You said our cause was just and its your job to help people in a war, but you won't help us. Why?"

I sighed loudly. I was unprepared for that question. And I knew that answer would inevitably make me sound like a condescending prick. Still, the mage deserved a response, so I gave him one.

"Short answer is that I don't give you the guns because it would get a whole load of people killed that didn't need to be," I said.

"The Templars imprisoned us for centuries," he said, "Are we not entitled to defend ourselves?"

"That's not the problem," I said, "I presume when your armies fight, you line up nice and neat, then charge at each other after shooting arrows and magic, right? Maybe your nobles duel it out sometimes?"

"Yes, most armies fight like that," answered Tam, "Though only the Qunari maintain discipline for long enough to keep in line for battle."

"Right, so imagine armies lining up, except now one side have weapons like mine," I said, "It would be a slaughter. Survivors would go and try to figure out the weapons, and eventually, you'd have two or more factions with them. More slaughter. Entire wars would be fought on the basis of dumb ass nobles thinking they had a great advantage. Yet more slaughter. That's what happened in my world."

I took a breath. I was losing my cool.

"All the while, no one has any idea about how to use tactics worthy of the name, maximising the number of casualties in combat. I doubt that medicine or logistics are worth shit here either, so people will die of injuries and hunger they could avoided too. Bottom line, your societies and militaries are too primitive to hand weapons over like they're toys. I would be committing a crime if I gave them over."

I finished my rant, and drank deeply from my cup. The question pissed me off a little.

"He has a point about the weapons," Tam said, "The Qunari invaded the mainland of Thedas not only because we felt we were duty bound to spread the Qun, but also because our gaatlok devices were so much more powerful. If Tevinter or Orlais had the knowledge, it would lead to more wars. They'd try to conquer their neighbours."

Armen looked unhappy, which made me feel a little guilty. He wasn't wrong about his people being downtrodden. I would have done almost anything to help him out. But arming the mages would be starting a global arms race was step one to a world war I wanted no part in. I determined to do my utmost otherwise.

"I'm sorry for asking," said the mage.

"Listen, when we get settled, we'll figure something else out," I replied, "There has to be other ways I can help other than fighting the war for you. I promise I will do something that will save some of your people." By which I meant I would put in a report to my superiors, maybe take some refugees with me. Which wasn't what happened.

He perked up a little at the promise though. "I hope so," he said.

I felt we needed a breath of air before continuing. The fire was beginning to die, so I got up. I stumbled a bit, buzzing off the alcohol, I managed to get away clean to dump more wood onto the embers for Armen to ignite.

I sat down again, poured another round, and turned to Julie. It was her turn.

"Right, my turn," she said, as if to confirm it, "Do you have any family and friends back home that are missing you?"

"Good question," I smiled, "I have my parents, obviously. They should be both still alive. They have probably been told that I'm missing by now, so I hope they're not doing too badly. They always knew it was a risk, with my job. Apart from them, I have an older brother and sister, and six nephews and nieces."

"Do they do what you do?" Julie asked.

"God, no. My brother, Kevin, he's a banker. Very boring job in my opinion, but a lot of money in it. Which is probably how he can afford to have five kids. He got married young... well, young for our country, anyway." I had assumed correctly that people got married a lot younger in Thedas. Which is less true than it was, but still. I continued.

"As for my sister, Catherine, she's a merchant of sorts. Sells devices that turn sunlight and heat into electricity to power convenient things like the lights we have here or water-heating devices. Her daughter is called Sam too, so obviously that's my favourite niece." Little Sam was the most feisty out of the lot, which only added to my affection for her. I, obviously, am Big Sam. My companions seem entrapped by my story, for their own reasons that I couldn't fathom.

Thinking about it now as I write, I wonder how my siblings and their children are doing. It's been so long, that my siblings are probably grandparents or great-grandparents by now. I'm sure that if Earth didn't tear itself apart with wars, that they're doing fine in their own way. My parents are of course certainly dead. Of course, back then, I thought I would be seeing them within weeks or months, tops. Which made the next question hit hard.

"Aren't you afraid that you won't see them again?" Armen asked, "This doesn't count as another question, by the way."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes it does. Drink!" I said, "As for the answer, we don't leave people behind in warzones. They'll figure out what happened. I am sure someone will come for me." I wasn't sure at all, but a helicopter simply dropping off the face of the Earth without a trace didn't happen much. At least, not when flying over land. Armen drank his cup dry, and I handed him the bottle to refill it. Rules are rules.

"Do you not have children of your own?" Tam asked, "You seem healthy, capable, but you're older than the age when most start breeding." Breeding, she said. What am I, a horse?

"Hey, I'm still in my twenties!" Just barely, at that point. Thirty was approaching rapidly by the month, less than half a year away. Plenty of time left for child-making, at least to an Earthling. Not so much to a Thedosian of that era.

"Most commoners start having children when they're fifteen or sixteen, give or take," Armen explained, "Without the intervention of magical healing, most die before reaching their fifth year too."

"Maker forbid you don't take the first offer of marriage thrown at you either," Julie threw in, before drinking deeply, "The men start thinking you're mistress material, and the women think you're a whore."

"Orlais," muttered Tam, "How does it survive..."

"No, I don't have children," I replied at last, over the next response from Armen, "We have children later because our lives are longer. We don't rely on magic to heal us or cure disease. We have medicine instead, created by science."

"Do you know anything about these medicines?" Armen asked.

"Not a clue," I replied, "Don't think any of the books have anything about them either." Which didn't turn out to be a great burden, as the scientific method did come through. I half-remember a metaphor, something about teaching fishermen, but I forget the details now. Either way, it was probably easier to do what we did, than to try and copy pharmaceutical knowledge from my world.

My turn came to an end, and we decided to go to the person to the right. So it was Julie's turn to answer or drink.

I had to go first, because I had a burning question in my head about something, much like how Tam had one for me. Well, I had several burning questions in actuality, but most of them weren't suitable for a public questionnaire, far more properly asked in the bedchamber. Of the seven deadly sins, Lust is definitely on my list. Good thing I'm immune to Fade crap, or I would have fallen to a desire demon long ago. I asked Julie as she leaned her head on my shoulder, listening with interest.

"What do you do for a living?" I asked.

"You don't know?" she replied in surprise, "I thought you would have guessed by now."

"That's not an answer," I replied coyly, tapping the top of her cup lightly as a warning of what would come. She swatted away my hand, and drank a little, taking her punishment for violating the law of the campfire.

"I'm surprised you asked as well," Tam added, "Isn't it obvious?"

Beginning to get a feeling that I was out of some loop, I looked at Armen and raised my eyebrows. He shook his head and shrugged, seemingly as clueless as I was. I had thought the mage would know more, but apparently being locked in a tower for most of your life doesn't give you much insight into the working person.

Julie stood up, wobbling a little from the drink, and raised her cup in mock salutation.

"I, good ser, am a blacksmith!" she declared proudly, before downing the rest of her drink. Eyes turned to me for a reaction, but mine kept on hers. I couldn't make out what she was thinking.

I knew she was a tradesperson of some kind. Her hands were not as rough as mine but not soft, she had a toolbelt, and she seemed to be well-fed compared to what I thought of as a peasant. Far better teeth too. I remembered the dirt that was on her face originally, when we had first met. It was actually soot, not mud.

"Ahhh," I said in realisation of the latter fact, "That explains a lot."

Julie plonked down beside me, landing on her backside and poking a finger at me.

"What does that mean?" she said sweetly.

"It means I knew you weren't a noblewoman," I replied, "Despite your obvious grace and wit." Laying it on with a trowel now to avoid offence, I was.

"Is that a problem?" she replied, in mock-outrage.

"Not even slightly," I said with a smile.

Julie paused and watched me for a moment, deciding if I was being serious. I tried to keep a straight face, but failed. As I had realised that her surname translated as "hammer" in Orlesian. I found that pretty funny. The woman herself seemed fine with it.

"Aww, you pass," she said. She straightened up and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I breathed a sigh of relief, pleased I had avoided her ire. With a grin, I returned my attention to the others.

"Good," I said, "Who's next?"

"I believe I am," Armen said, "Madamoiselle Marteau, do you agree with the Chantry on mages?" Jesus, the elf could be a hardass sometimes. He softened up over the course of our association, but at this point, he was still on-mission.

Julie locked her eyes on him. Her contempt for the inquiry was obvious. She was and is Andrastian to her core, albeit in a way people in my world would call a Protestant. However, she thought better of making hostility over the issue. She could understand Armen's position. So, rather than punch the fellow, which I'm sure she considered, she smiled. She refilled her cup, and downed it. The question was refused. We would have to wait until later to see what her opinion on the Rebellion was.

"I guess that answers that," I said.

"She had the right," Armen said, "I'm glad to see that it can be exercised."

I nodded. "Tam, your turn."

The Qunari frowned for a moment. She hadn't prepared a question for Julie. Her eyes went to me, not searching for a suggestion but considering something. Her head swivelled to Armen for a split second too, before her thoughts coalesced into an idea.

"Hunt and the mage can fight, that much is obvious. One has firelances and looks like he could swing a sword, the other has magic," Tam said, "You look like you could fight too, but can you?"

Count on the Qunari to consider the practicals. She seemed to be following me because I was strong, or my country was. It made sense that she'd wonder about her other travelling companions. I could not in fact swing a sword, however. Not part of my training to say the least.

Julie snorted her amusement at the Qunari's doubts.

"I live outside the walls. Have to. Blacksmith, remember?" she said, "Of course I can fight."

"What's your preferred weapon?" asked Tam.

"Warhammer," replied Julie without hesitation, "Never really used a bow, but I can swing metal around easily enough. Always have to fight off wildlife, and bandits on occasion, until the guard arrive." I chuckled at that. Because of her surname.

Tam nodded in response, satisfied at the answer. To be honest, I found it very easy to imagine Julie hefting a sledgehammer into some poor idiot voyeur as she bathed in a river. Shows my state of mind, I guess. Of course, the image I had in my head was all wrong. She had armour too, which I would see in due course, and I doubt she would have worn it to bathe.

"We'll have to find you one for the road," Armen said, "We have another two days to go."

"Yeah, about that," Julie replied, "If we're going to take all of Sam's weapons, it'll be more like a week before we get there. One horse pulling all that weight..."

I hadn't considered that. I was too used to the vehicles of my own world to do so in the first place. A week on the road opened up new dangers, including a higher risk of being caught by the authorities. Then again, I had my weapons. I could just lay waste to any mask-wearer who got in my way. Not the most subtle solution, but Orlais' big words about subtlety are exaggerated in the first place.

"You have more weapons?" Tam asked me. Before drinking, obeying the rules of the game. Like I said, it's catchy.

"Yeah, a whole cave full of them," I replied, "Along with some armour, explosives, helmets, and plenty of ammunition. I could storm that big palace back in Halamshiral single-handed if I needed to." I probably shouldn't have told them that. But I was drunk.

"Can we see them?" asked Armen, smiling.

"Sure, don't see why not," I said, "In the morning though."

"I'll hold you to it," the mage replied, saluting me with his cup.

"Your turn, mage," Tam said, her smile turning to its murderous streak as she pointed at him.

"What do you want to ask?" he said, returning the gesture.

"Your life as a mage seems soft by comparison to what your kind suffer under the Qun," she asked, "I'd like to know more."

Armen inclined his head, agreeing to the request. I thought he would blast her with lightning for asking such a thing. People rarely like to be reminded of their hardships, former or otherwise. The elf was a level-headed sort, so he just drank and set down his cup, ready to speak.

"If you're born a mage, you're taken to a Circle of Magi when you're still a child. If you're a noble, you lose all titles and land claims, but nobles and commoners are separated from their families regardless of rank," he began.

"It's the same under the Qun," Tam muttered in interruption, "What happens then?"

"The children are raised as part of the Circle. What Julie said by the river is right, they are educated and taken care of. We don't starve in the towers, usually. Sometimes the Templars wouldn't feed us as a punishment. When the children are old enough, their blood is taken so that they can be tracked at all times and they undergo a test to see if they can be possessed by a demon. If they fail, they are made Tranquil, robbed of all emotion by force."

"How?" I asked, "How do they take that from a person?" I was not inquiring as to the method, but Armen took it as such.

"It involves a lyrium brand, but as with many things, it is extremely difficult to explain to a non-mage," he replied, "Especially to someone from a world without magic."

I conceded the point, as Tam shifted her weight.

"I was right, you did have a soft life," she said, "Our saarebas are chained and lashed, watched by specially trained soldiers at every moment, their tongues cut out or their lips sewn together if they so much as speak wrongly."

"Perhaps we did have a soft life, compared to the Qunari," Armen said, "But that life is over. And, the ordinary person in Orlais probably lives a soft life compared to their counterpart in Par Vollen. If the Qun is the standard to measure against, almost everyone except a slave in Tevinter has a soft life."

"To the Fade with the Qun," declared Julie, "It's no different to slavery anyway."

"You're right, it is no different," Tam said, agreeing, "But given the dangers of letting mages roam around, I am not so sure that they can be allowed to have a soft life."

"They're people, same as anyone else," I said to that, "They deserve every opportunity to live their lives peacefully, because everyone does. Separate them, make them some strange thing that isn't really part of your society, and they'll rebel against it. Whether it's the Tevinter guys ruling over non-magic folks, or Circle whatdoyoucallems rebelling and blowing up stuff. The problem is the same. You're separating them, rather than treating them like people."

"Exactly," said Armen, very pleased I had went on a monologue, "I doubt the Qunari abuse their mages for their own personal pleasures or out of spite."

Tam looked annoyed for a second, before breathing out. It looks like the elf had scored a point against her prejudice. "No, such behaviour is punished if discovered, and it is not common. Mages may be dangerous, but they are useful. Misusing them in such a manner would be idiocy. They are also revered, as they struggle most to live within the Qun."

"That's what happened in the Circles. Beatings, abuse, rapes, murder covered up with excuses about blood magic, the kidnapping of children from their parents regardless of whether or not they had magic potential. Did you know that some of the very Templars that guard us were the kidnapped children of Circle mages? Brought up to hate and fear what their parents were."

I couldn't help but flinch at that. I knew I wasn't getting the whole story from Armen, he was after all a partisan in a conflict where the Templars were the enemy. However, if there was even a grain of truth in his claims, it made me very eager to get the hell out of Thedas.

"I didn't know that..." muttered Julie. Of course she didn't, why would the Chantry advertise its corruption to an ordinary believer. Or what they thought was an ordinary believer, rather.

"That is sick," I said, feeling nauseous at the very thought. It sounded like something the death cult I had been fighting would do, kidnapping children to turn them into warriors of God.

"Yes, it is," said Armen, "So that's the life I've had until about a year ago, when Kirkwall's Circle rebelled. I wish I could say I was enjoying my freedom and I have, but it's been a lot of work."

I saw my chance to ask about what I had been thinking about since that morning when I had met him.

"Speaking of work," I interjected, "My question is this: What were you doing in Halamshiral that forced you to be smuggled out in a fruit crate?"

Armen gathered his robes close to him, and grimaced, thinking about his answer. His eyes watched the fire for a moment, before looking up mischievously at me. Slowly, he raised his cup, and drank from it. I threw my arms up in complaint, as he tipped the last of the vodka into his mouth and put the cup down.

"Ah, come on!" I said in frustration, "You climbed out a crate after we watched something explode. You won't tell us if it was you?"

Armen glanced to the heavens for a moment, and then back to me. He was getting drunk, I could tell, as we all were. And it was about to loosen his tongue.

"Actually, that explosion was your fault," he said, waving his finger between all three of us, "I can say that much."

"Wait, what?" asked Julie, "How? It was obviously a magical... thing."

A magical thing indeed. Sending a plume of near-blinding light into the sky would have to be. Well, I could build a weapon that would be more powerful and it wouldn't be magic. But I'd be dooming the world if I did. The people of Thedas still aren't mature enough for nukes, to say the least.

"You burned down the prison," Armen explained, "The Circle mages in the Tower took it as a signal that the Templars were about to annul them. The Grand-Enchanter had sent word to look out for something like that as a warning."

"Annul them?" I asked, "Does that mean what I think it does?"

"If you're thinking it means kill every mage in the place, down to the last child, then yes," Armen replied, "Though you probably did them a favour. The Templars seem to be becoming more and more lawless with every passing day. Even the Divine is troubled, or so goes the word."

"The succession probably isn't helping things," said Julie, "Nobles always find the best time to squabble. Not that mages are more trustworthy, no offence Armen."

"None given, none taken," he said, "Fear is understandable for both sides. Mages and the common person have been forcibly separated for centuries."

Except one side used to be able to blast the other to smithereens without fear of retaliation from anything but Templars. Whoever came up with that arrangement was a moron, to say the least. I haven't ever bothered to find out who is responsible, but I doubt Andraste would have been amused to see how things developed. I certainly wasn't.

"So, what you're saying is... I've already struck my first blow for the Mage Rebellion?" I asked.

"Inadvertently, yes," said Armen with a wink, "Welcome to the cause, brother."

"Well, shit," I said, before taking a deep drink. I already felt pretty drunk, but I needed more after hearing those words.

I hadn't considered the explosion's implications for my own situation. Even if our escape had nothing to do with what happened in the Circle Tower that night, our disappearance coincided perfectly with the events. Our involvement, or mine at least, would be suspected. Eventually, someone would try to track us down. I doubted that anyone believed we died in the fire I had started in the records room.

Thankfully, because I had taken the time to destroy just that very room, it would be days or weeks before they figured out enough to come back to the crash-site. At which point I planned to be long gone, either safe in Julie's village or directing my countrymen to invade and destroy the bullshit regime I had found here. Perhaps I could avoid further involvement.

"My turn again," said Julie, "We've been talking a lot about how we might not be able to trust you, Armen..."

She stopped and looked at Tam, one eye closed as if she was aiming a crossbow at the Qunari. Probably because it was obvious where most of the objections to the elf's presence came from. I guess everyone was getting pretty intoxicated at this point.

"But how do you know you can trust us?" Julie continued, "How do you know that Tam or I won't turn you in to the Templars? They would pay us a handsome reward if we did, too."

The mage grabbed the bottle from Julie, refilled his cup and drank it quickly. He apparently needed no time to think on an answer; he was entirely unwilling to discuss his real reason for following us beyond what he said already. I didn't particularly want to know, because my suspicions were very much raised over his answer to the question before. Madamoiselle Marteau on the other hand was outraged.

"That's two you didn't answer!" Julie said, waving her cup at Armen like she was a prosecutor.

"He's allowed to do that, if he drinks," I said, cutting in, "If he doesn't want to discuss it, that's his choice. It's bad form, but..."

"I don't believe you're the kind of people to throw a man to the wolves," Armen added, "I'd rather not say more than that."

"You're less fun than I thought you'd be," said Julie, crossing her arms, "But I can't force you."

Tam cleared her throat to get our attention. Our heads swung to her, wondering what she intended to say. She sat up straight, or as much as she could given that she was obviously under the influence now. For a woman of her size, she didn't have much tolerance for alcohol. Yet.

"It is your turn to ask me questions," the Qunari said firmly.

We burst out laughing immediately. She was insistent. I was glad that she was enjoying herself, such that it was. Tam had seemed the most uptight of us, at least where idle chatter was concerned. Her enthusiasm was not dampened by our mirth. After a few more seconds of chuckling and giggling, I caught enough breath to speak.

"Okay, I have a question for you," I said, still half laughing, "If you'll hear it."

"I would be happy to," said Tam, her soft smile beaming at me.

"You say you were Tamassran, but what does that mean? Is that your name?"

"No, it's a profession," Tam replied, "Your name given to you at birth is merely a collection of information about your bloodline, what physical traits you possess. They're too long to use everyday, and they are not easy to shorten. Tamrassan is the role I had in the Qun."

"So what did you do?" Julie asked, "Every day, if that was your job."

"Tamassrans guide Qunari society," Tam replied, "I was mostly involved with the raising of children, teaching them of the Qun and practical life skills, as well as nurturing them as children should be. I was also selected to comfort warriors, as I said before, because I am attractive."

She said it all so matter-of-factly that I had no trouble believing it, but it didn't explain her daggerwork or the bow on her back.

"So you were a teacher... mostly?" I said, "With a little bit of courtesan thrown in?"

"No," replied Tam, "Tamassrans select roles for children at the age of twelve, and then shape them for the rest of their lives. Other Qunari would deny it, but we lead society in every meaningful way. We are by far the most honoured of all those under the Qun. Without us, the whole idea would collapse. Caring for children and providing for each other's sexual needs are just two duties on that path. Both are not optional. One turns the next generation into pieces to fit into society. The other is providing for a biological need that cannot be avoided, both for the Tamassran and the warrior. There are other duties."

I wasn't sure if that meant she had a good life before or a bad one. On the one hand, she was clearly in a position of respect and possibly on the path to political power. Perhaps the closest thing to a noble that the Qunari had. On the other, she seemed to be describing systematic sex slavery and the indoctrination of children as her primary duties. I frowned to myself, thinking about the contradiction.

"Do these other duties require a dagger and bow?" Julie asked, clearly referring to how Baldy died.

"All Tamassrans are trained to fight stealthily rather than directly," said Tam, "We are not warriors, but the Qun states that enemies may try to destroy the way by attacking us, so we are to evade and strike from the shadows. We also teach young Qunari warriors their first lessons in combat and how to hunt, so we are required to know how to use blades and bows."

So she was a drill instructor too. I knew I recognised that vicious smile of hers somewhere, and I realised where from. Infantry School. The instructors there were just like Tam in some ways, come to think of it.

"So what else do Tamrassans do, if they're not assassins or soldiers?" I asked.

"Other things. It was not among my duties, but they choose who mates with who, to create the most useful children," Tam started. Great, add eugenics to the list of reasons the Qun sucks.

"Ah, wait!" said Julie, "That brings me to my question."

"By all means," smiled Tam.

"I heard that the Qunari don't have families," Julie said, "Is that true?" I raised an eyebrow at that. It was a good question. How does a society survive without families as the most basic grouping of people?

"Yes," said Tam. An awkward pause came after, as the two stared at each other.

"So... how does that work?" Julie continued.

"Children are born and raised together in units," Tam said.

"Away from their parents?" asked Armen, finally finding something to say. The question was obviously motivated by what he had said about the children of Circle mages. I felt somewhat sorry for him.

"Yes, Tamassrans raise the children," Tam stated with some pride, "We receive ten children each on our twentieth birthday, after eight years of instruction. Some of the younger tamassrans help us raise them, learning from us as we learned from our own elders. There are also wet-nurses for when the children are too young. I spent twelve years with my first group, it was very satisfying to see how they all turned out. I'm sure they're all still serving dutifully, which is less pleasing now that I have abandoned the way."

Tam definitely had the air of a mother about her now, speaking about her charges as if they were her own. I shuddered a little at how powerful an ideology her nation must live under, if it can produce that sort of effect. Though it was exploiting a natural instinct, I couldn't help but think it wrong. I wondered for a moment if Tam had children. I would get my answer soon enough.

"You talk about it as if you were happy," said Julie, smiling a little now.

"I was," Tam responded, "I had purpose."

"Why did you leave then?" asked Armen, "Or were you forced out?"

Tam looked at the elf like he had just released a bad smell. Touchy subject, I guess, but the Qunari was not a cowardly or secretive type. Her upbringing precluded either trait in her, I guessed.

"Is that your question?" she asked. Armen nodded.

Tam took a drink, steeling herself before answering. I lay down and got comfortable, knowing it would be a good story. It was. Julie followed in front of me, leaning her head on the rolled up spare blanket I had been using as a pillow.

"I lived most of my life in Par Vollen. There, the Qun is very much secure and there are no troubles. After I had finished caring my first... batch of children for twelve years, I hoped and expected to be assigned another group. At worst, I thought I would be promoted to oversee such things, as I had been praised for my competence in these matters. But it was not to be."

"What happened?" asked Julie at a half-whisper.

"I was sent to Seheron," Tam said, before turning to me, "It's an island between the Qunari and the Tevinter Imperium. We control much of it, but it remains a battlefield. Fighting between my people, the 'vints and the local rebels is fierce."

"Why would you be sent there?" I asked, as she had said she was not a warrior.

"Children are born there too, of course," said Tam, "But that was not to be my duty there."

"What was?" asked Armen.

"Helping to educate the bas, the unbelievers whom we had captured or forced to surrender. Some elder tamassrans had decided that I was a candidate to be rasaan, a successor to the high priestess and an ambassador who cures persistent unbelievers with qamek. It burns out the mind of the victim until even mages are fit for nothing more than physical labour, worse than your Tranquils. I was sent to observe these rituals, to prepare myself to carry them out. They were testing me."

"And you objected to that?" said Julie, sure that the Qunari had.

"Not at first," Tam replied, "Most of the people we dealt with were... savage. People who had surrendered after burning villages or poisoning wells. I could not care for them, I only saw people who would try and kill the children I had raised."

"Until you met one that didn't seem like that," I said.

"Yes. She was a Tevinter mage, not very high ranked but had been forced to fight due to some obligation to a higher noble house," Tam said, "She had surrendered without a fight when the others had died in an ambush. We tried and tried to convert her, but she knew how we treated mages. She just wanted to flee to the southern lands. We would not let her. I was forced to administer the qamek that time. I fled the Qunari that very night, haunted by a nightmare of her doing to me what I had done. I followed her plan, fled south."

"Don't the Qunari have ways of treating such problems?" Armen said, "Shouldn't you have gone to your fellows?"

"I could have gone to the Ben-Hassrath, but my faith in the way of the Qun had been shaken," said Tam, "They would have attempted to re-educate me, but I would have had to take qamek too, which was what I feared more than anything."

"How did you escape?" asked Julie, "Seheron is a long way from here."

"I surrendered to Tevinter with the personal effects of their mage," said Tam, "They considered enslaving me, a situation I believed I could escape more easily, but in the end they gave me back my weapons and put me on a boat to Antiva. There are many Tal'Vashoth there, I think they meant to spread my story to curry resentment against the Qunari. From there, I moved south as quickly as I could, as far from the reach of either the Imperium or the Ben-Hassrath as I could get."

"Which is why you are so interested in the power of my country," I said, connecting the dots, "Your people couldn't possibly take you from me and mine, we'd put them to the sword."

"It is not just that," said Tam, "Your country is intriguing. Almost the exact opposite to my own, yet it is powerful and obviously wealthy. I want to know how it works."

"Then you should read those books," said Julie, thumbing over her shoulder and my side to the helicopter, "Some of them describe how his country works."

"Perhaps I shall," said Tam, "With your permission."

"No need to ask on my account," I replied, "Go right ahead."

Julie yawned loudly uncontrollably, which set me off doing the same. I checked my watch, and found that it was pretty late. I looked around and discovered that it was pitch black outside the beams of the artificial lights and the flicker of the fire.

There were two moons in the sky too, which I just found to incredible to believe.

"I am drunk," I said, "I'm seeing two moons."

"There are always two moons," said Armen, smirking.

"Oh, right, not Earth," I said, "Time to sleep then, I think."


AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Well, so much for editing things down... I managed to add another two or three thousand words to this, pushing it well over the 10,000 word mark. Thus making it even harder to edit...

The next chapter will be entitled "Shrubberies".

Changed the rating to M. Regular programming will resume on my other stories as of now, which won't interfere too much with this.

Thank you to whoever added this story to the "When in Thedas" community, where it joins other glorious stories of Earthlings trapped in the world of Dragon Age.

As always, if you read it, review it!

KiraReaper: Mages and more...

ThatBlueScreenGuy: I'm glad you're enjoying it, at least. I welcome all commentary.

Judy: I was not even aware that there were moderators on stories, I thought they just looked at comments and such. As reading through an entire story for a violation seems like a lot of work to me.

Blue Tombstone: I hope this chapter clears things up a little as to why Mr. Hunt isn't out giving away his guns. Very much appreciate the compliments too!