Well, here we are! Sorry to keep you all waiting; life's been taking a real nose dive lately and it doesn't look like thing's are gonna be changing anytime soon, but I shall keep at this whenever I can, do not worry, particularly since we are getting close to some good parts of the story, if it plays out the way I want! I think many of you can probably guess once you've read it who'll be making an appearance soon and what effect that'll have on Arthur and Leliana's relationship.

Well, here are my take on the forays to Soldier's Peak and Honnleath, as well as a glimpse into the mind of another character in this story. Hopefully it's not a bad take; writer's block is a real bitch these days, as the time between updates is proving!

As always, thank you to everyone who reviews, favourites or just reads this; it gives me the impetus and the will to keep going! Special thanks to les11280, Ygrain333, spectre4hire, MysticGohan88,ethan 89 (the last part of this chapter is written for you, as disgusting a task as it is to delve into the mind of Rendon Howe!) cakeisalie, InuManKa91 (I know what you mean about Denerim, fortunately Arthur and the others have a relatively cunning plan to try and get about undetected) and to Doctortrainwreck (to know I can inspire such enthusiasm for my work is truly heartening; rest assured, I'm not stopping any time soon!) . Also thanks to AzureRogue, Doctortrainwreck and Fiori75 for adding me to favourites.

I will be making references to DAII occasionally, mostly from Arabella's point of view (even though it was nowhere near as good as Origins, I still enjoyed parts of it, mostly particular characters and the storyline), and a familiar face should be making an appearance next time (since she looked so much better in DAII than Origins!)

For those who haven't played them, spoilers for The Stone Prisoner and Warden's Keep DLCs follow.

'Atrast nal tunsha-May you always find your way in the dark'.

And above all else, enjoy!

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The genlock screeched as the sword's blade stabbed down into its chest. The darkspawn's wail petered out into a weak death rattle as it slumped to the floor, Arthur drawing the Green Blade out with a wet, sucking sound and a spurt of blood droplets. Several more genlocks came running out of the burning village, drawn by the sound, knives and axes in their clawed hands, ready to fight.

It felt strangely good to be fighting darkspawn again. After so long battling for various causes, against abominations and undead, amongst werewolves and elves, templars and mages, for causes that had both benefits and flaws to them, it felt good to be battling an enemy that didn't have any secret agenda or hidden cause; just man against beast, kill or be killed.

It also felt good to be doing something that felt like it was making a difference against the Blight. While Arthur knew full well that the treaties were necessary, that without those, Ferelden's military forces would stand no chance of quelling the darkspawn advance, chasing around after the finer points written on age-old scrolls of parchment did not feel as satisfying as actively trying to put a dent in the horde by actually killing darkspawn. Not that Arthur felt the attaining of two of the three treaties was something to be sniffed at, not when it gained the aid of allies as useful as the Circle and the Dalish, but he couldn't deny that he felt that actually facing the monsters in open battle had been something long put off.

'I've grown stronger since Ostagar. They won't find me as easy prey as they did atop Ishal'.

A second genlock went down with an arrow in its eye, while a third took a crossbow bolt in the throat, tumbling down the small slope from the burning cottage it and its ilk had been in the process of ransacking, tripping up two more darkspawn behind it. Arthur tossed a grateful nod towards Alistair and Leliana, before turning his attention to the remaining darkspawn. The two remaining genlocks that had tripped over their slain kin were trying to get back to their feet, but Arabella was on them, moving with cat-like speed, the robes of Tevinter make she'd acquired from the tower doing nothing to impede her movement; she kicked one genlock in the face as it tried to rise, and before it could recover, shouted an incantation that smothered the darkspawn in white hot flames, and then, swift as a panther, pinned the second genlock's blade under her foot as the disarmed creature tried to crawl towards it. The genlock shrieked angrily, lifting its head to bare its hooked fangs, and Arabella seized the moment, driving her staff, and the long, sharpened iron spike she had attached to its end, straight through the brute's neck, pulling it free in a spray of dark blood. "Almost too easy" she muttered.

Arthur nodded in thanks to the young woman. He still didn't know what to make of the blood mage; while his earlier distaste for such magic was still present, he couldn't deny that she had proven useful. In many ways, his feelings for her were like those for Zevran; while she showed usefulness, a willingness to help and no evidence to suggest she would betray them the first chance she got, Arabella had nothing to fear from him. 'And besides' Arthur thought 'she's a Warden now. I got her into the same mess as me and Alistair when I used the Right. I may not like what she can do, but she's in the same boat, and I'll be damned if I don't do my utmost to keep her alive!'

The village square was the centre of the carnage; bodies of villagers left where they had been cut down-men, women, even children and animals- hacked to ribbons by darkspawn blades and left as fodder for the horde, and for the flies and crows once the darkspawn were done feeding off the bodies. And yet, there were barely any darkspawn remaining in Honnleath; about half a dozen hurlocks, and nearly double that number of genlocks, fighting amongst themselves over loot or choice pieces of meat from the multitude of corpses lying around. A hurlock Alpha prowled amongst them, periodically helping itself to choice bits of the plunder, often from the claws of its underlings, silencing their protests with a deep growl from within the confines of its horned helm, or a whack with the haft of its battle axe.

'As I suspected' Arthur thought 'Just like Lothering, the horde's already been and gone, taken anything that wasn't nailed down and destroyed whatever was left over. These ones probably lingered behind to see what else they could loot and hunt down any remaining survivors'.

"How many?" Wynne asked. Arthur turned his attention to the older mage, genuine fear for her safety crossing his mind. 'I shouldn't have agreed for her to come with us'. Arabella was an accomplished enough healer and Wynne...clearly her age was catching up with her, as the incident on the road had proved. Having freshly killed a pack of darkspawn outriders, having no doubt left Honnleath to scout the outlying approaches to Redcliffe and the Bannorn, the group had been completely caught unawares when Wynne had keeled over. Her somewhat banal assurance that she would explain all when they returned to camp did not reassure Arthur in any way, but he couldn't do anything about it for the moment.

"Not as many as the rider said there'd be. It's just like Lothering; the horde's long gone. All we're seeing here are the ones that have stayed behind".

Arabella winced at the mention of Lothering, and Arthur felt a little bad about so bluntly mentioning it. She and Alistair's search among the refugees from the village who were camped in and around Redcliffe had yielded no sign of her relations. All the girl had been able to find out was that her aunt and cousins had fled east, to either Denerim or Gwaren-no one had known for sure- no doubt hoping, along with the thousands of refugees who'd fled to the cities on Ferelden's coast, to barter passage on a ship to Orlais or the Free Marches. Arthur wished this Hawke family good fortune on their journey; he did not begrudge anyone wishing to get themselves as far away from the Blight as possible.

"Even so, they outnumber us. Pity that thing's not working; if it were, we'd have a chance. It could pulverise them before they knew what was on 'em, all we'd have to do would be mop up the rest" Alistair said with a nod towards the only other thing of interest in the village square, and the second reason they'd come to Honnleath.

Stood in the centre of the village square was a seven foot tall statue, roughly hewn from granite or some other hard stone into the shape of a humanoid figure, the stonemason who'd carved the thing making out rudimentary impression of musculature. Its wide shoulders, broad torso and back were studded with irregular blue crystals and its immense arms tapered to boulder-like fists, its small, geometric head carved into an expression that might suggest the statue were shouting a battle cry or taunt. The darkspawn paid it as much attention as they did the corpses littered about the place, but the Wardens and their companions knew better. The chance encounter with that merchant from Jader in Redcliffe had told them something of great interest about Honnleath; the statue was a golem, crafted by the dwarves in ages past. The merchant had happily passed over the control rod needed to reawaken the thing, along with the command phrase, eager to be rid of an object he was unlikely to sell, and thus adding another reason to head south. However, not all his companions had agreed with such logic.

"You waste time saving peasants and chasing down the remains of dead women while the Blight only waxes stronger and this dathrasi Loghain tightens his stranglehold on this nation" Sten had protested when he heard of Arthur's intention to head south to assist in Honnleath's evacuation.

"Do you know what a golem is, Sten?" Arthur questioned.

"No, I cannot say I do. The Tamassrans must lack the knowledge of such things; I will make sure to remedy that when I return to Par Vollen"

"Let me enlighten you then. A golem is a weapon of incredible power and force, created by the dwarves for one purpose; to destroy darkspawn. It is said that a single golem was worth an entire company of soldiers in battle, and was easily capable of slaughtering its way through countless packs of darkspawn. Now, seeing as you are now aware of what such a thing can do, do you not agree that it would be useful to acquire such a weapon and put it to use before our enemies do?"

Sten hadn't replied, but the reluctant nod the qunari had given told Arthur that his argument had begrudgingly won Sten around. In any case, Arthur was glad that he hadn't brought the qunari; Sten, Zevran and Morrigan had been left behind at Redcliffe to help Teagan protect Eamon. It was all too real a possibility that Loghain might send another assassin to finish the job once he learned his first attempt had been thwarted, but that could be dealt with later.

Quickly, Arthur sketched out a plan of battle. "I'll deal with the Alpha; you take out the hurlocks. There's a good chance the genlocks will spook and run if we kill their larger ilk" he explained before anyone else could ask. Raising his longbow, Arthur took aim, waiting until the Alpha had turned so that he could see its face, and then loosed the bowstring. The arrow flew through the air and slammed into the alpha's left eye, sending the creature pitching to the floor. A second arrow, accompanied by one from Leliana and a crossbow bolt dropped three of the hurlocks. By then, the darkspawn were charging straight for them, the Alpha getting back to its feet despite having an arrow protruding from its eye, hefting its axe and roaring angrily, swinging out. Alistair slammed his shield into the chest of a charging hurlock, knocking it off balance and sending it sprawling, then smashed its skull with his mace as it tried to rise. Arthur dodged aside from a downward stroke of the alpha's axe, leaping to its left and taking advantage of the blind spot, driving his blade into the side of the darkspawn's chest and then slamming the base of his shield into the side of its throat; there was a satisfying crunch as the beast's neck snapped from the force of the blow. Leliana sliced open the throat of another hurlock with her daggers, then spun and hurled the blades, the thrown daggers slamming into the chests of two genlocks. The remaining darkspawn panicked; with so many of their number slain, they broke and run, the genlocks scattering like crows in all directions, looking for a way out of the village, the hurlocks retreating through an open door set at the base of a structure that might once have been a tower, fleeing down a staircase that disappeared into darkness.

With the darkspawn threat gone, Arthur turned his full attention to the inert golem. Feeling a great sense of satisfaction at acquiring such a valuable prize, the Warden raised the control rod and intoned "Dulef gar"

Nothing happened. Arthur tried the command phrase again. Still nothing happened. "So that merchant fobbed us off with a worthless stick" he muttered angrily, toying with the notion to throw it aside, but Leliana gestured to the ruins of the tower, the open door through which the remaining hurlocks had fled down.

"There may be more darkspawn down there, and if so, there may be survivors or prisoners who might know more about this golem"

"Then let's find out" Arthur replied, the taint in his veins guiding the way down the stairs.

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The darkness of the tunnels was not more reassuring; the only light conjured from the tips of Wynne and Arabella's staffs, and the only thing guiding them the burning, itching sensation coursing through Arthur's veins, growing stronger as they neared their objective. The steps down hadn't led them into the Deep Roads, as Arthur feared they would, but into some amalgamation of a laboratory and a brewery. The smell of ale and magical potions hung heavily in the air, making Arthur wonder just who had lived here. 'Was this place's owner a mage? An apostate? Did the villagers know? Did they stay silent to protect him from the Circle?'

A feral screech in the distance snapped Arthur out of his musings. There'd be plenty of time to wonder on the identity of the tower's owner after the darkspawn infesting it were dead.

Soon enough, the meandering tunnels had converged on a single chamber, a large open room where a pack of darkspawn were trying vainly to smash their way through some sort of transparent wall, formed of violet energy. Behind the wall, a number of men and women cowered and prayed for deliverance; the wall was holding, but it wouldn't last forever, not with five hurlocks trying to hack their way through, or the emissary alternately blasting the barrier with fire and lightning. They had attacked without thinking, Arthur swinging his sword into the back of a hurlock's skill, splitting it before the creature knew it was threatened. The emissary whirled round, spitting angrily and blasted a lightning bolt at Arthur, but the magic did no damage, Arthur silently thanking the mage who'd crafted the enchantments on the Juggernaut plate. The emissary snarled in anger and tried to attempt another spell, fire flickering in its clawed hands...and then guttering out as Alistair's templar skills silenced its spell casting. The emissary stared in dumb shock at its empty hands, and fell with a screech as two arrows from Leliana took it in the throat.

The quartet of remaining hurlocks broke into a charge, but Arabella and Wynne hit them first, simultaneously blasting the darkspawn with their magic; a jet of ice from Wynne froze the hurlocks, before a stream of flame from the Amell girl melted it, leaving the hurlocks standing in a pool of ankle-deep water, their armour drenched. Before the creatures could recover, Arthur pulled the glass bottle he'd purchased from the merchant and hurled it at their feet; the shock bomb shattered, the magical electricity escaping and frying the hurlocks within their own armour. Fatally electrocuted, the hurlocks toppled to the ground like rag dolls, dead and charred like sides of beef. The watching people of Honnleath cheered jubilantly as they saw the threat was over.

"By the Maker, we're saved!" a woman cried out joyfully from behind the barrier.

"You weren't sent by the Bann, were you?" Another man asked. "To save us?"

"I'm a Grey Warden, sent from Redcliffe" Arthur replied. "Your message got through"

"A Grey Warden? Here? Well, thank the Maker for our luck!" the man laughed. "Teyrn Loghain can say what he likes about you; actions speak louder than words as far as we're concerned now. Thank you again. If there's anything we could do for you by way of thanks..."

"There is one thing; you can tell me why this doesn't work..." Arthur asked, holding up the control rod. The man's face darkened into an annoyed scowl at the sight of the artefact. He quickly made some gesture with his hand and the barrier fell away, allowing his fellow villagers to depart, but the man gestured for the Wardens to come closer.

"That damnable golem brought us nothing but trouble! My mother sold the rod years ago after it killed my father and good riddance!"

"Oh wonderful! It's defective?" Alistair groaned.

"Must be; my father was its master and it still killed him! Doesn't seem like normal behaviour to you, does it? My name is Matthias; my father's name was Wilhelm, mage to the arls of Redcliffe and a hero in the war against Orlais! And what did he get for it? One day my mother found my father outside his tower, with so many broken bones she couldn't recognise him, and that wretched thing standing over him as it is now! My father deserved better, but if you want to wake that cursed thing up, it's yours now!"

"Except the command phrase I was told doesn't work" Arthur replied. Matthias rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Hmmm, my mother might have passed the wrong command phrase along with the rod when she sold it; she said she never wanted to see that golem activated again. Look, I'll tell you the command phrase, but I'll need your help first! I know you saved my life and I'm grateful, but my daughter...Amalia, she was afraid and ran into my father's laboratory before anyone could stop her. One of the men tried to go after her, but something in there killed him; defences my father built to keep intruders out. I knew about the barrier, I had the key for that, but I don't know about anything else; my mother and I never came down here!"

"How do you know something hasn't happened to her? A single child, in the sanctum of a powerful mage..."

"I don't, it's true! I'm terrified something's happened and she's lying in there, injured. I can't leave until I know for certain; surely you can understand that!"

"Alright, I'll try to find her if I can"

"Thank the Maker, bless you ser! My father's laboratory is at the end of the passage; she has to be there!"

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The tunnels leading down to the mage Wilhelm's lab were just as wending as those taken to get down from the surface, though mercifully devoid of bloodthirsty darkspawn. The tunnel finally came to a large open chamber at the foot of a wooden staircase, unnoticeable save for a large wooden platform at the room's centre, etched with all manner of strange runes. At the foot of the stairs was crouched a girl of about nine or ten, idly humming and talking to something out of sight. Arthur descended down the wooden stairs into the chamber and the girl looked up at the intrusion.

"Oh look, someone's come to play. You have come to play, haven't you?"

"Ah, you're safe. Your father was worried" Leliana smiled, extending a hand for the girl to come closer, but Amalia didn't move.

"Father?" the girl asked blankly. "Oh, you can tell him I'm fine. Maybe he'll come and stay with us" she replied with a smile, before turning away. "Anyway, you should go if you're not going to play. Kitty finds you distracting".

"Kitty?" Arthur questioned. At this, a small, white-furred kitten emerged from hiding behind the girl's legs, arching its back and rubbing itself against Amalia's ankles, idly pawing at loose threads of wool at the hem of the girl's dress.

"Come on, Amalia, we have to leave before the darkspawn return. You can bring the cat" Arthur replied, trying to get the girl to move, but Amalia wouldn't budge.

"I can't go! Kitty says she can't leave and I'm not going without her! She'd be lonely otherwise"

At the sight of the cat, Edward let out a low, angry growl, fangs bared, hackles raised, and fur standing on end. Arthur rolled his eyes; what a time for the mabari to do what dogs do best, when they needed to convince the girl to leave with or without her new pet.

"Hmph" a haughty female voice sneered from out of nowhere. "I would not suggest leaving in such hostile company anyway, Amalia. Look how vicious they are". The group whirled round, utterly astonished, trying to find the speaker, seeing nothing...except for the cat, its small eyes glowing with an unnatural red light.

"Child, come away from that creature, now!" Wynne insisted, trying to reach out to pull the girl close, but Amalia merely shied away, scooping up the kitten and clutching it close to her chest.

"Nothing you say will convince Amalia to go with you. She loves only me now. I am her friend, whilst you are just a stranger" the cat, or whatever was posing as a cat, replied, an air of triumphant smugness in its voice. "She loves only me now. I am her friend, whereas you are just a stranger"

"A stranger who finds you very interesting, creature" Arabella replied coldly. The cat's eyes glowed again as that voice spoke with smug satisfaction "You hear that, Amalia? I have another admirer"

"That's because you're wonderful, Kitty!" Amalia beamed, hugging the creature to her chest. Arthur winced; the girl was about as safe holding that thing as she would be cuddling a cobra. He remembered the tattered journal they'd found outside the chamber; Wilhelm had been up to something in his lab, meddling and experimenting on an imprisoned demon, trying to experiment on the creature. Clearly, with his death, the demon had been forgotten about and lingered on, looking for any way out of its imprisonment. At that point, the creature in the girl's arms turned its attention to Arthur, its eyes glowing evilly as it spoke again.

"Release me, mortal, and let me have the girl. Let us return to her father and leave this place"

"Have the girl?" Arabella spat, disgusted. "As in 'possession'?"

"That's such a crude way of putting it" the demon retorted petulantly. "I do not wish to harm Amalia; I simply wish to see your world through her eyes. Is that so wrong?"

Arthur didn't have to be a mage to know the demon was lying through its teeth; it could dress up the situation any way it liked, but there was no way he was going to let the girl become an abomination. Still, refusing the demon outright might make the situation worse; it could simply force itself on the girl or kill her to keep them from stopping it. 'Better to let the creature think we're on its side, get it away from the girl and get her to safety, then destroy it' he thought.

"Alright" Arthur replied "I'll free you". Arabella and Wynne looked like they might argue, but Leliana silenced them; she'd realised what Arthur was up to. Fortunately, the demon didn't notice this.

"Thank you, you are most gracious" the creature replied. "There is a way around the wards, but the girl has not managed to find it. Perhaps you can succeed where she could not". Turning his attention to the ornate, chessboard-like flooring laid out before him, and trusting that the others would keep watch on the demon, Arthur swiftly moved the pieces that allowed a line of fire to pass from one end of the floor to the other. It took a few moments, and Arthur kept flicking wary glances over his shoulder at Amalia, the demon in her arms glowering at him, its cat's tail flicking impatiently from side to side. But finally, the stone pieces were properly aligned, and there was an audible hum of power dying down.

"Ah, I can feel the magic fading!" the demon cried jubilantly, leaping out of Amalia's arms and moving towards the foot of the wooden staircase. "Oh, I'd forgotten what it was like not to be caged!"

"Kitty? What's happening?" Amalia asked, confused. The cat-demon turned back to face the girl, but before she could get any closer, Arthur put himself between them.

"I said I'd free you; I didn't say I'd let you live" Arthur replied dryly, before the levity evaporated, and his sword was drawn, a glare as cold as the blade in his eyes. "Get away from the girl, demon!"

The cat's eyes glowed brightly and it hissed, baring its fangs and arching its back as that cold, sneering voice snarled angrily "Betrayal! You will not take the girl, she is mine!". The cat turned its attention to Amalia and spoke, in a soft, plaintive voice "Come here, Amalia! Give yourself to me, let me into you..." but the girl wasn't stupid; she couldn't have failed to notice something was wrong from the exchange that had just passed.

"Kitty, you're scaring me! I won't let you inside me, I won't!"

"Then I'll take what I want anyway, you stupid little bitch!" the demon roared, tensing to spring, but before it could strike, a single movement of his hand set Edward to the attack; with a keening howl, the mabari hit the cat like a thunderbolt, seized the demon in his jaws and angrily shook it from side to side before tossing it across the room; the cat flew across the chamber and slammed heavily into the wall, sliding to the floor. The creature gave an angry hiss and in a flash of light, it was gone, the voluptuous, seductive yet horrific form of a desire demon in its place.

"GET HER OUT OF HERE!" Arthur roared; Leliana seized Amalia by the hand and led the girl out of the chamber at a run. The desire demon screeched angrily at being denied its prey and tried to stagger after the fleeing girl, but Arthur put himself between the creature and the way out. The desire demon's sneer only widened as it stared at the man who'd denied it its prize with undiluted hate.

"Fool!" the demon roared. "With my power, Amalia would have seen so much, done so much; that girl could have changed the world!"

"Only as your slave!" Arthur spat in reply. The demon screamed a hateful battle cry, its claws outstretched, but Arthur raised his shield, the claws scrabbling across the wood harmlessly. Then the shield was slammed with great force into the demon's face, sending it staggering back.

"Arthur, down!" Wynne shouted as the demon crouched, cat-like to pounce and sprung at Arthur; he ducked as Wynne lowered her staff and a jet of ice engulfed the lunging desire demon, turning it into a statue of ice. As the thing fell, Arthur put all his strength into a blow that connected with the demon around the level of its waist...and the desire demon shattered like glass into icy pieces that quickly melted away to nothing.

They quickly raced back to the surface, to find Matthias and his fellow villagers outside, the man joyfully enfolding his daughter in his arms. "You saved her, I can't believe it!". After reassuring his daughter that he was in no way angry at her for running off, just relieved to see her safe and sound, Matthias handed over a piece of parchment on which was scrawled a pair of words in an unknown language to Arthur.

"That should work to activate that golem, if you still want that bloody thing. I wouldn't if I were you, but we should go. Thank you again...for everything. We should be able to make it to Redcliffe. Thank you again, Grey Warden, and good luck".

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"Urgh, I knew the day would come when someone would find that control rod! Huh, and not even a mage this time! Probably stumbled upon the rod by accident...typical!"

The cynical, blunt voice that emanated from the orifice carved in the golem's face that served as a mouth was nothing like Arthur had expected. "Er, hello to you too" was all he could think of to say in reply. The command phrase of "Dulen harn" had worked to awaken the stone creature, but the grouchy, irked tone was not what had been anticipated of a warrior carved from living stone.

"I stood here and watched those pathetic villagers scurry about for over thirty years" the golem groused.

"How terrible. That must have been really, really boring" Leliana empathised, but the golem clearly wasn't done using the first opportunity it had had in decades to complain.

"And then there was the darkspawn attack. I never thought I'd see anything more boring than the villagers, but there it was"

"You watched the attack?" Alistair asked, incredulous and not a little unconcerned.

"Not as much as one might think; there was shouting and screaming and running about, and then days and days of watching the darkspawn prowl about. Are the villagers all dead?"

"Not all" Wynne replied. The golem idly shrugged its shoulders and replied "So some got away? How unfortunate"

"You didn't care for them, I take it?"

"I'd have happily torn down their houses and stomped them all to paste. After thirty years of standing about in this village, I'd have done it twice. What I didn't like was being ordered to do it. 'Golem, bring that chair over here'. 'Do be a good golem and squash that insipid bandit' and let's not forget 'Golem, pick me up. I tire of walking!'. Bah!" the golem cursed, then cocked its head to one side, staring at the artefact in Arthur's hand.

"It does have the control rod, doesn't it?. I am awake, so it must have, but..."

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Arthur questioned.

"Go on. What is its command?" the golem snapped. Caught a little offguard, Arthur pointed to a point to the left of the village square and replied "Alright, walk over there"

"And...nothing. I feel nothing, no compulsion to obey. I suppose that means...I have free will?" the golem mused to itself.

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"I suppose, it is simply...what should I do? I have no memories, no idea of where to go. What about it?" the golem turned its attention to Arthur fully. "What about it? It must have had some purpose in mind when it woke me?"

"I can think of many uses for a personal golem"

"May I ask what it gets up to which I might be of use for?"

"I am a Grey Warden, in need of aid against the Blight" Arthur replied. The golem rubbed its rough-hewn chin thoughtfully as it considered this.

"It refers to the darkspawn, the very creatures that destroyed this village. The darkspawn are an evil that must be destroyed, it's true, though not as evil as the birds...damnable feathered fiends!" the golem bellowed. "Very well, I will follow it...for now. I am called Shale, by the way" the golem added as an afterthought.

"Is that your name, or...what you're made of?" Alistair quipped.

"It would prefer I was called Flint? Pebbles? How about Rubble?" Shale chortled. With nothing more to be said, the group made to depart from Honnleath before more darkspawn arrived, with their newest addition, a sarcastic golem with a dry wit and a burning hatred for any birds, as illustrated by Shale stomping a chicken into paste, along with a flock of pigeons who didn't realise until it was too late that their favourite perch and feeding spot was mobile and eager to crush them.

'So now I have an ornithophobic walking pile of rocks who killed the last person to own it to add to this collection of misfits I have at my side to defeat the Blight? Loghain and the archdemon must be quaking in their boots!'

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The snow swirled around them as the group emerged from the tunnels; Arthur and Alistair at the front, with Levi Dryden behind them and Morrigan and Leliana bringing up the rear. Looming high above them were the crenulated battlements and towers of a castle that had once been an impressive sight, though time had done its best to wear away its glory. Only the four companions had come with the merchant to the abandoned Grey Warden fortress; the others had, along with the new addition of Shale, parted company when they'd met Levi at the crossroads at the northern shore of Lake Calenhad, heading to Denerim to ascertain what was going on in the city and how easy it would be for them to locate Brother Genetivi without being discovered by Loghain.

"Soldier's Peak. Looks like it's seen better days. Better centuries, more like" Alistair remarked.

"Once the Wardens flourished, their ranks full, their calibre certain. Now they accept people like you, Alistair" Morrigan sniped, a wicked grin on her lips.

"Andraste's Blood, how'd you find this place all by yourself?" Arthur asked of Levi. The merchant shrugged his shoulders and replied "You wouldn't believe me if I told you"

"Try me"

"It came to me in my dreams..." was the reply. Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Why didn't you say this?"

"I didn't want you to think I was some moon-addled simpleton" Levi replied fairly; Arthur had to admit, he couldn't fault the man's reasoning. 'After all, we all thought Leliana was crazy when she came out of nowhere' he mused. But his thoughts were interrupted by Levi's uneasy voice.

"This place has the stench of death. I'll follow you from a distance"

The portcullis leading into the courtyard had collapsed and rusted away, and even from a distance, he could see the bodies of long dead soldiers, picked clean by the crows and the elements. The interior of the castle looked as though it had seen much battle, the stone pitted and cracked, pock-marked by arrows, burnt by fire or simply collapsed under the fury of the elements. Some of the damage could only have been done by something as powerful as siege engines, perhaps ballistae or trebuchets. 'Was it the darkspawn that did this' Arthur wondered 'or Arland's thugs wanting to silence anyone who dared speak out against their master?'

But as they crossed the threshold into the courtyard, something incredibly strange happened; a thick blue mist descended upon them, enveloping them, clouding their vision...Arthur moved his hands in front of him to try and clear his sight, and the mist parted slightly...to reveal a strange scene.

The courtyard of Soldier's Peak lay before him, but now it was in better condition, the stone less damaged than in its present state, though the portcullis had clearly been battered down, and there were men, specifically soldiers, everywhere, clearly men in service to the House of Theirin, if the insignia on their shields and armour was anything to go on. Arthur tried to grab one by the shoulder to stop the man, ask what was going on, but his hand passed through the soldier as if there was nothing there.

'Are these...ghosts?' Arthur wondered. 'Memories of events long past? How is such a thing possible?' the Warden mused, vowing to have one of the mages explain more as soon as the opportunity presented it. But a sudden commotion caught Arthur's attention; at the top of a great staircase leading to the castle's main gate, a great number of soldiers were fleeing back into the courtyard. A battering ram lay discarded upon the steps, and from the windows and battlements, unseen figures rained down arrows, spears and stones on the fleeing soldiers.

"Fall back! Fall back already!" an older man in plate armour marked with the Theirin emblem, possibly one of Arland's generals, shouted at his underlings fleeing from the castle. One of his underlings yelped in a quavering voice "Taking the Peak will not be easy, milord!"

Arland's general scowled, looking up at the battlements, where the unseen archers were cheering at their minor victory. "I gave the Wardens one chance to die with honour. Instead they hole up like cowards. We follow the King's advice. Starve them out!"

"But the Peak has months of supplies..." the lieutenant protested.

"Then we wait" the general retorted. "When they are too weak to lift their weapons, we will send them to their final judgement!"

The mist lifted, leaving all present feeling a little light-headed and nauseous. An acrid taste lingered at the back of Arthur's throat that spoke clearly of sorcery; he remembered a similar sensation back at Kinloch Hold. Looking round at the others, he could see they all looked a bit shaken by what they'd seen, blinking in confusion and looking a little nauseous in some cases. Levi was looking like a fish out of water, his mouth wide open

"Did... did you see that? "I'm not imagining it, you saw it too?"

"I've heard of an Orlesian ballad like this; a beauty trapped within a dream" Leliana added thoughtfully. "In the song, Belisa never wakes up"

"Your pretty friend's making me nervous" Levi shivered, and clearly not from the cold. Morrigan stepped forward, her hands raised, flickers of electricity criss-crossing her palms. Arthur watched her go about her work, wondering what her spell was meant to accomplish, while Levi wittered on, the fear in his voice plain to hear.

"How is that possible? This place must truly be haunted...!"

"The Veil is extremely weak here" Morrigan interjected. "Something, if not several things may have already come through; we should be wary"

"The Veil?" Levi asked blankly. "What's the Veil? And what does your friend mean when she says 'something may have come through?'"

"The Veil is the barrier that separates this world from the Fade" Arthur explained quickly. "And when Morrigan talks about something coming through, she's talking about demons"

"Demons?" Levi yelped. "Thank Andraste you came, Warden!"

"Looks like something's already here!" Alistair yelled as another example of the rampant magic loose in Soldier's Peak manifested itself; all about the courtyard, the bodies of the dead, attacker and defender alike, were getting back to their feet, weapons raised and eldritch green fire burning in empty eye sockets.

The group sprung into action; Arthur parried the blow of a skeleton clad in heavily rusted chainmail bearing the griffon emblem and beheaded it. Leliana shot an arrow through the neck of another, all but shattering the vertebrae; the skeleton staggered forward a few more steps before the motion completed the damage, and the skeleton's skull snapped free of its neck. Alistair's mace smashed in the rib cage of a third skeleton in Arland's colours, before splitting the skull of another sneaking up behind him. Morrigan blasted another into smithereens. Though numerous, the skeletons were in poor condition, their decaying bodies falling apart and their weapons barely adequate; heavily rusted iron longswords shattered and snapped against silverite breastplate and steel shield. A blade that had been cleaving towards Leliana's head shattered into pieces against the grey iron helm she'd acquired in Honnleath, the broken shards of the sword falling away like glass. The fight was over in a matter of moments, the skeletons were lying in pieces on the snow-covered ground around them; Arthur, Leliana and Alistair made a point of decapitating the lifeless corpses and smashing the bones to dust under their boots to ensure the creatures wouldn't rise again at a later moment.

"These were just the first. The magic let loose here tells me they won't be the last" Morrigan remarked as they headed up the stairs leading to the castle itself. "We should be cautious"

####################

Inside, more ghosts awaited them.

"The men's morale is low, Commander" the translucent form of a man of middle years, clad in fine robes of navy-blue cloth that marked him as a mage, spoke to an unseen figure, gesturing to a crowd of figures gathered before him. Arthur could see several mages of the Circle, human and elf alike, a small, squat warrior who could only be a dwarf, a good number of soldiers and knights, bearing the insignias of numerous Fereldan arlings and bannorns on their armour and even a young woman bearing a longbow and clad in armour that suggested her to be one of the Dalish.

"There is more to leading men than sorcery, Avernus" a rich female voice replied to the mage as a most impressive spectre strode onto the scene. The woman was clearly a warrior, clad from head to foot in glittering silverite plate armour, a variation of the Wardens' griffon emblem engraved onto the breastplate, a fine sword of the same metal sheathed at her hip. The woman might have been a great beauty once, with that long, braided ebony hair and those piercing dark brown eyes, but years of political wrangling and battling against enemies, both darkspawn and human, had made her face hard and grim. Even so, she was still an impressive sight, and scrutinising her closely and looking behind him, Arthur could see the woman and Levi shared the same long nose and wide brow, and their eyes were both the same, deep shade of brown.

'Well, well. Hello, Sophia Dryden'

"I will remind them they are Wardens" she said to the mage, before turning her full attention to the men and women before her.

"Men, I won't lie to you. The situation is grim. Our forces outnumbered, our bellies empty, and our hearts sagging. But we are Wardens! Darkspawn flee when they hear our horns. Archdemons die when they taste our blades! So are we to bend knee to a mere human despot? NO! I, for one, will never give up! I will never surrender just to dance on Arland's gallows! So I propose here and now, in these hallowed halls where generations of our brethren stood vigil against darkspawn and evil, that we send a message to that fat bastard! In this sacred place, proud men, strong men, stood defiant, and would rather die than submit to tyranny!"

A rousing cheer went up from the assembled Wardens as they shouted their battle cries and oaths of defiance against the tyrant who meant to destroy them all. The ghosts eventually faded away to nothing, leaving the companions awestruck at what they had seen.

"So brave, even when starving" Levi murmured, awed by the sight. "And my great-great- grandmother stood with them"

"I cannot believe King Arland attacked the Grey Wardens" Arthur remarked. Levi's expression grew sour. "Everyone knew they'd been banished, but to murder them like that...King Arland must have been a right monster!" the merchant finished, spitting angrily at the mention of the long-dead tyrant.

Alistair was scrutinising a poster nailed to a wall by the entrance. . "On these grounds, virtuous men stood against a tyrant. They stood defiant and they stood for freedom. And they died.", before reading off a long list of names, those of the Wardens who'd fought and died at Soldier's Peak. Arthur took note of the names and muttered "We'll make sure these brave souls are honoured when we can, but not now. We've got work to do" Arthur finished, gesturing at the closed door ahead of them.

Their journey through the Keep was an intense struggle, corpses and skeletons of those who'd died either fighting to defend or conquer Soldier's Peak rising from where they'd fallen, awoken by the presence of the living and desperate to feed on their life force. Demons also seemed present in great abundance, primarily the fiery rage demons, that attacked in great numbers, slithering across the floor like serpents, clawed arms outstretched as they reacted angrily to the intruder in their midst. The group worked in tandem, swiftly finding an effective way to combat the attackers; Morrigan would go first, unleashing a torrent of ice to paralyse them, after which Arthur and Alistair would slam their shields or Leliana would smash her foot into the frozen opponent, more often than not shattering them into pieces, or at the least debilitating them long enough for the others

The group did their best also to make sure Levi was out of the way when battle began, keeping the merchant either a short distance away from the fighting or in the middle of them when foes came from all directions. The merchant was clearly shocked by what he'd witnessed, but he had steel in him enough to keep him from leaving them to it. 'Discovering his past, the possibility of restoring what was lost must mean everything to him. In that, he and are alike' Arthur thought to himself, remembering his own feelings about Highever. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

All the while, the group found things that suggested something very strange had been going on in the fortress. Desperate missives pleading for help against Arland's tyranny from Sophia written by numerous banns and arls, and the strange encounter in the library, a glimpse of another part of the final battle that had unfolded in the Keep, the suggestion that Sophia and her fellow Wardens had engaged in some rebellion against Arland's regime.

As they entered the library, the blue mist that heralded a glimpse into the past enveloped them again, and they found themselves watching another scene from the final battle. A robed man stood surrounded by mages of varying genders, ages and race, all of them with their staffs drawn and ready for combat, the fearful looks on their faces clearly indicating they were fully aware the end was almost on them. The wide eyes of one mage, a young woman, barely out of her teens, looked through where they stood and directly at the man, who was bent over a large, open book, desperately scribbling additions to the text. "The door won't hold, archivist!" the girl called out, helping her fellows pile bookcases, broken swords and spears and whatever debris they could get their hands on in a desperate effort to barricade the door. The writer didn't even look up from his work.

"Almost done, the truth must be told," he muttered absently.

"What does it matter?" the girl yelped, her voice hopeless, looking close to tears. "We're dead!"

"Our grand rebellion... so close," the archivist muttered , his voice thick with regret and disappointment but no fear, "and to die here a stillbirth."

The woman stepped away from the door, her eyes wide and fearful as the sound of something heavy slamming into the other side was heard. "We never should have done it," she whimpered. "Wardens aren't supposed to oppose kings and princes."

The archivist looked up at her finally, his expression resigned but his tone firm and defiant. "Should we stand idly by while..."

The door suddenly slammed open, the debris acting as a barricade flying aside and the sound of war cries being bellowed came as Arland's men forced their way into the library, but the mist faded away, returning them to the real world before they could witness the inevitable carnage that had doubtless ensued in the room centuries ago.

"A rebellion?" Levi said, eyes narrowing. "What were they talking about?"

"It is a shame that the book is so badly burnt," Arthur muttered sadly, moving towards the table, gingerly stepping over a pile of bones that was probably once the archivist and leafing through the tome the archivist had been desperately penning in; it was heavily damaged, burnt and rotted, the parchment crumbling with age and the text written in it all but illegible. His mind, however, was whirling with confusion at what they'd just witnessed. 'The Wardens were engaged in rebellion against a tyrannical king? Why does that sound familiar?' he thought, musing on how what had happened here years before was similar to the situation of the present day Wardens. 'Not that I should be surprised; the nobility of Ferelden then clearly held a lot of respect for Sophia, even after she was forced to take the Joining, and the Grey Wardens would be the closest thing to an army...'

Levi seemed to be thinking the same thing. " Let's see if we can find more records. If Arland was as big a monster as they say, I can't blame my great-great-grandmother for starting a war against him, I'd just like to know she was the victim, not the perpetrator"

None of the books in the library, however, were in any better condition than the open tome on the table, all damaged by fire, woodworm or simply the passage of time. At Leliana's suggestion there might be further records kept further in, the group set off through the door out of the library leading to the upper floors of the fortress. Still, Arthur could not help but wonder 'If the Wardens here were engaged in rebellion, what else might have happened here?'.

#######################

Rounding the bend up the last few stairs, they found themselves in a wide open room, the fortress's great hall. The second they entered, Arthur could feel there was something very wrong about the whole place. A strange triptych sat in a corner of the room, and before it, the air twisted and swirled, and that acrid, bitter taste in the back of his mouth that implied magic being present was all but overpowering now.

'This is the source of the Veil's weakness" Morrigan remarked. Even as the words left her mouth, the blue magical mist that heralded another glimpse at the events that had unfolded here poured out of the triptych in the corner. The magic swirled and twisted around them, obscuring their vision for a few moments before it parted, and the group saw another part of the historic last stand that once raged here at the Keep. Sophia stood at the front, defiant and furious, her own bravery and ferocity driving her men to greater heights of courage, knowing they had nothing left to lose. Arthur and the others watched in amazement as the final battle unfolded.

"Make them pay for every inch!" Sophia roared, anger and desperation mingling in her voice. A soldier came running at her; Sophia ducked under the swing of his sword and slashed him from chin to crotch with her own blade. Turning her attention away from the battle for a second, the Warden Commander bellowed at her lieutenant, the mage they'd seen at her side marshalling the Wardens for battle. "Avernus, we need you!"

The mage began to chant in the language of ancient Tevinter "Nelatep obresooth sythan net bekon!" his hands flexing and closing as he channelled the magic into...something, a dark black hole in the ground before him. As the incantation reached its climax, there was a crack like a thunderclap, and burning clawed hands burst from the dark pit the mage had conjured as the sinuous, fiery forms of dozens of rage demons tore their way into existence.

Panic ran through Arland's men as most broke formation and fled back down the stairs to the castle's entrance. "Andraste's blood, WHAT?" one man screamed at the sight of the horde of demons bearing down on them.

"More, Avernus!" Sophia cried, a look of manic jubilation replacing the fear as the Wardens' new allies tore through Arland's men without mercy. "Whatever it takes!"

"Kalee ai benfotus victus!" Avernus roared and more demons poured into reality, overrunning the last of Arland's men, but just as it seemed the Wardens and their fell allies might win the day, it all went horribly wrong.

"No!" Avernus cried as a newly-summoned rage demon seized a young mage by the waist and hurled her across the room, smashing her skull against a wall. Another demon slashed a Warden from shoulder to hip with its claws and a third set another Warden ablaze, the man screaming as he was cooked inside his own armour.

"No! I command you, fight the king's men!" Avernus yelled desperately.

One of the demons whirled round to face him, a malevolent gleam in its opaque eyes. "Fool," it roared, its malformed face all but touching Avernus's. "So much death, suffering, and... oh, yes, "blood." The demon snarled as an afterthought. "The Veil is torn, Avernus... your soul is mine!"

The mage staggered backwards, horrified disbelief in his eyes. "Acolytes... retreat, now. The battle is lost." He turned on his heel and ran, leaving the last of the Wardens to be torn apart by the ever growing horde of demons. The last thing the group heard as the vision faded away was the sound of Sophia's voice screaming the same word "AVERNUS!" and then the vision was gone, returning them back to the real world...just as a low hiss rang out.

"Oh no, more demons!" Levi cried as a bloated, twisted creature forced itself to its feet; an abomination, its eyes aflame with anger, its clawed hands opening and closing. Arthur couldn't fail to notice this abomination was in a somewhat more...decrepit condition than the ones from the Circle, the flesh of the mage the demon had possessed heavily rotted and withered, the bones of the ribcage and spine visible and the tips of the fingers and toes worn away to bare bone. Behind it, a number of skeletons limped into position around the abomination, forming a square around the creature, magical energy curdling in their clawed fingers as they remembered the magic they had wielded in life.

Arthur charged forward as the abomination limped towards him, batting aside its outstretched claws and drove his sword into the creature's chest, before kicking the abomination off his sword. The beast staggered back a few steps, before looking up at them and grinning gleefully. It nodded to one of the skeletal mages who stood behind it; energy darted from its withered hands to the abomination, and as Arthur watched, the gaping sword wound closed with incredible speed. Alistair smashed his mace into the abomination's back, eliciting a pained screech accompanied by the clear sound of bone snapping as the red-steel weapon crashed into the abomination's exposed spine.

"That's done it!" Alistair cried jubilantly, but the abomination whirled round, dealing him a vicious uppercut to the jaw that sent him flying halfway across the hall. Looking at the abomination's back, Arthur could see bones realigning and snapping back into place as the skeletal mages put the creature's spine back together. Leliana dodged back under a swing of the abomination's fist and sliced one of her daggers backhanded across the back of the abomination's left leg, hamstringing it, but the enraged creature merely kicked out, its foot connecting with Leliana's lower back and sending her sprawling, completely oblivious to the wound the bard had given it.

"Don't waste your time on the abomination; kill the mages!" Morrigan yelled. "Without them, it can't be healed!" the witch shrieked over the crackle of lightning in her hands as she shot a spell at one of the skeletons, blasting it into pieces. The others took her advice, Alistair getting up from where he'd fallen and smashing his mace into the abdomen of another skeletal mage, snapping it in half at the waist. The magic reanimating the corpse kept its upper half thrashing on the floor for a few more seconds, before Alistair brought his weapon down on its head, smashing its skull to fragments. Leliana drove her daggers into the gaping mouth of another skeleton, and with a twist of her wrist, severed the undead mage's head at the jaw.

The magic faded away as the last mage was turned to ice by Morrigan and reduced to icicles by a well-placed kick from Leliana and Arthur directed his full attention to the abomination. Bereft of the healing aid of its undead minions, the abomination seemed berserk, lunging at Arthur. This time, however, when he leapt back from the abomination as its claws scratched out at his face, vainly scrabbling at the visor, and stabbed it in the chest, the wound stayed open this time. Alistair brought his mace down on the abomination's back, the creature all but collapsing to its knees with an agonised shriek as the bones shattered, rendered all but paralysed by the impact. Together, Arthur, Leliana and Alistair surrounded the abomination, hacking, smashing, stabbing, kicking, punching and inflicting all other manner of injuries to the ancient monster until finally the abomination was still.

With the undead and their possessed master destroyed, the group took a moment to recover, Morrigan using her magic to treat minor wounds, the group applying poultices to those the witch's healing abilities couldn't deal with and keeping a wary eye on the gap in the Veil, looking for any sign of movement or anything suspicious that would suggest something coming through. For a moment, Arthur regretted not bringing Wynne along, but in truth, she had gone through enough with the mission to Honnleath, and frankly, considering how she'd collapsed on the road, Arthur was no longer certain if it was a good idea for the older woman to be journeying with them much longer. 'I will know what's going on when I next see her' Arthur swore privately.

Levi was sat a short distance away. He was unharmed, having ducked for cover back down the stairs the second the abomination had made its presence known, but the shell-shocked look on the merchant's face told Arthur Levi was bearing wounds of a different kind.

"The Wardens summoned demons, and my great-great-grandmother...she knew" he muttered to himself sadly. Arthur could understand the merchant's disappointment in his ancestor, that the image he'd had of her as a hero wrongfully condemned for doing nothing more than her duty having now been tarnished, perhaps irrevocably by what Sophia had done in the name of victory.

"Despite your foolish preconceptions, the Grey Wardens do not prohibit blood magic" Morrigan snapped, directing a withering look of disdain at the merchant. "The Order wields whatever weapons it can, makes use of whatever is available to defeat the darkspawn". Arthur glowered at her unfeeling bluntness as always, though fortunately Levi barely heard what she said.

"I thought my family was better than that" Levi murmured more to himself than any of the others "but answers may lie up ahead" he concluded, gesturing to the staircase up which Avernus had fled to save himself all those centuries ago.

"Let's find out" Arthur replied as the group made towards the stairs to the next level of the fortress.

###################

"Stop! You have slain many of the demon ilk to get here. This one would propose a deal"

The group had already been caught off guard when they'd charged into the study by the overpowering stench of rotting flesh, so it took a few minutes for the words to permeate into their heads. The room they found themselves in, though dark and unlit, appeared to be some form of office. Arthur heard something crunch underneath his silverite boots; looking down, he was disgusted to see the floor was carpeted with the desiccated corpses of hundreds of flies. The noises of sickened horror from behind told him the others were just as revolted by this as him. 'I can only imagine what this place is like in summer' he thought 'with the heat and such an adequate food source; this place would be like it was buried under a plague! But why are all these flies here?'

"Urgh, this is disgusting!" Leliana moaned, sounding rather squeamish. "If any of those things get in my shoes..."

"Enough" Arthur silenced them, remembering they weren't alone in the room. "And why should I speak with you?" he addressed the speaker.

"Because this Peak is mine. As are all who dwell in it" the voice replied.

The creature that turned round to face them had once been female, but was now only just recognisable as such. Only scraps of black hair clung to the thing's skull, the rest having fallen out in great clumps. Her pale skin looked thin and leathery, like old parchment, and in some places, it had worn away to expose the flesh or even bone beneath; parts of her cheek bones were protruding through the skin and the cartilage of her nose had all but rotted away, leaving a gaping orifice in the centre of her face. Maggots and grubs writhed in parts of her exposed flesh, and Arthur could only think 'I understand why there are so many flies here'. Her eyes were gone, either rotted or torn out by carrion eaters, but in their place, eldritch blue light gleamed, unnatural and unsettling, yet worryingly familiar.

And the heavy plate armour she wore, despite being tarnished and heavily damaged, was still recognisable, particularly the griffin emblem emblazoned on the breastplate...

"Great-great-grandmother?" Levi whimpered.

The creature that had once been Sophia Dryden smiled wickedly, baring a mouth full of yellow, rotted teeth. Several were missing and the rest had been filed to points. "This one is the Dryden. Commander. All of these things".

"Levi, I think your great-great-grandmother's been possessed" Alistair remarked.

"Either that or she's really let herself go" the merchant replied, a spot of dry wit returning to him, before a more serious "My great-great-grandmother's been dead for centuries. I don't know what this thing is, but it's not her"

"And why would we trust the word of a demon?" Morrigan snapped.

"What is one woman-child compared to your might?" the Sophia-demon chuckled. "Strike me down if my terms offend. A fool this one would be to betray the Wardens!"

Arthur weighed up his options. If this creature was, as she said, in control of the undead and demonic forces present at Soldier's Peak, provoking her might only end in them drowning under a tide of walking corpses and rampaging demons. 'I think it might be better if we talk our way out of here, get a better understanding of what's happened here, then come back and destroy this demon'.

"Then tell me of this 'deal'" the words came out of Arthur's mouth almost mechanically.

"You can't be serious!" Leliana protested, her tone aghast. "Arthur, there's nothing left of Commander Dryden, she's possessed!"

The walking corpse looked round at the bard, its eyes narrowed angrily at the interruption. "Your fledgling should mind its place. Meek, subservient, quiet. This one will answer your questions".

Turning away from them to stare wistfully at a portrait hanging behind her desk, the Sophia-demon spoke "The Soldier's Peak keeps me trapped here. This one has seen so many wonderful, so many tantalising things in the Dryden's memories. This one would see the world for herself. Just let this one go into the world. In return, this one seals the Veil...but without me, the Veil will grow weaker; more demons, more misery. You choose one of my kind or many" the demon's tone as it finished sounding almost like an ultimatum.

"What would you have me do?"

"Into the tower you must go, and destroy everything that dwells within" was the demon's reply.

"Destroy what?" Arthur asked. The demon's rotting lips pulled back from its mouthful of fangs, hissing angrily as it roared "The magics, all moving things, the VERY STONE IF YOU HAVE THE POWER!"

Wanting more than ever to get out of the office before the demon turned violent, Arthur raised a placating hand and replied "Very well. I'm off to break the tower then"

Sophia clapped her gauntleted hands together gleefully. "Good, good. Nothing must live. Gnash stone with teeth if you can!". Nodding blithely and backing away quickly, Arthur chivvied the group out of the late Warden Commander's office and hurriedly pulled the door closed behind him.

################

"I hear you. Don't interrupt my concentration"

The sound of a quill scratching on parchment was extremely loud in the silence of the chamber they'd entered, which looked like some deranged combination of a dungeon and a laboratory. Cages in which long-dead corpses rotted lined the walls, and dusty book shelves bearing numerous, heavy leather-bound tomes on a multitude of subjects-blood magic, demons, darkspawn- were in place, but that was not what had caught Arthur's attention. What held his attention was that in this room, the presence of the Taint was exceptionally strong.

The speaker was sat in a high-backed chair facing away from them, scribbling away at whatever it was working on. After a few more moments, there was the sound of wood scraping against stone; the figure sitting in the chair pushed itself away from the desk it was sitting at, making ready to face them.

"Even now, the demons seek to replenish their numbers. Are you to thank for this temporary but welcome imbalance?"

Arthur gagged in shock, and judging from the noises behind him, he wasn't the only one. The decaying, still moving corpse of Sophia Dryden had been bad enough, but the creature standing up from its seat and moving towards was equally as horrific. At first glance, Arthur had thought it to be an emissary, a hurlock mage, based on its size and build. Its skin had the same leathery, pallid-green look of a darkspawn's, its head bald and marked with feathery bristles that looked to be developing into the head-crest that crowned the skull of an emissary. Clawed hands swept back the voluminous sleeves of the robes it wore, and Arthur felt his hand slipping to his sword.

But yet, while it resembled an emissary, there were subtle differences. The voice in which the creature spoke was not the guttural snarl of a hurlock, but a refined, cultured voice, suggesting an individual of high birth and intellect. The robes it wore were not the mishmash of fabrics and armour fragments that most darkspawn mages garbed themselves in, but made of navy-blue silk, still fine despite being torn, frayed and heavily worn in places.

And the eyes that regarded the intruders into its sanctum with curiosity and intrigue were not the dead-white eyes of a hurlock, but wide and bright, a light shade of blue in colour and strangely familiar...

And then Arthur recognised them...wide with astonished fear as a demon angrily snarled that his soul was theirs.

"The old Warden mage? Avernus? You're still alive?" Arthur questioned.

"Only just" came the reply. "I have only a short time left"

"Careful" Leliana cautioned, her face set in a look of distaste. "This...man has dabbled in matters forbidden by the Maker. He may look frail, but don't trust him"

Avernus's mouth contorted into an angry snarl, only making his resemblance to an emissary more complete. "So the Maker told you that, did he? Short-sighted men forbade my research, girl, not any god. Bah, enough!" Avernus waved a dismissive hand and turned his attention back to Arthur. "Why are you here? What is your intent, Warden?"

"How do you know I'm a Warden?"

"A combination of my research and blood magic" Avernus replied. "But even without that, who else would brave Soldier's Peak?"

"We've all seen what you've done, Avernus. Your experiments" Arthur snapped, remembering the journal they'd found outside, detailing all manner of unnatural, unholy experiments performed in the sanctum before them. Avernus, however, seemed unrepentant.

"They were necessary. Every tool, every iota of information needed to defeat the foul demons was justified. As a Warden, you should know this!" Avernus angrily growled back.

"Necessary?" Alistair scowled. "Having to relieve yourself after an eight-hour ride is necessary. But there's no excuse for summoning demons!". Avernus's death-head features contorted into a look of utter disgust at that particular mental image. "Charming" the mage muttered.

"And this is why you've kept yourself alive this long, slowly letting yourself devolve into the monster you are inside?" Arthur retorted. "Moreover, how have you survived this long?"

"The Chantry foolishly forbids blood magic, but there is so many secrets to be discovered. As my body decayed, both because of age and...the taint, I found ways to extend it. Alas" the mage finished with a sigh "they can only go so far".

"Blood magic, summoning demons...you had to know resorting to such tactics was foolhardy, to say the least!" Alistair cut in.

Avernus merely gave an indifferent shrug. "Perhaps, but it was survival. There was no other choice. For months, I researched the darkest depths of the Fade, prepared the summoning circles. That moment was a triumph of demonic lore; dozens of demons called forth by my hand!" Avernus cried, a look of jubilation and zeal in those mad eyes, before it faded into the bitter memory of the disappointment and failure that had followed. "But with so many variables, I suppose calculation errors were inevitable"

"Commander Dryden knew of this?" Levi asked, speaking for the first time in a long while and looking thoroughly shocked. Avernus barely spared him a glance before replying with another indifferent shrug "She gave the order, but I would have summoned the demons anyway. Only under Wardens can true magical research continue! A chance to discover the lost secrets of ancient Tevinter!"

Leliana let out a noise of outrage as she cut in, fury in her voice as she snapped "Are you really that much a fool? Don't you remember how that ended? The corruption of the Golden City? The birth of the darkspawn, the very evil your Order was created to destroy?"

Avernus gave a derisive snort. "Chantry lies told to subjugate mages. To keep them docile"

Leliana's face went red with outrage, her voice choking with anger at such a grievous insult to something she held so dear. "How do you know the Chantry is wrong, you monster?"

"And how do you know they are right, girl?" Avernus angrily growled back. "Their dogma would have you swallow a great deal for cold comfort"

"Enough!" Arthur cut across the arguing pair and pointing a condemning finger at the old mage. " That does not matter. What matters is that everything that happened here was your doing. You're to blame for all of this. There are some things you just do not do"

For the first time, subject to the baleful glare of those cold blue eyes, Avernus quailed a little. The smug air of superiority, of self-righteousness faded a bit, and the tainted mage looked to the floor. One might almost say he was ashamed.

"From a Warden, that means something. So old, so tired. Please, give me a chance. Let me undo my greatest mistake".

A soft cough caught their attention; Levi had plucked up the courage to speak again. "Before we go any further, there's something I must ask. Master mage, ser" Levi asked in a quiet voice, clearly uncertain how to address a creature like Avernus "The name Dryden's been worth less than dirt for more than a century. Do you have any proof that Sophia Dryden was a hero?"

Avernus looked at Levi with genuine interest for the first time, if only, Arthur suspected, glad to have a distraction that took attention away from him. "The boy who braved the mist. So you heeded the call. And you are a Dryden as well?" the old mage chuckled. "The cosmos has a sense of humour!"

"Your call?" Alistair enquired. The others also seemed intrigued.

"He was but a boy when he entered the tunnels below the Peak, his heart pure, his character certain. In dreams, I gave him the keys he would need. He would be my deliverance"

"Just answer Levi's question" Arthur snapped. Avernus looked contrite again, clearly not wanting to be on the receiving end of more condemnation, and turned back to Levi.

"Your great-great-grandmother...was the best of us. Brave, charismatic, fiery, utterly devoted to the fight. But still we lost. We fought a tyrant, you know? So full of vigour then, so blind to consequence. But proof?" the tainted mage concluded sadly. "There's none to be had". Levi's head dropped sadly, his expression

Leliana sidled up to the merchant and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Levi". The merchant looked up, a sad smile on his face replied "I had hoped...no it doesn't matter. But thank you, miss".

"What happened here?" Leliana asked swiftly, the story-teller in her curious for the history despite her dislike of Avernus.

Arland shrugged his shoulders dismissively "What use would story-telling serve? The tyrant Arland is long dead, as are our noble co-conspirators and the grand rebellion. Sophia's corpse may walk and talk, but she too is no more"

"How was Arland a tyrant?" Alistair asked, clearly intrigued or disgusted by the brutality of his distant ancestor. Avernus's lips pulled back from his teeth into an angry snarl, adding to his resemblance to a darkspawn.

"He ruled with poison and fear! His treachery pitted noble against noble in terrible battle. We thought him a monster; we gathered allies to rebel!" But Avernus's fervour dimmed a little then, his angry expression slipping into a more mournful, disappointed look. "But the toll of years have erased our failure, hasn't it? It seemed so pressing then, but the kingdom lives on".

"What became of the rebellion?"

"Too many mouths to feed" Avernus sighed. "Even sorcery can only go so far. So we met up with Teyrn Bartholomew Cousland of Highever; with him on our side, we had a chance of victory. Instead, the king's guards ambushed us. Commander Dryden and I barely escaped with our lives"

"The Couslands almost rebelled?" Arthur interjected, curious despite himself. "My family?". Avernus raised an intrigued eyebrow at this.

"Is it? You lost a great many family members that day. I saw the teyrn's head on the meeting table...with an apple in its mouth" Avernus said disgustedly, spitting at the memory. "Arland's butchers no doubt slaughtered enough Couslands to make those he let live pliable"

"And what became of Arland himself?" Arthur asked. Avernus made a face as he continued "The Mad King did not deign to come and command the slaughter himself; had he dared to show his face here, I would have torn him apart long before Sophia got the chance. But no, Arland was content to let his thugs do his dirty work for him while he languished in Denerim and indulged himself, along with his court of sycophants, in his favourite debaucheries. I didn't hear what happened until many years after, locked away here as I was, but from what I've learned, sometime after his commanders reported victory at the Peak- though whether they actually slaughtered all the surviving Wardens or were too afraid to linger and content to let the demons do their work for them, I do not know- Arland decided to celebrate his 'great triumph'" Avernus spat with sarcastic venom "with a hunt; clearly, he wanted to celebrate a massacre by killing something himself. One of his sycophants invited him to partake of the rich stocks of wild game in the Wending Woods, and Arland took the bootlick at his offer"

Arthur frowned. 'The Wending Woods in Amaranthine?'. "Who invited him?"

"Some backwater noble" Avernus retorted with a dismissive wave of the hand. "Howe, I believe his name was. Ah yes, that was it...Arl Alfred Howe".

'Why am I not surprised to learn a Howe was involved in a plan to murder his betters?' Arthur thought hatefully

"What happened?"

"Too late, we learned a valuable lesson; one hidden dagger at night is worth a hundred drawn swords by day. As soon as they were along in the forests, Howe shot Arland in the back of the head with a crossbow. Arland's Kingsguard had been bribed not to intervene; the assassination must have been planned while Arland was busy devoting all his attention to crushing the Wardens. Not that it did any good; killing a tyrant does not guarantee the end of a tyranny. Arland's sycophants and his enemies tore Ferelden apart as they carved out spheres of influence for themselves. It was many years before the country had any semblance of order...just in time for the Orlesians to take over" the old mage finished sadly.

"The time for questions is over" Arthur curtly said. Avernus nodded solemnly and looked the younger Warden in the eye, his expression resolute.

"So be it. My only request: if justice or vengeance drive you, stay your hand until the demons have been dealt with. Then...I will accept whatever judgement you feel I merit".

"Until the demons are destroyed, we are allies" Arthur nodded. "Sophia wanted me to kill you; we must deal with her".

"You are wise not to trust her" Avernus said approvingly. "We will deal with her first, and afterwards..." his voice trailed off, unwilling to broach the likelihood of what would happen to him. "We must go to the main hall. There, I will repair the damage I caused so long ago..."

##################

Sophia was waiting for them when they re-entered. Her reaction to who was with them was pretty much what Arthur had expected.

"He lives!" Sophia howled as she caught sight of the old mage standing beside Arthur. "You were supposed to kill him!"

"Ah, the architect of my downfall, so clever in your deceit!" Avernus countered with a wicked smile. "And what has it brought you?"

"Treacherous Wardens, at every turn!" the demon snarled, its host body angrily fingering the hilt of its sword. "This one will crush you!"

"Were you really so stupid as to believe we would actually work a deal with you, demon?" Morrigan sneered. The demon whirled round on her, the fury in its eyes all but manifest as it roared "YOU ARE WORMS! YOU ARE OFFAL! THIS ONE WILL SEE YOU SUFFER!"

"I'm finished hiding!" Avernus retorted, anger and hatred entering those blue, only-just-human eyes. "After these long, bitter years, let it be over...once and for all!"

"This one will give you the end you crave!" Sophia shrieked, her gauntleted hand flying to the hilt of her sword and ripping it free of it sheath before Avernus's mouth could close. The silverite sword was in mid-swing towards the old mage's neck when Arthur intercepted it, the Green Blade parrying the strike. Sophia roared angrily and pulled back her blade for another stroke, but Arthur slammed his shield into her face. Staggering back, Sophia let out a deafening screech, and the bones of numerous Wardens lying where they had died began to rise again, to fight for their Commander in a sense again.

"You will die, all of you!" Sophia howled. "This one will feast on your entrails and make a goblet from your skull!" the demon bellowed as she brought her sword down on Arthur's shield, sending him staggering back a few steps. The others had their own foes to face, Alistair smashing a skeleton off its feet and bringing his foot down on its neck, smashing the vertebrae with ease. A trio of skeletons lunged at Morrigan, but with a feral roar, the witch crouched and shouted an incantation; seconds later, the skeletons were smashed aside as a huge, black bear lashed out with its clawed paws, crushing limbs and tearing off heads. Arthur had barely a second to both admire Morrigan's shape-shifting abilities and wonder where Leliana, who had somehow vanished, was, before Sophia brought her sword down on his shield again.

Arthur tried to bash her with his shield but as he was half-way through the attack, Sophia's gauntleted hand snapped out, seized the rim of his shield and dragged him towards her. Too close to use their swords, Sophia seized his plated shoulders and drove her forehead into his face. As Arthur reeled from the blow, her grip shifted to the front of his breastplate, and with considerable strength considering her withered frame, Sophia bodily hurled Arthur across the chamber. As he tried to get to his feet, winded and shocked, Sophia advanced on him, her sword in hand, and when she was standing over him, raised her sword above her head, about to bring it down for a decapitating stroke. Arthur raised an arm in a vain effort to protect himself, but the blow never came; a pair of daggers appeared out of nowhere, stabbing into Sophia's neck. The Warden Commander dropped her sword, her hands flying to her neck as Leliana re-emerged from the shadows, her hands holding a dagger on each side of Sophia's throat.

"Don't even think about it" Leliana whispered in Sophia's ear. The possessed woman snarled angrily, but before she could act, Leliana pulled her blades towards her, through Sophia's neck...and the Warden Commander's head was sheared off as cleanly as if by guillotine. As she fell, so too did her undead minions. Arthur took a moment to recover his breath, as did the others, before racing after Avernus who was already far ahead of them, racing down the staircase to the great hall.

####################

With Sophia destroyed, the group raced back to the main hall, Avernus in the lead. Before them stood the triptych and the rip in the Veil before it. Avernus looked warily at the sight, as if still unnerved by the memories of what had happened there so long ago.

"With so many of her minions destroyed, the demon was no match for us. But here is the source of the Veil's weakness. I will unravel the summoning circles I drew so long ago, but you must defend me. Waves of spirits and demons may come through; dispatch them".

Swiftly, the four of them took up position in front of Avernus, the old mage stepping over the corpse of the abomination to place himself at one of the summoning circles. "I feel them. They are coming!"

The air rippled, and a ghastly shriek rang out as the latest onslaught of demonic forces poured forth. Avernus took his place by one of the summoning circles, shouting phrases in the language of magic. A shade came charging from the Fade straight at Arthur, its fists swinging towards his head, but Arthur ducked away and drove his sword, its blade shimmering with telekinetic energy thanks to Morrigan, into the spirit's heart; it gave a gibbering howl and guttered out of existence. The others also put down the shades facing them, Leliana and Alistair batting aside or dodging around scrabbling claws to split skulls or pierce hearts, while Morrigan settled for blasting the spectral creatures back to where they came with lightning and fire.

The next wave of attackers were rage demons, howling and screaming for blood. By this point, two of the summoning circles had dissipated and Avernus was on the third. Morrigan clicked her fingers and the energy enfolding her companions' weapons became ice. The group quickly went to work, hacking through the fiery creatures with ease due to their ensorcelled weapons

By the time the old Warden was on the last circle, only one creature managed to make it through the sealing gap in the Veil; a desire demon. The creature stood little chance against four prepared combatants, and its twisted essence was banished back to the Fade barely seconds after it had entered the real world. As Arthur drew his blade from the demon's chest in a spurt of black ichor, he saw that the air no longer rippled and shifted before him, and the acrid, bitter taste in the back of his throat was gone. The others seemed to have come to a similar realisation.

"It's over" Avernus sighed, wiping his leathery brow in relief "The Veil is stronger now". Arthur looked briefly at Morrigan, who nodded in confirmation of the old Warden's statement. Turning a humble but resolute expression to Arthur, Avernus stood before him, his hands clasped in front of him, awaiting his sentence.

"I said I would submit to judgement, and I shall. Can I be allowed to experiment in peace?"

"Your crimes were horrific, but they were somewhat mitigated by the fact you were trying to prevent even greater, and that you sacrificed so much of yourself to keep the demons caged here. I will not kill you, but I will insist you make amends. You will work on ways to assist the Grey Wardens, but you will do so in an ethical manner. No more blood magic, no more sacrifices".

Avernus's eyes widened in surprise; clearly he'd been expecting justice in the form of a sword against his neck. Still, he recovered himself quickly. "With what little time I have left, I will do this. It may take months or even years for this to reach fruition, but when it does, I will send for you. However, there is something I may be able to give you now to assist your efforts..." Avernus said, reaching into his robes and pulling out a small glass phial, sealed with a cork and full of a familiar reddish-black liquid.

"What is that?"

"The culmination of my research. The fruits of my labours; everything my experiments were meant to achieve. The contents of this vial will unlock the power of the taint that resides in your veins!"

"What was the purpose of your experiments?" Morrigan enquired curiously.

"To stop the demonic tide. To counter the mistakes of the past. Blood magic comes from demons; they could counter every bit of lore I possess. But the darkspawn taint: that is alien to them...and it has power"

"What sort of power?" the witch pressed on, clearly intrigued now. Avernus replied "The Wardens use it merely to sense darkspawn-a triviality, a minor cantrip- but my research has suggested so much more, hinted at even greater heights. This knowledge has not only saved Soldier's Peak; through it, the Grey Wardens could grow even more powerful!" Avernus replied. "I leave it in your hands" the old mage finished as he gingerly placed the phial in Arthur's hands.

Arthur stared at the phial in his hands, uncertain what to do. It was the culmination of decades of horror and evil, but the power it might provide...'Could it be of use in defeating the archdemon and the darkspawn'. Alistair looked nonplussed about what to do, but Leliana looked aghast.

"Arthur, no! You can't mean to use...he obtained it through years of torturing and experimenting on his fellows! He's a monster; anything he created should be destroyed!"

"What he says makes sense" Morrigan interjected, shaking her head at (to her mind) the bard's foolishness. "If a single spell could win the battle, I would not question its source"

"Your charming companion is quite correct, Warden" Avernus added with an approving nod towards Morrigan. "You'd do well to heed her advice. If I may speak seriously, regardless of the methods I used to obtain it, this will help you. Even locked away as I am here, I know what is going on; a new Blight is upon us, and the power of the taint will be of great use against the darkspawn; to turn the power within their own blood against them would be quite poetic, I think" Avernus chortled softly. "More than that, I have heard this...usurper, this tyrant who sits upon the throne. From my sources, I know he is as much a monster, and just as dedicated, if not more so, to the destruction of the Grey Wardens as Arland. He has his weapons; with this, we shall have ours"

The notion of proving to Loghain the Grey Wardens still had power, that they were not as he seemed to think a relic of another time best forgotten, or puppets of Ferelden's erstwhile conquerors appealed to Arthur, as did the notion of having another weapon with which to battle the Blight with. As the forming of a decision came to his mind, he turned his full attention to Avernus.

"If I use it, what will I become?" he asked as he toyed with the cork sealing the phial.

"Our salvation" Avernus replied. "And perhaps...our future". Arthur nodded in acceptance of this explanation, and before anyone could say more to dissuade him, uncorked the phial and drank its contents in a single gulp.

"There will be pain. But with it comes knowledge" Avernus explained. "And knowledge..."

"Is power" Arthur completed the old maxim with a smile, his teeth flecked with darkspawn blood but his eyes aflame with a new light, one that implied understanding, and a grasp of new, unforeseen strength.

########################

The Arl of Denerim's estate

Rendon Howe watched as his elven food-taster ensured that his evening meal was safe for consumption. He knew full well that more than half of Denerim's population wanted him dead, the regent and the queen not least among them. Howe knew full well the only reason Loghain hadn't placated the wolves that made up Denerim's peasantry by throwing him to them was because the teyrn needed his political mind and strategies-Maker knows an old soldier like Loghain would never comprehend such strategies as removing threats to his regime like that fool Bryce and that stubborn old goat Eamon by himself- and the Queen...well, Howe was fully expecting her to send any number of painful deaths to his door any day now. The fact that Loghain had left him in charge of the city while the regent and his forces marched to take battle to the Bannorn dissidents massing at Winter's Breath had not gone down well with many in the city, the Queen in particular.

Howe was not an idiot; even a fool could see the Queen despised him, and while she was furious with Loghain for essentially usurping her power, Rendon did not have the benefit of being related to Anora to grant him some protection from her outrage. The food taster was merely one of a number of precautions Howe had taken; he now wore a protective vest under his clothing to deflect the blade of a potential assassin, and had another elf open his letters before he read them, in case any tried to kill him with a poison on the parchment or the envelope; it had been done before, Rendon remembered full well of how during the occupation, the method of sending letters that had the corners smeared in arsenic to high ranking Orlesian officials had been quite popular amongst the rebels, considering how many Orlesians used to lick their fingers when turning pages. Rendon swore that he, at least, was not going to be fooled by such means; 'I've achieved too much, and still have so much to do, for it to end with a poisoned cup or the blade of a hired thug!'

But Anora was not his greatest problem. The greatest annoyance in his life, in spite of everything he'd achieved-reclaiming the terynir of Highever, the right of the Howes, from those thieving Couslands, the arling of Denerim and countless other awards, positions and accolades besides, still remained alive and a constant thorn, not only in his side but his patron's, which only served to exacerbate Loghain's antipathy towards him.

'Arthur-bloody-Cousland'.

Rendon cursed Bryce and Eleanor's 'precious pup' with every fibre of his being. His life would have been so much simpler if that little bastard had died along with the rest of the Couslands, but no, instead he'd survived and now, with his new status as a Grey Warden, seemed to be going out of his way to undo Howe's carefully worked schemes a piece at a time, and in the process, only undermining his already tenuous partnership with Loghain.

"Every little thing that poxy Grey Warden does that affects my plans to save this nation" Loghain had sworn privately to Howe after learning that the Circle had defected to the Grey Wardens "I shall hold you personally responsible for, since your inability to do a job properly is the reason he's still alive to make a mess of things!".

Howe had been furious at that accusation; 'I could just as easily say the same of you, my lord' Howe thought sarcastically. "After all, had you managed to 'do the job properly' at Ostagar, my minor failure at Highever would have been irrelevant! And really, is it my fault that interfering old bastard Duncan dragged that whelp out from the castle instead of leaving him and his precious parents to burn? Is it my fault he somehow managed to survive Ostagar? My fault that the so-called 'master assassin' the Crows sent me turned out to be an incompetent knife-ear who couldn't even manage to kill a witless boy and a royal bastard?' Howe griped to himself. His hatred at the Cousland brat's interference was not the only reason he wanted the boy dead; try as he might, that sliver of fear that wormed its way into his heart after reading that whelp's promise of vengeance for what had happened at Highever still lingered, the fear that a Cousland would always pay his debts.

'I swear, you little bastard, when I get my hands on you, you're going to wish you'd died in the ruins of your precious home! I will make you suffer for every indignity you've caused me! And then we'll see how bravely the last Cousland dies!' Howe swore to himself. The destruction of the last scion of the House of Cousland, one of the worst of a bloodline that had caused him and his schemes nothing but for trouble for numerous decades, would be a sweet thing indeed.

His anger dissipated slightly as he remembered his evening meal, safe to eat and very appetising, was growing cold. But as he made to dig in, there was a knock on the door of his study.

"Enter, and be quick about it".

The elf he was using to check his mail quickly slipped into his study, bowing and scraping in a pleasing manner. Rendon could not help but wonder if the elves scurrying around the estate would be as so swift with their fawning if they knew he and Loghain were making a fortune from the 'arrangement' with the Tevinter 'healers' working in the Alienage. 'Not that they will' Howe knew; even if it was the best, if not only way to replenish the dwindling funds in the treasury-'Not including my little 'deductions' for services rendered to the Crown' Howe thought, thinking of the small fortune in silver ingots ready to be shipped to Highever in the next few days- slavery was still anathema to Ferelden as a whole, and just like he had no intention of dying to poison or an assassin's blade, being torn to shreds by an angry mob outraged by such a betrayal of the tired old notion of freedom Ferelden stood for, even for a few pithy knife-ears, was low on his list of priorities.

"This letter arrived for you, milord. It seems important and so I thought it best to bring it to you with haste"

Looking at the elf askance, Howe waved for him to leave and examined the letter. It was written with an elegant hand, using ink of expensive quality on fine white parchment; whoever sent him the letter was clearly an individual of means. The envelope was just as intriguing; the elf had left the wax seal intact, which clearly bore the heraldic emblem of a fox-a heraldic device not used in Ferelden- and bore the scent of a flowery perfume that screamed the word "Orlais". Rendon began to comprehend why the elf had brought it to his attention with all due haste; if Loghain got wind of this...the regent's hatred for Orlais all but blinded him to reason, stymieing several lucrative and beneficial possibilities for Ferelden. If the teyrn found out of any potential collaboration with Orlais...

'Still, he already despises me, and what Loghain doesn't know won't hurt him..." Howe reasoned. If the information contained within could be used to his benefit...Rendon quickly unfolded the letter and read:

'For the attention of Rendon Howe, Arl of Amaranthine, Arl of Denerim, Teyrn of Highever,

Ser,

We do not know each other, but it is my hope we shall. I come to you with a proposition that I feel would be of mutual benefit to the both of us. The information I am about to divulge is of incredible value, and I present it to you since my sources tell me you are a man of considerable intellect and appreciation of such methods, unlike your Teyrn Loghain, who while by all accounts skilled in the craft of war, is a man of blinkered vision, hindered and limited by his prejudices.

Allow me to introduce myself; my name is Marjolaine Delacroix. I am a marquise of considerable means in my homeland and while I know of the dark past between our nations, I hope that my proposition will, with your aid and intercession with the regent, go some way towards healing the rift between Ferelden and Orlais.

I am aware that you and your regent are seeking to capture a pair of Grey Wardens loose in your nation. I would see them captured too, for my own reasons. Among the companions of your wanted traitor Wardens is an Orlesian woman, an ex-bard formerly in my service. She is also a traitor. Two years ago, this woman was arrested for selling Orlesian state secrets to Nevarra; she confessed her treason and was condemned for it, but escaped before the sentence of death could be carried out. She fled to Ferelden and, I have discovered, took refuge in the Chantry at Lothering, masquerading as a priestess until shortly after the recent slaughter at Ostagar, when this traitor absconded in the company of these Grey Wardens after helping them evade capture at the hands of your Teyrn Loghain's men.

It is my belief that this woman seeks to absolve her treason by currying favour with the Grey Wardens. I would see this churl punished, both for her treason against my homeland and the stain her betrayal brought on my house's honour, and if I can deliver to you the traitors you seek for our mutual benefit, I would be most willing to do so. To this end, my agents have been tracking her and her Grey Warden escorts for some time. My intent is to have my agents lure our quarry into an ambush; either my men will kill our quarry or I can use this to lure them into an arena of my choosing. My sources tell me that my traitorous former servant has formed an attachment with the Grey Warden from Highever; should she be threatened, this Warden's chivalrous attachment to her, created by whatever lies she has concocted to ensnare him, will ensure he and she race into the trap I am preparing. All I would ask of you is that you have your forces ready; while I have many resources at my disposal, there are few men at arms with me at present; given the current political climate, I felt it wise to limit the number of troops I brought with me for fear of causing an incident.

If our plan succeeds, then we will both be in a position to enjoy great favour and reward, both here in Ferelden and Orlais. Should you wish to partake of this alliance, send your response with a messenger and tell him to wait by the statue of Andraste outside the Grand Cathedral in the Market District. One of my agents will find him.

I look forward to the beginning of what promises to be a lucrative partnership between us.

Marjolaine, Marquise of the House of Delacroix

Rendon smiled to himself. Shouting at one of his servants to bring him quill, parchment and ink, he felt the first stirrings of a feeling he hadn't enjoyed in a long time; jubilation. 'I warned Bryce that letting that old bat fill his boys' heads with stories of bravery and chivalry was a foolish waste, that it would end in disaster, and here's the proof! That stupid boy's lust for glory and inability to say no to a pretty face will see him in a shallow grave!'

Another servant brought him the parchment and Howe quickly wrote out his reply.

'To Marjolaine of the House of Delacroix,

You were most wise to bring this matter to my attention; while Teyrn Loghain is a fine man in many regards, he is sadly lacking in many others, I fear, particularly in matters of intrigue and politics.

Proceed with your plan and contact me when you have the Grey Wardens and this collaborator of theirs you seek in your power; I will make a gift of the girl to you, and rest assured, Teyrn Loghain will hear of your great service to Ferelden.

Likewise, I look forward to the beginning of a lucrative partnership between us.

Rendon Howe, Arl of Denerim & Amaranthine & Teyrn of Highever

Rolling up the scroll and instructing one of his men-at-arms where to take it, Howe gleefully rubbed his hands together. If all went well, he'd have Arthur Cousland and this other Warden, this bastard of Maric, locked up in chains and awaiting the regent's pleasure, not to mention an Orlesian whore he could pass off to keep Loghain's rabid prejudices happy. As for this Marjolaine Delacroix...if Loghain didn't find out about this, there would be no need to tell him, and Rendon knew he would have secured a potentially lucrative alliance with an influential ally. If the regent did find out, he'd simply hand this Delacroix woman along with her fellow whore over to Loghain as Orlesian spies captured by Howe's men to satisfy him. 'There'd be no shame in using the bitch's scheme to my own ends; it's an art I perfected a very long time ago!"

As the soldier departed for the meeting, Rendon Howe gleefully rubbed his hands together.

'I hope you enjoy your brief moment of glory, Arthur Cousland, because it's going to be over soon enough!'

###############################

Story Notes:

1. The idea to make Avernus look like an emissary came really from re-reading DA: The Calling the other day, where (spoilers) it implies Wardens who know their Calling is upon them and yet delay going to the Deep Roads begin to mutate to the point where they physically begin to resemble darkspawn. Since Avernus has probably delayed going to his Calling by a good few centuries, I'd say he'd be a dead spit for an emissary by the time the group got to him. Besides, it seems more scary to me than having some decrepit old man pacing up in the tower, and it'll be a nice lead-in to that 'What happens to you after the Joining?' camp conversation with Alistair Arthur will be having next time.

2. While Arland's ultimate fate is unknown, I think it not unfeasible to believe that some ambitious noble took advantage of the distraction provided by the attack on the Wardens to plot their own method to bump off the Mad King.

See you next time in Denerim!