We head up to the royal palace. If it weren't for Rispy's story, I might have been more surprised to see the face-branded guards standing watch at the doors. Even as it is, they get dirty looks from passersby, but they don't react in the least.
Inside the palace, we gain an audience with King Endrin. The old dwarf looks very weary, like he has a heavy burden on his shoulders that's adding twenty years to his age.
"Honored Grey Wardens," Endrin says, "I bid you welcome in Orzammar. I assume you are here to spread word of the Blight? I have heard news of the spread of the darkspawn on the surface. These are trying times for all of us, I believe."
"We come to seek your aid against the Blight," Duncan says. "This treaty..."
Endrin shakes his head and holds up a hand. "There's no need for treaties between us. The dwarves will send aid, of course. I shall send the Warrior Caste, and tell them that if they wish to reclaim their honor, they must fight to stop this Blight. Ah, but you do not need to hear about Orzammar's troubles."
"I already have, Your Majesty," Duncan says. "My condolences for the loss of your youngest."
Endrin sighs. "I keep asking myself if I should have seen it coming..."
"Bhelen was a sly one," Rispy says. "He was probably planning it for years, with no one the wiser."
"And you have my eternal gratitude, and the gratitude of House Aeducan, for uncovering this plot and sparing the lives of my elder two sons," Endrin says.
Duncan says, "There is another matter I wish to address. I did not come merely to request troops, but also to recruit for my order as well." He turns to Rispy. "Before these witnesses, I would like to extend a formal invitation to Rispy to join the Grey Wardens."
Rispy bows politely to Duncan and says, "I would be honored."
"He will be a fine addition to your order, I believe," Endrin says, nodding.
"While we're here, I would also like to see what Caridin has been up to," Tom says. "I hear that his advancements are quite interesting."
"I can show you the way to his workshops," Rispy says.
Rispy leads us out of the palace and down to the commons, and into one of the shops.
"Welcome to Janar family armory," says the dwarf at the counter. "Oh, it's you, Rispy."
"The Grey Wardens wanted to see Caridin's workshop," Rispy says.
"You know the way," Janar says. "Just be sure to close it up behind you, if Caridin doesn't want random people wandering in."
Rispy goes over to move aside the shelf concealing the secret tunnel into the old Carta tunnels, and leads us inside. "Yeah, Caridin's workshop is located in the old Carta hideout. Don't want anyone stumbling upon what they're really working on down there until they're ready to release it."
The room we emerge in at the end of the tunnel very much resembles a Shaper laboratory straight out of Terrestia. There are beakers of fluid, glass pipes and funnels, vats of bubbling liquid, sparkling crystals, magnification devices, even essence pools. I would be really interested in finding out how they got all of this to work with lyrium and local ingredients.
"Rispy!" Dagna says, coming up to us. "Ah, we have guests? I'm afraid Caridin is busy at the moment, in the middle of a delicate mixture."
"Dagna, these are Grey Wardens, and among them are those who gave me the information necessary to build this place," Rispy says. "They were quite interested in seeing what we have done with it."
"Well, in that case, let me give you the guided tour," Dagna says.
She proceeds to show us the equipment that they've built, massive and delicate projects built with the assistance of a couple of Artisan Caste families who specialized in glasswork and other relevant skills. She shows us a small firestalker that they have shaped. It's a little different from the fyoras that I was used to seeing in Terrestia, but the differences are fairly minor.
"You are capable of creating life?" Sten asks.
"We are," Dagna says proudly.
"How?" Sten asks.
"It was initially believed that this sort of work would require magic," Dagna says. "But that is not actually strictly true. While only a mage can shape essence using their own will, it is perfectly possible to use devices to achieve the same effect. Better, in fact, since they can be more closely calibrated and controlled."
"So this is not truly magic," Sten says thoughtfully.
"Correct," Dagna says. "The details, however, are going to be a secret that we will guard as closely as you Qunari guard your gaatlok." She smiles at him. "The power to create life is not something that can be trusted to just anyone."
"Understandably," Sten says, nodding approvingly to her. "It surprises me to see that sort of wisdom in these lands."
Caridin emerges from a side room, his huge metal feet clanging against the floor. He looks to us, and says, "Ah. I did not realize we had visitors. Rispy, I believe some introductions are in order."
"My friends, this is the Paragon smith, Caridin," Rispy says, gesturing toward the metal golem. "Caridin, allow me to introduce Duncan, the Commander of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden; the mages Thomas Hawke and Kirlin Surana; Sten of the Beresaad of the Qunari; and this crazy man here who has too many names. Lexenmilot Skywalker Majere Renneck Chelseer Dragonblood. Called Ashkaari by the Qunari. His title is Stormseeker in the trade tongue."
"Atrast vala, honored guests," Caridin says.
"They're the mages I told you about," Rispy says. "The ones who gave me the notes on the Shaping arts. Or Lifecrafting, as you've decided to call it."
"Yes, there is no need to confuse it with what those in the Shaperate do," Caridin says.
"Caridin, the Grey Wardens have recruited me to help combat the Blight," Rispy says. "Is there anything that you require that I should arrange for before I go?"
"No," Caridin says. "Stopping the Blight is more important. Leske can handle things while you are gone."
Things have definitely changed here if a Paragon is so casually relying upon the casteless. Have Rispy's actions really had that big of an impact?
Rispy chuckles. "I think he's going to have his hands full as it is. The king is sending the Warrior Caste up to fight the darkspawn on the surface in hopes of them redeeming themselves for this latest debacle."
"I would like to examine your notes," Tom says. "I am interested in seeing how you have adapted the techniques, and what you have done with your devices."
"Given the fact that it was your own research that we based our work on, you will be one of the few outsiders who will freely be able to share in our advancements," Caridin says. "Come with me, and I will show you what we have learned."
The next morning, we set out from Orzammar and head south, aiming for Redcliffe as our next stop along the way.
One morning, I wake up early to see Tom propped on his elbow, looking at me thoughtfully. "What is it?" I ask.
"Nothing," Tom says, chuckling. "I don't think the others are up yet. What do you say we go and engage in some wanton slaughter?"
"Who, specifically?" I ask.
"You want to save people, right?" Tom says, grinning wryly. "What do you say we go and save Brother Genitivi? He has probably already gotten himself in trouble again, as he was looking for that urn even before Arl Eamon became ill."
"You want to go kill the dragon cultists?" I say, raising an eyebrow. "I kind of liked them, though..."
Tom chuckles. "They are, however, the sorts of people that we could cheerfully massacre them all, without anyone caring."
"Hmm, point," I say. "Spare the children, though." I grin at him.
Tom laughs lightly. "Fine, fine, we spare the children. Let's go."
I get up and get dressed, and leave a message for Kirlin and Duncan in the main room of the tent on the way out letting them know that we will be out on some side business and that if we're not back by the time they're ready to leave, we'll meet up with them again in Redcliffe.
Tom and I Apparate to the road leading up to Haven, pull out our wands, and casually stroll up the path. Somehow, I think that this is Tom's idea of taking me on a date...
"Who goes there?" says the guard. "You should turn back now. There's nothing for you in Haven."
"Why do you even bother with this job if that's all you're ever going to do?" I wonder. "Not many people are going to come wandering up this path, and if they do, it's not like you're going to be able to do much to stop them if they're inclined to do harm."
"I can call for help!" the guard exclaims.
"You do that, then," I say. "Because you're going to need a lot of help. Crucio!"
I think of all the people that they've killed over the years. The hapless knights of Redcliffe in the other timeline. Whoever else might have wandered up this way by misfortune, whether exploring the mountains or simply lost. How they tortured Brother Genitivi and killed his assistant. These people do deserve to die.
But mostly, now that I've justified it to myself, I think in gleeful delight of the prospect of utterly destroying this cult.
The guard's pained screams bring more villagers, and Tom flicks his wand to put up a shield and deflect their incoming arrows. I grin broadly, and let myself slip into combat mode, throwing out lightning and curses to destroy every enemy in sight.
We cut a swath to the Chantry, and once Father Eirik is dead, I go over and pick up his medallion for whatever it's worth, and check out the secret door. Sure enough, Brother Genitivi is inside laying on the floor.
"Are you here to finish me off?" Genitivi says.
I chuckle. "We're here to save you, Brother Genitivi. What is your condition?" Tom goes over to examine him and put some healing magic into him.
"I'll be alright, I think," Genitivi says. "You, however, are a sight for sore eyes. I thought I would never again see anyone who wasn't from this mad village."
"Can you walk?" I say, and Genitivi stands, nodding. "Come on, let's get out of here."
"We can't leave yet!" Genitivi says. "The Urn of Sacred Ashes is right up this mountain! It's so close, and I've worked my entire life to find it..."
I chuckle. "I didn't say we were leaving the village, just the building. Of course we're going to find the urn. And there's a lot more cultists who need to die, too."
"There are a lot of them, and they're dangerous," Genitivi says as we step out of the Chantry. "There isn't anyone else with you? How do the two of you expect to defeat so many cultists?"
"We're mages," I reply. "And they don't have any templars here."
"Apostates?" Genitivi says. "Not that I'm about to complain, mind you, even if you are."
"Grey Wardens," I say.
"Technically, I am an apostate," Tom says with a chuckle as we make our way up the mountain. "But I'm working with the Grey Wardens to combat the Blight."
"There's a Blight?" Genitivi says. "And how did that bring you here?"
"We were in the neighborhood, so we thought we'd drop by," I say lightly.
I let Genitivi open the door, and we head inside into the temple covered in snow and ice.
Tom taps Genitivi's head with his wand and casts a Disillusionment Charm over him. "Don't make any sudden moves, and they probably won't notice you."
"Ah, thank you," Genitivi says. "Strange, it's not as cold in here as I would have expected."
"I put a warming spell on you, too," Tom says. "You'd best stay here out of sight for the moment. We're going to go ahead and clear out the cultists."
"Good idea," Genitivi says. "I certainly won't mind a chance to examine this place more closely. There's so much that could be learned about Andraste's life here..."
Tom and I leave him there for the moment and move on. There are more cultists up ahead that need to be killed, after all. And there aren't any children here to worry about. Well, that wasn't too much of an issue back in the village, either, as the children had been shuffled out of sight quite quickly once we initiated hostilities.
While I'm pouring out the damage, Tom is focusing almost exclusively on protective spells. Perhaps it's just as well, as otherwise, I have a tendancy to forget about defending myself when I'm cheerfully slaughtering things. That has been the cause of more of my deaths than I care to count.
Once we reach the section with the dragon hatchlings, I stagger a little and pull back to myself, and set about to stun them rather than kill them. They're just babies, after all. I'm not going to start killing children.
We come to the end of the tunnels, and Father Kolgrim says, "Halt! You have run these halls with blood, but you will go no further! Tell me, stranger, why have you done this? You have spilled the blood of the faithful and defiled hallowed ground!"
"You don't really have much room to talk," I say. "How many have your people killed over the years?"
"We must protect our sacred charge at all costs!" Kolgrim says. "The Maker forgives us for sins undertaken in his holy name."
"Hello, Ser Kettle," I say. "They call me Pot. We're both hypocrites. Unfortunately for you, I'm a more powerful hypocrite than you." I grin broadly and give him a wild look, and shout, "Avada Kedavra!"
A flash of green light strikes Kolgrim dead in an instant. Maker, what a rush. I haven't really cast that spell in a while, and I'd forgotten how good it feels. I giggle, giddy and light-headed for a moment, and then notice that Kolgrim's companions are attempting to attack me and bouncing off of Tom's shields. I flick my wand and send out some more spells to finish them off. When they are all dead, I lean back against Tom, panting softly.
Tom strokes my hair lightly and says, "It has clearly been too long since you were able to indulge your appetite for destruction, if you're high on dark magic from that."
"That felt so good," I murmur.
"So much better than being miserable and angsty, isn't it?" Tom says with a wry grin, putting an arm around my waist.
"I can see the appeal," I say, chuckling.
"Forget regret," Tom hisses in my ear. "The multiverse is our playground. We can do anything we wish. We can save or destroy, help or harm, explore the world or stay home and read. Our every desire can be at our fingertips. We have but to reach out and take it."
I really can't think of a good argument to counter that. But then I think back to why I'm doing this all in the first place. To save my family. To save myself. To destroy an enemy whose power I do not know how I might be able to match.
"Let's go," I say, pulling away. "There is a dragon ahead of us..."
I would rather not fight Iyaza, but I don't know how she will react to me. No help for it but to find out. Tom stuns me, and we step out onto the windy mountaintop. The great purple high dragon is perched up upon a cliff nearby, looking down at us, watching us as we emerge.
"So, Iyaza," I say, too quietly for her to hear from up there. "What do you intend to do?"
As if in response, the dragon flies down from her perch and lands directly in front of us, blocking our path. She cranes her neck, looking at us intently, and snarls low in her throat.
"I wasn't planning on fighting a dragon today, and would rather not have to kill you," I say. "So what will it be?"
Such a beautiful, magnificent creature. Iyaza raises her head and roars, and then snaps at us with her teeth.
"It would seem that you wish to fight, regardless," I say, tumbling out of the way. "Very well, then. Fight this!"
I haven't practiced shifting into a dragon very often at all, but it still comes smoothly and without difficulty. I am a dragon. I am merely shifting into my true form. Admittedly, a true form that is still a young dragon nowhere near Iyaza's size, but a dragon nonetheless.
Iyaza stops and stares at me in surprise. Whatever she might have expected, that wasn't it. Still, I am threatening her territory, I suppose, and she does not back down or reconsider for long. She swoops in, and we clash in battle of teeth and claws, fire and lightning. Tom supports me from the sidelines with his magic, making up for my smaller size and weaker body.
I might be smaller, but I'm bloody vicious, and running high on the thrill of battle. I strike with fangs and talons, darting in and out, and a good strike rips a long gash in my enemy's wing, rendering her ground-bound. No mercy. No regrets. Tom and I finish her off in a spray of blood and lightning.
After a minute, I shift back into human form, covered in dragon blood that is not my own.
"That was an excellent test," Tom says. "I managed to break the bonds. I don't know if it would be quite as feasable if we weren't killing Urthemiel ourselves, but at least I cleared up that one."
"Was that the real reason why you wanted to come out here?" I ask.
Tom chuckles. "Part of it."
"Let's go pick up Brother Genitivi and show him that urn, then," I say. "And then not spill dragon blood into it and then murder him."
We go to head back around to the front of the temple. Brother Genitivi hasn't moved far from where we left him, as Tom reveals when he cancels his spell.
"Should be all clear from here on out," I say. "Shall we go find the urn now?"
"Maker, yes," Genitivi says.
We head through to the entrance to the gauntlet, into the building and up to where the guardian awaits.
"Welcome, pilgrims," says the guardian. "Ah, it is you. You have returned, and you have brought more pilgrims with you. I need not ask anything further of you, but I must ask a question of your companions before you may proceed."
"Let's get this over with," I say.
"Brother Genitivi," the guardian says. "Do you sometimes feel that your life has been wasted, and that no one will ever take your work seriously? That even if you come and tell them you have found Andraste's final resting place, that no one will believe you?"
"I'll admit that I have doubts sometimes," Genitivi says. "But I have held my faith in the Maker, and my long path has finally paid off. I will not turn back now."
"Very well," the guardian says, and then turns to me. "Ashkaari." I'm startled to hear him call me that. Have I been Ashkaari for too long already? "Do you feel that the trust others have put in you is undeserved? Do you fear that you will not be able to live up to their expectations, and that their wishes will go unfulfilled?"
"My life is my own," I say. "I will do my best to do what I have promised I will do, and that is all. I will not allow imagined, unreasonable demands upon my soul weigh me down."
The guardian nods. "I have heard your answers. You may pass into the Gauntlet. If you are shown to be worthy, you may approach the Urn of Sacred Ashes."
Tom and I already know the answers to the riddles, and so we pass through to the next room.
Here, I find myself facing a kossith woman, and I recognize her as the tamassran who taught me most of what I know about the Qun.
"Ashkaari," she addresses me. "Do you think you have betrayed the Qun? That you were merely using us to learn what you could from us, before you discarded us to run off and do whatever you wished?"
"That was not my sole intention," I say. "I find some peace in the Qun, but ultimately, I believe it to be imperfect. I will not allow its flaws to destroy me."
"And who are you to think that it is flawed? Are you so arrogant as to think that you alone can find perfection?"
"No," I say. "But I will seek it nonetheless, even knowing that I am chasing a dream that cannot exist in reality. Still, I did not go to Qunari lands just to steal their secrets. Had you called me Karashok instead, I would have gone to fight and die without question. But instead, you called me Ashkaari, and bade me to learn, to teach, to research, to discover. And so I did."
"But would you have done so because it was asked of you, or because you chose to?"
"Because I chose to do what was asked of me," I reply. "There are always choices. Even if that choice is to live or to die."
"Existence is a choice," she says. "Suffering is a choice. Life is a choice. Go, then. Go on to your choices, Ashkaari. May they bring you whatever peace they may."
The Qunari woman vanishes, and I step forward into the next area. Here, I find myself staring back at another version of myself, surrounded by many floating masks. An apparition, a hallucination, an illusion, or what? I don't know. I don't think it really matters at the moment.
"So you have returned, man of many names, wearer of many masks," the other me says. "Which one is the true us, underneath all of the deceptions and lies, underneath all of the roles we play?"
Neither he nor the guardian said anything about Cassie this time, I note. Perhaps I have actually come to finally accept things as they are with her, or that it merely is not much of a worry upon my mind when she is alive and present in this world. No, instead they bring up other issues that constantly nag at the back of my mind.
"I am myself, nothing more and nothing less," I reply. "The true me is the one that only my soulmates might ever see. And I feel no shame in that. That is simply how it must be."
"There are always choices," says the other me. "We could have chosen to be honest with everyone. Perhaps it would have taken a lot of explanation each time, but it was still our choice to deceive. It was easier, we tell ourselves. It avoids complications. It prevents many potentially unpleasant outcomes. Are these merely things we tell ourselves to justify our choice?"
"Fine, then," I say. "I chose this path. I do not and will not regret that choice. I will sing and dance and wear each mask of another life like an actor putting on a performance."
"And if others care about us, or they are loyal to us, they do things for us, they give us things, thinking that we are someone who we are not, believing that we are someone else, do you not feel guilty that their feelings are misplaced?"
"I refuse to feel guilty for others reacting to the role I play as I intend them to," I say. "That's the entire point of it, after all."
"And one more question I have of you... Will we allow our memories to destroy us?" the other me asks. "Or will we turn to Tom's offer and let us forget that which causes us pain?"
"That's not a question," I say. "Well, it is, but it's a question of intent, of a future that is yet uncertain. Nothing is set in stone. I don't intend to allow myself to be destroyed no matter what. But how can I say with certainty what will or will not happen in the future? If I come to the realization that I cannot handle it, then yes, I will indeed turn to Tom. I don't think that anyone was meant for anything, or that there is any rhyme or reason in the universe, but if there was ever to be any meaning, I don't think a man was meant to live and remember a thousand lifetimes. Better to forget than to be driven mad by it."
The apparition of me gives a nod, and says, "When you look into the mirror, at least you are capable of facing your true self. Do not shy away from who you really are, whatever mask you wear, whichever path you choose."
The other me vanishes at that, and I look over to my companions and ask, "Tell me, out of curiosity, did you see the same things I did, or ones of your own?"
"Unless you were hallucinating about Sister Theohild too, then I would guess that you saw something else," Genitivi says.
"Sister Theohild?" I say, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes," Genitivi replies. "She advised me something fairly incoherent involving peas and ham. I think I spent entirely too long under the tender ministrations of the mad cultists..."
"I see," I say, blinking, and then look to Tom. "I won't ask what you saw."
Tom chuckles. "I'll tell you later when we're alone, if you like. But only if you return the favor." He grins at me.
"Deal," I say.
From there on, we make our way past the gratuitous bridge puzzle again. When we come to the wall of flames afterward, I glance aside at Genitivi and start stripping.
"Keep your clothes on, Brother," I say. "No offense, but I don't need to see you naked."
Genitivi chuckles and shrugs. I toss aside my clothing and step through the flames, and the guardian appears again as the fire vanishes.
"You have passed the tests of the Gauntlet and proven yourselves worthy," the guardian says. "You may approach the Sacred Ashes."
I go to put my clothes back on and gesture to Genitivi. "Go ahead. This is your baby, so to speak."
"The Urn of Sacred Ashes..." Genitivi says reverently, walking up onto the dais. "I can hardly believe that I have come this far. I am... undeserving of the honor of being in the presence of such a holy artifact." He kneels before the urn and quietly begins to pray.
"Hmm," Tom says thoughtfully, staring about the area intently. "Yes, I was correct the last time I was here. Very high concentration of magic. A powerful node, a mountain of lyrium. Incredible feats of light magic could be accomplished here."
"You aren't still considering the Ritual of Purification, are you?" I ask.
"If I were, I would have brought a circle of seven mages, including as many light-aligned ones as I could get who were willing to do it," Tom says. "But no, Kirlin is right, it would not do any good. But this time and place is definitely something to keep in mind if any sort of light ritual is required."
"It's a thought," I say.
Genitivi finishes his prayer and comes back over to us. "Thank you, my friends, for your assistance, and for bringing me here. There is so much that can be learned here. I must share this knowledge with others! Pilgrims must be allowed to come and visit!"
I smile at him. "Of course. The roads are dangerous these days with the darkspawn. We can escort you back at least as far as Redcliffe, although we'll probably be heading to Denerim ourselves after a couple stops after that. Unless you're wanting to stay here and study? We can send someone this way once we get to Redcliffe."
"I think it would be best to travel with you," Genitivi says. "An expedition must be planned. This is the discovery of an age!"
"Then let us be off," I say. "The urn has been here for ages. It will still be here later. We do still need to fight the Blight ourselves, though. Is there any chance that you could use this to rally the Chantry to give us support against the darkspawn?"
"They should be doing that regardless," Genitivi says. "But I shall see what can be done. The sooner the Blight is ended, the better."
"Let's head back through the village first," I say. "If there are any orphans out there, we ought to see about getting them to Redcliffe as well."
"Spare the children, you said," Tom says with a smirk. "There were probably at least some villagers who went and hid instead of attacking us, if they weren't completely stupid. But there are probably plenty of orphans. Provided they didn't run off into the wilderness."
