Blood mages and slave traders
"Wow. He stooped even lower than I thought he could go."
Alistair said. Punctuating his words with a thrust to an archer's chest which pierced both his armour and his torso. Dain hadn't thought that Loghain could get much lower than regicide but apparently selling citizens into slavery was an acceptable outcome of civil war. The female elf covering her leader's ass had barricaded herself behind a row of traps and was raining arrows upon them all. Alistair frowned and quickly brought up his shield as a projectile whined towards his head. It struck his shield denting it hard. Leiliana skipped close to him to use his shield for a breather,
"If you cover me I'll do something about those traps."
Dain heard the exchange and saw the two move as one towards the obstacles as he backhanded across a soldier's stomach. Alistair was bracing hard at each arrow strike, wincing at the strength of the strikes. The shield was strong and big, but not big enough to cover both of them. Time wasn't a luxury they had. Something needed to be done and now. Frustration at the slowness of their passage and the head rush of the forthcoming Landsmeet helped him make up his mind.
"Morrigan hold this."
He half tossed her the sword, the electricity in her hand dying abruptly as she managed to catch the heavy sword and keep her staff in her hand.
"Dain, you…!"
Braced behind his shield, Dain grabbed the shoulder plate of a not quite dead enemy and dragged him over to the traps. Alistair yelped and grabbed Leiliana to pull her back out of the way. It wasn't a proper throw, but it was enough to have the soldier tripping the pressure plate of all three traps. They shut with terrible snaps, crushing bones and armour, splintering fragments through skin. It stopped the fighting, Devera looking at Dain with shock. He was surprised to see it; she worked for a magister master and traded in the flesh of her own kin. He half turned to Morrigan who offered his sword; he took it and turned back to Devera who was looking at him still with horror and anger on her face. He shrugged but before anyone moved to continue the fight a bolt of lightning fired just past him, giving Dain a shock that fizzed through his armour before slamming into Devera, her bow not doing anything to shield her. Dane bit his lip but leapt forward to continue the fight. Alistair was at his side and it was he who put Devera out of her misery with a quick downwards thrust. They stood there panting hard, Leiliana averting her eyes from the utter mess of the man still held in the sprung teeth of the traps.
"Would you rather it t'was one of us?"
"Just because I've seen it before doesn't mean that I like or am used to it."
Leiliana snapped back at the witch. Who took no umbrage to the words or tone used. Dain snorted,
"I would prefer not to have that happen again…."
There was something else he needed to say but no matter how much he knew he had to say it, it was still galling.
"I apologise for before."
Eyebrows rose, Morrigan's narrowed perhaps sensing an ulterior motive. Grimm whined at her, his wheedling gaze making the witch shuffle a little further way.
"Very well. Shall we find the one responsible?"
Dain nodded following the witch as she opened the door. Grimm trotted after them.
The screams and cries from the elves shoved into cages was terrible. As the group entered and silently walked down the stairs, the caged elves tried to hold their cries behind hands and with clenched eyes. A bald man with a long beard arose from perusing the elves. He wore robes, heavy fur around his shoulders. Along the seams and across the chest heavy gold decoration shone.
"Ah. Guests."
Dain had sheathed his sword, but felt a shiver as he looked at the mage before him and it made him want to have the weapon in his hands. The mage stopped in the centre of the room, arms at ease at his side as he looked at each one in the group.
"Well met Warden. I am Caladrius, I have heard much about you and your friends."
Dain's eyes narrowed at the ease at which Caladrius had introduced himself and that with which he carried himself. Even with the soldiers in the room with him, the mage had to be feeling some pressure from the five before him covered in the blood of those he had ordered to keep the flow of slaves steady. Grimm's growl hadn't stopped even when Caladrius spoke, cropped ears lying flat on his head, teeth bared and waiting.
"How do you know who I am?"
A smug smile lifted Caladrius' lips,
"I am well informed of the happenings of the city of late. As it transpires, the dealings with the Regent are now often flavoured with the word 'warden'."
While it was proof of Loghain's further treachery Dain knew he would have to have something solid to show Eamon. But Caladrius had turned his gaze to Alistair,
"And not just that, but we are in the presence of the royal bastard who would be king."
Alistair snorted,
"The slaver calling me the bastard. Fancy that."
"But in hearing of you I have also heard of your prowess, and that of your comrades. So I propose I give you the letter of Loghain's that you came here no doubt seeking, in return I leave with my profit and my merchandise."
It was still and quiet again. Dain just held Caladrius' eyes. To the others it may have looked like he was actually musing on accepting the deal. But inside Dain's mind was the fact that Caladrius had made the offer like he thought he would accept it. Nothing in Dane's history had given him a predilection for slavery. His mind flicked back to that night at Highever, Iona and her speaking of her daughter…what was her name? Amalthea? Amy…Amethyne! His gaze lost Caladrius' and he looked at the elves shrinking back from him.
"I have a counter proposal for you."
A hand rose to brush his beard, an inquiring smile on Caladrius' face.
"Interesting…?"
Dain's reply was punctuated by a savage grin.
"I kill you and take everything for free."
Alistair knew it. As soon as Dain's words had finished, regardless of whatever Caladrius' reply would be, words or action, he had taken a deep breath and had focussed his Templar abilities on the Tevinter before him. Dain spun, gathering a protesting Morrigan moving to take her out of the range of anything Alistair was about to unleash. She understood, able to keep her feet when he dropped her,
"Kill him."
"With pleasure."
Dain though, turned to take on the sword bearing soldiers, clashing weapons not as loud as the brutal rushing sound of Alistair's cleanse, and the strike of Morrigan's magic, punctuated by her laughter and the screams of elves.
"Wait, wait. Stop!"
It was barely enough to check Dane's strike. He glared down at Caladrius, the mage covered in blood, weeping cuts on his arms where he'd tried to conjure a defence through blood magic. Dain wasn't much cleaner, eyes the brightest thing on his face, shining through the mask of blood. Caladrius clambered at the stone floor, trying to sit up. As if to beg. But Dain knew, no matter what he said, if he hadn't taken the Tevinter's offer previously, there was nothing he could say to have him accept the next.
"Please, how about I…"
The sword wiped through the working throat of Caladrius mid word. Whatever he was going to use to barter gone in an exhalation of blood and air.
"No."
This was a different type of brutality that Caladrius' now unemployed guards hadn't seen. But now they were fighting purely for their lives. The fighting was still hard, guards throwing everything they had left at their enemies. But it wasn't to be. With the final swift arrow finding a slot of unarmoured armpit, the last soldier fell and the room was still. Dain propped his shield on Caladrius' blood stained body and turned to the cages. Finesse was useless and unneeded; instead he destroyed the locks with heavy movements.
"Is Cyrion here? Or Valendrian?"
"I am Valendrian. Cyrion was taken before."
The faint voice belonged to an elder elf, face lined not just with age but heavy sorrow. He exited the cage and stood before Dain.
"Do you need healing?"
He was surprised to see a smile on the elf's face.
"No, no. A rest in my own home will suffice. Though I fear sleep could be a long time coming. I am the elder of the Alienage."
"My name is Dain, I am a Warden. I came here at the… request of Shianni."
Laughter now.
"Request? Shianni? But I think you also came to find evidence to the rumour of the regent."
There was no point in lying or putting up a pretence.
"Yes. But liberating the alienage from these is also a happy outcome."
Dain didn't even look at the corpses around him as he reduced them further to slabs of meat.
"So we really are free to go."
"Yes. The Chantry will be informed of the Tevinters, and hopefully there will be some movement on the plague."
"We can but dream. I will see to my kind, Dain. But I would be honoured if you could come to see me tomorrow. I would like to speak with you again."
Dain watched the still silent elves exit their cage, shepherded by Valendrian out the now unlocked door. Leaving Dain and his group alone in the room. He turned to see Leiliana rifling through Caladrius' clothes a small pile of treasures at her side.
"The letter is…here."
She offered it to him. But Dain felt loath to touch it, even with his hands in gloves, as if the paper was soaked with blood. But he did, unfolding it, eyes darting from side to side as he read of Loghain's damning.
"Eamon will need to see this."
"He will."
Then Dain realised that was the last piece. The last step before the Landsmeet. Alistair caught his eye as he glanced up, a grin on his face; he must have realised the same.
"You ready for this?"
Dain wasn't sure what answer he could give, but Grimm did it for him. The mabari, still licking his stained mouth yipped in what could only be called affirmation.
Dain both did and didn't want to return back to the alienage. The feeling that had pushed him to not listen to Caladrius, that spur of goddamn guilt when he thought of Iona and the blue eyed daughter she had left behind here in Denerim… He didn't know what to say to her, if she was even alive. Between the purge of the alienage, the slavers and the plague. Standing next to the Vhenadahl tree, stretching into the sky, seemed to be an anchor and he paused here. The yards were empty, but he could hear the sounds of joy behind closed doors, but also the sound of mourning.
"Do you reckon the children climb it?"
Alistair said from his elbow; face tilted back to gaze into the branches.
"I think it's more of a representation of their past, rather than a plaything."
"Still. Looks like fun."
Leiliana took Alistair's arm and gently pulled him away, afraid he would drop his weapons and make good on his question. Dain turned to follow after them, promising himself that on his return he would ask Valendrian about Amethyne. Tomorrow.
