Part 7: Strength

Chapter 55: Reasons

After the fifth session of getting beaten with a wooden pole, Aedan felt as though the pain dulled- then they brought out the metal rod for the sixth. He didn't like that one as much, he thought as blood dripped down his maimed body. He did however prefer it to the waterboarding. But definitely not the metal spikes.

He concentrated instead on the hazy anger lingering in his head. His nostrils flared. Howe's words rung in his head- his family's bodies were just laying around for the beasts to feast upon. They deserved better. From the very beginning they deserved better. The entire time that he had been away, he had left them rotting in the cold. He needed to give them funeral rites and a proper pyre. Aedan gritted his teeth as he felt blood trickle down his torso. He was going to get out of here, and he was going to take care of what he should have a long time ago.

His torturer slammed the rod against his back again. Aedan couldn't ascertain the man's expression through his black hood. Perhaps the torturer actually enjoyed this line of work. Perhaps he was ashamed. Either way the man had some reason to torture Aedan. Maybe it pays well, thought Aedan, Enough so that he can do work he hates- or perhaps he did it at a lower cost and truly believed he was doing good work. Every man had his reasons to do terrible things. This man had his. Aedan had his- and as he saw out the corner of his eye Loghain walk through the dungeon door, Aedan tried to fathom the reasons Loghain had.

"He's quite durable," grunted the torturer, "Still won't talk." He brought down the metal rod upon the side of Aedan's torso. Aedan clenched his teeth as he felt one of his ribs break. The Teyrn whispered in the guards ear. The guards nodded at everyone else in the room, each one saluting Loghain in turn before marching out the door. Aedan let his throbbing head fall back towards the ground. "Was wondering when you'd come by," chuckled Aedan before breaking into a fit of coughing. Red flecks splattered against the decrepit stone flooring.

Loghain unhooked Aedan's handcuffs from the ceiling and kicked him down to the ground. Loghain reached into the bag and threw a flask and some bread at him.

"Eat," growled Loghain, who drew his sword at Aedan. The general was not so dumb as to be in the same room as Aedan without his weapon. "They tell me you have not eaten in awhile."

"I'm surprised," remarked Aedan as he gulped down the dirty water in the flask and stuffed the bread into his mouth. Aedan still could not taste things, but his overwhelming hunger overrode his sense of taste. The water soothed his parched throat. "I'd think in the good guard, bad guard, situation, you'd be the bad guard, not the one giving me food and water."

Loghain held his hands behind his back and began to pace the cell. "It seems beating the answers out of you won't work in time before the Landsmeet, leaving only one other method: appeal to your better judgement, if you have one." Loghain turned sharply on his heel and his foot snapped down on the pavement. "Where is my daughter?" he asked with a booming voice.

"I keep telling you, I don't know. I saved her from Howe, then you captured me as we helped her to escape." Aedan took advantage of finally being able to sit and leaned against the cell walls. Loghain dragged a wooden stool in front of Aedan. He sat himself down on it to face the bloodied Warden.

"Do you love this country?" asked Loghain, his elbows on his knees and leaning his nose against his clasped hands. He tapped his index fingers together as he watched Aedan process the question. His mind a little scrambled, Aedan took several seconds before answering: "Of course."

Loghain spoke with the quiet, throaty tone of a weary soldier: "I love this country. These people are resilient and hard working. Our communities are strong and supportive. They care not for niceties and overly fancy garb like the Orlesians. We do not dress up politics and call it 'the Game', as though it were something to win. For Fereldens, politics has always been a means to an end of strengthening our country and helping its people. Unlike our neighbors to the north, the Free Marches, we have put aside our differences time and time again to unite against common threats. There is a strength in the Ferelden blood unlike any nation to ever stand in Thedas."

The teyrn picked his sword back up. He placed the edge of his blade inches away from Aedan's throat. "I love my country, and I will not see you or anyone else destroy it. Surrender...give me command of the armies you've gathered and turn yourself in."

Despite the raw pain that lingered in his body, Aedan still had enough energy to scoff with hostility. "This country is tearing itself apart because of you...because you let Ostagar happen!" he shouted, his body moving forward as he did.

Loghain inched his sword forward a bit to deter Aedan. Aedan paused, looked at the edge of the sword, and leaned back against the cell walls. Loghain spoke with that same weary tone: "I pulled out of there to avoid more lives being lost. You saw the size of that horde- and there was not even an archdemon. We would have thrown away the entire Fereldan army in a battle that didn't even matter. That is worst way to insult a man's life- to send him to die needlessly."

"You left the king to die," coughed Aedan, "You could have sent a small battalion to extract him-"

"He should not have been down there in the first place. If he had listened to me, I would not have had to withdraw. I cannot value one man's life over the lives of a thousand!" The Teyrn stood back up and snatched a bundle of papers laying on the nearby table. "Is this just going to be you questioning everything I've ever done? Or perhaps we should talk about what you've done." Loghain flipped over the papers and perused the charges. "We know what happened at Orzammar- how you allowed the entire House Harrowmont to be sacrificed for your precious army. Many of them weren't even soldiers." Loghain looked down at Aedan and shook his head.

Aedan fell silent. The only sound in the chamber was his blood dripping onto the cold stone floor. "I know exactly what I've done," he croaked, "and I take full responsibility for my actions- but I'm not going to pretend it wasn't me who made that decision, and that's what makes us different. You lied about the Grey Wardens getting the king killed and shifted the blame of the decision from you to them."

"It was necessary. The people needed someone to blame, and if they blamed me, how could I lead this country against the Blight? I have told you. Everything I do, I do for this country. To protect it from those who would see it destroyed, Blight or otherwise."

"The Orlesian Grey Wardens weren't going to betray us, and still aren't going to betray us. Let them through the borders to help us."

Loghain laughed scornfully. "And how would you know that? You weren't there, when I saw your so called order nearly kill King Maric. Your order doesn't give a damn about what happens to Ferelden, they just want to eliminate the Blight."

"They can't help because you won't let any Orlesian aid past the borders!"

"And let them burrow their way into Ferelden again, like parasites? You, Cailan, your father, were all too trusting of them. I saw the way Cailan talked with that...Empress Celene of alliances and niceties. How he was so willing to throw everything away, even Anora. Nothing good can come of their help."

Aedan had heard rumors about Cailan possibly leaving Anora for Empress Celene. Anora had produced no heir, and an alliance between the two neighbors could be quite powerful. Perhaps that was why he had left the king to die?

Aedan scoffed at the irate man before him. "So the mighty Loghain will do everything for his country except give up your own pride. You've held onto your hate for so long that it's blinded you." Now it was Aedan's turn to shake his head at Loghain. The man glared up with sharp eyes. "I wish Maric could see you now."

"Do not talk like you know him!" Loghain smashed his fist down against the table, which toppled over and crashed against the ground. "He was my friend, and he would stand by me even now, just as I stood by him!" roared the general, his face contorted in rage. Realizing that he had toppled the table, Loghain collected himself and stood up straight. He stared back down at Aedan and scowled, "And do not act like you are better than me. I saw Howe's body. A good man would have given his enemy a quick death."

The two stared at each, their angry breaths slowly seething through their clenched teeth. Loghain opened his mouth and pointed his finger at Aedan, but paused before he spoke. He looked down at the beaten, tired young man, and at his own weary reflection in the glass windows nearby. He grimaced and let his hands lower to his side. Loghain spoke quietly, "If you do not know where my daughter is, then I shall have to make use of you otherwise. Your execution has already been announced." With that, the teyrn left and slammed the door shut behind him.

The previous words lingered on Aedan's mind. Aedan chuckled quietly. You crusade to stop the Blight, and you get an execution order. Even if you stop it, you die killing the Archdemon, he thought. Your family labors for peace and prosperity, and they end up dead, with their bodies eaten by maggots and their reputation torn apart by the wolves of politics. What a world.

His head throbbed. Too much of his blood dripped from metal bats and spikes, and not enough flowed in his veins. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. The cold of the dungeon seeped deep into his bones, but not for much longer. He had watched the guard rotations, and seen where they had put his belongings. Now that Loghain had visited him and had no reason to come back, security would be a bit more lax.

Aedan snapped down on the base of his left thumb. His bone cracked beneath his iron grip. Aedan gritted his teeth through the agonizing pain. Once the worst of the pain had subsided, he slipped his left hand out of his handcuffs.


Morrigan anxiously leaned her head against the wall and sighed. She knew what was happening in there. No doubt Aedan was being tortured. Yet, they couldn't just rush in and jailbreak him. They needed to remain calm, but her mind raced with thoughts of what they might be doing to him. Even in the Wilds, Morrigan had heard the rumors of the infamous Fort Drakon.

She banged her forehead against the wall again. This is what he made her feel like: irrational, light-headed, worried. She had known this feeling would happen again, because he was him. Stupid, stupid Aedan. If he was not being tortured, Morrigan would have been pleased strangling him once he returned.

Eamon had called them all over for a status report to the living room. The man had surprised her- she would have expected Eamon to be a frail old noble too pompous to stomach the presence of such dangerous individuals in his home, but the actual man was anything but. Despite having been out of his coma for a short time, the man's physique was returning. Certainly not at the level of Aedan or Alistair, but Eamon had seen war far before either of those two. His body remembered war.

When she arrived in the room, it was only him. The witch considered leaving until others had entered the room, lest she be forced to have a conversation with him. But a word lingered on her mind: a word Aedan, Howe, and Queen Anora, had all mentioned. Cousland. She took a seat in the large chair next to Eamon. The entirety of it dwarfed her, and Morrigan examined the ornate fabric and excessive cushioning in bemusement.

"Aedan."

"I know you must be eager to start, considering you two are...close."

"That's...yes, but I had another question." Morrigan cleared her throat. "His name is Aedan...Cousland. I did not grow up amongst the nobility, or even the common folk, so that name means nothing to me. Yet you all know him."

"Yes. Aedan. I suppose he didn't tell any of you. It must have been painful to endure, let alone talk about it." Eamon leaned back in his chair. "His family was second only to the king. Some even wanted Bryce to take over the throne after King Maric died, but Bryce would hear none of that.

"Well-respected, kind, and fair. You couldn't find a better pair then Bryce and Eleanor Cousland. They raised damn good kids too. Fergus was in line to become the next Teyrn."

"And Aedan?"

"Second-born, but a remarkable young lad. He was always smiling." Eamon "I doubt he remembers, but I was there for his fourth birthday. Even then, the boy had such a contagious smile."'

"So what happened?"

"About a year ago, right before the Cousland army was to march to Ostagar, Howe assaulted them in the night. Slaughtered all of them in their sleep. He told the others, with Loghain's backing, that the Cousland had been consorting with the Orlesians. Everyone thought Aedan was dead. So did I- until he showed up with the Ashes and revived me."

Morrigan mulled over Eamon's words. Her mind reflected on her past interactions with Aedan. Did this new information recontextualize them? Taint them? Reveal them? Morrigan wasn't sure. She thought back to the words Aedan spoke to her, after his fight with Flemeth that had almost killed him.

"I'm sorry...I know how hard even the thought of losing someone is."

Morrigan grimaced. He really had known- and now, awaiting any word of Aedan's fate then and now, she had an inkling of an idea what it was like as well.

The rest of the group filed in. Once all had gathered, Eamon pushed himself out of his chair. He stood straight and composed, with his hands behind his back. "It is the third day. Loghain has not sent any word to me as of yet. I would have hoped Aedan would have escaped by now. Zevran has scouted out the area for us, in case we need to get in. Any thoughts?"

Zevran cleared his throat and began his analysis. "The Crows have been given requests for Fort Drakon before. We've always turned them down because of the high risk compared to the reward." Zevran twirled his dagger anxiously between his fingers. Usually he'd smile when he talked about a big heist. The elf only frowned today. "The prison security is tight. Nobody gets in or out unless it's through the front gates. Even then they do multiple identity checks and item confiscation."

"We need to get him out of there, Eamon," said Alistair. "Aedan would do the same for any of us."

Despite the negative news, Eamon simply nodded at the information and furrowed his brow in thought. "It's not a matter of should, it's a matter of how. We're a little lacking on the how right now." Eamon stared into the distance in silence. It reminded Morrigan of Aedan, who'd sit and calculate all the possible scenarios in her head. No doubt Eamon was thinking of the best way to navigate the political landscape.

A panting servant burst through the doors of the living room and held out a scroll to Eamon. "My lord, you may wish to see this."

Eamon snatched the scroll from her hands and scanned the contents. "Maker, no," he whispered. He flipped it over to show to the others and read aloud the contents: "By the decree of Teyrn Loghain, the criminal known as Aedan Cousland, leader of the Ferelden Grey Wardens, is sentenced to public execution tomorrow in the Landsmeet chamber, for crimes against the crown and the regency."

The eyes of the rest of the companions wandered to Morrigan, who still stared blankly at the flyer. After a minute, the edge of her mouth twitched. A small flame alit at the edge of the paper. Eamon hastily threw the smoking flyer into the fireplace. "If you'll excuse me, Eamon," stated Morrigan as she turned to leave, "I have a jail to burn to the ground."

"Just hold on, Morrigan, just hold on," laughed Alistair nervously, "You'll kill Aedan too if you do that."

"Good. The fool had me knocked out- and I have not forgotten the role you played in that either, elf," snarled Morrigan. She flashed a nasty glare at Zevran. A cold shiver ran down Zevran's spine. The last time that had happened he had been unarmed against a large battalion of Tal-Vashoth. Zevran inched towards the opposite door.

"I will not hold on for another moment. Aedan is inside there being tortured, and we just sit here doing nothing. Now, because we have waited, his life is in even more danger!"

"I'm just suggesting that instead of rushing in and burning down buildings and such," stated Alistair, trying to pry Morrigan's staff from her clenched fingers to no avail, "we have an actual plan to get him. I doubt Aedan would be pleased to see that we burnt down half the Palace District to get him out. Leliana and I have come up with something that could work, but we'll need you."

Her fingers still tightly wrapped around her staff, Morrigan paused and considered Alistair's offer, glaring at him all the while. Alistair wasn't sure how Aedan dealt with her on a daily basis. The templar tried his best to smile and calmly stated, "Let's just take a deep breath-"

Morrigan sharply inhaled, and pushed out what little breath she had with a scowl.

"Or not," remarked Alistair dryly.

"Come on, let's go." The witch stormed out of the living room, with Alistair and Leliana in hot pursuit.


Aedan gave one final heave as he pushed the boulder in place. Panting and drenched in sweat, Aedan collapsed against the boulder face and breathed in relief. The summer sun beat down on his back and he could use a cool glass of water. For once Highever didn't require layers.

"You're sure you'll remember this is where you buried the lambskin package?" asked his father, who sat on a nearby bench. Bemused by the sight of his son working hard while he himself basked in the shade of a tree, Bryce chuckled.

"It's a giant boulder next to a tree. We don't have many of those just lying around," panted Aedan.

Bryce raised an eyebrow. "We live next to a mountain. It's made out of giant boulders and covered in trees."

Aedan grumbled, took his knife, and carved a smiling face in the boulder face. "There." He made a similar smile as he turned back to face his father, who unlike Aedan and the boulder, frowned.

"Find something else to mark it," said Bryce, shaking his head.

"Maybe I'll find another boulder and draw a frowny face on it," grumbled Aedan under his breath, "then it'll match your face."

"I'm sorry," remarked Bryce, "whose fault is it that we have to hide these documents here?"

"Not my fault! Just helping someone out!"

Bryce sighed at his son's reaction. The young man rarely thought about the consequences of his actions. Aedan always thought that just helping out was enough- that good intentions would only result in good things. "You do realize you've caused a lot of trouble for the wrong people. I need you to lay low for awhile."

Aedan attempted to heave the boulder up, but instead slipped. His face planted into the dirt beneath him. Looking up from the dry earth, Aedan asked, "Lay low as in..."

"Stay inside in the castle whenever you can. At least for a good year. No trips to Denerim. Understood?"

"But I'll be so bored…" groused Aedan. He tried to move the boulder once again, but it had gotten caught in the dirt. He groaned and banged his head against the rock face.

"I'm sure you'll find some other trouble to get into...like burning down a building or something."

"Is that what you think of me, father? I'm hurt."

Bryce scoffed and nodded towards the forest."I've seen you practicing throwing those little flasks of yours, and the little glass fragments you leave behind."

"Just a trick I picked up from a…" The young man paused. Aedan wouldn't go so far as to call Adair a friend. A mentor? Perhaps. "Someone," finished Aedan.

"I really don't like the people you meet." Bryce stared at his son and crossed his arms. "I'm serious, Aedan. No trouble."

"Fine fine." Just as Aedan managed to get the boulder out a rut, he whipped around and shot at his father, "Wait a second- if you knew that you didn't want a boulder to mark this,why didn't you tell before I lugged this thing over here?"

Bryce shrugged his shoulders as a wicked smile crossed his face. "Because it was funny."

As the two men below continued to bicker, a lone, unnoticed figure watched from the trees.

"That idiot. Rock with a smiley face." Adair moved to rub his right eye in irritation, but a sword had recently gouged that out. Instead his hand found itself brushing against a leather eyepatch stained with blood.

"I guess let the kid be a kid," he sighed. Adair watched as Aedan struggled to push the boulder back into the forest with his father chuckling behind him. The cloaked man jumped from tree to tree, leaving behind the idyllic castle. Adair still had much work to do, more blood to spill. Though he had killed many of them, there were still men who knew of the package and would exploit it for their own means. He would be busy for awhile.

"Till next time, Aedan," he muttered. Though he said those words, if Adair did his job right, he'd never meet the kid again. That was the world he had fought for with Teharel and the others. One where people like Aedan never needed to know the lengths men like Adair went to protect them. One where people like Aedan could sit at home with their families and enjoy their lives.

He hoped Aedan never had to pick up a sword again.


Morrigan tugged on the Chantry robes in disgust. She wasn't sure if she despised the constrictive guard armor or the chantry robes more. Leliana however had a serene smile on her face as she donned her old garb.

"What are you smiling about? We're breaking someone out of prison."

"Who would expect a smiling Chantry sister to break a man's arm and tie them up while we go look for our friend?" said Leliana. "Remember to use the rope in the robes for that." Morrigan blinked. Sometimes she forgot that the sister had been a bard, and that her serene smile was often times a lie.

Apparently, Morrigan did not know a lot of things. What was it she had told Leliana? 'Look at the assassin pretending to be a sister- what a hypocrite.' She would not say something like to Aedan, because she...what were the words for it, she thought. Morrigan pondered for a bit, before coming up with the phrase: empathized with him. She knew how he would feel when she said those things. She did not care for the bard, but she could understand how the bard felt when she had said those things. Morrigan would not wish such a feeling upon either her or Aedan.

The words stuck in Morrigan's throat. The witch tried to clear her throat. "I...have something to say to you...regarding your past," muttered Morrigan from the side of mouth.

"Ah." Leliana frowned in expectation of criticism.

Do not make this harder for me, thought Morrigan to herself. "I have...said things that have been less than amiable regarding it."

"You mean you've been a bitch," muttered Alistair out of earshot. Morrigan ignored the templar.

"Sometimes there are things we would not like to talk about, and I can understand that- and I would like to apo….apo...apoli…" Morrigan cleared her throat and tried to say the words again, but all that came out was a low grumble that resembled a dying animal.

"You don't need to say it. I appreciate the gesture," said Leliana.

The templar rubbed the back of his head and glanced over at Morrigan. Alistair remembered what they had learned about Aedan in Howe's dungeon. Leliana had been the one to explain to him Aedan's heritage. Alistair grimaced as he thought about. Duncan had told him something had happened, and sometimes Alistair theorized someone close to Aedan had died. The templar asked, "Is this about-"

"No," snapped Morrigan.

"You know I used to think you'd be a bad influence on him, but it turns out he's been a good influence on you," said Leliana, who was not trying very hard to hide her smug grin. At this comment, the templar could not help but snicker as well.

Morrigan scowled. "Enough, lest I return to my original plan of burning down the building."

His smile faded lest Morrigan's threat become reality. Alistair decided to jog over to the end of the alleyway to scout out the fort. He waved the other two over while he kept a lookout for more guards."The fort is just down this street- Morrigan and Leliana, you get out in front, while-" The templar paused and sniffed the air. "Is that...smoke?"

A faint haze wafted upwards in the distance, followed by a thundering explosion shaking through the air. "Fire in the prison yard!" shouted one guard as countless more scrambled towards the prison. "Get the buckets over!"

Amidst the shouting and smoke, Alistair turned to face Morrigan with wide eyes. The witch raised her hands in defense. "Wasn't me, honestly."

"Well, it looks like you two think alike," sighed Alistair, "now we just need to figure out where he ran off to." Morrigan covered her mouth with her hand and hid a small smile at the sight of the flame her lover had created.

Leliana climbed up to a top of a building and scouted out into the distance. "It seems to just be in the courtyard...not the main building. Likely he used it as a distraction so he could escape- well, not quietly." The bard jumped back down and gagged on the smoke that billowed out from the fort.

The three walked calmly amidst the ensuing chaos that had now erupted. Countless waltzes through battlefields made the scene almost more familiar than peacetime. The smoke thickened as the fire grew.

"They need not worry- the fire is far from any flammable material, and there's a nearby water source as well," muttered Leliana under her breath. "But it seems he used material far more prone to smoke than most, perhaps so they'd panic more."

Hooves stampeded against the ground from behind the group. A horse whinnied as it's rider abruptly stopped in front of the prison. "Maker's breath," groaned the guardsmen. He climbed off his horse and sighed, "Burning buildings, bodies strewn about, general chaos...that's Aedan for you."

Noticing Morrigan and Leliana behind him, and despite seeing their Chantry robes, he spoke rather gruffly, "I'm sorry, sisters, but this area needs to be sectioned off. I need to find my friend before he causes anymore trouble...or taxpayer dollars."

"Did you say you were a friend of Aedan's?" asked Leliana.

The guardsmen narrowed his eyes."You know him?" Kylon eyed Alistair, who was trying to look as small as he could behind the two women. "Ah. So you're the bastard. I recognize you from the wanted posters."

"That's Warden Bastard to you," joked Alistair. The guardsmen's unchanged frown made Alistair shrink a little.

"My name is Sergeant Kylon," explained the guardsmen with the same dour expression, "I heard news that Aedan was being held here before his execution, and I was coming to see if I could get it appealed, or at least get him released into city guard custody." Kylon rubbed his eyes in irritation. "Instead I find this mess. He does realize how many times I've had to clean up after his messes already, right?"

Just as he finished speaking, a half naked guardsmen stumbled out the nearby alleyway, holding his dazed head in his hands. Kylon marched over to the man and clasped him on the shoulders to shake him awake.

"You, guardsmen, report! What happened to you!" he barked. The dazed guardsmen stood at attention and saluted Kylon.

"The prisoner...he broke his own hand to get out of his restraints." The guardsmen took a deep breath and tried to find solid footing. "He's...not human. Took down a whole squadron with his bare hands, even after three days of torture. Torched the courtyard, took my clothes, and took off on a horse."

As Kylon continued to interrogate the guard, a familiar feeling washed over Morrigan. The ring, she thought. She could barely feel the ebb of it's energy. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the weak signal.

"Do you think he headed back to Eamon's estate?" asked Alistair. The templar peered around the pavement on the ground, hoping to find some evidence of horse tracks.

"No, guards are going to be swarming everywhere looking for him. He'd find someplace to lay low, somewhere outside the city," mused Leliana.

There, thought Morrigan, having finally gotten a fix on Aedan's signal."He has a ring in his possession that allows me to track him," she announced, "He seems to be heading north."

The sergeant scowled at the half-naked subordinate and shooed him off. "North?" asked Kylon. "Oh Maker."

"Do you know where he's going?" said Morrigan. Her voice wavered. The signal was already weakening.

Kylon grimaced and looked off towards the far off mountains of the north.

"Home."


Author notes

And another chapter! Hope you all have been playing Inquisition and enjoying it as much as I have. Expect the next chapter very soon, and I mean it this time. I've been wanting to write this one for a long time. As always, feel free to review, ask questions, or leave constructive criticism. See you all next time.

Warden Commander Oxford: Well, I've finished Inquistion and have some free time for the holidays, so hopefully I can get the next chapter out very soon. When I began this piece, I always had several defining moments in mind, and the next chapter is one of the most important, so I'm excited to be finally writing it.

Blorg13: We'll see what happens to Loghain...Aedan is certainly very angry at Loghain, but understands why Loghain why may have done the things he did. Expect more Loghain/Aedan confrontations before this is all over.

Bloodwolf432: For me, Inquistion was the first time I ended up playing a mage, seeing as I played a warrior in DAO and a rogue in DA2 (Knight Enchanter ftw)

Kadan-sa: Maybe, maybe not. Depends on whether or not Aedan decides to take that ritual- he's pretty deadset on his current path.

Guest: Glad you like my portrayal!

Guest: Here's to more updates in the coming days.

Guest: I'm hoping to pick up the pace on this, so hopefully you won't have to wait too long for the end of this.