Chapter 1

BANG!

The book slams the on the table. The noise completely silences the room, "Absolutely not! I will not allow such blatant and disgusting use of magic to find the answers we need!" The gall he has to suggest such an ugly and vicious crime just for the benefit of those who might live through it makes my blood boil. "I will not allow you or any other idiot to try something that uses the masses like they were cattle! Even if I die, I will come back from the Void itself to kick your sorry crustacean ass face so hard that any remaining relatives you might have will feel it! Do I make myself clear?" Magic gathers around the Commanders' hands as he screams protests at the Architect.

If the prick feels any emotion, the mask covers it. Magic gathers around his hands as he raises himself to his full height. He tries again to voice his idea, "I still think-"

"I don't give a Blighted fuck what you think! I said do I make myself clear?" the Commander interjects. They both know they won't come to blows; both are to powerful and need each other to much to allow that. For a quick second though the Architect flinches. This argument is won by the Commander.

"Yes," He relents. With that, the Hero of Ferelden turns abruptly and storms out of the room, far too angry to continue to strategize. Magic flows to easy here and he ends up slamming the door with it as he leaves.

Every single faux warden and darkspawn damn near trip over their own two feet as he stalks down the halls. They have all heard horror stories of people who have pushed him well over the edge of anger. However, right now, he's too enraged at the proposals floated today. 'The gall of these Blighted bastards. The smartest fuckers in the Blighted Deep and they can't come up with one decent idea? It's absolutely disgusting that I have to deal with this shit. Months have passed since we have started this little conference to find a way to more appropriately fight the Blight and nothing has come of it,' his seething thoughts sour his mood as he storms towards the massive chasm that is the center point of this impromptu city.

Slipping into more anger, more desperation, more depression, and more fear the song plays again in his head. Just a little louder this time, as if it knows he's reaching his wits end. 'I'm going insane more and more.' Magic fills his body. It's so easy. Too easy.

'I can't take the damn song!'

All emotions turn to pure fury. Fire gathers between his hands growing hotter and brighter. With all his might, he chunks it into the black depth before him. It reaches a breaking point and explodes into what feels like a small sun. The light blinds everything in the chasm for a while, the heat warms everything it can touch to a more comfortable level, and the sound it makes is so deafening that it seems as if the entire Deep has fallen silent after the explosion. For a second he can imagine hes's on the surface again. The moment passes.

His breathing is labored, but he no longer hears the song and can finally relax. He sits at the edge of the cliff overlooking the massive cavern that once held an archdemon. There is poetic justice here. Some of the smartest people alive all gathered here united in the common goal of ending the threat of the Blights.

The clicking of claws against stone and his pointed ear is soon tickled by the wet snout of the ever loyal dog, Barkspawn. Footsteps are not far behind either. "Well Commander, I can now see how you so easily commanded the choices of the Landsmeet," Avernus's snide voice coming from behind as he stops just at the edge of the cliff, "That display of magic has reminded the Spawn who they are dealing with too. You are far from the young elf that dealt with the demons of Soldier's Peak."

"Bite me, Old Blood. I do not have the emotional capacity to deal with your smug ass right now." The cranky blood mage was brought to assist with the Architects' research and give a different point of view. The two took to each other like teenage lovers; at least that's how the saying goes though it still makes no sense to the young commander. The lack of a moral compass for either of them forces someone to watch over them constantly to make sure they have some sort of ethical research happening. The train of thoughts leads back to the reason the Commander is so angry.

The Architects' proposal.

"If I may be so bold Commander, he has a point. Making a second attempt at his breaking into of the Fade will most likely lead us to answers we don't even know the questions too."

"No it won't. It'll be the death of even more innocents with probably some other horror spilling out to wreak even more havoc upon all of Thedas. His proposal is even more insane than everyone else's is. I mean seriously," the Commander stands up and starts pacing, Barkspawn never far from his heels, "Using a combination of a Darkspawn and Gray Warden army to sweep through the deep and attempt to turn every Darkspawn to our side? Need I remind everyone how that idea went last time? Amaranthine still isn't the same! Or how about the idiotic idea of repeating the experiment that caused the fifth Blight? I don't think there is going to be another giant tower for me to kill another dragon on," sarcasm thick as syrup as he stops and stares at him, "The song is affecting everyone here. It isn't possible. It isn't right. We need an answer, and we need one now."

"So you are proposing that we find an answer to the Calling?"

"That's the best idea yet," comes the reply after a moment of hesitation.

"Oh do tell how we will accomplish that," he replies in the most patronizing tone he can muster.

"Well for starters, I need to know how the research the two of you have conducted has gone."

His eyes light up with more interest in this conversation. The self-centered mage is always ready to brag about what he has been recently doing anyway, "Well, though our work has been throttled back we have made strides in our understanding of the taint in our blood. To buttress your point, we have ways to extend the life of Gray Wardens but nothing to put off the Calling indefinitely. If you would assist us, I believe your perspective could give us a massive boost in our understanding. Besides the two of us, you sir are the next leading expert on all things Blighted."

"You know my best work isn't done while trapped in a lab, Old Blood."

"I never said anything about a lab, Commander."

That makes the hero pause and have a stare down with Barkspawn. Those eyes of his are twinkling with that mabari intelligence. He's followed the conversation as well as he can. That wagging tail is enough proof of that. One happy bark from him and he's in for the long run on this idea, "I'll need a scribe. One that can keep up with how fast I'll be talking."

"You are talking to him."

"Can you keep up with me old man?" the mood starting to improve.

"Only if we go up to the surface first so that we can get enough books to hold your ranting," he returns with a smirk.

"We'll have to be quick about it."

"Understood Commander."

They make their way back to the temporary quarters to get ready for the journey ahead. Ideas already flying through the commander's head. Ever since the Blight, he always thought best in the middle of fights or stressful events. The damn song won't let him do that properly so fighting might be the best answer. It looks like the three of them were going to throw themselves into the worst parts of the Deep Roads just to see what insane ideas might come up with in the heat of the moment. As a far more powerful mage than the one that beat an ancient paragon and claimed his anvil, than the one that saved the Circle, than the one that freed werewolves, than the one who crowned a queen, than the one who survived killing an archdemon and talking darkspawn after that this is going to be fun.