Sergeant Maverlies found him. "Commander, the men cleared the rubble. You'll have to see what they found for yourself."

She led the Wardens down the tunnel to a darkspawn constructed staircase, and Voldrik was waiting for them.

"Here we are," he said as he reached the edge. "Look at her."

"I knew it led to the Deep Roads. I could smell it," said Voldrik as he knelt and examined the stairs. "It looks safe enough to climb down. Find a way to stop the darkspawn from coming back this way."

"Good luck," Sergeant Maverlies added.

A strange, glowing, obviously magical apparatus. Containing a demon, no doubt, and no one was activating it for a change.

"Dead end?" Nathaniel asked.

Ragnar nodded. "Perhaps that other cave-in we noticed."

"Why are we clearing the cave in instead of caving it in more things in?" Anders asked.

"Because there are at least eight different paths down here, and they must converge past this point," Nathaniel said.

"Aye, best to hold them off in one area," said Wartihog. He then stopped as he moved closer to one wall. "Commander, look at this."

Ragnar moved towards him and examined the edge. "It's a door."

"There must be some way too…"

They both sighed and looked back at the apparatus.

He stepped away from the dead ogre, withdrew his sword, and looked at the strange mechanism on the wall. Nathaniel turned towards him to say something, and the man's eyes suddenly went wide as he reached for his bow. Ragnar immediately rolled to the side, narrowly escaping the ogre's fist slamming down where he'd been standing a moment before.

"It's got back up!" Wartihog yelled.

"It's possessed by a demon!" Anders yelled back.

The ogre swung its fist at Ragnar again, forcing him to roll out of the way again. The ogre turned faster than he would have expected, and he narrowly dodged a blow from the thing's other fist. Wartihog smashed his axe into the back of the thing's legs. It staggered forward, then kicked its leg out backwards, sending Wartihog flying. The ogre reached out and grabbed Ragnar. He threw himself backwards, and the thing's fingertips brushed by close enough to just touch his armour. His back hit the wall, and the thing grinned at him as it came in for another blow.

He kicked off the wall and rolled, going between the thing's legs. The thing turned to give chase, and Nathaniel caught it in the eye with an arrow. It dropped.

They stood there for a minute, weapons in hand. "Is it dead?" Wartihog asked, getting to his feet.

"Anders?"

"I… think so"" Anders frowned. "Someone should go poke it with a stick, just to be sure. I nominate Wartihog."

"Throw a spell at it before I throw you at it," Wartihog grunted.

Anders nodded and threw a small fireball at it. There was the acrid odour of roast darkspawn, and it failed to react. "Yep, it's dead."

"Not the first time," Wartihog grumbled.

"Nice shot," Ragnar told Nathaniel.

"Thank you."

A few minutes later, Voldrik and Sergeant Maverlies walked down the corridor.

"Commander, the ancestors favour us indeed. This is a dwarven barrier door." Voldrik caressed the mechanism. "Before old Kal'Hirol fell, she nearly had it complete. Only the mechanism needs work." He sighed. "If they'd only had a bit more time to finish, Orzammar wouldn't be all alone."

"Can you finish what Kal'Hirol began?"

"Won't take me long to fix up the mechanism. Poor sods were nearly done."

Half an hour later, Voldrik had fixed the mechanism, and the doors began to close.

"This is proper dwarven engineering. You stand back now," Voldrik warned. They watched as about three heavy doors slammed shut, sealing the entire tunnel. "Should buyers a few years, a decade if we're lucky."

"That'll give us time to devise a more permanent solution," said Sergeant Maverlies.

Ragnar nodded. "Let's go back to the keep."

"Of course."

Ragnar soon learned that there were certain things that needed to be done, like trying to find some proper granite for the keeps wall so that Voldrik could reinforce them. Also, Wade practically begged him to assist him with creating fine works of art with any rare materials he might find.

After his talk with Wade, he found the dwarf that practically blew up his keep setting some sort of store. The dwarf looks half-crazy, which deeply concerned Ragnar immensely, and he was beginning to worry if this dwarf would blow up the keep or something.

"Your arranged quite the welcome for us, didn't you, Commander!" He laughed. "Not that I mind—gave me the chance to do some proper testing."

"You're the one who blew up those darkspawn, right?"

"Oh, kind of you to notice. Aye, that was my work." He gave a half bow. "The name is Dworkin Glavonak. Some call me Dworkin 'the Mad'. That don't ruffle my beard, though. You have to be a little made in my line of research."

"Did you invent these explosives?" He'd seen some used to seal tunnels. It was incredible. Cut a hole in the rock, put in a little cylinder, then run like hell as a mountain comes down. It was such a shame that they didn't have these back at Ostagar.

"I developed these particular formulations, but it's the qunari who perfected the art. That just gets in my craw. Sullen, ashen-skin giants shouldn't be allowed to outsmart dwarves." Dworkin shrugged. "So I've been conducting experiments on lyrium sand and other volatile ingredients."

Ragnar looks quite interested. "Is there any way I can help?"

"If you've a mind to, aye. We used up all the explosives on those darkspawn. I can make more, but I'm out of lyrium sand. Lyrium dust is all over the place, but that's too fine." He gestured at some of the blue substance on the workbench. "Dust's good for fuses, but not the 'boom' I'm looking for. With real lyrium sand, I can set the lads to work."

Ragnar nodded. "We'll talk later." He then looked back at him with slight concern and added, "Don't blow yourself up."

"I'll be careful," he assured and then bit his lip. "Careful-ish."

He wandered around the Keep and suddenly came across a cat licking its paws. He remembered how Anders had mentioned about Mr Wiggums, and while he found that his fixation with cats was strange, he needed to make and feel more at home.

Anders caught it almost out of reflex. Then he blinked. "Oh! Look at the cute little kitty!" It meowed at him adorably. "He looks like Mr Wiggums—" He sighed. "But I don't know if I should keep him. We got into some dangerous scraps."

He had a point, a cat will be in danger when facing again, say an army of self-aware darkspawn.

"He can stay at the keep, then."

"I suppose… Well, I'll keep him just for a while. Until I find somewhere safer. Is that okay with you, kitty?" The cat meowed and purred in his arms, narrowed his way of saying yes. "I'll call you Ser Pounce-a-lot! You can stay in my pack. Just for a little while, yes."

It curled into a ball and started to purr loudly.

They were walking towards the gate when Nathaniel quickened his pace. An elderly elf was walking towards the hastily erected structures serving as housing. "Samuel? Groundskeeper Samuel? Is that you?"

The elf turned around. "Who…?" He stepped backwards in surprise, and then a warm smile crossed his face. "Maker's breath, if it isn't little Nate! I'd know that face anywhere!"

"Groundskeeper, I'm overjoyed that you stayed on." A note of desperation entered Nathaniel's voice. "Please, do you know how my brother died?" He swallowed. "And my sister? I…" His voice hitched just slightly. "I was in the Free Marches."

"Your brother died in the war, but Lady Delilah…" Samuel put a hand on Nathaniel's shoulder. "Don't you know? She isn't dead, son, not that I know of. Last I heard, she married a storekeeper in Trader's Bay. Don't know which one. Poor girl."

His sister was alive. After seeing Adria, he hadn't dared hope… But his sister was alive. "Did you hear that? My sister's alive!"

Ragnar frowned. "Why did you think she was dead?"

Nathaniel sighed. "I knew about my mother, and I heard my brother might be dead. I suppose… I just assumed that Delilah was dead, too." He then turned towards Ragnar with a somewhat pleading look. "Could we ask around the shops next time we're in Trader's Bay?"

"We could take a look, yes." Ragnar nodded.

"Thank you. I would be interested to know just what happened to her."

The moment they entered the city, Nathaniel practically zoomed off into the marketplace, no doubt trying to find his sister. Using the directions that Samuel had given them, they easily managed to find her.

"Delilah? Is that really you?"

She turned to him, and her face lit up. "Nathaniel! I had feared the worst!"

Ragnar looked at her found it difficult to believe that she used to be a noble. There was a certain elegance to the way she walked, but it was pretty much ruined by her peasant robes.

"Times must have been hard, Delilah," said Nathanial taking a good look at her. ""But you can do better than this. Come back to the estate until we find somewhere else."

"What?" She laughed. "Oh, Nathaniel! I didn't marry Albert out of desperation. I adore him!" She gestured. "I was so glad to get away from Father's evil—this life is so much better."

He blinked. "Father's evil? Isn't that overstating things a little? He got caught up in politics…"

"You weren't here. You didn't see what he did, Nathaniel." She shook her head. "I was lucky that Teyrn Dagur did not sought for revenge."

"You have his sister defined that," said Ragnar. "She's a somewhat calming influence over him."

"You want the culprit who destroyed our family?" said Deliah. "It was our father, without question."

"I… had no idea."

"Of course you did. But you always worshipped father, right from when you were a little boy." She took his hand. "Come, brother. Let us sit and catch up a bit, shall we?"

Nathaniel looked back at Ragnar, and he nodded, gesturing for him to go with.

While Nathaniel was catching up with Delilah, Ragnar made his way to find the merchant Mervis to discuss about his missing caravans.

He found the Mervis not too far away from the market. "Warden-Commander! Thank the Maker you're finally here. I was afraid our messages never got through to you!"

"Are you Mervis?"

"Yes. Thank you for coming to the guild. We need your help." He spread his hands. "Our caravans are being attacked. The wagons are burned to ashes, and there... there have been no survivors." He shuddered. "It's gotten worse lately. People from the neighbouring villages have found guards torn limb from limb and left in the village square."

It sounded like a straightforward problem which only meant that it was going to get complicated fast. "This needs to stop immediately."

Mervis smiled and nodded. "Yes. That much is clear." He gestured towards the road. "Whatever it is, it's completely crippled trade between Trader's Bay and Denerim. No one wants to travel the road through the Wending Wood. Can the Grey Wardens help at all?"

"I will investigate it immediately," he assured. Well, as soon as they finish their business in Trader's Bay.

"Oh, Maker bless you and watch over you. If you can stop the killings, the Merchant's Guild will make a hefty donation to your organization. You have my promise."

Ragnar escorted Justice towards the Chantry, but he stopped to look at the statue of Andraste.

"Curious," he said as he examined the statue. "This man I inhabit once worshipped this woman, her and the one they call the Maker." He then looked at him. "Do you believe in this Maker as he did?"

Ragnar shook his head. "Of course, I'm a Freefolk Elf; we worship our own governments."

Justice frowned. "In the Fade, some spirits believe a creator gave us life and separated us from this world. But do they believe that only because they see the Maker in the dreams of mortals? So much of the Fade is created by spirits desperate to emulate your kind."

Ragnar looked at him curiously. "You mean the spirits don't know?"

"Many do not care. Demons live in the moment, but those of us who seek something greater… we wonder." He then looked down at the city. "Here, you can be certain that whatever has always been. Is that not comforting?"

Ragnar nodded. "Yes, I guess it would be, in comparison."

"Faith requires structure and belief. In the Fade, we have neither." He then looked back at Ragnar. "I see why the demons are so eager to pass through the Veil. It is something to consider."

They ended in the Chantry and found a praying at the altar. He stood back slightly to allow Justice to approach. And hoped the woman wouldn't raise an alarm.

"Aura. Please do not be alarmed. I do not wish to frighten you."

Tear tracks stained her face. "You. You are the…" Her voice hitched. "In my husband's body."

Justice's voice was gentle. "I am a spirit of Justice. I meant your husband no harm. I would ease your distress, had I the power."

"I… knew, when he left, that this could happen. He told me. His father died a Grey Warden, too."

"Tell me, is there anything I can do for you? Tell me, and I will do it."

She drew a deep breath. "Avenge him, spirit. I will wait for his ashes a little longer if that means that whoever did this to him will pay." She laid her hand on the spirit's shoulder.

He looked at it, then back to her. "The darkspawn. Yes, I understand."

Ragnar took a step forward and pulled out a bag of money. "I know this can't bring your husband back, but this is a little compensation to tide you over."

Aura nodded and walked away. He watched her go. Justice shook his head. "And she is gone. Did I…" He turned to Ragnar. "Do the right thing?"

Ragnar didn't know if there was a correct or wrong answer, but he did do his best. "I think so, yes."

"She loved this man a great deal, and he loved her. I…" Justice considered his words for a moment. "Envy what they had. I must think on this more. But another time. Thank you for bringing me here."

When they exited from the Chantry, they found Nathaniel was out there waiting for them.

"She said she wants me to come back once all this is done. Meet her husband." He smiled. "She's due by the spring." He was going to be an uncle. He met his Commander's eyes. "She seems happy. She said Father deserved to die. I still can't believe it."

"You don't believe her?"

"I thought he had his reasons. It was a war, for Andraste's sake." Even if he had his reasons, the scope of what he'd done… Delilah had not pulled her punches when she'd told him what happened. He shook his head. Could he have influenced his father down a different path? "Before I went to the Free Marches, he was never… how could he have changed so much?"

"It's not your fault, Nathaniel."

"What if I'd never left? I didn't have much choice, but still…" He sighed. "I wish I'd known some of this sooner. I feel like such a fool." He shook his head. "Now, please… let's get back to our business. I need to think."

He then stopped as he looked around the Chantry courtyard and gave a sigh. "It figures, actually."

"What does?" Ragnar asked.

"There used to be another statue here." He gestured to the marks on the ground. "It was of Byron Howe, my great-uncle. He died in the Rebellion, helping King Maric reclaim his throne. Yet his statue is gone. All because of what my father did."

"That's a shame," said the Commander sincerely.

"It's truly is." He nodded. His gaze went to the Chantry's facade. "There's a long line of heroes in my family. The Howes have been around since Calenhad. Now it's all gone." He clenched his fists. "Curse my father and his idiot ambition. He lost everything for us, didn't he?"

"It's up to you to turn that around."

Nathaniel smiled. "Not too much pressure, right?" He shrugged. "I wonder what happened to the old statue. Likely propping up the side of the Chantry or something. Poor Arl Byron. Ah, statues are for pigeons. I don't want to look at it."

Hiccup gave me the Asgardian nobility one thing, they knew how to throw a party. Though he wished that the Empress' guests would stop bugging him about every single thing regarding the Blight.

"I see that I'm not the only one who hates these gatherings," said a voice.

Hiccup turned and saw a proud man approaching him; he was clearly militarily from the weight he was walking and wearing several medals. It was difficult to place the face when they were wearing masks, but he was very well known from the looks on everyone's faces.

"You seem to have me at a disadvantage," said Hiccup.

"Forgive me, I forgot that this is your first time in our beloved city," said the man. "I am Grand Duke Gaspar."

Hiccup remembered his father mentioning him; he was the man who was supposed to be emperor. "Yes, I've heard it you from my father."

"Ah, Stoick the Vast, I have never faced a more honourable warrior on the battlefield than your father," Gaspar smiled. "My condolences over your loss."

"Thank you, though I am rather surprised that you would praise your enemy so much."

"We may have fought on the opposite side of the Rebellion, but that does not mean I do not show respect to my enemies. In fact, I also greatly admire your uncle King Maric."

"And what is your opinion of me?"

"You're a hero; that matches a fact," said Gaspar as if the question was amusing. "You manage to rally support against the Blight despite being hunted down by your fellow countrymen. You passively managed to raise an army out of nothing; in fact, it was almost similar to that of your uncle during the Rebellion."

"Never dream he would speak so casually to a Midgardian. Correct me if I'm wrong, but haven't you been pushing more on advancing the territories of your country by expanding into Midgard and Vanaheim?"

"I won't deny that I wish for Asgard to be the centre of the continent," Gaspar smiled. "And while I did fight on the opposite end of the Rebellion, I didn't agree with how Meghren controlled the country. My grandfather should have put someone more competent on the throne, someone who would not regard ruling the country as a punishment. That said, I also have great respect for how you Midgardians value ability over heritage."

"So I take it you don't agree with what Celene is doing?"

"She is a very skilled politician, that I will not deny and how she outplayed me in becoming heir is to be commended. However, Asgard needs a strong ruler, not someone who would spend all their time planning parties."

"Well, but just remember this if you ever do become emperor," said Hiccup narrowing his eyes. "The only reason you are able to occupy Midgard was because my great-grandfather was unable to rally the nobility; I don't have that problem."

Gaspar smiled. "You have some real fire, your Majesty; I admire that." His eyes then suddenly turned towards Astrid, who was busy talking to some noble ladies. "Your wife is quite the beauty."

"Don't let her looks fool you. She can break your arm without a second thought."

Gaspar laughed. "Every rose has its thorns, it would seem. But tell me how you can secure your lineage, you are a Grey Warden after all, and they rarely have children."

Hiccup shrugged. "Well, it won't be from a lack of trying."

"Just between you and me, I have you become emperor. I would very much like to work with you. Just think of it the two of us together can expand our borders across the continent."

"If you're asking me to assist you in staging a coup, don't bother. My country has been ravaged by the Blight, and we are quite low on manpower. If I assist you and the coup fails, then my country would suffer the repercussions of assisting you. I'm sure you can understand at this point I needed a bit more focused on my domestic affairs than yours."

"It was worth a try," said Gaspar. "I know the offer still stands if you ever change your mind."

"Besides, the only board of my country as is yours so we could hardly expand it."

"There are enough. However, I was sincere about working together, the Blight may be over, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the peace will not last."

Hiccup couldn't help but agree with him, especially considering how many refugees had fled to other countries during the Blight. While the other countries were now completely unscathed, they had to deal with these refugees from Midgard, and it could easily cause trouble.