Holding the Hinterlands

The Hinterlands was a godforsaken mess. Aside from the Rifts tearing the land apart with roaming demons and the Templars and Mages fighting each other in free-for-all melees, there was a cult of Chantry castoffs who were led by some moron of a woman named Anais, and they somehow believed that the Breach was a sign from the Maker to punish the world for the Chantry's lies, and that the demons would cleanse the world and raise the worthy up to the Golden City. What a load of crap.

After Rajmael put the stomp on the nearby demons and closed the Rift, they kneeled to him and believed the common consensus that he was indeed the Herald of Andraste. They may have been a cult of fanatical loons, but at least they were a loyal cult of fanatical loons. Rajmael sent them to Leliana to gather information in the region.

Rajmael went down to the Cross Roads to meet with this Corporal Vale to get an assessment of the situation here. He had been stationed with the refugees and was coordinating the Inquisitions efforts to aid them.

"Hail, Herald of Andraste." The Corporal saluted.

"Please. Just Rajmael." The Herald insisted. "I have a real name, and I'd prefer to be called by it."

"As you wish, my lord." Corporal Vale's address made Rajmael sigh in aggravation. "The situation here in the Hinterlands is mess, ser. We've got refugees coming from all over the region, but with the Mages and Templars fighting it's made it impossible for us to get any supplies to aid them. Now there's a group of Bandits attacking us and raiding what supplies we do bring in."

"Do you have any information on these groups?"

"Yes, ser. We managed to kill a few and took these letters off of them." Corporal Vale produced to letters from his pack and handed them to Rajmael.

Rajmael's eyes glided up and down both parchments and was disturbed by what both had to say.

The Templar letter was written in a crisp and educated hand, and it stated.

When the Tevinter Imperium said that mages should rule over man, the Just rebelled against the unrighteous decree. When the Circle said that mages should be allowed to consort with unholy spirits without care or consequence. Now the Lord Seeker tells us to withdraw to Val Royeaux. My brothers, I tell you, we are the Just, and we must rebel against this unrighteous decree. Our battle must continue until no mage draws breath. Cast aside these cowardly shackles and join our righteous cause.

We must be ready to fight not only the mages, but those who sympathize with them. Have not the mages used blood magic to trick the minds of the unwary? Are not most people as we know them sheep, ready to be led by those who speak with authority? The people must be protected from the mages. It is our right and our duty. But those who supply them with lyrium? Those who offer them comfort and food? Those who shirk their duty to supply us for our worthy fight? They are sympathizers, who have lain with demons and can breed only abominations, and they must be slain as such. We will wage our war from our camp off the West Road, and we will not stop until this world is clean.

With the Maker's authority,

Knight-Captain Beaufort.

Well, that guy sounded like an ass, and no doubt, was more fanatical and loony than Lord Seeker Lambert, as impossible as that might seem. The mage letter was written was also written by an educated hand, but it was far more erratic.

Are you tired of letting the witless fools bind you with their fear? Come find us in Witchwood and we will show you the way. We will be free to work our craft, free to become the new gods we have always known we truly are.

Let the fools in Redcliffe play the good mage, as they always do. We know the truth. This world is ours to conquer, and every worthless peasant who threw a stone, every templar who glared in disappointment at our Harrowing, deserves to know it. They did not want us to dream because they knew we would dream of the truth, of power, of the weakness in the world that will let us break it and forge it anew. We are the chosen ones, we who have the power to enact change in this world and the will to see it through. We have conquered the Circles. We will conquer the templars. Come with us to the Witchwood. None who have the power of the Fade at their hands will be turned away.

We await you with eager hands and powerful minds,

Enchanter Crowley.

"Just one great big pile of crap piled on top of another." Rajmael complained as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do we know where these rebel groups are holding up?"

"Yes, ser. The Mages are have holed up in a cave right in the middle of Witchwood. And the Templars have fortified themselves just off the Western Road down from the Broken Bridge." Corporal Vale explained as he pointed to each location on a map. "Their positions have completely halted any effort to move supplies or people safely. I'm afraid the refugees are stuck here, and we're running short on necessities."

Rajmael stared at the map and memorized the location of both rebel factions while he thought up a plan. "Alright, this is how it will go: My company and I will go on ahead and handle both the rogue templars and mages. I want Scout Harding and her men to follow behind us and confiscate whatever supplies both groups have, then give it to the refugees. And I want a contingency of men to rendezvous with me at Master Dennet's farm."

"Understood, ser." Corporal Vale saluted and turned on his heel to carry out his orders.

Rajmael turned to address his fellows. "Alright, listen. Both of these groups have broken off from their respective factions to fight each other and establish their own little institution. They're deluded, fanatical and dangerous. The death and destruction they have caused has earned them their deaths. No prisoners, no quarter."

"Alright!" Iron Bull bellowed. "Finally, some action!"

"These two groups have done nothing but bring pain and misery to these people. It's about time they've been stopped." Blackwall confirmed.

"Agreed." Said Cassandra. "Their crimes are far too grave."

"Is killing them the only possible path?" Solas questioned. "Surely, there is some way we can approach these people and convince them to stand down?"

"Your devotion to your kind is touching, Solas, dear. But it's sadly misplaced." Vivienne practically sneered. "These people have committed a terrible crime, and now they are simply paying the price."

"I do not need to sympathize with anyone, mage or templar, to know compassion, Enchanter." Solas balked back. "And I certainly don't need to relish in bloodshed."

"Nor I, but I certainly don't back down from doing what is necessary when the time calls for it." Vivienne said with that haughty attitude of hers. "Perhaps you should learn that."

Sweet Mythal, Vivienne's attitude pissed Rajmael off. But what pissed him off more was that she was right. Had to diffuse the situation. "You know, in Varric's books, this is usually the part where you two start kissing. So I suggest you two either start with the oral affection, or shut the fuck up." A nauseated look twisted on both mages' faces and they turned away from each other with their mouths firmly shut.

They first made for the abandoned outpost of Fort Connor. The Fort was built by Arl Eamon after the Orlesian Occupation in honor of his father to protect the King's Road from bandits. It proved its mettle during the Fifth Blight when the soldiers posted there were able to successfully protect the refugees fleeing the hoard. Now the rogue templars have taken it over and have driven off the local farmers. And the templars were currently being besieged by the rebel mages, who drove off whatever farmers remained and were bombarding the fort's walls with fire and lightning. Perfect

With the villagers driven off there was no risk for collateral damage. And with the mages and templars trying to kill each other they were too busy to notice the Herald and his companions. "Varric, Sera, I want you two to get behind the templars and cut them down from behind." Rajmael intructed. "Solas and Vivienne, you're going to give cover fire while the rest of us charge in."

Varric and Sera stealthily snuck around the two fighting groups and made their way through the shattered walls of the fort and shot down the templars within. In the meantime Solas and Vivienne rained down a storm of fire and ice down on both rogue factions as the others charged in.

Cassandra extended her powerful will to all nearby enemies, templar and mage alike, and felt the lyrium in their veins evaporate under her very presence, rendering the mages defenseless and templars in withdrawal.

With the closest mages powerless and the templars staggering to their knees, they became easy pickings for The Iron Bull and Blackwall. The Grey Warden and the Seeker charged in with their shields and battered them down before finishing them off with their swords, while the ben-hassrath stampede forward with his giant axe and swung it in wide arcs, cutting down and splitting every enemy foolish enough to be in his range.

Blood sprayed through the air while screams echoed throughout the valley as Rajmael ran closer and close to the holed-up inside the fort, slashing and cutting down every enemy that was in his way. By the time he got there Varric and Sera managed to slay the templars that were on the ruined ramparts, but the remainder of them retreated back into the fort and barricaded the door.

Sera noticed a mage running away from the killing field and towards the forest. She knocked an arrow and aimed, but was stopped by Rajmael.

"No. Don't." He ordered as he placed his hand on Sera's bow. "Follow him, he will lead us to the rest of them."

"On it." Sera sped off after the fleeing maleficar.

Rajmael stood in front of the large, thick door that blocked his way inside and gave it few good knocks with a wide smile on his face. "Hey, templars! Wanna come out and play?" He placed his pointed ear against the door and heard nothing. "No? Well, I got a parting gift from the Inquisition the locals want you to have. Here, let me just show you!"

Rajmael pushed his palms outward and an invisible projectile of force knocked the massive siege door into splinters, and the elf just casually strolled into the templar filled ruined while waving the dust out of his face. There were templars on all sides, all armed to the teeth with swords, axes and bows. The archers launched their arrows at the intruder, but the missiles just phased through him like he wasn't even there, like he was a ghost.

The Arcane Warrior held his sword with both hands and raised it into the air above him, the runes on it glowing white and the blade was engulfed in veilfire. "From the Redcliffe with love, assholes!" He waved the sword above his head and swung it down in one clean stroke, and vortex of energy materialized in the air above the templars, trapping them in a cage of electric energy and striking them with lightning bolts.

The templars' armor conducted the electricity beautifully. The air quickly filled with the stench of the searing flesh and burnt hair as their eyes popped in their skulls and their teeth shattered out of their mouths. In a brief moment all the rogue templars inside were dead and all that was left was of them was their ruined carcasses that were now singed beyond all recognition and left a lovely fragrance filling the room.

Iron Bull entered the keep with his nose wrinkled but awe in his single eye. "Damn, boss! I think you just beat my personal record of clearing the room full of assholes in the least amount of time. Good on you! Haven't seen someone make a mess out of men like this outside of canon fire."

Vivienne covered her mouth and nose with a lace handkerchief to keep the smell from offending. "Yes, dear. Very well done. Though, you could have been less…unsightly about it."

Rajmael rolled his eyes away from the prissy mage. "Sure, Vivienne. Next time I'll politely ask the hostile templars to gently impale themselves on my sword, I promise. Did anyone see where Sera went?"

"She ran after that mage who fled the battle." Blackwall answered. "I suspect she may have tracked the rest of those mages while she was at it."

"Good. Let's go after her and finish these mages off."

~XoXoXo~

They went in the direction that Sera went while she was tracking that mage. They soon found the blonde elf hiding behind some trees and bushes. She urged the others to be quiet and pointed at what was in front of them. In the forest clearing before them was a whole congregation of mages, all of them with their staves glowing and spells conjuring in their hands. Behind them was the mouth of a very large cave where the rest of them had fortified themselves.

"This could be a problem, boss." Iron Bull pointed out. "We could take these mages in an open field, but if they retreat back into that cave then we're the ones who're easy targets."

"Indeed. I cannot disable all their magic on my own." Cassandra voiced in.

Now was the time for mind and might. What to do? Hmmm. A wide grin spread across Rajmael's face when his eyes caught a hold of some red, thorny vines. Rashvine. Perfect. He remembered a tactic Nathras taught him when they wanted to get rid of an infestation of giant spiders that had taken up residence in some old ruins his clan was investigating.

"Cassandra. Blackwall. Varric. I want you to carefully gather up as much of that rashvine as you possibly can, and quickly. As for the rest of us, we are going to drive them right into that cave."

"Um, didn't I just say that was a bad thing?" Bull questioned.

Vivienne didn't think it was such a good idea either. "Are you quite sure you know what you're doing, dear?"

Sera loosed three arrows into three different enemy eye sockets without even thinking. "Howdja like that, mage-pissers!"

"You heard the lady!" Rajmael laughed as he threw a fire ball at the enemy.

Solas tapped into the Fade and used it to sap the magic from the rogue mages' hostile spells with a Dispel attack, giving Iron Bull the perfect opportunity to charge in, screaming and swinging his axe like a maniac. With their magic dispelled and a bloodthirsty qunari chopping their fellows in kebabs, the surviving mages quickly retreated into the cave, screaming like little girls.

With the mages now holed inside the cave, Cassandra approached Rajmael and carefully handed him several sacks full of fresh rashvine. "I hope this was worth it, Herald." The Seeker scolded. "What do you intend do with this? Give them blisters?"

Rajmael carefully took the sacks with that wide grin on his face. "Seeker, relax. If you smiled more often you'd probably have to beat all the guys off with a stick."

"I do that every day in the training yard, anyway." Cassandra scowled. "What do you need that much rashvine for, anyhow?"

"Just some good, old-fashioned Dalish tactics, Cassandra." Rajmael winked at her and made his way to the cave. "Just relax, and we'll use skill instead of swords."

Rajmael pressed his back against the edge of the cave's entrance so no offensive spells could target him. "All mages inside this cave, we are with the Inquisition…."

"We know who you are! Herald of Andraste!" An older, nasally voice shouted. "We will no longer bow before your Chantry or pathetic Maker!"

"Look, I don't have time for a theological debate with murdering prick like you." Rajmael continued. "So here's the deal: come out now and I promise we'll kill you quickly. If you don't, you're going to die in horrible pain. This is your only chance."

"How is dying a choice?"

"It isn't! It's an inevitability! But if you don't come out right now, I swear to everything I hold sacred, you will die in agonizing pain, crying for mercy!" Rajmael yelled back. "And I'm giving you five seconds to decide."

"We won't yield to the likes of you, Herald!" Enchanter Crowley spat. "We shall assume our rightful godhood that you and your precious Chantry tried to deny us! We shall be the rulers and progenitors of a new Age!"

Well, he tried. Rajmael tossed the sacks of rashvine into the cave and threw several small fireballs at them. "Don't say I didn't warn you!" Rajmael ran as fast as he could away from the cave a smoke began to billow from the burning rashvine. He and his companions stood well enough away from the cave and watched.

"Okay. What're we waitin' for?" Sera asked impatiently.

"We can't let those malificarum just stay there." Cassandra insisted. "We must finish them off now!"

"Just watch." Rajmael answered as he lit his pipe. "They'll be dead soon enough. Be sure to kill anyone who comes out of there. It'll be the merciful thing to do."

What was he talking about? Cassandra decided to just wait and see what happens.

"Smoke!?" Crowley laughed. "Is this all the might Herald of Andraste can do!? Aha-ha-ha!" Crowley's cackling soon turned into agitated coughing. Then into loud hacking. Finally the cave was filled with frantic screams mixed with desperate hacking as the smoke became thicker and thicker within the cave.

A disturbed look swept across Vivienne and Sera's face as those horrible screams filled their ears. Blackwall, Cassandra and Iron Bull were obviously disturbed but shocked. Having spent their whole lives on the battlefield they were used to all manners of terrible deaths. But Rajmael just stood there enjoying the cold, early spring day like he didn't have a care in the world while he smoked his pipe.

Soon enough mages began to run panicking out of the cave, screaming and hocking as if something were in their lungs that they had to get out. They began to roll on the ground holding the chests in pain and clawing at their own eyes. On Rajmael's signal Varric and Sera shot down all the mages that made it of the cave.

In a few minutes the smoke cleared and the horrible screaming stopped. Curiosity caught hold of Varric, Iron Bull and Sera, and they inspected the bodies of the mages who made it outside.

Varric quickly averted his eyes from the bodies. "Andraste's firm, round tits."

"Damn!" Bull swore at the sight.

"Holy, friggin'…!" Sera doubled over and looked like she was going to puke.

The bodies of the mages were covered in deep red rashes and blistering boils that were weeping blood. Blood was also seeping out of the mouths and noses, even their eyes were blistered red and bleeding. Suddenly killing them definitely seemed like the merciful thing to do.

"What in Andraste's name did you do?" Cassandra asked abhorred.

"Would you ever touch rashvine?" Rajmael asked as he emptied the ashes out of his pipe. "No, of course not, it leaves a rash so nasty and harmful that the most extreme cases need to be amputated. And if it is burned the smoke will make anything it comes in contact with blister and bleed, especially the lungs and throat, and your will suffer until you literally drown in your own blood. And as you can see, these people tried to claw out their own eyes, throats and guts to make the pain stop."

"That's foul way to kill someone." Blackwall commented dismally.

"Look what these mages did to the people who lived in this region." Rajmael defended. "They were not going to get away with what they've done! I gave them the chance for mercy and they didn't take it. I can't help that they were blinded by delusions of grandeur to take the easy way out."

"We still have the rogue templars to contend with." Solas reminded solemnly. "How do you intend to approach them? I doubt horticultural warfare will work as easily on them."

"Actually, I was thinking we could just kill them and be done with it." Rajmael answered seriously. "Believe it or not, I don't actually like templars, and would prefer to kill them myself."

~XoXoXo~

The templars fortified themselves in a small canyon by the waterfall leading directly south from the Broken Bridge on the Western Road. The templars fortifications were made to be as impenetrable as possible with spiked barricades and fences that favored their close quarter tactics and heavy armor. And if any uninvited guests came to drive them out they'd be cut down by the steel of a bunch of mad templars or be impaled on one of the long wooden spikes. This was going to be more fun than killing those mages.

The templars' position allowed them to see anyone coming their way, which was a good thing because the Herald and his entourage were hard to miss. The disgraced Chantry knights stood in ranked formation with the swords and shields ready, and their commander stood in front to greet the Herald.

"Hold, there!" Knight-Captain Beaufort commanded. "So you are the blaspheming heathen who dares claim to be the favored of our Maker's Bride? I am unimpressed!"

"If it is at all possible, dear, I suggest we try to conscript these templars into the Inquisition." Vivienne proposed. "I'm sure Commander Cullen needs as many of his former brethren as possible."

"I would advise against it." Solas interjected. "These templars broke their oaths simply to satisfy their fanatical need to kill."

"Aye, and there's nothing worse than an oathbreaker." Blackwall agreed hatefully. "Ya can't trust any of 'em."

"Cassandra, you believe in death before disgrace, right?" Rajmael asked.

"Yes. Whole-heartedly." Cassandra answered truthfully.

"Well, I'd say these templars have disgraced themselves plenty." Rajmael reminded everyone. "Now they must pay for their transgressions in the only manner that befits their crimes." Rajmael stepped forward to address the rogue templars. He could feel the ones in the back ranks trying to suppress the magic around him, but his connection to the Fade was too strong for their weak wills. Rajmael remembered his little promise to Vivienne. "Would you templars be so kind as to get in line and throw yourselves on my sword in a neat and orderly fashion? Enchanter Vivienne would greatly appreciate it!"

Vivienne scoffed and rolled her eyes in annoyance while Bull, Varric and Sera laughed about it.

"You shall not usurp our duty, vile mage!" Beaufort ranted. "Our duty was handed down to us by Andraste herself! Your kind are a blemish in the eyes of—ACKGH!" A ball of fire struck the mouthy knight right on his helmet before he could finish his rhetoric.

"You templars talk too much." Rajmael stated with his smoking from the spell he cast.

"KILL HIM!" The Knight-Commander screamed with his hair on fire.

The templars didn't even bother to stay in formation and just wildly charged the heathen elf that dared to strike at them. Their swords and maces flashed in the sunlight as they readied to murder the Herald before them. But their blades and cudgels passed through him as though he were made of air, while Rajmael's veilfire blade phased though their armor and sliced through the meat, flesh and bone that was protected beneath. Their weapons fell from their hand as blood spurted from beneath their visors and the five attacking templars dropped dead before the incorporeal mage.

More templars poured from the barricaded canyon, cursing wildly and screaming the Maker's wrath. Rajmael assumed his sword stance. "Enasalin!" he cried as he charged forward with unnatural speed, becoming one with the Veil as he dashed past and through his enemies like a ghost, cutting, slicing and severing each templar he phased through, and stopped right in the middle of their encampment. The templars behind him all fell down dead in an instant.

Cassandra couldn't believe how quickly this was happening. How could a mage move so quickly? Even as this all unfolded before her eyes, she still couldn't believe that a mage would intentionally engage so many templars in combat and cut them down with such ease. Cassandra and the others quickly followed after the Herald, and did their best not to trip on all the dead bodies he left behind.

Rajmael followed after the so-called Knight Commander to the back of the encampment and found himself surrounded by five differently armed templars. Two were armed with shields and swords, one was armed with a giant hammer, another, a rogue, was armed with dual-daggers, and the last one was stringing a bow. What fun.

Rajmael threw down a lightning bolt attack that struck the two shield-bearers simultaneously, and cooked them like a Wintersend turkey, they screamed horribly as they died; templar armor always made perfect conductors for electric attacks. The archer launched an ice-enchanted arrow at the elf, but Rajmael deflected the projectile at the knife-wielder and got her right between the eyes and made her head shatter. Before the archer had time to knock another arrow, Rajmael threw a fireball right at his head and engulfed it in flames. The archer screamed and ran around panicking and accidently fell of the ledge and was impaled on the spiked palisade below.

The big brute of a templar bull-rushed Rajmael with surprising speed. He struck Rajmael with the pommel of his weapon and sent the Herald back a few feet. The brute reared back his hammer for a powerful strike to smash the elf's head, but Rajmael struck the shaft of the warhammer with a counter-attack and cut the weapons head right off. The elven mage doved low and in one wide arc, he cut his opponents legs off right above the knees. The templar fell with a thud, screaming in ungodly pain and fright as the bloody stumps where legs used to be kicked wildly. Rajmael was quickly annoyed by the man's screaming, so he stomped on his throat to silence him.

Knight-Commander Beaufort threw off his helmet, revealing his now burnt-patched hair and singed face, and charged with his sword drawn. This man obviously never met a mage who could put up a real fight. Rajmael blocked the man's blade and shattered it to pieces with his sylvanwood sword, then sent the man flying with a mind blast. Beaufort slammed against the canyon wall with a disturbingly loud crunch that smashed his armor and broke his body.

Cassandra and the others caught up to Rajmael as he grabbed one of the spiked poles and made his way to the crippled Knight. Beaufort vainly tried to crawl away from the Herald, but was kicked on to his back and pressed down by Rajmael's barefoot. The elf raised the pike high above his head and aimed it precisely at the defeated knight under him. "You impressed yet?"

Beaufort opened his mouth to curse the heathen elf, but before a word could escape his lips the pike was driven through his lips, busted out all his teeth, and was driven down his mouth and out the back of his head, pinning his burned skull to the ground. The blood from his head soaked the earth beneath him.

Cassandra admitted to herself before that Rajmael's skill and magic was impressive, that he stood down that Pride Demon was proof of that, but there have been many mages that have been used to kill such demons. She had never before seen a mage engage so many templars and make such carnage out of them. Perhaps putting her faith in him wasn't the false course of action after all.

Damn. Varric hadn't seen so many dead templars in one place since Hawke singlehandedly took on the entire Order back in Kirkwall. Whatever magic or skill this Herald possessed was definitely worth writing about. It made him actually feel sorry about the poor bastards who tried to go up against him. Varric needed to tell this to the boys back at the tavern in Haven.

Blackwall had never seen anything like this in his whole life. Granted, he never spent much time with mages, but mages were supposed to call down fire or talk with spirits, not chop up men like they were minced meat. What style of swordsmanship did the Herald use? He had never seen such technique before, purpose and skill combined with accurate power. Was it an elven style? Maker's balls, maybe he should ask him for a…lesson or two. Or maybe not, that'd be a little embarrassing.

Mages engaging templars in direct combat was always a foolhardy notion. Mages who were arrogant or ignorant enough to commit to such folly were always quickly put down. But not this one. Vivienne had studied the ways of the Knight-Enchanter, as befitted a mage of her standing, but even she would never engage a whole company of armed templars alone. Rajmael, however, not only engaged them, he eviscerated them, literally. Elven magic was indeed a powerful thing. Shame they choose to live like vagabonds.

Rajmael cleaned the blood of his blade and breathed the fire out his lungs as turned to his party members. All of them had a look of surprise on their face. "What? Why're you looking at me like that? Do I got something on my face?" They all just continued to stare like he was crazy or something. "Well, wipe those silly looks off your face, you guys look ridiculous. We still got to rendezvous with our men and meet with Master Dennet."

~XoXoXo~

The company of the Herald met with Corporal Vale and the other Inquisition camped just outside Master Dennet's farmstead. Dennet was the former Master of the Stables to Arl Eamon of Redcliffe. He retired shortly after the Blight to manage his own farm with his family after the Blight. The various farmsteads here have since pledged to him for protection as well as leadership. According to his reputation, he breeds finer horses than any that can be found in Val Royeaux, but the stable-masters and Chevaliers would never admit that a lowly dog-lord produces finer horses than they can. The Inquisition on the other hand, was not as picky. If they could get horses from Master Dennet they could supply mounts and beasts of burden for the whole cause.

Rajmael knocked on Dennet's house door, hopefully this wouldn't be too tedious. "Yes, yes. Come on in." Dennet invited. Rajmael entered and observed the old horse master. He was a bald man with a thick white beard on a granite chin, and had green eyes. His face and hands were deeply tanned from years of working in the sun, and right now he had a quirked eyebrow on his face. "So, you're with the Inquisition, eh? Funny, didn't think you'd be a halla-rider."

"Do you have a problem with people who ride halla?" Rajmael asked calmly.

"Oh, no offense meant." Dennet clarified. "Those halla are damned majestic beasts. I'd give my right arm to ride one of those."

"We came here to seek you aid, Master Dennet." Cassandra stated. "The Inquisition is in dire need of mounts."

"Yes, I'm sure you are. I doubt walking back and forth between countries is easy. But I'm afraid I can't help you at the moment." Dennet answered.

"And why not?" Cassandra continued.

"I can't just send the best horses in all of Ferelden across the Frostbacks with all these bandits roving around." Dennet explained. "And I need to look after the farmers here first before I can even think about lending aid to anyone else."

"What sort of problems have you been having?" Rajmael inquired.

Dennet scratched his head apprehensively. "The wolves here have become a real problem. Wolves are fierce animals by nature, but these ones are vicious. They attack like they want to kill, like when the darkspawn or the undead attacked this region. And the bandits are no better and their raids have become more frequent, and more sophisticated. If you can handle the wolves and guarantee that the farmers will be safe from the bandits I'll be glad to give you the horses you need."

The wheels in Rajmael's head began to turn as a smile spread across his face. "Tell you what, how about we sweeten the deal. We'll make sure that your farmers are kept safe from both the bandits and the wolves, and if you agree to come to Haven and act as Stable Master for the Inquisition, I'll let you ride my halla, Neirin."

That caught Dennet's attention. "Are you serious?"

"I swear to Ghilan'nain, The Mother of all Halla." Rajmael promised.

"That's certainly a tempting offer and you cause does seem a worthy one." Dennet admitted. "Alright, you hold your end of the bargain, and I'll commit my horses and myself to your cause."

"Perfect." The Herald and the Horse Master shook on it.

~Two Hours Later~

It turns out the wolves were possessed by some kind of Hunger Demon that turned the whole pack into hunger-crazed beasts. They quickly dispatched the otherworldly creature back to the Fade and the wolves returned to normal. One of the beasts even licked Solas' hand before trotting back off into the woods. Now they were trying to deal with the bandits that have been plaguing both the refugees and farmers alike.

Iron Bull finished off the last bandit in this encampment by cleaving his sternum open while Sera looted the dead. There were about ten bandits here, a scouting party it looked like, right around the King's Highway.

"This is odd." Blackwall stated as he inspected one of the dead bandits. "These were no ordinary bandits. These men had training and knew how to use their weapons."

"Yeah, that's for damn sure." Varric agreed. "And check out their weapons. These swords are dwarven steel, way too high quality for common garden variety bandits to be using. "

"If I was to hazard a guess, my dear, I'd say these are mercenaries." Vivienne pointed out.

"Mercenaries are nothing more than hired thugs." Cassandra said. "We need to find out who's been sending them and why."

"Got somthin' here!" Sera called out and handed Rajmael a piece of paper she found in one of the bandits' pockets.

It was a letter detailing orders for the bandits to take care of any Inquisition forces they come across, and to make sure the refugees and farmers continued to be hindered. Why? Why would anyone pay mercenaries to play the role of bandits? The letter also had details about where their main encampment was. The Grand Forest Villa. That is where they might find their answers.

~The Grand Forest Villa~

The Grand Forest Villa was constructed back in the late Storm Age by an ancestor of the current Arl of Redcliffe. During and After the Orlesian Occupation the Villa fell into disrepair and had been the resting place of vagabonds and bandits alike. It was built so far out of the way from Redcliffe that no one bothered to reclaim it, but it seems these mercenaries did.

These mercenaries were definitely a cut above normal cut throats, whoever hired these men chose well. But they weren't expecting a frontal assault by elite soldiers, mages and rogues. And the Villa was originally made to be a luxurious manor, not a fortress. The mercenaries inside were quickly dispatched until only their commander was left.

The mercenary captain was a tall, powerfully built man wielding a large axe. He cursed and spat at the intruders before making an attempt at the Herald. Rajmael instantaneously reached into the Fade and froze his enemy in place with a powerful ice spell. The mercenary just stood there frozen like a block of ice with his axe held above his head.

Rajmael approached the merc-turned-icicle. "Who are you? Actually, I don't care who you are, I want to know who hired you, why, and where can I find them? And tell me quickly, I kinda wanna be somewhere else."

"Fuck you!" The captain spat furiously.

"No, see, that's where you're wrong." Rajmael corrected demeaningly. "You see, I'm not the one who's fucked right now. You on the other hand are frozen solid, and I can shatter your legs glass and leave you out here to die. And if you're lucky, a bear will find you and finish you off, but that's not likely. The most likely scenario is you'll stay here and literally rot, contract gangrene and then the smell will attract the rats and flies that'll slowly eat your rotting body alive. So why don't you tell me what I want to know and we can make this easier on us both?"

That hateful scowl never left the man's face, but Rajmael could see the thought going around behind his eyes. "If I tell you, elf, will you kill me quickly?"

"You won't even know you're dead until you reach the after-life." Rajmael promised.

"I don't know who hired us." The mercenary grunted. "Some private party hired us by raven. Said they wanted us to attack the peasants and Inquisition forces."

"Why?"

"Don't know. All I know is that they didn't want anyone's attention over at Vallamar. It's an ancient dwarven outpost just north of here." The captain pointed his eyes towards the nearby desk. "They sent me a location and key to the thaig to collect our payment when the job was done."

"You had to know attacking the refugees and the Inquisition would only get you killed." Cassandra condemned.

"Job's a job, woman. We all gotta eat somehow." The merc grunted as breath became labored with anxiety. "Now finish me."

Rajmael placed one hand under the mercenary's chin and the other on the back of his head. In one clean motion Rajmael snapped the man's neck like it was dry twig. The sound of his vertebrae cracking reverberated through the villa and he died instantly.

He grabbed the map and key the recently deceased mercenary revealed to him. Strange. The map was of some kind of foreign origins and dotted with strange runes that were completely alien to Rajmael. Nonetheless, it told them of the sight they needed to investigate. Some kind of cave near Lake Luthias.

~XoXoXo~

The path to the cave was well hidden. A craggy trail pressed against the side of a cliff just behind Lake Luthias that led up behind a waterfall. The precisions with which this path was hidden was surprising, but not as surprising as what they found behind the waterfall. Three angry, well-armed dwarves guarding a stone door.

"Chantry bastards!" One of them cursed.

"Kill 'em! Boss want them dead!" spat another.

The third one smashed a glass vial to the ground and all three disappeared in a puff of smoke. They reappeared right behind the intruders with their knives ready to kill. Rajmael phase shifted so that the first one leapt through him like a rock through wind, and cut his head off in one deft swing. The second one was dead the instant he made the mistake of trying to take Cassandra from behind; her sword was already drawn and pointed behind her, the carta thug impaled himself on her blade. The last one was shot by one of Bianca's bolts through the head and nailed to the rocky cliffside wall.

"Looks like carta." Varric pointed out. "But not any outfit I'm familiar with."

"With the rebel mages and templars battling in the open like this, the carta must be making a fortune supplying lyrium to both sides." Cassandra surmised. "They must be using Vallamar to smuggle lyrium discretely."

Rajmael inspected the stone door these men were guarding. If what he knew about dwarves was correct, then this door and the key to unlocking it, would lead them inside the very earth itself. He used the key and followed the path the door opened inside the very cliff.

What they found inside the tunnels was amazing. There was a thaig, an underground dwarven outpost, right in the middle of the Hinterlands and built into the very walls of a deep chasm. The subterranean roof was broken open to the blue sky above them while building complexes were constructed into the walls and gazing down on them, and holding up the weight of the earth surrounding them were the glorious ruined statues of Paragons long dead but unforgotten by the Stone. It was magnificent!

Rajmael's awe was caught short when he heard a loud horn blowing and echoed throughout the chasm. An alarm that warned the carta of the intruders. In a few seconds the bridge that crossed the chasm and over to where Rajmael and the others stood was swarming with these dwarven criminals, all armed to the teeth and hungry for blood.

Dwarves had a natural resistance to magic, but Rajmael didn't care. He quickly conjured magical runes on to the ground and the unfortunate dwarves that stepped on them instantly froze in an explosion of ice and shattered like glass. With their initial charge halted, Iron Bull and Blackwall charged forward and made use of the narrow passage of the bridge, and their own size and skill, to cut down the larger number of dwarves in their path, cutting them down and throwing them off the bridge with prolonged screams that ended in resounding splats that echoed throughout the cavern.

Realizing that they couldn't take the intruders head-on, the carta members retreated back into the stone buildings to fortify themselves. Varric and Sera whittled their numbers down with arrows as their enemy fell back as the rest of their companions followed after the Cart. The dwarves locked the stone slab-like door behind them, but Bull just spat in his hands, rubbed them together and slammed his shoulder up against it, and the door fell down and crushed the thugs standing behind it.

A very large dwarf shoved his way through the other carta members with an axe twice as tall as he was. The dwarf had short, messy beard and was as wide as he was tall, solid slab of meat and muscle with hard hatchet-face that was twisted dirty look. "Enough of this!" The dwarf growled. "You Inquisition types have caused enough trouble already!"

"And just what the fuck do you think you're doing here, runt?" Rajmael asked abrasively.

"You wanna know?" The dwarf rebutted sarcastically. "You won't live long enough to do anything about it. We hired those mercenaries to attack the farmers and refugees to keep the local authorities' eyes of our little enterprise with the mages and templars."

That signature scowl appeared on Cassandra's face and Rajmael knew then that these dwarves should be afraid. "You seek to profit from this crisis and have no care for it hurts!?"

"Ha! The Carta's always made a fortune off you Chantry chumps whenever you wanted to hurt people!" The dwarf laughed. "We're just simply working without the middleman now." The thug assumed a battle stance and his men readied to fight. "And you've been interfering with us long enough!"

A sense of dread like none Rajmael had felt before swelled inside him as a great shadow suddenly loomed over the carta gangsters. A vile creature of rot and evil wearing viciously crude armor brought a gargantuan hammer down on the muscle-bound gangster and smashed his head down into his gut. Then in one fell swoop it crushed the remaining dwarves. This is why swooping is bad. Especially when it's being done by a Hurlock Alpha. And it wasn't alone.

"HOLY SHIT!" Rajmael screamed. How did Blackwall not sense them? "Blackwall! How many are there!?" he asked frantically as he threw down a lightning bolt at the darkspawn. It killed two of the lesser ones, but did nothing to the Alpha.

"Hard to say. Just kill the damned things!" Blackwall screamed as he charged the Alpha with his shield and sword.

"Ew. Eww. EWWW!" Sera cried as she loosed several arrows into a hurlock crossbowman.

Cassandra and Iron Bull engaged the other hurlocks. Cassandra called down a holy smite to purge attack the taint that swam in these vile creatures, while Iron Bull expertly swung his axe at them whilst keeping a safe distance. Hurlocks were vicious but they weren't trained. Their grotesque black blood soon stained the warriors' weapons and the ground as Cassandra beheaded her target and the Bull split his in half.

As the others took on the lesser darkspawn, the Grey Warden and the Hurlock Alpha fought as viciously as sworn enemies should. Blackwall blocked a powerful overhead strike from the Alpha's hammer with his shield, the force of the blow almost brought the Warden to his knees. Blackwall quickly thrusted his sword through the crude armor, into the creature's ribs and out the back of its body, but that wasn't enough, apparently. The Alpha grabbed the base of the Warden's weapon and snapped it off while the blade was still inside its body, jammed a powerful kick into the human's chest, and swung around with that powerful hammer right on the Warden.

Blackwall barely had enough time to raise his shield and block the incredible attack. But the sheer force of the blow sent him flying into a nearby wall and smashed the sarcophagi resting on it. Blackwall was dazed and his companions were too busy to aid him. The darkspawn pulled the blade out of its back and readied for another assault. Out of the corner of Blackwall's eye he saw a handle of some kind and reached for it. Maker, please let it be a weapon.

The Hurlock's hammer fell down, Blackwall rolled out of the way and grabbed the handle, not caring what it was and swung at the Alpha's knee. An earsplitting thunderclap resounded from the attack as the creature's knee gave way and the creature was brought down screaming with electricity surging through its body. Turns out the weapon that the handle belonged to was a mace and, apparently, it had a lightning rune. Blackwall cocked back his arm, the mace surged with the power of a thunderstorm, and struck at the Alpha's helmed head with one deft strike. His fist clutched the handle of the mace so hard his knuckles were white and the muscles of his arms felt like they would burst from the amount force he swung it with. Thunder clapped inside the thaig as the mace hit the darkspawn's crude helmet, the instant it made contact the creature's head exploded in a ball of electricity. Bits of brain matter, chunks of skull and splashes of black ichor splattered all over the room and Blackwall's armor.

Blackwall went to his knees, breathing heavy with a wild look on his face and bewilderment in his. He did it. He killed it. He killed a Hurlock Alpha. He rose back to his feet and tried to hide the sense of pride he felt from this accomplishment.

The others had finished of the rest of the darkspawn and they were looking at the blood covered Warden before him.

"Great job, Blackwall!" Iron Bull bellowed.

"Indeed, truly an accomplishment of a Grey Warden." Cassandra commented.

"Yeah! Gotta a bit of brains on your beard, though." Sera chuckled.

"It…It was nothing. That's what we Grey Wardens do, right." Blackwall said humbly.

"Might I see that weapon, Blackwall?" Rajmael asked. Blackwall gladly handed Rajmael the newly acquired mace. It was unlike any other mace that he had ever seen or heard of. The head was in the shape of two eagles embracing with their wings spreading wide and upwards to act as the piercers of the weapon. Beset at the base of the head was a magnificent, masterly crafted lightning rune that was centuries old, it made the head crackle and surge with power as it moved.

On the handle there was an inscription. "For thy heart, which has wronged me." Curious. Rajmael inspected the ruined sarcophagus from which the weapon had been resting and noticed the runes on the stone coffin. "Varric can you read these runes?"

Varric looked at the inscription with a curious eye. "Ehh, it's some form ancient dwarven, before the fall of the Great Thaigs during the First Blight. Something, something. Thunderstrike…something, something, the witch…was taken as a trophy after she was slain in battle by the Alamarri warlord known as Dwarfson." A look of realization bloomed on Varric's face. "Holy shit. I think you just found the personal weapon of the Avvar war leader Morrighan'nan!"

That name seemed to ring a bell in Rajmael's head. "The lover and enemy of Luthias the Dwarfson? Who brought the ways of the Berserkers to the Alamarri tribesman?"

Varric knew every great story that ended in tragedy. "Yeah! This thaig must've been one of the places that sent warriors to aid Luthias after the Battle of Red Falls. One of the warrior's must've taken Morrighan'nan's weapon as a trophy of war and was buried with it."

"Looks like you've got yerself a pretty bit'o history there, Blackwall." Sera laughed.

"Quite so." Rajmael agreed as he handed the historic weapon back to Blackwall. "You're the first to use this weapon in about thirteen hundred years, Blackwall. It's only fitting that you wield it from here on out."

Blackwall graciously accepted the weapon and took a moment to admire it. "I like it. Maces are better weapons than most people give credit for. And I'd like to see what else it can do against the sorry bastards who're dumb enough to attack us."

~XoXoXo~

With the carta dealt with, they all reemerged back to the surface and back to the Crossroads where Corporal Vale was waiting for them. Rajmael handed him a map with marked locations dotted on it. "Here, take this map and send a raven to the War Council requesting watchtowers to be built at these points. These other locations are areas where our men can confiscate the weapons, supplies and necessities that the rebels and mercenaries were using. Gather them, then divide them up equally amongst the refugees. They'll be safer here now." Rajmael promised.

"Oh, thank you…ser" Corporal Vale remembered that Rajmael didn't like his title. "You've given these people a real chance here. None of us will forget it." The corporal saluted respectfully and ran over to his men to gather the supplies for the people.

A short time later Rajmael looked on with a humble sense of accomplishment as he saw the Inquisition's men handing out blankets, food and madicine to the people of this region. It was gratifying to know that his efforts were having immediate effect.

By stabilizing the region Rajmael now had the respect and reputation to meet with either the Rebel Mages or the Rogue Templars on equal ground and with founded authority. Both factions could be powerful allies, and either one could lead to their success in closing the Breach. The only problem is both sides have their own agenda, and either side could be filled with dire enemies. But who to seek out first?