Breaking the Jaws: Part II
The Inquisitor and his company took a little time to explore the Hold and gather some supplies before setting out again. Rajmael hated to admit this, and he never would, but after observing these people, even briefly, he realized that these human barbarians were more in common with his own people than any other culture he had seen in his time with the Inquisition. Just like back with Clan Lavellan, everyone worked, everyone had a job, a duty to perform which contributed to the daily function of the tribe. The hunters would bring back game and fish while the healers and gatherers would collect herbs and other necessities, and the craftsmen made sure that all the equipment and buildings in the Hold were functional. And the most distinctive trait both the Dalish and the Avvar had in common, was that everyone here, the young, old, hunters, craftsmen and apprentices alike, were all trained in the ways of combat. If a threat came, everyone was expected to fight to the bitter end to protect their kin. There was no room for petty customs or niceties, no room for weakness. Everyday they faced the harsh challenges of nature with only their own will to drive them on, and being outside the Chantry's grace, there would be no assistance against any enemy who would attack them, which was often the Chantry itself and its faithful. The only difference between the Dalish and the Avvar was that the mountain men had a place to call home, and the elves did not.
Before they leave for the Island of The Lady in the middle of the lake, Rajmael decided to take up Auger Siobahn's invitation and gather more information about this land and its magic. Hopefully she could give them more information on the Jaws of Hakkon. He would just have to make sure he kept a close eye on Cassandra, and make sure that Siobahn knew that this Seeker was already taken.
When they were approaching the Auger's hut, Rajmael felt a strange yet familiar form of magical energy emanating from inside. It was very similar to the aura that Solas projected when he was using his own magic. The hut was larger than the average living space, a sign of importance, and was sturdily built from the stones of the mountain, with a column of smoke billowing from the roof. As they entered, they discovered that Siobahn was not alone inside the hut.
"Behold, worthy gods of this land, past and present! The man whose hand blazes across the world and guards against the darkness." The brazier in the room blazed with blue flames as Siobahn declared Rajmael's presence before a choir of spirits that looked upon the elf with the gaze of respected elders.
"Hello!" Cole greeted eagerly.
"Aw, shit!" Bull cursed.
Cassandra's hand reached for her sword. "What is this?"
"No, no. No!" Sera denied as if saying it would make it true.
"Be at ease. They mean no harm." Solas assured.
"As long as they don't do anything stupid." Blackwall warned.
"Huh. Well, isn't this new and different." Varric said sarcastically.
"Do be careful, Inquisitor. I see no wards in this shabby...hovel." Vivienne advised with her trademark haughty attitude.
"Come and be welcome." The buxom shaman greeted with her thick accent. "I, Siobahn an Igraine O'Bear-Hold, Shaman of Bear-Hold to the north, greet ye, Herald of Change. As do the gods of this lands people, and the gods of their ancestors. We are honored to meet ye, Inquisitor." Siobahn bowed her head in respect, and the spirits she summoned followed suite before disappearing back into the fade like smoke in the wind.
"Did...you just introduce me to spirits?" Rajmael asked. Unlike most of the others, he was more curious than stunned.
"Your hand burns like the Tower of Ishal to the denizens of the spirit world, they were eager to see you." Siobahn answered. "And besides, they've been pestering me ever since ye arrived. Showing ye off to them was the only way to get them to shut up."
"You...truly worship spirits as gods?" Cassandra asked skeptically.
"We offer to them, Daughter of Dragon-Slayers." Siobahn deliberately clarified. "We do not pray to any god that will weather out the ages and give protection and salvation to the whole world. There's no such a thing. Our gods have watched over us, guided us, ever since the first tribes settled in the Frostbacks, and in return we give them the respect they deserve."
"But then why pray to them, if you do not truly believe they are divine beings?" Cassandra's Andrastian mind was almost incapable of comprehending that.
"Each god is different, fulfilling their specific role in the Beyond and this world. The fisherman offer to Bjorn Reed-Beard for good catches while the shamans call to the Lady for the dead, and all of us call to Korth The Mountain-Father, who rules the Frostbacks. The gods are a reflection of who we are, and that reflection gives us strength. That is why we offer to them and invoke their names for when we have need of them." Siobahn explained. "But please, enough philosophy. Come in and share my fire, I wish to look at ye."
Siobahn gazed at all them with a sight that seemed to look straight into
Author's Note:
Just like in my last story with Siobahn, I decided to have a different reaction to each character, kind of like the game.
Cassandra:
"Hmm. How interesting." Siobahn stated. The previous lust in her eyes had been replaced with curiosity.
"What is so interesting?" Cassandra asked defensively.
"Unlike so many Chantry slaves, ye don't let yer faith blind ye, or wield it like a weapon, but instead wear it like armor against all that would harm you." The Avvar mage spoke. "But beneath all that armor beats the heart of a woman. A woman with secret desires...desires that are now fulfilled." Siobahn smiled slyly at the Seeker, making Cassandra blush. "Ye have found a special place in yer heart for a man who does not share yer faith. A rare and truly wonderful thing."
"How...how could you know that." Cassandra asked turning her face away to hide her blushing cheeks.
"Ha! Because it's painfully obvious." Siobahn chuckled. "I see the way ye look at that elven arse of his. It's like ye're trying to peel him out of his clothes with yer eyes."
Everyone started snickering under their breath, even with Cassandra giving them her signature death glare. And Rajmael smiling at her the way he did didn't help matters.
"Keep yer faith and yer love close, Seeker." Siobahn said cautiously. "For both will be tested through fire in the days to come."
Cole:
"Hello. My name is Cole." Cole greeted.
"A name ye have chosen for yeself. So remarkable." Siobahn looked at Cole with gentle appreciation. "A spirit who became a mortal to help others."
"Being more human makes me able to understand people, and how to help them." The living Spirit of Compassion affirmed.
"Yer choice makes the world richer for it." Siobahn said truthfully. "Yer choice opens you to all the joys and tragedies of being mortal, but no gift is more precious than compassion. It is honor to meet ye."
Cole bashfully hid his face under his hat. "Your words make me feel warm inside. I really like your...words."
Blackwall:
"And so another Lowland knight walks with hypocrisy written on his face." The Avvar mage said blithely. "But unlike the rest of them, ye let yer guilt weigh ye down, and tried to hide it by wearing another's face."
Blackwall's eyes went wide with shock. "How...how could you know that?"
"Because ye wear yer guilt on yer chest like a badge of shame." Siobahn answered.
"Why don't look somewhere else?" Blackwall scoffed. "Aren't there some demons for you to consort with?"
"Ye hate to be reminded of yer crime because the shame hurts." The shaman continued. "Good. But be careful not to let its burden drag you down and become vulnerable. Let it serve as a reminder as to why ye most be more than the common man."
Iron Bull:
Siobahn looked at the one-eyed curiously. "Hmm. The last time Qun-creature from the North I saw didn't have horns. Yers look great."
"Heh-heh. Thanks the horns are awesome." Iron Bull chuckled. "But I'm not a 'Qun-creature' anymore. But thanks for noticing."
"Yer not sure where ye belong anymore. Ye fear yerself and what you may become without the name ye once held." Siobahn said cryptically. "Hold on to the comrades ye've made, and they'll keep ye on the right track."
"Er. Right. Let's keep that creepy mag stuff to a minimum, lady." Iron Bull said nervously.
"Ye know what? For some with such big muscles, ye're a wuss." Siobahn scoffed.
"And for a lady with such a nice rack, ass and legs, you creep me out more than most Vints I've met. I kinda like it." Iron Bull growled suggestively.
Dorian:
"Oh-ho-ho! What is this? A mage from the far Northern lands of dragons? Ye're so pretty I almost mistook ye for a lass!" Siobahn laughed.
"Oh, well, thank you. I do take great pride in my self image, grooming, hygiene and magical expertise. Perhaps I could teach your clan a little bit about it before I depart." Dorian said wit his trademark sardonic wit.
Siobahn kept her smile on her face and was unfazed by Dorian jibe. "Ye only strut around like a peacock with yer pretty feathers to get everyone's attention because ye weren't loved enough as a child, weren't ye? Let me guess: mother was a criticizing drunk, yer father never understood ye, and neither of them took the time of day to even give ye a hug or even a sympathetic pat on the back. How am I doing so far?"
"You forgot the part where I would get horribly drunk in the middle of the city and waste my father's coin on expensive elven man-whore's because my parents always forgot my birthday." Dorian clarified.
"It always feels good to rub people's noses in it, and let the unfortunate many despair over what they cannot ever have." Siobahn smiled.
"My dear, you're a woman after my own heart." Dorian sighed. "In another life I might've fallen for you."
"Oh, I'd turn ye down flat in a heartbeat. Sorry, but I only care for real men." Siobahn laughed.
Varric:
Siobahn looked at the dwarven merchant with shocked disbelief and reverence. "Oh, Sweet Lady! Are ye...Varric Tethras?!"
"Why, yes. Yes, I am." Varric winked.
"Korth's beard! I've only read yer 'Tales of the Champion' thirty times! The parts with the Rivaini pirate-lady we're my favorite." Siobahn gushed dreamily. "Truly, ye must be a Paragon of Skalds!"
"And who says the Avvar are barbarians?" Varric said vainly puffing his hairy chest. "I think there's many in the Lowlands who could learn from your example.
"I would love for ye to write another tale of Swords and Shields." Siobahn squealed.
"You're not the only one." Cassandra grumbled under her breath.
Sera:
"I don't care how pretty ya are, don't be lookin' at me with those magey eyes, alright?" Sera pleaded.
"Fine, then don't let me catch ye starin' at me tits." Siobahn countered.
"Aw! That ain't fair!" Sera whined.
"Life isn't fair, and yer petty, childish games do very little to change that." The Avvarian woman glowered.
"Grr! Get out of my brain! No one's supposed to be there!" The elven thief screeched.
Siobahn scoffed mockingly. "Bitch, a flattened midget flea couldn't get into yer brain."
"That's right. I...hey!"
Vivienne:
"Ah. Another Circle lass, I see." Siobahn observed as she looked at the frilly dressed Vivienne. "Would ye care to learn the ways of the Skin-Changer?"
While Vivienne smiled her eyes scowled. "Oh, thank you for the offer, dear, but I doubt there's anything a mage like you could teach me."
Siobahn returned Vivienne's fake smile. "Really? I thought perhaps ye'd like such a skill to help give ye an edge. I mean, ye did lose to another certain Skin-Changer, if I'm not mistaken, and I'm not. I thought maybe ye'd like to know exactly what kind of skill Morrigan used to beat ye at yer own game."
Vivienne's false smile melted from her face and reflected the disgust she felt for that name. "And just how do you know her?"
"I had the good fortune to meet her during the Blight." A mischievous smile crept across Siobahn's face. "Ohhh. And let me tell ye, I'd would've literally killed to have just one bite of a tasty, exotic fruit like her. But unfortunately, someone else had already plucked her."
Vivienne's face grew more disgusted by the shaman's words. "I suppose devious creatures like you would stick together, like fungus. And I assure you, there is nothing an ill-bred apostate like her, or you, with your savage, vile magic, could do to advance in the civilized world. My own mastery of the Game is my real power."
Siobahn's bright white teeth shined through her devious smile. "Really? I thought maybe you could use my magic to turn into something that's worth a damn now. From what I've been given to understand, yer outdated, oppressive, and hypocritical Circle ways have become irrelevant. I suppose that makes ye irrelevant as well. Doesn't it?"
Solas:
The Avvarian shaman stared at the elven apostate with deep curiosity. "How strange. The gods walk beside ye as though ye were a dear friend, or even kin. Yet they say nothing of ye. There is something...very old about yer soul. Something...ancient."
Solas smiled gently and nodded his head to the younger woman. "Your connection and respect for the spirits is most impressive. It is good to meet kindred mages, even in the most unwelcoming of places."
"What manner of mage be ye that not even the spirits know what tongue ye truly speak?" Siobahn's eyes remained cautious and inquisitive. "Apostate or not, ye far more than what ye appear to be."
Rajmael:
Siobahn looked at the Inquisitor as though she were staring at his very soul. "Welcome, Rajmael Yonwyn Lavellan of Clan Lavellan. Swordsman and sorcerer. Victor and victim. Father and brother. Ye have brought much honor to yer people. I have not seen such greatness in a single person's soul since Aedan Star-Fang."
"How can you know such things?" Rajmael inquired.
"I have eyes and ears, and my teacher taught me how to use them." Siobahn answered coyly. "The spirits who have watched yer deeds have told me about ye and yer companions. And they have told me magnificent tales of you. How you muddied the flow of time where the Cliffs are Red. How you vanquished the Nightmare that feeds off the dreams of fear. But they have also told me of yer past." Siobahn's eyes became sorrowful and sympathetic. "The pains and terrors ye have suffered, and what happened to yer family. The only man I know who has suffered as much pain as you is Aedan Star-Fang."
"You...you know the Hero of Ferelden?" Rajmael asked trying to change the subject.
"Oh, aye. He is Mo Dearthaire, a brother to my Hold." The blonde mage answered dreamily. "If I liked men, I'd have pounded him into next Age, because let me tell ye, he's more than a man. He...is...a BEAST! My clan aided him during the Blight. Oh! Which is how I met yer Spymaster. I would have pounced her too if I had the chance. Redheads are always so feisty."
"Hmm, yeah. Redheads..." Iron Bull sighed.
"What was that name you called the Hero of Ferelden?" Cassandra inquired.
"Aedan Star-Fang. It's the Legend-Mark my people gave him after he defeated the Archdemon."
Varric's eyes went wide with excitement. "Ooh! I like the sound of that. But why do you call him that?"
Siobahn smiled widely. "Mo Dearthaire was given the name of the sword he used to slay the Archdemon, for he is the ultimate weapon for his country. Perhaps ye shall earn one yerself one day."
"If you're from another tribe, then just what are you doing here?" Blackwall inquired.
"My Hold is kin to this one, and Chief Sun-Hair has always been a friend to us. My magical skill widely known by the many Avvar Holds, so she asked me to lend my aid to the Auger to help strengthen the arms of her warriors. To help watch them become worthy."
"Wait." Cassandra bade. "What kind of magical aid could you give these warriors? Why do you need to watch them become worthy? Worthy of what?"
"As the warriors train, the gods watch them become worthy of second strength when needed, a sight to see where they need to strike. I make sure they are ready to accept the gods' blessing, and drive the bad spirits away." Siobahn explained not realizing how abhorrent this practice was to Andrastians, and didn't care.
"I see. You make sure both the warrior and the spirit are capable of becoming one with each other." Solas surmised. "To make sure the warrior can handle merging with the spirit, and make sure the spirit is a beneficial one."
"That's impossible." Cassandra denied. "That would mean that everyone here would be an abomination!"
"Only if a bad spirit is linked with a weak mortal." Siobahn assured. "The mages of the Lowlands are weak, living in their gilded cages with no purpose, and do not possess our strength. That is why dark spirits seek to take yer mages: they're easy prey. Ye only have yerselves to blame for abominations."
"There are many hundreds of mages throughout Thedas who go their whole lives without ever encountering a demon outside their Harrowing." Vivienne stated superciliously. "Perhaps its merely your savage, uncivilized ways that's the problem, but I'd rather not be possessed by demons."
Siobahn flashed a dangerous gleamed glare at Vivienne's attitude. "I knew another Circle Mage once, her name was Wynne. She was old enough to be my grandmother, could outdrink a dwarf, and she had better tits and ass than ye do now. And she was anchored to a Spirit of Faith that gave her extraordinary healing powers. But ye? Ye're just another Orlesian. Nothing truly special." Siobahn turned her glare over to the Seeker. "And ye...it's Chantry shites like ye that make the Jaws of Hakkon seem like a good idea. There's a reason why the Hero of Ferelden would do nothing but watch as yer precious Chantry just burned. The most he'd probably do is piss on the ashes."
"What can you tell us about the Jaws of Hakkon?" Rajmael finally asked trying to get the subject back on track. Last thing he needed was a vicious catfight.
Siobahn's lovely face twisted into a disgusted scowl at the mention of that name. "They are not the first band of brutes to bear that name, and all who have were fools. All of them. There is no evil in Hakkon Wintersbreath, sometimes war is necessary. But these idiots? They care only for bloodlust and battle-glory. To murder and die simply for the joy of it. They bastardize the god of Winter and War."
"There have been other groups called the Jaws of Hakkon?" Iron Bull asked.
"Yes. The last group existed many lifetimes ago." The skin-changer answered. "They sought to conquer and destroy the Lowlands, but they in turn were utterly destroyed. Their actions shamed all the gods."
"What can you tell me about that midget-sized giant who leads them? This Gurd Harofsen?" Rajmael asked.
The scowl on Siobahn's intensified and her eyes gleamed with hatred as she growled like an angry bear. "Gurd Harofsen. A petulant child with body and wisdom of a muscle bound troll. Sadly, his mad ambition is matched only by his prowess as a warrior. If it were it not for the fact that we both have guest-welcome in this Hold, I'd've turned into a bear, devoured him, then shite out all over the Basin by now!"
"Not your favorite person I take it?" Rajmael observed sarcastically.
"He's a disgrace to all Avvar, and dishonors Hakkon Wintersbreath!" Siobahn hissed. "I fought in the Blight to stop the world my people lived in from being destroyed. Gurd Harofsen was disgusted by his Hold's peaceful ways and abandoned them to go fighting as mercenary all for the sake of glory. He has the vanity of an Orlesian dandy!"
"But why does he have such hatred for the Lowlands?" Solas inquired.
"After the Blight, when he got bored with killing darkspawn and Lowlanders, he returned to his Hold only to find it destroyed, every one was dying from the taint, so he blamed the Lowlands." Siobahn explained pitiably. "He cursed the gods for not protecting them, and blamed the Lowlanders for not coming to their rescue. But while he puts the blame on others like a sobbing baby, he doesn't think to realize that maybe they all died because he wasn't there to defend them. Then he took what remained of his clan, poisoned their minds with his hatred and anger, and brought them to the old Tevinter ruins and became the Jaws of Hakkon."
"But why does he, and the rest of his...little club, bare the Inquisition, and the Inquisitor, such a violent grudge?" Dorian asked.
"I truly do not know." Siobahn sighed. "Perhaps it is because ye protect the Lowlands he despises, and are called 'The Herald of Andraste', which he sees as a challenge to Hakkon. But whatever it is, he's made ye the object of his grudge."
"Do you have any idea what his plans may be?" Rajmael queried.
"Nay. But whatever they plan is truly vile, for even the spirits avoid them like a plague. Whatever it is they're doing behind those walls of the Tevinter ruin is offensive to the gods, and the spirits are too fearful to even go near them."
That was very disturbing. What could Gurd Harofsen be doing that even the spirits dared not watch? Rajmael now knew the extent of the Hakkonites' strength, and it should help them combat these fanatics should the time come. "We should get to that island now, and maybe we'll find some more answers. Thank you for the information, Siobahn."
"I shall prey to the Mountain-Father and The Lady for yer victory, Inquisitor."
Later at Couldcap Island...
With Svarrah Sun-Hair's blessing and with guest-welcome, Arvid the fisherman graciously lent them use of one of his boats. As they rowed to the Island of the Lady, Rajmael couldn't help but be in awe of this lake. All the thawed snows and mountain streams that came down from the Frostback Mountains flowed here, teeming with fish, making these waters rich with bounty. It was no Lake Calenhad, but it was impressive nonetheless.
While they rowed closer, Rajmael found out why the Avvar avoided this place for fear of angering the spirits: there were literally spirits wandering around it. Not demons, wraiths or even purposeful spirits, more like wisps attracted to the island and wandering all over it. Why were they drawn here?
"Interesting." Solas observed. "I wonder what drew so many spirits to this particular place."
"They watched the dead and dying." Cole answered. "Pressing close, clustered against the Veil until they all fell through, then forgot how to go back."
They reached the small island and the instant they moored the line they all felt this unexplainable sense of dread and foreboding come over all of them like a black cloud. It was as if the very air and soul of this piece of ground was built upon grief and sorrow. What was this?
Sera wrinkled her nose and sniffed the air like something smelled bad. "I smell fish and...sadness? Why does the air smell sad? Stupid Veil, being all...Veil-ly!"
"Fish?" Iron Bull questioned. "I smell...the ocean, spice, and...smoke? Seheron? Oh, that's messed up!"
"What in Andraste's name is this?" Cassandra questioned cautiously.
"This island radiates sadness like a fire does heat, and attracts the spirits here like moths. And they in turn reflect that sadness." Solas explained.
Rajmael's skin felt chilly and clammy, like a thousand ice-cold stings were piercing his flesh. And well of regret and pain erupted in his chest like. He hadn't felt anything like this since the day he buried Evanura. "What kind of tragedy occurred here that it would effect the very environment so profoundly?"
"Vhenan! Please wait for me! I'm coming!" The desperate cry of a woman echoed.
"What was that?!" Rajmael's ears twitched and listened for the final echo to tell him where to go. "That way!"
"Is that blood? My blood? No! I cannot die now." The voice despaired.
They all ran after the voice. It was getting louder, the echoes more resounding. They were getting closer.
"I cannot...cannot die now. Not until I see you again. Ameridan...my love."
Ameridan?! This might be what they were looking for here, the answers they seek. What they instead discovered was a large, but surprisingly stable rift enveloping an ancient cabin of some kind. Wraiths and wisps were pouring out of the Rift like blood from an artery, and they gathered around the Rift and stared at the ruined building inside of it like spectators at a play.
"Solas, any idea what this is?" Rajmael asked.
"This Rift was not caused by the Breach. I'd imagine that it's centuries old, and whatever caused it is the reason why all these Spirits of Sorrow have gathered here, and why the Avvar fear coming here." Solas answered intrigued.
Everyone of them heard what sounded like brokenhearted sobbing within the Rift, and the feelings of sadness and loss were at their most intense here. Whatever it was that was causing this, and whatever answers they were looking for were within this Rift. Rajmael lifted his hand to the tear in the Veil and felt the Anchor connect to it in a stream of Fade energy, attaching his will to the other side.
With a loud crash, the Rift was sealed, revealing what was crying inside. A forlorn spirit weeping over an unfortunate skeleton long depraved of life. Who was this?
"Telanna slept...I slept to find him in the dreaming world...But I...so much blood...I'm...She is gone." The spirit wept sadly. "Telana wanted to reach Ameridan again, one more time, but she couldn't. I couldn't. And she died. I tried to stay, but only pieces came through here. You opened the sky for the rest of me."
"Solas, what manner of spirit is this?" Rajmael wondered.
"It's a benevolent spirit, drawn here by the desperation and sorrow of whoever this woman was." Solas answered. "Whoever this woman was, she was a very powerful mage to summon a spirit like this and for her magic to linger on for so many centuries. It would also seem she knew the Last Inquisitor."
"Ameridan. Yes. Inquisitor. My beloved. Ma vhenan. I...She...came with Ameridan to hunt the dragon." The sad spirit whispered.
"The Dragon?"
"Yes. Huge, powerful. Like nothing Ameridan or Kordillius had ever seen. Powerful enough to rival the Archdemon. It came from the mountains with the Avvar. Towns fell. All dead." The Spirit remembered. "One last favor for Emperor Drakon. Slay the Avvar-Dragon. Save Orlais."
"Wait. Drakon sent Ameridan here? Why wasn't this recorded? Why was it forgotten?" Cassandra needed to know.
"No. Not forgotten. Forbidden. Drakon erased and withheld all information on Ameridan's final quest." The Spirit answered forlornly.
"But why?"
"Orlais must remain strong, be a symbol to others. None could know lest it strike the empire down with fear. Ameridan, Telana, Orinna and Haron would all be heroes when they returned." The Spirit continued. "But he never returned. They all died here. We fought on the shore. Spirits, magic and cold, so much cold. That was how I found her, how she found us. They rested here, then up the river. To the metal spires where the dragon-men from the North came. There was a way to stop the dragon. Haron and Orinna led the Avvar away so Telana could escape back here and wait for Ameridan, alone. Forever waiting. Dreaming...then dead."
"You came when she was hurting. You watched, held her, kept her safe so that she could be reunited with her love until the very end." Cole said compassionately. "And then you stayed so she would not be forgotten. But you need stay, do not need to be sad anymore."
"Yes. Thank you for coming here."
"Wait!" Rajmael bade. "She called Ameridan 'Ma Vhenan'. And her name, Telana, she was an elf? A Dalish elf?"
"Yes. A dreamer of the People, a voice in the High Council." The Spirit answered. "A precious gift from the Creators to bring back their lost arts. She was his heart, and he was hers. Being separated from him was worse than dying. Ameridan...my love."
"We...we will find Ameridan. You do not need to linger here any longer." Rajmael assured sadly.
"Thank you. It was so hard." The spirit looked down at the remains of the Last Inquisitor's elven lover and faded back into the world of spirits.
Rajmael sorrowfully, but respectfully looked down at the preserved remains of Telana. Near her was an ancient leather satchel with a sealed scroll inside that had been perfectly preserved, and it carried the insignia of Kordillius Drakon the First. Rajmael unraveled the scroll and read its contents.
Whosoever reads this message,
Let it be known that the bearer, Inquisitor Ameridan, Commander of the Seekers of Truth, travels to the Frostback Basin on the official request of His Divine Majesty Kordillius Drakon, Emperor of Orlais, upon business vital to the safety and security of this most holy empire, and that he and those who travel with him are to be afforded every service, rendered every assistance, and extended every courtesy in their effort to protect Orlesian lives from threats both magical and mundane.
Maker watch over him,
Kordillus Drakon I.
"So it's true." Cassandra confirmed. "Inquisitor Ameridan was sent here, but on official business for the Empire of Orlais."
"It would seem that Kenric's research is not unfounded." Vivienne acknowledged.
"That spirit spoke of Avvar fighting with cold and spirits, just like the Hakkonites do." Solas pointed out. "I doubt that is coincidence."
"I suppose Kenric will want to know of our discovery." Dorian suggested. "Maker knows that man close to exploding from anticipation."
"So does this mean we can leave the scary island now? Please?" Sera asked agitatedly.
"Yeah. I'm her on this. This place is really starting to bring me down." Iron Bull agreed.
"You ready to get going Inquisitor? Inquisitor?" Varric called.
Everyone looked to see Rajmael kneeling before Telana's body. Resting next to her was a quiver of arrows of elven design that seemed to be made of veridium. They must have meant something to Telana for her to die with them, so he dared not touch them. Rajmael carefully reached over her remains and gently withdrew the amulet that was resting there. It was ancient, made of a some kind of green stone and white wood, with intricate elven knots on the sides and borders. On the face was the mosaic desiegn of an elven woman looking over a white halla.
Rajmael couldn't look away from the trinket, his face was painted with sorrow. "Amulets like these were made specifically for members of the High Council of the Dales, to represent the Creators. My Keeper carries one passed down from the founder of our clan. None have been made since the destruction of our homeland. Telana was one of the voices of my people." Rajmael mournfully returned the ancient artifact to its rightful owner. He looked down at her with reverent respect in his eyes. "Telana, somniar'a elvhen. Ir abelas. It is a crime for any elf to forget our kin, and you have been unjustly swept aside by history. You lived in a time when our people were truly free, when we were masters of our own destiny. You died before reaching your vhenan, but at least you did not witness our destruction. When I find Ameridan's body, I swear to Ghilanain, that I will return you to him." Rajmael stood and bowed his head as he recited the prayer taught to him by Keeper Deshana. "Hahren melana sahlin. Emma ir abelas. Souver'inan isala hamin. Vhenan him dor'felas. In uthenera na revas. Vir sulahn'nehn. Vir dirthera. Vir samahl la numin. Vir lath sa'vunin"
Back at the Inquisition Forward Camp...
Scout Harding's eyes lit up like candles when she saw the Inquisitor and his company make it back to camp. "Inquisitor! You're back!"
"Anything to report, Scout Harding?" Rajmael asked.
"You must've really made a good impression with those Avvar at Stone-Bear Hold. They came by earlier with some gifts of cured meats, and some barrels of fish and ale. Not fish and ale together, that'd be gross. One of them men tried a sample, he barely touched his cup and it dropped him like a twenty-pound hammer. We had to get a healer over to make sure he wasn't dead."
"Ooh. Really? I'll to try some of that." Iron Bull chuckled.
"I may might give it try myself." Blackwall agreed.
"Be careful boys. Avvarian beer isn't for the faint of heart." Varric warned.
Professor Kenric eagerly trotted over to the Inquisitor, waving his hand. "Your Worship, you've returned! Have you any news? Did you go to the island?"
"Yes. And we found some answers." Rajmael answered dismally. "A spirit on the Island held the memories of Ameridan's lover, an elf named Telana. It told us that Ameridan was sent here on orders of Emperor Drakon himself...an where he went next."
"Really? Are you certain?" Kenric asked excitedly. "Oh! Oh, this changes everything everyone thought they knew about Ameridan! This discredits so many so-called experts on early Chantry history!"
Rajmael quirked an eyebrow disinterestedly. "This has got you excited."
"Oh, I'm ecstatic! We're finally on the right track towards the truth! There were orders from Drakon himself? This changes everything." The Professor was practically jumping for joy. "It proves that Ameridan wasn't an embarrassment who went hunting after a dragon after being dismissed from court, but a patriot who was serving his emperor. Andraste's sacred dimples, I may have received tenure just from this alone."
"And the fact that I got this information from a wayward spirit doesn't bother you?"
"Oh, well, it's not the ideal means of acquiring information I'll admit, but the truth is more important than the manner in which it is revealed." The Professor answered. "And the fact that it's a spirit means that there was eyewitness testimony, which does add some legitimacy to the story."
"The spirit said to follow the river upstream to a ruin of metal and spikes. That was where Ameridan headed when he came here."
"Metal spikes? Ah, yes! Your scouts mentioned a Tevinter ruin northward up the river." The Professor informed. "That must be where the Spirit was talking about. I'll let you clear the way while I continue shinning these buckles..." Kenric stood there for a moment realizing how sounded. "That sounded so much better in head."
Later at the ruins upriver...
Thanks to their forces securing the river, Rajmael and his company were easily able to navigate upriver to where the ruins were. From the north end of the river, they found the remains of an underground waterway, and Dorian confirmed that the architecture was Tevinter. It was taking diverting water from the river up towards the ruin. From the waterway they found a stairwell that led up to the ruin. And while the river may have been cleared of the Hakkonites, this ruin had a well fortified company of the savages guarding it.
"Well, would you look at that. A lovely little group of barbarians armed to the teeth and guarding the front the gate." Dorian said glibly.
"There's a lot of them. Wonder what could be in there that needs this many guards." Iron Bull pointed.
"So how do you think we should attack the situation?" Blackwall asked.
"Maybe we could just waltz over there, knock on the front door, and politely ask them to come out?" Varric joked.
"Good idea." Rajmael snorted as he drew his sword and started walking over there.
"Wait. I was just kidding!" Varric yelled.
"I wasn't." Rajmael growled walking off.
"Should, uh, should we stop him?" Blackwall asked nervously.
"I don't think that would be possible, or wise, with him in this mood right now." Solas informed cautiously.
"He gets his sword out and it doesn't go down until he's done going and going and going, until he's done swinging it around." Sera chuckled mischievously. "Right, Cassandra?"
"...Yes." Cassandra blushed.
The Inquisitor marched towards the ancient and well fortified front gate. The Avvar guarding the door and standing the walls were surprised by the audacity of the lone elf walking straight over to them, outnumbered and armed only with a wooden sword. They didn't know whether to impressed or insulted.
The Inquisitor marched towards the ancient and well fortified front gate. The Avvar guarding the door and standing the walls were surprised by the audacity of the lone elf walking straight over to them, outnumbered and armed only with a wooden sword. They didn't know whether to impressed or insulted.
"Ha-ha-ha! What's this?!" A powerfully built Hakkonite wielding a giant axe mocked. "A lost little elf come to challenge the Jaws of Hakkon? You're brave or suicidal. Ah-ha-ha!"
A bolt of lightning flew from The Inquisitor's sword and struck the warrior right in his laughing mouth, making his head explode into a geyser of blood. The archers on the wall fired a volley of their ice-enchanted arrows at the Inquisitor. Rajmael didn't even need to activate his Shimmering Shield and deflected the enchanted projectiles with his sword. The arrows found themselves lodged into the very archers who fired them, the ice magic froze the archers into blocks of ice that shattered the instant they hit the ground.
With their archers and bruiser dead, the remaining Hakkonites guarding the door charged the Dalish mage with their ice-swords and axes. Rajmael held his ground, his sword burning with veilfire, and waited for the right moment. The Arcane Warrior dashed, his magic increasing his speed to blinding levels, the Shimmering Shield making him more of an apparition than physical, as he darted past each of them with one stroke of his sword. Rajmael flicked the blood off his sword after he got past them. All four warriors fell to the ground dead as a wave of blood erupted from the wounds the Enasalin inflicted.
Rajmael approached the large metal door, definitely Tevinter in origin, and very sturdy. His elven ears could hear the Hakkonites on the other side getting ready for a fight. He shouldn't disappoint them. Against a door like this, you'd normally need a battering ram. Fortunately, Rajmael had something even better. "Bull!"
"I got it." The muscle-bound mercenary yelled, charging down the metal door, screaming like a maniac. The Bull smashed the hammerhead side of his axe right up against the blockade, knocking it right its hinges and flying through the doorway. The broken door landed and two Hakkonites on the other side and crushed them beneath its weight. "Knock, knock, assholes!"
The Inquisitor and The Bull charged in and engaged the enemy while the rest of their companions ran to get in on the action. The Hakkonites were not expecting such a successful assault and were caught off guard. Their arrogance was their undoing. Iron Bull laughed as he swung his axe left and right and cut each of the painted barbarians down. Even with their enchanted weapons, these Hakkonites were little more than thugs: ill-disciplined with more muscles than brains. Which made them easy targets against the training and discipline of Cassandra and Blackwall. And while the Inquisitor engaged the enemy with his warriors, the company's mages and rogues were able to whittle the Hakkonites down with their magic, arrows and knives from the flanks and at a distance. Within a matter of minutes, all the Hakkonites that were guarding this place were nothing more than a pile of dead bodies.
With the Hakkonites dead and the ruin secured, Rajmael lit a signal flare to let Scout Harding and Professor Kenirc know it was safe to come. With both the river and the ruin cleared of Hakkonites, both the Scholar and the Scout made it here rather quickly.
Being a scholar of ancient pre-Chantry history, Kenric couldn't help but marvel at these ruins. "Oh, how marvelous! This is obviously late period Tevinter architecture. These dragon statues seem to be venerate Razikale, The Old God of Mystery."
"Ah. That would explain the dismal atmosphere and that gloomy sense of dread this ruin gives off." Dorian stated. "Though that could be said about most Tevinter architecture."
"Even here, on the ass end of nowhere, you can see Tevinter arrogance. Is there anywhere the Vints went that they didn't shit on everything?" Iron Bull grumbled.
"Tiny, I'll bet you a thousand royals that if we go to the bottom of the ocean, or even the moon, we'd probably find some weird Tevinter ruins." Varric commented.
"Where's my pen and parchment? I'm sure if I inspected the design and layout of this ruin I'd be able to determine what its original purpose was." Kenric said absently.
"Um, Professor? You're getting sidetracked again." Harding reminded.
"Oh, right. Forgive me." The Starkhaven Scholar turned his attention to the Inquisitor. "Your Worship, well done. Inspecting these ruins would have been even harder with those Hakkonites here."
"Not to mention down right impossible, since I would be running the other way otherwise." Harding added. "I got him for you, Inquisitor. The rest is up to you."
"Let's see why that spirit sent us here. Why Ameridan came here." Rajmael insisted.
The Inquisitor and the others followed the wide-eyed University Professor from the outer courtyard into the once occupied ruin. The temple was built into the mountainside with in an inner and outer courtyard guarding it in the same manner as a fortress. The inner courtyard was made of sturdy white stone, still holding strong after thousands of years. Judging from the early design of the metal spires erected from the inner and outer walls, this place was abandoned long before the Imperium's decline.
Gazing down on the courtyard was a menacing metallic depiction of a dark dragon that cast a great and foreboding shadow on the ground. It's blood-ruby eyes seemed to look down on them with a life of their own. This was Razikale, the Tevinter Old God of Mystery. In the shadow of Her great metallic wings was an slab of jet black stone, some kind of altar, where the Tevinters who came to this land would offer prayers and sacrifice to their draconic god. The altar was set between two metal spires that were as black as onyx.
Looking at the archaic monument, Rajmael couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over him. It was as if this ancient Shemlen god could actually see him. Even if he defeated Corypheus, how much longer would it be until the Old God of Mystery awoke in the bowels of the earth as an Archdemon and brought another Blight upon the world?
They reached the top of the stair way leading into the mountainside, into the shrine, and found the doorway blocked by some kind of magical barrier. Bright as snow in the light of day, and pulsing with life. It was a powerful spell indeed, Rajmael could feel the power emanating from the barrier. It has stood here for centuries. How strange. The energy that came from the barrier was not of Avvar shamanism or Tevinter sorcery. It was elven magic, like veilfire.
"Bull, whatever you're thinking, rethink it." Dorian warned. But it was too late. Without even thinking, Iron Bull swung his axe right at the barrier with all his might like it would shatter to pieces. Instead his axe just bounced right off the barrier and the shaft smacked Bull right in the head, leaving a print behind right down his face.
"Here, let me have a go!" Sera insisted. Before anyone had a chance to stop here, she threw one of her Fire Flasks at the barrier, not realizing the mistake she made. The flask bounced off the magical obstruction like it was made of rubber and flew back at Sera. "Oh shit!" Sera ducked her head out of the way and the flask smashed on the wall behind her, leaving a small bonfire where it landed.
"Honestly, you moronic thief!" Vivienne cursed agitatedly. "Is there not a brain in that gaping chasm between those pointed ears of yours?!"
"Oh, shut up, Madame Stuffy-Shit!" Sera snapped back. "I don't see you doing anything to get us through that stupid magic door!"
"Perhaps it's because I'd rather think about how to approach the problem rather than succumbing to whatever random impulse that happens to strike at the most inopportune times." Vivienne scoffed.
"Right. Is that what you did when the Inquisitor bitch smacked you for trying to play?" Sera sneered, earning a deathly glare from the Imperial Enchanter.
"Will the two of you do us all a favor and shut up?" Rajmael demanded. "This place is unbearable enough as it is without you two acting like three-year olds."
"We need to find a way past this barrier." Kenric urged. He observed the arch above the doorway and noticed the faintest glyph resting there. "Here! This glyph, elven I think. Must be some kind of clue. I think it's the word..."
"Elgara'il. Light." Rajmael finished. Without speaking what he had realized, he drew his sword and ignited the veilfire on the sylvanwood blade. In one quick move he slashed the barrier in half and dispersed it into a thousand shards of magical light that fluttered away like butterflies.
"Oh, well done. Well done, indeed." Kenric lauded as he entered and took in the dark but perfectly preserved inner shrine.
"Weird. This place doesn't look or feel like the rest of the temple." Scout Harding pointed out. "It's much more...serene."
"I can see why: Look at this!" Kenric pointed to the back of the chamber and there stood something that none of them would ever have suspected. A statue of Andraste kneeling in humble grace holding a pair of stone totems in the form of proud halla facing each other in Her outstretched hands. "A pair of shrines. This one is clearly Andrastian, albeit from an early age, likely Pre-Divine. But this one?" Kenric pointed to the hall statues. "This is obviously elven. One of their gods. Which one was it?" Kenric scratched his head and furrowed his brow while his mind searched for answers. "Uh, what was it? Every Mother Finds Druffalo Among Sleeping Juniper Groves...G-something. The one with the deer."
"I'm sorry, what was that?" Rajmael interrupted curiously.
"Oh, that's just a memory aid I use to remember the names of the elven gods." Kenric answered. "I mostly studied pre-Chantry history. I didn't really study the elves."
"Your aid is incomplete." Rajmael pointed out.
"What? But there's only...well, I suppose I forgot Fen'heral." Kenric admitted.
"Most people do." Solas commented rather indignantly.
"But this isn't him." Kenric continued. "It's one of the lady gods. I just can't put my finger on it."
"It's Ghilain'nan. The Mother of all halla." Rajmael answered. "My people pray to her for guidance when we go on difficult journeys, or when we're separated from our clan, and to watch over our halla. She was Telana's patron god."
"Oh, brilliant! Thank you. That would have bothered me all day." Kenric applauded.
"He stood here, read, scared and alone. He didn't want to go, but he knew he had to finish the mission." Cole trailed off.
"Two shrines for two lovers. Ameridan and Telana." Harding pieced together. "Inquisitor, you said Telana was an elf. Maybe Ameridan made this shrine in honor of her."
"Oh, yes that would make sense." Professor Kenric agreed. "The Chantry expunged all references to elves before the Exalted March on the Dales. They must have done the same thing to Telana. Art, history, literature. The Chantry even erased the Canticles of Thane Shartan and declared it heresy to even mention it. The only piece of art that depicts Shartan is a mosaic in the University of Orlais, but the Divine demanded that his ears be docked and forbade his name from being mentioned within the Chantry."
"Um, Professor? You're doing that thing again, where you're talking without thinking. Maybe you want to stop?" Harding urged.
"What? Oh, I, er...Sorry." Kenric apologized after remembering who he was talking to, and realizing that he was making him mad.
Dorian, Iron Bull, Blackwall and Varric all wisely stepped several paces away from the Inquisitor, realizing how pissed he was getting. Rajmael's jaw clenched so hard he could have cracked a coconut, and he gripped his sword handle so hard his knuckles were white as snow. And that thing in the back of his mind was screaming at him. "And you people wonder why Dalish elves are so hostile. It's because we can't stand the stink of your hypocrisy! To use faith and religion to rewrite history because it's inconvenient and further a hidden agenda is sickening!"
"Agreed." Cassandra spoke. "The Chant of Light should spread the truth, not suppress. I promise that when all is said and done, there will be reformations within the Chantry."
"Well, the important thing is that this shrine tells us the next step." Kenric finally interjected, trying to get back on subject, and maybe not have the Inquisitor mad at him. "This is not the burial site, that much is obvious."
Harding pointed to a small mound of blue flowers growing at the base of the shrine. "Those flowers are not native to this region."
"No they're not." Rajmael agreed. "These are Eternal Blues, elven roses. They're the same kind of roses I offer to my gods when I pray to them."
"Do you think they were left here as an offering to this shrine?" Harding suggested.
"Yes, that would make sense." Kenric agreed. "A night of prayer before going to battle with the dragon. But then where, where...We're missing something. What are we missing? Where did Ameridan go after he stopped here?"
"Maybe there's a clue or something laying around here?" Harding suggested. "Maybe we should try looking around."
Everyone started looking around the shrine, but with the dim light it was hard to find anything.
"Ooh. Inquisitor, take a look at this." Dorian called. He was standing in front of a strange metal construct with polygonal figures in front of it. "You see relics like this in many ancient Tevinter sites back home. These constructs were used a power sources to keep whole palaces lit and warm for years. Sadly, the only problem was turning them back on, which I don't know how to do."
Something about this ancient artifact caught Rajmael's eye. Over the metallic surface, he could see the faintest glimmer of colored light, but it was being blocked. Like window shades blacking out sunlight. How could Dorian not see this? Unless...Rajmael drew his sword, ignited the veilfire on the blade and waved it over the surface of the construct. The enchanted blade swept across the surface, revealing a veilfire rune hidden from the normal sight of mortals. The whole construct blazed with energy, and ignited both the spires by the altar with life.
"Oh, bravo, Inquisitor. Well done." Kenric praised.
Rajmael stared intently at the veilfire rune. Somehow he was able to see written words more than just the shape of the image. Like the rune was magically sending a message to his mind. "Professor, listen to this. Shartan 10:7. And Transfigurations 10:1?"
"Shartan is one of the Dissonant verses. Oh, how did it go? 'And before them, empty, outstretched lay the lands that led to the Gates of Minrathous'." Kenric quoted. "And Transfigurations is 'The Light shall lead Her safely through the paths of this world'." Kenric scratched his neck frustratingly. "Why these verses? Why would Ameridan take the time to carve this before going into battle?"
"How could he have carved these before going into battle?" Rajmael asked more to the point. "This style of magic is elven. I was only able to spot that rune because I'm an elf. How did Ameridan know how to cast such subtle spells?"
"I'm curious as to how elven magic was able to activate Tevinter styled engineering." Dorian stated.
"Because it's actually all elven in origin." Solas answered stoically. "But please, do go on about the wonders of Tevinter magic."
An awkward look of embarrassment crept over Dorian's face. "Oh, well, no need. Er...let's move on. What were we talking about again?"
"Perhaps Telanna carved these out? Being an elven mage, it would have been a simple task." Cassandra suggested.
"Not likely, Seeker." Varric dejected. "Remember? Telanna was separated from the others at that island."
"Perhaps we'll find all the answers we seek at the end of this hunt." Kenric said hopefully.
"Wait. The Gates of Minrathous? My scouts reported another, bigger, Tevinter ruin within the Basin, guarded by a wall of ice." Scout Harding informed. "It's where the Jaws of Hakkon have made their home."
"I think I understand." Kenric spoke. "Ameridan must have had his elven mage seal the dragon at a site of great power!"
"I had my scouts take a closer look at that fortress, and there's no easy way of getting in." Harding informed. "Way too many Avvar, and that wall of ice is definitely magic."
"There must be some way past that wall that Ameridan must have used." Kenric insisted.
"Hold a moment." Dorian bade. "The Light shall guide her through the paths of this world? A wall of ice." Dorian's signature smile swept across his face and his eyes lit up brilliantly. "Sweet Andraste, I think I've got it!" The Tevinter mage dashed outside to the altar and pulled on several nearby levers making a giant tuning forklike contraption came out from beneath the altar and rested between the spires. The magic vibrating from the spires shot out in beams of energy and shot through the fork in a stream of pure magic. The beam shot forward over the river and through a giant metal marker in the form of an octagonal circle.
"Wonderful!" Kenric praised.
"I know I am." Dorian chuckled. "My father once showed me ancient temples with devices such as this. They used is to relay magical energy across great distances. This design is very similar."
"When the Imperium abandoned the fortress, they must have created the wall of ice...to...lock something behind?" Kenric continued.
"And every lock has a key." Harding agreed.
"Like those trail markers." Kenric pointed out. "Ameridan must have known how to use them. If they can melt the ice, then that must be where Ameridan sealed the dragon."
"So if we follow those markers and send the beam forward, it will...melt that ice-wall?" Blackwall asked.
"How can light destroy a wall of ice?" Cassandra questioned.
"Yeah. Wouldn't a sledgehammer be just as good?" Iron Bull agreed.
"Only magic can undo magic." Solas answered calmly. "And besides, I doubt the Hakkonites will simply let you smash their fortress with a sledgehammer."
"Well, let's follow them and see what we can find out." Rajmael stated.
"I'll escort Professor Kenric back to the forward camp." Harding informed. "If this magical ray of light does destroy that Hakkonite wall of ice, then I doubt they're going to be very happy. And we don't want be there when that happens."
While Scout Harding and Professor Kenric wen back to the Inquisition's base camp, Rajmael and the other pressed forward. As soon as they made it to one marker and activated it, the trail of light blasted forth and led them to the next one. Aside from the few giant spiders and gurguts that got in their way, they were able to quickly find and activate each of the trail markers and lead the beam of light towards the other side of the Basin. And then they reached the final marker, which was on a hill overlooking the Tevinter Ruin that was crawling with the Jaws of Hakkon.
The Hakkonites had not yet detected their presence. About twenty of them were standing guard in front the massive wall of ice as though they were protecting it from something. And they were all completely unaware of the Inquisitor was doing right now. Rajmael sensed an opportunity right here and a sinister grin crept across his face.
Rajmael whispered orders to his companions and made sure they would follow them, and then he casually made his way to the front of the occupied Tevinter fortress like he was taking an afternoon stroll.
"Look! It's the Inquisitor!" One of the Hakkonite sentries snarled. "Kill him!"
"WAIT!" Rajmael yelled. Amazingly, the Hakkonites stopped in their tracks and waited for a moment. Despite the fact their weapons were still clenched in their fists, Rajmael casually reached into his coat, pulled out his sylvanwood piped and started puffing it. "Now, I will accept your immediate surrender, and I promise you won't be harmed. But if you don't, then you'll all die right now."
"Are you serious?!" One of the Hakkonites asked disbelievingly.
"You'll die screaming, just so you know." Rajmael said between puffs of his pipe.
The Avvar extremists all looked at each other with confused looks. Did he really think that this would work? Was the Inquisitor crazy or stupid? What was this elf smoking in that pipe of his?
"Kill him for Hakkon's glory!" All the Hakkonites broke ranks to attack the crazy elf. The Inquisitor just stood there continuing to smoke his pipe, even with about a dozen pissed off Hakkonites charging him down with battle axes, swords and ice-magic.
Rajmael stared down his Avvarian assailants with a cocky grin on his face and slowly exhaled smoke from his nostrils. "That's far enough."
Up from the hill by the Tevinter trail marker, Cassandra pulled the nearby lever and the beam of magical energy burst from the marker and shot past the Hakkonites and hitting the ice-barrier protecting their fortress. The ice-wall made a sound like thunder rumbling as shook as it crashed like a wave of white down on the Hakkonites. Now instead of running to kill the Inquisitor, the Hakkonites were running for the lives to get away from their shattered ice-wall from crushing them. They didn't get very far, and that wall quickly became their grave.
They managed to bring down the wall and kill all the Hakkonites guarding it, and Rajmael didn't even have to lift a finger. But Rajmael was not very happy at this moment. They managed to bring the ice-wall, only to reveal the well fortified, actual wall and the Tevinter style siege gate, which were famous for being unassailable. The value of this victory was downgraded very quickly.
"Ha! What're you going to do now, little elf!?" One of the Hakkonites on the battlements mocked. "You're gods are weak! And you will see the full might of the Jaws of Hakkon when we destroy the Lowlands! Ha-ha-h...ghack!" The Hakkonite's laughter was cut short when a bolt of lightning flew off Rajmael's sword and struck him right in his open mouth, leaving behind a geyser of blood and torn flesh with wet meaty chunks flying where his head used to be.
"I'm waiting to be impressed." Rajmael said through his teeth with his pipe in his mouth and his sword in hand. He grudgingly walked back over to his companions, maybe they had an idea how to get through that door.
"We cannot get through that door." Dorian stated as fact. "Not without some ballistae hurdling boulders and barrels of flaming oil. Even then it might not be enough."
"Dorian's right." Iron Bull agreed. "That gate and those walls are built just like the ones in Minrathous. There's no way we're getting through that with what we've got now."
"And I'll bet you those Hakkonites are just waiting for us to try something." Blackwall added. "Probably got something nasty to drop on us if we try hammering through that door."
"I don't want things falling on me." Cole spoke. "My hat will get ruined."
"It would seem we've hit another hurdle in this endeavor." Vivienne commented dourly.
"Any suggestions?" Varric asked.
Rajmael thought for a moment and realized what they needed to do. It was the only option left to them right now. "Let's head back to Stone-Bear Hold. We'll ask Than Sun-Hair if she can aid us against the Hakkonites."
"Are you sure she'd be willing to bring her people into our fight?" Cassandra questioned.
"Her people and the Hakkonites didn't seem to be on friendly terms." Rajmael reminded. "And besides, I'm sure there's a certain blonde auger with wandering eyes that would love to have an opportunity to kick these Hakkonites' asses out of their throats."
"Ooh. And I'd love a chance to see her and those wandering eyes with the tits again." Sera giggled incessantly.
"Then we should make haste." Solas suggested. "I doubt these Jaws of Hakkon are going to wait much longer to make their move.
All of them marched away from the Jaws of Hakkon's hold before any more guards could come out and harry them. Their goal was so close and yet so difficult to reach. Ameridan's final resting place was just within their grasp, but these Hakkonites weren't making it easy. On the upside, Rajmael relished in the thought of having the chance to humiliate and defeat that arrogant son of a troll Gurn Harofsen. And if all went well, he could see what this Auger Siobahn was capable of. If she considered Aedan Cousland to be her brother, then what kind of devastation was she capable of unleashing? Rajmael had to find out.
Language Codex:
Mo Dearthaire: Avvar, translates as "My brother".
Elgara'il: Elven, roughly translates as "Light".
Siobahn an Igraine O'Bear-Hold: Avvar name-title, translates as "Siobahn daughter of Igraine of Bear-Hold".