Outlander

by GreaterGoodIreland

A United Nations Peacekeeper without knowledge of the games is transported to Thedas. Unsure if he will ever be able to return, he is sucked into the conflicts of Thedas as he tries to survive with his new companions and build a new world.

20. Chapter 20: Bonfires

Chapter Twenty: Bonfires

The minstrel boy to the war is gone,
In the ranks of death you'll find him,
His father's sword he has girded on,
And his wild harp slung behind him,
"Land of Song!" said the warrior bard,
"Though all the world betrays thee,
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee!"

A drummer and flutist played as the little elf girl with long black hair sang out the words to the Minstrel Boy, her head uncovered and ears poking out of the strands.

I had just finished a short speech about their bravery, one that didn't measure up to my purpose as much as the song did. Men and women stood by listening, their fellows with torches in hand to light the funeral pyres of the seven dead soldiers. Not one of them was immune from the effects. There were tears and the air felt heavy. Even I felt a deep sorrow build up in my throat, clutching at it, as that little girl sang the words until her voice became strained. Then fire began to consume the bodies.

The singing girl was not the only elf with their head uncovered. In fact, every single one had put down their hood. I noticed this for one particular reason. Until the funeral, very very few would have been seen outside without their heads covered. Or more accurately, their ears. Soprano was one of the few exceptions, but she wasn't someone to be trifled with in the first place and everyone knew it. Baby steps towards unity, I hoped at the time. Which they were, but of course, not everyone wants progress. Thankfully, those sorts of problems in the future, and for the moment, my people were one.

Word got around very quickly that I had casually walked through an attack that should have rendered me into fried longpig, extra crispy. It wasn't admiration or hope alone that was holding the whole project together, and those things were certainly there. Fear and doubt were there too. Even as we watched the bodies burn, there were glances towards me, mostly from those who hadn't followed me to fight White Mask's thugs. I wasn't the only one to notice.

"They're afraid of you," said Sister Nightingale, watching the crowd intently as the smell of smoke and burning flesh wafted on the air. I growled lowly at the statement. Thank you, Captain Obvious, for that wonderful observation.

"They don't know about the big thing, if that's what you're wondering," I said, making it perfectly clear that she wasn't to continue speaking on it, "They have heard about what I did before we met is all."

"You say that as if it was nothing," Julie deadpanned from in front of us.

"Can't take credit for something that isn't of my own doing," I replied, not cheered by her sarcasm. After all, I didn't want to think too hard about the consequences of my existence on this world. I did nothing to ask for my transportation to Thedas, and certainly did nothing to warrant my... power.

"I'm glad you are immune to the saarebas' powers," Tam boomed from behind, "They're dangerous. Every one of them." Which was more true than I would have liked to believe, but I could not know that. The only mages I had encountered were Armen, who had no shortage of scheming but a lack of malice about him, and White Mask's personal human-cannon, who essentially was a puppet. Abominations and other assorted things would have to be left for another day. Still, it was one of Tam's weird ways of saying she was glad I was safe from it all, and saying she was glad to have me around. I appreciated it.

"Have I done something to offend you?" said Armen, approaching without his customary smile, "I forgive you your Qunari ways."

Tam made a face like she had just eaten something sour, but swallowed the response out of respect to the dead. Armen kept staring until Ciara punched him on the shoulder, and indicated to follow her lead in not fighting in front of funerary pyres. I'm sure he had a witty comeback, but I guess he could read the mood after all, as he held his tongue afterwards. Thankfully.

For a little while, we were silent. The only thing that could be heard was crackling wood and the waves of heat moving the air past us. It was strangely calming, and I began to understand why open-air cremation had such a hold on Thedosian culture. It wasn't just that Andraste had been burned, but it was the experience itself. The body consumed and the soul sent to heaven on flame. My mind wandered into itself so much that I almost didn't hear the next question asked of me.

"When will you march?" the Sister asked, "How many will you bring?"

I blinked away my torpor, having not expected the question.

"Tomorrow morning after dawn," I replied, "With everyone who can walk on two legs." Except for a single squad to protect the place while I was gone. As well as Julie. The stubborn idiot had refused to come along, said that the Baron would be expecting his money and delaying was a bad idea. Breaking the news that we wouldn't be refunding his friends was also best left to her, but it made a bad taste in my mouth. I glanced over at her for a moment. Madamoiselle Marteau was engrossed with the flames.

"Excellent. I shall retire for the night," the Sister replied, "I will be joining you." Without waiting for a reply, the woman stalked off into the darkness behind until her form disappeared from the light of the fires. Damned typical of a spymaster, I thought. Clearly a noble too; I hadn't said whether or not I agreed with her tagging along. She didn't care. Neither did I, truth be told, she already knew everything.

"She's not a cheery one, is she?" frowned Leha, "Even at a funeral, she brought down the mood."

"She has many burdens," Tam said, not moving her gaze from the nearest pyre, "That much is obvious." Indeed, she did have, such as they were. Some of which I would share in the future, and I was far more able to bear them than she was in some cases. I was already broken, you see.

"I guess I'll go sleep too," said Leha, "I'm not comfortable with this sort of thing, and I'll need the sleep." That got our attention, as you'd imagine.

"You're coming with us?" asked Ciara, "Are you mad?"

"Why on Earth would you?" I added. Leha looked at me strangely, and I realised I had made a mistake with that phrase.

"I've been hearing things all day, Marquis," the dwarf said, "Things I wish to see with my own eyes. The big thing, as you put it." I was at a loss for words. I had entirely forgot she had been standing there as I talked to the Sister. The dwarf could sense my unease. She had a little smile on her face when she walked away towards the château.

"Are you going to tell her?" asked Ciara.

"Hell no," I replied, "I haven't even given her a key to our library, no way I let her in on the secret."

I was gravely underestimating Leha, of course, but for the moment, I had bigger problems. A prison break, no less. Sister Nightingale had given all the details of the prison. Its location, layout, estimated garrison and who else apart from the mages we might find in it. She knew a lot.

I mulled over how I intended to defeat the defences for a moment, as the singing turned to the more traditional religious chants. The same I had heard said over Duval's men. It gave me an idea.

---

Early the next morning, armed assembly was called as I had ordered the previous evening and the entirety of the town showed up, it seemed. Not just people who lived around L'Ambassade, but a good number from Hearth itself. Relatives and friends of my soldiers, and their curious friends. I would later learn that my little lightning walk trick was the subject of tavern talk all around town, but for the moment I thought that it was just well-wishers, given that we were marching out again a day after returning with casualties.

Mike and McNulty had managed to impose some sort of order on the crowds, moving them off the parade grounds and to the edges, so that the troops could present themselves properly. Given how many hours we sank into getting the latter to stand in a straight line and understand why they needed to, I thoroughly approved of this. My little militia was getting close to being worthy of the title 'military' in my own eyes, a huge compliment given that almost nobody in Thedas deserved that title at the time.

I dressed in fresh fatigues, put on my beret, armour and weapons, and saw that the wagons were correctly packed, before mounting Bellona and riding around the château to the square. Julie and Tam were waiting for me in the middle of the space in front of the ranks atop Revas and Fritz. I also spied Armen, Leha and Ciara on a cart near the entrance, looking on. I rode up to the former group, and it was all smiles. Not exactly the reaction I was used to on going to war, but a pleasant one nonetheless.

I looked around for Sister Nightingale but couldn't find her anywhere. Troubled by this, I called over McNulty and Soprano, to ask them if they knew where she was. I had brought them in to give them the plan and explain the reason behind it before the funeral, so they had met her before and knew well enough to keep an eye on her.

"She rode out earlier, Marquis," Soprano replied flatly, "Told us that she would meet up on the road."

"Unfortunate too," added McNulty, clearly wanting the Sister in eyeshot for another reason entirely to security. Satisfied that I'd see her again and amused by the man's risky lechery, I rode out a little further in front of my men and women.

Before we set out, I had to explain what we were going to do. I had to know they were with me.

"Soldiers, I know that some of you have just returned to see your families and bury our dead, but we have another task to complete before we can rest. You all know of the terrible events at Kirkwall, and you will have heard of the unrest this has caused between the mages and the Templar Order. Most of you will also know that the Circle at Halamshiral rebelled some months ago, and that Templars have been hunting those that escaped. I am here to tell you that the mages rebelled only as a result of the fear that they were about to be killed without proper Chantry authority."

My soldiers' eyes moved, but their bodies remained still. They were considering the words. The captains had already informed them of the objective, but they had been told to wait for me to explain the why behind it. I continued, unsure of whether or not I could convince them.

"Many of these mages have been recaptured by the Templars. They are still under the threat of death at an instant. These are not abominations, apostates or blood mages, but followers of Andraste like any of you, yet the Templars will kill them. If they are killed, every loyal Circle in Thedas will rise and war will be upon the entire world. Unless we act."

Murmurs of disapproval in the crowds to the sides echoed around in the cold air, biting me as much as the temperature. The soldiers stayed silent, their faces increasingly grave. That was far from encouraging. Time to play the bluff.

"I have been contacted by the agents of Divine Justinia, asking that I intervene to protect these innocents in this time of crisis. I am a peacekeeper, a soldier tasked with standing between war and the innocent. I must follow my oath. I cannot however force any of you to do the same. This must be your choice. All those that wish to follow me, to become peacekeepers, step forward five paces."

No one moved.

My heart dropped, as soldiers began looking at each other in bewilderment. In retrospect, it was the fact I was giving them a choice at all as their supposed liege lord contributed to their uncertainty, along with the idea of fighting Templars in the first place. I was ignorant of this, and thought the worst. I had no choice but to try nearly alone, which would be much more risky. There were over two hundred Templars in the prison according to the Sister's reports.

I hadn't counted on Mike, however. The tiny elf stepped forwards in her full battle-dress and raised her voice.

"Bataillon en avant, cinq pas!" she roared.

Her voice boomed around the grounds, silencing everyone who was whispering or talking among themselves in an instant. The next instant, every single one of the one hundred and seventy or so soldiers stepped forward five paces as ordered. I gave them the choice, but it was clear who made the decision. They were beginning to think like a unit, a single entity to live or die together. In warfare on my world, you either come together like that or you die. In this world, it gives the ultimate edge in battle. Only the Qunari can command that sort of cohesion, and they lose it in battle rage more often than not.

The weight on my insides lifted as the faces in front of me were resolute. I turned to Mike in the saddle. The sergeant grimaced with satisfaction as she looked over the soldiers. Exasperated but pleased, I had Bellona trot over beside her. She stood to attention immediately.

"At ease, Sergeant," I said, "And thank you."

"You're welcome, Marquis," Mike replied in clipped tones, "Orders?"

"Take the lead, sergeant," I replied, "Have them halt on the road, the Sister should be waiting for you there."

Mike saluted, and made her way to her own horse, newly liberated from a dead chevalier. I watched her ride down the line to both McNulty and Soprano, relaying my orders before moving on to the front of the columns. The captains shouted their own orders to turn left and march. The ranks began filing out of the parade ground and through the estate's gates, drum beats and flutes carrying them along as they did so. I was reminded of the funeral, and prayed my plan to break the prison would work. The smell of ashes was still around too, and it would be again soon. Not in sorrow, thank the Maker.

"My Lord Hunt," came a call from behind me. I wheeled Bellona in the saddle, getting a neigh for my trouble before she complied with a shake of her head. Julie trotted over too, given who had called.

Élodie and Claire approached, their masks removed. They were both wearing workclothes, though these were clean and free of the soot and smoke stains that so often adorned their sister's own. The bags under their eyes testified that they were tired, not to mention their fatigued gait. They were slightly haunched, and as they came closer, I could hear that they were breathing heavily. They were carrying an item each. Élodie had a large pouch with something rolled up in it, carrying it across herself above her now visible baby-bump. Claire carried a spear that had to be twelve or thirteen feet high, but was thin enough to be carried with one hand.

The sight confused me. Bemused me, even. I remember thinking that they couldn't possibly want to join us to fight, did they? They were civilians, through and through.

"My ladies?" I said speculatively, falling into my false identity, hoping one of them would clarify their purpose. Julie rode around to the side, and stole my attention. Meanwhile, her sisters began to unravel the cloth bag.

"I saw you looking at the chevaliers' banners," Julie said, "So I had this made for us."

The two sisters stepped apart, and revealed a beautiful sight indeed. It was a silken flag, of the identical light-blue colour as my beret. In the middle were two olive-branches enveloping a representation of the Earth as a globe, all stitched and detailed in a blinding white. The edges of the flag were in a bright yellow trim, and there were cords of the same colour for securing the flag to the spear that Claire carried.

I was stunned. The last time I had seen such a flag, I had been on Earth. It was flawless too, so much so that it could have been flown on the world of my birth without anyone batting an eyelid as to its actual origins. The banner of the United Nations now flew on two worlds.

"I copied the design from the books," Julie continued, "I thought that if we must go to war, it should be under the banner of the world we wanted." I looked at her with a wide smile, and nodded. It was a spectacular gift.

"I hope you like it, because we stayed up all night finishing it once Julie told us you would be marching again," said Élodie, as she began to attach the flag to its staff, "You're lucky I wasn't able to sleep anyway." That was an obvious lie, but my appreciation for the efforts of both sisters was too great for me to be annoyed by it, and I simply chuckled.

"It's the best sigil I've seen," Claire added, "I don't understand what it is, though." My chuckle turned to a laugh,

The flagstaff was handed up to Tam to carry, and the Qunari stared at it for a moment while running the fabric over the top of her palm. Her eyes moved around, inspecting every detail. She liked it, I could tell.

"Will you carry it for me?" I asked, "The sight of you with this banner will scare the living shit out of our enemies, and you'll look absolutely beautiful to anyone else." Including me. The reputation of her people was well known, after all. The sight of a Qunari with a cause other than that of the Qun ought to give pause to any Thedosian, I thought.

Tam's warmer smile appeared. "That's a good idea," the Qunari said, as she moved her hold on the staff and raised it. The autumn wind caught the silk, and it billowed out behind her.

Julie rode up to me, and taking me by the waist softly, delivered a kiss goodbye. Her eyes lingered on mine for a moment, and I realised that she was worried. Not content to leave her in such a state, I had to say something.

"Don't worry, we'll win," I said.

"I know," Julie replied, trotting Revas around the back of Bellona to Tam.

She kissed the Qunari in the same way she had kissed me, and then sat up bolt straight in the saddle.

"Take care of him," Julie said in a commanding tone. For her part, Tam nodded once, and the pair of them looked back over at me. I frowned, wondering why that had to be said.

"Shouldn't that be the other way around?" I asked. Admittedly, my male pride had been prickled somewhat by the assumption. After all, I was a veteran of wars neither of them could even dream about in their worst nightmares, packing all sorts of heat, and used to fighting with men almost exclusively. Both Julie and Tam grinned at my complaint.

"You are not from Thedas, Sam," Julie explained, "Now go rescue the mages, so they can rescue us." An apt statement if ever there was one. I tilted my head away, not willing to give her the point directly but giving away my compliance with the gesture nonetheless.

Tam and I donned our round Earth-helmets, and Claire and Élodie stepped back to allow our passage. Together we rode off to join our columns and wagons. Just before we passed the gate, I slowed Bellona to a trot and had a last look at Julie. She didn't look sad, angry, happy or anything. She just looked. I winked at her and smiled, before joining Tam in advancing to the front along the edge of the road.

We soon came up on the wagon which Armen was driving, Ciara and Leha lounging on the back on top of my toys. If they knew what they were sitting on, I wondered if they'd be so calm. I snickered to myself as we passed.

The blue flag did not go unnoticed as we moved, and almost every soldier lifted their eyes to look. This pleased me. I suspect it would have pleased the Secretary-General as well. Regardless, it was their flag now too.

---

The weather on the march was pleasant for autumn, and warmer than it had been for weeks before. Aside from the cold breeze, there was nothing to stop us from making a solid twenty five miles a day. We probably could have went faster, particularly if we had loaded up the wagons with some of the troops in shifts, but I didn't want to wear out the pack horses. Who knew what condition some of the mages would be in when we arrived? I had already seen the inside of a supposedly civilised detention facility, and I had no doubt that the Templar prison was worse. I had been informed as much.

Sister Nightingale was silent with me throughout the next few days.

In the day, she rode at the head of the column with Mike or Soprano. I watched her a little in that time. Her head and eyes were constantly on the move, scanning the countryside to either side of the road and ahead on the trail. She had been trained in observation techniques of some kind, evidently, and I began to regret agreeing to Julie's demand to stay behind. We lost an excellent opportunity to learn more about the mysterious spymaster of the Chantry there, most definitely.

At night, the Sister walked through the camp, talking to a few people here and there, as if she wasn't some terrifying killer. She had extreme social grace, effortlessly injecting herself into any conversation that she happened to pass by. Closer to the hour to sleep, she would sit in a tent and scribble in journals for a few hours before turning in. I recognised intelligence gathering when I saw it, as primitive as her techniques were in that regard. Of course, technology greatly helps you along in that. It sent shivers down my spine that her reports would eventually be seen by the highest religious authority on the continent. If the Divine didn't like what she read, us fleeing to Tevinter or the Qunari were hardly sound options, or so I thought. All the more reason to have these mages on-side.

The troops themselves were in high spirits. Many of them watched me, waiting for me to do something amazing at random. I spoke to them, joked about the events of the past few days. What they called the Battle in the Rain was the main topic of discussion. I decided to be open with them as much as possible. They asked about my immunity to magic around the campfires often. How it worked, how I got it, what I intended to do with it. I answered honestly. No magic can affect me, for good or ill. I do not know how I had this power. I would use it to protect what I had and those important to me.

That last bit usually encouraged them, as they counted themselves almost as my possessions despite my removing their feudal ties to me. I wasn't exactly pleased by this attitude, but I figured it was the first step. Deference is not a disadvantage in the military, after all. As long as the guys up top know what they're doing.

When the Sister eventually did get around to speaking to me, it was the morning of November 5th, a few hours before we would arrive at our destination. All of us were negotiating hills and small valleys at this point, and it wasn't long before light snow began appearing in patches. I was riding alongside Tam in front of the wagons when she finally deemed me worthy of conversation. She rode up on a brown horse, one very obviously bred for speed and endurance. She wore a studious expression as she fell in beside us for a few minutes, not saying anything. I was intrigued by the horse for a moment, until I noticed its rider. Her stare was directed at both Tam and myself, I might add. It was more than a little irritating. Satisfied we could have a conversation more privately thanks to the steady beat of drums and feet on the ground, I decided I couldn't take it any more.

"Is there something I can help you with, Madame Nightingale?" I asked, injecting my annoyance into my tone.

The Sister's head jerked towards me slightly in my peripheral vision, but I kept my eyes forward.

"Yes you can, Captain," she said in a polite manner, "Or is it Marquis?" Her attempt at maintaining the niceties did nothing for my mood. I scowled at her, which just seemed to amuse the woman to no end.

"Marquis," I replied, "It's my real position now anyway." I was beginning to enjoy the title, at least when dealing with people who thought highly of themselves. Of course, Sister Nightingale actually had reason to think as such, given her skills and position. She remained an interloper in my mind, and a potential threat of unimaginable magnitude. She was definitely one of the few people in Thedas who had seen things on a level with what I had. I decided to have a gulp from my flask.

"I have been speaking to your men," the Sister continued, "They are of the opinion that you were sent by the Maker."

My drink went down the wrong way upon my hearing that, causing me to cough and splutter it back. What a thing to say!

"Good God, I hope not," I wheezed by turning to the other rider in our group, "Tam, do you know anything about this?" She kept her ear to the ground on things as far as I was aware, and I definitely needed a second opinion.

Tam nodded immediately. "That is the opinion among the women I have talked to, yes," she said, "Though I can't say I agree with it." Of course she couldn't, she knew me far more intimately. As for why it was women she was talking to, most of the men were either trying to get into her pants or were intimidated by her. She held a nebulous position in our military hierarchy too, which didn't make things easier. Still, I couldn't help but make the joke.

"Ah, I see. Just as long as it's the women who think the Maker sent me..." I mused. Tam grinned at that, and pat me on the top of my helmet hard a few times.

"Whatever you need to believe," she said.

"You aim to please," I replied.

This exchange elicited perhaps the most polite 'Ahem' that I have ever heard. Sister Nightingale's patience for such banter was fairly short, undoubtedly because I was deflecting from the main problem. Which was the point. I had and have no desire to be a figure of religious worship, but anyone knows that denying it openly doesn't work. Simply ignoring the phenomenon is far better. Thankfully, Julie would divert much of this sort of attention from me soon.

I'm not the Messiah, I'm a very naughty boy.

"If you are from another world, there can be no other explanation save one," the Sister pressed, "Either the Maker brought you here or demons did. No one else would have the power."

I chuckled at the absurdity of it. I was tempted to confirm the latter conclusion just to see what she did, but as it would have undoubtedly resulted in a confrontation ending in her death by gunshot, I thought better of it. Of course, there was a gaping hole in her theory.

"Or it was natural," I said, "I've seen no evidence so far that I was brought here for a purpose. Truth be told, your deity doesn't seem to be the same one as mine." I was having greater doubts on that. Fucking multiverse.

"The Maker works in mysterious ways," the Sister replied without hesitation, "He spoke to me at a time of crisis for the whole world, and yet I was unworthy of such attention." That was quite a statement, and it left my eyes wide with surprise. It drove a fairly huge wedge between my God and the Maker. My God didn't speak to people like that, not any more. Guess he figures things are a little too crowded on Earth for it to be of any use.

I wasn't the only one interested in that bit. Tam's head swivelled quickly to begin a intricate inspection of the Sister, like what she had said had meant something to the Qunari. Indeed it had, but for the moment, I was more concerned with dodging the divine bullet. Pun intended.

"The Maker brought you here, or demons did," the Sister said firmly, "That you don't know the purpose means nothing, it can exist without your knowledge of it." Which was a fair point.

Of course, it was neither the Maker, nor demons, nor a natural occurrence that transported me to Thedas, and we'd be learning about that soon enough. Of course, magic was involved, so I suppose it is accurate to say that the Maker allowed it and that demons probably benefited from the process. For the moment, I was not going to indulge in idle speculation.

"It doesn't matter who brought me here, I'm not their puppet," I rebuked, "Anyone who presumes to assume so is going to feel it." Feel hot, copper-jacketed lead at high velocity. Or a blast wave from some high explosives. Either way, they'd be excessively dead. A warning that Sister Nightingale didn't seem to take any heed of.

"Tell me Marquis, what is your world like?" she said, as if she were merely continuing a casual conversation we had already embarked on. It was extremely frustrating, as she completely had defused the tension in an instant. How she was doing it, I did not know. It seemed wrong to remain with my guard up in the face of her complete obliviousness, artificial as it was. I sighed, and felt compelled to answer.

"Not that different to here, really," I said, "Except we are more advanced. Even our most primitive nations would likely defeat Orlais, Tevinter or the Qunari in battle, and their … peasants likely live twice as long." Albeit at no small cost. Firearms give you a huge advantage over mages in all circumstances, and indeed the direct use of mages in battle is sheer folly in my mind. Though the particular nations' soldiers would probably cower in fear if some nutjob shot lightning at them with a stick. At first. Then they'd toke up some hallucinogens and charge headlong into it, Kalashnikovs blazing. As for life expectancies, they're only so high due to aid from more advanced nations.

Thedas had magic. Earth has chemistry. Chemistry beats magic. Most of the time.

"No elves though," came Armen's contribution from the cart behind, as if Earth must be entirely boring without elves. Admittedly, having multiple species did make things interesting. But also more fraught with conflict. Evidently, the noise of the march hadn't provided the privacy I had hoped for, and I buried my face in my palm.

"No Qun either," Tam added, a great deal more cheerfully than Armen had.

I turned around in my saddle to tell the mage to shut up, but was confronted with the sight of Leha looking like she had just been slapped across the face after being rejected by a desire demon. Knowing she must have heard the entire conversation, I groaned loudly. She wasn't supposed to be informed of my origins. Complications upon complications.

"You're from another world?!" she said, "When were you going to tell me that?!" I groaned and ignored her. She seemed to begin brooding, which was a very bad sign.

"See what you've done?" I asked the Sister, "Now my secret will be all over Hearth by the end of the week." Leha could keep a secret when she wanted to, especially if it affected her profits, but was most definitely what anyone would call a gossip. It was half the reason she made such a good source of information in the first place. Too bad that the door opened two ways in that.

"If they believe her," the Sister retorted, "Besides, that is not the rumour you should worry about."

"Oh, and what pray tell should I worry about?" I said, "I've already got enough trouble without that becoming common knowledge."

The Sister rode ahead and stopped in front of me and Tam, causing Fritz and Bellona to rear up slightly to halt. The whole column of wagons and the rearguard were forced to a stop as well, and the temptation to shoot her again arose.

"If the Templars discover what we will do at the prison, you will find out," she said, "And the Divine can be in no way implicated if they catch you, is that clear?" I snorted my disdain for whatever the Templars regarded as force.

"Allow me to make something clear myself," I replied, "You are a primitive. The Templars are primitives. Everyone here, is a primitive. How you look upon an Avvar raiding party is exactly how I see all of your societies. You're freakin' barbarians with bows and arrows. All I want to do is live in peace, but if I'm threatened with death and torture, I'll have no choice but to show you all what war really is."

Needless to say, I had my fill of threats from every quarter. To hell with Orlais, the Chantry, the Qun, and every little tinpot prick from the Dales to Par Vollen. I had the knowledge to undo entire nations if I needed it. It was getting hard to follow my determination to keep Earth weapons technology off the table. Especially when all the powers that be seemed to want from me was death. The only people not worthy of utter contempt were those in my inner circle, and there was hope for those in my charge.

I guess Julie and Tam were rubbing off on me. Phrasing.

The Sister was not impressed with my little speech, to my complete lack of surprise. She was clearly contemptuous of my threats, as much as I was of hers. Given that she was extremely dangerous, as well as stubborn to the point of being utterly certain in her convictions, that was inevitable. Her eyes penetrated me with her disdain. I kept a straight face and looked right back. It went like that for a few more seconds, until Tam rode alongside with her hand on her longsword. Nightingale broke off her gaze.

"We shall see," she said, before finally allowing the resumption of the march. Indeed we would.

---

The prison at Wolf's Lair was in the foothills of the mountains that separated Ferelden from Orlais, north of the Emprise du Lion and east of Hearth. Its surroundings were what you'd expect; tall evergreen trees with hardy shrubs clinging to more rocky areas, exposed stone in increasing regularity as we ascended higher, wildlife thinning out for reasons the name of the place probably gives away. Wolves tracked our column cautiously in the forest. I was disturbed that any such animals would act that way towards humans or elves, but I was still living in an Earth mindset, wherein wolves were taught long ago to fear us, hunted by wolfhounds and firelances.

We had plenty of information on the prison itself courtesy of Sister Nightingale, but seeing it in person was quite a different thing. It was constructed at the site of an old dwarva lyrium mine, cut into the side of a large cliff and protected by a curtail wall. There was a large space between the wall and the cliff face, studded with buildings where the guards and staff lived and where supplies were kept. The mine entrances were beyond those, capped with metal cage doors. Those mines were where the prisoners lived, in a complex miles long cut into the rock.

For years, the tunnels had been the only independent source of lyrium in the entire world, until the supply ran dry and Orlais turned it into a prison. The Templars took over control only a few years before when it was discovered the place had strong anti-magical properties, making it the perfect place to house mages that had deviant views. Death wasn't enough for such people in the eyes of the Templars, but there were only a few ever imprisoned until Halamshiral's Circle threw off their chains and escaped. There were possibly as many as five hundred mages of all ages trapped behind metal and stone defences, guarded by two hundred Templars and an unknown number of Chantry attendants.

It was a complicated set of circumstances to negotiate.

I looked up at the walls from the edge of the treeline, behind which we were hiding. They were lit up an angry red by the low winter sun. They weren't particularly large, just large enough to fend off the mountain raiders and darkspawn attacks that occasionally came along. It would have taken ladders or siege towers to scale them. My weapons could crack them most likely, but getting close enough to do it and then withdrawing from the blast once the Templars were aware of our presences would be impossible. We didn't have time to lay siege or build enough ladders to make that an option, and it would cost me more lives than I was willing to pay. Perhaps even my own life, though I was less worried about that. Thought maybe I'd even wake up from the whole Thedas thing if I did.

I was contemplating what to do, when Sister Nightingale approached from behind. I felt she could answer a few questions of mine, so I waved her over.

"I don't suppose you have a trebuchet under your chainmail?" I asked flippantly, "Otherwise this is going to be a problem." Tossing satchel charges by medieval catapult would have worked, to say the least.

The Sister stepped further forward with a frown, her eyes scanning the battlements until a resigned air crossed them. She had known about the problem beforehand, I realised. I groaned inwardly, and got out my binoculars. The spymaster was testing me. Assessing my capabilities and philosophies, seeing what I would do when confronted with this problem, what I would think of it and how I would overcome it if at all. I was being judged, and I had no intention of failing under inspection by a major political force.

"I'm afraid not, Marquis," she said flatly, "What will you do?"

It was a good question.

My thoughts moved to my imperatives, what I was looking to achieve. I needed to get inside the prison to free the mages, and I couldn't take casualties doing it. To do that, I needed to get my own battalion past or over the walls to engage the Templars, preferably before they could bring their full strength off of guard duties in the mines and around the entrances. Or before they could begin reprisals or hostage taking against the prisoners. Something occurred to me.

I brought my binoculars up to my eyes and scanned the top of the wall and the towers that punctuated it. As I thought, there were very few guards looking out into the evening forest gloom. One per tower, as far as I could tell and two in the gatehouse. Like many prisons, they were more concerned about the prisoners breaking out than people trying to break in. Probably more so given that the inmates could shoot fire from their fingertips. That opened up two possibilities, ranked by desirability.

"Sister Nightingale, how familiar are you with the Templars?" I asked, "Their doctrines and ideas, especially."

The Sister tilted her head at the question, not sure how it was relevant to getting inside. She nodded slightly before answering, as if she had noted my move.

"I am as familiar as it is possible to be, without being a Templar anyway," she replied, "I am knowledgeable of all their traits, both open and secret." As the Divine had ordered her to be, no doubt. The Templars were already becoming rebellious themselves.

I smiled, glad to hear that I wouldn't just be guessing.

"If I made a show of force, would they surrender?" I asked. Offering them the opportunity after encouraging their compliance was a classic peacekeeping tactic, one that I had used successfully myself on one or two occasions. Nothing quite like seeing an angry crowd back off at the collective click of firelances being readied to shoot. Unfortunately, Templars are not a mob or even soldiers.

The Sister's eyes and mouth both smirked at my naiveté, like the idea was entirely absurd. I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration.

"They would certainly not surrender. They are charged with the imprisonment of hundreds of apostates," she said, "In fact, they are likely to attempt to kill the mages if they discover your goal." Which meant we couldn't give the Templars the opportunity to do so, which also meant putting the lives of my soldiers on the line beyond what I was comfortable with. Most of them were still green.

"That's just great," I muttered.

There was only one route to victory left open to me. The towers at the outermost edges were vulnerable because of the surrounding stone. They had blindspots that I could exploit. Just not with my entire force.

"Well, I guess this means we're going rock climbing," I said flippantly. The Sister simply stared back at me, not quite getting my meaning.

---

I was unable to take the bare minimum of people, to my chagrin. Tam and Ciara were the two essential people, and originally I planned to go with them alone. They were both adept at sneaking about, and both utterly deadly with weapons far more quiet than my own. I had no desire to sound alarms with gunfire, so until we accomplished what I intended, I would need their skills. However, as Ciara donned Earth panoply for the first time and we got together the toys to crack the prison wide open, others invited themselves along to join us.

First to declare herself with frustrating inevitability was Sister Nightingale. She hadn't really left my side since we had arrived, but did not seem interested in helping us along until I started pulling some interesting devices out. We'll get to those, but she wanted to make a full report to her superiors. I had no problem with that. I wanted to intimidate the powers-that-be, and I could tell she would be as useful as Tam and Ciara. She carried similar weapons and carried herself like a veteran. In truth, she was far more deadly than either of them, at least at that moment, but when you've walked through a Blight and faced an Archdemon...

The next person to wander into our circle of wagons was very surprising. Leha trotted in with a grim face, wearing chainmail, a sword on her belt, and hefting a crossbow over her shoulder. After a few threats of blackmail and withdrawing her services, I gave in to her request to join us. She wanted to keep me nearby, to watch me, albeit for different reasons than the Sister did. The unintended revelation that I wasn't born of Thedas had made an impression. There would be consequences to that, but for the moment, she was quietly assessing if it was true or not. What we would do was confirmation enough for anyone, I think.

There was another who would tag along without our knowledge, but that grinning idiot was nowhere to be found as we moved out as the sky darkened. Sister Nightingale kindly informed us that the Templars took their evening meal at a certain time after sunset. As that moment approached, we skulked out from the treeline and made our way to the right of the walls until we met the rock in front of us. It was the surprisingly gentle slope that made its way up until it met the wall near the arrowslit of the far tower. I made sure we could actually make it, standing myself up on the stone awkwardly. It was difficult but far from impossible, even with the weight we were carrying.

Only one thing left to do before the hike.

"Batallion, sound off," I said in Orlesian over the radio. I needed to know if everyone else was in place.

One by one, the platoons sounded off in order of precedence. Red, Gold, Blue, Green, all standing by, ready to move when I gave the order. Red Platoon under the command of Sergeant Mike were les Enfants Perdus, the forlorn hope, and I had given her our blue banner to carry in the hope that it would give them the extra confidence to commit everything to the charge. I detected no wavering in the voices of any of my subordinates. If anything, Soprano sounded positively eager, and McNulty as jaded as ever. Any doubts that I had failed in my preparations disappeared, and I gathered my team around for a final chat.

"Alright, like we discussed," I said, "We're going up, through that tower, along the wall to the gatehouse. No speaking unless absolutely necessary. I'll be relying on you guys to do the ugly stuff until we get there or until we're discovered. Any questions?"

Ciara put her hand up, something she learned from watching Tam's schoolkids no doubt. With a smirk, I nodded to her.

"What do we do if we are discovered?" she asked.

"Assuming we can't get to the gatehouse, we kill our way to the mines and release the mages," I replied, "Best pray they're strong enough to help us." I had no doubt we could make it that far if it came to it, but getting out afterwards would very much depend on how lively the mages were. It was a messy Plan B, and one I hoped to avoid. One that would have failed.

"Can we get climbing?" Leha asked impatiently, "Standing around here is giving me a bad feeling."

"One thing," Tam said.

The Qunari grabbed me and pushed her lips against mine. I was entirely unprepared, so it was awkward as hell, but filled me with the familiar warm feeling nonetheless. Part of me wished she hadn't. Kisses for luck were often bad luck, in my experience. We parted and she turned, taking the lead on the narrow escarpment. Given her distrust of mages, one might have thought she would be less eager to get into a fight to free them, but I think she was doing it for me. I'm glad she had that level of trust in me.

Leha followed her up next, scrambling over the waist height stone that met the patchy grass under us and keeping her crossbow at the ready with one hand. It was as I watched her exertions that I noticed the look that the Sister was giving me. I could tell it was about Tam and I. It was apparently an unusual arrangement even without Julie's domineering presence.

"Is there something wrong, Sister?" I asked flatly, somewhat irritated by her curiosity on the subject.

"Nothing at all, Marquis," she replied, "You managed to surprise me. Not many can do that." The spymaster stepped forwards and fell in behind Leha, leaving Ciara and myself behind with an air of complete superiority, leaving me unsure whether she approved or disapproved of what had just happened.

Ciara shook her head.

"You need to watch that shem, Sam," she said, her lyrical accented deepened with warning, "I get this feeling when I'm near her, like she could kill you with her shadow." I hmmed my agreement with that.

We began climbing, Ciara taking the rear.

It was hard going. The rock had gathered the rain in some places, and was loose in others. As we climbed higher, the wind picked up and the water turned to ice. I had to pick every footfall with absolute precision to avoid falling, sometimes crawling along on my stomach to get over obstacles that regularly stuck out of the face of the stone. It was miserable and cold, but we were getting the drop on our opponents. At intervals, I called a halt quietly and inspected the walls. The guards were either distracted or looking out into the night, not up at the mountain.

All went smoothly until we came close to the tower.

It was Leha who gave us the first real hiccup. The path, if you could call it that, narrowed even more as we approached the meeting point of the tower and the rock. Worse, the ground was loose, full of pebbles worn down by freeze-thaw from further above. Leha, still holding her crossbow, wasn't using both her hands to cling to the sides, and the act of doing so unbalanced her.

She slipped and fell, grabbing the edge with her one free hand and thus saving her own life. I winced as I watched Tam pull the dwarf back up. The damage had already been done. A large number of stones fell with her, knocking loudly against the cliff and coming to a halt on the ground with harsh cracking sounds. My eyes tracked immediately to the nearest guard. We were close enough that binoculars were unnecessary.

Time seemed to slow as the man turned about, his tabard emblazoned with the flaming sword of his order clearly visible now. He was armed with a bow, and was protected by chainmail and a helmet. His eyes met mine. My hands moved automatically to my weapon. I could tell I wouldn't make it in time. The guard's mouth opened to shout the alarm.

An white fletched arrow zipped into his throat, sticking there.

The bowman collapsed, clutching the bloody mess under his chin, dropping his weapon. He began gurgling, which made me sick to my stomach. Yet I felt relieved at the same time. Our cover was intact, as far as I could tell. I looked around to see which of my companions had shot the arrow. I found Sister Nightingale putting her short composite bow away, grim satisfaction on her face. I have to admit that this was the moment I began to respect her. She had acted with complete grace and without hesitation to save us all. I told her this in later years, and all she did in reply was smile. Alas, at the time, we didn't have time for pleasantries like that.

I signalled Tam to scale the six feet to the top of the tower ahead, and she gave me a thumbs up before moving the last thirty metres along the cliff to carry out my command. She pulled herself up with no trouble at all, lifted each of us by the hand up and over. We were in, to my immense happiness. Now it was time to fight.

"Weapons out, kill anyone who gets in our way," I ordered, before pulling out what I had selected for the job. It was a shotgun, a smoothbore firelance that could fire solid slugs or buckshot similar to what you might see from a Qunari swivelgun. An up close and personal weapon.

I covered the hatch to the tower itself, while Tam opened it. It was empty, save for a table with some food on it and a chair by the arrowslit. No surprises. Things were looking up.

I climbed down the ladder first, and gingerly opened the door to the wall. Torches and oil lamps stood in between the crenellations, putting a little light onto the battlements, but otherwise it was very dark. There was no sign of any other guards in the space to the next tower, which I was glad for. None except the cooling corpse of the one that the Sister had shot, anyway. Unlucky bastard.

"We're clear to the next tower," I said, "Let's go."

I led the way across at a casual pace, so as not to draw any eyes in the prison square below. The buildings were clustered at the other end of the compound, which is why I chose that part of the wall to assault. Less chance of someone raising the alarm from the habitations. We soon came to the door. I could hear someone talking inside, which complicated things. I had only seen one guard.

As I decided what to do, Leha stepped forwards. I almost shouted at her to stop, but managed to restrain myself in time. She knocked on the door loudly, and drew her sword. The rest of us scrambled to cover her, as footsteps approached.

"Gambon, you better not be asking for more ale," said a gruff voice beyond, "You've had your ration already." Leha didn't respond, but just knocked harder. I got what she was trying to do immediately and moved to assist.

A heavy sigh rumbled from behind the door, and after some fiddling with locks, the door itself swung outwards. A man in plate armour appeared, sword sheathed and looking annoyed, his helmet off. Leha pounced, slashing her sword across the man's face. With impressive speed, no less. Unfortunately, the blow wasn't lethal. With a hiss of pain, he stumbled back into the room behind. Knowing I had seconds before he'd raise the alarm, I panicked and rushed forwards to deliver a savage kick to his knee.

He dropped to his thighs and attempted to get his sword out. It was too late. Leha turned her sword, and stabbed it downward into his collar with both hands. Withdrawing it, blood sprouted from the Templar's mouth and he dropped to the floor, very dead indeed. I grimaced at the sight. Seeing men blown apart was brutal, but there is always something primal about melee combat that shakes the mind. The dwarf wiped her blade clean on the man's clothes.

"Where did you learn to do that?" asked Tam, rather fairly I thought, "You've never expressed any interest in fighting before." Leha was supposed to be a merchant, after all. Fighting was unprofitable, as the woman herself was so fond of saying.

"I wasn't born a trader," the dwarf replied with a tinge of anger, "This sort of thing is why I became one." Also a fair statement. I became as interested in her history as much as she was with mine. I guess we were both learning each other's true nature. I pat her on the shoulder, understanding what she meant entirely. I had originally mustered out of my nation's army for a similar enough reason. Despite being smart enough for other things, I never was any good at anything else. Which is why I went back to it.

Ciara went to the door opposite, and managed to get it open with a little trouble. We continued along the wall a little more quickly, not speaking a word but all understanding that the danger that someone had heard us was greater now. Despite those fears, we made it along to the opening to the gatehouse without incident. Unfortunately, there was no door. I leaned against the wall beside to listen. There was a ruckus inside, metal moving on stone and shuffling feet.

"Who are they?" asked a voice worriedly, "And why are they here?"

"Seems to be elves, but they're not like any Dalish I've ever seen," said a female voice with far more confidence, "They definitely are waiting to attack us, they are positioned to move on the gate."

"Do they have battering rams?" the worried one continued, "Or Maker help us, ladders? Chasind raiders I could deal with, but an army of mystery elves? This is too much."

"Calm yourself, Templar. Remember who you are," the assured one commanded, her Fereldan accent more pronounced, "Go fetch the Knight-Captain, he'll want to see this for himself."

They were speaking about my soldiers laying in wait. We had been spotted, though how we had been was a mystery. Still, with the assault troops discovered, I had to act fast. Flicking the safety off my shotgun again, I swung through the opening to the room and levelled it at the two guards. The others followed me in, bows out and in Leha's case, crossbow drawn and ready to shoot.

The two templars nearly jumped out of their skins when we appeared. The gatehouse towers were joined together at this level to create a single gallery, open to the air. The pair were wearing the same plate armour as the guard Leha had put down, and their swords were already out. I guess keeping them in their scabbards seemed like a bad idea with an army on the doorstep.

"Good evening," I growled through a smile, "The Knight-Captain doesn't need to know shit." To say they were taken aback was a huge exaggeration. They were utterly stupefied.

"Drop your weapons," Tam commanded.

"Or we drop you," Leha added, wiggling her crossbow slightly.

I had hoped that the worried one would surrender at the very least. He was obviously a freshly-minted Templar. He looked as young as Ciara, barely able to grow face-fuzz. Maybe he was. It didn't matter, because his female superior was clearly long in the tooth, an old hand at the wheel. The Sister would later confide that this was a survivor from Kirkwall, which probably explains the zealotry we were about to witness. The senior Templar laughed her ass off at us, like we were comedians. It pissed me right off. Then she brought her swordpoint to shoulder height and charged.

Charged at me no less, most likely because that path put me between her and Leha's crossbow. The fact that my weapon was entirely alien to her probably was a factor too, but it was far from alien to me. Her plate armour extended only to the middle of her belly, and might have protected her from a lethal hit of the buckshot if it had extended further. Except it didn't and I took aim appropriately. A bloody rose of a wound erupted from her pelvis section following the deep boom-flash of my shotgun. She tumbled to the ground yards from my feet.

The young one had followed her lead, swinging the sword about his head and screaming as he came on. Tam, Ciara, Leha and Sister Nightingale had plenty of warning. They filled him with shot. Tam's distinctive black fletched arrow pierced an eye. Ciara's white feathered arrow managed to penetrate his chestplate, her investment in better arrows not wasted. Leha's crossbow bolt followed my lead and buried itself in his gut. The Sister's more ornate arrow struck under his sword arm. The boy stopped in his tracks, but managed to stay standing for a few seconds, letting out a ghastly moan and falling backwards when his strength failed him.

I dismissed the two as gone, having no good or bad feelings about their deaths whatsoever. They were in the way, they had the choice to get out of the way, they failed to take it. Their deaths were on their hands. Brutal by the standards of my home, but positively generous by Thedosian morals.

"Tam, Ciara, guard the other opening," I said, tossing the only torch in the room into a bucket of water. The room went dark, some moonlight from the openings being the only illumination.

The Qunari and the Dalish slung their bows and drew their daggers, and took up a side of the doorway each. They knew the drill. The Templars in the tower opposite undoubtedly heard the noise, whether it was the shotgun blast, the shouting or the scream. A quick check of the buildings told me that the Templars eating in the large mess hall had not heard it.

I also discovered how the Templars had been able to spot our people in the forest.

"It's a telescope," I said, approaching it.

"Not for stargazing, Marquis," the Sister replied, "It's a night glass from the University of Orlais... though how one came to be here, I do not know." The Templars had friends in academic circles. I looked through the eyepiece to see what the enemy had, and sure enough, Soprano and her skirmishers could be seen in the trees in just enough detail to be noticeable. It intrigued me, and although we had work to do, my mind turned to another task.

"Leha, is this worth anything?" I asked. The dwarf looked at the piece for less than a second.

"More than a few sovereigns," she said, "Plenty of nobles like to watch wildlife at night. Or hunt." I smiled as I smelled an opportunity.

"Take it and put it in the tower we came through," I said, "No need to destroy it with the building. The rest of you, hand over your satchels." Our gambit was explosives. Powerful, remotely detonated, plastic explosives. I had brought no small amount either, knowing how to make more being the reason for my enthusiasm in using it. The formula was valuable enough for dozens of spies to have died attempting to obtain it in the years since. Good thing they don't know that more simple recipes exist, albeit more dangerous ones. The group threw the bags to me, most of them entirely unaware of what they had been carrying.

As I prepared the charges, two Templars made the bad decision of storming through from the wall on the opposite side to our entry point. They were dealt with swiftly.

Tam clotheslined the first with her curved dagger, partially decapitating the man. That was quiet. Ciara grabbed the back of the other's armour and drove her straight blade into his lower back for the kidneys. That was very far from quiet.

A blood-curdling screech, louder than anything else I had heard from a human being thus far, was the result.

My fears jumped to the front of my mind, and I was forced to over to the edge of the gallery on the inside. Sure enough, doors were opening on the large mess building and Templars wandering outside onto the flagstones to see what the fuss was. My blood rose in every part of my body. The screwing around stage had ended.

"We don't have much time," I said, "All of you go back to the other tower, now!"

No one questioned or complained. They could see the dozen Templars approaching as well, and that number seemed to be increasing. Leha picked up the night glass, and was escorted out by the others, their bows nocked and ready to draw. I knew they'd be spotted, but that they'd be safe in the next tower. Less entrances to defend over there.

I threw two satchels to the bottom of each of the gatehouse's towers, through the ladder hatches. The fifth and final charge I placed on the top of the closed portcullis. Satisfied we could make a big enough hole in the place to get in without trouble, I turned around to join the others only to find a spectacular sight.

A Templar was charging at me, and he was engulfed in flames. I scrambled backwards, as he came on, two short swords raised to stab into me. In my shock, I dove away, but managed to kick out upon landing. The man went sprawling onto the floor, still on fire.

His roars of pain and anger continued as he stood up. My own reason began to assert itself in the time I had won. How had he gotten so close without my noticing? More importantly, why in the name of God was he on fire? I asked myself these questions as I reached for my handcannon to end him. Someone beat me to it.

A lightning bolt flew from beyond the doorway and into the burning Templar, near blinding and deafening me with the light and boom in the enclosed space. I cursed to myself, blinking away afterimages of the sight through my pain. I knew who was responsible.

"Armen!" I shouted, "What the fuck are you doing here?!"

The mage entered the room, stepped over the thoroughly deceased assassin, his spear-like staff recovered from some place. No smile either. He was all business, when it came to the Rebellion. I'm not sure there is a word to describe exactly how annoyed I was.

"I wondered where the hell you had disappeared to," I said, "Don't tell me you were with us the whole time." His emotional state around this prison was bound to be entirely out of whack. I had intended to order him to stay put. He had known that, and whipped up some magical crap to make himself see-through or some crap, I suspected. I was dead on.

"Leha never struck me as the warrior type," Armen mused, "But is now really the best time to chastise me?" He flicked his head back towards the courtyard beyond the wall.

There were now dozens of Templars below, some distance off and still gathered near the mess hall, but all looking up our way. Their commander was no idiot. The walls were lost for all they knew, so they were massing their troops to retake them. It would be less than a minute before they'd be ready, I guessed. The notion of them charging from every direction wasn't what scared me. The Templars having some understanding of what I was trying to accomplish on the other hand did. The random bags laying around the bottom of the towers might have given them some indication.

"With me," I growled at Armen, "NOW!" I grabbed his robes and shoved him out onto the wall again. We began to run, and that really got the attention of the enemy. Arrows began whistling by, and the sound of shouting followed behind them. I didn't want to look back, I just kept moving Armen along with shouting and pushing.

The others appeared at the top of the tower, and began shooting back at the archers, but the arrows kept getting thicker, bouncing off the wall in front of us. I wasn't sure if I was going to make it, particularly with that plodding elf mage in front of me. He realised it too.

About half way, Armen stopped in his tracks and spun on his heels, bringing his staff up. After a quick spin to collect power, he slammed the butt of the thing onto the wall and brilliant white light poured out from it as I passed him. The arrows stopped immediately, as it directed itself at those who were throwing them our way. They curled over, trying to get out of the light, much to my amusement. We jogged the rest of the way across the wall. By the time they had all recovered and had resumed the pursuit, we through the tower door. Whatever I might say, magic is useful.

I peered through a crack in the door. They were running across the huge courtyard towards us from the far end, but they couldn't have known the danger. I felt a sort of anticipation as I watched, waiting for the shoe to drop but knowing it never would for them. I was ready when they ran by and through where we had just been.

"Fire in the hole," I said softly to myself, before depressing the radio trigger.

---

The explosion thudded loudly against the tower and threw stones against the door, breaking it in several places. The walls and floor shook violently, throwing Armen to his knees and sending me clinging to the wall. Composition Four's first introduction to Thedas was quite an event, to say the least. Chemistry is more useful.

Wanting to see if the Templars had been caught by the shockwave, I knocked aside the remains of the door. I immediately began coughing, as fine dust wafted into the air like a thick fog. The explosives had pulverised part of the tower's stone and mortar into the aerosol form that stuck to everything. I needed to know if the way was open, and whether or not the Templars had been stopped. Spluttering, I donned my thermal imaging equipment.

The heat silhouettes of at least fifty men and women appeared some distance away, sprawled out on the ground either dead or badly injured. Twice as many again were picking themselves up or huddled in fear, not understanding just what had happened. Unfortunately, I couldn't tell if the gate had been breached. Considering that my soldiers had orders to advance as soon as it was, this wasn't the most encouraging development. I turned to find the others climbing down the ladder from above in a daze.

"Did any of you see if the gate is down?" I asked, not thinking about the effects.

Sister Nightingale and Leha simply stared. The former like one studies a psychopath, the latter like one seeing a ghost for the first time. I was about to snap at the pair of them. We didn't have time for either of it, and I wanted a damned answer. Luckily, Tam and Ciara were on hand and familiar with my methods, if still a little out of it.

"Too much smoke," Tam replied, "Couldn't see through."

"It would be strange if it is still standing," said Ciara, waving dust away from her, "I think some of the roof tiles are on the moons." The explosion from the satchel I left by the top level certainly would have done something like that. Not literally of course, but the gatehouse roof would have been the first thing to go. I sighed and kicked open the hatch to the ground floor. The next phase began regardless, and there was nothing for it but to continue as planned.

We climbed down the ladder and went into the courtyard. Tam and Ciara walked parallel to me with their bows ready, and Leha copied them. They paid attention to the training I had given the others, evidently. The Sister and Armen hung around behind. I think that pretty much sums up our whole relationship with the Chantry in the years to come. We do the hard fighting, they hang around in the back. Not that this was improper, Chantry goons can't fight for shit. Well, Sister Nightingale and Seeker Pentaghast could, at least.

We advanced slowly across the open space, which was littered with building debris. The dust was clearing now, which I had mixed feelings about. While I was cheered to see that the gatehouse was not only destroyed but obliterated, the Templars appeared to have recovered their wits and were gathering to attack us. I noted the time. There was still enough of it for us to get disembowelled.

"Parlay!" I shouted, "I wish to parlay!" I had no idea if it would work, but I thought it a good bet. This might strike you as absurd, but keep in mind that I had just destroyed an fortification effectively with a click of my fingers, and the living Templars had no idea about what would happen next if they delayed. My companions seemed to understand, at least. There were no queries as to why I'd give the Templars time to form ranks.

The enemy stopped about thirty or forty yards ahead of us. If I had to guess, maybe only half their strength was present and still standing. Many weren't fully armoured either, and very few had the customary plate armour on. Wearing it at dinner when the mages were safely locked away would have been impractical. Which was perfect news for us, if we'd survive the next few minutes. I let myself believe we would, simply because I didn't like the alternative.

One of them stepped forward and took off his helmet, revealing a scarred face and long hair, the torchlight increasing the visual effect of both. I could tell he had earned his place.

"I am Knight-Captain Denam," he said, authority dripping off every word, "To whom am I speaking and by what right do you attack a fortress of the Templar Order?"

Giving away information like who I was would have been idiotic. For all I knew, someone would survive, hide and report my every word. There was no problem answering the second question though, even if the asker would not understand its answer.

"Under the articles of United Nations Resolution 2249, all peacekeepers of the UNSIFOR are to prevent genocide, crimes against humanity, and war crimes. I am allowed to use all appropriate and proportionate force to do so." Utter gibberish to practically anyone in Thedas, except for Julie. Denam treated it as such too, his face curling with anger. He seemed to fume for a whole minute or two. That was very satisfying, to say the least.

"You attack us, have your pet mage use some foul magic to blast your way in, demand to speak with us... And that is all you have to say?!" he roared, "If you could repeat that trick, you would have already. Throw down your weapons or there will be no mercy, you're outnumbered!" Touchy touchy. A quick look at my watch to make sure I wouldn't seem foolish, and I delivered the punchline.

"You know, that is funny," I said, pouring swagger into my voice as much as I could, "I was about to say the same thing to you."

Right on schedule, the sound of moving feet in the hundreds began rumbling through the air. The Templars paused their giving me the evil eye. They began looking around and at each other. All eyes turned to a new sight. You couldn't help it.

Lit up by torches, Mike stood atop the rubble of the gatehouse, our flag high and caught by the breeze.

Behind her was McNulty and Soprano, followed by their companies. The Templars rippled with panic as my troops calmly marched off the heap and formed lines in a crescent shape around them. The shields were placed down and the crossbows levelled across them. I think my own people were surprised at just how few of the Templars had been gathered. There were others standing about the place in other parts of the compound, I could see, but they were backing away from joining the bloc of their fellows. I felt triumphant.

"What is this!" Denam hollered, "What have you done!"

"Kill them until they give up," I ordered by radio, loudly enough for anyone to hear.

"Yes, Marquis," said McNulty and Soprano together.

A drum beat the advance, and a hundred crossbows strung bolts out into the Templars. The sound of the hits was disturbingly like the patter of rain on the ground, a sort of wet noise. Only about twenty of those that took one went down dead, but about half were wounded. The Templars responded in the way typical of Thedosian militaries, an ragged, undisciplined charge, with no formation or cohesion whatsoever. My people were already switching over to swords and forming the defensive shieldwall. I didn't worry about them, they'd put the enemy to the sword with ease now that they were in the most advantageous situation. No tricks, no mages, no mercy.

A good twenty of the Templars came charging at us. With utter contempt on my face, I sent a couple of barks from my shotgun their way. Tam and Ciara added a volley of arrows for good measure, backed up immediately afterwards by Leha and the Sister. To my relief, it sent them scurrying away. Denam too, the bastard, managed to escape despite catching a crossbow bolt to the arm. They ran to join the general brawl or to the buildings, away from us. The temptation to follow and finish them off burrowed itself in my head, but I dug it out. We had more important business to attend to.

"Sister Nightingale, Where are the mages?" I said, "Our troops have this under control." Another understatement on my part. The fanaticism of the Templars was being met with cold discipline, and it was working. By now, two or even three of mine were laying into one Templar each, with swords and bolts. Soprano's skirmishers had managed to get up on the walls too, plucking arrows from their nests and putting them into those Templars that weren't as enthusiastic to close in.

"This way," the Sister said, before sprinting off towards the rock face about two hundred yards away. I ran after her as best I could, though I was much more burdened. Armen ran alongside me, his face stony and his expression utterly hardened. We ran past the edge of the buildings and to the mine entrances I had seen before. That's when we saw them.

Templars were banging batons and maces off the metal bars, trying to get the mages to back off. More interesting was how exactly they were keeping order among people who could burn them alive by thinking it. There were ripples like waves through the air, as they suppressed the magic. Not that I cared much, because there was another thing to see. Far more horrifying.

The mages were emaciated, walking bags of bones, barely alive. They huddled at the cage entrances, clinging to the bars, watching the action beyond with confusion or hope. It was hard to tell how many there were, they were packed so tightly in. Children as young as ten poked their heads out through the bars to see. Rage consumed me. I stepped forward to … deal with the guards.

Armen beat me to it. He ran at full pace, past the stunned Sister Nightingale, a bubble of fire expanding at the top of his staff with his every stride. I called out for him to stop, as did the others, but to no avail. I thought he'd incinerate the Templars, the mages, the whole side of the mountain if he didn't control himself.

The Templars themselves didn't even blink. Moving in unison for the first time, they placed the tip of their swords on the ground and chanted something unintelligible to me. In a second, the fireball winked out of existence, as if it had never been there at all. I had to blink twice to make sure what I had seen had actually happened. The Templars were no small threat to mages. Until this point, I had thought they were simply naturally resistant, like myself but less potently so. They were, of course, but they also possessed the ability to reinforce reality against manipulation by the Fade.

Armen stopped dead, almost falling over, before running back to us as the Templars chased him. It would have been comical, if it wasn't for the utter hatred in the eyes of the men and women doing the chasing. It goes almost without saying, like many of the others, I didn't have much moral qualms about cutting them down. Sister Nightingale didn't either, getting to grips with the first one using her daggers. Neck, gut, armpit, the daggers plunged into any poorly armoured part of the man. The danger her presence possessed came out into the light.

Tam hacked one to death with brutal swings of her longsword, while Leha and I dispatched two others. I shot mine in the chest, and the woman's chainmail was far from adequate enough to stop a door-breaching slug round. There was an audible crunch as her ribs cracked. I caught her right in the sternum. A real 'yeesh' moment, particularly as the last Templar threw down his sword and surrendered. I would have been tempted to in his shoes.

We all calmed down a bit at the gesture, like a switch was turned. I looked about, and seeing no other plate-armoured zealots around, I motioned for Tam and Armen to start cracking open the cages. They did so with enthusiasm with the Sister in tow, while Ciara and Leha covered our new prisoner.

"You're surrendering?" I asked, sure it was a trick to put a hidden blade into one of us.

"My death will not stop you freeing the mages," the Templar conceded, "Besides... just looking at them makes me feel sick. This is not why I joined the Order." The man's face was almost impossible to read with his helmet on, but the accent was definitely not Orlesian. I had just met my first Fereldan. Unable to make the judgment, I turned to someone I knew would have his measure.

"Sister, is he telling the truth?" I asked.

"I say we stick him in the cage and lock the door," Ciara interrupted, "Who cares if he's telling the truth!" It was an option, at least.

"He's laid down arms," Leha retorted, "Wouldn't be right." Ciara huffed in response, before meeting the Nightingale's eyes and stopping.

"He is being truthful," the Sister replied, "I think I know who he is... Templar, remove your helmet!" Her command was followed immediately, her voice being one that demanded obedience.

The Templar had a dark complexion, but honest eyes. Handsome bastard too. Defused my killing instinct completely, though I knew that wouldn't save him from Armen. However, something did occur to me. I didn't know anywhere enough about the enemy I was to fight. There was yet another opportunity here.

"You are Delrin Barris, are you not?" the Sister continued, "I have heard of your exploits. Why are you in Orlais?" He was quite famous among the nobility, apparently. Some story about defeating demons on a mountaintop. Considering I could go do that twelve times a day before breakfast, I never was very impressed with such stories. I was privileged in that respect, I guess.

"Fifty Templars from Ferelden were moved here, they thought we'd be less sympathetic to the Orlesian mages," Delrin replied, "They were mostly right." His eyes tracked to the mages now being let out of the cages. They were full of sorrow. I knew then I couldn't just kill him, even if he wasn't useful. Besides, it would have been against my oath. Executing him would have required taking off the blue beret. I ordered Ciara to watch him, as my earpiece crackled to life.

"Marquis, all enemies eliminated," Soprano reported by radio. My heart lifted slightly. Victory was ours, but what I had found made me sick. It was little wonder that Armen was so determined, and I appreciated that with a new zeal.

"How many prisoners?" I asked, "Did you get the Knight-Captain?" I would have liked to send Denam to hell personally. After a trial, of course.

"No prisoners, they attempted to regroup and attack," she replied, almost proud of the fact, "Not sure if we killed anyone of rank, Marquis. My apologies." Inevitable really, given the nature of the fight. Her cheerful tone told me that no one had died on our side, at least not yet. Thankfully, Armen was on hand for healing purposes. If he could calm down for five minutes to produce the magical effect necessary.

"That's alright, Captain, you did as I commanded," I said with a sigh, "Bring the wounded to the Templars' quarters. We'll treat them there." There was to be no shortage of medical care required, as I would learn, but no one died. Something I considered a miracle in the most literal sense of the word.

"Looks like we won," Tam commented, slapping me on the shoulder, "Didn't think we would."

"Your vote of confidence is always appreciated," I replied sarcastically, "Let's get these mages fed. Go find the larders."

---

AUTHOR'S NOTE: BIG chapter. Well, we're really moving along now. I'll probably have to edit this slightly as I re-read it some more and catch more of the mistakes, but I really wanted to get this out before New Year's Eve. So I did.

Also, I've added yet another fiction to my repetoire, a Bioshock-Alien crossover. It'll be sporadically updated, the chapters are short and snappy, but I thought I should give it a little light. Shouldn't affect this at all, nor the BF2183 stories.

Enjoy.

Knives91: Leelu can handle it though.

5 Coloured Walker: I explained in a message, but just in case others didn't get it...

In the canon, the Divine is trying desperately to prevent the Mage-Templar conflict from turning into a full blown war in the aftermath of Kirkwall and DA2's events. The Libertarian faction, calling themselves the Rebellion in radical circles in this canon, have yet to win the vote among mages to separate. So, it figures that the Divine and the mages would cooperate to make sure the Templars wouldn't try to escalate things themselves and to protect mage lives.

Enter Sam. He sets off an alarm early, without any attempt by the Templars to actually annul the Circle at Halamshiral. This throws a wrench into the whole warning system, and ratchets up tensions with the Templars fourfold. The Divine, unsure what has happened, sends Leliana to investigate.

Leliana tracks down Armen, and he cooperates under duress, telling her the full story in the knowledge that she's not someone to fuck with. She doesn't believe him, he invites her to Hearth to meet Sam. Voila.

Drygen: Leha's a fairly important character. You'll see more of her.

Asahar: No problem lad.

Tactus501st: Cheers!

Comavampure: Leliana is one of my favourite characters, I'm glad you're of the opinion that I did her justice.

Writer's Block: That's the whole point. The Divine will be informed. It would be a bit ridiculous to expect Leliana to keep the secret. More threads to spin, you see.

Azariah Kyras: Thank you very much, spread the word.

I tend to gloss over stuff I think would be boring, or less relevant to the overall plot. Training montages for soldiers bore the head off of me, for instance, so we got to see less of Soprano and McNulty than I might like, but their prologues were sacrificed to the plot gods. They have plenty in the next chapter though, so no worries.

TLDR: Characters will get development as they get more relevant to the plot.