Chapter Thirty-Nine: Darkspawn

The next lesson that Thedas taught me is that fortune favours the bold.

Something that is often said, on Thedas as well as Earth, but not well understood. Yet it is certainly not heeded, especially by the masses. Well, the masses outside of our little corner of the world. By the time began our journey to Ferelden, we had learned the truth of the old saying already, but my confidence in it had been fatally damaged by our failure at Lydes. Julie's confidence in it had not been.

That no one was expecting us to travel by the Deep Roads is a given. Gaspard certainly didn't envisage it, he intended us to do battle with Celene's forces on our way out the door. Tiberius did too, albeit in a way that would minimise our exposure. The Kingdom of Ferelden itself would learn of our exile just about the time we exited the Deep Roads, and could conceive of only two ways an Orlesian invasion could arrive; by sea or by the mountain pass south of Jader. It would be a whole week before they knew there would be no geographic obstacle they could use as a wall to block us.

The reason no one expected us to come by the Deep Roads is simple. It is incredibly dangerous, perhaps the most hostile environment on Thedas save for the bottom of the oceans. There are any number of things that can kill, all of which we were prepared for by simple virtue of the fact that we didn't hate mages.

But there is one threat down there, under the ground, that only the brave and fortunate can face down. One unavoidable, sentient, lethal threat.

Darkspawn.

Tam, Julie and I slept naked until morning, cleaned ourselves up a little, and proceeded to ruin that effort by falling into the furs and making love again. We were going into the Underworld, perhaps even that very day, so of course we did. The potential and natural consequences were not something we were afraid of, though as I have said, they did not arise. This time.

So we snoozed for another hour, as similarly entangled as we were the night previous with the difference that Tam was now the body pillow instead of me. Until there was a drumbeat going up, sounding armed assembly. It was the most irritating thing in the world to me, lying there with my head on... never you mind.

We hadn't drank anything stronger watered down ale, pretty much the only thing you could drink other than water in those days without getting tipsy at the very least. Yet the drums sounded like a twenty one gun salute in my skull.

"Balls," I said, "Something's up..."

I rose slightly and opened my eyes, finding the tent as dark as you'd expect. The drums didn't go away. I wasn't imagining it.

Tam softly pulled me back down, tutting. "Ignore it," she said, "If it was serious, they would come get you..."

"If it was serious," Julie mumbled, barely opening a single eye, "We would be hearing cannon fire, not drums."

I hummed my agreement with that, brushing my hand down Julie's back under the blankets. For pointing out a perfectly good reason for me to stay put. She let out an appreciative noise, before seeming to drift away again. I felt my mind getting heavy too, and closed my eyes.

Just in time for a flash of bright white light to half-blind me, even through my eyelids.

I opened them to find Ciara standing by the entrance, a smile on her face. At first I thought it was at our expense, but she wasn't even looking at us at first. Of course, the smile did grow when she did finally look for us. No doubt a comment was forthcoming, so I pre-empted her.

"Morning, Ciara," I said evenly, "Have a good night?"

The Dalish huntress' eyes ran over us for a moment. "At least as good as yours," she replied cheerfully in her lyrical accent.

I closed my eyes again and held up my finger. "Ah ha!" I said, "You may have had a good night, but I'm sure we had a better morning."

The sounds of Ciara kicking off her boots and padding over to us provided a strange cover for the drumming that was divine relief, but she stopped moving again.

"What does she want," Julie mumbled.

"Don't care," Tam replied, "Just make her go away."

Ciara giggled. "You have an army to lead, you know?" she said, "What would they think if they could see you now?"

We didn't deem that worthy of a response, and I pulled the furs on top of us further up, trying to protect myself from both Ciara's wit and the drumming, which still hadn't stopped. I moved my head so I could listen to a far more pleasant beat, that of Tam's heart.

"Anyway," Ciara continued, "The generals didn't want you to be told, but the deserters are just about to leave."

I felt both of my lovers jerk awake at that, one following another.

I looked and saw that it was Julie that had caused the effect, with Tam moving only as she had. Julie's green eyes were wide. Ciara had her full attention now.

"Just about to leave?" she asked, "We haven't given them permission to do anything of the kind."

"Yet," Tam added.

I groaned. The insouciance of the deserters was grating my nerves, particularly as Markham's point about them abandoning civilians in a dire time of need had stirred in my mind overnight.

"Don't think they care," Ciara said, "They're about to march out now."

"Are they?" Julie said, her anger rising in her tone, "March out, you say. By the Maker, they better run!"

Julie rose, still naked as the day she was born, taking the fur that had been on top of us with her. The cold hit Tam and I hard, as we lost both the protection on our lower bodies and the body heat of a person from our upper. I rolled onto my back with a sigh, as Julie wrapped the fur around her like a Tevene toga. There wasn't quite enough bearskin material to cover her entirely, leaving one half of her upper body exposed, but she didn't seem to care. Neither did I.

With remarkable predictability, my mind turned to sex again. It provided her convenient cover to pick up the assault firelance propped up against the table and exit the tent, before my mind could put what I was seeing in context. She let out cry of shock from the outside. Ciara followed quickly, having been delayed in slipping her boots on again. Neither the cry nor what she might do with a god damned SA80 gave me happy thoughts. Or maybe I was feeling possessive. Either way, it wouldn't do.

"That's not good," I muttered, "Get dressed."

I jumped out of the fur-and-blanket pit in the middle of the tent, stepped into my pants and pulled them up post-haste. Tam got up without a word and did the same, as I pulled on a shirt and jacket.

The sound of shouting came through the tent flap, followed by the crack of a single shot echoing off the mountain. Julie wasn't wasting any time. I rushed, not tying my boots up, and out through the flaps.

First thing I noticed was that it had snowed during the night, not a huge amount but enough to stick. Certainly enough to bother Julie, who had exited barefoot without checking. That explained the cry as she left, I thought.

Julie was standing in front of what must have been all the deserters, except for Louise's chevaliers, and just as many loyal troops. Including most of the command staff. The former were fully armed and carrying their packs. Needless to say, they were all astonished to see her, bare-breasted and carrying a deadly weapon. A mostly-dressed Tam moved forwards, about to try to prevent her shooting again, when something extremely astonishing happened.

Our loyal troops averted their eyes, and made reverences to Julie. Some even knelt.

Very interesting.

"Go!" Julie shouted, "Now!"

The deserters snapped out of their staring, and began moving off.

Julie let off a three bullet burst into the air.

"I said run!" Julie roared.

They began moving off far more swiftly. I snorted, their obedience somehow absurd in the face of their betrayal. They filed their way towards the gates of the first ring of earthworks at a quick march. Julie balanced her firelance on one hip and put her free hand on the other, glaring at them as they passed.

"That's right," she muttered aloud, "Get out of my sight." She slung the firelance at last, noticing our presence.

"Feel better?" Tam asked. She threw down our lover's Earth boots.

Julie slipped them on, rubbing her hands together with her elbows firmly tucked in.

"Cold but much better, yes," she replied, "If I see these bastards again, I swear I shall have them killed."

I scratched my head, discovering that my hair was in need of cutting, and so was a complete mess. Yet Julie's was a little damp.

Realising that she wouldn't be saved by boots alone, I slipped my jacket off and put it around shoulders. I got a smile for my trouble, before the glare resumed its course towards the deserters. I'm not sure why that set me thinking about my next question, but it did.

"Why do you care?" I asked, "You seemed fine in the war council when we talked about this."

Julie bit her lip and looked up at me, almost sheepishly.

"Something occurred to me this morning," she said, "A third of women are with child, and it is certain that some of the children have fathers that are now abandoning them. To say nothing of abandoning their mothers too. Abandoning them to the Deep Roads, to the mercy of Ferelden, to the risk of founding a new nation. They're going to have to face it all alone."

"Which explains why you were frowning to yourself when I woke. You got angry," Tam said, "Understandable, but the mothers and their children are not alone. They have us."

Count on Tam to declare herself surrogate to hundreds, maybe even thousands. My desire to let the deserters go suddenly reversed itself. The wish to inflict violence on them burned my throat like bile, making me feel thirst, yet was softened by Tam's example of compassion.

"I hadn't thought of it that way.." I said, "Markham was right. If some of them are the fathers..."

"I think he thought of it that way from the beginning," Julie nodded, before looking at Tam and I.

"I think I needed to be with the people I love," she added, "Last night, I mean. And that made me think of my poor soldiers, left behind..."

Which is why Claire stayed for as long as she did, why she brought the children, and why we had spent most of the time afterwards either bringing each other pleasure or sleeping soundly in each other's arms. Or at least, the immediate reason. The latest brick in a wall of disasters, building ever higher.

The crunch of snow alerted me to the presence of McNulty and Soprano approaching from the side. They both stopped and saluted, and I saluted back.

"Marquis, Marquise, the deserters broke into the larders this morning," McNulty said, "Most had already gathered here while it was happening, so they could make a quick escape."

"Not very stealthy of them, considering our tents are here," Julie said, eyeing the last battalion as it rushed away. Assembling in front of us was probably their intent, daring us to try and stop them so that we'd be forced to discharge them earlier than we had planned.

"How much did they take?" I asked.

"Not enough to bother us," Soprano responded, "We always intended to issue them with rations to get south to Lord Clouet's fief. They took only slightly more than we were going to give them. They didn't take any horses either."

"Except for the ones the chevaliers took," McNulty complained.

"They were the property of the chevaliers to begin with," Soprano countered, "They did not desert either. Colonel de Villars issued their discharge papers and made Ser Belvédar regent of her lands. Not to mention, the women who wished to stay for... birthing reasons needed the help. The chevaliers offered their steeds."

Louise de Villar's old fief would become a sanctuary of sorts, albeit a temporary one with an Avvar problem. Chivalry wasn't dead among her vassals.

"So the chevaliers rode north already," I sighed, "I wish them all the luck in the world, I guess." I thought they would need it. They might not be in the direct path of any large armies, but les-Grandes-Collines were still in a country that was by then in a state of civil war.

"Lady Briala also left last night," Soprano said.

I shrugged. Apparently, Briala hadn't been able to convince many of the deserters to join her. I didn't think she was going to be able to in the first place, at least not that quickly. She hadn't proved herself yet.

"So be it," I said, "Call the war council in two hours... let's do what needs to be done and get the hell out of here."

"Yes, my lord," said McNulty and Soprano together.

They did not go off at once. Which was strange. Usually, they'd be making their way without delay to carry out my orders. I raised an eyebrow in inquiry. Soprano made no sign, but McNulty flinched ever so slightly.

The last deserter finally exited the outer gate and out of sight, and Julie bolted, stalking off towards our tent once more, trying to keep my jacket and the fur around her. Tam followed, and I watched them until they entered, waiting for my chance to speak to the McNulty and Soprano. Ciara briefly stopped me by making a reappearance with some more salted pork, but as soon as I had some, I rounded on them.

"Is there something you two need to say?" I asked the two hovering generals.

"Yes, my lord," Soprano said flatly, "Your... wife commands now. Your mistress has set us on the new path... We wanted you to know that our first loyalty is and always will be with you."

"And not her," McNulty added. Reluctantly, as far as McNulty ever did reluctance.

I shook my head, utterly flabbergasted. They made it seem like there was a conflict between my lovers and I. An obscenity really. What divisions we had up until that point were thoroughly healed. More importantly, it was entirely out of character for the two officers to speak openly about such matters to me. They knew that the principle Julie, Tam and I believed in about how to run things was the same. Or at least, it was supposed to be. I was a little pissed off about it, until my train of thought was interrupted.

"Should I leave you alone?" Ciara asked quietly, "If you think I'd be in the way..."

That cheered me up again. I brought her into a quick hug, lifting her off her feet. Ciara let out a little surprised shriek, as I had a good chuckle.

"You're always welcome," I replied at last, "Don't forget that. But that you cared enough to ask is encouraging."

Ciara looked up at me in confusion, not quite understanding me. Regardless, she had saved me from saying something I might regret.

"Generals... I don't think I get what you're saying," I said, "Why should I wonder where your loyalties are?"

"You shouldn't" McNulty replied quickly, "That's what we wanted to say... because... well..."

"Because the respect of the civilians for your wife is turning into worship," Soprano interrupted, her tone as cool as the ice under our feet, "Your mistress too is the subject of much praise. Some of us have become... concerned."

Now we were in the Twilight Zone, as far as what my perception of things went.

"Concerned about what?" I asked.

"That she has begun to enjoy power," Soprano said, "That she has forgotten the ideals for which we fought, and that the Assembly's treacherous surrender has damaged her confidence in the people to make responsible decisions."

My eyes widened to the point that they began watering in the cold.

"You think she's going to seize power permanently," I said, "You think she had Tam propose the idea to create a new realm so that she could rule alone."

"And we know you would never let such a thing come to pass," Soprano said, "The ideals we fought for are truly yours, you were raised with them, you cannot disrespect them." That was a very optimistic view generally, respect for democracy was at an all time low in America when I had left, but it was true of me.

"Like Mother Brandon said, after the murders," McNulty added, reluctantly, "We want rule of the people, by the people, for the people. One nation under the Maker. We think you're the one who can give us it. The only one."

Of course the two generals were worried. The project of rule by the people had just been delivered a hammer blow. All it would take to snuff it out would be a call for unity around the one figure who everyone agreed was most capable of ruling; Julie herself. Our relationship with Tam, the saviour of the cause, only strengthened the narrative of divinely-sent messiahs.

The undertone that maybe I should be the one to seize power was more than a little unsettling too.

"Look, you're being... insane," I said, "She blamed herself as much as anyone else for the surrender, and Tam really did come up with the idea."

"Insane is too soft a word," Ciara bristled, "Julie is not some noble, plotting the best way to gain power for herself. She's a blacksmith's daughter at heart, not a scheming aristo. You ought to be ashamed of thinking anything else."

I grinned at Ciara for her input. Succinct and pinpoint accurate.

"You've heard the way people speak about her already," Soprano said to Ciara, "If she wanted a crown, she could have one."

"But she doesn't want one, so it doesn't matter," I said, "We've discussed what she wants to do, once we have final victory. Ruling isn't it, at least as long as we have the freedom we're fighting for. Besides, I have just as much respect among the people as Julie does. It's not like she could do anything without my open support."

Both of them seemed to accept that, glancing at each other. I had just pretty much said that I would stop Julie becoming a dictator, without outright saying so. With their fears assuaged, they saluted once more. McNulty immediately paced away to put out the order for another war council. Soprano lingered for a moment, adding a small bow to me. She approved of my promise. She would hold me to it. That was the message.

Ciara and I regarded them as the two generals' subordinates joined them, walking towards the still-ruined gatehouse of the old walls.

"If she did want to rule," Ciara asked, "Would you stop her? Could you stop her? She's very... determined, when she gets an idea in her head."

"You don't have to tell me," I laughed, my mind reaching back to the moment in the foxhole on the hill.

Once my lustful thoughts subsided a little, I considered the question a little more seriously for a moment. The great irony was that Julie's confidence in the people hadn't been shaken an inch by the surrender, but mine had been greatly. The ideas held about society among the peasantry were just too... primitive. Most of those born outside Hearth were illiterate, and it was only through military and religious indoctrination that the likes of Soprano and McNulty were so insistent on ruling themselves.

Most people only ever want a fair ruler. My lovers would be fair rulers.

Besides that, Julie held my heart in her hand, and Tam would back her regardless. All it would take was a single squeeze to get me to fall into line, unless she broke it in some manner. But I could hardly tell Ciara exactly what I would do. It seemed like an impossibility to begin with, but as with many impossible things, Julie could very well defy the odds.

"I don't know, actually," I said honestly, "I guess I would do what I could..."

Ciara tilted her head, not thinking much of that answer.

A cry from the sky had us both looking up. The eagles were there, circling. One silver headed, one fully golden-brown. Fucking ominous.

It took three days to organise our army for the journey through the Deep Roads, by which time our outriders had spotted a force of about five hundred Templars coming in on foot towards us. Luckily, they weren't mounted, so we were able to set out before they got anywhere near the Wolf's Lair. They would not suspect we escaped the way we did any more than King Alistair and Queen Anora would.

From front to back, the column was organised to protect the essential groups of wagons and people, all tuned to the same time via the synchronised watches I handed out to each section commander. Children, cannon, ammunition and food stores, and the pregnant women.

The first troops in were Soprano's Rangers, bolstered in number to a thousand strong and entirely made up of firelancers. With them went the Isolationist mages to point the way, burn away the filth in our path, and to seal off side tunnels as they moved. Following directly behind were the Aequitarian and their knight-enchanters and Tranquil gunners with three light cannons. Together, I was sure that all four could break through any darkspawn barricade.

Behind the speartip element was most of the melee infantry under Mike, carrying as much as they could on their backs, clearing obstacles, and acting as a reserve for the forward troops if things got worse than even I could imagine. Their main job wasn't to fight, but to transport the various things we didn't have space in a wagon for. Leha's accounts ledgers were carried by a sergeant of the 7th Infantry that she was screwing, for instance. Think she still screws him from time to time, actually.

The largest single part came next, making up the middle of our column: the civilians. Most of the wagons and almost all of the horses were put into this part too. Anyone not formally under arms was assigned here, and where this section stood was always to be our rally point.

The civvie section was under Louise de Villars' command, and it was perhaps the best protected of all. Three thousand firelancers, including the thousand or so that were with child, Markhams' Knights-Hospitaller, Barris' Templars, the Lucrosian mages, and most of the Tranquil artillery batteries. The Jaderites also armed themselves, though we considered them civvies for our purposes. More on that later.

At the rear of the column were McNulty's Grenadiers, also boosted to a thousand strong by the inclusion of the remaining firelancers and a three-gun battery of light cannon. The Libertarian mages under Armen gave the rearguard all the magic we would need, and I myself positioned myself with them. My companions with me.

Our job was to hold the darkspawn back at all costs, because our army could not withdraw. It could only move forwards. That was why most of our troops were concentrated forwards. We needed to advance, or we would die. Orzammar, around which the bulk of darkspawn would be concentrated, was to the north, at our backs.

Some people, knowing the story but not knowing the specifics, are critical of me for not 'boldly leading the way' and other things along that line. I don't enjoy being accused of cowardice for taking the most dangerous position, apparently a popular subject for propagandists against our enterprise.

Don't fight with "honour" and you earn stupid remarks from those who don't really know what war is.

As a result of this arrangement, I was one of the last of our little nation to see the Deep Roads. I said goodbye to our two eagles, and entered the mines.

I was expecting a series of interconnected caverns, joined by worked tunnels. What I saw instead was far more magnificent. It was not so much a cave but a cathedral, albeit one in disrepair, stretching forwards for miles.

Although the natural, unfinished rock leaked through in places, I could not help but feel like the whole thing was engineered. It was easily as wide in some places as the Imperial Highway had been between Halamshiral and Lydes. Pretty much everyone had the same, gawping reaction to it, except for Leha of course.

The ghosts of the Dwarva Empire would no doubt appreciate our awe.

It took us most of the first day to get the army into the mines and seal the enchanted doors behind us again, but we spent the remaining time on the march. We only got to rest after ten hours, including four of moving uphill in the Deep Roads, defying their very name. The architecture of the place got even more impressive, as we appeared to have travelled to some sort of upper gallery, nestled nearer the peaks of the mountains.

There were even openings in the rock, long but too narrow for a person to crawl through, leading to huge drops. The snows were in full swing this far up, and it blew in with the chill wind. In the end, we covered the gaps up so we wouldn't need to waste valuable wood on extra fires.

As ordered, the march at the front ended at 1900 hours and the rest of the army caught up with the forward elements by 1930. There was no sign of darkspawn, very little taint to worry about, and we all slept soundly.

Well, the humans. The pack animals and horses weren't best pleased to be underground, but we had enough mages to calm the worst of them. Bellona was a rock, of course, not bothered by the lack of sky and the darkness that came with it. Revas, easily the most intelligent of our mounts, was much more distraught. Fritz only seemed to be bothered if there was no artificial light nearby, like most of our travellers. I thought it noteworthy that even horses knew that the dark wasn't to be trusted. Especially in that place.

The Upper Gallery, as we took to calling it, was to be our route for the next three days, the last day to be spent descending once more.

The second day was very easy going. The freezing mountain air leaking in through the slit windows had kept the taint at bay, and we were ahead of schedule according to the report Soprano radioed to me that evening. Even better, the evidence that a huge clearing operation had taken place on this route beforehand was everywhere; fallen stalactites lay stacked to the sides.

Piles of bones of some small creatures were also commonplace, which Armen reliably informed me were deepstalker remains. Which led to a quip that Leha was a deepstalker, a scavenger looking for her meat. She moved closer, opened her mouth and snapped her jaw shut at him. They had a good laugh afterwards. We'd discover the reason why Leha didn't take the whole thing as an insult soon afterwards.

The good times could not last long, however. The acoustics of a mountain hall are not amenable to stealth. The sound of thirty thousand people and thousands of horses on the move was utterly impossible to cover, and that night after the halt, it was our turn to hear the echoes of moving feet in the deeps.

We slept a whole lot less that night, let me tell you.

The third day, our second in the Upper Gallery, saw a much more energetic pace set. We beat our previous day's distance by a quarter at least, though we were utterly exhausted by the end. Worse, we had reached the end of the sections with ventilation, and our pace for the next day was guaranteed to slow due to the necessity of purging the Taint from our route with magical fire.

Even before Mike had me fetched, the night was not full of good omens and there were worse ones to come.

The side passage I had been summoned to was in Mike's own section, so it took me a good while to get down there. Particularly as the only light we had now was torches or the glow of magic. It was fairly easy to find the place once I had a clear line of sight though, as it was guarded rather than blocked off with debris. That certainly got my attention, because it was in direct contravention to the orders I had given. I picked up the pace, eager to discover why my orders hadn't been followed.

It didn't take long for the booming voice of Mike herself to make itself felt, joined by Grand-Cleric Brandon's haughty timbre as I got closer. I entered, saluting the guards as I passed. It was a small room, and from the look of it, it was some sort of guardhouse or supply post. There were tables, chairs, the remains of bed frames, and the whole room glowing red-orange from the glowstones in the wall. There seemed to be corpses too, mostly bones dressed in rags really.

As for occupants, they consisted of Soprano, looking surly, Mike, looking frustrated, and Brandon, looking dismissive. All three relaxed as they noticed me, trying to hide their conflict as if I were their father and they were fighting over a toy.

"Ah, Marquis," Brandon said, beating my generals to the punch, "I'm glad you're here. You need to stop your officers from spreading foul rumours."

I smiled at her, borrowing from Julie's book of politics rather than Tam's for the moment. The priestess relaxed a little, as planned.

"I can see that," I said, "Now, that's the trouble?"

"My lord, we've found something," Mike started.

"Don't go filling his head with nonsense!" Brandon interrupted, "What you're saying is impossible."

"You don't know that," Mike snapped, "I don't know it either. Just let him look and he'll tell us."

The two squared off, robe almost touching uniform. It was almost funny, considering they were both small women. Albeit with big personalities. Not wanting to step into the explosive space between them, I turned to Soprano.

"What's this about?" I asked. Brandon made a noise to interrupt again, but I held up my hand and shot her a look that told her she was about to cross a line. Her mouth snapped shut again. Tam's stern doctrine on dispute resolution was just as useful, as you can see.

"My soldiers found something when we arrived," Soprano said, "An unusual set of bodies."

"Those ones?" I said, pointing at the bones.

"Yes, my lord," Soprano said.

I glanced at Brandon. "What's your objection?" I asked, "Don't want me disturbing the dead?"

"That is a consideration," Brandon conceded, "But more offensive is the theory that..."

"Stop right there," Mike interrupted, "Let him see them without knowing what I said."

"You just want to test your theory," Brandon complained.

The whole congo-line of argument and interruption that had begun its dance towards me finally broke my patience. I cleared my throat loudly. Mike stood up parade-ground straight at once, respectful of rank and military order as she always was. Brandon grumbled to herself, which was a bit unseemly on a woman who was the same age I was.

"I'll decide what is interesting to me," I stated firmly, "If you don't mind."

"Not at all, my lord," Mike said, her tone victorious. Brandon remained quiet, taking to watching me carefully instead.

With the expectations of my generals and our highest religious leader hanging on my shoulders, I wandered over to the bodies.

There were six or seven of them, clustered in one corner behind what had to have been bed frames. From the way it was arranged, it seemed like they had barred the door and used the beds as a final barrier. Whatever they had been fighting hadn't got in, I saw no bodies that were dressed differently. All of them were wearing a tabard over some armour, some of them in chainmail as far as I could tell from the rust. Nothing strange about them at all.

"What's so unusual about..." I said, before stopping dead. I realised that I recognised the sigils on the tabards.

Three golden lions on a red field, each holding a paw up, their heads turned towards the viewer with their mouths open. Quite obviously lions too, no way to confuse them with the mabari of the Theirins of Ferelden, though I had yet to see their banners. No wonder Soprano and Mike had found it noteworthy. The sigil was displayed in at least one of the history books in our Earth collection, which they had access to after the Templar assault on L'Ambassade.

"See, nothing unusual at all," Brandon said, "Just some poor souls, lost in the Deep Roads."

A strange dread fell over me like a veil over my eyes, making it seem darker. I was compelled to kneel down beside the bones and examine the bodies more closely. One of them was smaller than the others, it had to have been a boy or a young teenager. What was left of their swords matched my limited knowledge too.

I stood up again, rubbing the bridge of my nose as I thought.

"They're from Earth," I said, turning back to the living in the room, "England, to be exact. I'd recognise the three lions anywhere." Having no small amount of English heritage myself.

Brandon dropped into a coughing fit of outrage, denying the possibility outright.

"I knew it," Mike grinned, "As soon as Lydia showed me, I knew."

"I was not so sure myself," Soprano sniffed, crossing her arms and leaning over to look at the bodies a little closer.

"It's impossible!" Brandon declared, "If the Maker brought you, how could he bring these people here too? And to this fate?"

I frowned, not sure how to answer that myself. The process of how the Outlander Phenomenon began was known to me, but its exact workings were a mystery. If anything, the dead men were soldiers from eight hundred years ago or so, but their belongings and clothing hadn't rotted away.

That was a contradiction to the timeline established by Tiberius' ancestor, as well as that of Keijiro Okuba and myself. Tiberius came two thousand years previously, which fit with how long ago he would have lived when I left. Similarly, Keijiro Okuba came seventy odd years ago, which was when his country was at war with mine. All of our arrivals suggested that time moved in the same way on both worlds, yet this discovery said otherwise. Regardless of what was responsible, time was bent in some instances and not others.

As for Brandon, I decided to tell her the truth as far as I thought it wouldn't harm our cause. After all, I still couldn't deny divine intervention on the matter. I simply didn't know.

"I was far from the first person brought to Thedas, Grand-Cleric," I said, "The Tevinter informed me that there have been many... and that even his ancestor was someone like me, dragged to this world."

Brandon's face lost its colour instantly, the milk-white of her skin seeming to glow more orange from the unnatural light. I knew that revealing that piece of truth would send her hopping. I had a ready riposte.

"But do you know what that man's first act was?" I continued, placing my hands on her shoulders, "Putting blood mages to the sword for daring to try to breach the Fade. We are here for a reason."

Or more accurately, Tiberius Primus put the blood mages to the sword for practising sorcery at all. If Aurelia is to be believed.

The Grand-Cleric's seemed caught between her feelings, but finally managed to speak.

"What about these ones?" she asked, "What possible purpose could they have served, dying here?"

Her faith that I was sent by the Maker was wavering, but had not fallen. Ideally, I would have liked to break it... but I could hear Julie's whisper in my ear already.

'Think of the politics' she would have said, if she had come along. She had opted to go to sleep, and I didn't think I had the luxury to do something so obviously damaging to our cause without her consent. As for Tam, before she had set us on this path, she probably would have preferred to break the idea too, given the notion of some that she was unworthy to be around me. That notion had been destroyed by her contribution and the desertion of doubters. Her stake in it had been too.

"Perhaps they killed a dangerous darkspawn," I said with a shrug, "Or undid some darkspawn magic. We can't know. We weren't here when they died. All I know is that the events I have lived through seem to have happened for a reason. I think, you would agree?"

Brandon gave a single nod. "Through inspiring Julie Marteau and facing the wrath of mages," she said, "You have shown the world its corruption and decadence."

Remembering the conversation from before, I raised an eyebrow at Soprano. 'Through inspiring Julie Marteau' the cleric had said. The generals looked back, Soprano's face screaming "I told you so" at me. I tilted my head, conceding their concerns had some merit beyond that I had already thought of.

"Our worlds have the same Maker," I said, "It's the only explanation for why people from mine end up here."

"It is," Brandon said, "But this development will raise doubts."

"Then I'll order the mages to try and kill me again," I said, flippantly. The Grand-Cleric actually smirked at that. She had a sense of humour after all. Who knew.

I turned once more to Soprano.

"Get Markham up here," I ordered, "I want examinations of these bodies, I want to know how they died, and I want them transported with us out of this place."

"For what purpose?" Soprano asked.

"Curiosity," I replied, moving to leave, "And they deserve a proper burial."

"A burial?" Brandon asked in confusion, "Surely they should be burned?"

I stopped at the doorway and smiled back at her.

"We are Outlanders, Grand-Cleric, immune to all inference by Fade creatures," I said, "Our bodies cannot be possessed. These men would have wanted burial. If I die, you can burn me, I have embraced Andraste. These men have not. We'll respect that they follow my old faith.."

Or a type of it, at any rate. Truth be told, I didn't know what to believe and that has only gotten worse over the years as a result of... disturbing developments, but I knew one thing. Cremation was off the table for the dead men in that room.

With that, I exited, avoiding any further complaint by the priestess, and began the long walk back to my sleeping bag.

I told a sleepy Julie and a slightly more awake Tam about the discovery and what I had done about it, but all of us were too tired for speaking or anything else. We turned in for the night, knowing we'd have bigger fish to fry than the dead men from another world.

The darkspawn showed themselves throughout the next day without relent.

At first, they tried to force the sealed side passages, pushing the debris the Isolationists had used to block them out into the road. I felt the now-familiar creep of dread inch up my back at the news.

Fortunately for us, that was quite possibly the least effective means they could have attacked us, and their attempt to be cunning cost them dearly. The first attacks came out against Mike's troops, and the diminutive she-elf lost no time in impaling hundreds of the things on the wall of pikes that met each breach. That close quarters action would have consequences for later, but for the moment, we had won.

By sheer luck, the darkspawn discovered the location of the civilian section, with its greater proportion of women and children. The monsters couldn't help themselves. They were drawn to the women in particular, unable to override their instinct to gather females for transformation into broodmothers. A ghastly particular I did not know at the time, even if I did know they kidnapped women.

Regardless, the darkspawn did even more poorly against Blondie's firelancers and chevaliers. They didn't even get close to the wagons or sleds, the Colonel simply waited until the debris in each side tunnel was cleared and ordered a fusillade, followed by collapsing the side tunnels completely.

News of these assaults came back to me at once via radio, and by noon, there was a decided swagger in my step. My initial fears had been pushed away by the continual reports of darkspawn failures to breach our moving perimeter. I was beginning to think that they were just like any other of the threats so feared by the people of Thedas; hyped, due to the lack of technological progress or solid military thinking.

So I walked along with Armen and Leha, behind Julie, Tam and Ciara, dirty smirk plastered to my face out of arrogance. I even had time for yet more lust. Julie was in her Earth-uniform. Tam was in her black Qunari clothing. Both fit the forms of the ladies nicely, as always.

Soon, I noticed that Armen was enjoying the view as well. Ciara was dressed in her huntress leathers, after all. The all-too-familiar grin was on his face, illuminated by the light of his staff. It wasn't long before he noticed that I had noticed.

I held out my hand for a low-five. Armen duly slapped it. We both broke out laughing. Dogs that we are.

Our fair ladies turned around in confusion, briefly, before continuing on their way. If they had discovered that they were the subject of our mutual understanding, they made no show of it. Women do tend to be more mature about such matters, though I'm not sure if it's by nature or nurture.

Leha, on the other hand, was not so forgiving. A loud groan of weariness erupted from my left, where she was walking. She hefted her crossbow onto her shoulder, freeing up another hand to rub the frustration from her face.

"Ugh, I need vodka," she said lowly, "And a boy to roll around with."

"Are we that offensive?" Armen asked, his grin going nowhere.

"You are nauseating," Leha quipped, before eyeing me, "That's my friend, by the way, don't think I won't tell her what you're thinking." Referring to me ogling Julie.

I had a good scoff. What a meaningless threat.

"She knows," I said, "She can hear us. Maybe you need to consider relaxing a little, cutting loose."

"Bit hard to cut loose when you've lost everything," Leha sighed, "Worse, this time I can't just sit about, drinking my troubles away. My gold farm, finished, my sanctuary, taken away from me, and I'm stuck marching about the Deep Roads. Working, no less! It's a tragedy."

"Our happiness irritates you?" Armen asked playfully, "Why am I not surprised?"

"Your distraction irritates me," Leha said, "Everyone else might think it's wonderful, but your public infatuations are irresponsible. You should be thinking of the threats right now and been seen to be taking them seriously. We're in the middle of darkspawn infested tunnels, and you're too busy being adolescent!"

A drunken lecher she might have been, but the dwarf was very serious about her work. Whether getting two coins to make a third, or as quartermaster for an army of refugees.

"Leha..." Julie warned softly from ahead, "Easy..."

"I will go easy when they get their act together," Leha shot back, "Orzammar has been under siege for centuries... what does that tell you about the depth of shit we're in right now?"

"I'd say we're only ankle deep," I retorted, "They keep trying, and we keep sending them to hell."

"They'll try harder," Leha said, "While you're busy thinking with something other than your head."

Annoyed that she assumed I wasn't doing my job for taking a moment of bliss, I rounded on her.

"I know exactly what I'm doing," I said, stabbing a finger, "They've failed to slow us down, and we've started collapsing the side sections entirely now. The next time they attack, they'll attempt to block off the front while attacking from the rear. They'll try and trap us."

It's what I would do, certainly. Of course, I didn't reckon with the mindlessness of the darkspawn. In truth, they simply attacked down the path of least resistance. And unfortunately, over the course of their previous attacks, they had discovered it through trial and error.

"But it won't work," I concluded, resuming my march, "Because we've got weapons and tactics those things have never seen before, and I know how to use 'em. So quit your whining."

Seconds after I finished speaking, staring down Leha angrily, the steady rumble of our march forward was interrupted by the far-off crack of firelances in the distance. Not to the front, where the sounds had echoed from before, but behind.

I looked back down the way we had come, ignoring the argument that had stopped me in the first place. A more rapid rumbling grew from the darkness beyond our torchlight. The sound of a quickmarch of armoured men. I couldn't see very far in the dark, but we had just made our way around a large leftward curve too. I immediately flicked my radio on.

"McNulty, report," I said into my mouthpiece, "How many?"

The general was further back in the column, with the cannons near the very rear.

There was static for a moment, which put me on edge a little. A flicker of light shining off the wet stone of the walls told me that my general had ordered a mage to send an illumination flare down towards the enemy.

"Not sure," McNulty responded gruffly, "Hundreds, thousands? Our pickets shot a couple of the scouts, and a volley of arrows came back in return."

I cursed under my breath. If they were coming from the rear in their thousands, they were coming from the perimeter around Orzammar. Another darkspawn trait... they don't tire easily. No doubt stragglers heard us moving about, and the hordes decided we were too good a thing to pass up on attacking. And in the dark, they could march almost all day to catch up with us.

"Withdraw around the corner," I said, "We'll hold them here."

"Yes, my lord," said McNulty, before shouting orders at his subordinates, his radio still active.

"Do you require reinforcements?" Mike asked, "I can send some back, if required."

"My chevaliers are closer," Louise pointed out.

Leaving either the frontal push or the civilian section stripped of troops they might need later wasn't something I was about to order. Besides, it would bring the entire column to a halt. They needed to keep moving, above all else.

"No, don't do anything," I said, "Keep moving until the designated hour to stop. We will catch up with you tonight."

"You're going to stay behind?!" Soprano exclaimed, "But if you die, then..."

"Tevinter won't help," I completed, "I know. We won't be anywhere if the darkspawn catch us, and I cannot ask my soldiers to face them while I hide."

Truth be told, I think Tiberius probably would have let our people use his fleet if he was told I had died in the Deep Roads. He wasn't spiteful, even if he was powerhungry, and if he had paid for a fleet, it would only be spite motivating him to refuse the refugees.

"Understood, my lord," Mike said at once, "We will keep moving as ordered."

With that, there was silence over the comms.

Having decided we would make our stand, I inspected the area. It was well suited to the job. More narrow, the curve preventing the darkspawn from getting a good fix on our numbers until they were in our sights, and there was no shortage of fallen columns for cover. I was soon confident we could hold the monsters off with as little trouble as before.

An effect boosted as I spied the Tranquil hauling our three cannons into position, to either side of one of the remaining upright columns in the middle of the road, two where the curve let them shoot down the way the darkspawn were coming, the third in a defilade. I hadn't given that order, and curiously, neither had McNulty. The Tranquil gunners themselves had worked out what they believed would work best.

I thought to myself that it was curious. The Tranquil weren't supposed to have initiative in that way.

No time to ponder it though. The movement of our soldiers forming ranks in front drew me, moving my attentions to the fight to come. The road was about a hundred feet wide, once you took into account the rock and debris that had been cleared to either side of it. That was the broadest part of the Deep Roads we'd see. Whether or not that was a good thing, I couldn't tell, but it did mean crowding.

We had a made a wall of bodies and steel across the space on both sides of the cannon position. The seven hundred firelancers were divided into three relay companies, so that we'd be firing continuously. The Grenadiers were to stand ready in reserve, for when the darkspawn got close enough for the potato-masher grenades. McNulty was organising the throng of people admirably, not raising his voice but using runners to direct things. The mages were milling about at the back. Their job was different, this time.

I turned to my companions. "We're going up front," I informed them.

All but Tam saw a pall go over their faces. They understood what I was trying to do; give no impression that I was leading from the rear against a foe with the most terrible reputation possible. But they knew it was extremely risky. The darkspawn did have archers, after all. And unlike in the cramped side tunnels, they'd be able to use them under the high-vaulted ceilings of the Upper Gallery.

Tam on the other hand seemed to relish the opportunity.

"Naturally," she replied, her vicious grin taking hold.

I raised an eyebrow. "Why are you smiling?" I asked.

Tam laughed, and delivered a kiss to my forehead.

"The Arishok's tales of his time in Ferelden," she replied, "It was the greatest honour of his life to defend the Qun in the way he did. The darkspawn would destroy the world and everything good about it. And now I have that honour too."

"We're not the Qun," Julie frowned.

"No, but you are my family," Tam replied, palming her black longbow, "And these are my people."

Ciara smiled warmly up at my Qunari lover, and brought her own recurve bow. Leha drew her sword and a kite shield. Armen flipped his staff off of his back, the spear-tip sparking with electricity. Julie took the firelance hanging off the front of her into her hands, and cocked the bolt.

"Well then," I said, "Follow me."

I moved behind the line, past the cannons, to the wall on the left side, where there was a series of smaller collapsed columns that would do nicely. I placed my foot on the first splintered stone, found it didn't move under my weight, and climbed atop the rest. This let me see over the heads of the soldiers below and down the tunnel. Even now, I could see our last pickets running towards us, and the subtle movement in the dark beyond. The darkspawn didn't have much use for torches, I thought, or they were waiting to ignite them when they got closer.

I activated my radio again.

"Bayonets," I said.

"BAYONETS!" McNulty roared, followed by his lieutenants and the sergeants in turn. The firelancers followed the order, snapping on the silverite blades to their barrels. I felt a little sad that we weren't going to have such fine weapons in great numbers any longer, as we had lost the huge silverite mines to our enemy. It was tempered by the knowledge that we'd probably put the bayonet out of use inside a couple of years anyway.

I looked down the tunnel again. The movement in the dark had taken on more corporeal form, and the movement of their feet was getting louder... but more interesting was the smell. It was repugnant, and unlike anything that had ever graced my nose before. Thankfully, it wasn't strong.

"Slow matches," I said.

McNulty spoke to a mage standing nearby, and at once, his Grenadiers' slowmatches were lit. Not exactly a huge innovation, just old bits of rope soaking in slow burning substances, but it meant there wouldn't be any delay in lighting the fuses of the grenades. Have to say it added to the menace of the large men and women, as it cloaked them in smoke and they glowed red. The acrid smell covered the darkspawn stench wonderfully too.

The scouts made it back, panting and gasping for air, the Tranquil stepping away from their cannons to let them pass. I gave them a wave of thanks. They had drawn the short straws and ended up unlucky, it was the least I could do. Some waved back.

"Barriers," I said.

"BARRIERS!" went the shout.

Armen's Libertarians, spread out as they were, lifted their staves and glowed blue. Throughout the ranks of soldiers, Tranquil, even the cannons, a soft barely-visible blue aura covered all surfaces. My companions too, for that matter. As expected, the magic around me shattered instantly and glass-like particles of irreality sped away. It didn't bother me much. I could just duck if I needed protection. My soldiers on the other hand had a fighting chance if things did get messy.

The grunting and growling of the darkspawn was audible now, adding to the rumble of their feet. I almost hesitated to give the next, necessary order.

"Illumination," I said.

Armen, and certain members of his fraternity, immediately spun their staves over their heads, and a collection of weak white lights burst forth, racing forwards and up into the ceiling ahead of us. Our eyes couldn't have handled the change in conditions for anything brighter, not after days underground, and we needed every shot to count. The orbs sped up and hovered near the ceiling. Right above the darkspawn.

I got my first look at them down my firelance's sights, and I wasn't disappointed.

The stories were dead true about their appearance, and supported the rumours of their capabilities. Most were surprisingly small in stature, about the same size as a dwarf perhaps, but built like a brick shithouse, with arms that looked like their could bend steel railway, all carrying bows and swords. With them were larger specimens, some standing upright and shoulders back, others huddled over, darting around, all looking like they would tear a man limb-from-limb. Further back, there were larger forms... even floating forms, which confirmed that they did have mages.

Genlocks, hurlocks and shrieks.

What I remember most is their faces. Pale, sickly skin with black lines tracing their veins, mouths more like maws than anything you'd see on a sentient creature, black eyes peering out through masks or out from under helmets of crude metal.

"Leha," I said, lowering my weapon, "Your people have been fighting that for centuries? Hand-to-hand?"

"Losing," Leha replied, displeased that it was the truth, "But yes."

"Impressive," I said.

Nothing quite like darkspawn charging at you to create a sense of respect for the capabilities of the dwarva. Of course, when they're charging a gunline, it also creates a sense of disrespect for the intellect of the darkspawn themselves.

I stood up and shouldered my firelance. "OPEN FIRE!" I shouted.

A firestorm flowed forth down the tunnel, one made of flying lead, burning wisps of cartridge paper and white smoke.

I have fought many enemies that have charged forward recklessly into the hail of our new weapons, but none did it with such abandon, such disregard for their own lives, as the darkspawn did.

For a full half hour, they came on, waves of stinking, pale flesh and rusted iron. Our scouts' estimates had been way off, there had to be at least ten thousand, albeit coming at us down a narrow path. Human enemies always seemed to come at us like they were in a rain storm, shoulders huddled and back hunched, making their target profile as small as possible. What the Deep Roads witnessed that day was thousands of creatures moving with no fear whatsoever.

Volley after volley rippled into the undisciplined mass of darkspawn, tearing down two ranks at a time. The cannons were even more deadly, two firing lead bolts through dozens, the third firing grapeshot on the four separate occasions that the darkspawn got close enough to use their bows. Soon, the curve in the road was a roiling mass of ichor and meat, the living kicking or pushing the dead to the sides of the tunnel, which further bottlenecked them into our gunsights. Lucky us, as we would have had no reprieve or ammunition if the corpses hadn't occasionally stopped the horde's advance.

Fish in a friggin' barrel doesn't even begin to explain it. I hadn't even fired a shot.

The sheer killing that the first volley had done showed me that there had been no need. It wasn't our lethality that looked to be a problem. The Deep Roads aren't exactly ventilated, and blackpowder creates a huge amount of smoke. The more we fired, the harder it was to breath without coughing your lungs up. Worse, the smoke drifted towards the darkspawn, probably because of the slit windows in the direction we had come from, obscuring them just enough that they did manage to get off a few arrows.

The smoke was also slowing down our rate of fire. When a whole army coughs, it's almost as loud as a volley. I had thought of many solutions to potential problems before we had come, but I hadn't thought of this one. Still, it wasn't like it was a dire issue.

"Armen, can you get your people to start handing out cloth?" I said, perched on the fallen columns, "Give them out to the troops coming in after their relay, to cover their noses and mouths."

The mage disappeared from his position nearby and down into the smoke. It seemed to pool below us, like a river. The area where our troops were moving about and firing almost looked like the rapids, as each platoon and company moved, churning the smoke up and adding to it.

To me, it was the River Styx itself. Which set me humming the tune of Renegade, and even considering breaking out the speakers. That it might drown out the nasty noise of the meat harvest in front of us, being my intention. I turned to Julie to suggest it, and found her eyes glued to the carnage through my IRNV goggles. In fact, all of my companions were under the same spell, their mouths agape. That set off alarm bells.

I clicked my fingers a couple of times to get their attention. "Hey, I know it's not a picture," I said, "But looking at it too closely isn't healthy. Trust me."

Heads tilted in confusion. "Horrible?" Leha said, curious, "What?"

"He doesn't understand," Julie smiled, taking the goggles off.

"Tell him," Ciara said.

I frowned. "Tell me what?" I asked.

Tam moved beside me, taking my face in her hands. "This is not horrible," she said, "It's wonderous." With that said, she planted a kiss on my nose.

"Wonderous?" I said, incredulous. I glanced back at the screeching, moaning pile of corpses about a hundred and fifty yards off.

"What else could it be," Julie said, before pointing at the advancing horde, "That is the ancient enemy of every living person on Thedas. And look what we're doing to them."

I did so, considering for the first time what it would look like to a Thedosian. Five Blights, all of which cost thousands of lives at the very best, millions at the worst. Four Holocausts, and an attempted one. Men and children mindlessly butchered, women kidnapped...

My heart lifted at the thought of our killing, because it meant that the darkspawn could no longer roll over the armies of the living. I had only thought of my weapons as a means for men to kill one another, but I realised right then and there that it meant something else too. The living would have the weapons to hold the darkness at bay with ease from now on.

"Marquis, we have a problem," McNulty reported, breaking my reverie, "The Tranquil are running out of things to shoot."

That wasn't particularly bad news, but if it was the prelude to everyone else running out of ammunition, it would be. I glanced back at the supply wagons, but couldn't see how full they were through the smoke. I hissed a complaint to myself, fixing my mouthpiece.

"What about the firelances?" I asked.

"We still have plenty for those," McNulty responded, having anticipated the question, "But the rate we're going through cartridges... It won't be long."

I sighed. The darkspawn had to be almost done too. No way they could sustain these casualties for much longer. There was a breaking point in every horde, there had to be. It was going to come down to the wire.

I considered collapsing the main tunnel, something I had dismissed earlier as both too dangerous and too difficult to do correctly. The ceiling was a spider's web of cracked archways, as far as the eye could see in either direction. We'd need to make a fighting retreat to a section where the roof was more natural.

"Hold fire on the cannons," I said at last, "We'll use the last of their ammunition and the grenades to cover us if we need to get the hell out of here. Everyone else is to keep up the shooting."

"Copy," said McNulty.

Satisfied that would see us through long enough to break the darkspawn's numbers, I turned around to refocus my attention on them. It had gotten strangely quiet, and I began to wonder what they were up to.

What I found was Julie and Tam entranced in the images provided by my goggles, looking very unhappy.

"Sam," Julie said, "Look." She held out her set of goggles to me.

I took them and held them to my face rather than attaching them to my helmet. What I saw curdled my stomach.

The heat silhouettes lit up in the distance were not human sized. To me, it appeared as if someone had genetically engineered linebackers with horns. Seven feet tall each with ease, built of muscle to the point that they looked almost like gorillas walking upright, and armoured up. Worse, I couldn't see half of them because of the curve, and there was no shortage of squat archers walking alongside those I could see.

"Damn, would you look at that," I said, "It's the New England Patriots. Have to say they're looking raggedy."

"Ogres," Tam said, her lips curled with disgust, "Corrupted Qunari..."

The slight twinge of fear in her voice was painful to hear. It was more than corruption of Qunari bodies, it was a corruption of her own desire. These were the spawn of the kidnapped.

"Doesn't matter what you call them," I said, "They're dead."

I took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.

"McNulty, have the Tranquil load canister," I ordered, "Grenadiers and mages to front and centre. Firelancers, cease fire and prepare to charge."

The general didn't reply, his voice called out to do what I had asked. The soldiers and mages began moving, forming up for what was to come. McNulty saw that it was appropriate, and took a small swing from his flask. And I doubt it was of water.

"We're about to be visited," he said, "By something worse than these … creatures."

"Yeah," I replied, "One more thing. Women to the rear."

Julie, Leha and Ciara immediately raised their voices, all variously stating that they would not be put in the back. Tam didn't even need to speak, she just sent a glare my way. I just held up a hand to forestall them, but it didn't work. They kept on, probably rightly so.

"As if I could stop any of you from doing what you want!" I said loudly, "But I'm not putting our soldiers at risk of... whatever the hell it is the darkspawn do to the people they drag off." I hesitated to say 'women they drag off'... because we didn't need that image in our heads any more than it already was.

My lovers seemed to accept it, at least, so with that, I descended the splintered columns. Mercifully, the smoke had cleared up a little. I joined Armen as he moved to the front with his mages, the others coming along close behind. Or at least, some of the mages. A majority of the Libertarians were female... the reason for which I would be discovering soon on Lake Calenhad.

The eyes of the ranks followed us with trepidation and alarm. They knew if we were going forward, we were about to enter the churn. No point being quiet about the details.

"Ogres up ahead," I said to Armen, "You ready?"

The mage gave me a thumbs up, his grin going nowhere. Armen was always a brave man.

We reached the front, where the Tranquil were loading up their cannons with canister shot. I looked back, and saw the women that had been ordered back taking up our previous post on top of the collapsed columns. That was the rear, technically, I guess, it wasn't exactly in the spirit of my order. But one look to the front had me feeling glad that they had come up with the loophole.

The ogres were charging now, the genlocks running behind.

I quickly explained my plan to McNulty. Once he had the idea, I cocked the bolt of my heavy firelance and knelt. Julie and Leha did the same to either side of me, firelance and crossbow aimed, as Tam, Ciara and Armen stood behind us in the ranks of the soldiers.

It became easier to pick out the details of the individual ogres as they came closer in the dim magical light. Their faces were strangely skeletal, the ridges of their eye sockets and brows pronounced. The horns were unique to every individual, some having sets that looked like it would weigh down their heads, others almost lacking them entirely. Either way, the skull-faced horned devils were an entirely worthy enemy.

They got bogged down in the blood, guts and remains of their slain fellows, despite having more muscle to put behind the task of kicking and shoving the corpses out of the way. Regardless, it was an opportunity I wasn't about to let pass.

"Armen, now!" I shouted.

At once, brilliant white light poured from my friend's staff, directed forwards. The ogres reacted the way you'd expect creatures that have lived almost all their lives in darkness to react; they froze in confusion.

All the better to hit them.

The Tranquil reacted instantly with the perfect precision under pressure that only they could have. The cannons boomed, rolling back on their wheels by the force of the recoil. The clusters of lead balls tore into the ogres. Even with the smoke and the low light, no way they could have missed. With the help of Armen, they had picked their firing lanes for maximum effect.

Ragged, bloody wounds flowered on the pale skin of about half the beasts, sending many of them staggering to the ground and falling onto their chests. Yet most did not seem to have been killed, those felled even beginning to drag themselves up once more. They were recovering quickly. My mouth went dry at just how quickly.

It was our turn.

I took aim and fired, tracers streaming into the darkspawn from the last good barrel for the heavy firelance that I had left. Julie joined in first, quickly followed by the soft hiss of Ciara and Tam's arrows and the dull thrang of Leha's crossbow. We targeted the most healthy looking ones, the ones whom were at the edges of where the cannons had fired, trying to keep them as far back as we could. To my great relief, it worked.

Which allowed the next stage to be unleashed. The Grenadiers had used the time we had bought well, spreading out and igniting the fuses of their grenades. As I finished shooting, the grenades were thrown, arcing through the air and among the enemy. They exploded around the feet of the ogres, crippling the entire front rank and killing those still on the ground.

Yet still the darkspawn advanced, and with a great deal more haste now. That struck me as almost... intelligent, which should have been more disturbing had it not been for the soothing sound of the firelancers cocking the hammers of their weapons. I quickly reloaded, letting my subordinates do the work of coordinating our

"Presentez vos armes!" McNulty shouted. His Grenadiers knelt, getting out of the way of the forest of long barrelled muskets, bayonets gleaming in the reflected light from Armen's staff.

"En jou!"

"FEU!"

Four full ranks opened fire, cracking off shots as one, the bullets rippling wounds through the running darkspawn. The ogres were no match for firearms, but it didn't matter. The living, just as with the lesser forms, simply kicked the dead aside and kept going. Worse, unlike their smaller cousins, those that had lost an arm or even both arms decided that being injured to that degree was no impediment to them taking a few of us with them.

The sinking feeling that we might not win almost kept me on my knee, but I fought it away, standing up and giving the order for the final part of my plan. The last ditch effort before we had to retreat.

"CHARGE!" I shouted.

The rebel yell went up from the throat of every soldier, their firelances held at the hip.

Together, we ran straight at the ogres. Whatever wounds they thought they had gotten away with, the darkspawn's line was ragged and disorganised, and they had no time to remedy that.

Julie and I ripped through the centre with our firelances, Armen doing just as much damage with bolts of lightning, all of us yelling until our throats hurt. To both sides of us, the giants were getting impaled by five, six or seven bayonets at a time, there was just that amount of space for our people to work with in between each of the enemy. The rear ranks caught up and added point-blank firelance shots, mages doing all they could to protect our people.

Not that most of the blows delivered by us were anywhere near lethal enough, but the weight of numbers told much.

The ogres retaliated with vicious backhanded blows with armoured fists, killing instantly anyone they caught in each swipe. The magical barriers that clung to our soldiers' bodies were no help, except against the opportunistic shooting of arrows. The whole thing devolved into a giant, knives-out brawl.

The bodies of my soldiers flailed to the ground, sending my blood to boil. Where I saw such sights, I brought retribution, but even my formidable arsenal was not enough. We killed most of them, but not all of them. Soon, as my companions and I reaped in the centre, the darkspawn pushed in on the edges, almost surrounding us. We could eventually beat them back, but it wasn't something we could do in a moment.

I should have called a withdrawal, at least to stabilise our lines... We had already broken the ogres, which was the whole point of our charge in the first place. But I didn't. I couldn't. It would have delayed the annihilation of the darkspawn.

Which means what happened next was entirely my fault.

Ciara and I were killing a particularly large specimen that had just collapsed the chest of a Grenadier, feathering … him? It? I'm still not clear on darkspawn gender. Regardless, he fell to the floor, feathered with multiple arrows and bleeding profusely from the gut where five-five-six rounds had sliced through. Pleased with the result, I began to search for my next target, when something whipped past my ear. At least two arrows, but I can't be sure.

I flinched and dropped to my knee, the pad soaking in mixed darkspawn and human blood. Normally, I would have shown the shooters the error of their ways by making them into Tantervale-Swiss cheese. Instead, I heard a sound that made me feel as if someone had their hands around me throat; a ping followed by a cry of pain. I knew exactly who the latter belonged to.

I turned to find an arrow sticking out of Tam's back.

The arrow, badly fletched with something that wasn't from any bird, had buried itself below her left shoulder blade, having entered at just the right angle to avoid the heavy kevlar and the steel plate beneath. It hadn't penetrated too deeply, but Tam began to falter, dropping her bow and staggering, her hand searching for and finding the offending weapon.

I ran over, trying to stop her from yanking it out herself, but she did it before I could stop her. The scream of pain from that action finally drew Julie's attention.

"Oh no, no, no!" she said, coming over and trying to put pressure on the wound, "Not now, not now!"

"We need to get the hell out of here," I said, discovering the error I had made in the worst possible way.

Tam threw off our touch with a snarl, rage consuming her, her eyes looking off down the tunnel. She stood up awkwardly to her full, considerable height. She coolly drew her longsword and curved dagger. To Julie and I, it looked like complete madness, and we tried desperately to get her to get back, to move to safety. Leha and Ciara sent worried looks our way, even as they kept the genlocks off our backs. Armen was too far to have noticed yet.

"Marquis!" McNulty said in my ear, desperation in his voice, "We need you!"

Our troops were backing off now, achieving what I had hoped to in that the darkspawn at the edges of the tunnel had been repulsed, but the reason for it was far less hopeful.

The darkspawn had a damned mage, and if there was anything on Thedas that looked more like a vampire, I haven't encountered it. It wore strange headdress, almost like antlers, and long leather robes. It walked along as casually as can be, the last three ogres protecting it, as it protected them. The bodies of our soldiers that had gotten close were simply shredded, as if from the inside.

"Blood magic," Tam rasped, "It's an emissary."

I didn't recognise that term... but it implied greater intelligence than what we had seen so far.

Our soldiers were backing off and reloading, even as the thing advanced. Its face was covered save for holes for eyes that were solid black, but by its body language, it looked to be positively enjoying itself. Taking its time. Even the genlocks had stopped shooting.

McNulty was the last to reach our point, giving notice to Tam's wound, before looking expectantly at me. We had no Templars on hand. I was the only one who could stand up to the emissary's magic. Not something I wished to do, but the thought of

I moved in front of Tam, firelance at the ready. Julie joined me, taking aim.

For a moment, neither army did anything but threaten each other quietly. Our people aimed, the monsters did the same with their shortbows. I stared at the emissary, it stared back at me. It seemed to be evaluating me, trying to figure out why I would step in front. It was disgusting, and I just wanted it over with.

"Fuck you!" I shouted, "Go back to hell where you came from!"

Its head tilted to the side, curious. And then it unleashed a magical bolt, over our heads.

I squeezed my trigger, stitching the emissary with bullets. Barriers with the strength to protect from me not being in the magical repertoire of the creature. Intelligence doesn't translate to a greater will to live among darkspawn. It tumbled backwards, dead as anyone else who thought bending reality only a little would save them from a machinegun for long. The ogres around it looked at it, and back to me.

Unfortunately, the corrupted mage wasn't finished screwing with us yet, even after death.

From behind came the sound of rock splitting. The last column standing to our rear had taken the full force of the emissary's magic.

No one wasted any time. Even the darkspawn fled back the way they came, the roof above us joining in the fun. With no time to lose, I manoeuvred myself to help carry Tam away and grabbed Julie's arm with my free hand, before dragging both of them to safety in the midst of the rush to get away. The column fell towards us, and with it, the well-crafted ceiling came down.

It felt like being inside an earthquake when the rock impacted the floor less than a dozen feet from where we had been standing, my teeth rattling in my gums with each hit, but the sensation soon subsided.

A quick check confirmed what I already knew from the fact that we were still breathing. The whole mountain hadn't come down on us, just the artificial parts above us and sections of what looked like another, much smaller tunnel. Better yet, we weren't cut off from rejoining the rest of our people and I doubted that the Tranquil were crushed. The way wasn't entirely blocked, even if it didn't look like we could fit more than one person at a time through a path created by the shelter of the previously downed columns.

But I knew that wasn't the point.

"Form up!" I said, "They'll be coming!"

Answering me, the darkspawn did exactly what I thought they would. They came swarming back, now that we were trapped like rats. Not to mention separated from our ammunition wagons.

"FEU A VOLUNTÉ!" McNulty barked, lighting a grenade's fuse as he spoke.

The darkspawn were met with another hail of bullets and grenades, but they were coming from a section of the curve that wasn't covered in bodies. They were closing in, and I couldn't do much to help. My firelance was nearly empty, and I was practically carrying Tam. All I was capable of was watching helplessly, as we were pushed, step by step, over the mounds of the dead and dying, up against the wall of rubble.

Genlocks loosed arrows in volleys, testing the endurance of the Libertarians to the very limits and scoring lucky hits.

Armen was the man at the very front, spinning his staff like a god damn parade baton. He was sending out so much lightning, Thor himself would be green with jealousy. My previous queasiness at the death twitches of those struck by such attacks disappeared entirely, as he personally felled whole ranks of darkspawn, demonstrating once again why he held such rank among his kind at such a young age.

But even I saw the tide rising, Armen's obvious fatigue being the biggest clue of all. I drew the obvious conclusion.

"This is it," I said, "We've done what we set out to do. McNulty, begin getting the wounded through the passage. We'll hold them as long as we can."

My words didn't say that we were probably already dead, but my tone sure as shit did.

"Yes, my lord," he said, immediately, "It's been an honour."

"Wish I could have had another drink with you," I said, "Tam first."

The general nodded, and took Tam from me, her violet eyes barely open now. Julie gave her a kiss as she was taken away... which I couldn't bear to do, for the sake of my own determination to die facing the enemy. The terrible dread of death weighed like chains on me, as I'm sure it did on everyone present. Seeing it through without Tam was worse.

The walking wounded began carrying or dragging those more seriously injured away. They threw their ammunition belts over the shoulders of those still in action as they passed before filing through the gap in the rubble. The darkspawn's mindless tactics were coincidentally the best they could have employed, now that we didn't have buckets of bullets to throw. Even after I had reloaded the last belt into my own firelance and spent it, they came on in waves.

Armen soon came reeling back like a man drunk through the gun-smoke.

"They're almost done," he said, panting like a dog, "They have to be." I agreed, though I wasn't sure that meant we'd get through it.

Another darkspawn wave boiled forwards, made up this time of the darting forms of shrieks. They weren't densely packed like the others, and danced about, making very poor targets.

"So are we," Leha said.

"Fen'Harel ma halam!" Ciara shouted at the shrieks, loosing her last arrow, "I am only done when I am dead."

McNulty strode over, grim as you would expect, firelance couched in his arms.

"The wounded are through," he said, "But we're almost out." Through the escape passage, and out of bullets, he meant.

"Very well," Julie said, before I could.

She moved to the front once more, letting her firelance hang off its straps and taking her warhammer into her hand.

"Liberté!" she declared.

"Ou la mort!" replied the troops, without hesitation.

A sad smile fell over Julie's face, and everyone knew what she wanted to do, what she was asking us to do. Quietly, we began to advance. Not a charge. A walk. I don't think we had another charge in us anyway, but regardless, it wasn't about that. Our troops closed in shoulder to shoulder with us once more.

We were fully prepared to wade into the horde, with no escape. We went straight at them, firing the last shots, dirtied bayonets and swords at the ready for the last action. Contrary to some thoughts afterwards, it wasn't exactly a completely suicidal move, just very nearly one. We believed we could win. We just didn't think most of us would live to see it.

But when a dull drone of a horn being blown from the tunnel beyond sounded, we stopped dead in our tracks, despairing.

"More of them," Ciara said wearily, "Is there no end to it?"

The horn sounded again, twice in rapid succession. Suddenly, Leha began cackling. Like a crazy person, holding her sides, almost dropping her sword, as the rumbling of feet got closer. It appeared that even the darkspawn paused to take note of it, though that wasn't in fact the reason for their sudden change of vigour. Our people certainly didn't hesitate to exploit it.

"What the hell is it now?" I asked the dwarf.

"Those aren't darkspawn horns blowing," she said with complete glee, "I don't believe it!"

Around the corner came proof of Leha's assertion, in the form of a large number of armoured figures accompanied by the lumbering forms of moving statues. A couple of hundred dwarva, easily recognised by their height, though the 'golems' were much larger. The darkspawn, seemingly deciding that these newcomers were the real threat and not liking the idea of being trapped as we had been, threw themselves with the same abandon as before.

"Hold fire!" I ordered. Not that there was much need. Almost everyone was down to their last bullet, or had already shot it.

The golems wasted no time in scattering the main body of the monsters, allowing the dwarves the space to run through the darkspawn lines and gather in front of us. The darkspawn began to flee at last, their numbers finally too small to defeat what they faced. We looked on in awe, or whatever the closest thing to that is when you feel like you could sleep for a century or two.

The commander, as evidenced by the deference shown by subordinates, made his way towards us. This wasn't the first male dwarf I had met, I had known a few via Leha, but this was the first who really looked the part of what I knew a dwarf to be. Huge beard, huge axe. The skull motif on his armour and helmet completed the picture.

He was equally in awe, of the bodies piled against the walls and gathered in clusters all around, and of us for making them. He inspected us as he got closer, before the gleam of recognition entered his eyes as they fell on Leha. He approached, as she wiped the tears of laughter away, still giving off a chuckle here and there.

"Lady Malika Cadash," he said, "In the Deep Roads of all places, in the company of elves and humans... This is a sight." Leha, for the record, is actually her mother's name. 'Cadas' is her Orlesian moniker.

"Good to see you again too, Korbin," Leha replied, sheathing her sword, "Legion of the Dead now, I see. Can't say it doesn't suit you, but what happened? I thought you were in Bhelen's good books?"

"Long story," Korbin replied, "I chose it, more or less. We have a lot to talk about."

Leha looked around at the morgue we had turned this part of the world into.

"We do," she said, with a glance back to me.

"Yeah, but let's get the hell out of here first," I said. All those present agreed wholeheartedly.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's finally done! Praise the Maker! This chapter was an absolute nightmare to write, and I think I'll be editing it until the end of time. Even tried to write other stuff to break the block, but ideas for this kept coming to me instead, ideas I couldn't write into it!

A huge amount happened too, to the point that I could probably have written a volume about the Deep Roads itself... but the next chapter will finally see us in Ferelden.

In my frustration, I also drew a map of the Battle of Sahrnia... I'll put that up at some point, after I figure out how to do that.

Also, my alerts have finally resumed after a month and a half! I can actually see when you review and message me. I feel privileged.

The poll on which other Outlanders you'd like to see a story about first (after the first Tiberius) is still open, and the results are different from last time! Go vote if you haven't already!

Enjoy this chapter!

Katkiller-V: I could have prepared for three more chapters... and preparation leaked into the start of this chapter too, but I decided I needed to get on with it.

Nothing good ever does happen in the Deep Roads...And yeah, the Legion were always going to show. It's just not the underworld without them.

5 Coloured Walker: Merci

Thepkrmgc: Ah yes, but who?

Lord Mortem: Thanks

Charlie019: Who said Antiva was going to sit quietly?

And yeah, I'm looking forward to finally writing Aurelia myself. As for ogres, it takes a shedload to kill them.

OBSERVER01: Cheers

Noblescar: I'm glad you did find it, and enjoyed it so far! Though I must ask; how did you find it? Via TV Tropes, a search on here?

Guest: More shall come.

Veniat: You aren't alone in thinking like that, but I have to point out as I have before that Gaspard is not handing Ferelden anything. Ferelden despises Orlesians. Julie and her people are Orlesians, who are just as hostile towards Ferelden.

Stuilly: Hope this fulfilled your expectations.

Stormtide Leviathan: Will do.