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.

51. Chapter 51: The Promised Land

Chapter Fifty-One: The Promised Land

To say that Julie was angry about Velarana's action to challenge her for the leadership of what remained of Free Orlais would be an understatement.

The Aequitarian leader publicly announced her resignation as a general of the Army and the start of her election campaign at the triumphal feast in the ballroom of Anora's Watch. In front of all the officers, as well as the remaining local leadership. Including a very bemused Warden-Commander Andras. The ale, mead and meat seemed to sour to the taste afterwards, and I found myself unable to continue enjoying them. The same was true of a great many present, including two of our three remaining generals.

Not that Mike would ever have turned down mead on account of poor atmosphere. Others saluted the race to come, those with no head for politics or without a dog in the fight. Andras and Hawke among them.

Julie was incandescent that night, pacing about our rooms with a look of pure fury on her face. She had borne what she saw as a public insult with incredible grace, her talents as a politician flowering at last. But this display didn't last long. She walked about for less than half an hour, before making a quick trip to Leha's room, directly opposite ours, speaking to the dwarf in hushed but rapid words. She made another to Armen and Ciara's room, but we couldn't hear a word of that.

The next day, Armen formally ceded his place as leader of the Libertarians in favour of Julie, and Leha was announced as leader of the Lucrosians in full equality with Valle.

The time of the fraternities as purely magical factions had already ended, for us at least. However, it was unprecedented that a non-mage would even share leadership of a fraternity, never mind take over completely. But it was also inevitable. People had already started joining them as associated members, subscribers to the philosophies that each fraternity was in favour of. Now, their express purpose was the promotion of these philosophies, rather than the interests of magic.

The event formalised what before had been simply an informal alliance. Julie gained access to the most organised group of political activists anywhere, as the Libertarians had to be in order to survive the varying degrees of Templar hostility that existed across Thedas. Even in Circles where Harrowed mages were allowed to live outside the tower, which was the majority, Libertarians had to band together to make sure that privilege was granted to any of their number. Organisation was utterly vital to them, and now that talent was in Julie's hands.

Leha joined the Lucrosians in order to make the same happen with that fraternity, but in truth, they were her true political home anyway, being the advocates for increasing the wealth of the realm, via their own first and foremost. The Lucrosians were a great deal less organised than the other fraternities; before Leha's leadership, almost no one outside of the enchanting or arms manufacture businesses had joined them. That changed rapidly, and the merchants were dragged into a state of organisation at last.

The campaigning began, especially once the printing presses got moving about a week and a half later. The majority of our people were significantly more literate than the host population of Amaranthine, the result of efforts of Cleric Brandon's predecessor, as well as our own compulsory lessons via the Army. Soldiers needed to be able to read written orders, it was a requirement for any sort of promotion beyond the rank of private. And privates were paid just a little more than a labourer would have been.

The pamphlet war was one area in which Julie had a decided advantage. She was a better writer than Velarana. Kept on point, didn't descend into too flowery language. She also used image prints on the back side of her materials, which did helped the understanding of the still-significant numbers of people whom could not read well. Latin script made things easier, both for reading quickly and printing.

But it was clear that Velarana had the advantage in morale terms. People were sick of fighting, sick of marching, and now, sick of living in homes that weren't their own or in tents pitched inside warehouses. And now, they were saying so. Even in the Army, discontent was on the rise. Julie knew this, but had calculated for it.

The main result of that is best talked about in the next chapter, which shall deal with what happened when Julie finally met Velarana in public 'on the issues' as some used to say. However, for the first three weeks of the campaign, she would keep up the public relations and reserved the harder hitting points for the main event.

Annoying for me was the seeming creation of journalism alongside the new spirit of civic engagement. The journalists were mostly the printers themselves; neither Julie nor Velarana could afford to buy all the dwarven printing presses available. Well, Julie could have, but wasn't willing to. She also could have made machines if she had the time, but she didn't.

Given the huge success of Le Sens Commun back in the Dales, two or three groups of investors had bought a machine a piece, and were now employing young men and women to chase various people up for answers. The investors quickly recouped their losses in the months following, but they were more interested in shaping public opinion than in the strict bottom line.

Mostly, as all journalists do, they printed hearsay and garbage. But they were more careful than what I was used to. Outright lies and character attacks weren't their business.

Why? Defamation and slander were a criminal offence. It always had been in Orlais. Part of the Game, really.

Get caught speaking about something verifiably false in public, and that was uncouth at best. But it wasn't a crime if you didn't get caught. Just like murder was illegal but bards went about killing anyway. Mostly, it was peasants or merchants who ended up in prison or forced labour for bringing down the reputation of a noble.

Besides that, both Julie and Velarana regarded character attacks on each other as strategic mistakes, as their reputations would have been brought down by playing with them. Leha probably would have had no problem launching into a smear campaign against the latter, but Julie restrained her.

I was glad to be away from all that. I had made it absolutely clear that I wanted no part in politics, because I had both seen them in action and studied them in theory, and I wasn't the type of person for that career. So, I watched from the sidelines. Drilling the troops, hanging around with Ciara and Tam, watching the confidence of Julie, Armen and Leha rise for their prospects. They seemed to be clawing back victory from what they had presumed to be defeat. They were right, to a certain extent.

It was perfect for me. I was very content with the scenario. So, the whole damned lot of them, Velarana included, decided I was a little too comfortable.

---

The next part of the story requires a little history lesson, which is filled with no small amount of ironies that I'm sure the Maker likes to grin to himself about.

In 9:20 Dragon, Celene I Valmont ascended to the throne of Orlais.

She was only sixteen. The circumstances of her ascension included the possible assassination of her uncle, Emperor Florian, to grant her the honour, along with a year long state of near-civil war, and the overlooking of the obvious candidate in the male heir; Gaspard.

Needless to say, taking the reins of power when you're a teenager and the succession isn't absolutely legitimate, there are challengers. Most were Orlesian, of course. While Gaspard bided his time, others were taken care of in the way that bards take care of those sorts of things.

But not all of Celene's challengers were of her own country. The Nevarrans did their best to manoeuvre their armies to threaten the northern marches, which is probably the reason Gaspard didn't launch the civil war right then and there. The Avvars somehow got wind of the instability too, and launched a series of large scale raids that both Julie and Louise de Villars remember vividly from their childhood. Both the northern and southern invasions were repulsed, most notably in the north by Gaspard himself.

The other challenger, inevitably, was the Felicisima Armada. The loose confederation of pirate captains and raider chiefs always did have a nose for opportunity. That nose had led them to adopt the use of Antivan Fire on the high seas before any other power, which was the reason why they had been so vital in seeing off the Qunari threat in previous ages.

By 9:19, when Florian died, they had control much of the Waking Sea up to the Isthmus of Jader. That year also saw the withdrawal of Orlesian frigate patrols in anticipation of a succession war, the bulk of the Royal Fleet being recalled to Val Royeaux as a symbol of its submission to Celene, as well as to prevent attacks from the smaller independent fleets of the coastal lords.

The Armada banded together and passed through the Isthmus of Jader, ravaging the unprotected shipping of the internal waters of both Orlais and Nevarra. Ocean trade halted for almost two years as the Orlesian, Nevarran and pirate fleets did battle in a three way conflict that outlasted the one that Nevarra had begun on land. Eventually the two realms ended their conflict and combined their efforts, driving off the pirates at last, but not before the humiliating destruction of many frigates and the theft of millions of royals worth of goods.

Celene, quite rightly, was more than a little pissed off that such a thing could happen. Worse was that her admirals quickly informed her that they did not possess the right ships to root out the pirates from their strongholds.

The Imperial Navy's frigates didn't have the range. The ships could carry enough supplies were merchant haulers, too slow and not well armed enough to get the job done. Arming them would make them even slower. A counterstrike couldn't be done without using the Free Marcher ports of Ostwick, Wycome and Hercinia as bases. Those cities, although no friends to the pirates, had even less enthusiasm for the sudden arrival of Orlesian naval supremacy in the region. The only other alternative, Ferelden, was openly hostile.

The Empress, requiring military prestige at the start of her reign to keep the chevaliers subdued, ordered the construction of twelve large galleons designed to reach Estwatch and Llomerryn. Two decks of ballistas instead of just one, a longer hull and an extra mainmast, and a number of innovations for efficient stowage of supplies. The ships were laid down at Val Chevin and Jader in 9:22 Dragon, and completed in 9:28. But the call to action never came. The Empire's internal problems meant that Celene could not afford to take military risks.

The ships were relegated to a semi-merchantile role. Their extra deck and excellent turn of speed for their size made them ideal for transporting goods. Their lower decks had their ballistas removed to more than double their carrying capacity, and the ships began to show the flag on the Waking Triangle route. Being more or less immune to pirate attacks even without their full armament, this brought both great prestige and great wealth to Celene's coffers.

Like all ships on the Waking Triangle routes, the ships followed the money. They would bring wine, precision metalwork and luxury finished products from Orlais to the Free Marches, avoiding Nevarra's tariffs handily. In return, they'd receive goods and materials unavailable in Orlais or Ferelden like silk, spices, cotton and tobacco. The ships would then sail to Amaranthine or Denerim, sometimes both, to exchange some of the goods they picked up in the Free Marches for leather, pelts, and most importantly, grain. The whole process was hugely profitable, and the addition of our own city to the routes made it even more so, to our great fortune.

Remember all of this, because it was damned important for the task Julie and Velarana were to give to me.

This was one of the roots of Celene's reluctance to go to war, either against Gaspard or the realms on the border. It made her hugely wealthy, even for an Empress, allowing her to invest in personal projects at will. The income from the ship Valmont was entirely endowed to the University of Orlais, for instance. The money from the Florian went to the Chantry. Maybe she was admitting she had something to do with its namesake's demise with that?

These ships continued their trading throughout the civil war, providing Celene with a real countermeasure for the immediate military advantage that Gaspard would gain with his own victory at Halamshiral, which occurred around the time we were in the Deep Roads. Marcher condottieri and capitani di ventura, mercenaries in other words, hardened her peasant levy armies. Bull's Chargers among them. This balanced the advantage in heavy cavalry and elite infantry that Gaspard possessed due to the bulk of the chevalier order coming to his banner.

It is these trade routes that also brought three of the galleons, Halamshiral, Lydes and Clarisse, to Amaranthine in the winter of 9:39/40.

Into our hands.

Their crews were almost entirely Jaderites, and having heard what had happened in their native city months earlier, they defected almost immediately. That loyalty to our cause was cemented when I ordered that the non-strategic materials on board the ships be sold and half the money be given to the sailors as a reward for their 'stalwart defence of liberty'. Most of the sailors received more money than they had ever had in their lives. Most did not spend it wisely, but hey, you only live once. I was happy to see them live to the fullest. They still showed up for duty like clockwork, after all.

That left us with the ships themselves to deal with. There was no question we were going to keep them, along with the smaller but still seaworthy vessels we had captured at Redcliffe. Even without the wealth of knowledge from Earth, everyone understood that a realm needed access to the sea and ships could bring huge wealth. However, the names were a problem.

Six of the original galleons were named after Orlesian royalty. The other six were named after the six greatest cities of Orlais. Neither naming convention was suitable for us. The ancestors of people who tried to kill us were on our shitlist, not our namelist. As for cities, perhaps we could have tolerated Jader and Val Royeaux … but we got Halamshiral and Lydes instead. Calling our city-to-be Troy may have seemed like tempting fate to me, but calling anything after those two cities was a bridge too far even for Julie.

Of course, had we known that our garrison at Halamshiral had actually held out and the battle between the Empress and Grand-Duke fought outside the walls, maybe we would have kept that name. That was something we'd only discover once another set of uninvited guests arrived, however.

Naturally, Julie saw the political opportunity in naming the ships herself, and made an event of it. There were also the other ships to name too, although that was far less urgent. Regardless, it became the first big event of the Libertarian political campaign, and a little more than that for me.

---

It was a busy day, for almost everyone else.

Julie had to see to the organisation of everything, with Armen assisting. They both rushed about like their asses were on fire, between the rooms of Anora's Watch set aside for the Libertarians and the library, where a bemused Velarana watched them over the top of a copy of Rousseau's political works.

Leha, no longer a Libertarian, was occupied with trying to get the Lucrosians into something resembling order. On top of her duties as quartermaster. She was just plain missing from the castle, the Lucrosians had opted to base themselves out of the Merchant's Quarter, where they had made close ties with the local commercial interests.

Tam and her Grey Wardens were busy preparing themselves to be the escort for the local leadership, whom had been invited to the ceremony. As part of Andras' entourage, I spotted Hawke, Oghren, Sigrun, even an ancient looking man supposedly called Avernus. Bann Howe even returned, so I let her brother out of his cell for the occasion with the promise that I'd execute him if he made trouble. He seemed to be cool about it, Andras probably being responsible for that.

That left Ciara and I floating about with little to do until it was time to go down to the docks. We spent the morning hours in the library too. Me watching Velarana like a hawk and occasionally getting a rushed kiss from Julie, like she kept forgetting that she already had kissed me. Ciara playing with her dagger and occasionally sighing with boredom, attempting to provoke the Aequitarian mage into some kind of reaction. Which didn't work.

I was very glad to be out of the place by the time midday rolled around.

My job for the day, as well as that of Ciara and a platoon of the Rangers under Sergeant Shovels, was to escort another three VIPs to the event; Claire, Victoire and Patrice.

Julie's sister was dressed for the cold, cloudy weather in a thick hooded cloak, her dark brown hair pouring out of the front of it. She was in a good mood, smiling in fact, when I met her outside the main gate of the castle. The two babies in her arms were swaddled in enough fur to protect them from Antarctic blizzards, and probably could have bounced if they had accidentally fell. As surrogate mothers go, Claire was doing very well, I thought. The inevitable squeals as Ciara rushed over to see the kids rang out, as I gave Claire a nod in greeting, slinging my firelance.

"How are we today?" I asked, as Ciara babbled in Elven at Victoire.

"Not fussy," Claire replied, answering for the children and not herself, "They seem to like going outside, so I take them onto the battlements when they do get worked up."

"And you?" I said.

"Tired," she said, "But... hopeful. You seem to be keeping your promise to keep us safe."

The one I had implicitly made to her at the Wolf's Lair, before we had marched through the Deep Roads.

I shrugged it off. "We're not across the sea just yet," I said, "But our chances are as good now as they're going to get."

"Stop being so careful," Ciara teased in reply, her lyrical accent at maximum, "We've got it in the bag."

One of the babies let out a screech, a cry for attention. Claire hushed them both, getting a little slap on the face for her trouble. The kid was definitely related to Julie, I thought. I held out my arms, inviting Claire to give me one of them, as they were getting to be a little too big to carry two at a time. She obliged, and I received one of them.

Victoire looked up at me from the bundle of fur and smiled, poking at my face with her little forefinger. My heart lurched, entirely unexpectedly at the time, but entirely understandably in hindsight. After all, so many of my supposed troubles to come boiled down to what I was holding in my arms. 'Won't someone think of the children!' The entirety of civilisation does, perhaps.

"Are you okay?" Ciara asked, in a strange tone I couldn't quite identify. When I looked back at Claire and Ciara, they were both looking at me with alarmed interest. As was Patrice, albeit with a great deal more confusion in his big brown eyes. Evidently, something of my feelings were plastered on my face. I got a hold of myself at once, straightening up, not wanting to betray any sense of malaise. I had to at least maintain the appearance of having my act together.

"I'm good," I lied, waving her off and fixing my grip on Victoire's swaddle, "Shall we go?"

Claire inclined her head in agreement.

"Sergeant," I said to Shovels, "Allons-y."

The sergeant complied. The Rangers moved to surround us in a protective circle, swinging their firelances off their shoulders and into their hands. We started forward once they had, through the gateway leading to the docks.

The docklands were packed with people, both Orlesian and Fereldan. The warehouses seemed almost empty as we passed by them, and the main avenue along the piers themselves were utterly filled. The seven ships to be renamed, those large enough to be worth such an honour, were tied up by the dockside, Old Glory fluttering from the tops of their mainmasts. Red, white and blue ribbons tied up linen cloth to cover up the nameplates at the sides and sterns of the vessels, waiting to be revealed to the waiting crowds.

If I had to guess, I'd say most of the town's residents had turned out too. Which wasn't something you'd expect to see given that the clouds were an angry grey, edging towards black. Never underestimate the boredom of people in winter, being the lesson.

The mere sight of the Rangers got us through the crowd with ease. That many were off duty soldiers undoubtedly helped, and there was some mild manhandling of those more reluctant by others in the crowd, saving our escort the bother of doing it themselves. I apologised to the victims as we passed, if only to keep our PR up.

We arrived at the platform where Julie was due to speak, in front of what was now the flagship of the 'Navy of the Free' directly in front of the main avenue. The rostra was surrounded by the Avvar Highlanders, warpaint on and blades drawn, Amund and Asala at the front, causing a sort of bubble of empty space in the crowd's mass. We stepped into that space, and the Rangers joined the guard duty.

Asala saluted, keeping a professionally blank face as she did so, before returning her gaze to the masses, to do her duty. Amund gave me a closed fisted salute across his chest, oddly reminiscent of the chevalier one.

"Look who the Lady dropped on us," the Skywatcher said to me, "Come to see how the Lowlanders shake their knees at the sight of us?"

I smirked. It would be an unwise person to not fear the sheer mass of Amund, provided you weren't armed with something that could neutralise him from a distance.

"Good to see you too, Amund," I replied, "Did you get bored of arguing with Brandon and decided to join us here?"

"That priestess of yours has a big mouth on her," Amund rumbled, stretching his arms and sending the crowd back another pace with the gesture, "But the Lady instructed me not to harm her, and I think I enjoy her now. Been nothing but omens of peace for the past few weeks too. Our arguing is a good distraction."

"Don't get too sad," Ciara said, "I'm sure there'll be plenty of fighting once we get across the sea." Amund grunted, clearly wishing that to be true.

"One hopes not," Claire interrupted, "We've had quite enough fighting, thank you very much."

Amund eyed the younger Marteau sister, and then the two fur-wrapped children in our arms.

"Lowlanders believe that war is something that breaks peace," he said, "But the Lady teaches that peace isn't real. Even when 'at peace' it is still war. Believing in peace makes people soft, and softness invites greater conflict."

"Walk softly and carry a big stick," I paraphrased aloud, not really speaking to anyone in particular, "I can get behind that idea. There's a reason why Peacekeepers are always armed."

Amund gave an appreciative laugh, and slapped me on the shoulder, lighter than he would have had I not been carrying a child in my arms. The big softy.

"I knew you'd get it, outlander," he chuckled, before he looked at Claire again, "There's always someone plotting to take what is yours, little mother. To protect your children, you must be ferocious."

Claire frowned up at him, not liking the point he was making or their root in pagan religious thought. Probably didn't like the phrase 'little mother' either, as she wasn't all that little for a woman. I sighed, not having the arsenal to defuse that rift, and went to Asala.

"Any trouble?" I asked.

The painted Qunari's head swivelled to me. "None, kadan," she said, "The locals were searched at the North Gate for weapons, and the remainder are our own people."

She pointed to the roof of the nearest warehouse, where sentries were watching closely and the doors were open to reveal platoons of shield-bearers.

"The Grenadiers are in position to intervene if anything occurs," Asala continued, "With batons or firelances as required."

I nodded, pleased with the arrangements. I had no hand in organising them, Julie had wanted to give me some breathing space. I was about to understand why she had.

Julie and her entourage showed up a few minutes later through the North Gate, Tam and Andras flanking her. The mix of Grey Wardens and chevaliers parted the crowd like the Red Sea, which cheered despite the gloomy sky.

Julie was dressed in her deep blue and red dress, with her matching Orlesian half-mask and fur coat, riding side-saddle. Tam was in full Earth panoply, her shotgun held up in one hand, its butt resting on Fritz's back in front of the saddle. Andras was in her Warden uniform, with the addition of pauldrons in the shape of silver griffons on her shoulders. Behind rode Armen, in his Circle robes, and Hawke, in her Warden ones, then Louise and Bann Howe, followed by Mariette and Oghren. At the rear was Fisher, not used to riding a horse at all and so walking along, escorted by troops of his new marine regiments.

The procession passed by us, and the whole group dismounted, taking their positions on the raised wooden rostra. Claire made her way too, climbing up and then accepting Victoire from me. She was a Libertarian candidate, after all. I remained below with the guard, where I belonged.

---

Julie stepped forward, the others arranging themselves in a semi-circle behind her, against the backdrop of the large ship. She shot a smile at me, before turning her eyes to the crowd.

She began her speech by summarising the journey we had all been through. From the retrieval of the stolen taxes from the ignoble chevaliers; through the battles with the Templars at the Wolf's Lair and L'Ambassade; to Sahrnia, Halamshiral, Lydes, Vindargent and Hearth; through Honnleath, Redcliffe, Kinloch and the Hafter... We had come a long way.

Julie added that none of the fighting we had been through had truly been something we wanted, it had been forced on us by necessity. A contention as disputed then as it is now.

She declared that it had been worth it. She talked about the progress that had been made at Hearth and beyond before the defeat. More people could read and write in the region of the Eastern Dales than ever before. More people had been trained in skilled trades than ever before. For the first time in many decades, possibly centuries, wealth had been flowing into the Hearthlands, the Grand-Collines, the Midi and the Nouveaux-Landes, and not out of them. All of that was the result of their own efforts, and it was worth defending, worth spreading by the best means possible.

Now, the Maker had given the Army of the Free a new challenge; to create a shining example of liberty, in the form of a new city, a new realm. That the only way to meet this challenge was head on, to not betray any reluctance in facing down tyranny, or else it would nest among us. A not so subtle jab at Velarana's political moderation, which all of the Orlesians in the crowd understood perfectly well.

Julie announced the ships new names and the namesakes, in remembrance of those who had not been so lucky as we who had survived and the values we stood for. Each was accompanied by a magical fireworks display from the decks of the ship in question, performed by Libertarian mages.

Camille – Named for Camille Doucy, Baronness of the Nouveaux-Landes. It was the largest of the ships we had taken on Lake Calenhad.

Cécile – After Baroness des Arbes, Pierre's murdered wife and my once-denied prosecutor. One of the Orlesian galleons, formerly the Clarisse.

Justice – A longship, and the fastest ship in our fleet by no small degree, aspirationally named. Personally, I would have called it the Revenge, as it was the best thing for raiding that we could have possibly laid our hands on.

Liberté – Another oceangoing longship of Fereldan design, capable of going up pretty much any river worthy of the title just as the other longship was.

Ville d'Hearth – A fat carrack, also captured at Redcliffe, more or less only good for hauling supplies for the rest of the ships, but useful in that role to the point of being worthy of taking the name of the place where 'liberty was born'.

Élodie – Named for Julie's sister, the mother of Victoire and Patrice, formerly the Orlesian galleon Lydes.

Océane – Our new flagship, named for Océane des Arbes, daughter of Pierre and Cécile, formerly the galleon Halamshiral.

---

With the fireworks spent, the ships monikers revealed on their hulls in finely carved and brightly painted wood, the event was over. Julie thanked all those that had come out, despite the weather, and urged them all to participate in the political race that had just begun, reminding them that the decisions made by those elected would affect them for years to come.

The crowd began to disperse just as a light, wind-blown rain came in off the sea behind us. One that any child could have told was going to turn torrential, whether in a few minutes or a few hours. I found myself tempted to order everyone to disperse more quickly; the ordinary residents of the town were being shadowed back through the North Gate by the Grenadiers, and it was taking some time. I had to wait in the ever-thickening droplets until that was finished.

Ciara had went off to talk to Julie and Tam, leaving me in the comfortable but silent company of Amund and Asala... at least, until Fisher came along.

"General," he said, amicably enough.

"Admiral," I replied politely, acutely aware that he was now my equal. On paper, at any rate.

The silence after that was decidedly not comfortable, perhaps because of the man's sudden elevation to high command. Back on Earth, I always used to think that the rivalry between military branches like the Army, Navy and Airforce were childish. Something to be made fun of, but not taken seriously. I was beginning to understand the reality of that type of rivalry myself, now that I was more directly involved in it.

"Don't I get a greeting, fishman?" Amund said with amusement, before poking a huge thumb at Asala, "Thought you lowlanders were supposed to be 'nice' to women too?" Avvar opinion didn't run along the lines of treating women any differently to men.

Fisher, being the salty sailor that he was, hocked a gob of spittle onto the ground. To clear his throat, not to insult anyone. Asala grimaced in disgust regardless.

"Getting offended?" the Admiral said to Amund, "I don't know you, highlander. That's all there is to it. Don't get caught in your own net."

"No need to act like children," Asala said, shaking her head, "The tamassrans of your city must have been deeply lacking in training."

"Never met a sailor before?" Fisher smirked.

"Many," Asala replied, "They were more disciplined." Qunari being Qunari, after all.

Amund made a noise like he was considering that. "You're very strict, grey one," he said, "I know you've taken our people as your own, but you're more strict than any Avvar I've met. I'm not sure the Lady approves."

"I'm turning your people into something to be feared by all," Asala replied, touching the giant Avvar on the arm, "A closed fist, rather than an open palm. That's something the Lady can appreciate, I'm sure of it."

Amund seemed mollified, for the moment. Though his face betrayed no lust, I knew perfectly well that Asala had been accepted by him partially because of her... physical attributes. That was something the Avvar did value highly in their women. Hence the whole 'we walk around only in furs, half naked' thing. Asala, for her part, had been inadvertently exploiting this the whole time, completely unaware that most of the Avvar men and some of the Avvar women were pining for her.

Never underestimate the power of sexual politics, there's another lesson for you.

It helped that Asala was inherently competent in all respects, however. Upon finishing her little monologue, she marched off to see to the disposition of the Highlanders, now that the crowds had parted. I decided to change the tack of the conversation, if you'll pardon the pun, towards more business.

"How goes the training?" I asked Fisher, "The new gunners getting used to their jobs?"

Fisher frowned. "They're not as good as the Tranquil," the admiral said, "But then, they're training out on that barge in the harbour, this rain lashing them, wind cutting through them. Most of them are landsmen that first saw the sea at Lydes in the distance, not sailors. They're not used to it."

That sounded like bad news, but Fisher was far from a 'landsman' and could have just been bitching. I cleared my throat, and moved closer to him.

"They're still making progress?" I asked quietly, "Or do we have to revisit the issue of Tranquil women on your ships?"

"There will be no women under arms on my ships," Fisher said emphatically, before returning to a calm tone, "But yes, the gunners are learning to shoot. The loaders are already good at their job, it's the aiming that's the problem. It's a lot harder to do on the waves than on land, it's my Jader boys that are helping teach that and they're a lot less efficient about it than the Tranquil are."

As shooting a ballista and firing a cannon have the chop of the waves in common, those with experience in shooting the former on the high seas were of great use. My understanding is that the trick is to aim using the high or low point of the ship's movements. The gunners out on the barges had been augmenting the natural movement of the waves by running the spare squad back and forth, as well as jumping up and down on the thing, so as to shake the whole vessel. I had spent an afternoon watching from Anora's Watch with my binoculars, and felt a little seasick for it.

"Could use more cannons though," Fisher said, "Twenty per galleon and eight per longship isn't enough."

"Don't start," I said, "You've been given eighty or so guns, out of our one hundred and thirty, including every single one of our heavy pieces except for Annie." It was a miracle in itself that we had so many. We didn't even have carriages for all of them, so my complaint was a little off base because I couldn't actually field all one hundred and thirty at a time, but it wasn't completely so.

"All made out of enough silverite to buy and maintain a large chateau, I might add, representing a huge chunk of the money I spent on the damn things. I'm the one who should be asking Julie for more cannons, not you. Pity she's already said there's no point setting up the production for them here."

"Half of that eighty are," Fisher began, before pausing to find the words, "...what do you call it, without the grooves on the inside?"

"Smoothbore," I answered.

"Less accurate," he nodded, "A waste of powder and shot."

"You can't complain there either," I said, with narrowed eyes, "Can't fire the chained cannonballs you asked for after reading about them on Earth out of a rifled cannon. And we've given you three quarters of our explosive shot for the rifled guns you are getting too! I ought to call that highway robbery!"

Fisher held up his hands in protest. "Don't complain to me when the pirates get into range to throw sticky red fire at us," he said, "Because that's what'll happen if all this doesn't work. Rivaini bastards won't show any mercy."

"Pirates generally want to capture ships, not burn them down," I shot back, "Besides, you're the Admiral, remember? Figuring out how to stop them from doing either thing is your problem. Leave the peasant mobs and mercenaries to me."

Fisher cursed under his breath, knowing full well that I was dead right. Even if it was all our asses potentially on the line, which I hoped it wouldn't be given Tiberius' promise of a Tevinter naval escort, Fisher was the one who'd be in command on the seas. Not my fine self.

"You certainly weren't born yesterday, General," Fisher said, gritting his teeth, "I'll say that much."

I snorted, but said nothing. Nor did Fisher for a while.

"I've never been on a ship," Amund said, out of the blue.

Both Fisher and I looked at him, suddenly realising that the Avvars were undertaking a journey the likes of which his people had never underwent before. The things we do because our gods command it so, I thought to myself. Amund was a brave man.

Julie and Armen quickly sauntered up, managing to detach themselves from the others still on the rostra, first coming to my attention by the creak of the large crates that were used for supports. She waved a hello to Amund, who smiled back, getting the picture that he wasn't party to the topic she had come over to discuss. He swung his huge warhammer over his shoulder and left us.

"That went well," I smiled, as Julie descended gingerly down the ramshackle stairs, "I think you won a few votes today."

"It wasn't only about that," Julie pouted falsely, "But yes, I think so too." She turned her eyes to Fisher, causing him to shift his feet uncomfortably for a moment. Whatever treachery, if it can be called that, he had planned weighed on him, clearly.

"I have a task for both of you," Julie said, becoming serious, "As well as a few others."

"We've been talking with the Aequitarians and Lucrosians," Armen clarified, "Both fraternities agree with us that it should be undertaken without any interference from any of us."

My eyebrows raised at that. Practically everything had been up for discussion and competition as far as I could tell. They remained silent, waiting for something.

"At your service, Marquise," Fisher said, with all sincerity. That seemed to be what they wanted. Julie smiled at him, knowing full well that he could be voting for the other candidate in two weeks time or so.

"There is one thing we haven't decided yet," Julie said, "But we can't leave it until after the election."

"The location of our city-to-be," Armen said, "It's too important for any one faction to decide on, and almost none of the people elected have any idea about what we need. Almost none have been to the Free Marches anyway. Both of you will chair a military commission to decide where we should first attempt settlement."

If my jaw was ever inclined to drop, it would have at that statement. Luckily for my dignity, it wasn't very often that it did.

"I don't know anything about the Free Marches," I pointed out, before turning to my fellow chief of staff, "What about you Fisher?"

"Beyond some of the port cities and the coastline, not enough," Fisher admitted, "Even then, I could only tell you the best taverns and brothels. But she mentioned a few others?"

Julie nodded, retrieving a list from under her embroidered blue bodice, she held it out. I took it quickly, before the rain could get at it, and looked it over. A groan escaped me as soon as I saw the second name on the list.

"Mariette," I said, rubbing the bridge of my nose, "I've been trying to stay away from her." Pretty damn successfully at that point too, having sent her with a party of chevaliers and lancers to keep a watch on the Pilgrim's Path for the remains of the Fereldan Army. Which hadn't materialised as a cohesive fighting force, and I didn't expect it to before we left.

"She's been recalled. She lived in the Marches for a couple of years and according to Louise has much knowledge about them," Julie replied flatly, "Don't worry, Tam will be there to stop her... doing what she does."

My eyebrows rose higher. Julie had never expressed any particular hostility towards the harlequin before. Yet her explanation of Mariette's presence made it clear that she was hostile. What had changed?

The proposed members of this committee were pretty much just the High Command staff, obviously including Tam, as Warden-Commander and Mariette, as chief of intelligence.

The only addition of note was Bethany Hawke, whom had lived in the Free Marches from 9:30 until just after Anders blew up the Kirkwall Chantry, when she had to flee the area after her sister supported the mage uprising. As a former Marcher Warden, she had intimate understanding of the wilderness of the region, places we might be able to settle without stepping on anyone's toes. We could also call on the testimony of anyone we needed.

I blew out a smoking breath.

"You and Velarana..." I said, "You're trying to avoid getting blamed if it doesn't work out."

Julie laughed, reaching up and pulling my head down gently for a kiss, which she planted on my nose. "You're not running for Chancellor, my love," she said, "You don't have anything to lose. And I trust you."

"I know you do," I frowned, "That's what worries me. I'm not a city planner."

"We're not asking you to plan the city," Armen replied, "Just find a good place for it."

"That's half the job, I think," Fisher said to me, "Looks like we have a decision ahead."

"Important work," Julie said, "There's a reason we can't let politics interfere with it. It's too big a decision for any one faction to claim victory over, so instead of sabotaging each other, we've come to this path instead."

That seemed like a fair idea. I certainly didn't want to end up living in a swamp because it happened to be close to Orlais. I conceded, more out of a wish to get out of the rain than anything else.

Claire, Ciara and Tam joined us from the rostra, the babes in the latter two's arms.

"You've heard?" I asked Tam.

"I have," she said, giving Patrice back to Claire, "I know quite a lot about the Free Marches. I think I can help."

"So you're happy about being locked up with Mariette, Warden Hawke and the High Command?" I continued.

"If we can choose a place suitable, yes," Tam asked, not quite understanding my objection.

"You'll have to hurry," Julie said, "The people are waiting for an answer on this. Their impatience is why we've called a truce between the fraternities on the subject. Find us a home, Sam."

"I'll do my best," I said, "But I'll insist on Fisher's people checking it out by sea first, if possible."

"We can live with that," Julie replied.

Julie moved off to talk with Claire and Ciara for a moment, allowing me a short window to do the same with Tam. I seized on the opportunity immediately.

"Did you say something to her about Mariette?" I whispered, indicating Julie with a tilt of my head, "When the harlequin was mentioned, she seemed almost... angry?"

An amused grin broke over Tam's face, and she leaned closer to reply.

"I told her that Mariette de Villars does not actually … enjoy the company of women," she said, "That her flirting is simply an attempt to gain leverage, nothing more." Her flirting with Julie that is.

Ahhhh, I thought. That did explain the hostility, if it was true. Julie was perfectly happy to share her lovers, but perhaps she was more possessive than she thought. If Mariette was not actually interested in both Julie and I, to say nothing of Tam, but in myself alone, that was not sharing. That was thieving.

Julie was jealous. And I couldn't blame her at all for it.

"You understand," Tam said. My face had shown some sign of comprehension.

"I guess," I said, "But she needn't worry, it's not like I'm going to go behind her back."

Tam snorted. "Males," she said, "You have a belief that you have a choice in the matter. That is always amusing." I shot her a look that said I didn't appreciate her doubting my free will, but it was half-hearted at best. The members of my sex do tend to be led about by the cock.

Julie concluded whatever conversation she was having with Claire and Ciara, which was about an invitation for a dinner with Libertarians, and turned back to us. "See you tonight," she said to me, in a good mood, "Let's get out of the rain. The parameters are on the back of that note, by the way. We're counting on you."

I flipped the note she had given me over, and saw that there was something akin to a wishlist. I handed it to Fisher. "Have a look at that," I said to him, "We really have our work cut out."

"Without a doubt," the Admiral frowned, looking over the requirements the politicians had set us, "No time to waste."

---

Indeed there wasn't.

We called the commission together the next day in the Royal Lounge after an early dinner, gathering the appropriate maps and information. By the time everyone was gathered around the large table, the window outside was flowing with streams of freezing rain, which hadn't let up overnight. Thank God for the roaring fireplace. Bethany Hawke had got it going as soon as she had entered. The guards outside hadn't allowed any servants in to do the job, owing to the sensitive documents we had there.

On one long side of the table were the Army staff, all dressed in Free Army green barring one; Soprano, McNulty, Mike, Louise, Barris, and inevitably, Mariette. Louise was the exception to the dress code, her uncle's skull mask over her face but the rear helmet portion remaining absent, allowing her blonde hair to spill out over her shoulder onto the grey of her tunic. Even Barris was in green.

On the other side were the newly minted Navy people. Fisher and six captains; COs of the ships we had just christened. Men of Jader all, dressed a variety of winter sailor costume. One or two looked outright like stereotypical pirates. They had claimed the side closest to the fire before I had even arrived, something the Army side were not pleased about if the rubbing hands of some were any evidence.

At the bottom of the table was Hawke, belonging to neither Navy nor Army. With her was Andras, who had invited herself to observe on a whim. Considering I was doing most of the running of the city now, I guess she was bored.

I was at the head of the table, with Tam between me and a clearly pleased Mariette at the corner.

They were all standing rather than sitting, something I hoped that would encourage us to keep things as brief as possible. Only Fisher and I had chairs.

"Right, ladies and gentlemen," I said, "The Marquise, the vaunted Velarana and the dwarven wench have set us a task to find a place for our new city."

I laid out the still-damp note that Julie had given me on the table beside the huge map of the Free Marches, Rivain and the eastern part of the Tevinter Imperium.

"They agreed that the site needs to have certain things to be viable," I continued, "Access to the sea, the closer to Orlais the better, relative safety, fertile land, and finally, a position as inoffensive to other cities' claims as possible. As you can imagine, there's not a lot of places that fit all those categories, so we all might be up shit creek without a paddle on this one."

"Politicians didn't want to get blamed?" Mike asked. The addition of 'politician' to the Orlesian lexicon had already taken on some of the connections the word had in my own world, much to my amusement.

"Exactly," I said, "Just to make things even more complicated, the Admiral and I have also added our own requirement, that the site needs to be defensible from both land and sea."

"Agreed," said Fisher.

"First thing's first then," I said, picking up a stick and pointing at the map, "Access to the sea rules out anything north of the Vimmark mountains, and anything upriver of Starkhaven on the Minanter River. That leaves us with the coasts of the Waking Sea and Amaranthine Ocean, and the banks of the Minanter until Starkhaven. Any objections so far?"

There were none. It was the least objectionable part.

"Rivain and Antiva are ruled out because they're too far from Orlais," I continued, "The presence of the Qun in Rivain makes it absolutely a no-go. Antiva has no suitable unclaimed land at all, and has a strong government to contend with, so that's also out."

"But we could buy land there," said a Jaderite captain, the commander of the Camille, "The Antivan moneylenders would likely be willing to give us a loan, and from what I've seen of this army, we could easily pay that loan back. In fact, we could even work for the merchant princes as mercenaries and privateers, plenty of crowns in that."

I curled my lip, not wanting to put our people into mercenary work if I could help it. Although, given that we numbered between thirty five and forty thousand, I wondered if we could avoid making such compromises. We had the population of a middling city at best, not an empire. Thankfully, it wouldn't come to that.

"But then we would be Antivan subjects," said McNulty, "We might be able to organise our own affairs, but not our own defence. They'd demand that we disarm or share our knowledge of blackpowder."

"They would attempt to rob us of our weapons," Soprano agreed loudly, "After that, our wealth and freedom." Antiva not being any more hospitable to elves in real terms than Orlais, except perhaps with less of a taboo for … relations. No wonder Soprano was dismissive of the idea of going there.

"Antiva is too far from Orlais in any case," I intervened, "Unless you disagree Admiral? You're the maritime expert here."

Fisher rubbed his jawline with his knuckles, curling his lip in thought. "The main trade routes do go as far north as Rivain and Rialto Bay," he said, "It isn't distance so much as the pirates that makes it too far for our purpose. I think The Marquise and Lady Velarana intend uninterrupted trade with Orlais, which we couldn't have if we were to settle anywhere in Antiva."

"Which leaves us with the Free Marches alone," I said, moving the stick over the place on the map in question, "Since being close to Orlais is the category preferred, I think we need to talk about whether or not settlement on the Minanter is desirable at all. Warden Hawke, Major de Villars, any thoughts?"

Bethany Hawke shifted her weight, not having expected to be put on the spot.

"Starkhaven controls the entire river with their fleet of galleys," the Warden replied, "Only Wycome is free of its influence among the settlements there. Prince Vael is a good man, but he would expect some form of allegiance from you."

Warden Hawke had met the man, I could tell. That greatly increased my confidence in her assessment.

"Starkhaven is the largest of the Marcher states," Mariette confirmed, "Well, other than Nevarra and Antiva, if they can still be called Marchers. To settle on the Minanter means pledging your loyalty to the Vael dynasty. Their prince was the youngest of three, discarded, but he came back to claim his birthright. Warden Hawke is right, he is not someone to tolerate a new state being formed out of what he considers his rightful domain."

"And Wycome?" I asked.

Grins spread over all the captains' faces, as well as that of Hawke and Mariette.

"Wycome is known for its revelry above all," Mariette ventured, "It is a favoured port for that reason as much as being the gateway to the Minanter delta. But its demesne is small, and claimed either by the Dalish or by the petty nobles that rule it. Nowhere we could settle without offending someone. And it is a river delta. It floods, and some of the streets in Wycome are actually canals."

"A swamp in other words," I frowned, "Yeah, we can rule Wycome out... as much as I enjoy revelry." I shot a glance at Tam, and she gave me a nudge with her elbow for my trouble. I nudged her back for good measure, and continued.

"So, the Waking and Amaranthine coasts..." I said, "I don't suppose anyone has any suggestions?"

There wasn't any. Just a lot of eyes closed or raised to the ceiling in thought. Followed by a series of arguments over possibilities, none of which registered any traction with me or anyone else. Several conversations at once made it impossible to hear. Luckily, one of us had a decent idea.

"We need to rule out the places that are already claimed," said Fisher, causing the immediate ceasing of all other talk, "Major de Villars, can you tell us where we absolutely cannot go?"

Mariette said she could and asked for me to give her the stick I had been using. I slid it over the table to her.

"Hercinia would be impossible," Mariette said, pointing to a spot just south of Wycome, "It's got palaces, and that tells you all you need to know. It's where the raiders, smugglers and pirates go to retire, the successful ones. It's got a sizeable fleet and a large number of condottieri, paid for by the heaviest taxes in the entire world."

"Which I'm sure the former raiders, criminals and pirates don't pay a single copper of," said Louise with disdain, "The scum."

"Quite right, cousin," Mariette smiled, "But the ordinary people are not poor there either, they make enough to pay the taxes. I don't think we can count on Hercinia being a friendly place. Luckily, the city doesn't claim a lot of land, so settling near it wouldn't offend any other cities."

"It doesn't project its power," I thought aloud, "So it's not a real threat unless we directly step on their toes."

Mariette gave a single nod of confirmation, and moved the point of the stick again, this time to the south-west. "Ostwick is even worse of an option," she said, "They have a standing army, a small one called the Long Watch, and they lay claim to almost all the land between the Vimmark Mountains and the sea until the Wounded Coast."

"Ostwick is also famously pious," Hawke interrupted, "When I visited, there seemed to be no shortage of Templars, and as far as I know, the Ostwick Circle has seen no unrest whatsoever."

"Their contributions to the Chantry alone are enough to tell us that," Mariette agreed, "They're the last city within the influence of the Orlesian and Nevarran navies. Many traders from both realms do not venture further, as doing so risks the attentions of the pirates."

I took a sharp breath in through my nose, having noticed a common theme of the deliberations so far. "Pirates seem to be a big problem," I said, "We'll have to do something about that."

"They're considered a necessary evil," said Fisher, "Keeps the Qunari out of the Waking Sea." As the pirates had been the ones to take the fight to the Qun centuries before.

"That didn't help Kirkwall," Hawke said, "The Arishok destroyed most of the nobility. It's part of the reason the Templars gained so much power there."

"No, it didn't help," Fisher admitted, "But that's the logic of the nobles, who don't want to spend good silver and gold on ships and men to crew them. Only Orlais can really afford to, and Orlais is furthest from the problem." And even Orlais saw fit to invest a little in solutions, hence our new ships. Merci, Celene.

"Maybe we should make sure that we are far away too," I grumbled, "So we keep out of a war with the pirates."

"I'm not sure anyone can ever really be at war with pirates," Fisher mused aloud, his eyes raised, "It would be akin to being at war with thieves or prostitutes. You could win many victories in battle, but never the war."

"Then your realms haven't been trying hard enough," I said, well aware of my own world's history in that regard, "Mariette, any other reason that Ostwick's territory is a bad choice?"

The harlequin moved the stick along the south coast of the Marches. "It's heavily populated," she said, "Five hundred thousand or so live in the Ost Valley, which is maybe the size of the Fereldan Bannorn or the Emprise du Lion. Sixty thousand in Ostwick itself."

"Far too many," I said, "And in too small a space."

"The nobles are well connected," Mariette continued, "The Teryn has a marriage alliance with the Vaels of Starkhaven. Bann Trevelyan is connected by marriage to Nevarra, and maintains strong relations with a number of families in Antiva." The Trevelyans had relatives as far afield as Tevinter, in fact.

"Just to add insult to injury," I replied, "They'd be able to call half the continent down on our heads."

"They are also quite xenophobic," said Tam from over my shoulder, joining the fun, "I took ship to Orlais from Ostwick. My presence in their city was not appreciated."

I looked up at her from my chair, and saw that she was not sharing pleasant memories. "I've changed my mind," I joked, "Maybe we do need to visit Ostwick, to give them a hundred and thirty gun salute."

Tam's face softened perceptibly at the idea, knowing full well it was a joke but one intended to have just that effect.

"Straight into their city walls, Marquis?" Soprano asked, with a wicked look in her eyes.

"For a start," I replied, "Just to put Ostwick to rest as an option entirely, is there anything else wrong with it?"

"One other thing, related to their defences," Hawke nodded, "I'm not sure if this is actually a bother to you, but their city has double walls."

The table went quiet at that, and looked to me for the answer. I wasn't entirely sure if it was a problem.

"Two concentric rings of thick fortifications," Louise explained, "Built after the Qunari were kicked out, to better resist bombard cannons. The Qun landed there during their invasion of the Free Marches. The Marchers did not want a repeat event, so the nobles of five cities nearby gave donations to building the outer ring."

"Double walls could be an issue," I said, quite prophetically, "It would certainly make an assault more complicated. But we could starve or shoot over the walls to pound the city into submission easily enough."

"Hopefully it won't come to that," said McNulty. Quite rightly too, he knew any assault before or after an attempt to starve or shell the city would have seen his Grenadiers at the fore. City assaults weren't actually something we had yet been forced to do, not without significant aid from within. Halamshiral was the closest to that we had experienced, and Halamshiral had practically given itself to us.

"Like I said, we're not going to step on Ostwick's toes," I said, "Not directly, not after all this shit that seems to be wrong with the place."

I turned back to Mariette. "What's next, Major?"

"The last settlement on the coast is Kirkwall," the harlequin said, moving west along the coast to another large river delta, "The largest trading hub in the Free Marches. Anything the Marchers on the Minanter don't want the pirates or Antiva to get a taste of, which is most things, flows through here. Most of Starkhaven's trade with Orlais moves through the Lowtown Docks. Tantervale, Wildervale and Hamsal's produce too."

"I'm beginning to understand why Orlais is the richest empire," I said, "Seems everybody wants what Orlais is selling."

"Only Orlais makes anything of worth," Louise declared happily, "Everyone else just pulls their value from the ground, from the backs of animals or from the stone. Our craftsmen are the best in the world."

"For the moment," I said, not doubting for a second that Leha had plans to make many many things of worth, "So, what's wrong with Kirkwall? Other than having one chantry less than it had a few years ago."

"Actually, Marquis, Kirkwall may be the best option," Mariette said, "It has no legitimate ruler. No standing army or navy. Its population is relatively low, and much of the city is empty since the beginning of the Mage Rebellion. It has rich mineral resources that can feed our industry. The Planasene Forest to the west can provide both wood for ships and fertile land once stripped. It's close to Orlais, but defensible from all directions. Controlling the strategic trade route could assure peace without us needing to unsheath our blades."

She tapped the stick on the map.

"Marquis, it is ripe for the plucking," the harlequin concluded, "You haven't asked me for my opinion, you want to go through all the options. That is a good idea, but my recommendation would be that we seize the city and make it our own."

My lips went dry at such a good prospect, as the positive part of my mind was ticking off items of Julie and Velarana's wishlist. But the cynic in me was screaming bloody murder. Something had to be wrong with the place.

"So nothing could hinder our … colonisation?" I asked

"Many things!" Hawke objected loudly, stormclouds gathering on her face, "I don't know where to begin!" She was leaning on the table towards me from the other end, red with something akin to fury. Something personal was up.

"Do you know the city?" I asked.

"I am the sister of the Champion of Kirkwall, I lived there for years, I was there when Anders... committed his crime," the Warden said, her voice rising even higher, "Of course I bloody know it!"

"Then you can tell us all about it," Fisher replied calmly, "Without making us all go deaf."

"Your word is valued here, Warden-Constable," Tam added smoothly, "Sam would not have allowed you to participate if that was not the case. Speak."

Bethany Hawke deflated slightly, hanging her head for a moment to gather herself. It took only a moment, and she raised her head to shoot a venomous glare at Mariette. The harlequin scoffed, and placed the stick down on the table, as if to lay down the gauntlet. 'Get on with it' being the message.

"Kirkwall is a ruin," Bethany started, "A lot of it, any way. When the Chantry was obliterated, the rubble fell on the city and destroyed many of the buildings. The Gallows, the former seat of the Circle and the Templars, is infected with red lyrium, which poisons the minds of anyone who gets near it for too long."

My eyes widened at that. Magical crap that screwed with your head was definitely not something I wanted to live near, even if I was immune to it. I suddenly wished Armen was a general, as perhaps he could tell me about the stuff. In truth, he couldn't have, it wasn't something the Chantry-approved scholars had any knowledge about and he wasn't allowed to serve as an officer while running for office anyway, just like Velarana couldn't.

"There's more," Hawke went on, "Kirkwall has many many criminals. Murderers, thieves, assassins, swindlers, drunken idiots... There's barely anyone with honour in the whole place. Most of them are in the City Guard by now, thank the Maker."

Louise let out a single, false laugh. "Marquis, is this woman unfamiliar with who we are?" she asked in Orlesian, keeping her gaze fixed on the Warden, "Criminals are no challenge at all. We can clear out the entire city if we need to."

"It would be easy," Mariette agreed, also in Orlesian, "My cousin is right. Why should we be afraid of such dregs?"

"What are they saying?" Hawke cut in, clearly getting the right impression about the two de Villars' thoughts of her warning.

"They're not afraid of criminals," I said, "They're saying we could cleanse the city with ease, and I guess they were trying to be polite about suggesting that, since you probably know people there."

"The Coterie and the Carta are both highly organised and won't go down without taking half the city with them," said Hawke, "The City Guard will resist too. Aveline Vallen won't let you kill people indiscriminately."

"The local gendarmes and gangs are hardly a greater threat than chevaliers," Louise countered, "The Guard will be scattered if they block our way, the rest will follow." Like bowling pins, no doubt, as so many before had been. I couldn't see a police force being able to do anything about our troops. Perhaps that was overconfident of me, however.

"You are assuming they would fight fair, my lady," said McNulty, "Kirkwall is not Amaranthine, we can't count on getting the information we needed to cleanse the city here."

"Lowtown and Darktown's streets are far narrower too," Hawke said, coming to his support, "Any number of tunnels are underneath the city too, entirely unmapped. The Guard and the Carta could run rings around your soldiers, and you still die with arrows as easily as the next person. The Coterie could slip past your sentries and cut throats with ease."

That was a gross underestimation of our capabilities, and one I couldn't let go.

"That would be unfortunate," I said icily, "As I'd start raiding every house in the city to look for tunnel entrances, every dawn and dusk, until there were no houses left. I'm beginning to think that you are exaggerating to protect friends... or family."

Bethany recoiled slightly, and turned white as a sheet. Clearly, there was someone she was trying to protect. Two people, in fact. Her uncle and her cousin, as we later learned, of the much-esteemed Amell family no less. Guilt curled in my throat at the sight of her fear. Regretting losing my temper, I held up my palms.

"Look, it's not like I could sit around, letting my people get murdered," I said, "I'm not sure what you've said is good enough for me to dismiss the benefits of taking the city, is all I'm saying. If what Major de Villars has said is correct, going to war with a few criminal gangs and the City Guard would be a small price to pay."

I wasn't making things any better, Hawke remained distraught. I quickly added something a little more positive.

"Hell, an offer of help towards rebuilding the city could actually convince them that we're not evil occupiers, but people just looking for a new home. The criminals might not accept, but the Guard might."

Hawke lowered her eyes to the table, gaining sympathy from much of the Jaderite section of the table. But I had mitigated the worst of it.

"Now, is there any other objections to Kirkwall as our destination?" I said, opening the question to the floor.

One of the Jaderite captains, the CO of the Justice and the oldest as far as I could tell, grunted in the affirmative. I had picked him out of the others already for his distinctive look; slicked back grey hair, puggish scowling face, rough tanned skin, loose clothing in dark sea colours. I called him Paulie Walnuts from that point onwards. Never to his face, because he was a fierce son of a bitch who didn't appreciate disrespect. Just like Paulie Walnuts. Pity he wasn't from Treviso in Antiva or Estwatch, or else he'd have been the genuine article.

"Yeah, I got one," he said in Orlesian, eyes darting to Mariette and her scowl, "Don't look at me like I just slapped you, pretty lady, it's not personal."

Mariette crossed her arms, and raised her eyebrows in impatience.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Kirkwall's pretty close to Jader, just across the water," said Paulie, "I hear things... heard things from the place often, back home. Word on the docks is that some prince or another wants the city. Something about hunting down the mage who blew up that Chantry?"

"Anders?" Mariette asked, curious. Aha, I thought, she knows something about this. But I wasn't about to stop Paulie fucking Walnuts continuing to speak.

"Yeah, that guy," Paulie continued, with a dismissive wave of the hand, "Anyway, if we don't want to go to war, knocking on Kirkwall's door might be a bad idea. That's all I'm saying."

Now that the man had stopped speaking, it seems I wasn't the only one with something to say about that.

"What did he say?" asked Bethany Hawke, no more fluent in Orlesian than Paulie was in Common, which was unusual for a sailor, but hey, the man had spent more time on the sea trapped with his fellow Orlesians than he ever had on land among people who spoke Common.

"He might have just saved Kirkwall from our wrath," Soprano explained.

Hawke's face brightened, colour returning to it fully at last.

"Is the captain right?" asked McNulty of Mariette, "Is there a prince with claims on Kirkwall?"

Mariette's scowl deepened, the lupine shape of her eyes coming out as they narrowed at Paulie. "The Prince of Starkhaven wants to invade," she admitted sourly, "But only so he can hunt down the mage. Probably. There's no reason we can't cooperate with him in doing that."

This was not good news for Kirkwall's prospects. I rubbed my face, getting tired. "Or it's an excuse for Starkhaven to annex the one of the largest trade ports in Thedas," I said, "Not to mention that if Julie is High Chancellor, she'll tell the Prince of Starkhaven to go fuck himself with a spear if he comes demanding a literal witch hunt."

"Assuming she wins," said Fisher, betraying no feelings either way on the potential result of the election.

"Assuming," I shot back, not actually willing to assume any other eventuality.

"I still say it is worth the risk," Mariette said, standing firm behind her position, "The worst case scenario is war with Starkhaven. Our forces are superior to Starkhaven's alone, and the other Marcher states are unlikely to want to join just so Vael can have more power." Not a bad assessment, really.

"Marquis, the Vimmark Mountains provide an excellent natural defence against Starkhaven," Soprano said, foregoing the stick and using her finger to point out the mountain range to the north of Kirkwall, "I believe that we need to blood the Army and preferably the Navy too. As a message to all of them that we're not to be dismissed or exploited. Better that it be blood spilled over something that won't draw in the rest of the locals. Or Antiva and Nevarra."

"The Vimmark Mountains are full of darkspawn and draconids," Hawke said, "And with the army out of the city, you can expect riots and attacks on your people left behind."

"Okay," I sighed, "It looks like Kirkwall's out as our first option if Warden Hawke is even half right about it, but I can't ignore what Major de Villars has said either. We'll leave it on the table as Plan B, just in case something shows up badly in our reconnaissance of Plan A."

The Plan A we still didn't have. By process of elimination, we only had uninhabited or unclaimed areas left to discuss, and they could be potentially even more contentious than the places people actually lived in. There was usually a reason people didn't live in a particular spot. Mentally exhausted, I looked outside the window, and saw that it was pitch black. We had been going on for quite some time.

"I think we need some time to cool our tempers," I declared, standing up, "The commission is adjourned until tomorrow. We'll get together again around midday. Dismissed."

---

Tam and I managed to drag ourselves to our bedroom, where a very pleased-looking Julie was already waiting in the furs flung across the large, royal bed. Naked, lit up by the fireplace alone. I felt some of my exhaustion lift, all of a sudden. Not all of it though. Not enough that it might have mattered. If only.

"How'd it go?" she beamed at the two of us.

"I am not sure," Tam replied, pulling off her boots, "We dismissed many places, and even agreed upon an option in case we do not come to any solid conclusion."

Julie's beaming smile died down a little. "What does that mean?" she asked, "Have you got a recommendation to make or not?"

Neither Tam nor I seemed to be able to answer, continuing to get out of our clothes. We didn't want to let Julie down, even if we had only been at it a day. Eventually, when we had completed the task of disrobing and we were getting into bed, I gathered the courage to say the absolute truth.

"We don't," I said, laying down beside her, "Unless... well, would you like to live in Kirkwall?"

Our glorious leader's upper lip curled in disgust. "Kirkwall?" she whispered incredulously, "That cesspit?"

"It has much to recommend it," Tam said non-committally, "At least, according to Mariette de Villars." The Qunari climbed in on my side, leaving me in the middle. Which was something I appreciated, given the temperature the room would drop to in the night.

"Warden Hawke thinks otherwise," I added, closing my eyes.

The mention of Mariette de Villars coming up the idea may very well have been the final nail in the coffin, however. Julie grumbled to herself for a minute, thinking aloud and incoherently, before making her own declaration on the matter.

"Kirkwall is not suitable," she said, "We need to build something new, not to camp out on broken remains."

"Broken remains that the Prince of Starkhaven badly wants," Tam yawned, curling an arm around me, "Do we want to go to war over that?"

"Like I care what a prince thinks," Julie snorted, settling down on my shoulder, "I just don't want to live in a place with a reputation like Kirkwall's. Many of our families are expecting, remember? Is Kirkwall where you want them to give birth?"

I hadn't considered that angle. Sure enough, it probably would have taken years for us to fully pacify the city. The formative years of the Sahrnia Generation, no less. Suddenly, I felt like ruling it out completely come the next day, but the cynic in me again spoke, telling me that we couldn't do that without an alternative presenting itself first.

"No, it isn't," I said, answering Julie at last, "We're not done yet. I'll pass on your dislike of the place to the commission."

"Don't," Julie said sleepily, "I need to appear neutral, remember?"

And with that, she fell asleep, propped up against me. Tam already was asleep, in a similar condition. Feeling I had full permission to do the same, I fell unconscious like a switch had been turned, ready to take as many of the available forty winks as I could.

---

The meeting the next day did not go as smoothly as I hoped, despite me having chairs brought in for everyone this time. Comfortable, padded ones too.

The argument over Kirkwall resumed in full force, lasting over an hour. Those for taking the city, namely Mariette, Louise and Soprano, kept pointing out the benefits of both the resources available and the possibility of an early victory against Starkhaven. Those against, Hawke, McNulty and some of the Jaderite captains, maintained that the war inside the city would not be so easily won and that the inhabitants would likely not accept us as rulers.

The neutral parties, rallying around Mike for the most part, attempted to mediate the two sides. Settling near Kirkwall, settling in the Planasene Forest itself, seeing about splitting the city between the current inhabitants and our own people, all compromises were rejected, albeit politely and with appreciation for the attempts.

I was content to let this play out, simply because it was giving me plenty of rope to hang the idea with and let the officers blow off some steam.

Fisher was less patient than I was. He became increasingly agitated with the whole process, tapping his fingers on the table and speaking in harsh but quiet tones to Paulie Walnuts. Eventually, he cracked.

"Enough!" came the call, "This bickering is done. I'm Admiral of the Free Navy, and I say that Kirkwall is ruled out!"

The bickering did indeed stop... but only in anticipation of a far more vicious argument over the authority Fisher had to make such a call. The Army heads turned to me, the faces on them asking the unspoken question of 'Are you going to let him get away with that?' The Navy's people seemed to murmur to themselves, as if discussing how to react if my answer to that question was negative.

I was just glad the previous argument was over. "You heard the man," I breathed, shifting in my chair, "We've spent too much time on Kirkwall. We've heard each side's points three times on this. We're done. It'll be held in reserve, like I said before."

Mariette pouted, reminding me strongly of the fact that she was a good deal younger than I was. As if I needed more reminding. "What other option is there?" she said, "We ruled out the Planasene Forest, remember? When the compromise was proposed?"

I didn't fully remember, but I wasn't about to reopen that line of inquiry either by asking for the details. "Which leaves us what?" I asked, rhetorically. Before anyone could respond as if it were a real inquiry, I stood and looked over the map more closely. Taking a ballpoint pen out from my pocket, I began marking crosses next to the names and areas of the places we had rejected. I needed the visual aid to get a handle on it.

Rivain, Antiva, the Minanter, Wycome, Hercinia, Ostwick, the Ost Valley (or Val Ost in Orlesian), Kirkwall, and the Planasene.

That left pretty much nowhere available to us, barring a stretch of shore stretching from Ostwick to Hercinia, wedged between the continuing hills of the Vimmarks and the sea. Which I figured probably belonged to Ostwick too, if not Hercinia. Markham was also close, albeit at the other side of those hills. But there was one thing that caught my eye for the first time, as I examined it.

"What's this island here?" I asked, pointing to the place in question off the coast previously mentioned, "Does it belong to anyone?"

Mariette was at a loss or was pretending to be very well, but the Navy guys seemed to know. They looked at each other, not quite sure how to reply. They were avoiding telling me something. It annoyed me, and I clicked my tongue once, nodding that I understood they were doing so.

"Is it just too small?" I asked, "Or is it infested with man-eating sirens? What's the problem with this one?" For thirty-five, forty thousand, it was just big enough, in fact.

"It's the Ile des Chiens, Marquis," said Fisher, before translating his Orlesian, "The Isle of Dogs."

Tam let out a warning groan. She had heard of it, and what she had heard was far from what we were looking for.

"I'm guessing it's not called that because it's full of dogs," I continued, "Hell, if it was, I'd say we've found our spot."

"Oh, there's dogs there alright," Paulie said, again in Orlesian, "What else do you call sons of bitches?"

The pun got a good laugh, from both Army and Navy sides of the table. Even I smiled at it, half because it lightened the mood for the first time since the meeting had begun.

"So it's inhabited?" I asked, "By?"

I began drinking deeply from a mug of ale as I listened.

"No one lives there," Fisher replied, "But pirates use it as a storm shelter and a trading post for offloading goods to their Antivan fences. The bay there is the Bay of Dolphins, there's lots of sandy beaches for them to pull the ships up for repairs too, both on the island itself and along the coast of the Val Halla."

I nearly drowned in my ale at the last three familiar syllables, spluttering into my mug. I thought for a moment that I had misheard. The 'h' is silent in Orlesian, after all.

"Val what?" I coughed, "Repeat that those last words!"

"Val Halla," Fisher replied, again remembering that it was the Orlesian name for the place, "Valley of the halla. Loads of them running around there, Dalish too."

"It's been called that since at least the Fourth Blight," Mariette added, "I knew a gentleman in Ostwick who couldn't stop talking about how great the hunting was there. Said his great grandfather hunted in the same valley. Had to shove a bottle of Val Foret's finest into his mouth to shut him up."

That guy was also a Trevelyan, another coincidence. Between the Amells and the Trevelyans, we're getting a lot of those in this part of the retelling... But I digress. The name of the valley in Orlesian made me curious about the place, due to a parallel with a myth from Earth...

"Tell me about Val Halla," I said, leaning back in my chair, "Is it claimed?"

"Yes... and no," Mariette replied, "Ostwick and Markham have overlapping claims to the southernmost two thirds of the land, and Hercinia's nobles use their end of the valley for their own purposes, but none have exercised any power over the place in many years. They hunt there, that is all."

"For good reason," said Fisher, "It's full of threats. Hercinia's criminals to the north-east, pirates and raiders off the coast, darkspawn in the hills, Dalish and Qunari camping out in the forests... I saw the Qunari with my own eyes when I was off the Ile des Chiens a good few years ago, looked positively savage."

Tam hummed a deep note of thought. "There are no Qunari there," she declared, "Which means the ones you are referring to are Tal Vashoth. Kossith, is what we call the race I belong to. Qunari is a … political term. Vashoth are potentially more aggressive than true followers of the Qun, but perhaps are less dangerous to us, as they do not have blackpowder nor a fleet."

"Aren't you Tal Vashoth?" Soprano asked.

"I am... a different kind of Tal Vashoth," Tam replied, "I do not reject a code by which to live. I simply exchanged the Qun for the ideals of the Free Army, although it took some time and help for me to do so." She laid a hand on my arm, indicating that some of the help had come from me.

"These ones however are savages, as the Admiral has said," she continued, "Almost all of the Tal Vashoth do not believe in any code save for personal gain and pleasure. Not every single one, but enough that we should be wary of them."

"If they have no blackpowder and no fleet, I'm not sure we should be overly wary," Louise replied, "The darkspawn worry me more."

"So, if we moved there," I said, coming to the point, "Ostwick, Markham and Hercinia would do... what?"

"Nothing," said Hawke with certainty, finally intervening, "At least at first."

That certainty peaked my interest. "You've been there," I said, reading her like a book.

"The Admiral is correct," she replied, "There are darkspawn there. Old exits from the Deep Roads too. Not many of either, but enough to scare people away, especially combined with the other threats."

"I don't think the Ostwick nobility would appreciate a direct challenge to their ancestral claims," Mariette countered, "Even if the nobles of Markham are too busy putting their noses in books, those of Ostwick are fighters. They will resist"

"Commoners are afraid of the valley," said Hawke, to me rather than Mariette, "And Ostwick is more like Ferelden in how decisions are made. The city will not act unless the commoners are stirred up to do so, and you simply arriving would not be enough. The claims on the valley are the nobles' own, not the city's property."

"The nobles still rule the city," Mariette pointed out, "And outrage can be fabricated. I've done it myself enough times to be sure of that." Ain't that the damn truth, girl.

"Let them fabricate," said Soprano, "Ostwick's walls won't be any use to them in the field. Yesterday, you said they have a standing army. Today, I ask you a simple question; Have they got thirty thousand troops under arms, with firelances, cannon and cavalry?"

The harlequin just barely managed to restrain a glance of contempt for the obvious answer. "No," said Mariette, "They don't."

"Just as with Kirkwall, we can spill blood if it becomes necessary," said Soprano, "And while Ostwick may have many ties to other cities, will those alliances be honoured for something like this? Land of no value to anyone because of the threats within it, they can hardly complain."

She pointed to the hills framing the valley against the sea.

"These heights are just as good as the mountains north of Kirkwall for defence," she said, "And there's only a small gap for Ostwick to come through in the south-west. The valley is defensible from land, I can tell you that much."

"As can I," Hawke agreed.

It would have been cleared out years ago if that wasn't true. Mariette appeared convinced, holding her chin and scanning the map with her blue irises rapidly.

"So, General," I said, "You propose Val Halla as our destination?" Better that it not sound entirely like my idea, as far as the politics of it all were concerned.

"I would have before now, if I had known about the conflicting claims," Soprano replied, "The other dangers make it even more desirable."

"More dangers makes it more desirable?" Mike asked, "How?"

"The darkspawn, the Tal-Vashoth and the pirates are not actually dangerous to us," Soprano explained, "As long as we're vigilant. We have Grey Wardens, an Army and a Navy to deal with each of those threats. The real danger lies in the Marcher cities uniting against us. By taking land which two or even three cities claim, we're dividing the possible alliance that could be raised against us. The smaller dangers make it less likely that they'll do anything at all."

"Divide and conquer," I nodded, having come to a similar conclusion myself, "Keep them bickering over who actually owns the valley, and we'll buy enough time to become unassailable."

"But does the valley fulfil the needs that Julie set out?" Tam asked, "Truly?"

"It is fertile, if that's what you're asking," said Hawke, "Lots of green, despite the darkspawn."

"It wasn't," said Tam, "It seems to be relatively safe and defensible, thanks to the arrangement of dangers, it seems to be inoffensive to other cities' claims, because they all overlap, now you say it is fertile, despite having blighted creatures wandering around... It seems to be the almost opposite of what was requested of us, in almost every category. There's only one other thing. Is it close enough to Orlais?"

Fisher stood, and traced a line through the sea from the Bay of Dolphins to Jader. He counted something off on his fingers, and gave a satisfied tilt of the head. "It's close enough," he said, "Just close enough." Indeed, it proved to be so in quite dramatic a fashion.

"I'm not sure if we should approve or disapprove," Tam said, shaking her head.

"At least it's better than Kirkwall," said McNulty, "No dirty streetfighting."

"I think Hell would be better than Kirkwall at this point," I said, "So... does anyone have any concrete objections? Is there something here I'm missing that we can't reasonably overcome?"

Mike raised a hand. "How big is Ostwick's standing army?"

Mariette smirked. "Ten thousand."

The rest of the table found that number truly hilarious. Even if Ostwick had firelances, we could have crushed that many easily. Of course, they could still levy the peasantry like any other feudal kingdom, but I doubt that would raise their numbers to more than fifty thousand. Which would be difficult to beat in absolute terms, but probably wasn't sustainable for the Ostwickers to maintain for any real period of time.

"Gendarmes?" Louise asked her cousin.

"They are counted in the ten thousand," Mariette replied, "Only the Long Watch are worthy of the title of soldiers, but they very much deserve it. The High Watch and Close Watch are border guards and constables. They fight often, but not with real warriors." Or bards, for that matter.

"So, no real objections to Val Halla," I said, We have come to a decision?" Everyone seemed compliant, happy with it as far as can be.

"I believe we have, Marquis," said Fisher, speaking for the group, "I can organise a ship to investigate the Bay of Dolphins immediately."

"I'll do it," said Paulie, "I'm the only one with the experience to sail in this shit weather anyway."

Fisher grimaced, like he wanted to object, but had the common sense to keep a lid on it.

"Thank God," I said, "I'll inform the fraternity leaders."

"Do you think they'll approve of it?" Tam asked from beside me.

"Not my problem," I replied, "They asked us for a recommendation. We gave it our best shot. Better than 150 people arguing about it for months on end, I'm sure."

"Lucky you spotted the Ile des Chiens and asked about it," said Soprano, "Or we might have been here for much longer." Noises of agreement sounded from many throats at that.

"Actually, it was the name of the valley that got me thinking," I said, sloshing my drink in the mug. The origins of which were told to me as a child, inspiring my love for mythology of all kinds. Celtic, Viking, Greek, Roman, Native American... I couldn't help but want to pass on the tales.

"Since we have a good bit of beer left, let me tell you the story about Valhalla and the Valkyries..."

---

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story has just passed a triple milestone. It's now my most-favourited story, surpassing Battlefield 2183. It just went past 500 followers, which is amazing. And it is now on the first page of Dragon Age fictions on this site. All very encouraging signs for the quality of my writing! I'm very pleased.

Sorry to you all for not putting anything out in the past few weeks. I was on vacation, and then I got sick for a week and a half. Courtesy of a fine gentleman who sneezed on me on the plane when travelling home, I caught death. The wish to shove him out of the vehicle without a parachute was damn near overwhelming at the time! It's all the more so now.

A lot happens in this chapter. Not sure how else to put it. Probably in dire need of a rolling edit, which shall be done.

Either way, I hope you all enjoyed it!

Thepkrmgc: Sam's niece is probably going to be the protagonist of the sequel, in fact. I'm planning that to occur around the time period of the next DA game, so it's a long ways off yet.

As for your prediction, you're actually correct. But I ask you this: Who is the Lady of the Skies?

5 Coloured Walker: Gotta love those succession wars... at a nice centuries' long remove.

Katkiller-V: Got to first apologise to you for not reviewing your stuff of late, need to catch up on it.

Duration is indeed the problem. No shortage of instances of democracies falling to oligarchy and corruption, despotism following close behind.

Family and name always mean something. The Kennedys, the Clintons, the Bushs, the Churchills, etc etc. There's no shortage of dynasty play in democracies. But does that mean such things are no threat to democracy? That's the question at stake here.

Velarana is angling for something other than a revolutionary republic. What form exactly that will take, you'll have to wait and see. The British model is in the mix, but isn't the foundation.

I'm not sure Julie will start wars, if/when she wins, simply because she can't just stamp her feet and make public support appear in the Free Marches. She's a democrat and a republican, sure, but she's not an internationalist or a socialist. That'll come out more clearly in the next chapter.

And yep, harems are terrible ideas, and yep, Sam wants to put that aside because... doing anything else would force him to choose between people he wants to keep close.

Dekuton: I'm not sure Julie is like the nobles she has issues with, for one particular reason... She's called elections in which she could lose power. Sure, she's been ruling the entire army more or less as dictator since leaving Hearth, but that's something that was necessary. Objectively speaking.

Some of those voting may agree with you, however, because the necessity isn't so obvious to all.

As for the rest of it, the personality flaws and her love of the adoration, that's pretty much correct. Those flaws are shared by pretty much every leader on some level, I think. You don't get into those sorts of positions without having a little too much self-confidence in your abilities. You'd crumble as a leader otherwise.

Stormtide Leviathan, Lord Mortem Cheers!

Tusken1602: That's the vibe I was going for, so I'm very glad to hear that it worked. Thanks!

Zx: I hope you'll keep reviewing, always glad when someone does so particularly without an account.

The Maker: The Maker commands, and we obey.

Over the hills and far away!

Viper: Here's another, apologies in particular to you for the delay.

Twinbuster2: Inquisition is part of this fic. We're at the end of 9:39 at this chapter, so it's a little over a year until the Conclave. Inquisition characters will be thick on the ground from now on though, we're heading to the Free Marches after all (where the Inquisitors are all from).

Pyrojack: I'm glad you found it interesting.

Ironman088: Very high praise indeed.

Tmroc725: Who do you know/work with that has favourited this? I'm intrigued.

I'm surprised you can enjoy this without having played the games, to be honest, but I'll take it as a great compliment that I can write characters well enough for that to be the case.

Soprano was a candidate... but she's a general. Sam, to some remaining extent, likes to think of himself as a professional. Another obstacle for Mariette to jump, I might add... Who said that Mariette's getting in on the action to the point of having children? Just a premonition on your part? I'm tempted to spoil now on whether or not she does.

Velarana has her agenda, and the Admiral has his. Do they coincide? Not exactly. We'll see.