Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or Dragon Age
First chapter featuring Dorian, who will be a main perspective character for the majority of the fic. Plus the return of another Origins character and the introduction of an OC son of Perrin Thrennhold, his appearance based on Kureto Hiragi of Owari No Seraph.
Dragon Wars: Force of Others
Episode 23: Courtly Intrigue and plans
Tevinter was the capital of the Sith's occupation of Thedas, to some, whilst to others it was as it had always been. To Dorian, it was a mix of the greatest and worst places on the planet. A great empire had been forged, yet it had done so from what the elves left behind. The dread wolf destroyed the most powerful beings in Thedas, and Tevinter mages rose in their place. Using the teachings of the elves, they built their empire, taking slaves and using them as the builders. For every brilliant thing, something horrific was done to make way for it. Archon Hessarian himself killed the rebel Andraste out of mercy, but recognising the power of her religion, he converted to the Chant of light and from there on formed the Circle of Magi, laying the foundations of the Chantry as Thedas knew it. Or perhaps Hessarian truly did hear the voice of the Maker, or he simply believed in the original chant and wished to redeem the Imperium somewhat by gradually replacing worship of the old gods with the Maker. One of Dorian's tutors had told him after all that many of the truths people cling to depended greatly on their point of view. Dorian appreciated that kind of teaching, and it had guided him to understand others.
Because to many elves, the Tevinter Imperium were the worst culprits of the abuse of their people, their enslavement and systematic destruction of their history and culture. To many in the Qun, they were what was wrong with 'Bas' society, having put mages at risk of possession in charge of rule, and building their cities and culture off of the backs of slaves that had been forced to follow purposes they were ill suited to. The Southerners believed that the people of Tevinter were embodiments of evil whom practiced dark arts, brought the Blight and Darkspawn into the world, and worst supposed the ascension of the empire that destroyed their previous way of life. Even Dorian himself admitted that he was very much a person painted by his biases.
His earliest memory was of seeing slaves brought off of a Sith cargo ship. And at the time it didn't bother him, because it didn't seem to bother anyone else. The woman whom read him bed time stories in place of his mother was a slave, the elf man who would bake him delicious cakes was a slave, his first friends were the children of slaves. He attended the circle of magi, learnt about the dangers and advantages of blood magic and demonic chaining. At parties he would see the brutality of duels between Sith lords and their apprentices, and shrug it off as just another implementation of the rule of two. Dorian Pavus wanted to consider himself a good man despite these things, and he wanted to believe that the Imperium was full of good men and women whom avoided temptation as much as any Southerner did. If anything, from his point of view they were better than Orlais or Ferelden, as they lived in a place rife with corruption.
The young man tilted his head back, one of his Twi'lek groomers running a straight razor across his thin hairs. Her hand was calm, for she didn't fear her master. The Pavus's did not use fear, they treated their slaves as servants and the people under their protection. Indeed, Dorian learnt of bravery from his father, whom protected their slaves from fellow Magister and Sith lord alike. He walked down the steps of their front room and saw his father Halward dressed in his robes alongside his former Mentor Gereon Alexius, in the robes of the Venatori. They were a rising cult within Thedas, dismissed by the empire as intellectuals seeking the false rumours of a Darkspawn culture. Members of the group though did have access to the Empire's archaeological foundation.
"Dorian, still haven't shaved the moustache I see," Alexius shook his head and chuckled.
"I quite like it," Dorian said.
"It does age you son!"
"People will never mistake us for brother's father, I'm too handsome."
"You get it from someone," Halward smirked.
They climbed into the carriage, some things of the old age were kept and a lavish carriage was a luxury to turn up at for events. Well bred horses drew the carriage, driven by a loyal elf servant of House Pavus. Which meant that the three men could discuss their perspectives without fear of anyone learning of them.
"Felix found something in the Eastern territories, we reported to the foundation that it was a Darkspawn forge, not something the Sith are interested in," Alexius explained.
"But what was it really?" Dorian asked.
"Something older, something I believe Dorothea's hand will be interested in seeking," Alexius said.
"Ancient technology?" Halward asked.
"Felix wasn't entirely sure, he had to summon a perfect storm though to beat back automated defences, so it's certainly something no one wanted found by people who didn't have access."
"Very good Alexius, we'll have to inform our mutual friends in the South, I heard they recently attacked an off world mining facility, liberating some minerals and slaves," Halward explained.
"An impressive but dangerous course of action, let us hope it pays off for them," Alexius said.
The driver tapped the surface of the carriage, signalling that they were approaching the event. Coming to a halt at a mansion, the three men exited the carriage and walked down a red carpet. Security troopers marched on the grounds, and invited guests smiled for camera droids. Dorian scanned the crowd of people no doubt paid or threatened to cheer the arrival of the valued contributors of the empire's cause in Thedas. Upon entering the mansion, they were bombarded by the sight of incredible holographic images of super nova's bursting on the floor and space whales moving across the ceiling. A singer let out an enchanting melody, and Bith and Twi'lek servants held plates of fine food and drinks.
"What was this party for again? Thank you," Dorian smiled charmingly at a Twi'lek girl he took a glass of wine from.
"Prime Minister Tarkin recently announced the formation of the Thedas defence force, I believe he has put Perrin Threnhold in charge of it," Halward said.
"Threnhold, wasn't he..."
"Yes, former ruler of Kirkwall before the Sith arrived, one of the first to surrender to them, worked his way up through the military as opposed to taking a token governorship," Alexius explained.
"Yes, from what I heard he actually achieved the rank of captain," Dorian said.
"He's now Admiral Thrennhold, but I would have thought he wouldn't be here, too busy overseeing the construction of his fleet," Halward explained.
"Perhaps we should ask the Prime Minister himself," Alexius muttered.
They looked towards Minister Tarkin, a short man with a perfect military poise. His cheeks though were gaunt, and though he spoke to others politely, Dorian knew the man had little regard for 'underdeveloped' worlds like Thedas. He was a man who served the empire, and truly believed that it was working to perfect the galaxy.
"Prime Minister," the trio bowed their heads as the man approached.
"Magister Pavus, Alexius, I believe you are an Altus correct?" Tarkin asked as he looked at Dorian.
"Correct Prime Minister, are you enjoying the evening?" Dorian asked.
"The occasional celebration of the empire's achievements assists in morale. Once the defence fleet is fully assembled we will have a more formal military parade," Tarkin explained.
"Will the new Admiral be present for that?" Alexius asked.
"Admiral Thrennhold is overseeing construction of the fleet, his time at the Imperial academy gave him many ideas on how to improve the military forces under his command," a young man spoke from behind Tarkin.
He was a tall individual, dark haired and wearing a black uniform with white gloves, red highlights and two gold medals on the breast of his coat. From what Dorian saw of the young man, he was quite muscular, definitely the kind of muscle a melee fighter would gain. The curved sword on his belt was a giveaway too.
"Captain," Alexius looked at the man in confusion, knowing his rank from the bars on his shoulder, but little else.
"Thrennhold, Fausten Thrennhold, at your service Magisters," the young man bowed his head.
"Fausten?"
"I was named after a rival of my father's."
"You are Admiral Thrennhold's son?"
"Adopted son yes, I have been in service to the Imperial army off world, I was awarded a captain rank after a battle in the border territories," Fausten explained.
"HA!" a Sith lord threw his head back and looked at Fausten in disgust.
The four military officers around him laughed too. Fausten remained silent, unbothered by the fact people were looking at him with amused expressions.
"I wonder which Sith lord came to favour you," the lord chuckled.
"It wasn't a Sith Lord, an apprentice actually, all I know is that I fought alongside him, a few days later he personally requested me to captain his ship," Fausten explained.
"Which fool wanted the caveman?" the Sith Lord asked and his entourage laughed.
"I believe his name was Malgus!"
The Sith Lord and the other military men suddenly grew silent, looking at Fausten with very different eyes. Fearful, sympathetic, Dorian had trouble telling, all he knew was that they suddenly had very different opinions about Fausten Thrennhold's military career and abilities.
Ferelden borders
Alistair and his party had fled the borders of Ferelden with Loghain's company. He split the rebellion into three groups, one led by Anora and the other Eamon. The bulk of the prisoners they had freed and taken went with their group. Chantry priests (wearing the original robes, not Imperial red and black) gave out food to the non-combatants first. The Northern men caused a commotion when they tried to take the food by first.
"We eat first!" the ring leader said.
A short fight broke out, during which Oghren head butted one of the taller men in the crotch and Sten grappled with another. They stopped fighting over the food however when the Wookie leader let out a great howl of rage. She then helped the priests give out the rest of the rations. Alistair took the bowl of slop for one specific prisoner. His half brother, former king Cailan, technically deposed by his own people. The now dirty haired, one armed man gave off the impression of a broken man.
"Here," Alistair placed the bowl by his bound legs.
"Give it to someone else," Cailan said.
"I'm sorry it's not fine dining," Alistair huffed, leaning against the wall and eating his protein bar. "They made this from cockroaches you know," he said with his mouth half full. "I've seen the machines at work, in between Knight-Trooper training I had a choice between sanitation or cleaning the food synthesisers. Big machines that mixed ingredients together. Crickets, cockroaches, beetles, I realised then that the Empire feeds the downtrodden bugs, mashed together into a bland but cheap and sustainable bar. I was both disgusted and impressed, a lot of nutrients for a low cost."
Cailan remained silent, the slop bubbling in front of him. His once tanned skin was pale and his cheeks gaunt from malnutrition. In the past, Loghain had some men forced water and bread down the former king's throat. There came a point however when Loghain just stopped caring and focused on other matters.
"I'd imagine you're used to better food, pies, casseroles, that blue milk stuff, never actually tried that, what is it like?" Alistair asked.
He finished his ration and crossed his arms, shaking his head in dismay.
"Not a lot of people would care if you starved yourself to death," he said.
Cailan nodded his head, bangs of his hair hanging over his eyes, dark rings had formed from a lack of sleep.
"You don't have military Intel, and the empire doesn't really care about you, so we'll get no ransom and we can't trade you for anyone," Alistair stated.
"Then why am I alive?" Cailan asked.
"Ah so you do talk, finally decided to grace the bastard with a statement, a grunt doesn't really count," Alistair said.
"Leave me alone!"
"Oh but we're getting on so well, I was already thinking of naming one of my children after you, 'the pathetic one'."
"What do you want?" Cailan demanded.
"What do you want?" Alistair retorted, turning to Cailan fully and looking down at him. "Do you want to go back to pretending you were a hero? Because that was never true. That the empire is improving things? Maybe, but at what cost? And does that justify its treatment of people? Why should people be grateful when for every advancement and grand achievement there's also untold abuse and barbarism elsewhere?"
"Our world was...imperfect," Cailan coughed, a small tear falling down his cheek.
"Yes it was, and yes in some ways it did get better, but your best friends blew an entire region apart to test a new toy, and they did the same to our home. Because their response to dissent was 'blow it all up', a very productive way of getting rid of your problems," Alistair explained.
"I know, I was the king of Ferelden, I was supposed to protect it, but you...you led them," Cailan looked up at Alistair and he saw the same awe in his half brother's eyes as he once had.
The awe he had when he thought that he was serving the greater good, when he thought the empire was truly righteous. He shook his head and walked away.
"I'm just the bastard of a king, not a prince, and certainly not a king," he muttered.
He kept walking until he crossed paths with Loghain's lieutenant Cathrien.
"Loghain wants to see you," she said.
They went outside of the cave that the rebels were staying in, taking a short path into the woods. Some of the men sat on the border, using scan guns or spy glasses, or just their eyes too look out for enemies. The sight reminded Alistair that they were a army that had no uniform, no permanent source of equipment and were using whatever they could get their hands on. When he saw Leliana standing at a camp fire with Loghain and some of his men, he knew she had probably just tried to convince him of pursuing the artefacts of the ancients.
"You all fought well a few days ago, good job hitting the supply lines," Loghain said.
"Go to the local towns, undercover, and learn what you can about the people's perception, try to get some more food, hunt whatever's available in the woods or steal from the crops. Take however many people you'll need and meet us at the Anderfells border," he explained.
"Lord Loghain, with respect I think you could assign that kind of work to someone else, and it wouldn't be right to steal from honest farmers," Leliana said.
"An army needs food to eat, during the Orlesian occupation Maric and I got it where we could, if people didn't donate then we regrettably stole it, it meant there was a season they didn't make any money but our people got to eat and be strong for the next battle," Loghain explained.
"I understand," Alistair said before Leliana could speak.
"My lord, when you formed the alliance, you said that we would be seeking the lost technology, that we would be looking for a way to tip the balance. Or was that a lie for morale?" Leliana asked.
"Watch your tongue," Cathrien snarled.
"Enough, none of us are going to do anything unless we get something to eat first. For all their strength, the Wookies are a big drain on our rations too, and the Northerners are too aggressive, if I send any of them to secure food, we'll have bloody fields. I'm trusting this to you two," Loghain looked up at Leliana and Alistair, the latter of whom nodded his head.
"Secure food first, and then we can get to the real work," he said. "Is there anything else?"
"There is in fact, during the battle for Ferelden, you used the force to take control of two dragons," Loghain said.
"Is there anything left of Ferelden where dragon's could be?" Alistair asked.
"And island off of the Storm Coast, apparently there was a Vinsomer there," Cathrien said.
"We have need of its power, and if at all possible, I want you both to try and teach others how to use it," Loghain said.
"The two of us barely know much about the force ourselves, we can't just use it like that!" Leliana waved her hand as she spoke.
"I could teach you!"
Cathrien drew her sword and Leliana pulled out her A180 blaster pistol. A figure stood by one of the trees, he had long, grey, unkempt hair and a messy beard. He was wearing black trousers with brown boots, pads of armour had been attached to the shins of the boots. Over his brown and white shirt, he wore a green and purple robe, a belt on his waist attached a trio of scrolls to his hip. Pads were on his elbows, and purple guards rested on his shoulders. In his left hand he held a staff, a green jewel glowed between the shaft and the pronged tip of the staff.
"Irving," Leliana said with respect in her voice.
"You only recently got your magic back, and it is very different from the Force," Loghain said, looking at Irving sceptically.
"I can provide them with a basis, an understanding of the force, and methods to use it as a mage would use mana. Everything else they'll be able to figure out on their own, and I've solved our water issue," Irving stabbed his staff into the ground and held out his hands.
Fire glowed in his left, and ice shivered in his right. He put both hands together, and like a tap water flowed from out of his hands, fire melting ice.
"I've already had the young apprentices amongst the group fill canteens and jars," he said.
"Thank you Irving," Leliana bowed her head respectfully.
"Actually, the idea was Daylen's, he always said mages could provide water if they were allowed to."
A sullen look suddenly crossed the man's face and Leliana touched her heart in sympathy. He had been Daylen's teacher, before the Sith made him tranquil in an attempt to anger Daylen. When the mages of the Ferelden circle attacked a Star Destroyer, and a super weapon of the Sith, Daylen used the force to sense what was happening in the battle. Feeling the deaths of his closest friends pushed Daylen to unleash a powerful force wave. That wave had the affect of healing Irving's tranquillity, erasing the brand from his forehead, restoring his emotions and his connection with the fade. Despite telling everyone that Daylen had died with the other mages, Irving did not believe it, Leliana could sense that much from him.
"And if I may be so bold Loghain, there is truth to what Leliana says, Alistair is too respectful to say so himself but he also believes that their priority should be finding the lost secrets," Irving explained.
"What do we know?" Loghain asked, rubbing his eyebrows in frustration.
"Dorethea recently contacted me, a Tevinter cult was able to find a door in the Deep roads, it had some form of automated defence system," as Leliana spoke, an orange gauntlet of energy covered her hand. "This key unlocked the information cache we unlocked after the battle of Ferelden, who knows what we'll find at this new one, more information, or perhaps weapons."
"It's all well and good hitting supply lines and spying, but if we don't do something, we'll lose our relevance, that's why we need to recover our strength and carry out a new operation. The Winter Palace, with elven anger over the destruction of the Dales so high, we'll have ample motivation for the recruits we have and the recruits we'll gain. This operation would also be particularly important because we would be working with the Orlesian resistance," Loghain explained.
"Led by Gaspard De Chalons, I see, a hero of Ferelden, and a hero of Orlais, two nations that were once enemies working together against the Sith," Leliana mused.
"We seize a military target, and as you presume bard yes, we would be showing the other nations that we can work together to achieve a mutual goal," Loghain said.
"I didn't expect you to put your pride aside," Irving said.
"Fuck my pride!"
The three Fereldans widened their eyes slightly at Loghain's tone and stance. He stood up and turned away from the fire.
"I've seen worse than the Orlesians, that's not to say I've forgiven them. But in this war, we must make allies, even if it goes against our traditions," he explained.
Irving nodded his head in agreement. Alistair bowed his head and walked away, Leliana following close behind him.
"Food Alistair, we could be getting weapons," Leliana said.
"We reached a compromise Leliana, the people under our care need supplies more than weapons, so let's get Zevran, Oghren and Sten and start getting to work," Alistair explained.
"Wait for me you two, my knees aren't quite what they were," Irving called to them, following behind, a smile on his face and his head held high.
Minrathos
Once a long time ago, Dorian thought that the Sith had changed very little about court. Then his father reminded him of days past, of the difference between Tevinter back then, and Tevinter now. On the surface, the Sith court seemed very similar, people smiling and laughing, drinking exotic beverages whilst discussing trade deals and whispering of plots against rivals and ways of gaining prestige. But just underneath, Dorian could sense the difference. It had nothing to do with any force sensitivity, Dorian's force potential was considered low at the academy. His father barred him from any kind of military service beyond relief work. For underneath the smiles and plotting of a Sith court, there was something truly disturbingly unnatural about their intrigue. In fact, the Dark side was a pathway to abilities most would consider unnatural.
Dorian watched him walk through the crowds of the people. A Sith lord, older than any human man should be. Study of the dark side had kept him alive, hatred kept him alive, and probably made him stronger than any young man. Yet, the Sith Lord was a grotesque monster physically. His skin was deathly pale, sagging at his cheeks, multiple wrinkled rings decorated the black orbs around his eyes, eyes that flared between yellow and orange. Burning, frightful eyes that made Dorian shiver. Dorian considered himself a tolerant individual, but he saw only evil in eyes like that.
"Is everything alright Dorian?" Halward asked.
"Yes father, my attention was drawn elsewhere that's all," Dorian said.
"Careful where your eyes wander Dorian," Alexius whispered to his former pupil.
"So Magister Pavus, when will we expect your son to be taking up more responsibilities at court?" one of the other Magisters asked.
Magister Danarius, he was wearing red and black robes with silver and gold armour. Halward often spoke of him and the vile treatment of his slaves. Before he was noticed by the empire, he carried out an outdated and barbaric tradition. He had the strongest males of his slaves compete against one another, the last survivor would be awarded the 'honour' of having Lyrium infused with their body. The method was similar to the way Dalish elves tattooed their faces, though it extended to other parts of the body. Dorian had heard it was an extremely painful process that could often affect the mind of the person undergoing it. An elf was the last person to take part in the competition, and had spent some time as Danarius's bodyguard before he apparently escaped. Danarius was then inducted into the Sith research division.
"Two legions of lyrium infused soldiers were produced this last year, ready to be deployed to battlefields in the border worlds of the empire," Danarius boasted, drinking the blood red wine imported from another world.
"Two legions, I know of how much lyrium gets exported off world Magister Danarius, even if enough was put aside where would one get the numbers, surely they're not volunteers," Alexius explained.
Danarius smirked and had his bodyguard, a tall Devaronian pour him another glass.
"There is a synthetic form of lyrium," he said.
"Impossible, if the empire had figured out a way to create their own lyrium, what use would they have for us?" Dorian asked.
"Every person in this room knows the other valuable resource our world offers young Pavus, besides synthetic lyrium is inferior to pure lyrium. As for the numbers, the empire has resources besides recruitment and slavery, tell me, what do any of you know of cloning?"
Neither could tell if the man was joking. Suddenly, they were drawn to the sound of goblets and cups clattering to the ground. A few camera droids floated around the ruckus. Two Sith acolytes were glaring at Fausten, the young man standing to attention, despite a red light sabre being pointed at his face.
"I meant no disrespect," he said.
"It doesn't matter what was meant, you made your opinion quite clear," the one with their sabre pointed at him said.
"What is the meaning of this?" Tarkin demanded.
"Stay back Tarkin, this is beyond you, for we are Sith, masters of the force," the second acolyte ran a surge of force lightning through his finger tips.
"I was simply raising a point that use of the force was not a guarantee of victory, if an opposing faction has ..."
"You truly believe the mediocre dullards of the galaxy can match the power of the force, of the Sith?" the first acolyte demanded.
Fausten let out a sigh, his hand slowly going to the hilt of his sword.
"I acknowledge that I am a simple captain, however, considering this is simply an interpersonal debate, you have no grounds to attack me, if you both continue then I will be forced to defend myself," he said.
The two Sith looked at one another, before laughing. A few of the other Sith in the room laughed as well, rolling their heads back or clutching their sides. Suddenly, the two Sith ignited their sabres. Fausten moved his arm, drawing his sword and cutting through the first Sith's sword wrist just as he ignited his sabre. He then ducked, avoiding the second Sith's clumsy swing. With a swing of his own sword, Fausten beheaded the man, the head rolling like a statue at Tarkin's feet.
"What is the meaning of this?"he demanded.
Fausten flicked the blood off of his blade and sheathed it. He reached into his coat pocket and removed a Holo communicator. Clicking the side of it, the image of an officer appeared.
"Captain, we've received a communication, to be handled with discretion," the officer said.
"Very well," Fausten said.
He put the communicator back into his pocket and walked past Tarkin. The shorter man grit his teeth together, looking to the other Sith lords around him. They were no longer laughing, in fact, some seemed impressed. Those local to Thedas regarded Fausten with pride. He had shown the Sith overlords that despite their use of the force and the amazing destructive potential of the light sabres, warriors of Thedas had trained with the sword as well. Dorian followed the man, winking to his father as he passed him.
"Captain Thrennhold," Dorian called to him.
"Yes Lord Pavus," Fausten turned to him respectfully.
"Despite my father's insistence of avoiding official military service, I am well trained in the application of magic to combat," Dorian explained.
"Yes, I believe you were the top of your class in staff kata, very well, I would be honoured to have you accompany me," Fausten said.
"Thank you," Dorian grinned as he scratched his hair. "To be honest, I wasn't expecting you to say yes."
"We don't have any mages in our unit, the Thedas defence force is thought of as a joke," Fausten stated as he and Dorian walked out of the manor and along its grounds.
Droid remotes and cameras avoided their path, as Dorian recalled it was the direction of the shuttle pad.
"Mud troopers is the non official designation of our military force, I petitioned for some mages, but was unfortunately refused by the Archon," Fausten explained.
"What does happen to all the mages recruits? I've heard some are inducted into Sith academies, to be taught the ways of the Force," Dorian shivered mockingly.
"The force is very real, and very powerful Pavus, perhaps you'll see it in action soon," Fausten said.
They got closer and closer to a Sith shuttle, where a Twi'lek in an officer's uniform waited.
"Keevan, this is Dorian Pavus, he'll be joining us in our mission, get him an Acolyte's armour and a staff," Fausten said.
"Yes sir!"
Dorian took one last look at the ground. He had just realised he had volunteered to go into space. It made him beam on the inside, he would be the first member of his family to leave the planet.
'Let's see what the Thedas 'Defence' force is up to,' he thought as he stepped onto the ship.
Alistair looked through the scope, at the stars, seeing ships take off. He walked to the side of the cart, helping Sten help the donkey push it. Leliana carried behind her a wheelbarrow with two sacks of grain in it, covered by a few blankets. It had been her idea to raid the farms under cover of night, hitting a few patches through stealth and taking what the rebellion would need. No violence, no confrontation, though Zevran and Oghren apparently got shot at by an archer. They managed to get away though with a barrel of ale and a goat. Irving though had yet to come back, and Alistair wondered if they had made a mistake bringing the old man along.
"Is everything all right?" Leliana asked him.
"I don't feel much like a hero," he said.
"We're rebels, not heroes," Zevran said.
"You know what I mean," Alistair groaned.
"I do," Leliana nodded her head. "I've made my mistakes, done things for the resistance I wasn't proud of, this however isn't one of them."
"How can you say that Leliana?" Alistair asked.
"You would have preferred asking them? Well here's the dilemma, if they refuse then we may come to blows, or they would report us to the local imperial forces. Then there's the issue if they accept, they become rebel sympathisers, targets of the imperial forces. Until we have the strength to protect everyone, we may have to be the villains for a little bit. It isn't right, and it isn't what he would have wanted, but it is what it is," Leliana explained.
Alistair lowered his head and let out a deep sigh, he was wide awake yet felt tired. They came to a hilltop, drawing their weapons when they saw a cloaked figure waiting for them.
"Well, is that anyway to welcome an elder?" Irving asked.
"Damn you old man, lurking like that," Oghren grumbled.
"What did you get?" Leliana asked, noting how Irving wasn't carrying anything heavy.
He produced from his cloak a bowl.
"Seeds, the most valuable thing for the future," Irving said.
"We were busting our asses to get food and he gets fucking seeds," Oghren stormed off, cursing and throwing his arms about.
"Seeds," Leliana looked at the bowl sceptically.
"Turnips, cabbages, potatoes and carrots," Irving smiled despite the shake of Alistair's head.
"For the future," Sten said.
"The future," Leliana rolled her eyes, then corrected herself. "For the future," she looked at Irving with an apologetic look.
"For the future," Alistair slowly nodded his head.
They would have a home base in the future, and they needed seeds to grow their own food. Irving's first lesson to them, patience, care and perseverance were needed to ensure that the rebellion would grow.
Next Episode 24: 13 the broken
Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. Next time we return to a galaxy far, far away.
