Ser Perth and four other knights of Redcliffe had been dragged by their armpits to the inner walls of the Chantry by the time everyone had realised how the undead army increased its numbers. Confused and injured, the knights had fought off the undead in the first night, nearly fallen in the second, and been grounded by Mother Hannah in the third despite their protestations. Now, upon Carver's invitation, they were raring to rescue the arl and his family.

"It's but a knee," Perth defended when Carver's eyes moved down. "We are the five of us knighted. I can draw a bow just as well as the others."

Carver didn't react. "Help him up."

Two Redcliffe knights picked Perth up until he could stand on his good leg and lean on his fellow knight for the other. The bandages around his left knee were dark, but not dripping. Unprompted, another knight geared Perth up with a hip quiver and a shortbow, then all five knights turned to face Carver with lifted chins.

"Hurry and wait at the windmill," Carver directed. "Once the warden's party opens the way, follow us in. You're responsible for watching our backs."

Relieved at not being stopped, Perth and the injured knights saluted and began their slow climb for the local windmill. Alistair spotted the event and caught Carver as the dark-haired boy passed the knights uphill.

"Nice helmet and gauntlets," Alistair heatedly whispered, "but that doesn't make you a soldier in Maric's Shield. You know I can't let you act irresponsibly, Carver. What are you thinking?"

"Warden Alistair," Carver nodded without slowing down. "Just who I'm looking for. Do you recall the embossed pattern of Bann Teagan's signet ring?"

"What?" Alistair spluttered.

"It would have been a golden ring on his left pinky."

"I know what a signet ring is!" Alistair confirmed. "What do you want with his fancy initials anyway?"

It wasn't Chantry or Ferelden tradition to maintain middle names, so Teagan must have been sealing documents with a wax "TG" before Connor's demon had halted all correspondence from Redcliffe Castle.

"If you're done helping the townspeople," Carver noted, "that means Elissa and the others are, too. The secret passage into Redcliffe Castle will be easier to find with more eyes now."

"Secret passage!?"

Leliana and Sten were setting up oil barrel traps around the windmill in anticipation of the coming night. The former quirked her lips at Carver as he fixed the helmet hooked to the side of his belt.

Carver threw her a look. "I got them off a dead soldier. Ser Perth and his men are aware," he emphasised for Alistair's benefit.

"A secret passage into Redcliffe Castle?" Leliana deduced from Alistair's flustered shout. "How exciting! No one has infiltrated that fortress since its construction. We'll be the first!"

Leliana, Sten, and Alistair followed Carver into the windmill, the latter of whom frowned. "How do you know we're going in?"

"A small force has to protect the town while another sneaks into the fortress," Leliana reasoned. "I do not see any of Mayor Murdock's people here."

Alistair side-eyed her. "And somehow, a group of four people qualifies as the other force?"

"Twelve," Carver corrected as they began combing the windmill's interior for letters the size of a fingernail. "Ser Perth and his men will guide us through Redcliffe's layout. Warden Elissa will direct our actions as the tactician. The rest of our party will stay behind to watch the passage entrance and the town."

Sten glanced at Alistair, who defensively hunched. "I prefer not being in charge, and Elissa is the other warden in this mission."

"Dog is coming," Carver continued.

Sten nodded in agreement.

Leliana perked up. "That makes eleven, then."

"The raven that rides Dog is twelfth," Carver explained.

Alistair pivoted with realisation. "Why again would Redcliffe's people leave the castle's rescue to outsiders like us?"

"They aren't," Leliana beatifically replied. "We're merely assisting Ser Perth and other Redcliffe knights in retaking the castle. At least, that's how we'll spin it when we ask Arl Eamon for a favour."

Carver and Alistair both froze in mid-search.

Leliana rose a brow at their shock. "Seizing an arl's legion isn't like separating mages and Templars. Redcliffe and its beloved arl have to be motivated to take orders from us by more than old treaties."

Carver coughed. He was actually planning to break into the castle with useful but limping Redcliffe soldiers in order to not just learn of the castle's situation first, but to also control it. Perth and the rest wouldn't be able to stop the warden's party from handling demons their way, if it came down to it. The party would also be able to control how information would leave the castle once they grasped the situation.

Which would be helpful if Elissa somehow, someways, caused the entire Guerrin family to die. Despite Carver's best efforts.

As the saying went — hope for the best, plan for the worst.

Still, good on Leliana for thinking farther ahead.

Carver nudged Alistair. "Shouldn't you be calling the others over to help us search by now?"

Elissa and the entire party eventually found Teagan's historiated initials tucked away at the base of the windmill's staircase. The Bann of Rainesfere's seal was apparently the letters "TG" within an apple tree, the bannorn's known flora. The design was cleverly camouflaged by mortar and rough, patterned stone. Depressing the carving's brick revealed an underground stairway.

Elissa made a sound of delight in the back of her throat. "How did you hear of this, anyway?"

"Discussed it with the Redcliffe knights," Carver vaguely replied. "In emergencies, a Guerrin would lead the castle's evacuation. We reasoned that this process could be reversed."

Embossing a brick was the safest way to confirm that the passage was known by the fortress's masters. Signet rings served as the forge-proof signature of nobles, reserved for critical documents and often destroyed with their owners' bodies upon death, and the Guerrin line was no exception. Redcliffe's arls must have overseen the windmill's repairs with every succession to learn of the passage and reseal it by hand. Or pinky.

After Orlais's occupation, Eamon must have seen the pragmatism of assigning his closest bann to the repairs of Redcliffe's peripheral infrastructure. Though the arl's brother, Teagan wouldn't be a foreigner's first suspect for Redcliffe Castle's chief architect. In the worst case scenario where an enemy seized Redcliffe Castle and held Arl Eamon as a hostage, Teagon could gather his forces as bann and reclaim the castle or rescue the arl, whichever was more prudent.

Now, Carver and the warden's party would be performing Eamon's contingency plan. With none of the intended characters involved.

Least of all the enemy.

"I'm surprised anyone would have thought to look for Bann Teagan's seal," Elissa chirped as the chosen members readied to enter. "Under an arl, banns aren't typically responsible for enough important documents to be recognisable by seal rather than signature."

Carver quickly deflected. "Alistair is apparently familiar with Bann Teagan."

Alistair flustered. "While I was raised by Arl Eamon, I came to also know his brother well!"

Leliana reliably latched on the telling detail. "Arl Eamon had his bastard aware of signet rings and their importance growing up?"

A resigned groan. "See…it's funny…I might be less a Guerrin bastard than a Theirin one…."

Perth and the other knights were fetched from outside the windmill while Alistair grudgingly laid out the exact circumstances of his childhood under Eamon. By the time the party of twelve entered the passage, Elissa and others jokingly called Alistair a royal bastard while the knights cluelessly followed them in, none the wiser of a truer meaning.

The invading team quickly found the undead soldiers of Redcliffe Castle, and in great numbers. Alistair and Elissa buffered the horde up front with their shields, Sten and Carver cut down attacks before they could land on the wardens' openings, Dog kited the possessed mabari of the castle, and Leliana shot down undead that slipped through with help from Perth and the other knights. The shambling enemies in the castle were at first manageable in straight hallways, but if a greater force was controlling them, it was obviously growing aware of the party's presence as the undead began running at them in waves from all sides. The party suffered yet another overwhelming attack before Carver's temper flared.

"Warden Elissa," he addressed in a room the party had secured for themselves. Everyone, especially the injured but wilful knights, was panting. "I suggest a change in approach."

"We need to call for backup," Elissa breathed heavily.

Carver tamped down a strangled noise. "Retreating now is inadvisable. The undead are pouring through the halls and chambers of this castle to find us. Rooms we've passed might become openings for them to stab us in the back." They had already tried. The party's head-on strategy wasn't effective in spaces with more than one entrance.

Elissa hissed with exhaustion. "Carver, page, I know you're nervous on a mission like this, but we must all try our best. Ferelden depends on it."

Carver let her passion slide off his back. He needed Elissa and Alistair to take any attention thrown the party's way while Carver could pursue his plans unnoticed, and leading the invasion of Redcliffe Castle would work against that. He also didn't doubt that half of Elissa's words were directed to herself, burdened as she was with an unpredictable role and mission.

Carver removed his helmet and exhaled. "I'm in agreement, Warden. From here, we should proceed as a stack of soldiers and treat each room as a pie."

Scattered blinks answered him. Alistair chirped. "Pie…?"

Carver nodded. At least he had their attention. "When a stack approaches a room's entrance, the third soldier of the stack sends Dog in to knock any enemies in the unseen sectors of the room off-balance, or at least disrupt any preparations they could have made. The first soldier or top of the stack then enters the room and determines if the first sector or visible slice of the room is clear of enemies. If it isn't, the first soldier claims that sector for clearing. Either way, what follows is that each subsequent soldier in the stack quickly enters the room and clears each unclaimed sector, until the entire room is clear of enemies. Rinse and repeat for every room."

It was a close quarters combat method that Carver had introduced to Maric's Shield, and had performed with his fellow Shielders a few times. However with varying sword reaches between warriors, the method was still rough. Carver daren't share it with a party who couldn't at least wordlessly understand how he'd move any more than he could them.

Strangely enough, however, Elissa's party had become a seamless space for him to silently move about. While they each differed in beliefs, some more than others, they could still fight back-to-back in the dark without fear. Elissa also already had the ingrained training to check her teammates' gear between fights, and ask them to check each other's. So long as Perth and the injured knights stayed out of the stack and watched their backs, and the four of the warden's party communicated, communicated, communicated, it was doable.

Again, the method was rough. Carver was replacing a modern-day frag with Dog.

"Communication is key," Carver said. This would be their first time doing this. "If your sector is clear, if an enemy's down, if you see a stairwell — share it all. We must each keep our eyes ahead of us so that as a party, we have no blind spots. Announce when you're coming up behind one of us so that we don't surprise each other."

Elissa hummed thoughtfully. "With Dog, I'll be the third soldier in the stack. Alistair, you'll be first."

The blonde shrugged. "I'm happy to follow your setup, but given this is Carver's idea, I prefer him leading the communication."

Elissa chuckled. "Ever the page, huh Carver? Very well, Alistair, you'll be second. Carver will be first."

Yeah, sure. They had the rest of Redcliffe Castle to clear anyway.

The party bashed their way down a hallway, then stacked up against the wall of a closed door. Carver patted Alistair's side behind him without looking and murmured for Dog, to which Alistair mimicked to Elissa behind him, and the woman moved to the side of the door where it would open.

With a quick twist of a doorknob, Elissa declared, "Dog! Go in, boy!" and everyone sprung into action.

They cleared and left the room without losing momentum. Then another room, then a hallway of rooms, until the party had developed their own shorthand communication with each other. Some of which made Carver want to cry.

"Doggo!" Elissa declared.

Dog burst in and the party cleared sectors.

"Go go go go!"

"Clear!"

"Room clear, what have you got?"

"Coming to you."

"Stairwell, stairwell."

"Clearing stairwell."

"Doggo!"

"Go go go go!"

"Clear!"

"Enemy down!"

In a flash, they were already taking the next floor of the castle with a cellar-full of the undead Guerrin legion behind them. Carver tossed a morose thought after Thedas's replacement for "frag out." Just his luck he would accidentally inspire the word doggo.

A woman's scream suddenly pierced the air.

"Dog, sit!" Elissa hastily barked.

The party entered the castle's kitchen to see dozens of coherent servants cowering before Dog. A man in Redcliffe armour stood between the canine and the servants with a sword raised at Carver the instant he stepped in.

"S-Stay back!" the soldier tremulously demanded.

Carver didn't waver. "Drop the sword."

"Begone, foul spirit!" the man screeched. "I'll not let you touch my family!" Behind him, a pregnant woman broke into fresh tears.

Perth and the injured knights limped in and gaped. "Ser Jory?"

Pieces clicked. Carver pointed his sword. "Drop the weapon, now."

"He's a knight of Redcliffe," Perth interceded. "One of our own! He'd never harm an ally."

"No?" Carver decided to play a little. "Then how is he the only knight in this castle who isn't a mindless, murderous corpse?"

Jory's face blanched. "I h-had nothing to do with this. I swear to the Maker! I'm just protecting my wife and unborn child!"

"And the other castle servants?" Carver stepped forward, lowering his sword but not sheathing it. "The cellars were remarkably well-maintained, last Ser Perth, Warden Elissa, and the rest of us have checked. Don't tell me while civilians were risking their lives just to get food from the cellar, you cowered in a kitchen with the pregnant women?"

Jory's sword shook in his hands. "L-Listen, I'm not—!" He sheathed his blade and held his hands up. "Lord Connor needs the servants to feed and serve Arlessa Isolde, so he isn't going to change them to undead. I have nothing to do with this!"

Elissa lowered her sword and shield. "Then how do you know all this? How can a boy of ten take command in place of the healthy arlessa, or turn others into undead slaves?"

Jory faltered, eyes shaking guiltily. "My wife, Helena, delivers meals to Arlessa Isolde's room. I heard it all from her."

Perth hobbled over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Years of tourneys have dulled your wits, Jory." The man flinched at the lack of title, and Perth sighed. "I revoke the knighthood I bestowed upon you, and return you to the rank of Sergeant. Should you faithfully keep my teachings in your heart, I know you will eventually earn your original title back."

Jory's crumbling expression recovered at the closing encouragement.

"He hasn't answered the question," Carver continued brusquely. The rank of sergeant was still two above the rank of page and came with an appropriately family-supporting salary, so Jory had little to complain about. "What foul spirit possesses Lord Connor, and for what reason would it not add the arlessa to its collection of undead?"

Jory's wife helped him into a chair, the shocked sergeant losing strength in his knees. "I'm fine, I just need to sit still for a bit."

"It began a day after the heavy clash in Ostagar," Helena instead offered. "Arl Eamon's closed eyes had twitched while I was replacing the sheets of his pillow. Frail optimism had lit among us attending the top floor of the castle, but Arlessa Isolde hadn't wished to raise false hopes. She had sent out a gag order on the event, banning even mention of Arl Eamon's condition, and Lord Connor…."

"Thought his father was dying," Leliana sadly deduced. "In desperation, he had reached out to a demon. It is a pattern as old as the tale of Flemeth."

The raven on Dog squawked dismissively.

Leliana continued. "In exchange for his parents' lives, young Connor surrendered his own."

The mood plummeted, and a few servants helplessly sniffled.

"What kind of demon is it?" Carver asked.

Helena hesitated. "I'm sorry?"

Elissa turned. "…What are you thinking, Carver?"

He slowly looked aside to the raven as if in thought. "Mm. Blood magic."

The Redcliffe servants, knights, and Jory all whiplashed at the suggestion.

Carver returned his gaze to Elissa. "A solution as old as the tale of Flemeth. With a concentrated lyrium potion and proximity to the possessed victim, a blood mage can confront a desire demon in the Fade."

Perth spluttered. "I know I speak for Redcliffe when I say we all deeply wish for Arl Eamon's full recovery. These are tragic times. But where, in the middle of a blight, will we find readily concentrated lyrium or a blood mage?"

The warden's party exchanged looks.

"As a Grey Warden," Elissa vaguely replied, "I assure you that a blight is the time for tales. Carver?"

Eh?

At the party's mildly expectant energy, a sudden realisation comfortably settled in Carver. Through a long journey of awkwardness, patience, and hard work, the eclectic members of the warden's party had left the neutral zone of feelings towards Carver and now considered him warmly, to an extent.

Elissa gestured. "Any suggestions on how we proceed from here? We have a possessed ten-year-old and his parents to secure in a castle. I'm open to ideas."

Carver glanced at Jory and Perth. "How much time do we have to breathe?"

"Half an hour," Helena answered. Strong woman. "Lord Connor never sends undead into the servants' quarters or the kitchens unless we are late in serving the arlessa. Her next meal is soon."

Carver thoughtfully sat on a nearby crate, and as if in unspoken agreement, everyone followed suit with ears turned in his direction. One of the knights closed the kitchen door behind him and slid its drawbar across, while two servants moved to the room's remaining entrances to take watch. Elissa was the only person to not sit and instead opted to lean back on a wall, unintentionally drawing the atmosphere's energy around her as the established warden and leader in the room. At least, Carver fervently hoped so. In this setting, he was merely an advisor at most. After all, who better to discuss party communication than a page?

"Our current method heavily relies on Dog to distinguish enemies from friendlies and civilians," Carver commented. "We're getting used to moving together without hesitating or looking over our shoulder, but we don't know yet how to handle rooms with both enemies and innocents inside. Dog can't impart on us a perfect picture of the room in the seconds before we enter it. I have some suggestions, but I'd like to hear your thoughts, Warden, seeing as you're leading this group."

Elissa shrugged. "I understand Dog just fine, but I see what you mean. We should find a way to steal a moment during battle to assess the room's layout."

"And risk getting stabbed while we're thinking?" Sten murmured.

"So the second soldier in the stack shuffles in," Carver offered. "Especially when entering a corner-fed room after the first soldier, it's key for the second to step up to the doorway, then swing their foot in sideways to centre their gravity while facing the side of the room. The weaknesses of our armour are the sides where the plates are joined; better to face threats straight-on if we have to pause and let our armour take the hit. Centering our gravity also gives us the perfect balance to brace against a sudden attack, or quickly make one before an enemy in front of us can."

"After that, we slice the pie," Alistair chirped.

"Starting from where we're facing straight-on," Carver nodded, "then inwards towards the centre of the room. With this technique, we might end up clearing rooms with only the first two soldiers. The rest of us in the stack would just be responsible for overflowing into closets or adjacent open rooms, and covering any closed doors we see. Then we split up into two-man teams to clear the rooms behind the closed doors. Honestly, speed is the most important factor here. No plan survives first contact against the enemy."

Perth hummed. "I might quote you on that, Page Carver."

"Not my words," Carver quickly denied, "and just Carver is fine." There were a lot of Carvers in Ferelden, right? Fortunately, Carver had kept his helmet on among this great number of people.

Elissa nodded, straightening. "Let's keep the same stack order as before. Anyone have questions?"

There were none, so the warden's party and Perth's knights swiftly snuck out of the kitchen for the arl and arlessa's chambers. The possessed Connor apparently frequented the ground floor of the castle, particularly the main hall, and a mass of undead undoubtedly followed him wherever he went. While the servants attempted to follow their daily routine without suspicion, and Jory remained in the kitchen to actually protect the pregnant and infirm, the invading party agreed to spirit the arl and arlessa away to the secret passage before challenging the worst of the undead army.

For that, they needed stealth.

Leliana made use of a key given to them by Helena. On either side of the doors she opened, two possessed soldiers stood guard. They were stock still and only followed Leliana with their eyes before directing their glazed looks ahead.

Around the corner of the hallway, Carver inwardly cursed. Rather than undead, possessed soldiers dazedly patrolled the top floor. Their markings were a mixture of Redcliffe and Rainesfere. Had Bann Teagan already attempted to sneak in with his soldiers long ago, and ended up ensorceled? It must have been before the undead army had started threatening the village. Rainesfere was a small bannorn between the Frostback Mountains and Lake Calenhad. With improved trade between Ferelden and Orzammar, it was possible that the improved merchant routes could have allowed the Rainesfere legion to march to Redcliffe with minimal hassle against roaming darkspawn. Though a bannorn's forces rarely amounted to much, a hundred armed soldiers made all the difference when travelling open roads.

Regardless, it was unexpected. On their way up, Carver and the party had encountered much of what he had anticipated, even the local blacksmith's daughter cowering in a pantry whom they had directed to the kitchen for safety. The change in detail reminded Carver of his ongoing internal struggle surrounding god and gamers. Which he was swiftly tamping down in the middle of a mission.

Leliana peeked into Arl Eamon's room with the bowed stature of a castle servant. Arlessa Isolde's warm meal sat on a tray in her hands.

"Arlessa—?"

"Stay away!" came a screech. "Don't come in!"

Leliana hesitated halfway through the door, then meekly closed it behind her as she entered. Carver and the rest of the party watched it with bated breath before the door soundlessly swung open. The two guards were then suddenly yanked into the room by their necks and silenced. Or knocked out, as it would seem.

Elissa stepped out from the corner to peer past the opened door. "Bann Teagan?"

Teagan and Isolde blinked at Leliana, the young castle servant who had mock-assassinated two soldiers — at Elissa, who was still sporting the Cousland armour and shield — then at the party behind her, which included markings of the Grey Wardens, Maric's Shield, and Redcliffe. Additionally, while Elissa had outfitted Sten with an unmarked helmet and armour, Asala was obviously qunari-forged steel.

Teagan caught Isolde as she fainted. The bann stammered. "Lady…Cousland?"

Leliana shed her servant robes to reveal her leather armour underneath. "Arlessa Isolde was apparently hiding Bann Teagan in her room until such a time he could sneak out of the castle — presumably through the secret passage we used."

Teagan twitched at the comment. "How did you—?"

"We don't have much time," Carver quietly cut in. "Where is Arl Eamon?"

Teagan gestured back into the room. "On the bed. You know despite your height, you sound awfully young for a soldier of Maric's Shield—"

"He got the armour off dead people," Alistair provided as he squeezed in for the arl.

Elissa followed. "He's baby-faced. Height is all he's got."

Sten strode over. "The Karashok excels at communicating in battle and little else."

Perth and the knights assisted Teagan with Isolde. "He taught us how to slice a pie."

Carver steamed under his helmet. "Let's just…trace our cleared path back to the kitchens…please…."