Maxwell and the others had be trained by specialists with different fighting techniques. Finding the correct technique for them was challenging, but eventually they learned new skills. Maxwell had learned the art of assassination, Adaar had learned the art of becoming a reaver, Erdic had learned how to become a champion and Ellana was now studying to become a rift-mage.
After his training Maxwell found Blackwall at the stables, carving away on what looked to be… a toy rocking griffin.
"This? This is just…" he said as he set his tools down. "It's something to keep the hands busy. I'm grateful you tracked me down when you did. As exciting as wandering the woodlands was, this is better. It's good to be part of something so important, something that could change things."
"The Grey Wardens are huge and important. You're part of that," Maxwell pointed out.
"True. But without a Blight on the horizon, everything Wardens do feels like… waiting," he said as he picked the tools back up and began carving again. "This, the Inquisition, is what matters now. And I'm grateful to be a part of it." He blew some saw dust away. "'You are who you choose to follow.' Someone told me that once. Took me years to understand what he meant."
"There's wisdom in that." He followed him as he walked towards the fire.
"It was a chevalier who said those words to me. A powerful man, but never without honour. A true knight. We met as competitors in the Grand Tourney. He left me with that advice before we parted. Put aside his own ambitions to help me win the melee. I don't think I ever thanked him."
He remembered after taking part in one of them and took down his elder brothers, erupted in their faces for years before he joined the Chantry. "How did he help you?"
"There were a hundred men on the field. Each one fighting for himself. The goal? Down as many opponents as possible. He always let me deliver the final blow."
"That was generous of him."
"When it was over, he offered to mentor me, to teach me to become a chevalier like him." Regret filled Blackwall's voice. "And I, young and stupid, turned him down flat. I'd just won the melee at the Grand Tourney. I didn't need him. I should have gone with him. Perhaps things could've been different."
"Different doesn't always mean better," Maxwell reminded.
Blackwall chuckled. "In that case, I would think it would've been better." He picked up the tools again. "But I'm older, hopefully wiser, and I think I've chosen the right person to walk with."
"Have you talked with Theron?" Maxwell asked.
"Traded a few stories, but compared to his mine are nothing," said Blackwall. "Though I can see why many people look up to that man and not because he saved everyone from a Blight. He is determined, compassionate and open-minded, rare thing in this world."
Adaar made her way to Iron Bull, who had already got a drink ready for her.
"Hey, good to…" He stopped and began to sniff. "Hunh. Are you using a new soap or something? Got one of those scented bath things? Because I don't want this to sound weird, but you smell really good. Almost dragony." He then rubbed the back of his neck. "All right, that sounded weird."
"I've started training as a reaver," Adaar explained. "Part of the process involves drinking dragon blood."
"Okay, that probably explains how increasingly hot you smell right now. I've heard about reavers. Brutally effective, get meaner the more they hurt?" He smiled blissfully. "Warriors after my own heart."
She then sat down and took a drink. "I've noticed that your fighting style has a lot in common with a reaver. Are you…?"
Iron Bull shook his head. "No. Guess I stumbled on a similar style. I've always been good at reading people. Part of that is knowing how to make 'em flinch. They can hit me. They can hurt me. But they can't beat me."
"You don't have any trouble with reavers, then?" Adaar enquired.
"Not with their fighting style, anyway. I care more about the why than the what." He then looked at her curiously. "So… why'd you start drinking blood?"
"Maybe I wanted to smell better for you," Adaar smiled as he took a sip.
Iron Bull laughed. "Well, as someone who spends a lot of time downwind, I appreciate it."
Adaar smiled at him. She then decided that this was probably her best time to ask more about the Ben-Hassrath. Her father didn't tell her everything and she had to say that she was curious.
"I like to know more about your work with the Ben-Hassrath," she said.
"Ben-Hassrath is actually a general term. You've got the secret police who investigates problems inside territorial," said Iron Bull as he placed his tankard down. "You've got the re-educators who take people with problems and fix them…" He then looked at Adaar slightly uneasily, "or make them disappear. And then you've got the spies."
"How do the re-educators work?" Adaar frowned, her parents told her very little about them, but from what she could gather it wasn't pleasant.
"I only are the basics. Wasn't my area. That said…" He took another swig of mead and then looked at her straight in the eye. "Keep a man awake long enough, ask the right questions, given the right potions, and you can get in to say anything. You don't need blood magic or demons to change someone's mind. We're a lot weaker more fragile then we'd like to believe."
"My parents told me stories about what the re-educators did," said Adaar.
Iron Bull nodded. "Yes… You were lucky your parents got away. The weak mind can get bent into the right shape. Strong minds like yours…" He took a deep breath and continued, "they given you a poison called Qamek. You'd have been a polite, happy labour for the rest of your life. And you'd have a handler to help you eat and make sure you didn't crap your pants."
Adaar then looked him straight in the eye. "And you're a spy."
"Close. I am now, I suppose, but that's not how I started. They send me to Seheron because they needed someone who could fight and hunt down problems. That whole island was a sack of cats. Incursions from Tevinter, Tal-Vashoth, and native rebels fighting both sides…" He sighed. "And in the middle, me, trying to wrangle the rebels and restore order."
"I can't imagine that was easy," said Adaar.
"Nope," Iron Bull then took another sip. "I hunted down a lot of rebels. Lost a lot of friends to the Vints, or the fog warrior's, or the Tal-Vashoth. One day I woke up and couldn't think of a damned reason to keep doing my job. Turn myself into the re-educators."
Adaar stared at him. "Not many people would have the courage to do that."
Iron Bull shrugged. "I thought about letting some rebel kill me, but I can give any of those bastards the satisfaction. The Ben-Hassrath ordered me to go to Orlais, ostensibly as a Tal-Vashoth, and work undercover. That's how I ended up here."
Adaar looked at him. "I'm glad you're here, Bull."
Iron Bull smiled. "Me too."
Adaar then got up. "If you need to talk more about all this, let me know."
Iron Bull shook his head. "Nah. It was a long time ago. Thanks, though."
Maxwell then returned to the Western Approach with a party, he was going to expect the fortress that they had taken over. Already the Inquisition had done a good job to restore the fortress, he soon found the man in charge.
The man in charge was Cullen's second in command Captain Rylen and he seemed to be doing a good job with his post. He mentioned a bout bandits and the warden fortress, low water supplies and worst of all there have been sightings of darkspawn.
They had just taken out the varghest that was guarding an oasis where they needed the water from. Erdic could hear Sera and Blackwall chatting from behind him as they made their way back to the fortress.
"Look at you, all serious. What do Wardens do when there's no Blight anyway?"
"Whatever it takes to keep the world safe." Blackwall shook his head at Sera fondly.
"Like join Inquisitions." Sera waved her bow.
"If that's what necessary." He jabbed her lightly in the shoulder. "Hey, you're here too."
She laughed. "The Inquisition can't be all broody beards like you and Cassandra."
"She doesn't have the hair for it."
"Oh, I'd bet she does. Places." Sera gestured lewdly.
Cassandra gave them a scandalised look. "That's enough!"
Sera just cackled harder. "Knew it!"
Once they got back Maxwell and Ellana took Cassandra, Dorian and Cole to an ancient tevinter laboratory.
When they got there they found the most unusual thing a large rift was in the middle of the room and all around them demons and venatori were all around frozen in time. There were several other venatori, but they must adjust came after them after a quick skirmish they began to examine the room.
They made their way deeper into the ruins and they discovered ancient tevinter manuscripts about dragons, but it was so ancient that Dorian was unable to translate for them. As they got in deeper they soon discovered the source of the time anomaly, it was some sort of staff at the venatori try to acquire.
The moment that Ellana moved it from its pedestal time was flowing again in they to fight the way out of the lab.
Adaar had taken Solas, Blackwall, Varric and Iron Bull to find the source of the darkspawn. They discovered that the venatori and created an opening that allowed them to enter. Solas had decreed a blockade to prevent them from emerging.
Iron Bull turned to Blackwall. "Hey Blackwall. What's the most limbs you've ever cut off something in one swing?"
"For the Wardens, battle is a sacred duty, a vigil kept to guard the world against destruction. It's not a game."
"Right. Same here."
They'd only gone a few more steps before Blackwall glanced back at Iron Bull. "Do heads count?"
"Heads absolutely count."
"Then…" Blackwall considered a moment. "Three."
"Nice! Down on the collarbone and through, right? That's how I get the good ones."
They hadn't just discovered darkspawn and venatori, but a giant as well. After a massive battle they emerged outside and managed to locate clues that lead them to a venatori, who had been smuggling artefacts without Corypheus.
It was a tough battle, but the eventually managed to kill all of them save for the ling reader. Adaar decided to take the man prisoner, they might be able to use him.
Once they all met up at the fortress they discovered that they had everything in order to attract the dragon. They found Frederic, presented them with their findings including the transcript did manuscript that they found in the old ruins and he pointed them to the location where he wanted the bait to be placed.
Maxwell thought that it was crazy, for them to attract a dragon, but they couldn't allow her to roam around while the venatori had their eyes on her. It came to anyone surprise at the high dragon the moment it saw them.
The dragon made another pass. Both Ellana and Solas poured strength into barriers. Adaar, Cassandra and Iron Bull dove out of the way of its fiery breath. Maxwell used his stealth and his new assassin techniques and managed to distract the beast from behind.
Then together Adaar and Iron Bull charged at it while it reared up and they plunge their blade right into its scaly skin.
"Taarsidath-an halsaam!" Iron Bull yelled as he removed the blade. Maxwell and Cassandra then concentrated their attacks on the dragon's wing, preventing it from being able to take off again.
A swipe of its tail knocked them both off their feet. Ellana called her magic as she stood, reforming the barriers before the dragon could orient its breath.
Cassandra moved underneath it, driving her sword straight up and into its throat. It roared and began to shudder, flailing this way and that as she rolled out of the way. Ellana and Solas arced lightning into it, and a moment later, it fell.
Iron Bull threw his head back and howled.
"Everyone all right?" Ruya asked.
"Today is a great day! Today is a very great day!" Iron Bull laughed.
They returned to Frederic to inform him that they had to kill the dragon, but instead of sounding disappointment he was thrilled. He even asked to join the Inquisition and considering that they were up against an archdemon having a dragologist could prove an asset.
"Adaar!" Iron Bull waved her over. "Come have a drink." Adaar smiled, and sat down next to him. He filled a glass from an oddly patterned clay bottle. "To killing a high dragon like warriors of legend!"
She accepted the glass, and sniffed at it. It smelled like a mixture of spice and burning. "What exactly am I supposed to be drinking?"
"Maraas-lok."
That… didn't exactly answer the question. "What does that mean?"
"It means drink." He hefted his own glass. With some mild trepidation, she drank. It seared the back of her throat and made her tongue start to feel almost numb. She coughed. He gave a satisfied laugh. "I know, right? Put some chest on your chest." He smiled dreamily. "That little gurgle right before it spat fire? And that roar. What I wouldn't give to roar like that. The way the ground shook when it landed. The smell of the fires burning…" He sighed happily. "Taarsidath-an halsaam." He looked back over at her. "You know Qunari hold dragons sacred? Well, as much as we hold anything sacred." He refilled her glass.
Her head was already getting light from the first glass. "That thing you just said. You shouted it during the fight, too. What does it mean?"
"Oh, taarsidath-an halsaam?" He shrugged. "Closest translation would be, 'I will bring myself sexual pleasure later, while thinking about his with great respect.'"
It took her several seconds to process that. "You shouted that while it was breathing fire at us?"
"I know, right?" He gave a grunt of satisfaction.
She drank more to not have to respond to that than anything else. With the second glass, she could taste some flavours in the liquid. A hint of peat, and some spice she couldn't identify. She coughed again.
"Yeah! The second cup's easier. Most of the nerves in your throat are dead after the first one. "Iron Bull started refilling the glass. "Ataashi. 'The glorious ones.' That's our word for them. Ataaaaasheeeee."
"Why do you think the Qunari think of dragons that way?" She was beginning to feel a bit woozy as was the room around her.
"Well, you know how we have horns? We kind of look more…" He shrugged. "Dragony…" He touched one of his own horns. "Than most people. Maybe it's that. But a few of the Ben-Hassrath have this crazy old theory. See, the tamassrans control who we mate with. They breed us for jobs like you'd breed dogs or horses. What if they mixed in some dragon a long time ago? Maybe drinking the blood, maybe magic. I don't know. But something in that dragon we killed…" He smiled again. "Spoke to me."
"When you put it like that, I'm worried I killed one of your gods or something." Ahead was starting to spin now.
"Nah. One of Tevinter's gods, maybe. They worship dragons, right? Kill the shit out of them all you like. Dragons are the embodiment of raw power. But it's all uncontrolled. Savage…" He refilled her glass again. "So they need to be destroyed. Taming the wild. Order out of chaos. Have another drink."
She drained the glass. He laughed. "Nice! To dragons!" He drained his own glass.
"To the Iron Bull," said Adaar raising her glass.
"And his ass-kicking Tal-Vashoth."
Ellana was with both Theron and Solas as they began to discuss about Corypheus. However, Solas was looking at Theron with disdain and she wasn't quite sure whether it was because he was Dalish or because he was a Grey Warden.
"It's clear that Corypheus has found some way to amplify his power," said Theron. "My reports say that he was only able to control the Wardens with small whispers."
"You mean like the elven orb he has," said Ellana.
"It could also be the red lyrium he had implanted in himself," said Theron. "Varric told me that he looked different than the last time he saw him."
"Yes," said Solas. "But the Warden did bring it upon themselves."
Theron looked at him. "And what is that supposed to mean?"
"It means that your order is trying to destroy the very world their supposed to protect," Solas spat.
"I'm not denying that," said Theron. "And believe me this is not the first time that the Wardens used a demon army."
Ellana stared at him. "That's news to me."
"I said tried, it didn't went well," said Theron. "Of course, that was in completely different matter, the Warden Commander at the time was trying to usurp the throne of Ferelden and ordered a Warden mage to summon demons. Then the demons began to slaughter everyone, the veil around Soldier's Peak is still weak. Anyway, me, Faren and Daylen went to investigate and we managed to prevent any more demons from coming through."
Solas frowned. "I think that's enough for today."
Theron didn't say anything and left the room leaving Ellana with Soals.
"We must stop the Wardens from carrying out this insane plan. To seek out these Old Gods deliberately in some bizarre attempt to pre-empt the Blight…" he said looking outraged.
"They won't succeed," Ellana assured. "We're going to stop them together."
Solas calmed down a bit. "Thank you. I've been on my own for so long. It's difficult to get used to having the support of others. Those fools and duty. Responsibility is not expertise. Action is not inherently superior to inaction." He then looked at her apologetically. "Forgive me. The entire idea is… unnerving."
Mother Giselle was waiting for Maxwell in the hall. "My lord Inquisitor, it's good of you to speak with me." She was holding a piece of parchment. "I have news regarding one of your…" She actually wrinkled her nose slightly. "Companions. The Tevinter"
"Is that a note of distaste I detect, Mother Giselle?" He hadn't missed how many gave Dorian side glances.
"I…" Giselle looked down at her hands. "Admit his presence here makes me uncomfortable, Inquisitor, but my feelings are of no importance. I have been in contact with his family: House Pavus, out of Qarinus. Are you familiar with them?"
"He's mentioned his family. They don't appear to be on good terms."
"Yes, I believe you're correct." She glanced down at the parchment, then back up at Maxwell. "The family sent a letter describing the estrangement from their son and pleading for my aid. They've asked to arrange a meeting. Quietly, without telling him. They fear it's the only way he'll come." She held out the parchment. "Since you seem to be on good terms with the young man, I'd hoped…"
Maxwell really didn't like the idea of lying to Dorian about his family. "If you think I'm going to trick Dorian into meeting his family…"
"The family will send a retainer to meet the young man at the Redcliffe tavern to take him onward. If he truly does not wish this reunion, he can always end the matter there." She offered the parchment again. "I pray you change your mind, Inquisitor. Perhaps their letter will persuade you. If there is any chance of success in this, it behoves us to act."
"So Alexius is researching magic for you." Dorian nodded in greeting. "Research is always what made him happiest. Perhaps I'll even go talk to him, eventually." His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "One word of advice: if he suggests altering time as a way to solve all your problems, give it a pass."
Maxwell glanced down at the parchment in his hand. "Dorian, there's a letter you need to see."
"A letter?" He waggled his eyebrows. "Is it a naughty letter? A humorous proposal from some Antivan dowager?"
"Not quite. It's from your father."
All traces of humour vanished from his face. He rubbed his thumb into the palm of his hand. "From my father. I see. And what does Magister Halward want, pray tell?"
"A meeting."
Dorian leaned on the railing for a long moment before turning back to face her. "Show me this letter." He paced as he read it, his grip wrinkling and crushing the parchment. "'I know my son.' What my father knows of me would barely fill a thimble. This is so typical. I'm willing to bet this 'retainer' is a henchman, hired to knock me on the head and drag me back to Tevinter."
"You think your father would actually do that?"
"No…" He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Although I wouldn't put it past him." He thought a moment longer, then nodded. "Let's go. Let's meet this so-called 'family retainer'. If it's a trap, we escape and kill everyone. You're good at that. If it's not, I send the man back to my father with the message that he can stick his alarm in his 'wit's end.'"
"There seems to be bad blood between you and your family." He leaned on the railing next to him.
He laughed. "Interesting turn of phrase. But you're correct. They don't care for my choices, nor I for theirs."
"Because you wouldn't get married? Because you left?"
He shrugged. "That too."
"Let's go meet this retainer, then. We'll leave in the morning."
Dorian nodded. "I wonder how much my father paid this man to wait around just in case I showed?" He sighed. "We'll find out soon enough."
The tavern was empty. Maxwell's hand immediately went to his daggers.
"Uh-oh. Nobody's here. This doesn't bode well," said Dorian reaching for his staff. They exchanged a look, and started to head back to the door.
"Dorian."
Maxwell saw Dorian freeze. Slowly, he turned. "Father." A man in well-tailored robes stood on the staircase. He could see a resemblance between the two men. He could also see that Dorian had gone somewhat pale. Adaar, Cassandra, Blackwall, and Cole were just outside the door just in case. "So the whole story about the 'family retainer' was just…" Dorian swallowed. "What? A smoke screen?"
"Then you were told," he said and then looked to Maxwell. He inclined his head politely. "I apologise for the deception, Inquisitor. I never intended for you to be involved."
"Of course not." Dorian gestured dismissively. "Magister Pavus couldn't come to Skyhold and be seen with the dread Inquisitor. What would people think?" He stepped forward and raised his hands to shoulder level before dropping them again. "What is 'this' exactly, Father? Ambush? Kidnapping? Warm family reunion?"
Magister Pavus sighed. "This is how it has always been," he said, still looking at him.
He narrowed his eyes, and then gestured to Dorian. "You went through all of this to get Dorian here. Talk to him."
"Yes, Father. Talk to me. Let me hear how mystified you are by my anger."
"Dorian, there's no need to—"
Dorian turned to Maxwell. "I prefer the company of men. My father disapproves."
"That's…" He blinked. He tilted his head in confusion. "A big concern in Tevinter, then?"
"Only if you're trying to live up to an impossible standard." Dorian shook his head. "Every Tevinter family is intermarrying to distill the perfect mage, perfect body, perfect mind. The perfect leader. It means every perceived flaw—every aberration—is deviant and shameful. It must be hidden."
He laid a hand on his shoulder. "Your father might be here to reach out. You could give him a chance."
He shook his head. "Let's just go."
"Dorian, please, if you'll only listen to me." Magister Pavus took a couple steps towards them.
"Why?" Dorian rounded on him. "So you can spout more convenient lies?" He strode towards his father, stopping only a couple feet away. "He taught me to hate blood magic. 'The last resort of the weak mind.' Those are his words. But what was the first thing you did when your precious heir refused to play pretend for the rest of his life? You tried to change me!"
"I only wanted what was best for you!" Magister Pavus held out a pleading hand.
"You wanted what was best for you!" Dorian hurled the words. "For your fucking legacy! Anything for that!" He started towards the door again.
Maxwell stepped into his path. "Don't leave it like this, Dorian. You'll never forgive yourself."
They stared at each other for a moment, and then he nodded. He turned back to his father. "Tell me why you came."
"If I knew I would drive you to the Inquisition…"
"You didn't." Dorian cut him off. "I joined the Inquisition because it's the right thing to do." He shook his head, and his voice became calmer. "Once I had a father who would have known that." He turned away.
This time, he didn't try to stop him. He put his hand on his arm as they walked towards the door together.
"Once I had a son who trusted me. A trust I betrayed." Magister Pavus's voice stopped them both. "I only wanted to talk to him. To hear his voice again. To ask him to forgive me."
Dorian looked at him, and he gestured his head towards his father. Slowly, he turned around, and went back to talk to his father.
Half an hour later Dorian emerged out of the tavern, but he didn't say anything began making their way back to Skyhold.
He then began to ask Cole various question, no doubt to keep his mind of his father. Some of the answers were fascinating. Blackwall gave the spirit a strange look. "How does a spirit become flesh anyway?"
"I don't know." Cole turned his pale eyes towards Blackwall. "How does a Warden become Grey?" Blackwall just rolled his eyes. Cole turned his eyes back to Dorian. "You ask a lot of questions, Dorian."
"I'm curious about you." Dorian shrugged. "I had no idea something like you was possible."
"I'm curious about you, too."
Dorian gave him a friendly smile. "You can ask me questions, if you like. I'm not sure why you'd want to, but…"
"Good!" Cole sounded thrilled at the possibility. "Thank you!"
"I'm…" Dorian blinked. "Going to regret this, aren't I?"
Cassandra rolled her eyes affectionately.
On the way back, she listened to Cole and Cassandra talking about Lord Seeker Lambert. Maxwell was surprised to learn that it had, in fact, been Cole that had killed the man. Through from what he had heard, he wasn't sure he'd been wrong to do so. Not for the first time, he wondered what would have happened if it had been people like Cassandra and Cullen in charge when the trouble first came to a head. Though, if it had been people like Cassandra and Cullen in charge, it was likely the trouble would not have occurred.
When they returned to Skyhold, he found Dorian in his alcove, staring out the window. He glanced at him. "He says we're alike. Too much pride." He gave a small shake of his head. "Once I would have been overjoyed to hear him say that. Now I'm not certain. I don't know if I can forgive him."
Maxwell could tell that this was a difficult time Dorian. "Are you all right?"
"No. Not really." He turned to face him. "Thank you for bringing me out there. It wasn't what I expected, but…" He took a breath. "It's something." He started to look a bit embarrassed. "Maker knows what you must think of me now, after that whole display."
"I think you're very brave."
He actually looked surprised at his words. "Brave?"
"It's not easy to abandon tradition and walk your own path."
His smile trembled for a moment. Then he put back on his mask of good humour and cheer. "At any rate, time to drink myself into a stupor. It's been that sort of day." He gestured to him. "Join me sometime, if you've a mind."
"I'll think about it," Maxwell smiled.
Erdic found Varric scribbling on a desk in the great hall. He was generally surprised, Varric always avoided doing paperwork.
"Battling the demons of paperwork?" Erdic joked. "That's a fight nobody walks away from clean."
Varric looked relieved for the distraction and turned to face him with a smile on his face. "You have no idea of the times I've almost been killed by bills of lading." He then took a deep breath and looked at Erdic. "I've been meaning to come talk with you, anyhow. I never officially joined the Inquisition. I don't know how to do this… disciplehood thing. I'm a businessman. Never really followed a chosen one before."
"I was a businessman before this entire endeavour," said Eridc in the back of his head. "Truth be told I'm not really sure how to make this work. The last thing I need is a disciple what I need is a friend."
Varric chuckled. "If you knew how intimidating you are, you wouldn't make it sound so simple. You and the others just don't know who you are to the people out there." He gestured to the large doors. "The Herald of Andraste and the honour guard is a symbol bigger than any of us."
"What am I to you, then?" Erdic asked leaning against the fireplace.
"None of the shit makes sense to me," said Varric shaking his head. "It is the end of the world? Did Andraste send you through the Breach? I have no idea. You heard the crowd singing after Haven was attacked."
"Please tell me you aren't going to burst into song now," Erdic groaned.
"Don't worry. I'm not that cruel. I should probably get back to work," he said gesturing to his desk. "Unless…" He looked around to make sure that no one was overhearing. "You up for a game of Wicked Grace?"
"I'm game," said Erdic.
The two of them then sat at the table and began to play a game.
