Chapter 17
Matthew, Nathaniel, and Velanna stood waiting near the entrance to the basement of Vigil's Keep, waiting for the other two members of their group, Oghren and Anders, to be properly readied; Oghren, it seemed, had finally ingested something that could bring him to his knees. Specifically, a bottle of Aqua Magus. Apparently, he had failed to properly head the warning against drinking the substance in quantity. So, Anders was doing his best to ensure that the dwarven berserker did not keel over from the poisonous liquor.
While he and the others were waiting, Matthew mentally reviewed the weeks since the trial. The excavators had finally managed to remove the wall of debris that blocked the connection between the Keep's basement and the dwarven Deep Roads. Matthew had led Oghren, Velanna, and Anders down into the ancient tunnels. There, they had whipped out numerous darkspawn, unearthed an ancient demon (which had later been destroyed on their return to the surface) and had found an old dwarven barrier door which they closed off, preventing the darkspawn from invading the Keep from below again. After they had closed off the gate, he, his Wardens, and the Keep's soldiers had scoured every nook and cranny of the basement levels, finishing off the last of the darkspawn. Only once he was absolutely sure that none of the beasts remained did he send the soldiers on that job to positions on the surface.
Also in that time, the reconstruction of the Vigil's Walls had finally been complete. Two walls of granite eight feet thick now circled the Keep, with at least a dozen towers with catapults atop them on each wall. The ramparts on the battlements had been augmented with wooden hoardings, which had been soaked in warmth balm fluid in order to increase its resistance to fire and covered in slaps of slate for added strength and fire-proofing. Combined with the soldiers of the Keep, now veterans against the darkspawn and armed and armored with a metal second only to dragonbone, Matthew had absolute confidence that Vigil's Keep could withstand almost anything the world could throw at it.
Sadly, the clean up and repair had taken far less time than he had anticipated; he had been hoping that these tasks would take a few weeks longer so that he could have an excuse to stay at the Keep until Morrigan came due, in order to help her along as much as he could; at eight and a half months, she was very large, very uncomfortable, and very, very cranky. Even by Morrigan standards.
Unfortunately, he had run out of excuses, and had gathered his wardens in order to go and investigate the chasm the hunters in Amaranthine had told him about. That is, he would, if Oghren hadn't just drank an entire liter of alcohol laced with high-grade lyrium and brought the entire operation to halt right from the beginning.
"I should hate her, but I don't."
Drawn out of his reminiscing by Velanna's statement, Matthew turned to the armored elven mage, and said, "Pardon, Velanna?"
"I'm talking about the Shemlen prophet, Andraste. I can respect a woman who fights for freedom and justice."
An ironic grin appeared on the Warden-Commander's face. "I'm surprised to hear such high praise for a human from you."
The blonde woman's head snapped in his direction, giving him a scowl even his wife could be proud of. "I can look past petty hatred when I have reason to. And besides, she and her army freed my people from Tevinter slavery. Andraste is the reason why the elves ever had any nation at all." Turning back to the stone effigy, she snorted in amusement. "It's funny; Andraste fought a tyrannical empire, only for her followers to become one themselves."
Matthew barked a laugh. "I couldn't have said it better myself. I'll have to try that on Revered Mother Morag the next time we go to Amaranthine!"
"Please don't," he heard Nathaniel groan.
"People with power NEVER fail to abuse it," Velanna declared. "Even those with good intentions."
Cocking an eyebrow, Matthew turned his head to the elf, and replied, "Oh, really? And how would things be different if the Dalish had power?"
Judging by her shocked expression, Velanna had been too arrogant to even consider the possibility that her statement applied to her own people as well. "What!? No! The Dalish only wish to restore our culture, and to help and protect our own people."
"That is exactly what the Chantry started off saying," Matthew countered. "And only a little less than three centuries later, they were marching their armies against the Dales, reducing your people to wandering tribes and those crammed into our cities." Cocking his head to the side, he asked, "What if the Dalish did have power now? How long would it be before you decided that Fereldan needed to be wiped out of existence?"
Velanna merely stood there, mouth opening and closing like a fish, eyes wide with shock, until she finally stammered, "I..I do not wish to continue this discussion."
"As you wish."
After that the group fell silent, apart from Oghren; the dwarf had finally ceased regurgitating all over the ground, and was now kneeling with his back to the wall, moaning softly as Anders began mixing a potion to settle the warrior's stomach. The normally care-free Spirit Healer was in an uncharacteristically foul mood; he was wearing a scowl that rivaled Morrigan and Velanna , though it was understandable, given that he was splattered with vomit.
Suddenly, Matthew felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see his very pregnant wife holding a large, obviously full pack. "Here," she snapped, shoving the leather bag into his arms.
Looking down at the pack, then back at Morrigan, and decided to risk asking, "And what is it you are giving me, exactly?"
"Supplies," Morrigan said, her voice filled with acid. "Poultices, lyrium potions, balms, grenades. I thought you might need them, seeing as I am no longer permitted to weave spells."
"Morrigan," he groaned.
"Well, how did you expect me to react," she spat. "I have told you dozens of times before; I. Am. Not. Helpless. And I don't need you watching out for me at all hours."
"I KNOW, Morrigan," Matthew nearly shouted with exasperation. "I KNOW you can take care of yourself, and I KNOW that you don't need my protection. But our child," he continued, placing a finger on her bulging stomach, "can't take care of his or herself. Our child DOES need someone watching out for him or her. And as parents, it is our duty to do these things, even if it means doing things that we find distasteful. Understand?"
Morrigan eyes narrowed as she glared at her husband, apparently trying to counter his argument, before groaning, and rubbed her eyes with her hands. "Fine, Matthew. I suppose you are correct. But after I give birth, I will NOT be left on the sidelines anymore; I will not allow anyone to dictate what I think and do."
Taking a glance behind Morrigan, he felt himself tighten slightly. "I think that someone might disagree with you, dear."
Confusion clouded his wife's features, only to be replaced with a look of absolute exasperation. "Oh, for goodness sake," Morrigan hissed. "Will that woman not give me even a moment's peace?"
The woman they were talking about, and who was currently storming toward the pair as they spoke, was a grizzled, old midwife named Matilda. She was the most experienced midwife Matthew could find, which was why he had hired her. What he hadn't realized until it was too late was that she was an absolute control freak; she expected every expectant mother to obey every order she gave exactly when she gave it, and to continue to obey them until she said otherwise. And, as Morrigan obeyed absolutely no one, sparks had been flying between the two immediately.
Matthew had heard of love at first sight, but never hate at first sight.
"What are you doing outside of your quarters, woman," the ancient woman hissed. Matthew took a step back; he did not want to be caught in the cross-fire.
"I came to give my husband some supplies for his mission," Morrigan replied haughtily. "I doubt that walking down a few flights of stairs and out into the courtyard will do any harm to my unborn child."
Matilda stomped as close to Morrigan as she could without touching her stomach, which still left her a good distance away, and replied scathingly, "That is entirely beside the point, woman! The point is that are two weeks away from giving birth, and you need to do exactly what I say if you want to get through this!"
"I will listen to you when it is imperative that I do so," the irate mage countered. "I do not require to have someone else run errands for me simply because the only thing you want me to do is sit in my room and sew."
With that, Matilda finally lost whatever shred of patience she still had, and threw her arms into the air. "I cannot believe this! You are, without any doubt in my mind, the most difficult person I have ever met in my entire career!" Turning to Matthew, she asked, "Warden Commander, do you maintain any control over this woman at all?!"
"No," Matthew said immediately. "I do not. And I am not foolhardy enough to try."
The wrinkled old had glared at him, then finally turned and stormed back to the Keep. Anyone who was in her path immediately turned aside once they saw her coming.
Meanwhile, Anders and Oghren both walked up to the group, both covered in sweat and vomit. "Grey Wardens, reporting for duty, ser," Anders recited, his voice missing his usual charm. Nodding, Matthew slung the pack over his shoulder, and turned to order his group to move out. Before he could, however, he felt Morrigan's hand grip his arm. Turning, he saw a sly smile adorning his wife's face. Placing a hand on the side of his head, she pulled him close, and whispered in his ear, "Be safe out there, love; you may get a pleasant surprise when you return."
Grinning wickedly, Matthew whispered back, "And what would that be?"
"Come back unharmed, and find out," Morrigan murmured, and then planted a kiss on lips. Returning the sign of affection, the couple remained where they stood for several moments. Finally, with a final pat on his wife's bulging stomach, Matthew ordered his group to move out, and the five Grey Warden's of Fereldan marched out of the Gates of Vigil's Keep.
oo-00-oo
The group had felt the area where the hunter's had found the chasm long before they actually arrived; the area was thick with darkspawn taint. The area around the gaping hole in the ground was mixture of yellows, browns, and grays as the poison of the blighted horde killed the plant life that had once thrived here. They even encountered a bereskarn, a bear that had been corrupted by the darkspawn taint and driven mad with pain. They had dispatched the animal as much for pity as self-defense.
As they began to cross the bridge that spanned the gap, Matthew immediately saw something the hunters had evidently missed; the hole did not lead to a natural hole in the ground. The land had collapsed into an abandoned section of the Dwarven Deep Roads. Anders groaned when he found out that piece of information; the healer hated going underground.
Descending back into the bowels of the earth, the five were ambushed by a group of deep stalkers, which they defeated without any injuries whatsoever; the creatures were about the size of house cats, so their teeth and claws were no match for the Warden's armor and weapons. Stopping only to grab a few trinkets they found in the animal's stomachs, including a deer foot on a small chain, the group continued farther down into the Roads. Hearing a scuffle nearby, the group immediate pressed themselves along the wall to their right. Matthew peaked around the corner.
A group of five darkspawn, consisting of a genlock emissary, two hurlocks, and two lesser genlocks were marching toward a small stairway leading deeper into the ancient dwarven tunnels, and the hurlocks were dragging a live dwarven woman by her legs behind them. The dwarf, whose armor identified her as belonging to Orzammar's Legion of the Dead, was still struggling to try to get away. Not long after Matthew spotted her, she managed to free her left leg, and kick the Hurlock holding her right in the back of the knee, sending it sprawling. Finally loose, the minute fighter scrambled back up the hall, and grabbed a discarded ax that the Wardens had failed to notice.
Turning his attention back to the darkspawn, Matthew saw the emissary preparing a spell to incapacitate the dwarf. Immediately stepping around the corner, he unleashed a Holy Smite on the emissary. The two lesser genlocks were tossed aside by the force of the attack, while the mage dropped to its knees, screaming in agony as the anti-magic attack consumed its mana and burned it from the inside out. Nathaniel immediately stepped out next to him, and shot the incapacitated emissary in the eye. Valanna shot a bolt of lightning at one of the genlocks, leaving a sizzling hole in its chest, and Anders hit the second in the head with an Arcane Bolt. Oghren, with all the finesse of a battering ram, charged one of the hurlocks, bellowing all the way, slashed off its lower legs with his battle ax, and finally cut the beast in two with an overhead blow.
Matthew's attention, however, was now of the dwarf they had just rescued, who was now fighting the final hurlock with her ax and a long dagger she had acquired while he wasn't looking. Watching her fight was fascinating; while she was armored in heavy mail and plate like a warrior, her fighting style was that of a rogue. Twisting to the side to avoid an underhand blow, the darkspawn's sword caught her helmet on one of the decorative horns, knocking it off. In response, the dwarf stabbed the Hurlock in both its thighs. Unable to bear its own weight, the monster fell to its knees, before finally being killed as the rogue split its head in two with her ax.
"Well," the dwarven fighter breathed, turning to the group. "That was….close. For a moment there, I thought I was about to REALLY join the Legion of the Dead."
Matthew was taken aback by the dwarf's strangely perky attitude, especially given her appearance; her face was covered in tattoos so as to resemble a skull. Usually, such people did not make light-hearted conversation. "Are you alright?" he asked.
"I may have broken a rib," the rogue explained. "But it's hard to be sure; everything hurts."
"Anders," Matthew ordered immediately. The former Circle Mage immediately stepped forward, and began inspecting the dwarf's body for injuries.
"May have broken A rib?" Anders repeated sarcastically. "Try half of them." His quip finished, he cast a powerful, complicated healing spell on the woman, reforming her broken bones and closing any internal injuries she had suffered.
"Thanks," she said as she bent down to retrieve her helmet. "But I can't stay and chat. I should head back-foolish as that sounds… see if there's anything I can do."
"Go back where," Matthew questioned. The Legion of the Dead was a group of dwarven warriors that gave up their past lives in order to devote their entire being to fighting the darkspawn. Anything that was of interest to the Legion was of interest to Grey Wardens as well.
"There is something going on in Kal'Hirol," the dwarf explained. "We think that the darkspawn are breeding an army. The Legion sent my unit to investigate, but Kal'Hirol was too much for us. It was a massacre. Now I….I'm the only one left."
Matthew knew what the dwarf was feeling only too well; he would never forget the feeling of despair he had felt when he had awoken after the Battle of Ostagar to find that he and Alistair were the only remaining Grey Wardens in the entire country.
"The darkspawn have changed," the dwarf woman continued before Matthew could say anything. "They're smart now. They destroyed the entire part of the Legion that was sent to the old fortress." Shame and horror filled her eyes, and she averted her gaze. "I saw them taking some of the women, and I wasn't going to stick around for that."
"Good decision," Matthew responded immediately.
"There are many things worse than death," the rogue said, her voice a whisper. "And birthing darkspawn day and night is probably the worst." Looking back at him, the woman squared her shoulders, and declared, "But if the darkspawn are really breeding an army, I can't stay here; I have to do something."
"Well, my companions and I are Grey Wardens," Matthew explained, seeing as, come the void or high water, this dwarf was going back to Kal'Hirol. "We could come with you."
The woman looked surprised, then delighted. "Huh. That's convenient. The ancestors must have had a hand in this. Alright, I'll show you where Kal'Hirol is. Safety in numbers, yes?"
"True enough," Matthew agreed. " I am Warden-Commander Matthew Cousland; this is Velanna, Oghren, Nathaniel, and Anders."
"Sigrun," the dwarven rogue introduced herself. Grinning from ear to ear, she continued with, "Well, let's go. This task is no longer impossible. Merely…improbable!"
Chuckling at the woman's enthusiasm, Matthew followed her deeper into the artificial caverns, his Wardens following close behind.