Disclaimer: Dragon Age Origins in owned by Bioware.
It has now been several years after the tumultuous events of the Fifth Blight that I consider now a good occasion to reflect on that time. My feelings at present are one of tremendous happiness and relief. It feels good to finally return to the stone!
For a dwarf who has spent the vast majority of his life in loyal service to Orzammar and their Kings, there can be little fate worse then exile to the surface. Not only is this a dishonourable development that brings shame to a member of the warrior caste, but it is also a physically daunting one.
The surface world is far different and alien to anything I had ever experienced before. Despite my relatively long period in exile on the surface I was never able to fully adjust to the changes I experienced. Although I was fortunate enough to meet and marry my wife during my time there, there is very little that can prepare one in an environment where you can see a horizon - let alone a sun!
The humans themselves are very different as well. Whereas the dwarves are honourable and warrior-like peoples - the humans are an assortment of different individuals and groupings. Human society places more emphasis on the individual and lacks the effective social cohesion and unity that is evidently displayed in Orzammar. There is no clear distinction between what one role a human serves in the surface world. Some are free to choose to be merchants or beggars, others become warriors.
There is no caste system as such either. Although the nobility is somewhat of an exclusive category – the duties and privileges of the nobility are not well defined. Whilst many noblemen took up arms and fought the darkspawn on the battlefield, many others did not. Some simply concerned themselves with their fortunes and fled far from danger, not concerned with the fate of the Kingdom at large. Those humans who fought did so bravely and proved capable of honour. In particular the recently crowned King Alistair, also a Grey Warden, fought with great skill during the events of the blight.
It is little wonder that the humans are as they are. Unlike dwarves, the humans do not have to constantly live in fear of a darkspawn invasion. They have not witnessed their once great empire reduced to one last bastion of hope - nor have they experienced a centuries-long siege against their people.
It is well known that the darkspawn who inhabit the deep periodically surge to the surface under the direction of an Arch-Demon. When this event occurs the surface world is ravaged and devastated almost beyond recognition. These events become known as the blight. This occasion was the fifth such event, hence the commonly used term the 'Fifth Blight.'
What we dwarves experience for the entirety of our lives is suddenly thrusted onto the surface world with a vengeance. The lack of political unity amongst the humans takes is illustrated best by their inability to effectively counter the incursion until it is almost too late. Although humanity was ultimately victorious, it was only by the intervention of the Grey Wardens. The Grey Wardens alone keep the humans vigilant against any signs of a darkspawn incursion. Without their foresight and curious abilities, it is doubtful in my opinion that humanity would prevail.
The events of the recent Fifth Blight were no exception. The Kingdom of Ferelden was torn asunder and its countryside ravaged and pillaged mercilessly. The humans first attempted to confront the threat at the ancient Tevinter fortress of Ostagar, a location I am told that is ideally suited to confront a hostile army from the south. Unfortunately it is clear that the humans underestimated the threat, or at least their King did not take it seriously. The darkspawn fight ferociously at the best of times, but when lead by an Arch-Demon they possess a greater level of tactical guile then would normally be present.
A neutral and dispassionate analysis of that battle reveals that the humans had already lost before Teyrn Loghain famously ordered his retreat. Although it is interesting to speculate on the result if Loghain had marched his troops to relieve the King's position, I am of the opinion it would have had no significant tactical effect on the battle. I do concede the political effect may have been decisive, but that would have come at the potential cost of the army. Whatever else may be said of Teyrn Loghain's decision at Ostagar, his retreat did preserve the bulk of the Ferelden army that allowed the Kingdom to remain a threat to the Arch-Demon.
It is very difficult for those of us in Orzammar to understand the political significance of Ostagar. Dwarves do not have the luxury of retreating from the battlefield. Our homes are the battlefield. Each and every dwarf would hold their ground to defend Orzammar until the last invader was killed, or the last dwarf dead.
Despite my observations above, there can be little doubt that the events of the Fifth Blight have had a profound effect on dwarves and humans alike. For the first time in generations the Dwarven Kingdom is expanding and reclaiming lost thaigs. Relations with the surface have never been stronger, trade and prosperity has flourished and the presence of Golems alongside our armies has bolstered our soldier's morale to long forgotten heights. What is also often overlooked is the general improvement of reputation dwarves now have to the world at large. This is of course in large part due to the actions of Paragon Duran Aeducan.
Much has been written of Paragon Duran Aeducan and his decisive part in the Fifth Blight. The middle child of the late King Endrin Aeducan, Duran Aeducan found himself politically out-maneuvered by his younger brother Bhelen and sent into exile to the Deep Roads. This unhappy event also coincided with my own exile to the surface.
Though those events deeply shamed me at the time, they did nonetheless lead to the present situation we have today. It was the will of the ancestors that Duran Aeducan was sent into banishment to the Deep Roads where he came across the Grey Warden Commander Duncan.
Duncan accepted Duran into the Grey Wardens and travelled with him to Ostagar to join the King's Army. It was in the aftermath of the disaster at Ostagar that Duran assumed control of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden and begun his task of combating the Fifth Blight. Those tales are well known and circulated that I do not need to repeat them here.
My part in this tale begins near the end of the events of the Fifth Blight. Although I had encountered Duran once on the surface world since his exile, it was not until the siege of Denerim that I began to have an active part once more in his life.
The siege of Denerim was the largest battle of the Fifth Blight and the penultimate encounter with the darkspawn. The darkspawn had convinced the Ferelden Army that their attack was pointed at Redcliffe in the south. Unfortunately when the Army had gathered in the south, alongside their dwarven and dalish allies, it had become apparent a great trap was set.
I remember distinctly that I was shutting up my shop when I heard the first alarm. Initially there was relative calm amongst the guards. A burly fellow in a suit of plate armour gave no sign of alarm as he passed me by quickly. I continued shutting my shop, securing the chests and cupboards, when I spotted a guardsmen known to me rushing in the direction of the gates.
"What's going on?" I asked.
The guard slowed his pace, briefly locking his eyes with mine. "Darkspawn have been sighted approaching the city," he replied, shaking his head in confusion, "it doesn't make sense! They are supposed to be at Redcliffe."
Hiding my rising panic I retorted, "Surely it's just a raiding party. The scouts would have seen them."
"The scouts have not reported in the last few hours!" he cried, picking up his original pace and leaving me bewildered.
As much as I wanted to ask further questions I observed his desperation to be off and let him go. Although I was beginning to sense the trap, I was at that point still captured by a certain unwillingness to confront the truth.
Walking quickly towards my home not far from the Denerim markets I came across a fellow dwarven merchant Argnus. He was running in my direction and when he saw me stopped and addressed me in an agitated tone.
"Gorim you blighter, what are you doing in the open?"
Taken aback at his frightened tone I answered, "Going home. What are you talking about? What's going on?"
His eyes flashed momentarily before me, "Gorim the darkspawn are approaching the city! I've heard it's an invasion force!"
"Rubbish!" I scoffed, "everyone knows they're at Redcliffe."
"Not true," shouted Argnus. He began to pace backward and forward in front of me, his hands flicking endlessly to his sword at his side. "I heard it from one of the guards myself. Reckon the King's been led into a trap!"
"Are you sure? I just passed a guard and he didn't say anything about a large army."
He stopped his pacing and closed the distance between us, grabbing me firmly by the shoulders as he peered into my eyes. "Gorim I tell you the truth! I've just come from the Keep where I heard the Captain proclaim it. They're going to rally every able bodied man into fighting."
He paused for a moment, letting me sink in what he just told me. Licking his lips for a moment he continued, "Gorim you're going to need to open your shop and pull out your wares."
I momentarily hesitated when he said that. Although in hindsight it is easy to criticise my indecision, at that point of time I was not sure of the extent of the emergency. I was also acutely aware that Argnus knew of my high quality armour and had long craved to possess them. After considering his suggestion perhaps a little longer then strictly necessary, I relented.
"If the situation is as dire as you say then of course my armoury will be opened."
Arglan did not smile, the gravity of the situation still bearing down upon him. He merely nodded his head in appreciation as I lead him towards the shop. Whilst unlocking the door I noticed a growing crowd of people milling about the marketplace. Some of them were soldiers and it appeared they were giving orders to the merchants.
One of the soldiers who I didn't recognise approached my shop and proclaimed loudly, "By order of Captain of the Guard you are hereby ordered to provide your arms to any and all soldiers for the duration of the current emergency."
As the soldier said this he spied one of my prized shields within. Pointing directly at it, he looked at me and said. "I hereby requisition that shield for this emergency."
The shield he pointed out was none other then the late King Endrin Aeducan's shield. I had offered it to Duran when I last saw him but he had refused to take it. Although I could see the emergency we were in I was not prepared to just hand over the ancestral symbol my people to any soldier, in particular a human.
"I cannot allow you to have that shield soldier!" I challenged. I squared up to the soldier, considering him in more detail. He was a young man, not big by human standards but nonetheless considerably larger then me. His nose was distinctively perched upon his face that gave him a sneering and condescending look. His black hair, coupled with piercing dark eyes, reminded me very much of that bird the humans call a raven.
He regarded me contemptuously for a long moment before snarling, "You obviously didn't hear me dwarf. You are to provide your arms to any soldier for the duration of this emergency. I will have that fine shield on the wall and you best not stand in my way."
"I do not seek to prevent you taking up arms. There are other shields you can have soldier." I replied coolly, keeping my eyes locked with his. "But not that one"
The young man's eyes bore deep into mine, I tried not to show any emotion but I cannot be certain I was successful. "You will not stop me dwarf. I will have it."
His hand reflexively went for his sword. Moving quickly I grasped his wrist, holding it in place and preventing him from sheathing his blade. "I don't want any trouble here but I assure you that shield is sacred to my people and can only be wielded by a dwarf."
It was at that moment that Arglan sought to intervene. He rushed over to me, hoping to insert himself between us. Recognising my dangerous predicament I refused to budge. I predicted once the soldier's wrists were free he would draw his sword and the situation would rapidly spiral out of control. My only hope was to convince him to back down.
"Get your hands off me you filthy dwarf!" The soldier cried, furiously attempting to draw his sword.
Despite my attempts to calm the situation it appeared that violence was inevitable. I reflected quite grimly that I would either have to back down and see the shield taken, or that I would have to fight and potentially find myself in deep trouble. Fortunately a shout from the marketplace interrupted our argument.
"What's going on here?" Cried an officer who approached with deliberate calm. The officer evidently commanded considerable respect from the soldier as his anger subsided immediately and he firmed himself into a military pose. I removed my hands from him and stood awaiting the attentions of the approaching figure.
As the officer came closer I immediately recognised her as none other then Ser Cauthrien, the commander of former Teryn Loghain's army. She had an impressive suit of armor imposed on her athletic frame which deceptively suggested a frail and feminine character. The deception was immediately obvious when considering the large and distinctive sword poised on her back. I had long since heard of her reputation as a most capable warrior and a fierce commander of men. Her commanding presence immediately calmed me and strangely reminded me of my times fighting the darkspawn in King Endrin's army.
Stopping two feet in front of the soldier she glared at him, her tone menacingly suggested impatience. "What's going on here Wilkes?" She repeated.
The soldier, Wilkes, stammered with his reply at first, "This dwarf is refusing to requisition his armor as you ordered. He is directly obstructing me in my duties."
Ser Cauthrien looked pointedly at me, her eyes piercing my own. "Is that so? Dwarf you do understand that we are facing a crisis and that those orders came directly from me?"
"I understand. I am happy to requisition my arms but that shield represents the Honour of Orzammar and I have sworn an oath that only I or an Aeducan would carry it in battle."
Ser Cauthrien paused for a moment, evidently puzzled. "Did you say Aeducan? Do you mean the Warden Commander Aeducan?"
"Yes. I was his second in Orzammar and have much experience in fighting the darkspawn. If there truly is an emergency here you could use my help!"
She considered this statement for a moment before responding. "I am most obliged to your Warden Commander. If what you say is true then you have my leave to wield that shield and your sword. However, I will require you to requisition any other weapons you have to my soldiers as necessary."
"Yes of course Ser Cauthrien," I responded, glad of the resolution brought to the situation. "How bad is the situation?"
Ser Cauthrien directed her attention to the soldier Wilkes, his pose still braced with tension. "Wilkes take what you need and get to the gates now!"
Wilkes eyes darted across the room in haste. He was evidently set on the Aeducan shield and Cauthrien's intervention had unsettled him. He was not prepared to be dismissed so quickly and had difficulty finding something he liked. On reflection it is clear he sensed the tension in the room. After finding a suitably large shield he left as quick as his legs would allow.
Cauthrien then turned her gaze to me and without a hint of emotion in her demeanour she replied almost casually, "The darkspawn have gathered in large numbers to besiege the city. It appears the attack on Redcliffe was a ploy."
Arglan cut in at this point, "So it was a trap! But how is that possible? Darkspawn are notoriously disorganised."
Ser Cauthrien displayed, only for an instant, the first signs of the tremendous strain she was under. "We believe this attack is directed by none other then the Arch-Demon."
Arglan gasped, "The Arch-Demon is here? But the Grey Wardens aren't back yet are they?"
She shook her head, "Not yet but we have sent word for them."
I had known Arglan for many years by that point. Although I had never served in combat with him, his reputation as a capable warrior was known to me. It was therefore somewhat indicative of the seriousness of the situation that he displayed what I could only describe as genuine fear across his face.
She sensed the uneasiness in the room and firmly planted herself before us. "Now is not the time to abandon our senses." Turning towards me exclusively she continued, "Every able bodied man and woman must be prepared to defend Denerim and I will need those with experience to take charge. The dwarves have long been known to me as a warrior race. You say you fought with the Warden Commander against the darkspawn. That is good, for the people will look to you for courage and you must not fail them. We have to hold the city for as long as possible until the Army arrives or all will be lost." She turned to Arglan to include us both, "I implore you master dwarves, harden your hearts and sharpen your swords for the fight ahead."
"We will stand with you." I replied, emboldened by her confidence in our abilities. "I will carry the Shield of Aeducan and the Honour of Orzammar into battle and rally the dwarves into battle."
She smiled and nodded appreciatively, "That is an excellent plan master dwarf and these are desperate times. The dwarves of Denerim would no doubt fight better under those conditions then any other." She inclined her head slightly, contemplating a course of action. "However before I embark on this course of action I would know your name and how it was you came to be in Denerim."
"I am Gorim, formally a warrior of Orzammar to House Kurdan. I was second to Prince Duran Aeducan and a veteran of many battles. I was embroiled in the politics that led to Prince Duran's exile and was banished to the surface for my loyalty to him." I paused momentarily, maintaining my composure. "I can assure you my conduct and that of Prince Duran's was always honourable. In the end even the late King Endrin himself recognised the treachery, and he deeply regretted what had transpired."
Ser Cauthrien considered me for a moment before responding. "Very well master Gorim, I commission you to command a unit of any dwarves you find within the city. You have my authority to recruit and command this unit for the duration of the emergency and you may use any means necessary to assist in the defence of Denerim. You must obey any and all orders from me or my representative during this time as well. However, I pledge to listen to your counsel and experience should you offer it. Do you accept my terms?"
I was quite surprised by her suggestion and confess I was beginning to doubt what I had heard. When I gave my statement of support I had intended it as a throw-away line and not as a literal proposal to lead a group of surface dwarves into battle. Nonetheless I found myself being charged with that very task - the formation of a group of surface dwarf exiles taking part in the defence of a home we had never really embraced. After considering the implications of the proposal I accepted her offer.
"I accept your terms Ser Cauthrien and would be honoured to pledge my service."
"Good." She replied, crossing her arms across her chest and observing me for a moment longer. "Now master Gorim, since you are already a well-established merchant here I charge you with the defence of the marketplace. Gather your fellow dwarves and erect whatever defences you can inside the marketplace. By nightfall the city will be swarming with darkspawn and if they breach the walls it will be your job to make them pay for it inch by bloody inch."
She began to leave, turning towards us in the doorway and looking decidedly grim. "Pray that the maker delivers your friend to us in all haste." She then departed our company, leaving us in contemplation of the dark times ahead. By that point I was only just beginning to understand the danger we were in. It would only be a few hours later that I realised just how much I had underestimated the gravity of our situation.
Author's Note:
I apologise for the lengthy delay in updating. I originally had envisaged this to be as a memoir/biography and confess I find that much easier to write. I actually have the outline of the story all prepared up to a point, but at the least minute I opted to include a story format as well.
As it stands this chapter has included elements of both styles and I would greatly appreciate any feedback on that. If there is a consensus that I should stick with a simpler memoir approach I will do so – it is far easier to write and the updating schedule would be quicker. However, I haven't much practice in story writing and this is probably a good way to develop my skills in this area.
I am a big admirer of dwarves (in particular the Dragon Age dwarves). I started this fiction as a way of exploring the best possible scenario for the dwarven kingdom. Some of the choices my character Duran made have been hinted at already in the opening and this chapter. I will continue to present the clues more clearly as time goes by.
Please feel free to leave a review, thus far I have only been graced with the 1 review but I concede that is likely due to the lack of detail and length of the opening. I hope it is not reflective of a lack of interest in dwarves .