Now she was closer, the Warden turned towards the elf woman, sizing her up carefully. The armour she wore was ornate, and clearly ceremonial, although it appeared to be made from actual materials that could stand up to a charging, very angry Darkspawn, unlike some examples he'd seen, forged from copper or bronze, or even made out of gold or silver entirely. A fairly boyish mane of platinum hair stood over a face that had little remarkable about it. The vassilin tattoos were present, as he expected them to be for any adult Dalish elf. Her eyes, however, were a surprise. For some reason, they almost seemed to glow green as the elf regarded him coolly, her step visibly that of a warrior, although he had no idea who'd designed the sword she was carrying, which he doubted was a practical weapon.
-000-000-
I can see why that little scrap took place. Tahiri thought as she approached the man, who was standing with one arm around his wife, carefully giving a little space to his son. If he wasn't so ardently defended by Asha'Bellanar's daughter, I'd take a shot at him as well. Grinning at the thought, she waited, wiping her grin off of her face when she saw him begin to turn.
He was taller than her, although not unusually for a shem'len. The heavy, ebon black armour he wore, close to, testified that she was looking at a man who'd fought a lot of skirmishes and battles in his time, showing scratches and dents in most of the main plates, with slices taken out of the paldrons in dozens of places, and further scarring on most of the surfaces with an opportunity to catch a blow. One of the most unusual scars was a massive gouge that had torn away a hemisphere out of a shoulderguard, while the winged helmet only possessed one of the structures.
"I ran into a High Dragon as I was crossing through Shadow pass in the frostbacks." He explained. "Tried to eat my horse and me."
"Wh... You won? Alone?"
Tactical draw, really. It got a few pieces of armour plate, in exchange for a twelve foot gouge in a flight membrane. Should take it six weeks or so to heal that and get airborne again."
"You survived going one on one with a high Dragon?"
"I survived an Archdemon, and a dragon controlled by a witch during the blight." He told her, without a hint of boasting in his voice. "Tackling a normal high Dragon that expected to win the fight with one jet of flame was not challenging compared to tackling The Archdemon. That had the intelligence of a God guiding it in the fight. I took three wardens, including myself, into the fight, with a two ton golem backing us up. The golem only survived the battle because of the fact it hit a tower, rather than being knocked to the left of it, and Alistair only lived because we got him to a mage within ten minutes. I hamstrung it, and then Loghain... He made the ultimate sacrifice. He said that Ferelden needed me more than him, and that I was a hero. Then he beheaded the archdemon."
The inquisitor looked surprised.
"Loghain Mac Tyr was not a evil man. Some of the decisions that he made were poor, and some were very poor. He saw Orlais as more of a threat than the blight, and he redeemed all of those errors at the end, with his life and soul." He told the elf, his voice serious. "In peace, vigilance. In war, victory. In death, sacrifice."
-000-000-
To his great lack of surprise, as he recounted his encounter with the Dragon in the frostbacks, he felt his wife's glare on the back of his neck, and distinctly felt as if the short hairs on the nape of his neck were about to ignite for the rest of his conversation with the inquisitor.
Finally, he turned around, briefly.
"Darling," he said. "I don't need to have my hair set on fire again."
His son giggled, remembering the blistering row over the contents of a tax chest Morrigan had borrowed from a mail coach, along with a shipment of jewellery. Eragon had insisted that the taxes and jewellery were returned, without being minus any items. Morrigan, meanwhile, had wanted to keep about a dozen items from the jewellery selection, along with a fifth of the contents of the tax chest, and a row had ensued, resulting in the accidental ignition of the Warden's hair. Neither of them actually blamed the other. The witch, however, got to keep the jewellery, and a tenth of the tax money.
Morrigan visibly blushed, before transferring her gaze onto a group of adolescent females from noble families decked out in a imitation of her garments, seemingly competing to be the least modest. It didn't take long for a particularly minimalist interpretation to suffer the failure of a shoulder-strap, sending the bevy scuttling for cover.
"We'll talk later, my love." She said, sweetly. The Warden just winced.
Then he transferred his gaze back to the inquisitor, noticing that she seemed to be slightly displaying her attributes for him. Morrigan also noticed, and coughed. The breasts seemed to retract slightly, and the hips stopped being slightly thrust out.
The elf looked slightly embarrassed, before gesturing her command team of two forward.
"Cullen Rutherford?" He asked, not disguising the incredulity in his voice.
"My day just gets better." The templar said. "Commander of the Grey Eragon Cousland." He continued. "You are going to have to bring that up, aren't you?"
"I hope you are feeling better." The warden said, politely. "How long did it take Surana to find you?"
"Not nearly long enough." Cullen muttered. "It took her about fifteen minutes, once the tower had been cleared. She'd barricaded herself in a study room, with enough of a slot to dissuade demons with one of her staves. The one that walked through the wall was a regular abomination, and forgot that magi staves are up to seven feet of bog oak. I ended up being 'Counselled' in there for two days. I don't remember much of it, only that she'd lost most of her robes along the way."
"That's the first time I've heard it called that." Eragon replied, with a chuckle.
"Well, she couldn't exactly tell Irving and Greagoir what we were doing, not that they didn't know all about it. We weren't the only ones..." He said. "When the circles rebelled, she... didn't make it out of the tower. I had been posted to Kirkwall by then, so it was only when a few of the Fereldan mages arrived that I learnt her fate."
"I'm sorry." The warden said, gently.
"She was just... good." He said, sadly. "She downed dozens of Templars to keep them out of the young apprentice quarters before they were all out of the window. Every child survived because of her sacrifice. She... died... a hero."
"What exactly is your role here?" Eragon asked the templar, curiously.
"Commander of the inquisition forces. In other words, I give orders to everyone who isn't one of the elite team, and make sure that there is food and water available for the troops." Cullen explained. "I train them with arms, and inquisitor Lavallan leads them in battle from the front with a few of her specialists for back up." His voice caught slightly as he said the inquisitor's name. Ah. He wants a closer professional relationship than colleagues. Cousland realised. She's another elf, and she doesn't look too dissimilar to Surana. I wonder if he has the balls to ask her to love him.
Then a woman he'd noticed on the balcony as part of the command group of the inquisition stepped forward, wearing a cloth-of-gold ruffled shirt, with what appeared to be...
"Are you wearing mother-of-pearl for armour?" He demanded, trying to hold in a chuckle.
"Well, it is very fashionable in Antiva." The woman replied, with the same lilting accent he remembered from Zevran. The rest of her clothes were equally ornate and clearly not intended to be worn anywhere with thorn bushes or darkspawn nearby. Her face was somewhere between milky coffee and builder's tea in colour, with dark brown hair and chestnut eyes. There was something in her stance that confused him, but he quickly realised that she had been given a very small amount of weapon training when she was younger. "Leliana said you were handsome, but I admit, she did not ever do your appearance justice."
"I see." He said,injecting a warning tone into his voice. "And you are the local diplomat?"
"I serve the inquisition as chief diplomat, yes. Among my other roles, mostly centred around supplying goods and supplies, of which this fortress needs a great many." She quickly realised her mistake, and moved swiftly away from the subject. "The number of carts this fortress needs each day, and the supplies that requires in turn... we need close to thirty carts of fodder a day, and several of those go feeding the animals pulling the fodder carts."
"Logistics is something so many commanders forget. War isn't about just simply marching a army into position, and beating up another army. I read in one book that it takes six men to support a knight of the realm in the field, and two to put a man at arms in the field and keep them there for any period."
"Tell me about it. When we marched on a small fortification held by the Red Templars, we had five hundred soldiers, and seventeen hundred camp followers, plus another three hundred or so following them. At least we weren't feeding the whores and their train."
"Ahem." He heard behind the chattering antivian.
"Ah. Warden Commander Cousland, this is Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast. She has a few more names than that..."
"Get on with it, Josephine." The imposing woman said.
"She is one of the founding members of the inquisition, and served Divine Justinia as the Right Hand of the Divine."
Another figure stepped forwards, coming most of the way up to the diplomat's chest.
"Varric Tethras at your service." He said, politely. "I'm the guy in charge of making sure the seeker doesn't throw people in prison for fun, and beat them up when she doesn't like the answers." Cassandra made a noise of disgust. "I also take a few notes."
"Tethras... Morrigan seem...ed to like one of your books." The warden said, noting the slight shift of muscles that promised a certain degree of marital discord if he continued the current train of thought."
"I still need to get hold of my publisher in Orlais." The dwarf muttered. "I signed more copies at the winter palace than the previous year. 'Don't sell in orlais' my arse." Still muttering, the dwarf stepped aside.
"This is Solas. He's an elven mage, and our expert on the rift phenomena."
"A pleasure, Solas." The warden said, receiving a silent nod in return.
The next figure to appear dwarfed both human and mage.
"This is the..." Josephine began, before a hand about the size of a shovel dropped out of the sky and covered her mouth, nose, and face.
"I'm Iron Bull, leader of the Bull's Chargers mercenary company." He said, as Josephine wormed, trying to extract her face from behind the Bull's hand. He had his thumb and index finger behind her ears, making escape almost impossible.
"You are bigger than the Arishok. I am impressed."
"You know him?"
"We fought together when he was a Sten." The warden said. "He was damned good backup when you were going into a darkspawn nest."
"Hey, get out of the way!" He heard from behind the imposing Qunari. "I want to meet the wardeny heroey person."
Reluctantly, Bull stepped out of the way, allowing a blonde elf, slightly taller than most, to step through. Her build was more reminiscent of a human than an elf, despite the pointed ears. "I'm Sera.l She said, giving an impression of hyperactivity and slight difference in her way of thinking. "So, you are the warden, right? Only, I heard he was almost untouchable in a fight, and you look like you've been touched quite a bit."
"Dodging a twenty ton high dragon is a bit of an ask." Eragon said. "They aren't exactly slow and ungainly, and those claws can do damage." He told her. "It ended up carrying off my shield."
"Anyway." Josephine broke in, quickly, ushering Sera away quickly. "This is Enchanter Vivienne."
"She's a right... orlesian" he heard Morrigan mutter, clearly avoiding the use of more pungent language in front of Kieran.
"I am so pleased to make the acquaintance of such a valiant figure." The mage stated. "I am sure that the recent excitement at Adamant Fortress was not something that you had any part of."
"My lady, I was the far side of the Anderfels until a few weeks ago. The happenings in this part of the world were entirely outside of my knowledge."
"Did you feel that fake calling?" Morrigan hissed.
He turned, before smiling at his wife. "I felt something, and my dreams were worse for a few months, starting just after that massive explosion."
"You felt that the far side of the Anderfels?" Morrigan and Josephine asked, almost together.
"It dropped chimney pots halfway to Kossith, by all accounts. A tsunami came ashore, I heard, in lake Calanhad." He clarified. "I heard it as it sprayed my horse with the contents of a hedgerow."
"I see. And you didn't bother to contact me at all when that happened."
"I'll make it up to you." He told her with a boyish grin.
Vivienne had moved away during the minor grade martial dispute.
Josephine gestured to the final member of the elite crew. "This is Dorian."
"I'm a tevinter mage, but not a magistar." The unwholesomely good looking man said, while Josephine glanced around, before gesturing to a soldier.
"Has anyone seen Warden Blackwall?" She asked.
"Blackwall?" Cousland asked, putting on his Warden-Commander, Ferelden, hat.
"Did you know him?" She asked. "He killed his share of darkspawn during the blight, from what he says."
"Morrigan, do you remember that... mystery near Calanhad a year or two ago? That man claiming to be a Warden, and training the locals, who disappeared before Nathaniel arrived?"
"Lots of hair, marcher accent and a beard?" She asked.
"That's the fellow." Cousland said. "Does that sound like your warden?"
"Well... Yes. Leliana checked him out, of course, but she seems to have a blind spot with wardens."
"That would explain that, then." He said, growling slightly.
Author's note: this chapter is more or less a filler, although it does set in play the first strand of plot I've thought up. I apologise for not characterizing all of the companions, but I normally use Bull/Blackwall/Cassandra, Varric or Sera, and Solas, although I keep everyone at full gear where I can, in case I need to put a specific character in the field. I can't stand Vivienne, for some reason.