The Keening Blade

Chapter 4: It's Gorgeous Once You Wipe Off the Demon Slime

An imposing castle, yes: but something was wrong with Soldier's Peak. An unnatural brightness sparkled in the frosty air.

Morrigan frowned, lifting her head to sniff like the wolf she sometimes was. "Be cautious," she told Loghain. "The Veil has been torn in this place. There is nothing here to separate us from the demons of the Fade."

"Fucking demons," Maude sighed.

The portcullis loomed overhead. Loghain could hardly believe that a fortress abandoned for more than two hundred years could look like this. They stepped into the courtyard, and the air around them made a sucking noise.

Loghain winced at the pain in his ears, and suddenly before them were soldiers: an angry nobleman in silverite plate talking to a man at arms. Other soldiers milled about them, shouting and waving their weapons. None of them noticed the intruders among them. Loghain reached out to touch the man at arms, and his hand passed through the being without hindrance. A vision. An extraordinarily realistic one.

"-We starve them out, then!" the nobleman snarled.

As suddenly as it had appeared, the vision was gone, and they were alone on the Peak. But not for long.

"Oh, no!" Maude complained. "Walking dead! I hate these guys!"

Skeletal enemies lunged at them, grinning. Loghain bashed at them with the pommel of the Keening Blade. The girl beheaded one, and the skull spun and cracked against Loghain's shield. Morrigan froze them in place. One by one they were hacked to pieces and destroyed.

"More of them!" Morrigan shouted, pointing behind them to a slope near one of the towers. One of the dead was casting spells. Ranger bayed at the attackers, and barreled toward them, knocking them flying. There were archers among them. Loghain heard a curious clang, and looked over to see the girl knocking an arrow aside with her sword and then another with her dagger. Impressive reflexes, but he already knew that.

Within a few moments, these foes too were scattered bones and dust. The girl bent over the creatures, no doubt to see if two hundred year old skeletons would have possessions of value.

"Loghain! Look at what they're wearing!"

Tattered and stained though they were, Loghain recognized the garments. He had seen them long ago, when the order was permitted to return to Ferelden, and that band of Orlesian troublemakers had descended on Denerim, dragging Maric off to an adventure that had nearly cost Ferelden its king.

"Grey Warden tunics," he told her. "Duncan did not insist his men wear them."

"We have a uniform?" The girl was delighted. "I have got to have one of these! Only not all rotten and disgusting, of course. Ooo! I like the griffon thing on it!"

"You would," he muttered.

The broad steps leading to the Keep were in fine condition. No invading plants had broken the stones apart. The whole place seemed curiously free of weeds and vermin. Loghain put his shoulder to the wide and heavy doors and pushed them open. Light filtered down through grimy windows to reveal a high beamed hall.

And another vision. Maude came to Loghain's side, her dark eyes enormous, as she watched the story unfold before them.

The misty figures were Wardens. One, a mage named Avernus, was reporting low morale to a slender woman in splendid plate armor, whom he called "Sophia."

Sophia Dryden, then: last Warden Commander in Ferelden before the return of the order twenty years ago. The edges of the woman were blurred, but her voice was clear and powerful.

"Men, I won't lie to you. The situation is grim: our forces outnumbered, our bellies empty, and our hearts are sagging. But we are Wardens! Darkspawn flee when they hear our horns. Archdemons die when they taste our blades. So are we to bend knee to a mere human despot? No! I, for one, will never give up! I, for one will never surrender, just to dance on Arland's gallows..."

Despite the vague images and the gulf of centuries, Loghain felt something of the woman's burning spirit. He glanced at the girl. Her eyes were shining. Clearly, she found Sophia Dryden inspiring. Cut from the same cloth, of course, bloody aggravating women. The vision ended, and they moved on to other rooms and the demons in them.

More visions: what had happened was becoming clearer. Some of Sophia's aristocratic friends had rebelled against King Arland, who appeared to have been a murdering swine. They begged her for help, and the Wardens had been caught up in the war, and destroyed by it. It had ended in this very place over two hundred years ago, as the Wardens fought the king's men from room to room. Skeletons littered the dusty floors. The remains of hasty fortifications lay splintered about. The old archive of the Wardens, half burned, was in tantalizing reach. Who knew what secrets were here?

They climbed a flight of stairs, and found themselves in a little sitting room, More steps took them up to the next floor proper, a wide expanse containing the remains of a large and handsome dining table. As they moved further into the chamber, more demons arose to contest them. Another vision appeared: Sophia and her mage lieutenant Avernus, raising demons to fight the enemy—demons which turned on the defenders as well. The Veil was indeed torn, and the demons had been the only real victors at Soldier's Peak.

Another flight of stairs took them higher into the castle, to a chapel and to more of the walking dead.

"Walking dead and raspberry jam?" Maude complained. "There's raspberry jam on the votive candles! What kind of chapel is smeared with raspberry jam?"

"What kind of chapel is full of mindless zombies?" Loghain wondered, laying another one low.

"All chapels," Morrigan shot back. "And that looks like blood to me. How do you know it's raspberry jam?"

"I tasted it," the girl replied loftily, finishing off the last of the monsters. "It's not blood, it's raspberry jam. I checked."

Kicking a skeleton aside, Loghain snarled at her. "Didn't your parents ever teach you not to put strange red substances in your mouth?" He thought again. "Or any strange substances?"

"I know about mushrooms," she replied. "I'm not an idiot, you know."

"Well, here's a new rule," he snapped at her. "Loghain's New Rule. Don't go putting anything in your mouth unless you're absolutely certain you know what it is. And that it's harmless. Do you think you can remember that?"

The girl rolled her eyes at Morrigan. "I would have starved whenever Alistair cooked, then. No one could ever figure out what he made. Even after tasting it."

There was a door to the left. The girl pushed it open, peered inside, and then backed away, clearly alarmed. Loghain was so surprised at such a reaction that he pushed in front of her.

A large room: a fire burning cheerfully on a filthy hearth, crumbling bookshelves, a wide and dusty table littered with maps and books, and behind it...

The woman in splendid armor had her back to them. Her hair was far shorter than the girl's, but the same bright brown. Loghain approached, the girl just behind and to his side, the dog and the witch close at hand. Morrigan's eyes narrowed.

Then the woman in armor turned to them, and Loghain saw that whatever it had been, it was a woman no more. It was possible to recognize the remains of Sophia Dryden in that rotting face, but the spirit that had once dwelt there had been—replaced.

"Come no farther, Warden!" the demon called to Loghain in an eerie, low-pitched voice. It was a voice that had never issued from a living human throat—certainly never a woman's. "This one would speak to you."

Ranger lowered his head and growled.

The demon snarled back. "Get that annoyance away from me!"

Loghain put his hand on Ranger's head to restrain him, and studied the monster. It might have information.

"Why should I speak with you?"

The demon laughed, a horrible sound.

"Because the Peak is mine! I am the Dryden. Sophia. Commander. All of those things."

"You shouldn't talk to it!" Maude burst out. "It's just an ugly, stupid demon who stole a brave woman's body! Demons never have anything worthwhile to say, and they trap you in the Fade and try to bore you to death!"

"Your fledgling should mind its place!" the demon raged at Loghain. "It should be meek, subservient, quiet…" The demon turned contemptuously from Maude and spoke again to Loghain. "This one would propose a deal."

"Are you talking to Loghain?" Maude asked, her silvery voice trembling with menace. "Are you talking to Loghain? Are you talking to Loghain instead of me? Do you think I'm some sort of flunky, you putrid body-thief?" She exploded. "I haven't been fighting the length and breadth of Ferelden for a year so some third-rate demon can treat me like the hired help!"

With that, she stuck her dagger in the blackened throat and twisted. The demon appeared entirely surprised, and attempted a belated resistance. Loghain was impressed with the overpowering ferocity of the girl's attack. The demon was thrown backwards onto the desk, and the girl set to work beheading it.

"Who owns the Peak now?' she screamed, sawing at the rotten neck while the creature squawked and flopped. The dog worried the mottled wrist until the sword in it fell clanging to the stone floor.

"Well? Who owns the Peak? Call me a fledging? Tell me to be meek? Fuck you!"

More walking dead rose from the floor, shambling toward them. Loghain decided the girl and her dog had the Demon Sophia situation well in hand, and he and Morrigan set about destroying the other dangers. It took only a few minutes. He stood back, listening to the girl rant at rotting, scattered body parts.

"Holy Andraste, I hate shit like you! Just bustle on back through the Veil and hide, because I've never met a demon I couldn't wipe the floor with! And get a facial while you're at it, because you look even more like crap than you did before I killed you!"

Loghain wondered if he should intervene. The girl appeared completely unhinged. Morrigan reached out a restraining hand.

"I have seen her thus only once before. With the man Howe." Morrigan gave him a cold smile. "Of course, he had just taunted Maude with how he killed her mother. A fool who suffered a fool's end."

The echoing silence of battle's aftermath filled the room. The girl had slid down the side of the stone table, and was now sitting on the floor, eyes closed. The dog trotted over whining, and licked her face.

She opened her eyes. Dreamily, she murmured, "Loghain…"

"I think it's dead," Loghain told her. "But chop off a few more bits if it amuses you."

"No, I feel better now," she assured him. She studied the festering remains before her. "That armor is absolutely fabulous."

"We don't have time for this…"

"Not now, but later," she said, still staring at it. "It's absolutely fabulous, and it's just my size."

"It is disgusting," Morrigan sneered.

"It is not," the girl huffed. "It has griffons on it, and blue enamel. It'll be gorgeous, once I've wiped off the demon slime. I like it. It's mine now. Don't let me forget to come back and get it. It's absolutely fabulous, and I shall look absolutely fabulous in it."

Her unleashed wrath had left her a little unsteady on her feet. She leaned against Loghain and smiled up at him blissfully. "Let go see the rest of our new home."

A door led to a high bridge connecting the Keep to a freestanding tower. A few more walking dead opposed them momentarily. Stepping cautiously through the door to the tower, Loghain could feel that something was different here. This place gave the distinct impression of being inhabited.

Another room was filled with books and notes and potions bottles. Loghain stopped to have a look, but the girl was pressing on to yet another door. She reached out for the knob, and quite suddenly her face lit with delight.

"There's a Warden in the next room!" She turned to Loghain, pink with excitement. "Know how you were told we can sense darkspawn? We can sense each other, too! There's a Warden in there! Maybe he needs help!"

So of course she had to run right through the door and up the stairs inside. There was nothing to be done but run after her.

A vast and lofty space. Cold air filled the room, let in through a large broken window high in the far wall. A human voice, cracked with age, called out:

"I hear you! Don't disrupt my concentration."

Nearly bald, with eyebrows white with age, but still tall and straight, a mage confronted them from the far end of the room, up on a dais filled with flasks and measuring devices.

He studied the four intruders before him, and spoke to Loghain.

"Even now the demons seek to replenish their numbers. Are you to thank for this welcome if temporary imbalance?"

"It's the Warden mage! He's alive!" Maude said excitedly, recognizing him in spite of the additional years. "You're Avernus, aren't you? This is amazing?"

"I am indeed Avernus," the mage replied. "And I am alive, though only just. My magic can do only so much. Over the past year I have been plagued with dreams and visions. My end cannot be far off."

"You're not dying," the girl informed Avernus, very earnestly. "That must be the Blight you're dreaming about. We dream about it, too."

Avernus's surprise was manifest. "Blight? There is a Blight in Thedas?

"Right here in Ferelden," the girl assured him. "I've even dreamed of the Archdemon. The darkspawn have been swarming up from the south for months."

"I see." Avernus seemed absolutely taken aback. He turned to Loghain, and spoke seriously. "You have come to reclaim the peak for the Wardens, of course. An admirable goal. Will they be arriving soon? We have much to do!"

Loghain blew out a breath. Maude shrugged, and told the old mage the truth.

"At the moment, we represent the largest gathering of Wardens in Ferelden. Most of the Fereldan Wardens were wiped out in the first big battle against the darkspawn. There are only the four of us, and an Orlesian named Riordan who came to help us—yes, he did, Loghain—and Alistair, but Alistair doesn't want to be a warden if Loghain's a warden, so he's back in Denerim, saying he's resigned—"

Avernus was deeply shocked. "And you did not slay him?"

"No. He's got to be king. I know about the Warden thing, but we've sort of run out of candidates. So here we have Loghain and you and me and Ranger, and that's that."

"But your charming companion is not a warden. Not that I can sense, anyway."

Loghain interpreted. "The mage's name is Morrigan, and as you say, she is not a warden. Maude was referring to her dog."

Ranger grinned doggily, and wagged his stubby tail.

Morrigan rolled her eyes. "Charmed to make your acquaintance."

"Five wardens—and a dog?" Avernus was thunderstruck. "And a Blight in Ferelden?"

Maude scowled. "Six wardens and a Blight, yes. Without you there are just five, so I'm awfully glad to meet you. We have a party of companions who travel with us, and they'll be glad to meet you, too. We'd better set out at first light and join them."

"Leave the Peak?"

"Of course." Maude regarded him blankly. "There's a Blight. With darkspawn. You're a Warden. You need to come with us and kill darkspawn. Of course, we'd like to make Soldier's Peak safe, too, since we're going to need to sleep here tonight."

"That might be an improvement," Loghain agreed.

The old mage was still thinking over the girl's extraordinary proposal. "Leave the Peak? After all this time? And yet—why not?" he muttered to himself. "Perhaps it is for this that I have lived all these years!"

He pulled himself straight, and spoke again. To Loghain, of course, who enjoyed the girl's manifest annoyance.

"Come!" said the old mage. "We must cut the demons off forever."

They began walking back to the keep. Loghain asked, "What do we need to do?"

"I shall unravel the summoning circles I made so long ago. While I do so, waves of demons will come through the Veil. You must dispatch them."

"Wait!" Maude cried. "I want to know what happened here? The battle—the demons you summoned—were you fighting the king?"

"So much for our grand rebellion," sighed the old mage. "It seemed so pressing then, but the kingdom lives on and has forgotten us. Arland ruled with fear and poison. Sophia's friends begged for her help, so we met with Teyrn Cousland. With him on our side we had a chance of success."

"Cousland!" Maude beamed. "That's my family! We're always rebelling against something or other."

Avernus caught Loghain's eye, and then gave the girl a little ironic smile.

"I last saw Teyrn Cousland's decapitated head on their meeting table with an apple in his mouth. You lost many family members that day. Arland's butchers slaughtered enough to make them-pliable. And that was the end of that. The rest you know. " He considered her. "It is uncommon for someone from the great noble families to become a warden."

" I'm not the only one. Loghain here used to be Teyrn of Gwaren."

"You are a member of the Voric family? I know them."

"No." Loghain answered. "They were all killed during the Orlesian occupation."

Avernus was quite still, and then asked, "The Orlesian occupation? The Orlesians—invaded us?"

Maude sighed deeply, and raised her brows at Morrigan. "Now we'll be here all night."

"Yes," Loghain told him, outraged that any Fereldan might not know the story of their vile and iniquitous neighbors. "The filthy Orlesians invaded and ruled Ferelden for nearly a century. Half of us were slaughtered and the rest treated like dogs."

Ranger barked disagreement.

"—worse than dogs," Loghain corrected himself. "Some of the nobles turned Orlesian bootlickers and murdered the rightful queen. We drove the bastards out, but they're still sniffing at us, looking for weakness."

"Infamous!" Avernus responded, very indignant. "I most deeply regret that I did not know."

"Actually, it was Loghain who drove the Orlesians out," Maude told Avernus, very proud of her companion. "That's why the King made him Teyrn of Gwaren."

"But he's a warden now?"

"Yes—I dueled him and he lost, and he had to join the Wardens."

Avernus raised his brows and regarded Loghain with evident skepticism.

"She cheated," Loghain said bitterly.

Triumphant, the girl grinned and tapped her chest. "Warden! 'Whatever means necessary,' after all! I knew we needed Loghain."

"This self-congratulation is all very well," Morrigan remarked, "but ought we not be slaying demons?"

Avernus nodded. "True. The young lady speaks good sense. We should heed her advice."

Wave after wave indeed: rage demons, hunger demons, ash wraiths. None of them were individually formidable, but there were so many of them. Even Maude was looking harassed by the end, which produced at last a voluptuous female spirit, clothed in what appeared to be gold chains strategically located. She whimpered orgasmically as she died. Loghain found himself staring at her impressive figure, and wondered if he was completely depraved.

"A desire demon," the girl told him. "Haven't you ever seen one of those? I run into them all the time. They nearly wiped out the Templars at the Circle, which only goes to show. Stupid creatures. That was the sort of thing that got hold of Arl Eamon's son, too." She scowled, tugging Loghain away as the demon's essence dissipated. "I suppose they think they're very erotic and all that, but they're very silly and vulgar, really!"

"If I am truly to leave the Peak after so long, I believe I must make some serious preparations," Avernus said to Loghain. "Call me when you are ready to leave in the morning." He mused. "Extraordinary! An adventure, after all these years…"

"Wait!" Maude cried, running after the old mage. "Loghain! Come on!"

Both men stared at her. Maude gabbled out, "I just realized—you're a Senior Warden!"

"I am," Avernus replied. "Obviously."

"You don't understand! I've never had a chance to talk to a Senior Warden at length since I joined the Grey Wardens myself. I was only a Warden for a few hours before they were all killed except Alistair and me, and he had only been a Warden a few months, and he didn't know anything! I sort of made everything up as I went along for the past year. There's so much I don't know! I mean, some things I do know, of course, like—

"Enough!" Avernus raised his hand to silence her. "The other young woman is not a Warden, and we cannot speak freely in front of her. Come with me to my workroom, and I shall endeavor to answer your questions."

"I shall get some rest," Morrigan declared. "Do try not to make too much noise on your return, however despondent you are."

"Sorry, Morrigan!" the girl called over her shoulder, as she hurried after the two men. "This is so exciting!"

Loghain considered the vast workroom. "What was the purpose of your experiments?"

"To stop the demonic tide, of course, but originally to make the Warden's even more powerful. Our joining ritual is crude. The darkspawn taint has power, yet all it is used for is to sense the creatures. Much more is possible."

"Blood magic?" Loghain asked. It seemed obvious.

"Come, my fellow Warden. The very Joining itself is the darkest of Blood Magic. There is great strength in blood. Disregard the Chantry's lies for the children's tales they are. They know nothing, and invent rubbish to conceal their ignorance. Nothing is forbidden the Wardens. Honorable surrender is not an option when fighting darkspawn."

"All right!" Maude said, perching herself on the edge of his worktable. "We know about the shortened lifespan, and the Calling, and about constant hunger, and the nightmares."

Avernus was amused. "I doubt that you know all there is to know about any of those things."

"I daresay not," Loghain agreed. "and I wondered all year why you had not recruited more Wardens."

"I didn't know how!" the girl admitted.

"How can this be?" Avernus frowned. "If she—" he gestured at Maude, "—did not know how to perform the Joining, how did you become a Warden?"

"It was Riordan-" Maude explained.

"—that Orlesian," Loghain interrupted. "He was the one who thought it such a good idea for me to become a Warden. He's run off to scout the Archdemon's movements, without another word to us. We're to meet him in Redcliffe, where the armies are gathering, and presumably we'll talk then—if he survives at all."

"I hope he does," Maude said. "I thought there must be more to the Joining thing than just darkspawn blood, and I didn't want to risk poisoning anyone to no purpose."

"Quite sensible," Avernus agreed. "The Joining potion must also contain lyrium and a drop of archdemon blood. Even if someone survived drinking a cup of darkspawn blood, they would become nothing more than a ghoul, not a Grey Warden. So the first Grey Wardens found, in fact. If you want to make more Wardens, I have the necessary supplies."

"Do you?" Maude considered. "That's good to know. That might be something to try."

Loghain was growing impatient. "The single most essential gap in our knowledge however, is why the Grey Wardens insist they are even necessary! That has never been answered to my satisfaction. Grey Wardens claim that only they can stop a Blight, but I do not know why!"

Avernus looked at them, considering. "I shall tell you what you wish to know, but first, I have something for both of you," he said. "There will never be a better time." From a rack of vials, he selected one, and then after a moment, another.

"Drink this," he said, handing the first to Maude. She instantly drank it down before Loghain could make a grab for her.

"You little idiot!" he shouted, "What did I tell you about putting things in your mouth?"

The girl swayed, and then licked her lips. "Not raspberry. It's not bad though. I feel really good. Sort of—invincible, actually. You've got to try this, Loghain!"

"It is nothing to be feared," Avernus told Loghain in his dry, old-man's voice. "I would do nothing to compromise your effectiveness. Quite the contrary. As I said, the Joining ritual is crude. My refined formula will give you powers far beyond the mere sensing of darkspawn."

"Oh, come on, Loghain!" the girl teased him. "What's the worst that could happen? If we die, we don't have to see what Oghren's done to the North Road Inn!"

There was that, true. If he could drink darkspawn blood once, he could drink it again. And the girl didn't seem about to fall down dead. What the hell. Loghain lifted the vial in salute, and swallowed the contents.

And felt like he was being burned from the inside out. Before he could shout at the girl some more and then kill Avernus, the sensation passed, leaving power in its wake. He felt—good. More than good. He felt alive, the way he had felt when he fought the Orlesians: his youth beating in him like wings.

The girl was smiling at him, full of delight and mischief. Maker, she was pretty. In the last few minutes she had somehow become even more alluring. Along with renewed vigor came a surge of desire for her. The taint in her called out to him like a beloved old song.

"Feel better now, do you? Stronger?" Avernus asked. "Good. You will want all your strength as I explain exactly why only a Grey Warden can stop a Blight."

Thanks to all my reviewers: Amhran Comhrac, ByLanternLight, Aoihand, Piceron, Zyanic, Enaid Aderyn, mille libri, Eva Galana, Shakespira, Alpha Cucumber, Guile, Carnie Heart, mutive, Marching Madly Onward, Annara Ren, Angurvddel, GW Katrina, Persephone Chiara, and Reyavie. Thanks to all who have favorited or alerted or otherwise enjoyed this story. I am having so much fun with this, and I've at last got a good plot arc that will go through numerous chapters.

I couldn't resist doing something with Avernus. The Warden PC never gets to ask the big questions. This must be remedied!