143. Good News and Bad News
As far as Finian could tell, Bodahn was making a killing off the collective armies... yet the merchant couldn't spring for a single actual discount. Which did not work out well, when one was trying to get a new dagger runed.
"Think about it... these are the daggers that could very well slay an archdemon and save Thedas. You should be paying me to enchant it!"
"Enchantment!" Sandal agreed from his seat by the cart, and Fin made a 'see?' motion.
Bodahn shook his head sadly. "No can do, Warden. After Orzammar closed its doors for so long, the price of lyrium is just too high."
"We gave you a bag of lyrium. Last time you were at Redcliffe, remember?"
The dwarf smiled and shrugged, and Finian sighed. It seemed he'd finally met his match... this dwarf was a haggling mastermind.
"Fine," Finian threw down the requested gold, missing the days where he just stole everything he wanted. Being honest was hard.
It wasn't like he could pickpocket a free enchantment anyway. Well... maybe he could bribe Sandal with a pasty or something when Bodahn's back was turned...
No no... he was trying to be a good citizen. That meant no stealing.
Well, okay... less stealing. He couldn't help but snag a coin out of an open purse every now and then, because, really, that was just asking to be pickpocketed.
He was somewhat starting to think Alistair was right, and he had something of a problem.
Delighted, Bodahn took the elf's off-hand dagger and triumphantly brought it to Sandal, who set about the precise, mystical work of inscribing a silverite rune into it.
The merchant's cart was settled just on the edge of town, where the army camps started on the road down to the town proper. Finian had once stood here while Kazar lit an entire path's worth of undead on fire.
And so, today, Finian was the first one to see the movement over the next hill... a stream of thick, armored forms, punctuated by the occasional tall walking suit of armor. The dwarves were arriving.
He whistled, impressed, as the army approached, because this was no token force... it was a thaig's worth of capable warriors, many who no doubt had actual experience fighting darkspawn. Their numbers appeared to be fewer than the human forces, but Finian would put a bet on them being far more deadly.
Delighted, he hopped up onto Bodahn's cart and waved. To his surprise, the marching force drew to a halt at the signal, and a pair of figures broke from the front and continued toward him alone.
He instantly recognized one as Morrigan—there was no other sillhouette in Thedas exactly like hers. The other was a dwarf: dark-haired, wearing fine armor, and with a relatively modest beard.
As they neared, Finian could see by the pinching of Morrigan's mouth that something was wrong. He hopped off the cart and trotted up to meet her. "What's the matter?"
"'Tis news out of the Deep Roads," she replied. "Come. We must speak with your minders immediately."
Finian nodded and turned to lead them back up toward the castle, where most of the Wardens were gathered today. As he passed Bodahn's cart, the merchant cried, "But your dagger, messere...?"
"You can drop it off at the castle when Sandal's done," Fin called back. "I'll even give you a tip if you do!" Then they were out of earshot and heading up the winding cliff-side road. As they passed under the portcullis, Fin flagged down the guards practicing in the yard. "Gather the Wardens!" he called. "Tell them to meet us in the great hall!"
The men scattered around the keep, hurrying to obey.
"So what, exactly, is going on?" Fin asked Morrigan as they climbed the castle's front steps.
"It's the darkspawn," said the dwarf. His accent was closer to Marnan's than Garott's. High caste, then. "They're on the move."
"Where?"
"Legion of the Dead spotted the archdemon leaving the Deep Roads. Heading east."
"East? That would put it moving towards..." Fin suddenly felt weak, because they were south, and that suddenly seemed way too far in the wrong direction.
He turned into Redcliffe's great hall, where the bloodstains of the battle with Connor would never really fade no matter how hard the servants scrubbed. Teagan and Leliana were already there, no doubt alerted to something by the shouts and motion throughout the castle. One by one, the others arrived, including Eamon, and Meila slinking in through the front door.
Hugo bounded through the front entrance, alerting everyone to Percival's arrival, and Morrigan neatly side-stepped the dog's enthusiastic welcome. Upon seeing her face, Percy frowned. "Morrigan? Is something wrong?"
"I'd say there is," Garott chuckled as he slipped through the opposite door. "That idiot sent Gavorn as a diplomat?"
"Be mindful of how you speak of your king, Brosca," the dwarf said.
"Heh, king. Guy's practically my brother at this point."
Gavorn huffed, and the last of their group—Wynne and Felicity—arrived.
"So?" Eamon pressed. "What's so urgent as to call us all together like this?"
Morrigan and Gavorn exchanged a look, then looked as one at Fin.
Oh boy. "Well..." Finian started. "There's good news and bad news." He offered them all what he hoped was an encouraging smile, only to be met with concern. "The good news is we no longer have to find a way to lure the archdemon out of the Deep Roads."
They got the meaning, judging by the number of widened eyes and clenched fists.
"Where," Percy asked, "exactly are we going to need to lure it from, then?"
"That's the bad news." He cast a glance back at Morrigan, who nodded grimly. "From the sounds of it... Denerim."
A chorus of curses and hisses met the announcement.
"Why would it be going there?" Leliana asked. "It has always avoided the big cities in the past."
"It's seeking to replenish its numbers," Felicity said in slow realization. "After what Kazar did to it in the Dead Trenches, it lost a good number of its horde... so its heading for the largest population center nearby."
"We have to head north, then," Kazar said. "Cut it off before it hits the darkspawn buffet."
"Wouldn't work," Percival said. He paced the room. "We'd only fall behind it anyway. We need to head northeast to cut off its path."
"How fast was it going?" Felicity asked, turning to Morrigan and Gavorn.
The dwarf shrugged. "Search me. I only heard this from the Legion... they didn't give me much by way of details."
"Then we have to assume the worst," Alistair said. He took a breath and raised his voice, and Finian was once again proven that they'd done the right thing in making him king. "We have to move out immediately... I want everyone suited up and ready to go within the hour." He motioned to the guards watching the door. "Spread the word! One hour, and we march for Denerim!" The Redcliffe soldiers nodded and took off running.
"So this is it," Percival whispered.
"Not quite," Felicity said. "Before we go, there's something I think Riordan and I need to discuss with the Wardens."
"Ah, come on," Oghren said, "you can trust us."
"It is not about trust, I'm afraid," Riordan said. "There are some secrets that only Grey Wardens can know." He sighed and nodded. "Come, brothers and sisters. We will go discuss this someplace private." Riordan motioned them back through the doors.
Finian knew a bit about reading people, so he couldn't help but detect all the secret looks exchanged between the two of them. He'd expected something like this for a while. Wordlessly, he threw a wink at Zevran, who perched in the corner, frowning, and followed the other Wardens back through the winding halls to hear this mysterious secret.