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Apologies for the delay, Christmas, New Years and other stuff got in the way. The story nevertheless continues, Enjoy.
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After one week in the tower Rincewind was desperate. Everything in this circle was wrong. Back in the Unseen University, which he was remembering fondly (a troubling sign in itself) he could look forward to doing no work whatsoever and enjoying a steady supply of fine meals and strong liquor. Here the food was sparse and plain while the alcohol was restricted to the senior members of the Circle. Now as a junior apprentice drink was off limits and evenings were spent studying magical theory or listening to mind numbing sermons about the evils of magic. This was followed by lights out at sundown in a messy, overcrowded dormitory full of noisy children.
All of these irritations were however were tinged with fear. The Templars watched everyone and it was easy to see the underlying tension still in the Circle. The fact that the mages had so recently rebelled and how close that had come to total disaster wasn't going to be forgotten anytime soon. The best Rincewind could say was that the Knight Commander was fair minded, in a strict sort of way. But more than a few of the Templars were nursing grudges for the casualties they suffered and argued for ever harsher rules, along with sadistic punishments to go alongside.
But what baffled the wayward Wizard most was the attitude of his fellow mages. Most didn't mind the Templars constant glares and threats; they seemed to think it was normal. The most unhinged, 'Loyalists' as they called themselves believed that all magic was evil and any constraint was entirely justified, though thankfully they were a minority. The rest busied themselves with repairing the tower and excitedly gossiping about the Grey Warden treaty that would allow them to get outside…and fight Darkspawn. Why this was a good thing simply mystified Rincewind.
Madhouse was the conclusion constantly going though his head A complete Madhouse.
With all this in mind Rincewind had decided to escape…somehow. A tower in the middle of a small island with only one, heavily guarded door wasn't an easy proposition but he had been in tighter spots. Still he had to think of something better than his last resort.
Said last resort involved a desert spoon he smuggled out of the dining room, for digging a tunnel under the lake, should be ready in a few decades.
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Odin Brosca starred at the impressive vista that had just come into view. "So this is Soldier's Peak? Pretty damn impressive, and your certain no one has been here since the Wardens two hundred years ago?"
"Absolutely, everyone is convinced that it's haunted." Levi Dryden smiled nervously, dearly hoping that this was only a rumour.
"Haunted eh?" Odin turned to Morrigan "Do you sense anything?"
"The fade is strong here; whatever happened here it is likely we'll encounter demons." Morrigan paused "Why are you grinning at me like?"
"You look wonderful when you're talking magic." replied a rather smug looking Dwarf.
"I look wonderful all the time, but do not get distracted by it. If you die it would be unfortunate."
"I knew you cared."
"I meant Alistair would then be in charge and we would all end up dead you foolish dwarf!"
"Hey!" yelled Alistair, looking rather indignant, even if he privately agreed with the witch's assessment of his leadership skills.
"Can we please get back to dealing with this fortress?" said an exasperated Wynne.
"Oh fine, weapons out everyone this could get interesting."
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Warden Avernus, the last survivor of the siege of Soldiers Peak, powerful mage and extremely old man had a routine.
It was a simple routine but it had kept him sane these last two hundred years. Get up after a few hours sleep, make sure his home was still standing and the demons were contained, have several home-brewed potions to stay functioning and continue research.
Right now he was frustrated. Most of his studies were based around trying to seal the veil and banish the demons that he had summoned. It had been a desperate act to save his fellow Wardens from defeat but he had miscalculated. The demons broke free of his control slaughtering friend and foe alike. He could be reverse his spells but doing so would require him to go to his old summoning circles, where he would be torn to pieces by angry demons the moment he focused on undoing the rituals that brought them here. The best he could do was guard his tower and stop the demons from spreading beyond the walls. In his first few decades of isolation he had been dedicated to finding away round this conundrum but in the end all that time had been for nought. Without the help and protection of others this mighty fortress, his home, would belong to the demons.
Since then he had kept himself busy with all manner of different experiments, constantly hampered by his limited resources and inability to travel. Still he had extended his own life span far beyond that of a Grey Warden, or anyone else for that matter. He had unlocked many secrets that even the Tevinter Imperium might not know.
A pity I never got to visit, a thought that often crossed the old mages' mind when he was feeling reflective. The things I could have learnt!
Still a chance to escape, a very slim one, had come to Avernus recently. Well fairly recently, 10 years? 20? Perhaps it was 30? It was difficult to keep track of such things after a couple of centuries. Nevertheless at some point a young scavenger had come within range of the castle. Close enough for Avernus to contact him, albeit only in vague dreams. Still it was enough to guide him through the tunnels to the gates and warn him of the dangers within. While he could not read the young lad's mind there did seem to be a sense of determination and a desire to return. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on his part.
This musing once again brought Avernus back to his present frustrations. He had delayed his death for as long as possible but that time was running out and the moment it did all the spells holding back the demonic tide would end. His greatest mistake would be unleashed to ravage all the land nearby. His increasingly desperate attempts to stop this were further hampered by the increasingly strong Darkspawn dreams he had been receiving in the last few months and now his concentration was again disrupted by all the noise coming from outside his study.
Wait a moment, noise?
Demons and the walking dead did not fight each other; more's the pity, which meant…
Avernus reached out with his senses, hoping against hope… yes! He could feel it, Wardens. Two of them he guessed and… the young lad had returned after all, older and wise enough to get the right kind of help.
The old man prepared himself; his redemption may be at hand.
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It was done, the summoning circles were sealed and the Fortress was cleansed. Avernus walked over and sat down in his favourite armchair next to the fire for the first time in two hundred years.
It was still fairly comfy; he felt rather smug that his preservation spells had been so effective.
Odin Brosca was looking round, also quite pleased. As far as he was concerned this castle was more or less his by right of inheritance. Thanks to that rather gullible possessed copse that used to be Commander Sophia Dryden he had recovered a large chest full of gold. He also had his eye on that fine set of armour she had been wearing. Only proper he should have it, he was the current Warden Commander, in practice anyway.
The others had profited to, Alistair got a fine long sword hidden behind a picture. Apparently it had belonged to the first Warden Commander of Ferelden and had some powerful, Darkspawn killing, enchantments on it; he looked a bit awestruck when it was given to him. Odin had no doubt he use it properly. Morrigan had found a new staff that suited her nicely, hidden in a vase for some reason. There was bound to be more good stuff scattered about but there was something else that needed to be done.
"All right you lot" announced Odin to his rag tag band of misfits "We've done good work here but there are still a few things to do. Sort yourselves out into two groups. Sweep the place for any more foes and anything we can use. Leliana, Zevran as our resident sneaky thieves it's up to you to find every hidden cache and pick every lock."
Zevran gave a mocking salute and headed off. Leliana raised an eyebrow.
"Sneaky Thief hm?"
"Well you are aren't you?"
"I prefer the term accomplished rouge."
"As you wish, you're still an expert lock picker and quite sneaky. You'd have gone far in the Carta with those skills, if you were a dwarf of course."
The raised eyebrow returned with vengeance.
"I'm flattered, really."
"You know what I mean."
The infuriating redhead smirked and headed out the room. The others prepared to follow.
"Not you Alistair, we need to have a chat with Avernus."
"Are you sure that's wise?" asked Wynne "The man is blood mage and responsible for a great deal of the tragedy that befell this place."
"I was" said Avernus, whose hearing had not diminished with age "and as repayment I held back the demonic forces, alone, for hundreds of years, all the while conducting research that could benefit many."
"Using blood magic to do so?" Retorted Wynne
Avernus looked her in the eye from his chair.
"Yes"
"Be that as it may" said Odin "I believe he has information we need about the Darkspawn."
"You trust him?" muttered Wynne, not wishing to be overheard again.
"In this case yes." Odin whispered back "he has already admitted to all of his mistakes and he has no reason to withhold information from us. The only one who would benefit would be the Archdaemon and his horde."
She sighed, "Be careful".
"Of course"
Odin and Alistair watched the door shut behind Wynne before approaching the armchair.
"You have a fascinating collection of people behind you Warden" said Avernus as they reached him "how do you manage to control them?"
"With great difficulty" replied Odin "and bribery."
"Oh that's just his modesty talking" added Alistair then turning to Odin. "You're quite good at leading us, fearless leader."
Odin let out a genuine smile "Thanks."
"I am particularly intrigued by that chest of yours" continued Avernus. "Portable storage mixed with such ruthless bloodlust. Furniture crossed with a rabid animal, an unusual idea but effective. Who made it?"
"No idea, we picked it up on the road" said Alistair.
After Odin told the story and subsequent adventures in rather more detail the Mage smiled in a way that only a mad scientist can "ah the things I could learn if I had the opportunity."
At that precise moment in one of the cellars the Luggage shuddered.
Pushing those pleasant thoughts to one side Avernus was now ready to find out their judgement. It had been delayed long enough.
"Before you begin your questions I wish to know what you intend for me" said Avernus starring into the fire, remembering a happier time.
Odin looked at the hunched old mage "I will not kill you, your mistakes were terrible but you were honest about them and tried to fix them. You can stay here for now; keep the place together until the Grey Wardens properly reclaim this place."
The old man's face was inscrutable "and my research?"
Odin and Alistair looked at each other. Odin spoke first "We need every advantage, continue."
"But" added Alistair "No more blood magic and no more summoning demons. The Wardens are better than that."
Odin nodded in agreement. Privately he didn't really have a problem with Blood magic or further experimenting but he had no wish to fight a second horde of undead and demons.
Avernus simply said "I accept your terms."
The three men starred into the fire once more enjoying the quiet after a long day. Finally the ancient Warden broke the silence.
"So, my young brothers, what do you wish to know?"
"Everything about the Darkspawn and the Blight, start at the beginning"
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