Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or any of its related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other fans like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.
Rating: T+
Spoilers: May contain spoilers for Origins, Awakening, Origins DL content, and Dragon Age II as well as the novels The Stolen Throne and The Calling.
Chapter Sixty-Nine: Shale
"Quickly, order me to do something."
Loghain shook his jumbled thoughts clear, and his eye landed on a docile robin sitting on a crooked, broken fence post nearby. "All right. Kill that bird," he said.
"Well of course I feel compelled to do that," the golem said. "That's not a fair test. Order me to pick it up and carry it."
Loghain shrugged one shoulder in a haphazard gesture. "Very well, then. Pick it up and carry it," he said, thinking the golem meant the bird.
"And…nothing. I feel no compulsion to obey whatsoever. Odd. I suppose that must mean that the control rod is…broken?" The golem swiveled its oddly small, squat head and looked about. It's lyrium-blue eyes came to rest upon Loghain again and its voice took on a tone of disgust. "And what is it that holds my control rod now, anyway? Not a mage, I should think, and yet it roasted the little demon like a pig on a spit. What manner of creature is it?"
"It? Do you mean me? I'm a man - a human. In…complicated circumstances," Loghain said.
"Well, at least it is not a mage."
"I agree wholeheartedly with that assessment," Fenris said.
"Great. An anti-magic golem," Bethany said.
"My last master was a mage - a whiny, shrill, noisome little creature. 'Golem, do this; golem, do that. Golem, do be a dear and squish that bandit. Carry me, golem, for I tire of walking.'" The golem shook its head. "I'm told I killed it. I do not recall doing so, but I hope it is true. I expect I must have smiled while it squished."
It looked at Loghain again. "It was kind enough to wash some of the foulness off of me, and it roasted the annoying little brat that teased me mercilessly ever since the village died. It is perhaps not such a bad creature. Without the compulsion of the control rod, and with no very clear memory of what and who I am, I find myself very much at loose ends. It must have had some plan in mind for me, so tell me, what did it want with a golem?"
"It can think of myriad uses for a golem, all of which are moot when the golem in question is a thinking creature of free mind and will."
"But what are they? I have no purpose and no direction: if it cannot give me a clue, then I do not know what to do."
Loghain crossed his arms over his chest, threw one leg out, planted his heel in the dirt, and cocked his head to the side. "If I'd been stuck standing stock still in a town square for a decade or longer, I'd imagine that the first thing I'd want to do is kill every bloody bird in Creation."
"I like the way it thinks!" the golem said.
"There's a city, some miles to the northeast of here, called Denerim. It's been having some problems with demon-possessed pigeons. If you've a mind for vengeance, folks would be mighty grateful if you started there."
"But how could it kill birds?" Fenris asked. "It's made of stone, and moves rather slowly. Makes a good amount of noise, too."
"Strategy, Ser Fenris," Loghain said. "Pretend to be a statue, and take the little bloody buggers by surprise when they perch. It might not work forever but long enough to put a dent in the population, I should think."
"Oh ho, it is a creature after my own heart!" the golem said. "Is it going to this Denerim? I should follow it there, if so."
"It is, but not, perhaps, for some time."
"Nevertheless, it will go there eventually? I think I shall follow it all the same. I should be quite interested to see what it roasts next. My name, if it cares for such things, is Shale, by the way."
"Loghain Mac Tir," he said, and stuck out his hand. Shale looked at it, and then at him.
"I do not understand this gesture. What is it doing with its hand?"
"Offering it. To shake. That's what people do when they're introduced to one another."
"Is it? I do believe I recall seeing something of the sort somewhere along the line. Is it not afraid that I would crush its hand to powder in mine?"
"Will you?"
"I do not know, for I have never been made this offer before."
Loghain looked at the golem's huge stone hand for a moment, evincing some doubt, but then squared his shoulders and thrust his hand out again. "Wouldn't be the first time I've had a broken hand."
The golem shook hands with him, rather gingerly. "That is a strange custom, to say the least. I'm not sure I understand the purpose, but if the niceties have been observed, perhaps it will be so kind as to allow me a few minutes of time to collect some things?"
"You have possessions?" Loghain said in surprise.
"Not exactly. My late, unlamented master kept a laboratory in his cellar. The house is gone but the cellar may still exist - it went quite deep into the bedrock. Doubtless it would be dangerous for squishy creatures such as it to enter, but I daresay I will be safe enough provided I do not fall into the well. My master used to experiment upon me with what he called augmentation crystals. The experiments were quite disagreeable but the crystals were bloody useful, and rather slimming. I expect some of them might still remain down cellar."
"Well, if you want them you'd better get them. We'll be setting up camp down by the river: we squishy creatures need to rest for the night."
"It is very inferior in that regard, yes," the golem said, and stomped off in the direction of a husked-out tower.
"Fire breath and a talking golem. What a story this will make!" Varric said. "Ha! Nobody would ever believe it."
Bethany stirred the cookpot. "I can't say much for its attitude. Why does it keep calling Teyrn Loghain 'it?'"
"Possibly because that's all anyone has ever called it," Loghain said.
"Well, what else would you call it?" Hawke said.
"Hmph. Six and a half feet tall and made of solid stone? I'd call it 'Ser,'" Varric said, and chuckled. "Very obsequiously."
"By the voice, I'd guess it was a lady," Merrill said. "It's got rather ladylike hips, too."
"That godless thing is no woman," Fenris said, with a snort.
"Actually, female was my guess, too," Loghain said. "It's the voice of a woman with a heavy drinking and smoking habit, but a woman's voice all the same. To my ear, at any rate. Don't suppose it actually does have a gender per se."
The golem stomped up from the village, making the horses restive. "Talking about me behind my back?" it said. "That's all right, I'm quite accustomed to it. No one has ever truly spoken to me directly except to bark commands at me."
It dumped its armload of crystals on the ground at Loghain's feet. "If it will be so good as to help me arrange these attractively I should be most grateful to it."
"Don't you want to clean up, first?" Loghain said. "Hot water should take care of the rest of the shit on your shoulders. Hot water and a little elbow grease."
"It does show remarkable consideration. I wonder if it is buttering me up for something? No matter: butter away. I shall be quite happy to be clean."
Water was heated, and a washcloth was sacrificed for the cause. Loghain scrubbed the places the golem couldn't reach on its own. "We were just wondering, Shale," he said, "whether you consider yourself a he or a she? Or does it not make any difference to you?"
"I have no recollection of ever considering myself either one," Shale said. "Does it make a difference to it and its companions? I suppose it does. Well, I have had generally rather bad experience with squishy creatures of both genders, but I seem to have picked up the notion that the ones that call themselves 'she' are often rather more sensible. With the exception of my late, unlamented master's late, unlamented wife. If it must think of me as a he or a she, think of me as a she."
The golem picked up a bright orange crystal and swapped it out for one of the dull, broken blue ones on its chest. "I believe that while I was still frozen in place I heard it say that it formerly was the acquaintance of my late, unlamented master. Is this true?"
"Yes. We both served King Maric during the Rebellion. You were there, too - do you not remember?"
"I remember a great many people, many of whom were for squishing and many of whom were for not squishing. It must have been one of the not-squishing ones. I'm not sure I remember it personally, however. Was it the chatty one with the yellow hair that absolutely under no circumstances would ever shut up?"
Loghain's lips quirked in a lopsided grin. "No, that was Maric."
"Oh. Well, was it the dark, caustic one with the fine line in dry sarcasm?"
"That…does sound like me."
"Ah. Well, that's not so bad, then. As I remember it, it wasn't quite so squishy as the others. And it squished a lot of people in its own right."
"I do like to squish things."
"Then we have something in common. How lovely."
"You have a fine line in dry sarcasm yourself, Shale. Tell me: how is it you are so much smaller than I remember? How does one shrink a golem, if you don't mind my asking?"
Shale made a sound like unto a snort. "With a chisel. And a lot of nerve. My late, unlamented master's late, unlamented wife did not like me stomping around her house at eleven feet tall. She did not like it at six and a half feet, either. Tell me, if it doesn't mind my asking, why does it wear mirrors over its eyes? I do not recall its doing so in the past."
"I have an eye problem," Loghain said, almost mumbling the excuse.
"Well I must say I approve. It is rather better when I must look at it to be able to admire myself in reflection rather than to have to focus on the squishy bits. Will it help me with my crystals, now?"
Bethany stood. "May I?" she asked. "I think they're quite lovely, and they look very well on you. My name is Bethany; it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Shale."
She stuck out her hand. Shale regarded it with distaste. "More touching. Wonderful. And it is a mage, is it not? Better still. At least it shows some taste."