disclaimer type=standard

Anything you recognise is Bioware's. I daresay anything else belongs to them too.

/disclaimer

o_ooo000ooo_o

"That was where you met the dwarf Sigrun, yes?"

Kathryn nodded. "That's right."

Cassandra paused. "Is she as… exuberant… as reported?"

The Warden laughed, clear and loud. "Oh yes. Probably more so. She fully embraced the doctrines of the Legion of the Dead when she joined. She considers herself already dead, and has no fear of her mortality. But that doesn't stop her from enjoying every second of life, and she doesn't see any contradiction in doing so. The Wardens she trains and mentors all embrace the views of the Legion to some extent, since it's not a stretch to see the Wardens as similarly dead. It makes them better warriors, oddly. They're not afraid to take risks."

The Seeker nodded silently. The martial skills of the Ferelden Grey Wardens had become legendary in the past decade. Ever since the Order's near extinction at Ostagar, they had never lost a single major battle. Giving the mantle of leadership to Kathryn Surana had been a simple decision at the time, but she had not deferred to the First Warden's orders or views ever since. Where any other Warden-Commander in Thedas would have been removed quickly, moving against her had first been seen as ungrateful, then unwise, then unthinkable. She had taken a shattered Order and forged it into a force more powerful, man-for-man, than any other in Thedas.

The dwarves Sigrun and Oghren had passed on their own brand of fighting that considered self-preservation unimportant. When those skills were combined with the stealthy combat training given by certain Antivan Crows, the strict, formal structure of templar martial training, the overpowering techniques developed by the Qunari Beresaad and the unbelievable skills of the rediscovered Arcane Warrior art, it was no wonder that all other militaries around Thedas, including the other Grey Wardens, considered the Fereldan Wardens preeminent. Even the Qunari avoided engaging them.

"I am curious about her," Cassandra said softly. "She embodies some of the most admirable traits those of us who follow Andraste aim for."

o_ooo000ooo_o

Who'd have guessed that anyone being dragged off to become a broodmother would have such a cheery outlook?

"Well... that was... close," the bubbly dwarf said in a voice that sounded like bottled laughter. "For a moment there I thought I was really about to join the Legion of the Dead."

I helped her to her feet. "Are you all right?"

"I might have cracked a rib, but it's hard to be sure. Everything hurts." She poked at one side with her hand, wincing at the pain. Her face was covered with tattoos signifying her casteless status.

I turned to my companions. "Anders?"

"On it," he replied, his staff already in motion. With sublime skill that sent a pang of envy through my heart, he sent a wave of potent healing magic over the injured dwarf woman.

She raised a hand to object. "No, no, I'm fine. I just need to catch my bre… oh my. Oh my, that's good. Wow! That's magic is it?"

He gave her a charming smile. "Just a little bit of healing magic, that's all. How do you feel now?"

She rolled her shoulders and tilted her head from side to side. "By the stone, this is fantastic." She took a deep breath in through her nose and let it out through her mouth. "Thanks! You really saved my butt there. But I can't chat for long. I should probably go back... as foolish as that sounds... see if there's anything I can do."

"Back?" I prompted.

She pointed with a thumb over her shoulder. "The old fortress of Kal'Hirol. There's something going on there. I think the darkspawn are breeding an army. The Legion went to investigate, but Kal'Hirol proved too much for us. It was a massacre. And now I... I'm the only one left."

Ah, I knew what it was like to be the last of your order. But the idea that there was an old dwarven outpost under Amaranthine had my heart thumping with excitement. "Is this Kal'Hirol one of the lost thaigs?"

Her smile grew broader at my question. "Yes, well, not exactly. It wasn't one of the twelve great thaigs, just a fortress. But there was an established population living there, and they considered it one of the lesser thaigs, but now the darkspawn have moved in."

I scowled. "These darkspawn need to be eradicated," I said, more to my companions than our new friend.

She grinned at me and piped up with, "That's what we thought: 'Oh, we'll just run in there, eradicate the darkspawn and be back in time for supper.' Well... whoops. The darkspawn have changed; they're smart now. They destroyed the Legion. I saw them taking some of the women and I wasn't about to stick around for that."

I shuddered. "Good decision."

The thought even managed to temporarily wipe the smile from her face. "There are many things much works than death, and birthing darkspawn day and night is probably the worst. But if the darkspawn are really breeding an army... I can't stay here. I have to do something..."

I nodded at her determination. "We are Grey Wardens. We'll go to Kal'Hirol."

She blinked, looking very surprised. "Huh. That's convenient. The ancestors must have had a hand in this. I'll show you where Kal'Hirol is. Safety in numbers, yes?"

Brave, cheerful in the face of death, and apparently skilled enough to survive when an entire Legion could not. It was no great stretch to guess what I was planning. As if Oghren's leering nod of approval wasn't enough. "All right. Come with us. This is Anders, Oghren and Nathaniel. I'm Kathryn, and this big fellow is Thunder."

She waved a greeting to each of us in turn, but looked a little wary at Thunder's sharp teeth behind his doggy smile, lolling tongue and curious nose. Given my mabari's jaws were pretty much at her eye-height, I didn't begrudge her that. Still, despite her caution, she blurted, "Excellent. With your help, destroying this nest is no longer impossible, merely... improbable!"

Anders rolled his eyes. "Oh. An optimist then..."

She poked her tongue out at him and almost skipped away down the way the darkspawn were dragging her. "Let's not waste time. Kal'Hirol awaits, and darkspawn, when left to their own devices, get up to all kinds of nonsense."

"Well, we can't have that," I said, trotting along. "I don't like darkspawn nonsense."

Her name was Sigrun, and she had the sort of militant cheer that would either grate on your nerves or draw you out of the deepest depression. She didn't know much about Kal'Hirol, by her own admission. It had been a centre of learning for the smith caste. When the fortress fell, a lot of what the smiths had learned was lost with it. The dwarves had never managed to replicate the place.

As we approached the thaig, we found one of Sigrun's comrades dying in the shadow of a ruined archway. The dwarf's name was Jukka, and he refused any healing, claiming that his death would be a release. Before he passed, he charged us with destroying the broodmothers and warned us of something called the children.

Sigrun said some ritual words and rose to her feet, doubly determined to end the darkspawn threat.

We fought our way through to the entrance of the fortress, less than a fifteen-minute march from the surface. At the main entrance to Kal'Hirol, grub-like creatures spilled out from every conceivable hiding place to attack. The buggers had sharp teeth, and sometimes rose up on their rear legs to attack, leaving their undersides vulnerable. Nathaniel had to drop his bow and take up his blades, which dealt limited damage. Oghren however had significant success in fighting the creatures, swinging his axe in vast, underhand arcs, splitting the carapaces like walnut shells.

They were tainted; my growing skill in sensing darkspawn told me that. Were they a new kind of darkspawn? Ogres had only appeared since the Qunari invasion of Thedas, the spawn of captured Qunari women. What creature had spawned these things? Or were they the result of some magical experiment? I shook my head to clear it of distracting questions. They'd have to be answered another day.

Sigrun pointed at the main entrance. With a deep sigh, she said, "The Legion got this far with no trouble. We got careless, and complacent, and stormed the main entrance, up those stairs. It was a disaster. The darkspawn were waiting. They turned the thaig's old defences against us." Even through her cheerful demeanour, I could see the pain.

Oghren and I shared a glance. "Would Kal'Hirol have a hidden side entrance? Like the one we found at Bownammar?"

She looked up at me and nodded with a smile, her innate cheer shining through her gloom once more. "Most of the old dwarven fortresses had hidden side entrances. I bet this one does too. We just need to find it."

Knowing it was around was half the problem solved. Nathaniel called us over to a hidden lever, which when pulled, caused a section of wall, no different from the rest, to slide down into the earth.

Anders grinned at the sight. "I once started a rumour about hidden passages in the Tower. Had the templars pressing their noses into the walls for months. Hilarious!"

I let my mouth drop open. "That was you?"

He gave me a bow. "Indeed."

I strode over to him, grabbed his ears and planted a kiss on his lips.

"There. I promised that if I ever found out who started that rumour, I'd kiss them."

He coughed and blushed. I spun on my heel and strode over to the entrance to the thaig, leaving him wondering what had just happened. Sigrun trotted up beside me. "You didn't really promise that, did you?" she whispered.

I shook my head. "Of course not. But you've got to take your chances when you get them."

She grinned, then gave me a conspiratorial wink and a thumbs up.

The hidden passage ended in a one-sided door. Unfortunately, the darkspawn behind the door could sense me, and while they were not lined up to ambush us, they weren't exactly caught off guard either. Oghren charged through without regard for personal safety, and I threw a fireball at one large cluster, placing and timing the spell so that the berserker wasn't affected by the blast.

An incoming fireball from one of the darkspawn was unexpected. And given our position within a bottleneck, nastily effective.

My armour offered me significant protection. Poor Thunder however was seriously burned by the spell; his yelps of pain made me wince with sympathy. Anders and Nathaniel were blown off their feet by the shockwave. Sigrun managed to ride out the blast, but had to drop to the floor and roll to put out the flames licking at her leather armour.

I shook the ringing from my ears and took in the scene. Both sides were struggling to their feet, but with Oghren whirling his axe through the rising darkspawn, we were not in any real danger.

I picked out the probable spell caster, carefully judging the distance between us. I planted my feet and speared Spellweaver towards the sk-, towards the rocks overhead. The spell I loosed flooded the area around the darkspawn mage with an expanding wave of negative mana - a mage's version of a Holy Smite. Few knew the spell; finding its particulars written down was rare - I only found it in Irving's private collection when I ransacked the Tower during Uldred's rebellion. It was also difficult to cast. The effect was not in question though, the darkspawn screamed his throat bloody as his mana reserves were forcibly torn from his soul.

He collapsed, dead before he landed. It there was ever a spell that could be described as a mage-killer, this was it.

The rest of the tainted monsters did not put up much of a fight. The mage had a control rod that managed the golems arrayed around the main entrance. Unfortunately, he did something with it that caused each of the stone sentries to topple over backwards, unusable.

Sigrun and Nathaniel disarmed the pressure-plate traps all over the entrance hall. I shook my head at the thought of trying to storm in here through the front door, over traps, through a half-dozen golems and darkspawn magic. We might have accomplished it, but we had magic of our own, both a powerful healer and a death-dealer. The Legion didn't have those advantages. No wonder they was massacred.

We stomped on a few random darkspawn, and even found a golem that activated on being touched with the control rod. Unfortunately, it refused to accept any orders to follow us, remaining in the Main Hall entrance, alert for any approaching darkspawn. As useful as having a golem was, having one defending our path of retreat was a close second.

We moved further into the fortress. The first time we saw the ghostly images of dwarves and darkspawn fighting, Thunder whimpered and hid behind me. I could understand his reticence, the sight was very disturbing. Silvery, translucent blood would fly from spectral wounds and land on stone long stained by the ancient blood. It felt wrong to watch, as though it were some perverse, voyeuristic game.

A spectre in one looping scene called for other, ragged-looking ghosts to rally against the darkspawn. As uncomfortable as the images were, it gave us an incredible glimpse of the final days of Kal'Hirol.

The fortress fell even before the darkspawn arrived. Many dwarves of the noble caste simply left before the horde reached the thaig. The casteless that stayed behind helped defend the fortress, giving those who left time enough to get to safety. Sigrun was quite overcome as more and more ghostly images of dwarves with nothing to live for rose to the call and died for something meaningful.

It wasn't as though the thaig was empty though. The darkspawn had looted it quite thoroughly; one painted disciple had close to ten sovereigns in its pockets. One emissary had a staff with enchantments and power that made Anders almost weep. We found a tomb with armour pieces made for - or more probably by - the paragon Hirol. But the real wealth was the lore. We collected documents detailing lost smithing skills and rune tracings that were beyond the most powerful runes I'd ever seen. Beyond any that even the dwarves in our group had seen.

Once the Main Hall entryway was cleared of all living darkspawn, we entered the fortress proper. Sigrun pointed out carved hieroglyphs in the walls that identified it as the Trade Quarter.

Where we made a pleasant discovery. There was a civil war going on among the darkspawn. Watching your enemies rip each other to shreds was a very satisfying pastime. I even broke out some trail rations and tossed a baked doggie treat to Thunder. We leaned against the polished walls and observed darkspawn of two different groups reduce their own strength by half.

Anders pulled an apple out of a pocket and began crunching. "You know," he observed around half-chewed fruit as pointed down at the monsters below, hacking each other apart, "I honestly thought fighting darkspawn would be a bit more involved than this. "

Oghren gave a half-grunt, half-snarl. "Usually is. Come on, Kat, you're letting the sodding darkspawn have all the fun!"

"Oh come on," Anders whined. "Look at them! Red team and blue. Don't you find it funny at all?"

"Sparkle-fingers, the day I let a bunch of darkspawn take my fun is the day I let the stone take me. Now, is anyone coming, or am I going to have all the fun myself?"

We continued through the thaig, killing the remnants of the darkspawn civil war. The thaig proved to be a true monument to smithing and all its levels of art, since in one section, we discovered a still-functioning golem that seemed to be constructed to repair damaged equipment. Oghren pointed out a cart of iron ore of such high quality that Wade would start hyperventilating. But both Anders and I were drawn to something quite a bit more mundane than an automated smithy.

"Maker's breath! Would you look at that!" I breathed.

Anders sank to his knees next to a metal vessel large enough to function as a small bath. "I'm looking, I'm looking," he whispered.

Nathaniel blinked in surprise at our actions. "What is it? What's that stuff?"

"Lyrium," Oghren and Sigrun said together, before looking at each other and snorting in amusement.

"That's what mages use for their magic, isn't it?"

I shrugged. "No. But if it helps you think of it like that… then yes. Sure."

"It's a bit more than that, Nate," Anders said running his hands up the side of the container, looking for imperfections. "This is refined lyrium. To the point of being almost pure, I think."

He still sounded confused. "So?"

Sigrun looked up at the dour noble. "So that looks like quite a bit. I've never seen so much in one place before."

"Me neither," Anders said, his eyes still alight.

I turned to Oghren. "Remember the box I smuggled from Dust Town to the Circle Tower?"

"Aye."

I jerked my head towards our companions. "Tell them how big it was."

He frowned, but held his hands out a couple of hand-widths apart. "About yay big, I'd say," he said in his gravelly voice.

I nodded. "And that contained sixty sovereigns worth of raw lyrium."

Nathaniel whistled through his teeth, suddenly looking at the large vessel in a new light. Sigrun's eyes widened in astonishment. Oghren looked impressed, but Anders seemed taken aback at the revelation that I'd indulged in a little light heresy. "Huh, I've always fancied life as a lyrium smuggler. We should join forces. Maybe I'll wear a dashing chapeau!"

Sigrun frowned. "A what?"

"A kind of wimpy, Orlesian hat," Nathaniel supplied, deadpan.

Anders winked at him, trying to get a smile. It didn't work. "I used to be a good little Andrastian. I said my prayers, repented my sins-all of it."

"You? Repentant?" Nathaniel said, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"Hey!" Anders said, in lieu of an actual objection.

"You're a Grey Warden now," I interjected.

"Right! Death to the darkspawn! Rah." This was said with a notable lack of enthusiasm. It appeared that his forced conscription was hanging over him. Bloody Alistair.

I tried cheering him up, but in the midst of a darkspawn-infested fortress, it was all just words. And he knew it.

Further in, we another vessel full of refined lyrium, which almost sent Anders and I into paroxysms of delight. To balance that, we found a looter infected with the taint hiding in a cage. He begged for release, offering to exchange what treasures he had found for his freedom. Despite his desperate claim that he was free of the corruption, but I could sense the darkness in his veins. Without some archdemon blood however, I had no way of 'curing' him, even had he presented some desirable qualities.

I told him that as a Warden, I knew he was tainted, but that he had a chance to live. He fearfully accepted, and I turned around to mix up a vial of some ingredients. I passed him the resultant container of green liquid. He gulped it down, ignorant of the fact that it was one of Zevran's recipes. He died peacefully and without pain, slowly falling into a deep, endless sleep.

"That was a kind thing you did," Sigrun offered as I stripped the body of valuables and tossed his remains into the lava pit below.

I hummed a sound that sounded like agreement, even if I wasn't sure. I felt dirty having to make such decisions.

I was distracted fro my funk soon after. The disgusting little tainted grubs we'd seen outside the fortress were inside too, feasting on the darkspawn belonging to the side that had come second in their recent vigorous debate. The things sprouted spindly limbs that enabled them to move with startling speed. Oghren adjusted the timing of his swings and was soon making darkspawn paste once again.

We found more tombs, and more impressive armour and weapons. We stumbled across the treasury too, which made the eyes of all my companions' light up. Suddenly, the wagons we left outside were quite literally worth their weight in gold.

We continued killing everything with the taint, travelling deep into the fortress.

In the deepest part of the fortress, we found two darkspawn generals discussing their differences; one serving someone called an Architect, the other someone called the Mother. Since the one who followed the Mother had an enormous, fiery, lava-fuelled golem on his side, the result of their disagreement wasn't in question.

It was a right bugger to put that thing down.

Elemental cold worked very well, as did spells of paralysis. Anders and I kept the big metal killing machine busy while our companions set about killing the other darkspawn general. They finished him off just a little too late. By the time he hit the stone, I was lying on my back halfway across the room with a crushed arm, busted ribs and torn armour straps, while Anders ran from the flailing fists.

Thunder was of no real use against the golem, his claws and teeth did nothing to even scratch the surface metal. Nathaniel distracted it with his arrows, keeping it from catching Anders, but did little damage. Sigrun was a delight, intelligently striking out at the golem's knees and ankles to restrict its movements. The enchanted mace she'd picked up in the fortress worked wonderfully.

Oghren barreled in, heedless of danger as usual. His enchanted axe was easily the most effective weapon we had, and the relatively tiny warrior even managed to knock the hulking thing down a time or two.

Through my streaming eyes and clenched teeth, I suddenly felt a bony grinding. Azure power seeped into my arm, straightening and then fusing the broken bones back into place. "Are you all right?" Anders said hurriedly, still examining my wounds.

I coughed, covering his face with bloody spray. "Ow," I said as clearly as I could manage.

"Yeah, I figured that hurt," he said with a smile as more healing power flowed from his hands into me. "The way you sailed across the room in a great big arc was really quite graceful. The sudden stop at the end, not so much."

"Oghren was right," I wheezed out, still fighting back the pain. "Mage comedians suck."

He glanced up at the continuing battle. Sigrun was knocked flat by one swinging fist, but Thunder leapt into the fray and attracted the golem's attention. At least my dog could outrun the lumbering thing.

"See to Sigrun," I hissed, sitting up. His work had been exemplary, if not complete.

"I'm not done here," he objected.

"Go!" I spat, summoning some power from the fade and partially freezing the golem. At least I could slow the bastard down while sitting on my arse.

The golem took a slow step towards Thunder, but the damage Sigrun had done to its legs caused it to fall forward. Its knees splintered the ancient stone beneath as they hit the floor. With it hunched over, Oghren leapt up on its back from directly behind and, with a mighty overhead smash, buried his axe deep into the golem's head. The blow almost split the metal head in two. It tottered briefly, before crashing to the floor.

Unfortunately, Oghren's axe was stuck hard in the metal, and as a matter of pride, Oghren refused to let the handle of any weapon go. As the metal behemoth fell forward Oghren's principles clashed with the principles of leverage. He was launched like a stone from a catapult. His scream of surprise echoed loudly in the enclosed room, but the sound of his landing trumped even that.

Oghren was significantly tougher than me though. He rose unsteadily to his feet, looking for all the world like he'd simply been sampling heavily from his clandestine still. "By the s-s-stone. Why's the f-floor m-moving?"

"It's not," Nathaniel supplied, casually unstringing his bow to check for signs of damage. Even after such a battle, he was calm and collected, performing all the little tasks that would ensure his equipment functioned at peak efficiency.

"S-sure it is," Oghren said, falling to one side with a series of metallic clangs.

"Nope," the noble replied, moving over to the dwarf. "Here, take my hand."

Oghren glared at the offered hand, his green eyes even more unfocused than usual. "Why you got th-three o' 'em?" he slurred.

From across the room, Anders called out, "Sounds like a concussion. Let him sit there, I'll fix him up in a moment."

I rose to my feet, sucking in air through my teeth at the sharp, jagged pains that shot through my side. "Well done, Wardens. Very well done indeed."

We rested there for a couple of hours, letting Anders do his work and to have something to eat. The man was a genius at healing.

Unfortunately, my armour was a mess. Not the scale itself - archdemon scales being one of the more durable substances known - but the straps. One swipe of those enormous fists had ruined them. Wade would need to re-strap the scale before I could use it again. I had a spare travelling robe back in the wagons, but until we got back topside, my modesty was dependent upon my stained and torn undershirt. It was hardly surprising that we'd found no elf-sized armour in Kal'Hirol.

Sigrun's armour was ruined completely. Her leather helmet, gauntlets and boots were barely serviceable between the fireball and constant darkspawn strikes, but the blow from the golem had split the chest piece in several places. Without Anders' skill, she likely would not have survived. There was however, plenty of high quality, if mismatched armour pieces around that fit her frame.

Once we were rested, we moved on, deeper into the fortress. The smell was our first warning of what was up ahead. Oghren, Sigrun, Thunder and I all recognised it.

Broodmother.

The tentacles were irritating, but knowing they were there was half the battle won. Oghren's enchanted axe could sever one at its base with one swing, and both mages of the party had the skill to freeze one solid. The slimy things didn't delay us long.

We found three broodmothers in a deep stone pit. Anders and Nathaniel both shivered in fear and disgust at the sight.

It was a most conveniently placed lyrium bomb that cleared out the broodmother threat. The explosion left afterimages on our eyelids and a high ringing in my ears that took Anders a couple of minutes to right.

Sigrun placed on foot on the crumbling ledge and carefully leaned out over the devastated hole in the stonework. "Well, it looks like you Wardens do deliver."

"You're welcome," I said lightly.

She returned my smile, but frowned and put forth some theories about the two factions of darkspawn. She seemed keen now that Kal'Hirol was secure to disappear back into the Deep Roads, but I wasn't about to lose such skilled help. I offered her a place in the Grey Wardens, which she accepted after only light encouragement.

"Oghren, Sigrun, could you identify all the removable objects that we can take?"

Sigrun spun to face me, her expressive face suddenly dark. "What?"

I smiled at her innocently. "We have some dwarves working at Vigil's Keep. I want them to examine what we can carry for authenticity before we send them to Orzammar."

Sigrun looked mollified that I was not intending to loot the artifacts from the thaig, and Oghren scoffed. "There ain't a scrap of stone here that hasn't been shaped by a dwarf. What do you need authenticity for?"

I grinned and rubbed my hands together. "Because I want Bhelen to drool over the historical treasures we send him. This arling is on the brink of ruin, and having hundreds of dwarves flooding into the arling to occupy and fortify this place will give every merchant and trader east of Redcliffe plenty of reason to send some goods for sale."

Nathaniel looked horrified. "You're just going to hand this place over to the dwarves? A fully defendable fortress in the middle of the arling?"

Sigrun frowned, her pretty face confused. "What are you talking about? There's no way King Bhelen could hold this place. There's too many darkspawn in the Deep Roads between here and Orzammar."

I gave them a wink. "Nathaniel, I do intend to hand this fortress over to Bhelen. Especially since in order to populate the thing he'll need our help. Once the Grey Wardens have built up their numbers a bit, I'll have some stationed here permanently to help fight the darkspawn. And Sigrun, providing a safe passage for his troops across the surface will be the best gift I could give Bhelen, and a maintaining a stable trading post to help supply the fortress."

Sigrun blinked at me. "You- you'd do that? You'd seriously do all that just to help the dwarves reclaim an old fortress?"

I nodded. "Yes. Without question."

"Why?" Nathaniel and Sigrun asked together. They looked at each other and then glanced away, both blushing slightly.

"A few reasons," I said as we made our way back up into the thaig. "But we can discuss them later. Let's take what we can and get out into the sun. I need to dress."

I donned my spare robes the moment we were on the surface. I looked ludicrous, combining archdemon-scale gauntlets, boots and helmet with a flimsy mage robe. But at least my tits weren't poking out at inconvenient intervals. Nathaniel could stop turning his back every other step, but Anders gave a small sigh of disappointment. Oghren had seen it all before, for a couple of days even. He'd been with me after Flemeth had burned my robes off. After two days of semi-nakedness around him, I'd quickly developed a habit of carrying a spare robe.

It took us nearly a full day to lug up everything we wanted to take. The prize, from my point of view, were the two vessels of pure lyrium. The Ferelden Grey Wardens were well stocked for lyrium for the next several centuries. The cart of iron ore was also carried out and loaded.

We happily looted the treasury of every coin, down to the last copper. We collected the best specimens of armour and weapons, and every book, scroll, note and scrap of parchment we could. Wagons loaded, we set off for Vigil's Keep.

The first night out from Kal'Hirol, I half-lay curled up against Thunder's enormous body. Lying down made it... itchy... for me to breath easily with my recently healed ribs, and I couldn't sleep sitting up straight. Thunder didn't seem to mind me using him as an ambulatory pillow.

Nathaniel strode over to me, carrying a bowl of steaming stew. "Here, Commander. Anders said to eat this. He put something in it."

"Thank you, Nathaniel. And again, please, it's Kathryn."

He gave me a rueful grin. "As you wish, Kathryn." He sat down next to me and pulled out a strip of jerky. He tore it in half and tossed one piece to Thunder, who accepted with a grateful bark and a wag of his stumpy tail.

"Do you have any idea what you've done to Amaranthine in the week you've been here?" he asked in an amused tone.

I shook my head as I spooned the thick stew into my mouth. Hmm, Anders had added elfroot and… something else. "Not really. What do you mean?"

He bit off a bit of jerky and chewed as he considered how to answer. "Morag, the Revered Mother of the Amaranthine Chantry… she has been a thorn in," he paused and corrected himself, "was a thorn in my father's side for decades. The old harridan would interfere in running the arling in all sorts of ways, and because she was a personal friend of my grandmother, my father had little option but to permit her liberties beyond her station."

"I can sympathise."

He gave a sort of grunting chuckle. "Not for long, you didn't. Maker's breath, you were in Amaranthine for less than a day! You turned an ambush for you into a trap for the curmudgeonliest woman imaginable, and it succeeded. My father tried to get her out of the Chantry for years - you did it in a couple of hours!"

I shook my head. "What she did with your father, the crap she pulled; was any of it illegal?"

"Not as such," he granted.

"Then you shouldn't compare the two. I set her up, yes. But she had the opportunity to side with me, to stay on the side of legality. But she decided to act against both the law and a Chantry-sanctioned treaty. She bet on her power over the law, and lost because the Wardens are not the doormats she's used to dealing with."

He nodded slowly, but there was a deep frown on his face. "I can see that, it's just that you seem to be so... unpredictable. You stood up to the Chantry, who are technically your allies, but who have the ability to make your life very difficult. And then you are willing to hand over a fortress under the arling to an armed force who are not sworn vassals. I can't begin to tell you the mistake you're making there."

I took a deep breath. "First, can I thank you?"

That stumped him. "For what?"

"For having the balls to tell me when you think I'm being stupid."

He looked down and cleared his throat. "I don't think you're being stupid per se, just... naive."

"Well, this is Fereldan we're speaking, if a word doesn't have half a dozen different meanings, it's just not trying hard enough."

"True enough," he chuckled.

I placed the half-eaten bowl down and stretched, wincing at the dull, persistent ache. "Okay, we have an underground fortress a couple of days march west-south-west of Amaranthine. What do you think I should do with it?"

"Do you mean I, the Grey Warden Commander or I, the Arlessa? Because there's a big difference."

I shrugged. "Give me your thoughts on both."

He rubbed his chin. "As Grey Wardens, we could use it as a base of operations. I know we have Vigil's Keep, but it would be tactically sound to have a second fortified base."

"A third."

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

I gestured off into the night, roughly to the northwest. "We already have a second fortified base. I cleared out Soldier's Peak during the Blight. A Grey Warden mage and a recruit inhabit the main tower there, and a merchant family use the location to store their inventory."

Nathaniel looked worried. "Soldier's Peak is a myth, Kathryn."

I shook my head. "I'll take you there one day. But go on, what should I do with Kal'Hirol as Arlessa?"

He didn't seem convinced, but accepted that I didn't tend to exaggerate my claims. "Fortify it. Clear it out and use it as a stronghold against bandits, darkspawn and uprisings. You could assign one of your vassals to it, give them the income from the surrounding lands, and let them assume the responsibilities to get it habitable."

I nodded. "All right. I can see your point of view. But tell me this. Do we have the manpower to take control? Do we have the resources to refit it? Given that it's underground, would we have volunteers to man the fortress? If not, would we need to forcibly conscript people?"

Nathaniel sighed. "No, I suppose not. And leaving it sit idle isn't really a good idea either, is it?"

I shook my head with a smile. "Not unless you want to clear darkspawn out of it every month or so. If we don't let the dwarves take it, it will drain our limited resources for a long time. It may never be productive in its own right. Plus, the dwarves would be bitchy, and Alistair wants to keep on good terms with them."

He sighed again, deeply this time. "I can see your point too. It's just that, from a military perspective, having a potentially hostile force two days from a major city is a recipe for disaster."

"Very true," I agreed. "But having a fortress full of dwarves between the arling and the darkspawn would be beneficial. And you have to understand that most dwarves won't even consider sticking their heads above ground, for whatever reason. Orzammar has sat inside the borders of Ferelden for centuries and we've never had a single instance of an invasion. Exiled dwarves tend to slip into surface life quite easily, and those born on the surface are quite happy to stay topside. But if you give them a choice, most dwarves would happily never even consider stepping into the sun."

"I need to learn more about them, it seems," he mused. "What did you mean about a supply post?"

"This is something we should talk about with all of us," I said. I figured that Alistair wouldn't mind if I told my Wardens what was going on. I raised a hand and called the others to come over.

Sigrun was the last; she was staring fixedly at the sky, her mouth open in wonder. "By my ancestors, your stars are amazing!"

Once everyone was seated, I gave a brief recap of my last trip to Orzammar. I left off Aedan's negotiations, focusing more on Alistair's offer to Bhelen. Oghren was impassive; he'd left Orzammar and was now considered outside the castes, but Sigrun was quite intrigued. Nathaniel understood the economic benefits of having a thousand dwarves nearby, all needing to be fed and supplied.

"But would King Bhelen send dwarves to Kal'Hirol when he's trying to reclaim Aeducan Thaig?" Anders asked.

Oghren grunted. "Aeducan Thaig is a wasteland. Everything of worth has been picked over by patrols and expeditions. It's mostly rubble now. Sure there's some old mineral veins, but it'll take a lot of work to get them running again. Kal'Hirol is a fortress, ready for someone with the balls to step in and claim it. There's working golems and equipment. The smith caste would all take up public nug-humping rather than leave it empty."

"Ew!" Sigrun cringed.

He barked a laugh at her. "We send some of the stuff we pulled out of Kal'Hirol back to Orzammar, Bhelen would beat off his own family for first grab. My guess is we'll see dwarves marching overland in a month."

Sigrun raised her hand. "Um, are you going to give all the things we took from Kal'Hirol to the dwarves?"

"Why?"

She looked a bit uncomfortable. "Well, it's just that, well," her voice dropped to a whisper, "we did do all the work..."

Oghren and I shared a glance, and a grin. "Well, I was thinking of making a copy of all the rune tracings and so forth before sending them on."

Oghren grumbled an agreement. "Aye, and that anvil we lugged out ought to go back too. Wade wouldn't have a clue what to do with it."

Anders got into the spirit. "Some of those ancient weapons should be returned, they might be family heirlooms."

I chuckled. "But that armour that belonged to Hirol would look good on you, Sigrun. Once we had it fitted properly."

She looked at me aghast. "Me? Wear a paragon's armour? Are you stone-kissed?"

I glanced at Oghren. "Stone-kissed?"

"She wants to know if you've been hit on the head with a rock."

"Ah. No, as a matter of fact, I have not. Why?"

She pointed at her facial markings. "I'm casteless! A paragon is the epitome of what it means to be a dwarf! I can't wear his armour!" She glanced around the fire at four amused faces. After a few seconds of silence, she added, "Can I?"

I turned to Oghren. "Think it'll fit?"

"Aye. With a bit of work around the... heh... the breastplate."

I grinned at Sigrun. "Well, there you go. Once we're back at the Vigil and you've done your Joining, we'll get Wade to measure you up and sort you out with a proper set of armour."

She slumped back, suddenly thoughtful. "Huh. I was just going to ask about all the gold we took out of the treasury."

I shrugged. "Well, some of it should go to the Wardens. Say, half. We need to be able to outfit our new recruits with the best equipment available when they come on board. But I reckon the rest should be split evenly amongst us. Thoughts?"

Oddly, there wasn't a single dissenting vote.

The next day we trundled along, beating off bandit attacks every couple of hours. As we passed one farmstead, we interrupted an ambush on someone else for a change. Once the encounter had ended in a predictable fashion, the original target gratefully donated a purse of gold and promised to meet with us at Vigil's Keep.

We arrived back at the Keep a day later, despite all the little delays caused by Sigrun's insatiable desire to turn over logs, pick grass and chase birds. I couldn't in good conscience tell her to stop; she reminded me of me, just after I'd left the tower. The sensation of grass between your bare toes was incredible when all you could remember was stone underfoot.

Herron and Wade were initially stunned into a delighted silence at the sight of our cargo, for very different reasons. The lava-fuelled golem's carapace had the smith all but dancing a jig in delight, while Herron whooped as we unloaded ore and weapons.

The dwarf brothers examined our finds with awe, pointing out characteristics in the weapons we'd missed. They were most impressed with the tablets and lore we retrieved, begging that they be sent to the Shaperate in Orzammar for cataloging. I suggested that they start putting together a sample collection of artifacts while I wrote a letter to Bhelen explaining their origin. The rest could be stored here safely until the Shaperate sent someone to pick it up. Both jumped to the task with glee.

One of the sergeants reported that the cellars had been excavated. It revealed an entrance to the Deep Roads that even Nathaniel had been unaware of.

Rather than see to the entrance myself, I delegated the task to Oghren, Nathaniel and Anders. They took Thunder and followed the sergeant while I took Sigrun into the Keep to meet with Varel.

My seneschal seemed quite pleased at having another potential Warden, and assisted Sigrun as I prepared the Joining potion and herbal tea. Less than an hour later, we stood in the hall. We shared the tea and I recited the welcoming words.

Varel stepped forward, holding the golden goblet. "From this moment forth, Sigrun, you are a Grey Warden."

She could hardly keep herself from smiling. "So let it be."

The tough little dwarf teetered for a moment, but fell over backwards, here eyes as white as milk. Varel hovered over her momentarily before pronouncing, "You chose her well, Commander. She will awaken shortly."

I smiled inwardly. Sigrun would be a most welcome addition to the Grey Wardens. "Yes. Thank you Varel, I'll stay with her. Could you please get me some parchment, quill and ink?"

"As you wish, Commander."

I covered her with a blanket and sat next to her. A servant provided me with the requested materials, and I drafted a letter to the king of the dwarves that was hopefully both an invitation and a lure.

Sigrun began to stir, her pretty face screwed up in fear. Soon, she burst awake, perspiration beading on her forehead. I calmed her quickly, and explained what a dream was. We covered the usual unpleasant topics, none of which bothered her in the slightest. Indeed, the idea that she would be even more energetic appeared most satisfactory.

Our companions entered the hall with expressions an odd mixture of delight that Sigrun survived, and seriousness that an ancient wraith had been imprisoned beneath the Keep. Fortunately, they had proven themselves fully capable of dealing with the foul apparition, and had ended its existence in the family crypt.

Nathaniel proudly showed off a bow with the Howe family crest burned into the wood. The weapon had apparently been in his family for generations, and he was keen to reclaim it. I nodded along and agreed that the bow was a magnificent specimen.

The conversation grew quite stilted and uncomfortable, I seemed to have missed something; something obvious. Grinning wildly, Anders poked Nathaniel in the side and pointed out that the reason I wasn't giving him explicit permission to keep the bow was that I didn't think that it was needed. Nathaniel blushed slightly, but gave me his heartfelt thanks and a huge smile - well, huge for a Howe. Anders excitedly showed me his grand find, a new method for brewing a lyrium potion. To my expert eye, it looked as though the results would be even more potent than my best efforts. An incredible find.

Varel interrupted our gathering to request my presence at court. Several claimants had arrived after I'd left for Amaranthine to petition me on some issue or another.

I stuffed Sigrun full of hot food and sent her to bed to rest. I then gave each of my other Wardens some tasks. Oghren went to assist the Glavonak brothers, Anders to electrify some more alchemical potions, and Nathaniel to assist me.

I had to use all my willpower to remain outwardly calm as I was called to rule on crimes and disputes. I hadn't been given anything in the way of instruction, let alone warning. Suddenly, my decision to recruit Nathaniel turned out to be an act of unadulterated genius.

One poor sod had stolen some grain to feed his family. He was looking at the noose simply because he'd nicked the stuff from me. Rather than have his family starve for want of a provider, I ordered him to join my army, where he'd be paid and his family fed. A pair of nobles disputing the income from a toll bridge in the south of the arling were next. Nathaniel's father had formally removed the asset from one noble and given it to another based solely on the support of that noble. There was even documentation to support the claim.

"So, if your father could just take it from one of his vassals and hand it to another, why would it not be legal for me to do the same?" I asked Nathaniel in a hushed whisper.

"It would be legal," he shrugged. "That's why they're petitioning you. They both know that you need to build support. In this case, you will lose the support from one of them. In my opinion, the potential gains would not support one over the other. Ser Derren is a capable sort, and his family did build the bridge in question. But as she's more wealthy, Lady Liza has more influence among the nobles."

I rubbed my chin. "Which of them is more capable?"

He did not hesitate. "Lady Liza is renowned for being useless at anything except shopping. Ser Derren, unquestioningly. As an administrator, that is. He's not a warrior if that's what you're asking."

"It's not. Thank you." I turned back to the two nobles. "I shall let the matter stand as it is. Lady Liza shall retain the income from the bridge. Ser Derren, would you please remain after this court rests. I have an opportunity for you."

Liza seemed pleased with the result, giving Derren a superior smirk. Derren frowned at the decision, but agreed to meet later.

Varel growled as the next case was brought forward. The knight who'd warned me of a conspiracy had been found slain, and the noble before me discovered covered in blood fleeing the scene. He made no plea for mercy, no denial of the crime; he simply stated as fact that he was noble born, and thus not answerable to the common folk who had arrested him.

Varel and Garavel both looked frustrated at the situation. Both were certain that the noble Timmerly was responsible for the poor knight's death, but had no real proof besides his proximity to the scene.

As the questioning continued in the same vein, Nathaniel shook his head. "He's guilty. I'm sure of it," he whispered.

"Me too," I agreed. "Your reasoning?"

"His fleeing the scene while covered in blood would normally be enough to convict him. But the murder of a knight should scare a lot of people. Nobles especially. That no one has come forward demanding justice indicates that they know who committed the deed, and that they are complicit." He looked at me soberly. "A warning. Don't judge him based on his entitled attitude, Kathryn. If you do, it will turn all the other nobles against you, even those not involved in the conspiracy. He's counting on that. You need evidence."

I nodded. "I'll have it in a moment."

That confused him. I turned back to face Timmerly and said, "Hang him."

The colour could not have drained from his face faster than if I'd stabbed him in the heart. "Y-you cant!" he blurted.

There it was. Varel grunted in approval. "Oh, but she very much can!"

I held up a hand, raising my voice to be heard throughout the hall. "Timmerly, the first words out of your mouth when I pronounced your death were, 'you can't'. An innocent man would have said, 'but I didn't do it'. Noble blood does not, and never will, excuse murder in my arling."

Holding court was not the biggest headache of the day, however. Woolsey was less than impressed with my decision to disburse the loot from Kal'Hirol without speaking to her first. Apparently there was a procedure or a policy or something. Grey Wardens were supported by tithes, and were not supposed to loot every body and chest they happened across.

She became quite huffy when I pointed out that, had I followed that particular brand of idiocy, Alistair would have died for lack of healing salves before we'd even reached the top of the tower at Ostagar, I'd not have survived the mess at the Circle, Ferelden would be a blackened wasteland and the archdemon would now be ravaging Orlais.

She point blank demanded that the entire take from Kal'Hirol be converted to the arling's treasury. I didn't even let my Wardens react to that before I told her to sod off.

Yes, that's me. Diplomat extraordinaire. Of the Wardens, only Nathaniel covered his eyes.

Our argument grew even more heated. It was only after I suggested she deliver her report on my unbecoming conduct to the First Warden in person that Varel interceded and suggested making use of the funds was a greater priority than bickering over who controlled them. Garavel immediately placed his order for the full amount to go to recruitment for the army.

Woolsey dismissed the idea, though she did explain her reasoning. From what I could gather, dumping a large amount of money into a depressed economy simply drove prices for goods and services up and out of the reach of the majority. Having lots of gold meant little when it cost lots of gold for anything. But it did mean a great deal to others.

The woman was a pain, but she knew her business.

She was adamant that the most effective way to get the arling operational again was to encourage trade. Amaranthine was a port city after all, and if the bandits could be neutralized, our much-healthier treasury could be used to tempt traders here.

I mentioned the fact that the population of the arling would probably soon include upwards of five hundred dwarves. Both Woolsey and Garavel were shocked at the news, but expressed support for the idea. Garavel because any bandits who tried robbing an army of dwarves would not be his problem (or even a problem) any more, and Woolsey because such a population would create a demand that would act as a lure to many merchants around the country.

I set out my plans for Kal'Hirol in front of them. Of the three, only Woolsey saw the benefit. Garavel expressed the same sort of concerns as Nathaniel, while Varel pondered aloud on the political ramifications.

Once the idea had their full attention, I asked a servant to summon Derren to the meeting. He arrived quickly, but he had spent the time since court seething at my decision.

"Derren, please be seated."

The young noble sat in the indicated chair stiffly, his expression neutral but his demeanour unfriendly. "Thank you, Arlessa Kathryn."

I pulled a map of the arling across the table and pointed to the rift. "What do you know of the lands around this point?"

He glanced at the map. "Very little, I'm afraid. I know that you have personal holdings in the area."

"Well, that spot is going to become an important commercial hub in the coming months. Initially the needed goods will be mostly food and other supplies suitable for an army and to establish a mine, but in the coming months I expect that there will be ore and worked metal goods being shipped out."

He looked from me to Nathaniel to Varel and back again. "I don't understand."

I tapped the map again, drawing his attention back down. "Beneath this point there is an old dwarven fortress, one of their smaller thaigs. I intend for the dwarves to reclaim it, but they'll need our support to do so. I need an administrator to oversee the establishment of a trading post, or even a small settlement on the surface."

He blinked, glancing from one face to another. He focused on Oghren, presumably as he was recognisable as a dwarf. "A fortress? Really?"

Oghren barked a laugh. "Aye, bigger than the Vigil, it is. There's more ore and quality stone down there than all the mines along the coast."

"And the dwarves are going to reclaim it? Now?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"How many dwarves will be needed?"

I looked at Oghren. "Few hundred," he allowed. "More'll come later, once the mines are functioning again."

He glanced down at the map again, but shook his head. "Not possible. The roads quality isn't enough to support that level of traffic."

"What do you mean?" Woolsey asked. "Certainly they will require upgrading in the future, but they are quite suitable for the required mercantile traffic."

Derren shook his head. "It's not the merchant traffic that you need to accommodate, Madam. Establishing a population centre there will initially require large amounts of lumber, stone and other materials. The roads are not capable of handling such volume in the timeframe you need."

"Good," I said with a smile.

That surprised a lot of people. "Good, Commander?" Woolsey asked archly.

"Yes, good," I replied firmly. "Derren here sounds like he knows what's needed to make this a success. I need it to succeed, Derren. I need to be able to supply several hundred dwarves, and I need to set up the facilities to extract and export vast amounts of stone, ore, metal and weapons. I allowed your family's bridge to be taken from you. Would you accept governance of the trading centre in its place?"

Woolsey and her new best friend (and my newest, most-devoted vassal) Derren seconded themselves away in a room to discuss the requirements of the undertaking. If Derren could keep the woman away from me, I'd consider his appointment well and truly earned.

To keep the relative peace, I allowed the gold we'd taken from Kal'Hirol to be placed in the treasury on the proviso that it not be spent until the rest of the argument about its disbursement was completed. I was not going to let my Wardens be cheated out of a life-changing windfall.

The changes we'd made were having an impact. The kitchens were relatively well stocked, if our meals were anything to go by. The woman we'd rescued from the bandits on our way home turned out to be from a wealthy merchant family, and agreed to stock the Keep's merchants with new inventory. An elf woman in a robe stopped me in the hall to personally thank me for that. I'd noticed her on occasion waft around the Keep looking a bit lost, but we'd never exchanged words. I had assumed that she was one of Alistair's army mages - an apostate who enlisted to avoid the templars. Apparently she was something of an ambassador from the Circle, skilled in rune crafting and enchanting.

Nice of her to finally introduce herself.

I gave instructions to all the traders in the Keep to sell anything to my Wardens and bill Woolsey directly. With any luck, buy the time she got the invoices they'd have spent their share of the take and it would make her argument redundant. My Wardens and I spent a few days upgrading our equipment - Sigrun looked fabulous in her new armour, despite her almost constant blush. I noticed that the Keep itself was noticeably more energetic than the day I arrived. The population had grown, and there were several new people bustling about.

The Orlesian Warden Kristoff had still not returned from his scouting mission. Darkspawn sightings were still arriving daily, though at a much-reduced rate. Bandits were still a problem, but more to the south, along the Pilgrim's Path. Literally nothing was getting through down there.

On that front, I sent a messenger to the chap from the Merchant's Guild, suggesting that the Wardens would escort any trader south to the edge of the arling. The response was positive.

So, it was off to Amaranthine once more.

o_ooo000ooo_o

AN: Thanks again to my reviewers - MB18932, Nightbrainzz, Isabeau of Greenlea, Pintsizedpsycho, Arsinoe de Blassenville, Hydroplatypus and sizuka2 - thank you all for your kind words.

Unfortunately, work is still hectic, so it will be another couple of weeks before this fic is updated.