disclaimer type=standard

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

/disclaimer

o_ooo000ooo_o

"Why did you not take the Spirit of Justice back to Vigil's Keep with you immediately?" Cassandra asked.

Kathryn raised an eyebrow. "Because Kristoff's wife was due to arrive. I hoped to get back to the Vigil before Justice. I figured it would be better to give her fair warning."

The Seeker blinked at the unexpected answer. "How in the Maker's name did you explain that her husband was dead and that his body was inhabited by a Fade Spirit?"

The Warden winced. "With great difficulty, since his group caught us up a day out of the Vigil."

o_ooo000ooo_o

The trip back from Blackmarsh was so uneventful it was almost tedious. We stopped at the silverite mines to review and examine the changes.

Glavonak's masons were hard at work, excavating stones from the granite face. They worked with intriguing precision and incomprehensible techniques, managing to chip into the rock face with thick metal levers and break off slabs of hard stone with amazingly consistent thickness.

We entered the mines and took some time going through what remained of the Architect's effects. Seranni helpfully showed us some hidden rooms and passages. She explained how some of the Architect's experiments were conducted, but was embarrassed at the fact that she had no idea why, or for what purpose. As far as I could determine, the experiments were either useless or so advanced as to be beyond me. And I'd researched magical effects a time or two in the past.

We dismantled everything, ready for transport. If Jowan or Avernus decided the variouse pieces of equipment were without value, I'd dispose of them, but not before.

Some more dragon rearing equipment was uncovered and packed with the stones bound for Vigil's Keep. The bodies of the drakes and dragonlings we'd killed were stripped and cleaned for whatever was valuable. The small bodies left bones too brittle to smith, but the wing membranes and belly scales were remarkably soft and supple. Perhaps they could be made into work gloves that would protect as well as thick leather during the manufacturing of poisons and bombs. It was a thought. I'd prefer to wear thinner gloves while working, but only if they were just as protective when handling poisons.

The soldiers on duty guarding the masons were bored with the easy duty, which meant that the older, more experienced guards viewed it as welcome, while the younger ones were itching for a more exciting time. It was something of a shock to discover that many of the bored, younger guards were years older than me.

We joined a delivery of granite on its way to the Vigil. I was getting quite good at driving a pair of oxen. With a book of lore on my lap, a mild cold salve on my fingers and a folded cloak under my bum, I found it a pleasant way to spend a productive afternoon.

Seranni thought it boring however. And unfortunately, she had her sister's predilection for offering her opinion to the world. She and Sigrun ranged out far and wide, the pair making a surprisingly good scouting team. At camp, the dwarf proudly showed me the rudimentary woodcraft skills she'd learned, collecting wood, setting the campfire and preparing the brace of hares the pair had snared.

Seranni, just as proudly, demonstrated her own newly learned skills by deftly extracting my purse from my pocket, much to Sigrun's embarrassment. I dismissed the duster-dwarf's stammered excuses with a wave, pointing out that I expected my Wardens to share their skills, even those that had a less than stellar social standing. If any Warden under my command ever found themselves in a situation with no resources, I wanted them to have the ability to fend for themselves.

Hunting and woodcraft were all well and good, but pickpocketing and theft were just different names for hunting in an urban environment.

The next day, while we were still a day out from the citadel at ox-speed, the rest of the Wardens caught us up.

"Maker's breath!" I shouted as I caught sight of them. "What happened?"

Oghren, with barely two and a half beard-plaits remaining, grumbled, "Sodding dragon is what happened." He dropped a roped bundle of several bones I expertly spotted as coming from the legs of a High Dragon. The slight shimmering they made threw me a bit though.

Anders, his robes shredded and then inelegantly mended again, clarified. "There was a dragon made of stars. Damned thing could split itself into separate glowing globs and then reform. It was bloody nightmare to put down."

Justice, his exquisite armour dented and creased by what would have been a mortal blow (to a mortal, that is) said, "The beast once ravaged the landscape, before it was trapped in a pocket of the Fade by the baroness. It could no longer assume its original true form; instead, it created a spectral version of itself. We inadvertently released it, and were attacked."

Velanna, was wearing an ill-fitting leather jerkin over the tattered and burned remains of her robes, looked at Oghren with far less hostility than she had in the past. "I thought us doomed. The beast created a barrier preventing us from escaping its rampage." She paused, swallowed, and continued, "O-Oghren saved me from its claws more than once."

The berserker shrugged, looking quite uneasy. "She was in my way a couple of times," he responded gruffly.

"Not so," Justice interjected. "The elven mage was in mortal danger several times, and the dwarf warrior intervened each time to prevent her death."

I sighed as both Oghren and Velanna blushed mightily. "Justice? You're not supposed to expose a mutually agreed lie if it prevents someone from being embarrassed."

He regarded me curiously. "Truly? How odd. Falsehoods are an anathema to me. How is it that such an abhorrence can ever be justified?"

Dwarf and elf shuffled uncomfortably under the grins from the rest of my Wardens. I sighed and patted Justice's hand. "Justice, everyone could figure out what happened, but by knowing yet not admitting that you know, it spared them any humiliation."

He looked downcast. "Then I have wronged them. I must apologise. I must make this situation right."

Oghren coughed and waved his hand. "Don't fass yoursel'," he muttered, slipping deep into his old accent.

Velanna, still bright red, agreed. "Apology accepted," she said with such a lack of expertise that apparently it was the very first time those words had ever passed her lips.

Anders grinned at the pair, and resumed the tale. "We found a couple more darkspawn, but they weren't a problem. But the, er, spectral dragon really did a number on us. I had a needle and some thread in my boot, but it was barely enough to get my robes modestly useful. We had to scavenge a small leather tunic for Velanna; her robes were a little less," he cleared his throat, pausing to fight back the smile that threatened to appear before finishing with, "functional than usual."

Velanna unconsciously crossed her arms over her chest, her face scarlet.

I nodded, careful to prevent any hint of amusement in my expression or voice. "I see. Well, we can wait until we're back at the Vigil for a full debriefing. I'm proud of the fact that you can handle a full grown dragon, especially one that's not all there."

The rest of the trip back was made in a sea of companionable chatter; so long as the subject matter did not touch upon recent events involving dwarfs and elves and who saved who. Justice and Anders seemed quite content to talk with each other, both having a burning desire to right the injustices done to mages. Velanna quietly expressed her reservations to me about letting a Fade Spirit roam free in the mortal world, many of which I agreed with.

I pointed out that we had the required lyrium back at home to send Justice back if need be. It mollified her somewhat, but for all her fears, she was pleased that I shared her caution.

Our arrival back at Vigil's Keep was public knowledge long before we made it to the gates. Dozens of people mobbed us at the main portcullis, all shouting out tales of woe that merged into an incomprehensible aural mess. I held up my hands and called for calm.

Eventually, the mob ran out of urgency, but there didn't seem to be much in the way of clarity. Pleas for aid with the darkspawn had me wondering what was going on. We were Grey Wardens, for pity's sake; that was what we did.

I pushed past the gathered crowd and into the courtyard. I barked a few orders and sent my Wardens off. One of my sergeants managed to get a handful of guards into a rough circle around me, allowing an easier time to enter the Keep.

Where the scene was pretty damned similar. Only inside, the individual mob members were wearing nicer clothes.

"Kathryn!" Nathaniel's voice cried out over the panicking nobles. "Thank the Maker!"

"Nate," I greeted him informally as I pushed forward to the high table. "Please tell me what's going on before I lose it completely."

He winced. "About six hours ago we got word that a darkspawn army is marching on Amaranthine. They're heading straight for the city, about a day out. We've been receiving a steady stream of refugees all day, and more are coming."

I slammed my hands down on the table in frustration. Just as I was getting a hold on the arling, this had to happen. "Sodding wonderful. Have you heard word from your sister?"

He blinked at me, a small worried smile on his face. "Yes, thank you. She's up in my room with her husband. They got here an hour ago."

I nodded. "Good. That's one worry sorted. Right, how big is the army?"

He looked down and shuffled some papers. "Estimates range from fifteen hundred to a hundred thousand."

I coughed. "That's a pretty sizable margin of error."

He almost cracked a smile. "You noticed. The more reliable sightings are in the range of a few thousand. Seven at the most." He shook his head. "There aren't enough troops in the city to defend against that many. You've got them out patrolling the roads and farmlands. The city guards won't be up to defending the city against that many darkspawn."

I refrained from adding my opinion; namely that the guards weren't up to defending against anything more than a litter of unweaned kittens. "The walls will help, and that's why I agreed to pull the troops out of the city in the first place. But one thing that could really tip the scales in our favour would be a few battlemages at the gate."

He swallowed, paling in realisation. "You're going, aren't you?"

I nodded. "Yes. My arling. My responsibility." I didn't mention that I could get there quickly, and likely destroy the army myself. Unless there was no other option, I'd prefer to keep that a secret. Mages were distrusted enough without me revealing the full extent of my powers.

He shook his head. "Kathryn, not even Maric, Loghain and my father would have willingly faced an army of thousands in that city without their own forces behind them. This is suicide!"

I grinned at him with humour I did not feel. "Nate, I only had two other Wardens at my side when we charged into Denerim six months ago. I faced the archdemon with a handful of warriors, a dog and a dozen mages. Apart from Loghain, we all survived. We can do this."

He took a deep breath and let it out, suddenly looking a lot more confident. "Yes ma'am."

I nodded and smiled at him, then turned to a guard next to me. "Go and gather my Wardens. We need to plan this out."

"You are not leaving me behind!" Oghren shouted, smashing his gauntleted hands down on the table, making the mugs along its entire length jump.

I smiled at him. "I'd sooner be stonekissed and go back to the Circle," I replied easily, his loyalty buoying my own spirits. "But those of us who go will not necessarily survive. I can't leave the arling and the country without Grey Warden protection. So I'm only taking some of you."

My Wardens glanced around at each other with identical questioning glances.

I looked at Nathaniel. "Firstly, chain of command. Nate, you're my second. Whatever happens, your priority is to clear the arling, and then the rest of Ferelden of any darkspawn. If I don't return, you're Warden-Commander."

Oghren barked a laugh at Nathaniel's expression and slapped him on the back, not the least bit offended at not being my chosen successor. "That'll go down well with the pike-twirler."

"Not his decision," I said firmly. "I know it will be difficult, especially since you'll need to report to Alistair and Fergus, but I believe in you. I've left the necessary documents in my study. Avernus and Jowan at Soldier's Peak can supply you with all you need to recruit more Wardens. You can do this."

"T-thank you, Kathryn," he said, emotion clouding his usually expressionless face.

"Right. Velanna, I need you with me. Between us, we should be able to keep the darkspawn away from the walls."

The Dalish mage nodded at me without fear.

Seranni objected, however. "You cannot take my sister without me!"

It appeared that the rift between them was not so great as to trump family ties. I glared at her. "I can and I will. I need you here. We will need scouts and archers more than ever in the coming months. I'm sorry Seranni, but I can't take you."

She opened her mouth to object, but at a glance from Velanna and an elbow nudge from Sigrun, nodded her acceptance. "Yes, Commander."

"Sigrun," I started.

"Fighting a horde of darkspawn with almost certain death awaiting? Don't even think of leaving me behind!" she declared; naked glee in her voice at the prospect of certain death in battle.

I hesitated. I hadn't planned on bringing her along.

Seeing my indecision, she plowed on in an attempt to justify her inclusion. "Come on! I'm no scout, I can't use a crossbow worth a damn and they don't make bows small enough for me. If there's going to be city-fighting, you need someone like me!"

I blinked away the sudden relief at not having to order someone to their probable death. "Very well. Oghren, Sigrun and Velanna, go and prepare. Travel light - armour, weapons, potions and bombs. Nothing else; we need to make good time. I've got some drakescale that should fit you in a pinch, Velanna. You're not going in robes. No, don't argue."

Seranni snorted at that. Velanna glared at her.

"Go and say your goodbyes," I instructed them. "Anders?"

He gave me a mock expression of disappointment. "Aw, I'm not going on the suicide mission?"

I rolled my eyes. "No. I need you to go through the documents and notebooks we brought back from the Architect's laboratory. Find some weakness, a gap in his knowledge, anything. Look over my notes too."

He frowned, but nodded. "All right. I presume you want me to send copies of my research to the other Wardens?"

"Yes, but a copy will need to go to the Circle for their input. The Architect is dangerous, you saw him too, and we may need more magical help to end the threat." I ran a weary hand across my eyes. "And I need you to keep an eye on Justice."

He frowned. "He doesn't need to be watched."

I shrugged. "Perhaps. But if we don't come back, you're the only Warden capable of sending him back to the Fade. The lyrium is down in the basement. If the worst happens and you need some money, sell some of it. Maybe you can buy that chapeau you want."

His expression darkened, even in the face of my attempt at humour. "I'm not sending him back just because you're afraid of him."

"I'm not afraid of him and I'm not suggesting you do," I snapped, the tension of the past hour getting to me. "I just want you to be aware of your responsibility, all right?"

"Fine. Though you might want to keep an eye out for his wife," he muttered.

I frowned at the apparent non-sequitur. "What?"

He gave me a shrug of helplessness. "Kristoff's wife was in the courtyard when we got back. She spotted Justice after you were escorted away and thought he was her husband coming home. She didn't take his appearance well at all."

I groaned, covering my eyes. I really could not imagine what it would be like to see your missing husband looking alive and well only to discover he was neither, but still walking around. "I really don't need this right now. Where is she?"

"Dunno. On her way back to Amaranthine I think. She took off out the gate in tears."

I stared at him. A Warden's widow was heading back to a city under attack by darkspawn? "You didn't stop her?"

"Hey, I'll willingly face down darkspawn and dragons for you; I owe you that much for freeing me from the Circle. But never order me to take on an hysterical woman. I'm not that crazy."

Sigrun and Oghren were prepped and ready to go within an hour. Velanna took somewhat longer to get ready, even with her sister squiring. She was unaccustomed to donning armour, and argued long and loud about how justified the various steps involved were. The drake-scale fit her frame well enough, though it was a bit tight around the piece Oghren would no doubt call the, hur-hur-breastplate.

The four of us looked fabulous as we strode out through the milling crowd of nobles; like true legends of lore. My archdemon-scale armour was as eye-catching as ever, and Oghren looked imposing in black-enameled, Legion plate with his gigantic axe over one shoulder. Sigrun's paragon-forged armour was a glorious, glittering vision. And Velanna cut a very, very flattering figure - in a way that I never could.

Everyone present believed we were marching off to our deaths, and we certainly looked the part. It did not escape notice that there were no humans among us. I wondered in passing if that fact would be advertised on the chance we did not return.

We hurried along the now familiar road. A steady stream of frightened refugees headed south against our progress. Oghren and Sigrun both ran at a fast, steady pace, in silent concentration. Their Grey Warden constitution augmented by both their dwarven heritage and Avernus' alchemy allowed them to run for hours at a half-sprint.

As mabari, Thunder and I loped alongside them, easily keeping pace. Between his heavy breaths, I heard Oghren grumbling something about mabari chariots, and it being a chance lost.

Velanna however, made progress much faster than any of us. She could travel swiftly through the earth for great stretches, and was able to cast that spell every other minute or so without exhausting herself. She covered the distance at about half a mile a minute, and wasn't even breathing hard.

Despite our speed, we arrived too late. The darkspawn were already at the city.

We fell on a group in front of the gates with naked ferocity. Tainted heads arced over the field of battle wherever Oghren swept. Groups of darkspawn froze and shattered under elemental forces directed by Velanna and I. Sigrun and Thunder tore apart their ranks.

Damn, but we were good at killing darkspawn!

A cheer rose around us as we put the last one down. Muted at first, but growing in intensity, the sound of victory echoed around the field.

The joy did not last. The temporary victory gave us the opportunity to take stock of the situation. The darkspawn were not just outside the walls of the city. They were already inside.

What stunned me, after wiping tainted blood from Spellweaver's blade, was that Constable Aiden and several of his city guards were outside the walls too.

I stared at the man, trying to conceive of a scenario that could possibly explain how the guards ended up out here and the darkspawn inside. My expression must have been readable even to him, he blushed and explained that the tainted creatures had erupted through the ground. There had been fighting in the city before anyone even saw darkspawn on the horizon.

Before I could question why that meant that he should abandon the city, another darkspawn approached. Another disciple, this one with a bluish tabard, ostensibly to signify its allegiance with the Architect.

It raised its hands in what would have been a gesture of peace had it come from a human. It begged to be allowed to deliver a message. At my nod, it moved forward, limping slightly. It told of the darkspawn army on the way to Vigil's Keep. That it was the Mother's plan to destroy the fortress utterly.

Panicking, Aiden suggested we abandon Amaranthine and leave for the Vigil. Sigrun shouted an objection. Velanna agreed with Aiden's suggestion, not fearfully but pragmatically, believing the city lost. Oghren nodded his agreement.

I turned to look at Amaranthine. Behind the walls, there were still human screams.

"No. Not while there are survivors. We need to kill the darkspawn here," I declared.

The darkspawn messenger shouted, "No... no! If you stay, the Mother will get what she wants!"

I shook my head. "Tie this thing up. It has information I need." I turned to my Wardens as some guards tentatively carried out my order. "Nathaniel is more than capable of defending the Vigil, especially with all the people there. You saw the work Voldrik has done on the walls. The soldiers are all equipped with Wade's work. You think a darkspawn army would break them?"

Oghren grunted, and shook his head. "Ah, you're right. Nate'll keep that place safe for ya."

Velanna frowned, but agreed. "Nathaniel is most capable, for a human. If anyone could keep your fortress safe, it would be he."

Sigrun clapped her hands together. "Right then. We're all agreed. We save the city."

Save it we did. Just like the our arrival at Vigil's Keep a few weeks ago, we washed the city clean of tainted monsters. We found a truly staggering number of survivors, who were directed to make for the gates.

There were powerful darkspawn individuals leading the attack. One carried a staff that Velanna claimed after she directed a network of living vines to tear its previous owner apart. She gasped as she picked it up, and I could almost feel her natural magic sing in harmony with the weapon's enchantments.

The difference was marked. The staff magified the power of her spells that called upon the earth and plants. With that weapon in her hands, she became a true danger on the battlefield.

She wasn't the only one to discover a suitable weapon. We cut down a group of darkspawn who'd been destroying part of the merchant quarter - one of them carrying a staff I recognised as being taken from a local shop. The vendor had called it Spellfury, and I'd have bought it the first time I saw it, had he not demanded more than twice what Voldrik had required to fully repair and upgrade the walls around the Vigil.

I claimed it now though. A flood of magic raced up my arm as I grasped the enchanted wood. Velanna's staff complemented a mage that lived in concert with nature. Spellfury was tailor made for someone who was the very reason templars were invented - a mage who just blew shit up. A mage like me.

I sheathed Spellweaver and swung my new staff around in an arc. On a whim, I sent a bolt of sizzling energy at a distant darkspawn. The wood bucked under my fingers, seeming to test the grip of its new owner. It must have decided that I was suitable to wield it - the silver pulse of magic that burst from its tip shot across the divide, impacted and blew the hurlock's head apart.

Sigrun and Oghren gaped at the staff for a moment, but their grins quickly mirrored my own.

"All right!" the three of us said in unison, before we burst into laughter.

Velanna just sniffed, and went back to caressing her own weapon.

There were remarkably few darkspawn in the city. Even taking into account their ability to enter the city from underneath, it was their appearance and presence that caused the most damage to the defensive lines. People panicked, ran and hid, ceding the city to only a few score of the horrific creatures. Still, we killed each and every one we found.

My new staff fit as though it were modeled on my magic. I had been using a sword for so long that I had forgotten exactly what it was to be a mage. Spellweaver had been a blessing when I first learned the Arcane Warrior arts; having an armoured magic user in our party had been invaluable. But now, with this staff, I finally remembered who I was.

I was a mage.

We found the majority of the survivors barricaded in the Chantry. A quick survey revealed almost half the population safe behind the thick walls and doors. Most were huddled in fervent prayer, led by a priest at the far end. A couple of templars hovered around the doorway, weapons drawn and ready.

Several people, on recognising us, pleaded for help to locate loved ones. As frustrating as dealing with the multiple yammering voices was, I could not help but be moved by their plight. Even Velanna's cool demeanor thawed momentarily. We promised to send any survivors we located here, and vowed to clear the city of darkspawn.

It proved to be a simple, if tedious job. We ranged all over, and even under, the city. I had the ability to sense darkspawn within the city walls, and could tell when the last pair fell under the Crown and Lion Inn - one to Thunder's mighty jaws, the other to Velanna's nature magic.

Oghren grumbled a bit at the fight being over, but was happy to head back up into the inn. He filled various skins and earthenware jugs from the few unbroken bottles and kegs as Sigrun noodled around in the wreckage for anything interesting.

I told my Wardens to split up and help search the city for survivors hiding from the darkspawn. I had a darkspawn prisoner to interrogate.

Beyond the willingly divulged location of the Mother's lair, the darkspawn messenger had no other viable information. That's not to say that it did not have anything to say, just that it refused to cooperate. Threats did nothing, and I had no way of appealing to the base desires of greed or lust. I ended its life quickly and painlessly, before looting and incinerating the corpse.

"Drake's Fall," I told my Wardens once we regrouped in the Chantry. "It's on the map of the arling in Kristoff's room at the inn. Supposedly, it's a decrepit and crumbling fortress in an area called the Dragonbone Wastes."

Sigrun giggled. "This arling has the silliest names. It's like they wanted to scare people away rather than have them come and settle."

Velanna actually snorted with amusement. "What the shemlen call 'Dragonbone Wastes', we of the Dalish call, well, it translates as either 'Graveyard of the Dragon' or 'Dragon's Rest'. It's much more poetic in our tongue, but it is not a name given lightly. Ancient dragons lived and died there. The ground still holds the shapes of their bodies. Their bones still reside there."

Oghren perked up. "There's dragonbone just lying around there? How much?"

Velanna blinked in surprise. "I, I do not know. I have never seen it myself. But I have heard tales of entire skeletons casting shadows on the dead earth."

His green eyes lit up, but I shook my head. "Don't get too excited. Someone would have striped the place clear of usable bone long ago. But we'll see if there isn't some we can take."

Sigrun checked her weapons. "We should go and check that map at the inn and then go. Should we go back to the Vigil first?"

"No, Nate and the others will have to keep the Vigil safe. If the Mother's army is in the field, it's not protecting her. We take her out, that's one faction leader gone."

Oghren grunted and headed for the door. "Can't wait," he mumbled.

I frowned. "What's up with him?" I asked Velanna.

She pursed her lips. "The widow of your Warden Kristoff is over there in one of the transepts. Oghren spoke with her while you were interrogating the darkspawn. He… drank heavily afterwards."

I winced. I was happy that she made it back to the city safely, but I wouldn't wish a confrontation with her upon any of my Wardens.

The trip towards Drake's Fall was far less demanding that the previous leg to Amaranthine City. We sensed some darkspawn nearby, but never close enough to take the time to root out. A day after leaving the city, we approached the Mother's lair.

The convoluted path to the ruined castle was bustling with darkspawn. Entertainingly, factions from both the Mother and the Architect were represented in the rapidly dwindling population.

Hurlock against hurlock, genlock against genlock. Children fighting both. The forces of the Mother and the Architect slaughtered each other as we marched closer. Occasionally, we got to use our weapons.

"Bugger this for a game of soldiers," Oghren grumbled after he mopped up a pair of children that was all that remained of a dozen who had died at the hand of another darkspawn. "Sodding bastards are taking all the fun."

A familiar scream echoed across the landscape. Velanna stiffened momentarily, and gripped her new staff tight. "That is a-"

"-dragon," I finished for her.

"Aye, here we go again. Hopefully them babies you've got at the Peak are a mite more pleasant to be around once they're big and all."

The High Dragon guarding the castle roared out of the sky and slammed into the ground nearby, causing the ground to shake. I arced Spellfury around and launched a petrification curse. With my spellpower amplified by the enchanted weapon, the entire dragon solidified. I fancied that the frozen expression on its face was one of extreme surprise, but that may just have been wishful thinking.

Velanna called forth dozens of vines and weeds from the earth, which wrapped around the dragon's legs and tail. Dwarven axe began hewing chunks of flesh from the beast's legs, but Sigrun used her dagger and short sword in tandem to climb the body.

The dragon roared as it overcame my magic and wrenched itself free of its living bindings. Sigrun managed to keep her grip even as she flopped about, but the dragon's enormous tail tore free and swept hard into Oghren, sending him flying. He grunted audibly as the initial blow blasted the air from his lungs. His almost flat trajectory was interrupted by a column of stone, and he crumpled to the ground at its base.

"Oghren!" Velanna cried, dashing to his side.

I cursed under my breath. Velanna had never fought as a member of a team, and by leaving my side and Thunder's protection, we were weakened as a unit. As much as I was pleased that she had found some level of camaraderie with one of my Wardens, her timing could have been better. I weaved another spell, and called on elemental cold to freeze the dragon in place. Once more, its movements were restricted, and Sigrun resumed her climb.

"Aaah, sandstone!" I heard Oghren wheeze, the ultimate dwarven curse. I gave a silent prayer that with Velanna at his side, he'd survive.

I launched spell after spell, avoiding the more indiscriminate ones. I cycled between damage and containment - bolts of arcane energy, paralyzation hexes, tight lances of lightning, bursts of intense cold and spirit- and life-draining curses. I downed one of my ultra-potent lyrium potions in a rare pause and just kept casting.

The accumulated damage would have been substantial, had it been on any other target than such a gigantic beast. Sigrun however, was well placed to finish the battle quickly, and I had no wish to harm her with errant spellcraft.

The plucky dwarf clambered up the serpentine neck, jabbing her dagger and sword in as she went. My eyes were starting to lose focus at the amount of magic I was unleashing; I was onto my third lyrium potion.

A vision appeared that buoyed my morale. Weaving unsteadily, Oghren charged back into the fight, his determination even tougher than his dented armour. With a grand, overhead smash, he pinned the dragon's front foot to the ground.

It shrieked in pain, head rearing back. Sigrun took the opportunity to jump at it, and grabbed on. She skillfully opened an artery on the side of its neck, then as its head bent forward, jammed her sword behind the skull-ridge.

It took a fair amount of healing to get the duster back on her feet after crashing to the ground from that height. Fortunately, Velanna was a competent healer, compensating for my lack of talent in that area. She was no Anders or Wynne, but then again, very few people ever reached their level of skill.

"That was soooooo much fun," Sigrun giggled, shifting her armour back into position. "I hope the dragons we raise will let me ride them."

"You are insane," Velanna declared. "You could have been killed, falling from that height!"

Sigrun looked back at the elf, her pretty face expressing mild confusion. "I'm already dead," she pointed out.

That led to a lecture on the principles and ethos behind the Legion of the Dead. Velanna's clan had not met many Children of the Stone, as she called them, and never a Legionnaire. No matter how often she insisted that Sigrun was indeed alive, neither dwarf in our party believed her.

Rather than let the discussion turn into an argument, I pointed out that we now had even more exceptional quality material for the Grey Wardens. Velanna actually laughed, a low, soft chuckle that sounded quite unused. Faced with three surprised expressions, she suggested that maybe we should be called the Purple Wardens, after the colour of the archdemonscale I wore.

Eventually, the conversation had served its purpose, and we were rested enough to continue on into the ruined building the dragon had been guarding. I cast a spells that coated our weapons with elemental frost, placed my body partially in the Fade, and enhanced my spells' power and hardened my skin. Velanna followed suit with some of her own spells, based on the power of nature.

Thus prepared, we entered the ruined fortress.

Inside, the decay of time was less apparent. The stone that made up the floor and walls was flaked and cracked, but to a far lesser extent than the ravaged building skeleton outside. The atmosphere was close, heavy. The stench of broodmother lingered in the air like sticky smoke, coating everything. I wanted a bath. And probably another one or two after that.

We smashed every pulpy grey egg that spawned Children we saw; a disgusting job, but satisfying in its own way. Thunder seemed to find the experience enjoyable, if his happy thrashing around was any indication. He was due a bath or two as well.

We made good progress, deep into the earth. Deep, circular pits lined with stone stairs gave the appearance of inverted towers. We descended these carefully, battling groups of darkspawn at irregular intervals.

At the base of one of the 'towers', a dense, oily blot on my senses resolved into the Architect, standing on a stone ridge above our position. Beside it was the dwarf female from the mines. The emaciated darkspawn spread his hands and floated down to our position.

It made no move to attack, and I couldn't explain why I did the same, allowing it to land mere feet from our position.

In a mucus-tainted voice, it asked for a temporary truce, and once again, I had no choice but to allow it. My preference, my desire, to simply attack it on sight was somehow lost the instant I laid eyes on it.

It began justifying its actions as I mentally fought the power it held over my. The blood it had taken from me was obviously being used to stay my hand, a realisation that infuriated me. I imagined cracks appearing in the chains he held over me, but I could not break them.

Velanna predictably ranted about the kidnapping of her sister. The darkspawn did not even bother to wave its hand in dismissal, it simply kept its attention on me. Its voice would have been soothing, trustworthy, had it not been for the shucking, phlegm-filled breathing difficulties. It described how it tried to free the Mother from the Old Gods' Call. How she 'reacted poorly' to her new-found freedom.

Through a tongue made numb, I pointed out that not all darkspawn appeared to desire freedom.

It sucked in another deep, audible breath and tried to express regret, a concept I gathered it was unfamiliar with. It continued its exposition as I silently cursed my unresponsive limbs. Unexpectedly, my attention was drawn to its words when it mentioned the Old God Urthemiel.

The Architect started the Blight! Both Thunder and Oghren growled in similar fashions as they realised it too.

Heedless of our reaction, the Architect continued to speak, offering assistance to us to kill the Mother. In return, it would take its followers and delve deep into the earth, promising there would be no more Blights.

"So," I said, all but trembling in effort to break the invisible chains on me. "My Wardens and I kill the Mother, and you leave us in peace, is that it?"

"Precisely, Commander."

I nodded, drawing slow, steady breaths. "So, we join forces just as we did to the Baroness in Blackmarsh?"

The Architect looked baffled for a moment, but just a moment. With his attention fully on me, he missed the true danger.

Oghren recognised my statement as an order, and his axe smashed into the darkspawn's side, hurling the tall, slender frame hard into the stone wall. The instant the Architect's gaze broke mine, control of my limbs returned, and I whipped Spellfury out and around, a sizzling bolt of arcane energy already forming at its tip.

"Sodding freak!" the berserker shouted, pulling back his axe for another go. Thunder leapt past in one bound, savaging at a limb.

The Architect's dwarven ally opened her mouth in an eerie, silent warcry and charged in to defend her master. Sigrun met her charge with one of her own, and the pair faced off in a savage duel. Blade rang on shield and armour. Sparks flew as weapon edges met, lighting up the dim area in flashes of stark shadow.

The fight was not pretty. Even though it looked as thin as to be fragile, the Architect was barely winded by Oghren's initial strike. Its magic seemed limitless as it casually loosed spell after spell, needing neither lyrium nor time to gather breath. It shrugged off my petrification and freezing spells, and sent both Velanna and I flying with a fiery pulse of elemental magic.

Velanna shrieked as her hair ignited. But I was suddenly quite sure she was relieved to be wearing flame-resistant drakescale, rather than her usual cloth robes.

With no clear advantage, I settled into a steady, damaging chain of spells. The last syllable of one merged easily into the beginning of the next. Maintaining my protective magicks proved too draining, and I downed potion after potion trying to keep up a magical barrage.

It was as potent a display of magic as I'd ever performed. I pushed myself to the limit, but despite it all, my spells were overmatched; indeed, even had Velanna joined in the assault instead of simply keeping us alive, we'd have been overmatched.

But we were Grey Wardens. And we killed darkspawn, no matter what.

With a little help from Thunder, Sigrun had the tainted dwarf woman down in less than a minute. With Oghren and Sigrun working in tandem, I could at least take the time to draw a deep breath.

Sigrun found a gap in its defense, and sliced her fine dagger across the back of the Architect's knee. She received a hard slap for her trouble; hard enough that it sent her flying. But it stumbled and went down on the damaged knee, bringing more of it closer to Oghren's height.

The ginger dervish swung his axe with all his considerable might, but the darkspawn's skin was rock hard. It leaned away slightly, and the enchanted weapon struck a glancing blow.

I was burned, frozen and crippled with pain from spells from the Architect's repertoire. Velanna's competent healing skills were sorely tested, and I began relying on potent healing salves as well as the enhanced lyrium potions made with the recipe found under Vigil's Keep. The dwarves bashed, sliced and hacked at the creature, only to be repeatedly tossed aside.

Finally, it was Thunder who broke the devastating stalemate. Trailing torn skin and burned fur, he bounded off Oghren's shoulder and latched onto the bony ridge sprouting from the back of the Architect's neck, his weight causing the darkspawn's back to arch.

Sigrun leapt, one arm a dislocated, dangling appendage, and buried her sword under its chin.

In the long silence that followed, we simply sat where we fell, gulping air and regaining our wind. The battle had been an eternity of panicked action.

"Ancestors, I hope the Mother is easier to put down than this one," Sigrun declared.

There was a chorus of agreement.

It took a few hours before we felt ready to approach the next challenge. My vision was tinged lightly blue, a fact that I kept to myself. Too much lyrium in your bloodstream during high stress events like battle sometimes caused the tiny blood vessels in your eyes to seep. Anders would no doubt say that it would be several days before it would be safe for me to use a potion to boost my magical reserves.

It occurred to me that not all of us had experience battling broodmothers. I mentioned it, and Sigrun turned to Velanna and started giving her a quick lesson in what to expect when fighting a darkspawn breeding factory. I let her talk.

We pushed forward, through a narrow aperture, made even narrower by the glistening red organic coating of pungent mucous. Beyond was an enormous cavern that stank so much my eyes watered.

Attached permanently to a raised, rocky outcrop, squatted the Mother. She had been a human woman before her transformation. A pretty one at that. Her scarred face and blood-rimmed eyes hinted at a long-lost beauty. The first pair of her exposed breasts were full and lush, but the sight of the remaining pairs quashed any lust or leering comment from Oghren.

She spotted us and screamed and bayed crazily, waving both her arms and tentacles about. A mass of chittering, scurrying darkspawn children flooded out of the disgusting pods arrayed around her body.

"Hold this line," I shouted, raising Spellfury aloft. I chanted deliberately, refusing to rush. On the final syllable of my spell, a swirling mass of frigid air appeared in front of the Mother, quickly forming into a blizzard of ice. The storm froze and slowed many of the children in their frenzied rush towards us, leaving only a handful for Oghren, Sigrun and Thunder to handle.

Velanna cast her own spell, sucking the life energy from the closest children. "You missed!" she shrieked. "The broodmother is beyond your spell's range!"

I nodded as I took a breath. "For now," I replied calmly, and began chanting once again. This time, I tapped into the magic of elemental lightning, duplicating the spell combination I performed for the Cousland brothers many months ago.

Once more, the crackling power of an electrical tempest fought the established frigid storm, before the magical waveforms merged - and magnified. As the power surged out of me, I dropped to one knee, trembling at the effort.

The created storm was even more powerful than the one I cast on the field of battle. The original limits of the first spell swelled and burst, creating a vast tempest of ice and lightning covering twice the area. The Mother screamed - first in rage, then in agony - as pure destruction rained down upon her bloated body. She could not run, or defend herself.

The rest of the children perished in their pods or just after emerging. Every tentacle the broodmother threaded towards us froze and shattered. My Wardens allowed their guard to drop as my magic tore the mother to shreds.

Long moments later, the magic storm played itself out. Every tentacle was shredded, every grub a greasy smear.

Velanna and Sigrun were staring straight at me, their mouths and eyes opened wide in similar, comic expressions of astonishment. Oghren, who'd seen that particular spell combination before, just chuckled and wheezed at the looks on their faces.

Despite my spell's devastating power, the Mother still lived. Torn, bleeding and broken, she still burbled and hissed epithets at us through blood-spattered lips. I leveled Spellfury at her and whispered, "I'm so sorry. The Maker will watch over you." With the last dregs of my magical strength, I called forth a sizzling bolt of arcane energy, and blasted her head from her body.

Thunder licked my hand, his liquid-brown eyes looking up at me in worry. I reached around and gave his ears a scratch. "Thanks, boy."

He whuffed, and wagged his stubby tail.

Oghren shouldered his axe and gave a hacking cough. "This place stinks even worse than Felsi's cooking."

I found myself chuckling, but the laugh turned into a hacking cough. "Remind me never to stop by for dinner."

o_ooo000ooo_o

AN: Many thanks to my reviewers - Pintsizedpsycho, Nightbrainzz, Melidell, MB18932, Isabeau of Greenlea, Alifangirl21, Jessica Hawke, Arsinoe de Blassenville and Guest. Cheers guys.

My voiceover work went well, and they've asked me back to do more. I'm taking this as a good sign...