From the Ashes: Sparks of Something Greater (ch. 19) (Patreon)

“Soris will be here in a few days,” I told the Rabbits back at the Blushing Maid, days later after my arrest. Despite my orders to remain calm, I had entered the building to find that they were damn near in open revolt with the tables being lined with every weapon we had smuggled or bought immediately after my release. Isabela and her crew were passed out, drunk, in various bedrooms, completely oblivious to it as far as I could tell. Either that or they very much didn’t want to be involved. “‘Till then, you know your orders. Remind people why they should be afraid of us.”

I pointed to a Rabbit, “You, what is old Billy doing?” I asked him, earning a blink of surprise. “Is he still forbidding elves entry to his fancy new tavern?” I asked, and the elf that I pointed at nodded. “Good. He probably got a real kick out of my arrest. I want you to go there, break his legs, bar the door to the tavern and threaten to burn it along with anyone that happens to be inside. Threaten. We’ve set enough of the city on fire, yeah?”

That got a few chuckles and laughs while the Rabbits nodded. “That’s the tone we’re going to set. You’ve seen it on the streets -- gangs got uppity, and common folk started to revert to their old ways. Smack ‘em down and smack them down hard. Teach this city that the only thing worse than the Rabbits with me in charge is me not being here,” I instructed them all. Let the city of Denerim see that I was keeping the violence in check. Then, by tomorrow, Soris would be here to keep the peace.

Soris was the closest leader of the Rabbits over in Amaranthine, which was a five-day journey on foot. The ravens that the Rabbits used would get there in about a day, delivering my letter which detailed what was going on -- The Blight, me becoming a Grey Warden, and orders on what to do. He would leave Amaranthine, leaving a trusted second in charge of the city, while I fucked off to the ass end of the ass end of the world to fight monsters.

I was worried about that gap. It might not be much beyond a single day, but it was a day that I wouldn’t be here to control things. I had trusted lieutenants in Denerim, but given my public arrest, the situation was volatile. Preferably, I would like to stay until Soris arrived. It wasn’t an option, however. The King marshaled his levies quickly after announcing that a darkspawn horde had been seen in the south.

The people were afraid of darkspawn, especially if it was a Blight, and despite every harsh word everyone had ever said about the king, they loved that he was riding off to fight the darkspawn himself.

“Let the guards know that we’re watching where they live. All of them. Don’t do nuthin’, but let them see that we could,” I continued. The threat of violence was more often than not more effective than actual violence once people knew you would make good on the threat. “Is all that understood?”

I got a round of ayes that sounded convincing enough. I just had to hope that they wouldn’t burn down the rest of the city before Soris showed up. I finished up giving specific orders -- some targets were specific, others were general, and others were to make sure that things stayed stable financially. It was another two hours later before I made to leave the Blushing Maid, the situation as in hand as it could be. And, to my faint surprise, I saw Isabela leaning on the side of the door.

“Off to slay the Archdemon are you?” She asked, earning a glance from me as I made to continue on my way. “I think you’d look rather fetching in Grey Warden armor. You made a good choice joining up with them. All you need now is to bother styling your hair, maybe oil you up so you glisten, and you’ll look like the dashing hero that saves the whole world.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Here to see me off?” I questioned, earning a shrug from Isabela.

“I have,” Isabela said, her tone teasing with the faintest edges of a smirk tugging at her lips. “You know, for a man who literally lives in a brothel, you’re awfully chaste. I was digging up stories about you while you were off in the dungeons -- not a single lewd detail about your personal life to be found. I wanted you to know how disappointed I was before you moved on to go do some righteous Grey Wardening.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but it’s bad manners to sleep with the help,” I retorted, earning a scoff from Isabela.

“Manners. Right. I can tell you’re oh so worried about manners when you spend your days cutting out eyes and burning down buildings,” she remarked, giving me a disappointed look. “I’m just saying, it would be a terrible shame to let this opportunity go to waste. You’re going to be a Grey Warden. Live it up a little. I’m expecting lewd stories when you get back,” Isabela stated, a purr in her tone but, I heard what she didn’t say. That she would be here and she was voicing concern in her own way.

I wasn’t quite sure why. It wasn’t like Isabela owed me anything and we hardly knew each other. Still, I appreciated it all the same, “I’ll do my best to have a lurid adventure while also slaying the Archdemon. The Rabbits were given word that everything is on the house for you. Try not to bankrupt me while I’m gone,” I said, striding forward and waving farewell over my shoulder.

There were other arrangements that I needed to make and not all of the farewells would be as pleasant.

The hidey-hole I spent my nights in had become increasingly furnished in the past year. The walls were lined with books -- all magical in nature, texts that had been liberated either to or from the Circles with a staff in the corner. Years later, I still couldn’t cast with one, so I more or less gave up on it. It was next to a detailed model of the city of Denerim, compete with the smuggling tunnels that I developed over the past year.

Grabbing my bag of holding, I began to fill it with essentials -- clothes, boots, rations, and water. I also packed a few texts that I had been in the middle of. The Keening Blade was strapped to my hip with my leather belt while Fang went into the bag as well. My gaze went to the shrine to my family and Kallian. On impulse, I gathered them as well. The last thing that I began to shove into my bag was an assortment of valuables -- fifty sovereigns worth of jewels, fifty sovereigns worth of gold, then silver, then bronze bits for a grand total of a hundred and seventy sovereigns worth of money.

Whoever said crime didn’t pay was a damn fool. It paid and it paid well. Though, most of my personal savings came from the vault of Denerim, which I was still working my way through. The Rabbits had six thousand sovereigns worth of savings, and four thousand of it came from what I stole when I murdered Alr Urien.

My gaze lingered on the hidden wall in my hidey-hole. Behind the hidden wall would be a staircase and at the end of it would be another wall. Beyond that would be my most hated enemies in the world. The ones that I refused to let pass over into death, forced to live out their days in a hole in the ground, naked, without ever seeing the sun. Vaughan had been there the longest, but Maric and his ilk had been there for a year.

And in that year, with their help, my magic increased by leaps and bounds. Especially my illusions.

It was tempting to say farewell to them. To let them know that I was a Grey Warden and I would be off fighting the Blight like a big damn hero. However, I knew that would be a mistake. If they knew I would be gone for, in theory, possibly years, they might get ideas. Most of them had no clue how long they had been there at this point. My extended absence may not seem extended to them. And, with the goodberry plants hanging from the ceiling, they had food and air. In short, they would be fine until I came back.

Shouldering my pack, I rolled my shoulders, I cast one last look around the room to see if there was anything else that I wanted to take and my eyes landed on the tomes. Taking them would be a risk, and at this point, I’m pretty sure that I had them memorized cover to cover… but… the Grey Wardens were exempt from being forced into the Circle. Part of the deal, I suppose. Maybe I could find a likeminded mage to show them to. Might learn a thing or three from them and if there were others with my talents, then that would help the Rabbits a great deal.

If we could control the vermin, or go invisible… Just one in every city, the Rabbits would be an unstoppable force. In theory, anyway.

The idea of leading a rat army with cat and dog cavalry was enough to get me to shove the tomes into my pack. With that, I left the hidey-hole, knowing that it could be years before I stepped foot in it again. Leaving the sewers, I cleaned myself of the smell before I began to make my way through the docks, already seeing evidence of the Rabbits reminding the city why it should fear us. Violence was in the streets and the guard was watching on, doing nothing. As they should and as normal.

I made my way through the streets, heading to the Grey Warden compound over in the noble quarter -- a gift from King Maric, if I remembered correctly. It was a harsh contrast to the rest of the estates. It was a single-story building with walls around the compound itself, but it felt more like a barracks as I approached it. Casting Knock and Silence on the front gate, I pushed it open to see a courtyard with training dummies, archery butts, and a well.

It wasn’t the first time I was here. I came once before to get my measurements from a servant so old that I think she might have seen the last Blight firsthand. Grey Warden armor would be issued to me upon officially joining the Grey Wardens. I was just a recruit at the moment, meaning that I could wear whatever I liked.

“Would you look at that? I thought he’d pull a runner,” I heard as I entered the compound, looking over to see the other Wardens that had remained to march with the King’s levy. There were four of them -- Alistair, the warden I had met before, Gregior, another large human with a bushy beard, and two dwarves. One man with a light brown mane of hair that flowed into his beard seamlessly and a blonde-haired female dwarf whose face could be made of granite for all the expression it showed. I didn’t know their names.

Alistair and the others were readying the horses -- brushing them down, feeding them, making sure that the horseshoes were clean and secured. Alistair didn’t seem particularly enthused to see me and I saw money change hands between the dwarves.

“I sent word to the Rabbits in South Reach,” I told them all as I entered the stable, seeing a number of horses -- it was made to fit more, but most of the Wardens were gone to my knowledge. Duncan already left on his recruiting trip, half of the wardens were already in the south scouting the darkspawn, and the other half were returning from a mission to Ozammar. “More will be joining us on the march down. Servants, labors, and such.”

“Right. Joy. So long as you’re only killing the darkspawn’s children,” Alistair remarked, his tone testy. The larger human Gregior simply nodded in response while I approached a horse. A white one with a dark mane. Reaching out with a hand to pet his neck, I tried to look like I knew what I was doing when I mounted him. The dwarves were riding ponies while I and the humans were riding war horses as far as I could tell.

I didn’t miss how the other Warden’s grimaced at that but said nothing about it. “I think that’s the plan, Alistair,” I responded, lightly grabbing the reins of the horse. In any case, my Rabbits would be valuable spies in the army and there would be opportunities down there.

The horse trotted along as I fell in line behind the other Wardens and Alistair seemed sour that he was riding alongside me. Oddly enough, the dwarves were the ones leading us as we left the compound, heading down the streets to join up with the parade that was being thrown for the odd two thousand men that were leaving the city. Alistair said nothing to me and I said nothing to him while I tried to not make a fool of myself.

We were given a place of honor near the King. King Cailan was a handsome human man and he was handsomer by his bulky gold and black armor, seated upon a black steed with a white mane. The word regal came to mind. According to every servant in the Royal Palace, he was a decent sort. More than a few used the words ‘like a puppy.’

Seated next to him was Teyrn Loghain, an older man wearing silverite armor. He was seated on a white horse like me, staring ahead at the gate before us with an unreadable expression. Cailan's royal guard was arranged around him, and behind them were us. Behind us were the poor shmucks that were going to have to walk all the way down to the Korcari Wilds. Queen Anora publicly wrapped a silk ribbon around Cailan's shoulder before he leaned down to give her a kiss.

The crowd went fucking wild for it, throwing flower petals by the fistful. Upon breaking away from the kiss, Cailan unsheathed a sword from his side, pointing it straight into the air before leveling it at the gate that led out of Denerim. “Forward! For Ferelden!” Calian shouted, leading the way while his wife hastily stepped back to avoid being trampled.

I saw Rabbits and other elves waving at me, their faces all smiles at the idea of me being a Grey Warden. I waved back until we were out of the city and facing a long road ahead of us.

…

When you weren’t traveling through knee high snow, it really sped things up, I found. It had taken me a month to get back to Denerim from the Frostback Mountains. Compared to that, anything was fast, but our pace proved to be sluggish. The army marched between ten or fifteen miles a day thanks to the Imperial Highway, regardless of its state of disrepair, but it was hundreds of miles from Denerim to the fortress called Ostagar.

I had learned it the first time, and I learned it again -- walking for days on end was boring and taxing. Boredom was the real danger on the march. Some people entertained themselves by playing games of Wicked Grace, or dice, or telling stories. Others by chatting.

“You were raised by dogs?” I questioned Alistair upon our thirteenth day of consecutive marching. The other Wardens were… not exactly avoiding me, but they were actively avoiding getting to know me. When there was news, I would share it -- such as Cailan and Loghain being at odds when it comes to strategy, but beyond that, we didn’t speak. Alistair shunned me, but you could only travel side by side for so long without saying something when the country side got too boring.

“Religious ones. It explains my table manners, you see,” Alistair chatted away, and even as he did, he didn’t seem happy about it. “Sent me off to the Chantry to become a Templar. I didn’t, thankfully. I was a day away from having to take my vows when Duncan conscripted me. Never been happier about anything in my life. Thought it was a gift from the Maker.”

I wondered how he would feel knowing that he spent the past week and a half riding side by side with a mage? Probably how I did realizing that I was riding with a Templar.

“Hm. Didn’t fancy spending your days hunting mages?” I asked him, trying to gauge how much of that not wanting to be a Templar was ideological differences or just personal ones. For all I knew, Alistair didn’t want to be a Templar because he thought all mages should be dead instead of locked away in a tall tower.

“No. Or, you know, being a prison guard. Mages are better off in the Circles, but I don’t want to be the one that has to guard them. Constantly watching them, searching for… Blood Magicness or demony behavior… sounds like a nightmare. Children get the worst of it. They just don’t know any better and they fall victim to demons because of it. I don’t have it in me to kill a child,” he said, casting me the dirtiest look imaginable as if he reminded himself why he didn’t like me.

“Oh? Well, it’s pretty easy when you come right down to it. Was that a sufficiently evil response for you?” I asked him, making Alistair's face twist into a scowl. “You want to get pissy with me? The shite I do, the vicious, vile, awful, and cruel shite? That’s what your kind has been doing to us for damn near a thousand years. The only difference Alistair -- and I mean the only difference -- is that I’m doing it to humans instead of humans doing it to elves.”

“It’s not right either way,” Alistair responded, either unable or unwilling to argue that point.

“You’re not wrong there,” I admitted. From the looks of it, Alistair wanted the fight and seemed conflicted that I wasn’t giving it to him. I offered a small shrug, “I’m not under any delusion that I’m somehow a good man. Or even a decent one. My cause is righteous but I sure as fuck ain’t.”

“Cause?” Alistair echoed, and of all the things he could have latched onto, it had to be that. He narrowed his eyes at me and, at the very least, I would give him that he was willing to listen. Even if he didn’t like what I had to say. It was a good trait to have, I suppose. If only I had it.

“The good ol’ cause. Freedom. Liberty. Not living in perpetual fear that a human will walk up to ya’ and murder you dead cuz’ he can. Simple things, really,” I responded, my tone flippant as I deflected the question. “It’s why I agreed to sign up with you Wardens. Duncan was persuasive -- he wants to use my Rabbits and I can use the Grey Wardens.”

His lips thinned, “So, anything is justified for the cause, then?” He asked me, earning a cocked eyebrow in response.

“Aye. Given your motto is ‘anything to combat the Blight’ you Grey Wardens should understand that better than anyone,” I responded.

“I don’t believe that,” Alistair refuted, his tone dour. I think he knew I was right on that point but knowing I was right and liking it were two very different things. “The darkspawn are vile creatures. If you believe the Chantry then they’re the source of all evil. What's the point in saving the whole world if we end up becoming worse than them? The darkspawn can’t help what they are. We can, though.”

To that, I didn’t have anything to say.

…

It was another four days before we reached the encampment of Ostagar. It was already populated with the levy of South Reach, Stenhold, and Western Hills. Between the three Arlings, the ruin almost looked like a small town as we approached through the untamed wildlands -- old trees with gnarled roots stood high, and the underbrush was only cleared out recently by the armies that came before us.

Ostagar itself was an impressive ruin, I suppose. It stood tall above the trees several times over. It was located on two hills for the most part with the tower portion being connected to the hall and walls with a bridge. I think the stone was meant to be white, but in the past thousand years, nature hadn’t been kind to the ruin. Veins, moss, and undergrowth claimed it and the fortress of Ostagar clearly sported signs of recent cleaning. It made the parts that hadn’t been touched as of yet seem filthier in comparison.

Still, the army made camp, and the two thousand extra bodies and the King were met with cheering before settling in. Each Arling offered between five hundred to a thousand men for the initial muster with promises of more on the way. Meaning, in addition to the King’s men, we had an army of four thousand alongside fifteen Grey Wardens. As armies went, it seemed like a good start as far as I could tell.

It was also a lesson. I could boast two thousand Rabbits in total throughout Ferelden, and yet, with a quick response, Ferelden could boast four thousand. That wasn’t considering the rest of the Arlings, the bannorn, nor the Teyrns. How many could Ferelden muster in total? Ten thousand? Twenty? Fifty? I didn’t know and it seemed that this was a chance to find out before I had to do so the hard way.

My Rabbits had already settled in. They took positions of runners and servants, keeping a low profile while gaining what information they could. Additionally, I started looking for the local vermin to get an idea of the surrounding area. The same old tricks worked -- just had to part with some of my rations to learn what laid beyond Ostagar. Out here, birds were the kings as the rats were in Denerim.

I hadn’t seen a darkspawn yet, but they were in the area according to the birds. As well as the Grey Wardens. I heard as much as we were all summoned to a war council. Well -- the Grey Wardens were. As a recruit, I wasn’t allowed to come. It was tempting to crash it anyway, but I much rather take the time to follow through on my own interests without a careful eye watching my every move.

Pass Without Trace and Invisibility were old friends at this point. They allowed me to go unnoticed as I entered the Tower of Ishal, finding that the tall tower was being cleaned out by an army of servants. It was already being used as quarters for the nobility and garrisons for the more important soldiers like knights and some such. At the top of it, however, was a rookery.

I heard the cawing of dozens of ravens -- messenger birds that would take messages throughout all of Ferelden. Each cage was labled with various villages, towns, and cities throughout Ferelden. Closing the door behind me, I approached them, channeling the fade to my throat, mouth, and ears. “Oi, want a chance to earn a bit of bread?”

That got the attention of the ravens, “Bread?” They questioned, chirping and squawking.

“Some seeds and a bit of meat as well,” I said, deciding that it would be well worth sacrificing some rats to the birds. “And it won’t be a bother to ya’. The humans have you flying back home, yeah?”

“Yeah. They tie things around our legs. Humans seem to like them though. I don’t really get it, but… humans, you know?” The raven said, offering a very human-like shrug of his wings. “But, I dunno… they feed us alright, I suppose.”

“For what they put you through? Flying for days on end, through the bloody rain and snow and what have you? Without rest?” I questioned, making the birds look at one another within the cage. “I think you deserve a bit more than ‘alright’, don’t you?” To that end, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a goodberry and slid it between the thin bars of the cage.

“Oh! Berries!” The raven cawed, gobbling the gooberry down. “That was good! Really good!” He stated and I had to suppress a smile at that. Animals, for all their cleverness, were simple creatures.

“I set up a whole bushel of them a little up North. It’s a human nest -- you can’t miss it. Outside of that nest is the bushel with berries like that. So, when you’re flying up to go wherever the humans are sending you, feel free to take a rest. One of my kind will check out those things they tie around your legs, but they’ll put it back before they send you on your way with a full belly. Because you deserve it,” I finished the sales pitch. The raven fluttered his wings in excitement.

“That’s perfect! You know, even if you don’t have any feathers, you’re alright! Hey! Guys! This guy is going to set us up-” I ended the spell, the raven’s cawing becoming just cawing. I had planted a number of goodberrys outside of Lothering, the village in question that sat at the crossroads just north of Ostagar. A simple thing, really.

With the Rabbits I had in the village, they would intercept the messenger birds and copy down what they said. They would then send those copies over to me so I could see what the orders were to the country. Likewise, I would be able to see what the responses were. If I could find a way to do the same to all the runners, then I would know everything that came in and out of the camp.

With my task done, I made my way back down the tower, going unseen. As I did so, I saw that the meeting that I wasn’t invited to hadn’t ended. It took place at the base of the tower in a private room, the war room, and from the sounds of it, things were certainly heating up. Noise flowed through due to the lack of a door, letting me invite myself into the war council without anyone being the wiser.

“We’ve ascertained the location of the bulk of the darkspawn horde, your majesty,” a man I had never met before, but knew by sight stated. Gallagher Wulff, the Arl of Western Hills, was impossible to mistake. Taller than most men by half a head with strong arms and broad shoulders, the man was imposing despite the fact he was closer to sixty than not. “As the Grey Warden’s suggested, the bulk of it seems to be contained around this area.”

Cailan looked at Loghain, his expression radiating smugness. He didn’t need to say ‘I told you so.’ His expression screamed it and everyone heard it. Loghain, however, was focused. “Numbers?”

“Couldn’t say. Four, maybe five thousand?” Another man spoke. Another Arl. Leonas Bryland was a man in his mid-forties, but you wouldn’t think it by looking at him. Not a trace of grey to be found in his reddish-brown hair except for at the temples. I wouldn’t put him a day over thirty if I didn’t know any better. Loghain made a dismissive sound.

“I hardly think that counts as a horde,” he remarked, his gaze sliding to the Grey Wardens at the table -- Gregior was the Warden Constable, meaning he was in charge when Duncan was recruiting around the country. The tall human said nothing, simply meeting his gaze before one of the dwarven wardens scoffed.

“That’s because most of them are still in the deep roads. Word from Orzammar is that they’re hardly seeing darkspawn at all. Planning to raid some old Thaigs because of it. We have half our numbers scouting the deep roads and all signs point to them heading south. Here.”

Cailan looked dazzled, “The dwarven empire stretched all the way down here? Into the wilds?” He questioned, earning a shrug from the dwarf.

“As far as we could tell. This might have been the end of the world as far as Tevinter was concerned, but Orzammar was the heart of our empire a sodding long time ago.”

Gregior spoke up, “And if they don’t surface, darkspawn dig, your majesty. Why they chose to surface here, I can’t say -- it could be a strategy of the Archdemon, or it could be mere circumstance. The point being, for every one darkspawn that we see on the surface, there will be three below our feet, waiting to emerge.”

Dire news. If that were true, then we were outnumbered four times over.

“If that’s true, we’ll be overrun. Ostagar is a defensible position despite being a ruin. In any case, we must send for reinforcements,” Loghain remarked, a deep frown in his voice. He seemed doubtful, but even if he didn’t believe what the Grey Wardens said, we were either evenly matched or outnumbered by the darkspawn. “Redcliff is in a position to provide troops. It would be optimal to send a missive to the Circle asking for mages. The taint kills soldiers as well as darkspawn -- with their healers and battlemages, we can avoid unnecessary losses.”

Cailan was taken with it, “A glorious idea!” He decided, nodding at a runner that just about barreled over me to send the letter. I saw that Loghain wasn’t afraid of mages. That might change when he realized I was looking over his shoulder, completely invisible. The map they were working with was a poor one, I decided. “This is the time to put aside old prejudices and unite against a common enemy. To that end, I have received word from Orlais -- the Grey Wardens are mustering and they’re accompanied by four legions of Chevaliers.”

Wow. Here I thought Ferelden would go down swinging. Turns out the king was just going to open the door for them.

“No,” Loghain uttered, his eyes alive… alive with hate. The same kind of hate that I saw in my own eyes every time I looked in a mirror. The kind of hate that had changed him deeply and profoundly. “I will accept the Wardens, loathe that I am, but if they come attached with chevaliers then they can stay on their side of the border. The lot of them.”

“My lord-” Gregior started, only to cut himself off when Loghain looked at him.

“Be silent. Don’t take me for a fool. We let the Orlesians in and they’ll never leave. Oh but  I’m sure they’ll fight the darkspawn plenty. They wouldn’t want anything to happen to their newly reconquered territory,” Loghain spat with venom. Cailan looked thoroughly displeased at that, looking to the others at the table, expecting to be supported, but was disappointed when he saw that he was surrounded by veterans of the Orlesian occupation. “Twenty thousand chevaliers? For five thousand darkspawn that we know of? With no sight of an Archdemon or any sign that this is actually a Blight? So much for Orlesian subtlety.”

Upon seeing that the Grey Wardens were his only ally in the matter, Calian rather wisely decided to accept that. “Very well. They shall remain in Orlais… until we have evidence that this is a true Blight. Should it be, I will not have Ferelden overrun with darkspawn for decades on end.” The Grey Wardens seemed pained, but they offered nothing in response and the arls let the king have the last word.

“Good. Now-” Cailan started, only to be interrupted by a runner that dove into the command room, his face dripping with sweat.

“My lords! It’s the darkspawn! They’re attacking!” He shouted and, nearly instantly, everyone in the room began to move.

Looks like I would be getting my first taste of war.