---

The halls of Weisshaupt bustled, the Wardens had suffered and triumphed through the Mage-Templar war hundreds of Mages and Templars had flocked to their banners when they had declared themselves neutral to all who would join. Such a recent Blight meant their stores of Archdemon blood were high and The Joinings were conducted near monthly. The high dark stone walls were being cleaned up and being touched up, new banners hung as accompanied by representatives of the Chantry, Ferelden, and Orlais. Their wagons and horses slowly trundled towards high steel gates as they heard a screech like an eagle the guards reached for weapons, as a blur of feathers and fur shot over their heads braced against the grey of the sky, its shadow cast upon them for a moment like a drake about to swoop upon them. As they craned their heads several guards reached for bows as they heard a screech and landing next to them was something out of a storybook, or so the ambassadors had thought a griffon armored in plate astride it's back a Grey Warden in full plate armor resting his hand on a great sword sat across his lap in the saddle. The blues of the cloth and the shining griffon emblem made him look more like myth than a man. His armor dented and damaged, yet pristine in cleanliness and maintenance.

Looking over the caravan green eyes behind the slitted helmet, a nervousness among the templars, chevaliers, and knights who looked upon the beast and its rider before them, as eagle eyes of the mount moved between each soldier before them. As again and again more descended, four riders now looked at them all, then with a solemn nodded pointed for them to move onwards, before the beast's wings beat and they rose into the air again, circling up the mountain to ready the gates for the last of their visitors.

Jutting out from the wall upon the tower was the mausoleum of the Heroes, a small sanctuary where the remains of the Heroes who gave their lives slaying an Archdemon are left to rest. In most cases only their weapons and armor are placed here, as their bodies did not survive the battle. Each one has had a statue built in their likeness, the statues of Garahel and Corin were freshly cleaned. The one of Theron carved by the finest dwarven stone masons, his coffin however, remained empty.

Weisshaupt's gates were slowly opened, as the last representatives entered, the representatives could only awe at the size of the grand fortress even larger than the Inquisition's Skyhold she'd heard tales of its dilapidation yet now repairs and restoration were underway. As they dismounted from the carts the courtyard they saw the head of Urthemiel mounted in the keep as Wardens and laborers came to care for the horses, the climb up the Broken Tooth mountain was near vertical at some points, the beasts would be exhausted. The reforms and resurgence of the Order had been seen to assist some of the chapters aboard yet... As they joined the delegates from Antiva, Rivain, Free Marches, and Nevarra they saw exactly how much had changed.

One room hosted an entire class of mages, watching a demonstration by a senior mage warden showing off new magical research and weakening the Blight’s grip on plant life they brought in. Other mages practiced combat spells or ritual castings as a group to increase potency of their magic. Further down, rangers and rogues sparred and tested out new alchemical formulas for bombs, grenades, and even practiced disarming traps and cracking through locks. Many of which were of dwarven make, others chatted trading skills in negotiations and how best breach enemy fortifications. Knights and warriors further down tested armor and locked blades, testing their skills and practicing their parries. These armored wardens even practiced takedowns and fisticuffs, learning to bear the brunt of their armor’s weight but remain mobile in it. Many of their armoring practices came from the dwarves who had long ago mastered the construction of plate and mail and shared their new rediscoveries freely with their most honored allies.

Above them in the aeries and rookery, once empty and with memorials for the fallen friends, now the griffons of the Wardens fill this lofty stable. With each griffon choosing its partner as they grow and bond with their Warden. Eggs are often kept with the mothers, though in some cases given to a warden to watch over if the mother does poorly in maintaining her eggs. Nearby many humans and some elves gather at the small chapel as the priests and priestesses give rights, now nearby a small altar with statues of the Paragons and an elves had a garden with the symbols of their pantheon arranged. On the farside of the fortress was the forges, filled with surface dwarf smiths, humans tanners, and elven bowyers worked to arm and prepare weapons, even some tranquil worked enchanting and assisting most taken in during the Mage-Templar war and kept for their safety. While many were unaware below the fortress blood and blight magic research continued with Avernus leading the charge to one day improve the Joining and perhaps keep Calling away for good.

Yet for the visitors from across Thedas the movements and sheer size of the fortress and its substantial changes from the crumbling ruin it was once before shocked them. Thousands of Wardens here alone and they knew more were across the nation helping manage and defend it, it was no wonder that Anderfels under Warden rule had been more prosperous. Yet the keen would catch that many Wardens here came from beyond the Anderfels... Something else other than their meeting was going.

As slowly they were led into the great hall, where the First Warden and several of the ranking warden's waited along with ambassadors from every nation of Thedas sat. Though the Chantry's presence was merely a formality, extended by the graciousness of the grey wardens. The Ancient round table was laid out, with each chair of representative draped with their symbol as all around them a silver banner of wardens hung, now with the symbol of the Anderfels hung alongside it.

It was silent until the Antivan representative broke the silence. "Well... Let's start this meeting by stating the obvious. It was high time someone did something about Anderfell's... While the Hossberg line of the family has ended we should be able to locate-" The first warden raised a hand to stop her. Slowly first warden Wilhelm stood, looking over the crowd of assembled dignitaries. "The grey wardens will rule the Anderfels. We already protect most of the nation, the people have more need of us than any of the nobility, a Darkspawn beset nation needs those who know how to handle Darkspawn at their forefront. It will not only expand our recruitment but give us a way to directly expand our order... We can focus on finding ways not only to combat the Blight but attempt to undo its damages..." It was the Orlesian diplomat who leapt to his feet, the Count jabbing a finger forward, insulted by the sheer idea of toppling divine right of rulership.

"That makes you what?! King Warden Wilhelm? King and first warden!? Outrageous you cannot rule and govern while claiming to put the good of the world first. Are you even nobility?! An Elf could even hold your position unless you plan to make it hereditary! Not only that but if a dwarf or Qunari took the post! You would be a nation without the chant as your code!?" At that Wilhelm smiled slowly, darkly looking them over, catching a moment where he could press back before others claimed against him.

"So the Hero of Ferelden and his Wardens will be ejected from the rulership of the Amaranthine?" When the Orlesian Count heard what his argument sounded like he suddenly went silent, they had precedent for Wardens governing and still maintaining the Order now. Ferelden had given it to them, this time their hand had been forced, the people would rebel if they tried to remove the Wardens from Anderfels, their fortress was near unassailable and now? The griffon's stabled on high and thousands of Wardens they had... This was an Order resurgent, perhaps it had been covered by the distance of the Anderfels from the chaos of the last few years or how the Wardens faded away from notice when the Blights ended. They could stand and argue for a throne not their own, in a land besieged year round by a people who loved two things the Chantry and their heroic Grey Wardens or they could let this happen. "It has happened before only now on a grander scale. We are beholden to no church, no king, or nation. Our duty must be to protect the population of all of Thedas from Darkspawn, this nation is under constant assault by them, their king and nobles raised no hand to stop it. They have always put that burden on us, so perhaps it’s time we reaped the reward of defending a nation against the greatest threat in the world.”

Ferelden and Orlais nobles along with the representatives from the Free Marches called for a recess to these meetings. To discuss how to respond to this new proposed plan of action, that surprised many. Though without Tevinter and Qunari present it would be interesting, as the Anderfels did host a single Qunari colony. While the Wardens had run the region well in the absence of a monarch they did not seem to tolerate the corruption that most other nations allowed to help grease the wheels of and motions of government. A militant order and a meritocratic one at that would be problematic in showing lower classes that kings may not be needed in leading them.

As they ushered the diplomats and officials along with their staff to rooms or helped them find space. The warden’s who had been arriving for days began to fill the courtyard, hundreds of them at least more than most had ever seen in one place. As the first warden busied himself with meetings, the High Constable would soon speak. For now at least, wardens from outside Weisshaupt were gathering as ones from it helped show them around the massive fortress, the place could host an army ten thousand strong... And for the first in a long time it looked like it might have that many people.

---

Cadmus Laenas arrived in Anderfels along with his fellow Tevinter wardens in high spirits. For a few months, since the Venatori exiled them from Tevinter, they had scattered to the winds. It was decided by the Warden-Commander that the Tevinter wardens split up to bolster the ranks of Grey Wardens in various nations. Cadmus had been part of the wardens who had been sent to Orlais, as they had need of more experienced warden mages, still had not fully recovered from many experienced mages among their ranks who ended up dead or became abominations after the reckless blood magic ritual they attempted back in 9:41 Dragon under Corypheus' influence. Needless to say, mages were reluctant to join the Orlesian Grey Warden after the entire fiasco. Of course, in turn, the Orlesian wardens were also reluctant to trust the Tevinter wardens, which led to a less-than-stellar experience that soured the mood of the Tevinter wardens further.

It was, to Cadmus, a perfect exemplification of how backwater the Southerners were. Truly, to think that many still thought of the Imperium as a monolith, and not just any monolith, but a monolith of whom the template was the Venatori. Had they not realized they were exiled by the Venatori? No, of course, not rather than trusting and giving the benefit of the doubt to their fellow wardens, much easier to believe in the baseless conspiracy of the Venatori exiling the Tevinter wardens as a plot to corrupt the wardens from the inside as they join other Grey Warden chapters.

Absurd. Completely absurd. Within the Grey Wardens, no one hated the Venatori more than the Tevinter wardens, having been unceremoniously exiled from their home. Though Cadmus in particular was more disappointed in the Tevinter ruling class. The Venatori acting delusional and stupid was to be expected, it was the Venatori, no sane lot among those people, Cadmus reckoned. But the ruling class who folded to the Venatori? Cadmus' expectations of them were already low in the first place, but he supposed there was no limit to the stupidity of those in power in Tevinter. The Qun was a threat, but was having the Venatori delusional philosophy the best the Imperium could do?

Cadmus understood that the Qunari was a threat, a big threat, Cadmus would rather support just about everyone over the Qunari. Heck, if the rumour of intelligent Darkspawns that was spread by his fellow wardens were true, and he had to choose between them and the Qun, Cadmus have to think about it. But accepting the Venatori in lieu of the Imperium's military failures during the Antaam rebellion was ridiculous. For one, for all their bluster had they ever done anything at all without the presence of the ancient Magister-turned-Darkspawn Corypheus? No, they had not. Not a shred of accomplishment to their name without the anomaly that was Corypheus, no proof of their competence whatsoever. Second, the Imperium had spent years trying to warn the rest of Thedas of the danger the Qun posed in the hope they could join together to put an end to them once and for all, finishing the job of the Exalted Marches against the Qunari. From a pragmatic standpoint, did we want to burn bridges by embracing Tevinter Supremacist now? Exactly when we were losing against the Qunari?

The Tevinter wardens, including Cadmus, when seeing the Venatori rising to power once more, thought it nothing more than some political manoeuvre. Surely, they were just a tool being used by the opposition to the Magister Pavus-backed reformist faction, the Lucerni. Surely, the Archon was still in control. But no, it turned out they were not in control. Perhaps that was how it started but it ended with the Venatori subverting that entire conservative faction among the Magisterium, with many among its members actually believing in the Venatori delusion to the point the Lucerni faction was struggling just to maintain some semblance of power.

It was the height of lunacy. An absurd marriage between peak idiocy and delusional nationalism.

And so, when the news came that the First Warden and the rest of Anderfel wardens overthrew the King of Hossberg and assumed control, it was news welcomed by the Tevinter wardens, including Cadmus. To them, who had been screwed over by corrupt rulers of the nation they were based in, what happened in Anderfel felt cathartic, many even hoped for the Tevinter rulership that was now under the Venatori's influence to be the next one toppled. Of course, Cadmus was realistic enough to know that it was unlikely that would happen, considering the political fallout and the amount of force needed to topple the Imperium. Not unless it was absolutely necessary. Anderfels was the home base of the Grey Warden, and thus, Cadmus could see how the First Warden came to the conclusion that it needed to be done. Tevinter Imperium, while a major player in Thedas was not heavily tied to the wardens or their duty for the most part, and until that change, Cadmus saw no chance of the First Warden taking the fight to the Imperium, nor would Cadmus advocate for it.

Still...the fact that the wardens now assumed leadership meant that, contrary to tradition, possibly the wardens were about to take a more active role in Thedas' politics. Directly taking the fight to the Imperium was out of the question, but exerting political pressure for their exile of the wardens? Very feasible. Cadmus had always thought that the wardens should take a more active role in politics because whether they liked it or not, they held some influence. An influence that those in the upper echelon of political elites would attempt to either mitigate or use for their own means. Look no further than the politically motivated opposition to Grey Warden forces by Ferelden during the Fifth Blight. Therefore, if politics were coming to them anyway, might as well be a player rather than a pawn. And so, like the rest of the Tevinter wardens, Cadmus answered the call to Weisshaupt gladly, seeing it as a promising new direction for the wardens. A sentiment that seemed to be proven correct, as upon arrival, they were greeted with the sight of Griffons, flying up high, the gleaming jewel of the reforms made by the First Warden.

Once settled, like many warden mages, Cadmus was invited to the workshop for a demonstration of new magic developed by the wardens to counteract the effect of the Blight. Cadmus had heard rumours of the development of such magic to mitigate the Darkspawn taint through the grapevine, but since he had only joined 4 years ago, he had not been able to offer his—that he thought to be, at least—valuable expertise. Nevertheless, when Cadmus saw the demonstration made on a blighted plant, he had to admit he was impressed. It was clearly still quite early in its development, or at least that was the extent they were showing, but Cadmus was sure that this was a very promising avenue to be pursued. The applications were numerous if they were able to remove the taint from a plant, what about animals? And most of all, what about humans? The Darkspawn taint was incurable except for the joining...was the conventional wisdom, until now. Even outside the Blight, Darkspawn taint still posed a danger, and the fact that the wardens might be the ones who had the cure—one that did not involve joining—could make for a decent leverage. Especially for the Dwarves who now might be able to more aggressively retook the Deep Roads with less fear of dying from the taint.

But furthermore, what it represented for the wardens themselves was massive. Cadmus was sure that the elephant in the room was 'Can the Calling be forestalled or even cured?'. While the Darkspawn taint was a valuable tool as a warden, it came with the daunting reality of the Calling, but with this new magic...would it be possible, then, to have the taint be removed from Wardens whose body could no longer endure it? To simply retire instead of going to the Deep Roads to die? If it was possible, then Cadmus was of the opinion that it should definitely be pursued. While having the inevitability of the Calling looming over the wardens was not without merit, resulting in soldiers who were more willing to sacrifice themselves in the line of duty, such fatalism also came with its demerit, namely wardens being too susceptible to reckless self-sacrificing schemes in a massive waste of resources. Again, Cadmus would point to the entire Orlesian Warden debacle under Corypheus. Not to mention several other issues such as poor recruitment prospects and whatnot. To Cadmus, the demerit outweighed the merits, and so if that tradition could be eradicated, it would be for the better.

As the demonstration finally ended, Cadmus refrained himself from simply giving his own remark of what he thought was faulty or could do with some improvement. He might not be able to resist when he was younger, but with age, came wisdom. Namely, the wisdom that generally, no one liked to be lectured in their own lecture. So it would be best to save his critique and remarks later on private where they might be more receptive. And so, Cadmus clapped politely and congratulated the mage giving the demonstration before leaving the room. He would seek an audience later, with permission from the senior wardens here. For now, he had an address from the High Constable to attend in the courtyard.

While Cadmus was walking to the courtyard, admiring the historied halls of Weisshaupt Fortress, his mind turned to the meetings he had heard the First Warden was holding with diplomats from various nations. He was nowhere near the position of those who would be privy to the content of said meeting, but he could surmise a guess. No doubt it was about the Grey Warden assuming leadership of Anderfels. There had been a precedent in Ferelden's Amaranthine, but that was that and this was this. It was one thing to give land to a celebrated hero who ended a blight, it was another thing to let the Grey Warden control an entire nation. He hoped the First Warden could navigate the political landmines gracefully and not rush for short-term gain. While Cadmus thought that taking a hard stance and acquiescing little to none of their demands was possible, he did not think that was ideal in the long term. It would make too many enemies. And, as someone who also had rushed too quickly and made too many enemies in his own political career, Cadmus could speak from first-hand experience that such an approach was unsustainable and would backfire.

'I hope the First Warden is wise enough to tread lightly here,' Cadmus thought as he joined the rest of the wardens in the courtyard to hear what the High Constable had to say.

Morning came early, the sun had barely broken against the horizon, but Shiathari awoke eagerly. The small room she had been allotted was a courtesy, one all to herself, though she expected it was more to do with the complaints from others regarding her animal infirmary. It didn’t seem to bother her guest, the man snored softly next to her, undisturbed at such an early hour or by her movements. She sighed, a mix of annoyance and playfulness, as she nudged him.

“You need to leave, before the others see you.”

Perhaps the fraternization of two wardens who had survived their joining together and had travelled for years together before returning to the fortress would be understood. Shiathari was certain their senior warden had known and turned a blind eye to it. Still, discretion was best. Her request was met with a slightly louder snore.

She nudged him harder, enough to lift his shoulder from the cot. “And I have to get dressed for the stables.” The elf slapped lightly at his chest as she threw one leg over him and then to the floor. “Honestly, how are you still so impossible?”

That earned one eye opening and glaring at her. “One day, you’ll let me sleep in.” His voice rumbled, crusted with the remnants of sleep.

She only responded with a quick shake of her head as she ran her hands through long locks of hair, braiding them quickly into something manageable. Shia turned from him and pulled herself together in a tunic and leggings, leather boots, and her satchel.

The man behind her stood at last and approached her from behind, his frame hulking over hers. “See you tonight?” Same as always, his tone was casual, but she knew the eagerness there.

“Edrick” She shrugged out of his embrace with a judgemental glance. “Playing with fire if we do that. But…I’ll see you at dinner, okay?” She didn’t wait a beat for his response. “Now, go.”

It was just a small collection of injured things in her room at the moment. She’d released a nest of fledglings the week before, just in time for the little kits to have opened their eyes and start being mischievous. She had moved them to the kennels, one of the mabari bitches had been convinced that the little ones were her own and was raising them after losing hers. She had little to take care of before she went to see to her actual duties now that her companion had left.

The stables were a fair hike from her room, but it was quiet still this time of the day. Noises of the fortress waking beyond the steady rhythm of the night watch only just began as she reached the stables that housed the famed griffons. She clucked to them as she passed their stalls, each their own personality and quirks. Some were still sleepily awaking, their beaked maws opened wide with grunting yawns. Others, much like Shia herself, were eagerly awake looking for their breakfast or rider. Other stable hands came in, not a lowly job the same as mucking out horse stalls, the griffins were majestic creatures, but dangerous, independent in who they chose to allow near them. Her and the others had been chosen for how well the griffons took to them, not the other way around, much the same as how riders were chosen.

She worked through the morning with a quick break to eat a hearty lunch. She joined a small group of the others, a mix of humans and elves. They chatted quietly, went over anything unusual or amusing that their charges had gotten into, and then separated back to their duties. Shiathari spent the rest of the afternoon with the youngest of the griffons. Only a couple feet long, their adult plumage not fully come in. Play was just as important as anything else and she enjoyed taking them out to the pens to get in a good round of play hunting and training. They were not large enough to carry a rider, but they would be soon and so they bore the small training saddles to get them used to the feeling, even before they could fully fly.

As the afternoon ended and she knew it’d be time to clean up for dinner and the address they had all been called in for, she chose one final griffon to bid farewell to for the day. He was her personal favorite, a griffon that she swore would be a sarcastic bastard if he could speak. He’d not yet picked a rider, and had turned his beak up to the many potentials he had met. That at least was the good outcome, more than one warden had received a hard nip or wing slap.

Shia approached his stall, she’d heard him stamping about impatiently before she could even see the doors. “Tsk, tsk, little Quill.” He made a sound that she was certain was full of profanities for how late it was. “Don’t worry that big dumb head of yours, I have your favorite.” She pulled a freshly dressed hare out from behind her back and swung it lightly in front of him. “Be good for it now.”

Quill stomped a bit more, his head swinging from side to side. A shrieking huff carried down the stables but Shia held firm. “This is why no one likes you…except for me, little bastard.” His feathers ruffled up with another huff, but he cocked his head at her, an intelligent eye holding her firm in its gaze. The griffon’s feathers smoothed and he politely sat, with just one final annoyed rumble from its throat. “That’s a good boy.”

The elf opened his stall door and entered. She ran her fingers through the feathers at the side of his head and felt his head press into her. She murmured a few more words before backing far enough away to toss the hare into the air. Quill barely needed to move to snatch it with one crunch. “Only had the one today, my friend.” He nudged his head into her abdomen, hard enough that she lost her footing for just a moment. “Still only had the one.” She chided him softly with a chuckle. “And now I have to go see what the first warden has in store for us.”

Shia gave the creature a final half hug as it nuzzled into her. She locked the stall and headed to the baths to rinse away the dust and grime. She hadn't put on the regalia in some time, not since her last official outing months ago. She'd freshly polished the metal, treated the leather, and brushed the cloth out til it looked near enough to new. It wasn't her favorite duty, and though she was far off from being a senior warden, she still felt the weight of wanting to prove herself. Even if it had been ages since someone called her girl and told her to fetch some trivial thing. With the fortress grown more crowded from visiting dignitaries and their staff, she did not want to take the chance.

She was ready, she thought, for whatever the First Warden needed of her.

The view from atop one of the battlements lent itself to the area. Having traveled no farther than an Orlesian city, it was easy to assume that the world was just full of towns with huge monuments dedicated to the wealthy elite who purchased and set them up as if to say "Look at me with all my money. Instead of feeding the hungry or housing the poor, I allocated my funds to building a statue because I have a small dick."

Colette scoffed at her own thought. Never would she have imagined that she would be amongst a team, let alone the Grey Wardens of yore. She had heard tales growing up as many others have. She was not one for heroic stories of epic battles facing off against oppressive forces, even ones based in reality. She always assumed the hype of the Grey Wardens was to bolster their reputation, but even in recent times she had grown to be less wary if they were telling the truth or not.

And now she found herself amongst their ranks. She was relatively new to them so many still gave her a wide berth. It wasn't like she opened herself up to allies or friends. She still remembered in the early weeks of her time when another member, some upstart braggart thought because he could hold a sword the right way up and survived his own joining meant he was better than others. She knew the Grey Wardens took all matters of people in but surely there was still a vetting process. The man had taken one look at her and had assumed, wrongfully, that she was there for entertainment. He came up to her with flowery words and a wandering hand. He left with neither her name nor the use of his sword hand for weeks. She had been chastised, but not fully punished as others who witnessed him stood up for her. She thought at the time they wanted something in return, possibly the same something the braggy man wanted, but they did not.

She remembered that day and considered it the first time she respected the Grey Wardens. Even before she was grabbed before death was serviced to her she didn't feel she owed them anything. No one cared of she lived or died, certainly not herself, so this random man who came up to her and saved her was an anomaly. One she wanted to figure out.

She stood up against the edge and looked down. She saw many others milling about and heard the sounds of people working and talking and gossiping. She figured it would be sooner rather than later that she would be called upon. She hopped down and made her way down to the courtyard.

Once there she looked. Some warriors were practicing their techniques. Some rogues showing off their skills. Mages of all sorts learn magical theories and spellwork. It was a sight to see. And yet, she felt no yearning to join them. She knew her skills were good. Hell, they were great. She was not worried about her ability to pick a lock or remain unseen. She was not worried she would falter when convincing a target to lower their guard or to slit the throat of said unsuspecting person. ]

She felt something move behind her and she quickly grabbed the wrist of a young woman. She yelped in surprise. "Sorry missus, didn't mean to..to scare you, though truth be told you gave me more of a fright than I ever could you." The woman attempted jokes which earned her some modicum of respect in Colette's eyes. She let her go and turned to face her. "Why were you reaching for me?"

The young woman quickly dusted herself off and bowed a bit. "Again, sorry missus. I was tasked with finding a person who could help us out of a spot of trouble. The kitchen pantry doors got busted and is locked and no one can enter. We are preparing meals for the troops, you see, and we really need to get in there. I don't suppose you could help us out please missus?" The woman spoke quickly and plainly and Colette had to admit it was trouble understanding her. And if she were being honest with herself, Colette did look like 'the type' with her hood over her head. "Lead the way." The woman smiled and turned, running towards the kitchen, presumably. Colette quickly followed.

It was only then that Colette noticed the woman was an elf. Her hair covered her ears when they first met but as she run, she noticed them poking out. Colette was not one to judge the other races specifically for that alone. She considered all people of this world to be worthy of judgement and mistrust regardless of what race they were born as.

Soon they came upon the kitchen. The woman ran inside and Colette quickly slid in past the closing door. "What's this then?" she heard a rather bolstered voice. The person who called out was a large, intimidating older woman with gray hair. Despite her age she was built strong and looked like she could take down an army of darkspawn. The elven woman was small in comparison. "I found a person to help us." The large woman looked over to Colette and looked back at the elf. "I asked you to find a Grey Warden girl, not some pretty courtesan!" The older woman raised her hand and smacked the elf's face with an audible clack. The elf fell to the ground and held back a sob. Colette moved forward, "She's telling the truth. I can get your door unlocked." The older woman looked back at her and scoffed. "If you get that door unlocked pretty, I'll eat my shoes."

Never one to back down from confrontation of any sort, Colette moved to the door. A quick examine of it showed it was indeed broken. Though it looked like someone did it intentionally from a cursory glance. Colette pulled out her lockpicks and got to work. She would never admit it, but this was one of her favorite things to do. How easy it was to slide the lockpick in and listen for the subtle clicks of the lock as you moved it. Soon, she was done, and she swung the door open.

"I believe this is the part where you eat your shoes."

The older woman looked aghast and the elf woman stood up with a smile despite the red mark on her cheek. It seemed she enjoyed seeing her boss put in her place. "Lucky shot. Go, we need to get the food going. And you, girl, don't stand there smiling. Get back to work!" The older woman raised her hand again but couldn't move it as Colette had grabbed her wrist and brought it behind her. "What is this! Get off of me you slag!"

"If you raise a hand to her or anyone else in your kitchen I will be sure to find you where you sleep and cut off your hand so you can never harm anyone again. And I'll make it look like you did it yourself. No one would believe you."

The older woman also was not one to back down. "My staff just heard you. They'll have my back." She glanced around the room and saw that no one was looking at her. Instead they were all working, head bowed down, pretending what was happening was not happening. "Seems they do not. And I trust any of them to come find me should you do so. Treat them kindly. Treat them with respect. Or you will have nothing to do but sit around and waste air." Colette let go and turned, leaving the kitchen.

She would probably hear about that later, but as far as she was concerned, she did her job as a Grey Warden, because surely that woman was a darkspawn in disguise.

This world is so different then back home. His thoughts since becoming a Grey Warden and entering Weisshaupt Fortress a month ago. Traveling to the Anderfels from the Frostback Mountains was a long and eye-opening trip. There were so many people and cultures that he had never heard of and magic he had not seen. The different customs and beliefs are a sharp contrast to the life he lived with his people, the Avvars. But, like everything in the Frostbacks, change happens no matter what, and he has changed since coming to Weisshaupt Fortress a month ago and becoming a Grey Warden.

Though while he would eagerly share some of his people's beliefs to educate others. Kodran knows that something that the Avvars do is considered backward but, more importantly, dangerous. So he has kept to himself since arriving and has talked somewhat to his fellow Grey Wardens but never really talked about his people or his past, even though his attire is a clear indicator of his tribal background before he was made to swap his clothes for Grey Warden mage attire. Normally, this sparks questions as to why a tribal is here, but with the Grey Wardens, Those questions are rarely asked.

Still, Kodran has not been idle during his time here or most of his time. He has been with the Warden mages and their experiments with the Blight, and he is happy with their progress with plant life. Once they figured out how to cleanse plant life from the Blight, then it would only be a matter of time before animals and even people could be cured of the Blight. Maybe he could see those Blight Lands back in the Korcari Wilds purified and alive again.

Though he tried not to be a nuisance and get in their way but he still asked questions about their research. Some of them would surprised by how much an Avvar knows about the Blight. Those Orlesian books came in handy, and Kodran was eager to learn more about their research. But after a time, he realized that he should go and bother someone else, and so he left and explored the fortress.

During which he would again think about how alone he was. While yes, he was a Grey Warden with other Wardens at their headquarters at Weisshaupt Fortress. Kodran was the only Avvar Warden, and it showed. There was no one like him at Weisshaupt, and he was hesitant to talk to others because of maybe saying something about Avvar culture that would cause a situation. Especially anything related to his knowledge of spirits and how he was taught about magic. That kept him alone for the most part, barring some talk he had with mages and other Wardens.

But, the stuff he heard, on the other hand, did interest him. The most interesting part was the talk about who was going to take control of the Anderfels now that the last king was dead. Kodran knew that diplomats from other nations were here to discuss the issue. Since he was only a Warden for a month, he did not try to guess who would be the new ruler of these lands. That and politics were not for him, and he is inexperienced when it comes to matters like this. Things in the Frostback Mountains were clearer to him than how the rest of the world handled their affairs.

Now, he finds himself in the courtyard as other Wardens were gathering there to hear what High Constable was going to say. Kodran does not know what they may say, but even though he is still new to the Wardens. He will do what is needed for them to succeed and to realize his dream of those lands blighted by the Darkspawn being purified. Whatever it takes, he thought, whatever it takes.

Weisshaupt Fortress and those who inhabited it were more than a mystery to Tae'ren. Many conflicting backgrounds and ideals all coming together via a common enemy... he had to admit, if Shemlen were good at anything it was making everyone get along by being angry at the same thing. He perched on a roof at the edge of the courtyard, his avian shape giving him the privacy he found he suddenly lacked since joining the Grey Wardens. At the edge of his vision he spotted the other warden, a Shem mage barely older than Tae'ren himself who had seemed to make it his goal to annoy Tae'ren into teaching him shapeshifting. Despite having agreed to attempt to teach other warden mages his talent, eagerness did not always translate into the capability to learn... and the fact the potential student seemed to know less about animals than a city elf certainly didn't help.

He watched the undaunted Shem amble about the courtyard a moment, making suspicious eyes at every stray bird or scrambling rodent that happened to be within view. As he vanished beyond sight Tae'ren took flight, gliding down into the courtyard and landing at it's edge, his form blurring as the fade wrapped him in it's embrace, blurring and shifting his form, returning him to normal with no sign of his former shape save the slowly drifting feather that he quickly snatched from the air and slid between a gap in the strips of his leather armor.

Tae'ren didn't like the assigned warden armor, and regardless of who came to him he wouldn't wear it, but he made his own additions to his normal attire to satiate most who might complain. The Warden sigil had been marked with a hot iron onto a bare section of leather just above his heart, extremely noticeable as that was one of the only remaining sections where deep grey fur was still visible from beneath overlapping cross sections of thicker leather.

As a shapeshifter, many things tended to drift his way, and knowledge tended to be a bit easier to come by than one might expect. While Shemlen politics didn't really interest him, it was fairly amusing to hear the trouble caused by The Grey Warden's presence here, and what that might imply, and later cause. Perhaps the Shemlen would kill themselves out faster than anticipated, then again if that happened before the Darkspawn issue were fixed it might actually prove troublesome... no, better that he let the Shemlen do that other thing they were somehow good at, and unite Thedas against a common enemy... at least before they go to war with themselves again.

---

It had grown into a larger turnout than he had expected.

The diplomats and entourages of Thedas had all come from their palaces of ivory and keeps of stone, and he had expected to see an influx of newcomers both great and small. The courtyard was nearly filled to its edges with wardens, and he was entirely certain that they would continue to trickle in as the day progressed.

Rannon had been in the Anderfells since he had become a Grey Warden, those handful of years ago. It had been grueling, and unforgiving. The training was without a doubt beyond anything he had expected, and even fighting darkspawn in the heart of the Kokari Wilds was nothing compared to the regimen of Wardens in the Anderfells. Yet it was worth it, and it had kept him alive during every skirmish. Now, he dreamed of killing darkspawn, of spilling their blood and filling the oceans with it. He had been concerned about that, initially, but after speaking with a superior, he had learned the taint effected each warden in unique ways. This was his way of psyching himself up for more, and he never tired of it.

Rannon had not gotten too much sleep the night before, staying up late and playing cards with a few of his fellow wardens deep into the night. It had not been smart, but at least it was not before a large battle, and to his credit, Rannon had not touched a drop of alcohol. Plus, he had a very trustworthy wake-up call.

Rannon's constant companion sat at his feet, panting from the light heat of the sun. Gideon woke up at the crack of dawn every day and demanded Rannon do the same, ready to spring into training or play, whichever was on his master's schedule. The two of them looked much like one another. Both were large, muscled, and dangerous, yet neither of them were dangerous to anyone who did not deserve it. Gideon's paws were the size of fists, both forepaws planted on the flagstones as he sniffed the air and watched the newcomers walk by. A few stopped and commented on Gideon, some wanting to pet him while others were wary. Rannon never shied from letting anyone who wanted to, to give him a good scratch. Gideon was a slut for it, even though he was sometimes uneasy around strangers from distant lands.

"Harump!" Gideon barked sharply, wiggling slightly before gazing up at Rannon. The Mabari was nothing if not headstrong, and he usually made his wishes very clear. A few passersby flinched at the loud bark, but once they realized Gideon hadn't moved, they were calmed. The big Fereldan man looked down at his friend, and shook his head.

"Just be patient, I'll run you soon." He promised his Mabari, arms crossed. Rannon just gazed out from the wall he leaned on, content to wait. "Right now, orders are to stay here. You know that."

Constable Howe sighed and shook his head, “I am telling you this plan is foolish. I don’t see what you and the Commander do in this endeavor to stop the Blights before they begin.” There came a laugh from behind a flagon of ale. As Oghren, the messenger from Hero of Ferelden’s expedition, spoke up.

“It ain’t your call. The Warden Commander likes the new boss, especially since he’s got the balls to give the order some real staying power. Nothing like a nation to tax and rule over to motivate people to help ya’. ‘Hell, got Orzammar to start taking working with the Warden’s more seriously. Granted it could also be because Tevinter is going to hell in a nug basket.” Oghren spoke scratching his face as he looked over the maps of the deep roads, clearly most of the planning over his head. It was no wonder the Hero of Ferelden sent him to make the report. And to pick up supplies. It seemed the dwarf had a knack for surviving anything then beating whatever tried to kill him. The lack of Oghren’s unique smell made it easier for Theron to breath on the march no doubt.

Senior Warden Bethany Hawke glared from across the table at the dwarf. “Perhaps, but what the first warden is ordering could lead to hundreds of dead wardens! We don’t know how many Darkspawn are down below our feet. It could be millions, all we might do is throw lives away!” She placed a hand on her hip, she was here representing the Wardens of the Freemarches. How someone as prissy as her had impressed the Free Marches commander, Oghren would never know.

Dunek Rouka slammed a fist on the table. He was the head of the Warden’s forges, one of the few privy to their secrets without a full joining. His official rank would never be more than recruit yet he was still massively important to the functions of logistics. “‘Can’s’ and ‘if’s’ are nothing for us to worry about. What happens if the Darkspawn are left down there, spawning for all of time without anything challenging them?” He spoke, cowing the crowd of assembled planners into silence. “The dwarves kept their numbers down in a losing battle for centuries. Thaigs with armies as big as Orlais and as advanced as Tevinter overrun. And what the first warden is doing is something we have known for years. The horde keeps growing if we don’t find ways to weaken it.”

He stopped looking at all the representatives before him with a glare that spoke to the soul as turned towards the window. “When they run out of space below for their broods you’ll face what we have. All across your pretty open skies and fields - blighted and dying.” The forgemaster made it clear that this was as important to the survival of Thedas as killing Corypheus was. Unlike that however, few nations would put aside petty squabbles for a long term war against the Darkspawn. Many treated the blights like something that would come and go, not a long term threat.

The Archivist of the Grey, like Revanelas, was another recent promotion particularly for her experimentation in healing and Blight removal. She was young and a Dalish elf like he, Ashlea of clan Eolas but unlike Revanelas she had been with the Wardens longer through most of nearly ten years having arrived at seventeen. She had been a quick study and willing to push the limits as hard as she could among the mages here for results. She had become a favorite contemporary of Avernus. “Dunek is right. We have allies, magic, weapons, and soldiers. We need to press our advantage. Imagine how much less damage the Blights would do if we could heal the people or find ways to poison the taint itself. The dwarves need this to save their people. We need this to save the Order and prove our use outside of Blights. Thedas needs this if we are to one day be able to live without the threat of the world ending from beneath us. We might even save ourselves from the calling... The first generation of Warden’s to die of old age!”

Revanelas looked at the Deep Road maps supplied to them, then across the chosen wardens from across Thedas. “We follow our orders. A hundred warden’s will be broken into teams to explore what roads are still viable. Archivist Ashlea, you will head up the vanguard that will enter the deep roads at the contact point with the main body of forces to Kal-Sharok dwarves. The surface dwarves and Legion of Dead forces from Orzammar will arrive days after scouts enter. We will use dead drops and guide symbols to leave a map for you to follow as we make our way.” He took little markers placing them across the different branching paths to Kal-Sharok noting where each unit would go.

As they looked over it, Hawke spoke up. “Your unit... Isn’t moving towards Kal-Sharok.” Revanelas nodded. “Correct. We will be pursuing the secondary target...” He pushed the marker all the way forward, tapping on a fortress nearby. “This old dwarven fortress supposedly has surface access. The dwarves have disclosed that this fortress belonged to the kingdom of Darmallon, a great thaig made of gold veins. He wants us to search the ruins for anything to help locate it. The dwarves of Kal-Sharok and Orzammar have even cut a deal. To allow surface dwarves to settle it and end their exile. Our reward will be half the treasure they uncover within the hold... And twenty percent stake in the largest gold mine in Thedas into perpetuity.”

They stared a moment understanding how money they were talking. “That’s... More money than the Hossberg tax collector could find in a year.” Ashlea answered, and it seemed she was as surprised as the rest.

Oghren cheered and knocked back a mug of ale, clearly enthralled as constable Howe frowned, concerned if we were doing it out of greed. “Why would the order need so much money?”

“Because the warden commander will use the money to begin developing and purchasing land in and around current fortresses. The funding will also go to repairing and recruiting to fill our dormant and abandoned fortresses. Eventually he wants each nation's wardens to be able to run their own operations within the deep roads. To do that we need four things: reputation, influence, money, and manpower. Kill the archdemon before it rises? Repairs our reputation in the eyes of the public, we saved them a Blight.” He spoke with a sigh to how current operations were all bets on how to save a declining order.

“We're working on manpower, but the first warden is going to work on influence through politics here with us hopefully gaining control of the Anderfels. Our goal is to find and kill Archdemon for the main host... But the secondary objective is critical for long term survival, income. We find that golden thaig, we keep the order in enough gold to pay for the Anderfels and our upkeep. We are still in decline even if it doesn’t feel like griffons and the end of the corruption at the top doesn’t fix the fact that there are less than ten thousand Wardens across all of Thedas. This fortress alone was built to house that many.” He took a deep breath and picked up his helmet, settling it under an arm. “The first warden’s goal is continuous pressure on the darkspawn across Thedas, so we can uncover more about the threats we face. Get the lists we’ve made up for the pathfinder teams ready to be passed out. I’ve got to try and give a speech and not make a fool of myself.” They could hear the crowd outside growing as Revanelas pulled his helmet on, they grew anxious waiting no doubt, side effects of knowing the calling is coming you value the time you do have even more.

Archivist Ashlea picked up her staff and Forgemaster Rouka straightened his tunic. As the three took a deep breath heading out from the library into the courtyard. They stepped onto the balcony. He’d practiced this speech for weeks with the first warden. Yet now before the crowd his nerves spiked as his armor hands were placed upon the stone parapet he decided to remove his helmet to speak more clearly, looking down at faces new and friends of old. He raised his arms, then gave a mighty yell.

“Wardens! Might I have your ears, as you know we have called you all here. We are no strangers to war, to the Blight, to death, to sacrifice for Thedas. But we've been fighting for our very survival against inhuman, genocidal monsters, but it is a fight we cannot continue forever! Our order has found strength now, yes! But between the calling, deaths in the line of duty, and ignorance of the nations of Thedas, can we say in a hundred years there will be enough of us to stop the next Blight? To face the Magister’s Sidereal like Corypheus?! There could be as many as seven more Blights to go! We must strike them where they live! Bring the war to the Darkspawn! Slay them before they rise!” The murmurs filled the crowds, as they remembered the same was about to be attempted by the warden’s of Orlais once... Now here they stood telling them the same.

“Quiet!” The order barked out, to silence the assembled Wardens, hundreds of eyes fixed as the Forgemaster glared down any offender who refused to be quiet as he commanded the muscled dwarf nearly as wide as he was tall.

“Thank you Forgemaster.” Revanelas shouted once more telling them what they needed to hear to make this sink in. “We have found the prison of an old god! With the help of surface dwarves, Orzammar, and Kal Sharok what they are talking about is not simple assault but reclamation! More importantly the dwarves have put their full might behind us, we will not go alone! But we will go to where they live and where they breed, and we will destroy them. This is how we take the battle to the heart of the enemy. This is the day that we correct the course of Thedas’s history! This is the day we ensure the survival of all peoples, by our hands alone!”

“In war!” He shouted to the crowd as the Warden assembled praying they answered the call, this part had been the idea first warden to help motivate and excite the wardens before him

“Victory!” The cries came with accents from across Thedas joined in a chorus of defiance against disease and villains alike. Sound pounded on their shields or armor, mages clanged their staffs on stone, rogues lent their voices or rang their knives on stone or other blades.

“In peace!” Ashlea cried out next, lifting her staff to make the azure griffon symbol appear in the air above them. Letting the symbol hang there as she focused.

As she slammed her staff back down, the booming voices of the crowd grew even louder. Nearly five hundred wardens, even those most reserved among them, could find reason to cheer now. “Vigilance!” They shouted as proudly as they could.

Bursting through the illusion of the symbol a flight of three riders on full grown griffons swooped down before them. As the Forgemaster bellowed out the last part. “In Death!”

“Sacrifice!” The cries came out as even the leaders yelled it out, as the griffons landed.

The motivation and selling them on the plan was done, now he needed to tell them about it or at least how they would find out more. “Those of you selected for the Pathfinder teams will head to the meeting hall. The rest of you... I have it on good authority that the first warden has brought out the good stocks of all our guests. Go eat and drink your fill! Before the Ferelden diplomats drink it up!”

---

Gideon barked triumphantly, his barrel-shaped body slumped forward as his bent legs lowered his head to the ground, his wagging tail high in the air. He gave a great vertical leap, reaching Rannon’s eye level before he touched down again. Rannon smiled, but soothed his best friend and scratched him behind the ears.

“Alright, let’s go. But behave,” Rannon said to his Mabari, who gave a yawn to show he understood. Satisfied, Rannon set about making his way to the hall, determined to join the pathfinding team, Gideon walking briskly beside him. But after ten strides, he realized he was famished. Maybe swinging by the mess hall might be a good idea, since it was on the way. He did not wish to arrive late, but being distracted by hunger was not ideal either.

Cadmus walked away from the courtyard in a contemplative mood. After hearing the speech given by the High Constable, the mage found that he had mixed feelings regarding the whole thing. He definitely agreed with the whole retaking the Deep Roads part. For one, diplomatically speaking, it would earn them a lot of favour with the dwarves, and given that Grey Wardens and the Dwarves had longstanding relationship of mutual respect borne from dealing with the darkspawns, helping them reclaim their old glory of the Deep Roads was a surefire way of forging a strong and lasting formal alliance with the Dwarves. Strategically speaking, taking back the Deep Roads from the darkspawns also made sense, that meant they were pushing the darkspawns back and could establish outposts and forward operating bases right at the doorstep of the darkspawns.

The premise of a campaign to retake the Deep Roads and taking the fight to the darkspawns made sense. No, that was not the part of the plan Cadmus was worried about. He was worried about the allusion made by the Constable regarding ‘Slay them before they rise!’. Presumably ‘rise’ here referred to the Blight, so essentially, this would mean stopping the blight before it started. The question was how? The only way they knew of to stop the blight was to kill the archdemon, which followed that stopping a blight before it started meant killing an archdemon before it rose, which was…questionable. Cadmus did not disagree with the premise of the plan inherently, but considering how little they knew of the archdemons, it felt reckless to attempt slaying them while they slumbered. Cadmus would support finding out where they slumbered and establishing an outpost to observe them and perhaps attempt to find out if it was possible to safely kill them while they slumbered. But outright killing them? Cadmus hoped the higher ups had more information to work with than what was available to rank and file soldiers like him, otherwise, they were just rushing headlong recklessly, which was eerily somewhat reminiscent of the planned Deep Roads expedition by using demons courtesy of the Orlesian Wardens during the Corypheus fiasco.

Well, for now, he had better head to the pathfinding meeting. Unlike most of the wardens, having been selected as part of the pathfinding team, it didn’t seem like he would be able to fully partake in the feast. Feeling a bit parched, he took out his ritewine bottle. One of the good things about the Joining Ritual was the fact that the immunity also extent to alcohol, somewhat. Meaning that he would be able to drink some wine and keep a clear head for the meeting, as long as he didn’t go overboard. Cadmus shook his ritewine bottle, trying to measure how much alcohol was left. There was still some left, but it had been sort of his thing to never completely empty the bottle until the Calling, which meant, it was probably time to refill the bottle. He had the feeling he’d be busy in the upcoming days, so now was probably as best a time as any to refill his bottle.

Besides, it’s a feast. That’s when they serve the good wine.

And so, Cadmus headed to the dining hall, intending to quickly refill the bottle before heading to the meeting. He entered the dining hall finding wardens feasting and drinking, their morale high after the rousing speech. Spotting the wine barrel, Cadmus started making his way there.

“Pardon me. Apologies for cutting lines, brothers, but I have to join the pathfinding team briefing in a bit, and I’d like to refill my wine bottle beforehand. Terribly sorry, you know how it is,” he said as he tried to make his way over to the wine barrel through the wardens gathered there.

Still in high spirit, upon hearing Cadmus was part of the pathfinding team who essentially would spearhead the campaign, one of the wardens gave him a cheer, which was then followed by others, as they clapped Cadmus back, allowing him to pass through.

As Cadmus thought, being part of the pathfinding team seemed to come with its own perks. He wondered how the Southern wardens would react upon hearing he was a Tevinter mage who practiced blood magic, though. It would be rather entertaining to see their expression in some sort of ironic comedy.

Regardless, Cadmus made his way to the wine barrel, turned the knob, and refilled his ritewine bottle.

She had gone first to grab dinner, though with the meeting looming and her reticence at a drawn-out goodbye, Shiathari only briefly made an effort to find Edrick. A quick scan of the very full hall was sufficient enough to say that she had tried. She couldn’t really recall the last time it had felt this packed, this bustling, this loud.

She lightly picked her way through the perimeter of the hall, sliding between bodies of other wardens and their guests all the same. A bad habit returned, with the lithe ranger greedily gulping down the plate of food she had fixed herself, propped up against a wall, eyes keeping a careful eye on the crowd around her. Satiated, overly even, she deposited the plate - empty but for some streaks of gravy and crumbs - on the end of a table and made her way for a bit of wine to wash it down.

“Only a pardon for your brothers?” Shia chided, though it wasn’t harsh nor said with anger. She hadn’t even really looked to see who it was pushing himself through the line that she had patiently waited in. Her hands turned the knob in turn, deep red liquid flowed into her tankard, though she only allowed it to fill halfway. Her head turned to see who she spoke to, the tankard at her lips. A harsh gaze settled on him as she took a small swallow. “Will you push your way through first where we’re going too?” One side of her lips ticked upward, a half-smile that struggled to soften the rest of her expression.

Cadmus turned his head at the voice, finding himself looking at a black-haired elf warden, giving him somewhat of a smile.

“Ah. Apologies, I must have missed you,” Cadmus said. It was the truth, the elf passed completely beneath his notice. As far as keen sense of awareness go, Cadmus was far from an expert, but having been in the wardens for 4 years meant that he wasn’t exactly novice either. He doubted anyone would seriously try to sneak around in a feast, given the fact it might put some of the more veteran wardens on edge, so it’s likely that she was just doing it out of habit, just quiet enough to escape his notice. A proof of an experienced rogue.

Cadmus then smoothed his expression, as he smiled, “Like I said, I was just about to refill my bottle before–”

He stopped as a new arrival made his way to the two.

Rannon had arrived a few minutes prior, elbowing his way through rather than squeezing past. He didn’t want to be rude, but it was better him than Gideon, his hound at his heels until the Fereldan-born had found a plate and filled it to the brim. Pouring some off his plate for his companion, they both ate swiftly and a bit greedily. Warden food was Warden food, but all in all it was quite good. They had broken out the best cooks for today, he surmised. Once he was done, he put his plate up, and thanks to his height, his eye caught two familiar faces.

“Come on,” He said, his Mabari perking up.

Men and women laughed and chatted and jeered, toasting their flagons and engorging on the food as he passed. The tables were long and the hall wide, but his long legs got him to Shia in short order. He tapped her shoulder, briefly contemplating the poor joke of stepping to the opposite shoulder, but thinking better of it.

“Couldn’t resist the wine, either, eh?” He asked her, and then gave a nod to Cadmus when their eyes met. Gideon wriggled, and pushed through Rannon’s legs for Shia to pet him, if she would.

Cadmus nodded back at the blonde man who was seemingly about his age, before turning his attention to the mabari who was making his way to the elf. Mabari…a Ferelden warden, perhaps? It might be stereotypical, but mabaris were practically engraved in that nation’s history and culture, so…

He then replied, “The wine does smell excellent. They opened the good wine casket it seems.”

“In any case, allow me to introduce myself, I’m Cadmus. Cadmus Laenas,” he says, introducing himself to the two.

She felt the tap first, a sign she had grown complacent at not having picked up on the human’s approach. The smell and sound of a mabari was unmistakable though and eased away any discontent at being caught off-guard. Her head shook a quick no in response to the question, and then she was down, both knees bent and hovering over the ground in a crouch as the mabari wriggled before her.

“Who’s a good boy?” She knew Gideon, and by extension of that fact, his handler. Her thin fingers wrapped around his face and massaged the massive dog’s jowls playfully. War dog or not, like most animals he was eager to please the elven woman. She muttered a few more affirmations, something she doubted Rannon would be surprised at. It was the other man’s introduction that brought her back to standing, her body turned with a hand still resting on the mabari’s head, her elbow crooked slightly uncomfortably to do so.

Her expression evened out as she looked the man over more closely. A vint? No, something she had better not say aloud. With a quick glance to Rannon, she offered her name in return. “Shiathari, you one of the new arrivals?” She was certain she hadn’t seen him around before and something told her she would have noticed him if he had been.

Gideon wiggled excitedly, his huge mouth opened, his tongue lolling out as he panted happily. The mabari’s tail shook his entire back end, bumping into the table. Rannon had to pick him up by the haunches and move his back legs so they had room. Gideon had always liked Shia, and that was enough proof for Rannon to trust her, plus he thought she was funny. The other man, he didn’t recognize.

“Cadmus? Good to meet you,” Rannon remarked, his deep baritone easily piercing the din of the crowd. He shared a look with Shia, before he took Cadmus’ arm and shook it, making sure to not grip too hard. “Picked a hell of a time to join, but we could use all the help we can get, I’ll bet.” Gideon was inclined to agree, giving a yip, which could have been interpreted in many ways, but Rannon felt it was a greeting.

Cadmus nodded as he chuckled, “Hah…yes, a ‘hell of a time’ indeed, that’s quite the understatement. It’s good to meet both of you, Shiathari, Rannon.”

Turning to the Mabari, he added, “And you as well, of course. Though, regretfully, I do not know your name yet.”

He was part of the Imperial Senate, a politician. Part of the magisterium even, through one of the seats afforded to the Imperial Circle of Magi. Though not exactly a diplomat, he had spoken to some Ferelden dignitaries on occasion, and from what he had learned, ALWAYS gave respect to their Mabari lest you invite their scorns. They were called doglords for a reason, as unflattering the moniker was.

Cadmus continued, “I’m new to the Anderfels, but not exactly new to the wardens. It’s been about four years since my Joining now. I was in Orlais alongside some of my fellow Tevinter wardens when we received the order to come here. Then, when I arrived, I got the assignment to be part of the pathfinding team, and here we are. What about the two of you?”

Shia’s face remained flat beyond the sharp look that those she counted as friends would know was just how she was. “I’ve been a griffon-keeper here in the Anderfels for…” She paused, without purpose other than to quickly try and count the years. “Five? Years. A warden another five or so beyond that. The Free Marches, the border of Tevinter.” She enunciated that, her eyes trained on the new man for any weird tells. Gideon seemed to nudge her. “Right, this one wants you to know his name is Gideon.”

She lightly, or as lightly as she could that he would still feel it, pressed his head back down for her arm to rest more comfortably again. “I’ve had my fill here, seems we’re all meant to be seeing what the High Constable wants of us.” Shia bit her tongue to prevent the nickname she had for him from rolling off her tongue. Any of the wardens who had been at the fortress long enough had earned a nickname of some sort, mostly in good humor, or as a way to privately remember who was who.

Cadmus nodded, conveying his agreement, “It’s probably for the best. It would not do for us to be late to the briefing,” then, with a small smile, he added in a tone of a jest, “As senior wardens, we should be in the habit of arriving early. Good influence and all that.”

Rannon smiled, liking Cadmus’ pragmatic patriotism. “You’ll fit in just fine here, I think.” He said, his deep baritone powerful even amongst the party chatter. Gideon perked his head up, lifting Shia’s arm, sensing his master readying himself to move. The big mabari lifted himself up, and turned around, his fine coat brushing against Shia’s arm. “Come on, bud. Yeah yeah, Shia’s coming with us.” Rannon grinned, and he gave a nod to Cadmus to follow.

A journey of death, that was the rough translation of those words. Tae'ren couldn't help but feel they applied here rather snugly. Unfammiliar with the deep roads, he wasn't exactly upset by the premise of going there. Rather, he was more upset by the idea of walking blind into a series of tunnels and caves that have all but belonged to the dark spawn for gods only know how long... searching for an archdemon... no that was just far too little information for far too large a task.

What he couldn't argue with however, was the result of the speech itself, certainly at least some people among the wardens knew how to win hearts and minds. Tae'ren moved slowly, ambling in the direction of the food. He caught wind of a mention of the pathfinding team, and he soon found himself standing with a leg bone of meat he couldn't immediately identify. That wasn't the point though, it was good and watching the other members of what he assumed to be the team he would be working with was nice, the Mabari in particular interested him. Few and far between were the moments where a Dalish could safely approach and interact with a Mabari... they were certainly bigger in person.

Taking their moment of gathering as his attempt to approach, he thought it best to arrive alongside others. Besides, it gave him the chance to ask questions. "Andaran atish’an..... Sulevin, they were made with purpose were they not? The Mabari I mean." Tae'ren kept a respectable distance, but followed the others nonetheless. "I will be honest, I supposed many of the stories I had heard were little more than that... but truly now that I see one for myself without it wanting my throat... they do have a certain regal air to them do they not? Truly warriors of their own sort." He looked at the Mabari as he said this, as if speaking to it like an equal. "Though I dare not attempt your shape friend, lest I make a poor example of your lot with my façade. No, the direwolf suits me as I am, I think."

As if to make his point, the air blurred around him and before one might even blink, the massive form of a Direwolf replaced the short elf. Would it be shocking to some? Perhaps, but those who recruited him were well aware of his abilities and even sought his teaching some of their other mages. If any higher ups had issues with his wandering in a shape, then he didn't really know why they wanted him here. He padded along behind the group, careful to keep a neutral pace to make it clear he wasn't some feral beast... though perhaps the now clean leg bone from the food earlier that was now set in his jaws countered that attempt somewhat.

The meeting hall was a sectioned off from the great library of the citadel near the first warden’s office, and below the roosts this portion was used to review tactics, hold private meetings, and host the entire seniority of the grey wardens at their height. The walls were lined with relics, weapons, and darkspawn trophies. A painting of each Archdemon at the height of their strength hung in these halls, as a grim reminder of what the threat they had to contain was... Yet now, an image based on the description of Corypheus and of the Architect, though the second was only known within the wardens. The stone floors had been shined, yet blood stains from ancient days could still be seen among the cracked floors. Shelves divided up the different meeting tables as by the great double doors senior wardens were directing the arrivals to their tables. The other Pathfinder teams were three maybe five wardens meant to be fast and light. Yet the largest table was where each warden of the party would find themselves sent to.

Face to face with the high constable, Revanelas, the warden who riled up and excited the others with talk of glory now wore a grimm expression. As soon he was joined by Ashlea, one of the archivists and another Elf who had been with him to give the speech, but taking the other seat was a Qunari mage? No, she was Vashoth found and raised within the order by members of it, after they discovered what the Qunari colony planned to do to the child should they return her. Her sheer sized dwarf the two elves, yet unlike the grim look the other two had, she seemed pleased to see so many here. Small platter of crackers and cheeses along with dried meats sat upon the table for those who had not yet eaten, even two pony kegs of ale from the dwarves had been placed upon the table to help lubricate the discussions to come.

Once the last of them had taken a seat Revanelas stood and gave a bow. “You all have been chosen for the pathfinder teams. The other teams are around the room from us... Are smaller and more focused. Our mission is... Different from the others.” He spoke more openly now without the entire order eyes upon him, just the elite few who would carry out the task. A task that may very well change the fate of the dwarven people and the relevance of the grey wardens. “Felnammar, a fortress supposedly connected to Darmallon, the Great Golden Thaig. The smaller teams will be checking out the paths between Kal-Sharok and Felnammar and searching for signs of the Archdemon tomb... Our goal is to explore Felnammar, the dwarves of Kal-Sharok believes notes on the location of Darmallon can be found within the thaig. While the others hunt for the location of the Archdemon, we will fulfill the secondary mission. Uncover what Felnammar has to offer and when ready call in the dwarven reinforcement who will occupy and unseal its surface access. Meaning Kal-Sharok will now be able to trade with the surface, this will allow the body of the surface dwarves forces to join us in the deeproads.” He explained as chamberlain Adelina rolled out a map for them all to view this section of the deep roads. Showing what little was still mapped by the dwarves.

“From here your mission will change... Namely if we can secure Darmallon... We will.” Adelina explained, the Vashoth leaning over the table tracing the region she suspected the great thaig might be in. “Darmallon contains more gold than any mine in Thedas today... And for centuries before it fell, it was storing and stashing it. Orzammar and Kal-Sharok’s shaperate as well as their Assemblies have made an arrangement... To let the Surface dwarves occupy and rebuild Darmallon if it can be located.” Chamberlain Adelina explained as she looked between the faces of the gathered wardens. “While the speech outside was to offer up why we are doing this. Our true goals are long term. The archivists across the order believe it is not a risk of seven blights we face but seven blights and seven sidereal magisters... Old histories within the archives say that some darkspawn who could talk and command the others walked the earth once during the first blight.” She paused, as if reluctant to say more before Ashlea jumped in standing up.

“It is because of those stories we believe the total threat from darkspawn blight sized level cataclysmic events is fourteen, not seven. Meaning if you take the threat of the Architect and Corypheus as two of them... We have two more Archdemons and five sidereal magisters left to bring down.. And our Order is dying.” She said with finality as she let it sink in for a moment. “For all the reforms, the new blood, and the strength we have gained it is not enough to counter our decline. Griffons certainly boosted the order's prestige and mythos, if we gain control of the Anderfels it will alleviate our lack of funds and manpower shortages, for a time. But the greatest weakness is our shortened lives... Twenty to thirty years, in that time we must train our replacements and give them the same poison we ingested and hope they can build upon our work. Only now with a team of archivists, mages and researchers are we even starting to uncover the secrets of our forebears. Our fortresses crumble, our numbers dwindle as we are seen as less relevant with each Blight.” She looked at all of them, then shrank a bit realizing her emotions had been overwhelming her, she wanted to desperately tell them about potential cures for the Joining... But she couldn’t give hope without a guarantee, that was the greatest cruelty.

Revanelas stood up as the other two sat down, both fixing their eyes upon him. “Killing the Archdemon before it rises is certainly a way to restore our reputation... But, I believe we can help secure our future if we aid the dwarves in rebuilding. We cannot wait for the attacks... We need to find ways to bury them and kill them where they live and breed... More importantly all Pathfinder teams will have mages who can heal blighted landscapes... We will be testing this as we move along, archivist Ashlea will accompany us.” He explained as he looked at all of them. “Whether we kill the Archdemon, discover Darmallon, every inch of ground we take back. Every breeding ground we put to the torch will save thousands... I know not all of you agree with the plan but we must act. Thedas must see us as heroes and warriors of legend again, not the dying gasps of an ancient order of vagabonds cluttering their highways.” He spoke, the world had only for a brief moment made warden’s heroes in the days of the fifth blight’s closing. Moving on quickly to killing each other once more over what they saw as more pressing matters.

“Now. I am not some leader or tyrant who will demand you to do this... You may ask to be removed from the team and sent to the main force that will clear the roads to Kal-Sharok when the pathfinders discover the route or support other operations.” Revanelas slowly explained, as he sat down once more. “I will take any questions or discussion you wish to field now. Once we leave you are expected to follow orders, but this is the time to hear your concerns and thoughts. I promise you, the first warden will hear them too, this is no longer a place where you are expected to obey without question.” He spoke smiling as if to encourage. “I also encourage you to drink and introduce yourselves, while I have read and been told about you by your fellow wardens, few at these tables will know you all.”

---

As Cadmus listened to Revanelas explaining the true scope of their operation in the Deep Roads, he could feel a good deal of his concern alleviated. It appeared that the wardens were planning something with posterity in mind. And a good part of it lined up with what Cadmus had thought should be the next step. Solidify an alliance with the dwarves, find the dwelling of the old gods before cautiously looking for a way to safely take care of them, and attempt to do something about the taint in their blood. All of which were things that Revanelas had outlined.

There was, of course, the matter of the Order now declaring the Sidereal Magister officially as a threat. There had been a lot of rumours and speculation regarding the sidereal magisters among the wardens, but it had been a secret that the brass were content to keep among themselves. Now that Revanelas had officially declared them to be a threat on the level of archdemons, it would appear that a huge chunk of the rumours, especially the terrifying ones were true. Not that Cadmus was surprised, considering the threat that Corypheus posed.

Still, there were some things he was curious about, and thus, when he was given the chance to ask questions, Cadmus spoke up, "I am curious about a number of things. Chief among them, may I ask what exactly is the reason to keep this a secret from the rest of the wardens? I would think giving a holistic outline of what the wardens are seeking to achieve is paramount for the success of our operations. I understand some of it is to be kept from the rest to not incite panic, but...say, for instance, on the matter of forging a closer alliance with the dwarf, is there a particular reason this is to be kept secret from the rest of the wardens? After all, it wouldn't do for some foolhardy warden to cause some sort of diplomatic incident in the worst-case scenario. Second, if it is to be kept secret what exactly are we allowed to say, if any, to the rest of the wardens? Third, I would like to know what our stance is regarding reports of intelligent Darkspawn that were rumoured to have appeared post-Fifth Blight. Supposedly, it was the work of one of the Sidereal Magister, if we encounter any during our expedition to the Deeproads, is elimination our standing order?"

While Cadmus would have to see for himself first, intelligent Darkspawn would imply a chance of negotiation. It was not as if Cadmus was eager to negotiate with a Darkspawn, but if they could come to some sort of an accord, that might be the most efficacious way to 'end the conflict' with Darkspawns. After all, even if they wanted to, Cadmus doubted they had the capability to completely eradicate all Darkspawns at this point, given their numbers. Besides, some sort of ordered Darkspawn society might be preferable to unadulterated chaos, as it would be easier to keep watch for. The entire adage of keeping your friends closer and enemies closer would apply here.

---

Rannon was used to taking orders and giving them when the time came, but long conversation was not his forte. It muddied the objective and kept him on his toes about where the orders were truly coming from, what exactly they expected of him. He was a man of few words, but he was decisive. Deliberating got men killed, and unfortunately that sort of mentality leaked into peacetime or preludes before a battle. He almost wanted to tell Cadmus to keep his mouth shut, albeit in a gentler manner. But he had to admit the question was valid. Meanwhile, he pushed the inclination away for other matters.

He was not too keen on going so far beneath the world, but it was not the worst thing he could think to do. It would simply be an ignominious and pointless death if he died in a cave-in, and his large stature and great sword was not best suited for tight spaces. And the water nor air could be trusted. What would he do with Gideon? He glanced at his mabari, who seemed to sense his eyes and looked back up at him. Rannon guessed they would make-do like they always did, but the logistics of the venture with food and water would be a nightmare, even with the aid of the dwarves. In fact, the combat against the darkspawn seemed the easiest part. Even the promise of more blights was not too unwelcome to him.

Rannon had always been a good soldier, and a good warrior. He could fulfill both roles, and even if someday he did not come back from a campaign or a fight, as long as he was killing darkspawn, he was happy. Gideon felt the same way, to a point. Though, Gideon also fed off of Rannon's temperament and desires in a way. A part of him wished he was a different man, so Gideon could live a better life, but he also knew if he was a different man, then Gideon would not have imprinted on him in the first place. But fighting darkspawn where they slept in their beds, or whatever passed for their homes... it felt like vengeance, or justice. He did not know which, as of yet, but he would figure it out.

As for his part, he at least wished to introduce himself. It was expected of him, and though he did not speak much, it was not out of shyness. He cleared his throat, pushed his chair back, and stood to his full height, towering above everyone present save the Qunari, and even then they did not dwarf him in size. "I am Rannon Bryce, of Fereldan. This is my companion, Gideon. I am known by many of you, but to those who do not know me, I simply wish to say we are brothers and sisters of the order. I will fight, and if by some need, die to see that our mission is done. Let us go forth and take their spawning pits by storm." He spoke matter-of-fact, without raising his powerful voice, and then simply sat down, letting his words hang in the air.

For good measure, Gideon gave three hearty barks in agreement, and they echoed across the walls. Rannon placed a hand on Gideon's massive head to keep him steady, but the mabari merely nuzzled the hand back, happy for the attention.

Colette entered the room preferring to remain unseen. She did not need attention drawn on her from those higher up than her rank. She also did not need to be bothered by anyone wondering who she was and if she belonged here. There had been many a time growing up she was misjudged for one reason or another. Whether it was because she was a woman, because she was pretty, because she fought back rather than take the hit. Either way, the Grey Wardens were different, but were also the same.

Many saw them as heroes. Necessary battle figures in stopping the Blight and slaying the Archdemon. Colette had heard stories. Hell, she had sung about their many adventures when needed. She did not believe them fully. While she joined their ranks, she had done so against her will at first. While she found a home among them, she knew better than most that home did not offer immediate safety.

She listened intently as their mission was laid out in front of them. This was not the type of mission to be done for glory, though she was sure some of their number were in it for just that. It sounded necessary. Vital. Something that should not be screwed up.

Some of the others spoke, either to ask questions or to introduce themselves. So they were just supposed to hold hands and cheer? She supposed it would be good to know names and match them to faces in the event bodies would need to be identified. Colette grimaced, knowing she would have to speak up at some point. Wasn't her whole purpose to be unseen unless she demanded such?

Once a silence fell she moved from her hidden post and joined the others. She pulled down her hood, allowing her long, blonde hair to fall. "Velvet Thorn. You don't need to know my actual name." Satisfied that that was all they needed from her she moved back towards a nearby pillar and leaned against it, awaiting actual commands and the start of their job.

Kodran stood near the back of the room, as he watched and listened to what the rest said. Keeping quiet and not making himself known. So, the order's scope is farther than they let on. Not only are the archdemons still a threat, but so are the rest of the sidereal magisters. Five uncounted darkspawn who are doing what knows what. While he was concerned like Cadmus about keeping this a secret from the rest of the wardens. Kodran hopes they had a good reason to hide this and more from the rest.

But, he can see the arduous task laid before them. While they have a general idea of where to find an archdemon, somewhere underground, where do they even start finding the five sidereal magisters? Only two have appeared in the history of the Blights, and they appeared fairly recently. Finding them will be the harder task, and he can only imagine what it will take to kill one of them if they are anything like Corypheus.

Still, they are Grey Wardens, and ending a Blight before it begins would undoubtedly save many lives and the cost by the Grey Wardens to do so.... Well, is sacrifice apart of the deal with being a Grey Warden. If the world can be spared from another Blight and healed from the Taint, then he is all for it. Even if that means his death.

Now Kodran figured that he should introduce himself after some of the others have. So he spoke up, "I am Kodran Kveldulfsson, and I am ready for this task." Despite how hard it would be but he is prepared and now only waits to see when this mission will start.

“And I am high constable Revanelas, formerly of Arlathan and a Dalish clan in Tevinter.” He spoke to add his own introduction last. He then focused on the questions Cadmus had left hanging, they were good ones. “We are not keeping it a secret from the others. We are keeping it out of earshot of foreign guests. Orlais, Ferelden, and other dignitaries of the like do not need to know how ambitious we plan to be. Nation’s might take offense to our control and rise to relevance, thus we keep talks of exactly how we are going to bring the warden back to prominence quiet for the moment. The others will learn what we are doing as we draw near the deep roads.” Revanelas spoke as he rose to stand leaning forward with his hands on the table.

“The alliance with the dwarves is a tricky matter... Most of it hinges on us making good on our word. Not to mention a home for surface dwarf colonists to take back. The Dwarves do not want Tevinter to know they are looking for new friends, especially with the ambassadoria their unable to leave until the deal is done. The Tevinter control of the Venatori over the government is worrying to them already, they do not wish to push the extremists too far.” The real meaning, a large dwarven population were trapped under Minrathous and only the continued shipments of Lyrium and placating the Venatori would keep them safe. “This is for the dwarves, not our own ends.”

“As for the Magisters' sidereal...” Revanelas began but was cut off by Ashlea who decided to take it, this was a topic she had studied heavily.

Rising to her feet, as the high constable sat down. “As far as we know only Corypheus was able to jump from one body to another when killed. The Architect seemed able to be slain much more easily from the report. However, if a Magister sidereal is spotted only engage defensively. One of them created a Joining for darkspawn that nearly freed the horde from control of the Archdemon and let them wage war as intelligent thinking beings. Well... You all remember the giant hole in the sky Corypheus caused.” Ashlea answered, shaking her head a moment the chaos only two of them had caused.

“We recommend doing your best to identify or learn about them, then retreat if they are encountered. It’s paramount we try to learn more about these Magisters and keep ourselves alive long enough to do so... No matter how much I would love to interrogate one to see what they can tell us about the Darkspawn, killing them is far safer and what Warden leadership believes is the best course if it cannot be helped. We are fairly certain you will not be possessed and slowly become a replacement.” She added, hoping that would answer the question... Or at least help explain why their commanders were so... Decisive on what to do about these Magisters sidereal.

Revanelas nodded as Ashlea took her seat and gave the final address. “If that is all. Make yourselves ready. We leave tonight ahead of the main force leaving tomorrow morning. Horses and wagons with supplies and equipment. Along with the scouts and other pathfinders. As our job is the most pressing we will want to arrive first. I recommend you pack anything you need or any equipment you may want tightly. Spaces can get tight in the Deeproads.” He ordered then looked at them. “Dismissed. I’ll see you all at moonrise tonight. You can sleep in the carts on the way to the entrance.”