Ponies and Grey Wardens: A Dark Spawn

by Icecane

Ambush

Heaving an exasperated sigh, King Alistair rested his elbow on his desk as he held his chin. Eyes drifting lazily down at the desk, the papers he had been mulling through seemed to blur into incomprehensible messes the longer he stared at them. It was another dull day in the castle of Denerim for the king.

“I'm bored,” he stated obviously, talking to himself as he was completely alone in his study. As nothing immediately appeared to relieve him of his tiresome kingly duties, he began idly folding the corners of the pieces of parchments. “Maybe I should get drunk...? Been a while since I've loosened up. It's not like anyone could stop me anyway... I am the king after all.” Another sigh escaped, his joints cracking as he moved about a little bit more, becoming stiff from his solitary pose. “Nah... Teagan wouldn't let me hear the end of it.”

Barely noticing the yawn stretching his mouth wide, Alistair's vision slowly began to blur. The crackling of the fire behind him was almost soothing, the only sound he could hear. Everything seemed still, calming in spite of the ever present boredom that permeated his thoughts. Alistair didn't even notice it as the small thud of his forehead hitting the desk sounded, lightly snoring against his sudden rest.

It was short lived however, the doors to the study suddenly opening, one of the castle guards bursting in with a handful of papers in hand.

Gasping from the sudden, jarring intrusion, the Warden-King's head shot upward. Eyes fully open, a small trail of drool glistening from his lower lip down to his chin, he spotted the approaching guard. “I-I'm awake!” he quickly shouted, reminiscent to his younger days of study under the watchful eyes of the chantry. “I was just... taking a closer look at these papers.” Grabbing one of them from his desk, he held it up close to his face, nose nearly touching it. “Yup, these are words all right.”

“Uh... your highness,” the guard said, bowing his head respectfully all the same, “the latest reports on the darkspawn have arrived.”

“Have they now?” Alistair questioned. “Well, let's have a look.” Taking the small stack of papers, the previous ones were brushed aside as the king's focused was placed on what was new. “Have these gotten to the Grey Wardens yet?”

The guard shook his head. “No, they come to you first, then are supposed to be sent to Vigil's Keep. As the Warden-Commander ordered.”

“Hm, alright,” he then nodded, his gaze locked onto the papers as he looked from one to the other. “Reports from the Grey Warden scouts... as well as the one from Orzammar...” As he continued to look them over, a noticeable frown crossed his features.

“Is... is something wrong, Ser?” asked the guard, looking worried himself over his king's expression.

Not looking away from the reports, Alistair murmured, “The darkspawn seemed to have become much more active as of late. But why? I haven't seen them act this way since... the Architect...” Folding the reports back up, Alistair handed them back to the guard. “Get our fastest courier and tell him to get these to the Warden-Commander posthaste! I do not want a repeat of that incident!”

Nodding his head in understanding, the guard immediately turned and bolted from the room, reports in hand. Left alone once again, Alistair sat in his chair silently. He would be lying if he said he wasn't a little worried over what he had seen.

“It's probably nothing...” the king murmured to himself, unable to shake how unsure he sounded.

---

The Warden-Commander could only shake his head at his own perplexed mind. They traveled further and further into the Deep Roads. Walking through the tunnels constructed by the dwarves long ago, as well as the ones dug into by the darkspawn. Despite being in the very home of the foul beasts however, not a single one of the creatures had encountered them.

Having kept his thoughts clear, concentrating as hard as he could, the Warden wasn't even able to sense the creatures nearby. He couldn't even feel them far away, clinging to the deepest reaches of his mind. It wasn't something he had ever experienced before, for the first time feeling completely isolated from the ancient monsters.

“Maybe they knew I was coming and ran off in fear, heh,” he said aloud to his fellow Grey Wardens. Even as the words escaped him, his tone nothing but confident, it didn't take away from the creeping anxiety that was building. Thinking of himself as foolish against good fortune, he shook the sensation away, gesturing for them to continue onward.

They didn't have to travel much longer however, the commander already knowing how close they were to their goal. Sure enough, only after another hour of traversing through the expansive caverns that the darkspawn had opened up into the dwarven made pathways, they stopped in their tracks. With a knowing smile, the Warden-Commander gazed up at the structure before them, while Aseril and Tearser marveled at the strange sight.

Where the Deep Roads only had emptiness and ruins, the small structure certainly stood out. It was shaped like a fortress, a large stone wall surrounding what looked like a wide tower that raised high into the air. The architecture itself was very similar to that of the old dwarven thaig ruins dotting the Deep Roads where the subterranean civilization existed. It made certain that those few who looked at it knew what hands crafted it.

It was situated in a far, dark corner of the cavern they were in, away from prying eyes of darkpsawn and brave soul alike. In the center of the wall they were facing, a large wooden doorway blocked their entrance. In the center separating the double doors, a familiar square hole was set into the metal framing it. Without a word, the commander produced the stone key he had used once before, inserting it into the hole and giving it a sudden turn.

A metallic clacking sound echoed through the dingy landscape, the door itself suddenly trembling for a brief moment. Pausing just for a moment, the Warden then put the rectangular key away and placed his hand on the door, giving it a forceful push. Groaning loudly in its defiant ways, the door slowly creaked open, with the commander's feet firmly pushed against the rocky ground.

Within moments, the doorway was open, leaving the Warden's heavy breathing to linger in the air from the sudden exertion. The inside of the fortress walls showed very little however. Only a few crates and sacks of supplies were seen, as well as an elevated path spanning the wall, allowing any to peer over it if need be. The tower itself still loomed in front of them however. Though it didn't look as impenetrable as a mighty castle, it would surely hold up against a small raid of darkspawn that might happen upon it. Another door barred their entrance into the tower, much smaller than the gate they had opened and looking far more modest in design.

Staring at it for only a moment, the Commander turned to his fellows and said, “Why don't you two wait out here. Keep a sharp eye out for anything coming our way, I shouldn't be too long.”

“Yes, Ser,” both Grey Wardens said, nodding their heads in acceptance. With his own nod, the Warden-Commander opened the door, having no resistance as there was no lock for it, and disappeared into the tower.

The inside of the structure was eerily comparable to that of the Circle Tower. Many of the rooms held large tables filled with strange alchemical apparatuses, as well as massive bookshelves holding a seemingly countless number of old tomes. Several floors made up the tower, each with a winding staircase running up the wall to reach the next.

Slowly, the Warden made his way up the tower, not seeing the faces he was looking for immediately. Everything was silent, nearly nerve-wracking. All he could hear was his own light breathing and thudding footsteps. As more floors were at his feet, several other noises filled the air. The unmistakable sounds of bubbling liquids and rushing fluids became known. There was also the sudden, acrid scent of burned flesh and smoke.

The Warden's steps slowed as he reached the top of the tower. Every ounce of his ability was put into making his footfalls silent, the rest of his concentration put into listening to what was around him. From all that he could sense however, the tower seemed abandoned, made all the more possible by the lack of company he had seen. But such suspicions were soon put to rest, as he rose into the uppermost floor and felt the searing heat of a fireball land just inches away from his face.

Nearly toppling over and back down the stairs, the commander jumped to the side, hand already gripping the hilt of his blade as his eyes became set on the direction the blast of fire had come from. Standing there, several feet away, a man in mage's robes stood there, smoking hand outstretched.

“Oh, it's you,” the mage said, eyes growing wide for a moment while his tone seemed far too casual for what he had just attempted.

Rubbing the warm flesh on the side of his head, feeling as though the hairs on his face were nearly singed, Commander Cousland murmured, “Not the welcome I was expecting, Anders.”

The Grey Warden mage simply looked at his commander, lips parting in a goofy smile before he approached him, slapping him on the back amusingly. "Sorry about that,” he said with a laugh. “We've just been a bit jumpy as of late. We've felt no darkspawn around for ages, figured they were planning something.”

“I told you to look before you start shooting fire everywhere,” another man chimed in. On the other side of the room, a man wearing his own set of robes stood behind a table, holding a quill in his grip as he began to scrawl notes in a book set before him.

Anders merely rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. 'Don't burn that down, Anders.'” he said offhandedly. “Sound more like my mother why don't you, Seren.”

“I can only wonder why you'd be throwing fire at her in the first place. Or why she wouldn't use your real name,” the preoccupied mage replied, causing Anders to stick his tongue out at him childishly.

The Warden merely chuckled at the lighthearted bickering, knowing it was a common thing between the two roommates. His gaze then began to shift from one mage to the other, taking in how much the two had change since the long stretch of time he had seen them last.

There was little else to Anders' attire besides the usual robes he wore. The only other things on him was the satchel that was at his side, occasionally moving on its own for the obvious reason, as well as the noticeable scar running across the palm of his right hand. The mage's appearance had changed very little as well. His hair had grown longer from his self-imposed solitude in the Deep Roads, leaving the ponytail he kept it in to have more length. There was also noticeable stubble on his face, making the Warden wonder if it was even possible for him to grow a full beard.

The other mage, Seren, was far different compared to Anders. He was as well kept as he usually was, clean shaven with his hair always cut short. Even his robes looked much more clean and new. His eyes held a dark, sunken gaze, always looking as though he never got enough sleep. It was coupled with his pale skin, making him look more like a ghost than anything.

Around them, the room held many similarities to that of the many others down below, with several stark differences as well. The bubbling sound that the Warden had heard before came from the boiling fluids on a nearby table. The glass vials were held over burners so that the liquids inside bubbled loudly, producing strangely colored pillars of steam.

Several tables had more sinister looking equipment. Calipers and tongs were what the commander was able to immediately recognized, but everything else was foreign to him, only able to tell that many of there were incredible sharp and easily capable of cutting into flesh. Where such tools were used became readily apparent as well. Only a simple glance in the room was able to show him the most definable features of the place, the corpses of dwarves that laid motionless. There were only a few, skin looking as cold and rough as stone, bloodied tarps were thrown over the rest of their bodies.

Barely paying the sight any mind, the Warden-Commander looked at the still busy mage and casually asked, “So, how does the research go?”

At that, Seren's face brightened, looking strange with his overly white skin. Smiling a little, he replied, “Quite well actually.” Pausing for a moment to jot down a few more notes, he continued. “We're getting further and further along with our work, made especially helpful with the steady supplies coming in from Orzammar,” he coughed lightly in his hand, “as well as the Legion's extraordinary assistance and cooperation, of course.”

Anders rubbed his chin in perplexing thought. “I'm still surprised they took it so well,” he said. “'Hey, we'd like to butcher your honored dead, that'd just be fine, right?' Heh, they've even sent their fallen down to us on their own. It's not even like our research would matter to them.”

“They share the same world as us,” Seren said, eyes now locked on a dusty tome in his hands. “Underground or not, a world filled with abominations is still an issue. And just think what gateways our success could open.” For a moment, his gaze broke to look at the commander. “Let's not forget who it was that asked them too. One simply can't say no to the Hero of Ferelden these days.”

A chuckle escaped Anders as he folded his arms, leaning his back against the nearest wall. “Tell that to the templars,” he retorted merrily. “He's more of an enemy to them than the blasted demons themselves. That's not even taking into account this place. Boy, if they heard that two blood mages were hidden away in the Deep Roads and doing experiments, they'd knock down the doors to the keep and drag the commander away in chains saying that you were summoning demons to attack Ferelden.” A soft meow sounded and all eyes moved to the mage's bag, where the white-furred head of his cat popped out. “Aw, isn't that right, Ser Pounce-a-lot? Yes it is. Yes it is.”

“Of course they'd immediately label us as maleficarum,” Seren snapped with a sneer, an immediate glare of disdain crossing him. “To ban such essential things like medical practice, all because of their blind paranoia. I can only thank the Maker that you saved me when you did, Commander.” Absentmindedly, his hand reached up and lightly rubbed his neck, he gulped audibly.

“I couldn't let such a brilliant mind go to waste. Especially when the Grey Wardens don't share the same views as the Circle.” the Warden replied. “You've been a wondrous help. Someone I can trust to help me and Anders with our goal.”

“And what a goal,” the pale mage said, growing more excited as he thought on it. “Just think, mages not having to rip their very personalities from the minds to be free of their powers. Being Tranquil will be a thing of the past.”

The Warden-Commander looked surprised at that, looking between the two mages in confusion. “So... you two haven't had any grand breakthrough?”

For a moment, both mages began to look confused themselves, both shaking their heads. “I'm sorry, but... no,” Anders said apologetically. “We've gotten pretty far, but we are just as far from our actual goal.” Looking over to Seren for a moment, the cat-loving mage wordlessly nodded to him. Upon seeing the look on his face, the pale mage dropped his book and crossed the room to a series of vials.

“Our initial thoughts have proven to be correct,” Seren said as he began looking through assortment of glass tubes. “Dwarves hold no connection to magic or the Fade itself, even having a resistance to magic itself. Of course, the reason for it is obvious.” He turned toward the commander for a moment, holding his hand out where a small chunk of rock rested on a thick cloth. It glowed with a brilliant blue color, a radiance that drew the eyes to stare at it almost longingly. “Lyrium is what gave them this gift, it might also be what will help us.”

“Of course,” Anders chimed in, “we're looking for a way for the effects to be more immediate, not having to wait centuries.”

“Yes, very true,” Seren nodded, wrapping the stone back up in the cloth and setting it aside. “We've already seen how lyrium works on mages now. But the Rite of Tranquility is as outdated as it is barbaric.” Grabbing something else, the mage approached the commander, holding up a vial of a glowing blue liquid. Swirls of a brilliant azure twisted and floated within, nearly as bright as the flame of a torch. Curious, the commander took the vial from the mage, examining it for himself. Even with the cork firmly sealing it, there was an earthy smell coming from the mixture.

“It's the best we've got so far,” Anders said, looking at the vial himself, seeing their goal coming so close, yet still seeing the distance that separated them from it. “It's made from the same methods as lyrium potions as well as what the chantry uses to give to their templars. Added to it are what mixtures we've come up with from the blood of the dwarves we've studied. Even then, I don't think it's ready to test just-” The rest of Anders' words were caught in his throat as his eyes grew wide, witnessing the commander popping the cork from the vial and down a portion of its contents.

His entire body shaking, the commander immediately dropped down to his knees. The entire tower seemed to swaying like a ship caught in stormy waters to him. The startled gasps from the two mages were completely lost to him. Nothing was all his thoughts could focus on, everything becoming clouded and impossible to focus on.

It wasn't until he felt the grip of Anders and Seren on his arms, forcing him upright, was he jarred out of his stupor. The tower came rushing back to him, as if the stones forming it were crashed together to reform the structure. His legs could barely take to standing on solid ground, feeling like he had been wading through muddy earth all his life. For several moments, the grips on his arms stayed there, making sure he could steady himself. Soon enough, he was let go, feeling like he would collapse for single moment before he was able to assure himself he could stand on his own.

“Are you crazy?!” the outraged voice of Anders shouted into his ears, striking his skull like a hammer to an anvil. “That mixture could have killed you on the spot for all you know?! What were you thinking just downing it like some cheap ale?!”

Groaning in response to the mage, the Warden-Commander braced himself against the nearby wall, rubbing his eyes as he felt like he had spent the entire night trying to outdo Oghren in a drinking contest. “Sorry,” he managed to force out of his mouth, his voice a ragged croak. “Guess I wasn't really thinking.”

“How are you feeling?” Seren asked. His tone was far different from Anders' holding no worry or anger. In fact, he sounded intrigued. Looking up at him, the commander even noticed a journal and quill in his hands, his gaze locked on him firmly, eagerly awaiting to hear the results.

“A bit... light headed?” the commander murmured, finding it difficult to center his thoughts. It was a strange feeling, his mind feeling far too empty, unnaturally so. His thoughts seemed too small to fill the cavernous depths of his skull, like something had been removed to create the sudden abundance. “A little weak... and a bit... nauseous.”

“Fascinating,” Seren breathed, his pale faced showing more excitement as he quickly wrote down notes in his journal. “You're no mage, but you're still connected to the Fade.” He lightly grabbed the Warden's chin, turning his head from side to side to examine him. “Gaze is a bit vacant, could just be an initial reaction. Skin's a little cold... Actually, you're reaction is very similar to that of mages right after they're made tranquil.”

Anders began scratching his chin in thought, taking the vial from the commander and looking at what fluid remained. “We must be closer to it than we thought...”

“So... am I disconnected from the Fade?” the commander asked. His tone must have sounded more desperately hopeful than he had wanted, judging by the curious look that Seren gave him.

The mage simply shrugged. “Perhaps... perhaps not,” he said cryptically. “You're no mage, so it's not like we can test it with a show of magic. Even then, I doubt it's permanent. No... at best, your mind's just clouded from the Fade. It'll surely wear off... in time.” A smile spread across his face. “But even still, that stunt will prove quite helpful. I'm certain in no time we'll figure out a way to cut the mind free permanently.”

“A 'cure' for mages...” Anders muttered offhandedly. “No doubt the Chantry would treat it like one, try and destroy all mages with it, even the ones who don't want it.”

“But don't forget,” Seren returned, “this will be in the hands of the Grey Wardens. Even though the templars have held a great deal of contempt for us, I know they won't dare try anything so long as the Warden-Commander's around.” The mage's face turned bright red as he released a loud laugh, nearly doubling over from the swelling joy. “Goodness, you should have seen them before I 'left' the Circle all those years ago. The templars are intimidated by you, I think the Knight-Commander's even afraid. Not hard to see why though.” With another small chortle, he took the vial from Anders and took his journal off to the far side of the room to set them aside.

As Seren busied himself, Anders looked at the commander carefully. From his bending knees and occasional quiver coming from his body, it looked as though he was having trouble simply standing. “Are you alright?” he asked, watching him immediately stiffen his posture.

“Yes,” the Warden nodded. “I'm fine I just... need a few moments to recuperate.”

A huff escaped the mage as he folded his arms. “What's up with the sudden death wish anyway? I thought you liked to throw yourself at monsters and demons, not haphazardly gulp down possibly lethal concoctions. That's more Oghren's thing.”

“Sorry...” Commander Cousland replied. “It's just...” He stopped himself, locking eyes with Anders for a brief moment. Of course, the mage deserved to know of his lavender-furred guest. “Recently, the keep has been visited by an old friend.” Stopping for a second, he waited to spy the confused stare from the mage, already knowing he would guess his cryptic words. Lowering his voice just enough as to not be overheard, he said it. “Twilight's come to our world.”

“What?!” Anders blurted out, causing Seren to look over toward them briefly. Voice becoming a sharp whisper, the mage quickly grabbed onto the commander's shoulders sharply, nearly throttling him as he began to shake him vigorously. “Wh-what's she doing here?! Is everyone alright?! How's Fluttershy?! What's going on?!”

The Warden-Commander stayed silent, waiting for the mage to calm down before he lightly pulled his hands off of him. “Everything's fine,” he said reassuringly. “She's made no mention of what the others are up to, so I doubt anything's wrong. But she's managed to find a way to travel to world.” A light exhale escaped him as he smiled warmly. “She... missed me... Oghren and Sigrun are looking after her now, but I wanted to come here to see how far you guys had actually come.” A frown made its way onto his expression at that. “From that letter you sent, I had assumed you were much closer.”

Anders merely stared at the commander with confusion shadowing his features. “Letter?” he questioned. “What letter?”

Blinking in confused surprise, the commander was about to question his friend. But before he could utter a word, a loud, crackling boom sounded off. The entire tower suddenly shook, the sound of shattering glass filled the room as several of the vials and beakers fell from their rightful places, the inhabitants stumbled about as they had difficult finding sure footing.

No one had a chance to steady themselves or to react. Just as soon as the shaking ended, the nearby wall exploded inward. A massive ball of rock, metal and fire broke into the room, nearly smashing through the wall on the other side before it came to a halt. Seren was nearly flattened by it, having just moved out of its destructive path.

Stepping over the rocky debris, the three Grey Wardens looked out the gaping hole that had just been created. Far off in the distance, in the cavernous depths that they were in, an ominous red glow could be seen, vicious roaring cries erupted into the air.

A loud clang of metal against stone sounded from far below them. At the base of the tower, Aseril and Tearser came running in, their gazes set upward. “C-Commander!” Aseril shouted upward, the oncoming panic clear in his shaken voice.

Comments

[Icecane]

Ugh. Sorry again for the long wait everybody. There's just been a lot of stuff keeping from this. Stuff I didn't really have much say in, as well as... well...

Okay, I've been a bit addicted to Rune Factory for the WII. It's strangely fun and repetitive, reminding me a lot of the first time I played Animal Crossing. (I know it's based around Harvest Moon but I'm not as into that series) I've played the PS3 one but I've yet to fully finish it since my console decided to break on me. Just need to get it working again so I can finally play some Dragon's Crown.

But anyway, the game's oddly a "I can't stop playing" thing. It's so simple, yet so fun. It honestly reminds of the Dark Cloud (Chronicle) games I used to play. Okay, okay, I know I'm going off on some odd tangents, but that final one is actually going into something. But you won't understand until further into the story, so pay attention out there.

But anyway (again), there's also something I might as well address. As you've seen, Anders is in the story. Yes, this Anders has gone through DA2, no he did not give up his cat or "fuse" with Justice. Why? Because that was dumb. That is all. I don't care if it's technically not cannon, I'm not accepting broody/emo/always depressed Anders over Awakening Anders.

And really, is anyone saddened by this? Is anyone actually going to miss DA2 Anders? Didn't think so.

[D0CT0RWHOOVES]

3056788 i don't think anyone will miss anything from DA2

[GunsmithPete338]

I like your version of canon better anyway. Have a moustache