by Milton Garby
"What do you mean?"
"The policies he wishes to make may seem too drastic to some. He wishes to allow the Casteless to have the right to bear arms, which is considered an insult to the Warrior and Smith Caste. And his impending marriage to a Casteless woman is also the center of great scandal."
"I see. Such a…scandal indeed. Thank you for answering my questions, Lord Shaper."
"You're welcome. Your visit has been recorded in the memories. I just wish I knew what importance it has."
Down at Tapsters….
XoXoXo
Wynne and her company walked back down to the Commons and waited at Tapster's Tavern for the rest of their number. By the time they arrived Zevran and Leliana were already waiting for them. Leliana was singing an Orlesian ballad to the many patrons in the bar, all of them listened intently and stared at the foreign, red-headed beauty with wide eyes. Zevran was making bets and having a knife throwing contest with the drunken patrons.
Leliana and Aedan overheard an argument over someone named Branka go on between two warriors. The one, who reeked of putrid alcohol and puke, was making demands about going after her. Apparently the only Paragon elected in four generations was that soiled, sword-hands wife and he was left behind when she took their entire house into the Deep Roads in search of some ancient technology. She also learned as much as she could abour Branka herself.
Zevran walked around the city and learned all he could about the two contenders. Bhelen was losing support of certain members of the Warrior and Noble Caste because of how much freedom and privilege he wanted to provide to the Casteless. Apparently, trying to improve the lot of the destitute Casteless by allowing them the right to fight for their city was considered a profane insult to the warriors and nobles of this city. However, Harrowmont was losing support because of his lack of action against the lawlessness in the city and because of how he let his adherence to tradition decide his action.
A small ginger haired dwarf approached Wynne. "Ah, it seems we got a full house of topsiders today. I'm Corra your hostess. Just let me know if there's anything I can get you."
"Hmm, actually I've always wanted to try some of that famous dwarven ale."
"You're in luck. We just got done brewing a fresh batch. I'll bring you a bottle"
"Thank you. And please bring something for my young friend."
"I'll have some Fereldan whiskey and some stew if you've got any." Alistair asked.
"Got a few bottles of Coastland whiskey left, and we just got done cooking some more nug roast if you're hungry. And anything for your walking statue?"
"If what you serve here makes these dwarves act the way they do, I'd sooner be chipped into pebbles with a chisel." Shale grumbled.
"Your loss, creepy." Corra answered as she left to get her orders.
Wynne sat down on a relatively clean stool with a tall mug of lichen ale. The liquor was brewed from a fungus and was black as jet stone. The old woman took a long whiff of the sickly sweet smelling drink and drank it down in one long quaff. When she had swallowed the last drop she exhaled out the ale's scent. That was a very satisfying drink for the expierienced liquor connoisseur.
A surly, heavily muscled dwarf, obviously warrior caste, sat himself across from Wynne and downed his whole mug in a single swig, then slammed his mug to the table, shooting a challenging look at Wynne. The old mage smiled at him and raised her hand for another drink, as did the warrior and they both tried to down their ale as quickly as they could in one drink. Pretty soon they had themselves a drinking contest that got the attention of the whole bar!
Zevran saw how everyone circle of people around the two drinkers. "DRINK! DRINK! DRINK DRINK!" The patrons all chanted.
Sensing an opportunity here, Zevran decided to make some money off of this. "I'll bet three to one on the old lady!"
"I'll take that bet!" One patron called.
"I'll bet a week's salary that the warrior beats the topsider!" called another.
"How is it she's still alive?"
"She must have Valos Atredum!"
"Chug it! Chug it! Chug it!"
The warrior guzzled down every glass he could get his hands on like his life depended on it, while Wynne maintained a dignified posture and even as she drank down mug after mug she did not lose her poise. Alistair was amazed that she was still alive, let alone be able to keep drinking. The Joining would be like sipping tea to this woman!
There was sudden dead silence.
It was down to the last mug and both contestants were showing signs of fatigue, but had fierce determination in their eyes. Who would win this battle of wills, the hardy veteran or the experienced mage? This warrior was not going to be showed up by some topsider in his own house. But the mage didn't make it this far just to lose now. Both drinkers grab their mug and ready themselves, this would be the moment of truth. And now dead silence from the audience. Both drinkers raise bottoms up and pour their ale down their throats. They were both cutting close, drinking at the same pace, neither one exceeding nor defeating their opponent. Finally they both down the last drop of ale fell from their glass, and both contestants slam their mugs to the table. It was a draw.
No. No, no, wait. The warrior is losing posture, it doesn't seem like he can stay up! The warrior falls to the ground with a resounding thud and thunderous belch. Wynne was the victor.
Everyone in the tavern cheered rousingly for the topsider.
All the dwarves who lost their bet grudgingly gave their payment to Zevran. "Oh, beautiful profit, how I cherish thee. Wynne I don't think I've ever loved a woman as much as I do you right now."
"Be careful, Zevran." A very tipsy Wynne warned. "I may be drunk, but I can still liquefy your brains if you try anything."
"You wound me, madam! I would never take advantage of a woman while she was intoxicated!"
"Oh, really?"
"Yes. When I bed you, I want us both to remember it!"
Wynne groans in disgust. Suddenly the cheering in the room was disrupted when a young dwarf burst in through the doors.
"Everyone! Everyone, listen! Important news!" he cried out of breath.
"What is it, boy? This a man's tavern." A miner called.
"There's a topsider, one angry human at the Proving Grounds! He's declared he's going to take the championship from Piotin Aeducan and he's destroying the competition! He's fighting all the warriors bare handed! And he's naked!"
Now this was news! Suddenly every person not unconscious from the alcohol or puking their innards out, cleared out of the tavern and rushed to the Proving Grounds.
Alistair only had one guess who this angry, naked human destroying all his opponents could be. "Excuse me, does this angry, naked human have a lot of tattoos?"
"A lot of tattoos? He's practically covered in them!"
Alistair face-palmed himself. "That's what I thought. Shale pick up Wynne and let's get to the Proving Grounds and see what Aedan's done this time."
"How will we know where to find it?" Leliana asked.
"Just follow the cheering crowd, I imagine."
Ten Minutes Later at the Proving Arena….
Alistair and the others could barely hear their own thoughts over the roaring of the crowds that filled the whole building. The place was so overflowing with dwarves that they could barely move, but thanks to the massive golem wading through the enormous crowd, they made their way to the front row where the crowds actually had a sheet to cover them when torrents of blood came their way. They looked down into the glorified fighting pit and they were all thankful that he wasn't actually naked, just half-naked with his shirt off and no armor. He was, however, covered in blood and giving one poor dwarf the beatdown of his life. Alistair could see that Aedan was pissed, more pissed than usual, if that's even possible. He was taking on all the veterans and elite of the warrior Caste in this Proving bare-handed, yet the way he was moving, the way he fought was like a rabid dog that just got kicked in the ass with a lead boot. Aedan had gone comple
tely berserk and the look in his eyes was that over pure, unadulterated anger. Something, or someone really set Aedan off. Wonder who that poor bastard was?
About half an hour ago in the Proving Arena….
Aedan read books and seen illustrations that described Orzammar's Proving grounds, but just like any other experience, seeing it was a totally different matter altogether. Massive stone halls leading to the arena, statues of great champions and warriors who had made a name for themselves here were littered all across the inside of the arena. Aedan looked out into the stands and saw the massive, stone-carved arena. It was dug into the ground so that the crowd could look down and see the combatants fight one another, the very floor of the ring was scarred by the constant battles that took place in it. And above the arena were the carved faces of their Paragons that, supposedly, watched and guided the hands of the warriors below.
"Ah, bloodsport." Morrigan remarked. "Watching people kill each other for entertainment. The highlight of an underground society no doubt."
"But of course, Morrigan." Aedan responded. "This is where a warrior's character is laid bare before his people and his ancestors. It's here, in this arena, honor is lost and won. A man's fate is decided by the strength of his arm and the courage of his spirit. All disputes are decided with honor and are left in this arena. To act dishonorably here, is to forfeit honor for all time."
"Judging someone's crimes or character for their ability to fight, rather than the evidence or how they act in the world. Yes, truly an enlightened form of conduct."
"That's a fair piece of judgment. Too bad you don't follow it yourself." Aedan commented flippantly.
Morrigan stood there stunned, and lost for words. Aedan called her out on hypocrisy and she knew he was right.
Aedan started talking with one of the local fans, a miner named Varik, about some of the best fighters in this proving. Aedan was impressed with the diverse training the dwarven warriors receive. With the darkspawn constantly pressing in on them, they've had to develop more training methods and fighting tactics. The twins, Myaja and Lucjan, used divide and conquer tactics. Myaja would attack from the front with a massive hammer and her brother would attack from behind with a set of dirks. Then there was Hanashan, a member of the deadly Silent Sister. Just being a member of this legendary sorority spoke of her combat prowess, but Hanashan was in a league of her own. Lord Darvianak Vollney was a four time Grand Proving champion with a highly disciplined unit at his back, and was made more famous when he fought in a duel to clear his name about killing his brother, but refused to admit whether or not he did it. The real talk of the town was Piotin Aeducan, a close cousin of Prince Bhelen. His skill and tenacity was ao great that the late Prince Trian declared him "the horns of the Aeducan army."
"You call yourself a warrior?" Came a loud and domineering voice.
Aedan turned around and saw a shaved dwarf clad in heavy, white, dwarven plate-mail. Unlike most dwarven men he had no beard, just a scruffy stubble and stamped on his chest-piece was the heraldry of House Aeducan.
"Sweet, sodding Ancestors!" Varik yelled. "Piotin Aeducan!"
Apparently this bald thug was the toast of the Proving. He was surrounded by his men and an entourage of swooning Noble Hunters.
"Look at the way you stand. Your stance is sloppy, your moves are predictable! There's no way you'll make to the finals, let alone survive your first match!" The Dwarven royal said with a mix of aggression and sheer arrogance.
Aedan tried to ignore the little prick's comments. What the hell did he know? Aedan turned his back and attempted to make his way over to Morrigan.
"And now you're just going to walk away?" Piotin sneered. "To have such weak warriors…No wonder Ferelden was conquered by Orlais."
Aedan felt his heart burst with rage. Having to play errand boy to get his troops was one thing, but he would be damned before he would let some dwarven noble-rat insult his country to his face. "YOU MISERABLE, SOD OFF, LITTLE RUNT!" Aedan exploded, getting the attention of the whole arena. "YOU JUST FUCKED WITH THE WRONG ALAMARII! I AM GOING TO MAKE IT MY MISSION IN LIFE TO SLAUGHTER YOU INFRONT OF YOUR WHOLE GODDAMNED RACE! I AM GOING TO SHOVE MY BOOT SO FAR UP YOUR ASS, THE NEXT TIME YOU KISS A GIRL SHE'S GONNA TASTE THE SHIT ON MY HEEL!" Aedan looked over to the proving master with murder painted on his face. "YOU, PROVING MASTER! SIGN MY NAME INTO THE DAMNED LISTS, AND YOU'RE ALL GONNA WANNA WATCH THIS PROVING. YOUR PARAGONS ARE GOING TO…WEEP…BLOOD! WHEN THEY SEE WHAT I'M GOING TO DO TO YOUR FIGHTERS!
Five minutes later…
"This is Glory Proving, fought under the watchful eyes of the Paragons of Orzammar to honor the memory of King Endrin." The Proving Master announced from his podium. "Up first we have the warrior, Seweryn! Many of you remember when Seweryn made Proving history when, as a lad of twelve, beat his own father in this very arena! Becoming the youngest Proving Champion in Orzammar history!"
Seweryn puffs out his chest and raises his sword for the crowd, yelling in confidence and adoration.
"Today we have a late entry, a member of the famed Order of the Grey, who has sworn to take the championship! Please welcome the Grey Warden!"
Aedan marches into the arena carrying no weapon and wearing no armor, his tattoos laid bare for everyone to see. At first Seweryn scoffed at his unarmed opponent, but Aedan shot a glare at him that made the warrior reconsider his actions.
"It-it seems that the Warden will be fighting this Proving unarmed and without protection. Just as Doarnik of the Servant Caste did when he fought to defend his family's honor against Lord Dace!" The announcer called. "Fighters meet each other."
The two warriors meet in the middle of the arena.
"You honor me with this fight." Seweryn called.
"GRRRR!" was the only response Aedan gave.
"Fight!"
Before Seweryn could assume a stance Aedan charged him like his feet were made of lightning! He kicked the dwarf square in the jaw, sending flying a yard away and landing on his back, knocking him silly. Not giving his opponent any quarter, Aedan grabbed his opponent by the ankles and raised him the air like a ragdoll and slammed him back into the ground again, and again, and again. When Aedan was sure his opponent was done for, he spun his opponent around in the air and threw him across the arena and into a wall with a loud smash.
The crowd was dumbstruck. Even the Proving Master was at a loss for words. To the mob it became apparent that this human was going to be a crowd pleaser. To the other fighters it became apparent that Aedan was a berserker, his intense anger made him stronger than anyone else in the arena. But was not apparent was that Aedan was also a Reaver, so any damage he sustained would only increase his already herculean might.
"The winner is the Grey Warden! A stunning victory! Perhaps we have a new champion in the midst here! But first he must face the twin terrors of the Warrior Caste, Myaja and Lucjan!"
The twin warriors strode in from their corner, Myaja with her hammer and Lucjan with his dirks.
"May the Stone honor you…" Myaja started.
"When you fall." Lucjan finished.
Aedan stared down the both of them. "I'm gonna shove your sibling's head up your ass and turn you into a dwarven centipede."
The two warriors assumed their stance but Aedan just stood their menacingly.
"Fight!"
The twins attempted to circle around the human, Myaja to the front and Lucjan to the rear. But instead of focusing on Myaja and her hammer, Aedan charged towards Lucjan grabbing him by the hair and proceeded to punch the living shit out of his face. Lucjan managed to stab Aedan a few times, but his blades didn't even tickle the human and he soon lost consciousness as Aedan pounded his nose and face into a pulp. Myaja tried to save her brother by charging at his human assailant from behind with her hammer, but Aedan heard her approach and used her brother as a living shield against her powerful swing; she was able to stop her attack just inches in front of Lucjan's bloody face. Aedan dropped his out cold opponent, wrenched Myaja's ham
mer from her while she was distracted and then smashed her across the face with her own cudgel. Aedan was satisfied with making their faces look as similar as possible, as it should be with twins.
"This is unprecedented. The three of the best felled by a barehanded topsider! What kind of training do these Wardens get? Will his winning streak continue? Let's find out! Next fight!"
Present time…
By the time Alistair and the rest of his companions came into the arena, Aedan was already pounding Captain Roshen into a stain on the arena floor. Roshen was too used to finishing his opponents in a single swing he had no follow up attacks. Aedan quickly showed him the error of his style as he beat the living daylights out of him! When he was finished the guards had to drag Roshen's unconscious body out and get him to healer for the massive concussion he most definetly had.
Aedan was still so overcome with rage that he couldn't he Alistair calling his name or Zevran and Leliana cheering for him.
Morrigan looked down on Aedan with lust hidden behind her eyes. His muscles rippled beneath a sheen of sweat and the blood of his opponents. Somehow the blood accentuated his tattoos, and seeing him destroy everything that stood in his way with no fear or obstacle excited her. If she could get him this riled up in bed that would be a good night. Those skilled hands of his were capable of just as much pleasure as pain.
"This is astounding! Not only has the Grey Warden fought barehanded, he has taken down every challenger he's come across. But how will he fare in against another proven warrior from another legendary order? Lords and ladies I give you one of the best from the Silent Sisters, Hanashan!"
The crowed cheers and chants Hanashan's name as she silently but proudly enters the ring, but Aedan can't hear them. He could only hear the pounding of his own heart pumping his anger through his veins, fueling his bloodlust. He knew of the Silent Sisters and their practice of cutting out their tongues to honor their founder. How everyone of their order had to win a proving bare handed just to become a member. This would be fun.
Hanashan stood with a two-handed greatsword in her grip, but she quickly discarded it and assumed a barehanded stance to match her unarmed opponent. She would face him honorably. It wasn't going to save her.