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Blackpowder Dominance	By : TropicalFool Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 2888 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Dragon Age & all characters are owned by BioWare & EA, not me. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
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It was the vibration that first brought him to consciousness. A deep thrumming that settled in his bones. As he awakened further, Anders realized that there was sound to accompany the vibration. Qunari words sung in a low, but melodic, bass voice. Sleepy and content, the residue of the emrus-din still singing in his veins, he concentrated on the meaning of the words he was hearing.
It was a tale of spring meadows bedazzled by flowers, dark forests cloaked in viridian moss, storm tossed seas arrayed in foamy whiteness, and lost love. Yesterday, to hear such a tune in the Qunari language would have surprised him, but no more.
As he became aware of his surroundings, he found that he was cradled in the Arishok's arm, his head resting on the massive chest that was reverberating with its song. He could feel every part of the pattern tracing his body, but it had faded from pain to a delicious sensitivity. The contrast between the decorated areas and those left bare made every small movement stimulating.
He had awakened stiff, as often happened, and idly stroked himself as he listened. As the song wound its way through the last refrain, he heard a chuckle and strained his neck to look up at the Qunari who was watching his self ministrations with amusement.
"Little mage," the giant rumbled, "you were better than expected. You have earned your recipe. May the death it brings be satisfying to you."
At these words, Anders stopped what he was doing and turned over, climbing up a bit onto the Arishok's chest and supporting himself on his folded arms so that he could look into those foreign eyes.
His brows lowered in thought, the mage replied, "I hope that I won't have to use it. That there will be no deaths. I only wish to be prepared."
The giant laughed more heartily at this, wiped his mouth, then said, "Surely you cannot be so naive. Gaatlok brings death. It is its only reason for being. It is not possible that you will have the recipe and not use it for destruction. Are you sure that this is what you want, or would you prefer some other reward?"
Justice had been passive since the previous night; perhaps its was the expenditure of all of his magic in that last glorious climax. In any case, Anders felt more at peace than he hand in many months. Did he really want to do this? To have in place the means for mass destruction? Was it the right course? Would the result be better than the status quo? He was musing over these questions when he felt a stab of blue white energy course through him, stiffing his body and his resolve. Yes. Yes, he needed to follow his plans. The gaatlok would only be used if there was no other way to initiate change, but it must be in place.
The Arishok, watching with interest, shook his head sadly. He liked this fey human, but it was obvious that he was possessed. If he submitted to the Qun, he would be slain in the next moment, for a being so out of balance was an offense to order. But the mage was not Qunari and seemed to seek only the destruction of his own kind. And he had been true to his bargain.
"Very well," the Arishok sadly capitulated. "I can see that this, your demon must have, if not you. Listen and I will tell you. There are only the three ingredients, not difficult to obtain. You do realize that you are bound to utmost secrecy. You must tell no one, ever, of this formula. You do not want to know the punishment for breaking your word."
Somewhat numbly, Anders nodded. It didn't really matter what the punishment was, since he would not break his word, to the Arishok or to Justice.
The Qunari began his recitation, his eyes on the ceiling. "Sala petre is the main ingredient. It will make up three quarters of your mixture. You understand that it is common. It is found in well aged waste as a crystal. Cellar walls, or especially those of sewers, are where you must search.
"The second ingredient is simple charcoal. This you want to be a bit more than half of the quarter left. It should be close to three of five parts of that quarter of the total. That is for propelling purposes. If you wish a more explosive mixture, use half and half of the second and third, but always only one quarter of the total for the two combined.
"The third is the most difficult to obtain. Drakestone is a yellow substance, not really stone, but rather also a crystal. It is found where dragons dwell, usually adhering to the wall or floor of caverns. You will know it by its bright yellow color and crystalline structure.
"These three ingredients you will grind into a fine powder and there you have gaatlok. But one other thing you must understand, in itself it is not explosive. Come, I will demonstrate."
Anders climbed over the Qunari and stood waiting. The Arishok rose, shaking his bulk like a giant dog, and pulled a small leather pouch from the game table. He poured a mound of black power onto the table, then, taking a spill from the mantle, lit it from the lamp. He held the flame to the powder which spit and burned with a great deal of acrid dark grey smoke.
"You see," he said to the waiting mage. "No explosion. The powder must be confined. It then expands and blows apart whatever it was confined within. In this way it may propel a projectile or destroy surrounding structures. I shall demonstrate."
So saying, he pulled from a cabinet a small box made of thick rigid paper. This box he packed tightly with the powder, showing Anders that it was filled, then added a bit of cotton frayed from a rope to make it even tighter. Closing and securing the box, he left a trail of power following a string which he threaded through a small hole.
"Now you will stand back," he instructed as he lit the crude fuse and joined Anders at the far side of the room. As the fuse burned down, there was a deafening sound and the box disintegrated, sending bits of burning paper throughout the room. These were quickly extinguished by a large Qunari foot.
Looking at the stunned Anders, the Arishok said, "It will blow apart anything that is confining it; wood, pottery, even metal. It is there that the destructive power lies. If you want to send a projectile forth, you use a tube with only one opening and pack that opening with rope fray or some other soft material. The explosion will then send anything sitting on the powder in that direction. For a more general explosion, you have just seen the method."
Thoughtfully, the mage said, "I understand. Please, allow me to repeat the formula to you." He did so, to the Arishok's approval.
The Qunari then said. "You must go. The day is well underway. I shall miss what we had, little mage, but if you wish to continue our discussions, I would be pleased."
Hearing this, Anders realized that he had been dreaming all morning of returning for more pleasures like those they had shared last night. He was confused. Had not the Arishok just said that he was pleased by the mage? Thinking back over the night, Anders was aware that he was as addicted as ever Fenris could be. There was nothing in his life that compared with what he had experienced at the hands and cock and oh, that tongue, of the Arishok. He had simply assumed that there would be many many more nights.
Searching for the right words, he asked, "But don't you want to, um, do the things we did together? Was it not pleasing to you?"
Smiling sadly, the Qunari explained, "I see that the elf deceived you in many ways, or at least neglected important parts of your education. Darthas-Dus is for one night only. Nothing that was done in that time can be repeated. It is the way of the Qun." At Anders devastated expression, the Arishok stepped forward and took the mage gently in his arms, whispering, "And consider. Is it not better this way? Is there anything that we could do together that could compare with last night? This is the wisdom of the Qun, which binds me."
Mustering his arguments, though he knew them hopeless, Anders replied, trying to keep the whine out of his voice, "But what of Darthas-Dun? Surely it is much the same? And then it is for life, so there must be many many nights, not just the one? Am I right?"
Stroking the mage's hair, the Arishok said, "If it were Darthas-Dun, things would be handled differently, each night building to the next and the next. For Darthas-Dus all is given and all is received within the confines of the one night. It is much like the gaatlok, passion contained and set alight to explode in that one glorious outpouring. But like the gaatlok, Darthas-Dus blows itself apart. There is nothing left of that sort between us. I am sorry, I too will think fondly of our time together, but so it is and so it shall be."
In shock, Anders donned his clothes and left, turning only at the door to say, "Thank you for the recipe. And…" As he tried to continue, to thank the Qunari for everything else, he felt his voice break and his eyes tear. He fled down the hall instead, running through the compound to knowing stares.
Outside the gates, he paused to regain control of himself. He could still feel the effects of the emrus-din, and everything, the sandstone buildings, the people, the canopies over shops, looked brighter and more colorful then normal. He made his way to Lowtown, stopping at a haberdashery to buy a pair of soft black calfskin gloves to cover the brilliant red marks on his hands. The merchant knew the mage well, for he had a large family and little money, and Anders had treated many of his children in the Darktown clinic. Seeing the marks, he started to ask a question, but recoiled a an uncharacteristic growl from the gentle man.
Anders needed a drink… badly. He wondered if he could risk the Hanged Man—this early in the day it was possible that no one he knew would be there—but settled on lonely imbibing back at the clinic, which he was determined would remain closed at least for the rest of the day. He needed time to think, to consider the gaatlock and its uses and to reconcile to himself what had happened with the Arishok.
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Blackpowder Dominance