One

I'm dizzy...about to faint. I feel so light headed. The sweat keeps stinging my eyes, and blurring them to the point of almost zero vision. But honestly, it doesn't matter. I don't need my eyes right here. They're almost useless right now. All that matters is summoning the strength to keep the pickaxe going at a steady pace. I've found the rhythm...yes I can feel it. As long as I can keep this pace, I should be able to last. The other men, they've all but given up. Not me. I can't afford to. I've got a family back home on the surface. And as long as I keep working, I'll make the money needed to move out of the slums, and into Redcliffe, just like Altana and I have always dreamed of. With the baby on the way, I can't let myself stop. For the sake of my family, I must press on. forget the pain, and focus on the goal. I just hope the guard notices my hard labor, or this may be all for nothing.

"Hey, you there!" Speak of the devil. "It's time to take a break, son. You've been at it for days now, you're going to kill yourself."

I ignore responding. It takes too much energy. And my energy must be conserved to make more progress on the tunnels. We're tunneling our way underground. By calculations, we should be directly under Denerim. We are tunneling off of a path in the Deep Roads that should lead to the long-abandoned dwarven Farkahn Thaig. The plan is to be the first established human occupied Thaig in the Deep Roads. Technically speaking it's dwarven territory, considering they have dominion underground, but it's a long since abandoned Thaig that hasn't even been breached yet. Which is why we're here. To dig our way into Farkahn Thaig. And we don't get fully paid until the job is done. And the more you work, the more you earn, plus whatever loot is to be found in the Thaig is fair game as well.

"Hey, are you listening to me? By the Maker, you don't look very good. I'll go and get the doc."

Doc referring to the mage whom they recruited to tend to the laborer's possible injuries. And a nasty knife-ear to boot. I never trusted those damn elves, and I sure as hell won't start now. Wait...what's that? A rumble. A deep rumble. Wasn't very loud, but subtle. Bah, I gotta quit getting distracted. I have to keep going, for my family's sake.

"He's this way Doc, hurry!"

I can hear them coming. Damn, I guess I'll have to turn in for now. I could use a break, though. I'm no use to my family overworking myself, and becoming a vegetable. Well, no feelings that a swig of ale won't cure.

And just then, a fierce rumbling noise thundered throughout the tunnels. And the roof of the tunnel began to collapse.

My body is too weak, I've got to get out of here.

"Through here! Hurry, this way!" It's the man with the long beard. I started to run right after him through a little crevice in the wall. My legs are buckling from being on my feet for so long. But I have to keep moving. Always keep moving.

"C'mon, I think I see an opening ahead!" He moves at such a faster pace than mine, it's hard to keep up. Luckily the fear of being buried under tons of stone is keeping my more agile than I thought I'd be. How do those damn dwarves stand living down here all the time. I'm not claustrophobic, but this is ridiculous.

The man with the long beard led the pair out of the narrow passageway, and into what seemed like an opening. But the adrenaline was too much for the man, and he ran directly under falling debris, crushing him instantly.

Maker, give me the strength and luck to make it out of here, please I beg of you. I hesitate as I make my way over the blood-stained rubble. Now, to keep moving. But I must move swiftly, with keeping a balanced mind and think before I move or it could be the end of me. Damn, there is so much dust in the air, it's clogging my airways. Now it's a race against the clock. I better make it out of here. No...I WILL make it out of here. My future depends on it!

A sudden burst of speed went over Berethor as he surged onward as fast as his legs would take him.

Wait, what's that I hear? A faint cry in the distance? No it can't be, I must be hearing things. No, there it is again. Under the rubble to the left over the gap, who is that?

From beneath a pile of fallen rock, a hand pokes out and waves frantically.

Damn! My mind says to keep going, but my heart says to help that poor soul. Curse my good nature!

Berethor gathered himself, and leapt across the chasm onto the landing beyond.

"Hold on, friend. I am trying to free you!"

(muffled voice)

Blasted rock. I need to release him! I'm close.

Berethor grunted as he picked the last of the rock off of the figure.

"Ah, thank you my good sir. I thought for sure my trip to the Maker was sealed."

Of all my luck, it's the blasted knife-ear! Curse you Maker for mocking me this way!

"You just keep your distance knife-ear, and we won't have problems. That is last favor I ever do for your kind."

"Understood, thank you."

This damn elf has manners. It's almost mocking to me. One false move from him, and I'll trip him just as quickly as I released him from his fate.

"Would you like to introduce yourself?"

"We're gonna skip the formalities until we get out of this blasted place. So keep quiet, and try to keep up. I will not be turning back to help you again."

"Understood. I will try not to be a bother."

The duo took off in the direction Berethor had originally intended.

If we don't get out of here fast, we're sure to be crushed by the falling debris. And if that doesn't do it, our lungs are sure to fill up with dust and suffocate us. Curse it all! Just gotta keep moving.

Berethor and the elf ran through narrow corridors, shimmied along steep ledges, and jumped gaping chasms. Yet still they could not find a clear way out of the collapsing tunnels.

Damn it all. This could be the end. I am close to collapsing myself.

Berethor stopped and slumped against a wall.

"Is there something wrong?" Asked the elf.

"I just don't have enough strength to carry on. I have been down, digging in these tunnels for several days with little rest. And all of it was for nothing. We are not escaping with our lives."

"For someone who has shown such dedication towards his work, and thoughtful enough to rescue a fellow comrade when you could have ran ahead, you seem to have abandoned the idea of getting out of here pretty quickly!"

"Trust me, don't think so highly of yourself, knife-ear. If I had known it was you, I might've left you there to be sealed away in your rocky tomb!"

" But you didn't."

"Bah, leave me be. There is little hope of getting out of here, and that is if I actually had the strength to keep going."

"Well, you saved me. A complete stranger. I think it's perhaps time I repaid the favor."

The elf squatted down. "Jump on."

"And ride on your back to safety? Ha! We'll die quicker than if we stay here."

"You'll never know unless you try! Now please, hang on!"

Despite his stubbornness, Berethor grappled himself on the elf's back. "Well, at least it'll be a swifter death."

I'm sorry Altana...I wish I had the strength to get myself to you. But I don't. I'd given it all I could...I'm so sorry...

Then everything went black.

Two

Berethor awoke with a splitting headache.

Ugh, why does my head hurt so much. I feel like it's being crushed, there's so much pain.

"Ah, good morning sir." The elf was sitting upright adjacent to Berethor's position. "Sleep well? He had a sly grin on his face.

"Where are we?"

"We are in still underground, unfortunately. But we are someplace safe. Well, at least I was told that we were safe for a while."

"Did you get us to safety? You carried me and still managed to find some shelter? I find that hard to believe."

"Well, we did have some help. In fact, he should back in a couple minutes."

Of course the knife-ear had help. I am not surprised, seeing as he was already clumsy without someone on his back.

"We are still doomed, knife-ear. Fate has been set. This will be our tomb."

A different voice chimed in. More stern. "Perhaps you should be a little more thankful to your rescuer. He got you here, didn't he?" A figure came into view.

He seems a man of no more than 40. And by the look of him, he appears to be a warrior of some kind, though the insignia I do not recognize. A blue gryphon perhaps?

"And who are you?"

"My name is Varen. Veteran of the Grey Warden's."

"A Grey Warden! No wonder I didn't recognize your insignia. People thought they faded into legend many years ago."

"A common thought, and quite the unfortunate one at that."

"What are you doing down here, anyway?"

"I am here to finish what I started. Each Grey Warden's final mission."

"What is the final mission?" The elf's ears perked up.

"It is not important. But what is important now, is getting you out of here. Fear not, I know a way out of here. Though it is not close by. I advise you rest up before we set off. I found a path that should get us into the right direction. I can take the first watch while you sleep."

First watch? Why would he set up a watch? Are we in more danger than we think?

The elf looked at Berethor. "Kalethas."

"Hmm?"

"My name is Kalethas."

"You're still a knife-ear to me. All the same, I say."

"I'm sorry you see it that way, sir."

Berethor flipped over on his mat. "Berethor. My name is Berethor."

"A pleasure, Berethor."

This knife-ear is making it difficult for me to dislike him, other than the fact that he is an elf. His mannerisms are proper, unlike many of their kind. It's almost admirable. Maybe travels with him won't be so awful after all.

Berethor drifted back into a deep slumber.

The shadow grew larger, the closer he got. Berethor could see his house off in the distance. He kept running, as fast as his legs would allow. But the more he ran, the larger the shadow became. His wife and newborn child in her arms, he assumed. They need rescuing! But seemed to recede farther into the distance. What was this monstrous shadow growing larger with every step? No, it's too late now. I must save them. I can't stray from the path given to me. They will not be harmed! I won't allow it! Berethor reached the pair, his wife giving a pale stare. He tried to embrace her. But his hands went right through her like a ghost. He then gazed down at his newborn child. And what he found was no child, but a creature of horror with a distorted, demonic face, screeching at an incredible decibel. He then looked back at his blank staring wife, and noticed she too had shape-shifted into this disgusting and disturbing creature. He tried desperately to run away, but the looming shadow grew ever larger, until it seemed to have swallowed everything into darkness. He sank to his knees to accept his fate, but saw the figure of his wife moving towards him. He was paralyzed. Ever closer she pursues, until she is within actual sight. She looked normal. With that soft, beautiful face he remembers so well. She was within inches of his face now. Then the face he fell in love with years ago, immediately morphed into the demon's portrait, and exclaims, "WHY DID YOU LEAVE US BERETHOR?! YOU LEFT US TO DIE ALONE!" And all went silent.

"Are you alright, Berethor?"

Kalethas was looming over his face.

"Back off, knife-ear! Gimme some room to breathe for Maker's sake."

That dream again. It's been plaguing me for weeks now. What does it mean? Why does the Maker taunt me so?

"Get up, Berethor. We are to set off soon, and you must be properly equipped." Varen set down a pack on the floor. He emptied out its contents. "Here, these are for you."

A short sword unfurled out of a piece of cloth. Among several vials that were filled with liquid. "This is what I have to offer, a simple short sword for you. Purely for self defense. I hope you never have to use it, and these are minor healing potions. They will suffice on the trek, I hope. Otherwise, as a last resort we will need Kalethas to lend his powers to us."

"Are you expecting us to run into trouble, Warden?"

"Unfortunately, the instability of the Deep Roads isn't the only threat down here."

"Wait, if you are a Grey Warden, you must fight the Darkspawn. For that is why the Grey Warden's exist. So, you expect us to run into darkspawn?" Berethor notices a petrified look on Kalethas' face.

"Although unlikely, it is still a possibility. And I want you two to be as best equipped as I can make you. But I had no intention of finding company down here, so I did not pack better gear."

Kalethas tucked the dagger Varen gave him away under his robes. "I hope we never have to use them."

"As do I, but we can't be too careful. The way shouldn't take more than a day or two."

A day or two?! What about my wife? Word must've gotten out about the collapse. She must think I'm dead. No, she will have faith. Her faith in me is strong. And I must go back to her. For our family. For our future.

"Ok, Varen. Lead the way."

And the trio left the campsite and ventured into the darkness.