Chapter 12 : Dwarven Thugs
" 'Tis true what they say about the stamina of Grey Wardens." Morrigan remarked as they disentangled themselves from each other and got dressed.
"What, there are stories?" Darrian asked, a brow raised as he put on his pitiful leather armor. I'm gonna have an audience with a prince and I look like trash...At least I'll have that afterglow thing going for me..
"If there is not, there should be." Morrigan smirked, sauntering out of the room, Duncan at her heels.
One of these days that mabari is going to remember he's my dog.
Darrian sighed, but couldn't help smiling like a child. What had just happened, he had not expected. The softness of her skin, the urgency of her touch, the huskiness of her voice...
"Are you coming?" Morrigan has stuck her head back into the room, looking slightly annoyed.
"oh! yes! That.. of course.. I'm coming!" Darrian rambled before joining her.
Maker..
Downstairs the others were waiting for them. Sten lookes stoic as always, but Leliana had a smile gracing her lips.
"Well, well. You finally decided to join us?" She remarked, her gaze following Darrian and Morrigan as they took their seats. "We thought we would have to go up there after you... But we didn't want to interrupt."
"Ah, looks like the chantry taught you some manners than." Darrian smirked back at Leliana before turning to Alistair. "So, when do we meet the prince?"
"This afternoon. Shortly in fact." Alistair mumbled, unable to keep his gaze on Darrian.
"What's wrong?" Darrian asked.
" 'Twould seem that someone did try to interrupt.." Morrigan looked amused. "Are you intimidated now, Alistair? You shouldn't be, I did leave him in one piece after all.." Alistair's face turned bright red as he shook his head. "Did you want advice, than? Darrian seems rather knowledgeable and I am sure he would impart his knowledge onto you if you only asked? I recommend that thing he did with this tongue, did you see that part?"
"ENOUGH!" Darrian shouted, his own ears now cherry red. "Maker's breath woman!"
"Ah, I see. You don't wish to share your secrets, I understand. They are quite good, keeping them to yourself is probably for the best."
Darrian suddenly stood up. "Alistair, Duncan and I will go meet with Bhelen."
Morrigan looked up at Darrian with an arched brow. "Not I?"
"I don't trust you to keep your mouth closed at the moment, woman." Darrian said honestly.
"W-wait. Before we go.." Alistair began, reaching under the table and pulling out a package. He handed it to Darrian. "This is for you. Leliana, Sten, Morrigan and I pitched in to get you this. Duncan tried to pitch in too, but all he had was a lamb bone.."
"Rauff!" Duncan barked happily, his little knobbly tail wagging.
"When did you get this?" Darrian shot a glance at Morrigan. "And when did you have time to pitch in for anything.."
"You are a heavy sleeper." She replied with a shrug.
Darrian ripped open the package, and inside was a fine suit of leather armor. The leather was dark, almost black, and the fastenings were glistening silver. It came with boots, gloves, and the most ridiculous hat he had ever seen.
The elf was speechless. His mouth gaped open uselessly as he donned the ugly hat. Morrigan, Alistair and Leliana snickered. Even Sten looked amused.
"The merchant said it was called Shadow of the Empire." Alistair informed him. "Though, of what Empire, I have no idea. I don't think the merchant did either. But its your size, thanks to Morrigan."
I am not going to ask how she knows that. I'm better off not knowing. At least the hat covers my red ears..
At once, Darrian began removing his torn leather armor, gaining a lot of glances from the other patrons in the tavern and a wolf whistle he was certain came from Clare. He than slipped on the Shadow, and smiled appreciatively.
"Now I look ready to meet a prince.. Or assassinate someone." Darrian shrugged as he admired himself. "Or both. You never know with politics."
"You should see politics in Orlais." Leliana shook her head.
"Well... thanks." He said, looking a bit embarrassed, and this time not because of Morrigan.
"Do you best not to ruin this one, mmm?" Morrigan warned. "We will not be replacing it."
"A ball of sunshine, isn't she?" Alistair remarked after they had left Tapsters and were heading towards the heavy doors that led to the Diamond Quarter.
Darrian shrugged.. "No, not particularly. She's something.. I just haven't figured out what yet."
"How about crazy? Evil? Manipulative?" Alistair offered, grinning slightly as he counted them off on his fingers.
The elf poked the other Warden sharply on the temple. "Enough from you. All those things could be said about me too, you know?'
Alistair considered for a moment. "That I guess you're perfect for each other... As terrifying as that thought is.." He shivered.
"Look, we're not together or whatever it is you seem to think." Darrian responded. Alistair gave him an incredulous look. "We've... enjoyed... each other, to put it nicely. But I don't think Morrigan has any designs on me after that. When I cease to be what she wants.." Darrian shrugged.
"Uh huh." Alistair sounded as if he did not quite believe what the elf was saying. "So you have no designs on her than?"
Darrian sighed sadly but did not respond. They spent the rest of the walk to the Royal Palace in complete, and awkward silence.
"Wow. That's..Impressive." Darrian stared up at the magnificent stone structure that was the Royal Palace. Like Tapsters it appeared to be carved straight from the rock face. The carvings on the palace were even more elaborate and glinted with touches of gold and silver.
"Well you know what they say about dwarven architecture.." Alistiar began.
"No, I don't. What do they say?" Darrian smirked.
Alistair shrugged. "I have no idea. I was hoping you knew. Something about strength or something."
"Hold." The guard at the door said, holding his hand out to block their path.
"We're the Grey Wardens. Here to see Bhelen?" Alistair said, questioningly.
"Ah yes. We were told to be expecting you. Right this way." The guard opened the grand doors and led them through. The inside was much more impressive than the outside, and that was saying something. Though the walls and floor were made of the same cold stone, the Royal Palace gave off a feeling of refinement. Expansive red and gold rugs were laid out on the floor, fine tapestries and paintings adorned the walls. Stout stone statues of dwarves were in every room, though what they were for, Darrian had no clue.
A place to put your hat?
Darrian did not have much time to ponder the dwarven statues, as soon he was face to face with the red bearded dwarf he saw when he first arrived in Orzammar.
"Ah, the Grey Wardens! Orzammar is honored to have such fine guests." Bhelen beamed, with the false smile of a true politician.
Darrian was not buying it. "Yeah. Sure. Look, we need aid against the blight. These treaties say Orzammar owes us." He shoved them in Bhelen's face, who pushed them aside.
"Yes, I have seen the treaties in the records. What you say is true. However, until I gain my throne, I can not send you many troops." Bhelen sighed, dejectedly.
Darrian and Alistair exchanged a glance, and Duncan whimpered.
"Than how do we get you that throne? We've already done some of your dirty work." Darrian asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "The blight is what is important, not your stupid politics."
"I know, I know. I have told the assembly this, but the remain deadlocked." Bhelen agreed. "However... if I were to say.. have a threat to Orzammar taken care of.. They might be more willing to send the troops you need." A greedy smirk appeared on the dwarf's face.
"What is it?" Darrian asked with a sigh. I knew there would be something. Doesn't want to risk his own men, so he's sending us. Lovely.
"The Carta has been expanding as of late, and its causing trouble. I want you to take care of them." Bhelen said simply.
"What's a Carta?"
Bhelen sighed. "Its an organized band of thugs, operating out of Dust Town. They are led by a woman named Jarvia. Kill her, kill the Carta and I'll give you your troops."
"Fine. Fine!" Darrian threw his hands up in the air. "I wanted to get shanked today anyway!"
Alistair held back a chuckle, and bowed to Bhelen before both of the Wardens left.
"I really need to give you some lessons on how to deal with royalty." Alistair smirked.
"No thanks. I deal with them just fine."Darrian grumbled as they headed back to Tapsters.
"No, really, you don't."
"Shut it. I'm not in the mood." Darrian insisted as they rejoined the others. Minutes later they were sat around a table topped with a good selection of stews, breads and ales.
"So this prince wants us to do his dirty work?" Morrigan asked with a raised brow as she raised a piece of buttered dark bread to her lips.
"Wants Alistiar and me, yes." Darrian shrugged, frowning a bit. "I knew something like this would happen."
" 'Tis the way of the world. Scratch their back, they will scratch ours."
"You make it sound do simple." Darrian smirked.
" 'Tis simple."
"Anyway!" Alistair interrupted loudly. "We all shouldn't go tramping around Dust Town. It
might put the Carta on their guard."
"I agree." Darrian considered, scratching his chin as he did so. Man, thinking would me much cooler with a beard to stroke... He glanced at a dwarf jealousy before turning back to his companions.
"Than I say I go. Alistair, Morrigan, and Sten should accompany me." Darrian suggested.
"Agreed." Sten nodded, getting up from the table. "Let us get it over with."
"I concur." Morrigan stood as well. Duncan whimpered, giving Darrian a pitiful look.
"Look, stay with Leliana. See if you two can overhear anything important, all right?" The elf gave the dog a pat on the head. He than looked to Leliana. "I want you to keep an ear to the ground regarding Harrowmont. We need to know what the opposition is up too."
Leliana nodded. "Leave it to me."
"Good." Darrian nodded, taking a last drink of ale before leading the others out of Tapsters.
The made it to Dust Town quickly, with Darrian dreading every step. Who wants to go back to the place they were shanked?
Dust Town was just as he had left it, dirty, dark and smelling of something terrible. The only change was the position of the beggars. One in paticular caught Darrian's eye. She had not been there the day before, and she had fresh wrappings around her knees. She looked up at them as they approached.
"Got some coin for old Nadezda?" The dwarf asked. She had a look about her of someone who was once proud, but that pride had been taken from them. Darrian had seen that look a lot in the Alienage. He kneeled down beside her, taking a soveriegn out of his pouch.
"I've got coin, if you've got information." He offered, showing her the gold. Her eyes lit up.
"What do ya wanna know? If I know it, the information is yours!"
"How do I get into the Carta's base?"
"Well now. Jarvia made some foreign enemies? Or are you working for one of those nobles?" Nadeza shrugged. "It don't matter. I used to run with Jarvia, in the Carta. Had a fit of conscience, and she broke my knee caps."
Alistair winced.
"There are entrances to the hideout all around Dust Town. Changes every day which one will work." She dug into her pocket, pulling out a token and handing it to Darrian. It was the size of a gold soveriegn, with what looked like a skeletal finger carved into it. "Now, I dont know what door it will work though.. But if ya got sharp eyes, ya can find it. There will a slot, just big 'nough for the token."
Darrian nodded. "Thank you Nadezda." He handed her the soveriegn. "Get yourself something to eat."
"I will feast, and think of you. Thank you!"
Morrigan made a disapproving face, and Darrian ignored her.
"Lets inspect these doors, hmm?" They spent hours going to the many doors in Dust Town, none that opened, without finding the slot.
"Maker." Darrian sighed, hanging his head after he finished running his hands over a door.
"Any luck?" He called out to the others.
" 'Tis is most difficult." Morrigan said, sounding frustrated. She had conjured a small ball of flame inorder to illuminate the door she was inspecting.
"I can't see a darn-wait.. is that it? No... I think that was made by a knife.."Alistair commented, still inspecting a door.
Sten remained silent.
"Maybe we're looking to high?" Darrian suggested, kneeling down. The slots were made for dwarves..They wouldn't be at the top..
"Basra!" Sten called out in his native language. He had informed Darrian that it meant foriegner or something similar. So when Sten called out, Darrian went over to him. "I have found it." The qunari was on his knees, tracing his finger over a very slight slot in the door.
"Great!" Darrian exclaimed, feeling relieved. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get out of Orzammar..
He beckoned Morrigan and Alistair over to him. "Be ready. They'll probably have guards."
" 'Tis would be foolish to leave the entrance unguarded." Morrigan agreed, taking her staff in her hands.
Darrian took out the finger bone token, hesitated a moment, than slipped the token into the slot.
He was rewarded by the door creaking open, exposing a dark hallway. Well, this is foreboding.
"Morrigan, some light?" He whispered as they entered and the door closed behind them.
Morrigan summoned her flame again, illuminating the passageway. It surprised Darrian to note that Sten did not have to stoop. High ceilings seemed to be a common thing with dwarves. There was a door about twenty feet away, so they went towards it. Darrian took the handle to see if it would open. The latch clanged, not opening.
"Whose there?!" A harsh voice called from the other side. Darrian took a step back, startled. He had been about to take out his lockpicks, and hadn't expected someone to call out to him. It must be a guard. He tried to think of something to say, when Sten mumbled something in his native tongue.
"Oh, a qunari. Must be a mercenary. Come on." The door was unlocked from the inside, and Darrian and Sten exchanged a confused glance.
"Go on." Darrian urged the Qunari, thinking that if Sten went first, the others might be able to catch them off guard. Sten obliged and pushed open the door.
"Well, what are your orders?" A rough looking dwarf with the same facial tattoo as the rest of the casteless.
"Katara." Sten said stoically, hefting his gigantic blade and bringing the hilt down hard on the top of the dwarf's head, sending him to the ground.
"What the-" The other dwarves in the rooms brought out their weapons as Darrian, Morrigan and Alistair charged into the room. Chaos insued. Morrigan was flinging spells with ferocity, Alistair cleared the path with a sweep of his shield and Darrian ducked and dodged, using stealth to deliver painful blows to the most sensitive areas. It was over in minutes, a dozen dead dwarves lay around them, along with an elf in mage robes and another qunari.
"Tal-Vashoth." Sten spat, looking at the body of the dead qunari.
"That's... the mercenaries, right? The ones outside the Qun?" Darrian wracked his brain before coming up with the answer.
"Yes." Sten pointedly turned away fom the corpse and then they continued on. They made their way through the hideout, killing any one who raised arms against them. Soon, they were loaded down with loot and soaked with the blood of dwarven thugs.
"If my direction sense is working... are we going.. up?" Darrian asked as they made their way through a smooth stone tunnel that forced Sten to stoop. The elf was tempted to tell the qunari he could go back to Tapsters when they reached a rather fancy door. The door was unlocked, and inside waited a large group of Carta dwarves, a snobbish, superior looking female standing in the center of the room.
"What do we have here... The latest hired sword sent to seek us out?" Jarvia sneered.
"You could say Jarvia?" Darrian sent a glance back at Morrigan, nodding slightly. The witch took a step back, hiding herself halfway in the shadows as she began to quietly chant.
"Who wants to know?" She barked back, eyeing them all. "Who hired you? Harrowmont? Bhelen? Those nobles finally realize that there will be no king as long as Orzammar has its queen?"
"... Why do we always run into crazy people?" Alistair asked, shooting Darrian and amused glance.
The elf shrugged. "Its a gift?"
"I think you should return it." Alistair chuckled. Jarvia looked rather cross, it was obvious she didn't like being ignore, and it was obvious neither Alistair or Darrian planned to answer her question.
"It really doesn't matter, you've killed my Carta, and I'll get revenge for every drop spilled! I'll get revenge a hundred fold!" She shouted, raising her weapon as a signal to her minions to attack Darrian and the others.
Unfortunately for Jarvia, Morrigan acted first, finishing her spell and causing a bitterly cold wind to start swirling in the center of the room. The icy swirl expanded, and the Carta's charge was slowed, some were even halted or knocked off their feet as the blizzard intensified. On cue, Alistair charged forward, bashing the first Carta member with his shield, following up with a swing of his longsword. With a sweep of his blade, Sten sent several dwarves flying right back into the blizzard's radius. Darrian's target was Jarvia. He allowed Sten and Alistair to draw the attention of the dwarven mob as he skirted around them. The cold wind blasted against Darrian's skin as he fought against the blizzard. His feet slid as he fought to keep his footing, his eyes searching for the prize. Like Morrigan, Jarvia had stayed at the back of the room, out of the radius of the blades. She was still within the blizzard, hunkered down to lessen the damage she took from the flying pieces of ice.
The elf's timing was spot on, and as the blizzard began to die down he darted forward, catching Jarvia by surprise as he seized her from behind and placed his blade at her throat. He expected terror when he looked down into her eyes, fear at least. Instead he saw smugness, and he followed Jarvia's gaze as they flickered towards the entrance of the room... and to Morrigan.
Time seem to freeze as Darrian heard the twang of a bow string, saw Morrigan turn to throw fire at the enemy she was engaging, than he heard the scream as the arrow pierced her chest. Unaware of what he was doing, Darrian cast Jarvia aside, rushing back towards Morrigan as the witch fell backwards. His feet were as heavy as lead as he moved forward.
Morrigan! No! His thoughts cried out, unable to voice the words. His heart stopped beating as he fell to his knees besides her, and she did not move. He was unaware of the rest of the combat, focusing on brushing the dark hair away from Morrigan's face, pleading soft words as he held her close. "No, please.. You can call me foolish any time you want.. You can boss me around, I don't care.."
It took Alistair, bleeding from a nasty headwound clapping him on the shoulder to snap him out of his shock. "She's breathing, look."
Darrian glanced down, and saw her chest gently rising and falling, though somewhat erratically. "We need to get out of here." The elf stood, wincing, finally realizing an arrow had pierced his calf as well.
"Let me." Sten offered, a random act of kindness. He lifted Morrigan into his arms, as Alistair moved to support the elf.
"I'm sorry.. I blew it.. I could of killed her.." Darrian rambled. Alistair grinned.
"You did. You didn't realize, did you?"Alistair jerked his head towards Jarvia's corpse.
"You cut her throat as you cast her aside. I swear I've never seen anyone more so fast."
"... I didn't feel like I was moving fast..."
"Uh huh." Alistair cast a knowing glance at the qunari and witch. "So... she's nothing to you?"
"Shut up." Darrian mumbled. "Shut up, not another word."
Alistair grinned annoyingly the whole way back to Tapsters. Bhelen sent a healer, though not a magical one, once he heard of the outcome in the Carta hideout. Leliana acted as a nurse, following the dwarven healer's orders as the tended to Alistair's head and Morrigan's arrow wound. Darrian had refused to let them near him until the other two were tended to and sure to recover.
"You should of seen him run across that room!" Alistair said rather loudly outside the door to Morrigan and Darrian's room.
"Oooh! I bet it was very romantic!" Leliana cooed.
"I told you to shut it!" Darrian shouted from the bed, throwing a pillow at the door. There was a burst of giggles, than silence.
" 'Twas a poor ending to the battle, was it not?" Morrigan peeked through heavy lids.
"Oh, I don't know.. I killed the mob leader, we're all in one piece..." Darrian mumbled, turning his head to look at her. He reached over and gently stroked her face. "I'm glad you're all right."
"What of you? Surely you got out unscathed?" She raised an eyebrow.
Darrian chuckled. "Come on, I'm a clumsy oaf, apparently. Got shot in the leg while I ran to-" His voice stopped, his throat dry. His cheeks flushed and he glanced away.
"Ran.. ran to what? Jarvia?" Morrigan asked, her eyes closing and her voice softening.
"Yes. Jarvia." Darrian cupped her face in his hand and gently pressed his lips to her forehead. Because she was the only thing I was concerned about...