Leske led them to an ambush. He did not put a lot of thought into it, as he sent common thugs to deal with them. Brosca got the true location of the hideout by threatening one survivor, then would have killed him, had not Elissa pleaded with him to set him free.
So off they went to an abandoned-looking house, where they fought waves and waves of Carta thugs inside twisting tunnels. They cleared each and every one of the rooms, not sparing even Jarvia's pet brontos. They reached the last room and went in, where their target with her lackeys was waiting for them, together with a former friend.
Jarva crossed her arms and glowered at them all. "If it isn't our little runaway. Came back to finish the job?" she asked Brosca spitefully.
"Aye. But ye gotta wait. I gotta talk with me man," Brosca said then turned to Leske. "Leske, ye son of a nug. Whaddye think yer doin, sellin me out?
"What was I supposed to do?" Leske said, looking at him with resentment. "You were gone and Jarvia's pullin the strings. We ain't got your luck."
"I was gone 'cause ye said ye gonna take care of me sister!" Brosca roared at him.
"You ain't here! You didn't know what happened," Leske shouted back. "When Beraht died, Jarvia came out on top. She's got the swords, she's got the coin and she's got the bed where I sleep," Leske said. Brosca searched for any sign of regret Leske might have felt in breaking a promise to his former friend, but found none.
"If you were here, you've done the same," Leske said, in a weary tone Brosca knew need no more explanation. He knew what people are capable of when at the end of their rope. That does not mean he will accept it. Leske chose Jarvia inspite of them. He made his bed; now let him lie on it.
Brosca rubbed his head. "Leske…" he started. "Yer stupid, but I didna know how stupid ye are until now. Ye coulda gone with Rica, lived like dem fancy nobles, but ye always look fer someone to tell ye what to do, ain't ye?"
Leske opened his mouth to reply but Jarvia ran out of patience. "Enough talk! Now that you're here, you're all going to die," she hissed as she drew her daggers. "Leave the chatty one alive! He is mine!"
The Carta fought as hard as they could but still they lost. Jarvia was hard to kill, fighting like a cornered animal, but Brosca swung his sword and she was dead. Seeing her fall, the fight went out of the others and they tried to run, only to be stabbed in their backs.
Brosca shook Leske out, surprised that his blow had not killed the duster. Eventually, his former friend awoke and found himself surrounded by bodies of his comardes.
"Soddin hell! You killed them all!" Leske cried, his hands in his hair, as he looked at what remained of the Carta and of Jarvia.
"Aye," Brosca said as he rested his hands on the hilt of his battle ax and looked down at Leske. "Now what are ye gonna do with ye?"
Leske went down on his knees and pleaded with him. " Spare me. I was wrong! Yes I was stupid! But I know now! I ain't gonna do somethin like this again. Please, have mercy, for old times sake?"
"Ah, ye made a bad bet, runnin with her. Ye were always a soddin lousy gambler."
"Yes! I was wrong, and I'm sorry! Let me go, and I'll never do this again."
"Aye, yer not doin this again. Cause ye see, Bhelen donna like witnesses."
Leske looked at him, puzzled, but Brosca's ax swept through and his head flew to rest beside Jarvia, puzzled no more.
"It's no business of mine but I have to ask: do you really have to? Your old friend looks harmless, if not stupid," Zevran said to him, wiping the spatter off his face as he walked toward the nearest body to deprive it of its possessions.
"Nah. But ye see, Leske sold me out too many times and I canna trust him anymore," Brosca said as he checked Jarvia's pockets. "He was why I became a warden. If it ain't for him, I wouldna left my family. He said he's gonna look after me sister, but he been sleepin with the Carta boss with me gone." He looked at Elissa, who was looking green. "Ye good, Missy?"
"Yes, yes, I'm fine. The room is just…stuffy. I need a little air," she said as she turned away from the carnage.
Brosca had finished looting the bodies and turned to the chests. A plain one contained sheafs of paper, and some few treasures. Brosca held the papers for one moment, then snorted as he tossed it away.
Elissa was taking a turn about the room, not participating in the looting, when her eye was caught with the papers Brosca had discarded.
They were letters. Letters begging for the blackmail of warriors, faking a love letter, begging a forgery of an estate note of sale and many others. Some of them were ordered by someone they knew.
She looked at Brosca but the dwarf was busy looking for more treasures, not looking at the papers. She thought about it and remembered that Brosca never glanced long at the fake notes Vartag had given them, asking her to read them instead. And further back, he never commented on any written sign outside buildings, preferring to ask the others where they are.
So she sidled up to the dwarf, and asked him if he need any help carrying the loot. Brosca was surprised, but handed some trinkets, which she pretended to dropped them, right on top of the papers. She apologised profusely, saying she might have been still affected by the fight. When Brosca's attention was turned back to the chest, she picked the trinkets together with the papers and stowed them in her cloak.
Prince Bhelen congratulated them on their success. However, he said they need more than clear local thugs to have the troops they need. They need to find Paragon Branka.
The paragon was a smith who had invented coal which, when burned, produces no smoke. Her invention has saved the lives of many smiths, as the smoke from their forges produced respiratory problems when inhaled. This single act had elevated the woman to godhood, which she used to found her own house. But a few years back, she and her house disappeared into the Deep Roads, vowing to find a legendary object called the Anvil of the Void.
Bhelen told them they traced the paragon to Caridin's Cross. And so off they go, out of the palace and into the Diamond Quarter when they ran into someone.
"What do you think you're doing?" Thorin shouted at Brosca. People turned and stared at the dwarves.
Brosca just crossed his arms and said "Why're ye here? Thought ye were going to look fer some old man?"
Thorin ignored his question and strode forward to stand in front of him. "I trusted you! I thought you would do the right thing."
"Nugshit. Just say it. Amma never good enough fer ye. Ye think I donna see ye turn yer nose at me? Ye still think the casteless thug you thought I am."
"Brosca, if I didn't trust you, would I have let you in command of anyone?"
Brosca was silenced. He stood uncomfortably before deciding that his trust didn't matter. He told himself that it was foolish of Thorin to do so, and this act does not erase the fact that he is still the noble he vehemently despises. What other proof there could be, when Thorin's notion of doing the "right thing" meant letting the nobles continue to treat his kind like dirt? "I ain't bought it. And I'm still gonna work fer yer brother. Least yer brother's gonna be doing soemthing for us, instead of just sayin some fancy words like ye do now."
"If this is about improving the situation of the casteless, there are other ways. But this isn't the way to do it. Bhelen will use you as he used me and he will betray you when he has no more use of you."
"Then we'll use him right back! Least we doin somethin than lie on our back as yer people ran over us! What's that Lord Harrowmont gonna do for us, eh? Nothin. Ye donna like me choice? Ye sent me here. And yer brother mebbe a turd, but he's gonna give us the troops we need to kill darkspawn."
Thorin put his face near Brosca's and glowered. "You can't trust him."
"And what? That Lord Harrowmont is? Even his people ain't got the guts to fight for him."
"That's it! You're out of line. I'm taking over here. You wait outside and by the Stone, if you're not there when I'm finished here, I'll beat you to an inch of your worthless hide."
"Hah. Yer crazy if ye think imma take shit from you."
Thorin brought out his ax and Brosca drew his, and it would have ended in a brawl, had not Elissa interfered.
"Stop! Or I will burn the treaties!" she shouted above the din.
The dwarves stopped and looked at her. She was leaning over the ledge, the treaty with Orzammar in her hands, her arm hovering just above the lava flowing below.
"Elissa, not you too," Thorin said as he lowered his ax. Brosca followed suit, knowing without those papers, there are no reason for the Wardens to stay in Orzammar.
"Not with you two behaving like common thugs. Look around. You're all making us Wardens look bad."
People were craning necks, watching and enjoying the spectacle of the Wardens being divided as they are.
"You two would settle your differences until one or both of you dies. But that would be a waste of a fighter for the Blight. Well, you believe in the paragons, right? How about this: there's one we need to find, who can choose the king of this city. The Paragon Branka, who was lost in the Deep Roads a few years back. She should choose who would be king."
"We don't even know for sure that the Paragon is alive, Elissa! " Thorin thundered.
Elissa cowered under Thorin's glare, but she refused to be quelled. "But we don't have a choice. We have to find her to settle the succession."
Thorin just continued glaring at her. But Brosca laughed and lowered his ax. "Yer a brave girl, standin up to him like that. If that's what ye want to do, then I'm gonna do it yer way." Then he turned to Thorin, who was still looking furiously at Elissa. "I'm bettin imma find this paragon and win. Ye take me up on that?"
Thorin swung his gaze from the human to the dwarf.
"What, ye scared yer gonna lose? That she ain't gonna like yer soddin face?"
Thorin glared at him but finally said "Fine. A contest it is." He sheathed his ax but he was not done. "If you two don't live up to your words, I will kill you myself. I have no use for anyone who cannot follow orders."
Elissa paled under his threat but Brosca just smirked.
"Elissa, you're going to stay here and wait for our return. You-" he turned to Brosca. "Choose your people and I will choose mine. I will not hold your decision against them."
"Heh. Alright." He called Tabris and Neria to him. Neria joined him with enthusiasm, but Tabris dragged his heels while frowning at the two dwarves.
Mahariel, Alistair and Amadeus went to side with Thorin. Seeing that, Zevran shrugged and went to stand near Tabris. Morrigan told them they were both foolish but nevertheless sided with Thorin.
Sten would have none of it and refused to pick sides. Wynne and Lelianna were of the same mind and instead pleaded for the two to work together. However, their blood was up and there is no backing down.
"We're not even," Tabris commented as he looked at the other group.
"Then Brosca will have to work with what he's got," Thorin snapped at him. The elf flinched under his sharp tone.
When Thorin left them, Tabris turned to the dwarf and asked "Brosca, are you sure about this?"
"Aye, donna worry yer little head. I got ye." Then he looked at the crowd gathered. "What're ye lookin at?" he glared. The crowd shrugged and dispersed.
"I hope you have a plan?" Zevran asked him.
"We gotta go get someone who knows the way in the Deep Roads. Seems dem got it easy with him."
"Hey, Warden!"
Brosca turned to face a red-haired, ruddy faced dwarf who stank of stale beer.
"I heard you're a Warden and you're looking for a paragon," the stranger said with deep, gravelly voice.
"You heard right. Though I doubt anyone wouldn't know that with what happened earlier," Tabris commented as he looked at a few gawkers milling around.
"Who're ye?" Borsca asked the stranger.
"My name is Ogrhen of House Kondrat. I'm uh..…Branka's husband." He told them that he had been trying to find his prodigal wife and bring her home when he heard them quarreling. He offered to help them with his knowledge of her and what she wanted to find in exchange of going with them to find her. He explained that the Anvil of the Void was made by a smith named Caridin centuries ago. This was used to build golems, which protected Orzammar from the darkspawn for a hundred years. He added that Branka would have looked for it at Ortan Thaig, where the object was made. "So, are you going to let me help you find her or not?"
Brosca looked at the others and knew they don't have much choice. "Yer on."
Thorin was short-tempered with them all, not at all his usual calm self. There was a certain edge to his words which make it clear to anyone that they should heed or risk misfortune. Still, his manner is not surprising, since he had been enduring a lot of slurs from his people for a crime he did not do. Not even counting the knowledge that his father is dead.
Back at the gates, they were expected by the gatekeeper, who had been told by Elissa that other Grey Wardens may come and request entry. When he saw who he was, his face hardened in dislike. "You're the exile. This begins with you. Sorrow finished what your kinslaying started. Your father, our king, is dead."
"My brother's death is a complicated matter," Thorin answered through gritted teeth.
"Your conviction and guilt were entered into Assembly records. I suggest you leave and do not compound this tragedy."
They would not have let them pass, had not Elissa also thought to ask Dulin Forender to watch out for them.
They were on the way to Lord Harrowmont's estate, when they were ambushed by Bhelen's supporters. He fell on them, furious, one by one falling under his strokes until their line broke and they scattered, shouting "I ain't gettin paid enough for this!"
Still this isn't enough for people, who, when they saw him, spat at the ground. "You've got a lot of nerve showing your face here, exile," one of them sneered. He had met most of them in passing and knew no ill of them, but they now display their worst qualities now that he had lost his caste. They treat him now as if he was casteless. Well, he thought, he is technically a casteless. As they walked through the streets while the people cursed him, he wondered idly if this is what the casteless experience just by one day, then how much more for those who were casteless by birth? This was immediately answered, because he had also participated and encouraged this sort of treatment. It wasn't very flattering to know that he is not as good as he thought he was. All this time, he was acting very cruelly to people who did him no harm. It also gave him an inkling on why Brosca disliked him so intensely and he understood why the duster would agree to work with his brother despite knowing his character.
They met Lord Harrowmont at his estate. Dulin Forender led them to the noble's study where Lord Harrowmont rose to greet them. The noble looks older than Thorin remembered. The lines in his face were deeper and his hair has completely turned white. At his age, he should be in retirement, dandling his grandchildren on his knee, not playing political games.
"It is good to see you back," the noble said to Thorin, "though I wish the circumstances were more favorable."
"As do I, my lord."
He let them sit in comfort before continuing. "I assume you have heard of our current predicament?"
"Yes. I want to know how my father died."
"In grief. I'm sorry to see him join your ancestors with so much sorrow in his heart. It wounded him to lose Trian and you so quickly. Here," Lord Harrowmont said as he handed a note. "A letter from your father. It was addressed to me but I thought you should read it too."
Thorin opened it and read his father's last letter, the king confessing his guilt in letting his son be sent to exile to protect their name and begging Lord Harrowmont to send people to look for him.
"We never found you," Lord Harrowmont said softly.
Thorin lingered at his father's signature before folding it close. "I bear him no ill will. I only wish that he rest in peace now." He was about to hand it back but Lord Harrowmont stopped him. "Keep it," he said. Thorin thanked him and slipped it inside his pocket.
"I was with your father in his last hours," the noble continued. "When he died, we were relieved that he had returned to the Stone without pain. But it was too good to be true. We found out later that a servant of Bhelen was part of the healer's retinue. And he had access to the medicines your father had taken. We still do not know for certain if he had a hand in your father's death, but even the court healer had said that King Endrin was weakening too fast."
Thorin bowed his head. When he raised his eyes, they were full of anger. "I'll never forgive Bhelen for this."
Lord Harrowmont let him rage for a little longer, before moving on to their current problems. He said that he will never let men like Bhelen get away with this crime and so he decided to oppose his brother in the bid for the throne, as he promised the last time they parted. Thorin swore to help him. The noble said they were too late for the Proving, but his loss there does not matter if a paragon were to declare for him. They talked about Braska and how she might be alive in the Deep roads looking for the Anvil of the Void. It's a slim chance that they can find her, but they will take what they can get.
They were just going to the Deep roads when they met Brosca and his group. There was a quarrel, then the next king of Orzammar was to be decided on a bet.