Rowena woke with a gasp.

She was lying face down in the stone. Her forehead stung sharply from where it was pressed against the ground; she picked herself up and looked around, blinking dust from her eyes. They were in a small tunnel lit softly by crystals on the ceiling and walls. Her head was still throbbing – she patted at it and cringed gently at the slight jolt of pain. She sat still for a moment and tried to remember what had happened. There had been the spiders, and the collapse…and then a terrible dream, one she had already forgetten. The whispering inside her head had become a hum, both lilting and suffocating.

Someone stirred beside her. A moment later, Eruestan sat up, dirt smeared across his face. "I dreamt…I dreamt I was being eaten alive," he said.

Rowena pressed her hand against her wound. "I think it almost happened in real life."

"Rowena, you're hurt." He stood up shakily and placed a hand on her forehead. "Here, let me..."

She jerked back. "Don't."

"Shut up," he said tersely, and for a moment all she could see was blue light. The wound flashed with heat, and then became cool. "With all that magic in that cave, anything that it would have drawn in would have been here by now." He ended the spell and dropped to his knees. "It was all my fault," he said. "I panicked – I meant to hit the spiders, not the bridge…I-I nearly…I might have killed everyone…"

"Don't say that," she said. "They were all standing by that tunnel's entrance – I'm sure they made it in. If anything, I think you saved us. You saw how shaken everyone was – we weren't prepared, and there were too many of those things. They could have torn everyone to shreds."

He shuddered. "Maker…I – Beomar, did you see? They just…it was too much, Rowena. After the Roads, after all that darkness, and then the spiders…"

Rowena grabbed his shoulder and squeezed it while he shivered. After a few moments he stopped and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said. "I must look like an idiot."

"Don't be silly, Eruestan," she said. "Everyone in that cave panicked – you saw the Legion, they collapsed in a second, and they're supposed to be the best warriors in Orzammar. Faced with that kind of fear, anyone would have cracked."

He looked at her a little sheepishly. "You didn't crack."

She tried to force a smile, ignoring the shiver down her back. "Yeah, well, I have an almost inhuman ability to ignore fear, so…"

Someone groaned right beside them, making them both jump. "Bleedin' nug tits," Oghren moaned, sitting up and clutching his head. "What did I drink last night?"

"Oh, great, you're alive," Rowena said. "Our luck just gets better and better, doesn't it?"

"Hey, we'll take whatever victory we can get," Eruestan said. "Don't you remember anything from last night, Oghren? About Wynne and the spiders?"

Oghren frowned at them and scratched his beard. "Big Tits is a spider?"

Rowena and Eruestan both snorted. "Speaking of Wynne, what happened to her?" Rowena asked. "Do you think that was the spirit?"

Eruestan nodded. "Unfortunately, I don't know how it works – I don't even know what kind it is. I knew she was getting worse under the surface – it might be because of the Taint, I'm not sure. Still, I have no idea where that outburst came from. The Tower taught us how to identify a possession, not how to live with one."

She sighed. "They're really against teaching you anything useful at that Tower, aren't they?"

He smiled. "I'm worried, though. I've never seen that kind of power before – no matter how strong the spirit supporting Wynne is, it must have used a lot of energy to do what it did. That might have killed her – if it didn't, I'm pretty sure that with all his training Alistair will be able to realize what she is. And in that case…"

"He might try to attack her," Rowena finished. A chill went down her spine. "He wouldn't do that."

Eruestan shrugged helplessly. "If he hasn't cracked, sure – the Alistair we know would never hurt Wynne, I know that. But you know how much this place scares him… In any case, I can't imagine the others would let anything happen to her – unless they have to, that is." He shuddered again and turned to Oghren. "How are you feeling, at least? You must have hit your head fairly hard if you don't remember anything about what happened."

The dwarf shrugged. "The way I see it, ain't a good night if you can remember more than half of it. Where in the nug nuts are we, though, and what are we gonna do?"

Rowena and Eruestan glanced at each other. "The cave-in blocked us off from the others," she said. "They went to the tunnel in that end of the cave. So long as we can try to head off to that direction, we should run into them."

"So east, then," Oghren said. The other two stared at him. "It's my Stone sense," he muttered. "I'm rusty, but I can lead us in the right direction. No sayin' what's waitin' for us down this tunnel, though."

"Something tells me it won't be a warm bath and some cakes," Rowena said. "We should get moving – the sooner we can find the others, the better."

The men nodded and began to follow her down the tunnel. She grasped her sword and peered into the distance before her, following Oghren's cue to go to the right. Wherever the others were, they better find them soon.

One day into their trek, Leliana decided she had been in worse places.

Granted, the Roads were terribly cold, and dark, with no end in sight it was easy to let your thoughts wander to unpleasant places. Still, there was no denying their majesty. Most of the passages were lined in statuary and graffiti, and from Dagmar's translations she was beginning to have a deeper understanding of dwarven culture. There were tales of mighty kings and queens, of battles lost and won, all mixed in with cruder ads for nug meat, fresh ale, and where to go if you were looking for a good time. The Roads themselves were quiet, however, with only the faint scratching of creatures in front of and behind them to keep them company. In the end, she rather liked this part of the Deep Roads. They were better than the cotillions at Madame Dantine's summer estate, in any case.

All the same, after a whole day they had come no closer to finding Rowena, Eruestan, or any of Paragon Branka's party. "I think we might have to seriously consider the idea that they're dead," Dagmar said as they laid out camp for the night. "We should start focusing on finding the rest of the Legion."

Cormac started to growl; Leliana scratched his head. "They are not dead," she said firmly. "I think we should still keep looking. Weren't you saying yesterday that our tunnels were taking us higher in the earth? They probably passed right below us."

"That may be true," Dagmar said. "If anything, though, that just means we're getting farther and farther away from them."

"We will find them," Zevran said quietly. "We need to give Wynne water – will anyone help me?"

"I will," Leliana said. She knelt by the mage's head and frowned. Wynne had been unconscious since the cave-in; under normal circumstances, that would have been fatal. However, whatever was possessing her seemed to be keeping her alive – according to what Morrigan could tell, at least. Leliana tilted her head back and let Zevran pour drops of water in her mouth. Sten had been carrying her through the Roads; though he had not complained, Leliana knew that he had to be exhausted. "We need to figure out how to wake her up," she said. "Even if it means she might attack us – otherwise she might starve."

"There's not much any of us can do for her," Alistair said. He had kept quiet for most of the day, looking after Cormac and guarding their rear approach. He looked over to Morrigan. "Are you sure there's no special type of magic that could help?"

The witch frowned. "If I could think of anything, I would have told you. Anything I do know would require a great deal of energy, more than I have access to alone."

"Hopefully we can find Eruestan soon, then," he said. "Until then, Sten and I can take turns supporting Wynne. We've got another important issue, though – we're running low on food and water."

"Food shouldn't be too difficult," Dagmar said. "There are a large number of mushrooms that grow down here, it's just a matter of choosing the right ones."

The knight frowned. "Why, what happens if you choose wrong?"

She shrugged. "Your lungs get ripped to shreds and you drown in your own blood."

Alistair looked thoroughly defeated. "We should have stayed in that prison."

"Don't worry, I know which kinds to eat," she said. "As for water, though, that'll be trickier. Finding it is completely random out here – if we're lucky, we'll run into it often enough that we won't die from thirst."

"Good thing we're known for having good luck," Sten said.

"Hey, Sten, nothing's killed us yet," Leliana said. She then paused. "I shouldn't have said that, should I?"

"In my experience, optimism can keep a person alive for far longer than a full set of supplies," Dagmar said, sitting down. "All the same, we should eat."

Leliana nodded and sat down next to her, grabbing the hard bread that the dwarf had pulled from her provisions bag. "I never thought I'd be this happy to see a piece of bread this stale."

"You should see what they give us in the army," Dagmar said. "You could break your teeth on it."

Leliana perked up at the prospect of a good story. "You were in the army?"

She nodded. "Bit of a joke, really. They hardly ever send us out here, mainly because they're afraid they'd lose everyone. The one time we did leave, though, I managed to save my commanding officer from being smashed to bits by a hurlock's hammer. Brought a lot of attention and fame to my family…but it also gave me more of a reputation as a fighter than I deserve."

"You seem competent enough," Sten said.

"I'm a good soldier – I'm not a good show pony." She stared down at the ground. "Harrowmont should have never put me in the arena, and I should never have agreed. Didn't want to disappoint my family, that's all – look where that got me." She shrugged and finished her bread. "None of that matters now, though. I'm already dead, and if we're not careful you all will be too before long. You should all get some rest – I'll take the first watch."

Leliana watched her sit down in front of them, facing the long empty tunnel stretching out into darkness. The air echoed ominously around them; her jaw ached as she crunched down on her bread, sending a shiver down her spine. Still better than Madame Dantine's, she thought grimly to herself.

Rowena's waterskin was almost empty.

"I don't want to keep repeating myself," she said as they settled down to camp on the middle of a bridge connecting two tunnels, "but we've stretched our rations out as far as they can go. If we don't find anything to drink tomorrow, we're going to be in a pretty shaky situation."

"We're already in a pretty shaky situation," Eruestan said grimly. "Literally, if this bridge doesn't prove to be as sturdy as we think it is."

She sighed. "I'm telling you, it's a good idea. This way, if anything comes at us from either side, we just run in the opposite direction and destroy the bridge." She paused. "Unless, of course, something attacks us from both sides."

He sighed. "Oh, whatever. At the very least we have food."

Rowena looked down at the deepstalker Oghren was slowly pounding into a pulp. "As far as that counts as food, sure."

"It's food, all right," the dwarf grumbled. "May not look pretty, but beat anythin' with a rock and it'll start looking like food."

On any other day, she wouldn't have been convinced. Even before it had been mashed, the beast had been far from appetizing. The deepstalker was the size of a lapdog, with tiny arms, a long tail, and nastily sharp teeth and claws. In her hunger, though, even its purée form was starting to look very tasty. "I'm just glad they didn't swarm us."

"This one was probably a straggler," Oghren said. "Don't like huntin' alone. Now, Twinkler, if you don't mind..."

Eruestan looked over the immense space of the cavern and bit his lip. "Are we sure we want to do this? Look at what happened the last time we used magic."

"Hey, if you want to eat this raw, be my guest," Oghren said. "I just figured the two of you don't have much experience shoving underground meat into your mouths."

Rowena turned to the elf. "Eruestan, please cast the spell."

The mage sighed and snapped his fingers. A small flame popped up under the deepstalker meat; a few minutes later, they had all gingerly grabbed a different part of its body.

"Well, this is…vile," Eruestan said, pinching his nose. "Ugh – Maker's breath – what's that smell? Is that from the meat?"

A putrid, sickly-sweet scent was filling the air around them. "It's not always a picnic down here," Oghren said. "Dig in."

They ate in silence, each choking down the rancid meat. Rowena stared out over the bridge during the meal. There was a spectacular view of an enormous cavern stretching out beneath them. Bridges and roads criss-crossed the entire area; she wondered how many carried something that wanted to kill them.

"That was really disgusting," Eruestan said, spitting out the last of his portion. "I'm never taking food for granted again."

Oghren handed him his waterskin. "Here, wash the taste out with this."

"You still have water? Thanks, I'll only take a – ugh!" He spat over the side of the bridge, retching slightly. "Oghren! Is there ale in this?"

"What else would it be?"

"How do you still have ale left?" Rowena asked. "I thought you drank it all on the first day?"

Oghren coughed awkwardly and looked out over the bridge; the same idea occurred to Rowena and Eruestan at the same time. "No!" the elf groaned, retching even harder. "Oghren, please, please tell me you did not urinate into your—"

"Well, I'm gonna call it a night," the dwarf said loudly, stretching out on the stone. "You two take the first watch – wake me up in two hours."

He started snoring; Rowena and Eruestan sat back to back, each fighting off exhaustion. "So," she said, "how are you feeling?"

"I just drank Oghren's piss," he said bitterly. "What do you think?"

"Right." She bit her lip, trying to think of something else to say. "You really think this bridge is going to collapse?"

"Rowena, please stop saying that, with our luck it'll just make the bridge weaker." He sighed. "That'd be some end – falling to my death alone in the middle of the Deep Roads."

"Hey, I'm still here – you'd be so lucky to die with me." She winked at him. "Besides, even if it does happen, just wave your hands about and save the day like you normally do."

Eruestan shook his head. "No, to be honest, I probably couldn't use magic."

She rolled her eyes. "I mean, if the choice is between 'falling to our deaths' and 'possibly attracting a deadly animal', I think it's reasonable to hedge our bets and opt for magic…"

"That's not what I mean," he said. "If I could, I would, but I wouldn't have that kind of strength. Stopping someone from falling with that kind of momentum takes a ton of power – I don't have it. I doubt anyone does."

"Wynne did," she pointed out.

"That was the spirit. Which means it's a powerful spirit – a very powerful spirit." He sighed. "I've really screwed everyone over by not saying anything about her, didn't I?"

She shrugged and stared out over the bridge again. It seemed silly to her that magic would have limits; after seeing what it could do, magic looked invincible. "What does it feel like?"

"To have screwed everyone over? Not great."

"What?" she asked. "No, I mean, what does magic feel like?"

He glanced over at her and frowned. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged again. "Like, when you're casting it? Does it hurt? Can you feel it take a lot of energy out of you?"

He thought for a moment. "It depends on the type of magic," he said slowly. "It all starts the same, like a gentle buzzing in your stomach. Once you start to direct it, though, it changes. The power in magic's all about concentration – if you want fire, think hot, ice, think cold. The words and the hand movements are just about channeling that power into what you want."

"Sounds difficult."

"And dangerous, especially when you're first starting out," he said. "Someone I knew once gave himself some pretty nasty burns trying to get the energy for his first fire spell." He shook his head. "Releasing a spell is really satisfactory, but it does take something out of you. Like finishing a sprint, or setting down something heavy. Do that enough and you get exhausted."

"It must be nice, though," she said. "Having that power at your fingertips. Never really feeling helpless."

He laughed. "Are you kidding me? Helplessness is pretty much the only thing I ever feel. And since when do you feel helpless?"

She smiled, a chill going down her back at the thought of the blackness they had seen the day before. "Fair enough."

"Hey, wanna know what I'm feelin'?" Oghren growled. "I'm feelin' like some prissy topsiders need to shut up and let a man get his sleep!"

The two glanced at each other. "Sorry, Oghren," Eruestan said. "We'll be quiet."

"Good," he said, rolling back over. "Friggin' topsiders…"

Rowena winked at Eruestan, secretly glad that their conversation was over. That kind of talk could be saved for another time.

Instead, she decided to look out over the cavern. It amazed her how bright parts of the Deep Roads were, even after centuries of disuse. Looking at all the bridges and tunnels, she was able to fully appreciate the strength the Dwarven empire must have had at its height. It made her wonder what people would say about Ferelden after the country vanished from the earth – if it ever would. She loved Ferelden, but she had to admit that it had nothing quite as impressive as this; even Orlais had her homeland outmatched. In any case, it was odd thinking about the future, if the future ever did come about. I guess we have to survive all of this before I can start considering that, she thought, shifting her position slightly.

That was when she heard it – a quiet skittering, somewhere in the distance. "What was that?" she said sharply, sitting up.

Eruestan had already climbed to his feet. "Knowing this place, nothing good," he said, his ears twitching. "Where do you think it came from?"

She shrugged, standing up next to him. "A tunnel?"

Eruestan snorted. "Very specific."

"Hey, at least I'm right." She drew her sword and nudged their other companion with her foot. "Oghren, get up," she said. "We might have company."

The dwarf started and blinked at them. "Soddin' thunderhumpers," he muttered, climbing to his feet. "This better be important – I was havin' one of the good dreams, where I don't even have to ask for it."

Rowena sighed and kept looking at the tunnel in front of her. "There's something moving out there," she said. "I think it's coming from this way."

The three of them stood in silence for a moment, tensed and ready for battle. Sure enough, the skittering was getting louder. "I really hate this place," Oghren grumbled. "If it's a darkspawn, I call dibs."

A moment later, something scurried into view. It was a deepstalker, its beady little eyes glaring at them from the tunnel entrance.

Oghren relaxed his hammer. "Are you kiddin' me? All that for a soddin' stalker?"

As soon as he said that, another deepstalker joined the first one, then another, then another. Before long, a whole swarm had gathered around the tunnel entrance. "All right, no big deal," Rowena said, keeping her voice even. "Let's just back up into the first tunnel and blow this bridge up."

"Um, about that," Eruestan said tensely at her back. She glanced over her shoulder to see that another swarm had gathered at the other end of the bridge. "What was that about being attacked on both sides?"

"All right, so not one of my better ideas," Rowena said. "How bad is it now, Oghren?"

The dwarf had retightened his grip. "We might need to change our pants."

"Ok, let's stop this nonsense," Eruestan said, stepping in front of them. He held out his hands and threw out a magical dome that pulsated between them and the beasts. This had two effects: first, the bridge began to shake beneath them. Then the swarm began to go into a frenzy.

Rowena watched in disgust as the stalkers began to dive at the barrier, their claws slashing at the air as they bounced off it and came back for more. "This is…gross. Eruestan, can't you blast them off?"

"Normally, I would," the elf said through gritted teeth. "Now, however, I'm worried that if I cast anything stronger than this our bridge is going to collapse."

"Ok, I got it, the bridge camp was a bad idea, no need to be a dick." She started to look around, trying to find a different way out. "So you know how you said you couldn't stop a fall with magic?"

"Yep," he said, focusing on the shield. "Still true."

"How do you feel about propulsion?" He glanced at her in confusion; she pointed to a spot below them. "There's a tunnel down there, a little to the right. We should be able to reach it with a bit of a push."

Eruestan looked horrified. "Rowena, I've never done that before."

"Well, your other options are falling to your death when the bridge collapses or staying here forever with the stalker herd," she said. "You decide."

He sighed and nodded. "Just help me aim, please."

She turned to look at the dwarf. "How do you feel about this, Oghren?"

"Yeah, sure," he spat. "Nothing a dwarf likes more than flying through the air."

She nodded and linked her arm through his before linking her other arm around Eruestan's waist. "Everyone ready?" she asked.

"As ready as I'll every be," Eruestan said, furrowing his brow in concentration.

"Just get it over with," Oghren said.

"All right, then," Rowena said. "On three…two…one!"

Eruestan thrust out his arms and pushed the stalker herd back. The bridge trembled again; before the deepstalkers could leap up a second time, he had flung his arms out behind them. There was a blast, as if something had exploded, and suddenly they were flying through the air. Rowena held the two men tightly in her grip, trying to direct the three of them towards the rapidly approaching tunnel. The bridge behind them had begun to collapse, yet before they knew it they had crashed into the earth of the new cave. Picking herself up, Rowena turned around and stared at the wreckage behind them. The bridge was gone, and the few stalkers remaining up above were trying to jump after them, all falling to their deaths in the attempt. "Well," Eruestan said, sitting up. "If I ever want to break a bone in the future, at least now I know I can do that."

Rowena snorted and looked around at the new tunnel they were in. It was darker than the one they had left; somehow, it seemed even more abandoned than the rest of the Roads. "Where do you think this leads?" she asked.

"Don't know, don't care," Oghren snarled. "Now I'm gettin' some sleep. Don't wake me up again."

"That sounds like a good idea," Eruestan said. "Do you mind taking the first watch on your own?"

She shook her head. "Go ahead," she said. "I'll wake you up when it's time."

Eruestan settled down on the dirt and closed his eyes. Rowena was left to look out on the Roads, wondering what the next day would bring.

There were two golems lining the entrance to the Ortan Thaig.

The group stared at them in quiet awe. They were twice the size of Sten and almost four times as wide, with bulging arms all built in stone. Crystals grew out of the gaps and cracks in the rock, and each carried a giant steel warhammer. They were terrifying to look at; however, neither was moving. Instead, both their heads were slumped against their chests, locked in quiet slumber.

"Are they…what, dead?" Alistair whispered, clutching the hilt of his sword. Cormac growled at them softly at his side. "Can statues die? Is that the word you use?"

"I'm not up-to-date on the terminology," Dagmar said, "but I do know that these two haven't moved in a few ages. They've guarded the thaig for as long as anyone can remember. If they're still conscious, they can't be thrilled about it."

"They're so large," Leliana said. "How on earth were they able to move?"

"I don't know," Dagmar admitted. "A Shaper might have a better idea, though I think we lost most of our knowledge about them with Caridin."

"I imagine Wynne would know," Zevran said quietly.

"Are you sure the Legionnaires will know how to help her?" Leliana asked. Wynne was still cradled in Sten's arms, eyes closed. She had not stirred in three days, and though her breathing was steady they were beginning to worry that she would starve to death.

"Like I said, I have no idea," Dagmar said. "Dwarves don't normally have to deal with spirit-possessed women. But if anyone knows how to handle mage issues down here, it'll be them. Let's just hope the Ortan patrol is still somewhere around this thaig."

They walked carefully under the golems' arms, each subconsciously holding their breath. Soon they had stepped out onto a large plaza gently lit with blue light. Ortan Thaig was much smaller than Orzammar, nothing more than a small group of buildings huddled in the middle of a cave, yet it still held a certain ethereal beauty. Lining the walls above them were streaks of a gently glowing mineral that pulsed in the darkness, sending shivers down Leliana's spine. That's funny, she thought as the tremors continued. It's not even that pretty…

Then she noticed that her hands were twitching.

She frowned. "What's going on—Maker's breath, Zevran, your nose!"

A thin stream of blood had started dripping from the elf's nose as his eyes darted across the cavern roof. "It's nothing," he said quickly, still looking up. "Just…I'm just…I am just…santo Creatore, am I the only one who's hot in here?"

"'T-t-tis l-lyrium," Morrigan said, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. "'T-tis a g-g-great d-deal of l-l-lyrium…"

"Ortan Thaig was once a successful lyrium mine," Dagmar said. "That's where the light is coming from."

She was about to say something more. Before she could, however, Wynne jolted in Sten's arms and shrieked loudly.

Everyone reacted at once. As the others drew their weapons, Sten set her down gently before leaping back a few paces and pulling out his own greatsword. Wynne panted for a moment, staring at them wildly, before falling over to one side.

Leliana wasn't sure if her heart was racing more from fear or from the lyrium. Regardless, she ran to Wynne, dropping her bow. "Wynne! Are you all right?"

"Water," the mage croaked. Her face was still pale, but there was no sound of the spirit in her voice. "I need water."

"Water!" Leliana cried. "Someone get some water!" The others looked confused, their weapons still drawn. "Don't just stand there! Get her something!"

"I shall do it," Morrigan said, dropping her staff. "There is a pool over there…"

"I doubt it will be safe to drink," Sten said. "Even a stream would be dangerous, and at least that would be flowing water."

"We all need water, though," Zevran said, hand wavering on his dagger. "Either we take our chances with the pool or we die of thirst."

"And Wynne could be dying right now," Leliana said urgently. "Someone do something!"

"Will the water be poisoned?" Alistair asked Dagmar. His hands were shaking as well; Leliana noticed he was unable to keep his eyes off Wynne.

"Not necessarily," the dwarf said. "At the same time, it is probably infused with lyrium at this point."

Alistair took a deep breath. "Lyrium could make the spirit even more dangerous."

"But Wynne needs it!" Leliana said. "Alistair, please!"

No one in the group said anything. Leliana was about to jump up herself, but then stopped, struck with the idea that something awful might happen to Wynne if she left her side. She began to shake; again, whether from the lyrium or the tension she couldn't say.

It was Wynne, however, who broke the silence. Still managing to look dignified, she slowly pushed herself up, wiping the dirt from her face. "I am fine," she rasped calmly, folding her hands in her lap. "I am in control. I am also very thirsty. Alistair, be a dear and get me some water, please. I will explain everything afterwards."

His resistance faded visibly. "Right – right, of course. I'm sorry – I'm so sorry, Wynne!"

"And I am still very thirsty," she replied. "Water, please."

As he scrambled over to the pool with Dagmar's waterskin, the others stood around a little awkwardly. "So...," Zevran asked, pinching his nosebleed shut. "How are you feeling?"

Wynne glanced at him for a moment, and then turned back to Alistair with a weak smile as he returned with her water. "Thank you," she said, grabbing the skin. "This will do very – oh!" Her face scrunched up violently as her whole body began to convulse.

"Stone's teats, it's happening again," Dagmar said, steadying her axe. "Brace yourselves!"

Wynne held up a hand and shook her head. "No, no, it's still me," she said, sticking out her tongue. "It's just, goodness, there's a lot of lyrium in this!"

Leliana's eyes focused on the water skin, her curiosity suddenly piqued. "Could I try some?"

Wynne shook her head, handing the skin back to Dagmar. "Ingesting something this concentrated for your first time? All your veins would burst." Blood suddenly appeared on her sleeve; she frowned and dabbed at it. "I certainly hope this isn't mine…"

"I'mb sowwy," Zevran said, pressing a hand to his bloodied face. "I am not suwe what is happening to me."

"Here, take this." Alistair handed him a rag and turned back to the mage. "Wynne, what's going on? Are you a…are you an Abomination?"

She sighed. "It's a bit more complicated than that, I'm afraid. I'm not quite sure where to begin."

"Don't worry," someone said behind them. "We've got time."

They all turned around and started. Emerging from the shadows was a squadron of heavily-tattooed dwarves, each armed to the teeth and carrying a spear that was pointed directly at them.

There was a slight edge of panic in thirst that Rowena was just beginning to discover.

Their waterskins had run dry the day before. Now, after a day of stumbling through the empty caverns of the Deep Roads, thirst was clawing at her throat. Her mouth was so dry it made swallowing painful, she could feel her muscles begin to seize and spasm, and her head was slowly starting to spin. Dying like this would be awful, she realized, far worse than falling to a darkspawn's blade.

Making matters worse, the new tunnel they had found seemed only to lead them farther and farther away from the others. According to Oghren, they were heading north now, following tunnels that hadn't been touched in centuries. Considering that even the highly-frequented Roads were some of the most dangerous places in Thedas, their prospects didn't look good.

Needless to say, morale in the group was low. "There has to be some water nearby," she said, trying to rally her spirits. She could tell that her voice sounded scratchy. "We can set up camp once we find it."

"I still don't see why we can't drink our own piss," Oghren rasped.

Eruestan shot him a look. The mage's eyes were sunken in and his lips were chapped. "First off, because I can say from personal experience that your urine's disgusting, Oghren. More importantly, drinking urine leads to a build-up in toxins in your kidneys, which would eventually cause them to fail and kill you."

"How do you know that?" Rowena asked.

He glanced back at her. "The tower did a lot of experimentation on how the body reacts to extreme conditions."

She grimaced. "Imagine being that poor test subject."

"Look, you think I give a nug's ass about my kidneys?" Oghren asked. "They're already shot with all the drinkin'."

The elf frowned. "No, that's your liver."

"What?"

Eruestan sighed. "It's basic anatomy, Oghren. The liver processes the brunt of alcohol – it's your liver you've already shot, not your kidneys." He paused. "Although, to be fair, in your case probably all of your organs have almost disintegrated."

Oghren shrugged. "Hey, you say 'potato', I say 'potato'."

Eruestan stared at him. "What?"

"'Potato, potato'," he explained. "It's an expression we have in Dwarven. Means they're the same damn thing."

"I know the expression, Oghren," Eruestan said. "But it's not 'potato, potato', it's 'potato, potato'."

"That's what I said!"

"No, you're saying 'potato, potato.' The second one should have an 'ah' sound – 'potato, potahto.'"

"Why in Stone's teats would it be that?"

"Well, why would it be 'potato, potato'? That sounds ridiculous!"

"It's because it's the same damn thing! You're saying 'potato', I'm saying 'potato', there's no difference, there you go!"

"What? No, the point is, the pronunciations are different, but they mean the same thing – so even if you're saying 'potahto', we're both talking about potatoes!"

"Who the hell calls it a 'potahto'?"

"I swear to the Maker, the next person who says 'potato' is getting left behind to the deepstalkers!" Rowena snapped. They both froze and stared at her; that was when all three of them heard an incredibly beautiful sound.

"Is that…water?" Eruestan whispered, eyes wide.

He was right; echoing faintly from the end of the tunnel was the sound of rushing water. For a moment all they could do was stare at each other. Then, without saying anything, they all began scrambling down the tunnel, tripping over the floor as they raced closer to that precious sound.

Suddenly they were out of the tunnel, standing on the edge of a giant chasm. For a moment, Rowena couldn't tell what she was looking at. A large bridge spanned the gap, and for a moment she balked in front of it. Something about the way it was built urged her away, as if trying to warn her about what lay beyond it. Then she saw the waterfall crashing to the ground on the other side.

It was easily the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. She started moving forward slowly, almost trancelike, soothed by the song of the water. There was a strange feeling gnawing at her stomach; that must have been the thirst, there was no other way to describe it. They stepped off the bridge onto the other side, ignoring the sludge on the ground, and walked up to the waterfall. "How…how do we drink it?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly.

"Here," Eruestan said, stretching out a hand. A stream of water suddenly diverted from the chute, traipsing lazily over to them. All three of them swallowed giant gulps, and for a moment Rowena's thirst was quenched. Then she was on all fours, gagging violently.

"Maker's breath!" Eruestan retched. "What's the matter with it?"

"It's blighted," Oghren spat. "These soddin' tunnels…"

It was the end. Rowena pulled her knees to her chest, biting her lip to keep from crying out. They were going to die, alone in the dark, and the singing in her head would consume her…

She lifted her head without thinking. There was another singing, a real one – only less of a song, more like a chant. It was coming somewhere from within the caverns stretching out before them. There was something ominous about them; they were unlit, and she had the bizarre feeling that something terrible lay beyond them. Still, there was undeniably a voice coming from them. "Do you hear that?" she asked, standing up. "Someone's in the tunnels!"

Eruestan perked up beside her. "Maybe they have water!"

"And maybe there's ale!" Oghren said, leaping to his feet. "What are you waiting for?"

Hope fluttering in their chests, they began to make their ways into the caves. The light had gotten dimmer, but their footing was even, and they were still able to make out the way before them. The passage, however, began to get more and more narrow, and soon they were walking in a line. "It's sloping up," Rowena called behind to the others. "Careful, the ground is a little slippery."

The chanting was echoing more loudly, and Rowena was able to hear enough to tell that it was in Dwarven. "Can you tell what they're saying?" she asked Oghren.

He shook his head. "Not yet – too much echoing."

"Something's not right here," Eruestan said suddenly. "This sludge on the ground is black – and look at the scratches on the walls. These aren't regular roads."

"Should we turn around?" Rowena asked, stopping for a moment. "This could be a trap."

As she stopped, the chanting suddenly sounded much clearer. "V pervyy den' oni prishli, vsekh s soboyu unesli. V den' vtoroy oni napali i kogo-to pozhevali."

"I know that voice," Oghren said suddenly. "I don't know who, but I know that voice."

"What are they saying?" Rowena asked nervously, climbing up higher.

"V tretyy den' yavivshis' v gosti, doglodali nashi kosti. V den' chetvyortyy my ikh zhdali i ot strakha umirali."

The dwarf had fallen unusually silent. "Oghren?" Eruestan asked.

"You don't want to know," he grunted. "Just keep moving forward."

Rowena glanced back at Eruestan, who shrugged nervously and nodded at her to continue. Hand on her sword, she continued to climb upward, the chanting still ringing in her ears.

"V pyatyy den' k nam zaglyanuli i devchonku umyknuli. V den' shestoy devchonki krik pryamo v dushu nam pronik." There was something perverse about the chant, a sickly, wheezy quality that hid under the words and seeped through the melody. She couldn't understand a thing, but there was something horribly wrong about them."V den' sed'moy ey cherez rot rvotoj vsluchili zhivot. V den' vosmoy tvar'e igraloc', nad devchonkoy izdevalos'."

"Sweet Stone," Oghren said, almost in a whimper. Rowena looked back at him. His face had gone white, and his knuckles were white as they gripped his warhammer.

"Oghren, what's the matter?" she asked. "What is she saying?"

He didn't answer, almost as if he didn't hear her. Heart in her throat, she kept moving forward, dreading what she was about to stumble upon.

"V den' devyatyy devka zlobno stala zhrat' cebe podobnikh. Vot ona piruet sladko i gotovitsya stat' matkoy."

The tunnel wrapped around a bend and then opened up to a small cave, dimly lit by crystals lying in the ceiling overhead. They were no longer alone; someone was hunched over in the center of the cave, chanting to herself as she rocked back and forth. "Hello?" Rowena asked, her voice cutting through a second reiteration of the chant. "Who are you?"

The woman stopped abruptly and turned towards them. Eruestan muttered something behind her and held out his hand. A ball of light floated up to the cave ceiling, giving them a clear look of who they were addressing. In the center of the cave was a young woman glaring at them with mottled eyes, face smeared with blood as she set down the human arm she had been chewing on.

"Maker's breath," Eruestan said faintly, the light from his spell flickering slightly.

Rowena drew her sword, pointing it directly at the woman's face. "Stay back," she growled. "I'm warning you, I won't hesitate."

The woman stared at her for a moment, and then tilted her head eerily. "Ogrenshka," she said in disturbingly high voice, "eto ty?"

"Hespith," Oghren spat, his hammer trembling slightly in his grasp.

"You know this woman?" Eruestan said, his voice cracking slightly.

Oghren nodded. "She's my cousin – and Branka's lover."

"Oh, my," Eruestan said. "Branka has weird taste."

Rowena kept her sword high and gestured to the arm. "Is that Branka?"

Hespith didn't answer her at first, still staring at her eerily with her empty eyes. "Look at you, so pretty and strong," she said finally. "They would choose you first."

"Who would?" Rowena asked sharply. "What are you talking about?"

The dwarf's eyes had started to glass over, and suddenly she was chanting again, only in Fereldan this time. "First day, they come, and catch everyone. Second day, they beat us and eat some for meat. Third day, the men are all gnawed on again. Fourth day, we wait and fear for our fate. Fifth day, they return and it's another girl's turn. Sixth day, her screams we hear in our dreams. Seventh day, she grew as in her mouth they spew. Eighth day we hated as she is violated. Ninth day, she grins and devours her kin. Now she does feast, as she's become the beast."

"What does that mean?" Rowena asked. "What are you saying?"

"It's something about the darkspawn," Eruestan said in alarm. "I don't know what, but that has to be it."

"What happened to you, Heshpa?" Oghren asked. "Where are the others?"

Hespith sat on her knees and smiled at them. "Branka," she said dreamily. "She let them come. There were traps, and she needed more bait to find all of them. So she threw us in the tunnels, let us breed them, let us make our sacrifice for the good of the Dwarva."

"Breed darkspawn," Eruestan whispered. "How is that possible?"

"She's obsessed," Hespith moaned, her smile frozen horribly on her face. "All she could think of was the Forge, we were nothing compared to that. And the screaming won't stop! It won't stop." She grew calm again and picked up the arm once more.

"So she turned on you, too?" Rowena asked, trying to fight the wave of revulsion building in her stomach.

Hespith shook her head, lovingly cradling her prey. "No, no, but she would have. I ran before she had the chance. And then I was lost, with only the shadows and their blood to keep me company." She shook her head and began to wail. "All these things she's done – and I let her do them! Blessed Stone, forgive me. Forgive my lack of strength!"

"What are we supposed to do?" Eruestan whispered.

"There's nothing we can do," Rowena said. The woman's eyes were following her own, and she had the unsettling feeling that she was looking at her like her next meal. "We should keep moving – Branka must be nearby, there's no way she made it too far on her own."

"They'll come for you!" Hespith shrieked suddenly. "Just like they came for everyone else! And then they'll find me, and make me one of them, too!"

"We can't leave her like this," Eruestan whispered. "It'd be cruel."

"You're right," Rowena said. "Oghren, do you—"

"Let me take care of it," he said grimly, setting down his warhammer. He approached his cousin slowly, hands held out in front of him. "There, there, nice and easy," he said gently, kneeling down next to her. "Tikhe, tikhe…"

"Ogrenshka," she said sweetly, almost like a little girl. "Everything is so dark."

"I know, Heshpa, I know." He jerked his arm forward suddenly, and she froze. Then her face relaxed, and her eyes closed. Oghren pulled his dagger back and placed it into its sheath before rising to his feet. The three of them stared at her in silence for a moment. "I used to take the piss out of her when she was a kid," he said gruffly. "Always said she read too much."

Eruestan put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Oghren."

"I am, too," Rowena said softly.

He grunted and picked up his hammer again. "Worse things happen every day down here," he said. "No use cryin' about it. We should keep movin' through these tunnels. Sounds like Branka's got a lot to answer for."

He started to make his way towards the tunnel heading out from the other end of the cave. Rowena looked over at Eruestan, who was trembling like a leaf. "Are you all right?" she asked.

He nodded, snapping his fingers to extinguish the ball of light. "Rowena, what's going on?"

She reached out in the dim light and squeezed his arm. "I have no idea," she admitted. "And I think it's only going to get worse."

He laughed humorlessly and began to follow Oghren. They left Hespith's body lying there in peace, her chant somehow still echoing in the air.

They climbed through the tunnels in silence for a while, each lost in thought. Hespith's poem was burned in Rowena's brain – she had the bizarre feeling of almost, but not quite, understanding what she meant. Something awful was going on – what that was, though, she couldn't say.

Something in the tunnel, however, was clearly very wrong. The ground was now thick with sludge, and even the air seemed to be tainted. The whispering that had plagued her since they had first entered the roads now seemed stronger and more persistent, rolling in like waves at the back of her mind. "It's driving me crazy," she muttered finally, pressing the heel of her hand against her forehead.

"I know," Eruestan said wearily. "I can't take much more of this."

"Me neither," Oghren spat. "It's like a bunch of humpin' cats."

The two Wardens looked at each other. "What do you mean, Oghren?" Eruestan asked. "You can't hear what we hear – it's linked to being a Grey Warden."

The dwarf snorted. "Well, slap some griffon wings on my ass, then, because I've been hearin' that blighted moaning for the past thirty minutes."

"Moaning?" Rowena said. She stopped and tried to pay close attention to what she was hearing, focusing on blocking out the call of the Taint. Sure enough, buried beneath the song in her head was a faint chorus of low, unending moans that seemed to be snaking its way through the tunnels and passages.

"Maybe it's just the wind?" Eruestan offered.

"Nothing's just the wind anymore," Rowena said grimly. "Be on your guard, everyone."

They began to slowly advance through the tunnels, expecting to find new horrors at every turn. Twistedly, the groaning only seemed to grow stronger the slower they went, until soon it was all Rowena was able to hear. More than anything, those moans sent a flood of shivers down her spine. They bizarrely followed the same rhythm as the song in her head, the two melding together in a terrible, intoxicating hymn. "It's getting close," she said, clutching her head. There were screams in her thoughts now, too, horrible screams that punctuated the melody. "I don't know what it is, but…"

Her voice trailed off. She opened her mouth to say something, to scream, but nothing came out. They were standing on a ledge, as if someone had just cut part of the wall away from the tunnel. The ledge looked out onto a large cavern, lit by crystals that stretched up into a ceiling that vanished out of sight. But Rowena did not look up – none of them did.

The cave was filled with…things. Monsters. Hideous, moaning blobs of flesh. Their ledge was a good thirty feet in the air, but the things had to be at least seven feet tall, morbidly fat beasts that rose out of the ground like stalagmites. They were covered in bile, their skin rotten, bruised, scratched. Each body was covered in repugnantly fat breasts, each suckling a darkspawn. They were all different: the ones near the back were bald and amorphous, but the closer they were the more likely they were to have hair, a face, the remnants of clothing. As her mouth lay open in its silent scream, the thing closest to Rowena lolled its head towards her, staring at her with empty, gouged-out eyes…

She ran forward blindly, throwing herself into the tunnel in front of them, away from the moans, away from the horror. She retched, again and again, the sound masked by the groaning. Beside her, Eruestan was retching, too, his hands clamped over his ears. "That's what they do," she screamed, her voice almost lost in the noise. She didn't know who she was yelling for – herself, her friends, those creatures? "They take women – and they turn them into those…those…"

"It's too much," Eruestan kept saying. "This is too much. I can't – I don't…"

It was a greater horror than she had ever had to face. Was that the fate that awaited her? Would she, too, spend the rest of her life trapped in a cave, screaming in vain while darkspawn climbed over her body? Every one of those things had been a woman, and now they had been condemned by the Blight, violated, twisted beyond all recognition. "We have to help them," she moaned to no one, even though she knew there was no help anymore, that the world had gone dark. "We can't…we can't just…"

All of a sudden someone was stuffing something into her ears. She sat up and watched as Oghren stuffed wads of fabric into Eruestan's ears as well before offering her a flask. She took it obediently, too busy enjoying the silence to worry about where it came from, and took a swig. It was vile, but suddenly she felt calmer, only slightly more in control. After giving a drink to Eruestan, Oghren dragged both of them to their feet and led them away up the tunnel.

They stumbled along for a while in the silence, too numbed to react any differently. Finally, they reached another small grotto where Oghren made them stop. "Probably should take a rest," he said gruffly. "Just wanted to get away from that damn noise."

Rowena looked at Eruestan, who was sniffling into the sleeve of his robes. Normally she would feel embarrassed, breaking down like that, but not then. "It's over," Eruestan said finally. "We're not going to make it."

"Yes, we are," Oghren said.

"No, we're not," Rowena said. She was shivering; all the heat seemed to have left the tunnels. "I'm done being brave, I'm done being strong. We can't fight this."

"Yes, you can," Oghren said.

"Those poor women," Eruestan said hopelessly. "You saw how many darkspawn there were – we couldn't have saved them even if we tried."

"We can't save anyone," Rowena said. "Not if they can do that. Death was bad enough – if they can do that, though…what's the point?"

"Will you two nugfuggers listen to yourselves?" Oghren barked. They looked up at him in wonder, as if he was the first person they'd ever heard speak. "What's the point? What's the point? You're the bleedin' point! That shit down there is why we have you around!"

"Oghren," Eruestan said, "we can't—"

"If not you, who, then?" he said. "Who? If the kid who can shoot lighting out of his hands and the girl with the fancy sword can't do it, who can? Some kid who's never held a blade before? Some young girl who's just going to get dragged down here and turned into one of them herself?" They didn't answer, each suddenly deeply ashamed. "Yes, that's the worst damn thing I've seen," Oghren growled. "And I'll be damned if it doesn't make me want to blast my bleedin' brain in, but I won't, because this isn't the first Blight Orzammar's been through and it won't be the last, and if I don't step up then a whole lot of people are gonna die instead of me. When you're faced with that, you don't get to say 'you can't', because right now, you have to."

Rowena sat there for a moment, hugging herself in the dark. "I don't know if it was the speech or the ale, Oghren," she said. "But you're right. I'm sorry you had to see that from us."

"I am, too," Eruestan said quietly. "You were right – we don't have the luxury of being weak."

"Well, let's not make it a sob fest, I don't do hugs," Oghren grunted. "You wanna take a moment?"

The two Wardens looked at each other and shook their heads. "We should get moving," Rowena said, standing up. "Branka has to be nearby – and she has some explaining to do."