A/N: Only a day off the biweekly schedule this time, so not bad! A belated Halloween present for you all: a fight with the Broodmother! Hope everyone enjoys.
As always, thanks to those who've read, favorited, and followed the story. Hope to hear what you think as well!
Special thanks to those who reviewed: Ioialoha, Candle in the Night, Kenjie11, anbj1388, SquishyPenguin12, and Spartan DJB. And Spartan, since I can't reply to you directly, I will do it here: I agree with you, this is easily one of the most creepy and disturbing parts of the game!
PLEASE REVIEW! GIFT FIC TO 150TH REVIEWER!
Anyway, on with the chapter! We should be out of the Deep Roads by end of the next chapter and moving on from Orzammar finally!
Disclaimer: Don't own Dragon Age's original characters or dialogue. Do own Ayla and everything else.
Chapter 38: Paragon of Her Kind
The smell was the worst part, Ayla decided, as she leaned over with her hands braced on the ground, breathing deeply to steady herself. The sight of the broodmother was horrible, certainly, as it was an enormous creature, bald, fleshy, with many disgusting udders dangling from its rolls of flesh, tentacles protruding from the ground around it. The squelching sounds that came from its movement as it flopped back and forth in place, screeching, were horrendous, too. As was the fairly certain knowledge that the broodmother had once been a dwarf named Laryn. That part she could at least try to bury in her mind and not think about. But the smell? She couldn't escape it.
She'd thought that the Deep Roads themselves smelled bad, as well as all the decaying bits of flesh and corpses they'd passed on the way here. None of those had anything on this creature. It smelled like something rotting, dying, already dead, or perhaps a combination of all three. It smelled like a thousand decaying corpses on a humid summer battlefield. She was sure it was the smell combined with the sheer abomination of nature that had caused her stomach to rebel.
Now that her stomach was empty, however, the nausea seemed to be gone, or at least not noticeable compared to before. She was taking a few more steadying breaths when she heard Alistair say, "Oh, Maker, what is that?" behind her. She was about to move to look at him when he exclaimed, "Ayla!" and she felt him drop down next to her, rubbing a hand along her back.
Just his touch gave her strength, a feeling of comfort and relief that pierced through the horror and the terror she was feeling - or rather trying very hard not to feel. "I won't let that happen to you," he whispered in her ear. "I swear it to you. But can you promise me something?"
She rocked back so she was sitting on her heels and could look him in the eye. "What?"
He met her gaze, a determined look blooming in his eyes. "If . . . something goes wrong down here and it looks like we won't get out, I want you to run. I want you to shift and run away, leave us behind. Please."
She shook her head violently, even as the terrified part of her shamed her by wanting to agree. "No! I won't leave you behind! I won't leave any of you behind!"
He gripped her hands in his tightly, the look on his face a mixture of both terror for her and open pleading. "Please. You heard what Hespith said; they'll just kill us. You . . they'll turn you into . . . that." He jerked his head at the broodmother. "I can't – I can't bear to even think of it, okay? So promise me."
She could feel his hands shake in hers, even as he gripped them so tightly her hands were starting to hurt as she stared at him. She could hear Aedan asking Morrigan the same thing in a low voice – "If you have to, fly away and don't come back for us. Get away as fast as you can," – as her self-preservation warred with her fear of losing Alistair.
After a long moment, she nodded, slowly, reluctantly. She already knew she couldn't let herself become that thing, so if she had to, she would run. But – "Only if I absolutely have to," she vowed quietly. "Only if there's no other way out. And I don't think that will happen."
He let out a breath, relief flashing across his face as he nodded. "I don't think it will, either, but I'd rather know you will be safe if it did." He stood up, pulling her easily to her feet. "Are you okay to fight?"
She nodded. "I feel better now that my stomach is empty. Just . . . one thing." She stepped forward so there was no distance between the two of them, pressing her nose into the bare flesh of his neck above his armor, breathing in deeply. She was desperate to fill her senses with something other than that smell, even if it was only temporary. And there were few smells she liked better in this world than his.
He held her tightly while she breathed him in, one hand pressed to her head and the other to her back. She felt his lips press into her hair before she finally pulled away. She turned to the others and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, everyone, but the smell was a bit too much for me."
"There is no need to apologize," Leliana replied, looking a bit green herself. "It is bad enough for me, so I can only imagine how it must be for you."
The others all nodded in agreement, and the broodmother chose that opportunity to screech loudly again as it flailed its tentacles around. Aedan scowled and looked over his shoulder at it. "Well, it appears that it can't move to come attack us, but neither can we just leave it there. It will only create more darkspawn."
Wynne nodded in grim agreement. "If I understood Hespith correctly, that thing used to be a dwarf woman. If any part of her can still understand what is going on, I am certain she would appreciate being put out of her misery."
Sten reached for his greatsword, unsheathing it as he strode forward. "It is an abomination, and should be destroyed."
"Not to mention, that shrieking is probably calling other darkspawn here," Alistair added as he drew his own sword, readying his shield. "We should stop it before we get swarmed."
"What are we waiting for then?" Oghren demanded, before storming forward and chopping at a tentacle. The creature shrieked in pain as the tentacle recoiled for a moment before lashing back and knocking Oghren to the ground.
Ayla drew her own swords and raced forward to his aid, as did the others, though they were soon all facing tentacles of their own. They seemed to multiply out of the ground around them as they got closer to the broodmother, and Ayla couldn't help but notice that the ground around her seemed to be made of flesh as well. Was all of it part of the creature?
She didn't have time to dwell on it, however, as she had to dodge, roll, and flip out of the way of the lashing tentacles. She tried at first just to get past them to the broodmother itself, to end the creature at its source, but it kept itself well defended. And as Alistair had predicted, darkspawn were soon racing out of the tunnels behind it to join the fight.
She cut down a genlock as it came howling at her, then stumbled forward from a lash to the back by a tentacle. She was briefly considering shifting to increase her speed, although it would be a drain on her strength, when she saw Alistair get knocked towards another tentacle by a blow from a Hurlock. The tentacle was curling itself forward, looking as though it intended to scoop him up, and she froze for a brief, shameful moment, torn between wanting to save him and terrified of what would happen to her if she got in the way.
Then the thought of what would happen to him broke through and she lurched forward, racing to help him, but before she got there, Zevran appeared and shoved him out of the way. The tentacle wrapped itself around Zevran and lifted him into the air, pulling him towards the broodmother as it squeezed and the elf cried out in pain, his head slumping forward as the tentacle squeezed harder yet.
She veered towards Zevran instead; she couldn't let something happen to him either, especially not when he'd done what she should have. She spun out of the way of more darkspawn and another tentacle as she went. Alistair, obviously seeing where she was going, took down another darkspawn trying to get in her way and did his best to clear a path for her.
She shifted as she ran, making a split second decision, and the panther leaped with full force at the tentacle bringing Zevran towards the broodmother. She hit it dead on, digging in with her front claws and raking the length of the tentacle below Zevran as she fell back down to the ground. The broodmother let out a terrible scream and the tentacle released the elf. He fell to the ground with a thud.
She pounced on another Hurlock going for his prone form and snapped its neck with her jaws, careful not to break the thing's skin, before shifting back as quickly as she could. She didn't want to stay in that form any longer than she had to in a lengthy fight. She sucked in a breath from the agonizing wrench of the quick change, and might have been hit in that brief, paralyzing moment if Oghren hadn't leaped between her and the next darkspawn, swinging his greataxe at its head.
She took the opportunity to grab Zevran under his arms and pull him out of the way, dragging him back to where Wynne stood, casting spells. Alistair had covered her retreat as soon as he had been able to, with Oghren's help. Although he was clearly injured and unconscious, she was incredibly relieved to note that Zevran appeared to be still alive and breathing. She left him with Wynne, who whistled for Striker to help guard the two of them while the mage alternated between attacking the darkspawn and healing Zevran when she had a brief moment.
Ayla headed back into the fight, noticing that the number of both tentacles and darkspawn finally seemed to be decreasing. She just might be able to make it through to the broodmother itself. She was determined to reach it and end the fight, to redeem herself for what she had almost let happen due to her cowardice and fear. She would not hesitate again.
She had nearly reached the broodmother's body, swords out and at the ready, when she heard a piercing scream. Was that – Morrigan? she wondered, startled. She whipped around quickly, and saw it was indeed Morrigan who had screamed, a mix of grief and fury on her face. She followed the line of her friend's gaze and saw Aedan with a darkspawn's sword piercing forward through his chest, as he dropped to his knees and hit the ground face-first. He'd been facing two darkspawn in front and obviously hadn't seen the blow from behind. The darkspawn that had struck the blow appeared to have fallen to one of Leliana's arrows just seconds afterwards.
A sudden powerful burst of electrical energy shot forth from Morrigan and blasted through all the darkspawn and tentacles surrounding Aedan's fallen body. It obliterated everything in its path within a matter of seconds, and the broodmother shrieked again, flailing wildly about. Just barely rolling out of the way of another tentacle, having been distracted by her friend's grief, Ayla knew it was now or never.
She sprinted forward, as fast as she could ever remember going as a human, and leapt, landing swords first halfway up the broodmother. It gave another terrible scream, reaching for her with one of its hands, as its remaining tentacles appeared to be occupied, but she pulled a sword out, gripping hard to the other one, and slashed at its hand, knocking it out of the way.
She climbed up towards its head as quickly as she could, feeling the creature getting weaker with every sword stab. She had just reached the top of it and leapt onto its back behind its head when Sten buried his greatsword in the front of the creature, as high as he could reach, yanking viciously downwards as a fountain of ichor-like blood spurted out. It let out a keening, gurgling cry as she stood behind its head and finished the job by slitting its throat with her swords.
The creature's head slumped forward onto its neck; its arms fell limply by its sides and the few remaining tentacles the others were still battling came crashing to the ground. From her vantage point, she could see that there were only three remaining darkspawn, which were quickly cut down by the rest of the party on the ground.
She took a quick look to make sure that Alistair was one of the ones still on his feet; he was and as soon as she noted that, she jumped down. The shock of the landing, as the broodmother's head had been surprisingly high up, reverberated through her feet and up her legs, nearly making her fall forward. She was able to stay upright, though, and after a moment, hurried over to where Aedan had fallen. Alistair was right behind her, and Morrigan was already kneeling at Aedan's side, his head cradled in her lap as she cast healing magic.
"Morrigan." She knelt next to her friend, carefully touching her arm. "How – how bad is he?"
The darkspawn sword had been removed and tossed aside, but the hole in his chest was still there, alarmingly large and oozing blood at an equally alarming rate. Morrigan's whole body glowed blue, a glow that passed into the wound as she cast her spell. "I – I believe he will live." Morrigan's voice sounded shaky and not at all like herself, but there was a hard edge of determination in her stare when she looked up.
Alistair's hand landed on Ayla's shoulder and he squeezed; she put her hand over his and squeezed back, looking up into his eyes. They were burning with worry and grief, making her heart ache for him even as she herself worried about Aedan; he was her friend too. "He's going to be okay," she told him softly. "You Wardens are strong, remember? But maybe you should see if Wynne can come help, if Zevran is all right now."
"Right," he took a deep breath, nodding in agreement, before releasing her shoulder. "I'll go get her. And – here." He took a healing potion out of his pouch and handed it to her before he turned and went looking for Wynne.
Ayla had two left herself; she dug one out of her pouch also, leaving one behind in case of a later emergency, before looking up at Morrigan. "Will these help?"
The witch nodded. "They – they would be a good supplement for the spell, especially if they are the more potent ones I made recently. If you are able to, could you - ?"
"I've got it," Ayla interrupted gently. She set one potion down, opening the other and carefully tilting Aedan's head up before pouring it down his throat. She repeated the action with the other potion and was relieved to note that the blood flow had slowed dramatically and the wound had shrunk, albeit only a small amount.
The others had begun to gather around them by this time, followed shortly by Wynne and Alistair. Zevran was still over where he had been earlier, though Ayla was pleased to see that he was sitting up. "Zevran is conscious and able to move, though still not fully recovered," Wynne reported as she reached them. "Everyone else is well enough."
Ayla moved out of the way so that Wynne could assess Aedan's condition and help Morrigan. As Alistair pulled her to her feet, Sten came up to him. "If he is able to be moved, we should retreat to a more defensible position. Other darkspawn may soon follow, and this is not an ideal location to continue the fight."
Not to mention we aren't in any condition to fight more right now, Ayla thought, just barely managing to refrain from rolling her eyes. What they needed right now was to rest before they pressed on further looking for Branka.
"You're right," Alistair replied. "We should move back to that stone hall with the altar where we found the key. There should be no more shades in it and it only has one door. It would be the best place to rest until we're all recovered and able to go on."
Sten nodded, looking satisfied with Alistair's answer. "A wise decision, Warden. Shall we go?"
Alistair looked down at the two mages, who were now both casting healing spells on the unconscious Warden. "Can he be moved?"
"Give us a few minutes," Wynne answered, sounding slightly breathless. "Once we get the wound closed, we should be able to move him, and we can finish the healing when we get him somewhere safer."
"Okay, keep going." Alistair turned back to Ayla and the others. "Let's get something rigged so we can move him easier. Some cloaks, maybe, tied to staffs or spears."
Everyone began to look around for things that they could use; Ayla headed back over to where the broodmother lay dead, as she was fairly certain she'd seen a Hurlock wielding a spear near there. She had just reached the dead Hurlock in question, which did have a spear laying next to it, when she heard a clatter of falling rocks coming from the ledge above the broodmother's head. The creature had been in front of a rock wall with a ledge and open space above it; Ayla didn't know what lay behind, however. She drew her swords and looked up.
A familiar voice floated down from above. "That's where they come from." It was Hespith, looking sadly down at the body of the broodmother below her. She looked up and met Ayla's eyes, the dull silver clearer than she had yet seen it. "That's why they hate us . . . that's why they need us. That's why they take us . . . that's why they feed us." She looked away, towards one of the tunnels where the other darkspawn had emerged. "But the true abomination . . . is not that it occurred, but that it was allowed. Branka . . . my love . . ."
Hespith looked down at Ayla again, before turning around and taking a few steps behind her, towards the open space, as she continued to speak. "The Stone has punished me, dream-friend. I am dying of something worse than death. Betrayal." She looked back at Ayla once more, smiling sadly before she turned around again. Ayla suddenly realized what she was about to do.
"No! Wait!" She cried, scrambling towards the rock wall and trying to climb up, but before she could, the dwarf woman jumped and disappeared from view. A few seconds later, Ayla heard a distant and sickening thud from behind the rock wall.
She leaned her forehead against the cool rock, taking a few deep breaths, though she did her best not to breathe through her nose. The smell of the broodmother had not improved with actual death. She knew that Hespith had been as badly off as Ruck, if not worse, and there was nothing that could have been done any longer to save her. But that still didn't seem to keep her from feeling as though she should have stopped the dwarf from jumping to her death. How many more people would she see die down here?
She shook her head, ordering herself to stop dwelling on those she couldn't save. Aedan was more important right now. He could still be helped. She turned around and picked up the spear, heading back to Alistair and the others. She left the spear with him so that he could fashion a makeshift litter to carry Aedan on while she went to check on Zevran, feeling ultimately responsible for his condition.
He was still sitting where the others had left him, looking pale and exhausted, though he smiled when she approached. "Ayla, my dear, how are you?"
"I'm fine, thank you." She sat down next to him. "How are you feeling?"
He shrugged. "I have had much worse wounds, I assure you. I will be just fine."
She smiled, shaking her head at him. "That is not what I asked."
"Ah." He grinned unapologetically. "I suppose it is not. As you wish, then; I am sore and tired, but I will live. I can move as soon as you are ready. How is our leader?"
"I think he will be all right, as well, once they are done healing him." She bumped his shoulder gently with her own. "Thank you, by the way. For saving Alistair. I – I hesitated when I saw what was going on. For a moment, I was too afraid to help." She bowed her head in shame, unable to meet Zevran's eyes.
She felt his hand on her chin; he pushed her head up gently to meet his gaze. There was no judgment in it, only understanding. "Do not be ashamed," he said quietly. "You had every right to be afraid, knowing what these darkspawn might do to you. I was afraid for you, as well. I do not want to think of such a fate befalling you, or any of the others." He indicated the broodmother behind her with a wave of his hand as he let go of her. "Besides, I am told that you saved me after I saved your Warden. There is no reason for you to feel guilty."
"Thank you." She was incredibly relieved that he did not think poorly of her after her confession. She had been afraid that the others would all think her a coward, as she now feared she was becoming. She would need to be stronger, she reminded herself. Her father had said she would face many trials, after all. She could not let herself be ruled by fear of the unnatural fates that might befall her here. She would do her best not to allow it anymore, but it was good to know that she had Zevran's support if she needed it.
She leaned over and kissed Zevran's cheek gently. He looked at her in surprise as she sat back. "Thank you, again," she said by way of explanation. "I owe you more than I can ever repay."
He shook his head. "You do not owe me anything, my dear. You are the reason I am still alive, after all. And we are friends, no?"
"We are," she agreed, nodding. "So you are going to tell me one day why you tried to die at the hands of the Wardens."
He blinked for a moment before smiling sadly. "One day, yes. Perhaps when we get back to Orzammar and I can have too much dwarven ale at that tavern."
"I'll hold you to that," she replied, before looking over to where Aedan was and seeing that Alistair and Sten were hoisting him up on the makeshift litter. "It looks like it's time for us to go."
She helped Zevran to his feet, and though he protested, she insisted on helping to support him on the way back to the hall where they would rest. It was obvious that although he could walk, he was still in pain, and she remembered how much an injury like that could hurt even after a healing spell had been performed. She also knew that Wynne hadn't fully healed it, having saved her energy for Aedan's more serious wound. So she turned a deaf ear to her elven friend's protests and helped him the whole way until they reached the room.
Once they had arrived, Alistair and Sten set Aedan down in a corner on a pile of blankets and cloaks hastily rigged up to make him more comfortable. Morrigan and Wynne went back to healing his wounds, while Alistair set up a watch schedule and Leliana and Oghren went to go scout for more potions or potion ingredients. Ayla set Zevran down in another corner to rest before she went to check on Alistair, who was putting together food from their packs to eat. Sten was standing watch with Striker at the door into the hall.
"How are you doing?" she asked him when she reached him.
He smiled up at her, though his face was lined with weariness. "I'm fine. I didn't take any major hits in the battle, luckily."
She sighed. She didn't want to confess to him what she had told Zevran, but she didn't want to keep it a secret, either, knowing that it would eat at her. So she blurted out, "About that. I – I hesitated before I went to help you, because . . . . I was scared. I'm sorry. I'm so sor–"
"Ayla, stop." He tugged on her arm, pulling her into his lap, and she went willingly, only too happy to allow them both the comfort. "I don't blame you for hesitating, or being afraid. I wouldn't even blame you if you had run. What could have happened to you is far worse than what could have happened to me. The fact that you came to help me at all is – amazing. So don't feel guilty about it. There's no need."
She looked him in the eyes, noting the absolute sincerity and belief in her that shone in them. She still didn't know what she'd done to deserve that belief, but she'd do everything she could to keep it. "That's what Zevran said, too."
"Then the assassin and I agree on something for once." He smiled when she couldn't help but laugh at that. "Don't get used to it."
"I won't." She pried herself out of his grip, though not without regret. "Why don't you go rest, let me do this? You have enough to worry about right now."
"No, I'm fine," he insisted, continuing to sort out the dried meals that passed for food lately. "I'm more hungry than tired, and we'll have time to rest before Aedan is able to go, anyway."
"Aedan will be all right, then?" she asked. She had suspected he would be, but it was a relief to have it confirmed.
He nodded, the same relief she felt reflecting in his face. "Wynne is certain of it, now, she says. She thinks he'll be up on his feet, though not quite fully back to normal, after a full day's rest. So we'll move on when he's ready, see if Branka's beyond that room."
"I think she is." Ayla told him what Hespith had said, and the way she had looked towards that tunnel, as though Branka was somewhere past there.
"Let's hope that's what it meant," Alistair replied. "That would mean we're finally close. I want to get this over with as soon as possible."
She nodded, in full agreement with him on that one. "We'll move on as soon as we can, find Branka, and get out of here. I don't want to be down here any longer than we have to."
"We won't," he promised her, his tone firm. "We are all getting out of here, together."
"Yes, we will," she agreed, determined to make it come true however she had to as she set to helping him with the evening meal.
As she did so, she did her best to convince herself he must be right. They couldn't have come this far and made it through so much to fail, after all. She wouldn't allow it, and neither would any of the others. They were leaving the Deep Roads, and they would leave them with the support they had come for. She would make sure of it, no matter what had to be done.
Alistair got up quietly and headed over to where Zevran was keeping watch. It was the second night they had spent here in the hall, having given Aedan his day to recover, and they would be leaving shortly as soon as the others began to wake up. Ayla was still sleeping soundly, having taken the watch before Zevran, so Alistair thought now would be the best time for him to talk to the elf without her overhearing.
"Zevran," he greeted quietly as he approached the elf where he stood at the entrance to the hall.
The assassin nodded formally in return, looking faintly suspicious, which Alistair couldn't really blame him for. He'd never approached Zevran just to talk, unless it had been to warn him away from Ayla. "Alistair."
Alistair hesitated, not quite sure how to begin what he wanted to say, and after a moment of awkward silence, Zevran looked at him with raised brows. "I imagine you had a purpose in coming over here, yes?"
"Well, yes, I did," Alistair replied slowly. "I wanted to start by thanking you for what you did in the fight with the broodmother."
"You are most welcome, my Warden friend, but I did not do it for your sake." The elf glanced behind them to where the others slept, his gaze falling on Ayla, asleep where Alistair had left her. "She was coming to intervene, and I simply wanted to ensure her safety."
Alistair nodded. That was what he'd expected to hear, and the reason he'd come over to talk to Zevran in the first place. "That's why I'm grateful. You made sure nothing happened to her. I care more about her safety than I do about what might happen to me."
Zevran studied him for a moment. "Hmm. I believe you truly mean that. Perhaps you are worthy of her, after all."
"I don't know about that," Alistair answered honestly. "But I am trying to be." He still thought of her at times as a gift from the Maker, or even that Goddess of hers, though he still wasn't sure how he had gotten so lucky. That did not mean he had any intention of giving her up, however. He cleared his throat. "I . . . had a favour to ask you."
"Oh?" Zevran regarded him with open skepticism this time. "What favour might that be?"
"If something happens to me down here . . . or later, when we're fighting the Blight," Alistair began carefully, "I would like you to keep her safe. Make sure that nothing happens to her or that she doesn't . . . do something drastic."
"You would trust me with such a task?" Zevran asked quietly.
Alistair shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Look, I know we haven't exactly . . . gotten along, and I didn't trust you when you first joined. But, I know now that I can trust you with her life."
The elf nodded, answering soberly, "Indeed, you can. It would be my honour. I swear that I will keep her safe if it is within my power." He placed his hand over his heart in the formal manner he had used with Aedan when first joining the party.
"Thank you," Alistair said sincerely, feeling distinctly relieved. He did not intend to have anything happen to him, but he did feel a great deal better knowing that the elf would be looking out for Ayla if something did. "I owe you. If you need a favour in return, anything, just ask."
"Anything?" Zevran repeated, looking surprised. "What if I should ask you to kill someone for me?"
"Well, I would hope you would not entirely abuse the favour," Alistair replied dryly, "but when I said anything, I meant it. That's how much this means to me."
"Your devotion to her does you credit, my friend," Zevran murmured. "Now, perhaps you should go back to her before she wakes up and wonders what you are doing, no? She would not be happy if she knew what you have asked of me."
"No, you're right about that," Alistair agreed, smiling faintly at the thought of what she might have to say if she heard about it. "You know," he went on as he turned to leave, "you don't have to feel obligated to stay any more. Aedan wouldn't hold you to that oath any longer; you've fulfilled any debt you might have owed us. If you want to leave, we wouldn't hold it against you, but, we could use a friend who wants to help out."
"A friend?" Zevran smiled, for once a genuine smile instead of the smirk he usually directed at Alistair, before he chuckled. "Yes, I suppose I could stay as a friend. Anyway, it would be most difficult to fulfill my promise to look after her if I left now. No, I will stay and see this out."
"I appreciate it. All of it," Alistair told him. Zevran waved him off, looking almost faintly embarrassed, so Alistair went, making his way over to where the others slept. As he got closer, he saw that Aedan was up and gathering his things together, a bit slower than he might have normally, but he looked otherwise fine.
"Do you feel up to moving on?" Alistair asked as he reached him. They hadn't talked much yesterday, as he'd allowed Aedan to rest with Morrigan while he directed the others in the preparations for today. He'd only made sure that Aedan agreed with the length of the wait.
Aedan stretched and twisted experimentally, wincing, but he nodded. "Yes, I should be able to manage. Sorry for worrying all of you."
"Well, you never did punch me, so we're probably even on that score," Alistair answered, grinning. "Besides, I got the feeling that they were going after us specifically in that fight, so it couldn't really be helped."
"You're probably right," Aedan sighed, stuffing a few more things in his pack and strapping his sword on. "I'm sure we are the number one priority for the darkspawn right now, unfortunately. So let's get everyone up and move on before something else goes wrong."
Alistair nodded in agreement, and the two of them proceeded to get the rest of the party to their feet. Almost everything had been packed and made ready last night, so it only took a few moments for everyone to eat and gather their things. Once done, they left the hall and moved back to the room where they'd faced the broodmother.
Everything was as they'd left, including the corpses; no new darkspawn had appeared, though Alistair had made sure with the help of some of the others that this room stayed clear. They went to the tunnel that Ayla pointed out as being the one Hespith had indicated, and followed it through the rock walls beyond.
Oghren, who was in the lead with Alistair and Aedan, whispered as it began to get lighter up ahead, "If Branka is anywhere, this has to be it. She will not be unprepared."
"Well, let's hope she's actually here," Aedan muttered, and Alistair snorted in agreement. He'd had enough of looking everywhere for this woman.
Around the next bend, the tunnel opened out into a larger stone cavern. Alistair noted a rocky ledge on the wall across from the entrance just before the last of their party entered the room, which was followed shortly thereafter by the sound of rocks falling. They all turned quickly to look, just in time to see the rocks cover the only way back
"Oh, good, now we're trapped in here," Ayla grumbled as she came up next to him, a faint trace of worry in her eyes. Alistair took her hand, both for his sake and hers, and was about to reply when they heard the sound of a voice from the other side of the room.
"Let me blunt. After all this time, my tolerance for social graces is rather limited. I hope you understand." Standing on the ledge across from the now caved-in entrance was a dwarven woman. She was outfitted fully in heavy dwarven plate armor, with short reddish-brown hair plaited in two and, unlike Hespith, she looked perfectly healthy, although Alistair still didn't quite like the look in her eyes.
"Shave my back and call me an elf!" Oghren exclaimed as he noticed the woman. "Branka? By the Stone, I barely recognized you!"
So, they'd found Branka at last, Alistair thought, sighing with relief. He squeezed Ayla's hand and she smiled up at him, looking equally relieved. All they needed was to get her approval for Bhelen and they could finally leave. He couldn't help but notice, however, that she didn't seem pleased to find them there.
"Oghren," she sniffed disdainfully, gazing down at her husband. "It figures you'd eventually find your way here. Hopefully, you can find your way back more easily." She turned to look at Aedan, who had stepped forward to speak to her. "And how shall I address you? Hired sword of the latest lordling to come looking for me? Or just the only one who didn't mind Oghren's ale-breath?"
"Be respectful, woman!" Oghren snapped before any of them could say anything in response. "You're talking to a Grey Warden!"
Branka raised her eyebrows, though she still looked distinctly unimpressed. "Ah, so an important errand boy, then. I suppose something serious has happened. Is Endrin dead? That seems most likely. He was on the old and wheezy side."
"Yes," Aedan replied slowly, frowning briefly before continuing, "he is dead, and Orzammar needs a new king to help us defend against a Blight."
"A king won't defeat a Blight," Branka scoffed, pacing back and forth on the ledge above them. "We've had forty generations of kings, and lost everything. I don't care if the Assembly puts a drunken monkey on the throne. Because our protector, our great invention, the thing that once made our armies the envy of the world, is lost to the very darkspawn it should be fighting." She turned and gestured to another opening in the cave wall behind her as she went on, "The Anvil of the Void. The means by which the ancients forged their army of golems and held off the first archdemon ever to rise. It's here. So close I can taste it."
Alistair exchanged worried glances with Aedan. It sounded like Branka had lost her mind down here just as surely as anybody else they'd met, only in a different way. Aedan sighed heavily before he addressed Branka again. "So why aren't you at the Anvil of the Void? I suppose there must be some sort of catch?"
Branka dipped her head in acknowledgement. "The Anvil lies on the other side of a gauntlet of traps designed by Caridin himself. My people and I have given body and soul to unlocking its secrets. This is what's important," she declared passionately, throwing her arms wide. "This has lasting meaning. If I succeed, the dwarven people benefit. Kings, politics . . . all that is transitory. I've given up everything and would sacrifice anything to get the Anvil of the Void."
"Anything . . . including Hespith and all the other members of your house who were loyal to you?" Aedan asked coldly, looking vastly unimpressed with the dwarven woman.
"Enough questions!" Branka snapped, slashing her hand through the air. "If you wish me to get involved with this imbecilic election, I must first have the Anvil. There is only one way out, Wardens." She pointed at the entrance she'd been gesturing to earlier. "Forward. Through Caridin's maze and out to where the Anvil waits."
"What has this place done to you?!" Oghren exclaimed, his tone full of despair. "I remember marrying a girl you could talk to for one minute and see her brilliance!"
"I am your Paragon," Branka stated with cold finality, before turning and leaving through the only remaining door, leaving Alistair and the others no choice but to follow the dwarven Paragon they had come so far in search of.