Paragon's Fall
Two things had become rather apparent, and Aedan wasn't sure which surprised him more.
The Dragonbone Wastes, what had at first appeared little more than a shallow valley full of dragon bones - which in itself was a find most Chantry scholars would have knelt before the Black Divine to get their hands on - was decidedly not just a valley full of dragon bones. Hidden away beneath mud and rock, old Tevinter architecture started making itself known and visible the further they ventured into the twisting pathways and steep cliffsides of the Wastes.
Venturing, maybe, was not the right word. More like they followed Caridin as the massive Paragon-construct simply trampled and torched anything stupid enough to rear its head before a fire spewing golem. It was honestly less a fight and more the Darkspawn committing suicide by golem. That was the other thing that had become apparent, though in hindsight maybe it shouldn't have been a surprise at all;
"Having Caridin along really makes this a whole lot easier." Cíada pointed out, putting emphasis on his own realization by wandering forward with little care for danger, safe for making sure she did not step in smeared Darkspawn. Not that he blamed her, though he likely should. Even with Caridin, they were still wading deep into the nest of the so-called Mother, an intelligent Darkspawn.
Those last two were words he'd never thought nor wanted to hear in the same sentence. As they came up upon a plain, lifeless plateau, thoughts of intelligent Darkspawn fled his mind almost entirely. Before them, stretching like a wall from one end of the Wastes to the other, Tevinter Architecture greeted them in all its faded splendour. Talia whistled in appreciation, and honestly he couldn't disagree.
It was a testament to either magic or engineering - or both - that such structures still stood. Like Ostagar it had weathered time itself, though less worse for wear than the ancient fortress to the south. In the centre of it all, as if built after the great beasts had made the place their graveyard, a door provided entrance through chiselled brick and marble. Tall enough that even the Paragon might fit through, and made from wood that - somehow - had not yet rotted away. That'd settle the whole thing on magic, then.
"Companions, we have come to a door." The Paragon thrummed, his voice caught between announcement and simple observation, as if only realizing halfway through his words that the discovery was an obvious one. It was strange, but Aedan actually quite liked Caridin. More so than he'd thought he would a golem; "It is without doubt our quarry makes its nest within."
"Place gives me the fucking creeps…" Templar Boris muttered, hand on the haft of his mace.
"Steady, Ser Boris." His commander admonished him, though Aedan could hear the tightness of her own voice, behind the helm. Even with the gifts of the Grey Wardens, he didn't like the looks of this place. And though highly trained, neither Templar was anything but human; "We've come this far."
"Because of the Paragon killin' everything for us." The grouchy Templar pointed out; "I mean no offence, Ser Caridin."
"None is taken, Templar." The golem hummed, as if bemused; "If I must wander the world, better that I do so with purpose. Destroying the Darkspawn is as good as any, at that."
"Better, I'd say." Aedan heard Talia muttering, likely only meant for her own ears.
"I hope you will agree to my leading this charge, Wardens." Caridin said, with such genuine politeness that Aedan wasn't really sure if it was rhetorical. Did the Paragon think they were any keener on stepping foot into this place?
"By all means, Caridin." Talia said, a revering tone to her voice. Aedan couldn't tell whether it was genuine or not; "You are greatest of us, it is only your due."
"I appreciate such words, Warden." The golem nodded, leading to the noise of metal scraping metal; "Then, let us find our way in the dark, and put an end to this malice."
If anyone had expected the Paragon to be gentle, there was disappointment in store. The door was shattered and torn from its hinges, untold centuries of weathering undone in seconds by Dwarven craftsmanship. Aedan could almost chuckle at the thought of the same, reverent Chantry scholars who'd prostrate themselves before the Black Divine, now tearing at their hair at the destruction of such ancient woodwork.
Within, a hall of broken masonry awaited them. It was strange, how the insides of this place, protected from the elements as they were, seemed worse off than the exterior. The Paragon was first in, and first through the hall, giving little care to the scenic views of the hall, ancient Tevinter carvings illuminated by torchlight. Intelligent Darkspawn…Maker, let these be the last we'll see.
As Caridin lumbered on, Aedan froze in his steps as a figure emerged from the shadows to their left. Taint wafted from its form, his blade already raised when the Darkspawn stepped into the light, freezing him in his steps. This was no Darkspawn, or at least, not yet.
"Fuck me, don't these things ever stop coming out of their damn holes?" Boris cursed.
A ghoul, an elven woman clad in splintmail. He could sense more than saw Talia tensing up, painfully aware of her fear and hatred of these shuffling things. As it was, though, this one did not shuffle, nor did it seem aggressive in the least. It was enough to make him pause, even as Caridin up ahead had come to a stop, maybe sensing they'd stopped following him.
The abomination halted, just beyond the reach of his sword if he'd swung, watching their group with a puzzled, almost disappointed expression. Aedan felt his insides churn at the gaze he felt from those milky eyes.
"A ghoul, Wardens." The Paragon called, maybe thinking they were uncertain on that point.
"I am not so." The ghoul spoke, voice clear and normal enough that he'd never have guessed if not for his own eyes and the stench of the Taint from within her; "I am Seranni, acolyte of the Architect."
"Is…is this for real?" Cíada asked, waving her hand before the ghoul's face, as if to check if the damn thing was blind. A frown was her answer, and she withdrew her hand before it could be gnawed on; "Fuck me, even the ghouls are talking now? What's next, Broodmothers demanding we call them beautiful? Six tits the new norm now?"
"This is what you spoke of, an intelligent Darkspawn?" Caridin had lumbered over, his tone anything but cordial.
"Odd choice of words from a talking statue." The ghoul retorted, raising its…her?…chin at the golem. If there was one thing Aedan had never thought to experience, it was a ghoul returning sass; "I can talk, as you see, golem."
"Speech does not make you an intelligent creature."
"Says the talking statue."
"…ouch." J'zargo huffed.
"How come you're speaking?" Aedan cut in before Caridin would just smear the ghoul over the floor. At least he wanted some actual information first.
"She's Dalish." Cíada interrupted; "Look at her face-markings."
"Same clan as Velanna?" Brelyna asked, of no one and everyone at once, he felt. The ghoul snapped her attention to the Dunmer, and Aedan found himself stepping just a foot closer, so that he could be between them if the creature attacked.
"You carry no taint, yet you look like you would." the ghoul - Seranni - addressed her; "You have met Velanna?"
"I'll take that as a yes." Aedan noted; "Meaning you're like this because of the Architect, right?"
"I…yes." Seranni nodded; "He is kind to me, to all of us who aid him. At first, I was frightened, of what I had become. But his words soothed me, as they did with the others."
"We saw what the Architect's Darkspawn did to your clan." Ser Ava spoke up, her voice hard and tight; "What they did to Velanna. Maker's Mercy that we rescued her from the fate your Architect left her to suffer."
"I know, it was an unkind thing to do. But my sister was always stubborn." Aedan felt his insides shrink and curl, at the thought of knowingly aiding those who did such things to your family. It would be akin to working with Rendon Howe, the treasonous swine; "The Architect is not wasteful, he knew Darkspawn attacks would draw in Grey Wardens, as they have now done."
"I'm really getting the creeps here…" Cíada muttered. It wasn't hard to imagine why Darkspawn would want to lure in Grey Wardens, especially if they were intelligent enough that revenge was an option.
"There is no intelligence here but that of this Architect. Destroying this enslaved vessel would be a final kindness." Caridin boomed; "Allow me, or do so yourselves, Wardens. But do not leave behind this tainted vessel."
"The Architect will explain everything, he awaits you deeper inside these ruins." Seranni continued, as if deaf to the golem's threats; "We only ask that you hear us out."
"We have." Sten stepped up, blade level with the ghoul's throat; "Darkspawn will do not reproduce as others do. You can only grow in numbers with the taking of our women. And Darkspawn are not immortal, so you will take women from the surface, or from the Dwarves."
"From…from Lothering." Carver whispered, terror-stricken in expression as if the notion only now occurred to him; "Maker...my…my whole family."
Carver had never found his family among the ruins of Lothering, Aedan remembered. Suddenly, Talia's words of optimism, that this had to mean they escaped, soured in his mouth. He remembered far too well the Broodmothers of the Deep Roads. A fate worse than death.
"…how can you aid the Architect, knowing what his plans require?" Talia demanded, yet her voice was low enough that it was barely above a whisper, strained and tight. As if she was afraid of raising her voice; "When you know what happens to everyone the Taint touches?"
"Because it is the lesser evil." The smile on Seranni's face was not a cheerful one; "I know, that they have done cruel things. They are like children, you see, come into the world with no understanding of right and wrong."
"And, what, you're teaching them to behave?" Carver spat, malice and anger coating his words; "To play nice?"
"I am helping them understand the world, yes." If Seranni - and Aedan was finding it harder now to not refer to the ghoul as such - took offense at the other Warden's tone, she did not show it; "Isn't ending the Blights, once and for all, a worthy goal?"
"Doubtful." Sten muttered; "Men, elves, dwarves and Qunari, we evolve. Darkspawn do not. Each Blight has been less of a threat than the one before. You are parasites and animals, little more."
"That is no longer true." The ghoul insisted; "Yes, the Darkspawn are of beastial nature, but I have seen them overcome it. They can overcome it."
"There is no overcoming nature." Sten retorted, sounding halfway between bored and mildly irritated; "I tire of this chattering, we should slay the ghoul and be on our way."
"Can't we cure her?" it surprised him, hearing J'zargo make the suggestion. The cat-man turned to Brelyna; "This one heard Brelyna did work on the sick in Amaranthine."
"I don't think it works at this stage, J'zargo…" the Dunmeri girl shook her head; "She is already a ghoul."
"It is time I returned to my work." Seranni stole his attention when she spoke, mostly because there was no asking for leave in her voice. There was only certainty, like a man stating much the same of returning to his fields; "The Architect waits for you ahead."
"Do not allow her…-" Caridin was already moving, but Seranni was gone, melted into the shadows of the wall, gone from sight. Aedan stared at the wall, trying to discern what exactly had just happened. Leliana had been able to melt into the shadows, but she'd still been there, just hard to spot.
"I hate it when they do that…" Cíada cursed.
"She escaped."
"For now." Aedan muttered, sheathing his blade again; "We'll find her, sooner or later. Let's go."
The door at the end of the hallways suffered no worse nor better a fate than the first one. The only exception was that a Hurlock was on the other side, and got caught in the blast as Caridin pummelled in the wooden frame.
Beyond the door, a stairway hugged the insides of what looked like a tower, leading deeper into the bowels of the world. Darkspawn occupied it, rushing up the stony steps at the golem's entrance. Caridin was, however, a golem. His weight alone crumbled the stonework as he took his first steps down, leading to a sight not unlike wading down a muddy hill. The Darkspawn on the staircase either threw themselves off it or were mashed by the oncoming mass of animated metal. There was not a shred of elegance to it, but Maker's Breath, it was effective.
The smear left behind was something even the Grey Wardens did their best not to step in.
The members of the party who weren't three meters tall arrived at the bottom floor at roughly the same time the Ogre did. The beast lumbered into the room from a large, open doorway, bellowing its challenge to the golem currently using one Hurlock to pummel another, like he was trashing wheat.
"Do we…shouldn't we be helping him?" Brelyna voiced her concern as the giants engaged one another.
"…you really want to get involved?" Talia asked, her attention instead seemingly on whatever Darkspawn of the smaller variant had survived Caridin's dramatic entrance.
Aedan shook his head, not willing to get even close to the brawling monsters. The Ogre was clad in plate, which was enough reason for him to stay away under normal circumstances, but Caridin still had the mass and his mounting experience with foes as big as himself. The Darkspawn swung and jabbed, trying to pierce dwarven steel - or whatever it actually was - with the long, metallic spikes fastened to its wrists. Another reason not to get close.
Their effectiveness was somewhat lessened by the simple fact that Caridin's armor barely even scratched from the impacts. He did however return the favour, breaking off one of the spikes before jamming it through the Ogre's skull, helmet and all.
"…if we were getting paid for this, I'd almost feel bad." Cíada said, leaning against the wall; "He's literally doing all the work for us."
The Ogre collapsed with a shuddering thud onto the tiles and the old bricks, the forward fall only driving the crude spike further through its skull until Aedan saw it breaking out the back of its helmet. Caridin paused for a moment, watching his foe as if unsure if it was dead.
"I don't think it's getting back up." Carver was the first to break the silence, relative as it was. He was himself busy putting his sword through every Darkspawn on the floor, those that had jumped from the stairs before Caridin rendered them smears. Aedan had noticed him to be a thorough sort like that; "We've cleared this part of…wherever this is."
"More than just a few ruins, I'd say." Ser Ava noted; "Chantry records on Amaranthine Arling sometimes mentioned a place called 'Drake's Fall', though I never did see it on a map."
"Never saw you spending much time in the library." The small Circle mage said.
"We knew Anders was in Amaranthine, somewhere. I was just looking up possible hideouts." The Templar muttered; "If this is Drake's Fall, it should be built over a massive chasm, deeper than even the Deep Roads."
"It is not as deep nor wide as the chasm of Bownammar." Caridin was already marching ahead, through the same doorway the Ogre had come through; "But a chasm all the same."
Aedan made a mental note to tell Fergus later, and get the name and place on the maps. If nothing else, the sheer mass of dragon bones could be used to sway the other countries not to declare war, or at least to only do so as lip service. Maybe.
Was it weird if he was still an optimist, even these days?
"There's fighting ahead." Talia said, staring at the ceiling. Aedan could hear nothing, but then, he knew her ears were keener than his. It did make him wonder though, who else was fighting down here but them?
"It is true, the Darkspawn fight amongst themselves." Caridin declared, halting his steps. When Aedan came through the doorway, nausea struck him like a hammer. A low wall, barely going above his waist, was all that separated them on both sides from plunging off the bridge, and into the blackness of the chasm below.
Maker's Breath, why did everyone insist on building across chasms? Ostagar, Bownammar and now this? At least they could make the walls a little higher, Andraste's Sake even the dwarves had walls taller than these on their bridges. I'm starting to think the Tevinter architects had a sick sense of humour…
Ahead of them, past where blobs of fleshy masses spilled over the bridge, he could see Darkspawn. True to Talia's words, they were actually fighting, though against what he couldn't quite tell. Strange creatures, like larvae with the limbs of spiders or roaches, and many even stood taller than the Hurlocks.
"What are those creatures?" Carver asked.
"Ugly." Ser Boris muttered.
"Looks like they're coming out of…cocoons?" Talia said, frowning as her green eyes seemed to take in the area for a second time; "Those tubular things there, in the…meat."
"Oh, that is nasty…" J'zargo hissed; "This one would rather we set it all aflame and let the fires do away with the Darkspawn."
"Not…a bad idea." Aedan nodded. Talia was, even with Caridin present, their resident pyromaniac. Rolling her shoulders until they cracked and popped, she drew tails of black energies through the air until they coalesced into small, spinning spheres of dark and unnatural purple. With humble pops of displaced air, the demon-like visages of the fiery atronachs appeared, spinning on their feet as if mid-dance inches above the ground.
"Now that's a sight…" Ser Ava said, her helm making it hard to tell whether her voice was one of admiration or worry. Whichever it was, her words ceased as the two atronachs moved forward, settling alight anything not made from granite and marble in their paths. The fleshy masses sizzled and boiled at their presence, and the same Darkspawn larvae came screaming out of their cocoons, writhing like maggots from open wounds until they hit the ground and crumbled there, perishing in the unquenchable flames.
"Oh yeah, those fire things…" Cíada whistled with appreciation; "Kinda forgot that's a thing you could do."
Caridin had paused in his stride as well, seemingly taking in the sight of the dancing apparitions, making their way across the bridge. The Darkspawn too, had stopped, at least the ones closest to the incoming flames. The larvae could only crawl and leap, being slower overall than the humanoid creatures they'd fought, but neither could outrun the pace of the atronachs. It was only when an emissary at the end of the bridge threw a spell of some sort, too far for Aedan to tell, that the atronachs perished, combusting with flame and enough force that it blew away the low walls on either side there. It also blew away the emissary, the creature not having expected the fiery atronachs to take their vengeance.
He didn't look forward to crossing any more now than he'd done with the bridge crawling with Darkspawn.
"Impressive feat, Warden." Caridin hummed before resuming his stride, trusting against better judgement in the ancient architecture's strength to bear him. Aedan felt like he could see dust and small rocks dropping from under the bridge. Maker, rather the worst storms of the Waking Sea, than these madmen's heights; "In my day, the armies the Thaig's would clear such spaces with firethrowers. A nostalgic sight, even if by humans."
"As long as you're taking point, you can use those runes of yours all you want." She grinned, nodding to the glowing inscriptions on the Paragon's massive hands.
It was a grin that seemed to die somewhat, as they made it across the chasm.
In the skies above the Dragonbone Waste, a shape appeared from the dark, sinister-looking clouds. At first, there was no sound but that of the rushing winds, and the crying of the owls into the night skies. Slowly, however, as the vessel approached, the sounds of creaking wood and straining fabric carried on the wind. It was one of the Imperial airships, a vessel to traverse the skies as easily as any ship would on water.
Where otherwise there would be hanging bombs, ready to be dropped upon enemy formations below, now were fastened boxy containers of metal and wood, ech large enough that an ox could ride within and have enough space for lying down or standing. Men and women of the Immunes, soldiers of the Legion tasked with roles outside of combat, hung on the railings of the airship, eyes squinting to make out the details of the ground below.
"Darkspawn in sight!" the call rang out, and the weapons were readied. Hundreds of iron spikes, nails reforged so that their mass was focused in the tips, prepared to be hurled more so than merely dropped upon the heads of their enemies. These men had already bombed the Darkspawn from the skies once before, over Denerim, and now looked forward to once more sow death and chaos amongst the foe.
"They're not moving!" another call went.
"They look dead!" another call, this one with clear disappointment; "Someone get magelights down there. Aim at the middle of the valley!"
The spells went out, and down, soaring unfeathered by gravity until they struck the dark soil of the dragon graveyard. Around the arcane lights, scattered like the toys of a petulent child, the remains of the massacred Darkspawn rested. It was more a gallery of grotesque arts than anything resembling a battlefield proper, and strings of slurs and complains soon enough filled the air, even as the captain of the vessel ordered a turn-about.
The crew of the airship, eager to test their new armaments, found to their disappointment that they apparently had been late for the fight.
At the end of the second bridge was another tower, its interior much the same as the first two. There was, however, a small change in the population of this one. Like the others, it led only further downwards, yet it was devoid of Darkspawn such as they were. Instead, at the centre of the tower's base, an arcane circle of some sort crackled with energies.
"Okay, that is not something I'm going near." Cíada frowned; "It's got trap written all over it."
As if called forth by the mage's words, a figure rose from the floor, through the floor, it had not been lying there or sitting there, but seemed to emerge straight out of the centre piece of round masonry from the arcane circle. It rose and rose, taller than even Sten and Caridin, until finally its ascension came to a halt before them. What Aedan saw, he found hard to describe.
It was like a man, if a man could grow to such heights, and yet definitely not a man at all. A Circle-like robe covered his body, while arms as grey as Brelyna's stretched for unnatural lengths, necrotic in appearance. Large, feathery pauldrons reached out as if trying to add mass to the deathly thin frame, and a face half-hidden behind a weird, gold- and red mask where a horn rose as if it had grown from the merge of flesh and not. More disturbing was how the skin of the figure's head stretched up, becoming instead hard-looking and black, as if the face had attempted to grow itself into headwear.
"What about that?" Boris was apparently the only of them capable of speaking, his voice dry and hoarse; "You going near that?"
"Hell no!"
"It is a Darkspawn." Sten noted, sword already poised to strike; "Is this the Architect?"
"That is…me, yes." Aedan froze when the creature spoke, only half its face moving as if the other had simply given up. The voice was like that of a dying man, gasping for air; "I…am the Architect, though this should not have…been the first time we meet. My plans it…seems, are not fruitful as often…as I would like…"
"It is the master of these Darkspawn." Caridin strode forward, only to freeze in place as the Architect held out a hand, a lazy gesture at best. A slow turning of his wrist lowered the massive golem to the ground, where he remained unmoving, as if in a stasis.
"I am…not the master of my brethren." He rasped; "I seek only to set them free, a venture that requires me to…use you, Grey Wardens."
"Wardens, I have fallen and I cannot rise."
"Explain." Aedan's voice was fiercer than he felt, in the face of this creature. To simply wave a hand and knock down the Paragon, the Architect possessed might greater than he immediately wanted to tangle with.
"When you become Grey Wardens, you take the blood of my kind into you, to become what you are." There was a small voice at the back of his mind, shouting of the broken secrets of the Order. Not that they'd ever done much to keep them, as Alistair had often complained; "I wish… only to set my brethren free. To do that…I need Grey Warden Blood."
"Okay…can we kill him now?" Cíada shifted on her feet, eying the downed golem; "No, seriously, can we even kill him? He just…did that thing, to Caridin."
"You killed the Withered, as I… sent him to request and offer cooperation, yet there is no need for… violence between us."
"Why do you need our blood?" Talia pressed.
"To become what you are, you take our blood. What… I would take, is your resistance." The Architect explained, his rasping and monotonous voice an irritant on Aedan's very soul. It was as if it stole his own breath away with each uttered word; "Sadly, I have…only managed to acquire one of your Order, so far…"
Those words, spoken as mild complain, set a cold fire in his veins. One of them? He'd already taken Grey Wardens? But, who? And when? Every Grey Warden in Ferelden was accounted for, far as he knew, and either right here or in Vigil's Keep.
"Who did you take, creature?" Ser Ava growled.
"A Warden at the end of his time, close enough to his Calling that he would not have lasted much longer." The towering Darkspawn paused, as if weighing its words; "It would have been a waste, to let him wander into the Deep Roads, when his blood could…be of some use."
Aedan forced the anger down, knowing there was little they could do without a plan. The Architect was superior to them, his handling of Caridin betrayed as much. At least, until he came up with something other than a mindless charge.
"Yeah, but why." It was Cíada who pressed now, keeping the Templars between herself and the monstrous creature.
"…each time there is a Blight, it spells the death of hundreds of thousands of my kin, and… destruction of your surface lands." Aedan's eyes went about the room as discretely as he could go about it, deathly afraid of what would happen if the behemoth before them sensed his intent; "I would free the Darkspawn from their compulsion, to seek out the Old Gods. The resistance of Warden blood sets them free of that…in my folly, I first thought to prevent the Blight in its entirety."
"…that's…that doesn't sound like folly." Brelyna piped up, shrinking visibly as the Architect turned its masked gaze upon her; "…I think?"
"Evidently it failed." Aedan forced his voice not to stammer or stutter, adrenaline rushing through every vein in his body.
"Yes…" the creature admitted; "I had thought to find and kill the Old God, Urthemiel, before the Darkspawn reached her."
"You're Darkspawn." Carver argued, and it was a point that made Aedan's mind freeze in its planning. The realization struck him like a hammerblow, as did both the fury and the dread that came with it.
Talia, he saw, was rubbing at her scalp like she'd gone mad, faster and faster. He moved to her, even as she started shaking, trembling in his grip. It was getting worse and worse, to the point that he could barely hold her in one place. Carver, even as he spoke, seemed to realize the same things as he had. The boy's face twisted into an expression Aedan did not know was possible, grief and hatred mixed in one; "You…"
"My presence, even as I sought to kill the sleeping beast…" the Architect muttered, though less and less now Aedan could keep his eyes on the Darkspawn, his wife now instead trembling in his arms, as if she was about to collapse as she had in Highever; "…corrupted her very being."
"Fuck me…" Cíada whispered, eyes wide with horror; "You started the Blight!"
Ah, the Architect, what a sad figure, really.
In his attempts to prevent a Blight, he kicked it off instead. This was one of the harder choices I had in my experiences with Dragon Age, I'll admit to that much, without saying what I ended up choosing to do. We're nearly at the end of Awakening - we're pretty much at the end, actually - which is a point I'd not thought I'd actually reach.
This book, of course, doesn't end here, by a half.
