"Time was once a blessing
but long journeys are made longer
when alone within.
Take spirit from the long ago
but do not dwell in lands no longer yours."
—Suledin (Endure), a Dalish song
Chapter 52
Líadan
"You need to stop and see Wade and Herren before you join the others at the Deep Roads entrance, right?" Riordan asked her. "I need to see them as well. Walk with me, please?"
Líadan eyed him curiously for a moment before nodding her agreement. They strode together to the armory without exchanging any other words. The two of them had reached a silent accord since the night before when she returned without argument from her shortened attempt at leaving for Highever. He didn't prod her any further about duty, while she didn't lodge any further protests about having to go to Kal'Hirol. Mostly it meant that they barely said a word to each other, neither of them entirely willing to let a try at conversation ignite into a full-blown argument. Sometimes, though, curiosity overwhelmed reason. "So why are you really staying topside?" she asked as they descended the steps into the Vigil's yard. "Tiernan and Otho are staying up here as well. They could've taken care of any correspondence." She didn't mention Malcolm or what would happen if he was found.
He didn't answer for a moment, and the ringing of hammers from repairmen filled the air of the yard. "Fiona reminded me that due to the extent of my taint, our party would be swarmed by the darkspawn within hours of travel into the Deep Roads. It would make the mission far longer and far harder than it needed to be, were I to go. It's the same reason why we try to send the most junior of the Wardens with the recruits to retrieve the darkspawn blood. After all, we don't want the recruits to be overwhelmed before they even have the opportunity to take the Joining."
"I had wondered why the junior Wardens led the recruits. I'd figured we would've sent them with more experienced Wardens, people better able to watch over a group and keep them from getting into too much trouble."
"Not so within our Order, I'm afraid."
"But... hasn't Fiona been a Warden longer than you have? Wouldn't her taint—oh, right. I remember now. She isn't tainted any longer. Not exactly, anyway, even though she can still sense darkspawn." Líadan frowned. "Doesn't that make this trip dangerous for her? Running the risk of contracting the taint again?"
"Her knowledge and leadership is indispensable for this mission and it makes no sense to limit her as a Warden just because she no longer bears the taint, as she can still sense darkspawn."
Líadan smirked. "That's what she told you when you asked her the same, is it?"
"Along with some rather creative Orlesian and Anders swearing when I suggested she let one of the other Wardens lead this trip, yes." Riordan sighed. "She's right, of course. Even if Malcolm wasn't missing, I would have had her go. The fact that she doesn't have the progressed taint of a Warden with her number of years of service makes her a very valuable asset on a Deep Roads assignment like this."
At the mention of Malcolm, she looked away from Riordan and towards the forge they were closing on in front of them. Fiona had been right. The pervading worry had only gotten worse, even as she did her best to concentrate on the tasks before them with the Mother.
A reassuring hand briefly touched her upper arm. "I promise that when you get back, you will have leave to help the search parties," Riordan said quietly.
She nodded, but didn't look at him, instead choosing to walk over to where Wade and Herren sat and chatted over an early lunch. They both noticed her approach and smiled brightly at her. "Ah, there you are!" said one of them as they each rose to their feet. Creators, she still couldn't remember who was who.
"You have it ready?" Riordan asked from behind her.
The balding man with the dark, thick mustache clapped his hands together. "Yes! I've been wondering what you would think. Let me fetch it! I will be right back."
"I hope you don't have any more urgent custom projects for Wade, Commander?" the other man asked. Líadan almost grinned at finally figuring out who was who without having to ask. Wade was the smith, not Herren. And it was Herren who was the one now frowning at Riordan.
"No, nothing off the top of my head. This one was a special case," Riordan said, his voice barely hiding the chuckle behind it.
Before Herren could reply, Wade practically burst out of the storage room carrying a mage's staff in his hands. It looked much the same as the one Líadan had lost in the Deep Roads—the one that had almost killed her, in fact. A third of its length was a finely-honed blade made of silverite, the rest of it smoothly-hewn oak inlaid with runes worked with lyrium. "This one is much better than my first attempt," said Wade. "That one was so terribly crude I couldn't believe that it worked."
Líadan glanced over at Riordan, who now stood beside her. "Since when do you use a staff? Are you another secret mage?"
The Warden Commander grinned. "I don't, and I am not. When I heard what had happened in the Deep Roads, I sent a messenger here to Herren and Wade to have them make a new one for you for when you got back. You were rather partial to that staff."
Before it tried to kill me, she thought.
Wade extended the staff resting on the palms of his outstretched hands to Líadan. "And what happened to the other one, might I ask?"
As she accepted the stave from the blacksmith, Líadan recognized Riordan's peace offering. She smiled a little, first at Riordan, and then at Wade. "I lost it."
"Did you misplace it?" asked Herren. "How does one misplace a staff of that size?"
One of the surface dwarves working on a wall nearby snorted, while the other two openly chuckled.
"We were in the Deep Roads. And..." she trailed off, not wanting to say how she'd essentially ended up trapping herself due to her own spellcasting. "Well, would you believe a dragon was involved?"
"A dragon?" Wade's eyes brightened with eagerness. "Did you kill it? I hope you didn't do anything so rash as to burn its carcass. Imagine the dragonbone! The magnificent scales! I could make such wonderful things from exotic materials such as those."
"We didn't kill it. From what I was told, when they cut the dragon's tail in two, the dragon flew away and didn't return," Líadan said. "I suppose half of the tail might still be up in that clearing in Drake's Fall."
The smith scowled. "Wouldn't do any good now. It will surely be snowed in by the time anyone got back up there. What a waste. No one has any appreciation for fine materials anymore."
Líadan hefted the staff Wade had given her, stepped back to give herself space, and ran through a couple forms. Wade was right, this one was even better than the last, with a much finer balance and sturdier workmanship. The magic practically hummed in her hands, and happily at that. It almost let her believe that she was better than just a mediocre mage. She flashed a grin at the smith and at the Warden Commander. "It's fantastic. What do I owe you?"
Riordan rolled his eyes. "It's a gift and you know it. You should head to the Deep Roads entrance, though. I believe the others are waiting for you." He paused, and then said, "May Mythal protect you on your journey."
She smiled at him again, impressed that he didn't lump her in with the Andrastians. "And may your Maker watch over you in our absence." A nod of her head, and then she headed for the basement, idly twirling her new staff in her hands. Two days to Kal'Hirol. If they could make their dealings with the Mother fast—kill her without too many questions and be done with it—they could be back within five days. Less if they didn't meet with much darkspawn opposition on their way there or on the return. Part of her wanted darkspawn, though, as killing them would keep her mind far more occupied than simple travel through the ancient dwarven byways.
When she got to the Deep Roads entrance, the other experienced Wardens—Fiona, Sigrun, Oghren, Anders, Nathaniel, and a fully-healed Mhairi—were waiting for her as Riordan had said. Anders smirked when he saw her staff. "Got a new toy, I take it? Is this one going to try to kill you, too?" Then he held out a hand, asking to test it out himself.
Líadan handed the other mage her stave. "Wade doesn't seem to think so. He was actually pleased with how this one turned out."
Anders spun the staff cautiously, leery of the wickedly sharpened blade that formed one end. Then he shot a lightning bolt into the stone wall across from them and whistled at the resulting burn mark. "Oh, I like it. I might need to get one of these."
"Do you even know how to handle a blade, mage?" Nathaniel asked.
"I don't know if you've noticed, but I do tend to cut up my food before I put it in my mouth." Anders handed the staff back to Líadan and told her thank you.
Nathaniel scoffed. "Your eating knife doesn't exactly count as a blade."
"Hey, when it cuts you all the same, it counts as a blade."
"Also," said Líadan, "Wade is upset that we didn't get any dragonbone or dragon scales from the half a tail that we left up in Drake's Fall."
Anders rubbed at the perpetual stubble on his cheek. "You know, it's kind of strange to think there's a high dragon now flying around up there with a stumpy half-tail."
"It's kind of strange to think there's a high dragon around there at all," said Nathaniel.
"I can't believe you guys fought a high dragon without me!" said Sigrun. "Did it swoop? I heard that dragons swoop. Do they? And breathe fire? I heard that, too."
"Yes, there was swooping," said Anders. "No one plucked off the ground and into the sky though, lucky us. And yes, the dragon breathed fire. A lot of it. It was a very angry dragon."
Nathaniel pulled his bowstring from a pouch on his belt and wrapped it around his fingers to check its strength. "I can't imagine why. It isn't like we were shooting arrows and magic at it at the time." He looked over at Oghren. "Or shouting insults at it."
"Hey, the pike-twirler and the elf's boyfriend started it," said Oghren. "I only joined in. Peer pressure and all."
Líadan leveled a glare at her dwarven friend, even as she fought a slight tickle of amusement. She knew that once, long ago, she never would've considered this man an acquaintance, much less a friend, but things had very much changed since then. She and the dwarf had fought in many battles together. He'd helped save her from the cave-in. He had also been the first one to sit with her while they waited for Malcolm to finish his Harrowing. Oghren hadn't really said much as they waited, just a few occasional grunts accompanied by sharing his flask of ale. But she understood that he understood and sat with her in their shared understanding. As crass and loud as Oghren could be, there was a dwarf with a pretty good heart hidden under all of that. Not that he wouldn't deny it vehemently were she or anyone else to bring it up, but it was there all the same. And Creators take him, he really could be funny sometimes. Now wasn't particularly one of those times since she was his target, but still. There were times. And she trusted him with her life. She sighed. "He's not—"
"Oh, please," said Anders. "Spare us the entirely unconvincing denial. We all know what's going on. In fact, we've known longer than the two of you have about how you feel. And you know what? I bet you even tried to sneak away from camp last night to get back to Highever and look for him."
She folded her arms over her cuirass and looked in the direction of the opened Deep Roads sealing doors. "I don't have to answer that."
"More like you don't need to," said Nathaniel.
Sigrun clapped her gloved hands together and slid over to Líadan's side. "So you both finally came to your senses, did you? Tell me everything."
Líadan held in a sigh. "There's nothing to tell. Besides, we're supposed to be going into the Deep Roads." She waved at the open doors. "See? All set for us to go in. And we shouldn't leave those doors open any longer than absolutely necessary."
"Yes. We should attend to our duty." Mhairi gave a resolute nod and strode through the opening and into the Deep Roads.
"I'm not the only one who has to stop from giggling every time I hear the word 'duty,' am I?" asked Anders, who then followed the other Wardens as they walked by ones and twos into the Deep Roads.
"Nope!" Oghren grinned. "Sure sounds a lot like another word I use for stuff that—"
"You two would think of that, wouldn't you?" Nathaniel tucked his bowstring back into its pouch as his scowl grew deeper in exasperation.
Part of Líadan agreed with what Oghren was intimating, though. Sometimes, duty was a dirty word. The light from the torches in the Vigil's basement faded as they traveled deeper underground. The three mages lit the ends of their staffs, an easy spell to maintain even for those of lesser magical abilities. Sigrun sidled up to her and pummeled her with questions as they walked. Líadan did her best to avoid giving straight answers, which only served to make the dwarf more determined. The incessant chatter reminded the elf of traveling with Wardens she'd known longer, like Alistair and Malcolm, and the familiarity brought a warmth into her chest that the Deep Roads always leeched out. The tightness had yet to go away, but at least the pervading emptiness of the Deep Roads had yet to set in. Because Sigrun was leading them to Kal'Hirol, it meant that she and Líadan walked at the front of the line with a very quiet Fiona close by. At the first intersection they came across, Sigrun directed them to go left.
"I'm not sure," Anders piped up from the rear of the group. "You know what happened the last time we went left at an intersection in the Deep Roads."
"Well, when we went right, we found sodding baby dragons," Oghren said.
Sigrun frowned. "No, I really don't know what happened, not really. What happened up there? We were told that Velanna died, but the messenger didn't know how. Did she die in the cave-in that trapped you? Was it the Architect?"
"Turns out that Drake's Fall was the least of our dangers," Líadan replied, "and that includes the high dragon, too." Then she relayed to Sigrun everything that had happened in the past weeks, from the Architect possibly performing experiments on them in the strange ruins in the Deep Roads, to Velanna dying when she helped with the barbaric shemlen Harrowing. She avoided the subject of Malcolm's disappearance, as she didn't want to discuss it further, and Riordan had already done a decent job of explaining what they knew about it—which was pretty much nothing.
"He wants to free them? The other darkspawn?" Sigrun asked.
"That's what he said. He told Malcolm he was doing some sort of Joining using Grey Warden blood."
The dwarf wrinkled her nose. "Ew."
"That's quite different from his original plan was when the Wardens first came across him," said Fiona. "Before, he wanted to kill the Old Gods and make everyone in all of Thedas take the Joining and essentially become darkspawn."
"That sounds like a horrible plan. Some Wardens truly believed it could work?" asked Nathaniel.
"Some. What's interesting is that it was only Wardens who were well into their Calling who believed it, for the most part. Bregan, and then Genevieve and Utha. And for the rest of us, he had to artificially accelerate the rate of the taint's progression to bring us to an early-onset Calling. Only after all of us—except for Duncan, who remained untainted because of the dagger he stole, and King Maric, who wasn't a Warden—were hearing the Call did he approach us with his ideas."
"So, basically, in order to fall for it, they already pretty much had to be darkspawn. Otherwise, a Warden would see right through the complete stupidity of that plan," said Anders.
"I thought the darkspawn didn't have souls?" asked Sigrun. "Isn't that why it takes a Grey Warden to kill an archdemon?"
Líadan nodded. "Yes. The Old God's tainted soul will follow the taint into the closest tainted creature near it. Normally, it's a darkspawn. Without a soul, the darkspawn is merely a vessel and the archdemon and the Blight continue in a new body. But when a Warden delivers the final blow, they become the closest tainted creature. Since two souls can't occupy the same body, they annihilate each other and both die. It ends the archdemon, the Grey Warden, and the Blight. Well, unless there happens to be a traitorous wi—"
Anders interrupted her and said, "We really know that part well enough as it is. And, um, you might want to unclench your fists. Especially the one holding your staff. Wouldn't want you to get splinters. Since you can't, you know, heal them like a normal mage."
"I hate you. You're a horrible little man." She relaxed her hands anyway, even as she felt the pressure of worry returning to her chest. Anders' teasing had reminded her of Malcolm and how he'd teased her so often at Weisshaupt when Fiona had done her best to teach Líadan how to heal properly.
"Hey! Watch who you're calling little!"
Sigrun rolled her eyes as Oghren burst into laughter. Then she asked, "How can the Architect free them if they have no souls?"
"It apparently silences their song, which is the only thing that gives them direction." Líadan frowned into the darkness of the paved dwarven road ahead of them. "It makes no sense because then they'll just run wild all over Thedas and we won't be able to predict anything about them other than they'll kill and taint whatever they come across. It can't really be a surprise that most of the freed darkspawn aren't doing so hot in their newly Old God free existence."
"What I can't figure out," said Nathaniel, "is how this Architect can even exist. Darkspawn, by their very nature, don't have souls. The only reason the archdemon is able to lead the darkspawn is because it has the soul of a tainted Old God. For the Architect to do what he's been doing, he has to have a soul."
Fiona sighed. "The closest we could figure in all the research we did at Weisshaupt is that the Architect must have been a Grey Warden at some time. He waited too long to take his Calling, and he ended up in the form he has now instead of dying. No one is sure how old he really is or how he's stayed alive all this time. But that's our best guess about the Architect's origins after," she said, and then paused as she did calculations in her head. "More than twenty years of research."
"I wonder where the darkspawn really come from," said Líadan.
"The Chantry already gave us that answer," Mhairi replied. "It was the Tevinter—"
Líadan turned and glared at the human warrior. "Not everyone believes in your Chantry. City elves and your fellow humans might, but Dalish elves do not." She motioned at Sigrun and Oghren. "Or dwarves, as far as I know."
"Dwarves don't know the real sodding reason behind the darkspawn either," Oghren said. "The Memories recorded by the Shaperate are full of questions and lacking on a whole lot of answers. First there were rumors in the Deep Roads, warriors and merchants disappearing. Then it was a sodding Blight and the darkspawn were everywhere, and still are." He shrugged, the battleaxe resting on his shoulder bobbing up and down. "Doesn't much matter, though. They're here now and have to be killed, the whole bloody lot of them."
Mhairi peered curiosity at Líadan. "And the Dalish? Where do your people think the darkspawn came from?"
"Same as the dwarves. We don't know and we haven't really hazarded any guesses. Creators, I didn't even know until..." she trailed off as she remembered her first encounters with the taint and the darkspawn, and what the taint could do to people. Turning people into darkspawn or outright killing them, or if you happened to survive by becoming a Grey Warden, condemned to die in the Deep Roads in thirty years because of the taint anyway. "Let's just say that I wasn't aware of them until the Blight."
"Is that why you became a Grey Warden?"
Líadan fought down the irritation. "In a manner of speaking."
"That's a bit vague."
She spun and faced the other woman. "I was already tainted and was conscripted into the Wardens so that the Joining could possibly save my life. There. Now you know." Then Líadan stalked forward, the light from her staff bouncing along the wall as her steps had become jerky because of her anger.
"So you didn't want to become a Warden?" Mhairi called after her.
"No."
"I just find it hard to imagine that people wouldn't want to join the Grey Wardens. I mean, after I heard that it was few Wardens who quelled the Blight almost single-handedly, I vowed to serve the Order if I could. I volunteered at the first chance I got."
"Good for you."
"I can see why, after the Joining, how being a Warden wouldn't be for everyone, but I knew nothing of that before. And the Joining saved your life, did it not?"
Líadan rounded on Mhairi again. "By the Creators, if you don't let this go—"
The warrior smiled. "You cannot hit with me with magic, you know. Remember? The king taught me some templar abilities when he first arrived at the Vigil."
She let out a cry of frustration and turned her back on Mhairi. "That's it, when I see Alistair again, I'm killing him." Then she proceeded to ignore Mhairi's other questions and soon enough, the warrior started asking the other Wardens why and how they'd become Wardens. Normally, someone would've mentioned that the Order tended to have an unspoken rule about not asking. However, being in the Deep Roads required almost constant conversation to keep from getting mired in its sad, desperate atmosphere, so the conversation kept going. They ended up traveling well into the night, not stopping until their steps started to falter and Sigrun reminded them that topside, it was long after sundown. Sleep was more difficult than Líadan ever remembered in the Deep Roads, even on that first trip after visiting Orzammar. Oghren kicking her awake for her watch was a blessing, and not even one in disguise when the dwarf told her she'd been screaming.
Of course, she ended up assigned to a watch with Mhairi, because it turned out that Fiona had the same sneaky sense of humor as Riordan. But Mhairi had apparently been warned by someone and left the previous subject well enough alone. Then again, when left to silent thoughts in the quiet Deep Roads while staring out at nothing but darkness, she didn't feel much more comfortable. Sigrun's stone sense woke her up at the proper time, and she informed the two Wardens on watch and they awakened the others. Being back on the main road and trudging towards Kal'Hirol made her feel somewhat better, because at least there was a point to it rather than sitting and staring and ruminating.
"I think I found a shortcut," Sigrun announced.
Oghren walked over to where she stood next to an intersection that had a paved side road heading Creators knew where. Though it seemed to Líadan that Sigrun thought she knew where it would go.
"You think it'll be shorter? Shortcuts aren't always short, at least in my experience," said Oghren.
Sigrun bent and pressed her ear against the dusty stones again. "Yes. We'll get there half a day sooner if we go this way. I wish I'd noticed it before, when I was trying to get away from those darkspawn. But, hey, I was in a hurry." She motioned for the rest of the Wardens to follow. "This way!'
They had only traveled for a little longer when they came across the skeletal remains of a dwarf clutching a nearly-rotted leather pouch. Sigrun bent and pried open the pouch with her dagger. Messages slid out, some of them still readable, others crumbing into nothing. Sigrun frowned, and then handed the one remaining note with legible ink to Oghren. "Not sure if I read that one right. You'll see why if you read the same thing I did."
Oghren's bushy eyebrows crowded together as he read. "Huh. Shave my back and call me an elf, but this mentions elves. Something about carvings that have elves forming an alliance with the dwarves from Cad'halash thaig after the destruction of Arla... lafa—"
"Arlathan?" Líadan asked.
"That, yes. Must be one of those strange elf things."
She sighed and wished for greater patience. "Oghren. Arlathan was the elvhen city that the Tevinters buried whole when they destroyed the civilization of my ancestors. Like your lost thaigs, I guess."
"Yeah, only filled with you swishy elves instead of sturdy dwarves." He glanced at the message again. "Anyway, this says that what they saw was proof that you nancy elves hid from that Imperium with the dwarves of Cad'halash. Bet you never saw that coming, did you?" The dwarf tugged at his beard as his eyes lit up with a sudden thought. "Hey, wasn't Shale once from a thaig that sounded like that? Cadash or something or other that we found out after the Blight when Shale and Wynne went looking to see where she was from?"
"Oh! A golem!" Sigrun said. "You really traveled with a golem?"
"Aye. Thing hated birds. Also, turned out that she was a sodding girl dwarf before she became a golem."
"And she happened to be the most sarcastic golem you will ever meet," said Líadan. "You have liked her, Nathaniel."
"I have no idea what you're insinuating," he replied.
"Anyway, something you might want to look into at the Shaperate if you ever get a chance, elf," Oghren said, and then handed her the message. "Maybe you could end up recovering a lost elven thaig. Not sure what that blighter there was doing near Kal'Hirol, though. Cadash thaig is closer to Orzammar."
"There might have been scholars at Kal'Hirol going over whatever they'd recovered from the carvings," said Sigrun.
"True."
Líadan shrugged. "Maybe we'll come across something about it at Kal'Hirol. Or, you know, just run into a giant, nasty broodmother."
"I wasn't aware there were any other kinds of broodmothers," said Anders.
Sigrun started forward again. "There aren't."
"The darkspawn are getting closer," said Fiona. "Either that or we're getting closer to them. We need to be on our guard from now on." Her fingers grasped the staff in her hand more tightly, and her jaw flexed as it set in determination.
As they neared the abandoned dwarven fortress, they stepped from the side road and into a large clearing. It looked almost like it had once been a courtyard outside the entrance of Kal'Hirol. Scattered on the blackened paving stones riddled with the dark taint were several darkspawn bodies, an even mix of genlocks and hurlocks. Oghren kicked at the nearest one. "Looks someone came along and did our job for us."
"These weren't here before," said Sigrun. "And the feel of the darkspawn is—"
"Almost overwhelming," Líadan and Nathaniel finished for her.
"Something feels very not right," said Anders.
Líadan heard scraping and skittering noises from the walls around the clearing even as the taint pressed in closer. She shouted a warning to the other Wardens, but the yell was covered by the squelching sound of creatures bursting out of the fleshy sacs that lined the floor and walls. One of the twisted creatures—more twisted than any darkspawn Líadan had ever seen—leapt onto Fiona as the elf had bent to read one of the dwarven runic inscriptions. The impact sent both Fiona and the new darkspawn to the ground as the creature tore at Fiona's upper body with a mouth filled with ghastly, razor-sharp teeth. Anders shouted in alarm and sent a bolt of lightning that knocked the creature into the wall. Sigrun rolled over and sliced open the creature before it could recover. Then Anders was at Fiona's side, his hands already glowing with healing energy.
After a questioning look at Anders, Sigrun stepped back into the edges of the fight with the massed crowd of darkspawn abominations. Líadan noticed that they were clumped together and advanced on the Wardens as one writhing mass. Mhairi and Oghren stood at the front of the line, his axe and her sword and shield cutting off various pieces of the creatures that got too close. But if the darkspawn managed to swarm at the same time, Líadan knew they would easily be overwhelmed. While she didn't have any group spells, she knew that Anders and Fiona did, and she looked over to where Anders was helping Fiona to her feet. The elven woman waved the other mage away, though she leaned heavily on her staff for support. Anders gave her one last dubious look, and then trotted forward to where the two warriors were standing their ground. Nathaniel exchanged glances with Líadan then he dropped back to stay near Fiona, all without breaking his steady stream of arrows.
"Everyone back unless you want a new hairstyle by fire," Anders said. Once the others fell back, he cast a fireball spell into the middle of the surging crowd of darkspawn. He went to cast another spell and when nothing happened, he turned to Líadan. "Lyrium?"
Líadan grabbed one out of a pouch and tossed it toward Anders. One of the darkspawn jumped onto her right as she released it. The lyrium potion got knocked sideways and flew into the fireball instead of at Anders. As Líadan crossed her gauntleted hands and arms over her face and wrestled with the creature to keep its gnashing teeth at bay, she heard a sizzle and then a small explosion followed by a surge of heat. Then the screams hit—guttural screams that struck her ears like hot pokers—along with the stench of burning corrupted flesh.
A battleaxe swooped downward and sliced into the creature on top of Líadan. The momentum sent the creature flying in a slowly tumbling bloody arc. It squealed once when it landed on the hard ground, and then went still. Líadan slowly sat up, surveying the damage from whatever explosion had occurred. Explosion? She rubbed at her eyes, barely noticing the scratches and gouges on her armor that'd saved her from injury. The strange darkspawn mass burned brightly in front of the Wardens, the twisted flesh popping and crackling as it curled inward and blackened to match the stone underneath.
Anders gaped at the scene. "Uh, did anyone know that lyrium could do that?"
"No. No, I did not," said Fiona.
He swiped at the soot on his face as he glanced back at the other mage. "You'd think they would've warned us. 'Oh, by the way, those potions of lyrium you carry around on your person? They could totally explode and kill you. Might want to be careful with them.'That would've come in handy to know."
"If they don't tell you, it's another way to cull Thedas of overly adventurous mages," said Líadan, and then she looked at Fiona. The woman's chainmail had been shredded by the strange darkspawn, and she could see where Anders had healed long gashes in the other elf's torso. Her eyes widened as she noticed the telltale dark tendrils of a spreading taint infection. While Líadan had seen many ghouls in her time as a Warden, and many men and women who became tainted through combat with darkspawn, only once had she seen it this early in someone she considered a friend. She looked up from the damage to meet Fiona's eyes, knowing that her own eyes were filled with trepidation.
"Yes, I know, it's the taint. But it's spreading very slowly," said Fiona. "Even if I did nothing, it would be weeks before it became an issue. It must be remnants of my immunity from before my Calling keeping it at bay." She gave Líadan a reassuring smile. "We'll just do a Joining when we get back and extend it to another thirty years or so. I talked to Georg about this happening before we left Weisshaupt. Since I was return to the life of an active Warden, we figured it would happen sooner or later."
Líadan frowned. "Why is it that my friends who are tainted are always reassuring everyone else that they're fine?"
"My hauberk has seen better days," Fiona said as she pulled at the edges of the gaps left by the creature. "That isn't reassuring." Her gazed shifted to the burning pile of darkspawn. "Nor are those things, whatever they are. But the taint? Not overly worrisome. I've already gone through one Joining, so a second shouldn't be too hard to tolerate."
"Well, you'll have to forgive me for not being so blasé about a Joining no matter how many times a person has gone through it," said Anders. "Must be the Weisshaupt in you or something." He frowned for a moment as he studied Fiona, and then cast a rejuvenation spell on her.
Fiona shrugged, even as she was able to stand normally due to the effects of Anders' spell. "When you've been surrounded by the taint as long as I have, I guess you grow a little used to it. Or, at least, not so shocked by it." She looked over at Sigrun. "Can you bring us from here to where you last saw the Legion?"
After Sigrun gave the burning darkspawn a wary glance, she nodded and waved the other Wardens forward. The group cautiously picked their way through the fortress, changing their course several times to engage with small pockets of darkspawn over large groups. They came across one small party of darkspawn hacking apart one of the newer types of darkspawn, viciously stomping it into an unidentifiable mess. One darkspawn, whom Líadan assumed to be the leader, gave the battered corpse a nasty kick and said something like 'these children be abominations.' Líadan didn't disagree, and actually felt somewhat bad when they went ahead and killed the helpful darkspawn afterward. Couldn't be helped, though. Darkspawn were darkspawn and had to die. She felt even more badly about killing the guy when they stumbled across another party of darkspawn fighting off the strange 'children' as the children tried to eat them. The elf paid extra attention to total destruction when she set fire to fleshy, corrupted filth and sacs on the walls and floor that seemed to hatch the children.
"You know, I never thought I'd end up cheering for the darkspawn at all," said Anders, "but, I think I'm picking the side where they don't agree with making those things."
"I'm with you on that, Sparklefingers," said Oghren.
Fiona came to an abrupt halt and held out her hand. "Broodmothers," she said. "There's more than one. Not just the Mother."
"We need to kill them," said Nathaniel.
"Yes." Fiona looked at Sigrun. "I can take the lead from here, I think, unless there's a passage blocked off. But I can pinpoint where they are. There's three of them in a clump, and then another off further away. I bet that one is the Mother." She frowned. "Though with three broodmothers, I'm not sure how only seven of us can take them out if the other darkspawn swarm."
"They might not be too inclined to help defend the broodmothers if they're the things producing the children," said Anders, nearly spitting out the word 'children.'
Fiona started down one of the passages. "I certainly hope that's the case."
Tentacles bursting out of the ground told them when they were close, because even though the tug of the taint was burning within them, they couldn't seem to find the broodmothers. "Oh, they would be underneath us," said Mhairi. "Of all the luck."
In thought, Sigrun tapped at her chin. "If I correctly remember the plans that my commanding officer had us memorize, there's a place where Kal'Hirol used to dump lava. So, there should be an opening where we can see below if we can find that place."
"Not sure what good that'll do us," said Oghren.
"Hey, it's something."
Oghren grunted.
Sigrun took the lead and brought them to another large chamber, but not so large as the one outside the massive gates of the fortress. In the middle stood the hole Sigrun had talked about, with an old, metal contraption of some kind chained above it. "I guess we won't be channeling any lava," she said as she glared up at the ruins. "I think the broodmothers are down there, though. But I'm... I'm afraid to look too closely. What if one of those creatures is someone I once knew?" Then stone-like determination appeared in her light eyes. "I owe it to them if it is one of them." She knelt and peeked through a hole in the floor as wide as a human man was tall. Her heavily tattooed face paled. "I know them all," she whispered.
Líadan started forward so she could reach Sigrun, but halfway there another tentacle shot up and sent her sprawling. She growled as she jumped to her feet, lashing out with the bladed end of her staff and cutting the top off the retreating tentacle. "That's for being a pain in the arse," she told the offending appendage, and then finished her walk to her fellow Warden.
"We have to figure out a way to kill them," Sigrun said when Líadan stood next to her. "We have to end it for them. They can't be allowed to live like this."
She placed a reassuring hand on the dwarf's shoulder. "I know."
"Hmm." Anders peeked through the hole in the stones, shuddered, and then looked away. "I think I have an idea. How much lyrium do we have left?" Without waiting for an answer, he shucked off his pack and started digging out the potions he carried.
The others followed suit, as even the non-mages carried lyrium potions to help spread the load evenly between the group. Soon enough, they had a sizable pile stacked next to the hole. "I hope you're going somewhere with this," said Nathaniel.
"Do you not remember what happened earlier?" Anders asked. "You know, that whole part where one lyrium potion exploded and killed all those children-things? Just think of how a whole pile of lyrium will react!"
"Seems quite a risk, using a volatile material like that."
"Well, unless you've got a better idea, this is all we have. It isn't like we have a choice about just leaving them, because we aren't."
Nathaniel sighed and added the lyrium from his pack to the pile. "I suppose this will have to do, then. What is your exact plan? We'll need to act fast before more tentacles come flying up and obliterate the entire floor."
"Um, the most in-depth planning I got to was to toss all our lyrium down there, and then cast a really big fireball spell right onto it. Big explosion followed by a ton of burning fire. Should do the trick." Anders frowned. "I think."
A tentacle burst upward and knocked Mhairi over again, supporting Nathaniel's advice to hurry. "Do it," said Fiona. "We still need to take care of the Mother, so move quickly."
The Wardens surrounded the opening after gathering lyrium potions into their arms, and when Anders told them to, they dropped the potions into the hole. Then they stepped aside while Anders and Fiona both cast fireballs downward. Nothing happened for a few seconds, and then the ground rattled and shook. Cracks started forming and the Wardens hastily retrieved their packs and ran, Sigrun leading the way to solid ground. A few minutes later, there was a roar as the stones tumbled downward and landed on the burning carcasses of the broodmothers. Líadan felt the slight lessening of the taint's pressure as each broodmother died, and she sighed in relief. Then she remembered that there was still one left—the Mother. And now they were completely out of lyrium potions. She cursed rapidly in Elvish, bringing a curious look from Fiona. "We still have the Mother to deal with and we're out of lyrium," Líadan explained.
"Both of us can fight without magic," Fiona said. "You're much better than I am, by far, but it's something. Though I suppose Anders will just have to stand around and cheer us on."
Sigrun snorted, some of the color having returned to her face after the destruction of the broodmothers that had once been her fellow Legionnaires.
"I could also stand around and look pretty," said Anders. Then he idly brushed at his grime-covered robes. "Admittedly, not as prettily as usual. The Deep Roads do that to you."
"You're preening in the Deep Roads. I hadn't even realized that was possible," said Nathaniel. "Have you no sense of decorum?"
"Nope. None at all. Wait! Yes, some. More than Oghren."
Oghren let out a loud burp. "That isn't saying much. Come on, let's go see about that Mother so we can get out of this sodding graveyard."
Between Sigrun and Fiona, they managed to find their way to the chamber the Mother had hidden herself in. The room was nearly again as large as the one where they'd just collapsed the floor, but this room had walls smoothly lined with stone that glowed with lyrium veins. Líadan felt the magic rolling off the broodmother before they had even passed into the room itself. When they caught sight of the Mother, Mhairi gasped. "Andraste save us."
"I doubt your Andraste would've been a fan of this kind of creature," said Oghren. "I sure as Stone don't like it. And that's even with all those breasts. I mean, sure, I'm more of a rump-man myself, but—"
"Shut it, dwarf," said Líadan as she stared at the broodmother even though she didn't want to. This one had once been human. Every other broodmother they'd come across before had been dwarven.
"No, you don't understand," said Mhairi. "When the king taught me templar skills, other abilities came with them, such as being able to sense abominations and demons." She gestured toward the undulating broodmother. "That thing is an actual abomination. There's a demon in it. Her. It. Whatever."
"With that many breasts, it's a her," said Oghren.
Líadan ignored Oghren's comment. "So there's a... that's a darkspawn and a demon?"
"Twice cursed by the Maker. No wonder she's got such anger issues," said Anders.
Nathaniel nocked an arrow. "I wonder what kind of demon. Can you tell, Mhairi?"
"No. I guess different demons have different abilities, though. Rage demons have fire, sloth demons put you to sleep, things like that."
The Mother snapped her teeth at them, and then cackled, her flesh jiggling with the vibrations. "Now the pieces fall into place!" she said to them. "The Grey Wardens come, the instruments of the Father. Oh, and the Father, he is but a shadow lurking in the far distance. It is no matter, he is no threat. My children, how they serve me. How they love me! Some have already gone to find the Father. You cannot catch them!"
Líadan shrugged, not really concerned if the Mother's minions managed to kill the Architect. That creepy emissary and the Mother's spawn could fight each other all they wanted, because it meant they weren't actively trying to find and taint Morrigan and the Old God child. "So?" she said. "We don't much care about the Architect, or the Father, or whatever you want to call him, in case you haven't noticed."
The Mother smiled, a wicked, twisted imitation of what a smile in a non-darkspawn was, and of what her smile might once have been. "Ah, but perhaps the Wardens would like to hear how it was the Father who began the Blight?"
"We already know that part," said Líadan. She wondered if this was how Malcolm felt whenever he let his sarcasm out, which, now that she thought about it, was an awful lot. But she just didn't care. She wanted this abomination dead and gone so that she could get out of these Creators-forsaken Deep Roads and back to the surface. "So tell us something we don't know or just get to business."
"Yes, goad the giant, powerful darkspawn, that's a remarkable idea," said Nathaniel.
"Remarkably bad," said Anders. "And why is it that all the darkspawn can talk now?"
Fiona shushed them.
"Did you know how lonely the Father was?" asked the Mother. "How terrible it was for him to be the outcast, the outsider? He found me, another outsider. Curious about me and the demon who shared my body, and so he tainted me. In doing so he gave me the beautiful song, the one I could not hear while trapped in the always-changing Fade. Then... then he changed his mind. He claims he wishes the darkspawn to be free. But what he truly wants is to correct them. He wants to make us like him." She cried out in agony. "He took that beautiful music from us, and left us with nothing! I was better off in the Fade!"
"Hey, a demon that regrets invading this side of the Veil," said Anders. "Never thought I'd see that. Bet you the demon didn't, either." He looked from the other Wardens to directly at the broodmother. "We could send you back to the Fade, you know. Happily."
A sickly laugh bubbled out of the Mother's throat while her tentacles snapped and waved in the air around her. "And so it must end. It all comes crashing down! Oh, perhaps we will hear the song again when we die! Oh, let it come! Let it come!" The tentacles whipped out and the Mother's mouth split open four ways and bellowed an unearthly scream. A wave of strange power surged out of the Mother and hit Anders, sending him to the ground.
Nathaniel started firing arrows as Mhairi and Oghren ran forward and attacked the broodmother head-on. Sigrun dodged several tentacles as she ran to Anders and helped him to his feet. "Well, we know what kind of demon it is now," he said as Líadan and Fiona gave him questioning looks. "Pride demon. That's the only demon that can drain mana."
"A demon would be a sort-of templar," Líadan said. Then she turned and fired off a bolt of lightning that stopped the tentacle heading for Oghren's feet.
More shrieks sounded around them and children burst out of their fleshy sacs in a massed attack. As they swarmed, Fiona sent out a wave of cold, freezing most of them. A few—mutated kinds with sharp, spindly arms and legs—escaped. One of them blindsided Nathaniel and speared one of its spiked appendages into the top of his boot, through his foot, and into the ground. Then the creature bit Nathaniel's bow, snapping it in half as the Warden shouted in pain. Sigrun rolled over and her spinning double axes cut the darkspawn in two. Then she went from frozen creature to frozen creature, shattering them before Fiona's spell wore off.
Another scream caught their attention and they turned to see Mhairi caught up by one of the larger tentacles. It squeezed and the Wardens all heard ribs cracking and splintered bones grinding together. Oghren swore and spun, his axe swinging in a wide arc that sliced the tentacle and sent Mhairi tumbling to the ground.
"Forget about me," Nathaniel said to Fiona. "Mhairi needs you more."
Anders cursed at his lack of mana and lyrium as he helped Nathaniel remove the strange spike of a darkspawn leg from the archer's foot. Líadan left the two men behind as she moved forward to protect Fiona as she went to work on Mhairi. The warrior's chest had an odd, caved-in look about it, and Fiona's brow glistened with sweat from whatever magic she was pouring into the other woman. Líadan cast her best arcane shield around them and hoped it would hold.
The Mother laughed and another tentacle snaked out and caught Oghren by the leg, sending him to the stones underfoot. He landed an awkward angle and Líadan heard a snap.
"Sodding nug-licker!" Oghren shouted, and lifted his arm to show his left hand dangling uselessly. "What do I use to fight now? My beard?"
"Well, your beard is fairly impressive," Líadan said.
"Use this," said Sigrun, who then tossed the other dwarf one of her axes.
Oghren scoffed and held the axe—a third the size of his own battleaxe—as if it would re-taint him if he held it properly. "This is like a nuglet's toy!"
"Better than nothing," said Líadan. She handed one of her daggers to Sigrun so the dwarf could still wield two weapons and not have to change her style mid-battle like almost everyone else. "Unless you really want to use your beard."
"Braids aren't sharp enough," Oghren replied, and then hefted the axe properly. "This will have to do for now." He looked over at Fiona, who was helping an ashen-faced Mhairi sit up. "Unless you can do anything to heal my wrist?"
"It took all I had to heal Mhairi," Fiona said.
"Sod this," said Sigrun. "This bitch helped turn my friends into broodmothers. It ends now." With that, the dwarf turned and ran straight at the broodmother. She didn't stop to hack at any of the tentacles, nor did she stop to set herself up in front of the darkspawn to deliver a blow from there. Instead, she ran halfway up the Mother's front, planted her feet against two of the Mother's many breasts, and leapt with her axe held out in front of her. When she landed, the axe bit straight into the Mother's face, splitting it with a crack they felt in their bodies and burying the blade far into the brain.
As the other Wardens watched, Sigrun stabbed the dagger into the Mother's heart and twisted it, just to make sure. After a moment of stillness from the broodmother, where there was no sign of breathing or magic or anything else and the taint receded, Sigrun removed the axe and the dagger and wiped them clean. Then she clambered off the broodmother and faced her fellow Wardens. "She's dead. Let's go home."
They burned everything, and then headed for the surface.
