SERENA

"This is why I left the wardens. I hate the blighted Deep Roads!" Anders grumbles as Hawke, Varric, Fenris, and I lower our weapons to scan the most recent pile of hurlock corpses, scattered around us.

It's only been about two hours since we've entered the primeval thaig, but this was our seventh battle. I'd expected some exercise, of course. It's the Deep Roads for crying out loud! I assumed there'd be a few darkspawn clusters here and there. Maybe some deepstalkers. Or spiders. But not so many groups. And certainly not a monstrous spider that should've never been born.

From experience, this doesn't bode well for the rest of our journey.

However, we have to continue forward. This expedition isn't meant to be a joy-ride, and we all knew that when we signed up in the first place. Nightmarish spiders or no.

"I can second that notion," I nod in agreement. "The hating the Deep Roads portion, I mean."

The leaving the wardens part was for a completely different matter.

"Make that three," Varric adds.

He places Bianca back in her holster, turns around, and continues down our current corridor, the rest of us following quietly in tow.

"My ancestors must've been completely crazy. Why would anyone live down here . . . on purpose?" he asks.

I grin and shake my head. "And here I thought a visit to the Deep Roads might actually help you find some of that narcissistic, dwarven pride you've been missing. The paragons will be disappointed."

Varric glances back at me with a cunning smirk. "Nice try, Twinkle Toes. But there doesn't appear to be any paragons here in the first place."

All of my sense of humor evaporates at the statement.

"True," I mutter and look around the dimly lit hall. Red lyrium vines, lodged deep in the cracked ruin walls, light our path now. Yet, the ominous feelings they provoke make me squirm with unease. The fact that I can sense even more darkspawn, lingering nearby, only disquiets me further. "I've never seen a thaig quite like this before," I continue, recalling my prior group's adventures back in Orzammar. "The overall structure's similar, but it's missing a lot of pieces found in typical dwarven thaigs. The lack of paragon statues being just one example."

"You mean you've seen others?" Hawke quirks an eyebrow at me.

I jolt, realizing my mistake. "Yes, but none noteworthy enough to walk everyone down memory lane."

Except maybe the Cadash or Ortan thaigs. Or Bownammer. But those stories I'll keep to myself. No point in drawing more attention to this tiny detail. The less they know, the safer.

Varric sighs and scratches the back of his head; his stubby fingers disappear into his smooth, strawberry-blond hair. "The mysteries just keep growing larger," he says. "First you, then Sandal, and now this thaig!"

At the mention of Sandal, I recall the scene where we found him earlier.

The looks on everyone's faces were priceless. It must've been quite a surprise for them, for good reason. For me though, it was reminiscent of the time I found him alone atop Fort Drakon, surrounded by darkspawn corpses without so much as a single ally or weapon.

I still don't know how he did it. But now, I have a better idea after examining that frozen ogre and rune, as unusual and outrageous as it might seem. It's a nifty concept, though. One I wish I could discuss with Wynne further. Or someone more experienced at the Circle. Maybe Dagna would know? She's bound to have studied it now long enough.

As I consider the possibility more, we reach the end of the current corridor. We stop in front of a lone, closed door. Hawke pulls it open with little effort, and quietly, our group steps inside.

Within resides a grand chamber. Remnants of massive pillars line our path up to a magnificent staircase at the center. A lone stone altar stands proudly at the top of the steps—as if awaiting our anticipated arrival.