Days of Our Dragon Age: Episode 39: A Love as Deep as a Deep Road
SCENE: CAMP, at HIGH NOON. It is NIGHT.
BLAKE: [SADLY] Okay, everyone. We have recruited, to face the infinite hordes of the Darkspawn, a total of ten mages and forty elves. How many Darkspawn do we have to kill, again?
STEN: You just called them an infinite horde.
BLAKE: I was hoping that I was wrong, dammit.
ALISTAIR: I don't think you could ever be wrong, my sweet.
LELIANA: Want to get married?
BLAKE: I… wait, Alistair I expected, but Leliana, I thought we broke up, or…
LELIANA: I really liked something you said in the temple. It made us a couple again.
BLAKE: … … … Sure. Anyway, I'm going to come right out and say that maybe we need to improve the size of our forces. We are going to need to bolster our 'army' with an actual army. Now, where do you think we should go to seek this? I'm taking votes.
ALISTAIR: Arl Eam-
BLAKE: The Deep Roads it is! Let's go find some dwarves.
ALISTAIR: [POUTING] You said we were voting.
BLAKE: We did. I just forgot to mention that I'm the only one who gets a vote, because I'm the leader. That's what we call 'democracy.'
MORRIGAN: I wish you were a man.
[The GROUP leaves camp, beginning the LONG HIKE to the entrance of ORZAMMAR, legendary city of the DWARVES. They make it THIRTY SECONDS.]
DARKSPAWN EMISSARY: RANDOM ENCOUNTER, BITCHES!
ALISTAIR: Wow, the emissaries really are smarter than normal darksp-
EMISSARY: EMISSARY, ROCKIN' OUT THE FIREBALLS, YO! I AM THE FIRE OF PERDITION COME TO DEVOUR YOU! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH!
[The EMISSARY, being MORE CLEVER than a normal DARKSPAWN, is able to launch a MAGICAL FIREBALL at the group while SIMULTANEOUSLY shredding out a ROCKING GUITAR SOLO. They really ARE quite INTELLIGENT.]
EVERYONE: [IS ON FIRE]
WYNNE: [BEGINS TO GLOW] I was secretly being kept alive by a magical spirit the whole time!
[SPIRIT POWERS, on. ACTIVATE INTERLOCK, dynotherms CONNECTED, Infracells UP, Mega-thrusters are GO.]
BLAKE: … So your dark secret was spirit powers that can enhance you for combat? That was your dark secret?
WYNNE: Alas, for I am an abomination, animated only by a spirit who has chosen to grant me a tenuous grasp on-
BLAKE: Awesome. You're in the party forever.
WYNNE: You don't seem to be having the experience of deep religious terror I was expecting from this revelation. I'm dead, you realize.
BLAKE: No, those guys are dead. The creepy veiny faced ones, vaguely spawnlike? On the dark side? You have superpowers. You're Spirit Woman. I would marry you if you weren't, you know...
MORRIGAN: Old? Decrepit? Wrinkled like a prune?
BLAKE: … I was going to say 'grandmotherly,' I swear.
MORRIGAN: Hideous?
BLAKE: Stop helping, please.
MORRIGAN: Ancient and corroded? Willfully ignorant of the world around her in favor of propagating a broken system?
WYNNE: I can't use my spirit powers very often. You can tell because Morrigan still has a face.
MORRIGAN: Smelling vaguely of mold?
BLAKE: She's gonna keep doing this for awhile. Let's just finish walking to Orzammar before we get another random encounter.
MORRIGAN: Oddly dry, as if made of sandpaper?
[SCENE: The FROSTBACK MOUNTAINS, on the trail to ORZAMMAR, realm of the DWARVES. Yes, the REALM OF THE DWARVES is ONE CITY, and it honestly isn't even a GREAT ONE. There is a lot of MAGMA and the DARKSPAWN are their next-door NEIGHBOR, but the DWARVES remain there because they believe LIVING ABOVE GROUND is INHERENTLY EVIL. Oh, there is TECHNICALLY another CITY but you'll never GO THERE and it's PROBABLY WORSE, for all we KNOW.]
THIS is what is known as EXPOSITION intended to make sure that any READERS don't go into the coming segment with HIGH EXPECTATIONS.]
BLAKE: Okay, so does anyone know where the door is? It seems like they should put up signs.
ALISTAIR: Oh, there's a sign. Next to those fine gentleman guarding the path.
[There are FIVE INDIVIDUALS on the path. Not ALL of them are GENTLEMEN, and none of them look particularly FINE. Some do NOT HAVE TEETH, and all are carrying some manner of SHARP IMPLEMENT. There are some BLOODSTAINS on the clothing, but that will probably not be IMPORTANT.]
BOUNTY HUNTER: Hey. You Grey Wardens?
BLAKE: … No.
ALISTAIR: Hey, look. That sign says we're near Orzammar. That's important for Grey Wardens to visit! Like us!
BOUNTY HUNTER: *smile*
[The group CONTINUES THEIR TREK after wiping all of the BLOOD off of THEMSELVES. It is nearly HALF from other PEOPLE. Thankfully, WYNNE is here and she can RE-ATTACH LELIANA'S LIMBS. It's not HER FAULT that ARCHERY won't be good until the DLC.]
BLAKE: So I think we need to make some new rules about Alistair and when he can talk. I nominate 'never.'
ALISTAIR: You have beautiful eyes.
LELIANA: I've always thought so!
ZEVRAN: Mrrrrrrrrrrow.
BLAKE: You know, I hear there's people out there who really like this much attention. Would it be possible for some of you to go out and latch on to them? I hear that Hawke could really use a friend or two. You guys need more friends, don't you?
[This is TRUE, but if HAWKE had FRIENDS then they would PROBABLY JUST DIE. Be super blunt with me here, did you really enjoy playing as HAWKE? Did you have a lot of FUN sorting out the MAGE-TEMPLAR CONFLICT? Of course you DIDN'T. Playing as HAWKE was an endless slog of PAIN AND DESPAIR as everything about their life SPIRALLED out of control and they slowly but surely LOST EVERYTHING and UTTERLY FAILED to prevent a WORLD WAR, then the THIRD GAME has some new guy SOLVE THE PROBLEM in like, an HOUR. Then HAWKE makes a CAMEO and has a 50% chance of DYING.]
[Sorry, HAWKE. It's not your FAULT.]
MORRIGAN: I don't have friends, myself.
[That pretty much IS her fault, though.]
BLAKE: I believe that is literally true.
[IT IS.]
[SCENE: ORZAMMAR. There is LAVA everywhere, but it is VIDEO GAME LAVA so it only hurts you if you TOUCH IT. The DWARVES are currently having a POLITICAL DEBATE.]
DWARF A: I think Harrowmont sucks and Prince Bhelen should be king!
DWARF B: Well, I think Bhelen sucks and Lord Harrowmont should be king!
DWARF A: *MURDERS DWARF B IN THE STREETS*
BLAKE: Holy crap!
MORRIGAN: Finally, someone with a firm grasp of governance.
[We may need to consider the possibility that MORRIGAN is just an ODDLY TALL DWARF]
DWARF GUARD: Hail, Warden. I understand you've come to us seeking our mighty dwarf army to help you face off against the terror of the Darkspawn Blight.
BLAKE: I… yes. Are you going to clean up the corpse, or…
DWARF GUARD: Alas, we cannot command our forces to march without the guidance of our king, and we have none.
BLAKE: There was a murder just now, so…
DWARF GUARD: If you seek the power of the dwarven army, you shall need to chose one of the leading candidates, Prince Bhelen, the sole surviving member of the royal family and you probably just shouldn't question why that is, or the old king's friend Lord Harrowmont who seems like a great choice. Yes, he really seems that way. He certainly does seem to be the right choice. Seeeeeeeeeeeems. [WINKS a few times while DISCRETELY POINTING at GAMEFAQS.]
BLAKE: This isn't going to be any fun, is it?
DWARF GUARD: That's basically our town motto.
LELIANA: I question if ze dwarf army is even worz it, everyone. Perhaps we should just go focus on ze Arl Eamon and let zem sort zis all out for zemselves.
ALISTAIR: Yessssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss…
STEN: I feel they could not possibly be worse than the elf army, if this helps in making our choice.
MORRIGAN: I want to do whatever Alistair doesn't want to do.
WYNNE: Now, now, children. We need as many soldiers as we can get to face the Blight. We'll just have to pick one of the candidates and support his claim to the throne. I'm sure we can use our finely tuned moral compasses to determine which is the correct option. We are, after all, purely noble heroes without any factors that might render our judgments suspect.
MORRIGAN: Aren't you possessed by an extradimensional entity that could be altering your thoughts in any number of ways, potentially without you even knowing?
WYNNE: Aren't you overdue to shut up?
[With their COURSE DECIDED, the group decides to interview both CANDIDATES to determine which is the CORRECT MORAL OPTION.]
[SCENE: PRINCE BHELEN's home, the PALACE.]
BHELEN: Greetings. Welcome to my home, Grey Warden. I am a sleazy amoral murderer that is directly or indirectly responsible for the deaths of my entire family, and I'm going to be asking you to break pretty much every one of the like, six laws that we dwarves even have. Want to be friends?
WYNNE: … … … … … ... …
BLAKE: Whoa. Um. We'll, uh… we'll consider it. [WHISPERED] Let's get the Hell out of here.
[SCENE: LORD HARROWMONT'S estate.]
LORD HARROWMONT: *Pets a puppy* Greetings, my new Warden friends. I am kindly old uncle Harrowmont. Would you like a Werther's candy?
BLAKE: You seem much nicer than your opposition.
ALISTAIR: *Eats a Werther's candy*
LELIANA: I feel safe and warm.
HARROWMONT: Why, thank you, children. Yes, I am much nicer than Prince Bhelen. He is cold and cruel, while I am kind and respectful to all those who help me. I certainly SEEM like the correct choice. [PAUSES, and gestures at the player's INTERNET BROWSER while COUGHING.] That is most definitely how I SEEM. You would definitely THINK that I am the morally obvious correct choice. I SEEM THAT WAY. SEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEM.
BLAKE: Okay, everyone. We have a choice, here. Who do we want to pick?
BHELEN: *Eats a baby.*
HARROWMONT: *Rocks in his ol' rocking chair on the front porch, pouring lemonade for all the local kids.*
BLAKE: I think the choice is obvious. So. Bhelen it is, then!
MORRIGAN: You looked that up on the internet.
BLAKE: … … Verily, I knowest not of what thou speakest, fair Morrigan. Internet? Be this some magely conjuring of thine…
MORRIGAN: You did. Don't even bother pretending we have a fourth wall anymore. You looked up the ending on the internet.
BLAKE: Okay, fine. Look, it's not my fault. You try avoiding spoilers for an eight year old game, see how well you do.
MORRIGAN: You know, if you already know everything that's going to happen, I'm not even sure why I'm bothering to keep my dark secret.
[DRAMATIC ORGAN PLAYS]
BLAKE: You know, I legit thought we were done with that gag.
MORRIGAN: Do not change the subject! I'm a major plot character and my arc is crucial to the central twists of the endgame, and you're just spitting all over that. I thought we had a connection, you know? I thought 'here is someone as generally unpleasant as me, who hates Alistair, and enjoys power and murder.' I thought we could be friends, you know? But now I find out you've not even the slightest concern for maintaining secrecy regarding story structure, and-
STEN: [Hits MORRIGAN in the back of the head with a ROCK.]
BLAKE: Thanks, man, that was seriously getting awkward. Chicks, am I right?
LELIANA: Is that remark sexist if you are a woman?
BLAKE: I'm choosing to say 'no.'
SCENE: PRINCE BHELEN'S PALACE OF DESPAIR, int.
BHELEN: Fantastic, I knew you would see reason and choose the obviously correct choice for Orzammar which is foreshadowed believably.
MORRIGAN: I have such a headache. And I have no memory of the last six hours. Why is everyone here so short? It sickens me.
BLAKE: Just ignore her, prince sir. She's silly.
MORRIGAN: This one sickens me most of all. The eyes of a rat, he has.
BHELEN: I would normally object to that, but I'm going to be sending you to kill the dwarf mafia now, so honestly that's punishment enough.
BLAKE: … When you say 'kill the mafia'…
BHELEN: Yes, the whole thing.
DOG: Bark, bark!
BLAKE: I'm not going to translate that because it isn't fit for polite company, but Dog doesn't like you any more than Morrigan does.
MORRIGAN: I hate all short people. And farmers. And anyone named 'Casper.'
BLAKE: Also, Wynne, I think she has a concussion, could you fix that?
WYNNE: Eh.
[SCENE: The hideout of the DWARF MAFIA, int. int. It is a CAVE inside a CITY inside a CAVE, so I think it deserves two 'int.']
JARVIA: Hello there, Warden. I am Jarvia, head of the Dwarf Mafia, which someone really should have called by its proper name by now, but we won't. If you know what it is off the top of your head, good job on paying attention. I mean, there won't be a quiz or anything, but still, good work.
BLAKE: Nothing personal, but I have to stab you a few times because I need an army. And since we're the heroes and you're a glorified sneak thief, that's gonna be fun for everyone.
[BLAKE takes ONE STEP forward.]
SIX THOUSAND TRAPS: [ALL GO OFF AT ONCE]
[SCENE: BHELEN'S PALACE OF ETERNAL DESPAIR, int.]
BHELEN: So how was Jarvia?
BLAKE: [STILL ON FIRE] Fuck you.
BHELEN: Awesome. Now, as it turns out, that was actually a waste of time. We really just need a Paragon to approve me.
ALISTAIR: What's that?
BHELEN: When a dwarf does something which gives great aid to their people,that they will be remembered by our people forever, they are labeled as a Paragon; a living ancestor… nay, a living god. The word of a Paragon could make a king, for a Paragon is beyond a king. They are beyond us all. The living expression of Dwarfkind's greatest qualities. And we have discovered one… may still live among us. Paragon Branka, the greatest living dwarf of our time!
ALISTAIR: Ooooooh. What did she do?
BHELEN: She… invented a kind of clean-burning coal.
LELIANA: Zat… is it?
BHELEN: Yup. Canon.
BLAKE: And you made her a god for that?
WYNNE: I try not to judge foreign religions, but my word that seems a bit extreme.
STEN: My religion lobotomizes non-believers who refuse to conform.
WYNNE: … Okay. Well, it's not as extreme as that.
BHELEN: I said it gave great aid to the dwarf people, not interesting aid. Now go out into the Deep Roads and find Branka. She wandered off a few years ago and it's a maze of death that spans the entire country, but I'm sure you'll find her in a few hours.
ALISTAIR: If I could be a paragon, I'd like it to be for inventing a new kind of cheese.
BHELEN: Starting to question my choices in hiring you people, not gonna lie.
[SCENE: The DEEP ROADS. Pretty much all of the DEEP ROADS look the same, so it really could be ANYWHERE IN THEM.]
BLAKE: I feel like we're missing something…
MORRIGAN: A map?
STEN: A guide?
ALISTAIR: You look great in that outfit.
LELIANA: Oui, mon cherie.
BLAKE: … … … … Okay, this isn't the time and you creep me out a little, but it's so hot when you speak Orlesian to me, baby.
ALISTAIR: Thank you! I don't even realize when I'm doing it, apparently.
BLAKE: [SOBS for a bit.]
THE SMELL OF WHISKEY GIVEN FORM: Heya. You guys all ran out inta the Deep Roads and forgot to talk to me.
BLAKE: Oh, who the Hell are you now? And you had better not be a party member because I have quite enough of those.
A BEARD ATTACHED TO A KEG: Oh, I'm a party member. I'm the best party member. I'm here to get drunk, sexually harass everyone, and smell weird. I'm so goddamn manly you could use my blood ta give women sex changes.
ALISTAIR: Sexually harass everyone? I thought that was Zevran's job.
ZEVRAN: It isn't sexual harassment if they love it, baby.
LIKE A DWARF, ONLY MORE ALCOHOLIC: And they never love it with me. I confuse and terrify people. I. Am. OGHREN.
[THE LIGHT OF HEAVEN shines down, illuminating OGHREN, the party member you will LAUGH AT THE MOST. MAYBE. If you like DRUNK DWARVES.]
BLAKE: So… um… nice to meet you?
OGHREN: Nice tits, babe.
BLAKE: … I'mma kill him.
OGHREN: Wasn't talking to you. I meant the one with no shirt.
MORRIGAN: … I'mma kill him.
OGHREN: The Ogh-man's still got it.
ALISTAIR: By 'it', do you mean, 'the ability to make women furious?'
OGHREN: Why do you think Branka ran out into the middle of the monster-infested death caverns with her entire family? She was married to me.
WYNNE: Ah. Ah. Okay, I would have left society forever if you were my husband, I have to admit.
LELIANA: I would have left society twice. Once for ze personality, and once for ze smell.
BLAKE: And her ex-girlfriend is a sociopathic murderer, so if even she finds you repulsive, you know you're repulsive.
LELIANA: How long are you going to 'ang zat over my 'ead? Honestly, you date one sociopazic murderer, an' everyone judges vous forever.
OGHREN: I think I'm gonna like hanging out with you people. You're the same kind of chaotic mess I am, only sober.
BLAKE: I never said you could join us.
[OGHREN has joined the PARTY.]
BLAKE: Oh, right, I forgot. I have no control over my own life.
ALISTAIR: I think that's your best quality.
LELIANA: After your wonderful hair.
MORRIGAN: I don't know if I'd call it a quality, but it certainly makes my job a lot easier. [PAUSES] Not that I have a specific goal in the group or anything.
OGHREN: Does anyone have some beer?
[SCENE: The DEEP ROADS. Only EVEN DEEPER.]
OGHREN: Now, Branka took our entire clan and left me, and only me, behind, so I've been working on a way to find her so we can be a couple again.
LELIANA: You didn't take zis abandonment as a hint regarding her feelings for you? You must learn to recognize your love's moods, you know.
BLAKE: That's rich, coming from you.
ALISTAIR: Yeah, Leliana! You really need to learn to take a hint when Blake just isn't interested.
BLAKE: [QUIET SOBS]
ALISTAIR: Now look, you made her cry.
OGHREN: Whoa. I knocked back a literal gallon of vodka before I found you guys, and somehow I'm not the dumbest one in the party. Anyone think that's a little weird?
STEN: If you remain in the group for long enough, you learn to not notice it. It is like a poison which causes numbness before it inevitably kills us.
OGHREN: Neat, that's what I drink on Thursdays, ta get me ready for the hard stuff on Friday night. Anyhoo, I know that Branka started off by going to the legendary Ortan Thaig, which is dwarven for 'hideous poison spider ghost hellhole.'
WYNNE: Such a beautiful language.
BLAKE: Okay, that doesn't sound particularly nice, but if a whole army of dwarves already marched through it, I suspect we'll be fine. I mean, they had to have already killed most of the monsters and-
[A SPIDER the size of a MINIVAN falls from the ceiling and tackles BLAKE to the ground, savaging her face with its POISON FANGS.]
CORRUPTED SPIDER QUEEN: Hssssssssssss!*
[*TRANSLATED FROM SPIDERESE: My favorite food, people who wander too close to annoying boss fights!]
BLAKE: KILLITKILLITKILLITKILLITKILLITKILLITKILLITKILLITKILLITKILLITKILLITKILLITKILLITKILLITKILLITKILLIT-
WYNNE: [Releases the long-suffering SIGH of one who is never going to have an HOUR OF FREE TIME for the rest of her LIFE.]
[SCENE: The DEEP ROADS. STILL.]
BLAKE: *Twitches*
ALISTAIR: Erm… honey? Are you-
BLAKE: THERE WAS A SPIDER ON MY FACE. IT WAS LARGER THAN AVERAGE.
ALISTAIR: I'll, erm, give you some time alone.
BLAKE: I CUT OFF ITS HEAD. I SHALL WEAR IT AS A HAT NOW, TO OVERCOME PERSONAL TRAUMA AND BE A BETTER PERSON.
LELIANA: *whispered* B-but she doesn't have the….
WYNNE: I don't think you should mention that to her. This is my professional opinion as a psychiatrist.
ZEVRAN: Are you a psychiatrist?
WYNNE: I don't really need to be to analyze this one.
ZEVRAN: Fair.
OGHREN: Look on the bright side! I think we're pretty much past the worst part of the Deep Roads. Smooth sailin' from here, until we find Branka and everything's great.
[The group turns a CORNER, to find the corridors are suddenly lined with a layer of DISGUSTING FLESH that PULSATES WITH INNER CORRUPTION. It smells of ROTTING MEAT and drips VILE OOZE that steams in the DIM LIGHT of torches that use the FAT of SENTIENT BEINGS as their UNHOLY FUEL. In a ravine below, a HORDE OF DARKSPAWN march toward the SURFACE, bringing with them DISEASE, WAR, AND DEATH. The ARCHDEMON, a dragon of unstoppable power warped by BLIGHT into a TWISTED WINGED NIGHTMARE flies overhead, BLACK FLAME flickering around its RAZOR-EDGED MAW.]
[SCENE: The Dead Trenches.]
OGHREN: See? It must be a nice place. All those guys like it, an' they can't all be wrong.
EVERYONE ELSE: [SILENCE]
OGHREN: *belches*
BLAKE: All right, I'm feeling better about spiders, because I have this deep-seated fear popping up that something way worse is about to happen. Anyone else getting the feeling something way worse is about to happen?
ZEVRAN: I genuinely wonder if it could get worse than what we have already seen.
[HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Oh, wow. Oh, wow, it CAN. Like, holy crap. I can't even.]
OGHREN: Does anyone have a sandwich? I've been hammering down vodka for like six hours. I could use a snack.
ZEVRAN: You genuinely worry me.
[SCENE: DEEPER in the DEAD TRENCHES which are DEEP in the DEEP ROADS, DEEP. DEEP.]
BLAKE: All right, I think at this point our best option is to not do anything, ever, for any reason. Any door we open will have something awful behind it, so we just won't open any doors.
ZEVRAN: What if need to open a door to keep going?
BLAKE: Then we stand next to it until we die of old age. Because we can never, ever, open it. Because what's behind it will be terrible. Look at this place. Everything about it is terrible. Everything we find will be terrible. Everything. Is. Terrible.
ALISTAIR: Honey, you've had a bad day, and you have some spider venom in your brain. You're not thinking clearly. Surely not every path can lead to something awful!
[ALISTAIR opens the first DOOR he finds. Behind is an ANCIENT DARKSPAWN FORGE, surrounded by a small ARMY of the BLOODTHIRSTY BEASTS, at the head a HIDEOUSLY WIZENED and yet TERRIFYINGLY MUSCLED ancient beast, a LEGENDARY BLADE snapped off in its hide from one of many HEROES who have FALLEN BEFORE IT.]
[ALISTAIR closes the DOOR.]
ALISTAIR: Admittedly a bad example.
ZEVRAN: So cute, yet so dumb.
ALISTAIR: What?
ZEVRAN: What?
LELIANA: Let us try zis door!
[LELIANA opens another door. Behind is it is an ANCIENT CRYPT, carved from OBSIDIAN and swirling with the SOULS OF THE DAMNED. The GHOSTS of FALLEN DWARVES, their DARK AURA repelling even the DARKSPAWN, patrol their crypt, ready to SLAUGHTER ANY LIVING THING.]
[LELIANA closes the DOOR.]
BLAKE: 'Cute but dumb' is a recurring theme around here, eh?
LELIANA: You realize zat I know you are insulting me?
BLAKE: It's okay, you'll forgive me when I give you a present and say you have nice hair.
LELIANA: I cannot argue with zis.
MORRIGAN: This is amusing. Can I open a door next?
BLAKE: No!
[MORRIGAN does not LISTEN. Behind the door is a DWARVEN WOMAN; her eyes are coated in CATARACTS and EMPTY of all HOPE, her clothes torn, her skin COATED in FILTH and hideous BLACK LESIONS, as if she was ROTTING FROM WITHIN. Under her breath, she repeats a terrifying rhyme about the HORRIBLE DEATHS of all her friends and loved ones.]
MORRIGAN: Ooooh, this is the most fascinating door yet.
BLAKE: … … … What is wrong with you.
HORRIFYING DWARF WOMAN: [I… will refrain from repeating the POEM here because if you ever played the GAME, you have heard it for years in your NIGHTMARES. Suffice to say: NEVER EVER BE CAUGHT BY DARKSPAWN.]
OGHREN: Hespith? Damn, you've… looked better.
HESPITH: I have been systematically tortured and fed the bloody flesh of my kinsmen for days on end.
OGHREN: Maybe need a bath or somethin'.
HESPITH: Life is over. There is no hope. I seek only oblivion now.
OGHREN: I… shit, does anyone have a beer or somethin' for her? I drank all mine on the way here to prep me for drinking when we get home to celebrate saving Branka and the clan.
HESPITH: She betrayed us, feeding her entire clan to the Darkspawn. The men are dead. The women are worst. I am the only survivor… … … no. No, I did not survive. My heart still beats, but I am dead. Branka is dead, for there is nothing inside her now but madness and obsession. House Branka is dead.
OGHREN: Erm… I'm still okay?
HESPITH: [SQUINTS] … Oh sweet ancestors, it's Oghren. I thought I was hallucinating, but the smell of it is worse even than this pit of horrors. Like rotting cheese and a skunk had a baby.
OGHREN: Nice to see you too. How ya doin'?
HESPITH: I thought I was in Hell before, but fate cannot help but drag me that tiny bit lower.
OGHREN: Yeah, running out of beer will do that. So, uh, how is Branka doing? I mean, other than… leaving you to die.
HESPITH: You are familiar with the Anvil of the Void? The legendary tool that allows dwarves to create golems?
OGHREN: I am, and not just because you summarized it right there.
BLAKE: Thanks for doing that, by the way.
HESPITH: You're welcome. Well, in any case, Branka quite wants it. And she decided everyone else in the world was holding her back.
OGHREN: Even me?
HESPITH: Especially you. Also, I've been sleeping with her. For years. Before, during, and after your marriage. You are a cuckold.
OGHREN: … … ... Why would you mention that?
HESPITH: It is literally the only small joy I have left in my existence.
BLAKE: I wish I had met you earlier. I think you and I would have gotten along before you were like… mentally and physically destroyed.
ALISTAIR: She's right, you know. Oghren does smell like skunk cheese.
LELIANA: I vould have zaid 'badger garbage,' but I accept many viewpoints.
MORRIGAN: Truly, dwarfland is a wonderful place. I may retire here one day, when my plans have come to fruition. [PAUSE] Not that I have any plans.
[NOT seeing any real evidence against that 'TALL DWARF' theory. If she starts MINING we can pretty much CONFIRM it.]
HESPITH: Well. You people certainly are… special. Let me tell you a fun secret. The way out of the Dead Trenches to where Branka has gone is through the door down this hallway. Have fun.
BLAKE: Is the secret really fun?
HESPITH: [RESUMES saying her CREEPY RHYME.]
BLAKE: Okay, I'm choosing to stay optimistic about the secret. We don't know for sure it won't be fun.
[SCENE: Through the DOOR, in a room that looks like the WOMB in which is gestating the baby of SATAN and HITLER.]
BROODMOTHER, HIDEOUSLY BLOATED, PALLID, DEFORMED TENTACLE BEAST FROM THE PITS OF HELL: Hrrrrrrrsssssssss!
BLAKE: WHY DOES IT HAVE BOOBS?!
ALISTAIR: I'M NOT HAVING FUN!
LELIANA: OH GOD THE SMELL IS SO AWFUL I CAN FEEL IT IN MY MOUTH!
ZEVRAN: THE VERY CONCEPT OF SEX HAS BECOME DISGUSTING TO ME!
MORRIGAN: Ooooh, fascinating.
STEN: If you ever wondered why I don't talk much? This would be why. Moments like this.
DOG: Bark, bark!
STEN: You're the only one of these people I can respect.
BROODMOTHER, THE NIGHTMARE OF SIGMUND FREUD AFTER A WEEK-LONG TRIP THROUGH THE PORN DISTRICTS OF JAPAN: [GIVES birth to a THOUSAND ANGRY YOUNG, who charge at the party, screaming and coated in VILE BLACK OOZE.]
BLAKE: [Throws up.]
OGHREN: Either I'm drunk, or that lady just spat a buncha darkspawn out of her-
BLAKE: YOU'RE DRUNK AND THAT HAPPENED.
OHGREN: Damn. That's like, 50% bad.
WYNNE: [Just SIGHS and starts casting the HEALING SPELLS. ALISTAIR is already being CHEWED ON.]
[SCENE: Still in the DEEP ROADS, and interlocking WEB of tunnels that nonetheless still only have ONE ROUTE to FOLLOW.]
BLAKE: [CLEANING something off her FACE that one probably shouldn't THINK ABOUT too hard.] All right. All right. All right. We are sure the thing is dead, yes? We are sure? Because we'll have to come back this way and I wanna know. I never, ever want to see another of those again. Ever.
[Hahaha… yeah, ABOUT THAT.]
BLAKE: You stay out of this. Sten, did you perform the operation?
STEN: [Holds up BROODMOTHER'S disgusting head.] I'm not sure why I'm the one who has to carry this.
BLAKE: Because you're the biggest. You have the most meat to get through if it comes alive and starts trying to eat people.
STEN: I have grown to hate you.
BLAKE: Don't be uncool about this, Sten. I'll reward you. Two extra portions of gruel for you at the camp this evening.
ALISTAIR: We have other food, you know. You don't have to feed us gruel all the time.
BLAKE: And you don't have to talk, but that's never stopped you.
MORRIGAN: [SIGHS WISTFULLY.] Have I ever told you that I'd ride you like a stallion if you were a guy?
BLAKE: You have, and it never stops being off-putting.
MORRIGAN: You know it, tiger.
BLAKE: You know, the only reason I'm even still sane is that we have just been through a ridiculous mess that was longer than the stupid elf forest and the stupid wizard tower combined. So I know we're done. Okay? This has to be the end.
[Because BLAKE still has not learned to TEMPT FATE for some reason, a DWARF appears on the rocky cliffs above them, looking down, even as a huge metal gate SLAMS SHUT behind the party.]
CUCKOO FOR COCOA PUFFS: Done? Fools! You have an entire dungeon left, bwahahahahahahaha!
OGHREN: Honey bear!
WACK-A-DOODLE DANDY: Eh? Who are you?
OGHREN: It's me! Oghren!
ONE PICKAXE SHORT OF A DWARF MINE: Who?
OGHREN: … Your husband? You… we were married for years?
LOONEY TUNES, WELCOME TO THE SPACE JAM: Gonna have to be more specific. I used to have a lot of relatives, before I fed them all to the darkspawn to further my insane goals. They all kind of blend together in the razor-filled soup that is my mind.[PAUSES.] Bwahahahahahahaha!
OGHREN: *sigh* Everyone, this is Branka.
BLAKE: [BLINKS a few times.] So, hey, Leliana, you may have just graduated to having the second-worst ex out of anyone in the party. Congrats.
LELIANA: Ze trick is to shine by comparison.
BRANKA: None may shine but Branka! Am I not the greatest of all dwarves? Did I not come up with the brilliant plan to find the Anvil of the Void by opening the door and letting infinite darkspawn funnel in until the traps in front of it just stop working from getting too much blood in them? Did I not abandon all of my friends and family to a fate worse than death, letting them be defiled and mutated into hideous bloated monsters, in order to ensure this supply?
[SILENCE.]
BLAKE: I… um… holy shit, did you?
BRANKA: I did!
BLAKE: Sweet Andraste's ass. Leliana, the ambiguity is gone. You win. You win forever. I miss Marjolaine. I would pay literal money to have Marjolaine standing here in front of us right now.
LELIANA: [Grins SMUGLY.]
STEN: I do believe we have met a leader worse than our own. I had considered this to be nearly impossible. But the world is a strange and many-faceted place, full of new experiences and diverse peoples. [PAUSE.] I look forward to the day my people conquer and destroy it all.
BLAKE: Hey. Eat a dick, buddy.
STEN: I am not hungry.
BRANKA: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! You'll need to find your way through all the traps and reach the Anvil of the Void to escape this terrible dungeon, you fools! [PAUSE] BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
MORRIGAN: I actually forgot she was here. Do you suppose we should proceed forward? I should like to have this Anvil for my own use, of course, but honestly more than anything I suspect we'll need to kill that one at the end of this whole mess, and I deeply wish to.
OGHREN: We're not killing her, crazy-tits! She's my wife!
MORRIGAN: You saying that only makes me want to kill her more.
WYNNE: Sweet Andraste, I think I actually semi-agree with Morrigan.
MORRIGAN: That's weird.
BRANKA: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
MORRIGAN: Though also, in this one case, understandable.
BLAKE: Wow. I… this might be the first time we've all agreed on something. Branka is annoying enough to kill. Unanimous vote?
OGHREN: I said no!
BLAKE: Unanimous it is.
[SCENE: A cave that looks pretty much like EVERY cave. The DEEP ROADS are so INTERESTING.]
BLAKE: All right. She said there would be traps, so we can assume things are going to be troublesome here.
LELIANA: But my love, we 'ave me 'ere to disarm all ze traps we might see.
BLAKE: Hahahahahahahahahahahaha! Y-you're gonna disarm the trapsHAHAHAHAHAHA!
LELIANA: Zis makes you happy, I see.
BLAKE: [WIPES AWAY a tear of mirth.] S-sure. That's why I was laughing. I can't think of any other reason I might be laughing. It's not as though every single trap we've ever encountered in this entire game has exploded in our faces because you don't notice them until we're already standing in them half the time. I'd never think such things.
LELIANA: I know vous would not. Now, as my approval has hit ze high 70's and we 'ave done my sidequest, let us make passionate love when next we return to camp.
BLAKE: … … … Sometimes you people being dumbasses works out for me.
ALISTAIR: I love you too, dear.
[BLAKE reaches out and pushes ALISTAIR one step FORWARD, setting off a HORRIBLE TRAP.]
LELIANA: [OBSERVING THIS] Trap, right ahead!
[The HALLWAY fills with POISONOUS GAS, causing ALISTAIR to fall to his knees and begin CHOKING to DEATH. Even as this occurs, GOLEMS wake up on either side of the HALLWAY, preparing to PULVERIZE him.]
MORRIGAN: 'Tis like every birthday present my mother never bothered to give me because birthdays are for the weak, delivered to me all at once.
WYNNE: [NARROWS EYES.] You people just delight in making my job harder, don't you? You kill Alistair all you want, and then I have to heal him. You think that's easy? Or fun? I would like to have time to read a nice book from time to time, not just put everyone's kidneys back in their bodies.
ALISTAIR: Sweet Andraste my kidneys! They're out of my body, because of the golems!
WYNNE: You're being quite inconvenient, young man!
[SCENE: The NEXT HALLWAY.]
BLAKE: Okay. Everyone, this hallways seems much nicer than the first one. I suspect it to be a, you know, breather after the first hallway. I think that one of you should get to lead the way, and really enjoy it.
STEN: I can see the golems standing there. On the sides.
BLAKE: No, you don't.
STEN: Yes, I do. I see them.
BLAKE: They might not be golems. They might just be statues.
STEN: They look exactly like the other golems, from the first hallway. Whoever goes first will clearly be beaten horribly by them.
BLAKE: We don't know that. And I think it's worth sending in Oghren in first to check.
STEN: Oh. I didn't realize you were building to that. Yes, then, I agree.
OGHREN: The hell, you guys?!
DOG: Woof, woof!
OGHREN: Thank you.
BLAKE: He was actually saying that your smell sickens him and he hopes your death removes it from the world.
OGHREN: … Yer dog's a jerk.
BLAKE: [Reaches out a HAND, and shoves OGHREN one step FORWARD.]
[NOTHING happens.]
OGHREN: … … Huh. Maybe this hallway actually was a breather. I mean, nothing seems to be…
[GIANT RAZOR-EDGED BUZZSAWS erupt from the floor and ceiling, burying OGHREN in a STORM of BLADES.]
MORRIGAN: Whoever designed this place has a very interesting sense of humor. I wonder if they design swamp cottages? I really was looking to trade up.
BLAKE: On the plus side, the golems don't seem to have woken… oh, never mind, there they do.
OGHREN: Oh ancestors, my kidneys!
LELIANA: Trap, right ahead!
[SCENE: The FINAL puzzle room. It is a large, open chamber, with a large FOUR-FACED STATUE in the middle surrounded by ANVILS.]
BLAKE: Okay, so this chamber is probably the breather one. Zevran, you go first!
ZEVRAN: I thought you liked me.
BLAKE: I'm running low on sacrificial lambs.
ZEVRAN: Send Morrigan!
BLAKE: She's scarier than you.
MORRIGAN: It's true!
ZEVRAN: [Sighs DEEPLY and steps FORWARD.]
STATUE: [Comes ALIVE and begins spawning an ARMY OF GHOSTS.]
ZEVRAN: Oh, that isn't so bad. At least no poison gas or razor blades hit me.
ALISTAIR: Screw you.
OGHREN: Seriously.
[What FOLLOWS is what is known in video-game parlance as a PUZZLE BOSS. In this particular case, the HEROES must destroy the GHOSTS, which causes an ANVIL to activate. Then you ACTIVATE the anvil to attack the MAIN STATUE. This sounds kind of INTERESTING.]
[It is NOT.]
ZEVRAN: *Yawn*
MORRIGAN: Oh my non-existent Maker, these things are so tedious. We've turned on these damnable anvils five times already and it's just won't end.
BLAKE: I think it's just three more, guys. Come on, this is clearly meant to be the puzzle that makes people stop coming for the Anvil of the Void because they get bored and go grab lunch instead. We just have to power through it.
WYNNE: I could do without the statue shooting just enough damage to be annoying but not enough to kill anyone.
BLAKE: We could all do without that, Wynne, but you don't see us whining about it.
LELIANA: Vould anyone like to take a break for lunch? We 'ave been in ze Deep Roads for a long time, and zis stupid boss…
BLAKE: No! Look, we have to be near the end. I know it's tedious, but we gotta get this done, and then we go back to the surface and never, ever come back.
ALISTAIR: Who would possibly be cruel enough to design this place?
[SCENE: BIOWARE OFFICES.]
PROGRAMMER: Hey, Bob. We have all the major quests for Dragon Age: Origins ready except the two you were supposed to design. Do you happen to have them set?
RAOUL: [Twists his SINISTER MOUSTACHE while looking with GLEE at the completed maps for the DEEP ROADS and the CIRCLE TOWER. They take up his ENTIRE DESK and most of the one NEXT to it.] Yes… yesssssssssssss…. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
PROGRAMMER: You've been weird ever since you grew that moustache, Bob.
[SCENE: The ANVIL OF THE VOID. The great device itself gleams with flame; and who can say whether this is the POWER within it, or merely the UNTOLD MAJESTY of the lava fields it OVERLOOKS? Standing before it is the most ORNATE and POWERFUL of all golems, forged not from STONE but from interlocking, rune-covered STEEL PLATES. It gives off an aura of quiet power and DIGNITY.]
BLAKE: You can go to Hell and die, jackass.
GOLEM: … Excuse me?
BLAKE: Oh. OH! I'm sorry. I thought you were going to be another goddamn boss fight. Just that we've gone through like six at this point.
GOLEM: Oh. Right, you must be the ones I heard fighting the four-faced statue. Did you have fun?
BLAKE: …
MORRIGAN: I'm going to kill it and make a cooking pot of its skull.
ZEVRAN: I shall cook delightful Antivan dishes in it.
DOG: Bark, bark.
BLAKE: You don't want to know what he said. And now, let's all kill this thing.
GOLEM: Wait, wait. I would like to offer you an alternative path. You see, I may look like a giant metal golem, but I am actually Caridin, the original creator of this mighty anvil you see before you.
BLAKE: Huh. Interesting. I'm sorry I called you a thing, then. Kill this guy, everyone.
CARIDIN: Would you please stop.
BLAKE: Sorry, I'm in a bad mood. I'll allow you to talk.
MORRIGAN: But my cooking pot!
BLAKE: I will buy you a cooking pot.
MORRIGAN: You never let me have anything I want.
BLAKE: We would get you things that you want, but you always want evil! Caridin, just ignore her, she's the evil one.
CARIDIN: I'm actually getting the impression most of you are pretty evil.
BLAKE: Leliana and Wynne are nice.
ALISTAIR: What about me?
BLAKE: You don't count, because to be 'good' you have to be smart enough to have some general idea of what is going on around you in the universe. Much like a goldfish isn't good or evil, you aren't.
ALISTAIR: I love you too, dear.
CARIDIN: … Sure. Anyway, what I was going to say here, is that you should actually destroy this Anvil. Because you see, Golems are people.
BLAKE: Oh. Um. I should probably mention we killed like twelve on our way here.
CARIDIN: I… oh, shit. Was one of those Jeff? Because Jeff owed me twenty silver.
ALISTAIR: How would we know?
CARIDIN: He was made of stone.
LELIANA: Zat narrows it down very little. Also, how are ze golems made of ze people? I 'ave seen zem, and zey are in fact made of ze stone, or in vous case ze metal.
CARIDIN: … What even is your accent?
BLAKE: Hey! We've already been over that. It doesn't need to make sense. Tell us the story of your stupid past and don't lead us off on any tangents, or we'll be on it for another damn hour.
ALISTAIR: Hey, have you guys ever thought about pudding?
BLAKE: NO TANGENTS.
CARIDIN: Well. The way I discovered to make golems was to shove a person into a giant rock suit, and then pour molten hot magic rocks on them. But it wasn't until they made me a golem that I realized: this was bad.
BLAKE: ….
LELIANA: ….
WYNNE: ….
MORRIGAN: I don't see the issue.
BLAKE: Morrigan! Stop helping!
WYNNE: You truly didn't see the issue with pouring molten rock on your people, sir golem-dwarf?
CARIDIN: Well, they were poor.
MORRIGAN: Makes perfect sense to me!
ZEVRAN: You terrify me. And I am an assassin.
STEN: In my country, we would have cut his eyes out and sewn his mouth shut.
ZEVRAN: Erm… as punishment for… mutilating thousands of his own people?
STEN: No, we just do that to anyone who uses magic. As is right and proper.
ZEVRAN: I… am an assassin. And I am not the scariest person on this team. I… how did this happen? I mean, I still have my position as the sexy one, but still.
BLAKE: Oh, whatever. You know what? I don't even care. Let's just break this thing and go home, it's not like we actually like Bhelen. No need for another stupid boss fight.
BRANKA: DID SOMEONE ORDER ANOTHER STUPID BOSS FIGHT?!
BLAKE: [Kind of TWITCHES.]
[SCENE: ORZAMMAR, about a MONTH LATER. The team WANDERS into the CITY, because to WALK into a city you need to have some DIGNITY REMAINING. NOBODY looks very HAPPY, nobody is TALKING, and BLAKE still has a bit of BRANKA on her.]
OGHREN: …. Did ya really have to cut off her…
BLAKE: I SWEAR I WILL EAT YOUR HEART.
STEN: She may in fact do it. Her mind is unstable. [PAUSES] More than the rest of you, I mean.
LELIANA: Oh, and you are ze paragon of sanity?
STEN: I am a member of a fanatical expansionist brainwashing cult. [PAUSES] So yes.
WYNNE: I miss my demon-infested tower.
OGHREN: But now, seriously, you cut off her-
BLAKE: HSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.
[SCENE: Inside the DWARVEN ASSEMBLY HALL.]
BHELEN: I should be king!
HARROWMONT: Nuh-uh!
BHELEN: Uh-huh!
DWARVEN POLITICIAN: Sweet ancestors, the chance to see such wondrous political masters at work is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
DWARVEN POLITICIAN 2: The pinnacle of dwarven culture, we see before us.
BHELEN: You smell!
HARROWMONT: Your mom smells!
[The AIR grows COLD. BLAKE enters. Nobody seems HAPPY TO SEE HER.]
BLAKE: Everyone. Shut up. Bhelen, you are king now. Paragon said so. And if anyone questions it, I will gut everyone in this room.
HARROWMONT: Which para-
[SCENE: BHELEN's THRONE ROOM.]
BHELEN: I can't believe she cut off all their-
OGHREN: Shit, quiet, she's waking up, don't let her hear you say that.
BLAKE: Uuuuugh… my head hurts…
MORRIGAN: [With one BLACK EYE, and walking on CRUTCHES.] Oh, yes, once again the real problem is how uncomfortable you are. Bitch.
ALISTAIR: Are you okay, my little rose blossom? I'm afraid you had a… tiny episode.
WYNNE: The Dwarves no longer have a senate. I'm not sure that's tiny.
LELIANA: She was not foaming at ze mouth like after ze mage tower, that's a step in ze right direction.
ZEVRAN: I have to guess the new king won't be happy, though…
BHELEN: Actually, I was probably going to have them all killed and blame it on foreigners eventually. Now I don't have to put in the effort, so hey, win-win.
BLAKE: … … … I think I have dwarf blood in my mouth.
STEN: There was some biting. It was quite efficient. I assume you learned it from your exceptional dog.
DOG: Bark, bark!
STEN: You remain the only one of this group I respect.
BLAKE: I… ugh. You know what, screw it. Things ended well…
WYNNE: Not for the dwarves you bit to death!
BLAKE: Not counting them. And Bhelen will give me his army now. Won't he?
BHELEN: Of course. The dwarves always stand ready to face our ancient foes, the Darkspawn, be it beneath the ground or above it. I shall give you the sum total of my military force, the mightiest army on Thedas. I shall give you an overwhelming horde of professional killers, each one weaned on the blood of their foes. I shall give you… [PAUSE for DRAMATIC EFFECT]… fifty soldiers!
[BLAKE takes this information IN.]
[SCENE: The ROYAL PALACE in DENERIM]
LOGHAIN: So my daughter, the queen? She was asking if I had her husband killed to take his throne and now I'm locking her in the palace so she can't run the country without me.
TIM CURRY: Oh shit, what did you tell her?
LOGHAIN: I kind of coughed and pretended I didn't hear her. I mean, how do you reply to that?
TIM CURRY: We should kill her.
LOGHAIN: I… what? No. She's my daughter, you asshole. We're not killing her.
TIM CURRY: I'd kill her if she was my daughter. Watch, let me get my daughter.
LOGHAIN: No! Dude, nobody's daughter is getting killed. We'll just keep her locked up until I defeat everyone who thinks I shouldn't be running the country, then kill all the Grey Wardens, then defeat the infinite horde of monsters. I'm sure I can manage that in a week or two, no problems. Then she can have her country back.
TIM CURRY: I'll get a knife.
LOGHAIN: Stop that. Seriously, I'm really questioning why I let you in on this conspira-
[An ear-splitting SHRIEK, like a TORTURED CAT being STEPPED ON by an ELEPHANT with a FOOT INFECTION that is being RIDDEN by an easily started OPERA SINGER, rings through the PALACE. No, the WORLD. Carried by the endless chasms of the DEEP ROADS, it ECHOES into ETERNITY, bringing with it a WAVE of almost PALPABLE FRUSTRATION that makes everyone who hears it feel SLIGHTLY WORSE about the way their LIFE has been going so far.]
LOGHAIN: …
TIM CURRY: …
LOGHAIN: You know, I got the strangest feeling that was like, exactly fifty dwarves worth of rage. Don't ask me why. Weird, right?
TIM CURRY: So… um… wanna sell some city elves into slavery to pay for our war?
LOGHAIN: Do I ever!