CHAPTER 19

..x..

The old hut was but a cover for a cave leading to intricate passages lit by torches. Distant dripping echoed, the muggy air making it more difficult to breathe. These caves had been around for a long time. And if the Carta were as influential as Harrowmont said, then they led to other places in Orzammar. They hadn't run into any enemies but she assumed they already knew they were coming.

"'Tis awfully quiet for a lair full of criminals," Morrigan pointed out. "This does not sit well with me."

"Good thing we have you to set them on fire when they show up." Everil grinned at her from over a shoulder. "We could use more light, anyway."

Morrigan smiled back. "Indeed..."

A flicker ahead drew their attention to a single dwarf holding a crossbow. But before Everil could calculate how to deal with him, he'd taken aim, firing a bolt their way. They had to duck to avoid it, the dark making it difficult to see the bolt's actual trajectory. It hit a spot behind them, exploding into a cloud of smoke and throwing them into a coughing fit.

Alistair and Zevran rose as the dwarf reloaded his weapon, then charged, blades drawn.

"Wait!" Everil called out before they heard a loud click. All froze in place.

Morrigan blinked. "What—"

The floor below them opened, swallowing them along with their surprised cries.

"Everil!" Alistair ran back as the trap door closed shut, separating him and Zevran from the two women. "Shit!" He whirled about and ducked as another bolt came flying.

Cloak flowing with the motion, Zevran dashed to the enemy and slit open his throat. The dwarf let out a strangled cry, gurgling as he fell.

Alistair sheathed his blade and headed towards the elf with purposeful strides.

"What happened?" Zevran wondered in puzzlement.

"They sought to separate us and got what they wanted," he replied, stalking past him and over the dwarf's corpse. "Come on, we need to find them quickly. Keep your eyes open for more traps."

Zevran watched him go, noticing a change in the other man. In his short time traveling with him, it had been obvious that Alistair wasn't the confident type. Often leaving everything up to the other Warden. Now, he appeared to be more sure of himself when telling them what to do—more determined and focused. The assassin shrugged and followed him down the shadowy corridor, hurrying his pace to catch up to him.

.x.x.x.x.

Everil landed roughly on the unrelenting ground, releasing a painful grunt. And before she could move, Morrigan came down after her. The witch's slender body crashed on top of hers, forcing all the air out of her.

"Oh!" Morrigan removed herself from her companion. "I apologize…"

"You're… forgiven." With effort, Everil sat up, an arm across her torso as she struggled to regain her ability to breathe.

Morrigan gazed up at the hole through which they fell, then looked around. They were in another passage, one with a door at the end. "It appears 'tis only us now."

"They split us up…" Everil rose to her feet, scanning the area for trouble or more traps. "Curses... I knew they were ready for us."

"This was all a mistake. We should have left and taken our chances without these foolish dwarves." Morrigan pushed herself from the ground, using her staff for support.

The Warden didn't respond, wondering if the witch was right. But then that momentary doubt disappeared. She had to remind herself that taking chances wasn't exactly the best course of action. Especially when the fate of an entire country rested on their shoulders. Sometimes to get things done right, one had to take the long road instead of going for the shortcuts.

Their footsteps echoed as they neared the door, finding no traps along the way. Everil cautiously opened it, eyes narrowing as she gazed inside. It was a room containing boxes and chests. Goods waiting for smuggling. It was quiet once more, with only the same distant prattle of water and the sound of their own breathing. They entered, Everil drawing her sword.

"We fell through their trap… The fools. Now would be the perfect time to be upon us," Morrigan whispered.

Everil let out a nervous chuckle. "Please don't give them ideas..."

As if on cue, a gate on the other side of the room flew open. Several Carta dwarves poured out, all carrying daggers, swords, and axes.

"Too late…" Morrigan cursed her own mouth for the first time.

The Warden drew her dagger and stepped forward, waiting for the first dwarf to come to her. She deflected his sword and spun on one foot, slashing his throat open before moving on to the next target. They outnumbered them. And now they lacked Alistair's and Zevran's offensive power. She had to end this battle quickly before they overwhelmed them. "Morrigan! Ice them!" she called, striking another down.

At her command, the witch waved her staff, summoning her magical powers. Everil darted out of the spell's path, allowing her cone of cold to spread and freeze everything it touched. The Warden rushed in, shattering each enemy and advancing on those still moving. She slid over the iced ground, her feet taking out one's legs. She plunged her dagger into his chest, then bolted up, slashing upwards and killing the enemy next to him. Everil spun around, expecting more thugs. None came.

Morrigan walked over the bodies of the dead and dying as those frozen thawed. "Well done."

"Thank you." Everil wiped red from her cheek. Her gaze went from the Carta to where they'd burst from, seeing the door was still ajar. "Let's keep moving."

Cautious and alert, the Warden went into the next area first, followed by Morrigan. But despite their best efforts, the darkness made it difficult to see past the torches. Movement from the corner of her eye had Everil turn her head in time to see something coming.

"Look out!" She tackled Morrigan to the ground, avoiding a massive hammer. It smashed the wall beside them, sending chunks of rock exploding in all directions. Before Everil could face their unknown enemy, an armored hand seized her neck, drawing a surprised gasp.

From the floor, Morrigan watched in shock as a qunari in plate armor lifted her off of her. Everil grunted, kicking her feet while dangling in his grasp. And he threw her across the hallway, sending her flying as if she were weightless. Her body hit the wall sideways, causing her to drop her weapons. She landed roughly on her side, her back to the witch.

"Warden!" Morrigan called in alarm, unable to tell if she was yet conscious. The seconds ticked by as if time stalled, her expectant gaze on her motionless form. To her momentary relief, Everil let out a soft groan and rolled onto her stomach, going to her hands and knees.

The qunari crossed the distance to the dazed Grey Warden, set on finishing the job. He lifted the hammer above his head, releasing a threatening roar.

"Get away from her!" Morrigan cried out, bolting to her feet and unleashing a storm of electricity aimed at the qunari's back. He halted mid-swing and whirled about to stalk after her, rage in his pale, gray eyes. The witch backed up a step, purple lips pressed into a line as the giant towered over her. He pulled back a fist, preparing to pummel her to dust. Curses…!

"Argh!" He stumbled, then turned, reaching behind him to remove Everil from his back. She buried her blades deep between his neck and shoulders, holding on with gritted teeth. Releasing a growl of her own, she twisted her weapons, drawing an agonizing howl out of him. And then he took several, unsteady steps, whimpering as he bled. Then the mass of muscle and steel slammed to the ground.

Everil winced, sitting up and plucking her blades from his corpse. She gazed at Morrigan, who was staring with her mouth hanging open. "That was a close one," she huffed out, smiling at her. "Are you all right?"

"'Tis I who should ask you that question, foolish girl..." She walked up to her, offering a hand.

Everil chuckled and took it, letting her help her stand before holding the side of her aching head. "I'm fine. Just a minor bump and an aching hip. Nothing serious." She picked up her other weapon, swinging them both clean before sheathing them at her sides. "I didn't expect to find a qunari here. It makes me glad Sten is on our side."

"Perhaps he is a hired hand. We should be careful, as there could be more."

"Agreed."

The both of them then resumed their trek. "I hope Alistair and Zevran are faring better than we were just now."

"'Tis likely they had a few surprises of their own..."

.x.x.x.x.

One thug wailed as Alistair cut him down, then the Warden pivoted on one foot to run another through. After defeating all the enemies, he straightened himself and surveyed the area. Zevran came near him. "Hah! That was not as bad as it looked." The elf smiled wickedly, face and chest stained red.

Alistair sighed. "Oh, there's more of them further in, I'm sure."

The two men resumed their quest, passing boxes full of glass bottles and precious metals. Their path twisted and met the occasional storeroom, then stretched for another mile or so. The passages were no doubt an entire network right under Orzammar and out to other parts of Ferelden.

"You think these tunnels connect with your Deep Roads?" Zevran inquired, voice echoing despite his best efforts to keep quiet. "They seem to go on forever."

"I hope not. Otherwise, we'll have something more than just the Carta to worry about. And let me tell you, fighting darkspawn doesn't sound particularly appealing to me right now."

"Yes. I prefer dwarves. They're so much nicer to look at."

A chuckle escaped the Warden. "I agree… Even with all the belching, they're far more attractive."

"Especially in the dark..." Zevran's brief laugh joined his as they crossed another shadowy section.

The pair then fell silent, trying to keep the noise to a minimum. Alistair couldn't tell if it was because the elf hadn't tried to kill them again, but he'd grown to trust him a little more. And even with the occasional ogling, he'd kept his distance from Everil. Which helped keep things between them much more civil. He still didn't consider him a friend, though—even doubted he ever would. But at least working with him wasn't as exasperating as it used to be.

"Wait…" Alistair halted them as footsteps and the clanking of armor bounced off the walls. "It sounds like we're about to have more company."

"So many…" The assassin let out a breath. "There's no way the girls didn't already run into trouble."

"Yeah… We should hurry." With a firm look, Alistair resumed their advance, sword in hand.

Zevran smirked. "Right behind you."

They took out more Carta members in their wake as they went further into their lair. Traps set up for them failed, thanks to Zevran's ability to pot and disarm them. Alistair noticed they were as untrained as the darkspawn. Predictable and disorganized despite their numbers. That these were casteless dwarves probably had something to do with it, since they likely couldn't develop their traits.

Soon they arrived at a massive chamber with two doors, one of which was larger than the other. A sentinel stood beside it, surrounded by more dwarves. "Ah, they have a bodyguard, it seems." Zevran twirled his blades while the enemy encroached upon them.

"That's a qunari… Why do they have a qunari?" Alistair grimaced, thinking back to Thorpe and how much of a pain he was to defeat on his own.

"Does this bring back memories?" Zevran teased.

"Yes… Wonderful memories of a time—not too long ago—when you tried to kill me."

The assassin smiled without regret. "Hey, look on the bright side. At least now you know how to bring one down, my friend."

"Get them!" The dwarves rushed them with joined battle cries.

Both men dispatched them one by one, cutting and slicing through them with ease. Then the armored qunari brought up his hammer, stomping with a roar muffled by his helmet. He brought down the heavy weapon. They dodged in opposite directions. Rocks and dust erupted from the ground as it crashed, leaving a hole.

Alistair moved in and stabbed at his side. The sword's tip screeched over his plates, doing nothing to the brute. And then the hammer came back in a wide arch, missing his head by a hair. Grunting in frustration, Alistair swung at his helmet with all his might, but it only slightly staggered him. The qunari swung his weapon again, hitting the ground once more.

Damn it… Have to improvise! He tossed his sword up and flipped it to hold it by the blade. Alistair stood his ground and waited for him to lift the hammer once more. He sidestepped, avoiding the hit and striking the giant's helmet with the pommel of his blade. The qunari stumbled, dazed. And then Alistair took the chance.

He switched the blade back, holding the hilt. Then thrust, aiming between the plates and penetrating his shoulder. The qunari let out a deep cry and swung with a fist, striking him in the stomach. Alistair's breath left him, the grip on his sword faltering. Then a fist punched him across the face, causing him to finally let go of his weapon before hitting the floor.

Zevran ran up as the qunari pulled the offending object from his shoulder, tossing it aside. Moving on quick feet, the elf nimbly dodged his next punch and rolled behind him. He attempted to climb onto his back, but the qunari grabbed him, then threw him off as if he were nothing but a pest.

"You... overgrown bastard..." Alistair muttered while rising, tasting blood as the new bruise on his cheek throbbed. He took an unsteady step and picked his sword up, angry eyes set on the injured berserker. "Come and get me!"

A loud roar erupted from the qunari as he brought up his hammer one-handed, charging at him in a blind rage. Alistair dodged, let the heavy weapon fall inches from him, then rammed his shield against the man's head. The resounding slam stunned him, causing him to stumble in a daze once more.

The Warden wasted no time. With a cry of his own, he swung in an arch. The point of his blade sliced open his thick neck and red sprayed from his severed jugular in a gruesome fountain of blood as the hammer dropped. It cracked the ground as the heavy body fell face down, more red pooling beneath his head.

Zevran walked up to Alistair, gazing at the corpse. "See…? That wasn't so bad, now was it?"

Adrenaline still pumping, Alistair glanced at the elf, wiping his face with the back of the hand. "For you, maybe..."

The smaller door in the room then burst open, drawing their attention away from the body. "Thank the Maker!" Everil exclaimed upon seeing them, jogging over to them. Morrigan sauntered after her. "I'm so glad to see you two in one piece!"

"We could say the same thing..." A relieved smile spread over Alistair's face as she approached them. "Are you both all right?"

"We're fine." She frowned, touching his bruised cheek. "What happened to your face?"

"This guy happened," he muttered, gesturing to the dead qunari with his sword. "And I don't know about you, but I'm about ready to get out of here."

"In that, we can finally agree…" Morrigan added, standing beside the female Warden.

Everil nodded and gazed at the towering door ahead. It looked to be secure enough to protect something of value. Or rather, someone. "All right. That looks like the end of the line."

"I say we pay Jarvia our respect," Zevran offered, a wide snicker on his handsome face. "If not for your Lord Harrowmont, then for all the fun she so kindly put us through."

Alistair smirked. "Heh, I second that. We wouldn't want to be rude guests, now, would we?"

"Right." Everil led the way once more.

They pushed the steel open, and when they entered an expected sight greeted them. A group of Carta members gathered inside a wide chamber. They set it up as a study, with a desk at the center and several tables with boxes at the sides.

The thugs stood behind a dwarven woman clad in hard, brown leathers and with short, chestnut hair. She was smirking fearlessly at them, arms folded over her chest. "Well, well… Look at what the cat dragged in from the surface. A bunch of meddling rats."

"I take it you are Jarvia." Everil stepped closer, giving the woman a cool look.

"That's right." Her smirk widened. "Heard the female Warden's the leader. You're a pretty one, despite that nasty scar. Maybe I should make an example out of you and add some more stripes to that doll face of yours."

Amused, Everil let out a chuckle, a sarcastic grin curling her lips. "We left a trail of corpses on our way here, so now you're all that is left of your men. And yet, despite your terrible odds, you have the nerve to threaten me. I see you're not only despicable, but you're stupid too."

The woman's eyes narrowed, her sinister smile faltering. "I'll make you pay for every one of their deaths…" She swung an arm forth. "Teach them a lesson, boys!"

The thugs spread out, charging at full speed.

They picked their targets, each engaging individual enemies. Morrigan stayed behind, casting her spells upon the stragglers. The rogues were fast, but rusty in skill as they cut them down.

Everil sliced through one's neck, then advanced towards Jarvia, who was arming herself as she came. The Warden's blades connected with her dual daggers, making Jarvia clench her jaw. Everil stared her down, unfazed by her heated glare.

With a roar, Jarvia parried her sword and struck sideways. Everil deflected, then kicked at her feet. But the dwarf backflipped, evading the hit while shooting out several smaller daggers. Everil swung Elethea, knocking some off the air and avoiding others. She kicked into motion without pause.

Jarvia let out a frustrated growl at her speed. She was flowing like the wind with each attack, giving her no chance to deliver a hit. "Die, damn you!" she snapped while blocking another strike, then lunged with her second dagger. Everil flipped her dagger and struck at her opponent's with the pommel as it came. The impact knocked Jarvia's arm back, sending her weapon flying from her grasp.

Shock befell the rogue as the Warden's sword buried itself in her ribs, piercing through a lung. She choked up blood. "What…?"

"You should have left those merchants alone…" Everil withdrew her blade, letting her fall on her knees and onto her chest.

Jarvia coughed and wheezed, staring at the bodies of her clan as life drifted away from her. Damn these surfacers. Damn these strangers whose meddling doomed her entire operation. And damn that Harrowmont for unleashing them upon her.

"We're done here…" the Warden said to her party, sheathing her weapons. "Let's go report back to Harrowmont."