CHAPTER 23

..x..

The stories told of the darkspawn over the centuries paled in comparison to what Everil had witnessed since the Grey Wardens recruited her. Tales of how they raided villages in the night, dragging women and children back into the earth, never to be seen again. How they would ambush unsuspecting travelers, disembowel and devour them until there was nothing left but bloodstains on the dirt. It all was nothing but near fantasy until she lived it. And as they trekked through another dark, foul-smelling corridor in the Dead Trenches, she could now say that those stories felt more real now than ever.

Hespith's words lingered in her brain, tormenting her. If such fate awaited any woman captured by these monsters, then she didn't want to imagine how many poor souls suffered through such torture. Through such pain. Only to be forgotten and mourned as if dead, when in reality they'd been turned into the very monsters they feared.

She gazed toward Oghren, who was walking just a few steps ahead of them. He'd taken the lead through the only open path after they defeated the broodmother. He had said nothing since they left the breeding chamber... but he didn't have to say a word at all. They all knew that if what Hespith said was true, then Branka had done something terrible.

After an hour of walking, pillars made of quartz emerged, covered in more dwarven lore that spoke of the fortress' past. There was an opening at the end of the hallway, lit up by a yellow light. "This place looks familiar," Shale commented, observing their surroundings.

A distant laugh made them pause, the sound of a battle reaching their ears.

"There are darkspawn ahead..." Alistair said.

Everil sent him a puzzled glance. "But who's fighting them?"

There was another laugh, much clearer this time.

"That's…" Oghren took a step, surprise dawning on him. And he ran, following the sound while the Wardens and the others went after him.

They stepped out of the cave and into another enormous chamber, finding several darkspawn lying dead on the ground. Dwarven warriors were beside them, appearing to have died recently at the hands of the same monsters while small fires burned beside their bodies. The group then turned their heads toward another bout of laughter, puzzlement etched over their faces.

A dwarven woman clad in steel plate armor and wielding a greatsword stood behind a barricade and on higher ground, blood staining her short brown hair.

"Branka…" Oghren breathed out.

Everil narrowed her eyes, more angry than glad to have finally found the Paragon.

"Oghren… Did you come to help me find the Anvil?" Branka asked with a wicked smile. "I'm so close I can smell it!"

"What in the Ancestors' names have you done, woman!" Oghren looked upon the dead dwarves, some who he recognized. "You… Your whole House is dead!"

"They knew what they were getting themselves into. Each of their lives was spent on a worthy cause." She folded her arms and lifted her nose, unashamed. "When I find the Anvil I will bring forth another golden era for Orzammar. We will be more powerful than ever! We could even take back what we lost to the darkspawn!"

"You fool..."

Branka turned her gaze towards Everil, her smile faltering at the frosty look the Warden was giving her.

"You saw their numbers. There's nothing you can do to defeat the darkspawn, and you know it," Everil uttered angrily, her hands closed into tight fists. "But instead of saving those who followed you from certain death, you chose to use them as stepping stones to make it this far. And they did as you wished, blindly throwing their lives away… because they worshipped you."

"I take it you ran into Hespith." Branka's smile faded as a saddened expression crossed her face. But a hard, unyielding stare swiftly replaced it. "She wanted to pull out. She wanted me to quit—to the point where some were plotting mutiny! So I did what I had to do." She glared at her, her face twisting into a sneer. "And who in the Ancestors' names are you? A Grey Warden?"

"That's right. Your king has died, and I was sent by Lord Harrowmont to look for you to help him become the next king of Orzammar," Everil replied coolly. "But I must say that I regret wasting my time like this…"

Branka laughed. "They could put a monkey on the throne for all I care! My only concern is the Anvil. So yes, you did waste your time, Warden. I won't be leaving here until I find it!" She then turned her back to them, making her way up the trail she'd been standing on.

"Branka!" Oghren called after her but went ignored as he watched her disappear into a passage above. "That stupid woman!" He punched the nearest metal barricade, gritting his teeth.

Everil's expression softened upon seeing his pain. "Was she always like this?"

He took in a breath. "Yeah… She was passionate to the point of obsession. Always spending her days working to achieve the perfect creation. But that's what made her the best blacksmith… That's what made her a Paragon." He huffed and craned his head to look up at her. "As a Paragon, she has to make tough choices when it's necessary. I'm sure you of all people can understand that."

"Sacrificing your men like this is inexcusable. There is always another way," Everil countered sternly, then strode in the direction of the only other cave in the chamber. "Come on, let's follow her."

Oghren cast her a puzzled stare. "You want to keep risking your skin, even after all this?"

She paused. "Do you still want to save her?"

"Yeah…" His eyes fell to the dirt. "I do..."

"Then our only choice is to help her find the Anvil and drag her out of here along with it." She continued on, the rest of her companions trekking behind her as Oghren stared in bewilderment at her retreating back.

He didn't know these people all that well, but he was beginning to understand why she was the one leading them. The Grey Wardens had bigger problems than helping a bunch of ill-tempered people choose their new king, but despite feeling strongly about what Branka had done, she was still willing to help. Perhaps they truly needed the dwarven forces against the Blight, but even then they could have simply returned to Orzammar without the Paragon, told the Assembly she had perished, and found another way.

When they neared the cave, more darkspawn crawled out of it, charging on while they quickly defeated them. Everil pushed through them, cutting down any in her path and advancing towards the next room. Soon they found themselves inside another building and surrounded by more ancient walls with dwarven symbols carved on them. Statues stood at each side like sentinels, looking onto the passage with frigid stares.

They crossed to a door on the other side and Everil reached out to it, finding it locked. As she did, a strange gas erupted from the ground, the path they came from also sliding shut and leaving them trapped within. Movement behind them had them whirl around to see the statues come to life, their glowing blue eyes gazing their way.

"Golems…?" Shale uttered in disbelief.

"Stall them while I shut down the gas!" Everil shouted as she ran to the valves they'd seen at each side of the room, dodging a punch. Shale punched it, drawing its attention away from the Warden while she stormed towards the nearest mechanism.

Everil turned the valve until it let out a click, shutting down one of the gas pipes. She moved on to the next as her companions kept the golems busy, dodging their hits while the stone men broke through columns and made craters on the floor. One hit could kill any of them, but Shale kept them at bay, punching aside their fists, striking them in the chest, or knocking them down.

By the time Everil closed the last gas pipe, the golems lay motionless, the poison settling as they returned to the door. It was now unlocked, so she opened it and stepped through, closing it behind them. When they crossed into the next room, more golems turned to face them. One that was much bigger than the rest stood past them, towering over them, almost twice Shale's size.

Branka was facing it, a shining rod held in her hand. "I have conquered all you have thrown at me!" she cried out at the giant. "And now I have conquered you! Hand over the Anvil of the Void!"

The golem rose tall, lifting its chin as it stared her down like a man stares down a flea. "You seek my invention while ignorant of the price. I shall not allow it."

"That's… Caridin?" Oghren took a step, his eyes wide in awe.

"We can benefit from the Anvil. We can become as strong as we were in ancient times!" Branka insisted stubbornly, meeting his glare.

Caridin's attention then shifted to the new arrivals, his eyes glowing brightly. "You. You must help me. The Anvil must not leave this place. It will only bring ruin to those who use it."

"What do you mean?" Everil's brow furrowed inquisitively at his words. "Why would it bring ruin to the dwarves?"

"We were in desperate need of a solution against the darkspawn during the First Blight... when my people sought my help. I created the Anvil and used it to build our army of golems—my children. The creation process was a mystery to the dwarven peoples. To all except for my king." Caridin shook his head, his booming voice filled with regret. "The truth is that… To bring life into something that has none, one must sacrifice another's mortal form. I made hundreds of golems… Using the lives of brave dwarves who volunteered to fight against the darkspawn and imprisoning their souls inside the bodies of stone you see before you."

"What…?" Everil whispered in disbelief, her eyes shifting to Shale, who held a similar expression.

"That's right... I-I was once a dwarf… One who gave up everything to fight for her people," Shale uttered with a troubled tone as if suddenly overwhelmed by the revelation. "The memories are coming back to me now…"

Caridin continued, staring at the ground as if ashamed. "But no matter how many I sacrificed, it was never enough. The darkspawn were still advancing, and our king was growing impatient. Soon, a river of blood was all that flowed through these very chasms… The blood of my brothers and sisters." He gazed up at Everil once more. "Burdened by it all... I swore never to forge another golem. My king didn't take kindly to my refusal to build more soldiers of stone, so he had my apprentices turn me into one… Only they were not experienced enough to fashion a control rod for me."

"What remains of my children and I have stayed here ever since, hoping no one would find us, some of us shackled by the rod she now wields. Now you know why I cannot allow anyone to take the Anvil… Whatever it is those who seek it need, it is not worth the price. Not now, not ever."

"The ramblings of an old fool."

They turned their gaze towards Branka.

"If you will not give it to me willingly, then I will take the Anvil by force." She smirked, drawing her sword while raising the rod.

"Stop it!" Everil stalked towards her, standing between her and the golems. "You heard what he said. This is not a game, Branka!"

"And who said it was, Warden?" Branka's stare darkened at her intrusion. "I want to make the ultimate creation! To give Orzammar its mighty weapons once more!"

"That will only cause your kin more pain and suffering!" Everil snapped, sky blue eyes piercing the dwarf's dark brown ones. "Just think! You can still help Orzammar in a different way. The dwarves are already as strong and resilient as the rock itself. They don't need the Anvil to regain some past glory that is now long gone. All they need is each other and to continue building anew!"

A stunned Oghren listened to her words as they filled him with an odd sense of pride. She was right. Even after all the death since the First Blight, the dwarves have endured. By working together against their enemies, they were still strong. Formidable enough for the Grey Wardens to risk it all to seek their help in a war they couldn't win alone.

In a flash, Branka pointed her sword at her throat. But Everil stood her ground, unflinching.

"How cute of you to think I give a damn about what you say." Branka's psychotic gaze intensified as she spoke, her tone dripping with poison. "Neither you nor your pretty words will stop me. Now, get out of my way, Warden. Unless you want my slaves to pummel you into dust."

"For Ancestor's sake... Just let her have the damn thing," Oghren stepped in, his shoulders tense and conflict in his eyes.

"No." Everil unsheathed her blade. "No more dwarves will be sacrificed."

"Kill them!" Branka shouted, the rod glowing blue and imposing its will upon the golems around them. She strapped it to her back and gripped her greatsword two-handed.

A golem was already coming towards its new master, seeking to protect her from the Grey Warden. With a roar, Shale stopped it, punching its face and driving it away as Everil went for Branka, locking swords with her. The Paragon parried it to the side and struck, while Everil deflected it, then slashed high. Branka rolled with a huff, then cried out, rising to her feet and charging at her like a mad bull. Their blades connected in resounding claps of thunder as both women struggled for the control rod and the Anvil's fate.

From the sidelines, Oghren hesitated, gritting his teeth. The one he once loved and respected had evidently lost her mind, becoming a danger to them and to everyone in Orzammar. And considering what he'd seen so far, there was no doubt the Wardens would put a stop to her—at any cost.

"Branka give up!" he shouted, while the others around him battled the golems. "These people can kill you!"

"They can try!" Branka screamed as she repelled the Warden's sword, then slashed at her chest. Everil ducked and spun about, delivering a solid kick to her stomach and sending her to the ground.

She hopped onto her, swinging downward. The dwarf blocked. "Give me the rod!" she yelled.

"You little bitch…" Branka bit out, baring her teeth. "You think you can defeat a Paragon that easily!" She kicked at her leg, bringing her to a knee while forcing her weapon aside. Branka struck then, tackling her to the ground and grabbing her by the throat. Her sword came up, aimed at her head. Everil's fist connected with her jaw, causing the blade to graze her cheek instead.

Her knee collided with the dwarf's back, breaking her resistance. And then she was the one on top, pinning Branka's wrist while she also gripped hers. "Give up, damn it!" Everil snapped angrily, clenching her jaw. "I don't want to kill you!"

"I'm never giving up! Never!"

"Warden!" Oghren shouted as he drew his axe.

The shadow of another golem loomed over them and Everil looked over her shoulder to see it draw its arm. She clicked her tongue and swiftly rolled out of the way, dodging its massive fist as it swooshed over her. The golem then struck down, trying to squish her, forcing her to hop back as its punch cracked the floor.

With a deep growl, Caridin grabbed the golem from behind, holding it back and keeping it from attacking her. "Hurry Warden! Take the rod away from her!"

Running in to help, Oghren swung at Branka, who blocked easily with her sword. "You should join me Oghren. Together we could bring forth a new era for the dwarves," she muttered through clenched teeth, her arms shaking under the stalemate.

"No…" A mixture of anger and anguish filled his voice. "This isn't right, Branka! Just stop and use your damn head for a minute!"

"You disappoint me..." She glowered at him, shoved his weapon, and struck at his chest, leaving a gash over his armor and making him stumble onto a knee. His face paled as Branka let out a cry, preparing for another attack. And Oghren could only watch, shocked into place, as the one who'd once been his wife sought to bring death upon him.

But death never came.

She jerked forward and froze, horror painting her features before a sword's blade burst out from her chest. A cough rocked her body, blood spouting from her mouth before more crimson trickled from the corners of her lips. Oghren's eyes trailed up to see Everil standing behind her, the Warden's glare filled with both anger and regret. She yanked her sword from the Paragon's back and Branka dropped to her knees, a trembling hand over the gushing wound. "S-Sodded…" Struggling to breathe, she fell face down.

Everil bent over, taking the rod from her. Ans she thrust it up to the skies, the shimmering light exploding above her and commanding the golems to stop their assault.

Bjorn barked at a golem that had its fist up, only to lower it and face that shining light. Meanwhile, Wynne and a panting Alistair gazed nervously at the two golems that had been swinging at them, the Warden having tried to protect her from the towering rocks. The stone warriors halted, then shifted their attention away from them and to their beacon.

"Thank the Maker," Wynne gasped with relief.

"H-How…?" Branka croaked.

Everil gazed down at her, a subtle frown creasing her brow. "You didn't give me a choice..."

"Curse you…" she wheezed. "It'll be… because of you… that my people will continue to live with the darkspawn… as a constant threat…"

"The dwarves need not resort to sacrificing their brethren to fight back," Everil uttered solemnly.

"And you… You call yourself... a Grey Warden?" Branka coughed out a sardonic laugh. "Someone like you... A self-righteous… coward... unwilling to do whatever it takes to defeat your enemies… You… You don't deserve that title…" One last breath escaped her lips as her heart stopped, her pupils dilating as the void claimed her.

A brief silence followed and the Warden turned away from her corpse. The Paragon had once been a hero and an icon to the dwarves, brave and committed to a fault. She may have been wrong in her ways, but her ambition had never been out of greed, but for her people. And she hadn't been able to save her from herself.

"Branka…" Oghren knelt before her, resting a hand on her head as her lifeless gaze stared back at him.

"I'm sorry, Oghren…" Everil whispered, tightly gripping her bloodied blade.

He glanced up at her and then averted his eyes. "Me too…"

Alistair watched her with concern from where he stood by one of the golems. He could tell she'd been trying to help Oghren and the rest of the dwarves. That coming here wasn't just about getting the Paragon at Harrowmont's request. They were to bring a hero home. Instead, she'd died by their hand.

Everil strode towards Caridin, who waited for her by the Anvil. She stared up at the ancient Paragon, stopping mere steps from him. "The Anvil must be destroyed. As a golem, I cannot act against it. But you can," he said, offering his mighty hammer. "Please end this."

She paused for a moment, then spoke in an unwavering tone. "Before I destroy the Anvil, I need you to help me with my quest."

His stone eyebrows rose. "A favor for a favor, I see... What is it you seek?"

"Orzammar has no king at the moment. Two candidates seek the crown. I need a Paragon's help to elect the next king."

"I understand... I will use the Anvil one last time to smith a crown for the candidate of your choice," he answered and shook his head. "I need not know his name. My time here has come and gone. However, whoever he is, should consider himself privileged… for he will wear my very last creation upon his brow."

Pulling an ingot from the furnace, Caridin went to his Anvil. Hammer met steel as sparks of hot metal exploded with each strike, the piece slowly taking shape. Oghren quietly observed the Paragon work from afar, his heart heavy in his chest. He didn't know if he should feel angry or grateful, but the conflicting emotions only added to his frustration and grief. He had lost Branka all over again, and there was nothing he could've done to stop it.

"Those in Orzammar will remember her for who she was." Alistair's voice reached him as the Warden approached him, coming to stand beside him.

"You may be right... provided they don't find out what happened here," Oghren grumbled tiredly, producing a flask of liquor from his bag. He took a swig, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Guess your fellow Warden made the right decision..."

"Not lightly..." Alistair's stare shifted to her back.

"I know..."

Once Caridin finished with his work, he returned to the Warden, a shimmering crown between his massive hands. Everil gingerly took it, admiring its rugged design as she held it. "Thank you…"

"I have fulfilled my end of the bargain." He offered her his hammer once again. "Now, please fulfill yours."

She discarded the control rod, letting it clatter to the ground before taking a moment to tie the crown to her belt. Her fingers wrapped around the hammer's hilt, her muscles flexing as she held it. Its weight was as great as the responsibility that came along with it.

Shale stared in silence as the Warden stepped up to the Anvil that had cursed her with an immortal body. A body where she was a prisoner, meant for an eternity of servitude. In a way, this girl was giving them closure and putting an end to the only instrument capable of bringing the same fate to others.

With a grunt, Everil raised the hammer high above her head, then released a cry as she brought it down with all her might. A crack split the Anvil from where the hammer hit, shining a bright blue before the metal shattered, crumbling as if made of glass. The hammer slammed to the ground by her feet as she stared solemnly at the rubble.

"You have my deepest gratitude…" Caridin said to her as he stomped past her, heading for the edge of the cliff before them. "I wish you luck in your quest against the Blight, Grey Warden."

"Thanks…" she whispered in return before he cast himself into the river of molten metal in the depths below. Now freed from the Anvil's power, the other golems followed him, plunging to their deaths. Finally able to rest after centuries of enslavement.

Heavy steps approached her from behind as Shale came to stand beside her.

"You won't join them?" Everil questioned quietly.

"No…" Shale replied, an almost imperceptible smile on her rigid face. "I have found my purpose."

"You have?" She looked up at her. "What is it?"

"Helping… you… defeat the Blight."

Everil let a corner of her lip go up. "Thank you, Shale..."

With their quest fulfilled, the party made their way back through the ruins, dirty and exhausted. Leaving the deep roads behind and carrying the crown that would bring victory to Orzammar's new king.