Chapter 43: The Other Paragon
Alim listened as Caridin told his tale about the Anvil of the Void and how it came to be here. How the smith had created the Anvil. How he had needed the lives of others to make his golems live.
No smith however skilled could create life, he had said, to make my golems live, I had to take the lives from elsewhere.
He spoke of the brave volunteers, the soldiers who chose to give up their mortality to save their homeland.
Alim understood why Caridin had done what he had done. The dwarves had been losing to the darkspawn, badly. Their entire race had faced extinction at the worse and the loss of their homeland at the best. The Blight likely would have ended their entire civilization. In the face of that, would any sacrifice be too extreme?
He understood, but that did not mean he had to like it.
He did not agree with sacrificing people to create the golems. The whole thing stank of blood magic or pretty close to it. Shale, or Shayle as she had been known, was certainly brave submitting to such a fate.
Of course, what happened next seemed to prove Alim's concerns were valid.
The events did not surprise the warden much. He had spent enough time in Orzammar to know how things ran in the city. Things had not changed much in the centuries since Caradin had been turned into a golem and had sealed this place.
It did not surprise him in the least that the king back then had turned greedy. That he had decided to use the Anvil as a means to empty his city of enemies and undesirables. Political enemies, casteless, criminals, and anyone else the king had considered a threat had been given to the Anvil. The lure of stone and steel soldiers had certain appeal, and with the control rods.
Caridin had tried to stop him, and ended up becoming a golem himself.
Alim snorted, so much for the dwarves' veneration of paragons.
Such esteem was nothing compared to the power of the Anvil.
It was an evil dream given form, an item that could be used to make the perfect race of slaves.
The very thought made him ill. What if the chantry had had the anvil when the Dales had fell?
Would there be any elves alive today, or would the chantry have built an army of golems?
He did not like to think about the answer.
This was wrong. Everything he had learned from Irving screamed that this was wrong. It was too much, too much power for anyone to wield wisely. It was far too easy to say just one more person. He is a thief, he will be forged into a golem, he doesn't matter, or this man was murderer, he will be a golem too, he doesn't matter.
Once you started making those kinds of judgments, it was only a matter of time until you said:
This man disagrees with me, he will be forged into a golem, his life doesn't matter.
This was why Caridin had sealed the damn thing away. The temptation that it offered…
It was almost too good to pass up.
Also, the very act of stealing those lives had changed the very essence of the anvil. The magic in Alim's blood burned around the foul thing.
It was no longer a simple tool. It had become corrupted; it's very presence whispered to someone's bases desires for power and glory.
It called to Alim.
The anvil would allow them to end the blight more quickly…
…but at what cost?
He could see the conflict going on in the eyes of his companions. Oghren clearly did not like where this conversation was going. He wanted to turn the Anvil over to Branka. He wanted his wife back, but was there anything left of the Branka he knew?
Alim had his doubts.
Sten was unreadable, but if what Alim had heard about the Tevinters were true, he suspected that the Qunari had faced golems before. What did he think of all this?
Did he agree with what had been done here, or did he think it was wrong.
It was impossible to tell.
Shale appeared…almost in awe of Caridin. She seemed unaffected by the anvil's call; Caridin's answers intrigued her more. How long had the golem wondered about whom it had been and where it had come from? Where she had come from? Now, in this dark place, she had finally found her answers. Caridin said that she had fought at his side when they secured this place long ago. That he had sent her away out of respect and pity.
She was grateful for the answers he had provided her, but it was clear that she did not yet know what to make of all this.
It would take time, the elf suspected, but eventually, Shale would come to terms with the fact that she had once been a mortal woman…
…Or she would throw herself off a cliff, whatever came first.
Leliana seemed conflicted. She regarded the Anvil with a mix of disdain and hunger. She could see the value of keeping the Anvil, or perhaps bringing it back to Orzammar, but her conscience and the fear of her vision gave her pause.
Alim shivered. Leliana was one of the most pious people he knew, but in a good way. She did not seek to force her views on others like many in the chantry. She was likely the first sister that he had come to respect in years.
If the anvil could tempt her…what would it do to Harrowmont or Bhelen?
Caridin had said that once the King in his time had realized the true power of the anvil, a river of blood had flown out of this place.
Perhaps that was the warning of her vision, perhaps the Anvil of the Void was destined to be abused again.
Only Sereda remained unreadable, she had learned how to hide her emotions, at least until it was the right time.
That time…was now.
IOI
The former princess stepped forward. She drew on that one only learned growing up a dwarven noble.
She addressed Caridin as she might have spoken to the Assembly.
"Great paragon," she began, "I am Sereda, formerly of House Aeducan, and I understand your reasons for sealing the Anvil away all this time, but now is not the time to be timid. The situation has changed. A Blight has begun; we have seen the Archdemon with our own eyes. I implore you; give us the Anvil, so that we may better protect the world."
The massive golem turned to her.
"Tell me Sereda of House Aeducan," he sighed, "Has Orzammar so changed that the city would use this infernal invention of mine wisely. Would they ask for willing volunteers or would they the Anvil's gifts upon others? Can you guarantee that the world will be kept safe from the Anvil, even as it protects all of Orzammar?"
She ignored the question.
"Paragon, our home…it is dying. Every year the darkspawn grow stronger while the dwarves weaken. The Anvil could…"
"Could what Sereda?" Alim asked, "Buy your people time? Help you end your exile? Would you offer the Anvil to Harrowmont, or perhaps your brother?"
The dwarf glared at the elf.
"My people need this warden." She growled.
Alim crossed his arms.
"Let's say you take the Anvil back to Orzammar, what then? Would you offer it in exchange for the return of your name?"
"A fitting reward don't you think?"
"Oh you would be rewarded Sereda," Alim sniffed, "You would likely be the first person to be lain on the Anvil. You would be the first new golem in generations."
Her eyes widened.
"They wouldn't dare,' she gasped.
"The new king would not risk your status as a hero," Alim shrugged, "And if you used the Anvil to try and seize power for yourself then your enemies would fall on you, and try to take the Anvil for themselves. It would cause a greater civil war than the one that is looming now."
"NO!" Sereda hissed, "That would not happen…we…my people. We need the Anvil! It is my people's legacy."
"I will not permit the Anvil to leave this place!" Caridin boomed, "I kept it here until someone came that would aid me in destroying it!"
"NO! THE ANVIL IS MINE!" Branka stormed into the chamber, her hungry gaze fell on the item that she had sacrificed her house for.
"No one will take it from me!"
Alim glared at Branka. He had not forgotten the ocean of corpses that had led up to this place. Branka had already shown that she cared nothing for the lives of others.
Could he in good conscience let her take such a power thing?
"Stranger please," Caridin begged, "Do not let the Anvil fall into unthinking hands again!"
"Warden," Sereda purred, "My people…we…"
"Look at her Seri," he said pointing at Branka, his elven ears lowering in anger. "Look at what that foul thing has done to her! Would you see all of Orzammar infected with its presence? How many lives would you be willing to sacrifice? Would you see Orzammar survive as a city only to lose its soul, its people? What would Orzammar be if it was populated by golems?"
"That would not happen," Sereda whispered, "We…wouldn't…couldn't…"
He saw the realization in her eyes. In its desperation, Orzammar would likely destroy itself over the Anvil.
Sereda may have been a noble, but she loved Orzammar. Even her ambition had been to serve it. She had killed Trian because she believed that he would have been a bad king.
Could she unleash the Anvil of the Void on her homeland?
She shivered and stepped back.
Her people were smart and brave.
They would find another way.
"Do what you wish warden," she murmured, "I…I will support you."
He nodded in thanks.
He looked at the Anvil. What to do? He still needed a paragon's support, but Branka was…
He had an idea. It was a longshot, but…
The warden mage smiled.
"You were a paragon Caridin," he said, "Would you be willing to offer your support for the new king? Not the Anvil, just your blessing."
Branka's eyes widened in horror, she could see her desires slipping away.
"Don't listen to him," she spat, "He has been trapped here for a thousand years, stewing in his own madness! Give me the Anvil, and I will forge you an army the likes of which the world has never seen!"
Oghren had heard enough.
"BRANKA YOU MAD BLEEDING NUG-TAIL, CAN"T YOU SEE WHAT THAT THING HAS COST YOU! CAN'T YOU SEE WHAT YOU HAVE LOST TO GET IT?!"
"Look around," she whispered hungrily, "Is this, what our empire should turn into, a crumbling tunnel filled with darkspawn filth, the Anvil will allow us to reclaim our glory!"
"Warden," Oghren grumbled, "Just give her the blasted thing! She is angry, confused, maybe if she had it…"
He was about to answer, when Leliana beat him to the punch.
He held his tongue.
IOI
Leliana understood what it meant to love someone, to want them to be more than what they were.
She knew what it was like to feel them dash your heart against the rocks.
She had once stood where Oghren stood now. Dorothea had been there to help her.
It hurts the most knowing the one you love has been untrue.
Leliana knew what that felt like, and she knew that the truth, however painful, sometimes had to be said.
"She would what Oghren?" Leliana said coldly, hate burned in the sister's eyes. She had seen the length that Branka was prepared to go to achieve her ends. She would murder all of Orzammar to gain control of that Anvil.
She was self-serving, cruel…
Just like Marjolaine was.
"You saw the bodies out there, people you knew," the bard continued, "Are their death's so meaningless? She threw them all away, just as she threw you away. Would you see her rewarded for that?"
Oghren fell silent.
IOI
Alim was impressed.
She had taken the words right out of his mouth.
"Would you aid me stranger?" Caridin asked the elf. "Will you end the threat of my invention?"
He looked at Branka and again at the Anvil. He could not allow her to gain control of it. The damage she would do to the dwarves.
It would be worse than an Archdemon.
"I will aid you Caridin," he promised, "For your support of the next king."
"NOOO!" Branka howled like a maddened animal, "You will not take it while I still live!"
"The Anvil will be destroyed Branka," the elf said finally. He drew spellbinder from its sheath. Leliana was at his side her bow ready.
"So it fights with Caridin then?" Shale brightened, "Good that seems right."
Branka spat.
"You think this is over," she giggled madly, "You are not the only master smith here Caridin." She raised a small crystal rod from her pouch.
"A control rod," Caridin shouted.
Branka grinned evilly.
"Golems obey me! Attack!" she shouted.
The golem's surrounding Caridin rumbled to life, some of them anyway. Others resisted but could do nothing to help their allies.
The power of the rod was too strong.
The battle began.
IOI
Alim froze one that gave Shale the chance to smash it. Branka had managed to paralyze Caridin somehow, leaving the golems and his allies to battle Branka.
The mad woman attacked him.
She may not have been trained as a warrior, but surviving down here for two years had certainly sharpened her skills.
It was all Alim could do to keep up with her.
"THE ANVIL IS MINE! DO YOU HEAR? MINE!"
She continued to rant as they battled, he tried to sweep her legs with his staff, only to have her leap over it and continue the attack.
She was trying to drive him into the lava below.
Bandit lunged at her. The Mabari seeking to rip out her throat, a golem attacked, sending the dog flying with a yelp.
Alim's eyes narrowed in fury.
"BITCH!" he snarled. He caught the golem in a crushing prison, as it broke up; he directed the stones to fly at Branka. Her armor protected her for the most part, but it was badly dented and blood flowed from her mouth and small cuts on her face. Her shield was knocked away.
That did not stop her. She dodged through the stones and continued to push him back.
The elf looked for aid, but his allies were all tied up trying to deal with Branka's enslaved golems.
The mad paragon grinned.
"I cannot be defeated," she giggled, "I am a paragon, a living ancestor! You are no match for me!"
"I am."
Both looked behind them. Sereda stood firmly, her sword and shield in hand. She kicked Branka's shield to her.
"Help the others warden," Sereda told him, "I have this."
Alim backed away. The girl had blood in her eyes. He was not about to dispute her.
Branka grinned hungrily.
"I have the Ancestor's favor girl," she laughed, "You cannot fight me!"
"I'm an exile," she shrugged, "My name erased from the memories. I stand outside the Ancestor's gaze, and even if I didn't, I would still kill you for what you did to your house."
The two women circled.
"I will not be denied," Branka hissed.
"Shut up and fight," Sereda purred.
The battle was fast, but it was over quick. Sereda had been training since she was five to be a warrior. Branka was a skilled amateur but an amateur none the less.
Sereda knocked the shield from Branka's hand, but was not satisfied. She cut off her sword hand but was not satisfied. She severed her shield arm, but was not satisfied.
Branka sank to her knees; she spat blood at the girl.
"I…I am a paragon," she wheezed, "an Ancestor!"
Sereda cut off her head. The body flopped to the ground.
"Then go to them," she hissed, "and see if they will have you."
IOI
The battle ended.
Alim and the others tended to their wounds. The elf worked to heal his loyal hound, while Leliana tended to Sereda and Sten.
Oghren looked down at Branka's corpse sadly. For years he had waited for their reunion.
He had never wanted it like this.
Caridin was true to his word. The golem-smith forged a crown bearing the seal of his house. He offered it to Alim, to give to the king of his choosing.
Once that was done, Alim destroyed the Anvil. Lightning struck it from his fingers heating the metal until it was molten.
Then he froze it, it shattered to pieces.
Echoes of the souls that passed through it escaped after millennia, they vanished into the ether, free at last.
Leliana gave the elf an approving smile.
He blushed slightly.
IOI
Only one thing remained for Caridin.
He had lived to see the anvil destroyed, now that it was. He had no place anymore.
Shale stood beside him, shocked at his choice.
We all must have an end Shayle of House Kadash, he said, May you find yours at the time of your choosing.
Wishing his allies well, Caradin stood on the ledge, overlooking the river of lava below.
He fell forward, letting it take him.
Finally going to his final rest, the paragon returned home.
IOI
Alim looked at the others. They all seemed tired and weary, but they had succeeded in their mission, after a fashion.
He debated bringing Branka's body back to Orzammar, but decided against it. They would only venerate her in death.
Let her lay here, with the people she had betrayed. May they take their justice on her in the fade, or wherever the souls of dwarves go.
Alim looked back at the dark passage from whence they came. It would be a long journey back to Orzammar, but they could do it. They would do it.
They had a king to crown, and a treaty to fulfill.
Then they would leave this place.
Alim smiled slightly.
It would be good to see the sun again.