Chapter 62) City of Stone
Aiden POV
"You know, if there's one thing I think surfacers do right, it's that they acknowledge everyone." I paused in my work and glanced over at the dwarf merchant. I was moving some purchases into my lord's estate. "Ah, sorry, kid, just rambling," he dismissed, waving his hand. "Just… in Orzammar, there's these castes. You know; nobles, smiths, warriors, and the like." I nodded and went back to my moving. "But then you've the casteless." I paused again and looked at him in silent confusion. He pointed to his tattoo. "Casteless don't exist. Undesirable, marked from birth to let all know. And we don't go back to the Stone when we die, supposedly. Criminals, and the children of criminals." He shrugged. "Not sure if it's good or bad, but I think there's something good in being acknowledged. In someone looking you in the eye and saying, 'yes, you're there. You exist.'"
"What brought that on?" I finally asked as I returned to my work.
"A couple of elves are being screamed at for something minor over there." What happened this time? "And I found myself thinking about how I would've given anything, once, to be yelled at like that, if only for the proof I was really here." He sighed. "Easy with that one. It's a lot lighter than it looks."
"All right."
This was… probably the worst case scenario. Even with being prepared for worst case scenarios. Maker, damn all of Orzammar.
"Lord Nuada mentioned the politcs were horrendous, but I think even he would be startled by this," I sighed, shaking my head, my signing delayed slightly as I tried to just think through everything. Orzammar was on lockdown because the king had died and two people were fighting for it. And the only one, in their eyes, who could answer the treaty was a king, and they weren't going to help until there was one. This was just fantastic. "We have been here only a moment and I already hate it here." It was too hot, for one. Heat radiated from the strange red goop churning and pulsing underneath the city like twisted water, and burned the air. Discordant clanging echoed on and on through the streets, and people milled about pointedly avoiding anyone armed, including us. Then there was the whole 'walk in and literally see a person die because of a political debate' thing that happened just twenty heartbeats ago. "I thought the Landsmeet was going to be the most complicated." A wave of heat washed over me. "Okay, what is the red goop?"
"That would be 'lava', molten rock," Wynne answered. She looked fascinated as she looked over the edge of the bridge we were clustered on. "I wonder if there are runes that minimize the heat." This was minimized? Dwarves were the most insane of all the races. "So, what should we do?" She returned her attention to all of us, but we just looked at each other in silent question. What indeed… "If we're going to stand here much longer, we should move. Shale is attracting a lot of attention." For some reason that I couldn't attribute to just 'walking and talking statue'. The stares were far too awed and disbelieving for that. What was the importance of golems? I'd have to find out.
"The way I see it, we're going to have to do here what we're planning in Fereldan," Zevran answered after a moment. He winked at some staring dwarves, who skittered away. I rolled my eyes at the antic and he flashed me a grin. "Pick a ruler and get his help." Except we hadn't talked about picking rulers yet. I think. Maker knows too much was going on for me to remember properly. Besides…
'Right then.' Cleon's signs were sharp, and, combined with a droll look, they were also drier than the air. 'Pick a side,' he challenged. No movement at all, not even a half-formed sign. 'Well? Pick one, based on the bits of gossip we happened to overhear.' Yep, that was the rub. Who in flames do we pick when we knew nothing about either?
"I would say Bhelen." I wasn't surprised Sten voiced his opinion first. "The wastefulness of this society is abhorrent," he continued. Signs strong and firm, just like always. "Everyone has their own role, yes, but to claim that some have no role, no purpose, is ridiculous." I was somehow unsurprised he disliked those bits we heard about 'casteless'. "If the gossip-mongerers are truthful, he will change that."
"But will that be safest for us?" Leliana asked softly. Her signs were softer, more hesitant, and she glanced at the dusty ground as she talked. "Bhelen is… ambitious, powerhungry. And while that isn't unusual for a ruler, would he truly keep his word with us? The gossips say he lied, framed his sibling for kinslaying. Harrowmont seems more likely to keep his word."
"He also seems more easily manipulated," Morrigan added. Her signs were slow, thoughtful if not for her slight smirk. "We might get more out of him."
"And what if he decides that there's no point in breaking isolation?" It took us a couple of moments to figure out who would sign for Shale. Wynne took it, making them sharp to convey Shale's annoyed tone. "Regardless, this is taking too long," it continued, eyes narrowing in what I thought might be a scowl. The slight shift in footing, still loud enough to echo, resembled an annoyed tic, at least. "Pick something and be done with it, so we can go about smashing skulls." Was it sad that I almost thought the words amusing?
Still, I sighed. Okay, needed to think. Orzammar was convoluted. Both Lord Nuada and Lady Elspeth had made that clear before we split up. So, what was the best way to fight convoluted politics? By playing the game. And in order to play the game…
"Sten, Wynne, Morrigan are in one group," I ordered, making my signs crisp. Everyone looked to me. "Shale, Leliana, and Zevran are in another. One will go to Bhelen. The other will go to Harrowmont. You'll earn both their favors, while Cleon and I pretend to be the perfectly neutral Wardens." This way, no matter which side got the throne, we had promises. "Emphasize that you are companions to us, and are willing to speak on their behalf to us for our support. Give and take sort of thing. Be willing to do errands for them too. Stir up the city, make them willing to make more and more promises, promises you will dutifully relay to Cleon and me, and promises we will call on." I blinked slowly as I realized everyone was staring at me in shock. "What? Will it not work?"
"Let's just say, Aiden, that you are not only a sex god, but a crafty one," Zevran replied without missing a beat. I rolled my eyes again, and told myself that my face was flushing from the heat, not from embarrassment. "Do let me know the proper way to worship you?"
"Follow orders." I sighed, shaking my head. "Anyway, unless someone has problems, we're going that way so that no matter what, we win. Period." Cleon and I would just need to kill some time. "Have fun, everyone. Please don't kill anyone unless they attack first. I'd rather not bust anyone out of jail today."
'You want to check out the building behind us?' Cleon asked as the others walked off, separating already to better give the illusion of being 'torn'. Or something. 'Seems like a good place to wait for a while and be able to plead innocent in whatever these guys are doing.'
"Yeah, that sounds good," I agreed, turning to head inside. "You think they have headache medicine?"
'I have some.' He fished something out of his pack and passed it over. 'And other medicines.' Glad one of us was prepared. 'Also, have some water. It is way too freaking hot here.'
"Glad I'm not the only one." I downed the medicine, and water, smiling in thanks. "Do you hear people cheering?"
'Yes?' We stepped inside the building at last, and I sighed in relief at how blessedly cool it was. 'What is this place?'
"Oh, hello!" My attention focused on a dwarf coming to greet us. "Strange to see elves about," he noted. He eyed us closely before nodding. "Must be Wardens."
"Yes, we are," I confirmed, making sure to sign for Cleon. "What is this place, though?"
"This is the Proving Ground." He said it like there was something far more to it than what the words suggested. "Duels of great honor, whose outcomes are determined by the favor of the Ancestors." Was there a library around here I could get some answers about dwarven culture? "We had Warden Commander Duncan here not long ago, for a… sadly tainted Proving." Tainted? And Duncan had been here? "This one is a memorial Proving, held by Prince Bhelen for his father's recent death. I apologize for not being able to hold one in honor of your visit, Wardens. We try to do that whenever Wardens, or other guests come."
"Other guests?"
"Surfacers. King Maric came down here, six years ago now. That was a good Proving, the very best giving their all. His son, Prince Cailan, enjoyed it highly, and eagerly asked me about the rules and meanings behind the provings." I remembered how excited King Cailan had appeared before the fight. I thought of King Cailan's broken body, likely still tossed aside in Ostagar. "Came down with a couple of other youngsters. A pretty girl with blonde hair and sharp eyes named Anora. Kind and proper lady, most polite." Queen Anora, then. "Then there were these three siblings, all with black hair and blue eyes. Fergus, Nuada, and Elspeth." Right, Lord Nuada stated his knowledge came from personally visiting. "Fergus and Cailan got into the spirit of things, cheering as loudly as the rest of us. That Nuada boy had been laughing, but his eyes sharpened at the fight. I wondered if he wanted to join in." Maybe. "Elspeth, though, was stoic. Thought something was wrong with her." The dwarf shook his head with a laugh. "And I'm rambling on and on about nothing. How is Duncan, though?" Ah…. "Doing well, I trust?"
"…Master Duncan passed away in the battle of Ostagar." A dull ache washed through me. "He died so that Cleon and I could get off the field and seek aid." I was startled that it hurt. It hurt that he died before telling us more. It hurt that he died keeping us safe. And it hurt that he died, leaving the fate of Fereldan, and the world, in our hands.
"…I see…" The dwarf closed his eyes. I took the opportunity to glance over at Cleon, who gave me a strained smile. He hurt too. "Stone watch over him, then. He was a good man, if a bit odd." He opened his eyes. "You two are here to try and get Orzammar's help." We nodded. "Which you're having trouble getting because of everything going on." We nodded again. "…You two want to participate in the Proving?" Huh? "Be good for working out frustrations. They're not to the death, though it's an honorable way to go out if it happens." Ahaha… "Wardens, though, are always treated. There are far too few of you." Okay. "And if you do well, you'll remind the people why your Order is the only one to ever understand our plight, and win supporters. After all, this is a Proving. You only do well if the Ancestors favor you." I wasn't sure if anyone was favoring us, much less dead dwarves.
Still, I glanced over at Cleon, and he nodded. "We'd be honored." It would give us something to do. And if it helped, all the better.
'Well, that went well?' Cleon, of all the things you could've signed, did it have to be something so understated? Despite what I thought going in, we won, handily, and had immediately been dragged to bunches and bunches of luncheon… tea… things… with nobles all talking to us. Or, well, walking to me. Cleon quite happily stuffed his face, using his deafness as a means of getting out of being politely social. 'I think that one girl was seriously trying to get into your pants.'
"Cleon, I will hurt you," I grumbled, making sure my signs conveyed just how annoyed I was. Still, the rumors… "Seems like the others are doing a good job capitalizing on the victories, though." There had been three arguments in the market alone. All over which candidate had our favor. And the favor of the Ancestors that had been bestowed on us. "I need quiet, though. Seriously."
'I thought you were doing a good job paying the gallant and humble warrior.' I gave him a dirty look and he flashed a grin before pointing. 'That area is empty.' Almost… unnervingly so. 'Down we go?'
"Why not?" With a shrug, we heading down, right into a cloud of dirt and dust. "Oh, maybe that's why not." I coughed, trying to clear my throat, and my eyes watered as all the dust flew in my face. "What is this place?"
'Dusty old ruins, with people living in them.' And it was a… sharp difference. It was like we were in a completely different city. It was… like the Alienage, but worse. There was no sense of camaraderie, no sense of family. No sense of 'home.' Just a place where the dregs of society were thrown away, and kept hidden from those that visited. 'No offense, Aiden, but I think we found the one place worse than your Alienage.'
"I was thinking the same thing…" Absently, we wandered, glancing around. I gave coin to those I saw. I couldn't not, especially when I saw the tattoos on their face. A merchant I met once told me about how the casteless weren't acknowledged. A bit of coin for food, or even drink… it was more than they had. More than they'd ever have. How did they live? Survive? Elves in the Alienage would often turn to crime. Did they do the same? I couldn't blame them, not one bit.
"Pardon, but do you have coin to spare, my lord?" I froze at the title. No. I wasn't a lord, by any means. "It's for my son." Slowly, I turned to the voice, and crouched down to be on eye level with the thin, exhausted woman, cradling a sleeping child to her chest. Unlike the others, she had no brand on her face. "I'm sorry to bother you, but my son is sick," she whispered. Her hand gently brushed over the baby's face. He protested, but it was weak, far too weak. "If you have any to spare, I'd appreciate it."
"You seem different from the others here," I whispered. I gently took the baby's hand and noticed their grip was also weak. "Are you alone? Did something happen to the baby's father?"
"Ran like a coward, when I bore him a son, and not a daughter who could raise him to the Mining Caste." She sounded bitter, so I didn't bother asking for clarification. But I did get one thing confirmed, I think. She wasn't casteless. "I've not seen him since, so here I am, alone on the streets, forbidden to return to my family unless I…" She shook her head almost violently. I noticed the bruises on her. "I can breastfeed him fine. I'm still healthy enough for that." Barely, I thought. Honestly, studying her now, she looked like she was on death's doorstep. Too thin, too bruised, too sick herself. "But a mother's milk can't fix an illness, especially when dwarves rarely get sick anyway. And I…" Her breath hitched and she started crying. "Sorry, I don't know what to do. Only what I cannot bear to think of."
Cleon's hand fell on my shoulder, and I glanced up at him. His eyes were pained as he signed, 'see what we can do? Please?'
I nodded. Of course we would. "My name is Aiden Tabris," I whispered, using my sleeve to dab the tears off her face. "My friend here is Cleon Mahariel. He's deaf, so please don't be offended at him not talking." Cleon made a point to smile. "What all happened to you?"
"My name is Zerlinda," she murmured. "I was born to the Mining Caste. And I fell in love with a casteless." Okay…? "I think… no, I know he was just using me. A way the casteless can gain recognition is by parenting a child of a higher caste. There's noble hunters all over the place. Bhelen's got one who bore him a son." So, gold digging as a means of surviving. I couldn't blame them. "It's my own fault for being taken in by his lies. If I had a daughter, she would've inherited my caste, but since my child was a boy, he got his father's caste. Casteless." Okay, that made… a little sense… I suppose…? "My family disowned me, and refuse to restore my caste unless I abandon my son to the Deep Roads, pretend I never bore him." Both Cleon and I stiffened at that. No. That just… no. "The Shapers might teach that only children of true lineage exist, but they never carried a child. There is nothing wrong with him. There's nothing wrong with any of the casteless, save what is forced on them!"
"Maybe I can reason with your family." The words fell out before I could stop them, and I honestly had to ask myself if my 'reason' would be with words… or with the giant greatsword I wielded. Still, she stared at me in startled wonder. "Children don't deserve to suffer."
"Thank you…" But her smile was skeptical. "My father, Ordel, is a stiff-necked old man, though. If you're still willing to try, he's normally at Tapster's right about now."
"All right. Cleon will stay and help you where you can." Cleon waved and smiled, crouching down to play with the baby's hands. "He's got some medicine as well, so maybe that'll help." Zerlinda's smile was still skeptical. She was too tired to hope. "I will be back as soon as possible."
And I bolted, out of the dusty town, straight through the crowd. Tapster's she said. Cleon and I had been there just earlier for some victory drink thing after the Proving.
As I glanced around, wondering just where I was going to find Zerlinda's father, I found my attention focusing on a strange dwarf huddled in the corner. Armored, but not armed. Drunker than drunk, but still caught every twitch and movement around him. Nothing wasted in his movements, even though he only reached for more alcohol. Who was…? No, later. I needed to move quickly.
Another quick glance led me to a man who looked a lot like Zerlinda. Taking the chance, I approached him. "Pardon me," I murmured, making myself polite. Politeness was good and key right now. "Are you Ordel?"
"I am," the dwarf murmured. He eyed me warily. "Do you have business with me? I was just about to leave." Luck was on my side then.
Mostly. "I met your daughter." His expression locked up and he tried to slip past me. But I shifted to continue standing in his way, and narrowed my eyes in a clear and silent threat. He was going to stay and talk with me. "Down in Dust Town."
"I have no daughter." I stiffened. Temper… temper… bad things happened when I lost my temper. It was… it was good to hate, according to the Lady of the Forest, but I had to keep my temper. "You must have met a casteless whore who claims she once was."
"I met a young mother who will die trying to keep her son safe." His expression flickered. Worry. Okay, I could do this. "That's what is happening. She's dying."
"You think she would die just to keep that… that thing?" He scoffed, rolling his eyes. I grit my teeth. Temper…! "She knows what she has to do to come back. I never wanted her gone. Just the little-"
"Just her son. Just the son she spent months carrying, going through health crisis after health crisis to bear." Pregnancy was dangerous for human and elven women. I doubted dwarven women faced less dangers. "How can you expect her to just kill him and forget?" Was I glaring? I might be. "What of you? Can you just forget her?"
"…No…" He sighed, shaking his head. "I've been trying. But it's not easy." He hesitated. "Tell her we never meant to hurt her, we just thought it…" He shook his head again, almost violently. "No, just tell her to come home. Her mother and I are waiting."
"And the baby?"
"And the baby." He sighed. "I'll go get things ready."
"…Thank you." I smiled then. "I'll go help her then."
It might be a small thing in the course of things, but I couldn't deny just how nice it felt, to be able to help her.
It took some convincing to get Zerlinda to believe me, but we soon had her bundled up and safe in her home, with the baby being tended to. We stuck around for another meal, because damn if Cleon or I could think of a polite way of saying 'our stomachs are almost bursting', before headed up to the Shaperate, a place where I could get questions answered about dwarven culture. And promptly reunite with Shale and Sten. Because, for some reason, they were here instead of wherever their groups were.
"I take it you two got tired of kissing ass?" I noted dryly. They both gave me slightly confused looks. "Sorry, it's a phrase. Basically, you got tired of pretending to be nice when you really wanted to cleave whoever you were talking to in two."
"I wanted to smash them with a fervor I normally only reserve for the vilest and most evil creatures. Birds." It took everything I had to not burst into laughter at Shale's words. "But they mentioned a Shaperate who might be able to help with my missing memories," it continued, shrugging slightly. Somehow. I still didn't get how someone could make such a lifelike statue that moved. All I knew was that Shale was Shale, a living being that looked way different from me. "So, here we are."
'How did you two meet up, though?' Cleon signed, smiling in amusement as he glanced around the area. Books all around. Mistress Layla, Lady Elspeth, and Morrigan could probably spend days in this place, and not get bored. 'You were in different groups.'
"We met lunch in a tavern," Sten answered. His slight sneer left no question as to what he thought of the place. "To discuss what future plans there were to drive more madness into the city. This is supposed to help us?"
"Providing we take advantage of the madness," I answered. This time, it was my turn to shrug. "Stir them up into chaos, force them to give us lots of pretty promises, and then when we settle the dust back into order, we have people who owe their power to us, and we are in the perfect position to make them uphold their promises." Sten didn't look like he quite understood, but the fact he nodded proved he had faith in me. Honestly, that meant a lot.
'Why do I have a feeling the Landsmeet is going to be simultaneously hilarious and terrifying?' Cleon signed, a raised eyebrow adding dryness to the signs. 'You are so going to be in charge of something.'
"I am not. That will be Lord Nuada and Lady Elspeth. Their plan is already in motion, if you'll recall, with the rumors spiraling out of Highever and Redcliffe."
'True. The rumors were even in the market outside.' And it was glorious to hear. 'By the time we're out, we should really have some news.' And, with luck, an army to back us up. 'So, have you all found out anything about golems then, Shale, Sten?'
Whatever reply they might've had, an explosion rocked the ground, and for a split second, I was certain, and terrified, we were about to fall into the 'lava' below. But there was nothing. Nothing but a very, very confused Cleon, who had to have felt the tremor, but had no source for it.
I caught his sleeve, mostly to silently tell him that we were getting to the explanation, before focusing on Shale and Sten. "Please tell me that explosion was my imagination," I half-joked. Shaking his head with a slight smile, Sten simply pointed out the door to the screaming populace. "Right. Damn it." Sighing, I headed outside, wondering what was going on.
My eyes automatically fell on the girl, armed to the teeth, casually sitting on the railing of the walkway, a point of calm as everyone else raced about like headless chickens. She was looking right at me, her surprisingly gentle smile drawing attention to the brand on her face.
When she had my attention, she darted off into the crowd, pausing just once to look back at me. 'Follow me.' And, like an idiot perhaps, I did. Pushing through the crowd, trusting the others were following. Sliding into a store, and then into the tunnel in the wall, the rubble hinting on just where the explosion had been. Down and down, deeper into the tunnels.
The girl disappeared at the end, but that was fine. Because I was looking at a whole bunch of people, ready to kill me. I'd call 'trap', but… well, these people looked at shocked to see me as I was to see them. Thankfully, though, all of us were wandering about with our weapons.
Cleon spared me a single, annoyed glance before sliding along the edges of the battle, slipping in to rip someone apart before sliding out of the battle again. One of Zevran's tricks? It did help keep his back away from enemies. So long as someone wasn't hiding. …Okay, I was worried.
Or, well, I was. Until Shale slammed into nearby enemies, splattering them against the wall, before shifting slightly, the markings around its neck shifting and shimmering from pale blue to orange to teal. It bellowed, stunning those nearby, and for some reason, everyone just tried to attack it. Despite it being something literally made of stone.
A tap on my shoulder caught my attention again, and I turned to see Sten giving me the most disapproving look, pointedly nodding to the enemies. In response, I pointed to Shale, who looked all too amused at the dwarves' attempts to hurt it as it punched them across the room. Cleon ducked and weaved around the punches, taking out those actually chipping Shale. It was impressive.
Not that the impressiveness made Sten disprove any less of my standing around and staring, given the droll look he leveled. I rolled my eyes and sighed, palming my greatsword and stepping forward to get into the fight. And promptly went flying, crashing to my back, as a damn explosion went off because I tripped something and there were traps! Traps! Where in flames was I and why were there traps and what was going on?
"So, you someone's dog?" I tried to push myself up, only to find a dagger caressing my cheek. "Whose, I wonder?" The wielder of the dagger, a hard-eyed woman, sneered as she slowly pressed her dagger into my cheek, cutting a slow, even line. "Someone who knows where the true power of Orzammar lies?" she purred. The dagger was almost at my eye. My greatsword wasn't close enough, assuming it had survived that explosion. I could barely see the hilt out of the corner of my… not currently being threatened eye. "Down here with Orzammar's dirty little secret?"
"I'm afraid I don't really know what you're talking about," I told her honestly. I still heard fighting. My friends were still fighting. Somewhere. But I still shouldn't wait to be rescued. "I ran down a tunnel that opened up."
"You expect me to believe you?" She laughed. It sounded harsh, broken and remade. "Well, at least you're giving me a laugh before you die." That dagger was getting far too close to my eye. No offense to Lord Nuada, but I didn't want to emulate him in being one-eyed quite yet.
"Sorry, but…" I reached a hand into my boot, fingers curling around the sheath hiding there. "I'm not in a hurry to see just what the Maker really thinks about elves." Dagger in hand, I slammed it into her throat, right where it met the jaw, and decapitated her in a far too easy swing. Either people were more fragile than I thought, or I was stronger. I didn't know which one I felt more comfortable with.
Still, I was glad I listened to Zevran, Leliana, and Lady Elspeth and gotten a sheath for Mother's dagger that easily hid in my boots. It was good to have a weapon when no one expected it.
Humming caught my ear and, tensing, I turned to the sound, and saw the girl again. "And with that, the mighty Grey Wardens cripple the Carta." She meandered through the corpses, half-skips carefully placed to shake the bodies, checking the dead. "Of course, it will rise up again, but to do what even Orzammar's finest couldn't manage? Oh, how greatly the Ancestors favor them." She stopped in front of me, smiling up. "Sorry about not giving you information," she told me lightly. Her smile was still kind and gentle. "Meant to, but then someone screwed up with the explosives, and had to move fast." I didn't even know what just happened. "The name is Natia Brosca. I'm part of the Carta. And, considering I'm the best fighter of the survivors easily, I'm the leader." Oh. Great. "Meaning you just got some allies." Huh? "Look, I like Wardens. This nice one named Duncan got me out of a mess of trouble." Saving everyone, huh, Master Duncan? "And it sucks that you can't get help. But the Carta's reach is long, reaching even the surface. Whatever ass sits in the throne, you'll have Carta helping with information, smuggling, hired thugs… things no one likes to admit are needed."
"But to do that, you needed command," I summarized, relaxing ever so slightly. I glanced around for the others, and noticed them ducking into a different hallway. Checking that reinforcements weren't coming? "I got played."
"Eh, no worse than what you're doing to Orzammar right now." I couldn't argue that. "And, like I said, my original plan was to, you know, actually have a conversation? Tea and crumpets, and then explosions."
"Quite ladylike."
"I know, right? Rica's been teaching me so that I don't embarrass her and Bhelen in front of the nobles." Huh? "My sister, Rica, is Bhelen's concubine, though he's supposedly planning on marrying her?" She shrugged, and I heard the clink of weapons. How many did she have on her? "I don't know, or really care, and neither should you. I can keep my sister safe no matter what. I always have. But, hey, speaking of information, you want a hint to break the deadlock?" What. "Afraid it's only a hint. It's better to get all the information from the source, even if the source is probably up to his eyebrows in bad alcohol."
"Sure." My head was spinning. "What the hint?"
"Talk to Oghren." Oghren? "You'll know him. Redhaired dwarf with a beard, drunk off his ass, and still one of the best damn fighters Orzammar has ever seen. Why they didn't kill him when he killed little lord whats-his-face on accident, no matter what they claim. The darkspawn are too damn strong."
"I'll find him, then." I nodded to her. "Thank you, Natia."
"Not a problem. Consider it part of the apology for dropping you in the middle of a fight without context." She grinned. "By the time you're back, I'll have everything set up for you. You have fun now."
Why did I suddenly get a really bad feeling about what was going to happen? "Just one question." She tilted her head, eyes curious. "Why come after Wardens? Why did you think…?"
"Well, Wardens are nice and strong, I like Wardens, and you two were in Dust Town earlier. Gave coin without looking like you were pitying, and you helped out Zerlinda." She shrugged. "Girl like that is too nice for Dust Town, and it warms my heart to see her fight so hard for her baby, even though everything she had ever been taught should've made her leave the baby without a second thought. I'm willing to place my bets on someone who was willing to help."
"Yay for my bleeding heart." She laughed, bright and cheerful. "Another time then, Natia." I really needed some headache medicine.
I sent Shale and Sten to find the others while Cleon and I tracked down 'Oghren'. A couple of questions, and after getting some of the most disturbed looks, we were walking into Tapster's, again, and I discovered that 'Oghren' was the dwarf that caught my eye earlier.
Cleon's nose wrinkled as we approached the dwarf. 'Way too much liquor,' he signed when I gave him a questioning look. 'I feel like I'm getting drunk just breathing in the fumes.'
"Want to stay back and keep an eye on the others?" I asked. He smiled sheepishly. "Go on, but keep an eye on me. Just in case."
'As if you need to ask.' Cleon slipped back, keeping his back to the wall and smiling politely at those who waved at him.
I, however, just sat down at Oghren's table, knocking the wood to catch his attention. "Pardon, but are you Oghren?" I asked as his eyes slowly focused on me. Was he sober enough for a conversation? "I'm Aiden Tabris."
"One of the Wardens that have been the fuss of the kingdom." Rough voice, like he'd deadened his throat will all the alcohol. But the eyes that focused on me were strangely sharp. "Well, the rumors got some of it right," he noted, knocking back the last of whatever had been in his mug. "On what you look like."
"Rumors?"
"Bunches and bunches. Strong and muscular, but with a fair face, skin of the precious red clay used for only the most priceless of pottery." I wasn't certain I liked having my skin color compared to a type of dirt, but I suppose it was 'nice' dirt? "Strong jaw. Missing the glowing nimbus, though." The what. "Your fellow is described as slight and slender, with quiet danger presence of slime moss." Of what? "Slime moss is a sentient thing that moves with quickness as soon as they detect some sort of warmth, enveloping and dissolving targets with acid. Very dangerous. Lots of miners lose their lives to the things." FROM MOSS?! "A danger you don't expect, basically. Missing the glittering-green glow, but the deafness seems to be there. Quiet, and doesn't react to loud noises, just big gestures. Must be a recent thing." He shrugged, even as I tried to figure out how a lush determined that much. "I'm guessing he bowed out of 'talks' to keep things polite. Or couldn't stand the smell. Either-or." I smiled politely, and didn't answer. "What do you want?"
"I was told you knew a way to end the deadlock." I decided to just get down to business. "Do you?"
"I might." His guard was up. He might be unarmed, but I didn't doubt he could kill me with just a punch. It wasn't like I wore a helmet. "What's it to you?"
"I'm a Warden. I need help against the Blight. No one on the surface is taking it seriously."
"Bah, surfacers. Your 'Blights' are our everyday." He leaned back in his chair, eyeing me warily. "You want a king to help."
"Apparently, that's the only way I can force the dwarves to help. There's not a lot of 'goodness in one's heart' around here." He laughed and reached for another mug. I reached over to stop him. "If you don't know, that's fine. I apologize for disturbing you. But if you do, then I need that help. You can't tell me having an Archdemon flying about is good news for you."
"Well, no, it's not." He sighed, pulling his hand back from the mug. "You're looking for Branka, my wife." Okay? "Our only Paragon, who disappeared in the Deep Roads two years ago. I've been searching for her ever since, but no one else has bothered." What was a Paragon? "Paragon is a 'living ancestor', respected and worshiped. Noble houses are descended from Paragons." Ah. Oh, wait, I think I understood. "You're going down to look for her?"
"If that's what it takes to end the deadlock." Still, a question. "Why was she down there?"
"That's my secret." Oh, for crying out- "To make sure you take me along." …Ah. "I want to find her. If you're heading down, then so am I." With the alternative being wandering about the extensive Deep Roads.
"I see no problem with that." I smiled. "But can you give me at least a hint?"
"The Anvil of the Void, which the Smith-Paragon Caridin used to forge golems." …Golems like Shale? "Orzammar had peace with it, protected by the golems." Meaning that if we went down here, maybe Shale could learn some things. Like where it came from, should it choose, or even just 'what to do now', since it was coming with us only because it didn't know what to do. "That enough?"
"For now, yes. When we're deeper inside, I hope you'll trust us to explain more." I heard a small bit of ruckus near the door, and I saw the others walk in, Cleon going to them instantly. "Well, then, I have a very important request from you." Oghren's eyes narrowed warily. "None of my group have ever been to the Deep Roads. If you can tell me what we'll need, I would be grateful."
"…You want my advice?" He sounded skeptical, but sighed. "Kid, you're a weird one."
"A weird one who wants to get things done. So?"
"All right, al right, give me numbers for your group. I think I haven't drowned that part of my brain in liquor yet."
Author's Notes: Technically, in game, you can play both sides. Or play one and then choose the other. It's actually hilarious to do so. Provings are fun, I adore the Zerlinda sidequest, and I hate Orzammar with a passion. Natia is the default name for the female dwarf commoner.
Next Chapter – Nuada in Haven
