They were on their way to the gate when another dwarf stopped them. "There you are. I thought I'd spoken to a Grey Warden, but for some reason I'd chalked it up to the drink." He walked towards Branka. "Ah, I know you're down here to look for Branka, and, uh, I need to ask a favor."

Brosca nodded. "You've been trying to get help to find Branka, right?"

Oghren nodded. "Aye, I have. For all the sodding good it's done me." He shook his head angrily. "I'm the only one who still cares about her as a person. Everyone else thinks she's just a symbol they can leave in the Deep Roads where she can't offend anyone. I know what Branka wanted and how she was looking. You, presumably, know everything Bhelen's scouts have discovered about where she disappeared. If we pool our knowledge, we stand a chance of finding Branka. Otherwise, good sodding luck."

Brosca glanced over at Saitada, who nodded. "Sounds like we have a deal," he said.

"You should know that Branka was looking for the Anvil of the Void, the secret to building golems, which was lost centuries ago." Brosca glanced at Shale as Oghren kept talking. "The smith Caridin built it, and with it, Orzammar had a hundred years of peace, while it was protected by the golems forged on the Anvil. As far as anyone knows, the Anvil was built in the old Ortan Thaig. Branka planned to start looking there, if she could ever find it. All she knew was that it was past Caridin's Cross. No one's seen that thaig for five hundred years."

Saitada nodded. "Bhelen gave us a map. I can get to Caridin's Cross."

"If we're going, let's get moving. Branka's not going to sodding find herself." Oghren began walking towards the gate.

"Don't we have enough armed lunatics following us?" Brehan asked.

"So what's one more?" Lenore asked.

#

"You look uncomfortable."

"There is a lot of rock above our heads," Brehan said.

Brosca chuckled. "I remember the first time I came to the surface, and saw all that sky. Took me most of the first week to stop getting dizzy every time I looked up."

"Keeps feeling like I'm going to run out of air."

"That's actually happened in a few forges that burned the wrong..."

"Not helping."

"Don't worry, the tunnels around here are mostly stable. Of course, when we get a little further in..." Brosca said.

"Not helping."

"See deepstalkers and other creatures burrow through and can destabilize fortification and..."

"Still not helping."

"Nah, we'll be fine. I'm sure we won't hit any of those gas pockets where a single spark can make the very air explode, causing a massive collapse."

"Emma shem'nan, len'alas."

"Or a wall weakened by lava that will just come flooding out the moment the..." Brosca ran, ducking past Sten and Saitada as Brehan gave chase.

Saitada glanced up at Sten. "At least morale is high."

"Indeed."

#

"I have been mistaken."

Saitada blinked up at Sten. "You only noticed this now?"

The corners of his mouth twitched slightly. "Enjoy this while it lasts. It won't happen again. You are a soldier worthy to stand among the Beresaad. I did not think so when we first met."

"Thank you," she said, oddly touched by his words.

"You are welcome."

"The day will come when the arishok sends us here. On that day, I will not look to find you on the battlefield."

"I hope I won't see you then, too." It was daunting to consider there may come a time when they stood on opposite sides. She could only hope that day was far away. Or better yet, that it could be avoided entirely.

"There is no point in dwelling on it. We should move on."

She walked next to him for a while. "So what do you believe in, then?"

"When your people join us, you'll find out."

"What do you mean?"

"Our ships will come to these shores. And the antaam will bring this land to the Qun. I will... hope that I do not live to see that day."

"Do you find Ferelden very strange?"

"To put it lightly." He shook his head. "No one has a place here. Your farmers wish to be merchants. The merchants dream of being nobles, and the nobles become warriors. No one is content to be who they are."

"You sound a bit homesick."

He sighed. "Perhaps. It is strange to be in a crowd and hear a language that is not your own. To see faces that are and aren't like yours." He glanced down at her, and she nodded in understanding. "I miss the smells of Seheron. Tea and incense and the sea. Ferelden smells of wet dogs."

She shook her head. "You left out the rotting garbage."

"True. I was trying to forget that part."

"Is there anything you like about Ferelden?"

He hesitated a moment. "There is... interesting food here." His voice was almost grudging. "You have a thing... it doesn't have a word in the qunari tongue. Little baked things, like bread, but sweet, and crumbly."

"Cookies?"

"Yes!" She almost laughed at the enthusiasm of his answer. "We have no such things in our lands. This should be remedied."

"Perhaps when this whole little Blight thing is over, you and I can visit Seheron together, and introduce your people to the marvel of ginger snaps."

He glanced at her. "I would like that, kadan."

#

"Darkspawn ahead." Brehan narrowed his eyes. "Couple dozen genlocks, about twenty hurlocks. Two genlock alphas, a genlock emissary, four shrieks, and what may be an ogre on the edge of my senses."

"Alphas prolly means there are traps," Brosca added.

"Think you two could sneak closer, get a better look at the lay of the land?"

"Back in a minute, boss."

Saitada nodded and looked at her companions. "Wardens in first. Jerath, focus on the shrieks. Morrigan, back him up. Wynne, keep to the back, focus on healing. Leliana, stay with Wynne, keep a fall back point clear for her to work. Oghren, hold rear guard, make sure nothing comes up on us from behind."

She waited for Brehan and Brosca to report back before calling the rest of the tactics. After so long fighting together, they moved like the gears of a great machine. Sten moved a pace behind her, his greater reach and long blade allowing him to carve through the hurlocks while her shield provided defense for them both. Brosca and Zevran stayed at Lenore's side, their blades making short work of any who dared to attack the mage as she worked her spells over the field. Saitada blinked as Lenore managed to call up what appeared to be a great storm of lightning, dealing mass destruction to all the genlocks within its path.

She used her shield to knock a hurlock off balance, and Sten brought his blade down. The field was clear. "Report?" She cast her senses over their companions. Either their luck was holding, or Lenore's resistance potion was doing its job. Likely both.

"I lost a knife. Other than that, I think we are good," Brosca said. "Songbird actually managed to get through a fight without something trying to eat him."

"Brehan?" Jerath said.

"Yes?"

Jerath tossed him something. Brehan glanced at the sword hilt. "Elven work." He turned it over in his hand. "How did it get here?"

#

"Caridin's Cross!" Oghren shook his head. "I can't believe Bhelen actually tracked this place down." He gestured. "This used to be one of the biggest crossroads in the old empire. You could get anywhere from here. Including Ortan Thaig."

"See any sign of Branka yet?"

"Not a one, but trust me, we will one we're on the path to the old Ortan Thaig. She was going to Caridin's home."

"What's so important about Ortan Thaig?" Cathiel asked.

"It's the home of Caridin, the Paragon who made the Anvil. He was an Ortan before he founded his own house, and even then, he spent most his time in their thaig. Branka figured it was the best guess for where the Anvil was located."

"What is this anvil, anyway?" Cathiel asked, glancing at the respective dwarves.

"No one but Caridin ever really knew more than it had some kind of Stone-blessed power. Every golem who ever ranged across the empire was hammered on the steel of that Anvil, but no one ever knew exactly how they were made. But Branka was sure she could find out."

Cathiel glanced at Shale. "So you know where it is?"

"No."

"But if you were made there?"

"I do not remember."

"But..."

"Do you remember the day you were born?" Jerath asked Cathiel.

"I... suppose you have a point, there."

#

Brehan let the last notes of the eulogy die away. Returning the pieces of the blade to the tomb seemed a good enough use of their accidental side trip. They ate before backtracking and going down the other path.

The ruins were fascinating. Any other day, he'd love to take Leliana and spend time exploring. He sensed something, and turned to Saitada. "Ghoul."

"You sure?"

"Something between a darkspawn and one of us. Seems the logical conclusion."

"Tread careful."

They moved in, and more of those spiders dropped from the ceiling. Lenore gave a vexed shout before simply setting the nest on fire. They had to duck under the ruined buildings to avoid falling debris. Lenore gave them an apologetic look. "I'm really starting to not like spiders."

"I understand your feelings on the matter. Could you please not set the air on fire?" Brehan asked.

"Sorry."

"Good thing there weren't any of those gas pockets, eh Songbird?" Brosca elbowed him.

"Dread wolf take you, dwarf." He shook his head. "I hate the Deep Roads."

"Heh," Oghren said. "You're in the wrong line of work."

#

Lenore approached the twisted dwarf. "There's nothing for you here!" he shouted at her. "It's mine! I've claimed it!"

"Claimed it? Are you part of the clan who lived here?"

"The clan...? No. But it's still mine! Ruck's been here for years now, and no shiny surfacer will take him away!"

She heard Oghren behind her. "Bah! He's a bloody scavenger, good as sodding gone."

The ghoul waved his hands at them. "Begone, you! You'll bring the dark ones back, you will! They'll crunch your bones!"

Oghren spat in disgust. "Word has it you can only survive down here by eating the darkspawn dead."

"Darkspawn blood is poison," Lenore said, glancing back at him. "Men have died from drinking it." She still had nightmares about Daveth.

"It burns when it goes down. It burns!" He gestured wildly before running off. "It's my claim, not yours! Crunch your bones!"

She went after him. She dimly heard Saitada yell for her to come back. Brosca and Zevran almost immediately came after her. She followed the ghoul to a campsite, and blinked.

"Go away!" He yelled. "This is mine! Only I gets to plunder its riches!"

"Is this Branka's campsite?" she asked him.

He pounded his chest. "It's mine! I'm the one who found it. I drove out the crawlers. Now it's mine!"

"Was this campsite here when you found it?" She could see some exploration equipment left behind.

"Everything was here. Everything the crawlers did not already take! Rocks and tents and worms! It's all mine!"

She smiled, crouched down, and held out a hand to him. "I'm not here to steel anything, I promise."

He came towards her, his eyes mesmerized. "Pretty lady... pretty eyes, pretty hair... smells like the steam of burning water, blue as the deepest rock." He stopped a couple feet from her, and looked up at her hopefully. "So... the pretty lady won't take anything from Ruck? You won't take Ruck's shiny worms and pretty rocks?"

"I just want to talk. I won't take anything."

"Oh." He came a bit closer, and sat down by her. "Ruck not mind that, maybe..."

"So your name is Ruck?" This close, she could feel the taint in him. It occurred to her that without the potions she'd brewed on the way to Ostagar, this is what Brehan would have become.

"Ruck not pretty name, not pretty like lady. Ruck is small and ugly and twisted."

"I think I met your mother. Is her name Filda?"

He threw himself backwards, legs kicking. "N-n-n-no. No Filda. No mother. No warm blanket and stew and pillow and soft words! Ruck doesn't deserve good memories. No-no-no-no-no-

She tried putting a hand on his shoulder to calm him. "Your mother misses you. She asked me to find you."

He shuddered. "Sh-she did not know, not what I did. I was very, very, very, very angry and then someone was dead. They wanted to send Ruck to the mines. If I went to the mines, sh-she would know. Everyone would know. So I came here, instead." His voice became small. "It is better now."

"How did you survive here?" She saw Brosca and Zevran looking around, and tried to keep Ruck talking.

"When the dark ones were here, I kept to the shadows. They don't look in the shadows, not if you're quiet. Not if you eat their flesh. Then the dark ones think you're one of them. They leave you alone." His voice became sad. "But now they're gone."

"Do you know where the 'dark ones' went?"

He smiled up at her, as if happy to help. "I thinks they went south, pretty lady. Far, far to the south. That is where the dark master calls them with his beautiful voice. So much joy when he awoke!" His voice became wistful. "After the dark master awoke, he called his children and they all went. I wanted to go, too, and gaze upon his beauty."

Could it be he could sense the location of the archdemon? "Where is the dark master now? Do you know?"

"He stopped calling. I wish I could go see him, but Ruck, no, no, Ruck-Ruck is a coward." He looked at her, then touched her hand. His voice became almost hopeful. "You know, do you not? Ruck sees, yes. He sees the darkness inside you."

"I am a Grey Warden."

He smiled at her. "Grey like the stone. Guardian against the darkness. Beautiful like waterfalls under the lichen."

She found her heart going out to the poor creature. "You have to tell your mother you're alive."

His eyes filled with tears. "No, no, no! She cannot... She remembers a boy, a little boy, with bright eyes and a hammer and she cannot see this! Swear-promise-vow you won't tell!"

"Would you rather she think you're dead?"

"Yes! Yes." He nodded wildly. "T-tell the mother Ruck is dead. He's dead and his bones are rotting in the crawler's webs and she should never look again."

"All right." She patted his hand. "I'll tell her you died bravely."

His face became almost worshipful. "Pretty lady is like Mother, yes. Too good, too pretty for the darkness. H-how can Ruck serve you with thank yous?" He scampered away, then came back with something wrapped in a tattered blanket. "Here-here, take this."

She accepted, then considered a moment. "Do you have anything to trade?"

"For you, yes. Ruck has many things. He can give them, and you don't even have to give him shiny coins, no? But you can if you want."

Lenore continued talking to Ruck as the others examined the camp. She bid the ghoul a sad farewell when Saitada indicated it was time to move on. After a moment, she offered him a vial. "Ruck, if it ever burns too much, and you don't... if you want to go to sleep and never wake again, you can drink this."

He clutched the vial to him as if she'd given him the world. "Pretty lady sings like the veins of lyrium."

"Goodbye, Ruck."

"Goodbye."

After they were out of sight, Brosca fell into step on one side of her, Zevran on the other. "You okay, Fireball?"

"I can't help but wonder how many of the soldiers at Ostagar have ended up like that." She sighed. She looked ahead to where Brehan was walking, his back tense and angry. "Or Brehan's friend, Tamlen." She shook her head. "Us, one day."

"What do you think I'm keeping Zevran around for? We start talking about crunching bones, he stabs us."

"Only out of love," Zevran said.

She smiled, and then blinked. She unwrapped the item Ruck had given her. Zevran let out a small whistle. "That... that is a nice sword."

She offered it to him, hilt first. "Looks like it might suit you."

#

"By the tits of my ancestors, Ortan Thaig. I never thought I'd see this place in the flesh." He narrowed his eyes at a section of wall. "I can see Branka all over this place. She always took chips from the walls at regular intervals when she was in a new tunnel - check their composition." He considered a moment. "If she was still here, though, she'd have sentries out by now."

Saitada nodded, and kept moving forward. Brehan took point, but she'd warned him not to get out of sight of the rest of them. Too many tunnels.

They were examining another set of ruins when Saitada heard one of the sounds she dreaded most.

"Oops," Lenore said.

Saitada turned to see a demon rising from a glowing altar. It looked like the same sort of creature Uldred had turned into.

After they'd put it down, Saitada strode over to Lenore. Lenore looked down at her feet. "Care to explain?"

"I found a power nexus. Activating it must have triggered the altar."

"Why were you activating a power nex... no, never mind. I don't want to know." Saitada gestured angrily. "We are about to wander into an area teaming with darkspawn, and thanks to you our best fighter now has a dislocated shoulder, Alistair has a broken nose, and Sten was nearly disemboweled."

"I'm sorry..."

"You're sorry? You were sorry when you spread ashes on a rock. You were sorry when you woke up a golem with a non-functioning control rod. You were sorry when you brought a dragon down on us. Does someone have to die before it occurs to you to think of the consequences before you act?" She shook her head.

"Boss..."

"Brosca, shut it." Saitada didn't even bother to look at him. "Lenore, you're on camp detail until I say otherwise."

"Yes, Commander."

"Fix Jerath's shoulder. Wynne shouldn't have to clean up your mess."

"Yes, Commander."

#

"You have a barbed tongue, Morrigan. Tell me, why do you speak to others this way?"

Morrigan smirked. "I owe you no explanation. There is no writing on my forehead that says 'Please, guide me!'"

Wynne shook her head. "You are traveling with these people. It behooves you to be civil."

"You are too transparent, old woman. Do not bring up our companions, when all you wish is for me to be civil to you. I am not one of your Circle apprentices, to hang on your every word. I am not Alistair, who sees in you a surrogate mother." Morrigan's face was contemptuous.

"No, it is obvious you are nothing like Alistair."

"Take your lectures elsewhere. They mean nothing to me."

Saitada sighed. After several days in the deep roads and little chance to avoid each other's company, tempers were starting to flare. Lenore was still sulking, and Brosca and Zevran were hovering over her a bit protectively. She shook her head. Lenore was well into adulthood, she did not need to be coddled like a child. They hadn't gone far when Morrigan and Wynne began to bicker once more.

"You do not approve of me, do you?"

"You have to ask? I didn't realize I was being subtle." Wynne's eyes narrowed at the younger woman.

Morrigan all but cackled. "Ah, the old cat still has her claws, I see. And you also do not approve of my involvement with our stalwart young warden."

"You are dangerous, Morrigan. Dangerous, cunning and thoroughly deceitful. But you are beautiful, and he is young. It's a pity he doesn't know any better."

Morrigan tossed her hair loftily. "Why, Wynne, I do believe that is the first time you have ever offered a compliment. Thank you."

"Only you would take that as a compliment." Wynne shook her head in disapproval.

"Listen, old woman. what happens between myself and him is not your concern. You can approve or not approve as you wish, but this is one thing you cannot influence and mould to your liking."

"So you say. I do hope that one day soon you will discover that neither is he."

"You mistake my intent, old cat. And you are a fool."

"Am I? Well, let's hope so."

Saitada found herself feeling a bit glad Jerath was up with Brehan, taking point. She couldn't imagine he'd be too happy with the conversation.

It started again as they entered a new tunnel.

"Have you given thought to, perhaps, prolonging your life by forcing another spirit into your service?" Morrigan asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Of course not."

"I would. Of course I am still young, beautiful, and my life is my own - while you are bound to that Circle. Hmm. I wonder why I asked. It would be a silly thing, prolonging your life. A waste."

"Think what you will, Morrigan. When the end comes, I will go gladly to my rest, proud of my achievements. While you... you will see how empty your life was. You will realize that because you never had love for others, you never received love in return. And you will die alone and unmourned." Actual venom filled Wynne's voice.

"You speak of meaningless things. I need no one to mourn me, old woman."

"More's the pity."

This was getting out of hand. "Morrigan, Wynne, that's enough."

"Commander..." Wynne started to protest.

"I said that is enough. If you two cannot be civil, then stay away from each other."

Morrigan lengthened her stride when she saw Jerath waiting for them at entrance to another tunnel. She spoke to him a moment, then kissed him. Wynne shook her head. "Such childish antics."

Saitada sighed.

#

"Do you realize that you have been smiling for hours, now?"

Brehan blinked at Morrigan. "Have I?"

"Since the last time you and that girl shot glances at each other, in fact." Morrigan shrugged. "I cannot imagine what you begin to see in her. I hope at least the dalliance is worthwhile."

Brehan shrugged. "Oh, you have no idea."

"I see." She actually chuckled. "Glad to hear it, then. 'Tis a bit sickening to watch you two, but I imagine it at least takes your mind from our... situation."

He considered a moment. Was the woman actually trying to be... nice? "Well, thank you."

"You and Leliana do seem well suited," Jerath said.

Brehan smiled. "Yeah. Strange, isn't it?" He shook his head. "And Orlesian bard turned chantry priestess, of all things." He glanced at Jerath. "Are you an Andrastian?"

"No."

"I thought most city elves were."

"Most are. I'm not."

"Do you follow the creators, then?" Brehan asked. Jerath shook his head. "So... what do you believe?"

"That the world is what we make it." He glanced back over her shoulder. "So she was a bard. Explains a few things."

"We chased Marjolaine off in Denerim. Hopefully, that's the last of her."