Chapter 6:
It's A Long Way down
Walking up to the old ruin, the veil is bursting with traced whispers. He strolls over to the place she once lie, heavy in his heart. Bending to get the message the spirit left. A shadow of her figure still marks the ground. He can see how brightly she shown. Soaking in feelings of her love, it pulses though. Falling into himself for a moment, putting away the old gods. Pulled from the fade, he breathes in every moment and lets it fill him. Nothing else is there in this moment, beyond this dream. Reading the note that Cole left, his spirit lit up, glowing blue in aura.
I never wanted to say goodbye, so I didn't.
I still feel his touch. I will never FORGET.
Leading me to sites long-lost and opening my mind,
he left knowledge I had felt in aging whispers.
Giving me freedom, he became a part of me, eternally.
He had been such a good friend, how could I abandon him now?
Scribbled at the bottom, words not fully formed, but enough for the mage to make out:
I can help – Cole
The elf sits in this place for a moment longer. Traces of her love still surprising him. What dalish falls in love with the Dread Wolf? The lone apostate.
Inquisitor, there is something I should tell you before we go meet with these Dwarves.
"What is it Varric?"
"Dwarves are stubborn and hold to their traditions harder than their alliances. Not like they will eat your head off, but they just… hold tradition high, if you get what I'm saying."
"I understand Varric, I do not intend to go there and expect anything less."
"Yeah, well if you can let Morrigan in on that sentiment that would be great."
"You worry about Morrigan, there is some history between you two?"
"Everyone, who is anyone, has history with Morrigan."
"Then you two have something in Common." Lavellan smirks.
"I guess you're right. Well, just tell me when you are ready to leave." Nothing said will put Varric in any state of ease.
The land lays hollow and vast, with a sky holding heavy and deep, bursting with stars. A small entrance – covered by olden vines – marks the stone standing before them. Just as marked on their map, by Scout Harding back at the forward camp. The stone, simple, smooth large blocks shaping a squared archway; not decorated, but in place. The group enters, meeting with an open stone room. Torches mark the entrances, carved into each facing side of the room, providing the light in the room. Within moments they are met by three dwarves dressed as scouts. The one in the middle boasts a terrible beard and said nothing, the silence the same with the other two. Passing Lavellan a scroll, he nods and they turned and walk back into the stone.
"Well that went better than I expected." Morrigan shows her relief.
Varric looks over at her in his own ease, though still concerned about what they passed over.
"Is it normal for the dwarves to remain silent?" Confused by such a brief meeting, Lavellan prying at her companions for answers.
"Depends on the dwarf and circumstance." Varric adds in his knowledge. "It seems that whatever they passed you, they dared not even speak of it. They can be very literal." Varric, unable to translate much of the ancient texts, passes them over.
"Our people at Skyhold can help." Lavellan says with haste.
Exiting the stone, a bandit force poses its threat. They are not typical bandits or mercenaries that they meet in this battle. They seem a bit, out-of-place. On the body of the leader, now lying lifeless at Lavellan's feet, a note reads: Follow them, take her alive and bring this Inquisitor to me. – Commander Thrull.
"Commander Thrull?" Varric comments with a sense of sarcasm in his tone.
"It seems we have a lead for Leliana's people to look into" Lavellan replies.
Back at Skyhold, Lavellan makes her way to the war room eager to have the scrolls transcribed.
"We need these translated, urgently." The documents now in the hands of Josephine.
"Inquisitor, Blackwell is requesting to lead some charges out to the factions of mages we have found. We can send along scouts to bring back any information found that could lead us to whomever is leading this madness." Cullen voices the matter in need of approval, while they look over the war table deciding the next matter to lend their attention to.
"Any word from Empress Celene yet?" Leliana presses Josephine for answers to the release of elven slaves.
"Nothing yet." Josephine easing the reply.
Leaving the war room, Lavellan takes a moment for her weaponry and armor. She often finds a visit to the undercroft helps keep her focus on the missions and the causes she faces. Dagna focuses on her enchanted items, while Harritt repairs the damage done to her armors. Her focus remains on sharpening her blades. Her weapons, an extension of her own physical reach. Caring for them, is much like a ritual. They work into the evening, before Lavellan finds the call of a filling meal and her bed meeting her needs.
It does not take long for the information to reach Leliana's desk. The spymaster takes a moment to look over the articles in preparation to deliver the information to the others. Always looking for an angle or things that might lead or connect to the other secrets she collects from her expansive network. The crows caw around her, guiding her focus. Her archives hold more power than some may imagine, reminding all, the risks of crossing her or those she has pledged her devotion to. Her darkness, brings some of the brightest hope for the Inquisition. Lavellan gets word and heads into the war room once again, ready to continue their journey. "We've analyzed the scrolls given by the dwarves, Inquisitor. They lead to an ancient dwarven ruin." Leliana summarizes their findings and has placed full reports for the advisers, in their studies.
"We will be on our way then, anything particular we should look out for?"
"Varric has asked that you meet with him before you leave."
"Well, it seems we may step on a lot of toes and there is good reason." Varric sighs
"What do you mean?"
"Dwarves hold places sacred, much like the elves. They do not like anyone nosing around their old ruins. Knowing that this ruin is long forgotten, stirs the pot. Those scrolls you received were kept locked away carefully. I hate to think of what may happen once they discover they are gone." Varric says shaking his head concerned of what may come.
"I do not know if this is a wise path to take, if we are to gain the trust of the dwarves."
"Varric, what other choice do we have. If there are answers to what happened, we need to find them."
"But, what if it doesn't? Not everything brought up from below has resulted in bettering people."
"We can make it better, Varric or at least try."
"The stone is a long way down, Inquisitor. I hope it's worth the journey. Who knows what is down there and what could meet us when we come back up."
"Our people are already a long way down, Varric."
Looking over the land, void and dry it boasts a colossal reach, covered in harshly blowing sand and a bursting sky. This area holds a desolation about it, unlike the others.
"We have surveyed the area, Inquisitor, everything is covered in decades of sand. We were lucky to find some old stone peeking out. We uncovered the area finding a doorway, but we have not found out how to enter it exactly. I wish there was more to tell you." Scout Harding politely excuses herself.
"Thanks for the information, it seems we have some work to do."
"Be careful Inquisitor, I don't think this land has seen footsteps in, who know how long."
The land indeed lay empty, surprising that anything was found at all. There are no clear paths, nothing that leads in any direction. They rely on the flames, left from the scouts, for direction. Without any leads, it would be impossible to know anything remained here at all.
"What is it with the dwarves and sand?" Dorian's annoyance expressed with thoughts of how long it took to rid all the sand trapped in their gear and belongings, the last time they ventured into the desert lands. The group has walked in the solitude of the land for some time, combating the fleeting beasts of the land as they make their way to the marked location the scouts uncovered. Walking towards the area, a narrow pathway revealed, by the slightest gap between the mounting sand. An old, unlit brazier, shows the direction. Muin uses her magic to light the brazier, a slight passageway becomes exposed as the magic from the veilfire soaks into the thirsting air. The sandstone begins to shine in the likeness of the old dwarven ruins. It is clear now, the sand had covered the stone years before.
"Interesting, let's look around."
"An untouched tomb that has not seen life in ages." How do such places just become lost to time?" A thought echoed by everyone.
"There are no whispers to guide us, we must stay alert." Muin adds, confirming the desolation. Their footsteps echo in the silence, the hallway made of smooth carven stone – resembles the same appearance found in any dwarven ruin – go in a great length. Lighting the way through, the lanterns lead to a ladder, old but sturdy. It leads them deep into the stone. Sliding to the bottom, always brings a nervous moment, for unknown is what may be below.
"A tomb, it seems."
Continuing to the massive dwarven tomb. The statues of an old dwarven paragon, towers over the party of friends. Carved in the stone, in the shape of a plaque the dwarven statue holds is the story of the guard.
His life was always in secret.
From the stone he was born unknown to all.
Keeping the secrets of the time
from the pries of those who seek
the knowledge of the stone.
Devoted in his honor, his tongue he removed.
"I'm not sure if I am impressed or creeped out." Muin discloses a piece of her personality.
The group looks at her in an endearing surprise.
"This must have been a burdensome position." Lavellan states calmly.
"The service to the ancestors is never an easy one." Muin knowingly expresses her sentiment.
Searching the area, they found a source for veilfire. Using the torch, Lavellan discovers a lost rune carving.
"It's a direction, pointed out by the image of a compass facing NNE. The rune reads - cannot meet beneath without fire. "Its elven."
"There was an alliance between our people." The comment – whispered from Muin to remind of the peace that once was – lays softly in the ears of the party. Searching further around the tomb they uncover a lever. Pulling it brings a group of rage demons. These spirits in place, to destroy looters. Dorian sets the pace with a blast of fire, joined in by the rogue's blades. A quick shot from Varric's crossbow leaves the beast defeated. Muin's blade slashing across the next demon, stilled by her light. The fatal lunge from Lavellan's dual blades ends its threat. On defeat, a key drops from one of the ancient demons.
"I wonder what this key opens." The question left to wait an answer.
"North, northeast shall we?" Dorian suggests.
"Did I mention that I hate caves?" Varric lets out his concern.
Continuing out of the ancient tomb, the door slams shut behind them.
"I suppose it'll take some time for more demons to find their way in replacement.
The dwarves were cleaver." Muin voices her appreciation for such schemes. The group follows the direction the veilfire specifically reveals, through lanterns, along the way. Lighting them, the magic releases into the air as if it is quenching the thirst of the skies.
"I always wondered what the sands were like in person. It tickles sharp, but is soft. I can see why the dwarves stayed underground." Disclosing her thought.
"So, you spent your whole life in the forest then?" Dorian accepts the opportunity to learn more of this rare creature.
"Most of the time, yes. If not in the forests then I was in the fade, never freed of my service." Muin smiles in her words.
"So, I guess elven kind did have their slaves." Dorian makes an argument with a mage who no longer walks with them.
"In some ways, I can see how you would compare the service to slavery. In some ways it is. Some of our kind became obsessed, twisted in belief. They controlled their people and built their kingdoms with what they called growth; it was restricting. In the beginning, our service held a place of honor; our calling, a choice. Just to have this choice brought much pride." Muin explains shadowing that pride.
"So, was yours choice or force?" A question Varric always wondered about these guardians.
"Mine was of choice. Rebellion was coming and I wanted to protect what could not be lost to corruption. So many were falling, in that fear I found faith." Muin opens her sentiment.
"Well then, you have joined the right group." Varric affirms.
"We are a bunch of crazy rebels aren't we?" Dorian states with an overwhelming sense of pride.
"Well, some of us are crazy." Varric stabs in a quip.
"Rebels make the changes needed, when no one else will. Not a fate to face alone. Who else will do it, but the foolish?" Muin smiles politely through Dorian's gaze.
Continuing along the hidden path in the dark, dry, desert met with another route leading to another tomb. This one, much like the other, buried deep in the sand.
"Another tomb of secrets?" Lavellan asked out loud seeking no answer. Using the veilfire she finds another rune – east-Southeast. Looking further around the tomb a discovery of burial stone that lie ajar. Pushing it further open, awakes the demon within. After a quick fight with the rage demon Lavellan collects the items inside. A higher weave robe and a staff of light. A note reads: May light guide you to the unseen. Clearly the items placed with purpose. Lavellan passes them over to the sentinel elf. Muin equips the staff. It locks on to her spirit. The sound echoes for a moments then fades.
"Are you alright?" Lavellan responds.
"It's lit now, its awake." The calm in Muin's voice relaxes the group's sentiment.
"Your magic is useful, Muin." Dorian let's on.
"And yet her blades do the dirty work, you are a gift aren't you?" Varric says, admiring her brutal ability.
Headed out to the last tomb, the doors seal behind the group. Locking away the remnants of their presence. The land lay hallow, no one single soul, beyond their own and any creature that roam the lands. This is a place forgotten. Following the light, now provided by Muin's staff, the group is lead to a huge dune of sand. Unnatural in its stature, it boasts over the desert. Walking in the direction provided, Muin's staff begins to light up crystals buried beneath, they protrude, pushing the sand from the frame of a sealed opening. Revealing a door with an intricate lock. Lavellan puts in the ancient key and turns it slowly; it resists. Muin faces the door, letting her magic release from the staff. Lighting up the surrounding stones the key turns, unlocking the door for the first time in ages.
The path is wide and the stone lay untouched in complete perfection, a road meeting the surface. Stone steps lead them down, as each area lights itself from the magic Muin carries. Revealing carvings and stones sparkling in brilliance.
"Has this road ever seen use?" Lavellan expresses the untouched image before them.
"There are no whispers here." Muin agrees.
The road leads them to a huge cave, it opens wide and jagged. To the left is a small garden with a pool in the middle. Plants grow in the light provided by some magic it seems. Two halla stand over the pool. In the rear, a wolf statue guards the area. On the Right, stands a large stone hallowed out to form a room. Statues of old dwarven kin stand tall, guarding the opening. The stones glistens with light.
"Athan'lr lath araval ena." Muin whispers.
"What is an elven ruin doing down here?" Dorian asks in complete interest.
Walking up between the two a large stones, elven in nature, scribed on a stone plaque in dwarven runes.
Our secret must stay. The gods have turned us away.
Together we stay. But they tear us apart.
They drive us to ruin. Arrogant and stubborn.
How do they not see that they bring death?
Let this stone stand to show that we once were in unity.
Above and Below. But, now we must separate for a time.
Only to meet again, when the heavens awake.
"There is so much sorrow here, but they wrap it in hope." Muin calmly whispers.
"I wonder what secrets lie here." Lavellan always ready for answers, surfaces her thoughts. "Just be careful." Varric expresses in his caring way.
Walking to the Elven ruin, a feel of calm and peace is searching within them. Whispers come up from the water, drawing them in. Muin is standing still and in a moment, lights up brightly. A voice talks through her.
Andaran atish'an, da'mi. Lath sulevin.
Lath araval ena arla ven tu vir mahvir melana 'nehn enasal ir sa lethalin.
Her glowing form fades and falls back to her physical form again.
"It's in the water, Lethallan." Muin points, just as she was.
Lavellan makes her way to the pools edge enraptured for a moment, pulled on hard by feeling hands stretched out. She can hear the cries centuries old. Her hand touches the water. She lights up in a golden haze and pulls out a stone resembling dwarven origin.
"This must be a key of some sort." Lavellan states standing from the pool. They hurry over to the dwarven ruin. Inside, the stone lights up from Muin's staff. The stone is warm, inviting. A statue of a dwarven paragon stands in towering might. Holding a plaque written in ancient elven, in the voice of the dwarf.
Kal Repartha on loose sand.
Blow off the dust to find the vein of silver.
Cut off the stone.
The Isana will lead your way.
Isana? That's Lyrium." Varric comments on Muin's translation in wonder.
"Cut off the stone", could that be more than what's deciphered? Lavellan asks.
"The last time I found some mysterious lyrium, it did not turn out well." Varric states in worry. Continuing to look around, they find a spot that is loose in the stone. Muin's light shows a hole.
"The stone key, it must go in there." Lavellan places the stone in the fitted spot.
The old room shakes as a door slides up, opening to a small room. Nothing stands in this room, but two scrolls and a platform holding lyrium sealed in a secure glass and magically bound vase.
"The scrolls are not of any origin I can read." Muin passes them to Varric.
He can barely make out something about, "a sickness" and something that "slows."
"Could this be what could stop the red lyrium growth?" Dorian asks.
"We need to get this to Skyhold." Lavellan commands.
"But, Inquisitor, bringing this to the surface would put us in much danger." The troubled dwarf presses at the issues.
"Can we send people here?" Muin asks calmly.
"It would be risky, either way. We cannot draw attention to any of this. If this got into the wrong hands, Andraste's ass." Varric exasperated.
"We need to secure the area, quietly." Lavellan agrees.
"It cannot open without the staff and the key. We can take those with the scrolls until we can bring back forces." Muin whispers calmly.
"I told you I didn't like this." Varric argues. In a moment, the sound of steps, the three dwarven scouts from the meeting place before stand before the party.
"Partha. It has been a long-time since I have had the honor of being in the presence of Elvhen.
It is with great honor that we greet you, dust to dunkels that we meet now. This place our secret to keep, we must share. The stone has awoken and the time is amgeforn. We must have amgarrak for all of our people. Together once more. We are with the Paragon of Secrets, our brother. We will work with your people to find the answers for all of us, in honor."
"I'm sorry I did not get your name." Lavellan asks, always in grace.
"I am Shaper Brovil", the dwarf with the terrible beard states. "With me are Shapers Degar and Ano."
"You are all Shapers?"
"Our family has been for centuries, passing down the secrets of our kind."
"So you are brothers, then?"
"That we are, it was a hard night for our mother."
"You are triplets?" Lavellan asks in surprise.
"We are a rare case, some think a curse among our family. But our skills proved otherwise." Brovil states in pride. "But, I'm the oldest." Degar cuts in.
"You don't know that, I could well be." Brovil cuts back while Ano just stands there staring off.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, all of you." Lavellan showing her kind heart.
"Lethallen, if I may stay with them and help them in this research, I think I could be of great use." Muin interrupts. Parting ways back to Skyhold a union of strangers begins. Lavellan meets with Leliana to get support out to the area, if anyone else shows up, uninvited.
"Muin is there with them, she will return when she is no longer needed". Lavellan explains to Morrigan.
"Interesting, I am curious about what they may find." Morrigan states calmly.