The strange buildings seemed to be infested with giant spiders and deepstalkers, which seemed intent on preying upon each other – but weren't adverse to switching to two-legged prey when it presented itself. Disturbingly, it seemed even giant spiders weren't immune to the taint; Anders and Carver found they could sense corruption in some of the unpleasant arachnids, which made fighting them all the more fraught with danger for the non-Warden members of the party. Anders spent time after each clash to carefully check Fenris, Hawke and Varric over for any traces of the Blight in addition to healing their various small wounds.
"I begin to see now why you find the Deep Roads so tiresome," remarked Fenris as Anders healed a long scratch down his face, then closed his eyes as he sent his senses probing slowly through the elf's blood, seeking out and thankfully finding no trace of the taint. The mage merely opened his eyes and regarded him silently before pulling away.
"You're clear," he said simply, turning away to Hawke.
They moved on in silence, alert to any danger as they passed between the buildings, drawing closer to the keep.
"Wait... what's that?" said Carver suddenly, turning to investigate what at first looked like just another pile of bones. Varric drew closer, dropping down to one knee as he reached out to touch the crumbling, rusty armour, fingers tracing over the corroded remains of insignia on the breastplate and belt.
"Varric?" asked Hawke after long minutes of silence as Varric bent over the bones, head lowered. Slowly he lifted his head and held out a hand over the remains.
"Atrast tunsha," he murmured quietly. "Totarnia amgetol tavash aeduc." He covered his face with his hand and drew a shuddering breath, then slowly rose to his feet and turned away, head lowered.
"Varric?" said Anders gently.
"Tethras Garen," the dwarf said softly. Anders laid a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm so sorry," he said quietly. After a moment, Varric nodded and walked on.
"What did those words mean?" asked Carver.
"Dwarven ritual for the dead," answered Anders, his voice hushed. "To send his spirit back to the Stone."
"How do you..." began Carver, tailing off as Anders looked at him. He shook his head. "Never mind me. Forget I asked."
Anders nodded and followed the dwarf.
They'd just finished wading through yet another group of darkspawn when a pained expression crossed Anders' face and he groaned, pressing a palm to his forehead as he gritted his teeth. "Stop! Just make him stop talking! Make him stop!" he cried.
"It's Corypheus," said Carver, darting a worried glance at the mage. "He can hear Corypheus!"
Anders took a few more steps, then suddenly shuddered and doubled over with a scream, clutching his head. Hawke turned, a look of alarm on his face.
"What's wrong?" he asked as Anders staggered, clutching his head.
"I can't... the voices..." said Anders weakly, pressing his hands against his forehead. "W-wardens... the Joining..." He fell heavily to his knees, pressing a palm to his forehead as his face contorted in pain, blanched white. "I have too much taint in my blood. I can't shut him out." Blindly, he reached a shaking hand towards Hawke. "Help me, love..." he whispered weakly.
Hawke fell to his knees and reached out for Anders as Fenris hovered over his shoulder, staring down at the tortured mage with an intense look in his green eyes.
"I...will not..." Anders shuddered violently then suddenly lurched upright, eyes wide open and blazing with blue-white fire as his whole body was suddenly covered in a coruscating lacework of brilliant energies.
"Be controlled!" growled Justice, glaring at them with alien eyes.
Hawke leapt to his feet and moved back as Fenris laid a hand on his blade with a muttered "Venhedis!"
"We can't take you anywhere, Blondie," groaned Varric.
"Let it go, love," said Hawke. "There's a better way to fight him."
Justice stared at him without recognition, then reached for the staff slung on his back. Slamming the point down into the ground at his feet with a concussive blast of energy, he rose slowly to confront them, staff ready, as two strange shadowy shapes slowly coalesced into corporeal shape behind him. Justice glared at them defiantly, lightning dancing across his outstretched hand.
Fenris leapt straight for the mage as Justice gestured and a blast of lightning knocked Hawke backwards several feet, sending him sprawling. Varric began firing bolts at the creature on the right as Carver leapt for the shadowy beast on the left with a yell.
Fenris ignored them as he concentrated on Justice. His greatsword whistled through the air towards the mage; at the last moment he twisted the blade in midair so the flat of the blade struck Justice solidly in the ribs as he raised his hand to unleash another spell. There was a sickening crack of breaking ribs as the mage staggered to one side; swinging the staff around, Justice unleashed a blast of fire at the elf, who ducked and rolled away. Justice was silent as he gestured at the elf with his hand and Fenris bit back a cry as the lightning bolt struck his chest; he fell to one knee, gritting his teeth against the agonising pain as the energy streaked through his limbs. He phased into intangibility as he leapt forward, Justice's next blast passing harmlessly through him to strike Carver, who collapsed wordlessly as Hawke threw himself forward.
Fenris didn't dare spare a glance for the warrior as he concentrated upon Justice. He was vaguely aware of the shadow beast to his right collapsing and fading in a cloud of sulpherous-smelling smoke as Hawke turned his attentions to the other beast; Bianca sang as three bolts thudded into Justice at shoulder, hip and thigh. Fenris however only had eyes for Justice as he thrust his gauntleted hand into the mage's chest and poured his power into the slender body as his taloned fingers closed around Anders' heart.
Justice threw his head back in a silent scream as his whole body stiffened, the staff falling from nerveless fingers. Slowly the inhuman eyes rolled back into his head and he crumpled backwards to the ground.
Fenris stood over the fallen mage, staring down at him as his chest heaved for breath. He swallowed, throat suddenly thick as he looked down into Anders' unconscious face. A faint trickle of blood was slowly winding its way from one nostril and down the apostate's pale face.
"Is he..." whispered Hawke as he stepped up next to Fenris, Carver limping over to join them.
"He lives," said Fenris quietly as Anders' chest stirred.
"Oh Blondie," said Varric sadly, shaking his head.
Anders stirred and groaned. Pressing his hand to his ribs, he rolled over onto his side and slowly pushed himself up onto his elbow. "Thank you, love," he murmured, opening his eyes slowly and looking up at Fenris.
The elf reached down and helped Anders to his feet. The mage grimaced as the broken ends of his ribs ground together. "I.. I guess they're right," he said weakly as he hung his head. "You never can leave the Wardens." He slowly raised his head, his eyes lifting to Hawke. "I hope I can hold against him. Against them both..."
"I'm not losing you to this," replied Hawke. "I refuse."
"Let's just try not to do that again," replied Varric. "Bianca hates being turned against her friends." Anders nodded, then reeled, slumping against Fenris, lifting his trembling hand from his ribs to clutch at the feathered bolt protruding from his shoulder. The elf gently laid him down as Hawke and Carver knelt beside him. Hawke reached for the crossbow bolt in the mage's shoulder as Carver took a firm hold of the one embedded in his hip; Hawke stared into Anders' eyes, and the mage slowly nodded, gritting his teeth. Hawke and Carver braced themselves then yanked out the bolts in unison; Anders uttered a muffled scream as his body arched in Fenris' arms, then he slumped against the elf, panting raggedly. Carver laid his hand on the remaining bolt in Anders' thigh.
"Ready?" he asked quietly.
"Just get it out," muttered Anders. Varric stripped off a leather glove; Anders willingly took it between his teeth and biting down. He nodded to Carver, who wrenched out the bolt in one smooth motion. Anders threw his head back with another muffled scream and clutched at his leg as blood ran freely over his thigh.
"Give him some lyrium," suggested Varric, pulling out a small vial. Anders shook his head and spat out the glove.
"Don't need it. Don't want it," he muttered. He closed his eyes as he healed himself. They watched in silence; Fenris bent down and gently kissed the mage's brow as the wounds slowly ceased bleeding then closed. Anders' hand fell away from his thigh limply.
"We must stop meeting like this," remarked Fenris with a faint suggestion of a smirk. Anders opened one eye and snorted.
"I now have a great deal of sympathy for pincushions," he replied.
"What exactly happened there?" asked Carver. "I thought Justice was on our side?"
"Justice... was being controlled by Corypheus," Anders replied grimly.
"Can you fight them both off?" asked Hawke, brow furrowing in concern.
"I have to," replied Anders. "I have no choice."
"How many more seals are there?" asked Varric. Hawke shrugged.
"No idea."
"Is there anything we can do to help you fight them off?" asked Carver. "Corypheus is bound with lyrium, isn't he? And spirits like lyrium..."
"I can't down lyrium potions indefinitely," replied Anders. "I'd risk lyrium poisoning. But... it's worth a try, in moderation." He shrugged. "Anything's worth a try right now."
The strange buildings gave way to the more familiar dwarven architecture of the inner keep. They stared around themselves warily as they made their way inwards towards the centre. They paused at the threshold of the innermost room where the next seal awaited them. Hawke glanced around at the others.
"Ready?" he asked, and was met with nods of grim determination. "Right. Let's take the guardians down as quick as we can."
The battle was fierce, but short. As the last guardian fell, Hawke approached the seal as the others gathered round. Fenris and Varric stood beside Anders, who uncorked a lyrium vial. As he held the glass vial up, eyeing the faintly glowing blue liquid, he glanced to Fenris.
"If this doesn't work, you'll have to take me down fast," he warned him quietly. Fenris nodded grimly and placed a hand upon Anders' breast. The mage took a deep breath then downed the bitter liquid in one. He nodded to Hawke, who drew his father's blade.
Brilliant crimson light enveloped Hawke and the blade in a blinding flash of energy, the blade throwing off sparks and flares of light as it absorbed the energies of the seal. Slowly the bright light faded, and the crimson glow of the sword disappated until the metal was cold and dark once more. Hawke glanced over at the mage.
Anders stood with his eyes closed for a little while, frowning. He bowed his head, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. He shook his head briefly, then looked up.
"I'm... alright," he replied in answer to their silently questioning stares. There were audible sighs of relief as they relaxed.
"OK then, let's go," smiled Hawke.
They filed out of the room and walked towards the stairs to the next level but paused as the tower began to tremble, the floor heaving as a deep rumble filled the air, rubble and stones falling in a shower of dust as the companions stumbled to keep their footing.
"He feels the seals weaken. He knows you are close. You must be ready," warned Larius as he limped towards them, skirting around fallen blocks of stone. "What's that?" he said suddenly, glancing behind at the stairs. "Who? No... no. They are here!"
"Who is 'they'?" asked Hawke. "The Carta?"
"No, worse," replied the old Warden, scowling. "More treacherous, more dangerous." His scowl deepened. "The Wardens. They listen to Corypheus. They want to bring him the light."
The companions glanced at each other as Larius began to back away. "Stop them. You must stop them," he warned.
Even as he fled into the shadows, they could hear voices; human voices, accompanied by the sounds of armour.
"Something's happening," a woman's voice said, and a moment later a group of four wardens appeared walking down the stairs. The speaker appeared to be a mage; she was talking to a male warrior who nodded as they trudged down the stairs. "The prison's breaking down," she continued. "But it's stood up to tunnelling before. What can -"
She broke off as they spotted the companions. She stared at Hawke, her eyes widening. "You! You have the key!" she exclaimed. "And you've come through the seals. But how?" The Grey Wardens drew closer, and recognition dawned in the dark-haired mage's green eyes. "Wait – you're Hawke! Stroud told me you met in the Deep Roads. Are you the same one? The child of Malcolm? The Carta said they were close. You must be him." She drew herself up straight. "I am Janeka. I lead this unit of Grey Wardens."
"Senior Warden," said Carver in a respectful tone, stepping forward even as Anders hung back behind Hawke. "Why are you interested in my father?"
"Then you don't know?" said Janeka, surprised. "Without Malcolm, this prison would have fallen thirty years ago."
"Tell me what my father did," demanded Hawke.
"The Grey Wardens built this prison to contain one of the most powerful darkspawn we've ever encountered," answered Janeka as she paced slowly in front of them. "But even the best magic fades. The Wardens need to reinforce the seals." She turned and paced back. "This requires the blood of a mage untainted by... Warden training," she explained slowly. "The last to perform the ritual was your father."
Hawke scowled. "My father was a blood mage?" he exclaimed disbelievingly.
Janeka glanced back over her shoulder. "To avert the Blights, forbidden magics are sometimes necessary," she answered. Behind Hawke, Anders made a faint strangled sound in the back of his throat. Hawke shook his head as Carver answered, "For us, maybe. Our father knew better."
"He did not bind the demons, if that is your concern," Janeka said dismissively. "That was done in another era, before the Chantry laws."
"So that's why the Carta came after us," replied Hawke, narrowing his eyes at the Warden mage.
"We need your help, Hawke," she said coolly. "I have done extensive research on this darkspawn and I believe the original Wardens were wrong." She turned back, her expression grave yet earnest. "He isn't a threat to humanity – he's our greatest opportunity. A darkspawn who can talk, feel, reason..."
"Corypheus cares nothing for Blights," growled Larius, emerging from the shadows. "He used you!"
"The Warden Commander!" exclaimed the silver-haired warrior Grey Warden.
"Don't listen to this... creature!" sneered Janeka dismissively. "He's half darkspawn himself! I know how to harness Corypheus, use his magic to end the Blights."
"No!" objected Larius with a negating jerk of his hand. "The Wardens knew. Corypheus is too powerful."
"Don't do it, Hawke," Anders urged nervously. "You can't trust a darkspawn to honour any deal."
"Worth the risk," shrugged Varric. "If he doesn't help, it's one more big darkspawn to stick a bolt in. No big deal."
"There are rules to the order," argued Carver. "And with good reason. Father wouldn't want this."
"Corypheus calls her, and she listens," hissed Larius, his Blighted eyes narrowed as he turned to Hawke. "She brought him the Carta, sent them for you."
"Stroud wouldn't let me have your brother," Janeka shrugged, as Carver's eyes widened in shock, "I need you!"
Hawke frowned at Janeka. "Why would this darkspawn want to end the Blights?" he demanded aggressively, stepping closer to the Warden mage, aware how intimidating his greater height seemed.
Janeka stood her ground. "He is no mindless monster," she replied. "This search for the Old Gods comes at a terrible cost to his people."
"This sounds very familiar," Anders said, shaking his head.
"He tricked you!" protested Larius to Janeka. "These are not your thoughts; they are his Calling."
Janeka glared at him. "How many of them died in Ferelden alone?" she threw back at him. "And that was the least of the Blights!"
"But how can you trust any deal this darkspawn makes with you?" asked Hawke, shaking his head.
"Do not think me foolish, Hawke," replied Janeka, holding up a hand. "I am making no deal. I have a spell which can control Corypheus, bind him to my will." She smiled grimly. "He will be a new, important weapon in the war on the Blights. No more, no less."
"You're talking blood magic again," said Hawke darkly.
"Everything that was done to him was through the power of blood," answered Janeka. "The Wardens imprisoned Corypheus before the Chantry banned such magic. It is the only way to hold him."
"You're not helping the case for releasing him," observed Carver, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Hawke, who folded his arms and stared at Janeka grimly.
"Corypheus may be as great a threat as the next Blight," Hawke stated flatly. "We can't risk freeing him."
Janeka glared hostilely at the brothers. "We'll find a way to do this with or without you, Hawke," she spat. "This prison will be broken. The Blights will end!" She backed away steadily, unslinging her grey staff as she looked to the other Wardens. "Come!" A ball of fire coalesced in her open palm even as Anders whirled and brought his own staff to bear, the words of a shielding spell already upon his lips as Fenris and Varric unslung their weapons. Hawke glared grimly at the Wardens as he and Carver moved forward as one.
"With me!" cried Larius as Janeka's fireball burst harmlessly across Anders' shield. "We will beat them to the seal!"
With a last glance back at the Wardens as they fled back up the stairs, Hawke nodded grimly.
The race was on.