A/N: Hello everybody! I'm very sorry for not having this chapter up sooner, August was a horribly busy month and I wasn't able to get any extra things done unfortunately. But now that the summer is over I should be able to update much more regularly.
As always, thanks to all those who have favorited and followed so far - it's great to know you're enjoying the story, and I'd love to hear from you too!
Special thanks go to those who reviewed the last chapter: XZanayu, Valtharia, Barleyguy, and This is not a Fanfiction, who was the lucky winner of the 100th reviewer gift fic! Also thanks to guest reviewers Halberd Vixen and spartandjb, thanks for the reviews and I'm glad you're enjoying it so far!
Please review guys! I will be doing another gift fic for the 150th reviewer!
Anyway, this chapter is once again fairly heavy on the DA plot, but as always, I try to put my own spin on it and add in extra bits as much as I can. Hope you all enjoy it, and of course I don't own DA or its dialogue, just Ayla and the rest of the fic.
Chapter 35: Of Carta Queens and Paragons
As Aedan swung open the door and they all slipped into the room, Alistair heard him advising Zevran and Leliana in low voices to keep an eye out for more traps in this last room. Judging by the number of traps they'd come across in this hideout so far, it was likely that this room would be covered in them as well. The two rogues nodded, and slipped in ahead of Alistair, Ayla, and Morrigan, flanking Aedan as he went first into the room.
He stopped a little ways into the large stone room, with its flagged stone floors and walls. Alistair noticed why almost immediately; across from the entrance, in the center of the room in the middle of four stone pillars, stood a dark-haired female dwarf in splintmail armor with a brand on her face. She was surrounded by several other dwarves, all fairly heavily armed. Some stood next to her, others on the two stairwells that went up on either side behind the pillars where she stood, probably to other rooms or another way out.
A manic smile spread across her face as she spotted them. "So Bhelen finally realized his throne means nothing if he can't hold it, yet he still doesn't bother to send his own men. Well you picked the wrong side, strangers. It doesn't matter who's king, as long as there's a queen!"
"You seem awfully calm considering we've just laid waste to your entire carta on our way here," Aedan retorted coolly.
Jarvia's eyes narrowed as she glared at him. "You'll pay for their deaths a hundred times over," she stated with cold certainty. Gesturing to her fighters as she pulled out dual single-bladed axes, she called out, "Kill them! But leave the mouthy one alive: I have plans for him."
"The mouthy one?" Aedan muttered as he drew his sword. "Is she talking about me?"
"Well, you did taunt her," Alistair pointed out in a low voice, readying his own sword and shield as the bandits raced towards them. "You might want to watch what you say next time."
"I'll keep that in mind," Aedan grunted as he caught Jarvia's axes on his sword. She whirled and swung at him again, and the two were soon engaged in a swift and brutal dance.
Alistair did a quick check of the room as he caught the sword of another dwarf that had been aiming for Aedan's back on his shield. He spotted Zevran crouched on the ground between the pillars, presumably disarming a trap, while Leliana covered him, firing arrows at any bandits that came near. Morrigan was alternating between firing ice blasts and paralyzing spells at the bandits. Ayla, he noticed, had already left one bandit dead behind her and was fighting another with single-minded zeal.
Relieved that she was all right for the moment, he focused entirely on the bandit in front of him, blocking the swings of his sword and watching for an opening. It didn't take too long before he found one; he slammed his shield forward, catching the unfortunate dwarf full in the face, and while he was still reeling from the blow, Alistair ran his sword straight through his chest, pulling it back out even as the dwarf fell to the ground.
Before he'd even had a second to gather himself, another dwarf was upon him, this one wielding dual swords. They seemed to be springing out of the walls, there were so many of them, he thought as he dodged back from the first swing.
This fight took a little bit longer, but he'd seen Ayla and Zevran fight often enough to have noticed the patterns and weaknesses inherent in the dual fighting style. And this bandit was nowhere near their skill level, so he was eventually able to find a gap to strike just as some smoke drifted past him. He wondered vaguely if one of the bandits had employed a smoke bomb like Zevran sometimes liked to use, but decided not to worry about it as he continued fighting.
He had just dealt the finishing blow to the dwarf in front of him when he felt something stab into his side through a gap in his plate armor, a sudden, searing pain spreading from the wound. He grunted and staggered in surprise for one brief second before whirling, catching the offender in the face with a blow from his shield.
It was Jarvia who stumbled back, smirking at him as she pulled out her dual axes again and dodged the swing of his sword before lashing out with her own strike. He caught the blows with sword and shield, just barely. The throbbing pain in his right side was slowing down his sword arm. "Nice reflexes, pretty boy," she taunted, swinging again.
Pretty boy? Alistair wondered, even as he blocked her again, albeit sluggishly. He was starting to feel a little dizzy and off-balance, which didn't make any sense. Yes, the dagger still stuck in his side hurt, but it shouldn't be serious enough to cause him any lasting damage. He heard Ayla scream his name suddenly as he just barely dodged another blow and stumbled, his legs feeling unsteady.
And then, as he swung at Jarvia and missed, noticing the smug smirk the dwarf wore, Ayla was there behind her in a sudden blur, driving her swords home through the dwarf's back and yanking them out viciously. Alistair could see the shock pass across Jarvia's face before she turned unsteadily to face the blazing fury on Ayla's face. "Die like the honorless scum you are," Ayla snarled at her.
The dwarf gurgled out a laugh and mumbled out a reply that Alistair didn't quite catch through the whirling dizziness threatening to overtake his head, before she fell face-first to the ground. Ayla stared down at her body coldly before she muttered, seemingly in response to Jarvia, "I never said I was."
Alistair stumbled down to one knee, catching himself from falling completely with his sword. What was wrong with him? he wondered distantly, unable to properly focus on anything. Ayla was there in front of him in the next second, worry shining out of her face. "Alistair!" she cried.
"I'm fine," he reassured her, wondering why his words sounded so slurred. "It's not a serious wound. At least, it shouldn't be . . ." he trailed off, confused.
Her eyes widened before she turned, shouting for Morrigan and . . . Zevran? What in the Maker's name was going on? The others, all except for Leliana, came hurrying towards them, meaning the battle must be finished now. Alistair grunted in surprise when he felt the dagger being yanked out of his side.
He turned to his right to see Zevran sniffing the dagger blade before nodding and tossing it aside, reaching in his pouch and pulling out a vial. "It is indeed poison," he said. "Fortunately, I've been carrying a few antidotes with me lately for just such an occasion."
"Poison?" Alistair muttered faintly, watching as Ayla took the vial from Zevran and crouched down in front of him. "I suppose that makes sense."
"Just be quiet and drink this," Ayla said hurriedly, her voice unsteady, and seeing the fear and worry in her eyes, he merely nodded, allowing her to help him drink the vial.
"Sorry, Alistair," Aedan crouched down in front of him as well, guilt etched across his face. "She used a smoke bomb and got away from me. I didn't see where she went, and one of the other bandits was on me in the next second."
Alistair finished swallowing the last bit of the foul-tasting antidote before he met Aedan's eyes, noticing the blood dripping down his side from the gap in the underarm of his plate armor. Morrigan was just beginning a healing spell to fix it. "Don't worry about it," he told Aedan. "It's not your fault. I'm actually . . . feeling a little better already."
To his surprise, he actually was; the sluggish feeling in his body and the dizzy fuzziness of his head were already starting to clear. The antidote Zevran had made must have been fast-acting, he thought, impressed despite himself with the elf. The wound in his side was still throbbing a bit, but it was nothing compared to other wounds he'd gotten. He smiled at Ayla, who was studying him closely, the worry still clear on her face. "See, I told you it was nothing serious."
She scowled and shoved lightly at his chest, nearly knocking him off-balance again. "How many times do I have to tell you not to joke about things like this?!"
"I'm sorry, love," he apologized, noticing how upset she still looked, "but really, I'm feeling much better. Thank you, Zevran," he added as an afterthought, looking over at the elf.
"Think nothing of it, my friend," Zevran replied, shrugging. "I would not want my goddess to be upset, after all."
"Thank you, Zev," Ayla added, as Morrigan moved to heal the wound in Alistair's side now, having finished with Aedan. "I really appreciate it."
Zevran waved off her gratitude as Morrigan's healing spell spread through Alistair's wound and Aedan straightened up. "Well, we've managed to defeat Jarvia and the carta, at any rate. I think we can wait until the morning to report to Bhelen, though. We might as well head back to Tapster's and get some rest."
Leliana came up to them then, having been scouting the room, saying, "I found a passageway through one of those doors back there that I think is an exit. There's also a room across from it that must be Jarvia's office. It has some supplies and money we could take."
Aedan nodded. "All right, we'll take everything we can carry from here and check out this passageway. Are you up to moving now, Alistair?"
"Yes, I think I'm fine now," Alistair answered, Morrigan's spell having already finished. He went to push himself to his feet, Ayla hurrying to help support him as he stood. He still felt a little wobbly and dizzy, but otherwise back to normal. "I'm impressed with how fast your antidote worked, Zevran."
The elf grinned. "Ah, the Crows are as equally effective at treating poisons as we are at making them. After all, what good is an assassin who gets himself poisoned?"
"Good point, I suppose," Alistair allowed, as they followed Aedan to the room that was Jarvia's office. He went to help the others as they began looting the chests in the office, but Ayla glared pointedly at him and he sighed, going to lean against the wall outside instead until they were finished.
Once they'd collected everything they could hold, they made their way over to the passageway. Leliana and Zevran took the lead, just in case there were any more traps, while Morrigan and Aedan followed them, and he and Ayla took up the rear. She insisted on supporting him as he walked, though he didn't really think that he needed it.
"I really wish you'd stop doing that to me," Ayla murmured when the others were far enough ahead not to hear.
"I'm sorry," he replied softly, looking down at her. She was staring straight ahead, not meeting his eyes. "I didn't intend to get stabbed with a poison dagger, you know."
She sighed. "I know, I just . . ." she shook her head, not finishing the sentence. After another moment, she said quietly, "Are we going to make it out of this alive?"
Realistically, he knew he should tell her he didn't know. Because honestly, he had no idea, and really, the odds weren't very good. But he also knew that wasn't what she wanted - and needed - to hear right now. So he pulled her a little closer and said simply, "Yes, we are."
She nodded, and after a moment, looked up at him and smiled. "Good, because I'm not done with you yet."
He grinned in response. "Well, I should certainly hope that you're not."
At that moment, they heard the sound of falling rock just ahead, followed by the sound of someone shouting, "By all the beards of my ancestors! How did you – where did you come from?! Y-you made a hole in my wall!"
They hurried ahead, coming around the bend in the passageway to see that the cave wall before them had a hole in it, beyond which lay . . . the smithery? The dwarven smith Alistair had earlier purchased weapons from was the irate dwarf who was shouting at their party as they emerged from the passageway.
Aedan crossed his arms, staring the dwarf down. "That hole leads to a tunnel in the carta's hideout. You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the carta, would you?"
"No!" the smith cried in what sounded like genuine shock and alarm. "I don't have anything to do with them! They're criminals! When they built this part of the city, they must have built over some tunnels. I swear, I had no idea."
Aedan turned to glance back at Ayla, who nodded. He turned back to the smith, saying, "In that case, we apologize for the intrusion. We did not realize where the tunnel would lead to."
The dwarf scowled, shaking his head. "Aw, just leave me alone. I don't want anything to do with this. And if anyone comes asking, I'm gonna tell them you did it!"
Aedan shrugged. "Feel free to do so. We will explain to Prince Bhelen that you were not involved, and the location of the exit was a mere coincidence. Come on, let's go," he added to the others, heading for the door of the smithery, as the smith stared woefully at the hole in his wall behind them.
They followed Aedan as he led them through the commons back towards Tapsters. Though he was feeling a good deal better, Alistair was still more than ready for a night of rest. Then, in the morning, they could report to Bhelen and be on their way. He might even get to spend a little time alone with Ayla before they left, he reflected. That would certainly go a long way to making their stay here better. And perhaps, if he was lucky, what he had said to her about the Blight would prove true, and they would both make it through alive. It was what he wished for more than anything, and as they went to sleep that night, he prayed fervently to the Maker that it would come to pass.
The next morning, Alistair and Aedan went to visit Bhelen at the palace to report their success in defeating Jarvia and her carta. They left the others behind at the tavern, intending to come back as soon as they had the promise of their troops and leave Orzammar to begin the month-long trip back to Redcliffe.
When the two of them entered Bhelen's study, he beamed at them. "Well, you've simply outdone yourself. They're talking all over the city about how someone finally went through Dust Town and slaughtered the carta like genlocks."
Alistair frowned, not sure if he was comfortable with that description, even though they had killed all of the bandits. Aedan shrugged and replied coolly, "Well, they were criminals. At any rate, we did as you asked. Do you have the troops promised in return?"
"Not yet," was Bhelen's reply, making Alistair groan inwardly. What could the Prince possibly want now? "Killing Jarvia brought me greater favour," the dwarf continued, "but to truly displace Harrowmont, we'll need something dramatic enough to end the debate forever. What do you know of the Paragon Branka?"
Alistair vaguely recalled hearing the name. They had heard various rumours at the tavern and around the city itself during their time here, including rumours about Branka being missing. But what did that have to do with anything? Aedan was frowning as he answered, "We had heard some rumours about her being a smith and inventor who disappeared in the Deep Roads."
Bhelen nodded. "She is the only Paragon in four generations and she turned her back on her responsibilities. A Paragon is like an ancestor born in this time. If she returned, her vote would outweigh the entire Assembly. Anyone with her support could take the throne unchallenged."
Oh no, Alistair thought in despair, suddenly realizing what Bhelen was after. He wanted them to go in the Deep Roads again?! Going down there had been even worse than he'd expected, and he had not wanted to return there ever again if he could help it. He knew Aedan felt the same way. And to find someone who had disappeared down there? That would take a good deal longer than their previous foray to track down someone who'd only been down there a few days. Why couldn't fulfilling these treaties just be easy for once?!
"What makes you think she's still alive?" Aedan demanded of the dwarven prince. "Surviving in the Deep Roads is no easy task."
"She had an entire house with her, dedicated to her protection," Bhelen answered. "With the number of ruins still intact, they could last for a long time. And Harrowmont is looking as well. It's too risky to assume she's dead only to have him take credit for finding her." He looked at Aedan significantly, waiting for his reply.
Aedan held up his hand, indicating that Bhelen should wait for a minute, as he pulled Alistair a little further away, whispering, "What do you think?" once they were out of earshot.
"I think I'd rather get stabbed with a poison dagger again than go down into the Deep Roads looking for some dwarven woman who's probably dead," Alistair grumbled in a low voice. Before Aedan could reply, he sighed and went on, "But I don't see what choice we have. We need Bhelen to give us our troops, and he can't do that until he gets the throne."
Aedan nodded slowly, looking as miserable at the prospect as Alistair felt. "And from what we heard on the way over here, it sounds like the nobility is still pretty split, even with what we've done so far. I hate the thought of going down there as much as you do, but you're right. We have no choice if we want the troops that will help us defeat this Blight. We'll just . . . have to deal with it, I guess."
Alistair nodded miserably, and they went back over to Bhelen. "If it will finally get us our troops, we will find her for you," Aedan informed the dwarf. "But keep in mind, this will be the last favour we will perform for you."
Bhelen nodded, as though he had expected this to be a stipulation of their agreement. "If you bring her back, then you will most certainly get all the troops you could possibly hope for," the dwarven prince replied, "and we will all go down in history as a Paragon's saviours. So far, my men have traced Branka to Caridin's Cross; an ancient crossroad lost to the darkspawn four centuries ago."
He took a scroll of parchment, presumably a map, off the nearby desk, and handed it to Aedan, who took it and stored it in his pouch. "Her trail ends there," the dwarf went on. "Perhaps with your Warden's expertise, you can find what my men could not."
"We will leave today," Aedan replied curtly.
"You have my thanks," Bhelen replied, bowing to them. "Seek her in Caridin's Cross. I will try to delay the vote until you return."
Aedan nodded, before turning to leave the Palace. Alistair followed, trying to think as he went of any way he could get Ayla to remain behind this time. She'd hated it down there as much as he had, and the deeper they went down there, the more chance they risked of one of their other companions getting tainted by the darkspawn. So far, they had been lucky, but the more darkspawn they encountered, the greater the risk became. And if something happened to her - no, he couldn't even think of it without feeling sick.
"Do you think we could go alone to search for Branka?" he asked Aedan quietly as they made their way through the Quarter and headed back to Tapsters.
Aedan shook his head, looking grim. "I doubt it. You know as well as I do it would be far too risky. We need the help of the others, even if the risk to them is much higher this time. I don't like it," he sighed, shaking his head, "but we'll never convince either of them to stay behind."
Alistair nodded, unsurprised that Aedan had been thinking along the same lines as him, and knowing that he was likely right. Nevertheless, he was going to try to convince her to stay behind. He couldn't do anything else.
They reached the tavern to find the others all seated around a table while Zevran tried to teach them how to play some sort of Antivan card game. Well, he was trying to teach most of them. Sten was merely watching with an impassive expression on his face, while Wynne was watching with a sort of fascinated horror as Zevran explained the rules, which included something about betting with one's clothes.
They all looked up when Aedan and Alistair approached; Ayla was smiling, looking as though she were greatly enjoying herself, but her expression fell when she met his eyes, clearly realizing that things had not gone according to plan. Aedan explained what had occurred during their meeting with Bhelen, and that this was the last favour they had to perform before fulfilling the treaty and getting the troops they needed. He also explained that it would likely be a much longer expedition into the Deep Roads this time, and that they could really use as much help as they could get, but he would still not order anyone to come.
"I would, however, be eternally grateful to those of you who do choose to come," Aedan went on. "And though I am reluctant to ask this, it would be best if we could have as much healing power as possible down in the Deep Roads. So, Wynne, Morrigan, if you could both come –"
"Of course I will," Wynne interrupted him. "I feel a good deal more refreshed now that I've had a few days' rest, and if you will be down in the Deep Roads for many weeks, you will certainly need the aid."
Morrigan was silent for a minute, and Alistair almost wondered if she was going to refuse, when she said, "I cannot leave the safety of Ferelden solely in the hands of a meddlesome old Circle mage. I will come along as well."
"I will come too," Leliana added, smiling. "I came on this journey to help you, after all. I will not turn you down now."
"Same here," Ayla said quietly, though her expression was carefully blank. "What sort of companion would I be if I turned back now?"
"It sounds like a glorious tale of adventure!" Zevran exclaimed, throwing his hands up, and Alistair suspected he was trying to cheer Ayla up, a suspicion confirmed when he threw a wink her way before going on, "What sort of assassin would I be if I was afraid to die?"
"I do not fear death," Sten stated, "and if we are to meet many darkspawn on this venture, as you say we will, then that is the reason I came. I will not miss this opportunity either. Perhaps we will even encounter the archdemon at last."
"By Andraste, I hope not," Aedan muttered under his breath, before saying out loud, "Thank you, all of you. I appreciate this more than you could ever know. Let's all gather our supplies and meet back down here in a few minutes. We will be leaving right away."
The others nodded as they all headed for their rooms, and once again, Alistair followed Ayla back up to their room to get his pack ready. He didn't say anything to her on the way up, trying to think of how he could convince her to stay behind. When they reached the room and had closed the door behind them, he turned to her.
"Don't even start with me, Alistair," she snapped, holding up her hand to stop him from talking. "If you so much as imply you want me to stay behind, I will hit you."
He sighed, shaking his head. Maker, he knew she was stubborn, but really? "I – just wanted to stay you don't have to feel obligated to come. I know that you hate it in the Deep Roads, and it makes you uncomfortable, and this will be a far longer trip –"
She slammed her hands into his armored chest, hard enough that he actually fell back a couple of steps. "You hate it down there, and it's far more uncomfortable for you than it is for me! So just stop right there! This is not about feeling obligated or anything stupid like that –" she stopped, taking a few deep breaths in an obvious attempt to calm herself down. "The only way you'll convince me to stay behind is if you stay behind with me."
For a brief second, he actually considered it, but he knew he couldn't do that to Aedan. "You know I can't," he said quietly.
"Then you have your answer," she replied coldly, shoving her things into her pack, not looking at him. "Don't bring it up again."
"I'm sorry," he said at last, as he finished preparing his own pack and slung it over his shoulders. "I knew it would upset you when I brought it up. It's just – the risk of you becoming tainted is much higher with the length of time we'll be down in the Deep Roads. And – the only cure for the taint, if it even works, is the Joining, and I don't know how the Joining works. So if you get tainted, that's it, and if that happened . . . . . I would never be able to forgive myself for bringing you down there. For being the reason you were down there. So - because I love you – I had to try."
She had finished up her own pack while he had been talking, slinging it over her shoulders as well, and had turned to watch him partway through his explanation. When he finished, she sighed. "By the Fox, Alistair, how am I supposed to stay mad at you?"
He smiled in spite of himself, because just hearing her say that made him feel oddly better about this whole thing. "Well, obviously, you're not. How can you be expected to resist my charms?"
She shook her head and smiled. "How indeed?" She walked over to him and tapped his chest. "Just remember this: I will always go where you go, no matter the danger. So if you want me to be safe, then you have to be somewhere safe. Otherwise we'll just have to be in danger together. That is how it is going to work, understand?"
Yes, he decided, he loved her more every day he knew her. He had not thought it possible, but it was. He wrapped an arm around her waist and yanked her towards him, claiming her mouth in a scorching kiss as he tangled his other hand in her hair. He kissed her with a desperate hunger, truly afraid this might be the last time he ever got to do this, and she answered in kind, clinging to him, tugging on his hair with her arms tight around his neck.
When she moaned low in her throat with need, his own need spiked that much higher, and somehow he ended up pressing her into the door, nibbling on her neck, needing to taste her. He was losing himself in that taste, sweeter than the best things he'd ever had, when someone pounded on the door, making both of them jump and pull apart.
"You'd better not be doing what I think you're doing," Aedan called through the door, "because we're leaving right now and not a minute later."
Ayla stepped away from the door, nodding to him as she tried to steady her breathing, and he tried to ignore the heat still lurking in her eyes as he opened the door to Aedan. "Of course we're leaving right now," he replied, silently cursing how breathless he sounded.
Aedan raised his eyebrows, studying them both thoroughly. "Uh-huh. Well, let's get going then." He turned and headed down to the tavern, leaving them both to follow behind him.
They did, and Ayla whispered as they went along, "You know we didn't fool him in the slightest."
Alistair grinned, feeling inexplicably light-hearted at the moment. "I know. Maker, do I need to get you alone at a better time."
"Yes, you do," she agreed fervently. "Perhaps we will be able to carve out a few minutes in the Deep Roads one night if we are lucky."
"Let's hope so," he replied. He had been far too long without her by now, and he didn't know how much longer he could go without losing his sanity. He would have to see if he could find a way to keep them alone and safe for a few minutes at least.
They met up with the others down in the tavern, and Aedan led them out and towards the entrance to the Deep Roads that they had used last time. They stopped briefly at one of the merchant's stalls on the way out, buying more food and potions to hopefully last the entire time they would be down there.
They had almost reached the guards who were stationed at the entrance to the Deep Roads when a dwarf stumbled into their path, halting Aedan's progress. He was red-haired, with an elaborately braided bread, and a truly impressive set of silver plate armor accented with blue. He had an equally impressive double-bladed battleaxe strapped to his back.
"Stranger!" he slurred, weaving and attempting to focus on Aedan. "Have you seen a Grey Warden hereabouts? I've been privy to the rumour that he – or was it she – you understand this was many mugs ago – was searching for Branka on Prince Bhelen's own command."
"Oh? What does this Grey Warden look like?" Aedan asked, with an air of great seriousness. Alistair was barely able to suppress a snort of laughter, and neither Ayla nor Zevran bothered to try, both of them chuckling quietly. Fortunately, the dwarf didn't seem to notice.
The dwarf appeared to consider for a moment before he began, "Stout and muscular, fair of face, but with a strong jaw and a bold nose, surrounded by a great glowing nimbus."
"Well, he's not wrong," Ayla whispered in Alistair's ear, and this time, he couldn't help but laugh.
"Are you referring to me or Aedan?" he asked her softly.
She grinned at him. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"If she's a woman," the dwarf was continuing in his slurred fashion, "she might be more slight, but her eyes will shine with the light of purity and her large but chaste bosom will heave magnificently. I've been looking for hours, but I haven't seen anyone who looks like that. Very frustrating," he concluded with a shake of his head, while the majority of the party was shaking with suppressed laughter by this point.
Aedan pretended to consider for a moment before shaking his head and replying with an admirably straight face, "Sorry, I don't think I've seen anyone that looks like that."
The dwarf paused for a moment before his eyes narrowed suddenly and he focused more sharply on Aedan – and the fact that he had to look up to meet Aedan's eyes. "Hey, hold off here. Wardens and their staff are the only non-dwarves who've been allowed in the city lately. Does that mean that you –" gesturing to Aedan – "or one of them – " looking suspiciously at the rest of them – "are a Warden?"
"Well, I suppose you caught me," Aedan replied, grinning. "Yes, I am a Warden, and so is he." He nodded to Alistair, standing just behind him.
The dwarf studied Aedan for a moment, then Alistair, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Huh. I have to say, from all the tales, I was expecting something a little more impressive." He shrugged. "Eh, but I guess standards aren't what they used to be. Say, could I ask you a favour?"
Aedan sighed heavily. "Why not? Everyone else does."
"Name's Oghren, and if you've ever heard of me before, it's probably all been about how I piss ale and kill little boys who look at me wrong," the dwarf introduced himself, laughing slightly before continuing, "And that's mostly true, but the part they never say is how I'm the only one still trying to save our only Paragon. And if you're looking for Branka, I'm the only one who knows what she was looking for, which might be pretty sodding helpful in finding her."
Well, Alistair thought, if this dwarf had some information that could narrow down their search, that was quite possibly the best news he'd heard all day. Aedan, seemingly thinking along similar lines, replied, "If you do indeed have some information, it would be helpful, yes. Just what do you want in return for this information?"
"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," Oghren stated, suddenly sounding a good deal more sober than he had initially.
Aedan turned to look at Alistair, who nodded slightly. Any help was welcome, as far as he was concerned. Ayla nodded as well when Aedan looked to her. Turning back to Oghren, Aedan said, "All right, it sounds like we have a deal."
Oghren nodded before continuing, "You should know that Branka was looking for the Anvil of the Void, the secret to building golems, which was lost centuries ago. 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."
Aedan sighed again. "Marvellous. Why is it, anyway, that you're so determined to go find her?"
"We're married," the dwarf retorted. "Of course I'm sodding well determined to find her."
Alistair frowned, not understanding how Oghren could possibly have let his wife go alone into the Deep Roads. He would never have let Ayla go anywhere so dangerous without him, and they weren't even married yet. Unable to help his curiosity, he blurted out, "If you're married, why aren't you out there with Branka?"
Oghren scowled at him. "Why do you sodding think? She left me! Ran off and took our entire sodding house on her mad quest for the Anvil! It was a stupid move." He sighed and went on in a tone of regret, "If I'd been with her, she'd have made it back years ago. But I forgive her."
"Well, we should probably get going," Aedan said after a moment of awkward silence. "The sooner we begin, the sooner we can find Branka – hopefully."
Oghren nodded, turning toward the entrance to the Deep Roads. "Great. Once we're there, I should be able to pick up Branka's trail, no trouble. Lead on."
Aedan made his way towards the entrance to the Deep Roads, and they all followed, their new dwarven ally included. Alistair was a good deal more hopeful now that their mission to find Branka might actually succeed with Oghren's help. He was determined to make his earlier statement to Ayla come true – they would make it through this Blight alive, if he had anything to say about it.