All Fall Down
By: SurreptitiousFox245

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Elder Scrolls. All rights go to their respective peoples. I only own my original characters and my plot. I am only borrowing everything else for my own amusement.

Quick Author's Note: Wow. Another chapter. I'm on a roll. I hope I didn't just jinx it. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Also, I'm trying to figure out theme songs for all of my original characters. Anyone have any ideas for Dand and Lys? I'd be happy to hear them – I'm kinda stuck. I was thinking "This is Gonna Hurt" by Sixx:A.M. for Dand and maybe "Broken" by One Less Reason or "The Unforgiven II" by Metallica for Lys. I dunno, though. They still don't seem quite right. Might just be the genres I tend to listen to though…eh. Who knows?

Well, enjoy!


"Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. Silence is your answer."

~ Javik "Mass Effect 3: From Ashes DLC"


Chapter 4


~Thedas 9:34 Dragon~


You waited patiently once more in a tavern for Dand to arrive. The only differences that time around were that you did not have a drink in your hands, it was a different tavern, and it was the middle of Harvestmere instead of Drakonis. And, you smirked as you crossed your right leg carelessly over your left; you had just successfully completed a job. It was a job that even the tall, unimpressionable Fereldan would find words of praise for.

The news that you had received from your right-hand man several months ago had been shocking, but in the end you had been pleased with the development, if not a bit suspicious. The Hero of Ferelden had purchased information from you. It wasn't every day that a broker, an entity that worked primarily through Thedas' underground, did business with a person with as much status as Nerys Aeducan. Though it did make you a bit nervous, the more business-oriented side of you recognized that if someone raised with the morals of dwarven nobility felt comfortable buying from you, it usually meant both that your name had reached the higher-echelons of society and that it had reached it with a good reputation.

As Dand had suspected, the bid placed for the Carta information in Starkhaven had only been done so as to get your attention. Logically, you would research the people making bids so you could accurately deliver information to the buyers, which you had to do with Nerys' just like with all the others (well, Dand had actually done the snooping, but the identity of 'Griffon' had reached you, nonetheless). After discussing pros and cons with your Fereldan accomplice, you had decided to deliver the warden's hard-bought stolen records personally. Without further preamble, Dand had agreed to accompany you to the keep in Amaranthine the following morning subtly with Bloodlight under guise of the mercenary company touring the center of Grey Warden activity. Dand had mentioned offhandedly that he also had a cousin in the Wardens he could pass off as visiting if the "tourists" idea didn't work. You had looked at him skeptically, but his refusal to say more on the subject cued you to just let it drop.

At dawn the two of you had set off, you in the shadows while Dand confidently led Bloodlight towards the looming walls that housed the Hero of Ferelden. You could still remember Dot, the resident Orlesian human healer who expertly disguised himself as an archer, of all things, darting his eyes about with rapt curiosity while scolding a still-injured Tegna to be careful not to reopen the gash on her thigh. Also following had been Milana, the group's elven battlemage-disguised-as-a-spear-wielding-warrior who took a rather frightening offensive stance to compliment Dot's supporting role. The little elf had been silently fuming at all of the Shems walking about the city, and you had found the young woman's ire towards humans a taxing quality derived from growing up in a Nevarran alienage.

At any rate, you had snuck into the keep with minimal difficulty while Bloodlight loitered around the front gate, noting a strange lack of guards that hadn't seemed so strange once you finally met face-to-face with Warden-Commander Aeducan. The stout woman had offered an almost coy smile and bit out a chuckled admission that she had been waiting for you.

You exchanged the information, and, as you had predicted, Nerys stated that she hadn't laid down the trail of breadcrumbs just for information on Carta activity that, in all honesty, hadn't really concerned her, the Wardens, or Ferelden as a whole in the first place. The woman had simply wanted to speak with you face to face, and figured placing a bid of ridiculous proportions like she had would have been the best way to do it.

Needless to say, it had worked.

You came out of your musings rather quickly when a familiar light gait passed by you and a burdened THUNK indicated a heavily armored form dropping gracelessly into the usual chair across the table, "Elyssa." You snorted, but more at the irony of how close the voice was for once to actually guessing your name.

"Moron," you greeted in turn with sarcasm lacing your tone as you crossed your arms and casually bounced your right leg a few times. "Again, if you're going to guess my name, please have it make sense."

Dand rested his armored elbows on the table with the usual loud clamoring that came from metal grating on wood, "Ay, moron? Was that really necessary, Sighs?" The hurt in the giant of a man's voice was a little too forced, and you rolled your eyes at it from behind your mask.

"I only call them as I see them, Dand. Now, how are things? Any updates?"

"I reckon I should be askin' you that, 'Ryllie. You did send a letter, after all," said Dand, his voice screaming of a victorious smirk that you suddenly wanted to wipe off of his face along with the newest nickname the warrior had concocted for you. Then again, deriving it from "Amaryllis" was considerably better than if he had decided to call you something along the lines of "Brokie" like he'd tried threatening.

You sighed, "Right, use my own words against me. Nice. The job went well, all things considering. I found some leads on some information I had been searching for myself, and I gave Griffon the reports about the state of the Deep Roads that she asked for. It was a win-win situation all around. Speaking of Griffon…" You reached into one of the many black leather pouches hooked to your, again, black leather belt that encircled your hips and pulled out a moderately sized coin purse that jingled with what you knew to be a handsome amount of gold and silver.

Grinning, you slid the purse towards Dand, who snatched it up warily and pocketed it, "This is your share. I figured Bloodlight deserved a little extra in their monthly 'donation'. I was certainly paid enough."

"Andraste's ass," Dand grumbled, "please tell me there's a lot of copper in there. Please."

You smiled sweetly, though it couldn't be seen, "Nope. All gold and silver, I'm afraid. Don't spend it all in one place, hmm?"

Dand groaned some other garbled curse as he scrubbed a large, gauntleted hand over his face. Laughing quietly at his new conundrum of figuring out a valid excuse to the other members of Bloodlight as to where the sudden large sum of money came from, you fiddled absently with the leather arm guard fastened around your right forearm.

"So, why exactly did she have you scoutin' the Deep Roads?" Dand frowned once he came out of his ponderings. "Sounds like somethin' more suited to be left for the Wardens themselves, not a freelance broker whose loyalty and information could be bought quicker than a Templar after a blood mage."

Nodding, you reached into one of the gazillion-and-one pouches hidden in and along your handy belt and pulled out a small roll of parchment – scribbled across with information on the job. You passed it to Dand, satisfied when he didn't rush to read it in such a public place, and leaned forward so the Fereldan could hear your lowered voice, "Turns out, Griffon and her little group during the Blight found a…particularly special anvil in an ancient thaig that dated to the First Blight..." You tapped your fingers against the table, silently urging Dand to get the reference you were making, as well as providing yourself with a kind of conduit to give you a hazy image of his face.

It didn't take long for his grey eyes to widen, "You mean they found - !?"

"Yes!" you hissed, slapping a hand over his mouth. "Now keep it down, fool! This table is secluded, but people can still hear you!" Thankfully, you hadn't felt any eyes turn to the two of you in your little corner thanks to the minor commotion. Small miracles, you supposed.

He nodded. Removing your hand with a sigh, you continued, "Anyway, they blocked out the passage, but they wanted to make sure it was still sealed off. Word about that group from Kirkwall going pretty far beneath the surface got a few of Griffon's colleagues worrying about the ruins possibly being found by expeditions."

"Which would be bad?"

"Definitely. Griffon told me that they had scouts along major entrances that they knew about, but one of her major rules about the Deep Roads is that for every one entrance you know, there's five you don't. She didn't want to go to the Legion of the Dead because she was worried about leaks, and she didn't want to go to anyone in Orzammar because it was too far for anyone there to keep an eye on it. In short, I'm being paid to do periodic checks to make extra sure that the artifact is blocked up tight and Darkspawn free. Those scouts are able to deal with them in small numbers, yes, but the handful of them that are there would be overwhelmed by larger swarms that can tend to crop up."

Dand cringed, "'Darkspawn free'…? I suddenly don't envy you, Sighs. I ran into a few of the bastards 'round these parts durin' the Blight. Ain't nice company – they're too prone to stabbin'."

Chuckling heartily, you answered wryly, "I wouldn't imagine they can hold a great conversation, either, but I digress. Griffon also said that when she and her group were there during the Blight, there was a Broodmother nest in a close enough proximity that it has her on edge. They took care of it, but she figures that if Darkspawn got that close before, they can easily get that close – maybe even farther – again. Reasonable worries from my perspective – I agreed."

"Makes sense to keep checkin', but I'm just wonderin' why she wants to keep Darkspawn away from it in the first place," The frown on Dand's face was palpable. "What're they gonna' to do…bleed on it? Turn it into some sort of altar to the next Archdemon? Ha! I'd almost pay to see that…"

Shrugging, you made an airy hand-wave that signaled quite loudly that you had no idea, "Taint was one of the things some of her researchers were concerned about. They aren't sure how the artifact would be affected by it, so they don't want to take any chances. She figured that it would be best to just keep them away at least until they're sure about whether or not it will do anything."

Dand scratched at his stubbly chin, "I have family in Griffon's little group. Now, he don't tell us much – haven't heard from the bastard in years, actually – but I've gathered enough from dear old Cousin to understand that Taint can only infect living things... You sure Griffon ain't just tryin' to get you to do her dirty work for her?"

You rolled your eyes, "I'm sure. I was told the way this thing really works, exactly – I think she's right to be skeptical about the usual rules that apply to Darkspawn taint applying to the artifact. She was too serious and genuinely concerned, but both unable to leave he post and was uncomfortable sending scouts or raw recruits to check it. Add that with the fact that even she isn't aware of all of the crevasses and entrances, she figured someone like me who's specialized in infiltration would be better suited for the task."

"Don't they have rogues? I'm pretty sure they have rogues."

"Yes," your voice drawled slowly. "But their rogues focus on fighting Darkspawn. I focus on finding those aforementioned hidden crevasses and entrances. Doesn't take a genius to figure out who would be better suited for the task at hand."

Waving his hand in a universal "peace" gesture, the Fereldan quirked an eyebrow, "Sure, sure. Just think you're actin' rather honorably makin' sure the 'spawn don't get near those scouts. 'Till now, I wasn't so sure you even knew what that word meant."

An invisible frown mirrored the one carved into your mask, "Honor has nothing to do with this. Griffon is paying me good coin, and I'm able to do some research of my own while I'm at it. It's a win-win. Keeping an eye on the scouts is just part of the job."

"Right," your companion scoffed as he crossed his arms. It was then that you noticed how on-edge he seemed, his eyes darting to and fro suspiciously. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Sighs. Is that all you wanted to talk about?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, lacing your fingers together and resting your chin on them absently, "You're awfully jumpy, Dand. Is there something you want to talk about?" Grey eyes flashed dangerously.

"No," the warrior hissed, "I just wanna' get Dot and Milana out of here. I think you forgot that I employ mages when you decided to meet at the Maker-damned Spoiled Princess!"

You shook your head calmly, "I didn't forget."

"Then why in Andraste's blessed pyre would you wanna' meet up so bloody close to a Circle tower? You know Dot escaped from the Circle at Montsimmard, right? If Templars caught him and figured out the connection, they wouldn't hesitate to make him Tranquil!"

"So you've said," you agreed with a nod. "But there's a reason I chose to meet here. I told you there was some research in the Deep Roads I wanted to complete while I was there? It had to do with Lyrium."

Dand threw his hands up in exasperation, "Then go to the fuckin' Coterie, Sighs, or the Carta! Why even look at a Circle?"

"There's a dwarven arcanist, if you can believe it or not, working with a mage in the Ferelden Circle of Magi studying Lyrium and its properties. I also have a suspicion that they're researching a strange type of Lyrium discovered somewhere far into the Deep Roads. I just wish to speak with them and…'compare notes', if you will."

The man looked at you like you had grown a second head, "You're going to sneak in? To a tower? In the middle of a lake? Guarded by an army of Templars? Maker's breath, woman, are you insane?!" Your eye twitched as the accusation immediately conjured up the memory of an unfortunate run-in with a certain Daedra you'd had in Solitude several years prior…

You had never quite been able to look at cheese the same way since.

"Not the most difficult infiltration I've ever done, but I get how it can be seen as a mad endeavor," you shrugged after a moment of silence. The hazy outline of Dand's face in your mind turned humorously incredulous. "Then again, I am the one who decided to become an information broker and work through dead drops and mercenary spies. I wouldn't say I'm the best person to ask that question."

"Remind me never to ask you what you think your most difficult infiltration actually is. I'm a bit scared to know." Dand said slowly. "Anyway, when are you plannin' on undertakin' this suicide mission?"

You grinned widely, "We are going in at midnight tonight. I figure that gives us a good several hours to find this mage and arcanist, get the information, and get out before the sun rises."

"Uh…'we'?" Blinking slowly, the warrior scratched at the angry red scar on his cheek. "You're jokin', right? Yeah. You're jokin'. Not funny, Sighs – I thought you were serious there for a minute and actually wanted me to sneak into a Circle tower with you." The awkward little chuckle that followed seemed horrifically out of place and a little too high-pitched for Dand's deep rumble.

A smirk that bled into your voice was plastered firmly on your face, "Nope. I'm deadly serious. Why so hesitant? Afraid of a few scrawny little Templars?" His usually dark complexion seemed to pale several shades.

"'S-scrawny'?" Dand stuttered. "You call those rigorously trained oafs scrawny?!"

A dark-haired head dropped into his arms as he hoarsely whispered, "Andraste's pyre, woman, you're out of your Maker-blessed mind…"

You couldn't help the roaring laugh that bubbled forth, "To you, the damn things look like toothpicks! Besides, you're not a mage. Worst they could do if they catch us is stab you to death." Dand's head jerked up, face contorted into a wide-eyed expression.

"Damn it, that's not helping!"

Dand was intimidated by Templars. You couldn't help it – you laughed even harder.


Final Words: Well, there we have it. I was going to combine this chapter and the next into one big oversized one, but considering all that I plan on having happen between now and then, I thought it would make it just a liiiiiittle too long, so I decided to just end it here and split it. So next time, we'll have Lys and Dand infiltrating the Ferelden Circle tower in search of the lovable Dagna (if you couldn't tell by "dwarven arcanist") and an unnamed mage. Any guesses? Anyone?

Hope you liked it!

R&R!

~SurreptitiousFox