Dragon Age: War of Gods
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Chapter 4
Legends of the Frostback Giants and Dwarves of Orzammar
The thunder clapped loudly overhead as if there were a dragon roaring in the ears of Romian as he sat in the cart wagon. There was a mix of rain and snow that fell upon him as he pulled his robes and cloak closer to him. He hated being wet and cold, and he hated having to run from the land he once called home. The dark grey clouds hung lowly overhead and Romian secretly cursed whatever forced placed him in this horrid state. Lightning flashed overhead, the bolts connected and danced elegantly throughout the skies. Romian couldn't help but admire the beauty of the storm, even if it required that his cloak and robes were wetted. Several seconds later, there was another deafening clap of thunder. Romian turned to the Dwarf at the front of the wagon.
"How much longer until we get to shelter?" Romian yelled through another clap of thunder.
"Orzammar shouldn't be but a few miles out," the Dwarf shouted back, "I suspect another hour or so, but I will keep an eye out for a cave or something we can sleep under. The Bronto are tough, but even they need a rest and shelter from storms!"
Romian scoffed silently to himself. Bronto were strong and fierce, and could easily wade through almost anything. Though, perhaps the strong river could even sweep such creatures off their feet if they weren't careful. Yet, Romian saw prudence in the Dwarf's words. Shelter, even a small cave, would be a welcome thing in the middle of a strong storm. Romian sat quietly, as he had always done on the trip. Always, his thoughts turned to his mother and whatever it was that saved him the night that Val Royeaux fell. He felt blade that passed through his mother's back as he slept that horrid night. He remembered quite clearly the red glow that came from the city as she burned. Romian felt sad that Val Royeaux's beauty perished, but that had not stopped him from madly fleeing eastward from whatever power he knew was after him.
Romian searched diligently with his Dwarven companion for a cave, but they found none. So, much to the grumbling of the Dwarf, they proceeded onward to Orzammar. Romian smiled and laughed quietly to himself as the Dwarf grumbled.
"Damn, sodding surface dwellers," the Dwarf muttered bitterly, "If it weren't for the fact that I get gold, I would be in a nice, cozy bed under the stone."
The lightning flashed and danced around them. Romian wondered if the bolts might come down upon them. Secretly, he wished that a bolt lightning may come down upon them so he might use his staff to deflect the bolt or absorb it, feeling its power course through him. However, the bolt of pure energy never came, and Romian never had the chance to test his strength.
"I hope you are happy boy," the Dwarf growled, "If I get killed by this storm, I will come back from the Stone to repay vengeance."
"It will be a rare sight to see a Dwarf to come back from the Stone," Romian laughed, "I thought Dwarves couldn't separate from the Stone after 'joining' her again."
The Dwarf slightly growled but did not continue the conversation. Romian smiled smugly to himself. He certainly had his mother's wit, he gave himself that. However, he wished he had some inkling of who his father was. Though, at the same time, he was certain that he didn't want to know. There is power in knowledge, it was true, but some secrets are better left undiscovered in this world. At least, assuming those secrets weren't truly worth discovering. Yet, Romian thought that such secrets not worth discovery were secrets of rather insignificant value. There were things that held more meaning in the world that could change the course of history, dark things.
"There is the gate of Orzammar," the Dwarf cried.
Romian looked up and smiled as he gazed upon the great statues of the Dwarfish people. The grey-stone figures stood like guardians that were ever watchful against the outside world, but what exactly the statues were watching for in the world, Romian knew not. The shadows of the great Dwarves loomed over the bronto-drawn wagon and Romian couldn't help but admire the architecture. The Dwarves were known for achieving great feats of craft and masonry. No doubt that Romian thought they lived up to what the boy had heard. They quickly approached the gates to flee the lightning of the storm. However, as they got ever closer to the gates, two Dwarven guards approached them.
"Halt," the first guard cried, "Orzammar has been closed off."
"I'm a sodding merchant of Orzammar," Romian's compained complained, "Give me one good reason why I can't enter my homeland!"
"Bhelen, your king, commands that no one enter or leave Orzammar until the threat has been dealt with," the first guard growled, tightening the grip on the axe he carried.
"Threat?" Romian asked, "What threat?"
"There are sodding Darkspawn in there," the guard pointed behind him, "and Ancestors know what out here. Some say a monsters out of legend."
"Some say the Children of the Alamarri's Mountain-Father," the second guard claimed, "Normally, we shrug off such things, but the old legends of the Alamarri seem to have come to life."
"Kroth?" Romian asked, remembering his mother's stories of the old Alamarri legends, "Don't the Alamarri claim that the Dwarves are the children of Kroth?"
"Aye, they do," Romian's companion said, "But there are some legends that the Dwarves are cousins to a race from the line of Hakkon Wintersbreath. Great giants, some say, but no one has ever seen these twelve-foot tall men."
"Until now," the first guard objected, "And there have been too many reports of these giants to ignore. And don't you sodding say there are a bunch of damned Qunari that are walking around the mountain paths trying to scare people into running off without their equipment. We already checked. Now turn around, we can't risk leaving the gates open for those creatures to take advantage of us. Cunning bastards…."
"I wish to speak to King Bhelen," Romian said, "There may be a way that we can resolve this problem together."
"And what, exactly, would you know of these creatures?" the second guard asked.
"My mother would often tell me such legends of Kroth, as she was raised among the Chasind, who know the Alamarri legends well," Romian answered.
"And who is your mother, boy, that you would claim to know of our plight?" the first guard said with a raised eyebrow and a laugh.
"My mother may not be of any consequence to you," Romian started quietly, "but she is – was – Morrigan, Arcane Advisor to the late Empress Celene of Orlais."
"Morrigan?" the second guard asked and an odd look passed over his face, "Yes, I do think King Bhelen would be interested in seeing you, boy."
A pleased look over Romian's face as he watched the second guard convince his fellow to send word to the Dwarven king. Romian waited outside the door to Orzammar for about an hour until the first guard returned, grumbling. He looked between Romian and the second guard and sighed.
"By the order of King Bhelen," the first guard said, "you are free to pass, son of Morrigan. I am to lead you directly to my king."
"Thank you," Romian said with slight nod.
Romian, the guard, and Romian's merchant companion quickly entered the gates, and the merchant left Romian's side to trade the moment he could, leaving the boy to be led to the Diamond Quarter of Orzammar. Romian admired the architectural beauty of Orzammar. Its great stone statues, its lyrium and gems adorning columns, even the rivers of magma that slowly rushed forth underground and even heated the Dwarven smithy systems. It was said that the Dwarves could turn anything into an incredible feat of beauty, and Romian believed the claim was true after gazing upon the great city of the Dwarves. He would grieve bitterly if it ever fell into the hands of the Darkspawn. Yet, was not beauty or peace that Romian desired, it was vengeance against those who slew his mother and took Val Royeaux.
Slowly the two came before the royal estate of Orzammar and before the door to the throne room. The door was wide and was depicted with small images of Dwarves. Romian mentally guessed it was about the history of the Dwarves of Orzammar. The door was guarded by yet another pair of Dwarven guards that simply nodded and opened the door once it was explained who Romian was and why he was here. The guards opened the door and inside were a couple of Dwarves arguing. The Dwarf on the right wore a rather large golden crown and was a blonde fellow who seemed to be growing exceedingly impatient with the Dwarf next to him. That Dwarf had red hair and dressed in the armor of the Legion of the Dead. However, along with the symbols of the Legion, he also bore the symbols of the Grey Wardens and the armies of Denerim. The Dwarf smelt like brewery, but he stood proud against who Romian guessed was King Bhelen.
"For the last time, Oghren," Bhelen said, "I want to be able to honor my alliance with King Alistair, but I also have alliances with Orlais and Tevinter. I have valuable trade to think about. Unless you have a good reason as to why I should support you, Orzammar will stay neutral. Besides, why should I send my men topside when giants are on the loose? I can't afford to waste my men when my people are in danger! I am thankful for your help, and the help of Queen Silwen, in securing my crown and stopping the Blight, but I am not willing to cut off Orzammar from its friends because Fereldan is worried about its neighbors. The answer is no."
"This is more than just a worry," Oghren argued, "Orlais is coming for Fereldan under the banner Gaspard and he has sworn to strike Orzammar for the slaying of member of the Chantry. You and I both know that the Chantry twice nearly called for the destruction of the Dwarven race."
"The Divine is dead," Bhelen argued back, "and Tevinter needs us for lyrium. Why would Tevinter betray us?"
"Tevinter needs slaves," Oghren said, "They are not to be trusted. You heard of the tales of the thaig they found under Kirkwall. If the magisters got hold of the raw lyrium there, they could take all of Thedas."
"And what if they did?" Bhelen asked. "Tevinter is strong, yes, but they know that Dwarves can defend themselves heavily against magic. Besides, what fool would dare to attack a mountain? If Orzammar has any concern of being captured by any enemy, it is against the Darkspawn. No, Tevinter needs us. They aren't about to betray us. They are strong allies, and we need strong allies. Just as Fereldan is a strong ally. My answer to my friend, King Alistair, is the same."
"Y-your majesty," The guard near Romain interrupted.
"Yes? What is it?" Bhelen asked, turning to the new company.
"I bring before you Romian, son of Morrigan," the guard said with a bow.
Those words brought Oghren's attention so quickly that Romian was sure that the Dwarf would have snapped his own neck had he moved any faster. Oghren just simply stared at the boy, his mouth slightly open as his eyes wandered to see the resemblance between the raven-haired beauty he once knew as Morrigan and the boy. Bhelen, on the other hand, simply smiled.
"So," Bhelen said with a slight laugh, "this is the rumor that reached my ears. I see no demon of desire come from the depths of Fade, but perhaps you can help us. The first time I laid eyes upon Morrigan, I believe she traveled with Silwen, the Elf-maid. I do believe they were arguing over the magic of the Anvil of the Void. Do you remember, Oghren?"
"I remember many things," Oghren, said slowly and with slight suspicion, "I remember Morrigan vanished after the Battle for Denerim and was never heard from again. I assumed she died with the damned Archdemon… or at least fled back to the Chasind."
"The Archdemon?" Romian asked, "No, my mother never took part in the Fifth Blight."
"Then she is as great a liar as her own dear mother," Oghren laughed, "Morrigan, Witch of the Wilds and daughter of the legendary and infamous Flemeth! I think you have given me more information than you know. Either Morrigan is a liar, and she is, or you are. Or both!"
Romian looked at the laughing Dwarf in shock. He knew his mother had secrets, but why would she leave out her involvement in the Fifth Blight as part of her stories? Though, Romian knew that his mother kept many things hidden about her past, even family. Oghren smiled and walked up to Romian before turning back around and giving Bhelen a slight bow.
"We may discuss our diplomatic relations between Orzammar and Fereldan another time, your majesty," Oghren said before turning back to Romian, "As for you, come to Tapster's after you are done speaking with King Bhelen. We have much to discuss."
Oghren took his leave and Romian watched Dwarf leave in slilence. When Oghren was out of sight, he turned his attention back to Bhelen. Bhelen simply watched the boy with a slight smile on his face.
"Tell me, why have you come here?" Bhelen asked.
"My mother was slain in Orlais," Romian answered, "I fled east after the fall of Val Royeaux and came here by buying a ride with a Dwarven merchant."
"Where were you going to go?" Bhelen asked again.
"I don't know," Romian said slowly, "My home was taken from me. I am simply a traveler. Maybe I can find some decent work when I find somewhere comfortable to live."
"If it is work you want, then maybe I can help," Bhelen said, "As you know, we have had dealings with strange giants. Creatures that seem to come out of myth and legend. I need the roads cleared and these creatures eradicated. If you help me, I will give you coin enough to make it as far as Denerim."
"What makes you think I can help you?" Romian asked.
"If you are anything like Morrigan, then you have magic," Bhelen answered, "We need magic on our side to beat these creatures. My men aren't enough to push them back. Dwarves are not normally a topside people. These giants know the lands outside of Orzammar better than we do. They can hide in the snow and set traps for us."
Romian slowly considered his options. Even though he would have gladly stayed at Orzammar, he wanted to know more about his mother and whatever saved him in Val Royeaux. Oghren seemed Romian's best bet to find out the truth.
"If I help you," Romian said, "I want access to your archives at the Shaperate of Memories, and money enough to reach the Fereldan Circle as well as Denerim."
"Done," Bhelen answered with a smile and handshake, "Hopefully you are as strong as your mother."
The two parted, and as Romian left the throne room, he remembered the Oghren's offer for a drink. Romian wandered around Orzammar for a while before finding the tavern. The mountain was big, but not so big that Tapster's wasn't easily found if one bothered looking. Romian entered into what was clearly a brewery, the smell of ale and vomit filled his senses along with the smell of burning wood and large pig that the Dwarves were cooking over an open fire. The sound of laughter filled the tavern, but all took notice of the young apostate, even if it wasn't obvious that he was being watched. In a darker corner near the back of the tavern, Romian saw Oghren sitting quietly with a rather serious look on his face.
"Come on boy, and sit down!" Oghren exclaimed as Romian approached the clearly drinking Dwarf. There was another beer on the table that Romian was going to grab, but Oghren quickly took it out of reach.
"No, I won't let you have this swill," the Dwarf muttered, "I swear, every time I come here the ale is worse. The have much better stuff on the surface. But, hey! A drink is a drink! I think I have some wine on me, much better to the liking of you damn mages."
Oghren set down a flask of wine before Romian, and he took it. The taste of many berries filled Romian's mouth as he tasted it, but it was clearly a wine that was not brewed in Orlais. Not that it was bad, it just wasn't the best that he ever had.
"I taste raspberry," Romian stated bluntly, as if he had the wine before.
"You have an excellent taste!" Oghren laughed proudly for a moment before turning serious, "But sadly we do not have the luxury of tasting wines. Orlais has fallen, as you already know. There are rumors that Gaspard has made an alliance with the Tevinter Imperium. There has not been this much chaos since the damned Blight."
"What does this have to do with me?" Romian asked.
"We need your mother," Oghren said, "Alistair needs your mother's advice, the whole of Thedas is terrified. If only Silwen were here…."
"What does my mother have to do with this?" Romian demanded.
"Well," Oghren sighed, "I think we should start at the beginning…. It started when Silwen and Alistair led the defense of Redcliffe against a break off of the Darkspawn horde. It was from there that we were gathering the army that she and King Alistair formed…."
A/N: Due to the length of the chapter and the fact that I haven't updated in a while, I thought that this would be a good point to give you guys some action. Don't worry, I will try to update again as soon as possible! I just have to go through the pains of college. Anyway, I hope everyone had a good holiday season! I plan on adding something from Dragon Age: Inquisition, which was an awesome game, by the way! All I really need to figure out is what lore I should put where. Obviously, with Justinia dead I will go ahead with the formation of the Inquisition, but I won't introduce the idea of the opening of the breach just yet. I do have plans on the next Divine, and, yes, I do intend on her being a certain redhead we all love dearly, but I am not sure how to pull that off. Also, Hawke and the Inquisitor will also be introduced as well as Corypheus, but I am not sure how just yet. All I know for certain is what will be happening in future chapters. At any rate, though, everyone be safe, and have a good day!