I extricated myself from the elf's hold and crept to the door, waving at him to get him to come with me. With a silent sigh and look toward the heavens, he gave up and followed. I put a hand on his arm and stepped through the door. We were free. Now, we just had to get as far away as we could, as long as I was able to keep a steady flow of energy going.
At a loss as to where to go, my eyes darted this way and that, until Zevran pointed at the looming building near the end of the walkway. The tavern, I assumed by the large sign with a tankard on it that stood tall in front of the establishment. I nodded. That's where Natia had said we'd needed to go, so it was a good a place as any to start with.
A woman knelt by a fountain of lava, her hands steepled in front of her. She was praying.
"Ancestors, guard my son, for he is lost in darkness. Mothers, keep him safe, for you know what it is to mourn."
I stopped and gave Zevran a pleading look. He raised an eyebrow, glancing at the woman. Heaving a heavy sigh, he rolled his eyes at me. I took that as an okay and, with a quick look around us, I let the magic go.
She stood when I got closer, "I'm sorry. Did you have an offering for the ancestors? Although... I can't imagine your ancestors reside in the Stone."
"What were you praying for, good woman?" Zevran asked gently.
"My name is Filda, widow of Teruck of the Smith Caste. I pray here every day for my son, Ruck. I only wish I knew whether I should be asking for his safe return or for the ancestors to accept his soul."
"'Safe return'? Your son has gone missing?"
"It was five years ago. He was only a youngster. He joined a Deep Roads excursion-the only smith to go with the warriors to repair their arms. He was so proud. But he got... separated somehow. When they came home, he wasn't with them."
"Do you want us to look for him?" I offered.
"How? There is no way except to brave the Deep Roads yourself."
"I'm a Grey Warden, and I'm traveling with five others of my order. It's what we do."
"A Warden!" Her voice rose in excitement, "So you could do it! Only Wardens face the Deep Roads without a company backing them. Oh, thank you! The ancestors finally heed my prayers!" She rushed forward and swept her arms around both of us, "Please. Find me as soon as you return!"
Kneeling down again, she started praying with even more determination.
The door to the shop swung open, and Zevran grabbed my wrist, dragging me to the tavern. Tapsters Tavern, the sign read as I was pulled through the door. We made it just before the first Carta member left the building behind us.
"Atrast vala, strangers. You must be one of the Grey Wardens we heard about." The waitress directed that toward the assassin, "Welcome to Tapsters. I'm Corra, your hostess. How may I serve you?"
"Ah, might you tell us if our companions came in here earlier?"
"Oh! Sure, they're right over there. The table in the corner."
"Thank you, lovely Corra."
"I'd like to hear a bit about the city." I looked up at her with wide, child-like eyes.
She blinked down at me, taken off-guard, "Uh..." She shook herself, slipping back in to her work mode, "So, you come to Tapsters? I guess you're not asking anything official, or you'd be at the Shaperate, but I can certainly give you a mole's-eye view."
"What's a Shaperate?"
"It's the bureau of all shapers in Orzammar, led by the shaper of memories. If you're from the surface, I guess you'd call them scholars. They keep all of our records, laws, genealogies... You got questions about Orzammar's history and don't mind answers in words as long as your leg, that's the place to go."
"Where can we find the shaper of memories?"
"He'd be in the Diamond Quarter... pardon, the nobles' district. Upstairs from here, however you call it."
"Is there any place we should see while we're here?"
"The nobles stay upstairs except when they're slumming. You'll find the Assembly there, the palace, the Shaperate, and plenty of estates. Down from here is just Dust Town or the mines, so my recommendation is 'avoid.' It's not part of the city, just some old tunnels where the casteless build their nests. No one goes there, if they can help it. But if you want fun, your best bet is the Proving."
"What's the Proving?"
"It's a chance for all the best fighters in Orzammar to test their skills. There's a tournament today-the arena's between here and the Diamond Quarter."
While I was nodding to myself, I remembered where'd I'd heard of the Proving; Duncan had said Natia had won it.
Zevran asked about getting a drink.
"With fifty-two types of ale, seventeen types of mead, and a dozen imported wines, we should be able to serve your needs. What'll you have?"
"I'd like some mead."
"I have an award-winning honey mead. Surface family ships it down here every month. Only one and a half silvers a mug."
"I'll take it." he dropped the coins in her hand, and she beamed a smile.
"One honey mead, coming right up." While she was pouring it, she made small talk, "One of the Legionnaires claimed he saw a ragged-looking dwarf heading west while he was patrolling the Deep Roads. When he tried hailing the dwarf, the fellow ran off, screaming."
Zevran and I exchanged looks.
Her smile turned knowing, and she started busying herself at the counter, "Well, I have other customers to see to. If you need anything else, just call me over."
"Thank you, Corra. You have been a most gracious hostess." He reached out and shook her hand. Gold glimmered in her closed fists.
"Come on, my dear Warden. Let us find the others." He led me away from the bar.
"Afternoon, strangers. You looking for a stool to share a brew?" A dwarf outfitted in full armor called us over to him.
"Don't mind if we do." I murmured, sitting on the seat next to him. It still surprised me that children weren't excluded from partaking in alcohol in Thedas.
"I recommend the lichen-ale. They brew it downstairs. Name's Nevin. I fight with Prince Bhelen's expeditionary field unit. Yourself?" He would have been able to overhear our conversation just a moment ago.
"I'm Anastasia, a Grey Warden. This is Zevran, one of my companions."
"Figured as much." His head bobbed up and down, "Good folks, Grey Wardens. I was in the Deep Roads when that one came by. What was his name? Doocan? Dunca...? Something like that."
"You knew Duncan?" I leaned forward, interested in where this conversation was going.
"I met him, sure. Good man. Solid. He knows what we go through in the Deep Roads. Not many do. Not even the ones who live this close. You have to be on the front lines."
"So, you work for Bhelen?"
"I go where I'm sent, fight when I'm there, and leave politics where it belongs."
I waited a few beats of silence before diving in to more questions, "Who's your unit fighting?"
"Darkspawn. Not much use in turning our weapons elsewhere, while those vermin still live."
"I've never been in the Deep Roads." I lied easily, tilting my head.
"Every Grey Warden ends up there. That's where they send you when you're ready to leave this world. Go die in the dark, putting away as many vermin as you can. Getting more crowded these days, though. Lots of people interested all of a sudden. We go back tomorrow, and we're not the only ones."
"Who's sending you out?"
"Bhelen ordered us in at first bell. He's splitting us in to four teams, to search some of the lost thaigs. Looking for signs of Branka, I guess. Seems to be who everyone's after."
I recalled the conversation between that mother and daughter, in front of the Paragon statue. She was still alive? Hmm. That was interesting.
"Who else is in the Deep Roads?"
"Lord Harrowmont's got his own men there. All looking for signs of Branka. Guess the city's getting to miss having a Paragon. Everyone wants someone to put in charge."
"Who's Branka?" I finally got around to asking.
"Branka was a Paragon, some kind of great smith or whatnot. But she went batty and led her whole house in to the Deep Roads more than two years ago. There's no chance she could've survived. And a lot of good men are going to die looking for her corpse." He made a face down at his mug, "Excuse me, this brew is starting to taste awful bitter."
We parted ways as he went to the bar. Zevran and I waded through the crowd, moving toward the back of the spacious room.
"Lord Denek Helmi, honored deshyr of the Orzammar Assembly and terrible disappointment to my esteemed mother, who doesn't like me spending time in taverns."
I almost punched the man. One second, we had a clear path, and the next, this strange man had popped up in front of us.
"You understand what I'm saying, right? On the surface, there are no castes and it works fine. Am I right, Warden?"
"A controversial opinion for a dwarf in the Assembly." I said carefully, not wanting to overstep any imagined boundaries.
"Very good. I guess someone already told you I was good-for-nothing, drinking my life away at Tapsters. Or did they leave off at 'greatest shame to ever fall upon the Assembly?' I've always liked that one."
A quiet murmur gave voice to my thoughts, "This man has had more than a little to drink. Tread cautiously."
You know, most smiths and tavern-keeps would make decent deshyrs, if we gave them a chance and a seat in the Assembly. Orzammar is so mired in tradition, no one bothers asking if the castes are even necessary."
"How does the caste system work, anyway?" I might as well get as much information from him as I could before he realizes he shouldn't be yapping.
"Badly." A flippant response, followed by wide eyes, "Oh, you're serious. Well, it's simple, I guess. The king and elected deshyrs of the Assembly are at the top, then it's the nobles... Then the warriors and all the craftsmen. At the bottom are servants; the casteless and criminals are below even that. Your caste is determined by that of your same-sex parent, and that's where you stay your whole life, whatever your skill."
"So, you get to vote on the next king?" It sounded like a democracy, only with a monarch instead of a president or whatever.
"Me and seventy-nine other fine, upstanding examples of how someone who's born in to every privilege inevitably wants more. They're not fond of my views on equality."
"Could I ask who you're voting for? Or is that frowned upon?"
"I doubt either candidate has been outside the Diamond Quarter in his life, but Lord Harrowmont seems a bit more... forgiving. Prince Bhelen's brilliant, I'll give him that, and subtle as sin. But I don't think anything in Orzammar matters more to him than winning."
"We should get going." Zevran put a hand on my shoulder and steered me away.
"As you wish." The dwarf bowed slightly to us, stumbling over to a bench.
"You're going to get yourself in to trouble, if you're not more careful."
"I know. But something he said was important."
He raised an eyebrow, but Alistair flagged us down.
"There you two are! We were getting worried."
"By 'we', he means himself." The witch looked at him disdainfully.
The warrior rolled his eyes and gestured for us to sit.
"Did they give you any trouble?" Natia's eyes bounced between Zev and me.
"Not at all. They never saw us." the confidence in his tone made her frown.
"What? How? They swarmed that place. There wouldn't have been enough time to use the secret tunnel and get that bookshelf back in to position before they walked in."
"You underestimate our leader."
Everyone looked to me, and I shrugged, "I'm used to it. It's what makes me so good, actually. But enough about me. There's something we have to discuss." I pointed to the dwarf Wardens, "Bhelen and Harrowmont. There are some in the Assembly who have the same views as Bhelen, yet are behind Harrowmont because he's the nicer of the two."
"I thought as much. The deshyr are divided in half, exactly, when it comes to voting. It's why they haven't elected one or the other already." Duran sighed, "And, while that shopkeep wasn't against us being casteless, you'll find the majority of Orzammar isn't so lenient."
Elissa nodded, "You should have seen how the patrons reacted when we walked in with them. They took one look at Natia, and the whispering started. Sneering. I thought I heard a few rude remarks, too."
"You did." The duster sat up proudly, "It's what you get, when you live in Dust Town. You grow up with it, get used to it. It's nothing."
I bit my thumb nail, thinking. It probably appeared as if I was spacing out, uninterested in the topic. In reality, I was wondering how we would get anything done with them around. Surfacers were already shunned, to some degree. No matter how revered the Grey Wardens were, those two weren't really thought of as such. We would have to walk a very fine line here.
"-and we'll just hold-"
"Okay. Natia and Alistair," I ignored the fact that I'd obviously interrupted someone, "will be in Dust Town. Find out what you can about the Carta. Elissa and Aedan, you two will stay around here, in the Trade Quarter. Duran and I will go to the Diamond Quarter."
"No. Absolutely not."
"What?"
"Are you sure?"
"Why?"
"We need to stick together."
Chaos had erupted at our table. I leaned over and whispered to Sten, asked if he would do something for me. He nodded and slammed his fist down on the surface. Startled in to silence, everyone turned their focus to us.
I gave them each an icy glare, "I am the leader of this little band. So long as I hold that authority, and you all don't choose someone else to be the head, I will make the decisions. Now, you don't have to like them, but you do have to listen, if you want to stay."
No one spoke out. No one so much as breathed, until I'd settled back in to my seat.
"Natia is going to Dust Town, because she knows that district. She knows those people. Duran is going to the Diamond Quarter, because he's from there. He would know who to push and who to stay away from. When sweet talk is better than a threat. Elissa and Aedan are staying here together, because they know they can trust each other. They work well together in a fight, take my word for it. Alistair is going with Natia, because I want him away from the nobles. I-"
"What? Why? I mean, don't get me wrong, I hate having to speak with formality, but-"
I held up a hand, "Let me stop you right there. You are, for all intents and purposes, a candidate for the human throne. What do you think would happen, if you met with one of the prospects and elevated him to the status of king? They would want you in their pocket. They wouldn't rest until they got their hands on you and had you agree to things you probably can't even guarantee."
He glared at the mention of the throne, but didn't argue my logic, "I... I guess I see your point."
"Like I said; You don't have to like it." I took a deep breath, "Anyway, I want Leliana and Wynne with the Couslands. Morrigan, Sten, and Seraphine, with Natia and Alistair. Zevran, you're with me and Duran."
"You should take more with you than just Zevran."
"Why? Wynne, Morrigan, and I are healers. Leliana, Sten, and Zevran are fighters."
"What about the hound?" Morrigan sniffed.
"She'll be good there, with all the criminals hiding around every corner." I hesitated now, "There's something I have to do down in Dust Town, but I won't be able to set foot there until after we deal with this election."
"What is it?" Natia studied me with suspicion.
"You might know the guy. There's a man waiting for word from a mage at the Circle Tower in Ferelden. What with the demon problem and everything going on topside, the mage hasn't been able to send anything to Orzammar."
"And he wants lyrium." She stated flatly.
Alistair's eyes tightened, and Wynne shook her head, "No. We mustn't do this. We shouldn't bring lyrium illegally to the Tower."
"Wynne, please. The mages need it, and so do the Templars. You know it. Who's going to want to do business with them, after that fiasco? The Chantry are likely thinning their supply as we speak. So, Natia, I need you to talk to the guy. Offer up to, but no more than, five thousand gold. Got it?" I handed her a coin purse.
"You came prepared."
"Yeah. There was a note in a hollow tree, just outside the Tower. I found it when the others were trying to talk our way in to the Tower to recruit the mages." I paused and glanced around the table at my comrades, "Is everyone clear on where they're going?"
Several nodded and the rest made noises of agreement.
"It's settled, then. Let's go." I stood and said over my shoulder, "Oh, and everyone? Try not to get yourselves hurt. We'll be going to the Deep Roads soon, and we can't afford to be down on numbers."