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So the four of them trekked into the desert. Varric and Anders complained most of the way, Bethany was unused to all the walking so they had to keep their pace slow to accommodate her, and Hawke tended to range out in front of all of them, just wanting to get this latest issue dealt with so she could go home. To what, she wasn't sure, but she wasn't going to be figuring anything out fighting some strange dwarves in the middle of the desert.
She consulted Varric's maps occasionally, but he kept frowning, at the maps and at her, and telling her that as far as he could tell, there was nothing where they were going.
Until there was something—a tower in the distance, and a collection of dusty, ramshackle buildings that seemed to have been thrown up here hastily.
And, naturally, a whole lot of crazy dwarves.
One of them came to meet Hawke's party. His eyes were shining in a way Hawke didn't much like. They reminded her a little bit of Knight-Commander Meredith, and that was never a good thing.
The dwarf threw his arms out in what appeared to be joy. "Both sisters! You've come! You're here together!"
"Yes, it's your lucky day," Hawke said. "Why are we here?"
He ignored her and turned to the other dwarves. "Everyone! It's the children of Malcolm Hawke! They've come to us."
"Father?" Bethany whispered, clutching at Mina's arm. "What can they possibly know about Father?"
"I have no idea." More loudly, Hawke asked the question of the dwarves. "What do you know of my father?"
"It began with him and ends with you. Blood for blood. That is what we were told."
There was a loud scraping of blades being pulled from scabbards, and Hawke sighed, drawing her own sword.
"Hawke, can't you ever attract a band of fluffy kittens who just want to frolic with you?" Anders complained, readying his staff.
"Did Father do something to the Carta?" Bethany asked. Her staff was in her hand, Hawke noticed with approval. She hadn't completely lost her instincts during her time in the Gallows.
"Doesn't matter." Hawke advanced on the dwarf. "You come after my family, you pay the price."
"We must have the blood! You don't understand."
"I'll keep my blood right where it is, thanks."
"We will take it!" The rest of the dwarves lifted their blades and shouted in agreement. "Corypheus will walk in the sun once more!"
"Corypheus?" Anders frowned. "Why does that name ring a bell?"
"Fight first, rack your brains later," Varric advised him, as the crazed dwarves began to advance.
It was a relatively short-lived fight. Normally, Carta dwarves were fierce and formidable fighters, but not this bunch. Varric almost felt sorry for them as Bianca mowed them down—with some help from Hawke and the mages, naturally.
"Deranged dwarves," Blondie remarked when the battle, if you could call it that, was over. "I guess we can check that off our list."
"Are you still keeping score? I lost track long ago." Hawke should have sounded sarcastic and biting, but mostly she sounded—and looked—weary as she surveyed the carnage.
In the midst of his concern for her, though, Varric was also worried about the behavior of the dwarves. "This feels all kinds of wrong, Hawke. The Carta doesn't normally act like this. They're businessmen. They fight when there's profit on the line. They don't throw their lives away for blood. Only for coin—and then they make sure their lives are bought at a high price."
"Any progress on remembering where you heard of this 'Corypheus'?" Hawke asked Blondie. "I'd like to know who it is who wants my blood, and my sister's, so badly."
"No. I know I've heard the name before, but I can't place where."
"Well, hopefully it comes to you before we all die. Whoever he is, he's going to answer for all of this."
"No pressure, though." Varric smiled at the mage, who shook his head.
Sunshine was looking around them at the dirt and the dust and the dead dwarves and the dilapidated buildings. "It's good to see you still never go anywhere nice."
"Nice places want me to stay as far away as possible. Because this is the kind of thing that happens when I go places." Hawke looked up at the distant tower, shading her eyes. "I bet we have to go there."
"I was afraid you were going to say that," Varric muttered.
"You know, while we're stuck out here, Meredith could be burning down the Circle," Blondie pointed out.
"Then remember who Corypheus is," Hawke snapped at him over her shoulder.
Varric caught up with her, letting the two mages lag behind a bit. "You might want to go easy on him, Hawke. We don't want his passenger coming out to play."
"You make a good point." She looked down at him as they walked. "I'm surprised you didn't fight harder about coming with me. You hate dust, and you avoid the Carta the same way you do the Merchants Guild."
"Are you?" They both knew she wasn't. "And don't say their name, or they'll appear. Like djinns."
"Djinns are myths."
"So are old women who turn into dragons." She smiled at that, which was what Varric had been going for. "Besides," he added, "there's no way I was going to miss you making these motherless nug-lickers cry."
"I'm always happy to be your entertainment." Hawke stopped short, looking up. "Damn."
Varric followed the line of her gaze. This was the best view of the tower they'd had yet, and it was very high. "You don't think we have to climb that, do you?"
"Maker, I hope not. But with our luck, this Corypheus is all the way at the top, just waiting for us."
"Maybe he'll have tea and cookies."
"In exchange for my blood. How civilized." Hawke stared at the tower for another moment, then started moving again. "Well, come on, then. Let's not let the tea get cold."