Chapter 61
At Caridin's insistent plea to destroy the Anvil, Aedan gave him a nod and cast a regretful glance towards Oghren who was desperately trying to get his wife to see sense. "I'm sorry, Oghren. We can't allow the Anvil to claim more victims."
Oghren spun around to face Aedan, his hands held out in an imploring manner. "Just give her the blasted thing! She's confused… maybe once she calms down we can talk to her!"
"Oghren, she sacrificed her whole House to reach the Anvil. Would you really put such a powerful object within her hands?"
Before the dwarf could answer, Branka screeched, "No! It is mine. I will not let you take it!"
Oghren tried to reason with her, but it was plain to all that madness had consumed the Paragon. "Don't throw your life away for this, Branka!" She glared contemptuously at her husband for less than a second before turning her attention back to Caridin. "You are not the only master smith here." The power-hungry dwarf pulled out a control rod. "Golems, obey me! Attack!"
Gigantic stone fists pummelled the ground as the golems became entrapped by the power of the control rod. Aedan and his group pulled out their weapons - except for Oghren. Emma was taken aback by this unexpected turn of events; in the game, he'd disapproved but he'd readily joined in the fight. She ran over to him. "Oghren?"
He turned his head and she saw despair and hopelessness in his eyes. "I don't think I can fight her."
It was surprising to see him struggling with this decision; it always seemed as though he didn't care too much, but apparently, he just hid it very well. Emma thought fast, trying to recall everything she knew about the red-haired dwarf. "You're a skilled warrior, Oghren so go out there and show Branka what you're made of! Or do you want her to think she has you whipped?!"
He looked at the fast-paced, violent combat and a fire swept through his eyes, burning away the despair. "Not bloody likely!" With a tremendous battle cry, he charged into the fight, ferociously wielding his two-handed axe.
Emma chuckled and focused on Branka, casting spells that would disorientate and weaken the formidable warrior. Boulders were tossed through the air as if they weighed less than a feather and the ground shook from the force of mighty stone fists punching down. Alistair smashed his shield into Branka, and Aedan quickly closed in, ready to take advantage of her temporary grogginess. However, Leliana's arrow brought an end to the dwarf, puncturing the back of her skull and exiting via her forehead, splattering Alistair with a spray of blood. The Paragon was dead before she hit the ground.
"You have done me a great service. What boon can I offer you?" Caridin asked. Aedan explained the situation in Orzammar. "We need some way to bring this stalemate to an end," he finished. Caridin inclined his head. "Very well. I will make a crown for the next king of Orzammar. I will leave the decision in your hands." He turned and walked to the Anvil.
Zevran rubbed a hand across his chin. "My friend, it occurs to me that you have, perhaps, not thought this through?" Aedan lifted a questioning brow and the elf continued. "It seems that an army of golems would be most useful in fighting the Blight, yes?"
Emma made sure that Shale wasn't nearby before speaking in a hushed voice. "Would you like to know how the golems are created, Zev?" He shrugged. "They are laid in a shell and then molten lyrium is poured through the eye-holes, the mouth, every joint and chink in the armour." Zevran shuddered, but she finished her tale. "The Deep Roads echoed with their agonised screams as the flesh melted from their bones, while the stench of burning flesh filled the noses of all who worked there. That is the cost of creating a golem, Zev. Do you still feel it's worth it?"
The assassin looked a little green around the gills as he emphatically shook his head.
They looked up as Caridin left the Anvil, holding a solid gold crown which he gave to Aedan. "Will you fulfil your promise, now?" Caridin asked, his tone full of hope.
"Of course." Aedan passed the crown to Emma and walked up the slope with Caridin at his side. He bent down and picked up the massive hammer with a grunt. Hefting it over his shoulder, he swung it down with all his strength. A flash of light illuminated the walls and a loud booming noise rang through the cavern as the Anvil shattered. For a moment Caridin stared at the remains of what he'd created; back then, he'd been full of pride and joy at the hope of saving the Dwarves, but the cost had been too high. He turned to Aedan. "Thank you, stranger. Atrast nal tunsha… may you always find your way in the dark."
Without warning, he turned and stepped over the edge of the chasm, and Aedan instinctively reached out. His fingertips brushed against stone but it was too late - the Paragon had already been swallowed up by the constant, flowing lava. Emma reached down and took Aedan's hand as she wiped away the tears she'd been unable to hold back. He rubbed a thumb over her skin in a comforting manner. "Come on, let's get back to Orzammar."
As they descended the slope, Emma noticed Shale and Oghren looking over the names carved into a large stone tablet. The dwarf muttered something as he peered closely at the writing before reading a passage. "We honour those who have made this sacrifice. Let their names be remembered."
He whistled. "Well, fart me a lullaby. It's a memorial of all the dwarves who became golems."
"This must be preserved," Wynne said. She searched her pack, pulled out some sheets of tracing paper and a stick of charcoal, and then proceeded to take tracings of all the names. With their mission completed, they made the arduous journey back to Orzammar.
-x-
Aedan pushed open the doors to the Chamber of Assembly and stepped inside; the usual bout of arguing was in full swing. One of the guards, upon seeing their entrance, went down and spoke to Steward Bandelor. "The Grey Wardens have returned." A silence fell over the chamber and all eyes turned towards them as they descended the stairs. Harrowmont spoke. "We should let the Warden speak. What news do you bring?"
"I have a crown forged by Caridin for the next king," Aedan said as he held up the impressive headpiece.
Oghren took up the tale. "Caridin was trapped in the body of a golem. This Warden granted him the mercy he sought, releasing him and destroying the Anvil of the Void. Before he died, Caridin forged a crown for Orzammar's next king, chosen by the ancestors themselves!"
Bhelen snorted in disbelief. "And we are supposed to trust the word of a drunk and a Grey Warden known to be in Harrowmont's pocket?"
Harrowmont laughed heartily. "You didn't see the way that female Grey Warden spoke to me; they're not in anyone's pocket."
Emma cleared her throat and tried to look angelic, but rather ruined the whole effect by turning a steely gaze on Lord Harrowmont. "Do you promise to act on what we discussed?"
He gave a solemn bow. "I promise, milady."
She chuckled at the form of address and gave a discreet nod to Aedan. Steward Bandelor stepped forward and carefully took the coronet from Aedan's hands before inspecting it thoroughly. "This crown is of Paragon make and bears House Ortan's ancient seal. Tell us, Warden: whom did Caridin choose?"
"He said I should give it to whomever I choose. And I choose Harrowmont."
The room was silent as Harrowmont stepped in front of Steward Bandelor and got down on one knee. The steward spoke as he lowered the crown. "Let the Memories find you worthy, first amidst the lords of the houses, the King of Orzammar."
The solemn moment shattered before Bhelen's wrath.
"No! The throne is mine!" He pulled a weapon and charged towards Harrowmont and Aedan. Other Deshyrs drew their weapons, which they'd somehow secreted in the chamber, and a swift but brutal fight ensued, ending with the decapitation of Bhelen. At the sight of his head rolling across the chamber, all remaining followers quickly surrendered. Harrowmont looked down at Bhelen's corpse with regret before turning to Aedan and his companions. "I would be honoured if you all would join me at the Royal Palace for celebrations."
Aedan barely held back a groan; he was tired and all he wanted to do was go to bed and hold Emma… after they'd talked, of course. However, he pasted a smile on his face and graciously accepted. Harrowmont chuckled. "Don't worry, lad. I won't keep you there for long; just show your face and then you and your friends can have a well-deserved rest." A wave of relief rolled through Aedan and he grinned as he and his team made their way to the Palace.