Dragon Age Origins: Dovahkiin

by Arch-Daishou00

(M) 'Mature story' "Sea-bound to foreign shores, the Dunmeri Dragonborn Miara and her kin embark on a new land on orders from the emperor. The family's mission; To investigate and explore these foreign nations. But no objective is ever straightforward for a Doom Driven hero" Co-Author: Etheral-23. UNIGORE did the original artwork. "Thank you so much!"

44. Deep Roads Act I

Disclaimer: We do not own The Elder Scrolls Series or Dragon Age series

Co-Author and Beta: Ethereal-23

The Deep Roads: Harrowing beginning

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX ~ xx ~ XxX ~ xx ~ XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

The silence was palpable after Bhelen spoke. Sereda stared at her brother with an incredulous stupor. Her mouth moved for a moment with no words until finally, her voice returned to her, "Bhelen... Branka has been missing in the Deep Roads for two years..."

"I'm aware."

"She is likely dead," the exiled princess continued, "By Darkspawn or by whatever other damn nightmare is down there."

Bhelen raised a placating hand, "Possibly. But you and I both can agree on just how tenacious that woman is. And she didn't go alone. Outside of leaving Oghren here, she took her entire House with her."

"Yes, and not even the Legion of the Dead has seen any of them."

Sereda's brother rose from his seat, "It is still worth trying." He walked around his desk to her side, "I have a good gut feeling about this."

"Oh... Was that same gut feeling that had us running for our lives when a herd of Deepstalkers were chasing us all over Kernak Thiag?"

Bhelen's eye twitched, "That and this are two different things." But the dry deadpan he received back, his sister was not in agreement, "Look at it this way, Sereda. You find Paragon Branka and get her on my side, and no one, not even Harrowmont, would contest my bid for the throne."

That was true enough. As a Paragon is viewed as a living ancestor, their authority went even above their rulers. If, and it was a really big IF, they could even find Branka, would she even care to aid them? The woman was known to be unpredictable at best and scornful at worst. She neither had the time nor patience to deal with the Deshyrs and Noble Houses.

"This is a risky gamble, Bhelen," Sereda quipped.

"One I am willing to take for myself and for changing Orzammar."

"Why does it feel this is not the whole story?" Oryrn suspiciously asked.

Sereda answered him, "Because Branka took off in search of the Anvil of the Void, Paragon Caridin's greatest creation, the source of all golems."

Most people in the room gave Shale a look at that. The golem in question remained with its firm, stony expression that betrayed no thought or emotion. Yet deep down, something was stirring inside its stone shell.

The Anvil, the place where it was created... It brought feelings and flashing of images, too quick and too blurry to make sense. Like there was something, Shale felt it should be remembered but couldn't. There was something about the Anvil, not its locations, but... What was it?

"I can see your golem has no idea of its location, no matter," Bhelen waved it off, "Indeed, Branka is after the very thing that saved the dwarven race during the first Blight. The creation of the golems allowed us to escape destruction at the hands of the damn Blighters. I don't think I need to tell you just what kind of boon it'd be to have it in Orzammar's hands once more."

They couldn't deny his words. Shale was amazing. Its stone body was so strong and resilient that it fought with all the force of a siege ram and the mobility of a man in plate armor. But Shale's greatest strength wasn't in its nigh impervious nature or raw physical might, but the fact that Shale was capable of thinking and strategizing, adapting to the situation at hand. Shale wasn't a mere automaton; Shale was a seasoned warrior who fought and thought like one.

To have a full force of golems with such intellect and instincts...

It'd be one of the greatest assets against the Blight. Powerful, unrelenting, smart, immune to the Taint.

An advantage they couldn't pass up.

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

Bran and Loke lay their heads on the table, and Sereda unfurled a large old map with the others around her and the table. "The Deep Roads..." The former princess muttered with a huff.

Serana's eyes surveyed the map with every detail, "Just how big are the Deep Roads?"

"Our old empire stretched across nearly everywhere in Thedas. The Deep Roads were the network of tunnels we traveled to countless Thaigs and thriving communities." A bit of nostalgia glowed in Sereda's words, "Now it is all a death trap with Darkspawn and every other sort of monster lurking there."

Gin cocked brow, "Sounds homey. But just how long would we be down there?"

"Weeks?" That single word snapped everyone's attention to the dwarven woman, "Maybe longer?"

"La baise!?" Leliana shouted with shock in her eyes.

Zevran followed, "Estás bromeando?"

"The Deep Roads are MASSIVE," Faren spoke up beside Sereda, "I was only out there twice. Carta shit, and when I was exiled. And I got lost about ten times before running into her!" He thumbs to his fellow dwarf, who grunts.

Miara rubs her eyes, "Wonderful... Blackreach all over again..."

"It's okay, it's okay," Sarya raised her hands placatingly. "I already set up the fast travel runes for Orzammar. We can skip the whole journey back."

Sten made a sound of displeasure, once more showing what he thought of using that magic.

"However, I should point out I'm not too sure if it'll work on areas where there's a lot of lyrium," The dunmeri mage brought up. "Already, I have a lot of trouble using clairvoyance in those places. And I'm not even talking where it's visible; if it's around us in the cave system beyond view, then we've got trouble. The collective arcane energies of lyrium cause a lot of interference."

"Which could be anywhere in the Deep Roads," Sereda pointed out as she pursed her lips in thought. "Would it work if we just move to another area that's not surrounded by lyrium?"

"In theory, yes. It's just a matter of moving and testing."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," Marcus stated, "Sarya, keep our amulets recharged in case we need to leave swiftly."

"Got it,"

"Sereda," The Cousland turned to the exiled princess, "Bhelen said. Branka left for Ortan Thaig-"

"Where the Paragon Caridin forged the Anvil, yes." The dwarf nodded, leaning over the map to point at a location marked with dwarven runes. "The location of a lot of thaigs was lost, but we can more or less draw a good guess on where this one is. The problem, however..." She waved a the rest of the map, the whole swath in between Orzammar and the thaig's supposed location.

"Is that the paths are horribly outdated now," The dalish of the group mused, his experience as a tracker coming to the forefront. "We're talking about a millennium of cave-ins, earthquakes, collapses, and Darkspawn claiming the territories."

"Exactly," Sereda grimly nodded.

Gin rubbed his eyes. "So, it's a long trek through highly dangerous territory alongside possible rocks falling on us." He patted Bran's head who let out a whine. "So we have to be extra careful and cautious."

"We will definitely need plenty of supplies. Plus, we have to be particularly discreet when we make camp to rest down there," Sereda continued, "If we're lucky, we find a well-hidden area or a secure building we can fortify along with shifts to stand watch."

There was no middle ground in going into a place like the Deep Roads, which, again, reminded Miara more of Blackreach. Her memory was still a little murky about how long she had been down there all by herself until the others had found her. And outside that one incident, she swore off ever going back down to that nightmare ever again.

But thank her mother, this wasn't Blackreach. Yet it was just as deadly with all that was there. Absently, she tapped her swords. Thankfully, both would be of great assistance for the coming battles.

"Would torches draw attention?" Wynne questioned.

Sereda shrugged, "It depends on the area we will be in. But as Darkspawn can sense Grey Wardens."

"It is a moot point," Alistair quipped dryly.

"The Deep Roads are dangerous, but we'll be on guard," Marcus said with an even tone, confident but aware of the danger ahead of them. "Gather supplies, ready your equipment and anything else you need; we'll meet in an hour."

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

In a company, everyone stocked up on food and potions, but when it came to their fighting style, everyone focused on different things. Warriors tended to their weapons and armor, rogues prepared their arsenal of tricks and smaller weapons along with any ammunition they used, and mages prepared by stocking various alchemical mixes that could help the party.

So Neria was getting used to tending both her gear and spells. The swordless hilt of the arcane blade was a bit heavy, but at least it was well-balanced. She traced a finger over the projection matrix, looking for any signs of abnormality on the enchantments.

"Notice any flow disruption?" Sarya asked, "Wouldn't want the thing to fizzle out in the middle of a fight."

"It is in perfect shape," Neria assured her and her mother. "Unless something hits it or the hilt gets damaged, I shouldn't have any problem."

"I did my best to replicate the Arcane Warriors' gear," Miara said, "But it needed specific materials to channel the magic blade, and they are not the sturdiest, as well as the proper gems to inscribe the runes. The Dales' craft was something to behold, an elegant weapon that stands the test of time, even in a more modern age. It fits in the palm of your hand, so the odds of damaging it are minimal... Unless you drop it, then I'll be very upset."

The Circle mage chuckled nervously, "I promise I'll take good care of it." She stored the hilt on her belt.

"I get wanting to use a sword, but I rarely bother with them," Sarya shrugged, waving a hand. "I like shocking things with magic, and it's honestly far more satisfying and efficient. However, I still appreciate my sibling's use of magic in their styles. Sofie's Dragonknight arts and what she knows about the Thu'um. Oryrn's Templar magics." She gasped and held her hands to her mouth, "Oh no, sorry, I didn't mean to-."

"Sarya, it's okay," Neria said placatingly, raising both hands. "I don't get upset just by the mention of him."

"Oh... okay." Sarya pursed her lips and remained silent for about a second, "...Then can we talk about it? Because it's killing me."

Neria sighed and closed her eyes, and her mother gave her a look reserved for when she misbehaved, which happened often throughout her life, even in her adult years.

"I won't excuse my brother. I'm fully in Mama's opinion on that," The Telvanni wizard expresses, "But maybe explain something about why Oryrn was being a dumb dumb. You see, something happened to him on Solstheim when we were kids. it was-"

"I know about Wyndus and the Werebear."

Neria's words get the full attention of the mother and daughter, "You know?" Miara asked incredulously, "How?" As far as she knew, her son never spoke about that to anyone.

The Thedosian mage held her staff close, looking to the ground. "When we were trapped in the Fade at Kinloch Hold. I found Oryrn as a child with Wyndus in Raven Rock. I saw... Everything." Her voice grew quiet.

Miara loudly cursed in Dunmeri while Sarya looked horrified, "Of all the things to show... It had to be that!?"

"The demons of the Fade can be viciously cruel." Neria kept his eyes on the ground, "I never said anything out of respect for Oryrn."

Her rage simmered as the Fire Goddess calmed herself. "Thank you. For keeping that silent for my son." She ran her hand down her face, a huff escaping her lips. "In truth, Oryrn has been trying to make some meaning to his life since Wyndus died. He had poured his days into training as a warrior, learning from me, Serana, Paladins of Saint Alessia, and finally, a Templar Order."

"My brother put his entire life into being a defender and protector of the people," Sarya mused, rubbing her arms. "Eighteen years of traveling and fighting monsters and bandits, slavers, and other evil people."

"He made it his mission," Neria softly mused.

"His life," Miara said with wariness and a sense of exhaustion the thedosian elf had never seen on the Dragonborn before. Ageless as she was, with an eternal life ahead of her, right now Miara was looking so... old, to Neria. "We all have something we dedicate ourselves to, to make amends for past mistakes."

Neria didn't doubt she knew a thing or two about that...

"Oryrn's only mistake, the one he sees as a mistake anyhow, was surviving while his friend didn't."

That put a lot of things into perspective.

"My eldest brother knighted him, you know?" The Dragonborn gently said as she crossed her arms. "That's how driven Oryrn is on this path."

Neria did not understand what she meant by that. But considering she was speaking about one of her siblings she only mentioned in vague passing, he was no doubt divine in nature.

"Serana and I did everything we could to give our children the lives we were denied. From the moment we conceived them, with magic and ritual, it has been... an ordeal." She chuckled with a fond smile full of nostalgia. "Just trying to make Sarya and Oryrn come to be was a challenge in itself. The blood of Akatosh and Azura, add in the vampire blood? We had to take measures to give them as little tie to Molag as possible."

Sarya's expression was unreadable, save for the faint purse of her lips.

"And in the end, we set them off on their own. Sofie, Sarya here, Oryrn too, their paths are theirs. I cannot tell them what to do with their lives. I can only offer them counsel and hope they do the right thing." The next words were full of love and pride, "We are beyond proud of who they became. I just... wish Oryrn would care more about his own life to see he too deserves one... like you do, Neria."

The crux of the issue was Oryrn, Something Neria had given an outlook on since that time in the Fade. His immense selflessness was mixed with survivor's guilt—that he was alive and Wyndus was not—and that fact plagued the Dunmeri Templar every day of his life.

A realization came to the young elf: did Oryrn believe himself unworthy to be with someone? That with the life he chose isn't meant for another to be with him? Mother and daughter could see the thoughts running through Neria's eyes as they danced in every direction. "Neria?" hearing her name aroused her, and she looked at the two.

"I'll speak with Oryrn... when this is done here in Orzammar."

Miara nodded, "Of course."

"Well, I see I missed some drama." They heard Sofie approaching and saw the large warriors arrive with a (relatively) small nug under her arm, squeaking as it twitched and looked around in her grasp. "Can't say I'm sorry I missed it."

"Ohhh, who is this little guy?!" Miara cooed excitedly, planting her hands on her thighs as she leaned forward to look at the nug. Neria had seen the nugs around a lot here, they were... cute in a way, she supposed. But she certainly wasn't taken with them like Miara was, not with those hands.

"He's going to be dinner," Sofie happily supplied. "Just gotta fatten him up first."

Miara glared in disapproval at her eldest.

"Hey, you have a bunch of ugly critters for pets living in Moonshadow. If I want to eat one I bought, that's my business. Besides you, who'd want this thing as a pe-?"

"Ohhhhhhh!" And now came Leliana, who sounded even MORE excited than Miara as she approached Sofie, "It's one of those underground bunny pigs!"

"Nugs," Sarya supplied, smiling widely at her sister's glare.

Sofie looked concerned as her girlfriend cooed orlesian words with a cutesy inflection to her voice. "You bought this?" She looked at Sofie with eyes full of wonder. "For me?"

"Uh..." The nord warrior knew when she was defeated, so she had no choice but to say goodbye to her dinner plans. "Y-Yeah, sure did!"

She ignored the smug smirk on Miara's face as she handed the nug to Leliana, who held it like a puppy.

"Ohhh, he's snuffling me! Schmooples, schoomples~ Oh, that's a great name!"

Sofie let out a long sigh, giving her mother a long glare, "Not a word..."

"It is a good name."

Neria couldn't help but smile, hiding the mounting laughter behind a hand as she watched Sofie reluctantly accept the fact the two had a pet now.

It helped her to know that, regardless of the circumstances, Neria could always find joy in this family.

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

Oryrn sat calmly on the steps of the Proving bridge. His eyes fixed on his helmet in his armored hands. He paid no attention to the dwarves that walked past him, gazing at him for a moment, then going about their business. His mind wandered to the events this morning. Idly, his eyes glanced over to the sight of his elven mother and sister speaking with Neria outside their given residence.

"You seem troubled," He turned his gaze to Marcus, with Loke coming over to the Dunmeri Templar.

A low grunt escaped Oryrn's lips, "Possibly." He petted the Mabari on the head and ears. "Going to yell at me as well?"

The Cousland came and sat beside him. "No, I think your family and Neria did enough." He paused for a moment. "But I do have to ask, what were you thinking?"

The Templar breathed a long sigh, "...I thought I was looking out for Neria's benefit."

"Because?"

"I have spent nearly twenty years wandering Tamriel and helping people against monsters, daedra, corrupt and evil people." Oryrn looked in no general direction, "But being with someone... I... Never really thought about it. Ever... Just my duty as a Templar."

"Is your duty so strict it requires everything from you," Marcus asked, "even a life?"

"It felt so simple before," The dunmer muttered. "Someone once said; Only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile. Living for the sake of other people felt... right. Just"

Marcus let out a humming sound as he crossed his arms. "That way of thinking may be virtuous to a point. But discarding your own life like that..."

"It's not that I don't value it."

"But it's not as important as your duty."

At that, Oryrn remained silent.

"What oaths do you hold, truly, Oryrn?" The Cousland asked. "To which order you truly answer, who was it that knighted you that demands such strictness?"

The long-haired dunmer sighed, "My oaths are my own. I'm not a proper member of any order. As for who knighted me, it was my uncle, the God of War, Reymon Ebonarm."

"I see," It's clear a thousand questions ran through Marcus' head, but he chose to focus on the matter at hand. "You're the only one who holds your duty so unflinchingly, a duty that by all accounts is self-imposed."

Those words made Oryrn pause. He glanced at Marcus before looking back ahead. "You might be right." Imagines of the past flooded his mind, as vivid as the horrible day that happened so long ago. "Can I ask you something?" Marcus nodded while petting Loke, who came to his side, "What is it you want most in your life?"

"...Not exactly a simple question there..."

"I know. But call me curious."

Marcus leaned back for a moment before peering back at his faithful hound. "To have a family." He paused. "To have all my family back with me."

Understanding crossed Oryrn's eyes, remembering the events in the Fade. "Your father."

"And my sister-in-law. I'd give anything for my father and Oriana to be here still." Emotion came to Cousland's voice, "So my nephew wouldn't be screaming every other night with nightmares of his mother being murdered." He reigned in his emotions, recalling the letters his mother and Iona had sent him. "That father could see his new grandchild that is coming."

The Tamriel Templar remembered the joyous news about Iona, Marcu's lover, being pregnant with their first child together. That was the happiest day anyone had ever seen the former noble. As well as his elven mother practically dragging Marcus to visit Iona, his mother, and nephew in the Waking Sea hold of Bann Alfstanna. "Best four days for Marcus had since all this madness," as his mother put it.

Marcus heaved a sigh, "I want to be a father. More than anything else in the world."

"To be like your father?"

"Heh, no man alive could be like Bryce Cousland. Not even his sons. But I can be what he always taught me. To be a good man. Not perfect, just good."

"From knowing you, Marcus, I can say your father must have been a great man," the Templar said solemnly. "When the time comes to retake your home and bring vengeance upon Howe, we will all be there with you."

"Thank you, Oryrn," the Cousland softly said, touched by the camaraderie of these people who have warmed their way into his life. "His example guides me to this day, so I hope I can do right by him."

"Of that, you need not worry in the least." The dunmer smiled at him, showing how much respect he had for him. "You've been nothing but a righteous son of your homeland; your father would be proud."

"I strive to be; Ferelden demands nothing less in this dark hour," The Cousland said, for a moment showing how wary he was. The weight of responsibility was heavy indeed, so for a moment, Marcus let his guard down, knowing Oryrn would not judge him for it. "It's... tiring. So I'm grateful I have you all by my side."

"Think nothing of it, son of Bryce." The dunmer grinned.

Marcus smiled back, "I am curious, though. Your mother never spoke of your father, and I understand if it might be a sensitive subject."

"Oh, it's not actually. I never had one."

"Pardon?"

"Sarya and I have two mothers, no father."

"But how-?"

"Magic"

"...That would be the 'logical' explanation, I suppose," He said. "One day, I might ask your family for more lessons. So at least I can finally begin to understand what's happening around us half the time..."

Oryrn lightly chuckled, "If you have got a mind to learn spellcraft, I believe someone of your convictions would do very well with Tamrielic Templar arts."

"I appreciate it, but I am not a mage."

At that, the Templar snorted. "If Sarya's research is going as she expects it, that will not be an issue soon."

While the remarks were vague to Marcus, the forthcoming days of their journey would prove to alter the course of Thedas itself eternally.

And the revelations and reckoning to follow...

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

Gin sat quietly in the group's given complex, inspecting his daggers and Daveth's crossbow. Over nearly a year on their mission, he had become rather savvy in maintaining his weapons, learning whatever his comrades were willing to teach him. Gently, he moved his bosmeri dagger's edge against the whetstone miara gave him to keep the blade sharp.

Once he was done with that, he went to his other dagger and diligently sharpened the edge. His green eyes took notice of grey feminine hands reaching over and picking up Daveth's crossbow. It was Sarya who studied every detail of the weapon. "Ilen and Varathorn worked on this. Rebuilt the entire frame in Ironbark. With Mama's upgrades of ebony portions here and there."

The city elf did not look up from his work, "So you know more than just arcane stuff?"

"You have seen my family, right?" Sarya quipped with a snort, sitting down beside her fellow elf. "This belonged to someone you knew?"

"Daveth. And only knew him for a day at most back in Ostagar." Gin's eyes lost focus for a moment, "He died during the Joining."

Right, the initiation in becoming a Grey Warden. Avernus had fully explained the ritual while she was working with him, and Master alfe was working with him. Thinking on it, her master and the ancient Warden should be finishing up more of the experiments for the Joining. But that was an idle thought for later. "So you kept Daveth's crossbow?"

"He told me too. Along with his deck of cards for Diamond Back."

"Sounds like you two hit it off in the brief time you knew each other."

"He was a good shem," Gin said; there wasn't an accusation towards humans in his tone, just merely stating a fact. "Thief like us, we kinda... understand each other."

"I can tell," Sarya said, putting the weapon down. "'Thick as thieves' is a saying after all. You and Faren sure hang out often when the others aren't looking." She quirked a brow at him while smirking.

The blade froze against the whetstone. "...We're just 'requisitioning' things from folks with too much money and too few morals," he said. "We're Wardens; we're just doing what it takes to stop the Blight."

Sarya holds up her hands, "Hey, you don't have to sell me on it; my mom was a guildmaster for years. The way they operated under her was 'always steal from those with too much, and we're assholes.'"

"Your mother is so many things," Gin muttered, continuing with his work. "I lose tracks on them all. 'Thief' is so banal compared to... everything else."

"Very true," The dunmer mage said with a light chuckle, tilting her head as she grasped her hands behind her back.

The elves' green eyes flickered between her and his weapon a few times. "Can I help you with something, Sarya?" She had been acting rather odd lately around him. And he couldn't tell why, honestly. It was like he was a puzzle, and she was trying to figure him out. There was nothing to 'figure out'; he was open about most things—what was in his mind, what he believed, his views.

"I've been wondering, What are you going to do once the Blight is over?"

"What else is there?" He shrugs. "We kill the Archdemon, and we go on being Wardens. It's a lifelong thing," He paused, "A brief life."

"Are you forgetting Avernus' research?" she asked. "He could extend your lives far beyond the thirty-year timeframe."

That made Gin pause for a moment, "Could that even work with someone who already did the joining?"

"Never hurts to find out. The old human is making large strides with Master Alfe's help. So who knows," Sarya smirked, "You could be sticking around a lot longer."

That... That would sound wonderful... If he did not have to deal with the constant nightmares and the grim duty of the Wardens to face down Darkspawn and other monsters.

Tabris glanced at the dark elf, "Have to ask. What brought this on?" The Telvanni cocked a brow, "I mean, talking to me."

It was a fair question. "Well," Sarya began to walk around the table, "I have been to all kinds of places. There are so many infinite, countless worlds beyond Arubis." She saw Gin's blank look, "Arubis is the name of our reality."

He had heard that part from Miara a few times. "Our reality," he muttered, still not fully grasping it.

"Well, look at it this way. Our world is made up of continents, the seas, and mystical places like Fade, the many realms of the spirits and the gods. And the stars in the sky. That's one reality; ours is called Aurbis." She fiddled with her hand, looking for another way to explain it. "Imagine this world is an island; the stars are the sea. What I often do is travel to other 'islands,' places that can be as similar to our home as they can be completely different."

It was… hard to wrap his head around it. But it started to make a bit more sense. "Can't imagine that's easy."

"Oh, it is! Inter-realm travel is far from simple. But being a demigoddess does have perks," She winked before continuing, "And I have met so many amazing and unique people in those travels. But I always found the most intriguing individuals to be those who barely show who they really are."

Letting those words sink in for a moment, the city elf picked up on her meaning: "You think I'm one of those people?" The notion almost made Gin snort out a laugh: "Hate to break it to you, but what you see is what you get, Sarya. I keep it pretty simple."

"Do you now?" The Dunmeri wizard came back around to her fellow elf, "I don't believe that for a second," She chipped brightly.

"You don't know me."

"I'd like to," she said. "I can see something in you I don't think you can."

The elf refrained from rolling his eyes, "And what is that?"

"A dragon," The way she said it... unnerved him a bit. "Full of fire and rage."

Gin wanted to refute that. He may not be the most passionate of people, but he could not lie and say he didn't get angry sometimes. There was plenty an elf in Thedas could be angry about. It just wasn't worth acting on that anger; the best he could do, what he'd been doing all his life, was push that resentment away.

And it worked for him. There was no 'dragon' sleeping inside.

That's what he told himself, at least.

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

Miara knew what the core of her divinity was: Fire.

The heat of the forge to create.

The nature of the flames to bring change.

Power at its most primal, like the fires of the sun, like her Father.

The Dragonborn styled herself as the Goddess of Fire, and as such, she had an affinity for all sorts of sources of heat and flame. Lava was... not exactly fire; it was molten rock at incredibly high temperatures. But it could be called the primal origin of flames, so just standing by a lava pool in Orzammar's lower levels allowed her to contemplate it and feel at peace from its mere presence.

The sound of the lava falling from above and flowing into the pool below helped her mind be clear. A calm smile adorned her lips. "Please tell me you're not thinking of 'taking a dip.'" A deadpan came from the Overlord of dovah upon hearing the snarky words of her lover behind her.

"I'm not that dumb. I'm fire resistant, not 'molten rock resistant,'" Miara retorted, glancing back before her eyes followed Serana as she came and sat beside her on the stone bench.

Amusement dance on the vampire's face, "Some goddess of fire you are."

"Would be very different if I was at the tier of mom or dad. But, as I love being on Nirn and adore mortals as much as I do. I am perfectly happy as a mere med-level lesser Goddess."

"You just had to be like your older brother, didn't you?"

"And why I will always be there for Reymon."

Both lovers stare at each other before snickering and leaning against one another. "So," Serana mused, "Another underground adventure. We can't seem to get away from it."

"Well, as long we don't find a button connected to tonal magic and temporal displacement, I should be fine."

Serana deadpans, "And it isn't Blackreach either."

"Yup."

"So you alright then?"

"I am."

"What's got you so deep in thought?"

"Hmm," Miara crossed her arms, leaning slightly against Serana's shoulder. "You could say a bit of everything. This journey started as a mission for Nihlus; then it evolved into... all this. A quest to save the world."

"To be fair," the vampire grinned, amused. "That's how it usually goes with you," and every Doom-Driven hero, for that matter.

"I'm just realizing how... important this place has become. To us," Miara explained, looking intently into the lava, her red eyes lost themselves in its orange glow. "It's not just the friends we've made. Thedas has started to leave its mark on our lives. Sofie found love here,"

Serana smiled gently. Her gesture was so small it betrayed how overjoyed she felt, "I've never seen her so happy."

Miara shared her happiness, uncrossing an arm to intertwine their fingers together. Her smile was momentary as she thought about their son. "Oryrn and Neria... they're working things out," The dunmer sighed. "I can only hope it ends up for the better."

"Mhmm," The vampire slowly nodded, feeling the same concern.

"This place is a side of Nirn that's been left by the gods for a long time, and it's... no coincidence things lined up for me to get here. For us to meet these folks, It's *never* a coincidence."

A frown grew on Serana's brow, "...The Thalmor..."

For a moment, her elven lover's eyes matched the lava before calming herself, "I should have known that fucking bitch Elenwen found a way to escape with Ondolemar."

"Naarifin."

The mere mention of that name still brought a shiver down the very goddess's spine. "I wish that monster stayed dead."

"If he was ever dead, to begin with. As you told me, the reports were always hazy on him," As Serana was only given secondhand knowledge on that most infamous thalmor butcher and saw the visible fear in many just speaking the man's name alone. However, there was a particular individual who led them, and the vampire deeply wished she had never known. "...We... We can't forget... Solinar."

A faint tremor shook the area from Miara's growl. The last line of Ayrenn Arana Aldmeri, the final Queen of Summerset and the true mastermind of the Third Aldmeri Dominion. Eternally vowed retribution upon the Dragonborn, turning herself into something beyond mortal to oppose the Fire Goddess forever. "If that woman doesn't want her head cut off again, she will stay in Oblivion."

"I think we can both agree Solinar won't stay idle forever."

Miara sighed, "I know." She gave Serana an apologetic look with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, but I get the feeling Thedas will have to be our home for a few years." 'A few' being relative to two immortals like them.

Serana smiled lovingly at her, "Anywhere with you is my home." The vampire's hand reached to grasp Miara's cheek as the two leaned in to share a soft and slow kiss.

The two embraced, sharing the simple comfort of their bodies holding each other, where they remained for a while, staring into the glowing orange glare.

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

Marcus knelt with Miara, who adjusted one final belt on Loke's armor. "This won't be too heavy on him or Bran?" Neria spoke up beside her mabari, who the Dunmeri women first fixed up.

"Mithril is the lightest metal on Nirn. And for our furry friends will be very protected." The Dragonborn rubbed Loke's head, earning a lick on the face before putting on his helmet. She grinned, standing with her hands on her hips, "Now you two look like proper war hounds of the Legion." Both dogs barked, getting an eye roll from the elf, "Noble knights of Thedas."

Gin leaned to Sarya, "I swear she can really talk to animals."

"Cause she can!"

"...Of course, she can..."

Despite some bouts of joy, others kept their moods serious as they stood at the top of the stone steps leading down to the entrance of the Deep Roads. Sten looked over Asala, "It will be a five-day journey to this Ortan thaig?" His question was to Sereda, who stood beside him and Faren.

"Yes. We can start investigating once we get there." The exiled princess stared at the helmet she had to purchase from Janar since she destroyed her other. Volcanic Aurum and is surprisingly one of Janar's best (no doubt to keep them quiet about his Carta ties).

"Did Schmooples have to go to Soldier Peak?" Leliana pouted.

Serana dryly stared, "He won't be by himself. And safer there than with us where we're going."

"Alright." Sofie patted the back of her lover in comfort that was welcomed. While also side-glaring at her vampiric mother's not-so-subtle smirk.

"Listen up," Sereda called everyone's attention. "We'll get through a few outposts until we're outside the army's reach. We might be able to find detachments from the Legion of the Dead; they venture further in than the military after all, but once we reach a certain point, we're on our own. Stay close, stay together, and-"

"Wait!" A rough, growling voice called out, interrupting the Warden-to-be. "Wait a sodding moment!" The group all turned at once to see a familiar red-haired bearded dwarf running towards them, his silvery armor clinking with each step as mail and plate shifted with his rapid movements. He came to a sudden stop before the group, huffing, his cheeks going half as red as his hair. "Can't even give a guy the decency to shake off his hungover, grk." He held a hand to his mouth, steadying himself so he wouldn't barf right in front of them.

"Oh, for Ancestor's sake," the dwarven woman said in exasperation, approaching the dwarven man. "I can imagine you heard what our mission is, Oghren."

"Damn right, I did! Listen here, princess-"

"Not a princess anymore, lieutenant."

"Well, how about that? I ain't a lieutenant anymore!"

"Wonderful," Sereda deadpanned.

"Listen, if you're looking for Branka, then you better take me with you!" Oghren barked, puffing his chest and assaulting Sereda's nostrils with his foul breath. "I spent two sodding years barking at the Assembly to send someone; now I don't care what Bhelen wants, so long as someone is looking for my wife, you can be damn sure I'll be going too!"

"Kondrat, you've been drinking yourself to oblivion in a way even Orzammar thinks it's unhealthy. I have little reason to believe you're fit for this, let alone hold your axe straight!"

"I can hold my axe ten times better drunk than any of Kardel's bronto-shitting guards can sober!"

Faren came over to Sereda's side, "He can actually. I've seen him thrash Kardel's guards with a mug on his head, dancing while naked."

While more than a few in the group recoiled with disgust, a snorted laugh came from Miara, "I've done that!" Several heads snapped her way with visible shock on their faces.

"HAH!" Oghren points at the dunmer with a smile. "I like you, elf!" He pauses, blinking. "Are you grey, or am I seeing things?"

"I'm grey."

"Ooohhhh."

Shaking her head, Sereda rubbed her eyes with exasperation. While it was widely regarded that Oghren was one of the greatest warriors of this generation, that honor had long since faded when he became an incoherent drunkard. "You would be more a burden than help to us as you are."

Oghren snorted, "My stone sense hasn't dismissed a single bit! And I know how to track my damn wife better than any of you can!"

"Perhaps he could help us," Leliana raised her voice in a placating manner.

"We have enough people," Sereda countered, wanting to get this over with.

"Another Stone sense can always help." Faren shrugged, and Sereda shouldn't have been surprised he argued in Oghren's favor. "Come on, Oghren's been to the Deep Roads a hundred times. Sober him up, and he'll be chopping Blighters in no time."

"I have a potion for that," Miara shrugged as she crossed her arms. "You know it works fast."

Even as the lady dwarf still looked uncertain about it, the bard pleaded with her with a gentle look and a voice full of empathy. "Sereda, it's his wife."

...Ancestors, it wouldn't be fair to Oghren. Already, his entire family had abandoned him, along with most of Orzammar. Here she was, finding she had something in common with the damn drunkard. She had to remember her friends had been there for her during her lowest moments, so who was she to deny someone who needed aid after what she went through?

Even if that someone was a man who looked like he might get sick of her at any moment.

"Sober him up," Sereda droned as her shoulders sagged.

"Head's up, my friends," Miara said with humor in her voice as she rummaged through her pouch, pulling out a very small vial. "You're about to see a man lose his breakfast, dinner, and lunch in that order."

The red-haired dwarven man warily stared at the vial the tall grey elf had brought over. "Do I have to drink that?"

"For everyone's sake, yours, and for your wife. Yes." She leaned forward with the vial up to her face, "It will taste horrific, and you'll feel even worse, but after I assure you-" Miara trailed off, noticing Oghren was staring at her hanging endowed breasts. "I freely admit being a total slut, but even I have boundaries."

"Because I'm a drunkard or a dwarf?"

"Because you're married."

"Right."

Gin dryly crossed his arms, "Well, she does have standards."

"I am genuinely surprised," Theron droned back.

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

Oghren groaned with a pale complexion, drinking some water from a skin, "Don't think I'll get the taste out of my mouth."

"At least you're sober," Faren offered with a grin that the redheaded warrior grunted back.

The two dwarven men walked beside Sereda, who took the lead with Bran and Loke close. The rest followed suit as they had just passed one of the battlements to go into the Deep Roads proper. Their eyes were greeted with a colossal carved tunnel with gigantic pillars on either side that stretched on for miles and miles with no end. From the walls to the floor beneath their feet and the ceiling above were artworks from the lost past of the ancient dwarves.

"Incredible," Sofie commented with awe in her voice.

"How is there any light down here?" Alistair wondered out loud.

"Glowing gem-infused lights spread around the tunnels," Sereda explained. "A lot of the Deep Roads have a plethora of crystals that keep most chambers and pathways illuminated. And if we go through caves or other paths, there might be glowing mushrooms. It's no daytime, but for the most part, the Deep Roads will be well-lit unless they're in a bad state or we are unlucky enough to go through areas that lack any illumination."

"Skyrim's underground could have used more light..." The vampire grumbled in an annoyed aside to her beloved.

"Tell me about it," The dragonborn replied.

"So we follow this path, correct?" Marcus asked, bringing up the map and kneeling so Sereda could look at it.

"Hmm, we have to follow the western passage; from there, keep traveling southwest until we reach Ortan thaig."

Sarya held up her hand, "I may not be able to cast proper divination over the wider Deep Roads as a whole, but a bit of clairvoyance to find the right path is still very doable!" A gentle shine of magical mist emanated from her hand as her eyes seemed to see something the others could not. "Yup, like Sereda says, that way!"

"Think you can find the right path?" Sereda asked the mages.

Serana answered, "So long as we have a general idea of where we are going, we should be able to. More precise than that will be far more difficult; clairvoyance is a low-level divination spell."

"Well, that's why you got us here," Faren smirked, jabbing a thumb to his leather chest-piece. "Three dwarves with Stone Sense, one of them who can tell Branka's signs? Ain't no way this group is getting lost."

"The Paragon Branka had an entire clan of her kin, and yet they never returned," Sten's rumbling voice pointed out.

A few sighs and groans rang through the group.

"Optimism," Alistair gave him a dry look, "We talked about it."

"A foolish concept in the face of reality."

"Anyway," Marcus put the tomfoolery to an end before it could escalate as he stashed the map away. "Let's continue..."

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

If there was one thing Miara understood from delving into Dwemer ruins, it was that time can almost feel like it has little meaning. It could also mess with a person's day and night cycle, which was showing for some by the second day of their expedition. Thankfully. Oghren also understood this and advised Neria and the others who were having trouble pacing themselves for the underground journey.

For at least three days into the journey, it was relatively quiet. Outside of encountering a clutch of hungry Deepstalkers and a small goblin-like race Leliana explained were called Ghast. While timid on their own, if they are in groups, they are quite vicious for creatures smaller than Riekling. But it was by the fourth day they had started encountering Darkspawn and corrupted creatures tainted by the Blight.

While the fights were harsh, the group pushed through with steel resolve towards their destination of Ortan Thiag.

Day Five

A Hurlock howled in pain with its body engulfed in holy fire by Dawnbreaker's fury. It roared in suffering before becoming ashes as it fell, dying. Miara huffed while the rest of her group took down the remaining Darkspawn group they encountered near vast and massive dwarven ruins.

Ortan thaig...

Gin ducked under the swipe of a Hurlock's axe and plunged his daggers into the blighter's chest. At the same moment, a blast of arcane energy blasted the abomination's head cleanly off. Sarya cheered for a moment before Bran leaped in front of her to attack a charging Genlock, "Good war hound! Extra treats later!"

Engram impaled a Shrieker's skull before Marcus killed the dead Blighter with his boot.

"Tell me we're seeing signs of your wife, Oghren!" the Cousland exclaimed, teeth clenched as he surveyed the area. They were nearing tunnels, which split into multiple directions. Any of them could take them to the center of the thaig proper.

And, of course, darkspawn were crawling out from all of them.

"Let you know once the Blighters are dead!" The dwarf bellowed as he buried his great axe in a hurlock's chest, cutting right through the rusted metal and flesh, huffing as he yanked the weapon out of the body.

"There's more on the way!" Alistair warned them, blocking a blast of arcane magic from one of the emissaries before directing a Smite that stunned the creature. The shockwave from the blast knocked the blighters around it on their backs.

"They're trying to circle us, don't let them!" Miara shouted; Dawnbreaker glowed fiercely as azure and golden flames ignited the foul Tainted beings, while Starfang unleashed icy winds that struck with sharp ice.

Her instincts were shouting at her, telling her something was going wrong. The darkspawn were plenty, no doubt, but they were holding their own like always. Yet the experienced adventurer part of her couldn't help but scream for them to move, to get out of the tunnels and into the greater thaig before it was too late.

Among the myriad of darkspawn crawling from the entrances around them, Miara spotted one of the emissaries in the back, waving its arms around as it prepared to cast a spell.

Her keen ears heard the ringing sound of magic in another direction, and to the right, she spotted another emissary doing the same. Channeling magic for a spell about to be unleashed upon them. They were working together, using their arcane power at the same time... using their kin as a distraction.

Miara's lips were already channeling a Shout instinctively. "Wuld Nah Kest!"

She became a blur, a violent burst of speed that cut through every blighter on her path. Reaching one of the emissaries in an instant as she struck with both her blades, the divine metals created an X-like shape when they cut through its dark flesh, its body freezing and being set aflame at the same time.

She was about to do the same to the other, uncaring that it'd hurt her throat.

But she was too late.

The Darkspawn spread its arms wide, and a torrent of magic was unleashed upon the chamber, rattling the walls and the ground as it passed through them, yet it did not hurt either ally or enemy.

The Wardens and their allies stared in shock as the last of the Darkspawns retreated, scampering away like frightened creatures. Shaking off the sudden wave of magic that had washed over them, they barely had time to ponder what the emissary had done... when the cavern began trembling.

"Oh... Fuck" Serana muttered, gazing upwards before everything turned black as rock and earth came crashing down.

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

A low groan escaped Neria's lips. Dust, dirt, and small rocks were all over her face, and her hair was sprawled out like a cloak. Letting out a cough, she opened her eyes to be greeted by a blur. Shifting her head, her amber eyes began to focus on the sight of her staff smashed by several large rocks. It was then she felt something heavy on top of her, turning her head once more before shock glowed in her amber eyes, "...Oryrn..." Her voice was raspy before coughing again.

Lying unconscious was indeed the Tamriel Templar, but with his helmet nowhere in sight. As well as large rocks on top of him. Blood and gashes covered portions of his head and face, "Oryrn." Again, he did not respond, and she felt her heart quicken, "Oryrn!"

Only silence...

Panic set in before the sight of Shale breaking through a wall of stone, "Accursed Blighters and their damnable magic," It grumbled, shaking off the debris from its body.

"Shale!" Its glowing eyes soon set on the Circle elf, who had the grey elf Templar on top of her, with rocks on top of them. "Please! Help us!"

Without a word spoke the golem came over in large strides. Effortlessly toss the large stones off the two elves. Neria quickly scooted out from underneath the dunmeri man and, with Shale's aid, turned him on his back, out of reflex, summoned candlelight to give more illumination to the darkened-destroyed tunnel. Neria quickly leaned her head down to Oryrn's mouth. Relief and tears came to her as she heard and felt Oryrn breathing.

"Is he dead?"

Neria did not answer Shale at first as she examined the Templar's body. Remarkably his armor was not even broken or crushing into his limbs. Hell, she didn't even see a dent in the dark armor. Strongest metal on Nirn, indeed. But that didn't still mean Oryrn wasn't injured, as his head and face showed well enough. Arcane energies glowed from Neria's hand to allow her healing magic to mend whatever wound he had sustained.

"He's alive," Neria's voice was horse with panic and grief, "He is not going to die while I draw breathe." She looked up to the Golem, "Please go find the others."

"Very well."

Neria watched as the golem proceeded to pull a large rock that had been pinning Oghren and Faren to the ground. She focused on the dunmer again, redoubling her efforts. Thankfully her magic seemed to be working, as Oryrn grimaced and groaned, eyes slowly fluttering open. "Don't strain yourself," The mage spoke.

Oryrn still raised a shaky hand, and a wave of gold washed over him, bringing some respite as he seemed to sigh in relief. "I'm okay..."

"I just told you-!"

"I'll be fine," He cut her off, slowly sitting up. "Go find the others first."

What an obstinate man...

A bark called her attention, and she saw her hound hopping from place to place, dirty but otherwise unharmed. "Take it easy, and I mean it," she stressed the last words as a warning before quickly approaching Bran to pet him. "I'm so glad you're okay, boy..."

Her dog ran off, sniffing around and guiding her to other people caught in rubble. She saw Sten's large frame half buried by a pile of stones, and with a careful wave of her hand, she removed the earth before casting a healing spell and allowing him to stand up as though nothing had happened. Once more, Neria was impressed by the qunari's physical capabilities; even with a healing spell on them, not many could stand up so fast like that. "Sten, help the others."

"Yes," The tall man rumbled, wasting no time in adding lending the golem a hand. Although he pulled Zevran back to his feet a little roughly, she was certain the antivan didn't mind under these circumstances.

"Little help here!" She heard Sofie's voice, and Neria's eyes widened as she saw the Dragonforged supporting a whole boulder with her back, making her knees buckle under the strain; her muscles were larger than usual, bulging with glowing veins like magma as her skin became jagged with scale-like rocks. Poor Leliana stood before her, looking for any way to help, but found none.

"This boulder rolled down right over Sofie!" The bard said with urgency.

"At least I..." Even with her draconian might, the nord struggled, "can handle it!" Anyone else would have been flattened under it.

Neria outstretched both her hands with magic radiating from her fingers. The large boulder glowed and slowly moved off of the Nord woman. "Shale!"

The Golem grunted before grabbing the boulder, much to the relief of Sofie, who nearly collapsed forward but was caught by Leliana and Sten. Her body began to return to its normal form while their stone friend effortlessly crushed the rock in its hands. Neria lowered her hands as she quickly came over to the Nord.

Dust, dirt, and blood came off a groaning Zevran, who, despite the aid from Sten and Shale, was very unsteady before sitting on the ground with a groan. He gazed at the unconscious forms of Oghren and Feran, "Bueno, eso apestó." He muttered under his breath.

While unable to stand fully, Oryrn crawled over to the two unconscious dwarves. Golden light covered his hands, and he looked at Zevran, "I'll look you over once I get these two up."

"Not that I don't appreciate that. But you look worse off than me, my friend."

The Dunmer whipped blood off his gashed forehead, "I'm fine, Zev."

"Mierda." Zevran bluntly retorted back in Antivan.

"HELP!" Heads shot forward or turned as everyone heard Morrigan yell out with hysteria and distress further ahead of them. "Sarya's hurt!" Those words sent a surge of adrenaline through Oryrn's body as it moved almost on its own. Forcing himself to stand before following Bran, who dashed ahead, barking. Sten glanced to Neria, who nodded, and the Qunari followed the Dunmeri man and Mabari.

Sofie looked hard at the former Circle Mage, "Go to my sister. Please."

"Are you sure?" The nord woman nodded before the elf quickly stood and ran.

Leliana knelt with her lover, "Mon amour?"

"It is just muscle strain. I need a rest."

Oryrn pushed through the pain roaring in his body, letting his ears help guide him as he listened to Bran's barks and Morrigan's cries for help. He barely noticed Sten beside him as they kept moving forward.

His heart stopped when he saw his twin sister lying on the ground, her head resting on top of Morrigan's lap, bleeding. The swamp witch's hands hovered over the wound, glowing with healing magic as she tried to fix the damage. "Come on, come on..." She muttered, and they saw a look on her face, an expression the witch had never displayed when they'd known her. Desperation, fear. "Wake up, damn you!" She hissed, her shoulders shaking as a sob struggled its way out of her throat.

Oryrn knelt by his sister; a wave of relief washed over him as he saw her chest slightly rise and fall. She was breathing, good, that was good. But the head wound... a rock must have knocked her out; she most likely had a concussion.

Neria soon arrived to come beside Sten, Bran, and Oryrn. She knelt by the witch, "Morrigan, I need you to let me help."

The witch almost ignored her. "We can't treat her here; we need to go to the keep!" She clenched her necklace with the fast travel gem, and her eyes widened in panic when this one did nothing. "Why is it not working!"

"We must be under too much lyrium," Oryrn guessed, recalling Sarya's words from a few days ago. "Too much interference"

"Blast!" The witch kept her healing, even if her magic flickered from overuse, draining her reserves. "I won't let her die!"

"You won't," Neria carefully said, trying to get the witch to cooperate. "But you need to stop. Let me take over."

"I can do it," Morrigan said, her voice pitiful instead of the self-assured confidence and proud tone she usually spoke with. "I'm not letting her go."

"You're not," Oryrn muttered, slowly holding up a hand. "It's okay, we have her."

The witch's face shifted through a myriad of emotions: frustration, fear, anger, and resignation. Her eyes quivered, and tears ran down her cheeks, cascading black trails through her make-up and the dirt caking her cheeks. "Don't let her die," she begged them. "Not her. I can't lose her. I-I can't...!"

She sobbed, openly weeping this time.

"We won't," Neria promised her with absolute firmness. "But you need to stop casting so I can take a look."

Morrigan's hands trembled, and the glow slowly ceased.

Gently, Neria moved Sarya's unconscious form to the ground, Morrigan's tearful eyes never leaving the dunmeri woman's sight. The witch did not react when Oryrn knelt to her with a hand on her back, "What happened?"

The shaking, grief-stricken witch turned her amber eyes to Sarya's twin brother. They were wide with redness and tears, never ceasing their fall. Her lower lip trembled, "She... She saved me..." Oryrn was taken aback when the human woman wrapped her arms around his armor chest, her sobs ringing through his chestplate. For a moment, he hesitated, looking at Neria, who was in equal shock before with Sten offering a cocked brow.

Slowly, the Templar put his arms around Morrigan to console her. "Thank you for trying to heal her," he voiced softly.

"..." Morrigan was quiet for a moment, "She is my friend."

That had to be the sincerest words they had ever heard from Morrigan's lips.

A whimper came from Bran, who lay beside Sarya, and his master, whose hands glowed over the Telvanni wizard. "No internal injuries," Relief once more came to Oryrn with an exhale of breath, "but her right arm is broken, and she has a nasty gash on her head."

"Likely a concussion as well." Neria sharply looked to Oryrn before looking back.

Neria did not take her eyes off Sarya as she began to heal their companion. "Sten, could you keep watch for any dangers till the others get to us?"

"Yes."

"Good. Take Bran with you," The mabari barked as he sat up and went to the Qunari, who drew Aslala.

Oryrn, who still held a trembling Morrigan, looked to the Thedosian elf, "I could help him."

"Can you look me in the eye and tell me you are in fighting shape right now?" The former Circle mage turned her gaze, her amber eyes staring into crimson. "I am not letting you get more injured than you already are." Oryrn was about to speak when Neria interrupted, "Am I clear, Redoran?!" She raised her voice slightly with authority.

"You are."

"Heal yourself, and if you have enough magic, help me with your sister." Neria's voice grew gentler. "Morrigan." The grief-stricken witch turned a shaken gaze to the young elven woman. "I'm not letting anyone die here, Morrigan. I promise you. But for that, I need your help too, okay?"

Morrigan could only stare at her before shakily nodding, finally detaching herself from the Dunmeri Templar. "W- What do you need?" The witch's voice was still a broken mess.

"I need you to wrap bandages around Sarya's head and put her arm in a sling. Can you do that?" Morrigan nodded again, "Thank you." With those words, Neria resumed her work.

A glowing hand from Oryrn went to the gnarly gash on his head while Morrigan's shaky hands went into her satchel. She paused for a long moment before looking at both elves. Her eyes lingered on them for the longest moment before getting the items she needed. The Dunmeri Templar felt the wound on his head mend along with the pain in his body also fading away. But as Neria said quite bluntly. He was not in any fighting shape at the moment.

Lowering his hand once he knew his healing was finished, he observed his fellow elf, who worked diligently on his twin. Even amid the crisis, Oryrn couldn't help but feel proud of Neria right now.

He just hoped the others were okay...

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

It all happened so fast. Not only did the emissaries lay out a trap, but they also split up their group with this damn cave-in. But Miara could not deal with those bastards at the moment. She looked down at the elf in her arms, and she knew without a doubt that Gin was going to die.

The jagged piece of rock piercing his lung would ensure it.

No amount of healing, particularly in these conditions, would help him. Not with so much blood lost already. Restoration magic had its limits. Gin's life force was slowly slipping away with all the blood dribbling from his wound and mouth. The choked sounds coming from him were haunting. Fear glowed in his green eyes, which were as wide as possible, staring up at her.

Despite her injuries, Serana used her supernatural strength to lift the rocks, pinning Marcus down as Loke whined at his side. The Cousland's shape was rough but far better than most of the others. The Nordic vampire made certain to check the young unconscious man before she felt the hunger for blood override her senses. She reached for and grabbed a blood potion from her pouch. She had snapped off the lid and downed the precious lifeblood she stored down her throat. Within moments, her vampiric regeneration fixed her damaged body.

Close by them, Wynne was unconscious, and Brianna was hurrying to help check if she was alright. Alistair huffed as he pulled Theron out from a pile of rubble, thanking whatever God was watching over them that he wasn't badly hurt. Sereda hissed with her dislocated foot. The exiled princess kept her teeth clenched to keep the shout of pain from slipping through, instead coming out as a fierce growl.

Gin gasped, more blood coming from his mouth.

She couldn't do anything to save her life. Was the promise of an afterlife all she could do for him? For the young man who lived his entire life in squalor and yet didn't hesitate to fight alongside his comrades?! He was dying in her arms, and she couldn't do anything!

...

...

No... There was one thing. But...

Would she really gamble with his fate like this?

But if she didn't, Gin would die regardless.

At least with this, he had a chance.

"Gin," Miara muttered as she cradled his head. "I might be able to save your life."

The city elf's eyes were half-focused on her, hearing her words even as his life slipped away from him drop by drop.

"I can't promise it'll work." She grabbed Starfang's edge with her hand, squeezing so the blade would cut her skin and draw blood. "I can give you my blood and hope it'll turn you like Sofie."

His eyes widened slightly; the only sounds coming from his mouth were choked breaths.

"But it's no certainty," She warned him as she drew her bloodied palm close. "It might kill you, or drive you mad, or... turn you into an abomination that will relentlessly kill and destroy."

Gin's mouth trembled. It hurt to breathe so much...

"You will die anyway if I don't try, but what you will become... that I cannot control," The Dragonborn said remorsefully. "Do you accept, Gin Tabris? Will you partake in my blood for a chance to live?"

The Warden only looked at her; pain wrecked his body as his mind slowly slipped away into numbness and a dark haze. He was barely capable of thought at this point. All he could see were the faces of his father, Soris, and Shianni, a life that had long since been denied to him, sequestered in the slums of the alienage.

Was this how he would die? In the dark, far beyond his home?

No… No, gods damn it…It will not be like this!

Gin wanted to live.

He ever so subtly nodded and chose his fate.

He let out a sharp gasp as Miara ripped the jagged rock from his chest, letting his precious blood flow all the more freely.

Then she hovered her hand over his mouth and squeezed, letting the drops fall into his already bloody mouth.

"May Akatosh's blood embrace you... my Dragonforged."

Was this actually blood? This was nothing like the Joining ritual. That had to be the most cursed essence he ever drank in his life. But this... This was anything but. It felt like liquid fire going down his throat. Burning him, but also soothing at the same time. There were no words to describe the feeling.

His head shot upwards, his eyes bulging with a gasp escaping his mouth. Miara's turned to the hole in the young elven man's chest. Relieved tears came as the wound was beginning to close itself, the internal damage rapidly healing. Moving her hand away from Gin's mouth, she ever so gently raised his upper torso so as not to let the wound on his back get stuck from the jagged rock's base. Tabris's breathing became more steady as the wound finally healed, both internally and externally.

Never in Gin's life had he ever shown such a level of gratitude in his eyes as he did now, looking at Miara, who held him. Her magic quickly healed her cut hand, and relief glowed in her tearful crimson gaze. "Thank. You." The young elf spoke weakly.

"You are welcome, Gin Tabris." She leaned in, kissing his forehead before laying him down on the ground again. "Rest." He nodded, taking in every grateful breath he could.

A low, painful moan came from Marcus as he opened his eyes to see Serana and Loke looking down at him. His loyal hound licking his face happily. "How do you feel?" the Nordic vampire questioned.

"Like a bunch of heavy rocks hit me," The Cousland muttered before weakly rubbing his dog's face.

"Accurate." The undead woman quipped as she helped the man sit up with a Loke dancing and barking. "He'll be fine, Loke."

"Is there a potion for a dislocated foot?" Sereda hissed, sitting on the ground.

Brianna looked over while she was waving her healing magic over a now-stirring Wynne. "I'll be with you in a moment," she expressed calmly.

With a few pats from Alistair, Theron finally woke up before coughing up some dust and dirt from his mouth. "Oh, thank the Maker." The former Templar huffed with a calming breath.

The Dalish looked up to the human man, "Ma serannas," Theron muttered in between coughs.

"What friends and comrades do."

Serana looked over to her Dunmeri lover, who gave a thumbs-up to show everything was okay.

But that was not to be the case...

Alistair and Theron, along with Bri's heads, snapped upwards and to the right before everyone soon heard and saw moving rubble in the distance. "We're going to have company!" Alistair called out. "Not the friendly kind!"

Damnation. With Wynne, Gin, Marcus, and Sereda still recovering, they were down to four people. Miara did not feel safe using any of the stronger Shouts underground, or else they would be completely buried this time.

They had to make a stand, cut down the bastards, and protect the others.

Miara held Starfang in her right hand. The blade glowed with its ethereal lines in the darkness and, with her left, reached for Dawnbreaker... only to grasp the air.

The dunmer frantically looked to her hip, and the first thing she noticed was Dawnbreaker's glow missing entirely. The second thing she instantly noticed was that the damn sword was gone.

...Meridia took it from her...

After thirty years, the Prince decided it had been enough time, and now she was bereft of a superbly powerful holy weapon that was extremely effective against the Blighters when they were about to swarm them again.

"Meridia, you sanctimonious bitch!"

Serana was secretly cheering that the damn sword was finally gone. And immensely annoyed that NOW Meridia decided to take it back when they needed it most!

Miara seethed but kept her focus with fire forming on her left hand. "M-Miara!" She sharply looked back to see Gin trying to stand.

"You are in no condition; keep down, Gin!" Ysmir outright ordered with an authoritative roar. Her head returned forward, seeing claws starting to come through the dirt and rocks, "Serana! Guard the others!"

Drawing her father's katana, she stood ready, "They won't come an inch close to anyone!"

Soon, arcane energy blasted through the rubble before the remaining emissaries who caused this floated through with their blighted kin rushing from behind them. A deep guttural laugh came from the magic using Darkspawn.

"...Dinok. Meyz. Fah. Hi..." Miara growled before dashing for her prey with her sword in one hand and fire in the other.

Despite being ordered to stay put, Gin still struggled to stand. His green eyes watched every detail of Miara crossing blades with a Hurlock before blasting its head cleanly off with a fireball. She soon leaped over, charging Genlock with singing axes, and rushed towards the emissaries, who began to use their magic again to attack her. Yet his body fought against him, and the soreness of his near-fatal injury weakened him greatly.

He paid no attention to Serena and the others' instructions not to move. There was no way he was going to lay there and let the person who saved him fight alone! Yes, he knew she was a goddess and could likely handle the whole damn Deep Roads by herself!

But that didn't matter! Gin wasn't going to stand aside and let his friends fight alone!

'Come on, damn it!' He roared in his mind as he turned onto his hands and knees, 'You're a Grey Warden Gin Tabris! Darkspawns are your enemies to fight!' Dodging several fireballs and destroying one with her own, Miara leaped high and over one of the emissaries to bring down Starfang with a perfect downward slash. Black-tainted blood spewed everywhere, and the emissary's body fell into two pieces onto the ground.

Gin clawed at the ground before his entire body became still. Even his enraged expression changed in an instant. He felt and heard nothing but his heartbeat, which was growing louder and louder. For the briefest of moments, he felt himself standing in front of a gigantic black-scaled dragon with glowing crimson eyes glaring back at him.

Then reality returned before he let out a deafening scream as his pain erupted through his entire body. He collapsed on the ground, writhing. A cold chill ran down Serana's spine at the sight. "What is wrong with Gin!?" Brianna called out to Serana, who did not respond. Her vampiric eyes stayed fixed on her Warden companion.

Oh, Gods, it was happening now!

Louder and louder came Gin's screams of agony, which soon reached Miara, glancing from the corner of her eye. She could feel the dread building in her, but the Dragonborn couldn't get back to Gin in times as more of the Blighters came for her. Until even they froze in place, their heads turning towards the screams that were getting less and less...

...mortal...

Gin's body sharply sat up as he stared upwards and opened his mouth, but what came out was not another scream. But a draconian roar soon shook the area.

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