The Calm Before the Commotion

It had been a week since Duran, Gorim, Adela, and Oghren began preparing for their expedition into the Deep Roads. Every detail of the journey needed to be meticulously planned—the supplies, the routes, and the risks. They knew the dangers of the Deep Roads all too well. Branka's disappearance loomed over them, a shadow of uncertainty that made every decision weightier.

Tapster's Tavern had become their de facto war room. The rough-hewn table in their corner was covered in maps and lists, illuminated by the warm glow of lanterns. Around them, the tavern hummed with the usual cacophony of drunken laughter and clinking mugs.

"Alright," Duran said, scanning the supply list for the hundredth time. "We've got food, water, weapons, torches… but we're still missing a reliable source of explosives for sealing tunnels."

Oghren leaned back in his chair, nursing a tankard of ale. "Bah! Explosives are overrated. Give me a good axe and some muscle, and I'll collapse a tunnel myself."

Adela arched an eyebrow. "You do realize the Deep Roads aren't made of rotting wood, right? They're stone. Solid stone."

"And I'm solid muscle," Oghren shot back, flexing exaggeratedly.

Gorim chuckled, shaking his head. "We're already going to be hauling more than enough supplies. Let's not add Oghren's inflated ego to the load."

Oghren grinned, raising his mug. "You're just jealous. But fine, fine, get your fancy powders. Just make sure you don't blow us all to pieces while you're at it."

Before anyone could reply, a sudden commotion outside the tavern silenced the room. The sound of heavy, rhythmic footsteps echoed through the Commons, accompanied by murmurs of alarm.

"What in the Stone is that?" Adela muttered, already standing.

"Trouble," Duran said, grabbing his axe. "Let's go."

The Golem in the Hall of Heroes

The Hall of Heroes was packed with dwarves, their excited and nervous chatter filling the air. In the center of the grand hall stood a towering figure of stone, unmistakably a golem. Its crystalline eyes glowed faintly as it surveyed the crowd, though it stood motionless.

"It hasn't moved for hours," a guard muttered to Duran as they approached. "Keeps saying it's waiting for someone named Duran."

Duran exchanged a puzzled glance with his companions. "That's… me."

At the sound of his name, the golem's head turned sharply. Its voice, deep and resonant, rumbled through the hall. "Finally! I thought I would be standing here for another two years. The indignity!"

The crowd erupted into excited murmurs. Golems were the stuff of legend in Orzammar, and many dwarves had never seen one in their lifetimes.

Duran stepped forward, his tone cautious. "You were looking for me?"

"Yes," the golem replied. "I am Shale. Your human associate—a most tiresome fellow—said you would be capable of making use of me. He left this."

Shale raised a massive stone fist and opened it to reveal a crumpled piece of parchment. Duran took it and unfolded it, reading aloud:

"Dear Duran,
Found this charming—and somewhat murderous—golem during our travels. Thought it might be of use to you. We couldn't exactly take it with us without drawing every eye from here to Denerim, so I sent it your way. Enjoy!
Sincerely,
Alistair.
P.S. Watch out for its attitude. It's... unique."

"Did he say 'murderous'?" Gorim asked, his eyes narrowing at Shale.

"Ah, yes. That," Shale said, its tone almost dismissive. "There was an incident or two, but nothing noteworthy. I assure you, I am quite charming."

"And why are you here, exactly?" Duran asked.

Shale tilted its head, the motion oddly human. "I was told to find you. Apparently, I am to assist you on some grand and important endeavor. Though, I must say, Orzammar is… underwhelming. So many dwarves. So much noise."

The golem gestured vaguely to the gathered crowd. "And the staring. Truly, do none of you have anything better to do?"

The crowd began to disperse as the guards shooed them away, though a few lingered, their curiosity unquenched.

„Though, I suppose it's better than standing in that dreadful human village, surrounded by pigeons and their incessant cooing."

Oghren barked a laugh. "Pigeons? That's what broke you? Not the standing still for years thing?"

Shale's glowing eyes narrowed. "Have you ever had birds defecating on your head for months on end? I assure you, it is not an experience one easily forgets."

Decisions and a New Ally

Back at their safehouse, the group discussed the unexpected addition. Shale loomed in the corner, its glowing eyes watching the discussion with disinterest.

"So, you're just going to let it come with us?" Adela asked, her tone skeptical. "We barely know what it's capable of."

"Capable of crushing darkspawn," Shale said flatly. "That's all you need to know."

"It's true," Oghren said with a grin. "With fists like those, we'll clear out the Deep Roads in no time."

Gorim frowned. "We need to be careful. Shale might be powerful, but it also killed its creator. What happens if it decides to turn on us?"

Shale tilted its head. "Wilhelm deserved it. He was insufferable. 'Golem, do this! Golem, do that!' I've no intention of repeating that arrangement. But if you need someone to smash things, I'm available."

Duran rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You could be useful. But you're too conspicuous for Orzammar. The people here aren't used to seeing golems anymore. You'd draw too much attention."

"Let them stare," Shale said dismissively. "It's better than being ignored."

"They'll do more than stare," Duran said firmly. "For now, you'll stay here. This safehouse is out of the way, and it's where Harrowmont's allies meet. When we leave for the Deep Roads, you'll join us."

Shale sighed dramatically. "Fine. But if I get bored, I'll find my own entertainment. You won't like that."

Oghren slapped Duran on the back. "I like this one. It's got spirit!"

Adela rolled her eyes. "Great. Another reckless loudmouth. Just what we needed."

Duran smiled faintly. "It's decided then. Shale, welcome to the team. Try not to crush anyone important while you're here."

Shale inclined its massive head. "I shall try. No promises."