The party checked their map several times on the way to where Paragon Fairel's tomb was meant to be according to their new map. Surely at least one of the grand-looking statues depicted had survived to guide them in the right direction? At last, they came to a cliff's edge, and saw how something so monumental could be so well-hidden.
They were at the precipice of a giant crater; a perfect circle with steep cliffs on all sides, and below, row upon row of huge stone dwarves stood guard over what might have once been a temple, except that only its foundational pillars still stood. There was even a wide footpath that had been carved out to lead them down to the base of the crater, although their journey down came to a sudden halt when another sound echoed around the area beside the howling winds; the low, bone-rattling rumblings of a sleeping High Dragon.
"She is magnificent," the Iron Bull breathed.
"No," Ellethir said firmly. "We're not fighting a dragon today, Bull. Not if we can help it. I prefer it when shrieking monsters aren't shrieking at me."
"Where are her drakes?" Varric murmured quietly. "A dragon like that could have a hundred drakes and dragonlings hiding out here somewhere. If you're suggesting we scoot around the snoozing High Dragon to get to Fairel's tomb without being noticed by her as-yet-unseen defenders, you'd better hope Andraste really does have your back, Inquisitor."
"That's exactly what I'm suggesting, whether Andraste is involved or not. Anyone who can't be really quiet when they need to be, stay here and wait for us. If we're not back within the day, send for help."
Dividing themselves into groups accordingly, those with more sensitive ears had to hold their hands over them as they passed the dragon, her rattling snores loud enough to reverberate around the canyon and knock down loose rocks and sand from the cliffs. This dragon was much bigger, and much older, than the dragon the Inquisition had faced off with in Crestwood.
The infiltration party reached the locked entrance to the tomb without incident, except that the tomb was locked. Another journal lay by the door, slightly spattered with blood. 'From the Stone, have no fear of anything, but the stone-less sky betrays with wings of flame. If the surface must be breached, if there is no other way, bring weapons against the Urtok, and heed their screams," Isobel wrote.
While her translation was being passed around, Isobel continued to write. "Urtok means dragon. Why was it part of an ancient crest? Why were these dwarves so worried about a monster they'd never see, that they had never seen, that they worked it into their weapons? How did they know it she existed?"
"Good question," Bull muttered.
"We need whatever the ancient dwarven equivalent of the Winter Palace's halla statuettes is," Fae whispered.
Isobel dug through her bag, and pulled out a handful of twisted metal shapes. She felt around the door for grooves, and started placing them one by one.
"How the hell do you have those?" Varric's whisper carried, and Ellethir shushed him.
Isobel ignored Varric until she had finished placing the pieces, and the door was lighting up blue. She dug out her now nearly-unusable last piece of paper. "They were in each of the coffins. A couple were on the Venatori we killed."
"Shit. You're not actually with the Carta, are you?"
Isobel rolled her eyes, and pushed the door open.
Despite the grandeur of the monuments surrounding the tomb's entrance, the tomb itself was fairly simple; a long, wide entrance chamber, and a large open central chamber at the end of it. It was presented like a throne room. Mostly-buried stone tables and chairs were set up on either side of a walkway, with a large stone throne at the far end of the room. A large urn was seated upon it.
"Maker," Fae whispered. "That's him. That's the ashes of the Paragon."
"Not the ashes, the body," Varric shuddered. "The ancient dwarves didn't do ashes. This room looks untouched, so those instructions are probably here too. And if they were that important…" he glanced at the urn.
Ellethir blanched. "We can't open it. Wouldn't that be disrespectful?"
"Probably, but not more disrespectful than letting it fall into Venatori hands if they come back and find the door unlocked, right?" Fae mused, nervously picking at her lower lip.
The Iron Bull effortlessly twisted the seal off the urn without further ceremony, then realised his predicament. "Only small hands could get in there. Fae?"
"No!"
"Isobel?"
"…"
"Inquisitor?"
"I don't…" Ellethir looked to Fae with desperate, pleading eyes.
"How dare you use that trick on me, I taught it to you," Fae grumbled, giving in almost immediately. She reluctantly lowered her hand into the urn. "Oh Maker this is so…! Oh, that's… that's a rock, so…" She pulled out a rune, iridescent in colouring, and moved it around a bit, watching the colours glint off the torchlight. "This must be the weapon, so it does already exist after all. I wonder what it does."
"You're holding the legacy of a Paragon," Varric pointed out. "Empires used to kill for them. Hell, they still do. Whatever it does, it's probably ancient and invaluable. Do not drop it in the sand."
Fae quickly handed it over to Isobel, who began to scrutinise it intensely, while Fae returned reluctantly to the urn. After a few moments, she pulled out a dusty scroll, pinched between two fingers. "And these would be the schematics, I guess…Please someone take it off me."
Ellethir accepted the scroll, holding it gingerly. "Isobel? Anything you can tell us about that rune?"
Isobel handed the rune to Varric to free her hands for writing. "Killing."
Varric scoffed. "A rune that straight-up kills people. Figures."
Ellethir unfurled the scroll for Isobel to inspect. "Does that theory line up with this?"
Isobel squinted, and then clearly noticed something recognisable, as her eyebrows shot up and her mouth opened a little, scrabbling for her writing materials. "Killing demons." She underlined 'demons' several times. "Why?" she wrote. "Why would they need to kill demons? We don't have a connection to the Fade, demons in the Fade can't hurt us? And without mages, demons can't come here. It doesn't make sense."
"That is weird," Fae agreed. "Maybe it's something to do with those stone-demons, the gangues? But if they were so dangerous they created a whole new rune just to kill them, how—why would they have bound them to guard their tombs?"
"Could be something with the dragons," the Iron Bull added. "Considering it sounds like they knew about dragons even before coming up to the surface. Fuckin' weird."
"We'll ask Arcanist Dagna, she might be able to put the pieces together," Ellethir decided.
"So, we can leave now?" Varric asked hopefully, slinging Bianca over his shoulder.
"Without killing the shrieking monster?" Bull's disappointment was palpable.
Fae patted his elbow. "The next time there's a High Dragon attacking people in their homes, you'll be the first to know, Bull."
"I'll hold you to that."