The Anvil of the Void

"If Branka is anywhere, this has to be it..." Oghren said, and he sounded absolutely exhausted by this point too.

They all were admittedly, but even that poor fuck sounded done with this shit. No wonder though, waiting all these years for a woman, only to find out she never loved you and preferred the company of other women. That had to bite, Torph would admit.

"She will not be unprepared."

Torph let out a curse when the world began to shake and a freaking wall appeared from nowhere behind them. What the fuck? How?

"Let me be blunt with you," a woman said, and Torph glanced up to see a dwarven woman standing above them. "After all this time, my tolerance for social graces is fairly limited. That doesn't bother you I hope."

It apparently bothered Epona, because elfy already had her arrow aimed straight at the dwarf's head.

Lawrien had fire sparking along her fingers, and her face was livid.

Fuck, this was Branka then.

"Well shave my back and call me an elf!" Oghren grinned. "Branka, by the Stone I barely recognised you!"

"Oghren." Branka didn't even bat an eye at him, she sounded so... blank? He didn't know a better word for it, but the sound of her voice, so lack of any emotion, made Torph's skin crawl. "It figures you would eventually find your way here. Hopefully you'll find your way back more easily." Branka eyed the rest of them. "And how should I address you lot? Hired sword of the latest lordling coming to look for me? Or just the only one who didn't mind Oghren's ale soaked breath?"

Oghren snarled. "Be respectful, woman! You're talking to a Grey Warden!"

"Ah, so important errand boys and girls then."

"You can address me as Warden Commander," Lawrien said coldly, and Branka actually eyed her more curiously at that.

"A Grey Warden Commander as young as you? Interesting." Branka's eyes narrowed. "I suppose something serious has happened then. Is Endrin dead? It seems most likely. He was old and feeble, even when I left." She eyed Epona. "Tell your elf to get that arrow off me."

"No," Lawrien replied.

"You're here to bring me back alive," Branka said, amused.

Torph scoffed. "After what you did to your house? You crazy, old bat."

Branka laughed. "A casteless has the nerve to talk? Really?"

"Yes, yes, I'm casteless." Torph rolled his eyes. "Good to know your eyesight still works."

"Orzammar needs a new King to help us defend against the Blight," Ciara explained. "The Assembly is in a deadlock, but of course a Paragon's voice weights heavily in these affairs."

"I don't care if the Assembly puts a drunken monkey on the throne," Branka scoffed, but then her expression softened, her voice longing. "Because our protector, our greatest invention, the thing that once made our armies the envy of the world, is lost to the very darkspawn it should be fighting. The Anvil of the Void!"

Torph blanked out her rambled rants as his blood boiled. She had thrown her men at the darkspawn to be eaten, then even worse? She had thrown the women of her house at the darkspawn in order for them to twisted into broodmothers to birth more darkspawn, all to use them against Caridin's traps.

This. Fucking. Bitch.

He was going to mount her head on his hand axes. Paragon or not. Narascha was clearly of the same mind, as was Lawrien. Especially now that the crazy bitch wanted to use them as bait.

"What has this place done to you, Branka?" Oghren cried out, he sounded heart broken, devastated, and Lawrien threw him a solemn look. "I remember marrying a girl I could talk to for one minute and see her brilliance!"

"I am your Paragon," Branka said coldly, then yelped as an arrow hit her in the shoulder.

She quickly dropped out of sight after that, while Torph cackled.

"Take that bitch!" Torph cheered.

"Nice shot, Epona," Morrigan complimented her. "That woman was really starting to get on my nerves."

"A shame I missed her head," Epona complained.

"Hey, ten gold says I can throw an acid vial up there?" Torph offered.

Oghren groaned. "No, we need Branka alive. You'll see, as soon as she gets the Anvil she will be fine again."

"Branka sacrificed her entire house to the darkspawn," Lawrien reminded him, her voice low. "The men were eaten alive, and the women were raped."

Oghren shuddered. "Fuck... FUCK!" He slammed his axe into a wall.

"The problem with soft, squishy brains is that they go sour. Take the dwarven woman for instance," Shale said.

Alistair snorted, a little amused, while Oghren groaned.

"Fuck, golem, not the time."

"I thought I would lighten the mood."

"She bred her people into darkspawn..." Wynne looked absolutely horrified and disgusted. "She is mad."

"This Anvil must be powerful," Morrigan said. "There is no other excuse to betray so much of herself."

"Oghren, your wife is a bitch," Torph said.

"She is..." Oghren sighed heavily. "Let's go, the sooner we get this done, the sooner we drag her out of here and go home."

.:.

'Help please...'

'I don't want to die!'

'I want to go home!'

'I didn't volunteer for this!'

'Save me! Someone! Anyone!'

Lawrien gasped and clamped her hands over her ears. "No!"

"Lawrien?" Ciara's hand landed on her arm.

"I can hear so many voices..." Lawrien breathed out sharply. "They're so scared..."

They were still whispering in her ears. All she could hear was the darkspawn's whispers at the back of her mind and people's cries and pleads. All different from one another. So many voices. So many terrified, determined, angry people.

"It's so loud!" Lawrien crumbled to the ground, curling up.

She needed them to stop. She needed the voices to stop screaming.

'CARIDIN, PLEASE, NO!'

'I DON'T WANT TO DIE!'

'IT HURTS!'

.:.

Lawrien screamed, much to Ciara's horror, she knelt down in front of Lawrien, holding her hands now, and Lawrien's hands threatened to crush her own from how hard she gripped them.

"What happened?" Epona rushed over, kneeling down beside her.

"I don't know, something is loud, but it's not something I can hear," Ciara admitted. "It must be her empathy, she must feel something we can't."

Epona grabbed Lawrien's shoulder and shook her gently. "Get it together, Lawrien!" she said firmly. "I know it hurts, but we need you on your feet."

"I'd be surprised if that worked," Ciara admitted, but startled when Lawrien did open her eyes, squinting at Epona.

"Don't drown in others pain," Epona said. "You're angry that people are hurt, right? You're angry that Branka has gotten so many people killed. That she's gotten all of us hurt. Each of our bruises right now is her fault, so get up."

Lawrien gritted her teeth and nodded. "Keep me angry," she whispered.

Epona nodded and stood up, holding out her hand. Ciara couldn't help but eye Epona, then Lawrien, a little baffled. Lawrien who took Epona's hand and was tugged up to her feet, while Ciara rose on her own.

Lawrien rarely calmed down so quickly when it hurt so much. How did...? Did Lawrien...?

No. Ciara was not going to think about that at the moment. They needed to get to the Anvil.

But Ciara had to admit, she was a little hopeful. Lawrien deserved some happiness, and if she liked Epona that much to listen to her in such a highly pained state...

Ciara saw Lawrien eye her, a little hint of knowing in her eyes, and Ciara had to fight off the urge to ask questions.

Lawrien had never had a crush before.

Did she actually like Epona that way?

Ciara shook off the sudden thoughts and breathed in deeply. Focus. She was tired, so tired her energy and thoughts were getting away from her fast.

It took some time to get past all the traps Caridin had left, but once they did, they all found themselves in a large cavern with multiple golems lining the path in front of them, with a strange looking golem standing at the head of them.

"That's Caridin..." Lawrien whispered hoarsely, holding on to Epona's arm.

Narascha's jaw dropped. "No way..."

She was one of the closest to Lawrien, and her eyes were almost bulging out her skull right now. Ciara never thought she'd see the day.

"My name is Caridin," the golem introduced himself. "Long ago, longer than I cared to think, I was a Paragon to the dwarves of Orzammar."

"Caridin? The Paragon Smith? Alive?" Shale startled.

"Ah, there is a voice I recognise!" Caridin sounded relieved. "Step forth, Shayle of House Cadash."

Shale hesitated. "You... you know my name? Is it you that forged me then? Gave me that name?"

"Have you forgotten then?" Caridin sighed heavily. "It's been so long..." He sounded exhausted by that. "I made you into the golem you are now, Shayle, but before that you were a dwarf, as was I. The finest warrior to serve King Valtor, and the only woman to volunteer."

Shale stammered. "The... the only woman? A dwarf?"

"I laid you on the Anvil of the Void, here in this very room, and put you into the form you now possess," Caridin said.

Lawrien's hands trembled on Epona's arm. "So much pain..." she whispered.

Ciara reached over and rubbed her arm soothingly. "Just hold on," Ciara pleaded.

"The Anvil of the Void, that is what we seek," Shale said.

"If you seek the Anvil, then you must care to hear my story, or be doomed to repeat it," Caridin said.

"You made the Anvil?" Cobian asked, notebook already out.

"Though I made many things in my time, I rose to fame and earned my status based on a single item; the Anvil of the Void. It allowed me to forge a man of steel and stone, as flexible and clever as any soldier. As an army we were invincible, but I told no one the cost."

Lawrien shivered.

"No mere smith, however skilled, has the power to create life. To make my golems live, I needed to take their lives from another source."

"The screams... had to ignore the screams... the hot lyrium pouring on to them, the cries for mercy, for death..." Lawrien rambled. "...For help..."

Caridin looked at the ground. "Yes..."

"That was a dire shortcut..." Cobian's face fell. "Was it worth it?"

"So said my king. I had only intended to use it on volunteers like Shale, but he was not satisfied... and soon a river of blood flowed out of this place." Caridin's voice grew disgusted, even as his fists clenched. "It was too much. I finally refused him. And so Valtor had me put on the Anvil next."

Lawrien scratched her hair. "They didn't want to do it... but they had too... he was staring at them, threats on his tongue..."

Caridin paused. "You're... you're an Amell..."

"You know about them?" Epona asked.

"Yes. When I began to doubt myself, a traveller arrived here, she was an elf with long white hair, and the most talented healer I had ever met. She knew how I felt before I even spoke a word. She counselled me, helped ease the pain and fear of those condemned by Valtor to be put to the Anvil, but she left the day I decided to put my foot down."

"Why did she leave?" Lawrien frowned.

"Because I didn't want to watch her die. She would have, in the crossfire between Valtor and I, so I bade her to leave. She did, with great reluctance, but I was thankful nonetheless. My apprentices knew enough to make me as I am, but not enough to fashion a control rod, so I retained my mind." He stared at Shale. "You were amongst my most loyal, Shayle. You stayed at my side throughout everything, and I sent you away out of mercy."

"I... do not remember..." Shale admitted, sounding devastated.

"Perhaps it is for the best," Caridin said softly. "We have remained entombed here ever since. I have sought out ways to destroy the Anvil, but alas, I cannot do it myself. No golem can touch it."

"No!"

Everyone jumped at that, and Epona instantly had her arrow notched and aimed at Branka's head again. Branka who came bolting into the cavern.

Branka screamed. "The Anvil is mine! No one will take it from me!"

"Shayle!" Caridin cried out, his voice desperate. "Please, you fought to destroy the Anvil once. Do not let it fall to unthinking hands again, I beg of you. All of you."

"You speak of things I do not remember," Shale said, eyeing Caridin and Branka. "You say we fought... did you use our control rods to make us fight?"

"I destroyed the rods!" Caridin insisted. "Perhaps my apprentices learned one day to replace them, but if so, then all they need is the Anvil to make all the slaves they need again!"

"Don't listen to it!" Branka yelled. "Caridin has been trapped here for thousands of years! Stewing in his own madness!"

"You're one to talk," Torph scoffed.

"Get me the Anvil, and I will give you the army you need to stop the Blight!" Branka kept yelling.

"Branka, you mad, bleeding nug tail! Does this thing mean so much to you that you can't even see what you've lost?" Oghren snarled.

"Look around, Oghren!" Branka gestured all around them. "Is this what our empire should look like? A crumbling ruin filled with darkspawn spume? The Anvil will let us take back our glory!"

"I...I don't know..." Lawrien whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm the Grey Warden Commander of Ferelden... I'm meant to make the tough decisions, but..." Lawrien flinched, staring at the Anvil in disgusted terror. "They won't stop screaming..."

Morrigan shook her head. "I know the voices upset you, but they are from a long distant past. Destroy this gift and you will regret it, Lawrien! You know you will!"

"I vote to destroy it." Faren stared hatefully at the Anvil. "I know who will get fed to it. People from Dust Town like Torph, people from the Alienage like me. We'll be the fodder."

Epona frowned. "It is a marvellous weapon. In the right hands perhaps it could be used for the right purposes. I say we keep it. Find the right person to use it."

"Pfft, with Bhelen as King?" Leliana scoffed. "He'd feed everyone to it."

Lawrien flinched again and she brought her hands up to her ears, murmuring under her breath. Ciara bit her lip, throwing the others an urgent look. Lawrien wasn't doing well.

"Break it." Torph nodded sharply. "Bhelen can't be trusted. He already tried to kill Narascha. His own sister!" He pointed at Narascha who looked deep in thought. "I'm with Faren on this one. It'll be my folk and his that pay the price."

"I don't know..." Narascha admitted, biting her lip. "We've lost so much, but the golems turned the tide when we needed it... they could do the same again, but the cost is so high to pay... We couldn't have the children required either... We'd lose whatever we have left."

Cobian and her shared a look. It was down to them. His eyes were hard when they looked at the Anvil but then they looked around and he sighed.

"I like to know things, we all know that, but this?" Cobian shook his head. "History shows who exactly would be sacrificed to it. If the Chantry learns of it and claims it, which I hope it never does, they would sacrifice every heretic to it. I would be thrown upon it. Epona would be. Lawrien, Sten, everyone here except Alistair and Ciara perhaps."

Morrigan scowled. "As if they could manage that."

"They would." Cobian frowned. "They managed to drive the Dalish out of their own home and make them wanderers. They have abused both mages and Templars. In the Chantry's hands everyone but the priests and priestesses would be used."

"They'd never get me on the Anvil," Morrigan scoffed.

"A good blow to the head would knock you out," Cobian reminded. "Many mages aren't fast or strong physically. Magic tends to be more mental and energy focused."

Morrigan crossed her arms. "I feel I am strong enough to defend myself."

"Well that might be you then, but I do not. I do not feel safe with this thing existing. Bhelen has already betrayed the woman who raised him from a baby," Cobian said. "He used Narascha, and as her friend I cannot forgive that, and as a Cousland it is my duty to defend those who cannot. Torph and Faren are right, we know who will be sacrificed first, and Narascha is correct too, the dwarven population is too low."

"It feels good. Siding with Caridin," Shale admitted.

"Some prices are too high to pay." Alistair nodded.

Ciara nodded. "Then so let it be. It shall be broken."

"NO!" Branka howled.

Lawrien's fists flared with flames. "I'm giving you a chance to back down because of Oghren, but it's only one chance, Branka, because of what you did to your people. Don't make me burn you down."

"Bah! You're not the only master smith here, Caridin!" Bhelen yelled, holding up a control rod. "Golems! Obey me! Attack!"

"Shale?" Narascha called out, alarmed, but thankfully, unlike all the other golems, Shale was unaffected.

"A control rod!" Caridin cried out. "Please, my friends, you must help me. I cannot do this alone!"

"We will, Caridin!" Shale insisted.

"Don't let the golems grab you!" Lawrien yelled, ducking beneath a golem hand, while Epona fired arrows off at Branka.

Branka who rushed in straight for Morrigan's back. Cobian's shield bashed into Branka, and a sickening pop echoed from Cobian- shit, his dislocated arm had still been healing- who buckled again, wincing and dropped his shield. Narascha appeared behind Branka, her axe raised high, but a golem caught it and threw Narascha across the cavern. She hit the ground hard and rolled, then went limp.

"Narascha!" Alistair yelled.

"Don't touch the Princess!" Oghren snarled, his axe sinking deep into a golem.

"Fuck!" Faren hissed, retreating back, cradling his arm. "Arm's broken again. Fucking hell!"

"I can't heal you, I'm sorry!" Wynne cried out, retreating back with him.

"Stay out the way for now!" Ciara ordered.

Branka raised her hand axe above Cobian's head, but Morrigan's bear form slammed into Branka, roaring in her face. She stabbed into Morrigan's chest, the bear howling, but Calenhad was there seconds later, biting down on Branka's wrist, forcing her to release her axe. Her shield slammed into Morrigan's face, the bear stumbling back, then into Calenhad too, as Branka shoved them both back and scooped up her hand axe again, retreating back.

"Hey, you crazy bitch!" Torph yelled.

Ciara rolled beneath another golem's fist, in between its legs to escape, and risked a glance towards Branka.

Torph rolled an explosive at Branka's feet.

"This is for Laryn," Torph said, and pressed the button on the device he held.

Branka's eyes widen, just as the bomb went off, exploding in a fiery hot mess around her. Her burnt body flew back, hitting the ground hard, and she didn't move a muscle. Her chest didn't rise or fall. She was dead.

Branka was dead.